Chapter one: Triggerhoof

Chapter one: Triggerhoof

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Triggerhoof looked up, over the cracked and broken marble counter and towards the sign above. It listed many different departments of the hospital, to make it easier for other people to find their way around. There were departments for eye problems, heart problems, stomach problems, muscle problems, lung problems, back problems, and even a department for psychological treatments. Each category was divided in dozens of sub-categories, some of which had faded or fallen off. Triggerhoof scanned the sign with his eyes once more, and scowled.

“How is it even possible for humans to have that many problems. Are humans that weak?”

He was talking to no one and nopony. He stood alone on cracked tiles in the vast entry hall of the hospital. Around him, the building was decayed. No window was left intact by the chorus of nuclear blasts that had sounded years ago. Potted plants were either dead, or had overgrown their pots. The dust in the air was clearly visible in Triggerhoof’s flashlight beam. Triggerhoof did one step forward to give the sign a better look, and then, as if on cue, some plaster from the roof showered dust all over the pony.

“Dammit!” he shouted in his gasmask, as one tile fell upon his helmet. Luckily it wasn’t a big part, so both his head as well as the visor of his gasmask remained unharmed. Triggerhoof silently wondered whether his mask would protect his lungs from asbestos cutting them apart.

If it works for radioactive particles that you can’t even fucking see, than should damn well protect against a puny bit of dust.

Triggerhoof shined his flashlight upon the sign again. Where should he start looking? He realized he was thinking very optimistically; neither he nor General Johansson knew whether or not this location had been raided yet. For all he knew, the place could already have been picked clean by other Heat Seekers, or whatever the hell other surviving groups called the soldiers who scavenge supplies for them.

But that shouldn’t stop Triggerhoof from trying to find at least something. The pony unfolded one of his wings, reached underneath his weapons, and inside his saddlebags. After some fumbling, he pulled out a piece of paper, capsuled in a layer of plastic to protect it from the radioactive dust. It was a list with all the medicines Triggerhoof should find. Triggerhoof knew that a lot depended on him, for his home base was in dire need of some more medical supplies. Wiping the dust off the visor of his gasmask, the pony strained his eyes to read the words written in the doctor’s neat, ornate handwriting. After some minutes—more minutes than he would like to allow his attention to be diverted—he put the paper away again and sighed.

The doctor should have done better making a list of the things he doesn’t need.

Triggerhoof hoped that his memory wouldn’t fail him, and ventured onwards. Clad in his protective suit, painted in green and grey—the colors of the landscape outside—anyone else should have trouble moving around, let alone breaking into a trot, but it wasn’t the first time Triggerhoof was on a mission on Ground Zero. He moved with relative ease, scanning the cracked walls and the dusty floor of the hospital, letting his flashlight beam dance in front of him. He didn’t expect much resistance. Even though not even General Johansson knew where hostile forces had set up their home base, this close to the city, only a fool would set up any form of permanent settlement. The fallout, dust storms, and background radiation would make life very miserable.

Suddenly, a small crackling sound came from Triggerhoof’s left hoof. He knew it was not the sound of cracking tiles underneath him. It was the sound of his Geiger counter. After a quick curse, Triggerhoof raised his hoof and glanced on the little, yellow machine. The needle was no longer on the zero, but luckily still in the green. This place was hot.

Checking the foundation of the steps first, Trigg walked up a flight of stairs. Whatever medicine he needed, it wouldn’t be in the entry hall. Numerous other chambers passed. They were bedchambers, operation chambers, hallways, and much more. All of them were ruined and decayed, with beds overturned, matrasses eaten away by insects, curtains tattered and waving in the winds.

And at every chamber, Triggerhoof stopped and searched. He searched and he searched, but always came up empty. After the twelfth failed try, Triggerhoof took a moment to think. Either this wasn’t yet the right floor, or the hospital had been picked clean of its medication. Triggerhoof refused to believe the latter, if only because of the radiation. Radiation has a way of chasing people away. The gamma particles that no man could see, feel, taste, hear, or smell were always dangerous, and always present. And sadly, radiation sickness was more common than the cold.

No, it was a strange matter; a hospital in the middle of a hot zone, but still robbed of its valuable contents, medicine, equipment—everything. No matter how hard he tried, Triggerhoof couldn’t wrap his head around it. The doubt and questions manifested like an inflatable beach ball in his mind, ready to pop.

Triggerhoof let out a growl, walked out of the room, and slammed the door shut behind him with a bang. Triggerhoof walked on, but the door wasn’t very capable of handling such violence any more, and collapsed.

The next room wasn’t much of a room; it was a waiting hall. Triggerhoof could tell by the plastic chairs that were scattered about, not yet eaten away by the teeth of many destructive years’ time. A few lamps lay broken on the ground, and glass was all over the place.

Triggerhoof stopped. There was silence. The waiting hall had no windows, so darkness and silence reigned. The pony could feel something here. He didn’t like the silence one bit. Scanning the walls with his flashlight, Triggerhoof spotted something strange: footsteps. The dust on the ground had been stirred by someone. Triggerhoof followed the footsteps with the beam of his flashlight, snaking over the ground. The trail stopped at some rubble in the far corner of the waiting hall. But it wasn’t just rubble; it looked as if it had been stacked to form a miserable little hut with a roof made of a piece of linen, probably from one of the hospital beds.

Triggerhoof narrowed his eyes, pulled back the bolt of his assault rifle with his wing, and stepped closer—slowly.

The sound must have scared whatever lived in the hut. The pile of rubble stirred; a plastic chair tumbled down one of the ‘walls.’ A ball of rags tumbled out of it.

“Stop! Don’t move!” Triggerhoof called.

At first he thought he saw a skeleton, but it proved to be a man. Dirty, long tresses of hair hung down, as did his beard. He was covered in rags, crudely tied together from hospital linens. Of course, the sheets were far from white; they were grey, black, nasty. The man kept rolling and shuffling over the floor, as if he were cleaning it with his own garments.

Triggerhoof tried to follow his movements with his body, aligning the gun’s barrel with the shifting figure. “I said STOP!”

The voice hit the man like a hurricane. He stopped squirming about, and instead shuffled towards his ‘home’ as quickly as he could.

With one long jump, Triggerhoof stood beside the structure, and loomed over it. He brought his gun level. The man, shivering, looked straight into the barrel. “Pl-pl-please! Help!”

Triggerhoof snorted. “Why should I? I’m the one who needs help. Where are all the meds? Have people raided this place?”

The man squeaked like a mouse, and then curled up even tighter, as if he didn’t believe that there was somepony with a gun right outside his front door, threatening and asking strange questions. He didn’t say anything.

“I asked you a question,” Triggerhoof said. And to put more emphasis on his last words, he undid the safety catch on his combat shotgun, hanging snugly beside the assault rifle on his modified saddle. “Now answer it!”

With much visible effort, the tramp slowly turned around—although he didn’t stop trembling—and faced the intruder. “They kicked me out,” he said, hissing the words through clenched teeth. “They kicked me out and I want in again. I need the stuff.”

Triggerhoof did a step closer, all the while making sure to keep both his weapons aligned with the man. “What do you mean? What stuff?”

“Oh, oh, oh!” the man wailed, flinging his arms into the air. “The good stuff. The stuff that makes your head go WOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Triggerhoof almost pulled the trigger with his wing to the man’s outcry. He barely kept himself in check. But he thought he was getting the picture now. He forced his voice to become gentle, although that was hardly possible, and said, “I can help you get the stuff. I’m looking for the stuff myself. Where is it?”

The man’s head traveled to the floor, until his nose touched it. “Down, down, down. They are all down, enjoying their stuff. And I’m up here, all alone and sad.”

Silently, Triggerhoof wondered how long this man had been on Ground Zero. Of course there was still radiation all around, but the man didn’t show any symptoms of radiation sickness yet. He still had all of his hair, and Triggerhoof couldn’t spot boils or discolored flesh, other than the filth he wore over his whole body. But Triggerhoof also knew that the man hadn’t long to live. He didn’t even have a gas mask. Within a matter of days, maybe one week, he would be fried from the inside by the radiation.

And so Triggerhoof mulled over the strange man’s words. Somehow, he knew he wasn’t going to pull any more information out of him. The man was a lunatic. I guess the radiation already taints his brain…

“I will go down,” Triggerhoof said. “If you show me where to go. Can you do that?”

The man shrunk again. “No, no, no! They will kill me. They will shoot me on sight. No, I cannot go back in. Once you’re out, you stay out. That is the law. But… I would like to go back in, if only to get some stuff. But no. You must get the stuff and bring it to me.”

At once another one of those cryptic answers, Triggerhoof scowled. He didn’t like overthinking. He wanted things, especially mission objectives, to be crystal clear. He felt the rage building inside of him. Here he was, talking to a fool in a building full of radiation. He realized he was wasting his time, and he scolded himself for that.

“Oh, please, get me some of the stuff, and—“

But the man’s words were cut short by the buckshot that transformed his face into a red paste, painting his home the same color as Triggerhoof’s coat. The rest of the body finally stopped shuddering after a couple of seconds, but Triggerhoof had already turned around.

“Then I will find it myself, you sick bastard,” he said, as he reloaded his shotgun with his wing.

The tramp had said ‘down,’ so Triggerhoof went down. He thought he had already figured out the answer to the riddle; this hospital also had a bunker underneath it. But the rest of the tramp’s words worried him.

They threw me out… they.

Triggerhoof reckoned there were hostiles inside the bunker. But whoever they were, he couldn’t guess. If they would be like the miserable little man he shot, it would be an easy task of wiping them out, and getting the ‘stuff,’ which he knew meant ‘medicine.’

He walked through the empty hallways, leaving a trail of bloody hoofprints behind. It looked as if the color of his coat seeped down upon the ground. Upon noticing his trail, Triggerhoof stopped, pulled some linen sheets off a nearby bed, and wiped his hooves clean. He wasn’t worried about the filth; he was worried to get backstabbed. If there was one little, dirty, miserable man living in the hospital, there could be more—and they could be armed.

As he walked down the stairs again, going to the main hall, Triggerhoof went over the information one last time, but couldn’t figure out the man’s strange behavior. He had thought it was the radiation, but he had also reckoned that the man hadn’t been outside, on Ground Zero, for that long. The wretch kept shivering, and not only because of fear. No, the behavior of the man was the only question Triggerhoof couldn’t answer. He had never seen such behavior before.

Could it be poison?

The people who were alive back before the apocalypse would probably have walked towards the sign to figure out where to go. But of course, the bunker wouldn’t be visible on it. Triggerhoof had learned from the doctor that many hospitals, energy companies, and sometimes even public schools had built some sort of public safehouse or underground bunker, when they saw how foreign politics went downhill.

But only the smart ones did build bunkers. People might have called them crazy, lunatics, or—a more progressive term—‘doomsday preppers,’ but those were the people who had taken the hints and saw what was coming: total atomic annihilation. Silently, Triggerhoof wondered how many of them would be alive.

He crossed the entrance hall, all the while scanning it with his flashlight. He was looking for a utility room of some sorts, but it was cleverly hidden. Nobody wanted panic, so they had made sure that only the top surgeons and medical personnel knew of the bunker.

If this bunker would be anything like the one he called home, then the entrance or elevator should be located somewhere in the hospital, on the ground floor. As he searched, he threw one more glance at his Geiger counter. The needle was now in orange. The crackling sound had gradually intensified, but it had been so gradually that Triggerhoof hadn’t noticed it. If there would be a bunker in the hospital, he had to find it fast.

A few more hallways branched off of the entrance hall on either sides. Triggerhoof flapped his wings, covering them both in a minute. His protective suit was drawn tightly over his wings, so he could still fly around, although really long distances could become a bit of a challenge. He flew past a couple more waiting rooms, a couple of offices, until he finally saw something of interest. It was a sign which read: ‘Restricted area. Authorized medical personnel only.’ Triggerhoof tried the doorknob.

“Dammit!”

The door was locked, naturally, and could only be opened by a keycard. Triggerhoof checked his Geiger counter. There was no time. The big red pony turned around, braced himself, and bucked at the door as hard as he could.

The force of the buck made him rebound and roll forwards. With a curse, Triggerhoof got up, checked the straps on his gas mask, and tried again.

THUMP! The same result.

Now Triggerhoof had enough of it. No time for fucking around! He jumped up, let out a whinny, and charged head-first into the door.

With this savage headbutt, the weakened door finally gave way. It slammed open, and Triggerhoof was left with a pounding headache. As he came to a standstill, he reached for his head and looked back to the stubborn door.

“At least it worked,” he said through gritted teeth.

And he had struck gold. Even though this chamber was also picked clean of any useful materials and medicine, Triggerhoof could clearly see where he had charged into: the security control room.

Broken monitors and keyboards with just a few keys left littered the room. This was where the medical personnel could oversee the situation, and coordinate the evacuation to make sure everyone got inside quickly. The bunker itself should be close.

And fair enough, there was an iron stairway leading down at the far side of the room. Triggerhoof looked back and checked his weapons, then he descended.

“Gotcha,” he whispered into his gasmask, when he reached the end of the stairs and saw the door in front of him. It looked almost identical to the one of Trigg’s own bunker: strong and indestructible. As Trigg looked at it, the gears in his head spun. There was no way of opening the door by force; it had to be opened by someone on the inside, or with very precise steel cutting explosives or equipment, both of which Triggerhoof lacked.

I should have asked that tramp on how to get in, Triggerhoof thought with a sour smile on his muzzle. Maybe they have a code, or a password or passphrase….

Triggerhoof looked around, but there were neither cameras nor an intercom like he had back at his own home.

That left him with only one obvious choice. Triggerhoof stepped forwards and banged on the door with his hoof. He positioned himself to the right, so when the door opened, Triggerhoof would first hear the people inside and get a picture of how many they were before they would spot him hiding behind the open door.

A clunk resounded, followed by a hiss like a snake, as the pneumatic lock disengaged itself. Triggerhoof was baffled for a moment. Could it really be that easy? Slowly, the heavy steel door opened and crept towards him. The sound of squeaking hinges was accompanied by voices and footsteps.

“What the fuck? There’s no one here,” a rough voice said.

“You think it is that fool Thomas?” another voice, one much higher and with a nasty undertone, said.

Boots shuffled. “If it is, I’ll make sure to smash his brains to pulp.”

I guess I saved you the trouble, Triggerhoof thought. He still listened, trying to figure out how many were there.

A third voice sounded. “No, I will be the one giving him what he deserves. He killed my love when he freaked out on his last trip, shot her to pieces right in front of my eyes. I couldn’t believe his aim was that steady, considering how many drugs he had taken.”

The one with the high voice guffawed. “That trip was legendary! I wonder what combination he tried out. I want some of that too. He completely lost himself, haha!”

“You think that’s funny, dipshit?” voice number three said, as loud and ugly as he could. “Let me give you a trip that will make you see stars!”

They were distracted. Triggerhoof seized the moment. With one jump, he moved from his hiding place into the open. With a second jump, he aligned his assault rifle with the three men and stood firm. A few seconds and some bullets later, the three of them lay on the ground, their bodies riddled with holes.

Triggerhoof took some time to study his enemy, to see whom he was dealing with. The bodies were filthy and weathered. They wore threadbare tracksuits or leather jackets, and one of them wore nothing but a ragged t-shirt. Triggerhoof doubted that they were part of the medical team that managed to get into the bunkers. No, they looked like they had been out on Ground Zero for a while, and Triggerhoof started comparing them with the other groups of wretches he had seen. They were the kind of people who used the anarchy of Ground Zero to become the worst versions of themselves. These people weren’t going to help anybody; they would shoot you in the back and loot your body. Raiders, thieves, outlaws, cutthroats, bandits—just a few names people had given to them.

They must have found some way into the bunker, Triggerhoof thought. But how do they keep themselves alive? What do they eat?

Not much, Triggerhoof saw, as their bodies were scrawny and their cheeks hollow. They wore gasmasks on their faces, but they were primitive models, lacking the full-face visor he himself wore. Triggerhoof was no fool. He knew that the shots might have alarmed the rest of the gang. He had to find a better position to set up a killing zone, or at least surprise them. But first, he took a look at their gas mask filters. They wouldn’t need them anyway.

Triggerhoof stuck out his tongue as he saw the dirty filters. They were of no use. Apparently, these raiders weren’t the brightest cookies in the jar—or bunker, for that matter.

Before him, there was a broken elevator, with next to it a stairway. It led deeper and deeper into the earth. The deeper one lives underground, the more protection one has from the radiation.

The cast iron stairs reverberated the incoming raider’s footsteps beautifully. Triggerhoof went for the direct approach. Against all logic but his own, he descended the stairs.

“You think the deliverymen fired those shots?” a voice came.

“No way,” another voice said. “Our prices aren’t that bad. At least, I believe they are fucking good. They always get cheap drugs, and in return, we get moldy food. We should be the ones shooting them.”

Yes, keep talking, keep talking, Triggerhoof thought, then I know exactly where you are. He could hear their footsteps on the iron.

“No, it’s not the deliverymen. Maybe it’s—“

But both raiders would never know what theory the first one would propose. They met Triggerhoof, who was waiting for them. Then they met the barrel of his gun. And then they met the buckshot with their faces.

As the echo of the bang rolled further downwards, Triggerhoof looked at his carnage.

“Two in one shot,” he said with a grin. “I must be in shape.”

He continued down the stairs, until he came upon a door. It was a thinner and weaker version of the giant blast door which sealed the bunker from the outside world. Right next to him was another room, but there was no light over there.

I guess they didn’t manage to power up the whole bunker, Triggerhoof thought. Just a part of it…

The door was locked, but that was an easy problem to solve. Triggerhoof knew those doors inside and out, so it didn’t take him long to find the lock. He aimed the barrel of his combat shotgun at the steel lock, turned his ears away, and fired.

The door swung open. Triggerhoof could blink once, before he saw the firing squad in front of him.

“FIRE!”

Of course the bandits were alarmed by the shots. Triggerhoof had just enough time to scold himself for forgetting that when the bullets began to fly. He jumped aside into the darkened chamber, but not quick enough. He felt a sharp pain in his ear as a bullet tore right through it. Blood trickled down upon his cheek, but the pain numbed that feeling.

Triggerhoof gritted his teeth—he had been through worse, far worse. His flashlight jumped around the dark room. He saw large racks stacked with metal boxes, a forklift, and some other unimportant things. He jumped, and took cover behind the racks. His enemies were slow to follow, so Trigg scanned the boxes quickly. It was just as he thought, for the boxes all bore red crosses.

Medical supplies!

“Find him!” a gruff voice said from outside. Then Triggerhoof turned off his flashlight. Darkness would be his advantage.

He quickly moved further into the hall, making sure to keep his hoofsteps light.

“There, there, I got him!” The voice was followed by a burst of machine gun fire, lighting up the dark hall like a stroboscope lamp.

“Fuck!” Stealth was not Triggerhoof’s strong suit. He felt a bullet fly through the hairs of his tail. Triggerhoof changed the direction in which he was walking, then stopped.

“Come out, come out, my little pony,” a raspy voice said, as if they were playing a game. “Come out, and then I have a little treat for you… A leadburger!”

Triggerhoof rolled his eyes, a gesture that no one could see in the dark. He heard boots shuffling closer. As silently as he could, he fumbled into his backpack.

Not silently enough. Shots fired, bullets ricocheted off metal boxes, letting sparks fly like fireworks.

Once again Triggerhoof changed his position. But he couldn’t do that forever. Soon, they would have him cornered; he had seen that there was no way out of this hall on the other side.

“Why don’t you come over here?” the raspy voice said. “Then we will give you a nice brush and you will look pretty. A brush with swords!”

Grunting softly at the insult, Triggerhoof reached back and dug through his pack with his wing. By his estimations, there wasn’t much hallway left for him to hide in. He kept searching. “Yes,” he whispered, as he drew out the night-vision goggles. Slipping it over his gasmask, he put the goggles on and pressed the button.

“Whoa!” One of the raiders was almost standing next to him. They had advanced quicker and quieter than Triggerhoof had anticipated.

“HAHA! Gotcha!” the raider shouted, and let the bullets fly. Triggerhoof had just enough time to dive into a roll. The bullets struck not him, but the raider walking next to the trigger happy one.

“Dammit! Watch your fire!” the leader said.

“Yes, but he was right in front of—“

A heavy boom ended the argument; a pistol shot that was not intended for Triggerhoof, but for the raider.

“Man down,” the leader said, and he chuckled.

These guys are nuts, Triggerhoof thought, as he watched the troop of filthy, scrawny raiders through his night vision goggles. There were about two dozen of them, maybe more. They were all fanned out, walking in a line further and further into the hall in between the large racks of boxes.

What was he to do now? He could go guns blazing, but then he would only be able to gun one of them down, before he himself would die. As soon as the muzzle flash of his guns would announce the deadly bullets, they would see it and know where he was. He had to think of something out-of-the-box. Fast.

Triggerhoof looked at the forklift, and hoped that there was some fuel in it.

“Yo, boss,” one of the raiders said, “why don’t we just pepper the whole damn room with lead. Then we’ll be sure to get him.”

There was a hiss and the sound of a slap. The leader tried to see who had given that suggestion. Then he gave up, and said, “Who said that?”

“That was Peter,” another voice said back.

“Good.” The raider hissed a curse. “As soon as I can see your dirty face, I’ll kill you, Peter. I’m the one with the ideas. How dare you offer such a good idea instead of me.” He did an attempt to look at his men, but couldn’t see a thing. “That accounts for all of you. If you have a good idea, just whisper it in my ear, and then I will voice it. Understood?”

The other men grumbled their approval. The bold ones said ‘yes.’

“Now, let us kill a pony,” the leader said. “Everyone, take your position!”

The raiders shuffled on their feet, making sure not to stand in front of someone else’s gun barrel.

“Take aim!”

But the leader forgot there was nothing to aim at. It was still dark, of course.

“FIRE!”

The sound of the gunshots drowned out the rumbling of the forklift’s engine. Triggerhoof ducked behind the wheel, as he tried to speed up as fast as he could. In the flashes of light, the leader of the raiders saw the forklift approaching. But it wasn’t heading for the group. At the last moment, the forklift veered off, and slammed at full speed into one of the racks stacked full of boxes.

Before the raider leader could fathom what that ‘little pony’ had done, an avalanche of metal descended on him and his troops. He wanted to utter a cry or a curse, but his head became crushed underneath the weight of a supply box. The hallway was filled with screams and the crushing sound of bones. One or two last gunshots sounded, trying to overrule the clanging and banging of the boxes. Then, after a small echo, everything went quiet.

Triggerhoof jumped off the seat of the forklift, and immediately fell down. A sharp pain traveled like a cold lightning bolt through his body. He felt the wet blood underneath his hoof. Uttering something between a grunt and a curse, he tried to stand on his hoof, but found that he couldn’t. Luckily, he was a pegasus, so he flapped his wings and hovered in midair.

Ignoring the pain and the dripping of blood, Triggerhoof scanned the pile of smashed raiders for any survivors. There were a few stuck ones, a few free ones. It didn’t matter. Trigg gunned them all down. Just when he thought he had them all, he saw one more raider. A crate had fallen on his legs, and he was fumbling in the dark as if he could wriggle himself free. Making sure no weapons were within the raider’s reach, Triggerhoof slipped off his night vision goggles, switched on his flashlight, and looked him in the eye.

“Pl-pl-please don’t kill me,” the raider said. His voice was trembling, and he was obviously in shock. Triggerhoof noticed a puddle on the ground that wasn’t blood. Had that raider been crying? Unfortunately, the raider’s next words were poorly chosen. “I-I-I w-was just following orders…”

BANG!

“So am I,” Triggerhoof said.

He stepped back and looked at his foreleg, the one he had needed to steer the forklift. Two holes.

Could be worse…

Triggerhoof took a moment to bandage it quickly. It took him longer than he wanted. At last he finished the knot, nodded in satisfaction, and flew back to watch the crates. None of them had opened as they had tumbled down the racks, so the medical supplies should still be in mint condition. This was better than Triggerhoof could ever have hoped; crates full of medical supplies, unopened and untainted by radiation. The only thing was…

How the fuck am I going to find the stuff I need in this big damn hall?

Triggerhoof had no idea. Maybe he could go back to his home base and ask the general for a search-and-retrieve mission with the tank. But that would take even more time, and Trigg had seen the state of some of the poor devils back home; they would perhaps be dead even before he returned with the meds. In a sense, their lives rested on broad pony shoulders.

Of course he wasn’t going to wrap his head around it in the dark. There could still be hostiles in the rest of the bunker. Triggerhoof flapped his wings, checked the load of his weapons, and proceeded further into the bunker.

There were definitely more raiders in the bunker, but they didn’t pose a threat to the well-armed pegasus. He had to land in order to fire his weapons, so he had been in pain several times. He stopped his salvo and leaned against the wall, dizzy from blood loss. Before him, the bullet-ridden body of a dirty slut slumped down, the surprise still etched on her face.

He had traveled to many strange rooms and had seen many junkies. Some of the rooms had been living quarters, often with raiders in them still tripping on their ‘stuff.’ One room had been a very strange one. There was blood all over the place, and various scalpels, tweezers, and other medical instruments lay scattered on the tables—obviously used. What troubled Triggerhoof was that he knew no one of the filthy raiders would likely have medical experience. No, Triggerhoof knew what the room was used for, as a fire burned in one corner, with a glowing, red-hot iron bar in it.

There was only one more room to check, the deepest one in the bunker, which was beginning to look like a tomb with all the bodies lying around. After a sigh through gritted teeth, Triggerhoof hovered over to the door.

Once again the lock wasn’t shotgun-shell-resistant. The door opened with a squeak.

“What the fuck is this?”

People in white lab coats, spotted with dirt and blood, were standing about. The women had taken cover beneath tables in the far back, while the men stood and watched Triggerhoof with bafflement and surprise etched on their faces. Triggerhoof couldn’t possibly make out whether they were relieved or mortified. The people in the lab coats weren’t certain yet either.

Everyone was standing still. The room looked like a picture; static. Triggerhoof saw that the room wasn’t much of a room; it was a laboratory. Glass vials and microscopes were standing everywhere. There were dozens of chemistry stations scattered all about with tubes and burners and strange, bubbling, colored substances. Triggerhoof didn’t need to ask anyone what they were making. Drugs.

“A-a-are you going to kill us?” a thin man with glasses asked Triggerhoof.

“I dunno,” Triggerhoof said. “First I want a clear view of the situation.”

The thin man cocked his head. He was shivering like a blade of grass in the wind. “Wh-what do you mean?”

Triggerhoof sighed. “What the fuck happened here?”

The thin man needed a long moment to calm down and get his voice to stop stuttering. He started telling, then stopped and retried several times. At last came the whole story.

“We are the last survivors of the apocalypse… a-a-at least in this hospital. When the bombs fell, everyone retreated to the bunkers, as we had practiced.”

“Go on,” Triggerhoof said, leaning against the door and keeping his guns trained on the lab coats.

“We waited for years, hoping that the background radiation would diminish. We wanted to go up, you know, and try to rebuild… something, anything. That, and our supply of food was running thin. It was the dumbest decision we had ever made. We should have done better to just starve to death. It was just… just terrible.”

“Just tell me what happened,” Triggerhoof said. “I don’t have time for pathetic stories.”

The man began stuttering again. “W-w-we encountered a group of raiders. They took us by force. Some of us they killed outright; I suppose those were the lucky ones. Th-th-they learned of the location of the bunker, and we had to lead them to it. Once we were all inside, they slaughtered the injured. All of them. But then they saw how we could serve them while still being alive. I don’t even know how long we have been making drugs for them, but it must have been years. S-s-sometimes they… they…” The man took off his glasses and covered his eyes with his hand.

Wimp, Triggerhoof thought, and looked at another person. He was also thin, but wore a beard. He took the hint, and finished the tale. “Sometimes, when the raiders thought that we weren’t working fast enough, they would get one of us and do… nasty things.”

“W-w-we could hear their screams all the way in the lab,” the man with the glasses said in a wavering voice.

Triggerhoof’s tense, combat-ready posture relaxed a bit. These people were no danger to him. He had saved them. In the silence that followed the tale, Triggerhoof looked at the lab coats one by one. “I’m looking for someone specialized in medicines who can help me to retrieve specific medication. Can somebody do that?”

“Most of us are trained doctors,” the bearded man said. Then he stepped back and waved his arms. “Just pick one.”

Triggerhoof scanned the crowd of doctors. Wherever his gaze fell, gazes were turned away. No one dared to look the rugged, blood-soaked pony in the eyes.

After some minutes, Triggerhoof made his choice. He drew breath to speak, but then a soft, delicate voice interrupted him.

“I will go.”

A pony, white, with only a few stains on her coat, stepped forward from the group. She had a pink mane that she wore in a messy bun underneath a nurse’s cap. She stepped forward and stopped much closer than Triggerhoof wanted her. He grunted.

“Does it hurt?” The white pony said, having completely mistaken the meaning of Trigg’s grunt. She further intruded the pegasus’s personal space, trying to get a closer look at the bloody bandages on his foreleg.

Another pony?! Triggerhoof did his best to hide his bafflement, but succeeded only partly. The white pony, however, couldn’t hide her shock, and her deep blue eyes shone with astonishment. Looking up, the white pony met Trigg’s gaze, when Triggerhoof jerked his hoof away. “I’m alright,” he grunted.

“My name is nurse Redheart,” the white pony said.

Triggerhoof turned around. “Let’s just go,” he said gruffly, and flapped his wings.

Nurse Redheart followed.

“A-a-are we free to go?” the man with the glasses asked Triggerhoof.

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Trigg answered. “As long as you don’t stab me in the back.”

All the way towards the storage depot, Triggerhoof was silent, and that was driving nurse Redheart crazy. She had so many things to ask that red, well-armed pegasus. She looked down and stepped over the bloody corpses of the raiders with a small wince. She trotted to catch up with Triggerhoof, and then finally asked a question.

“What’s your name?”

But Trigg was not in the mood to talk. “Names don’t matter. What matters is the mission.”

“Is that why you’re here? Why… or how did you come here?”

Of course Triggerhoof flew towards this hospital, but he knew very well that was not what the pony meant. Triggerhoof snorted. “Same way you came here, I guess.”

Nurse Redheart remembered how she ended up on Earth; it was the most tragic day in her life. Although the exact reason and details remained elusive to her mind, the image she had seen was forever burned into her eyes. If it really had been so violent and extreme and powerful, then it made sense that more ponies became victims, whisked away from the face of Equestria to end up in this horrible, horrible world.

“Are-are you from Equestria too?”

“No more questions,” Trigg snapped.

“What mission were you talking about?”

“I said, no… more… QUESTIONS!”

Nurse Redheart would have liked to ask Triggerhoof some more questions, but didn’t dare to. From the looks of him, the red pegasus wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her and pick an other, less talkative doctor.

And so they reached the depot in silence, leaving many questions unasked and many riddles unsolved. They got to work. Nurse Redheart proved to know exactly how the crates were organized and which medicines lay in which crate. She winced at the sight of the crushed raiders, and looked aghast at their mutilated bodies and crushed skulls. Triggerhoof looked back, and saw that nurse Redheart’s face turned green. For a moment, Triggerhoof thought she was going to throw up, but she kept what little food was in her stomach in her stomach.

Good girl, Triggerhoof thought. You might last a day out there. Maybe two.

In a matter of minutes, Triggerhoof had found what he was looking for. His saddlebags were filled to the rim with medication, and he was already making plans in his head to do a search-and-retrieve mission, which he would lead, next to the general. He looked forward to ride in the tank again. He turned towards nurse Redheart. “We will be back to get the rest of the meds,” he stated.

Nurse Redheart jumped in shock. “But… what about us?”

“I dunno. Sing a song, do a dance, make something of your life.”

“B-b-but.” Nurse Redheart felt tears burning. Why was she crying? “I-I-I can’t… Take me with you.”

“Negative,” Triggerhoof said.

Nurse Redheart looked the stallion deep into his eyes. “Please!”

“Even if I wanted that—which I don’t—there’s no way you’re gonna make it through the area. Miles of irradiated, fucked-up, crater-ridden terrain lies between this facility and home base. You wouldn’t make it one mile.”

“B-b-but what else can I do?” Nurse Redheart poured every liter of desperation in her voice. She didn’t want to be left alone.

Triggerhoof turned his back on the pony and let out a long sigh. With a voice edged with irritation he said, “Look, just try to hold up here before we come back for the meds. Maybe, m-a-y-b-e, we can take you with us on the way back.” He shrugged. “But maybe not. In that case, figure something out with your friends or so.” Flapping his wings, Trigg headed for the doorway.

Nurse Redheart stomped her hoof on the ground. Tears streamed from her eyes. With a cracked voice, she said, “You’re no better than the raiders!”

Triggerhoof paused, if only for a few seconds. “Miss, I am well aware of that.” And with that, he put on his gasmask and left the bunker behind him.

Chapter two: a good man and a pony

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Chapter two: A good man and a pony

The dawn was already announcing itself as Triggerhoof neared Crossroads Bunker. Behind him, the yellow sun came up, looking like another nuclear explosion on the horizon. Another nuclear explosion… like the ones that destroyed America just a few years ago, transforming enormous cities bustling with life into crater-shaped mass graveyards. Beneath him, the ruins of skyscrapers, apartment buildings, schools, and many more buildings drifted slowly past. Triggerhoof was flying as close to the sickly green clouds as he could. High enough to spot hostiles before they spotted him, and to make himself as hard a target as possible.

He didn’t dare to fly in the clouds, or fly through it. He didn’t know what they were made of, but they somehow looked… evil. Poisonous. And probably radioactive. Triggerhoof looked at his front leg, where scraps of ruptured protective suit were waving in the wind. He had bandaged it, alright,but he wasn’t at all at ease with the situation. It was one of the first lessons the general had taught him: never go outside without protection. Triggerhoof closed his eyes for a second, and tried his best not to think of the radiation or contamination that threatened him now. A shudder travelled through his body, making him lose some altitude.

“Come on, you idiot. Snap out of it. Focus!”

He forced his breathing to calm down, so that the filters of his gasmask wouldn’t suddenly clog up. That would make everything much worse. Triggerhoof found that he couldn’t calm down. The warmth of his rapid breaths began to manifest as a white haze on his visor. He cursed, and yelled at the clouds.

“I said, SNAP OUT OF IT!”

Then he got an idea. He looked on his Geiger counter, and saw something that reassured him. The needle was in the green. No need to worry. And to be extra extra sure, Triggerhoof reached back in his backpack, brought out the disc-like gasmask filter, and changed the used one with the new one.

There. Done. Now stop worrying.

He did manage to stop worrying about the danger of radiation. As he felt his nerves calm down, a sudden tiredness seeped in and slowly took hold of his body, as the strain of his wounds and the long distance he had flown in his heavy protective suit caught up with him.

But he was content. His mission was a success. Soon, the sick would get their medicine and their lives would be prolonged, so they could spend even more time in this terrible, blasted world. Sometimes everything he tried to do in this world seemed so pointless. Didn’t matter. The mission was completed; he had once again proven his resourcefulness to the general.

The familiar building with the neon red cross on it came into view, and Triggerhoof started to descent. From the outside, the building didn’t look like much, despite the neon sign. It looked just like another building ruined by the heat and shockwave of the bombs, and years of decay. But there was more to it than meets the eye. Beneath it was his home, Crossroads Bunker. He silently wondered if more people would have arrived during his absence, drawn to the light like moths. People dressed in filthy rags with improvised or no gasmasks came to Crossroads Hospital to find aid… and they found it. They usually came at night, when the light was even more visible. A light of hope in a dark and cruel world.

Triggerhoof landed and walked through the doorway without doors. He went left, through a hallway, through the utility room, until he stood before the steel door of the bunker. All he had to do was follow the arrows.

Triggerhoof rapped his hooves upon the door. Three short raps, three long raps, and then three short ones again. It was the Morse signal for ‘SOS,’ a message the general himself had taught him long ago. It meant that there was someone friendly at the other side of the door. Any other pattern, and the watchman at the other side of the door would be alarmed, bring backup, and be on his guard.

There was no reason for that, of course. The intercom buzzed to life, and the camera above the door swiveled into position. Triggerhoof looked into it.

“Hey hello, look who we have here,” A voice said through the intercom. It was a low bass voice with a heavy, mocking undertone. Triggerhoof knew who it was.

“Just open the door, Andrei.”

“Awwwwww…” Andrei said through the intercom. “Our pretty prancing pony wants in. Tell you what, I’ll let you in if you do a cute little trick.”

Triggerhoof grumbled. A scowl marked his face. “Stop fucking around and open the damn door, Andrei!”

“I’d never thought a pony that cute could sound so mad,” Andrei said. The door remained closed. “Do a little dance, my little pony, and I will let you in.”

“Just SHUT UP!” Triggerhoof turned around and bucked against the door. The sound rung through the air and through the intercom. There was silence for a while, then, a new voice spoke, but not to Triggerhoof; to Andrei.

“Why do you let our top Heat Seeker stand outside, private? Don’t you even know how important his mission is? Open the door. Now!”

Triggerhoof recognized the voice, and a crooked smile formed on his lips. He sprung up, and waved his hoof in front of the camera in a salute. “General Johansson, sir.”

“At ease, soldier,” the calm voice of General Johansson sounded from the intercom. “We’ll get you in, and I promise you can kick that clown’s ass as a bonus reward—after you deliver the meds, of course.”

“Of course sir,” Triggerhoof said. The rest of the conversation became interrupted by the hiss and the metal grating as the enormous vault door opened.

They had improvised a little ‘airlock’, which also functioned as the guard chamber. Andrei, with his bald head, was sitting on a wooden chair, and the general was next to him. Both wore heavy protective suits, body armor, gasmasks, and automatic weapons, just in case the people on the other side of the door weren’t friendly.

Triggerhoof did want to make another salute to the general, but he swayed on his hooves. His head swam from blood loss, and the hours he had spent fighting and scavenging weighed down heavily. He rocked back and forth, and then his knees gave way and he fell against the wall.

“Andrei, close the door,” General Johansson ordered. Then he reached the pony with one step of his long legs, and helped him on his hooves.

With any other person, Triggerhoof would have shrugged the hand off his shoulders. But this was his general, his commander, his leader. He let General Johansson help him back on his hooves, but didn’t look him in the eyes. He felt hot and the visor of his gasmask once again fogged. Yet this fog wasn’t produced by panic; it was the result of the shame he felt. He gritted his teeth and made a wobbly salute. “Thank you sir. Excuse me for the state I’m in.”

A heavy thud and the hissing of the locks interrupted General Johansson’s answer, so Triggerhoof couldn’t find out whether the general was disappointed with his entrance.

General Johansson eyed Triggerhoof’s saddlebags, stacked full of medication. “Well done, soldier. You saved many lives today.”

“Mission successful, sir,” Triggerhoof said, finally meeting the general’s gaze, seeing them gleam. He really was proud of him.

General Johansson smiled, but his smile quickly disappeared again as he gave the pony a closer look. Underneath Trigg’s hoof, a small puddle of blood had formed as they had been speaking. And little streams of blood cascaded down from his ear upon his suit. “Let’s get you to the infirmary, soldier. After that, debriefing in my office. I would very much like to know how you received these injuries.”

“The infirmary won’t be necessary, sir,” Triggerhoof said, doing his best to stand straight. “I’m fine.”

The general’s smile turned into a scowl. “No you’re not. Don’t be foolish. A real soldier takes care of his body.”

“A real soldier doesn’t let a scrape and a bruise get in the way of his commander’s debriefing.”

Doing a step back, the general once again looked Triggerhoof over. Then he shook his head. The smile reappeared on his face. “Let me give you a little analogy, soldier, a little analogy that is based on real life experience. You know how we got the Winter and ended up here?”

“Of course, sir,” Triggerhoof said. He knew the general was talking about the tank. It was a legendary story.

“Well, the damn thing broke down a couple of times during our trip. Hell, we had almost run out of gasmask filters when we got here, and only because that tin can broke down so many times.”

Triggerhoof was silent and listened. Although he didn’t like the way General Johansson was talking about the tank, he kept in mind that the thing theoretically belonged to the general.

“But every time the thing was broken, we patched it up so it would be able to get into many more fights. If a sturdy, armor-plated battle machine such as the Winter can get broken, than a little pony can too.”

Triggerhoof winced, but kept listening.

“So we need to patch you up as we patched up the tank. Now take off that suit and get your hindquarters to the infirmary. That is an order.”

And with those words, Johansson turned around on the heels of his heavy boots. “Andrei, help Triggerhoof with his gear. And no fucking around this time. Understood?”

Andrei straightened up and saluted. “Sir, yes sir.”

“Very well.” General Johansson stepped through the door at the other end of the airlock and walked away.

Andrei walked over to Triggerhoof and undid the straps of the weapons he was carrying. As soon as the weight of the two heavy guns was lifted from Trigg’s sides, he had an easier time standing up straight. Andrei placed the guns on a stand, next to other weapons. Machineguns, sniper rifles, shotguns with under-barrel grenade launchers, grenades, and even a missile launcher capable of shooting down a helicopter mid-air stood neatly arranged and next to each other. Triggerhoof looked at them as a father would look at his children, full of pride and eagerness to go outside and play with them. That last weapon run sure upped our arsenal, he thought with a smile on his lips.

Andrei reached for the zipper of Triggerhoof’s protective suit and pulled it down. Once the suit was off, Andrei tossed it to a far corner into a bin, which stood underneath the ‘Danger! Radiation’ sign. It would be decontaminated, fixed, and made ready for use on the next mission. The moment the suit was off, Triggerhoof looked twice as small as with it on. He reached up, took the gasmask off his muzzle, and flung it in the bin too. Then he turned around and looked at Andrei.

“Now what the fuck was that at the door?”

Andrei shrugged and let a smile curl his lips. “Hey, you know, just having a bit of fun. We don’t get to have a lot of fun in this shit-ass world, right?”

Triggerhoof did a step closer. “We don’t need fun in this world. We need to be vigilant, tough, professional. You’re a professional soldier, right? Then behave like one!”

Trigg’s last words were so loud and carried such violence, that Andrei tumbled back down upon his chair.

“At ease, soldier,” Triggerhoof said mockingly, then walked out the door.

The bunker underneath Crossroads Hospital was slightly different than the one Triggerhoof had turned into a junkie graveyard. There was a big steel elevator, reinforced with thick bars of metal and carrying a cage that went down, deeper into the earth. This bunker was much more advanced than the other one, and certainly better stocked. It almost looked as if it was designed to live in permanently. From what the doctor had told Triggerhoof, it hadn’t been easy to get the massive generator back to full working order after the Electro Magnetic Pulse, or EMP, that the atomic bombs created. But once it was finally restored, thanks to the hospital’s mechanics who had been saved, there was power everywhere; a real luxury in this world. The residents knew they were lucky.

On the ground floor, there wasn’t much. Even though the walls of the bunker were reinforced with layers of lead, the people in it still preferred to live and work a floor lower, just in case. There were a few airlocks which all lead to four different exits, and they were always guarded, day and night.

The first sublevel was home to the military. Everything a soldier needed to protect the people in the bunker was there. A mess hall, offices, storage depots for weapons and armor, crew’s quarters, and even a shooting range. It was not as if those halls and rooms were meant to be used by the military, but when the soldiers came, they found sublevel one practical, and the space suited their needs. Sublevel one was Triggerhoof’s home. His world. A place where he was safe and where he was surrounded with fellow soldiers, comrades in arms, and sometimes even people who understood him.

The medical personnel had made their home on the second sublevel. In contrast to the military’s first sublevel, which had been empty before the soldiers came, the second sublevel had been well-stocked and well-organized. The bunker stood beneath a hospital, after all, so all the operation rooms and offices and bedchambers were ready to use from the first day. An entire sublevel was dedicated to medicine, and always fully manned, because so many doctors had managed to flee into the bunkers the day that the world came to an end. Triggerhoof didn’t like going there. Hospitals were for weak people. He might be a pony, but he wasn’t weak.

Triggerhoof pressed the button of sublevel two, and with the grating sound of metal accompanying him, the elevator went down. Once he reached the second sublevel, Triggerhoof stepped out and walked through the hallways. The walls were made of concrete, which were painted white. Every sublevel had its own color. White was for the medical quarters, grey for the military, and a light blue for the civilian levels, where Triggerhoof never came. On the third sublevel there were living quarters, workstations, schools, and even little farms, illuminated by UV lamps that made it possible to grow their own food. Those were the people Triggerhoof helped to protect, yet he never took the time to visit them. It had never been necessary.

A darker grey was for the deepest sublevel, where they kept supplies and where the generator hummed twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Nobody went there but technicians.

At the end of the hallway was the doctor’s chamber. Triggerhoof could have gone to the chambers closest to the elevator, but instead, he hovered to the last one. The sound of typing came from it. As soon as Triggerhoof’s head appeared in the doorway, however, the typing stopped.

“Raspberry! It is you!”

Doctor John Goodman stood up and almost ran towards the pony.

“You know I don’t want you to call me—“ Triggerhoof began, but was cut short by the doctor’s embrace and a sharp pain in his front leg.

Doctor Goodman ended his embrace later than Triggerhoof would have wanted. “I’m so glad you are back, alive!”

“What did you expect? Trigg said.

John Goodman stepped back and looked the pony over with an experienced doctor’s eye, searching for possible injuries. He didn’t need to search for long. Seeing the wounds, he let out a gasp. “Oh my! What happened out there?”

“Long story,” Triggerhoof said, “but I got the meds.”

“Indeed you do.” Doctor Goodman grabbed Trigg’s saddlebags and called his assistant. Minutes later, a young doctor walked into the room, and Goodman gave him the meds. The young doctor retreated, but not before complimenting the pony soldier. “Thanks to you, many will live to see another day. Thank you, Mister Triggerhoof.”

“Don’t mention it,” Triggerhoof said without looking at the doctor. Instead, he looked at Goodman. “Can you patch me up, John?”

“But of course, of course,” Doctor Goodman said. He motioned to a bench standing in the middle of his office. “Please take a seat.”

Triggerhoof hovered over and sat down, as the doctor ran a diagnostic.

“Hmm… You don’t seem to have broken something. Your ear is grazed by a bullet, but it looks worse than it is. And for your leg…” He unwrapped the dirty bandage and looked closely at the wound with a pocket flashlight. “It’s not infected but— oh no!”

Triggerhoof looked up. “What is it?”

Doctor Goodman looked the pony in his deep green eyes. Worried look met worried look. “I’m afraid the bullet is still in there,” Doctor Goodman said, as if the pony had just an hour left to live.

Triggerhoof snorted and shifted his position. “Well, just get it out then.”

“Eh…” Doctor Goodman took off his glasses and put the flashlight down. “The pain will probably be excruciating; the bullet is very deep. Can you manage it?”

“Can I manage it?” Triggerhoof said, imitating the doctor’s high voice. “I’ve been through worse than you, doc. Just do it.”

“A-a-alright.” Doctor Goodman turned his back to the pony and gathered his supplies; a stool, a bowl, water, disinfectant, tweezers, scalpel, and some more stuff. Then he rolled up his sleeves, pushed his glasses firmly on his nose, and began.

“I just can’t believe they sent you on a solo mission. I mean, anything can happen out there! A little pony alone on Ground Zero… You know, Raspberry Trick, I didn’t like Johansson’s decision. Didn’t like it one bit.” He kept his pocket flashlight in his hand as he lowered the scalpel in the wound.

“It was a calculated decision,” Triggerhoof said, looking at the ceiling. “I was the only one able to cover such a big distance on the wing. You know all the other hospitals in the neighborhood have already been ransacked. General Johansson knew the risks, I knew the risks. My safety has never been in— AH!

A burst of pain cut Triggerhoof’s answer short. He yelled, and gritted his teeth against the white hot flares. Doctor Goodman’s treatment hurt more than the raider’s shot had done. But unlucky for the pony, Goodman wasn’t done yet.

“I just cut away some tissue to have a better view at the wound. Just hold still.”

“Affirmative.” But the word was spoken through gritted teeth, and might as well have been a curse.

Doctor Goodman reached back, grabbed a smaller scalpel, and resumed his operation. “Oh my! I have rarely seen a wound so deep. Oh Raspberry, what have they done to you?”

Triggerhoof grunted. “I told you my name isn’t—GTSKHA!”

Trigg’s words were deformed by the second burst of pain, which rolled through his body like a molten rock. He almost felt like fainting, but kept himself conscious by a mental slap in the face.

“I almost lost my little Raspberry Trick,” Doctor Goodman said. His hands were smeared with blood, and he reached for a wet towel to wipe them off. “The general shouldn’t put you on dangerous missions like this.” He looked the pony in the eyes, and waited until he looked back. “I couldn’t bear to lose you…”

“Don’t be so sappy, doctor,” Triggerhoof said, gazing at his foreleg.

But Doctor Goodman didn’t resume his operation yet. “Why do you never call me ‘father,’ or at least ‘dad?’”

Triggerhoof narrowed his eyes. “Because you’re not my dad. My dad died with the world I came from.”

“I… I… I don’t think that is true.” Doctor Goodman felt tears coming and wiped his eyes with a new napkin. “T-t-that just… just couldn’t have happened.”

“Just because you watch that little girl show My Little Pony doesn’t mean you’re an expert on Equestria. I saw it with my own eyes, even though I was bleeding out.”

“And still I don’t believe it,” Doctor Goodman said. He wiped away his tears one last time before returning to his work. He grabbed the tweezers and switched on his flashlight. “I believe everything happens with a reason. God makes sure everything does. He has a plan for each of us, although I’m still trying to figure out the plan He has for you.”

Triggerhoof flung his other foreleg in the air. “God, God, it’s always your God. Well, if your God exists, why didn’t He save the world, instead of destroying it? Why did He let that happen? Goddammit, Goodman, I—AAAAAAHH!”

“No blasphemy in my office,” Goodman said. “I will gladly tell you about Him, but only if you keep an open mind.”

“Spare me the lecture,” Trigg said, trying to mentally destroy the pain, just as he destroyed that raider junkie compound.

As if he were reading the pony’s mind, Goodman said, “What on Earth did happen there anyway?”

“Raider compound,” Triggerhoof said. “Cleared it.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, I destroyed them all.”

Doctor Goodman stepped back and let out a sigh. “Good heavens, little Raspberry. Why did you have to do that?”

“Because they would have done the same to me. Doesn’t your Bible say to do with others the same things they would do to you?”

“No,” Goodman said. “’Treat others as you yourself would like to be treated.’”

“Whatever.”

Goodman looked at the wound again, and handled the tweezers. “And how did that make you feel?”

“What do you mean?” Trigg said.

“How did killing all those human beings make you feel?”

Trigg sighed. “Oh please doc, not this again.”

“Yes, this again,” Doctor Goodman said, his gentle and high voice gaining some sort of strictness, without losing his gentle tone. “Your psychological wellbeing is just as important as your physical wellbeing.”

“Negative. A tank doesn’t need psychology to function. It just needs to fight and be patched up, that’s all. I think you’re overreact—AH!”

The pain felt as if Doctor Goodman was putting something in Triggerhoof, instead of taking something out. A white-hot railroad spike, perhaps.

“There we go.” Doctor Goodman said. Trigg’s eyes were closed, but he heard the metallic clang of the bullet falling in the bowl. He knew the job was done. Finally.

Doctor Goodman proceeded to clean the wound and the one on Trigg’s ear and put some new bandages on both of them. “Now that didn’t hurt, did it?”

Triggerhoof disagreed, but said nothing, knowing that a curse would sprout another lecture—maybe even a lecture about God, if he was unlucky. He looked at Doctor Goodman, who stepped back after finishing the bandage around the pony’s ear. “Are we done now?”

But the doctor didn’t answer. He stepped further back, seeming to look entranced at Triggerhoof, as if he were a painter looking at his latest work. He whispered the pony’s name. “Oh, my little Raspberry Trick. Just… just look at you. Look at the stallion you have become.”

Triggerhoof wasn’t sure whether Doctor Goodman sounded disappointed or appraising. Or maybe he was just stating a fact. Trigg had always been a stallion, although the years on this hellish earth had changed him. Not that he gave that much thought. Triggerhoof considered himself to have grown. He saw himself as somepony who bought clothes that are too large, and then grew into them. He had grown into the world.

A year of intense training, scavenging missions, and other military operations had earned him his place in the Heat Seekers. In a sense, he had got something back after all he had lost.

Doctor Goodman was still silent, but Triggerhoof knew that silence wouldn’t last long. He knew that something sappy would come now. He knew that Doctor Goodman would remind him of his youth, or perhaps the moment he had found him, in that crater filled with strange lights and radiation. Trigg decided to take away the chance. “There was another pony.”

The doctor seemed to wake up from his trance. “Another pony? What do you mean?”

“I mean it as I said it. There was another pony in that bunker, a mare.”

It took Doctor John Goodman a long while to process Triggerhoof’s words. They sounded unreal, illogical. His brows shot up, and then settled down into a thinking frown. “How… how remarkable. What did she look like?”

Triggerhoof told him what she looked like.

“Well I’ll be,” Goodman said, his voice growing to a whisper. “Nurse Redheart is here too…”

With a flap of his wings, Triggerhoof jumped off the bench and landed on the ground gently. Then he looked up to the doctor. “You know her?”

“Yes,” Goodman said. “I saw her in Baby Cakes, an episode of My Little Pony.”

Triggerhoof was about to say how girly and childish that sounded, but chose not to disturb Goodman’s musings.

Puzzled as he was, Goodman sat down in his office chair. “How strange… another pony on Earth… What does that mean…?”

“Why don’t you think this over alone?” Triggerhoof said. “I have to go to general Johansson for debriefing. We can talk more later.”

But Doctor Goodman didn’t seem to notice him anymore. He threaded and unthreaded his fingers, while his dark brows remained furrowed.

Good, Triggerhoof thought as he left the doctor’s office behind. At least he’s not gonna tell me how he found me for the hundredth time.

One year ago.

“Are you sure it is a good idea to search this close to the city?”

John Goodman shouted to prevent his words from being blown away by the harsh, radioactive winds. Goodman noticed that they blew in from the city, and his voice was laden with worry.

Behind him, the small squadron of soldiers, five of them, fanned out to let their leader step forward. “Well, you have to get your supplies from someplace,” General Johansson said. “And besides, we have protection.”

But still Doctor Goodman’s mind was not at ease. He looked forwards, where the contours of yet another ruined hospital arose in the haze ahead. He hoped it wouldn’t be raining. He wasn’t sure the suit would protect against a long fallout, a rain made of radioactive dust.

He had been the unlucky one to go to Ground Zero. The inhabitants of Crossroads Bunker needed supplies. Fast. By now, supply runs had become so common that they had to send out at least one party of Heat Seekers a day. Goodman was the most experienced medical man, so people were glad that it was his turn. He wasn’t. The other scientists and doctors put their faith in him, knowing that he would make sure that the right things were gathered, and the junk was left behind.

But Goodman was a scientist, not a soldier, and least of all a hiker. He moved clumsily in his lead-lined suit. The suit made every step more difficult and heavier than the last. Needless to say, Goodman was puffing and panting.

The soldiers had an easier time moving around; they had had plenty of practice. Goodman walked in the middle, while the squadron of Heat Seekers covered the rear and the flanks, looking out for threats. So far, they hadn’t encountered much, but they still were on high alert. Raiders had the tendency to pop up in places where you least expected them. And of course, there could be reds nearby. Hell, even General Johansson could only guess where the Russian checkpoints were situated. Despite his suit and his helmet, General Johansson tried to listen to sounds carried by the wind. The sounds of gunshots.

“How far do you think the commies are?” Andrei asked another soldier to his right, Amanda.

“I don’t know,” came the firm voice of Simon. “Why don’t you ask them yourself?”

“Haha, very funny,” Andrei said. “You know I came from the other side of the city. Came all the way just to help you. You should be thankful.”

Simon scoffed. “You came all the way to help us? Yeah, sure.”

“It’s true,” Andrei said. “You can ask President Yaroslav yourself if you want.”

Now Simon was sure Andrei was lying. He saw the mental picture, him going to the president of Russia and asking if his soldier spoke the truth. Why does this man always say such strange things?

They marched on for a while, moving carefully over the cracked asphalt towards the hospital. The roads weren’t exactly smooth anymore, but they were the fastest way towards big buildings. According to General Johansson’s maps, this road had to lead right to it.

The road curved upwards, making way for another road snaking by underneath. They stood on a viaduct.

General Johansson held a fist in the air. “Everyone, stop!”

The squadron plus Goodman stopped. Doctor Goodman looked with fearful eyes at the general.

“Amanda, can you do a quick sweep before we enter the ruins?” Johansson said. “Something about this place feels… off. Check if you see any reds on the scope. We’ll fan out and keep a close eye on the perimeter.”

“Roger that,” Amanda said, and raised her sniper rifle. She looked through the long-range scope, keeping the building in the crosshairs. She turned the knob to increase her vision and sharpen it. Scanning the surroundings of the building, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just crumbled walls without windows and many roofs. She watched the dull, grey block closely, trying to spot the color red somewhere, but she didn’t see anything. Then, just to be sure, the crosshair traveled upwards towards the top of the building. No red flag waved in the air, but Amanda saw something entirely different.

A falling star shot through the heavens, leaving a red trail behind itself. “Wow,” Amanda whispered, and made a wish.

Unless she wished for the falling star to change direction, her wish didn’t yet come true. The tail the falling star dragged along shortened. It took Amanda two seconds to realize what was happening.

“Look alive, everyone, we got incoming!” She called.

“There! In the sky!” General Johansson’s finger jabbed at the incoming projectile, lighting up a fiery red.

“It’s a missile!” Amanda shouted. She had to shout, because a rumble like a jet engine filled the air, growing louder as the projectile soared onwards.

Doctor Goodman looked at the ‘falling star.’ His voice caught in his throat. “I-i-i-it’s heading straight for us!”

General Johansson tried his best to remain calm. Even though he knew that a nuclear missile strike this close would kill them all, he was not going to go down without at least some attempt to save his—and his squad’s—life. “Everyone! Get down!”

His last thought before the thing struck home was, Where the hell did they get their hands on nukes?

With a thundering roar, the red, shining object covered the last few miles, and struck home. It transformed into a ball of vicious, red fire, sweeping over the asphalt viaduct. Goodman and the Heat Seekers could feel the heat on their skin, threatening to boil them alive in their protective suits. But the fire was just a halo, and it passed over them, traveling further and setting scrawny, dead trees on fire.

Johansson knew very well what would come next: the shockwave. Heat, shockwave, radiation; those were the components of a lovely atomic bomb.

Yes, the shockwave came, but it wasn’t at all as heavy as they all thought. They would have been blown away and smashed to pieces, their limbs torn from their bodies by the sheer force of the bomb, even though it was just a tactical nuke. It didn’t happen that way, and they could hold on to the crash barriers on both sides of the freeway. They managed to keep their feet on the ground.

Johansson was the first to open his eyes, and saw what had happened. The flying danger had passed them by. It had landed instead in an old bomb crater, making it even bigger than it already was. Johansson looked around at the rest of his squad. “Everybody alive? Any injuries?”

“What?” Andrei yelled.

“Any injuries!” Johansson repeated.

Apart from some, probably permanent, ear damage, they were alright. “We’re good,” Goodman said, who was the only one who had covered his ears.

After a minute or two, everybody was standing next to each other behind the crash barrier, looking at the trail of smoke rising from the crater.

“You think the warhead didn’t detonate?” Andrei asked.

Simon, their sixty-year-old survival expert, frowned behind the visor of his gasmask. “In all my years in the military, I have never seen such a strange tactical nuclear bomb. My closest guess is an EMP, but my digital watch is still working.”

Johansson turned to Simon. He knew how valuable his advice was, for he had seen many things, many weapons, and somehow always came out alive. “What do you say, Simon?”

“I say investigate it,” Simon said. “Then we know what we are dealing with and find a way to counter, or at least avoid it in the future.”

Johansson thought for a moment, then nodded. “I say that is a good decision. Whatever that thing was, learning how to avoid it is a tactical gain.” He led the way. “Let’s go.”

With much effort, sweating and panting, Doctor Goodman managed to catch up with the long-legged general. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Affirmative,” Johansson said.

Doctor Goodman wanted to ask another question, but fell behind. He didn’t have the strength to keep up with the general. Goodman was exhausted.

They walked down the viaduct and headed towards the crater, all the while staying alert and scanning the surroundings for hostiles. At last, they reached the rim of the smoking crater, and they all took a peek.

Inside, on the bottom of the blackened soil, was a strange structure. It shone and shimmered in their flashlight beams, reflecting the light and breaking it into a spectrum of colors. It looked like ice, but that was impossible. If it were ice, it should have melted. No, it looked more like a crystal of some sorts. The core of the thing glowed blood-red, further adding to the ominous looks. It looked almost like a flower which hadn’t bloomed yet. Everyone let out a gasp.

Suddenly, light pulsed from the crystal. Everybody flinched and covered their eyes with their hands. Sparks of sizzling light sprouted from the crystal flower, running along its sides and gathering at the top. Then the crystal cracked, and the flower opened its petals. There was something inside of it.

As soon as the hellish light retreated, the Heat Seekers jumped into position. They scattered and crouched around the crater, keeping their guns trained on the figure that lay inside. But they didn’t shoot yet. They waited for the command of their general.

“What do you think it is?” Andrei said.

“I have no idea,” came the answer from Amanda.

Andrei clicked the safety off his gun. “Should we shoot it?”

Everybody waited in silence.

Doctor Goodman, who had recoiled from the strange light source, crawled back towards the rim of the crater. With shaky hands, he grabbed his automatic and took his position between the Heat Seekers. When he looked into the crater, however, he lowered his gun and uttered a cry.

“What? What is the matter, lad? Do you know what it is?” Simon asked.

“I… I think so,” Goodman said slowly.

“It looks like… a creature?” Amanda said.

“Yes. Like a horse,” Johansson added.

Andrei looked through the sight of his gun. “Maybe it’s a mutant. I say we shoot it!”

Simon gave him a sidelong glance. “There are no mutants, Andrei; that is just a myth.”

Suddenly, Doctor Goodman jumped into the crater.

General Johansson’s eyes went wide. “Goodman, what are you doing! That thing might be dangerous!”

“I don’t think so,” John Goodman said. He slid down further into the crater, stirring the blackened dirt and rocks that formed the slope. When a clicking noise appeared, Goodman watched his Geiger counter. The needle was still in the green, but it was crawling towards the red the further he walked downhill into the crater.

Johansson heard it too. “There’s radiation in there, Goodman. For God’s sake, get out of there!”

But Doctor Goodman didn’t stop or slow down. He recognized the shape that lay curled up at the bottom of the crater. Johansson proved to be right, because there, lying as if asleep on the pedestal of crystal, was a pony.

He had a blood red hide and a frazzled, black mane and tail, Goodman saw. But there was also some red beneath him. He was bleeding. Goodman gasped. The wound looked grievous, and kept on bleeding. Quickly, he opened his backpack, and grabbed his emergency first aid kit. Seconds later, a tourniquet was secured to the pony’s leg, and the fountain of blood subsided.

Ignoring the rapid clicking of his Geiger counter, Doctor Goodman crouched down and tried to pick up the pony. It was a full-grown stallion, and even though it was just a pony, Goodman’s failing attempts only made him look comical—if he weren’t standing in a pit full of radiation. “Can somebody please give me a hand?”

“On it!” And before General Johansson could stop him, Brockheart jumped into the pit.

Together with the strong Brockheart, Goodman returned to the Heat Seekers, who still kept their guns aimed at the pony. As he reached them, a whole chorus of clicks sounded.

“Jesus, that thing is practically glowing,” Andrei said. “We should kill it now and be done with it.”

Johansson gave Andrei a piercing glare. “No, Andrei, we’ve got suits. We can handle the radiation. And I will assess its threat level.”

Goodman and Brockheart put the pony on the ground. Goodman raised his hands. “Don’t worry, everyone. He is not going to hurt you.”

Johansson stepped closer. “You know more about this, Goodman. What is that?”

“A pony, a My Little Pony, and it’s hurt. We have to return to Crossroads as quickly as possible!”

“My Little Pony?” Amanda asked with a voice as soft as silk. “Like, the tv show? Hm... now that you mention it, it does look like one.”

Johansson lowered his gun slowly. “And may I ask you, Doctor Goodman, how you know so much about this ‘My Little Pony?’”

Concerned as he was, Doctor John Goodman still managed a thin smile. “That’s a strange and awkward story.”

Chapter three: the Heat Seekers

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“Please come in, private Triggerhoof.”

Triggerhoof stepped through the door, gave a quick salute, and sat down in a chair opposite of the general’s huge desk.

Triggerhoof took a moment to look around. The general’s office was such a treasure-trove of information, it almost looked like a communication room, which they didn’t have. Many, many newspaper articles hung on the walls, categorized by the general’s own system. There was news from the time before the war, often with strategic value, or just for nostalgia.

BELARUS ACKNOWLEDGES YAROSLAV’S ‘COOPERATION TREATY’

Yaroslav claims it is best for the country.

ANOTHER COUNTRY FALLS FOR YAROSLAV’S ‘COOPERATION TREATY’

Ukraine is now in Russian hands.

RUSSIANS ANNEX POLAND

Yaroslav says: ‘They supported my decision.’

RUSSIAN INFLUENCE CONTINUES TO GROW

When will they stop ‘reclaiming’ their lost Soviets?

IS YAROSLAV BRINGING BACK COMMUNISM?

All signs point to the obvious.

TENSIONS BETWEEN EAST AND WEST CONTINUE TO RISE

President Winter says: ‘Things have never been this bad since the Cold War.’

Furthermore, there were books, pamphlets, and many posters bearing propaganda.

FIGHT FOR FREEDOM AND DEMOCRACY

HELP TO KEEP EUROPE ALIVE

NEVER FEAR THE RED SEAR

COMMUNISM HAS NO PLACE ON MOTHER EARTH

And at the center of it all was the map.

Over the course of many missions, General Johansson had been vigilant. He had looked with a close eye at the hellscape that was Ground Zero, taking in every building of interest, every mountain or natural obstacle, and every pit of radiation. At the center of the map was the crater, all that was left of the once great Aurora city. But the map was incomplete. At the bottom of the map, a long distance away from the crater, was the little town with the bunker they called home. From there, many military facilities were marked in green; places they could go back to and scavenge weapons, ammunition, armor, gasmask filters; everything the Heat Seekers and the rest of the soldiers needed. Some were crossed out, meaning that they either hadn’t survived the nuclear blasts, or had been scavenged until there was nothing of interest left.

But the farther away from Crossroads Bunker, the vaguer and more imprecise the map became. Miles and miles of land was still unexplored, as no one had needed or wanted to go that far. For all they knew, they could be the last survivors, but Johansson knew that that wasn’t at all true. In a sense, they were a little island in the sea, with other groups who were fighting each other much farther north.

“Would you like a celebratory drink, private?” Johansson said.

A polite smile appeared on the pony’s stubble-covered muzzle. “I would never refuse, sir.”

Johansson grabbed two glasses from a cabinet. Then he unlocked one of his desk drawers with a key, and grabbed a bottle of golden, swirling liquid. Whiskey.

“You know how rare this is, private Triggerhoof, so enjoy every drop,” Johansson said, as he filled the glasses.

Triggerhoof took one of the glasses, and looked at the swirling, almost glowing, whiskey.

“It’s a shame bars and cafés aren’t primary targets,” Johansson said, “or else I would have marked them with gold on the map.”

Triggerhoof’s smile stayed on his face. It grew even broader as he took the first sip. Damn, this is good!

General Johansson sat down and looked at the pony opposite him. “Let’s not get distracted by booze, soldier. Now I want to know how the mission went; you looked pretty beat-up.”

“There were… complications,” Triggerhoof said.

A darkness spread over Johansson’s face. “Reds?”

“No, sir. Raiders.”

A small sigh came from the general. “Good.” He stood up and walked towards the map, where he took an eraser, and erased a line. It was the line which marked the boundaries of what Johansson thought was the territory the reds had annexed. Now Johansson knew that the reds weren’t as close as he thought they were. He adjusted the lines, and sat down again. “How many raiders were there?”

Triggerhoof took a sip of whiskey, paused to let his tongue be treated by the flavor, and then said, “I don’t know. Four dozen, maybe more. They set up shop in a bunker underneath the hospital.”

“That’s not a shop, that’s a compound,” Johansson said. “Did you clear it, or did you have to retreat?”

“Don’t insult me, General. Of course I cleared it. Killed every last one of them.”

The general threaded his fingers. “Very good. They won’t be bothering anyone else.” He paused to look in Triggerhoof’s eyes. They were the eyes of a warrior, of a person—a pony—who was used to killing for a cause, even if the cause was people huddled together in a bunker.

And Triggerhoof looked back. From all the people, all the soldiers in Crossroads Bunker, General Johansson was the man he wanted to be. He was Trigg’s example. The general unthreaded his hands. They were big hands with long fingers. Hands that had taken as many lives as they had made tactical decisions. In Triggerhoof’s eyes, General Johansson was a born leader; a living legend.

“But there’s something you’re not telling me, Triggerhoof,” Johansson said. “What ‘complications’ did you encounter? Surely the raiders weren’t the ‘complications’ you meant.”

“They weren’t,” Trigg said. “It was what they were doing that disturbed me.”

“And what was that?”

Trigg told the story about how the doctors were forced to make drugs for the raiders. “There were many of them, General. Many doctors, I mean. Their bunker wasn’t as advanced as Crossroads, but it did manage to save those people from the atomic bombs.”

Johansson stroked his red beard. “Yes… I know what you mean. I had thought about that, you know, about other settlements; other places where people would be protected from the radiation and try to build a life for themselves. We already know that we’re not the only ones, thanks to those damn Russian scouting parties.” Johansson slammed his hand on the desk. “But enough about my musings. I want to know about the tactical value of the place.”

“High,” Trigg said. “There was practically a whole hall with boxes of meds. We could do a search-and-retrieve mission with the Winter. The raiders are all dead. The only resistance would be from the doctors, but I doubt that they know how to hold a weapon properly, let alone fire one.”

“So you brought the medication back and discovered a new supply location?! That deserves another round!” Johansson grabbed both glasses and refilled them. Then he raised his. “To new hope! Skål!”

“Cheers,” Triggerhoof said, and then both pony and man drank up their whiskey in one gulp.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Johansson just wanted to have someone to talk to. He suddenly stood up and paced around his office in thought. “You know, Triggerhoof, sometimes I wonder what we are doing here.”

Triggerhoof raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, sir?”

Johansson waved his hands around. “I mean this, Crossroads Bunker. After the bombs fell, we set out with the Winter, looking for the army—our army—to rejoin them. I wanted to fight for America again, my country. I wanted to mean something again, to have a cause and pledge my heart and soul and body to it. But we never found our army. Not one single soldier who carried the American colors. Just reds. Communists… Filth…. And then, well…”

“You found us,” Triggerhoof finished for him.

“That’s right. We had no supplies left, so we knew that the bunker was our only chance at survival. We basically stranded here. And we never left, as you can see.” Johansson pointed at himself.

“I think I understand,” Triggerhoof said. “You want to go to them, to the U.S. military—if they are still out there somewhere.”

Johansson pointed a finger to the roof. “Oh, yes. They are out there.” His voice was as firm as if he were stating a fact. “They are out there, together with our president. There is no way they let our president die in the apocalypse. I’m sure he leads his troops in a base, or a bunker. I know he will never abandon his soldiers.”

“He’s just hard to get to,” Triggerhoof said.

The general walked towards his map, then stabbed a finger to the north. “They are up here. I know it.” His finger was trembling as he jerked it away from the map and waved it around like he was holding a knife. “Dammit! If only we had a functioning radio… Can you believe it, Triggerhoof? Three, almost four years we have been here, underground, in a scientific and medical facility—and yet we have never had a radio that actually works. All we have is that bare-bones piece of junk, which I can’t even begin to call a radio!”

Johansson grabbed the bottle, poured another glass for himself, and emptied it in one single gulp. “For years we have been searching for bullets, weapons, food, medicines, and parts for medical machines for god’s sake, but never for parts for a radio.”

Triggerhoof was unsure if he should say something. He said something. “I reckon the council doesn’t think a radio is a high priority piece of equipment.”

Johansson sighed like a balloon deflating. “Not a high priority… Back in the military, a radio was worth its weight in gold. A radio was our lifeline, our way of communicating to home base.”

“But sir, we are home base.”

Johansson stopped pacing around, and looked with flaring eyes at the pony. “What do you mean?”

Triggerhoof shrugged. “There is no home base to signal to. And then again, maybe it is better that way. Imagine if the doctors got their hands on a working radio. Those goodie two shoes would no doubt broadcast an offer to help everyone. Imagine our position known by all the raiders, reds, and other scum. The doctors could compromise our security, just now when we are so tactically situated.”

Upon hearing that advice, Johansson relaxed a little. “You’re right. We are an island in the sea, after all.”

“An island in the sea, sir.”

Johansson sat down in his chair, visibly cooled down. He fidgeted with his fingers. “But just imagine we would have a radio. The military, I mean. Then it’s just a matter of setting it up and adjust to the right wavelength. I’m sure that with a little searching, we could find them, the U.S. military. Then it’s just a matter of gathering enough supplies and travel to them.”

Something in those words and that intonation stirred Triggerhoof’s heart. “I beg your pardon, sir, but are you thinking of leaving Crossroads behind?”

General Johansson rubbed the back of his head with his hands. “I don’t know, soldier. I just… don’t know.”

Triggerhoof looked at the doubtful face of his general. He still wasn’t sure he just heard what the general told him. “With all due respect, sir, but leaving Crossroads is a bad idea. As soon as the military would be gone, it would be left unprotected, up for grabs by whoever wants to come and live in it. It will be unprotected. Raiders can attack and slaughter us, or maybe we’ll get annexed by the communists.”

Johansson sighed and lowered his hands. “Yes, I suppose you’re right, and I do admire your devotion to our operation here. It’s just that I want to fight for something bigger. I want to kill those communists and rebuild our nation with freedom and security. Those filthy communists who still think bombing our great nation isn’t enough. Those filthy communists who would murder everything we stand for. Those filthy communists who want to annex all of the States. Ha! Let them try.”

“That’s an honorable goal, sir,” Triggerhoof said.

“Thank you.” Johansson stopped pacing around and sat down in his chair again. “Thank you for listening to the ramblings of an old veteran.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Sometimes… sometimes I wish they would find us, get us out of here, and unleash our full potential in the army.”

“I hope that day will come soon, sir,” Triggerhoof said.

Johansson still stared at the ceiling, dreaming, planning, hoping. “I hope so too, soldier. Dismissed!”

Triggerhoof had an uneasy feeling in his stomach upon leaving the general’s office behind. It could have been because of the words the general had spoken… The voice of his commander and his patriotic mindset always inspired Triggerhoof. But the last things he said, about leaving Crossroads, it sprouted a strange feeling deep inside Trigg’s gut.

Or maybe he was just hungry. Killing things always made Triggerhoof hungry.

He went towards the elevator, pressed the button, and ended up on the first sublevel; the military area. Once he was there, Triggerhoof took a moment to sniff the air. Gunpowder and bravery… the recipe for an unstoppable army.

Imagining a nice late dinner, Triggerhoof entered the mess hall, and saw the rest of the Heat Seekers sitting at a table, eating and playing cards.

“Hey! Look who we have here,” the cheerful voice of Brockheart sounded. He stood up and walked towards Triggerhoof. “We missed you, buddy. For a moment, we were actually concerned about you, you know?”

“I wasn’t!” Andrei called from the table.

Brockheart’s embrace was tight, but not tight enough. With a simple shift of his weight, Triggerhoof managed to break free. “I’m fucking hungry, Brockheart.”

Brockheart patted the pony on the head. “And you haven’t changed a bit.”

Triggerhoof chose not to laugh at that pun, which was easy, and went to get a plate full of food. There were potatoes, vegetables, and even some fruit. No meat. No one had ever thought of bringing animals inside the bunker when the bombs fell. Then again, there were probably not many animals around during that time. Sometimes someone got lucky on Ground Zero and shot a bird, brought it down, and cooked it up. Eating meat had become a status symbol in Crossroads Bunker.

Triggerhoof sat down amongst the other Heat Seekers and dug in.

The Heat Seekers… formed after the Winter reached Crossroads Bunker, bringing in all kinds of protection. They were considered the finest, most versatile, and most deadly team in the Crossroads military. The composition of the team had changed over the years. Members got shot by commies, got irradiated, or disappeared or died from other reasons. But this team had been around for long, very long. With a mouth full of potatoes, Triggerhoof looked around at his comrades in arms.

Next to him sat Brockheart, the dark-skinned demolitions expert of the Heat Seekers. A demolition expert was always handy in a team. Locked chests, locked bunkers, locked storage facilities; they had all bowed to Brockheart’s—sometimes home-made—explosives. Triggerhoof had asked him about his dark skin tone, but hadn’t received a satisfying answer. Apparently, there was a land named ‘Africa’ where everyone looked like that because of the sun. Triggerhoof found that weird. When he walked in the sun, his coat didn’t change, right?

“A-a-are you alright, Trigg?” Amanda said. She had the softest, most delicate and warm voice Triggerhoof had ever heard. She was the team’s sniper. While her voice did sometimes stutter, her hands never hesitated to pull the trigger and take down the enemy. Her auburn hair fell over one side of her face as she looked at Triggerhoof’s injuries with those sparkly blue eyes.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Triggerhoof said. He didn’t snap to Amanda. He never snapped to Amanda. Nobody ever snapped at Amanda. It was just something that was not done, neither in the bunker, nor on Ground Zero.

Opposite of him sat Andrei. “As if it is a rarity for our little pony to get beat up by the baddies, heh.”

Andrei was their Russian scout. Having someone who spoke Russian and wasn’t a communist was a priceless asset to any team. He knew about the enemy, about their tactics and about their motivation.

Triggerhoof gave Andrei a hard kick with his hooves.

“Ouch!”

“I’d say he deserved that,” Simon said. The sixty-year-old survival expert, always properly dressed, knew a lot. He had seen many things, and harbored the secrets to survive them. Everybody could always come to him to ask for advice and counsel, both of which Simon readily gave.

“How was the mission?” Brockheart asked with a smile. “Was it fun? Come on, man, spill us the secrets already!”

Triggerhoof swallowed some potato and took a sip of water. “It was a strange mission.”

“Oh! I like strange missions. Was it a good strange or a bad strange?”

Andrei shot Brockheart a look. “He was out on Ground Zero. Of course it was a bad strange.”

“Andrei’s right,” Trigg said. “It was a bad strange. Lots of fucked-up shit going on in that bunker.”

“They had a bunker? Awesome!” And then Brockheart proceeded to ask Triggerhoof many, many questions. Triggerhoof did his best to answer the demolitionist’s questions, leaving no stone unturned. The only thing he told them nothing about was the pony.

Simon fumbled with his moustache. “That sounds quite interesting if you ask me. Another bunker with people who survived the war, that is not something you see every day.”

Andrei scowled. “I hope you killed every single one of those raider bastards.”

Triggerhoof nodded, and stabbed his broccoli with his fork.

“Heh,” Andrei said. “I guess those doctors didn’t stand a chance against the raiders. I guess they still don’t know what hit them. Why are doctors always so weak?”

Simon shot him an irritated look. “May I kindly remind you that we have many wonderful doctors in our own bunker, who do their best to improve the lives of both the military and everyone who lives here?”

Andrei returned the stare. “I’m just pointing out that without the military, without the Heat Seekers, they are nothing.”

Amanda looked over at the argument with fearful eyes. It looked as if she was going to say something, but then closed her mouth again.

Next to them, at the far end of the table, a young man in soldier garbs sat down. Brockheart had seen him before; he was one of the refugees who had arrived a few days ago. Apparently he had a military background, and was stationed with the rest of the military.

“Hey there, man,” Brockheart said. “You’re checking out the big boys here?”

“I-I-In a way, yes,” the young man answered. “I have heard of you guys. But… I always wondered… why are you called the ‘Heat Seekers?’”

“Because we seek and brave the heat,” Brockheart answered, and patted himself on the heart. The pride radiated off his voice.

“But I still don’t understand the ‘heat?’”

Andrei looked the man in the eyes. “Heat, radiation, kid. What, have you never been to Ground Zero before? I thought you came from up there.”

The young man said nothing, obviously stunned by Andrei’s aggressive tone. As quietly and stealthily as he could, he grabbed his plate and went to sit somewhere else.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Amanda said, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

“What did you say?” Andrei said.

Amanda shrunk. “Nothing… nothing.”

Triggerhoof decided to help Amanda, and changed topic. “So, what were you guys talking about?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” Simon said with a wave of his hands.

“Mutants!” Brockheart said, as if he were happy to see one.

Andrei looked up. “Yes, mutants.”

“Aw, not again,” Simon said.

“Yes again,” Andrei said. “They are real, I tell you. When I was back at checkpoint thirteen, the officers there gave some soldiers the task of scouting out the nearby metro stations, looking for a place to be protected from the fallout. You know, a place where they could make a nice base.” Andrei lowered his voice as if he were telling a scary story around the campfire. “All I can say is that very few soldiers returned from that place. Like, ten went into the tunnels, and three came out. And their stories were insane. They told of slimy things, with empty, soulless eyes, and wings. They were fast, and had fangs that would put Count Dracula to shame. Of course, I was always the first to check on the poor men who had been sent down below. But the commander wasn’t at all happy with what they said. He thought they had gone mad, and he shot them. ‘We have no use for mad soldiers,’ he said, ‘who’s next?’”

Andrei paused to look at his crowd. Amanda was practically shaking, Brockheart listened with childlike curiosity, Simon and Triggerhoof looked bored and uninterested. Nevertheless, Andrei continued.

“So eventually, they stopped sending men down below, said that the tunnels were unsafe and could collapse. But I knew the real reason why they didn’t send any more men.”

“Because there was the danger of a collapsing tunnel,” Simon said.

“No. Because there are mutants! Creatures that have been tainted by radiation, biological weapons, and who knows what more. They are creatures almost from another dimension, ready to devour everything in their paths.”

“And have you ever seen one, Mister Andrei?” Simon said.

Andrei rubbed his bald head. “Well… njet. But I have heard them. I heard their terrible hiss, as if they spoke curse words through clenched teeth. Obviously they scrutinized our way of life. Maybe… maybe they even breed in the metro systems. Maybe they reproduce their evil kind. I tell you, soon there will be an other dominant species on earth, and it will be—”

“Mutants?” Simon said, not at all convinced.

“Yes, Mutants,” Andrei said. “Believe it or not, but I have seen what they could do to a man. I would never, ever, not for one million Rubles, go into a metro tunnel on Ground Zero.”

Triggerhoof looked at the terrified Amanda, and then turned his attention to the Russian storyteller. “Man, you have read too many of those Metro novels, Andrei,” he said. “And I see they have rotten away your brains.”

Andrei veered up. “What?! Those are good, Russian literature. You could learn stuff from those books. Pfa! Read too many metro books… There are just two of them, so I can’t even read too many of them!”

“Lucky you,” Triggerhoof said in a monotonous voice, before he took another sip.

There was a silence in the group. Brockheart decided to continue the card game they were playing, while Triggerhoof finished his dinner. He walked towards the counter to hand over his empty plate, and took a moment to enjoy the silence. He looked over at his friends. From the outside, they didn’t even look like military personnel, let alone a team. But Triggerhoof would gladly put his life in their hands, and so would the others. Triggerhoof had worked hard to earn his place with the Heat Seekers, and had scars to show for it. In a sense, he had reached his life goal; becoming a Heat Seeker. As he walked back to the table, he wondered when they would go on a mission together, and was already looking forward to it.

When Triggerhoof returned and sat down, another conversation was going on. Simon was speaking.

“Well, of course I have never talked to him personally, but I have seen many of his speeches on the television and heard his words on the radio. President Winter is a calm, collective man. He was always serious and honest about the position of America in the world, and the relations with Eastern Europe and Russia. Does that answer your question, Amanda?”

Amanda nodded.

Andrei spat on the ground. “Well, if that president of yours was so calm and collected, then how in the hell did he start World War Three?”

Any other person would have punched Andrei for his nasty words about President Winter. But they were the Heat Seekers, and they had to set an example. And besides, they had had this argument before. ‘Whose fault is it?’

Simon furrowed his grey brows in thought, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. “I… honestly don’t know. It was as much a surprise for me as it was for everyone else, I suppose. The day that I sat in the guards’ office at Crossroads Hospital, watching the television absentmindedly, and when the news reporter confirmed the nuclear strike on New York…” Simon sighed. For a moment, he seemed to be weeping, but then he resumed his tale. “It was the most horrible day of my life. Then the panic came. Panic, screaming, people running everywhere and nowhere, not knowing where to go, what to do. Well, I knew what to do. We rounded up as many doctors as we could, and then sealed the doors, battened down the hatches. God knows how many people we had to leave behind.”

“But remember,” Andrei said, stabbing a finger in the air, “America fired first.”

Simon looked pained. “Yes, Andrei, I suppose we did. But… it was just a warning shot. President Winter said it himself.”

“Warning shot, ha!” Andrei scoffed. “The destruction of a whole town and turning the whole Krym into an irradiated wasteland wasn’t a ‘warning shot.’ Then Hiroshima was a ‘warning shot,’ and Nagasaki also. I had relatives in Sevastopol, for God’s sake.”

“Eh, maybe we should…” Amanda said, but her voice trailed off.

Triggerhoof heard her. “Stop your jabbering about the fucking blame, Andrei, or I’ll stuff a potato in your mouth to help you shut up.”

Not the kind of solution or words Amanda would have liked to use, but they did the trick.

Brockheart saw that the mood was turning sour. With almost comical movements, he faked a loud yawn, spreading his black, muscled arms wide. “Wow, it is late! I think I should go to bed. You folks all know I need my beauty sleep.”

Andrei was about to say something nasty, but shut his mouth. Amanda smiled in silence.

Simon stood up too. “Well, I presume my bedtime has also come.” He wiggled his foot. ”I think these old bones need a rest. Who knows what may happen tomorrow?”

“I hope a mission,” Andrei said. “I’m dying for some action.”

“Hey, me too,” Brockheart said with a smile.

Andrei pointed to the cards. “We’ll continue playing tomorrow. Amanda, guard those cards with your life.”

The voice of Andrei was so threatening, that Amanda could do nothing but nod.

“He was just kidding,” Brockheart said softly to her, and gave her a wink. Amanda returned his wink with a soft smile. “Good night, Brockheart.”

“Good night, Amanda. Sweet dreams.” And then Brockheart waved her a kiss.

They left the mess hall almost completely empty. The only sounds came from the cooks who were scurrying around, clearing away all the plates and putting away their forks, spoons, and knives. But as they worked their way towards the kitchen, those sounds too, died away. Triggerhoof and Amanda were the only two left in the silence.

Both of them took a moment to enjoy this silence. In a world devastated by nuclear fire, or in a bunker with hundreds of other people, a true, absolute silence was rare. Both of them closed their eyes, breathed in, breathed out. When they opened their eyes again, they noticed they were staring in each other’s eyes. Their gazes quickly searched for another target.

At last, after an awkward minute, Amanda spoke. “You… you should get some rest. You know, for the wounds to heal.”

Trigg nodded. “I should.” But then why didn’t he get up and leave?

Another minute of awkward silence followed. Amanda was trying to find a way to stand up and leave and go to bed. But she found that she couldn’t. She mustered some courage, and looked at the scar-covered pony opposite of her. His deep, green eyes betrayed nothing. They had grown cold, Amanda realized. She wanted to help Triggerhoof, to unfreeze those hard eyes. Finally, she figured out something to say, something that suited the silence well.

“Do you miss Equestria, Raspberry Trick?”

That was not something Triggerhoof expected. In all those years, during all of those missions, Amanda had never asked such a delicate, yet direct and exposing question. Trigg looked at the ground, thinking of an answer. “It’s hard to miss something when you barely remember it.”

Amanda looked away. “Don’t you remember anything?”

“No. I was lying on the ground, my head hazy from blood loss. Hell, I could barely see! The only things I could see were fire… magic… death. Equestria is gone, Amanda.”

“That’s just… just so hard to believe.”

Amanda was a huge fan of the My Little Pony television show, ever since she was little. For her, the image of that beautiful, fairy tale world just disappearing in smoke and fire was something she could neither picture nor believe.

“And the main six?”

Triggerhoof looked Amanda in the eyes, and forced his coarse voice to be gentle. “I’m sorry Amanda. I don’t know what happened to them.”

Amanda felt tears burning. “I-I-I just h-h-hope they are alright.”

In another time, in another place, Triggerhoof could have shared Amanda’s sorrow. But here, in this world, he couldn’t care less. There was nothing even the main six could do in this world to make it a nicer place. The only thing he himself could do was try and make it a safer place—for the right people.

“I don’t want to upset you, Amanda. You should cling on to that image you have of Equestria. That might help you sleep tonight. Just… just forget about what I said. It really was a nice place.”

“It was,” Amanda said, her voice a high whisper. “It was…”

Once again a silence, but not quite. In the light of the dimming lamps, Triggerhoof saw her shoulders twitching. He heard some soft sobs, and he swore he could see glistening tears travel down the young woman’s cheeks. In a sense, she was still a little girl deep down inside. Triggerhoof wanted to say something positive to lighten her spirits. He didn’t want to be responsible for sending Amanda to bed with a bucket load of nightmares about the ravaged world he came from. Triggerhoof frowned and stared at the ground in thought. Then he remembered what he had told Doctor Goodman, and knew it would give Amanda some hope.

“There was a pony.”

Amanda’s shoulders stopped twitching. “What do you mean?” she said, her voice betraying the sorrow she felt.

“In the bunker. There was a pony in there. A white one, wearing a nurse’s cap. She had pink hair.”

Amanda suddenly looked Triggerhoof in the eyes, forgetting to wipe her tears away. “Nurse Redheart!”

Somehow, Triggerhoof wasn’t surprised that Amanda too, knew of this pony. He still wasn’t at all curious about the matter, but he saw how just the name of that pony lightened up Amanda’s spirit. He decided to talk a bit longer about her. “What do you know of her?”

Amanda sighed. “Not much. She has only appeared in a couple of episodes, and never played a big role. She was a bit of a background pony. She comes from the Ponyville Hospital, which is a lovely building on the top of some forested foothills.”

“That sounds… beautiful.” Triggerhoof had a hard time imagining such a place again.

“Was… was she okay?” Amanda said.

“Yes she is,” Triggerhoof said, avoiding Amanda’s eyes. “She’s in good care.” That wasn’t even that big of a lie, because doctors are good at caring for people. Unfortunately they are not very good at taking care of themselves—considering the dumb mistake they made of opening their bunker to let the raiders in.

“Couldn’t you take her here?” But as Amanda said that, she realized how dumb she sounded.

Triggerhoof shook his head slowly. “She would never make the trip. She wasn’t a pegasus like me.”

“Yes… of course.”

“But we might get her here with the search-and-retrieve mission to that place,” he added quickly, trying to sound at least a little bit positive.

Amanda averted her gaze. “I sure hope we can…”

Triggerhoof thought the conversation was over, and placed his hooves on the table to stand up. But when he did, Amanda asked him one last question.

“You think there are more ponies out on Ground Zero?”

Triggerhoof turned his head. “I don’t know.” And with that, he walked out the mess hall, ready for a good night’s sleep.

Amanda stayed behind for a while, mulling over the question whether it would be good to have more ponies on Ground Zero, or whether that would be bad. Her tears were all the answers she got.

Chapter four: covert ops

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One month later.

“Does it still hurt?” Doctor Goodman said, as he looked over Trigg’s hoof one last time.

“It doesn’t,” Trigg said.

“Very good.” Doctor Goodman grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped them carefully around Trigg’s hoof. “Now if you stay calm and keep off that hoof for two more months, it will have healed—“

“Two more months?!”

Doctor Goodman recoiled from Trigg’s booming voice.

Triggerhoof scowled. “I don’t need two more months. I can easily walk on it.” And to demonstrate his words, Triggerhoof stepped off the bench, braced himself on his forehooves, and slammed his hind hooves into the bench, toppling it over.

Goodman put his hands to his hips. “Was that really necessary?”

But Trigg ignored him. “I haven’t had a mission for more than a month now. They need me, doctor. You remember the guy that died a couple of weeks ago, don’t you?”

Doctor Goodman took off his glasses and put a hand to his head. “Yes… I’m afraid I do. Such a tragic death. He was just a young man.”

“That’s right,” Trigg said. “That young man is dead because he had been placed in the Heat Seekers instead of me. Damn, Goodman, the kid was just a greenhorn. He needed way more training.” He shook his head. “But my point is, I need to go on a mission. The lives of my fellow soldiers, hell, the lives of everyone here in the bunker, depend on me.”

Goodman held out his hands, palms down.. “Hush now. Quiet now. There’s absolutely no reason to become all melodramatic. I am the doctor, and I am giving you an advice.”

“But—“

Doctor Goodman raised his hands. The pony shut up. “You are already ignoring all of my advices on your psychological wellbeing, Raspberry. Please, please, please don’t ignore my advice on your physical state too.”

Triggerhoof seemed to wage those words. The silence that followed was only broken by the hum of the electric lights in Goodman’s office.

Goodman himself took the time and the silence to observe his patient, his friend, his son. Every scar Triggerhoof wore told of savage battles. Every gunshot, knife stab, and shrapnel wound was clearly visible, marking the pony’s body like tattoos. Goodman felt a tear in his eye. He did no effort to hide it. “I… I just don’t want to lose you, Raspberry Trick.”

Triggerhoof cringed at the mention of his old name. Also, the sappiness made his heavy black brows furrow. “I feel a déjà vu moment coming up, doc.”

The sounds of heavy boots on concrete heralded the approach of a soldier. Triggerhoof smiled. Somehow, he knew he was coming his way. And, without needing to guess, he knew who it was.

Brockheart’s toothpaste-white smile appeared in the doorway. “Triggerhoof, the general has a mission for the Heat Seekers—all the Heat Seekers.” He paused to catch his breath. He had been rounding up all of the team members without pausing for a second.

“A mission? Out of the question,” Doctor Goodman said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Looking down at the pony, Brockheart saw that there were still bandages wrapped around his ear and front leg. “Can you walk, Trigg?”

“Yes,” said Triggerhoof.

“No,” said Doctor Goodman.

“Perfect!” Brockheart’s big, round eyes glittered. “We got the rest of the team ready in the briefing room. You can come when you’re done with the doctor.”

Doctor Goodman frowned at the complete ignorance of the soldier. But before he could say something, Triggerhoof cut him off.

“Actually, I’m already done with Doctor Goodman.”

“No you’re not,” Goodman said.

“Awesome!” Brockheart made a little jump. “Let’s go.” And then he was off.

Trigg gave the doctor a last glance as he stepped through the door. “I guess duty calls.”

Doctor Goodman looked back, and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “We will speak about this irresponsible decision later.”

Triggerhoof shrugged, and then he was gone. No way, doctor.

General Johansson had taken his map and had clipped it on the whiteboard of the briefing room. Brockheart, Amanda, Simon, and Andrei were gathered around, listening intently to what their general had to say. As Trigg entered the room, the general waved him over.

“Good to see you again, Private Triggerhoof,” Johansson said. “I think I can speak for all of us if I say that we missed you in the team.”

“Yeah,” Trigg said. “I guess the last replacement didn’t do so well.”

Johansson looked at the ground. “He didn’t, unfortunately.” It was then that he noticed Trigg’s bandages. “Are you sure you’re up for a new mission, Triggerhoof? Maybe you’d better—“

“Fill me in on the details, sir. The sooner we’re done with the mission, the sooner I can resume healing.”

Johansson didn’t like being cut off like that. Yet he knew it was Triggerhoof he was talking to, and Triggerhoof would always remain Triggerhoof. He smiled thinly, ignored the complete illogical answer Triggerhoof gave, and instead put a hand on the pony’s shoulders. “I like your enthusiasm, private.”

“It’s an honor to serve you and Crossroads,” Trigg said. It felt good to say that.

General Johansson turned around and pointed at the map. But then he spotted something. Walking towards the door, he took a step outside for a moment, looked left and right, and shut the door. Then he walked over to the whiteboard with the map.

“Is this a covert-ops?” Simon asked.

Johansson grinned. “You have a good observational eye, Simon. And as an answer to your question: yes, this is a covert-ops.”

“What does that mean?” Andrei asked.

“That means that the exact details of this mission will remain in this room and in your heads, not in your mouths,” Johansson said. “Yes, the doctors and scientists know of this mission, but they don’t know all of it.”

Amanda did a small step back. Obviously she felt bad about the idea of a secret mission. She wanted everything to be as clear as the scope of her sniper rifle. Andrei, on the other hand, seemed even more interested in this mission than before. He didn’t take his eyes off the general as he walked over to the whiteboard and pointed with his finger to a new dot. The dot bore not the familiar green color of military compounds. This one was blue.

“What does the blue one mean?” Andrei asked.

Turning around, General Johansson was actually smiling. “I am very pleased to tell you that we are going to search for materials to repair our radio.” He wanted to add ‘finally,’ to that, but decided to remain professional. “With the help of some of the military’s top technicians, we have already managed to get it to crackle. We still need critical components, among which is a long-range transmitter, so we can receive and send signals into Ground Zero with a satellite dish.”

Triggerhoof’s eyes sparkled, as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Of course the general wanted to keep the mission a secret; so that the scientists and doctors wouldn’t use the radio to send messages across the land. Once again, there was this queasy feeling in his stomach, as if two wolves were fighting over a piece of meat. One wolf supported the general’s decision; the other was still unsure. Nevertheless, Triggerhoof continued to listen.

“During one of our first scavenging missions, I spotted this building.” Johansson tapped the map. “It’s the television building of Channel Twenty-Four, the big news channel. As you all know, Channel Twenty-Four was founded when the tensions between East and West began to rise. It was intended to keep the American people up to date with the developments concerning Yaroslav’s… foreign politics.” Those last words sounded as if General Johansson needed a tow truck to yank them out of his mouth. The name ‘Yaroslav’ sounded like a curse on his lips.

“I see,” Simon said, stroking his moustache in thought. “The last thing I saw before everything went to hell was the news broadcast of the attack on New York, the last broadcast on Channel Twenty-Four.” The memory stung him, and he closed his eyes for a second or two.

“What do we need, sir?” Triggerhoof asked.

General Johansson grabbed five pieces of paper covered with a plastic film, and handed them over to the Heat Seekers. “Amongst other things, we need that long range transmitter and a small, portable satellite dish. Those things are demountable, so each of you can carry some parts. I know for sure that there are many pieces of broadcasting equipment in there, so you should find all the things you need easily. If you don’t know where to look, go upstairs to the recording studios. That would be your best bet.”

Johansson paused to let everyone memorize the parts. “If you find only broken parts, bring them in anyway. I’m sure our mechanics can find a way to fix them. If you find nothing, then get your asses back in the bunker. Your lives are more important to me than that radio.”

“We’ll clear out any resistance, General,” Triggerhoof said with a grim smile, “that is what we always do.”

“But we should still be careful…” Amanda said softly.

“That’s right, Amanda,” Johansson said. “Be quick, be ruthless, be brave… and be careful.”

Triggerhoof listened as Johansson recited their creed. Fueled by pride, he stuck out his hoof. All the Heat Seekers put their hands on his hoof and looked each other in the eyes.

“Be quick! Be ruthless! Be brave!” they shouted in unison.

“And remember,” Johansson said, “this remains a close military secret, but we do it for our country. Remember that, always.”

Suddenly, Brockheart jumped up. “Last one at the airlock is a snot-covered mutant!” He bolted off through the door.

Andrei immediately flew after him. “You got a head start you bastard!”

Next was Simon. “Mutants do not exist, you fool!” he shouted to them, but both Brockheart and Andrei were too far to hear him.

Triggerhoof looked General Johansson into his light blue eyes, and saluted. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

General Johansson crouched down and patted Triggerhoof on his head. “I know you won’t, private.” He spoke those words softly, affectionally, as if he were talking to his own son. Then he looked at Amanda and him both, and nudged with his head towards the door. “You two better get moving. You don’t want to end up as a snot-covered mutant, now would you?”

Amanda held back a soft chuckle. “No sir.”

And together with Triggerhoof, they walked towards the airlock.

They proved to be the last ones, so the Heat Seekers now had two snot-covered mutants amongst their members.

“S-s-shall I help you with your gear, Raspberry?” Amanda said.

Triggerhoof winced as Amanda said his name. He looked up to her with what he hoped was a soft expression. “Just call me Triggerhoof on this mission, Amanda.”

Amanda’s shoulders slumped down. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“And yes, you can help me with my suit and all. Zippers are still fucking hard to handle with hooves, just like belt buckles.”

Triggerhoof picked up his gasmask, checked the filter, and put it on his nose, while Amanda helped him to put on his protective suit. Once he was as tightly wrapped as a Christmas present, she proceeded to put the bullet-proof vest over his back and his belly, and strap some knee protectors over the pony’s elbows and his cannons. Last came the weapons. Amanda took the harness, which didn’t even resemble a saddle anymore, and strapped it to his back. As always, it took Triggerhoof a moment to adjust to the extra weight of his machine gun, his combat shotgun, and the saddlebags with equipment. He tested out his front leg, bouncing up and down a few times. He felt almost nothing. I guess I heal quickly.

His helmet came last. Triggerhoof checked the flashlight, and then looked at Amanda through the visor of his gasmask. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Amanda said, and proceeded to gather her own equipment, but not before gently stroking the pony’s head. It was a gesture he barely felt with his helmet on. But he felt it.

As Amanda geared up, Triggerhoof took a moment to look at his team members. He always loved seeing them like this; fully armed, fully armored, and ready for anything. This was how he would forever remember them; quick, ruthless, brave.

Andrei was impatiently waiting at the reinforced steel door. As always, he had his Kalashnikov AK-47 in his hand, toying around with it and twirling it around in his arms as if it were his baby. In his holster was his big, American, Smith and Wesson revolver, a brute that fired massive .44 Magnum rounds, delivering the highest stopping power a sidearm could give.

Sitting on the stool, giving his old bones a rest (although he himself would never admit that), Simon carried his assault rifle, and checked it over and over again, making sure that it would help him get out of yet more sticky situations. Sometimes he stopped, put his rifle down, and checked his 9mm pistol. It was a light sidearm, so the old man didn’t need to deal with a massive kickback every time he fired.

“Oh hell yeah, let’s do this!” Brockheart said. His head was almost invisible against his dark protective suit, creating the illusion that only his white eyes were visible. It looked as scary as it was funny. He walked around the weapon rack. “Where’s my baby, where’s my baby… there you are!” He picked up his grenade launcher, a lump of a gun capable of firing six high explosive grenades upon his foes. To make sure not to deliver a massive overkill all the time, he carried a light submachine gun as well. He used that thing usually when they were inside buildings, because grenades and unstable, war-ravaged buildings was not a good combination. “I missed you, honey,” Brockheart said, as he gave his grenade launcher a kiss. “You’re ready for some action, aren’t you? Yes you are, yes you are!” Then he looked at Amanda. “Are you ready too?”

Amanda nodded. Even though she wore a protective suit like the rest, her tall and thin figure was somehow still visible. In her hands she held her sniper rifle. It was a monster of a gun, firing enormous 50 caliber rounds which were as long as a one dollar bill. Aside from that she had a submachine gun just like Brockheart, for close quarter combat situations. She stepped forwards as Andrei opened the door. “Let’s go comrades!”

Andrei closed the door of the bunker after they were all out. The Heat Seekers had entered Ground Zero. Quickly, the Heat Seekers left Crossroads Bunker behind. They saw that it was day, for the sickly green air glowed, and the sun illuminated the swirling vapors that didn’t even resemble clouds anymore. Amanda looked at it and sighed. She missed the blue skies and puffy, white clouds. A memory brought her to her mother. The two of them could lie in the grass for hours, looking at the clouds in the sky and guessing what they looked like. Of course, that would never happen again.

“Stop dreaming, Amanda,” Andrei said, rudely interrupting her moment. “Let’s get moving.”

Immediately, they headed for the road—or what was left of it. Once, it had been busy with honking cars, traffic jams, and angry drivers. Now, it was completely deserted, with only a few rusted and dented automobiles lying on the road. Of course, those cars were completely picked clean. Every usable part had been taken out and taken underground to help the inhabitants of Crossroads Bunker survive.

The picture of the road brought back memories to Triggerhoof. He saw himself on the road, trotting from car to car, taking the most useful parts and putting them in his saddlebags. It had been his initiation ritual. All new soldiers were given these relatively safe missions to help them get used to the conditions of Ground Zero. Triggerhoof always completed those missions, and did something extra. Triggerhoof always did something extra. Triggerhoof always pushed himself harder than the others. And that was why Triggerhoof was a Heat Seeker, and the others weren’t.

The Heat Seekers continued to follow the road for a while, taking care not to trip over the massive cracks. Sometimes there were still skeletons in the cars. Amanda and Simon did their best to avoid looking at them, while Triggerhoof and Andrei looked with grim fascination. Sometimes they stopped and listened, trying to catch the sound of distant gunshots. Raiders, communists, other groups; gunshots could mean anything, but they were always important. Gunshots could break through the howling of the winds that blew through the ruins of buildings, filling the otherwise dull, dead city with signs of life—or death.

Suddenly, the road became blocked by a large apartment building, which had fallen over like a felled tree. All kinds of rubble and pieces of concrete lay around the fallen building, which made walking harder.

Simon, the oldest and most experienced member of the team, raised his fist in the air. “Stop everyone.”

Everyone stopped.

“We can’t go through here. Apparently, some storm must have blown the building on the road.”

Andrei scoffed. “Bullshit! The wind didn’t do this.”

“It certainly did,” Simon said, looking at Andrei through the visor of his gasmask. He pointed to the building. “Look! All the foundations have been destroyed by the shockwave.”

And indeed, as everyone looked, they saw that steel and concrete rose up from the ground like stems of flowers.

“What do we do?” Andrei said.

“We go through there.” Simon pointed to a set of railroad tracks which snaked beside them on the end of the road. They couldn’t see where the tracks were going, because they dipped down into a tunnel.

Andrei saw that too. The hairs on the back of his neck stood upright. “Can’t we just go around it?”

“We’re on a viaduct,” Triggerhoof said. “Unless you fancy a forty feet drop, we can’t simply go around the building.”

Brockheart suddenly chuckled. “What, are you scared of the mutants, Andrei?”

Andrei turned around and punched Brockheart against his gasmask, so he needed to readjust it. “No, I’m not! I’m just… eh… worried about the danger of a collapsing tunnel. No one wants to be buried under tons of dusty concrete, right?”

“You are right,” Simon said. His hand traveled upwards, but then went down again, as Simon remembered he wore a gasmask and couldn’t stroke his moustache without taking it off. “You are quite right, Andrei. It might indeed be dangerous. Yet, I see no other way of completing our mission without going through that tunnel.” But then he had an idea, and he looked at Triggerhoof. “My dear Triggerhoof, can you fly upwards and over the tunnel to check if it has collapsed? That would save us the trouble of walking to a dead end.”

“Yes sir,” Triggerhoof said. He flapped his wings and took to the sky.

He knew what he had to look for; holes in the road or the terrain above which could indicate a collapse. Yet he couldn’t find any. He returned to his squad and shared his findings.

“You hear? It’s perfectly safe,” Brockheart said. “It won’t collapse. Let’s go!” And then he jumped over the crash barrier and onto the tracks.

The others followed. Andrei still shivered, even though it was a warm, radioactive summer.

Everyone switched on their flashlights. Their powerful beams immediately chased away some of the darkness. They stepped slowly, keeping an eye on the sleepers so they didn’t trip. As hey advanced, the Heat Seekers encountered some dusty, grey trains and carriages, which were abandoned. Triggerhoof looked at them with fascination. A small flashback made him see the Friendship Express, the cheerful train that rode to all the corners of Equestria, bearing every color of the rainbow. With a shake of his head, Trigg got rid of the flashback. These trains looked nothing like the Friendship Express. He scolded himself. No more fantasizing.

“Whoa!” Brockheart’s flashlight jumped down. “Something moved.”

They heard a squeaking sound, like the wheels of a train. Everyone looked at the ground, scanning it. A couple of big rats ran away as fast as they could.

Andrei chuckled. “What’s wrong, Brockheart? Scared of rats?”

Brockheart said nothing, not giving Andrei the reaction he was hoping for. He silently scolded himself for playing that videogame, Fallout 3, too long. He used to love that game, but at the time, Brockheart could never have imagined that the video game would become his reality. His flashlight was restless, constantly jumping from one place to the other. Brockheart expected something to jump out of somewhere. Ghouls, giant irradiated mole rats, murderous robots… According to Fallout 3, there could be dozens of things waiting in the dark. Waiting, ready to strike.

Looking at the train carriages as they walked on, Simon gave them a close inspection. He hoped that there were people left inside, alive. But he knew that couldn’t be so. Hunger and radiation would probably have devoured any unlucky passengers within a week. If only they could have buried the train carts underground…

Triggerhoof was on edge. He generally didn’t like being underground for too long. It took away the most precious ability he had: flight. Crossroads Bunker was different; that was his home. He never needed to fly away or flee in there, unless it was from Andrei’s constant teasing. A small smile played around his stubble-covered lips, as he noticed how quiet Andrei had been since they had entered the metro tunnel. Obviously he was scared of mutants. Triggerhoof knew that those ‘mutants’ didn’t exist. He believed in what he could see and understand, and nothing more. But suddenly, as he scanned the walls, he saw something that he couldn’t understand. In a small portal in the wall, which opened to a utility room, hung something.

“What the fuck is that?!”

Andrei jumped up and turned around, as did Brockheart. In a split second, five flashlights illuminated the thing Triggerhoof pointed a hoof at.

It looked like a garbage bag, a green and transparent garbage bag, hanging upside down. A big rip went from top to bottom, and as Triggerhoof scanned it, he noticed that the floor around it was wet.

“Maybe we should check that out?” Brockheart said, although his tone was wavering, making his words sound like a question.

“Let’s not,” Andrei said. But when he saw that everyone was looking at him, he changed his demeanor. “I mean… let’s do it!” He drew out his big black knife, walked over to the hanging thing, and chopped it down.

“There, that wasn’t hard,” he said. Then he fell quiet, as he got a look inside the utility room.

There were about a dozen more of those green, transparent sacks dangling from the wall. All were ruptured, all were empty.

Triggerhoof walked towards one of them and ran his hoof through the inside. When he examined his hoof in the light of his flashlight, he saw he was holding some sort of green slime, obviously the stuff that had moistened the ground.

“In all my years in the military, I have never seen something quite like this,” Simon said.

“What do you think it is?” Brockheart said.

“M-m-m-mutants,” Amanda whispered, voicing Andrei’s thoughts.

Brockheart clacked his tongue. “Let’s get outta here, y’all. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Wimp,” Andrei said, although he was the first one to step into the metro tunnel again.

The Heat Seekers didn’t get a lot of time to think about what they had just seen, as the end of the tunnel was in sight. Andrei quickened his pace, taking the position at the head of the group. Brockheart noticed that, and muffled a laugh. When they were out of the metro tunnel, Brockheart expected the bald, Russian man to kiss the ground. Unfortunately, Andrei didn’t; he just waved his hands so the others would hurry up.

As soon as Triggerhoof saw the light and the sky above his head again, he felt better. Here he could fly, be maneuverable, have a tactical advantage. As far as Triggerhoof knew, humans didn’t fly, and that fact had proven very handy. Thanks to his flight, he had always popped out of unexpected corners, killing off the unvigilant enemy.

Simon grabbed his map and gave it a look. “According to the map, we should be close, everyone. Keep an eye out for large satellite discs and the number twenty-four.”

“Roger that,” Triggerhoof said, and took to the sky.

Having a scout who can fly is a huge asset to have in a team. Triggerhoof could easily spot both the satellite disc, as well as the once bright neon twenty-four between the rest of the crumbled buildings. Within a matter of minutes, the team reached the television building, guided there by Triggerhoof’s aerial reconnaissance.

“The place looks like shit,” Andrei said. “This’d better be good.”

“Took me the words out of my mouth,” Triggerhoof muttered.

Naturally, not a single window was left in the Channel Twenty-Four building. The enormous satellite disc on the top had toppled and fallen over, and it now resembled more of a bowl. The walls were crumbled and overgrown with moss, weed had taken over the parking lot, and the enormous numbers twenty-four were hanging lopsided.

“Hey, let’s keep a positive attitude, y’all,” Brockheart said, “maybe the top floors are in better condition.”

Andrei sneered. “You think?”

“You never know if you never try, Mister,” Brockheart said. With a comical jump, he went over the small, rust-covered fence, and entered the building. The others followed suit.

They could immediately see that there wasn’t much left of the ground floor. Broken tiles and cracked concrete surrounded them. It looked as if even the little useful things had been taken, which made them all wonder if they were in the territory of another group of survivors.

Triggerhoof got a small flashback to the hospital he ransacked, and knew that the goodies—more or less—should be hiding in hidden places. “Let’s go upstairs, everyone.”

Andrei was just about to put his boot on the first step, when Amanda said, “Wait.”

“Why? What’s the mat—“ but Amanda put a finger in front of her gasmask filter. Her terrified expression made Andrei shut up.

The Heat Seekers didn’t move. Instead they listened. There were no gunshots, but the thin, half-crumbled ceiling made the footsteps of whoever was on the other floor sound loud and clear.

Suddenly, the muffled footsteps stopped, and a voice, thin and cold, sounded.

“They should be here soon,” it said.

“Of course they should, just wait and see,” Another voice, almost the same as the first, said. “I didn’t spend all those days in that filthy bunker for nothing.”

“Hey, how did you get out anyway?”

“I faked my own death after I heard about the radio mission.”

“Clever… clever…”

Triggerhoof’s eyes went big, as he recognized one of the voices. It was the voice of that soldier who had asked about their name and who Andrei had chased away. A spy! Triggerhoof should have known; the man had acted a little uncertain.

Brockheart nudged with his head towards the door. He had a plan. Slowly, making sure to keep their footsteps quiet, the Heat Seekers walked out of the building. When they were all out, Brockheart went back in, stayed there a couple of minutes, and then went back out. With a smile on his face, he showed them the detonator for the explosive charge he had just placed.

“They are gonna get a nice little surprise,” Brockheart said. “Take positions, everyone.”

To the right and the left, the Heat Seekers were flanked by two other buildings. Some rubble lay scattered on the road. Rubble made good cover. Amanda kept her sniper rifle trained on the building. The rest also took positions and kept the Channel Twenty-Four building in their sights. Then Brockheart counted down.

“Five… four… three… two… one…”

A beautiful, orange explosion filled the Channel Twenty-Four building. The outward walls crumbled and fell down like a house of cards. Parts of the ceiling went with it.

Simon raised his hand. “Steady, everyone.”

“I got a visual!” Amanda said. Through the scope of her rifle, she saw two black shapes jump from the building. She couldn’t yet see what they were, for there were still clouds of smoke and dust around. “Permission to fire, sir?”

“Take the shot, Amanda,” Andrei said.

Amanda concentrated, breathed in, breathed out, and pulled the trigger.

The enormous bang of Amanda’s monstrous sniper rifle echoed through the streets. Amanda steadied herself and looked through her sights again. Through the dust and the smoke, the black figure still stood.

“Did you hit it?” Andrei shouted.

Amanda bit her lip. “I… I think so?”

“What kind of an answer is that?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Just shoot it again.”

Amanda looked through the scope of her rifle. Her voice trembled as she said, “I-I-I can’t see them. They’re gone.”

“What do you—“ But then Andrei shut up, as a strange sound filled the air. It was a buzzing sound, like an airplane high in the sky. Andrei looked up.

“Holy shit! Mutants!”

Two insectoid creatures hovered above the Heat Seekers. They looked exactly as Andrei had described them. Long, curved fangs; a black, pitted skin; and blue, soulless eyes, narrowing in concentration.

Triggerhoof stood rooted to the ground, as he gazed upon the ‘mutants.’

Changelings!

He never expected to see those hideous, tricky monsters again. Yet here they were, two changelings, flying closer towards him and his squad. Triggerhoof had never given Andrei’s ramblings about mutants much thought, but he should have listened. He should have concluded from Andrei’s vivid descriptions that there were changelings here—on earth.Narrowing his eyes, Triggerhoof watched his enemies fly in closer. Suddenly, the horns on their heads glowed.

“Get down!” Andrei shouted.

Two beams of light flew like green arrows through the air. They struck the road, exploding in violent energy. The shockwave wiped away their cover and left the Heat Seekers disoriented.

The two creatures lowered down and then landed. They searched for their prey.

But the Heat Seekers recovered faster than the beasts had anticipated. “Fire, fire, fire!” Andrei shouted, and unleashed a barrage of lead from his Kalashnikov.

The others followed suit, raised their weapons, and sprayed lead all over the creatures. At first the Heat Seekers thought they hit them, as they saw the holes that were visible at their legs. They soon realized their mistake.

Amanda, meanwhile, had the same reaction upon seeing the changelings as Triggerhoof had. Of course she had seen them in the My Little Pony television show, but now they were real, standing before her and trying to wipe her and her squad out. The whole situation looked surreal to her.

One of the creature let out a hiss, drew back, and spat something at Simon. A little green puddle formed around his boots. Simon wanted to roll aside, but found that he couldn’t move.

He could have taken out his boots and run away. He didn’t have time for that. One of the creatures flapped its wings, swooped towards the old man, and grabbed him.

Simon fired a burst of machine gun fire at the thing, but it had no effect. He saw its fangs as the creature opened its mouth wide, together with a slithering, forked tongue. Simon’s mind raced. He switched weapons. Reaching behind his back, he grabbed his knife, held it up with two hands, and stabbed the creature in the eye.

The monster let out a bone-chilling hiss and recoiled from the old man. The light in one of his eyes had gone out, and green ooze dripped out of it.

Simon used the creature’s retreat to slash at the green puddle. He sliced and sliced, and eventually he freed himself.

The Heat Seekers took up their positions again, cover or no cover, and fired their guns. Once again, they had no effect.

“It’s not working!” Andrei shouted.

The two creatures took to the sky again. Their horns glowed, as they prepared another attack.

“We gotta find some cover!” Brockheart yelled, seeing that the creatures liked to attack from the air.

“To the building!” Andrei shouted.

They had just enough time to sprint forwards, as the beams of light came down. The shockwave washed over them, pushing them, ironically enough, in the right direction.

Brockheart, Andrei, Amanda, and Triggerhoof made it into the building. Simon huffed and puffed, and fell behind. Some of that ooze was still on his boots. It slowed him down. He felt as if two cement blocks were bound to his feet. About halfway to the building, he tripped and fell.

“Oh no!” Amanda yelled.

Triggerhoof sprang into action. He flapped his wings and dashed for the old man.

A black shape flashed into view. The changeling slammed into Triggerhoof, simultaneously sinking its teeth into the flesh of the pony. With a howl of pain, Triggerhoof fell out of the sky and out of sight of the others.

The other creature, the one with the missing eye, swooped down to land on Simon. It turned him around and stared into his eyes.

“Hold still, Simon!” Amanda yelled, as she levelled her sniper rifle.

She managed to get one shot before the creature started feeding.

Opening its mouth, the monster once again showed its teeth. Its tongue slithered, reaching out and pulling Simon’s gasmask off his face. The old man let out a cry of horror, as he felt the pain. It felt as if someone tried to take off his skin, stretching and stretching before it would tear off his body. His eyes felt hot. His brain felt warped and disfigured. Pictures of his youth flashed by before his mind’s eye. He saw himself sitting on the swing as his mother pushed him. He saw the girlfriend he once kissed on the school dance. He saw his lovely wife and his children, the family he once had, slipping away. All of the pictures faded and went dark. But the monster pinning him down wasn’t done yet.

From the Channel Twenty-Four building, the rest of the Heat Seekers watched in horror. Andrei pulled out his knife and charged at the monster. He had seen how Simon used his. He was going to take out that monster’s other eye.

Suddenly, a flash of light blinded the Russian. It seared his eyes and left him stumbling. A bright green, twisting light pulsed between Simon and the monster. Simon felt all the love and affection draining out of him. Every pretty memory went into the monster’s mouth. At last there was nothing left in his brain but coldness and depression.

Then the light changed color. It grew from green to bright red. Simon’s pain intensified. His brains felt as if they were liquified. His blood wanted to escape his veins. His eyes were being pulled out of his sockets. He wanted to yell, but his vocal chords were gone.

Andrei got up and charged towards the beast, knife raised high, but he was too late.

The creature left Simon alone, and took to the skies, safely away from Andrei’s knife.

Half of the Heat Seekers looked up at the creature, who had regained its lost eye. The other half looked at the flayed carcass; all that was left of Simon.

“NO!” Amanda shouted, tears burning in her eyes.

The monster looked at Andrei, who kept staring in disbelief. The man felt his knees wobbling. He was petrified. This was what he had been hoping never to encounter. The mutants.

In a lightning fast motion, a drop of spit flew out of the monster’s mouth like the tongue of a chameleon. It hit Andrei’s knife. The monster jerked its head, making the knife fly away. He did the same trick with Andrei’s Kalashnikov. The assault rifle landed on top of a collapsed apartment building.

The Heat Seekers watched. They knew guns couldn’t hurt the beasts. Knives could, but they couldn’t possibly throw their knives far enough to hit it. Brockheart decided it was time to find out how those monsters would react to grenades.

Andrei’s knees gave way. He slumped down before the creature as if he were worshipping it. He couldn’t take his eyes off its horn, which was glowing and arched back, as the monster prepared to launch another energy lance.

But at the moment the creature was about to fire, a grenade came into play. It hit the creature squarely in the chest, sending green goo splattering everywhere. Despite the injury, it finished its shot. The ray of pure heat struck down. The Heat Seekers covered their eyes. When they opened them again, Andrei was gone.

Meanwhile, the second changeling and Triggerhoof fought. The changeling had taken Triggerhoof by surprise, knocking him out of the air and delivering the first strike. But now that it was up close, Triggerhoof could begin to fight it. He ignored the pain in his shoulder where the teeth had been, and bucked hard. It did nothing. The changeling arched back, its teeth glowed, and then it bit again into the red pony’s flesh.

Triggerhoof could feel the poison entering his body, traveling to his vital organs through his veins. He didn’t let it slow him down. He thrashed, bucked, punched, bit, but it was all to no avail. Both pony and changeling rolled over the ground, stirring up radioactive dust. At last, the changeling managed to get a quick shot.

“W-w-w-here’s Triggerhoof?” Amanda said, her voice cracked.

As if on cue, the wall behind her exploded in a rain of concrete. Triggerhoof flew through the hole, nearly knocking Amanda over, and landed behind a counter. He tried to stand up, but the venom paralyzed his legs. His vision turned a strange shade of green. He resisted the poison, gritting his teeth, pretending not to notice the feeling as if his veins were transformed into acidic rivers. Every heartbeat sent pain through his body. The only thing Triggerhoof managed to do was roll around. Then he lay still, and Ground Zero sank away.

Brockheart looked in satisfaction as the monster he had just hit with a grenade landed unsteadily. It did one last step forward before it collapsed on the road.

“Take that, you motherfucker!” Brockheart yelled, throwing his fist into the air.

The creature started to glow. Slowly, the green goop that had gushed out of it flowed back in. It stood up, looked at Brockheart, and then dissolved into light. Brockheart wasn’t sure what to think of that. Did he kill it or not?

Amanda covered Brockheart’s rear. As Triggerhoof flew through the wall, she wanted to go and help him, but knew that she couldn’t. Triggerhoof hadn’t launched himself through the wall. That other changeling was still there. Amanda saw shadows moving. Her breath stopped. She grabbed her submachine gun and kept her finger at the trigger. One more step, and the creature would be inside. Amanda was sure not to hesitate.

Something came into view. Something, or rather, someone.

“Andrei! You’re alive!”

“Indeed I am,” Andrei said, stepping through the rubble and towards the Heat Seekers—or what remained of them.

“Brockheart, look! It’s Andrei.”

Brockheart turned around. He knew there was still one beast on the loose, but nevertheless took a moment to embrace Andrei. “I thought you were a goner, man.”

“I’m not,” Andrei said.

Amanda looked at the bald, Russian man, and noticed something.

“Andrei, you look so… good.”

Andrei arched his eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have any burn marks after that enormous explosion. You don’t even have a piece of grime on your suit.”

Brockheart ended his embrace and looked him over. “Yeah, now that you mention it, how did you get outta there? I thought that creature had fried you.”

Looking from Brockheart to Amanda, Andrei searched for something to say. “Well, eh…”

“And where did you get the time to take back your gun?” Brockheart said. “I saw that thing fly all the way on top of a building.”

“Eh… I, eh…”

Suddenly, Amanda realized what had happened. It was too late.

Andrei hissed, leveled his Kalashnikov, and fired a three round burst into Brockheart’s head. The dark man’s gasmask flew off his face, shattered and blood red.

Andrei turned towards Amanda, but she was ready for him. They stood closely together. So closely, that Amandagrabbed the barrel of the gun, keeping it out of her way. With equally swift motions, she drew her knife, and stabbed Andrei over his shoulder in his back. The whole maneuver looked like an awkward embrace. A deadly awkward embrace.

In a flash of light, Andrei was gone, and before her stood one of the changelings. Green blood oozed out of its back, but that didn’t stop it from biting towards Amanda.

Amanda ducked beneath the changeling’s jaws, and stabbed upwards. Her knife went through its lower jaw and sliced off its tongue. The cry of pain made Amanda wince.

The changeling bucked; Amanda blocked. The changeling bit; Amanda dodged. The changeling hissed; Amanda gritted her teeth.

With a jump, Amanda got close again. Close enough that she could grab its thin neck and hold it in a lock. She stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, aiming for the eyes, the nose, the brains. Tears were in her eyes. Her knife went through the changeling’s skin like butter. Finally, the changeling went through its knees and fell, as did Amanda.

Shaky breaths clouded the visor of her gasmask. All of the emotions had left her body and mind. She tried to steady her breath. The fight left her exhausted. After all the violence, the silence that followed seemed artificial.

Slowly, gradually, the silence gave way to a faint hum in the air. At first, Amanda didn’t notice it, but as her breath calmed down and she stopped shivering all over her body, she heard it. Amanda thought the changeling was still alive, but as she prodded it with her boot, it didn’t move. Then where did that sound come from? Was it the other one?

Walking towards the doorway, Amanda looked outside. She didn’t need a scope to see what was coming for her.

Two dozen, maybe more, changelings were flying towards the Channel Twenty-Four television building. The droning sound of their wings got louder as they came closer. At the head or them was a severely injured one.

Instinctively, Amanda ducked. She couldn’t fight that many of them. She wasn’t even sure if all of the Heat Seekers could have taken them down. With a pain in her heart, she realized she would never know. Her squad was gone. She was the only one left standing.

The droning became louder. Amanda looked around for options. There were none, so a primal instinct got a hold on her mind.

Run and hide!

Amanda guessed, hoped, and prayed that the changelings hadn’t yet seen her. She sidled towards the hole Triggerhoof had flown through, stepping over the body of the changeling she had fought. Stepping outside, she ran for the nearest intact building. Maybe she still had a chance.

Maybe she still had a chance…

Chapter five: Fluttershy's day out

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Three years before the Heat Seekers’ downfall, in the land of Equestria.

My dearest Fluttershy,

It is with great fear that I am sending you this letter, even though I know that the task is well within your capabilities. Some disturbing news has reached my ears; disturbing news from Starlight Glimmer’s village. A pegasus pony by the name of Night Glider has reached my court, telling me thata dragon has been terrorizing the village. Even though it is not snoring or billowing out smoke, it does hunt for gold. According to Night Glider, the dragon has made the area of the village its primary hunting grounds. The beast ruins farmland, eats livestock, and steals treasures. Nopony in the village wears jewelry anymore, for fear that the dragon might swoop down and take ponies to its cave.

The residents of Starlight’s village are afraid, very afraid. They don’t dare to come outside anymore, and village life has come to a complete standstill. Night Glider told me that the dragon made the large cave where something called a ‘cutie mark vault’ had once been, his home. I’m afraid that is all I know, for Night Glider hasn’t been inside the cave yet.

I know I have no right to ask you for this, as you have saved Equestria time and again, and I should be the one in your debt. Nevertheless, I can’t think of a better animal handler than you; Philomena has told me all about your amazing skill. And after the dragon incident, of which Twilight Sparkle has told me in her letters, I know that you have experience with dragons as well. I am afraid that if I go, the dragon might be intimidated, turn hostile, and attack me. Of course I will be able to best it, but I prefer a more peaceful solution. I hope you think that way as well.

Look for kindness in your heart, Fluttershy, and go to Starlight’s village. You can bring your friends, of course, although I have no doubt that you and you alone will play the biggest part in this adventure.

Forever your faithful princess,

Celestia

Fluttershy finished reading the letter, and silence descended upon the throne room. Pinkie made quick work of it.

“Oh! That sounds super-duper exciting!” Pinkie Pie bounced up and down. “I can’t wait to go back to Starlight’s village. Once she left it, it turned out as a really nice place.”

Starlight frowned and shot Pinkie a glare. “Gee, thanks.”

“An adventure? Count me in!” Rainbow Dash jumped up and made a looping. “Let’s go there and kick that scaly monster’s bottom.”

“Didn’t you hear what she said?” Applejack said. “The princess wants a non-violent solution. She didn’t ask Fluttershy for nothing.”

Dash’s shoulders slumped down. “Aw…” Then she glared up again. “But when all goes down, I’ll be the one to save the day!”

Rolling her eyes and with the Mare Do Well incident fresh in mind, Applejack said, “Sure thing, ‘hero.’”

Twilight Sparkle stood up from her throne. “Everypony, may I please have your attention.”

Everypony shut up.

“Thank you.” Twilight Sparkle started pacing around. “Now this task from Princess Celestia herself is a huge responsibility. The cutie map hasn’t called us towards Starlight’s village, so this task is of royal importance. We must keep our heads cool, otherwise we might make stupid decis—“

“No,” Fluttershy said.

“I’m sorry?” Twilight said, stupefied at Fluttershy’s interruption.

Fluttershy looked at the ground, as she received everypony’s stares. “I… I want to go alone to the dragon cave, and deal with the monster all by myself.”

“WHAT?!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “You want to go to a dragon lair alone?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, sugar cube,” Applejack said. “You know dragons are very dangerous, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Twilight added, “why would you want to go alone anyway?”

Fluttershy didn’t keep her eyes off the ground. She rubbed her front legs together. “I… I just think I should.”

“But why?”

“Because… well…” Finally, Fluttershy looked up, and took a moment to find the words and look at everypony in turn. “During our mission to get rid of that big, snoring dragon on the top of the mountain, I had been nothing but trouble.”

“Aw nonsense, sugar cube,” Applejack said. “I didn’t mind pulling you up the mountain. Even though I might have sworn a bit, I really didn’t.”

“Yes, but… but…” Fluttershy hung her head. “During that quest, I did nothing but slow you all down. I was more of a nuisance than an asset to the team.”

Rainbow Dash closed her eyes and nodded. She received an elbow from Applejack.

Fluttershy continued. “I felt so terrible, not just because I was afraid of, well, everything, but also because I kept slowing you down and irritating everypony. And when we were in that avalanche zone”—Fluttershy blinked away a tear—“I almost got you all buried under a big pile of stone.”

“Oh please, poor Fluttershy,” Rarity said, stepping over to her and laying a hoof on her shoulder. “Nopony actually got hurt in that avalanche.”

Fluttershy didn’t look at her. “Not thanks to me.”

“Rarity is right,” Twilight said. “That adventure had a happy ending. In the end you did come through, remember? I don’t think you should punish yourself by going into the lion’s den all by yourself.”

“The dragon’s den,” Pinkie corrected.

Fluttershy dried her tears, and looked at everypony once more. “I know that, and that’s why I am making this decision. It’s not that I want to be the hero or steal the spotlight, it’s just that I think… I think I can do this all by myself. During our adventure with the dragon, I wasn’t ready, wasn’t ready at all. But I have grown. Together with you all, I’ve been through many bad situations, and come back out again. I have flown for my life after awakening a hydra. I have used my stare to defeat a cockatrice. I have learned being assertive and dared to say no to Iron Will. I have managed to reform Discord. And of course”—Fluttershy shuddered—“the Mane-iac, where I turned into that… that monster.”

Twilight frowned. “Well, if you put it that way…”

“And I know it is a fire-breathing, gold stealing, winged, could-eat-a-pony-in-one-bite, menacing d-d-dragon, but I just… I just have to do this. Please, please, please, just give me this chance,” Fluttershy said. “Give me this chance to prove myself. Even Princess Celestia thinks I am up to the task. You can read that here.” Fluttershy looked at the letter again, and found the right line. “’You and you alone will play the biggest role in this adventure’.”

Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that you have to take that literally. You’re still… well, you.”

Once again, Applejack gave Rainbow what she deserved.

“What Rainbow is trying to say is that you shouldn’t do anything that is against your will or your nature,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Just as you decided that Nightmare Night wasn’t your thing. I’m not going to push you; the decision is yours. But please, whatever you’re going to do, be careful, and, more importantly, be true to yourself.”

“But wait!” Starlight Glimmer said, raising her hoof high in the air. “What about taking just one of your friends along. Then… eh… your adventure won’t be so boring.”

The moment she spoke those words, Starlight realized that facing a big, dangerous dragon would not be classified as a ‘boring adventure.’ She tried to talk over it. “I mean… eh… at least you’ll have somepony to speak to on the train towards the village. You know how long the journey is.” And she accompanied her arguments with the most forced smile in Equestria.

Fluttershy seemed to wage Starlight’s arguments. “Well, I—“

“Yes, that’s a great idea,” Twilight said, winking at Starlight. “That way, you can prove you’re up to the task, and still have somepony to watch over you. You know, in case things go wrong.”

“Like a wingpony,” Rainbow Dash said, finally saying something helpful.

Pinkie Pie jumped up. “Oh! Who are you gonna choose? Pick me! Pick me! I love going on dangerous missions with dangerous, big, pony-eating dragons. That sound super fun!”

Nopony could guess if Pinkie Pie was serious or not.

“I think that is an excellent idea,” Rarity said, holding Fluttershy’s hoof as if she were afraid the pony would burst in tears any second.

Rainbow Dash flew up, so Applejack couldn’t poke her. “So, who’s it gonna be? Spill it already!”

Fluttershy looked at her friends. Twilight probably had the most knowledge about dragons; she had probably read dozens of books on the subject. That, and she had powerful magic, just like Starlight Glimmer. Applejack was also a good choice. She was sure to keep her wits and stay focused in the face of danger. Of course, Rainbow Dash ate danger as her breakfast, so she would certainly know what to do if things got risky. But what about Pinkie Pie? She certainly would be a conversation maker in the train. That pony was talking all the time.

Even though every choice seemed to have their pros, Fluttershy had somepony else in mind. She chose—

“Rarity,” Fluttershy said.

The train chugged along through the dry and desert-like land. Occasional hoodoos, rocks, and dried-out shrubs flashed by. Other than that, the land was desolate and empty. So desolate and empty, that Rarity immediately labeled it as ‘tacky.’ She decided that it wasn’t even worth looking at. Instead, she looked at Fluttershy, and asked her a question she had been mulling about. “I beg your pardon, Fluttershy, but why, of all more than qualified contestants, did you choose me?”

Fluttershy smiled. “Oh, that’s easy. You’re always calm, but also always have something interesting to tell. You are creative, and can always show me new ways of seeing things. You know, putting things in a different perspective.”

“Oh why thank you,” Rarity said, as a blush appeared on her cheeks. “That’s so nice of you to say.”

“It’s the truth,” Fluttershy said. “I always like our days out at the spa too. You and I both know what a pony needs; calmness and collectiveness.”

“Fluttershy, dear, I never would have guessed that you are so… philosophical.”

Now it was Fluttershy’s turn to blush. “Well, if you listen a lot, instead of talking a lot, you also have time to think a lot.”

“Oh, that makes perfect sense,” Rarity said. “I suppose I should listen a bit more instead of talking as well, especially when Sweetie Belle is speaking.”

“That seems like a perfect idea,” Fluttershy said.

There was a small silence, but it was no awkward silence. After all they had said, both ponies took the silence as an opportunity to let their words sink in. Fluttershy looked out the window, no doubt wondering what creatures were able to survive in the rugged terrain. Rarity did so too, no doubt wondering how in Equestria she could make the land look at least a little bit prettier.

Suddenly, their eyes met each other, as they turned away from the window simultaneously.

“You know,” Fluttershy said, “you are be my best friend, Rarity.”

Rarity didn’t know what to say to that. Such soft kindness radiated from Fluttershy’s words, that it left the unicorn speechless. At last, she said, “And you are my best friend too.”

“Friends forever?” Fluttershy said, sticking out her hoof.

“Friends forever,” Rarity said, as she put her hoof on Fluttershy’s.

Then both ponies almost tumbled against each other, as the train came to a halt. Moments later, the door opened and the conductor stepped inside. “Dry Dusty Trails, last stop!”

From the train stop, it was just a short hike towards Starlight’s village. Fluttershy and Rarity were surrounded by the desert, which felt just as they had seen. Luckily, Rarity had packed sunglasses and the bonnet that went with them. She stopped to rummage in her pack.

“What’s wrong?” Fluttershy said, “did you forget something?”

“I hope I didn’t,” Rarity said. But then, after some more fumbling, Rarity found what she was looking for. With a triumphant, “Aha!” she held another bonnet in her hooves. “This one is for you, Fluttershy.”

“Oh my!” Fluttershy said, as she eyed the hat. It was absolutely gorgeous. It had a broad rim, and a stylish green ribbon, through which a pair of daisies was strung. Fluttershy put it on her head. “Thank you so much, Rarity. It’s really beautiful.”

Rarity waved a hoof. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little thing I put together last minute.”

“If this is last minute, I’m curious what stylish desert-proof outfit you can make in a week.”

Rarity chuckled, and together, they walked onwards.

The terrain became progressively more rocky, and the ponies had to mind their steps. Rarity looked down and wrinkled her nose. “Stupid rocky ground. I just had a hooficure.”

“Don’t worry, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, “we’re almost there.”

Indeed, after a few more steps, the ponies stood upon a brown, rocky ridge, jutting out of the sand like a half-buried mountain. As they walked to the rim, it opened up to a wide view of the desert. Below, just a few hundred yards away, was Starlight’s village. From up high, they could see the twin rows of houses opposite of each other, forming an equal sign. But there was something strange going on. As they looked more closely, they saw there was nothing going on. Not a single pony was on the streets. All doors were locked. And that wasn’t all. As Rarity listened, she could hear a faint, clattering sound, as if somepony was playing with marbles. Rarity soon realized what the sound was.

“Are you scared, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy made a high, squeaky noise, that could be interpreted as a ‘yes.’

“It will be alright,” Rarity said, as she put a hoof on her shoulder. “We can do it together.”

Fluttershy did her best to relax. She had said that she could do it, but, being this close to the village, and seeing just how scared everypony was for the beast that lurked in the cave with the cutie mark vault, she felt fear bubbling up inside of her. It threatened to spill over her nerves. She trembled. But when she felt the hoof of Rarity on her shoulder, and hearing her encouraging words, she relaxed a little bit, surprising even herself.

The two ponies exchanged a glance.

“I’m glad you’re with me, Rarity,” Fluttershy said.

“And so am I,” Rarity said. She tapped Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Let’s go! We have a beast to chase away. And after we’re done, I’ll treat you on a nice spa session.”

“With a mud bath?” Fluttershy said.

“With a mud bath,” Rarity said.

They decided not to go to the village. One look at the deserted streets told them that the village ponies were scared to death of the dragon. Fluttershy doubted whether somepony would actually open the door if they knocked. No, they didn’t go to the village. Instead, they headed right for the path, leading up the slope of the mountain.

“Let’s get this over with quickly, Fluttershy,” Rarity said. “Let’s act first, and talk to the ponies later. I’m sure they will be very grateful once that beast flies away.”

“Y-y-yes, I th-th-think so too.”

Rarity felt a spark of the fear Fluttershy felt. “I’m scared too, Fluttershy,” she said. “But I have faith in you. I know you can do it, even if you yourself don’t yet see it that way. We’ll clear that cave lickety-split. Now come on! The sooner we’re done here, the sooner we can go back to Ponyville and treat ourselves as heroes.”

Fluttershy swallowed. Together, they climbed on.

The path ended at a wide cave mouth. Some rocks lay scattered here and there, but otherwise there was nothing too significant about the cave. Yet, Fluttershy knew that something very significant was in there. Something very significant with wings like a hurricane, teeth like daggers, and eyes like a burning fire. Once they stood before the darkness of the cave, Fluttershy stopped, shaking.

Rarity saw her hesitation. She decided to push her in the right direction. “Go on, Fluttershy. You can do it! I will be… eh…” She looked around, then found a rock big enough to hide behind. “I will be over there, to… eh… oversee the situation. I’ve got your back, Fluttershy!”

“Th-th-th-thanks, Rarity.” Fluttershy forced her mind to think about her friend, and about all the scared ponies of Starlight’s village. She had to do this. For them, and for herself. Upon completing this mission, she would complete herself. She would finally prove that she had indeed grown, and that she too, could do something brave.

She did a step into the cave, but almost tripped. Her knees kept shaking. She still couldn’t see the beast in the darkness. She hoped that she would see it before it would see her. Squinting, Fluttershy tried to discern the shape of the dragon against the blue, pulsing light of the cutie mark vault. She did another few steps forward.

Fluttershy jumped. She heard something. She felt something on her back. Letting out a shriek, she turned around and around. She knew it was the claw of the dragon, prodding its victim to see if it was juicy.

But there was nothing there. Fluttershy could hear her heartbeats. She looked up.

Above her was a half-crumbled stalactite. As she watched, some little pieces of it fell down on her nose.

“What’s the matter, Fluttershy?” Rarity called from far behind. “Are you alright?”

Fluttershy said ‘yes,’ but she thought ‘no.’ She forced her heart to calm down, telling it there was nothing to be afraid of… yet.

Fluttershy’s mind was searching for excuses. M-m-maybe the dragon isn’t here. Maybe it is hunting or looting. Maybe it has found a better spot to live and moved. Oh please, please, please let that be true!

Back behind the rock, Rarity was starting to feel guilty. She had sent Fluttershy into the cave, while she herself was safely out of sight. I should help her in some way, Rarity thought. Without going into the cave, of course. She frowned and thought for a bit. Then she perked up, as an idea sprang into her mind. Rarity looked into the darkness of the cave. She couldn’t even see Fluttershy anymore. Her horn glowed, as Rarity concentrated. She had cast this spell before, when she had to work until late in the night and had run out of candles. This should be helpful…

Fluttershy knew she was close. She could hear something in the dark. It sounded like breathing. A sharp, cold breath like a graveyard breeze. Fluttershy was too afraid to realize that dragons had hot breaths; not cold ones. Fluttershy had concocted a plan. She would approach gently, without any sudden movements or threatening gestures. That way, the dragon would be in a reasonably good mood. Good for talking. There would be no fighting, no yelling. Diplomacy, just… diplomacy.

Her plans were dashed to pieces.

A cone of brilliant, blue light flew through the cave, bathing it in shininess like the silvery light of the moon. Fluttershy almost got a heart attack. Although the light was silent, she knew where it was coming from. She turned around, and saw the source of the light waving at her.

“You go, Fluttershy!” Rarity said with a smile, keeping the beam aimed at her friend.

Anger and concern, mixed with fear, created a cocktail of disaster in Fluttershy’s head. She was very sure that she didn’t want to turn around. Yet she did.

The creature that stood before her was no dragon.

Scales and feathers, both glittering in the light, made up its body. Two long, sharp, curved horns crowned its head. Its claws dug deep into the stone it was sitting on. It had wings, part skin like a dragon, part feathers like a bird. Coiled around the creature’s body like a whip was its tail, which ended in a nasty, poisonous stinger. No, this creature was definitely no dragon.

Fluttershy had never seen such a strange beast before. She didn’t even have enough breath left to whimper. All the air had left her body. Fear and surprise came in its place.

Behind the dragon, the cutie mark vault was once again put to use. Treasures of all sorts and kinds filled the little square containers. Goblets, Bits, jewelry; all spoils of the beast’s raids.

The creature squinted its poison-green eyes against the cone of light, letting out a snarl. It was a snarl full of a thousand threats. Whatever the creature was, It didn’t look willing to talk.

Fluttershy was dumbstruck. She couldn’t move; she could only watch. The creature gave a howl like two dozen wolves. The whole cave shuddered. Some stalactites broke off and fell to the ground.

“Come on, Fluttershy! Chase him away!” Rarity shouted.

Her friend’s words were like a lighthouse in the storm. Fluttershy had gone this far. Now there was no turning back. She tried to find the creature’s eyes, not knowing where in Equestria to start. She still wanted to talk to it, but wasn’t sure which language to speak. Even though it looked part bird, there were many dragon-like elements in the monster. Fluttershy decided to try draconic.

She had to start over couple of times. With the first few tries, she couldn’t find a voice with which to speak, or words with which to convey her message. At last, she managed to cram something out of her mouth.

“Pl-pl-please excuse me, good sir. M-m-my name is F-F-Fluttershy. H-h-how are you doing today?”

If the creature understood what Fluttershy said, it didn’t show it. As an answer, she got another bone-mangling roar. Fluttershy almost lost her footing, but managed to stay upright. The monster raised its thin, sharp claws to its face, still recoiling from the light.

Fluttershy saw that. She turned around. “R-R-Rarity. Please, no more light.”

Fluttershy was too far away and too shaken to talk properly. Only by a miracle did Rarity hear what she said—although not all of it.

“More light? Okay, Fluttershy!” With double the concentration, Rarity managed to shine her light even brighter, brighter than the brightest diamond. Every nook and corner of the cave now bathed in the light. Rarity nodded contently. “Ha! I still have it in me.”

Looking back towards the creature, Fluttershy knew that her chances were all blown. She should have turned around and gallop out of the cave. But she didn’t. She kept looking, as the monster before her kept trying to shield its eyes from the light.

But then, it removed its claw, and Fluttershy could finally look into the monster’s eyes.

It needed only a few seconds to locate its target.

“Hello, Mister Monster, my name is Fluttershy,” she said in her most polite draconic. “Could I ask you to please, please, please, if you feel like it, move to another place. You see, there’s a village down the mountain, and the ponies in it would very much appreciate it if you could go and live somewhere—“

The creature closed its eyes again, twirled around, and lashed out with its stinger. A wet, sloshy sound filled the cave, as it hit its mark.

Thanks to the light, Rarity saw everything. “NO!”

The beast turned around again, and looked at its fallen prey. It had just fed, so it wasn’t hungry enough to eat the fallen pony. He was merely content at taking out one source of nuisance. But the light was still there. The monster decided to just flee it; it was raiding time anyway. With a few flaps of its strange leather-and-feather wings, it took off, out of the cave, and out of sight.

As soon as it was gone, Rarity galloped into the cave, towards her friend. She looked into Fluttershy’s eyes, but they were closed in pain.

Both Fluttershy’s mind and body were too weak to fight against such a strong poison. It felt as if her blood boiled and evaporated in her veins. Foaming at the mouth, Fluttershy’s muscles spasmed and shook, as they were ravaged from the inside by the poison.

“Oh no! Fluttershy! What have I done?!”

Rarity panicked. She had no idea what to do. In a moment of desperation, she tried something. Twilight had once told her that magic can sometimes cure certain afflictions. Now was the time to test out that theory.

Her tear-struck eyes closed, as she reached for the magic deep inside. Her horn glowed as bright as a star. She had never before tried healing magic. She just did something, anything. Slowly, she lowered her shining horn towards the wound in Fluttershy’s belly. Instantly, Fluttershy began to glow from head to hoof. Rarity couldn’t believe it. “It’s working! It’s actually working!”

She waited for the wound to close. She waited for her friend to stop twitching and jerking her legs. She waited for the venom to flow out of Fluttershy’s body, and leave nothing but a bad memory behind.

“R-R-Rarity…” Fluttershy tried to speak, but gargles interrupted her in mid-sentence. She felt her lungs trying to burst underneath the strain. “R-R-Rarity….”

Rarity had done everything she could. Fluttershy was still glowing. She didn’t yet give up. Reaching out, she stroked her mane. “Easy now, Fluttershy. Just a few more moments and you will be as good as new.” But why was her tone so unsure?

“R-R-Rarity…” A coppery liquid with a nasty aftertaste filled Fluttershy’s mouth. She tried to talk, but couldn’t. She coughed, spitting out a strange, green goo. Now talking was a little bit easier. “R-R-Rarity, whatever happens, y-y-you a-a-are still…”

Somehow, Rarity knew it was over. She looked at the green puddle Fluttershy had coughed up. Steam was rising from it. She knew it was over, and that all she could do now was listen to Fluttershy’s last words.

A particularly nasty muscle spasm made Fluttershy crumple up in pain. Once it had passed, she could no longer hear her heart beating. Her vision became cloudy. Quickly, as well as her poison-eaten limbs allowed, she touched Rarity’s hoof. “W-w-w-whatever happens, you are s-s-still.”

Rarity was crying. She held Fluttershy’s hoof tightly in her own, as her tears mingled with the blood on the ground. “Yes, Fluttershy. I am still…”

“M-m-my f-f-friend.”

Fluttershy stopped spasming. Her eyes closed. Her breath stopped. Her last words were said. It was over.

Chapter six: rest in peace, butterfly

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Fluttershy, our caring and loving Fluttershy. You always put other ponies before yourself. We hope that you will rest in peace, and we know that the kindness you spread in Equestria will never fade away.

Discord read the epitaph for the hundredth time. He couldn’t tear himself away from the inscription on the gravestone, shaped like a flock of butterflies. It truly was a grave worthy of an element of harmony, but Discord wasn’t admiring its beauty. Thoughts swirled around in his head. Many things were on his mind, yet all of the thoughts were hidden underneath a heavy, black blanket of sorrow and grief. He would never see her again. Fluttershy, his friend. She had practically raised Discord, corrected his errors and celebrated his accomplishments. Fluttershy had taught Discord friendship through kindness, patience, and the rule of give and take.

But never again.

Discord had cried. A lot. But somehow, he wasn’t able to anymore. Perhaps his tears had dried up, or perhaps he had realized that it didn’t matter. No amount of tears could bring Fluttershy back. Nothing could bring Fluttershy back.

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had given a beautiful speech in honor of Fluttershy. All of Ponyville was present during the funeral. Everypony wanted to pay his or her respects to the mare whose kindness knew no bounds. Discord was sure that none of them would have expected this. Hell, even Discord hadn’t expected this. He could conjure up objects out of other realms with a snap of his claws, yet no magic could give life back to Fluttershy.

The coffin with Fluttershy in it had been open for a while, so everypony could walk by and gaze upon the element of kindness one last time. Discord hadn’t been sure whether he wanted to see her. He didn’t want to remember Fluttershy as a corpse, but as a living pony. He didn’t want to see her lying still; he wanted to see her alive and fluttering gently on a warm breeze. He didn’t want to feel her cold skin, but he wanted to hug her and feel the warmth of her coat, and the fresh scent of her shampooed mane after she got back from an afternoon at the spa.

Yet he had looked. He couldn’t resist himself. He had looked in the coffin.

And there she lay. The pony he loved most of all in the world—even more than causing chaos, he realized. Fluttershy’s buttery yellow seemed faded somehow. She looked bleak, sickly almost. Her long, pink mane had been carefully combed and draped over her chest. Her tail was equally styled, and braided beautifully. Rarity had made a dress for her—her last dress. It looked much like the one she had worn at the gala, except that there were extra ornamental stitches made with gold thread.

Yes, her friends had made sure that the funeral was worthy of a princess. It was all over. Everypony had gathered in the town hall to talk, weep, remember. But not Discord. He stood alone at the gravestone, petrified, as if he had turned to stone himself. Gazing.

If only he could bring back Fluttershy with his gaze. It was not so.

“Discord, are you… alright?”

Discord didn’t need to turn around to guess whose words those were. He didn’t need to, for Rarity stopped and stood next to him.

Discord didn’t say anything.

“I… I saw you standing here for such a long time,” Rarity said. “I just hope you are alright. I know how much Fluttershy meant to you.”

“Equestria,” Discord said, his voice rough and raspy of shedding many tears. “She means Equestria to me.”

Rarity scooted closer to Discord. She followed his gaze and looked at the grave ornament. There was a thoughtful silence. Dark clouds gathered above, looking black and blue and dead. A pair of crows made an ugly noise, then flew away.

“Discord, if it makes you feel better, I… I can tell you what it was that ended Fluttershy’s life. Twilight told me all about those monsters. At first we thought it was a dragon, but it was something else entirely. It was a wyvern.”

“A wyvern,” Discord repeated. He made a mental note to himself to travel to every dimension he could and exterminate all wyverns. His thoughts were dark and gloomy, fueled by the pain he felt. He wanted to blame somepony—anypony. His claws clenched into fists. He felt the pressure of his gritting teeth. His vision grew darker, as his eyes narrowed.

Rarity was silent. She didn’t know what to say to Discord. She knew that the draconequus had every right to be angry at her, to yell at her, to scream in her face that it was all her fault. She had been in the cave. She had let Fluttershy walk into it and to the monster all by herself. She had used her light to agitate the terrible wyvern, and the beast had taken it out on poor Fluttershy. In a sense, it was her fault that Fluttershy was dead.

Suddenly, a droplet of rain touched her muzzle. Then another one, and another one. The dark clouds, as dark as Discord’s mind, had reached them. Rarity looked up and uttered a sigh. She should have brought an umbrella. She was just about to turn around and get one—after which she would return to Discord—when an umbrella appeared above her head, floating in midair and shielding her from the rain. Rarity looked at Discord, her eyes wide with astonishment.

Discord didn’t bother creating an umbrella for himself. He met Rarity’s gaze. “I’m not angry at you, Rarity. You couldn’t have prevented what happened in that cave. I know the loss of Fluttershy hits you in the heart as well.”

Rarity swallowed. She tried to look the draconequus in the eyes, but Discord’s yellow-and-red eyes weren’t looking at her. It looked as if Discord saw straight through her, watching something that she knew nothing about.

Discord continued. “You told me everything you could, everything you have done. But don’t blame yourself. That beast would have murdered Fluttershy anyway. I know about wyverns. Part dragon, part bird, but not intelligent enough to make its own sandwich.”

Despite the joke, Discord didn’t laugh. Neither did Rarity.

“Fluttershy saw that she couldn’t talk to it,” Rarity said, “no matter how hard she tried.”

Discord scoffed. A hissing breath escaped through his teeth. “Of course not. Those wyverns have nothing that even resembles consciousness. They are driven by nothing but their instincts. Nothing but hunger and greed. If there is a nuisance, it will destroy that nuisance. Their minds are as simple as that. Of course it didn’t talk. I don’t even think there is a wyvern language. All they do is make sounds uglier than crows’.”

Rarity hesitated to say something, then Discord continued his rant. “I bet Fluttershy had not a clue about what stood before her. Wyverns are very rare, almost extinct, I’d say.” And I will make sure they will be extinct soon, he thought.

“What you say is true,” Rarity said. “Twilight lent me a book about them. It took me a long time before I was able to read it without breaking into tears. It took me a long time before I was able to read it and not tremble of fear. Yet I read it, and I am grateful for that. Nopony will ever end the way Fluttershy did.”

Discord snorted. His eyes looked as if they would catch fire and shoot it to somepony. “Assuming Princess Celestia doesn’t send another pony to certain death.”

That answer startled Rarity. She looked up, and saw that the floating umbrella was quivering, as was Discord’s tail. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me right,” Discord said. “I got my claws on that letter Princess Celestia sent Fluttershy. I read how she silently insinuated that she thought Fluttershy could handle it all by herself. How could she do such a thing, if she doesn’t even know what she would be dealing with?” Discord stomped on the ground. The earth crumbled underneath his hoof. “Celestia planted the seeds for Fluttershy’s foolish decision to go alone. She is to blame. I read that letter about two hundred times. I can recite the exact line that became Fluttershy’s downfall.” Discord’s face warped. A long, flowing rainbow mane sprouted from his scalp. His muzzle took on a gracious shape, white as a daisy. With a thick, mocking tone, he recited Princess Celestia’s words from the letter. “’You can bring your friends, of course, although I have no doubt that you and you alone will play the biggest part in this adventure.’”

“You and you alone,” Rarity whispered.

Discord’s face returned to normal. “I suppose I should be grateful that her friends talked her out of the idea of going alone. And I suppose I should be extra grateful to you, for accompanying Fluttershy on her quest. At least she didn’t die alone…”

Rarity didn’t like the tone of Discord’s voice anymore. It sounded dangerous, as if he made a threat with every word he spoke. A threat to the princess herself.

Discord’s tail whipped around in rage. He spat out his words. “Celestia should have gone into that cave. Celestia should have dealt with that wyvern. And Celestia should be the one who is dead, not Fluttershy!”

Involuntarily, Rarity did a step back. She had never seen Discord like this. Even when he had pronounced himself ‘lord of chaos,’ he had always kept his playfulness. No matter what he did, even though what he did brought disharmony to whoever would be his unfortunate victim, he always enjoyed it like a walk in the park. The Discord that stood at the gravestone was completely different. This Discord was full of hate, full of rage. This Discord wanted revenge, wanted to have somepony to take that revenge on. This Discord might even be dangerous.

“Don’t be scared, Rarity,” Discord said, but his tone didn’t change. “You are not supposed to pay. Celestia is. Celestia must pay. Celestia should lose the very thing she cares most about. And I will not rest until I have done so.”

Rarity did another step back. Her voice trembled. “D-D-Discord, you shouldn’t say such things. Fluttershy wouldn’t want that. Remember what she has taught you. Keep the good memories with Fluttershy in your mind. Think about the love you shared. Keep in your heart the single most important thing Fluttershy has taught you: friendship.”

Scoffing, a cloud of steam flowed through Discord’s nostrils. “Friendship… friendship… friendship.” Every time Discord repeated the word, it sounded more and more vicious. He drew his conclusion. “If friendship can hurt so much, if friendship makes you want to rip out your own beating heart to give it to your murdered friend, if friendship can make you feel hollow and dark inside, as if a part of your soul has died, then… then I don’t want friendship anymore.”

“B-b-but Discord, think about the love—“

“Love?!” With a jerk, Discord turned around and locked Rarity’s eyes with his own. “I loved Fluttershy more than anypony else, and look where it has gotten me. Here I am, Discord, master of chaos, broken and cracked and hollow. There is nothing left of me. Fluttershy meant more to me. She wasn’t just a pony. She was the better part of me, the part that cared about others and that realized that I couldn’t always get what I want, that I couldn’t always win.” He waved his claws at the grave marker. “And look, now I lost. I lost my good part. It lies in the ground, buried beneath the butterflies. Without Fluttershy, I am lost—a loose cannon.”

Rarity no longer dared to say anything to this other Discord. She knew he had to calm down, to give his loss a place in his heart and mind, and to process what had happened. She blinked, and saw the madness in his eyes.

Seeing what his outrage had gotten him, a very frightened Rarity, Discord seemed to calm down. His body no longer quivered, and his eyes lost some of that murderous haze that obscured his vision. He crouched down, so that his eyes were level with Rarity’s. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Rarity. But every word I spoke, I meant.”

Discord sounded as if he were very sure about that. That fact only made Rarity more scared.

“You can tell Princess Celestia all about what I’ve said here, and your friends too, if you want. That way, they will get a heads up when everything will go bad. For now, I have said enough.” Discord looked away and at the town hall where the others were gathered. “Now go, Rarity. I have said enough, and you have heard enough. Keep the umbrella too. I need time alone now. I need time to think, to plot, to prepare.”

Rarity gulped. That didn’t sound good. “M-m-may I ask wh-wh-what you will prepare for?”

Discord turned around. Then, with a voice as cold as the grave he was looking at, he said, “I don’t know, but I may know someone who does.”

The pain didn’t leave Discord as he journeyed through the land of Equestria. Sorrow and sadness accompanied him wherever he went. He felt cold inside. Even though he could snap his claws, disappear, and reappear in the place he wanted to be, he journeyed on the wing. He needed time to think about what he would do. He needed to prepare his speech and concoct a plan of action. He floated over the grassy hills of Equestria. In every animal he saw Fluttershy’s face, and every animal reminded him of her kindness. Kindness that had passed away.

Discord blinked hard, but tears didn’t come. He had passed the station of self-pity. Now he was at the station ‘revenge.’ It was all he could think about. How was he going to set right what had gone wrong? He thought he knew. He had a rough sketch of his plans in his head.

He rubbed his claws. Somehow, plotting and devising evil plans made him feel good. No, not somehow—it had been Discord’s nature to cause evil and mayhem. During days that seemed so long ago, Discord had recreated Ponyville in his image, and called it the chaos capital of Equestria. Apparently, that Discord wasn’t lost; it was just hidden underneath that soft, warm blanket of kindness and friendship and love. But that blanket was gone now. It disappeared from his soul as Fluttershy had disappeared from the world. Now, the darkness was laid bare, and Discord could feel it.

He kept his mind occupied. He kept plotting. As he reached the end of the hilled terrain and the beginning of a forest, he thought he got it. He thought he had figured out what to say. A grim smile appeared on his lips. A grim mask that he hadn’t worn for a long time. Discord raised his lion paw, snapped his fingers, and disappeared.

He had pictured the place he wanted to be in his head. He didn’t really know where in Equestria the new stronghold would be, but he had a detailed mental picture of the place, as he had been there before.

Before him, towering high above a somber, rocky landscape, was a citadel-like structure. It stood black on the horizon, and seemed to glow with an unholy light. The horizon was as gloomy as the towers of the citadel. The sun was setting. The citadel wasn’t made of stone or wood—in fact, Discord had no idea what it was made of. Occasionally, new holes appeared in its black, almost viscous surface, and sometimes holes closed again. The structure was constantly changing, as were its inhabitants. Discord could see them, buzzing around and flying to and from, carrying out tasks for their mother.

He couldn’t use magic this close to the hive, Discord knew that. For extra safety and protection, the queen of the hive had placed a strange stone in the nucleus of her stronghold, which prevented the use of magic. Discord had to walk from here.

He crossed the barren soil, but before he could reach the hive, the changelings spotted him first. They hissed and grumbled as they saw the familiar intruder.

Discord held up his arms. “Don’t be alarmed. I have come unarmed and with no mal intent. I only wish to speak to your Queen, Chrysalis.”

The changelings looked at each other, not knowing what to think. In the end, they decided to honor Discord’s request. There were about three dozen of them, so whatever the draconequus would want to do to hurt the hive or the queen, they outnumbered him and could stop him if necessary. They turned around and disappeared into a hole. Discord followed.

They had to venture deep into the heart of the changeling hive to find Queen Chrysalis. Discord looked around. The place looked exactly like the first hive, which Starlight, Trixie, and he himself conquered. Entrances and exits opened and closed, and sticky goo, gloomy light, and the mysterious substance the walls were made of surrounded him on every side. At last, he saw the light of the anti-magic stone, which Chrysalis had turned into her own throne. She sat and eyed Discord with her slit-pupil eyes. Discord stopped before the throne, while the changelings surrounded him on all sides, watching with suspicious eyes.

Chrysalis, the terrible queen of the changelings, sleek of built, with a heart as black as obsidian and eyes with a permanent, malicious stare, stood up from her throne. She descended the stairs slowly, eying the draconequus, and came to a halt right before his muzzle. She wasn’t afraid.

“What brings you to my domain, enemy? And how did you find the guts in your heart to venture here once more?”

Discord put on his best friendly face. Friendly, but also grim and serious. Determined. “I am not your enemy, Queen Chrysalis. My enemy is Princess Celestia.”

Chrysalis tilted her head. She hadn’t expected that answer. “Princess Celestia, you say?”

“Yes. Princess Celestia is my nemesis now.”

A rustle went through the changelings in the throne hall. With a wave of her wing, Chrysalis silenced them. “And how, may I ask, has it come to that, if it is true what you say?”

Discord swallowed his sadness away, and made sure that his anger filled the gap it left behind. “Princess Celestia is responsible for the death of my friend. Thanks to her honeyed words, she has taken away the pony I loved most in life. I will never forgive her for that. That’s why I seek no forgiveness, but revenge. I know you feel that way yourself, and I couldn’t have picked a worthier ally.”

Chrysalis scoffed. She unfurled her wings, looking twice as big as she was. “An ally? After you infiltrated my hive and helped to bring it down with your friends? After you took away my children, hypnotizing them into believing giving love is better than taking it, thereby integrating them into Celestia’s kingdom?”

“Eh… when you put it that way…”

“For years I have worked, creating this new hive and this new kingdom, these new sons and daughters and this new community,” Chrysalis said, her voice growing in volume with every word she spoke. “I will not let anypony or anyone destroy it.”

Discord fiddled with his claws. “Then you should definitely take me as an ally. If I am an ally, I pose no threat to your new”— Discord looked around at the hideous changelings—“family.”

“And still I am not convinced,” Chrysalis said, stomping a hoof on the ground.

Snapping his fingers, Discord remembered that he couldn’t use magic here. He couldn’t use a quick spell of suggesting to change the queen’s mind about him. That would have been nice. He realized that he had to use his other source of power: his charms and honeyed words.

“Queen Chrysalis, I understand that you are very upset, and you have every right to be. But would you rather stay here, with your family, not being able to feed on the love and friendship of others, staying in the dark and the cold? Or would you rather take your weapons and your army, and plant your hooves and your flag upon Equestrian soil? I think I speak the truth when I say that deep in your heart, you desire revenge as well. Revenge on the ponies that opposed you, that destroyed your home, your rule, and your children. I can give you that.”

“Really?” Chrysalis said. Her tone was sarcastic.

“Certainly,” Discord said. His words were smooth, subtle, and suggesting. He knew he was in full swing. “I can give you revenge on whoever you want. Remember that I am the element of disharmony and chaos, and that I possess powerful magic that you and your army could put to good use.”

“Like how?”

“Well, amongst other things, I can offer you teleportation.” A slick smile appeared on Discord’s face. “Imagine that, Queen Chrysalis. I can teleport your entire army into the heart of Canterlot with a mere snap of my fingers.”

Chrysalis was silent, pondering over Discord’s promises. At least she wasn’t sarcastic or sceptic anymore. Discord was making progress.

He saw that. “Or… what to think of my conjuration spells? If I want, I can offer you any weapon out of any realm. My magic can rip the fabric of space and time, so all you have to do is reach out and grab bow or spear, flail or morning star. Hay, I think if I try my best, I could get you entire siege engines or catapults or ballistae or whatnot. I can do whatever I want.”

Narrowing her eyes, Chrysalis said, “Let me ask you, Discord. If I would allow you to perform your magic in my domain, would you use those powers against me?”

Discord recoiled. “Why, of course not.”

Chrysalis walked back towards her throne, and stood in the exact center. “Then proof your words to me!” She closed her eyes. Her horn glowed a poison-like green. Two tendrils, like the green claws of a monster, reached out and downwards, grasping the crystal underneath the throne. Once they reached it, they merged into the mineral, where they swirled as if the stone were hollow and filled with liquid and someone shook it. Discord knew what she was doing. When Chrysalis opened her eyes again, the glow disappeared, and the anti-magic crystal was nothing more than an ordinary stone.

There was a silence. Not even the dozens of changelings shuffled or skittered or rustled. No echo filled the vast halls. Chrysalis looked at Discord, Discord looked at Chrysalis. The queen of the changelings was ready for whatever the draconequus would throw at her. If he indeed reached out and grab a weapon from another world, Chrysalis would incinerate him with green fire from her horn. She would show him no mercy. Yet, why wasn’t Discord doing anything?

After a long five minutes, Discord coughed, stroked his goatee, and said, “My words were true, as you can see. I do not wish to harm either you or your hive or your family. I only wish to forge an alliance and get the revenge we both desire.”

Chrysalis waited a minute before she spoke again. During that time, she kept observing the draconequus as if she had just met him. Her tone towards him changed, very subtly. “It seems that you spoke the truth, Discord. Despite your past, I reckon you have earned my trust with completing this test. It was a risky move, I know that.”

“But so is entering the fortress of my former enemy,” Discord said.

Chrysalis nodded. “And that is why I think we have mutual interests after all. You speak of revenge, and I would be lying if I told you that I don’t want that too. Ever since my second defeat, my heart has been filled with a desire to restore my law and order, my dominion and conquest.” She paused for a few seconds, closing her eyes, thinking. At last, she made a decision. “Draconequus, I think you are a worthy ally to me. I accept your offer. From now on, you may call me your queen as well.”

Another rustle went through the changeling crowd. Discord briefly wondered if they were agreeing with their queen’s decision, or if they wanted to see him destroyed. He hoped it was the former.

Queen Chrysalis stood up from her throne and walked towards Discord. She nudged her head towards the far end of the hall. “Come. I will show you what my rage and grief and desire for revenge has produced.”

“Before we go, just one tiny little fact,” Discord said.

“What is it then, draconequus?”

Discord recoiled from the queen, so loud and sharp was her voice. “Eh… I think it is worth mentioning that the elements of harmony have lost one element…” Suddenly, Discord’s shoulders slumped. The sadness returned for a split-second.

Chrysalis’s head snapped around. “Which one?!”

“Kindness,” Discord answered. He was thankful he could use his magic again, as he could summon a box of glowing, folding napkins and wipe away some tears.

Chrysalis looked upon the peculiar display. “What are you crying for, ally? You should be rejoiced as I am. If what you say is true, and the elements of harmony are no longer complete, then my revenge might just go smoother than we thought.”

“Yes… yes, that is true.” Discord snorted. He had to toughen up. He had an invasion to plan. “I’m sorry, my queen. I will follow you now.”

The changelings all bowed and stepped aside as if they were just one single organism. The symmetry of their movements put Discord on edge. Chrysalis continued her way until she faced a wall of black. Discord stopped next to her. They both stood like that, awkwardly staring at the wall. Discord was just about to ask the queen what they were doing, when a new passageway opened up. They stepped through the hole and into the gloom.

Chrysalis and Discord walked through the hive for a time, through narrow hallways, up and down flights of steps, and in and out of holes in the wall. Suddenly, Discord saw that they were standing on a balcony, overlooking a big, spacious hall, illuminated by sticky, glowing laps on the wall. But it wasn’t the hall that fascinated Discord, it was what was going on in there.

Below, Thousands of changelings were as busy as bees. Upon noticing that their queen had arrived, a whole battalion of them marched forwards and stopped just below the overlook. They looked up, their blue eyes with no pupils staring at their leader. One of the changelings, clad in red armor covered with nasty barbs, spikes, and blades, and with a plumed helmet, stomped his hooves twice on the ground. “Hail Queen Chrysalis!”

“HAIL QUEEN CHRYSALIS!” the others shouted, their voices a rumbling chorus of strength.

Discord recoiled at the sudden sound. The display was impressive. “Impressive,” Discord said.

“Every member of the changeling family knows how to protect the hive, if the need arises,” Chrysalis said. “Every one of them knows how to handle weapons to protect himself. Look.”

She pointed at the far end of the hall. Discord followed her hoof. In the back, fire pits and furnaces were burning, and he could hear the clanging sound of metal upon metal. Weapons were being forged. Discord realized that his offer to rip weapons from other times and other dimensions was unnecessary. The changelings seemed to have every weapon they needed.

Discord stroked his goatee as he watched the changeling army at work, training, arming, preparing for war. In his head, he was already figuring out the best way to put this enormous army to good use. Strategies filled his mind, and tactics swirled alongside too. Discord’s eyes narrowed.

“As you can see, I didn’t sit still,” Chrysalis said. “I have a full army of changelings at my disposal, who will fight to the death for me. But I’m afraid I haven’t unleashed my family’s full potency yet. I have a large number of workers who still need combat training, and then there’s the new hatchlings. Changelings mature quickly, so in a matter of months, they will be able to wield a weapon. And of course, there is the elite unit’s training…”

Those last words were ominous. Discord shivered. “What is the elite unit of your army, if I may ask?”

“You may,” Chrysalis said, “because I am most proud of it. They are the changelings who excelled at the combat training exercises. They are the changelings who can push themselves harder, who need less sleep, and who can carry out complicated tasks. And all because I want them to.”

“What do you mean by that?” Discord said.

“During the breeding process, I infused some changelings with potent bursts of magic. Thanks to that, they have new special abilities, or amplified versions of the same abilities. Look, there they are.”

Chrysalis pointed to a smaller squadron of changelings, who marched into view from the side.

“PRESENT ARMS!” Chrysalis yelled.

The changelings stopped. All of them threw their hooves to their queen. “HAIL QUEEN CHRYSALIS!”

Discord took a moment to observe them. They were indeed different than the other changelings. They looked blacker, meaner. Their horns were larger, and ended in a few nasty spikes. Their built was powerful, and Discord could see their muscles quiver underneath their pitted hide. Yes… this could work, Discord thought.

“I see you like them,” Chrysalis said. “Let me show you their wings. ELITE GUARD, PRESENT WINGS!”

All of the changelings unfurled their wings simultaneously, so Discord could look at them. They looked twice as big as normal changeling wings, and shimmered with a cold light.

“They can easily outfly the fastest changeling,” Chrysalis said. “They are almost twice as fast.”

Discord stroked his goatee in thought. “Can they outfly pegasi?”

“I haven’t had the opportunity to try that out. Even if the changelings change shape to a pegasus, they still possess the same wingpower they have as a changeling. If only I could lure a pegasus into the hive…”

“What can they do?” Discord asked.

“Many things,” Chrysalis said, pride warming up her cold voice a bit. “They can use magic and shoot arrows of unholy light from their horns. They can produce a cloud of poisonous smoke, obscuring themselves and destroying the victim’s lungs from the inside. They can spit acid that will melt the flesh off your face.”

“Charming.”

“Furthermore, they are resistant to ballistic damage, as they have a hide much like rubber. Nothing blunt can pierce through that. No buck or punch can break their bones. Only sharp objects can get through. They have a regenerative ability, and can piece themselves together after being blown apart by the fiercest explosion.”

Discord blinked, feeling a pang of jealousy. “Quite impressive.”

“Yes.” Chrysalis nodded, then shook her head. “The only thing I couldn’t manage to produce is a resistance to magic. That is their weak spot. Unicorns will pose the greatest threat to them, but earth ponies and pegasi won’t stand a chance.”

Discord chuckled. “Say bye bye to the Wonderbolts, then.”

“But the most impressive gift I have given them, is the ability to absorb life.”

Discord wasn’t sure he heard that right. He swiveled his ears in Chrysalis’s direction. “You mean love. They can absorb love, right?”

“No,” Chrysalis said. A cold, thin smile appeared on her face. “Life. They can grab a living being, and then drain all the love out of them. Once all of it is gone, the changeling will then continue to feed. Feed, feed, feed, until the very heart and soul is consumed. There will be nothing left of the victim but a dried-out shell. The changeling has hollowed him out.”

“Oh, wow.” Discord reached for his stomach. He quivered, then burped, but he managed to hold his lunch in his belly.

Chrysalis smiled and nodded. The elite unit went on its way again, marching through a hole in the wall, and disappearing from view.

“I will lead them into battle, but you will my advisor. If it is true that you possess teleportation magic, then infiltrating the heart of Equestria will be easy.”

“The heart of Equestria…” Discord knew what that meant. He knew that he would confront Celestia and Luna, and fight them with this terrible army. He wasn’t yet sure if he was ready for that. The two alicorn princesses had the most powerful magic in Equestria, after all.

“But their training is not yet complete,” Chrysalis said. “Some of them still need to mutate to unleash their full arsenal of powers. I need time.”

“But we have time,” Discord said. “I have endured a humiliating sentence, stuck as I was as a stone statue for many years.” He gritted his teeth, as the memory passed by. “And there I stood, in the Canterlot sculpture garden. If you have been imprisoned for that long, you learn the meaning of patience. And besides, when we wait, we’ll have time to flesh out the details of our plan.”

Chrysalis tapped her chin with her hoof. “Yes. Let them think that all is well, that everything goes as they think it should go. Then the shock will be bigger, when we unleash my grand army upon our unsuspecting foe.”

Discord nodded. Until now, everything went according to plan. He didn’t care he was the second fiddle in Chrysalis’s plan. As long as the princesses would pay, everything was alright for him. He realized that there was no turning back now, but that thought did nothing to him. He had to do this, for himself, and for Fluttershy. He would avenge Fluttershy’s death through a glorious revolution.

“I have lost the pony who was most dear to me. Now it is time for Celestia and Luna to lose what they hold most dear: Equestria.”

Chrysalis turned at the draconequus. Their eyes met. They were terrible, vengeful eyes full of hate. The air around them was sparking with the spark of war.

But still, there was something missing in Discord’s heart. The death of Fluttershy left a dark gap in it, which he had filled up with his plans for war. But now that everything was laid out, and all they had to do was wait and plot, then what was left to fill that black void?

It was then that Discord realized that he not only wanted revenge to fill that gap. He needed something else. He needed love.

Chrysalis tilted her head and watched Discord, reading the doubtfulness in his eyes. For a moment, she looked genuinely concerned. Her voice sounded unlike an evil queen, as she said, “You really cared about her, didn’t you? You really cared for the pony friend you spoke of. You think about her.”

“Yes…” Discord said.

“Revenge will not give her back, draconequus, but, maybe, I can give you back some of the love you felt for her.”

“Wh-wh-what do you mean?”

Queen Chrysalis did a step towards him. “I mean what I said. As a token of my trust, I can give you back some of the love. Every time, my children fly out and attack distant farmsteads, siphoning the love out of other ponies. They have gathered a lot of love already, so I can probably part with some of it.”

Discord wasn’t sure what to think of that. He had no idea how to visualize such an action.

“I see you do not understand what I say,” Chrysalis said. “So let me show you.”

Before Discord knew what was happening, Queen Chrysalis unfurled one wing and wrapped it around Discord’s slender, snake-like waist. As he was locked in that iron grip, Chrysalis shoved him closer towards her. Her horn began to glow that familiar unholy green. Her eyes flared up. For a moment, Discord thought she was going to stab him through the heart with her horn. But instead, he felt the cool, sharp tip touch his heart, and staying there. Then, something strange happened.

Love, like a silken soft river, flowed into his heart. It felt good—very good. Like a precious ribbon made of gold, the love wrapped itself around his heart, and his heart absorbed all of it greedily. For a moment, just for one single second maybe, Discord felt as if he hadn’t lost anypony. For a split-second, he knew that everything was going to be okay, that nothing had happened. It felt as if his entire heart grew wings and fluttered upwards on a healthy summer breeze. The gap was mended. His heart was complete.

Chrysalis’s horn kept glowing, prolonging the moment as long as she wanted. The love she gave Discord was only a fraction of what her drones had gathered throughout the years, but she reckoned it would be enough to keep Discord on her side. She knew that he would get addicted to love, just as she herself and her children were. It might feel good, but soon, Discord would feel hungry as well. This was the perfect way to make him her servant.

“Yes… yes…” Discord said with a hoarse voice. The emotions, those happy emotions fueled by love found their way into his heart. She was there, Fluttershy. In his mind, he was sitting opposite of her at the table, sharing a nice afternoon tea. He saw himself place the cucumber sandwiches on the table. He saw how Fluttershy’s face brightened like a sunrise after a cold night.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Discord,” Fluttershy said.

She’s actually talking! With a voice laden with disbelief, Discord said, “I-i-is this real?”

“Of course it is,” Fluttershy said. “The emotion is real. It is as real as you want it to be. Would you like it to be real, Discord?”

“Yes… yes. I want it to be real.”

Fluttershy stood up, fluttered over to Discord, and embraced him. He felt her soft forelegs gently squeezing his shoulders. “I will be there when you need me, Discord.”

This was too good to be true. Involuntarily, Discord started second guessing. “But… this can’t be real.” For a moment, the ghost image flickered, as the disbelief took over. Cold realization managed to creep its way into Discord’s love-filled heart. The happiness felt strange, artificial, fake. But he wanted it to be real. He wanted Fluttershy to be alive. He decided it didn’t matter if the scene was real or not. He just wanted to have a good time with his lost friend.

Discord wanted to utter a last cry of happiness, but his throat was too dry. “Fluttershy…”

Then the image faded. Fluttershy, her cottage, the tea, the cucumber sandwiches; everything dissolved into a green mist. Discord didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to waste his last few seconds with his friend. When at last he blinked, he was back in Chrysalis’s hive, staring into the queen’s slit-pupil eyes.

In a flash of light and magic, Queen Chrysalis took on the form of Fluttershy. Her sickly, pitted black hide became smooth and buttery yellow. The ragged locks of slimy mane became smooth, graceful and pink. “I will be there when you need me, Discord,” she said, mimicking the pony’s voice perfectly.

Discord wanted to reach out and hug her, even though he knew it was Chrysalis whom he would hug. His heart broke again. It was as if all of the love backfired on him now. He once again felt hollow and empty, maybe even worse than he felt at first, now that he had once again been reminded of what he had lost. He slowly shook his head. “This isn’t real. This is fake, all fake.”

“It is as real as you want it to be, Discord. We can meet again soon and have tea, can’t we?”

It seemed as if Chrysalis had given something back to Discord, and at the same time it didn’t. Discord had never been more confused. His emotions were all tangled up. He needed some alone time to process all of this. And maybe, just maybe, he would ask Chrysalis to conjure another illusion in his mind. Yes, he would probably do that.

Suddenly, Chrysalis changed back to her natural form. Discord felt a crack in his heart. He forced his facial expression to be at least a little bit normal. He forced the salty tears that pricked his eyes to disappear. He snapped his fingers. He needed magic to whisk away his tears.

But Chrysalis wasn’t done with him yet. “Come,” she said in her cold voice. “We have a lot of planning to do, with the time we have.” And with that, she turned around and walked back the way she came.

Discord stood alone on the balcony for a little while, gazing downwards. But he wasn’t looking at the soldiers. He was looking at something nopony but he could see. With a voice as soft as the mare he loved, he spoke her name.

“Fluttershy…”

Intermission: lost and found

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One year before the Heat Seekers’ downfall.

For two whole years, nothing extraordinary happened. Two years after Discord’s alliance with Chrysalis, life in Equestria went on as usual, while nopony knew about the lingering threat. The mane six, Spike, and Starlight Glimmer had grieved for a long time after Fluttershy’s death. Even the cutie map became silent, as if it wanted to offer them some respite. The cutie map knew they weren’t ready yet ready for new friendship missions; Equestria had to wait until they felt better. In the end, it proved to be Applejack, staunch-hearted, faithful, and strong as she was, who helped them get out of the lingering depression.

“Fluttershy wouldn’t want us sitting here, crying, grieving, when there are things left unsolved,” she had said. “Fluttershy would want us to dry our tears, go out there into the world, and make it a better place. She would want us to spread the magic of friendship and spread kindness all over Equestria. Now, are we gonna honor her last will or not?”

And so they got to work again. No sooner than the echoes of Applejack’s voice faded away through the large throne hall, the cutie map sprang to life again. It raised from the ground, and showed the great kingdom of Equestria and its friendship problems.

The mane six, Spike, and Starlight Glimmer went on friendship missions all over Equestria, settling conflicts and helping others where they could. The map kept calling and calling them, and they never ignored a single call. They traveled and talked and fixed what was broken. The missions gave them a sense of purpose again, and filled, however shallowly, the gaps in their hearts. But no matter how many friendship problems they solved, no matter how often they came together, there was always one empty throne, standing desolate at the round table. And every time, they felt tears in their eyes, as the memories of the mare that occupied it flashed by. Memories of the element of kindness.

And all the while Princess Celestia observed her student, Twilight Sparkle, the princess of friendship, through her letters. She saw how she grew from the unsecure, secluded student to the strong-hearted, resolute princess she was now. She knew that Twilight Sparkle and her friends felt the loss of their friend in their hearts, but she also knew that they were strong, and that they could pull themselves out of the depression. In the end, she proved to be right.

But the wellbeing of the guardians of friendship wasn’t the only problem that lingered in Princess Celestia’s mind. Equestria had lost one of the elements of harmony, and, however cold it sounds, it had to be replaced. Somepony had to fill in the gap, or the other elements would be forever weakened. In order to keep Equestria stable, to make Equestria complete, a new element of kindness had to be found. And that was why Princess Celestia summoned her faithful student, Princess Twilight Sparkle, to her court in Canterlot.

Twilight bowed before her ruler. “You wanted to see me, Princess Celestia?”

“Please rise, Twilight Sparkle. You don’t have to bow for me,” Celestia said.

“Nor for me,” Luna added.

Princess Twilight blushed and rose to meet the princesses’ gazes. “I answered your calls. Is something the matter?”

“There is,” Celestia said. She sighed, looked down at the ground, swallowed, and then met Twilight’s gaze again. “We have all grieved for our poor Fluttershy. She was a special pony, a pony worthy of bearing the element of kindness.”

Twilight Sparkle sniffed. “She was.”

“And that is why we have summoned you, Twilight Sparkle,” Princess Luna said. “Fluttershy was not only a pony, she was the bearer of one of the elements of harmony. With her gone, there is not only a gap in everypony’s hearts, but also a gap in the magic of friendship, the very thing that keeps Equestria together.”

Perking up, Twilight said, “I… I think I understand. The land of Equestria, it needs…”

“A new element of kindness,” Luna said.

Princess Celestia gave Luna a thankful nod. She had no idea how to tell Twilight that without the fall of tears, but luckily her sister was more adept at hiding her emotions than she was. “My sister is right,” she said. “Equestria needs a new element of kindness, or the natural order of things will be disturbed. No matter how strong you all are together, we simply need a new element.”

Twilight had never before thought of that. She thought they did fine. Yes, she thought that all of her friends had moved on, and had given the death of Fluttershy a place. Her eyes shimmered. “But… how?”

“The elements of harmony reincarnate,” Celestia said. “Whenever a bearer passes away, a new bearer of the element is born. It is a vicious cycle.”

“After you defeated my dark side,” Luna said, “you activated the elements of harmony, and with that, you also made sure that they will last forever. New bearers will be born when old ones wither. Those bearers do not know of their destiny, but once they approach the element, their true colors will be shown. It is just a matter of finding the right pony.”

Twilight swallowed. “That is… I can’t believe it.”

“It is true,” Celestia said. “As we speak, there is somepony somewhere in Equestria who is the living embodiment of kindness and carries it within his or her soul. You have to find that element, however difficult it will be.”

“One pony in all of Equestria,” Twilight whispered. “But… he or she could be anywhere. He or she could be anypony.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “It is true that the task of finding the new element will be difficult, but don’t forget that it is fated. In the end, you will find the new element. It will reveal itself at the right time at the right place.”

“But… how can you be sure?” Twilight asked.

“We can feel it,” Luna said. “My sister and I can feel the presence of the new element in the world, in Equestria. We cannot find out exactly where the element is; that is a task to be carried out by the elements of harmony themselves. But we do know that he or she is in this world, waiting for you to discover him or her.”

“Look out for an extraordinary pony during your travels, Twilight,” Celestia said. “That is all you need to do. Observe, watch, search, and then the element of kindness will reveal him or herself to you.”

Despite the advice the princesses gave her, Twilight Sparkle was left with many, many questions. She realized that an important task was given to her. But she also knew that she was not alone. She would ask her friends to help her in her search. It was just a matter of waiting and searching.

Chapter seven: Raspberry Trick

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Also one year before the Heat Seekers’ downfall.

“You gotta bekidding me. You fixed all our outdoor bows?”

“Well, almost,” Raspberry Trick said. He reared up on his hind legs, put the bow between them, and bent it. Grabbing the string, he slid it over the tip. “There. Now I fixed all of the outdoor bows.”

He grabbed the nock, in the middle of the string, and pulled it with the feathers of his wing, testing the draw. Then he narrowed his eyes, and observed the parts he had fixed intently. He shrugged. “Nah, this won’t break again.”

“Why, I don’t know what to say,” Nockle Stringer said.

“Even if you say nothing, I know you like me.”

Nockle Stringer waved her hoof. “Oh bugger off!”

Raspberry Trick put the outdoor bow, a sturdy, wooden thing, down. “No, seriously. Look, I fixed all of the compound bows too. You know the one which makes that strange noise every time you shoot it? Turns out all that baby needed was a drop of oil at the cams.”

“Wow, that’s… wow. So simple?”

Trick smirked. “Aaaaaaaand I recalibrated the scopes on the compounds. They should be crystal clear now. Nopony will miss the target and will be able to blame the scopes, ha ha.”

Nockle Stringer put her hooves to her hips. “Jeez, Trick, I could resign here and now and let you take over the place.” She waved her hoof around at the hall of the Canterlot Archery Club. The occasional twang of the bows and the pop when one of the archers hit the targets reverberated off the walls. She wouldn’t trade those sounds for a million bits. And neither would Raspberry Trick. This was their place.

“Care for a little shooting?” Raspberry said. “You know, so we can test out the bows.”

Nockle tilted her head. “You’re just trying to let me keep the club open two hours after closing time, you sneaky pony.”

“Aw… You caught me,” Raspberry Trick said, throwing both wings in the air.

Nockle Stringer looked at the clock on the wall. “Ah, well, why not? I could use the practice.”

Walking towards the racks, Trick searched for a nice bow to shoot. He took a moment to let his eyes feast on all the weapons in front of him. There were simple wooden bows, trusty and surprisingly powerful. There were recurve bows all the way from Saddle Arabia, with their iconic, double-s shape. And of course, there were the highly sophisticated compound bows. Those were black, and looked menacing with all their gears and scopes and strange, intimidating framework. Actually, Raspberry Trick didn’t even need to think about which bow he would pick. He had fallen in love with the wicked compounds the moment he first laid eyes on them as a little colt. It had taken him many years to just be able to draw it, but once he could… Boy, what a power!

He grabbed a compound bow, checked the draw, smiled, and walked back to the lane, where Nockle Stringer was already waiting for him. She held the outdoor bow which Raspberry Trick had repaired in her hooves. “Let’s see if your repairs are worth something.”

“Yes, or else that bow might crack and slap you in the face,” Trick countered.

“Hmph. Very mature.”

Raspberry Trick shrugged. “Hey, no hard feelings until after the match—until after I beat you.”

Letting out a chuckle, Nockle Stringer said, “We’ll see about that.”

“Ladies first,” Trick said, waving his hoof in mock courtesy.

Nockle Stringer took her position. She stood on her hind legs, holding the bow in her forehoof and knocking an arrow. After the click of the nock, Nockle Stringer grabbed the string with the tips of the biggest feathers in her wings. Slowly, she drew the bow. Keeping one eye closed, Nockle Stringer aimed for the yellow part of the target, right in the middle. She licked her lips as she aimed. Then she let go.

Twang!

“That’s a good shot,” Raspberry Trick said, observing Nockle’s arrow. “I think it’s a nine. Nice.”

Nockle Stringer put down the bow and looked Trick over as if she met him for the first time. “You’re playing it nice now, aren’t you?”

Picking up his compound bow, Trigg shrugged. “Just being a gentlemane here.” He leveled the bow and looked through the scope. “If you competed with me more often, you would know that I take every competition seriously.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we’re shooting weapons here, and there is nothing more serious than a weapon.”

Nockle Stringer let out a sigh. “Oh please don’t tell me about your weapon fetish, Trick. I heard all about that behind the bar. It’s not that we will ever actually use these weapons against, well, somepony.”

Raspberry Trick nocked an arrow and drew the string with his wing. “You never know, you never know,” he said, his voice bearing a strange edge.

Nockle jolted as Raspberry shot the bow. “That’s an eight,” Raspberry said, “darn.” He laid down his bow and looked at Nockle. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

Nockle Stringer shook her head, and whisked away the strange feeling Trick’s words had caused. “Nothing… nothing.” She recovered, and decided to change the subject. “You really rocked that fundraiser party we threw last week. I have never known you were such a good guitar player.”

“What can I say? If it has strings, I can destroy something with it.”

Nockle Stringer took her position. “Not funny, Trick.”

“No, I mean it. I use the strings on the bows to destroy the targets, and I use the strings on a guitar to destroy ponies’ eardrums.”

It was a clever twist, and Nockle Stringer let out a small chuckle before she once again focused on the target.

Twang!

The arrow trembled as it pierced the red part of the target. “That’s an eight,” Nockle said.

Trick nodded, picked up his bow, and got ready for the shot.

“But I also meant what I said, Raspberry,” Nockle said. “Thanks to your awesome performance, we raised a huge amount of money for the archery club. Well, you could have seen it for yourself; it was an enormous crowd. I guess there are quite a lot of rock-loving ponies in Canterlot…”

The twang of Trick’s bow interrupted her musings. “That’s a nine,” Trick said. “Oh, and by the way, you’re welcome. I had an awesome time rocking that crowd to another world.”

“Yes…” Nockle got into firing position. “But it still shows your devotion to the club.”

“What can I say? The club is my place to be. I guess it’s the only place where I can shoot bows, and it is the only place I can talk about bows.”

“Fair enough,” Nockle said, and shut one eye.

Twang!

“Eight again,” Trick said, as he spotted the arrow in the red. He picked up his bow.

“And don’t forget about our stand at the great Canterlot sports festival last year. You got us like a million new members.”

Raspberry Trick smirked. “Are you ever gonna stop complimenting me?”

“Not until you stop giving your heart and soul to this place, and please, please, please don’t take that advice.”

Trick let his arrow fly. It landed in the yellow again. It was a nine. “Sweet.”

Nockle stringer grabbed an arrow, knocked it, and took aim.

“You know, Nockle, I had a great time at the Canterlot sports festival. I mean, you should have seen the looks on some of those colts’ and fillies’ faces when they heard they could get a chance to shoot. It feels good to inspire others to try this awesome sport. Those moments give me a kind of… purpose.” Raspberry Trick waved his wings. “This place gives me a kind of purpose.”

Nockle Stringer suppressed a chuckle, but not good enough. “I never knew you were so philosophical, Trick.”

Raspberry Trick wanted to say something back, but before he had the chance, Nockle Stringer fired her arrow.

“A nine,” Trick said. “Are you ever going to stop shooting such high scores?”

“By the way,” Nockle said, “are you going to compete in the tournaments this weekend?” But then she realized the silliness of her question. “Oh, wait, of course you are.”

“Of course I am. You know I would never miss a chance to show off my skills.”

“Hmph, well, don’t get too—“

Twang!

“I can do what you do,” Raspberry Trick said. “Nine it is.”

“There we go! Last arrow,” Nockle Stringer announced. She drew her bow with her wing. Breathed in, breathed out. She let it fly.

“Wow! That’s a ten, Nockle. Bullseye! Not bad… not bad at all.” Now Raspberry Trick was extra motivated to score at least one bullseye himself. He eagerly grabbed his compound. But then he put it down again. “Wait a minute…”

“What is it?” Nockle said.

“Well, let’s count up your score. You have nine plus eight plus eight plus nine plus ten, which makes forty-four. I have an eight, a nine, a nine again, and another nine, which together makes thirty-five.”

Nockle Stringer counted along. She realized what Trick wanted to say. “Thirty-five. That means…”

“That means that I have to score a bullseye now,” Raspberry Trick said. He picked up his bow and checked the scope, just to be sure. Then he stood on his hind legs, grabbed an arrow, and knocked it.

Any other contestant would feel at least a little bit of stress. No matter how good you are, a ten is hard to shoot. But it was Raspberry Trick who was pulling the strings, and he didn’t earn his crosshair cutie mark for nothing. His heartbeat stayed the same. No perspiration appeared on his forehead. His hind hooves didn’t tremble. His wing didn’t quiver, as he drew his compound bow. He was cool, as cool as any serial killer. Raspberry Trick locked himself in a room with just the target. There was no world around him anymore. It became reduced to just eighteen meters. It was just a pony, a bow, an arrow, and a target. This was his fight. This was his weapon. This was his destiny. This was what he was born to do: shooting.

Raspberry Trick breathed out. The tip of his wing let the string go. The arrow was gone.

And landed dead-center in the target.

Raspberry Trick let out a whoop. “Yeah! Bullseye!” He jumped up, and did a little victory dance in his booth.

Nockle Stringer held back a chuckle. She loved seeing Raspberry Trick like that. Somehow, he always got completely worked up in his competitions. He had a winner’s attitude. Nockle Stringer knew that only Raspberry Trick would perform a humiliating victory dance when he shot a bullseye—humiliating for himself. Those little dances always destroyed the concentration of his unfortunate opponents, but he always got away with it. Nockle Stringer guessed that even the jury must find his little displays quite entertaining.

Walking over to his opponent, Raspberry Trick stuck out his hoof. “You did good.”

“But not good enough, I know,” Nockle Stringer said with a sigh.

Trick raised Nockle’s chin with his wing. “Hey, I didn’t mean it that way. I just complimented you on your skills. As I said, I take competitions and winning very seriously.”

With the silly victory dance fresh in her mind, Nockle Stringer almost made a sarcastic comment to that allegation. But instead, she smiled, looked Raspberry Trick in the eyes, and cooperated with his plan to keep the shooting range open for an extra hour or two. “Best two out of three?”

Much to Raspberry’s content, it turned out that their ‘little competition’ lasted for three hours straight. The sun was already setting, and Luna’s moon slowly took its place. They had such good fun; Raspberry Trick didn’t even notice how long they had been shooting. Time flies as fast as an arrow when you have fun.

He trotted over the Canterlot streets with a content smile on his face. In the end, he had won the competition. Silently, he contemplated about what he loved most in life: winning or shooting.

Shooting ofcourse, he thought. Because without shooting there can be no winner.

With that brand new piece of philosophy in his mind, Trick reached his home. His home wasn’t very impressive, just white marble and colorful, stained-glass windows, as were most of the Canterlot houses. But still, Trick wouldn’t trade it for all of Equestria.

Once he was inside, he hung up his jacket and entered the living room.

“Raspberry, there you are!”

Raspberry Trick sighed. “I’m sorry I’m so late, mom and dad. But you know how those things go.”

His mother was a bright purple unicorn with soft, blue eyes. She had the kind of voice that seemed as if she were always concerned about the pony to whom she was talking. His father was a burly pegasus stallion with a handlebar moustache. He didn’t have the fine, complicated features Trick’s mother possessed, but he had a striking character of his own. “Yeah, yeah ‘Time flies like an arrow when you’re having fun,’” he said, “we have heard that simile more than once, you know?”

Raspberry Trick grinned broadly. “Yes, I know.”

“You must be starving, Raspberry,” his mother said with that familiar concern as if he had broken a wing. “We saved you some dinner. I’ll get it for you.”

“Yeah, you were lucky, son. I almost ate all of it,” Trick’s dad said.

As the pan with leftover vegetables reached the table, Raspberry Trick dug in. Maybe some of his mother’s concern was justified—he was hungry. With a mouthful of lettuce, he said, “So how were your days?”

“Oh, you know,” his mother said, “lots of poor, injured ponies.” She was a nurse at the Canterlot City Hospital. The perfect job where her concern for others was her strong suit, although Trick wouldn’t agree. Something that looked close to a smile appeared on her lips. “But we made them all better.”

“Yup, and I made houses better.” Trick’s dad was a construction worker, hence the enormous appetite. The threat he made about almost eating Trick’s portion was dead serious.

“The usual, I see,” Trick said, as he put a hot potato in his mouth. “Well, I did the usual too: shooting.”

Trick’s father had a cup of black coffee in front of him. He took a sip, and then looked his son in the eyes. “But we also have something special to tell you!” His gruff voice took on a childish anticipation.

“Alright, spill it,” Trick said.

His father’s stubble-covered lips broke into a huge, broad grin. “Your mother and me have managed to get the same weekend off. So that means that we can do some fun stuff together!”

Trick’s mother sat down as well, with a cup of tea floating beside her. “It would be nice to spend some quality time together, don’t you think? I mean, it’s quite a rare occasion when your dad and I have the same days off. It is, well, you know, good for the family bonding.”

Suddenly, dad’s heavy hoof slammed upon the table. “Yeah! We can do a ton of fun stuff in the weekend. We can go fishing, or we can go hiking in the mountains, or we can swim in the lake…”

“A-a-and don’t forget about playing board games, go shopping, or making poetry,” his mother said.

Raspberry Trick bit his lip. “Eh… I don’t wanna ruin everything, but this weekend there is a large archery tournament, and I was kinda hoping that I could compete, as I do with every competition.”

Trick’s mother looked genuinely sad. His father frowned his bristly eyebrows. “Son… we know how important archery is for you, but we might not get this chance again for the next two months.”

“Yes,” his mother added, “we don’t see each other altogether a lot, and… well… it would mean a lot to us if you would spend the day with us.”

The things both his parents said sounded pretty fun. They were indeed activities which they hadn’t done a lot before. It was true that a chance where both his mother and his father had the same days off was rare. They both had very busy jobs and worked very hard. Once they came home, they were sapped, so there never was much opportunity to do something active with them. Triggerhoof’s eyes darted about, as if he were waiting for the little angel and the little devil to appear on his shoulders, and try to convince him to make a choice.

Trick’s parents saw that their son was contemplating their proposals. They also saw that he was having a hard time choosing.

“We’re not gonna push you, son,” his father said. “We know that archery is your passion and all, so you should do what you wanna do.”

Trick’s eyes stopped darting about. “Really? I’m free to choose?”

Both his father and his mother nodded.

Raspberry Trick felt the load fall of his shoulders. He was free to choose, so it didn’t matter what he did. Then the choice was obvious to him. “I’m sorry, mom and dad, but if I can really choose, then I choose archery. I hope you don’t mind.”

Swallowing hard, his mother said, “N-n-no son. You should do what makes you happy.”

“Great!” Raspberry Trick shoved his plate away and let out a burp. As he stood up, he stretched his legs. A yawn escaped his mouth. “Wow, I’m tired. I guess I’ll just call it an early night.”

“Yes… eh… do that, my little Raspberry.” His mother had a hard time masking her disappointment.

“Good night, mom and dad!”

Dad nodded. His mother waved her hoof. “Goodnight.”

Once Raspberry Trick’s hoofsteps became muffled by the thick carpet upstairs, his mother looked at his father. She was barely able to hold back her tears. Her knees became shaky. Luckily, the strong forelegs of Trick’s father were waiting for her. She fell into his hooves. “Oh, Block, when will we get our son back?”

Building Block patted his wife on the back. His rough voice grew softer. “Com, come, Carrey. he’s not lost, you know? He’s still our son.”

Carrey let a few more tears slip over her cheeks, then she mustered some strength and sat down on her chair again. “I-I-I really hoped he would choose our fun weekend. Do we mean so little to him?”

“Of course not,” Building Block said. “He loves us, and he doesn’t want to make us unhappy or anything. He just has… other interests. I mean, you know how crazy he is with the archery thing. Crazy, and darn good too.”

Carrey fiddled with her cup of tea. “Yes, he is good. And… happy, right?”

Letting out a low, rumbling laugh, Block said, “He sure is! And that’s what matters, right?”

“Yes… I suppose…”

There was a silence. Carrey’s head hung low. Building Block went for another coffee, thinking about how he could cheer his wife up as he worked. When he sat down and looked a moment in the cup with the pitch black beverage, he got a sudden idea. Not much of a complex idea, but it was an idea nonetheless. “Hey, if you want, I can ask him again tomorrow. Maybe he changes his mind. Maybe I can use a bit of smooth talking to convince him of our awesome ideas. I’m sure I can make it happen.”

Carrey looked up at her husband. “Do you really think so?”

“Sure,” Block said with a shrug. “I’ll try my best.”

Another silence. Building Block sipped his coffee, when another idea struck him.

“Hey, Carrey, you know what we can do too? We can just go to his archery competition and cheer for him. I’m sure he would like that. We have the whole weekend off, so we can be there for him.”

Carrey nodded, but her eyes still looked sorrowful. “Well, at least we’ll be doing something together, more or less.”

Building Block slammed his hoof on the table. “Yeah! We can make flags, bring confetti and streamers and balloons. And snacks—loads of snacks. And soda, of course. Maybe popcorn too, even though we’re not watching a movie.”

Seeing his enthusiasm, Carrey did smile this time. She loved it when the big, burly construction worker was as giddy as a schoolcolt.

Building Block reached out with his hoof, and grabbed Carrey’s. “We’ll make it a party nopony will ever forget. We’ll be the most enthusiastic supporters in the crowd.” But then he caught himself. “I mean… the most enthusiastic supporters in Equestria!”

Their eyes met, the love shining through them.

“And you know,” Building Block said after a minute or two, “it’s not as if we’re gonna lose him or anything. If he still doesn’t want to spend the weekend with us, I’m sure we can get another weekend off and try again with our activities. We have time. And this time, we will give Raspberry a heads up, so he knows that he shouldn’t plan something on the same weekend we save for him. How does that sound?”

The doubtfulness returned to Carrey’s eyes. She took a sip of her tea, but it couldn’t calm her down. “Are you really going to try and change his mind tomorrow?”

Building Block stood up, walked over to his wife, and hugged her. “I promise. Tomorrow, I’ll get it done.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow!”

Chapter eight: third time's the charm

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Twilight Sparkle and her friends hardly got any chance at finding the new element of kindness.

Just a few days after Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had given Twilight the task of finding him or her, something strange happened, something that would signal a new era in Equestrian history.

One day, the cutie map called everypony to Canterlot. Apparently, there was a friendship problem there. The mane six and Starlight packed their bags and jumped on the train towards Canterlot. Once they arrived at the shiny capital of Equestria, they couldn’t stop giggling and guessing what the friendship problem might be. They found it strange that in such a beautiful city a friendship problem might find a chance to root itself like weed. Together, they walked over the broad main street towards the city center, overshadowed by the glorious Canterlot Castle.

What the main six and Starlight found was no friendship problem. It was something much greater than they could ever expect. They found war.

“What in tarnation is that?!”

Applejack pointed at a crack. Not a crack in glass, not a crack in the stone, but a crack in the very world. The enormous rip shimmered in a dazzling light. It grew wider and wider. An ominous sound came from it. Everypony stopped and looked at Twilight, expecting to get an answer.

But Twilight didn’t look back. Her gaze was glued to the crack. “I… I don’t know…”

The sound swelled in volume. It sounded like the buzzing of a million insects. Twilight and her friends stopped and stared at the widening crack. As they did, they saw that more and more ponies joined them. Ponies opened their windows or their doors, wondering what was going on. Ponies stepped outside and gathered in a crowd, staring at the strange sky.

The first changelings appeared. They wore dark red harnesses. Their blades and spikes gleamed and glittered in the sun. Their eyes were full of cold, murderous fire.

And after the first few ranks had passed through the portal, their queen followed. Queen Chrysalis looked contently at her super changelings that made up the front line, and when she looked over her shoulder, she could see the millions of other changeling infantry soldiers which stood at the ready—ready to conquer.

Twilight and her friends were glued to the ground. A cold shiver of terror brought back a déjà vu feeling. This was the third time the changelings had attempted an invasion, and they all realized that they couldn’t have picked a better time. Now the elements of harmony were one short. They were at a loss of kindness. They were weakened.

But then, through the hordes of changelings pouring out of the portal, Pinkie spotted something. She smiled. “Don’t worry everypony, look!” She pointed at the wall of black and green. A strange, multicolored figure could be seen, skulking behind Queen Chrysalis in the air.

“Look everypony, it’s Discord,” Pinkie said. “He’s right behind that evil-gleeful Queen Chrysalis. He’s going to save us all!” Pinkie imagined Discord grabbing Chrysalis, summoning a rope, and bind her wings and legs tight while he held her upside down. Then, Discord would put her down and present her to them as a neat birthday present. But when Pinkie saw that her fantasy didn’t come true, she started second guessing herself.

The rest of her friends kept observing the scene, and narrowed their eyes. “Eh, Pinkie,” Starlight Glimmer said, “I… don’t think Discord is on our side.”

“Aw!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Does that mean we aren’t friends anymore?”

Starlight looked again at the incoming invasion. “I’m afraid so, Pinkie. I’m afraid so.”

“Sister! There is a great disturbance,” Luna said, pointing through the windows.

Celestia nodded. “I could sense them. They have come again, and they have come for Equestria.”

Princess Celestia walked towards the wall of the throne hall.

“My sister, what are you doing? We must stop them!”

“Yes,” Princess Celestia said, “but first, you have to see this.”

She pressed a hidden panel on the checkered floor tiles, and the wall opened. Luna raised her eyebrows and followed her sister inside.

It was but a small chamber. To the left was a little, round alcove. Light streamed into it from high windows, illuminating a strange orb. Luna couldn’t look at the orb. Every time she glanced at the thing, she felt as if someone tugged at her soul. She wanted in that orb. She shrugged off the strange feeling and looked to the right. There were mannequins bearing plate armor, one set made of polished gold, and the other made of dark silver.

“This is the chamber of things I hoped never to use again,” Princess Celestia said. “Behind you is an object that must not fall into the wrong hooves, or else the results might be disastrous.”

“Why are we here?” Luna said.

“For this.” Princess Celestia lifted a piece of plate armor from the mannequin. “I had hoped that there would never be any need to use these again, but I know that in the battle that will unfold, we need all the protection we can get.”

Luna looked at her sister; her sister looked back. Then they both nodded, and turned towards the armor-clad mannequins.

The citizens of Ponyville realized what was going on. They started yelling, running, seeking the safety of their homes. Luckily, the changelings didn’t attack them yet. No, this force of changelings, these stormtroopers, were a coordinated assault; a surgical strike upon the heart of Equestria: Canterlot Castle.

Queen Chrysalis looked down at the frightened population of Canterlot. “Look, Discord,” she said, smiling. “Soon, this will all be ours. Every single pony down there will belong to me, and my family will have enough love to feed on for millennia!”

“Yes…” Discord said, but his tone was wavering. He flapped his wings but slowly, and his lanky body was hunched over, as if the draconequus constantly looked down. Discord found it hard to think clearly. It felt as if there were giant holes in his mind. For two years he had fed off Chrysalis’s love and illusions. Two years he had found solace in these illusions. Illusions of Fluttershy. Discord and his imaginary Fluttershy had done such wonderful things the past two years, but after every illusion, Discord felt more and more drained. Soon, he could only handle but one illusion a day. Both his heart and his mind couldn’t take more than one. Now the moment had come, but he was not exactly in tip-top condition.

“Look sharp, draconequus,” Queen Chrysalis said, as she threw a quick glance at Discord. “Join me in glorious battle, and afterwards, you can have all the Fluttershy you want. Memory amplifications, illusions, scenes, hugs, you name it.”

Discord looked up. His neck let out a cracking sound. “R-r-really?”

Putting a wing on the draconequus’s bent back, Chrysalis said, “Really.”

Down below, Rainbow Dash became anxious for action. “Why do we keep staring like this? Why aren’t we doing anything?”

Applejack looked at her friend. “I feel what you feel, Rainbow Dash, but just look at the size of that army.”

Several thousand changelings already cluttered the skies in a black and green cloud. And the portal was still open. There was just no end to them.

Twilight turned around. “Applejack is right, Rainbow Dash. Only Starlight, you, and I can fly up there, and you know we are stronger together. We are already one element short, so splitting up is not a good idea.”

“And even if we would fly up there,” Starlight said, “I doubt we can make much of a difference against a whole army.”

Rainbow Dash’s scowl turned into an expression of pure desperation, as she realized that Starlight was right. What in Equestria could they do against a whole army, especially if there were only six of them?

Applejack laid a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, sugar cube. As soon as the fight comes to us, we will give them everything we have.”

Snorting, Rainbow Dash nodded. She hoped that she would meet the queen on the battlefield, and Discord too. “I just can’t believe that sea snake is our enemy again.”

Rarity had a strange feeling in her stomach, as if she fell down from a great height. As she reached the bottom of the abyss, a cold haze got to her mind. “So this is what he was preparing for…” she whispered.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Rainbow Dash said.

And as the battle unfolded, Rarity told all her friends about her conversation with Discord as quickly as she could.

“Ma, dad, there are changelings!”

Raspberry Trick’s house was a few blocks away from the center of town, but that didn’t stop Raspberry from grabbing some binoculars and look at the incoming army in the skies.

Carrey and Building Block joined their son at the window. Carrey’s mouth fell open with disbelief, and she started to shiver. Building Block looked at the army with a scowl on his face. He wasn’t that scared, but he was certainly surprised.

“Oh my…” Carrey whispered.

“Looks like we have a fight on our hooves,” Building Block said.

Raspberry Trick put the binoculars down and turned around. “I gotta help them! I gotta help defend Equestria.”

He wanted to run, but his dad stopped him with a big hoof. “Whoa there, son. Did you see how big that army is?”

“Yeah,” Raspberry said, “and that’s why they will need every hoof they can get.”

“Little Raspberry, it is much safer if you stay indoors,” his mother said. “It will be much safer for all of us.”

“Listen to your mother, son,” Building Block said.

“Only the princesses can save us,” Carrey said, her voice the barest hint of a sound.

Raspberry Trick tried to find a way to get through his father’s massive hoof. “But I’m sure everypony stays indoors and cowers like that. I don’t wanna. I wanna fight for the land I love.”

With a grunt, Building Block said, “Don’t try to be a hero, Raspberry. The land of Equestria has heroes enough. And sometimes, adventures don’t end so well for the hero.”

Suddenly, Trick saw a gap. He ducked down, rolled, and jumped to his hooves.

“Raspberry!”

But Raspberry Trick was already in the living room. “I don’t want to be a hero, mom and dad.”

His father wanted to jump after him, but he knew that his son was much too quick to catch. He could only hope to talk him out of it. “But what do you wanna be then, son?”

Raspberry Trick bolted towards the door. Before he vanished, he shouted, “A soldier!”

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna truly looked like warhorses. They were clad from horn to hoof in their armor, and they clattered with musical metal sounds as they walked towards the window. As soon as they reached it, the captain of the royal guard burst into the throne hall.

“Your highnesses. We have gathered everypony we could muster. Every soldier is awaiting your command.”

“Protect the ponies of Canterlot, captain,” Princess Celestia said. “Protect them and keep them safe, no matter the cost. Make sure they will be spared of a terrible fate.”

“And stay in formation,” Princess Luna said. “The changelings don’t know our Equestrian tactical formations, so if you see anypony who only slightly deviates from our formations, attack him, for it will be a changeling.”

The captain saluted. “Wise words, your highnesses.” He turned around and galloped away.

Raspberry Trick knew where he needed to go. He needed to gear up, to prepare himself for battle. He headed towards the Canterlot Archery club.

It was closed. Raspberry Trick banged with his hooves on the door. “Open, open, for Celestia’s sake!”

“Raspberry?” a voice said.

“Nockle! Open up!”

The door opened. Raspberry Trick galloped inside.

“Raspberry, I’m so glad you’re here. Do you have any idea what is happening?” Nockle said.

But Raspberry Trick was much too busy to answer. He grabbed the ancient chainmail hauberk that hung on the wall as decoration, slipped it on, and headed towards the bow rack. It was locked.

“Nockle! Get over here and open the damn rack!”

For a moment, Nockle Stringer stood aghast. “But… what are you going to do?”

Raspberry shot her a look, then banged with his hooves on the rack. “Fight, Nockle. I’m going to fight. Now come on! Open the latch!”

His panicky voice was not a question, but a command. Flabbergasted, Nockle Stringer walked over to the rack, fumbled for the keys, and opened it. “Raspberry, don’t do any stupid things, please. I don’t want to lose you.”

But Nockle’s words reached only deaf ears. Feverishly, Raspberry Trick reached for a compound bow, attached a scope to it, and slung a quiver of black, freshly sharpened arrows over his shoulder.

“Raspberry, please!” Nockle felt her knees wobble. She almost fell down, but then the strong wing of Raspberry Trick kept her from falling, as he stopped. He looked into Nockle’s eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, and pecked Nockle on her muzzle. “I will come back.”

There was nothing more Nockle could do or say; Raspberry Trick was already gone.

“And so we meet on the battlefield,” Chrysalis said, as she saw Celestia and Luna approaching. As they reached her, they stopped and hung in mid-air at the same height as she.

“Equestria shall never come under Changeling rule,” Princess Luna said.

Chrysalis scoffed. “And what do I need to prove my point, then? A million more changelings? That can be arranged.”

Indeed, the portal hadn’t closed yet. The changelings were still pouring in.

Celestia took a moment to observe the situation. Needless to say, they were hopefully outnumbered. For every Canterlot citizen there were a dozen changelings. But the changeling army could be dealt with later. Chrysalis had to be defeated first.

“With my new and powerful ally, nothing can stop me, not even the princesses themselves!” Chrysalis said, her voice full of wrath. She restrained herself from opening the attack on the princesses—barely. “You claim you are goddesses, divine and immortal and indestructible. Today, Canterlot will witness how wrong that is.” With a few flaps of her wings, she flew higher than the princesses. “The age of ponies is over. The age of the changelings has come!”

And with that, she charged up her horn for a blast, reached back, and launched.

But Celestia and Luna had expected as such, so they swooped over the beam, and split up.

Now it was Celestia’s turn. She charged up, and shot.

Missed. Chrysalis made a looping with a few flaps of her wings. Her eyes darted about, trying to follow the princesses’ movements. She flicked her head. Her horn glowed green, and a wave of green fire traveled through the sky.

The princesses barely managed to avoid that swipe. They had to backpedal, and their distance grew.

Discord, meanwhile, did nothing. He just hovered there, looking through dreary eyes at the battle in the sky.

“Draconequus! Do something!” Chrysalis yelled.

Discord looked up and snapped his claws. Out of thin air, transported there from another world, a few batteries of anti-air missiles appeared. With another snap of his claw, they opened fire.

That was something neither of the princesses expected. In an eyeblink, the sky became filled with explosions and fire and smoke. They had to zigzag and barrel roll and loop through the air, in order to escape the missiles. One missile almost hit Luna, but she changed direction with a wild flap of her wings. Before her, the missile exploded, but the shrapnel bounced off her armor. She recovered her balance, searching for her opponent. She couldn’t spot Chrysalis, but she could see her sister flying beneath her.

“Sister, are you—“

Princess Celestia shot upwards, aiming with her horn for Luna’s heart. Not a second too late, Luna realized whom she was dealing with. She bent her head down, and their horns clashed in midair.

Chrysalis dropped the disguise. Queen and princess were locked together, horn-to-horn.

That gave Princess Celestia an opportunity to fire. As quick as the wind that bore her, she charged a magical lance, and fired it at the changeling queen.

Letting out a shriek of pain, Chrysalis tumbled down the skies. But just as she was about to hit the ground, she fluttered her insectoid wings and rose again, albeit with a steaming hole in her side.

As she reached the proper altitude, Chrysalis wobbled. Her wings lost track of the rhythm. Pain left her mind foggy. She threw a vicious glance at Discord, and yelled in anger and desperation, “Help me!”

Discord turned his head, noticed the injured queen and the gaping, smoking hole she bore, and snapped his claws. A big tube of burn ointment appeared above her, and with another snap of his claws, Discord let the ointment stream out of it.

Before Chrysalis could scream against Discord, the sticky, viscous ointment covered her. Her wings were glued together. She couldn’t move. With a terrifying shriek, she tumbled down the skies.

Celestia and Luna looked for a moment at Discord, wondering on which side he actually stood, and then spiraled downwards.

With a wet splash, Chrysalis fell down. Had Chrysalis had bones, she surely would have broken some. But that didn’t stop her from feeling the pain race through her body. Her vision became cloudy. She couldn’t even see the princesses, as they hovered a pony’s length above her.

In a moment of desperation, driven by an impulse, Queen Chrysalis summoned a magical beam from her horn and waved it around.

But the Princesses were undaunted. Both of them concentrated. The magic swirled around them, absorbing Chrysalis’s ray of dark magic with a protective shield. A few flaps of their wings brought them closer to their enemy. Then they stopped again.

They hesitated. Both Celestia and Luna were not prepared to kill. They never had to. Not even Chrysalis, after she had taken over Canterlot, had killed Celestia and Luna. They both hesitated. They knew that killing was wrong, and that it went against every fiber in their nature. They looked at each other, silently pondering what to do.

That was an opportunity Chrysalis had been waiting for. She saw that she was in big trouble, and despite the pain, she managed to pull an ace out of her sleeve. “FEED, MY CHILDREN,” she shouted. “FEED! THIS IS WHY YOU CAME HERE. FEED UPON EVERY LITTLE PONY’S LOVE. LEAVE NOPONY BEHIND!”

The changeling army, which had stood idly by, heard enough. They buzzed down, aiming for the citizens of Canterlot, ready to feed and destroy.

The cold realization dawned to Celestia and Luna. The army! They had been so absorbed in their battle, that they had forgotten about the army of millions! But there was nothing they could do about that. What could two ponies do against millions and millions of vicious insects? Nothing.

Screams and yells erupted everywhere, as the changelings broke open homes, chased ponies in the streets, and gave in to their lust. Their lust for love. The royal guards marched into the city, which had transformed into a battleground, and tried to hold them up. They fired magical rays of burning energy, hurled spears, or shot bows. But the changelings easily outnumbered them. Soon, the royal guards found their formations breached, their weapons blunted, and their tactics destroyed. Such a savage power went behind the changeling attacks, that even the orderly and disciplined royal guard was defenseless. No, the Canterlot citizens were left to fend for themselves.

One pony was ready for them: Raspberry Trick. He flew around Canterlot from street to street, searching for the fight.

A changeling stood over a poor mare, ready to feed on her love. Raspberry grabbed his bow, and in one fluent motion, he reared up his hind legs, nocked an arrow, and let it fly.

With a squeal, the changeling received the arrow in his chest. The point stuck out on the other side, and the momentum of the shot made it topple backwards.

Raspberry Trick galloped towards the mare, helped her up, and ushered her into one of the houses.

Another yell made Trick swivel his ears backwards. There was another attacker. He stood, nocked, shot.

And down went the changeling, no match for Trick’s sharp skills with the bow.

A grim smile played at Raspberry Trick’s lips. Strange though as it may sound, he was actually enjoying this. He never had the chance to shoot at moving targets before.

“Boy, is this fun!”

Something clicked inside Trick’s mind. It was a strange feeling, but at the same time, it wasn’t. He had had this feeling before, when he got his cutie mark. He was not just an archer; he was a soldier. Somehow, Trick knew this was what he was meant to do, grisly though as it sounded. He could be either a hunter or a soldier. Trick already knew which of the two he was.

The smile didn’t leave his face, as he flew around, looking for his next target.

There was a stallion, walking slowly backwards as the changelings advanced on him. Soon, he bumped against a wall with his flank. He was cornered and surrounded.

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

Trick’s bow spoke, his arrows sang. The four changelings dropped to the ground. The stallion ran away. Raspberry Trick walked towards the fallen changelings, taking the time to observe them. He nodded to himself. “Nice shots.”

All of the changelings had arrows sticking out of their hearts. All of them had died of the same wounds. Raspberry’s aim was true. He crouched down, yanked the arrows out of the dead changelings, wiped them off their black skin, and put them back in his quiver.

As he launched himself into the air and looked around, he saw another duel being fought. One changeling and one royal guard were in the middle of a savage fight. The changeling showed its teeth, and prepared to jab them into the guard’s neck.

With a whistling sound, Trick’s arrow came in first.

The guard scrambled up from underneath the dead changeling. With eyes full of disbelief, he looked from the body to Raspberry Trick and back. “Wow… nice shot.”

“Thanks,” Trick said, shouldered his bow, and took to the skies again. He heard the raw voice of battling guards, and swooped into the next fight.

Another changeling, this one clad in red armor, was standing before a whole cohort of soldiers. The soldiers lowered their spears and pointed them at the creature. A standoff.

Trick was still filled up with the adrenaline and the thrill of battle. He took no notice of the different appearance of the changeling. For him, it was just another target which needed to die. Simple as that.

With a surge of magic from the changeling’s long, barbed horn, all of the guard’s spears lost their tips and flew away.

Raspberry Trick saw that through the scope of his compound. He paused to blink. Whoa! What was that?!

With a shrug, Trick drew his wing back, and let his arrow fly towards its mark.

In a lightning fast motion, the changeling turned around. Its horn glowed, and it caught the arrow mid-flight in a field of sickly green levitation magic.

“What?!”

That was all Raspberry could think, as the changeling grinned, flipped his arrow over, and launched it back towards the archer.

A train of pain traveled through Raspberry’s leg, through his chest, through the rest of his body. The arrow went straight through him. In the shock that followed the injury, Trick looked around, and saw the arrow sticking out of a tree. It still glowed with the changeling’s magic, and it had totally ignored the chainmail vest. As Trick looked down, he saw the fountain of blood which spurted from the wound, and a green glow. The arrow had hit an artery.

“Good shot,” Trick said. He tried to do a step towards the changeling. His hoof splashed in the growing puddle of blood. Blood loss overcame him. Shock overcame him. Pain overcame him. Raspberry Trick fell to the ground.

Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle and her friends tried to help as much as they could. They stayed together, and helped ponies find their relatives, their homes, or some sort of shelter or safety. All of them had déjà vu moments to the Canterlot wedding, when the armies of the changelings attacked the citizens of Canterlot after the shield had dropped. They once again had to save them.

“Princess Twilight! Princess Twilight!”

Twilight’s ears perked up. There were ponies who needed her. “This way, everypony,” she said, as she galloped towards the source of the cry.

Building Block and Carrey were waving their hooves. Twilight and her friends came to a halt.

“My son! My son!” Carrey cried. “He went to fight the changelings. You have to find him! You have to keep him safe!”

“What does your son look like?” Twilight said, putting a hoof on the mare’s in an attempt to calm her down.

“He’s about this high, with a dark red coat and a black mane,” Building Block said. He looked at all of Twilight’s friends. “Please… please find him.”

“On it,”Rainbow Dash said, and took to the sky.

“No. No!” From up high, Celestia and Luna could easily oversee the horrible battle that raged through all of Canterlot. Everywhere in the city, changelings were feeding, and ponies were fighting or running for their lives. The royal guard was in disarray. They had no idea who was a changeling and who wasn’t. It was a level of chaos Discord would be impressed of.

The draconequus had realized his mistake, and had Chrysalis up and flying again after some quick healing words.

“Look at them, puny princesses,” Chrysalis said, waving her hoof at the chaos below. “This is the new order of things. This is how Canterlot will look like from now on. There’s nothing you can do. The feeding fest has already begun. Soon we will have every single drop of love and friendship in Equestria. My armies will never end!”

Still, there were changelings flying through the portal. What Chrysalis said was true.

Chrysalis let out a cackling laugh, a boast of its own. “I hold your entire city hostage. I hold the entire land of Equestria hostage. Give up now, or my minions will never stop.”

Celestia and Luna realized that Chrysalis was right. No matter how much they tried to fight, the population of Canterlot would suffer nonetheless. They were at an impasse. The princesses thought and waged Chrysalis’s words. They realized that every second thinking was a second in which the changelings could terrorize the Canterlot citizens. But what should they do?

We cannot give up, Luna thought to her sister, using a magical spell to communicate telepathically.

But we have to do something. Celestia thought, we can’t let this happen. This must end as soon as possible.

“I suggest a truce,” Chrysalis said. “You give yourselves to me, and I will stop the changeling attack.” For now…

She will not keep her word, Luna thought.

I know, but our sacrifice might divert Chrysalis’s attention away from the Canterlot ponies. It might give them time, and maybe even respite.

That was what Princess Celestia hoped.

I say we attack her one more time, Luna thought.

With what?

Remember when I turned into Nightmare moon?

They didn’t need to think a single word more. Celestia knew what Luna meant.

“I see a red pony with a bow and arrow.”

“That’s him!” Carrey cried out.

Rainbow Dash looked down. “He’s lying on the ground a few blocks away from here.”

Building Block grumbled a curse. “Then let’s go!”

They moved through the streets, which were swarmed with changelings, looking for somepony to feed on. As they saw Twilight and her friends, they occasionally tried an attack, but soon found that they were outmatched. Rainbow Dash flew around and punched them wherever it hurt. Applejack bucked for all she was worth, launching changelings here and there. And Pinkie Pie let her party cannon do the talking, sending changelings flying with confetti in their mouths.

There, on the streets, lay Raspberry Trick. But there was something else too.

“Don’t worry, everypony, I got this,” Rainbow Dash said, and swooped to meet the changeling that had struck Trick down.

She didn’t see that this changeling was bigger than the others, and had gleaming red armor wrapped around itself. She didn’t see that its horn glowed and that its teeth were twice as long and twice as sharp.

Nevertheless, Rainbow Dash’s hooves connected with the changeling’s jaw, and then rebounded. Rainbow Dash felt as if she had just punched a metal wall. A burst of pain sprouted from her hoof and bloomed through her whole body. She did manage to fly to her friends, but then landed and fell down.

Applejack took Rainbow’s place. Before the changeling had time to recover, she dashed, turned around, and bucked.

It had no effect. Applejack tumbled forwards and rolled back towards her friends. Her hind hooves hurt, and she grimaced in pain. “Argh! Sorry, y’all.”

The changeling had seen enough. It let its horn shine, aimed, and fired.

Everypony rolled, ducked, flew, or jumped aside, and the beam hit empty air.

“Huh?” Twilight said, “changelings can’t do that!”

The changeling turned towards Twilight, and fired a second bolt.

With a flap of her wings, Twilight shot into the air. She had seen that her friends’ attacks had no effect, but they hadn’t tried everything yet. A purple glow illuminated her horn. “Well, I can do magic too, you know?” Twilight said, before she unleashed her spell.

It hit home. The changeling staggered backwards, electricity sizzling through its body. It rocked once, twice, and then fell to the ground, where it lay unmoving.

Raspberry’s mother uttered a cry at seeing her son bloodied and hurt on the ground. “No!” She quickly tore off a piece of fabric from her dress, and pressed it against the grievous wound through the iron rings of the chainmail. She tried to keep the pressure on the wound, but could barely see her own hoof through eyes cloudy with tears. She noticed that the wound had strange, green tendrils wrapped around it. That could mean that Trick was either poisoned, or that the wound was infected. Carrey didn’t dare to guess. Her tears mingled with her son’s blood.

“Stay strong, son. Stay strong,” his father said, keeping Trick’s hoof in his own. It was all he could do.

Raspberry Trick felt as if his head were empty, and could hover away from him. “Mom… Dad…” He could see his parents’ concerned gazes through his cloudy eyes. He felt the piece of clothing against his wound, and the pain that went with it. He saw his mother’s familiar, concerned expression. He felt his father’s massive hoof in his own. Trick was tired. Dead tired. He also saw some other ponies. One of them was Princess Twilight, he realized. The princess herself was here to help him, but Trick also realized that there would soon be no Trick to help. His life drained out of him. He found it strangely ironic that the thing he loved most in life, archery, had proven to be his downfall. He hoped he could still shoot in the afterlife.

Suddenly, Rainbow Dash swooped towards the stallion. She had learned some practical first aid tricks at the Wonderbolt Academy. Now was the time to put them to use. Carrey briefly looked up, as Rainbow Dash ripped another piece of fabric off her dress. Dash zipped towards a tree and back, holding a stick in her mouth. She was going to make a tourniquet, before it was too late.

“Stay strong, son, stay strong,” his father said, over and over again. He cursed and scowled. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He refused to let go.

But Trick couldn’t hear his father’s voice anymore. All voices went strangely quiet. He tried to fill the quiet in with his own voice—one last time. “M-m-mom… D-d-dad…”

Trick’s voice was as soft as a whisper. Trick’s parents listened to their son’s words, knowing that they may well be the last ones they would ever hear from him.

“What is it, son?” his father said. “Tell us.”

Raspberry Trick swallowed. A shiver went over his body. His voice came out of his mouth ragged, deformed by the shock and the hemorrhage and the poison. “I… I’m sorry. I-I-I love you a-a-all. D-d-do you… do you know that?”

Carrey gave up on her efforts to stop the wound from bleeding; her rag was soaked with red. She looked for her son’s eyes, which seemed to look to nowhere. “Yes, my little pony. We know that.”

Raspberry Trick couldn’t feel his head anymore. His neck went limp. His head fell down to the ground.

Princess Celestia knew what Luna meant. With a few flaps of her mighty, snowy white wings, she soared up into the sky. Higher and higher and higher. Princess Luna joined as well. She didn’t leave her sister’s side. She knew she could help her casting the spell.

Chrysalis eyed them suspiciously. What were they going to do? “You cannot best me, ‘gods,’” she said. “I hold your entire city hostage. I only have to give my children the kill command, and then there will be nothing left to save but a dead city. A dead city in a dying land.”

But the princesses were not going to let it come to that. Celestia spiraled ever higher. Then she reached her apex. The princess of the sun spread her wings, looking like a ghostly figure in front of the golden sun. Her eyes shimmered like a solar flare. She looked at her enemy, and closed her eyes.

The magic she drew on came directly from the sun. The golden globe in the sky amplified her magic a thousand times. Celestia felt the warmth of the sun changing to energy, felt the energy changing to magic. She took it all in, bottling it up inside her heart. She kept calling on the magic. Calling, calling, collecting, collecting. The magic surged through her whole body. Her mane waved. Their rainbow colors shone. Finally, Celestia absorbed as much magic as she could, but she wasn’t done yet.

Princess Luna saw what her sister was doing. She called upon her powers as well. Although she was the princess of the moon, she did everything she could to help her sister. Princess Luna summoned magic of her own. Like a silver wave, she sent it directly to Celestia, who absorbed all of it and added the magic of the moon to her magic of the sun.

Upon seeing such a display of power, Queen Chrysalis actually swallowed something. She realized that she was seeing the full might of the two princesses, the two rulers of Equestria. She realized that she was facing her enemy in full swing. Quickly, Chrysalis threw a glance at Discord, who watched it all with dreary eyes. But he wasn’t lethargic; he was waiting.

Celestia was supercharged and ready. She let out a scream, directed the incredible flow of magic towards her horn, focused it at the very tip, and unleashed the same spell she had used on her sister so long ago: the banishing spell.

Time seemed to slow down. The arrow of pure, unbridled alicorn magic soared through the sky, illuminating it like a second sun. She could never outfly this lance of energy; this godly wrath.

Chrysalis knew that she had lost. As she gazed at the incoming magic, her eyes searing, she realized that it was over. She realized that she was about to be turned to ash and rain down upon the castle of Canterlot like fine, black rain. Her children would be queenless, and would be in disarray. Perhaps they would fight on, but most likely they would retreat, find a cold, secluded place to live the rest of their lives in sorrow and defeat. It was over.

Or perhaps not?

At the last second, at the very last second, Discord sprang into action. He summoned magic of his own, focused it into the tips of his claws, and snapped them.

It looked so simple; almost comical. An enormous mirror, the kind you see in funfairs which distort your image and make it look taller or fatter, appeared in front of Chrysalis’s muzzle. Even Chrysalis was surprised. Her vision became obstructed by the mirror. She felt it heat up, becoming like a white hot, iron plate in front of her face. She didn’t dare to move.

Chrysalis couldn’t see how the magic rebounded off the enormous mirror, shooting high into the sky and towards the clouds. She couldn’t see the startled faces of the princesses as they watched their magic fly away.

Higher and higher the magic soared. Until it reached the clouds. The magic didn’t cut through the clouds, but merged with them. The clouds began to shine with a golden glow. Electricity sparkled off of them. They looked kind of gorgeous, but also frightening. They were brimming with power.

And then it happened; thunder and lightning. The clouds, heavy with the magic infused in themselves, drifted lower, closer to Equestrian soil. Lightning struck down in Canterlot. Thunder rattled through the streets. With every lightning bolt that struck, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna winced. Their attack had failed, and instead, it had brought even more ruin to the city of Canterlot.

Twilight, her friends, and Trick’s parents were too busy trying to save the bleeding red pony. They could still see that his eyes twitched underneath his closed eyelids, so he had to be still alive. They all wondered for how long.

Suddenly, all the light grew in intensity, as if the sun lowered itself to the ground. Everypony looked up, seeing the glowing, sizzling thundercloud drift down.

Another lightning bolt escaped from the cloud, followed by a terrible thunderclap. The bolt reached the ground. The lightning struck right in front of everypony, making their eyes want to yell and take cover. Everypony flew everywhere. Some of them hit walls; others trees; and some ponies flew far away from the explosion of light. Strangely enough, the bolt wasn’t hot at all, but it was still as powerful as the fiercest shockwave from the fiercest explosion. For a brief moment, nopony had an idea where they were or why or how. They did their best not to lose consciousness. Luckily, they succeeded at that, and fell to the ground. But it still took them quite a long time to regain their wits.

Twilight Sparkle scrambled to her hooves. She was covered in bruises, and wobbled on her legs. Slowly, she did a few steps forwards. She had to make sure that everypony was okay. After a lot of yelling and searching, she was able to gather them all in the middle of the street. The first thing they did was stop and stare at the glowing cloud high above them. Occasional flashes of lightning spiraled downwards upon Equestrian soil. Slowly, the behemoth moved further and further away from them, and they didn’t stop staring at it until it had completely passed away.

“What in tarnation was that?!” Applejack said.

Twilight looked doubtful. “I don’t know, but I do know that it is gone, and that it is no immediate threat anymore.”

“Twilight, look at that!”

She followed Starlight’s hoof to a ring of ash and crumbled stone in the middle of the street, and at the exact same spot the family of three had just been.

Twilight Sparkle gasped. “Oh my! What happened to them?”

Taking off her hat, Applejack said, “I… I think they’re gone. Struck dead by the lightning.”

A bucket load of questions assaulted Twilight’s mind. “But why aren’t we? We were just as close to that explosion as they were. Why aren’t we… dead?”

But the answers to those questions had to wait. Starlight Glimmer tapped her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Eh, Twilight? We are one pony short.”

Jerking her head around, Twilight started counting heads. Then she saw what Starlight Glimmer was talking about. “Where is Rainbow Dash?”

The princesses had no idea what to think. With another snap of his claws, Discord dispelled the mirror, and Chrysalis, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna came to face each other again. There was an almost awkward silence. One second, two seconds, three seconds, and then Princess Celestia tumbled down the skies.

Princess Luna was tired too, but not as tired as her sister. Where she had only helped in casting the spell, Celestia had been a vessel of pure magical energy. Of course she was drained. Celestia lost consciousness as she fell, but luckily, Luna was there to catch her. She swooped down, stuck out her hooves and caught her sister. Then she slowly hovered over and landed on the roof of Canterlot Castle.

Shaking her head, Queen Chrysalis looked down upon her foes. The tide had turned. Princess Celestia was immobilized, and her sister was dead tired. She could see her panting, her chest heaving. She knew she had won.

She had won!

Her mouth opened, and a burst of cackling laughter filled the air, becoming almost as loud as the raging, magical thunderstorm. The laughter smashed all hope the Canterlot citizens had. The ones that were still on the streets, and the changelings too, looked up at the queen. The changelings took a break terrorizing the Canterlot ponies, allowing them a small chance of escape, which some of them took.

“HAIL QUEEN CHRYSALIS!” they shouted, raising their hooves in the air towards their ruler—the ruler of Equestria.

Chrysalis waited, enjoying every minute of her glorious victory. She cast a glance towards Discord, who looked back and nodded. He had done his job. He had played his part. It was over. The battle was won.

The queen fluttered down towards the two alicorn sisters. Luna was still holding Celestia in her hooves. As soon as she heard the chirring of Chrysalis’s wings, she looked up.

The only thing Queen Chrysalis needed to say to her, was a simple statement.

“I accept your surrender now.”

Intermission: changequestria

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Chrysalis didn’t sit still. Of course the war wasn’t over with the conquering of Canterlot alone. The queen of the changelings continued her campaign and shifted her attention to the stronghold of the other alicorn in Equestria. She headed towards the Crystal Empire. With Discord’s help, the changeling army came upon the Empire swiftly and mercilessly.

The ponies of the Crystal Empire did their best to defend their shining city and their princess, but it was in vain. Just as with the Canterlot guards, they were outnumbered, and spies plagued their ranks and infiltrated their operations. Although Princess Cadence and her husband, Shining Armor, fought hard, neither of them was able to penetrate the dense ranks of changelings and reach the queen, or Discord, for that matter. They were as smart as to hand Flurry Heart over to Sunburst, who took her and hid away somewhere even the prince and princess didn’t know.

What was next? Manehattan was. Thanks to the dense population, there was enough love to energize the whole changeling army for quite a while. They took over the most important targets; harbors, communications, power supplies, and, of course, the governmental buildings. With no alicorn to defend them, the city had been an easy target. There were only a handful of police officers who bode some kind of resistance, but compared to the changeling army, it was nothing. The city was theirs.

In turn, the army rampaged over the other major cities: Vanhoover, Fillydelphia, Baltimare, and Las Pegasus.

But of all the settlements in Equestria, little Ponyville became one of Chrysalis’s main targets. She knew that Twilight Sparkle and her friends lived there, and she was bound to find them. With all the alicorns gone, only they, as bearers of the elements of harmony, could pose a real threat to her and her family. She razed Ponyville. The changelings put it upside down. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, Big Macintosh, and Granny Smith soon found out that the changelings were looking for them and their siblings. Concerned though as they were, they did their best to hide and lay low. The whole town of Ponyville helped them with that in a gesture of kindness that would have made Fluttershy proud.

But of course, the changelings didn’t find Twilight and her friends, because they were somewhere else entirely.

As soon as the battle of Canterlot was over, Twilight Sparkle retreated towards Cloudsdale. Chrysalis’s attention was drawn towards the Crystal Empire and the other major cities, and she didn’t yet know the location of the drifting city. As soon as the leaders of Cloudsdale heard of the attack on Canterlot and some of the other cities, an operation started. Under the command of Twilight Sparkle, Spitfire, and the Wonderbolts, and with the help of all the pegasi in the glorious pegasus capital of Equestria, they moved Cloudsdale from its position north of Ponyville—and dangerously close to Canterlot—to the vast tropical forests of the Mysterious South. The trees there were so high and wild, that they reached towards the clouds. The pegasi lowered Cloudsdale, until it hovered amongst the leaf crowns, hidden from view.

Twilight Sparkle was the last alicorn left, and even though she knew that she couldn’t possibly stand against Chrysalis and her changeling army, she was sure to help Equestria get rid of the cloud.

That horrible, flashing, supercharged cloud didn’t disappear after it drifted away from Canterlot. No, it hovered from one corner of Equestria to another, striking both lightning and fear at ponies who laid eyes upon the monster. It only seemed to grow in size as it traveled further, to the point where it looked almost unstoppable. If Twilight Sparkle did nothing, the entire world of Equestria would be terrorized by the glowing cloud, and all the weather would be nothing but a permanent thunderstorm.

But of course, Twilight Sparkle didn’t do nothing. Even though she was the last alicorn left in freedom, she was still determined to help Equestria wherever she could. Once again, with the help of the Wonderbolts and the best flyers in Cloudsdale, she combated the cloud. They followed the thing across half of Equestria, punching it, bucking it, blowing it away. After weeks of cloud busting, they finally managed to put an end to its reign of terror.

Applejack, Rarity, Starlight Glimmer, and Pinkie Pie returned to Ponyville, to look after their family and friends. Applejack found Sweet Apple Acres still standing, and reunited with her family. With the changelings everywhere, they hid themselves as quickly as they could.

Starlight Glimmer immediately galloped towards the Castle of Friendship, destroyed the changelings defiling it, and managed to free Spike. Of course Spike was concerned about Twilight, but Starlight Glimmer talked him into hiding as well.

“Where’s Twilight? Is she okay?” Spike said.

Starlight slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that we are no use to either her or Equestria if we are captured, or worse…”

Pinkie Pie hid with the Cakes, and Rarity with Sweetie Belle. Nopony came for Scootaloo, as Rainbow Dash was still missing in action. But luckily, she was found by Pinkie Pie, and was quickly brought to safety.

Everypony hid from the terrible changelings, as occasional search parties raced through town, thrashing houses and marketplaces. Village life had become hard—almost impossible. No, most of the village life wasn’t going on in Ponyville, but in the Everfree Forest.

The only place the changelings couldn’t spot them—thanks to the dense foliage—and the only place they didn’t dare to enter—thanks to the strange and often dangerous creatures that the forest housed—became a refuge for most Ponyville citizens. Thanks to the forest’s reputation, no search parties ventured into it, so the changelings had no idea that almost all of the Ponyville citizens retreated towards it. The refugees came, built huts, grew crops, and tried to live their lives as best as the forest allowed them. Although the situation was far from perfect, they were off the scope of the changeling army.

Two of Equestria’s settlements were hidden and cowering, and everypony still free from changeling oppression was hoping that somehow everything would get better. They hoped that ‘somehow’ would be Princess Twilight Sparkle.

The truth was that even the princess of friendship had no idea how to end this invasion, not until one faithful night.

Chapter nine: a mare in the night

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The present, one year after the attack on Canterlot.

Twilight Sparkle was still in the Mysterious South, surrounded by tropical trees and occasional wisps of stray clouds. She was all alone now, mulling over many things. Despite her victory against the glowing cloud, she felt a great loss. She had lost Equestria, she had lost the princesses, she had lost the war—but, most of all, she had lost her friends. They had split up after the attack on Canterlot. Twilight went to Cloudsdale to combat the cloud, and the rest of her friends to Ponyville to find their relatives. She had no idea whether they were safe, or alive…

Suddenly, Twilight heard a rustle, loud enough to break her concentration. It wasn’t the wind. There was no wind today.

She had no idea how far she was from Cloudsdale. She had just flown off to take a moment to herself. She instantly regretted that decision. She knew it was them.

With a hiss and a skitter, the changelings jumped out of the bushes. They locked eyes on their prey. Twilight didn’t hesitate. Fueled by adrenaline, she flapped her wings and took to the skies. Her first instinct was to flee.

Twilight flapped her wings faster and faster, trying to keep ahead of the changelings. But a breeze started blowing. The gust of wind carried the changelings and speeded them forward. Twilight, however, couldn’t use the drafts herself. She was too scared to notice that oddity. Looking back, she saw the four black shapes with gleaming, soulless eyes against the silver of the moon and the mist. She was not going to make it.

Twilight slowed down. She flew backwards now, so she could look at her targets. She bit her lip, forced her mind into concentration, and charged a magical energy arrow.

But it didn’t fire. The spell dispelled itself at the last second. Twilight tried again. And again. It just didn’t work.

A sharp hiss cut through the air and the leaves of the trees. Something heavy landed on Twilight’s back. All the air was knocked out of her lungs. Her wings flattened. The princess of friendship went down.

The leaf-covered earth did nothing to make her fall softer. Twilight screamed, twisting about. She tried to stand up, but her legs didn’t work. Somehow, she could do nothing but watch.

With a thud, the changelings landed in a circle around her. Twilight could look into their blue, pupil-less eyes, and see their hunger. Step by step, the changelings walked towards her. The circle tightened.

“Help! Please! Anypony!” Twilight yelled in desperation, although she knew there was nopony who could help her. Cloudsdale was probably still miles away.

The changelings bared their teeth and hissed. They were looking forward to their dinner. The princess of friendship surely had a lot of love inside of her. She wasn’t called the princess of friendship for nothing.

They were so close. Twilight felt spittle fall upon her muzzle. She looked upwards at the changelings one last time, illuminated in the moonlight, which shone through their pitted hides. Twilight closed her eyes. This was going to hurt. A lot.

Even through her eyelids, Twilight could see what was going on. The moonlight intensified, growing brighter and brighter by the second. The changelings narrowed their eyes against the increasing light, but soon found that they had to close them. The moonlight ripped through their bodies, creating more and more holes in them. A sound like the popping of bubbles echoed through the trees. The changelings recoiled. They no longer wanted to feed; they wanted to fly for their lives.

But Princess Luna didn’t let them.

As the rays of her mighty moonlight evaporated the changelings, and their squeals died away with their bodies and souls, the princess of the night appeared. She was a shadow at first, but then the shadows deepened and darkened, until they took the shape of an alicorn. She looked upon the frightened Twilight, and then stuck out her hoof. “The danger has passed, Twilight Sparkle. Rise and listen, for I have a lot to tell you in the little time we have.”

Twilight Sparkle did what she said. She shook her head, and wiped perspiration off her forehead. Despite the shock of the attack, she forced her heartbeat to calm down. She blinked once, twice, and then met Princess Luna’s gaze. “Is… is this a dream?”

“It is, Princess Twilight,” Luna said, taking Twilight’s hoof. “Come on, let’s go to a somewhat pleasant place.”

They walked deeper into the forest for a minute or two. Then the trees opened up, making way for a little lake. In the middle was an island, on which a beautiful purple flower grew, casting a pulsing, turquoise light right in the middle of the island. Twilight and Luna flew towards the island, and landed on the petals of the overhanging flower. They were more comfortable than any chair Twilight had ever sat on. And so they sat, opposite of each other, in a surreal picture.

“Princess Luna! I cannot believe it. It is really you!” Twilight exclaimed. “Are you okay? Are you free? Did you manage to flee?”

Luna was about to say something, before Twilight interrupted her.

“I am so sorry for everything that happened,” she said, her head hanging low. “We were too busy saving a stallion that we didn’t see you at all. Surely there must have been a terrible battle between you and Queen Chrysalis. Oh!”

Once again, Luna tried to say something, but once again, Twilight was first.

“And where is Princess Celestia? Is she alright? I should have gone to Canterlot Castle and be with you, protecting Canterlot as much as I could. I—“

Princess Luna unfolded a wing, reached out, and patted Twilight Sparkle on the shoulder. “No, you did well, Twilight. You did what you could to protect the citizens of Canterlot from those horrible changelings. And the way you tell me this, you surely must have made a difference for many ponies.”

Twilight didn’t meet the princess’s gaze. “I… I didn’t.” She felt a tear glisten in her eyes as the moonlight glistened on the lake. “The stallion… he… we don’t know what happened. He was hurt… he was so badly hurt. He was bleeding out, and his wound glowed green and looked nasty. But then the lightning struck and… and… He didn’t make it.”

Retracting her wing and looking down to the grass, Luna said, “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

There was a moment of silence. Tears pearled from Twilight’s eyes, as she felt lost in the darkness. The same familiar feeling, the very same feeling that she felt when Fluttershy died, came to her. Even though she had never met that stallion before, Twilight Sparkle cared for every pony in Equestria, and thought that nopony should die like that. Nopony should die in the hooves of his parents.

Even though Princess Luna had to hurry, she fell silent at hearing that somepony that died—because of her and Celestia.

Twilight Sparkle sniffed, and then looked up at Luna. “But… are you and Princess Celestia alright?”

Luna didn’t meet Twilight’s gaze. “I’m afraid we’re not, Twilight,” she said with a sigh. “We have been captured by Queen Chrysalis and taken towards her hive.”

“But… if you’ve been captured, then how did you come here?”

A grim smile found its way to Luna’s muzzle. “We are more powerful than Chrysalis thinks. With the help of my dear sister, I am still able to reach for my spirit form, and inhabit the dreams of other ponies. As the year passed I have seen much of the outside world through the dreams of ponies all around Equestria. What I saw… disturbed me.”

Twilight wasn’t sure she should ask. Still, she asked what was on her mind. “What… what did you see?”

Luna frowned and tried to stare a hole into the petal of the flower. “Fear, worry, desperation, depression, broken spirits and broken hearts. I have seen the state of Equestria through the dreams of the ponies. I have seen how they had to flee or hide from the changelings, who are always hungry. I have seen what this war did to the ponies of Equestria and the land itself. Equestria… is lost.”

“Yes…” Twilight said. “I’ve tried to make a difference, but you’re right. It didn’t matter. Equestria is lost.”

Luna’s head shot up; her eyes met Twilight’s. “What you say is untrue, Twilight Sparkle. You have most certainly made a difference. In the dreams of Spitfire, I saw how you retreated to Cloudsdale, how you rallied the pegasi and followed that glowing cloud. I saw how you destroyed it, and, without even giving yourself an opportunity to rest or calm down, how you inspired hope and opportunity into the hearts of the pegasi, ushering them to hide the entire city of Cloudsdale into the forest. You have saved the lives of many ponies, and made sure they could live their lives in freedom. If you think that those actions didn’t make a difference to Equestria, you are very mistaken.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded. “But… why now? Why are you only able to enter my dreams right now?”

“In fact, I have also entered the dreams of your friends already, and I have given them the same command I will give you.”

“My friends!” Twilight burst out. “They’re alive!” She couldn’t think of a more positive message.

“Indeed they are, Twilight. They are hidden in the Everfree Forest, as are many other Ponyville residents. But, as an answer to your question, I have to say”—Luna paused for a second—“and I am very sorry to say this to you, that we waited to contact you because we didn’t want to interrupt you in your tasks; hiding the city of Cloudsdale and, even more importantly, clearing the glowing cloud.” Luna cast her eyes down. She swallowed, slowly shook her head, and then looked up at Twilight again. “Destroying that cloud had the highest priority, for the cloud possessed a spell that I know all too well.”

“What do you mean?”

As the memory came to her, Luna gritted her teeth. “We tried one more attack on Chrysalis, where my sister used the banishment spell she used on me, to send my darker side to the moon. But Discord deceived us. The spell backfired into the air, where it took refuge in the clouds. That golden cloud was a danger to all of Equestria, as it occasionally unleashed a bolt of energy, bearing the same magic Celestia used in her spell.”

Twilight’s eyes darted about, as she thought and put the pieces of the puzzle together. She remembered how the bolt of lightning had struck the red stallion. And she also remembered that Rainbow Dash was close to the impact, and had disappeared at that exact same moment. But did that mean…

Wide-eyed, Twilight said, “Did the banishing spell in the lightning bolts send ponies to the moon?!”

Princess Luna held up her hooves. “No, no, not at all. Don’t be alarmed, Twilight Sparkle, and allow me to clarify. I have held council with my sister in her dreams, and during those councils, she has explained the spell to me. You see, the spell she cast was not intended to send Chrysalis to the moon, for fear that the stars should somehow find a way of freeing her, as they freed me from my thousand year exile. Instead, this banishing spell was supposed to send Chrysalis to another dimension, to another world, another planet called ‘Earth.’”

“Earth,” Twilight tried out the name. She thought it an odd name for a world. “Earth,” she said again. “So, if I understand all of this correctly, the lightning bolts didn’t kill; they only sent ponies to Earth.”

Luna closed her eyes in shame, and nodded. “The energies in that spell were unbridled and savage. I’m quite certain that it teleported every single pony it touched to a different, random location on Earth.”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight said. “Rainbow Dash disappeared after the lightning struck. She stood close to that red pony, and then she… vanished.”

“No, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “She is alive, on Earth, as are many others who got struck by those magical lightning bolts. And, although it pains me to say this, among them is the new element of kindness.”

Twilight gasped. “What?! But how do you know?”

“I don’t, but my sister does,” Luna answered. “She can sense the new reincarnations of the elements of harmony, as we told you one year ago, on the day we ushered you to look for him or her during your travels. But Celestia had to admit to me that she can no longer feel the presence of the new element. The new element of kindness has disappeared from the face of Equestria.”

The pieces of the puzzle once more clicked into place in Twilight’s mind. “But if he or she isn’t in Equestria anymore, then…”

“Yes,” Luna said. “Then the element must be on earth.”

Twilight looked aghast. Her eyes were wide, and she found herself stuttering. “A-a-are you sure? Isn’t he or she… killed by the changelings?”

Luna shook her head. “No, Twilight. If that were true, then a new element of kindness would have shown itself somewhere in Equestria, and my sister would have been able to sense him or her. But it didn’t, so the element must still be alive, albeit living in another world.”

“But couldn’t he or she have died on earth?” Twilight asked.

“Even then, a new element would have appeared here in Equestria, as the elements come from this dimension.”

Twilight shook her head in disbelief. She received so much information, and so many answers to her questions. As she tried to cut her way through the jungle of tangled facts, presumptions, questions, and answers, one conclusion came into view. “With two of the elements gone, we will never be able to defeat Queen Chrysalis, let alone her army. We will never be able to restore Equestria to how it once was.”

“Without the elements, no,” Luna said. “And that is why, even though we have no right to ask this from you, you have to find the two missing elements; Rainbow Dash, and the new element of kindness.” Luna sighed. “In other words, you and your friends have to go to Earth.”

Twilight stared at the princess of the night. When she saw how much effort it took Luna to ask this from her, she unfolded a wing and laid it on Luna’s shoulder, as she had done to her. “Of course you can ask this from me, Princess Luna. I am the princess of friendship, after all, and it is my duty to keep the elements of harmony safe.” She paused. Then her wing slipped off Luna’s shoulder, as the memory of Fluttershy’s fatal mission forced its way into Twilight’s mind. “And I should have been better at that. I should have known better…”

Another silence followed. One much heavier than the first, as both princesses took a moment to reflect upon their mistakes. Finally, Luna said, “It seems we have both did things that we could have done better, and smarter. We both should have acted differently to prevent the harm and tragedies we unintentionally summoned. My sister and I are both to blame of the glowing cloud, which has grabbed so many innocent ponies and flung them to a strange new world. No words in Equestria can describe how sorry I feel for them. They must be confused and bewildered, and maybe even frightened.”

Princess Luna paused in her speech, and then shook her head and cleared her throat. “Yet now is not the time to grieve or look back. Now it is time to look forward, towards the future of Equestria.” Luna saw that a tear fell down Twilight’s eyes. With the tip of her wing, she brushed it away, then she lifted Twilight’s chin. “You have to make sure Equestria has a bright future, by doing your duty as a princess: finding the elements of harmony and keeping them safe.”

“But… how?” Twilight said with a meek voice, losing herself in the deep blue eyes of the princess of the night. “How in Equestria are we going to get to Earth when the banishing cloud has been destroyed?”

Luna withdrew her wing and frowned in thought, tapping her chin with a hoof. She tried her best to recall what her sister had said to her, although it had been a lot of information. “In Canterlot Castle, there is a secret door,” she began. “It is activated by a hidden panel on the checkered floor of the throne hall. In that room is an object of unimaginable power, older than time itself. Even I do not know much about it, and everything I do know, my sister told me.”

Twilight sat motionless, listening to Luna’s words.

“It is an orb, standing on a pedestal, but there is much more to it than meets the eye. Celestia called it the Orb of Translocation.”

“Orb of Translocation,” Twilight whispered.

Luna nodded, and continued. “My sister found it many eons ago. She told me it is not native to Equestria, but it came from another world, maybe even another dimension. It is closely connected with the world of Earth. So closely connected, that it almost draws you in just by looking at it. It is very powerful.”

“But if it is so powerful,” Twilight said, “then what would Chrysalis do with it once she finds out where it is?”

“As a magical barrier prevents me from entering Queen Chrysalis’s dreams, I have no idea if she already found out about the secret in the castle. Let’s… let’s just hope she hasn’t.”

“Yes… let’s,” Twilight agreed, but swallowed nonetheless. She chased the anxiety away. “But if Chrysalis finding out about the Orb and Earth is such a bad thing, then why did you want to banish her there in the first place?”

“A just question, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “Celestia and I thought that sending her to Earth alone would be a wise idea. Earth is not a dangerous planet, but it is no world for us ponies. Their world is as foreign to us as Yakyakistan is from Ponyville. It is inhabited by humans, who are a mighty race and have conquered their own world. The humans are magnificent creatures, powerful and crafty. If Chrysalis would have been sent to Earth, they would surely best her and detain her as soon as the opportunity arose.”

Twilight nodded. “I understand… and without her changeling army, she wouldn’t be as dangerous as she is now. She would be lost.”

“Most likely, yes,” Luna said with a nod. “Although we couldn’t possibly have predicted what would happen with her on Earth, we did know that she and her army needed to be separated. An army without a queen doesn’t function, and a queen without an army is powerless.”

Twilight Sparkle could well understand the thoughts that drove the royal sisters to cast such an extremely powerful spell. She knew they hadn’t had much choice. If she herself had been in the princesses’ horseshoes, she wouldn’t have done any better. But still there were many questions swirling around each other in Twilight’s head. She returned to the subject of the Orb. “How does Princess Celestia know so much about the Orb? And how does she know for sure that it is connected to Earth? Has she ever used it?”

Princess Luna shook her head. “My sister has been so wise as not to use it one single time. But she has looked at it very, very often. This is why she knows so much about what’s on the other side of the orb, through the reflections in its shiny, shimmering surface, like a reflection in a lake.”

“Is there anything more I need to know about the Orb of Translocation?” Twilight asked. “How does it work?”

“According to my sister, its power is limited, and she estimated that the orb could possibly hold as few as five magical charges. Five times you can use the orb, either to travel towards the other realm, or escape it. When Princess Celestia looked at the orb for the first time, she almost got sucked into it, and I had to bite her tail to save her. But during that first time, she saw a lot. She saw Earth, a green world with lots of plants and lots of water, but also with many busy cities and strange beasts and men.”

Even though Luna had described the humans of Earth as strong and capable conquerors, Twilight’s busy mind still painted a beautiful and detailed picture of the landscape and the society. “That sounds… pleasant,” Twilight said.

“I don’t know if it is; I don’t know if it isn’t,” Luna said. “But what I do know is that you and your friends have a grave task ahead of you. However much I hate to put the burden on your shoulders, and put you and all of your friends in possible danger, you must find the Orb, use it to go to Earth, and bring back the elements of harmony. Only you and your friends can change the course of Equestria’s future.”

That didn’t sound new. Even though Twilight felt anxiety toy with her nerves, she also felt the sparks of determination, which could ignite the flame of action. Her mind started to race, preparing itself for the journey. Twilight was already thinking ahead. “If we use this Orb of Translocation, where will it send us?”

To that, Luna sadly shook her head. “We don’t know. The magic in the Orb is as wild and savage as the banishing spell in the glowing cloud. My sister said it will probably send you to either a source of magic, or a place where the connection between our worlds is weaker than elsewhere. It will most likely send every traveler to a different place, just as the glowing cloud with the banishing spell did. That place with a weakened connection I spoke of will also be your way out. It is the place where the borders of our worlds are thinnest.”

“Then what should I look for?” Twilight asked. The thought of entering a portal without knowing the way out sounded tricky. “How will I spot this weakened border between worlds?”

Princess Luna bit her lip. “That too, we simply don’t know. We think it will be a massive natural landmark. The highest mountain or the deepest ravine perhaps. Or the fastest river or the widest plains. The darkest swamps or the densest forest. It could be something like that. But—” Luna paused, making sure that Twilight paid extra attention to her last words—“it will be close, close enough so that you can recognize it. It won’t be on the other side of the planet, so you don’t have to worry.”

Twilight took a moment to think all of this over. The whole operation sounded terribly simple and terribly complicated at the same time. Twilight looked down at the petal she sat on. A big, big, responsibility balanced on her shoulders. She had to find her friends, find the Orb of Translocation, find the missing elements of harmony, and then find a way home. There was so much to do! It all overwhelmed her. But then she remembered her friends, their faces and their virtues. She didn’t stand alone on this quest. She had help. Even though they were two elements short, Twilight knew that her friends would help her, no matter what. They had her back. They could fix this. They could fix Equestria’s future—together.

Twilight Sparkle looked up at Princess Luna, but could hardly see her. She seemed to dissolve into the moonlight, as if the light itself called for her and dispelled her image. “I have not much time left,” she said. “But before I go, I will say one last thing to you.”

“Yes… I’m listening.” Twilight once more felt tears in her eyes.

“We’re sorry, and good luck.”

And with that, the princess of the night disappeared, and Twilight Sparkle jolted awake.

Chapter ten: surprise, surprise!

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The very same night she experienced her dream and her conversation with Princess Luna, Twilight Sparkle said goodbye to Spitfire and flew in the direction of Ponyville, using the cover of night.

“You are our leader, and we’re gonna miss you,” Spitfire had said.

Twilight had agreed, but had also explained to her that she didn’t have a choice. “In the end, it will be best for Equestria… I hope.”

They had shaken hooves, and then Twilight took her leave.

All night long she flew through the Equestrian skies, looking over her shoulder, eying the ground suspiciously, looking for possible threats. Her journey towards Ponyville had been everything but a pleasant and relaxed flight.

But she reached Ponyville nonetheless. After flying all night, and with the morning sun already peeking over the horizon in a grey blur, Twilight stood in the middle of town square, and found it deserted.

Thanks to the few ponies that hadn’t yet left Ponyville behind, she learned of the location of the ponies in the Everfree Forest. The ponies of Ponyville were so glad to see the face of their princess, and it broke Twilight’s heart that she had to leave them behind. But of course, she promised them to come back.

And so she arrived at the Everfree settlement. Huts made of branches, twigs, and leaves were scattered all around, and all ponies were busy doing their daily tasks; foraging, working in the fields, sowing, or building. In short, they were surviving as best they could.

Suddenly, Twilight Sparkle saw some pink between the dark green and brown of the forest. But before she could call out, Pinkie zipped to her first.

“Twilight! Twilight! You’re here!” Pinkie exclaimed, holding her in the tightest embrace ever.

Twilight Sparkle wanted to hug her back, but her hooves were pinned beside her barrel by Pinkie’s bear hug. “I’m so glad to see you too, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “Do you know where the others—“

“EVERYPONY! TWILIGHT IS BACK!”

As Pinkie’s yell reverberated through the village and out into the forest, a great commotion arose. Ponies opened their doors, walked towards the center of town, and cast hopeful, relieved, and sometimes even happy glances at Twilight Sparkle. It didn’t take her friends a long time to find her.

Applejack, Rarity, Starlight Glimmer, and Spike pushed through the crowd, and embraced Twilight Sparkle as well.

“We thought we lost you, Twilight,” Rarity said with tears in her eyes.

“Were you able to help the Cloudsdale ponies? Or are they… lost?” Starlight Glimmer asked.

“They are fine,” Twilight said. “We managed to move Cloudsdale to a safer place.”

Pinkie Pie jumped up, and put her hooves to her muzzle. “DID YOU HEAR THAT, EVERYPONY? TWILIGHT SAVED CLOUDSDALE!”

Of course, that did nothing to diminish the mob’s size. If anything, it only grew bigger, and the ponies in it happier.

After she spoke a few quick words of hope to the villagers, Twilight and her friends retreated towards the town hall, which was actually Zecora’s hut. As they stepped inside and stood amongst the vials, pots, and exotic artwork, Twilight noticed something odd. “Where’s Zecora?”

Her friends went strangely silent. “Nopony knows,” Applejack said. “She wasn’t here when we all moved into the Everfree Forest.”

Twilight frowned. “That is strange…”

“We tried to find her, and searched everywhere,” Starlight Glimmer said. “But she has disappeared without a trace.”

Sighing, Twilight thought this over. As much as she wanted to help find her zebra friend, Twilight knew there were other matters that had to be discussed. “I will stay a while to help organize more efficient search parties,” she said. “But first, I have something to tell you. You all might want to make yourselves comfortable, for it is a long story.”

And so Twilight Sparkle told her friends everything Princess Luna had told her in the dream, leaving no detail undiscussed; she knew everything could matter. All the while her friends listened, although Starlight Glimmer sometimes interrupted Twilight and asked for more details, which Twilight unfortunately couldn’t provide. When she was done, she paused and took a few deep breaths. Telling the story was exhausting. She looked into everypony’s eyes, and could read the disbelief off of them. They could never have expected such an astounding story.

Applejack waved her hoof around. “So, let me get this straight. There is a way to fix all of this? There is a way to defeat Chrysalis?”

“Duh, but only if we find the remaining elements,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly. “Have you been paying attention?”

Rarity closed her eyes and shivered. “But then we have to get into Canterlot Castle, the place where Queen Chrysalis sits on the throne.”

“That’s right, everypony. We have to find a way in,” Twilight said.

Spike wanted to put a claw on Rarity’s shoulders to comfort her, but found that he was shaking as well. The thought of entering the castle of Chrysalis herself horrified him. There were a million things that could go wrong, and if they would get caught, Spike couldn’t even begin to imagine what the changelings would do to them. “Twilight…” he said, stepping over to her and grabbing her foreleg. “I’m scared.”

Looking down, Twilight stroked Spike’s spines with her hoof. “You don’t have to be, Spike, because you are not coming along.”

Everypony perked up in surprise.

“I’m not?” Spike said.

“He’s not?” Pinkie mimicked.

“No Spike,” Twilight said. “I want you to stay behind together with Starlight Glimmer, and make sure that this village will stay strong, no matter what happens.”

Starlight looked doubtful. “Are you sure about that, Twilight? I mean, what if something happens to—“

But she was cut short by Twilight’s raised hoof. “I understand that you are very concerned, Starlight, but firstly, we can’t leave this village without some kind of leadership, and secondly, we don’t need you.”

Frowning, Starlight said, “What? What do you mean by that?”

Twilight once again raised her hoof. “Don’t be angry, Starlight, I didn’t mean it that way. The thing is, if we are really going to do a stealth mission of some sorts, it is best to be with as few ponies as possible. We have to get the elements together, and we are the elements.” Twilight paused; her gaze traveled to the ground. “And besides, I don’t want to put any more ponies at risk than is necessary.”

Nodding, Starlight Glimmer understood what Twilight said.

“So it’s sneaking like a slithering rattlesnake then?” Applejack said.

Twilight nodded.

“Very well,” Rarity said, “I shall begin the work immediately.”

Everypony looked at her with frowns on their faces. “Huh? What work?” Twilight said.

“Why the camouflage, of course,” Rarity said. “I am certain I can piece something together from the fabric we collected from Ponyville.”

To that, they actually had to laugh; something they hadn’t done in a long time.

Of course, Twilight Sparkle took a long time to plan out this mission. It was night, and she sat at a table, drawing a map with some charcoal on some parchment, illuminated by a lamp with fireflies in it. Her tongue hung out of her mouth, as she racked her brain, trying to recall how exactly Canterlot Castle looked from the inside. It didn’t take her that much effort to remember it, for she had strode through its halls countless times, and had visited the library more often than Applejack bucked trees. She was scribbling and scribbling, so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice Starlight Glimmer and Spike, until they stood right next to her.

“Um… Twilight,” Spike said.

Twilight perked up. “Oh, Spike, Starlight Glimmer, is everything alright?”

“No it isn’t,” Spike said. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears. He reached up and hugged his friend. “I’m not alright, because you’re leaving.”

Starlight’s eyes also glistened with upcoming tears, but she held them back. “We came to say goodbye, Twilight. We are very worried about you, of course. Hay, the entire village is worried about you. But… I understand. I understand that what you’re about to do has to be done—for Equestria.”

Stroking Spike’s head, while he buried his face in her coat, Twilight said, “I’m glad you see it that way, because I see it that way too. I hate to bring everypony in danger, but…” She paused for a second. “But I will make sure that everypony will be alright, and that nothing bad will happen to anypony. We will get through this, together, from start till finish.”

Spike let go of Twilight for a minute, to look into her eyes. “Do you… Pinkie swear?”

Twilight grinned. “Cross my hooves, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” And she accompanied her words with the familiar gestures.

Spike stepped back towards Starlight Glimmer. “Well. I guess we’d better leave you to your work,” Starlight said. “You’ve got quite a mission ahead of you.” She tried to make her tone playful, but didn’t quite succeed.

“I sure am,” Twilight said, nodding.

Starlight turned around; Spike followed. “If you need some help with the planning, then you know where to find me,” Starlight said.

Twilight Sparkle smiled at her friends. She knew that this might just be the last time she saw them. “Starlight,” she said, when Spike was already out the door.

“Yes?”

Twilight’s voice was a whisper. “If I don’t come back, then… then take care of Spike. Would you do that for me?”

Now Starlight Glimmer lost her battle against the upcoming tears. “I will,” she said with a hoarse voice. “I will.”

As night fell, the ponies gathered together in a shadowed alley. They were all dressed in black silk, allowing them freedom of movement, a camouflage together with the night, and, according to Rarity, a fashionable appearance. Before them lay Canterlot Castle. They could hardly recognize it.

The entire castle was covered with a strange, black substance, pitted with many holes here and there. The once cheerful purple banners were replaced with green ones, bearing a black sigil with blue, insectile wings. A sticky, green goo dripped from the minarets and golden rooftops, making the castle look as if it cried green, viscous tears. Changelings skittered all over the place, climbing the towers and disappearing through the windows, while others flew to and from.

Despite the plan, Twilight Sparkle gulped. A million things could go wrong, but she had done her best to eliminate as many risks as she could. With her knowledge of the castle, she had already mapped out the best route through the halls and chambers. Briefly, Twilight Sparkle got a flashback. A flashback to the time where she miserably failed at sneaking into Canterlot Castle, determined as she was to stop time with one of Starswirl’s spells. It had ended in much awkwardness. She hoped that she would do better this time.

Nodding to her friends and then looking back, Twilight and her friends made their first move. They trotted over the open road towards some bushes and trees which served as a little garden. So far so good; no changeling had spotted them. Twilight silently thanked them that they had no searchlights or something like that.

They jumped over the ring of bushes. The grass muffled their hoofsteps as they neared. They were heading towards a window. In fact, it was the very same window Twilight had used when she tried sneaking into the castle on that strange Monday. Twilight looked back to check on her friends. She could read the anxiety on their faces. Only Pinkie Pie seemed to be relaxed; it was all a game to her.

Keeping low to the ground, and using the bushes as cover, they neared the window. But then, they stopped.

“Oh no! How could I have overlooked this?” Twilight said softly.

“What is it sugar cube?” Applejack whispered.

Twilight pointed. There was a small path which snaked through the garden, and ended at the western gate of Canterlot. Slowly, Twilight looked up over the hedges. Two changelings stood guard at the golden gates. But no bushes or trees stood beside the path, so the ponies had no cover.

“If we move in now, they will see us,” Twilight whispered.

“Then how are we possibly going to get in?” Rarity asked, voicing the question that shot into the ponies’ minds.

Twilight covered her head with her hooves. She made a big mistake. “I don’t know.”

But then she shook her head. Now was not the time for desperation. Now was the time for a quick and clever solution. The gears in her head worked. They turned and turned, trying to concoct a genius and inventive plan that would get them past this guard patrol. Twilight’s mind raced with options, but neither of them was useful, safe, or worth the risk of exposure. Twilight Sparkle drew a blank. No clever plan came to her.

Suddenly, Applejack joined Twilight at the hedge. She looked over the edge, eying the guards and estimating the distance. Then, she found a stone near a small pond, tossed it in the air, and bucked hard.

“Hey, what was that?” one of the changelings said, turning his head towards the hedge opposite of Twilight and her friends.

“Better find out,” the other said, and then they marched towards the bush.

There was a moment of bafflement on Twilight’s face. Such a simple plan, and she hadn’t come up with it. Applejack prodded her. “Let’s go, Twi.”

Twilight nodded, and together they climbed through the window. They were in the castle.

It was much darker than they expected. Light came from green lamps hanging here and there on the wall, filled with some fluid that slightly lit up the hall. They were weak lamps, just powerful enough to see where they were putting their hooves. Apparently, the changelings weren’t too fond of light.

Twilight looked left, then right, and then concluded that the coast was clear. “Come on, everypony,” she said. “We have to go to the left now.”

The throne hall was a few corners away. The ponies moved as silently as they could, which was easy, because the thick carpet muffled their hoofsteps as much as the grass had done. The halls they were sneaking through now made up the outer ring of Canterlot Castle. There wasn’t much there, except for some meeting halls and storage rooms. Twilight thought that this would be the easiest part of the castle to move through, as there shouldn’t be too many changelings wandering through the outer ring. Twilight soon realized how wrong she was.

At the next corner, Twilight’s ears perked up, and she came to a halt. “Wait!” She listened more intently. Yes, there were hoofsteps coming straight towards them.

The rest of the ponies heard it too. Rarity panicked. “Whatever should we do, Twilight? They will be on us any minute now.”

“Use your magic,” Applejack said. “Turn us invisible or something.”

Twilight flashed a glance at Applejack. “I can’t, not with this many ponies all at the same time.” Then she smiled. “But I do know a trick that will help us.”

Twilight concentrated. She tried to cast the spell as quietly as she could. With some effort, she kept her horn’s glow weak. With more effort, she reduced the amount of sparks and tingling sizzles to a minimum. She panted, and sweat pearled off her brow.

“They’re coming!” Rarity said.

And at that moment, Twilight released her spell.

The entire room had turned upside down. The ponies were standing on the ceiling, looking at each other with bewildered gazes (except for Twilight). Applejack thought she felt a bit nauseated. Their complete perspectives were changed.

Then they looked upwards—or downwards. They spotted six changelings, two of them in red armor. The changelings walked silently underneath them—or above them—until they rounded another corner and disappeared from view. With another burst of magic from Twilight, everything returned to normal.

“What the hay just happened?” Applejack said.

“Reversed gravity spell,” Twilight said with a small, proud smile. “I used it in the Crystal Empire to scale the tower.”

“You mean slide down,” Pinkie said.

Applejack touched her head with her hoof. “I’m confused.”

Despite Applejack’s confusion, they moved on.

The four ponies continued their way through the castle. Twilight made a habit of stopping and listening at every corner. According to Twilight’s mental map, the hall to the throne room should be around the next corner. Twilight stopped, listened, heard nothing, and rounded the corner.

Where she came face to face with about a dozen changeling sentries.

The fact that Twilight couldn’t hear them didn’t mean that it was all clear.

The changelings looked flabbergasted for exactly one second. Unfurling their wings, they charged towards Twilight.

“Run!” Twilight yelled to her friends, and so they did.

They ran blindly through the marble hallways, with the changelings in pursuit. When Twilight looked back, she saw how the changelings were gaining on them. Of course they were faster; they had wings. Twilight’s mind clammed shut as pure panic overwhelmed it. She knew the mission had failed. If they didn’t do anything, a whole castle full of changelings would be on their heels in a matter of minutes.

But they didn’t do nothing. As they rounded a corner, and the changelings briefly lost sight of the ponies, Rarity, surprisingly enough, sprang into action.

“Everypony, stand in front of the curtains!”

The ponies stopped and looked at their friend. Even if they hid behindthe curtains, the changelings would easily spot their brightly colored hooves. And now Rarity was telling them to stand in front of the curtains?

“Go!” Rarity hissed.

The ponies did what they were told. Each of them took place in front of the big, purple curtains.

Rarity’s horn glowed; the changelings rounded the corner…

… And went straight past them. They charged on ahead, and their hoofsteps echoed away through the hallway.

The ponies were too surprised to say something. But they didn’t need to. Looking at their hides and manes and tails, they saw that their color had shifted. Their whole bodies were the exact same purple as the curtains.

As soon as they gathered and caught their breaths, Twilight asked, “What spell was that?”

Rarity waved her hoof. “Why, just a simple color changing spell, darling. I use it all the time to change the color of my fabrics. It goes a lot faster and a lot easier than dying them.”

“Swell,” Applejack said.

“Thank you very much,” Rarity said. “Shall we move on?”

Everypony agreed, and they were on their way again.

Walking back towards the hallway, which was now completely empty, the four little ponies entered the throne hall, slowly and carefully. To their surprise, it was also completely empty. Twilight concluded that their discovery had actually been a good thing, because all of the changelings in this wing of the castle must have heard them and chased them.

If Twilight hadn’t made the map of the castle, she must have thought she was lost. The throne hall looked nothing like it had before. The banners were green and bore the changeling logo, which seemed to glow in the gloomy green light from the lamps. The stained glass windows, normally displaying the feats of the princesses and Twilight and her friends, were overgrown with the slimy goop the changelings produced, and their images were not visible at all.

“This place looks absolutely horrible,” Rarity said, stepping over a pile of green goop.

“It sure could use a broom,” Pinkie said, but then she saw the windows and added, “and maybe a window cleaner as well.”

Twilight turned to her friends. “Focus, everypony! We have to find that hidden panel.” She looked around the room and frowned. “Now, according to Princess Luna, the panel should be at the wall over there.” She pointed to the opposite side of the hall. “So let’s get over there and look around.”

So they did. The four ponies began inspecting the floor tiles and the marble wall, which wasn’t as shiny as it had been before. Once again, it proved to be Rarity who helped her friends out. Thanks to her sharp eyes, she detected a groove in one of the floor tiles. She stepped on it, and, with a slight grinding sound, the wall opened to a little room. As soon as they could look into it, the ponies gasped.

There it was, placed on an ornately carved pedestal; the Orb of Translocation. Immediately, Twilight and Rarity could feel the magical aura the Orb radiated. They felt as if their horns moved them towards the thing. The Orb sucked them in, but Twilight and Rarity resisted. They stood their ground.

“Now that’s quite something,” Applejack said. Even though she was an earth pony, she was able to tell that the Orb possessed powerful magic. Strange vapors, like a thousand mirrors, swirled around in the ball, revealing flickering images of the plane to which it led.

Suddenly, Rarity yelped.

“What’s wrong, Rarity?” Pinkie said.

Rarity’s face twisted into a scowl. “Oh, could we please leave this foul throne hall behind! I felt something drip on me.” She looked behind her to inspect the costume she had sewn together so carefully. “Just look at this. It’s ruined!”

Applejack ignored her, for she had something to ask Twilight. “Hey, Twi?”

With much effort, Twilight managed to pull her gaze away from the Orb of Translocation. “Yes, what is it?”

“Well, I was just thinking, if this is a throne hall, and the center of the castle and all, and this is where the princesses are supposed to be, then where is the—“

A terrified yell came from Rarity, as she found out where the droplet of slime had come from. Looking up, she witnessed the queen of the changelings, skittering over the ceiling like a spider. Chrysalis let go, swooped down, and landed upon the floor tiles, blocking the way towards the throne hall. The tiles cracked and shattered underneath her pitted, black hooves.

“May I thank you for not only bringing yourself, but also your friends right into my hooves, Twilight Sparkle?” Chrysalis said. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say that you were on my side, ha ha!”

She threw her head back and cackled like an insane witch. The ponies watched her, frozen in fear, their hearts racing at the surprise. How long had she been there, observing them? Twilight Sparkle made a mental note that if she would get out of this situation alive, she would watch ceilings more often.

“You are a fool to think that I haven’t yet found out about this orb here,” Chrysalis said, her voice icy, heartless, and cold. “During my time as Cadence, I have roamed the castle, exploring every nook and cranny, knowing that I would someday return, but not disguised. I have seen this new world, and, however vile it looks, I am bound to conquer it as well. Queen Chrysalis, interdimensional regent. How does that sound?”

“Bad,” Pinkie Pie deadpanned.

Chrysalis’s slit-pupil eyes eyed the pink pony for a moment. But then her gaze was once again directed to the leader of the group. “What were you expecting to do in the other world anyway, Twilight Sparkle? The element of kindness is dead, and so should your hopes be. Or is there something I haven’t heard anything about?”

Twilight said nothing. Unfortunately, Chrysalis was a clever creature, and she figured it out herself. “There is another one, isn’t there? And it’s in there.” She waved a wing towards the orb.

Pinkie Pie shook her head. Of course, Chrysalis didn’t believe her lie. She knew she shouldn’t take the pink pony too seriously. “And…” She paused, letting her terrible voice echo through the castle. “I bet that is where your rainbow-maned friend is too.”

“No, no way,” Pinkie said. “Rainbow Dash? I don’t even know a Rainbow Dash. Nopie dopie; never heard of her.”

Applejack rolled her eyes.

“Yes,” Chrysalis said, ending the ‘s’ in a slithering of her tongue. “I know there are six elements of harmony. Minus one is five, yet you are here with four. Hmm… This might get interesting after all…”

Twilight realized that this was exactly what the princesses had been afraid of. Her mouth fell open.

“And you would never go and risk everything just to get one element. Even with another element you would still be too weak. No, the other element is alive as well, isn’t it? Kindness is alive. I should have known about the two lost elements before,” Chrysalis said. “I have already sent spies into the new world. I mean, you should never plunge headfirst into a situation without knowing exactly how things will turn out, now would you?”

Twilight could have facehoofed, because that was exactly what they had done. And she was going to do it again. With a shake of her head, Twilight came back to her senses. “Everypony! GO!” and with that, she bolted for the Orb.

“I don’t think so!” Chrysalis shouted, and jumped.

But Applejack was quicker. She turned around and bucked upwards, hitting the queen straight in the chest, in the soft part of her body. Applejack bucked all the air out of Chrysalis. She fell down mid-flight, stunned.

“Go, y’all!” Applejack yelled. “If we’re gonna go in, might as well go in NOW!”

Rarity jumped on the queen’s back, then onto the pedestal, and said, “Wise words, Applejack,” before she disappeared into the magical object, her essence merging with the magic inside and redirecting to another world.

“Oh! That looks like fun!” Pinkie said. Just like Rarity, she jumped on the queen’s back, but, unlike Rarity, she landed on Chrysalis’s horn, and used it as a diving board. With a somersault, Pinkie jumped into the Orb.

“Come on, Twi!” Applejack yelled. She charged headfirst through the Orb.

Twilight Sparkle waited. She looked at Queen Chrysalis, who answered her stare with one of her own; one much colder and deadlier; a stare full of hate.

“If that world will not destroy you, then I will,” Chrysalis said. “I will destroy you and your friends, so that nothing stands in my way, and my children will have all of Equestria as their playground, forever!”

Twilight took a moment to let those words sink in. If the world will not destroy you? But Twilight had no choice but to go in; her friends had already reached Earth.

“You will see me again, Twilight Sparkle,” Queen Chrysalis said, as she slowly got up to her hooves. “And when you will, you will see the grand Queen of the two worlds before you.” She realized that she could never stop Twilight from entering the orb in time. “Now go! Go and do whatever miserable mission those princesses have sent you on. Don’t worry, I shall follow soon.”

“When we meet again,” Twilight said, inching closer and closer to the Orb, “I will be ready.”

Then, with a pop and a sizzle, Twilight Sparkle stepped through the orb and disappeared from the face of Equestria.

As soon as the swirling bursts of magic faded away, Queen Chrysalis stood up. It took her a moment to catch her breath, but once she finally did, she let loose an awful cry, which echoed through the castle’s hall.

Her highest commander, a massive changeling in blood-red armor, appeared shortly. Discord was off in the Crystal Empire, attending to other necessities. As the changeling scurried towards its queen, Chrysalis silently scolded herself. She should have had him here, then she might have bested the ponies and prevented them from entering the Orb.

“Commander!” Chrysalis said, when the changeling reached the throne. “The elements are alive, all six of them. They escaped through the Orb, and I am going to find them and destroy them.”

“And you want me to take command?” the changeling said.

“Exactly. If anything goes wrong, contact Discord in the Crystal Empire. He knows more about magic and about my long-term plans for Equestria.”

The changeling saluted. “Yes, my queen.”

Then Chrysalis turned around, facing the hidden pedestal with the Orb of Translocation. With a voice as cold as the chill of foreboding, she said, “And now, the game begins.”

Chapter eleven: what a strange, new world

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A dazzlingly bright flash, and the thundering boom of a lightning bolt that struck home, woke Triggerhoof up.

I’m alive! Was the first thought that came to his mind.

A second later, he regretted being alive.

He felt as if his veins had been torn out of his body. Pain overwhelmed him, almost preventing him to think. His vision was still a cloudy green; his wounds hurt badly. Trying to lift a hoof, Triggerhoof soon gave up. With a shock, he realized that he couldn’t even feel his limbs. It was as if he were not really there, that only his mind was awake, and the rest of his body slept. The only muscles he could control were the ones that moved his eyes. And so, he tried to see something.

But he heard something first. As soon as the high-pitched beeping sound left his ears alone and he could hear again, he heard the flapping of wings and the skittering of hooves on concrete.

The changelings had brought backup. He could see them moving all over the place, turning it upside down, looking for enemies. A grey and green blur appeared before his eyes, blocking his view.

“Look, everyone, a pony. I didn’t know there were ponies in this world too. And I think… I think he’s alive,” the changeling said. He prodded Triggerhoof with his hoof.

“Not for long,” another changeling said from somewhere. “Leave him; the poison will get to him soon. We have to find the rest of that strike team, and their base, of course.”

The changeling turned around, and, after giving Triggerhoof a violent kick in the stomach, returned to his comrades.

The pain of that kick sent Trigg gasping for air. He gurgled and let out a few coughs. Blood mixed with poison dribbled on the floor. There he lay, Triggerhoof the soldier. He scolded himself for not being able to do anything, and dying such a useless and pathetic death. He felt his world once again sinking away. He knew that would be the last time.

But something happened that caught his attention. His gaze had turned hazy, and he could no longer identify the individual changelings. They were a grey mist to him. But he wasn’t looking in the mist; he was looking at the colors.

It seemed as if four new colors appeared in the mist. He heard some voices. He saw movement. He saw flashes of light. So many bright flashes lighting up the building and torturing his eyes. Was it just him, or was the grey mist of changelings growing smaller with every flash?

It didn’t matter. His eyelids became heavy again. He thought that he went crazy, that the poison had reached his brains and stirred them up like hot chocolate. His green haze turned to a pink one. It was the last color he saw before that too, slipped away. And the last thing he heard was a high-pitched, squeaky voice saying, “Oh, look, Twilight! I found that archer pony! Wow! He found a really good hiding spot.”

Triggerhoof lived.

He was lying on a moldy old couch, surrounded by colors. Slowly, too slowly for him, his eyesight returned to normal. The colors were strange ponies, standing in a circle around him and eyeing him. Triggerhoof didn’t hesitate. He had to turn the situation into his advantage. In one swift movement, he jumped off the couch, landed on his hind hooves, grabbed the first pony he saw, and held her head in a lock.

“Back off, everybody!” he shouted, keeping a firm grip on Pinkie’s head. “Back off, or I’ll snap it.”

All of the ponies recoiled in shock and surprise. They did a few steps back. Twilight’s horn glowed.

And so they stood, silent, looking in each other’s eyes, waiting until somepony made a move. Trigg assessed the situation, flashing his eyes around. He was in some kind of room; there was a set of stairs on the opposite side of the room. But then his attention shifted to his red hide. With a shock, he saw that he wasn’t wearing his suit and his guns. And of course, he wasn’t wearing his gasmask either. A flame of panic overwhelmed him for a second, causing his grip to weaken. These ponies were crazy, entering Ground Zero without radiation protection. He bit his lip; his eyes darted about.

There!

“You, with the hat,” he said to Applejack, his voice wavering, “grab that suit and mask and those weapons and bring them to me—slowly.”

Pinkie frowned and tried to turn around, but Triggerhoof held her tightly in his grasp. “I think you are the one who snapped, sir.”

Triggerhoof ignored her.

Applejack picked up the suit and mask and guns and laid them down before Trigg’s hooves. “Duck,” he said to Pinkie. Together they ducked, and Triggerhoof picked his gear up with his free hoof.

“Archer, just calm down,” Twilight said. “Let go of Pinkie, please. We are friendly.”

“I don’t know that,” Trigg said, eyeing the stairs at the other side of the room. “Better safe than sorry. Now walk, pink pony.”

Triggerhoof managed to take exactly one step towards the stairs, before he slumped down. He couldn’t feel his leg anymore. Actually, he couldn’t feel his entire body anymore. Pinkie Pie slipped out of his hooves. Looking to the ponies as he crashed down to the ground, he saw the horn of the purple alicorn glowing.

He grunted and yelled, “Dammit! What did you do to me?!”

“Muscle-relaxing spell,” Twilight said. Her face was strict, and she walked towards Triggerhoof to look him in the eyes. “We’re going to try this again, archer.”

And with that, Twilight levitated the dark red pony up and placed him on the couch.

Triggerhoof made a grimace. “Why the fuck do you keep calling me ‘archer?’ You don’t know me!”

Once again, all the ponies came closer to Trigg, although not as close as before. They had seen what he could do, so they kept their distance.

Twilight took the word. “We do know you, archer. We tried to save you after you got hurt by that changeling. I think it was about a year ago. We were there when your mother and father held you in their hooves. You vanished with a flash of the glowing cloud, which sent you to Earth.”

“Prove it!” Trigg spat. “Tell me their names. Hell, tell me my name!”

Rarity let out a snort. She became quite fed up with the stallion’s attitude and the way he cursed. She didn’t like him one bit. The only thing she wanted to know was where Rainbow Dash was. “Oh, could you do us a favor and please calm down? We have a couple of questions to ask you as well. First of all, have you seen a blue pegasus pony with a rainbow mane and tail?”

Suddenly, as if Rarity’s words had struck him right on the muzzle, Triggerhoof stopped giving everypony nasty stares. Instead, his gaze shifted to the roof, and his eyes moved. A memory came to him. During that last moment, that very last moment in Equestria, his parents had tried to save him. His parents plus one strange pony, sky-blue with a rainbow mane and tail.

The others saw that Trigg was thinking, and waited for his answer.

“Yes…” he said, softly, “she was with me too, when Equestria was destroyed.”

Twilight gave Rarity a thankful smile. They seemed to have made some progress. “Rainbow Dash tried to save you too, but we have lost her. She was struck by the lightning bolt, just like you. We believe that she is here, on Earth.”

“She’s dead,” Trigg said.

A gasp went through the group of ponies. “What?” Applejack said, “how can you know?”

Triggerhoof gave her a vicious stare. “Because I saw it with my own fucking eyes, that’s why. I saw how everything died with that glowing cloud. There was lightning and magical fire everywhere. That cloud was pure destruction, killing everyone and everything in its path. It killed my parents too.”

“No, they’re not dead,” Twilight said, “they are on Earth too.”

Triggerhoof gritted his teeth. “I know, and that’s how I know they are dead, just like your friend Rainbow Dash.”

“But… you don’t know that,” Twilight said.

“I got lucky,” Trigg said. Then he scoffed. “I suppose. Have you seen in what world you have been thrown into? This is a fucked-up world with constant war and chaos. You Equestrian ponies wouldn’t survive one hour in this godforsaken wasteland.” He swallowed something away. “My parents were weak and soft-hearted, just like the rest of the Equestrians. That’s how I know they are dead, because they couldn’t have survived longer than a minute. Sixty fucking seconds!”

That was not a very helpful answer, but before Twilight could ask him some more—and before Rarity could correct him on his rudeness—Triggerhoof said, “So no, I don’t know where your rainbow friend is. But if I were you, I’d stop looking altogether. Hunker down, find a group of survivors, and try to live for something in this bloody world. That’s what I did anyway.”

Twilight Sparkle stepped closer and put a hoof on Trigg’s belly. She stroked him a bit, bumping over the scars, as if she wanted to calm him down. It only infuriated him. “How did I come to this place anyway? Where the fuck are we?”

Rarity stepped in. “We will tell you, if you stop swearing.”

For a brief moment, Triggerhoof felt like a schoolcolt. But he wanted information. He wanted to get a clear picture of his situation, to gain a tactical advantage. So he shut up.

Twilight Sparkle looked into the red stallion’s eyes. “We found you on the floor in that building.”

“No, I found you,” Pinkie yelled. “Give me some credit, here.”

Twilight flashed a smile, and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Pinkie found you. And then together we brought you here. I looked you over and removed the poison from your body with a magical spell.”

“Where is here?” Trigg asked.

“Just a few blocks away from that ruined building,” Twilight said. “We’re in a basement.”

Triggerhoof’s eyes wandered off for a moment. He silently scolded himself for his panic attack upon finding out he was on Ground Zero unprotected. They were in a basement. There was earth between them and the radioactive world outside. Although he knew that he could still be exposed to radioactive particles in the air, he also remembered that the area around the Channel Twenty-four building wasn’t a hotspot. His Geiger counter had been relatively silent.

When he looked at the mares around him again, Triggerhoof snorted. “I suppose I should thank you all, then.”

“That would be most polite,” Rarity said.

“You should,” Applejack added.

Gritting his teeth, Trigg said, “Thank you, then.” He eyed Twilight Sparkle. “No could you please get rid of that spell or something? I won’t make a move, as long as you won’t make one either. Let’s call it a ceasefire.”

Even though Twilight had no idea what ‘ceasefire’ meant, she could guess at the meaning. She eyed the red stallion, looking into his deep green eyes, wondering if he spoke the truth.

“I say leave him like this,” Rarity suggested.

Triggerhoof wanted to say something nasty to the white unicorn, but restrained himself. He knew he was not going to walk again if he kept acting like an enemy. Instead, he acted like a neutral country.

Nodding, Twilight Sparkle released the spell, and did a few steps back.

Immediately, Triggerhoof sat up straight, but he did so slowly and carefully. As soon as he sat on the couch, he drew in a deep breath. His lungs felt healthy and clean again. Looking at his shoulder and at his side, he spotted two pairs of new scars, left behind by the changeling’s teeth.

Now the mares took a moment to regard this stallion. Of course they still remembered how he lay on the ground, bleeding, during the changeling attack one year ago. They had tried to save him, and had failed at that. But they saw that this stallion was different. Not only had he cut his mane short, and was he covered with scars, but he also felt different. His eyes didn’t portray his soul at all. He seemed to be wearing a mask, hiding his true identity from strangers by putting a reinforced, iron door before his soul. Finally, as Triggerhoof was done inspecting himself, and the mares were done watching him, Twilight Sparkle took the word. While the others still kept their distance, Twilight Sparkle strode forward and stuck out a hoof. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

Trigg returned the hoofshake. He couldn’t even remember his last hoofshake. “Triggerhoof,” he said.

Rarity wrinkled her nose. “Such a peculiar name.”

“What does it mean?” Applejack asked.

Casting an irritated glance at Applejack, Trigg said, “It means I am a soldier, ready to kill for a cause. Ready to protect the weak to whom I swore an oath, to whom I made a promise.”

Pinkie Pie jumped up and down. “I think your name is very funny, Triggerhoof. I think I should try it out first. Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof! I like the word ‘trigger,’ it sounds funny!”

Trigg frowned at the strange display of the pony he had taken hostage and threatened mere minutes ago. He was wondering whether that pink pony had any idea what she was talking about, and whether she knew what he could have done to her when he held her head in that lock. Trigg smirked towards her. “I guess it is, sometimes.”

“Anyway,” Twilight Sparkle said, “these are my friends.” She pointed towards each of them in turn. “Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack.”

Trigg said nothing.

There was a very awkward silence. Everypony stood still and said nothing. Trigg tried to remember the names. A bit of dust rained down from the ceiling. If there would be any crickets, they would most certainly have chirped.

Pinkie couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Soooooooooooooooooo, where are you from?”

“That’s classified,” Trigg said. “Look, I’m not much of a conversation maker. I know your names, and I know your purpose, and that’s all I need to know and wanna to know.”

“But you don’t know everything,” Applejack said, now also stepping closer to the scarred stallion. She had seen how he had moved with such ease and such strength, and she knew that he could be a powerful ally.

“I don’t care,” Trigg said.

Applejack was flabbergasted. “You don’t care?! But together we can save Equestria!”

“Equestria is dead.”

“No it isn’t,” Applejack said, waving her hooves in the air. “Equestria is still there, only it’s ruled by them changelings.”

“That’s what I meant,” Trigg said with a shrug. “Equestria is dead.”

“But—“

Trigg cut her off. “I have seen with my own eyes how big that army was. I knew that I couldn’t kill every single one of those changelings with my bow and arrow that day.”

“Then why did you shoot them in the first place?” Applejack said.

“To try and help the citizens who couldn’t fight for themselves.”

Applejack looked Trigg straight into his eyes. “And that’s what we’re trying to do now! We’re trying to make everything better.”

Triggerhoof averted his gaze. “Well, I’m sorry to say, but Equestria is no longer my problem. I have sworn my fealty to other people; people who could actually stand a chance against this world. But I have already said too much.”

Snorting, Applejack said, “No you haven’t. The least you can do after we saved your flank is help us out.”

Triggerhoof stood up, walked towards his gear, and started to put it on. “Then what are your battle tactics? What is your strategy to defeat the changeling army and their queen?”

Twilight Sparkle did a few steps closer, but Triggerhoof didn’t meet her gaze; he was too busy getting into his suit. “We believe that the new element of kindness has been sent to this world by the glowing cloud, just as you were sent here. Once we find both Rainbow Dash and the new element of kindness, we should be able to handle the power of the elements, and use it against Chrysalis.”

Trigg shrugged. “Sorry, not interested. As I said, I have other plans.”

Upon seeing that Trigg was gearing up, Twilight said, “Well, you should at least stay here for a day or two. You still have to recover from such a terrible injury.”

Triggerhoof ignored Twilight. He put on his protective suit, slipped his gasmask over his muzzle, and began to strap his weapons on.

“Oh! What are those?” Pinkie Pie asked, pointing at the weapons and eyeing them curiously. “They look like kitchen tools. Maybe a mixer, or a blender?”

“Guns,” Triggerhoof said. But as he saw the blank expression on Pinkie’s face, he clarified. “Things that will keep you alive in this world. They can be your best friend when you stand behind them, with your wing on the trigger, but they can be your worst enemy if you find yourself in front of them, staring into the barrel.”

Pinkie still didn’t understand, but Triggerhoof was not going to say anything more to her. He tightened the belt so the weapons fitted snugly against his barrel. Then he moved towards the stairs. Before he stepped outside, however, he turned towards the mares once more. “Oh, by the way, how did you kill those filthy changelings anyway? We couldn’t get them down with bullets.”

“What’s a bullet?” Pinkie asked. “That word also sounds funny.”

Twilight made her horn light up; a sparkle escaped from the tip. “We used magic against them. I think that is the only way to permanently… eh…”—she looked over at Pinkie—“get rid of them.”

Triggerhoof nodded. “Thanks for the intel. Let me give you some intel back. If you wanna survive out there, I suggest putting on a protective suit and a gasmask against the radiation. Trust me, you will live slightly longer then.”

And with that, Triggerhoof stepped through the door, back to Ground Zero.

Applejack still watched the stairs, as if she expected Trigg to walk right back in, say sorry, and join them on their mission. Of course, that didn’t happen, and only when the thud of the cellar door resounded did Applejack turn around. “Can you believe that stallion?!”

Rarity frowned. “I completely agree, Applejack. He is a horrible pony with horrible manners.”

“After everything we did for him,” Applejack said, “he just leaves like that!”

“Well, we can’t hold him here against his will,” Twilight said with a shrug. “He is free to go wherever he wants. Form what he said, I reckon he is going to his home. Who are we to judge him?”

Pinkie perked up. “Well… he could at least have taken us with him.” She chuckled. “I would really want to see what his bedroom looks like.”

“Probably a collection of heads of his enemies,” Rarity said, sticking out her tongue.

Twilight wanted to bring her friends to order. “Everypony, listen. We will probably never see that stallion again, so—“

“Good riddance,” Rarity said.

—“We have to consider our next move,” Twilight finished, ignoring Rarity’s remark.

Applejack thought for a minute. “Well, I reckon we gotta have to go to a high point, and get a real nice overview of the land. After that, we can see where we wanna go.”

“That’s what I thought,” Twilight said.

Jumping up, Pinkie said, “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go out there and explore the world!” She bounced in the direction of the cellar door, but Twilight stopped her with her magic.

“Wait, Pinkie. I need to cast one more spell before we go outside.”

“Which one?” Rarity asked.

Twilight gestured for her friends to come closer. “It’s a protection spell. If there really is radiation out there, then the spell will protect us from absorbing it.”

“Good idea,” Applejack said.

Closing her eyes, Twilight Sparkle focused her magic. Tendrils of energy snaked around everypony. The tendrils widened, gained a three-dimensional shape, before transforming into bubbles. There was one bubble for every pony. They slowly drifted over to the mares, until they covered them. Then, with a flash, the bubbles merged with their hides, glowed for a second, and then disappeared.

“That should do the trick,” Twilight said.

“Thanks for the glowy bubbles,” Pinkie said, bouncing towards the cellar door for the second time. The others followed.

Once they were outside, the ponies climbed a rusty set of stairs, to reach the top of the apartment building. Higher and higher they climbed. The stairs creaked ominously. But, they made it to the top.

“What in the hay happened to this place?” Applejack whispered, as she gazed out into the distance.

Before them, the little town continued for some more miles. The skeletal remains of houses and other buildings were strewn everywhere. When Twilight looked up, she could see no sun. The sun was obscured by a thick layer of sickly looking, shifting clouds. A soft wind blew, stirring up some dust. The city was absolutely soundless and lifeless, and there was absolutely nopony and nobody anywhere. It looked like a dead city.

The ponies stood like that for a while, all lined up at the edge of the roof. They couldn’t tear their gazes away from the depressing sight in front of them. Beyond the city were fields of brown and grey, almost a desert. Even if they had a direction to go in, they weren’t even sure if they wanted to explore this world any further.

“Reminds me of the rock farm,” Pinkie said, “but without the rocks.”

Rarity silently wished there would be at least a little bit of color on this bleak palette, just to liven things up a bit. There wasn’t any healthy green or shimmering blue or pretty yellow. There was just grey, black, brown, and more grey.

Twilight Sparkle turned her gaze away from her friends. She couldn’t bear it any longer. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what weapons would be able to bring such destruction and ruin upon this entire world. What would they have fought over, that was worth the annihilation of entire cities?

Applejack waited a moment for Twilight to get her bearings. After a minute or two, she walked up to her and asked, “Where are we going, Twi?”

But Twilight had no idea. She didn’t even know where to begin looking for Rainbow Dash. Everything had seemed so simple when Luna had told her about her mission on that little island in the night. But now, facing the somber reality, Twilight realized that this mission was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

And yet she didn’t lose hope. She used her head. “We should head towards a settlement,” she said. “I’m sure if we find some people, and ask around, a new option will present itself to us.”

“Then which direction do we take?” Applejack said.

Twilight turned around; she had made up her mind. “Not south,” she said, “because that is where the changelings came from. We are going north, and hope to find some kind of civilization.”

“Hey!” Pinkie yelled, “maybe we will run into Triggerhoof on the way.”

Turning around, Twilight Sparkle took one more glance at the destroyed city, and said, “Don’t count on it, Pinkie. Don’t count on it.”

Chapter twelve: retrace your steps

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Without his squad, Triggerhoof was able to cover ground much faster.

He flew in the air, scanning the perimeter with his eyes. He knew it had to be somewhere. He had taken a moment to orient himself on his surroundings, and was heading towards the Channel Twenty-four building. He knew the chances were slim, but he somehow hoped to find his squad members there. They couldn’t just be gone like that. Maybe Amanda survived, or Andrei, or Brockheart? He hoped and hoped as he flew.

The Channel Twenty-four building came into view. Swooping down, Triggerhoof had a good view of the battlefield. Changelings were scattered everywhere. They all had holes in their bodies where Twilight’s and Rarity’s magical beams had struck them. But there were also piles of ash, which were probably changelings that hadn’t been so lucky.

Triggerhoof looked everywhere. He searched the building, lifted up the corpses, checked the surroundings, the nearby apartment buildings, the piles of rubble scattered here and there. Nothing.

And that was when Triggerhoof realized that they were gone. His squad, the Heat Seekers, had been wiped out.

Trigg always fancied that they were unstoppable, invincible, invulnerable. He always fancied that they could go through everything, as long as they were together. For him, the Heat Seekers were legendary. He was part of a living legend.

He had been part of a living legend.

They were gone. Brockheart, Simon, Amanda, Andrei; all gone forever. Something within Triggerhoof snapped. He just couldn’t compute. With a few hard flaps of his wings, he landed right on top of the Channel Twenty-four building. He screamed. He screamed for minutes until his voice was hoarse, not only from the screaming, but also from the tears in his eyes. His gasmask clouded.

In his mind, he stood there, Triggerhoof, surrounded by his squad. And they were shooting, shoulder to shoulder, back to back. There were enemies everywhere, but they didn’t care; they just shot. Triggerhoof opened fire on his imaginary enemies. They tried to storm the Heat Seekers, but Triggerhoof knew they wouldn’t succeed. The first wave was communists. Those filthy freedom haters went down before the hail of lead. The bullets tore through their bodies, leaving wounds as red as their ideology. Triggerhoof grinned as he saw the blood flying everywhere, splattering in his face. It felt good, almost like a refreshing spring.

The second wave was raiders. Humanity at its worst, reduced to savages, with only a loose set of laws that favored the strong and punished the weak. Triggerhoof scowled at the sight of them. There they came, dressed in filthy rags or makeshift leather armor. They had guns of the poorest quality, and already Trigg could see some of them jamming. The raiders opened fire, but Trigg wasn’t afraid. None of their guns would be accurate enough to hit him. His guns, on the other hand, were fully-maintained, fixed, and oiled. They were ready to fire, ready to kill. And that was exactly what Triggerhoof did.

The raiders went down, stacking on top of each other until little heaps littered the street. They were like little islands surrounded by a bloody sea. Trigg grinned as the colorful metaphor came to him.

But then, the bullets stopped. Triggerhoof had fired every round he had. His guns went clicking instead of barking. Smoke came from the barrels. He looked at his squad members, but they were gone. He was once again alone.

Did they betray him? Did they flee and hide like cowards? No, they couldn’t do that. They were brave and strong and living legends. But if that were true, then why was Triggerhoof standing alone on the battlefield?

When he turned around, he saw the third wave incoming. They were changelings.

Hundreds of them flew towards him in a straight line. Their mouths were opened, and they showed their long, poisonous teeth and their forked, slithering tongues. They rushed at the pony. Two seconds and they would completely overwhelm him. One second.

“RAAAGH!” Triggerhoof crouched and covered his head with his hooves, ready to die a horrible death.

But of course, nothing happened. The scenes were just in his mind. His mind which denied what had happened.

An alarm rang, bringing the pony back to the here and now. Triggerhoof looked at his digital watch. The numbers flashed. It should be time to change the filter on his gasmask. If he didn’t, the clogged-up old filter wouldn’t protect him from radioactive particles in the air anymore, and they would infest his lungs immediately.

Triggerhoof let the alarm ring for a while. He cried on the dusty rooftop, while his alarm kept beeping. When was the last time he ever cried? Probably when he lay in his parent’s hooves that fateful day one year ago.

He wanted to rip off his gasmask, and let himself die right there and then. At least he would die with his squad, just as a captain went go down with his own sinking ship. The Heat Seekers were Triggerhoof’s ship, and without them, he was adrift at sea. A glowing, radioactive sea.

But his survival instinct told him otherwise. Survival was a part of his organism. With robot-like movements, and without seeing what he was doing, he reached into his pack and fumbled around. In the end, he threw the entire contents of his backpack everywhere. When he finally gathered himself together, he picked himself up and looked through his stuff.

He stood rooted to the ground, as he realized that this was his last filter.

The familiar panic overcame him. His grief was pushed aside in his mind. He had to find a filter—fast.

In a cloud of dust, Triggerhoof took to the air. He made sure to stay low and not enter the green clouds, trying to breathe as little as possible. Fear accompanied him on his way to Crossroads. He raced through the sky, following the exact same route he had taken with the heat seekers towards their demise.

He reached Crossroads in a new record time. He swooped down, crash-landed onto the ground, and headed straight for the reinforced door.

“Anyone! Let me in! It’s me, Trigg!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, while banging on the door. But when he paused to catch his breath, he realized, much to his astonishment, that the door was open.

But that couldn’t be. They never left the door open.

Triggerhoof had no ammunition to shoot. “Let’s do this the old-fashioned way, then,”he said, as he reached back and grabbed his combat knife with his mouth. It had a strap through which he could stick his hoof, so that even a pony was able to wield it. With slow, careful steps, he entered the bunker.

As he closed the door behind him, he threw off his gasmask, so he could see better. He clicked on the flashlight at his side, for everything was dark. That meant that the generator had been turned off. That couldn’t be good.

Leaving the airlock behind, Triggerhoof proceeded towards the staircase—the elevator had no power. Even though he was no expert on stealth missions, he wanted to make sure he saw the enemy before the enemy saw him, especially if all he had to defend himself with was a knife.

He went down and down and down, until he reached the level of the military. The hallways looked clear. Triggerhoof stopped to listen, but he couldn’t hear any footsteps or hoofsteps. He passed the briefing room, the living quarters, the rec room, and ended his sweep at the office of General Johansson.

The door was unlocked and opened to a slit. Triggerhoof went inside.

Of course, Johansson wasn’t there. There were the familiar newspaper clippings and some papers lay here and there on the ground. Triggerhoof knew that something was wrong, because the general’s desk was always tidy and organized. He walked around the desk, and noticed something lying on it. It was a small tape recorder, a bit old-fashioned, but in good condition. There was a tape in it. Triggerhoof pressed the ‘rewind’ button, and then hit ‘play.’

This is General Johansson speaking, and this message is for the Heat Seekers. I have great news to tell you, although it might also upset you. They have found us, finally! The American military has found our little island in the sea.

Johansson’s voice was kind of giddy, as if he had a special surprise to reveal. But it also had an undertone of concern. Triggerhoof couldn’t believe his ears. The military had finally found them, just as General Johansson always wanted! Trigg pressed the recorder to his ear, eager to hear the rest

I guess they must have spotted that glowing sign we always turn on from their helicopters. I know I have always complained about that thing, but, hell, something good has finally come out of it. They landed and entered the bunker. I believe Andrei was on watch that day. Ha! I would have liked to see the look on his face when he realized who it was on the other side of the door.

“That day?” Triggerhoof said to himself. “Then how long had I been out?” He concluded that it must at least have been a couple of days. He shrugged, and continued to listen. Johansson let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

But, obviously, if you all hear this, then it means that we are gone. The government officials ushered me to go and pack up, so they can leave with us as soon as possible. But instead, I’m recording this so that you guys can hear it. I overheard them talking, and they are taking us to their biggest base, which they call ‘Democracity’. Heh, what a name. Their base is situated in the north. I have managed to get the coordinates, which I will dictate now.

Triggerhoof quickly put the recorder down and grabbed some paper and a pen, which he held in his mouth. As Johansson began to dictate the numbers, Triggerhoof wrote them down. When he was done, Trigg pressed his ear against the tape recorder again.

I am… very sorry to lose you. I did realize that going with the government officials meant losing you all, Heat Seekers. It has been a few days since your mission, and I reckon it didn’t quite go as planned. I hope you are all alive and in good health when you find this message. And if not… god, why am I saying this? It’s not as if your spirits can hear this or so. I’m going to say it anyway. If you died during that mission, then I’m sorry. I hope you will rest in peace—you deserve it.

But I’m afraid I have no choice than to go with the American military. They are very… insistent. Nevertheless, if you can hear this, then try to find us using the coordinates. They are always looking for new soldiers, farmers, or scientists.

Another voice was heard somewhere else, but the words it spoke were unintelligible.

I have to go. I hope to see you soon, Heat Seekers. This is General Johansson signing off.

Triggerhoof rewound the tape and listened to it again. Then two more times. While he listened, he thought. Now he had a mission of his own; finding that base and getting in contact with the general. Triggerhoof wanted to be with him. To him, General Johansson had always been like a dad, and after the loss of his entire squad, he needed him; if only to inform him about the battle and just talk about it. What else could he do?

Trigg slipped the tape recorder in his saddlebags, and turned back the way he came. He proceeded towards the armory, got a few fresh clips for his assault rifle, and some drum magazines for his combat shotgun. He also grabbed a GPS system, and all the gasmask filters he could find. Then he went to the kitchen, and took some instant meals and plenty of water.

Walking towards the hallway, Trigg headed for the stairs. He was going to see what medical supplies he could scrounge together from the infirmary. On his way, he passed the office of Doctor Goodman. Trigg paused to take a quick peek. It was empty. Trigg concluded that Doctor Goodman too, had followed the American military.

A bag full of medical supplies later, Triggerhoof was ready to go. He went through the hallway—his hallway—one last time. When he reached the airlock, he grabbed his gasmask, changed the filter, and put it on. He decided to close the heavy iron door. Although Crossroads might be a place fortunate travelers could stumble upon and rest, the last thing Triggerhoof wanted was for raiders or other scum to take possession of his home, just as they did to that other bunker he encountered so many days ago. With a grinding sound, accompanied by the squeak of the massive hinges, the door to Crossroads Bunker closed. Triggerhoof left his house behind.

Chapter thirteen: red, not dead

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Amanda made sure to stay out of reach of their binoculars or scopes. Her scope was more powerful, so she could see everything that happened in the base just fine from where she lay.

The rocky outcropping provided a beautiful overview of the communist compound in the distance. Amanda had stacked some stones so she could hide behind them if necessary, and put her sniper rifle on them.

A grumble in her stomach distracted her for a few seconds. Amanda reached for it. She couldn’t even recall the last time she ate something. It must have been a long time ago. Suddenly, her alarm went off. Time to change the filters. She reached in her pack, and grabbed a filter—her last filter, she realized.

After the battle at the Channel Twenty-four building, Amanda had laid low. She had to process her loss first. Her entire squad had been wiped out by fictional My Little Pony characters. Of course she knew what the changelings were; she had seen them in the television show. The changelings had attacked Canterlot once, with their queen disguised as Twilight’s former foalsitter, Princess Cadance.

As unbelievable as that was, it had happened. Her squad mates were dead. She had wept and wept and wept. For days she had hid and did nothing but think about happy memories of her and the Heat Seekers, and about the changelings who had somehow come from the My Little Pony universe to earth and attack humans.

After days of weeping and thinking and reflecting, Amanda made a move. She had gone back to Crossroads—making sure to stay out of the metro—and discovered the exact same thing Triggerhoof had discovered. Everybody was gone. Gone without a trace. Amanda had been shocked, and cried a long time. She needed to talk to someone, to see some familiar faces and tell them about the attack. But she couldn’t. She had no idea where the entire population of Crossroads had disappeared to, because she didn’t find the tape recorder. Triggerhoof had taken it, but of course, Amanda couldn’t know that.

There had been no blood trails, bullet casings, or other signs of battle, so Amanda figured they hadn’t been slaughtered by raiders. Then why had they left Crossroads in such a hurry? Did they have to flee or run away from some terrible enemy? Had the reds discovered them?

Whatever the reason was, Amanda was alone. She could have stayed at Crossroads, but she knew that staying wasn’t going to bring her friends and comrades back. No, she was determined to go and find them, even if she had to go to the middle of the crater itself. She knew that it was foolish to look for her friends who could be anywhere on the face of Ground Zero, but what else could she do? She had scrounged whatever supplies she could find, but then noticed that there was not a single gasmask filter left. It didn’t matter. She was planning to use the winter anyway, and the tank had its own air filtration system.

And so she had travelled northwards. The ride had been relatively peaceful. She did find some small groups of reds, but they made way for the big tank. Once she was able to spot searchlights lighting up the night, she had stopped. Now the tank was covered underneath a camouflage blanket, and Amanda lay on the hill, with nothing to eat and nothing to breathe through.

She realized the urgency of the situation. Once again, she peered through her scope to observe the compound.

It was obviously built around a bunker, maybe even a missile silo. Missile silos were scattered all about the state, and most of them had been used and now stood empty. General Johansson had figured that if there were reds, they probably would be holed up in those bunkers. He proved to be right.

A scarlet flag bearing a golden hammer and sickle fluttered in the wind from an improvised guard tower. The reds must have scrounged all the metal they could find, and weld it together to form a wall and a walkway. Reds could be seen walking on top of the wall behind a layer of barbed wire. They wore protective suits and gasmasks, and had assault rifles with flashlights on them. There was also a large machinegun at every gate, surrounded by sandbags to create a gunner’s nest. When Amanda looked closer, she saw some strange installations here and there, covered by tarps. But from underneath one stuck the tip of a missile.

Amanda was impressed. Wow! Anti-aircraft missiles.

A soft rumbling, like the sound of a generator, filled the air. Searchlights were turned on. Amanda followed their beams, which caught a large truck and two jeeps.

They have fuel!

Fuel was rare on Ground Zero. At Crossroads, it was the most valuable resource, reserved only for the machines with high priorities. As far as Amanda knew, only the generator in the basement of Crossroads used fuel, and the tank with which she came here. But apparently, the reds had loads of it, and could spare some fuel for trucks and jeeps. That would explain the enormous amount of metal they had used for their base. With trucks, it would be a breeze to transport a huge amount of building materials.

Amanda kept watching the convoy with wide eyes. She had never seen a base as big and well-equipped as this one before. Of course, Johansson had shared theories about how such a base would look, but Amanda never managed to get a clear picture in her head. Not until today. Amanda wondered whether this was the biggest base the reds had in this state. She could hardly imagine bigger bases than this one.

But observing the enemy wasn’t going to fill her stomach, or give her a new gasmask filter.

If only I could find a way in…

Amanda knew she should hide in the Winter, and make use of its air filtration system to preserve her last filter, but her curiosity got the better of her. She just had to watch that convoy go. As she saw that the drivers got out and walked towards the gate, Amanda started fantasizing what the purpose of the convoy was. Were they a scavenge party which had looked for useful parts and materials? Or were they a strike team which had just wiped out an enemy compound to make the perimeter safer?

The drivers and the men on the wall exchanged some words. For a while, nothing was happening, so, just because she was able to, Amanda turned the knob on her scope to zoom in on the persons.

There were two people. One man with a wild beard, which stuck underneath his gasmask, and another man had a very familiar face.

Amanda blinked. Had she seen that correctly? Once again, she peered through her scope, and magnified the scene. Now she had a clear view of the Russian.

She could have yelled, she could have screamed. Amanda let out a soft squeal. “Andrei!”

He’s alive! But how? He’s in enemy hands, but… why aren’t they shooting at him?

So many questions instantly filled Amanda’s head. Questions to which she couldn’t get an answer now. She could see far with her scope, but she couldn’t hear far with it.

Andrei turned his head around, and kept talking to the guard on the wall. Amanda remembered how he ran towards the changeling that was feeding off Simon, but came in too late. She remembered how the changeling had fired a lance of light towards him, while it took a grenade in the stomach from Brockheart. How on earth had Andrei escaped that terrible ray of death? Had the grenade thrown the changeling’s aim off? That was the most likely explanation.

Turning around, Andrei and the other soldiers stepped into their vehicles. The gate opened, and they drove inside.

There was nothing more to see, so Amanda slid off the hill and entered the Winter. As she ate her last ration of food, she kept thinking about Andrei. Her only chance of survival was the food and water and gasmask filters that lay inside the enemy base. She had to find a way in. But first, she wanted to talk to Andrei. She tried to think of a plan as she went to sleep. Thoughts and plans kept her awake at night.

“It is a good day today,” Nikolai said to Andrei, as they walked through the open gate. Nikolai was looking at the dreary cloud cover, which glowed faintly on one side, giving away the position of the shrouded sun.

Andrei scowled. “It is never a good day on Ground Zero.”

Nikolai gave him a nudge. “Ah, Andrei, don’t be so pessimistic,” he said. The man almost skipped over the road leading out of the base. “We got the easiest shift today: the morning recon sweep. Just a quick search over the terrain, and then we’ll be back home, enjoying a game of checkers or so.”

“Woohoo,” Andrei mock-cheered.

Nikolai shrugged. “Well, at least I am in a good mood.” He gestured to the rest of the team. “And I am pretty sure they are too.”

The morning scouting troop was always small, because nothing usually happened during those missions. But the Russians were better safe than sorry, so every morning a small troop of men was tasked with combing out the area and looking for any sign of danger, Americans, and other survivors. There were four of them; Andrei, Nikolai, and two other young men Andrei didn’t know. Nikolai was a real chatterbox, so he had left Andrei no choice but to get to know him better. His beard constantly moved up and down as he spoke. He was a good sniper too, and carried a Dragunov rifle on his shoulder.

The scouting party followed the path and into the outskirts of the city. Soon they were surrounded by the carcasses of buildings, and started walking in formation, to make sure that they could see the danger before the danger could see them. They moved slowly but steadily. The only sound came from their breaths and the wind.

Suddenly, there was movement. One of the buildings, a high tower-like building, swayed and rocked in the wind. There was a big chunk out of its base, and the wind was blowing against it harder. With the screech of bending and breaking metal, part of the structure collapsed, and crashed into another building quite close to the street they were walking on. The strike team hurried to the other side of the road, where they hunkered down and waited for the avalanche to end.

When the sound of the crumbling concrete died, and the dust got carried away by the winds, the squad got their bearings.

“Is everyone ok?” Nikolai said.

“Just dusty,” said one of the young men, brushing the dust off his gasmask.

Nikolai chuckled. “I understand. Well, let’s get the hell out of here before heaven falls on our heads.”

They moved on. The street they were walking on was broad, and definitely used to be a main street or a shopping street or so. They continued to follow it.

Andrei grunted, upon watching his comrades and himself. The white dust of the concrete clung to their protective suits. Andrei wasn’t happy about that.

“We’re like snowmen, eh?” Nikolai said.

Andrei gritted his teeth and barely held back a curse. “Yes, Nikolai. We do.”

“Hey, why so angry?”

“We can be spotted from miles away, with all this fucking dust, Andrei said. “We’re like sitting ducks.”

“Sitting snow-ducks,” Nikolai said. “Don’t be so worried, comrade. As I told you before, nothing ever happens during the morning recon sweep.”

Andrei grumbled. “Never count on the best. Always prepare for the worst.”

But Nikolai was not impressed by Andrei’s gruff tone, and decided that now was a good time for a conversation. “Hey, Andrei, you wanna hear a good story?”

“No.”

“You know our radio operator, Sergei? Well, I do, and he had something very interesting to tell. You know, there is a small compound away to the east. It is our only compound so close to the crater. I believe the crater was once called ‘Aurora City.’” Nikolai paused to look at Andrei, but he showed no interest in his story. Nevertheless, he continued. Strange things have been going on there. According to the radio operator, the compound was attacked by ghosts!”

Andrei shrugged. He marched on ahead, hoping to make Nikolai shut up.

“Ghosts I tell you,” Nikolai said. “They attacked at night. Sergei said he could hear gunfire in the background, and screams—lots of screams. The radio operator told him that they came from the crater! I believe the last thing the radio operator from the border post said was, ‘Go away, you infernal thing!’ Pretty spooky, eh?”

Upon hearing his comrade’s words, Andrei started thinking, and came to his own conclusion. Naturally, Nikolai had one too. “You know what I think, Andrei? I think that, with the detonation of the nuke above Aurora city, we have opened a gate to hell itself.”

Andrei rolled his eyes.

Through his gasmask, Nikolai could see that silent gesture. “No, I mean it. Imagine, we unleash many, many kilotons of force upon the face of the earth, destroy every American in the city, and blast a crater as deep as hell. Heh, then the souls of those Americans will have no trouble finding their way there. I say they are demons or ghosts or spirits from the deceased. What do you think, Andrei?”

Nikolai didn’t expect an answer from his grumpy, stoic ‘friend,’ but, much to his surprise, Andrei actually said something back, if only one word. “Mutants.”

“What’s that?” Nikolai said.

“I said they are mutants, not ghosts.”

Nikolai looked closely at his friend, trying to read his facial expression through the gasmask. He wasn’t sure if Andrei was joking or not. But as he never heard Andrei make jokes, he presumed he was serious. And as a response, naturally, he laughed.

“Haha! Mutants?! Mutants don’t exist, Andrei. It’s not as if a bird flies through irradiated lands and transforms into a dragon. Radiation doesn’t work like that.”

“Fuck you, Nikolai,” Andrei said. “I have seen them with my own eyes. The bastards wiped out our squad.”

But Nikolai kept laughing. “Haha. Or… or a mouse walks into a microwave and comes out as an elephant!”

Andrei tightened his grip on his automatic. Nikolai had been irritating him already, and now he was totally done with him. Nikolai was free to make jokes about whatever he wanted, but not about his squad. The Heat Seekers, however dead they were, deserved the respect they had earned.

In one stride, Andrei reached Nikolai. He grabbed the man by the collar of his protective suit, spun him around, and pinned him to the wall. Andrei’s arm pressed down on his throat. The other two men turned around and looked at the scene, unsure what to do.

Something stung Andrei. He looked down, and saw the light reflecting off the blade of Nikolai’s unsheathed knife.

“Don’t forget who is the leader here on this mission, Andrei,” Nikolai said, stabbing Andrei with his gaze. “Don’t forget who vouched for you when you came here, starving, with no squad or army. I saw your potential to our forces. Please don’t let me regret that decision.”

Andrei let go of Nikolai and stepped back. There was now about a meter between the two Russian soldiers. Still, Nikolai kept his knife aimed at Andrei. That was his fatal mistake.

Wanting to say something, Andrei opened his mouth. But no sound came, as his voice was cut short by a gunshot. And besides, there was no listening ear for whatever Andrei was about to say, because Nikolai no longer had a head.

“Sniper! Take cover!” One of the other two soldiers yelled, springing to the side while the headless body of their commander slumped to the ground.

Andrei too, jumped away from the main road, and into a little alley. They shouldn’t have been on that wide open road for so long. Now, Nikolai had paid the price. And if Andrei wasn’t careful, he might pay the same price.

Another shot. A loud yell, followed by a gurgle. Andrei peeked around the corner, to see one of the young men looking down. Andrei could see the other side of the road through the massive hole in the man’s stomach. The soldier went down.

Pressing his back once again against the wall of his little alley, Andrei’s mind switched into battle mode. He knew that he couldn’t possibly hit a sniper so far away with his clumsy old Kalashnikov, and picking up Nikolai’s sniper rifle meant that he would have to stick his head out in the open. Andrei was left with one option. He had to get closer, but not by running over the main road. Instead, he looked to his right, and began to move further into the alley. If he could find a parallel street which offered more cover, he had a chance at sneaking up to the sniper.

The one remaining soldier, meanwhile, had taken cover behind a sheet of plate metal, which stuck out of a ruined building. But a rifle that could shoot a hole in someone’s belly big enough to make it a window, could damn well shoot through a sheet of metal.

And that was exactly what happened. The bullet tore through the metal, and then straight through the soldier’s heart, before burying itself in the asphalt of the road. He didn’t even scream.

Andrei was on the move. He sidled closer and closer, occasionally taking cover. But he didn’t hear any more shots. Maybe the sniper thought he was dead. Of course, that couldn’t be so, because Andrei knew that the sniper would have seen the entire scene through his scope.

He was already halfway there. Pushing his back to the wall, Andrei allowed himself to catch his breath and let his heart calm down a bit.

But the sniper found him first.

Andrei felt a hand grasp his sleeve. He reacted. He wanted to swing his automatic towards the attacker, and give him a burst of lead in his face. But before he was able to do that, Amanda grabbed his gun and held it in her hand. Their eyes met, but the eyes of Andrei were twice as big as Amanda’s.

“Amanda!”

Amanda let go of his gun, and instead swung her arms around the bald Russian. Their gasmasks brushed against each other as they hugged.

Andrei dropped his gun, and it clattered to the ground. He stepped back, ending the hug, and then looked Amanda over as if he were making sure that she was really alive; that it wasn’t a trick of the mind or a ghost. “Amanda! You’re alive!”

Blinking a few tears away, Amanda said, “I am, and I am so glad that you are too!” If they hadn’t been wearing gasmasks, she would have kissed him.

Despite his usual careless attitude, Andrei couldn’t deny that he was extremely glad to see Amanda. They had saved each other’s backs many times. And besides that, he did care for his fellow squad members. He was just too proud to show it. “Amanda! How the hell did you get out of that battle?”

Amanda sniffed. “I… I ran. I ran and I took cover.”

A frown appeared on Andrei’s face.

“But I thought you were dead,” Amanda said, “I thought there was nothing left to fight for, and… and then a whole army of changelings came at me a-a-and I panicked.”

Grabbing Amanda’s hand in his own, Andrei said, “Let’s consider it a tactical retreat then.”

Amanda nodded.

“I didn’t die because of that energy blast or whatever it was,” Andrei said, “but I should have. I heard the explosion, and the last thing I thought was that Brockheart must have shot a grenade against that filthy mutant.”

“He did,” Amanda said. “He fired a grenade and it hit the changeling straight in the chest.”

Andrei nodded. His mouth twisted in a grim smile. “And that threw off his aim, I guess.”

But then Amanda noticed something. Through the visor of his gasmask, she could see a whole patch of the left side of Andrei’s face was red. “You face! Are you alright?”

Scoffing, Andrei said, “It’s nothing. Just a few pretty burn marks.”

“Alright, if you say so…” Then Amanda continued her barrage of questions, “B-b-but what did you do after the battle? “Why… why are you here? With the reds?”

Andrei shrugged. “Change of heart, I guess,” he said, and accompanied his words with a careless wave of his hand.

“But… how could you do that?! You fought for the Heat Seekers. You fought for Johansson. You fought for America.”

Andrei wanted to spit on the ground, but found that he couldn’t because of his gasmask. “I never fought for anything but food, water, and a place to sleep. And after Johansson sent us on that suicide mission, I didn’t feel like coming under his command again. Besides, I never liked our military organization anyway. It was too small, communication was poor, and our equipment was primitive. Now the reds, on the other hand, have a base, fuel, an enormous army, and food, water, and a roof above my head.”

Amanda tilted her head, but said nothing.

“I mean, what else could I do? With my accent, I would be put against the wall at the first American compound. Here I can move freely, and speak my own language and do my own things. Hell, after this incident, and once I tell them that I killed that sniper, I will be promoted for sure. The reds can offer me so much more than Johansson in that dusty old bunker! Don’t you see that?”

“No.” Amanda shook her head. “I don’t see that.”

Andrei spread his arms and did a step back. “Well, then I’m sorry to say it, but it is as it is.”

There was a very awkward silence, in which both soldiers silently judged each other. In theory, they were enemies now, but of course, Amanda couldn’t possibly call Andrei her enemy—ever. They had fought together, they had saved each other’s lives time and again. It was just that Andrei looked at it all a little more subjectively.

At last, as the thrill of battle left her nerves alone, hunger got the better of Amanda. She slumped through her knees and sat down with her back against the wall.

“Are you ok?” Andrei asked.

Amanda shook her head. “I’m fresh out of food, supplies and filters.”

“You can take some of my filters,” Andrei said, “but for food and water, we have to get inside the base, and there’s no way you’re gonna get in there. As soon as they hear you speak English, they’ll execute you for sure.”

Amanda knew that. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but she had to now. She felt as if she wouldn’t survive another day without something in her stomach. Somehow, someway, she had to get inside that compound. There was no way Andrei could smuggle some food out of the base himself. The officers would immediately question his suspicious behavior, and the guards would see him. But Amanda couldn’t speak Russian at all. She only knew how to say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. And of course, Andrei couldn’t be her translator, because then they would both be exposed within minutes.

“If only I could speak Russian…” Amanda said.

Andrei rubbed the bottom of his gasmask in a thinking gesture.

Then, something clicked into place. However crude and risky the plan was, she had a plan. Amanda looked up at Andrei. She smiled. “Or if only I couldn’t speak at all…”

The guards at the gate proved to be very on edge. As soon as Amanda and Andrei approached, they stopped walking back and forth, and trained their guns on Amanda. They had seen Andrei go out with three other men, and now he was returning with one woman. They knew something very strange had happened.

“Soldier! Explain yourself. Why do you return alone? Where is the rest of the squad?”

Amanda had no idea what they were saying. For all she knew, the Russians were discussing what to do with her. That’s why she couldn’t stop looking with fearful eyes at the soldiers. Her heart raced. If her plan failed, she could be shot there and then.

“They’re dead,” Andrei said.

“How?” the guard asked.

Andrei raised his weapon. “Shot dead by a hidden sniper. But don’t worry, I managed to kill him. He was just a raider, albeit a raider with a very big gun.”

“Then how did you escape?” From the tone of his voice, Amanda could guess that the guards were suspicious of the situation.

Andrei smiled and shrugged. “I guess I’m much smarter than the rest of them.”

The guards discussed something neither Andrei nor Amanda could hear. “We find that very hard to believe, because Nikolai was a fine soldier and a crack shot. Why didn’t he manage to kill the raider with his sniper rifle?”

“He went down first,” Andrei answered. “That sniper couldn’t have picked a better target for his first shot.”

One of the guards gestured towards Amanda. Here we go, she thought. “Who is the woman?”

“A hostage from that raider. I guess he was part of a bigger group, who probably dealt in slaves. She was bound and lying on the floor of his nest. She was wearing this suit and this gasmask. I guess that sniper wanted her for himself.” Andrei looked at Amanda. Behind his gasmask, she could see his wink. Amanda played along. She folded her arms around herself, as if she wanted to protect herself from these strange men.

“Can’t she talk?” the guard said.

Andrei tapped the front of his gasmask, where his mouth was. “Her tongue is cut out by those savages.”

“Is she Russian?” the other guard asked.

“Yes,” Andrei said.

“How do you know that when her tongue is cut out?”

Andrei swallowed. His eyes darted about. That was not a clever answer. He had to come up with something—something creative. Already the guards were looking at each other. Andrei could guess their thoughts.

Amanda thought that the guards weren’t going to let her in because they didn’t believe she was mute. She started to make some gestures, as if she were speaking in sign language. That’s when the answer came to Andrei.

“Russian sign language,” he said. “I know a word or two in sign language, because… because my brother was mute, you see? She signed Russian words to me, and that is how I knew she is Russian.”

The guards exchanged a glance. A silence followed. Amanda knew that this was the decisive moment. She hoped the guards would buy their little theater play, which she and Andrei had rehearsed together. She had left her bullet-proof vest, her sniper rifle, her bags, and everything else that would indicate she was a soldier, behind. She just wore her suit and her mask. Amanda did her best to look as pathetic as she could, but then realized that the guards couldn’t see her facial expression through the mask.

A sudden loud sound filled the air. Amanda jumped. But it wasn’t the sound of a gunshot; it was the sound of the metal lock and hinges, as the gate opened.

“Get inside and go to debriefing,” one of the guards said. “And keep an eye on that woman. She is your responsibility now.”

“Yes sir,” Andrei said.

Amanda still couldn’t believe that they had actually succeeded, even though they walked through the gate. She turned her head towards the guards, and made a little bow as if to say ‘thank you.’ There was another guarded door, but the guards made no move towards Andrei or Amanda. As they stepped through, they immediately entered an iron elevator. With a rattling sound, the thing went down.

They were the only ones in the elevator, so they had a brief moment to talk to each other. “Remember,” Andrei said, “Not one single word. If someone asks you something, you just point to your open mouth.”

“Of course,” Amanda said. That was the essence of their plan, after all.

“Now I have to go the general’s office for debriefing, but you can go wherever you want.”

Amanda’s stomach told her that it wanted to go to the mess hall first. “Let’s meet up in the mess hall when you’re done. I think I will spend a lot of time there anyway.”

Then Andrei proceeded to give her a few directions to the places she needed to be. She tried her best to remember them, but, as Andrei kept describing and describing and describing, she concluded that this bunker had to be very big. And she couldn’t ask for directions.

As the elevator came to a halt, Amanda quickly said, “Thank you, Andrei.”

“Thank me when you get out of here alive,” Andrei said.

The elevator doors opened. Andrei and Amanda got out. Before them there was an open space, filled with a couple of soldiers. They got rid of their suits and gasmasks, and as Amanda did so, she received many questioning glares from the soldiers. But none of them spoke up, to which she was very grateful.

Andrei saluted the soldiers, and then disappeared through a hallway. Now Amanda was on her own.

She tried her best to push her nervousness back as she walked through the corridors. The walls were a monotonous grey, and many cables and tubes ran through iron rings to her right. The entire area was lit by lamps which were fixed in the sides of the walls. To Amanda’s surprise, the ceiling was higher than in Crossroads. Apparently, the builders had made sure that the bunker was somewhat comfortable; high ceilings lessen the feeling of claustrophobia. But of course, that could all be explained by the nature of the bunker. This one was a military bunker, probably with a missile launching area somewhere. It was made to last long after the outside world died. The builders could never have known that their American base was now used by communists, their sworn enemies.

As she passed a hallway with some soldiers sitting on a bench, one of them whistled at her. Amanda jumped at the sound. She had never been more on edge than now. Her nerves were as tense as guitar strings, and her eyes kept shooting around. But Amanda knew that she needed to focus. She needed to act as if she belonged in this bunker, and as if she were part of the Russian army. If she made one mistake, one single mistake, she could never hope to see the outside world again, and this bunker would become her tomb.

A split at the end of the hallway brought Amanda back to the here and now. There were no signs on the concrete wall which told her where to go. She had to consult her memory. Closing her eyes, Amanda tried to recall what Andrei had told her. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide. She couldn’t remember.

The anxiety and fear had overwhelmed Amanda’s mind. She simply couldn’t remember what Andrei had told her. She bit her lip, and looked left and right. Both sides looked identical. The hallway just continued in either direction, and through both of them some soldiers strolled. Oh, how she wished she could ask someone directions now. But she knew that opening her mouth to speak would only bring her into more trouble.

She could have flipped a coin, if she had any. Once again, Amanda looked left, then right, and made a decision. She chose the left hallway.

The hallway ended in a set of stairs, which ran down deeper into the bunker. Amanda saw fewer and fewer soldiers around her, so she could have concluded that she was walking the wrong way. But she didn’t, and walked stubbornly on. She actually felt better with the emptiness of the hallway. The fewer Russians around her, the better.

The hallway seemed endless. But then there came a curve. As Amanda took it, she saw that the hallway ended with a set of iron doors. When she pressed the button, they opened with a hiss. Sudden movement from her left and right startled her. Two Russians stood up abruptly, and wanted to salute. But when they saw that it was not their superior who was entering the room, they relaxed. In fact, they were quite surprised to see a woman entering their area. One of them stepped towards Amanda, and started speaking to her.

“Hello there. May I ask what you are doing here?”

The only word Amanda could understand was ‘hello.’

The soldier waited for an answer, but when he saw that he wasn’t going to get one, he said, “Are you okay? Are you new here?”

“She’s probably lost,” the other soldier said, who was now sitting on a metal folding chair.

Amanda’s eyes flashed from one soldier to the other. What should she do?

“You know, it’s very rude to stay silent when a man asks you something.” He did another step closer. “Did you lose your tongue or something?”

From the irritated tone of the soldier’s voice, Amanda rightly concluded that he wasn’t happy with her staying silent.

Clicking the safety off his gun, the soldier stepped forwards. “Look, if you don’t want to say anything, I will call the corporal, and he is not a very patient man.”

“Listen to him, lady,” the other soldier added. “The corporal is always grumpy. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”

Instinctively, Amanda raised both hands in a gesture that said, ‘I’m not a threat.’

Sighing, the soldier barked, “I have enough of this game. What the fuck do you want?!”

Amanda jolted at the sudden shout. She wanted to get out of here, and go to the mess hall and get food and meet Andrei, but she didn’t know where to go. If only she could ask them directions… Well, maybe she could. Amanda pointed at her open mouth, and hoped that the soldiers knew that she meant ‘food.’

The soldier on the chair laughed. “Ah, there we go! She wants to speak with the prisoner.”

“Then why didn’t she say so in the first place?” the soldier in front of Amanda said to his comrade.

“She must be shy or something. I overheard that the corporal’s wife is quite a bookworm, and, you know, bookworms are always shy and quiet. That’s why they’re bookworms.”

Amanda saw their reactions. She hoped the soldiers understood what she meant.

Turning around, the soldier in front of her shrugged. “Well, if you say so… But I still think it’s rude.” He reached for his belt and grabbed a set of small keys. Then he walked towards one of the many doors that lined the hall. He stopped at the last door, the one farthest away from the entrance. Amanda wasn’t sure if she should follow him, but she did. She had no idea what she had just gotten herself into. Was the mess hall on the other side of that door?

“Take all the time you want,” The soldier said, as he unlocked the door. “It’s not as if something ever happens here. Oh, and be nice to her, however strange she looks. She is going to be executed this evening, so don’t try to upset her unnecessarily. Let’s make her death smooth and peaceful. Just bang on the door if you want us to let you out again.”

Nodding, Amanda stepped inside the cell. Behind her, the door fell into the lock. Amanda turned on her heels, but the soldier was already gone. There was a small slit in the door with some reinforced glass in it. She could see that the soldier walked away from her. Had they thrown her in prison? Had they noticed she wasn’t Russian? She was just about to bang on the door, when a very familiar, raspy voice made her freeze in shock and bafflement.

“What are you doing here, lady?”

Amanda knew that voice. Happiness overcame her, as she turned around and looked at the blue pegasus pony with the rainbow mane and tail. “Rainbow Dash!”

Dash tilted her head and frowned. “Huh? How do you know my name?”

Amanda looked once more out of the little window in the door. She saw that both guards once again sat next to the entrance, way out of earshot. And besides, the walls of the cell were probably soundproof. When she was sure that no one could hear her speaking English, she turned around and crouched down, so her eyes were at the same height as Rainbow’s. “I have seen you on tv, in the My Little Pony television show.”

Rainbow Dash did a step back, and kept her frown on her face. For all she knew, Amanda could be an enemy. “What is a television show?”

And then Amanda realized the dumbness of her words. Of course Rainbow Dash knew nothing about the television show. There were no televisions in Equestria. But if Rainbow Dash didn’t know about the television show, then how did she come to Earth?

When Amanda saw that the pegasus kept stepping backwards, she held out her hands. “No, no, don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a friend.”

Dash looked her in the eyes. “Hmm… well, you do speak my language…”

“Yes, I know your language, and I don’t know Russian. I’m as much a prisoner here as you are.”

Dash’s mistrust lowered a bit. She did a step closer to Amanda. “Well, that’s stupid.”

Amanda chuckled. “Yes, it kind of is.”

That chuckle, that innocent, awkward chuckle, was all the proof Rainbow Dash needed. She saw in that chuckle that Amanda wasn’t here to shout at her or drag her to dark rooms with bright lights and shout at her some more. Through that chuckle, Rainbow Dash knew that Amanda was indeed a friend. Slowly, Dash stepped towards the woman, and placed her hoof in her hand.

“Do you trust me?” Amanda said.

“I… I think so.”

“My name is Amanda.”

“Rainbow Dash.”

They shook hand and hoof. Then Rainbow Dash sat down on her haunches as well, curling her tail beside her. “So, if you’re not one of them, then what are you doing here?”

“I came from far away, and fought for other, friendlier people. The Russians are my enemies too, but I had to come into their base in order to get fresh supplies.”

“So how did you do that?” Rainbow Dash said. “How did you get in without being locked up?”

Once again, Amanda smiled. “I pretended to be mute. Clever, isn’t it?”

Rainbow Dash scratched the back of her mane with a hoof. “Yeah, that is clever. I should have thought of that. When those strange men found me, the moment I opened my mouth and spoke, things only got downhill from there. They threw me in here and shouted. They probably asked me questions, but I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying, and they couldn’t understand me either.”

“Oh my! That must have been horrible,” Amanda said. “I hope they didn’t hurt you.”

There was such concern in Amanda’s voice, that the last bits of mistrust melted away like snow in the sun. Now Rainbow Dash really was convinced that the woman was on her side. For a brief moment, she considered how lucky she was.

“They didn’t beat me,” Rainbow Dash said, “but they handled me harshly. I mean… not that I couldn’t resist them, of course. I didn’t cry. Not once. No way!”

Amanda’s smile only widened. Rainbow Dash was exactly like she had seen her in the show. “So the Russians found you and locked you up here?”

“Not to begin with,” Rainbow said. “When I came into this world, I flew around a lot, looking for other ponies. Of course, I didn’t find anyone. Then somehow I got very sick, but there was a very nice trader who found me and took me underground. She cured me too. When I asked her where the other ponies were, she said she didn’t know. But she gave me a direction to fly in, and said that there should be people called ‘Americans’ somewhere. So I flew in the direction she pointed, and found people. But something tells me they are not the ‘Americans’ she told me about.”

“They’re not,” Amanda said, her face turning grim. “They are Russians, communists. They are the enemies of the Americans. I’m an American, a soldier who fought against them.”

Rainbow Dash looked confused for a moment, but then she nodded in understanding. An enemy of her enemies was her friend.

Smiling again and speaking in her soft voice, Amanda asked, “How in Equestria did you end up here, on earth? Does it have something to do with the changelings?”

Rainbow Dash swished her tail and blinked. “Huh? I don’t know about the changelings. I mean, they attacked Canterlot and all, but I don’t think they sent me to this world. Actually, I have no idea how I ended up here.”

“And neither have I,” Amanda said. “But you mentioned the changelings attacking Canterlot. You mean at the wedding of Princess Cadance and Shining Armor, right? Or do you mean the attack during which Starlight, Trixie, and Discord defeated Queen Chrysalis?”

Once again, Rainbow Dash was baffled by the strange woman’s understanding of the world she came from. But she didn’t ask her anything, for she had the feeling she would probably get only cryptic answers back. “No, they did another attack on Canterlot, and this time, Discord has joined Queen Chrysalis as well.”

Now it was Amanda’s turn to be baffled. Her eyes went wide and she let out a gasp.

And so Rainbow Dash started telling Amanda all about the attack of the changelings, and how she tried to save the red stallion before seeing a terribly white flash, and finding herself on Earth a second later. Amanda listened with an open mouth. She couldn’t believe what Dash told her. She had never seen any episodes in which the changelings and Discord teamed up to take over Canterlot. When she asked how such a thing could possibly happen, Rainbow Dash told her about the death of Fluttershy. She had to pause at that point, because Amanda let a few tears fall. Rainbow Dash swallowed hers away, and continued telling.

“I can’t believe it…” Amanda whispered.

“But it’s true,” Rainbow said.

“But… is there a way to get you back to Equestria?”

“I… I don’t know.” Rainbow’s voice sounded cracked. Amanda could see tears in her eyes as well. “I want to go home. I want to go to my friends. Do you know where they are?”

“No, Rainbow Dash, I’m so sorry.”

Silence descended upon the holding cell. Rainbow Dash fought against tears of desperation, and wiped some away with her hooves. “What are they going to do with me?”

Amanda shook her head. “I don’t know, Rainbow Dash. I really don’t.” She swallowed. “But what I do know is that I will do everything I can to get you out of here. You have my word.”

“Really?”

“Really!”

Rainbow stuck out her hoof, and Amanda bumped it. “You’re a true friend, Amanda.”

“Thank you.”

She stayed for a while longer in the cell, but soon Amanda realized that she had to go. She couldn’t stay in there forever, and she didn’t want to. She banged on the door, and the Russian soldier opened it. Amanda had a lot to say to Andrei when she would meet him. If only she could find out where the damn mess hall was…

Chapter fourteen: a first and a second chance

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“But we have to find a way to help her!”

Amanda and Andrei had found a small munitions stockroom with an iron door. They were alone now, so they could speak freely in English.

Shaking his head, Andrei said, “But I can’t do anything to save your horse. They are going to execute her this evening; the general told me that.”

“There must be something we can do!” Amanda’s voice sounded as desperate as she felt. “They can’t just kill such a harmless, peaceful cartoon character. That’s so wrong!”

“Then what do you want me to do, Amanda?” Andrei said. “They think she is an American spy, because she speaks English. If I vouch for her, I could give away your cover, and I’m sure the general will not be happy with me if I would stand up for her. There simply is no way of avoiding it.”

Amanda folded her hands together. “Please, please, please, Andrei,” she pleaded, “we have to find a way.”

Shrugging, Andrei said, “But why should we save her? Is she that important to you?”

“She’s important in the world she came from,” Amanda answered. “She’s one of six elements of harmony, and… eh…” Amanda tried her best to come up with an easy and fast explanation. “They have special powers. If one of the elements dies, their whole world could be thrown in disarray. Their whole world could end up like this one.”

Andrei mulled over those words. “Well… if you put it that way…” Wrinkles appeared on his scar-covered forehead. “But how has she come from her world into ours anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Amanda said, “but we have to try and free her. We can’t just let them—“

“Everyone! If you want to see the horse, follow me. The execution is going to start!” A voice boomed through the bunker.

“What did he say?” Amanda said, her voice wavering as panic kicked in.

Andrei bit his lip. “Maybe it is best if I don’t translate that for you…”

Amanda had heard enough. With a push of the button, the iron door opened. Soon, she found herself marching along with the soldiers which were heading towards the elevator. The small room at the bottom of the elevator was packed with Russians gearing up, putting on their suits and masks. Some were busily talking to each other. The execution of a cartoon horse truly was something special. The soldiers were bored; they were in the mood to see something special.

Andrei and Amanda feverishly put on their suits as well. Andrei wanted to stay close to Amanda, as he had the feeling that she was going to do something very stupid. Together with a group of eager Russians, they entered the elevator and went up. As the elevator moved, Amanda thought and thought of some way to save Rainbow Dash. But when the elevator reached the top, she hadn’t come up with a plan.

The area outside of the elevator, boxed in between the walls and the towers, could be described as a courtyard. There was a small storage building, a parking area for the trucks and the jeeps, anti-aircraft missiles, and some piles of spare building material. There was also a large group of Russians, eager to see blood.

Amanda was quite small and thin, so she couldn’t see over the heads of the Russians or elbow her way to the front of the crowd. Instead, she grabbed a fuel drum and put it upright, then climbed on top of it. The sight she saw made her want to scream.

There, against a small concrete wall, stood Rainbow Dash. Even though she was blindfolded, Amanda could see how scared she was. Her wings were tied to her barrel, and her ears swiveled around, taking in all the jeers of the soldiers. A line of six soldiers with rifles stood opposite of her, and behind them a couple of bright lamps illuminated the entire scene.

When Amanda looked around, she couldn’t spot Andrei. But when she looked back, she saw that the Russian was pushing his way through the crowd. She had no idea if he had a plan, and she hoped he had, because the only thing that occupied her mind was pure desperation.

Suddenly, the searchlights swiveled upwards. A lone figure stood on the metal rampart, overlooking the crowd. The soldiers threw their fists in the air as a salute. Amanda guessed that the man must be their general. He wore a long trench coat and had a cap with many stars on his head. He looked at the crowd with a content expression on his face. After a minute or two, he raised his hands in the air, telling his soldiers to shut up and listen.

“Today, we witness the execution of the blue pegasus!”

The crowd cheered, a rough chorus of soldiers’ voices.

“She came to us, looking innocent and lost, so we took her in. But then we discovered that her intentions were not of a friendly nature. The horse spoke the language of our enemy, thereby foolishly giving her true identity away. Most certainly she has been sent by the Americans as a spy.”

Amanda listened to the foreign words. Although she had no idea what the general was saying, she listened to his powerful voice. Truly the voice of a leader. If only Amanda had her sniper rifle… She was sure that just one bullet would be enough to take down the whole line of soldiers.

The general paused. All of the soldiers were still silent, and looked spellbound at their leader.

“If we hadn’t found out about her true nature, we would be in big trouble. We would trust the innocent little horse, make use of her, admire her as an asset to our army. But then she would start to look around, to remember our formations, the times when we change the guard, our scavenge missions, our perimeter patrols. In short, she would spy.”

A few soldiers shouted some profanities, but when they received an angry glare from the general, they wisely shut up.

“Yes, and then she would use an ingeniously and cunningly crafted escape plan to run away from us, and straight back to the Americans. We all know what would happen next…”

From where she stood, Amanda could see that Rainbow Dash was trembling. She had turned around towards the direction the voice came from.

“The Americans would know everything, and they would have an advantage over our glorious army. They would attack, and, however bravely we fight, we might just lose that battle. And all thanks to her!” He pointed at Rainbow Dash.

Once again, a roaring string of profanities and curses were flung at Rainbow Dash.

When Amanda looked, she saw that Andrei had made it halfway through the crowd. But somehow, she had the feeling that the general would be done with his speech soon.

“And that is why, charged as she is with treason and spying and lurking with the enemy, that I, General Porfirevich, pronounce the horse guilty of her crimes. Needless to say, she is to be executed as soon as possible.”

The general paused. Amanda felt her heart sink. Was he done yet? Would he proceed to give the kill command?

Andrei was just a few yards away from the front of the crowd.

Turning towards Rainbow Dash, the general said, “Has the horse got any last words?”

Everyone was silent. Rainbow Dash said nothing. Of course she couldn’t understand the general’s question. She turned away from him, and faced the firing squad opposite her.

The general laughed. “That’s what I thought. Very well, the execution shall begin. Soldiers, present arms!”

The six soldiers which made up the firing squad straightened, and kept their weapons at their sides. Amanda saw that. She knew what would come next.

“Take aim!”

The soldiers lowered their rifles. The bolts clicked.

Amanda couldn’t breathe. She looked at Andrei. He was at the front of the crowd now. He made it. There was still hope.

“Fire!” the general yelled.

“Stop!” Andrei yelled.

“Amanda!” Rainbow Dash yelled.

Amanda closed her eyes, as the shots rang.

With Amanda’s name on her lips, Rainbow Dash fell to the ground, all six bullets tearing through her body. The element of loyalty was no more.

Everyone cheered and yelled and screamed and laughed. For the Russians, this had been top quality entertainment, and a welcome respite from the boring days. Only Andrei was silent.

It was a good thing that all the soldiers were so jolly, because the sound of their merrymaking drowned out Amanda’s cries. She lost her balance, and fell off her oil drum upon the ground. There she stayed. She simply couldn’t muster the will to get up. She had made a promise to help Rainbow Dash, to do something, but she hadn’t delivered. Thanks to her idle mind, Rainbow Dash was dead. Amanda buried her head in her hands as she cried and cried and cried. For a moment, everything went black. She didn’t care if the other soldiers could see her crying over the execution of an American spy. She didn’t care about being discovered and probably sealing her own fate. She didn’t care about being trapped in enemy territory. She didn’t care about anything but Rainbow Dash. But she was dead, and there was nopony to care for.

Amanda felt a rough tug on her shoulder. When she looked up, she couldn’t see who it was, for the lenses of her gasmask were cloudy from the tears.

It was Andrei, of course. He ushered her to get back onto her feet. They had to walk somewhere the soldiers couldn’t see them. They made a wide circle until they stood behind the concrete building that housed the elevator. Andrei almost had to drag Amanda. Her knees felt weak. She couldn’t stand. When they were out of view, Andrei let go of the woman, and she slumped down upon the floor.

“Th-th-they killed her, Andrei. They killed her.”

Andrei put his hand upon her shoulder. “I know, Amanda. I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything. To be honest, I… I didn’t even know what I was doing. It all happened so fast.”

Amanda didn’t blame Andrei. He was the only one who actually did something—or tried to do something. No, she only blamed herself. Screw her life. It wasn’t worth it to live in constant shame and regret.

They had no idea how long they had hidden behind the building, Andrei swearing, and Amanda crying. Andrei could hear how the elevator brought the group of Russian soldiers back down into the bunker. To them, the show was over. Andrei cursed their cheer, their empty heads, their desire to see an innocent creature shot to death. He thought twice about this army now, especially their sense of judgement. This wasn’t judgement; this was murder.

The horse couldn’t even understand what they said, for fuck’s sake! She didn’t even know why she was about to get shot! goddammit!

Andrei stomped his boots on the ground, kicked up dust, hit walls with his fists. But none of those actions brought Rainbow Dash back, and they did little to improve the Russian’s mood.

In the end, as Andrei heard the rustle of voices diminish, he realized they had to go back into the bunker, otherwise they would seem suspicious. He tapped Amanda lightly on the shoulder. But when she didn’t respond, he grabbed her by the shoulders and hoisted her up.

“Hey, hey, Amanda, look at me.” He pulled at her gasmask, forcing her head up. “We have to go, or they’ll start asking questions.”

“L-l-let them,” Amanda said. “I-I-I don’t care.”

Andrei wanted to slap her in the face, just to talk some sense into her. But he knew that wasn’t going to help her. Instead, he forced his voice to be gentle. “I know, Amanda, but… eh… Rainbow Dash wouldn’t want you to give up, right? I’m sure, if she is even half as tough as you told me, that she would want you to live and fight and take revenge.”

Amanda looked up into Andrei’s eyes. He was making sense.

“Yes, but not now,” Andrei said. “Now we have to go and lie low. And when the time comes, goddammit, I swear to every fucking god that you will get revenge, even if I have to go into the crater myself.”

As she listened to Andrei’s words, Amanda slowly came back to her senses. The darkness faded to a grey mist, lingering over her mind. She nodded mechanically, and allowed Andrei to take her back towards the elevator. They were the last ones to enter the metal cage. But before Andrei stepped in it with Amanda, he cast a quick glance at the spot where the Russians had murdered Rainbow Dash. The only thing he could see was a wall splattered with blood.

As the elevator went down, Amanda didn’t look at the Russians, but kept gazing at the ground. It was a good thing she did, because all of the soldiers were laughing and smiling. They had seen some fine entertainment today.

Despite her hunger, Amanda couldn’t get herself to eat something. Today, there was meat on the menu, something that was a true rarity. But Amanda’s plate was only filled with vegetables, because she knew where the meat came from. On Ground Zero, nothing should go to waste.

Despite the other soldiers eating and laughing and playing card games, Amanda was and felt alone. Andrei had to go on another scouting mission, so she had time for herself. She thought a lot about what had happened. The image of the bound and blindfolded Rainbow Dash was forever burned into her mind. But what truly broke her heart was the last word Rainbow Dash had said; ‘Amanda.’ Rainbow Dash had counted on her. Even when she knew her chances were slim, she trusted Amanda to do something to help her. Rainbow Dash probably had been comforted by the thought that someone had her back, that someone would get her out of the Russian base, and maybe even help her find her friends. Now, she would never see her friends again—not in this world.

Amanda’s eyes had been bloodshot and red of all the crying. A tear dripped down upon her potatoes. Then another one. Amanda wasn’t sure if she could ever forgive herself. She would never, ever make a promise she didn’t know she could keep. If she made it out of the base.

Thanks to Andrei, Amanda’s chances of getting out alive had increased a lot. During the past few days, she had stolen filters, extra rations of canned food, water, and new equipment. Andrei had helped her not to give up, although she really wanted to. Amanda reckoned that Andrei also felt guilty about the execution of Rainbow Dash, and wanted to make up for it by helping her as best as he could. And now, thanks to him, a large duffle bag filled with everything she needed waited for her underneath her sleeping cot. The only problem was: how was she going to bring it along without anyone noticing it?

Even though it stirred up flames of revulsion in Amanda’s heart, she had been on some short missions with the Russians. She had to make herself useful, after all. Of course she could just sneak away during one of the missions, but then she would still be on her own, and without any supplies. She wouldn’t survive a week without the things in her duffle bag.

So, she waited, and Andrei waited, until an opportunity would present itself. It was a good thing Amanda did, otherwise she would have missed her second chance.

Running footsteps could be heard. A second later, the bald head of Andrei appeared in the doorway. His wide eyes and the sweat on his scarred forehead weren’t sings that eased Amanda’s mind. She dried her tears, and followed Andrei in search for an empty supply room.

Andrei didn’t even wait for the door to close before he spoke to Amanda. “There’s more horses!”

“What?!” Amanda gasped and stared at the Russian soldier. He couldn’t be serious.

“Yes, four of them,” Andrei said. “The patrols encountered them this morning and took them prisoner. They are somewhere in the bunker now, but I don’t know where…”

Amanda took Andrei’s hands in her own. “I know. I know where to go.”

Nodding, Andrei said, “Good, because you and they are going to get the fuck out of this cursed bunker. Today!”

“But, Andrei, I can’t possibly go through the guards with the—“

“There’s a secret escape tunnel,” Andrei said. “I managed to snatch away some papers and maps during the debriefing, when the general turned his back to me.” Andrei grinned. “The fool! But anyway, there is a hidden door somewhere in the missile silo, with a tunnel that leads to, well… somewhere on Ground Zero. I know exactly where that tunnel is. The only thing we need to do is gather your horses.”

“But, where should I go after that?” Amanda asked. “I mean, I don’t want to run the risk of stumbling across another Russian base.”

Andrei pointed his finger in the air. He grinned. “I have been talking with all of the soldiers. You know, just gossiping and picking up rumors. Now, there’s this place, where the reds sometimes go to trade, in order to get things that are hard to come by and difficult to scavenge. You saw the convoys, right? Those travel all the way to the place. But I think, with all the stuff you have, and if you use the Winter, then I think you can make it too.”

“But… what is this place you’re talking about?” Amanda asked. “How will I recognize it?”

“They say it’s a shopping mall,” Andrei said. “It’s an underground shopping mall where people gather, trade, and live in relative safety. They have their own guards, and even the Americans go there to trade, and raiders too. That shopping mall is like a neutral party to everyone, because everyone needs trade to get what he wants.” Andrei jammed his hands into his pockets. “I asked one of the soldiers to draw me a map of the area. I got it for you. Here.”

Andrei handed Amanda a piece of paper with a crude, hand-drawn map. Amanda grabbed it with shaky hands and took a quick peek. In the middle was the Aurora crater, with some American and Russian compounds scattered around it. The shopping mall lay in the northeast.

“It isn’t hard to find,” Andrei said. “The soldiers say that they made a huge, colored, neon sign or something. You just have to look for the lights on the horizon.”

This whole plan overwhelmed Amanda for a few seconds. But she was a soldier. She had been to countless briefings, where countless new operations and missions had been explained to her. This wasn’t any different. She had a second chance now. Even though Amanda knew that she couldn’t possibly bring Rainbow Dash back to life, she could damn well make sure that these four ponies would make it out. “Which ponies did you see?” But then Amanda realized that Andrei had never seen the My Little Pony television show. “I mean… what colors were they?”

Andrei scratched his stubbled chin for a few seconds. “One was orange, the other one purple, then there was a white one, and a pink one.”

“Applejack, Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie,”Amanda concluded.

“I don’t give a fuck about their names,” Andrei said, “I give a fuck about their lives, and yours too.”

Amanda swallowed something away.

“I heard they are going to be executed as well, this evening.” Andrei paused to check his watch. “We don’t have long. Let’s go grab your stuff and head to wherever they’ve put them.”

So they did. After a quick trip to the women sleeping quarters, Amanda led the way towards the holding cells. They entered a part of the bunker where Andrei had never been before. He always thought that is was used for storage. He was kind of right.

They reached the door. Amanda pressed the button.

Once again, two soldiers flanked the door. They jumped up and saluted. Amanda noticed that they were different from the ones she had encountered. One was burly with short blonde hair, while the other was as bald as Andrei.

Andrei didn’t waste one second. “I’ve got orders from General Porfirevich for the immediate release of the horses.”

That was a very dumb thing to say.

The blonde soldier clicked the bolt of his gun and stepped closer. “I find that very hard to believe, since the general was so fond of executing the blue rainbow one.”

Andrei flashed a glance at Amanda. She read the fear and panic off his face.

The soldiers saw that too. “I say there is something fishy about you two,” the blonde one said, eyeing Andrei and Amanda. “Actually, I would like to have a little chat with you two, preferably with the corporal too.”

“Fuck!” Andrei said through clenched teeth.

“What did you say?”

“Amanda! Get the other one,” Andrei shouted suddenly.

The soldiers didn’t know what Andrei just yelled, which gave him some seconds of opportunity. In one swift motion, Andrei grabbed the barrel of the blonde guard’s gun, while he thrust his other hand against his neck. Blood splattered in Andrei’s face, and the guard let out a gurgle, as the hidden knife shred his windpipe. He went limp. Andrei caught him, spun around, and aimed his rifle towards the other guard, using the first one as a human shield.

It was good that he did, for the other one was getting the better of Amanda. They were wrestling, but the guard proved to be much stronger than Amanda. With one shove, she lay on the ground. As he heard his colleague’s wet gurgle, he left Amanda alone, turned around, and fired his automatic.

Andrei let his gun bark. The other guard had no human shield. He went down.

Dropping the body of the first guard, Andrei jumped towards Amanda, and helped her up. “Are you okay?”

Amanda wiped some blood away from the corner of her mouth. “I’m okay.”

“Get the keys. I’ll get the guns. We don’t have much time. These hallways are very good at echoing.”

“Roger.” Amanda ripped the keys off the guard’s belt, and ran towards the doors. Looking through the little glass spyholes, she found the right one, jammed the key in the lock, and opened it.

The ponies, who had tried to look through the spyhole themselves, tumbled backwards and ended up as one multi-colored heap.

“What in the hay—“ Applejack began to say, but Amanda cut her off.

“We don’t have time. My name is Amanda. I’m a friend. I’m here to save you.”

Applejack wanted to ask another question, but Twilight stepped in between. “Let’s escape first, and ask questions later,” she said.

“Amanda, catch!” Andrei called, throwing one of the guards’ weapons towards her.

“Oh! Another one of those ‘guns,’” Pinkie said. “How exciting. I can’t believe I’m so excited. Am I just as excited as you are? Because I sure am excited.”

Amanda checked the clip, and then turned towards the ponies once more. “Follow me, stay low, and try to take cover when you can. This is going to be dangerous.”

Everypony nodded. They followed Amanda back to the door.

“Come on, everyone, it isn’t far,” Andrei said, as he led the way through the grey hallways. “We have to get to the missile silo!”

A familiar feeling washed over Amanda, as they all ran through the hallways. It was adrenaline, the rush of battle. Any other person would have wobbly knees and shaking hands, but not Amanda. Instead, she felt her senses sharpen, and her mind racing, thinking ahead. Amanda was a soldier, and, no matter how soft-spoken and innocent she looked, she was and would always be a soldier.

And so would Andrei. He had no trouble remembering and finding the right corridors and taking the right turns. According to the layout of the building he had seen, they should be close to the silo.

Voices came from ahead. Of course the Russians had heard the gunshots. Hell, they could have heard them from the other side of the bunker. The sound of voices became accompanied by boots upon the concrete floor.

“Dammit!” Andrei cursed. “If they reach the missile silo before we do, it’s game over.”

They quickened their pace. Amanda looked behind her, but she didn’t need to worry; the ponies were having no trouble keeping up. Creatures with four legs run faster than creatures with two, after all. “Can you shoot your magic?” she asked Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight bit her lip. “I can, but I’d rather not…” She motioned with her eyes to Pinkie Pie.

Amanda knew exactly what Twilight meant. Pinkie Pie shouldn’t see how Twilight and Rarity used their magic to harm, rather than to fix. But then another idea shot into Amanda’s mind. “Can you use a shield spell, Twilight?”

Nodding, Twilight said, “I can.”

“Then you go on ahead of us.”

Upon seeing the lavender alicorn taking the lead, Andrei said, “What’s the horse doing here?”

“Just trust me, mister,” Twilight said. “If things go awry, just take cover behind me.”

Andrei exchanged a glance with Amanda. “I hope you know what you’re doing…”

They ran and they ran and they ran. They scaled stairs three steps at a time. They could hear the sound of voices coming closer.

And then, disaster struck.

“The horses are on the loose! Fire!”

Twilight barely had time to put her shield up, before bullets began to fly. The lead impacted the shield, making high, clinking sounds. All of them glided down to land harmlessly on the floor.

“Bloody hell!” Andrei leveled his automatic towards the Russians in the hallway, but Amanda stopped him. “Don’t!” she said, “the shield works two ways! If you shoot, you might hit us with the recoiling bullets.”

“Then this shield is fucking stupid,” Andrei said. Desperation sounded in his voice, as he knew their chances of reaching the missile silo were over. They had to get past these Russians first, and the hall had no side passages. It was just one straight hall. Andrei cursed again, as he realized how close they had been. It was just around the next corner. A few more yards.

“Keep shooting! Don’t let them pass!”

Bullets kept flying, and Twilight kept blocking them. But even the princess of friendship had limits. Beads of sweat appeared on her face. Her wings quivered with the effort. It took a lot of magic to deflect such a tremendous amount of force. “I… I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off!” Twilight yelled.

If the shield failed, they were dead. There was a small group of six Russians firing at them, but more could stream in any minute now. Six guns against two; it wasn’t rocket science.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Andrei swore and punched the walls. “We need to rush through!”

Amanda also realized Twilight wasn’t going to hold up the shield much longer. Her brain feverishly worked on some kind of plan. She couldn’t draw a blank now. Not this time. They were at a disadvantage. Amanda wished they had a whole army behind him, but the truth was that there were just two humans and four horses. They had nothing.

Or… maybe they had.

Two humans, and four horses…

Amanda perked up. They had horsepower. She didn’t waste a second. “Andrei, grab Twilight. Everypony else, PUSH!”

“Oh! Are we going to walk in polonaise?”

“Yes we are, Pinkie,” Applejack said, grabbing Amanda. “Now push like you mean it!”

There was no time for Andrei to think about the plan. Three horses and one woman pushed against his back. In a reflex, Andrei grabbed Twilight. Together, they rushed on ahead.

That was something the Russians didn’t expect. As they saw the shield coming closer, they had no idea how to react. Some stepped back and kept firing, and others held their grounds. They saw that the shield posed no threat to them.

It didn’t pose a threat, but it did pose an obstacle.

The group of escapees slammed shield-first into the first Russian to meet them. He lost his balance, and fell down. Thanks to the power of the three horses, they were able to push on, taking the man with them as they advanced.

BUMP! There went a second one.

The weight of the Russian soldiers provided some resistance, but everyone and everypony kept pushing.

Andrei actually smiled. Their crazy plan was working! He let out a loud roar, as he really put his weight and his back into it.

They ran into a third Russian. He tried to jab at the shield with the butt of his gun, but that did nothing.

Suddenly, a new hallway opened up from their right. Andrei stopped. “Go, go, go! Everyone in!” he yelled, while he himself waited with Twilight and the shield, providing cover.

The missile silo was huge. Amanda and the ponies couldn’t even see the ceiling. It was as if they were standing in a gigantic tube, with stairways and catwalks circling around its sides. Amanda, Pinkie, Applejack, and Rarity began scaling the stairs, heading for an outcropping that looked like a reinforced, concrete room.

Down below, Twilight Sparkle looked up to Andrei. Her eyelids were half closed, and her ears drooped down. “I.. I can’t hold it any longer.”

“That’s fine, horse,” Andrei said. He put Twilight down, and grabbed his automatic. “I have been dying for some action for a long time.”

When he saw the shield flickering, Andrei took cover in a nook. Twilight climbed the stairs, galloping towards her friends.

Amanda was the first to reach the room. Casting a quick glance inside, she saw that it was a control room of some sorts, with switchboards and loads of buttons.

When Andrei looked back, he saw how far his friends had come. “Through the door, Amanda!” he shouted.

“But what about you?!” Amanda yelled back.

Andrei waved his hands in the air. “I’m fine! Just go!”

The Russians, meanwhile, had shaken off their bafflement and regrouped. There were now about a dozen of them. Slowly, they moved into the missile silo…

… And straight into a barrage of gunfire from Andrei.

Up in the control room, Amanda winced at the sound of gunshots. She looked down. There was nothing she could do. Andrei wanted to buy them time, to give them a head start. Shaking her head, Amanda decided to use that head start well.

“Dagnabbit!” Applejack shouted. “Door’s locked.”

“Locked?!” Amanda looked around. There was indeed a reinforced, steel door. It had a lock, which was connected to the pneumatic system. Amanda’s brain shifted into high gear. “Twilight! Can you blast the door open?”

“Huh? What?” Twilight’s head hung low to the ground. The running and spellcasting had obviously sapped her. Blasting the door open was not an option.

Applejack trotted up to the door and bucked it. Of course she couldn’t buck open a steel door.

Amanda looked down. Andrei had left his nook and was now crouched low to the ground behind a drum, giving the Russians all he had. Even though his aim was true, he was outnumbered. Not only that, but Amanda could spot a puddle of red underneath his foot. He wasn’t crouching just to steady his aim.

“But whatever shall we do?!” Rarity wailed. She wished there was a fainting couch nearby.

Strange as it may sound, that was the most helpful thing Rarity could say, because the sound of her voice made something click in Amanda’s mind. “Rarity! Can you use your magic to pick the lock?”

Rarity tilted her head. “Well, I… eh…”

“Can you do it or not?” Applejack said.

Rarity’s horn glowed. Out of her mane, she floated a bobby pin and a needle. “I always keep an extra needle with me. And I… well… I can try…” She moved towards the lock, and began to work.

All the while, Amanda watched the battle at the bottom of the stairs. Several Russians lay dead and bleeding on the floor. Andrei now held his shoulder with one hand, trying to steady his aim. His gun kept barking and spitting lead. Amanda realized that their time was almost up. He couldn’t have many bullets left by now.

Everypony watched as Rarity was busy picking the lock. She had the tools, and, thanks to her years of sewing, she had sharp eyes—eyes for details. Her horn glowed softly. Her movements were precise and delicate. She touched the tumblers with the needle, pressing them down one by one. Rarity thought she got them all. Slowly, she moved the bobby pin. Slowly… carefully…

SNAP!

The bobby pin broke.

“Oh no!” Applejack yelled.

But she spoke too soon. The nudge Rarity had given the lock with her bobby pin proved to be enough. With a hiss, the door slid open, revealing a dark hallway.

Down below, Andrei continued to fight. Even though he was badly hurt, he kept shooting the other Russians. With a cry of pain, another soldier went down, reaching for his heart. Amanda wanted to go down to help her comrade in the horrible battle. But she knew she couldn’t. She had to run, and protect the four little ponies. She had a responsibility now.

With a terrible pain in her heart, and tear-struck eyes, Amanda averted her gaze from the scene, and stepped through the door.

“What the hay is that!” Applejack exclaimed.

“That’s our ride,” Amanda said. She entered the code, and the door to the Winter slid open. “Everypony in!”

Luck seemed to be with Amanda. The hallway had led to a large set of stairs, leading up, up, up, until she came at more iron doors, which only opened from the inside. Once they stepped out on Ground Zero, and after Amanda oriented herself, she realized that they weren’t that far from the Winter at all. The tank stood about a hundred yards away from the exit of the passageway.

Once the ponies and Amanda all took place in the tank, Applejack said, “So can this thing really, well… ride?”

“It can,” Amanda said, climbing up and taking place in a steel chair. “But first, I have to do something else.” She turned the handles, aiming the barrel of the tank’s gun directly at the hillside where the exit of the hidden passage was.

Applejack looked at Amanda, as she peered through the scope. “Then what are you doing no—“

A thundering boom resounded, followed by the sound of crumbling stone. The entire right side of the hill went down, burying the exit completely. There was no way the Russians were going to get through that.

Amanda climbed down, and took place in the driver’s seat. “Now we’re ready to go.”

Chapter fifteen: Democracity

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Triggerhoof flew as fast as he could. He guessed he had been flying for about a day through the foul, radioactive air. It was now late afternoon, and the faint glow that gave away the sun was starting to settle in the west.

Triggerhoof chose to fly to the northeast, making sure to stay away from the crater of Aurora city. As soon as his Geiger counter started clicking, he would veer off further to the east until it went silent. He knew he was wearing a lead-lined, protective suit, which should theoretically allow him to venture far into the Aurora crater; the largest hotspot in the state. But he didn’t. Under the motto ‘better safe than sorry’ he stayed clear of the radiation. He knew he was overreacting, but nevertheless, he flew as he flew—out of the radiation.

He did notice something peculiar, as he approached the threshold of the Aurora crater. As might be expected of a crater, it should have looked like a valley, a large, man-made, radioactive valley. But there was something sticking out of that valley. Had some building miraculously survived the atomic blast that incinerated houses and people and everything else? Was something still standing?

The permanent, greenish mist that always surrounded the crater made it impossible for Triggerhoof to spot the hardy building below. But he didn’t care. He had to get to the American base and find his friends, not go sightseeing on Ground Zero. And besides the fact that he really wanted to see the general again, Trigg had another important thing to tell the American soldiers: the changelings.

As he flew, Triggerhoof kept thinking about the changelings which had come from the metro tunnel. He had seen firsthand how powerful those monsters were. They were almost impossible to kill. According to Princess Twilight Sparkle, only magic could take them out permanently. They could pose a real threat to the American army. Because, where there’s one, there could be more.

General Johansson had once told Trigg about the vast, underground metro system. Apparently, Aurora city had been famous for its safe and comfortable public transport, which made sure that everybody could go everywhere. If those tunnels were all connected with each other, then the changelings could also go anywhere they wanted. Thinking back to the strange, upside down membranes he had found together with the heat seekers, Triggerhoof concluded that the changelings had made the metro system their home. If they really reproduced themselves underground, then who knows how many are skittering and skulking underneath Ground Zero? For all Triggerhoof knew, there could be a whole army underground, waiting for an opportunity to strike the unwary. No, Triggerhoof had to alarm the Americans.

On his journey, Trigg flew over a forest. It looked untamed and dense. The trees closest to the Aurora crater were just black, scrawny toothpicks, devoid of any leaves or needles. It looked as if a scar ran through the forest, and as if the forest retreated from the irradiated crater. Triggerhoof couldn’t blame it. Yet, despite the forest’s revulsion to the Aurora crater, it stood its ground bravely. The trees looked a healthy green, and the leaves rustled in the wind. Triggerhoof wondered if there were still animals living in it, oblivious to the fact that mankind had destroyed itself with atomic bombs. If anything, the nuclear holocaust had been good for the animals, as they could now go wherever they wanted without having the fear of getting shot and eaten.

“They are reclaiming the land taken from them,” Triggerhoof said to himself. He had heard stories and seen pictures of how the world used to be, and he had seen that the role of animals in it was nihil. But now, the animals were the ones most capable of surviving. They survived, while the rest of humanity tore at each other’s throats.

The forest shot by underneath Trigg’s wings for a long time. It truly was enormous. The GPS system sent him further northwards. He should be close by now, but Trigg couldn’t possibly imagine an American base this close to such a beautiful, untamed piece of land. Yet, his assumptions were wrong.

Something strange came into view. It looked like a tower, but at the same time not. It looked more like an hourglass than a tower. The thing was gigantic, and spiraled up into the air, where it was topped off with clouds of white smoke. It was at that moment that Triggerhoof knew he had found the base. Where there’s smoke, there’s people.

Triggerhoof searched for a high spot to oversee the base. He chose a rocky hill. Landing, he checked the outcropping on its stability, and then he let his eyes feast on the facility below, and be amazed.

The base looked like a whole city. It wasn’t just a bunker, but also a facility, and the tower belonged to it. Triggerhoof racked his mind to remember what humans called it. Was it ‘powerplant?’ Triggerhoof concluded that whatever was going on inside, it must be important. There were tubes everywhere, running through metal brackets all over the building. Triggerhoof could see soldiers everywhere, walking over suspended catwalks and over the concrete area surrounding the base. They were well armed, wearing combat armor, helmets, and carrying large automatic weapons. Whatever was going on in that building must be important to them. There was a chain link fence around the perimeter, snaking around the whole area and disappearing behind the building. At some places, the fence was reinforced with metal plates, and gates had been made, with machine gun nests nearby.

Suddenly, the light came. First the searchlights flickered to life, but then other lamps started shining too. The sight of the illuminated facility made Triggerhoof gasp. There was light everywhere! For Triggerhoof, it truly was a spectacle, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. A breeze blew. Trigg saw the American flags waving in the wind. He knew there and then that this was where he was supposed to be. This was his new home.

At last, when the sun was below the horizon and the moon took its place, Triggerhoof found himself able to look away. He wanted in, so badly. But, as General Johansson had advised him, he wasn’t going to enter the place without some proper intel. He took to the skies, made sure to fly high so no one could spot him, and observed the base from a different perspective. That was when he saw them.

On the other side of the power plant, a whole battalion of helicopters stood, neatly arranged next to each other. There were two dozen of them, maybe more, and some of them even had two rotors. A metal wall was built around them, and colored lights marked the different landing platforms. Lots of soldiers patrolled the area, and with good reason, Trigg thought. No one would be so dumb as to leave a treasure like that unprotected.

He had seen pictures of the machines soldiers use to fly around to do recon missions or to destroy a target. But seeing them in real life was enormously different. They looked even bigger, even deadlier, even more impressive than in the books. For a moment, Triggerhoof truly felt jealous. If only he would have had one of those machines when the changeling attack started… He could have shot Chrysalis right out of the sky, and make the changeling army burn with missile fire. He nodded. Maybe they do stand a chance against the changelings…

There were trucks and jeeps as well, neatly arranged on a parking lot, but those looked puny compared to the helicopters. With a sigh, Triggerhoof realized he had seen enough. This army looked orderly, mobile, powerful. This base looked impressive and unconquerable. Triggerhoof couldn’t wait to swoop down and enlist. He wanted to be part of this superior force, to fight side by side with General Johansson for this glorious army and for this glorious nation. He wanted to devote his entire life to this army, and pledge his iron allegiance.

So what was the best angle of approach? Triggerhoof concluded that it would be at one of the gates. He flapped his wings, steering towards the main gate. Slowly he landed, filled up with excitement. He walked towards the gate.

A cry resounded. Searchlights swiveled and cast their rays upon Triggerhoof. He narrowed his eyes to slits to be able to see, but he couldn’t see much. Didn’t matter. He was dealing with soldiers, so he hadn’t expected a warm welcome anyway.

“Halt!” a voice said. “Don’t move a muscle.”

“I’m here to join you!” Triggerhoof shouted. “I want to fight for you!”

“Throw your weapons on the ground and approach—slowly.”

That was what Triggerhoof did. He unstrapped his two guns and let them fall to the ground. Then he walked towards the gate.

It opened, and a squadron of six soldiers appeared. After a quick search, they escorted Triggerhoof inside. They kept throwing glances at him, as they guided him towards the building.

“Another horse,” one of the soldiers said to an other. He spoke softly, but Triggerhoof could still understand him. “That’s pretty curious, isn’t it?”

Before someone else could answer, Triggerhoof asked, “What do you mean ‘another horse?’ are there more Equestrians here?”

But the soldiers didn’t answer, and stopped talking altogether.

They passed another metal door. Behind it, there was a concrete staircase leading down. At the bottom, it branched off into some hallways.

“We’re taking you to Admiral Montgomery,” one of the soldiers said to Triggerhoof. “He will see if you can be an asset to us or not. And anyway, I’m sure he would like to see you.”

Of course I can be an asset, Trigg thought, but decided to remain silent.

As they walked through the hallways and rooms, Triggerhoof noticed something strange. Beside the soldiers, there were people in lab coats scurrying about. Triggerhoof got a brief flashback to the day he entered that hospital. The men and women in lab coats had clipboards or stacks of papers in their hands. They looked a little out of place, but somehow Triggerhoof had the feeling that they belonged here as well.

Another door appeared. They went through it, and entered yet another hall. Two of the soldiers left through a door, while the other two remained with Triggerhoof. The soldiers asked him to take off his suit and his gasmask. Then, they sat him down on a bench.

A few moments later, the door opened, and the soldiers reappeared with two other persons. One was a man, broad shouldered and wearing a neat soldiers’ uniform. Many medals hung from his chest, and many stars shone on his shoulders. Admiral Montgomery.

But Triggerhoof’s attention was drawn to the other person. Next to the admiral stood a pony. She was an earth pony, light brown with a straw-colored mane in a short model. She wore a soldier’s uniform as well, but had adorned it with some purple. Her cutie mark was a golden trophy. She looked stiff and stark, both in her movements as in her facial expression—and so did the admiral.

The soldiers next to Triggerhoof stood up and saluted. Trigg decided to do the same.

“Well, well, well,” Admiral Montgomery said, “another horse indeed.” He nudged with his head towards the soldiers. “Dismissed.”

Once again the soldiers saluted, and then retreated the way they came.

“I knew this day was going to be interesting, even though it is already over,” Montgomery said. He reached out a hand. “My name is Admiral Montgomery, and this“—he gestured to the pony—“is Miss Harshwhinny. And you are…?”

“Triggerhoof,” Trigg said, returning the handshake.

“Very well.” A curious smile appeared on the admiral’s face, breaking his serious expression. He turned around. The same smile didn’t appear on Miss Harshwhinny’s face. “Follow me, Triggerhoof. Let’s have a private chat.”

The admiral’s office was big compared to Johansson’s. At the far end were some chairs and a desk, and the rest of the space was taken up by art. Where Johansson’s office had been dedicated to all things military—maps, charts, strategies, photos, newspaper clippings—Montgomery’s office was dedicated to the fine arts. There were paintings and sculptures on either side of Trigg. He watched them with a strange curiosity.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Montgomery said, sitting down in his chair.

“Where’s the intel?” Trigg asked.

“The ‘intel,’ is where it belongs, in thebriefing chambers,” Miss Harshwhinny said. Her voice was haughty and formal, and not very pleasant to listen to. “In one’s personal space, there is only room for things that ease the mind.”

Triggerhoof shrugged, and walked to the last remaining chair.

Admiral Montgomery took a minute to look the red pony over. His eyebrow slowly went up. Folding his hands together, he said, “Tell me something about yourself, Triggerhoof. What brought you here to Democracity?”

And so Triggerhoof told the admiral everything. He talked about Crossroads, about the Heat Seekers, about the attack of the changelings. When he mentioned them, Miss Harshwhinny stiffened. For a moment, Triggerhoof looked through her mask, and spotted bafflement—maybe even fear. But she said nothing, so he continued. When Admiral Montgomery asked Triggerhoof how he found out about Democracity, he showed him the tape recorder. Naturally, Montgomery took a listen.

As the last words of General Johansson flowed out of the recorder, Admiral Montgomery eyed Triggerhoof, and slowly nodded. “That’s quite an interesting story you have there, Triggerhoof. I can only say that I am glad you want to join us. If the Heat Seekers were only half as capable as you described, then you must truly be a great asset.” He paused, and cleared his throat. “Yes, the exploration of the other states had made us stumble upon your little bunker. We took everyone in. And, I am pleased to say that they are all here, alive and well, working for the American military.”

“General Johansson too? And Doctor Goodman?” Triggerhoof asked.

“He said everyone,” Miss Harshwhinny said, looking annoyed.

Triggerhoof perked up. A smile appeared on his stubbled muzzle. “But that’s great! Can I see them?”

Rummaging in her saddle packs, Miss Harshwhinny got out a clipboard and eyed it for a moment. “General Eric Johansson is currently on a mission, and Doctor John Goodman is on duty in the medical bay. You may speak to them later.”

Trigg didn’t like the tone of that pony. He realized that she must have hated him from the start. He couldn’t guess why, but he also didn’t care. His smile disappeared and he gritted his teeth. “Fine.”

“Triggerhoof, could you tell us more about these ‘changelings?’” the admiral said. “I want to know more about the nature of the enemy we’re dealing with.”

Nodding, Trigg began to explain. “From what I have seen of them in combat, they possess magic, and can launch a great amount of deadly energy towards a target.”

As Trigg talked, Miss Harshwhinny took out another form, put it on her clipboard, and started to write.

“Magic, you say…” Montgomery said. He turned towards Miss Harshwhinny for a second. When she nodded, he looked at Trigg again. “Anything else I should know? Anything that would help our soldiers fight against them?”

“Yes, sir. They can fly, and have a poisonous bite.”

Admiral Montgomery winced. “Sounds nasty.”

“It gets worse,” Trigg said. “They are immune to bullets, and maybe explosions too. They attack in numbers. But the worst trait of them is that they can shapeshift. They can disguise themselves as one of your soldiers, and infiltrate your ranks.”

Frowning, Montgomery said, “That is very disturbing. We should make up a codeword which we can use to identify ourselves, and maybe we should start coding our messages. Could you write that down, Miss Harshwhinny?”

“Certainly.”

“I’ve got one more thing to say, admiral,” Trigg said. “I came here not only to reunite with the people to whom I swore my loyalty, but I also came to warn you. These changelings breed underground, in the metro tunnels. Most likely an attack will come from underground. I don’t know how many they are. Perhaps there are thousands of them already.”

The admiral stroked his chin with his hand. “I see…”

When Miss Harshwhinny was done scribbling all of it down, she tapped the admiral on his shoulder. “Regarding this pony, admiral”—she cast a disdainful glance at Trigg—“I say let’s put him with X-ray squad.”

The way she was speaking about him sounded as if she was working with a mass-produced object. And besides, Triggerhoof didn’t like the name X-ray. He didn’t address Miss Harshwhinny, but turned his attention instead to the admiral. “Can I ask what my main objective will be, sir?”

Admiral Montgomery looked at Miss Harshwhinny.

“X-ray squad is tasked with hunting in the forest, to provide us with rations for the soldiers,” she said.

“Thank you very much,” Admiral Montgomery said. “I think that is an excellent suggestion. That way, Triggerhoof will get to know how we operate, and he will get used to our soldiers.”

Triggerhoof didn’t quite agree with the admiral’s plan. Hunting in the forest sounded boring. He’d much rather clear out a communist compound or retrieve a high-priority component. The hunting mission sounded so… easy. Triggerhoof was a Heat Seeker, not some greenhorn rookie soldier who doesn’t know which end of a gun kills. But of course he couldn’t go against the will of a superior. Therefore, he said simply, “Yes sir.”

The admiral turned to Miss Harshwhinny again. “Miss Harshwhinny, could you perhaps settle the paperwork and make sure that the proper gear will be given to our newest recruit tomorrow?”

“Yes, admiral,” she said. She turned around and headed for the door, but not before smiling an uptight smile at Triggerhoof. The feeling of dislike was mutual.

Once the door closed, Triggerhoof couldn’t help but ask, “If I may ask, sir, what is the story behind Miss Harshwhinny?”

“Well, she came in here just like you, and she joined our ranks just like you. We were quick to recognize her sublime skill at organizing, so I made her my personal accountant. If there is anything wrong, then go to her and she will fix it for you with the right papers.”

I highly doubt that, Trigg thought.

“Do you have any more questions, Triggerhoof?” Montgomery asked.

Trigg had a million questions to ask him. About this base, about the army, about his friends, about this world, about the war against the reds. But he somehow had the feeling that he would have to discover the answers to those questions himself. That’s why he said, “No sir.”

“Then you’re dismissed, soldier. Go get some food and meet your commander at the briefing at 9:00 sharp. Make us proud, pony.”

Triggerhoof saluted. “Yes, sir. I will, sir.”

Triggerhoof would never go against the commands of a superior officer. But he wanted to see them—so badly. Of course, he didn’t believe one word Miss Harshwhinny said, so he therefore concluded that Doctor Goodman and General Johansson were somewhere in the facility. After a bit of asking around, he got the location of the soldiers’ quarters. They were, just as in Crossroads, close to the surface, so the army could mobilize and react to threats on Ground Zero as quickly as possible. At first Triggerhoof thought he was lost, as he ended up seeing more and more lab coats around him. There were rooms with beds and lights and surgical equipment, and offices, loads of offices. The sound of typing was everywhere. Triggerhoof was in the medical bay.

“Raspberry? Is that you?!”

Upon hearing his name, Triggerhoof swiveled his ears in the direction of the sound. He had just enough time to turn his head and see Doctor John Goodman, before the man embraced him.

“Raspberry Trick, my God, you are here!”

“Indeed I am,” Trigg said. With a simple shift of his weight, he escaped the hug. They looked at each other for a moment. “How? Where? Why?” The doctor had a lot of trouble keeping himself from hugging the pony yet another time and never letting go. But he managed to keep himself in check. Doctor Goodman gestured with his hand. “Let’s go inside. I have a lot to tell you.”

Trigg followed him. Goodman’s office looked just like his office in Crossroads. He was a creature of habit. Triggerhoof expected Goodman to sit down in his chair, but instead, he turned around, closed the door, and locked it.

“Expecting trouble?”

Goodman took a seat, and motioned for Trigg to do the same. “Raspberry, oh, Raspberry,” he said with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Why not?” Trigg said. “The place looks good.”

Doctor Goodman rubbed his face with his hand. “It isn’t, Raspberry. It isn’t.”

Triggerhoof ignored Goodman’s statement. He wanted some answers now. “What is this place anyway?”

Goodman put on his glasses again. “A nuclear powerplant. Heh, it’s quite ironic that the thing that almost destroyed us all helps this base to live, isn’t it?”

“A nuclear powerplant,” Trigg repeated. That did make sense. A powerplant which had been spared from the atomic annihilation would be a very valuable target. He was glad the Americans found it first.

“Yes.” Goodman looked left and right, as if the walls could eavesdrop on what he was about to tell the pony. “But that’s not important. What is important is that you have to get out of here.”

“But why?”

“Because things are bad here,” Goodman said. “We are with so many… and the leadership here is in military hands.”

Triggerhoof tilted his head. “But that isn’t bad, right? Surely the military knows how to handle things.”

Slowly, Doctor Goodman shook his head. “They don’t. They prioritize military targets over everything. They prioritize their soldiers over everybody else. They get the most spacious quarters, the most food…”

Triggerhoof wanted to object, but then he noticed that Goodman might be telling the truth. The man swam in his shirt, and his lab coat hung over thin shoulders. His cheeks looked hollow.

“They are so busy with their war against the reds, they forget about the people who run things here,” Goodman said. “There are too few scientists here. The scientists that are here are working almost twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Already there are rumors about a revolt circling around.”

“A revolt?” Triggerhoof raised his eyebrows. “Against all of the military personnel here? Heh, fat chance.”

“That’s right, Raspberry. Things are bad here, and a revolt will get everyone killed. No one will be better off. I don’t want to see such a bloodshed. We have to do something!”

“But what about the hunting parties?” Trigg said. “I got assigned to one of those when I arrived here.”

Goodman threaded and unthreaded his fingers. “I don’t know about those, but somehow there is always a shortage of food. After the military personnel has eaten, there is barely anything left for the scientists and doctors. Maybe the hunting parties aren’t that successful, or maybe the military is stockpiling the food, keeping it away from us. I simply don’t know. You have to ask Johansson about that.”

“He’s here too? Where?”

“Just a few hallways away from here, but Raspberry, please stay for a while. I want to know what happened to you. Why didn’t you come back from that mission Johansson gave you?”

Triggerhoof really wanted to go to the general, yet he knew that Goodman deserved to know what happened to him. He told him about the changeling attack quickly, leaving out many details he had told Montgomery. But when he began about the changelings, Goodman interrupted him.

“What?! Changelings?!” he almost fell out of his chair. “How is that possible?”

Trigg shrugged. “Dunno. They were there, and they wiped us out. That’s all I know.”

Goodman pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Well, that’s quite curious…”

“Can I go to General Johansson?” Trigg said, already standing up.

Goodman raised his hands. “Raspberry, please, wait.”

Trigg turned around. “What is it?”

“I’m just… I’m just glad you’re here, and alive.” Goodman looked at the floor. “Although I’m sorry you arrived at the wrong time at the wrong place.”

“We’ll see about that,” Triggerhoof said. “I’ll make sure to bag as many animals as I can. Tomorrow, you’ll have a feast. I guarantee.”

“Could you do me a favor, Raspberry?” Goodman asked.

“If you call me by my real name, you can.”

“Please, keep an eye on the military. The scent of mutiny is in the air. And… and keep an eye on the food too. I want to know where all of it goes.”

“Roger that,” Trigg said, and disappeared through the door.

As he walked through the hallways further into the base, Triggerhoof became absorbed in his thoughts. If it was true what Goodman said, then he might find himself in a civil war soon. And then he had to choose sides. Of course he couldn’t choose now. First he had to see for himself if the military really malnourished its inhabitants, and discriminated the scientists. He had to see for himself if they really hid the food away, for fear of running out. Triggerhoof wanted to find out the truth.

Maybe Admiral Montgomery’s warm welcome was a little too warm…

More and more soldiers were walking through the hallways. Trigg knew he was on the right path. It didn’t take him long to find mess halls, equipment storage, and even a shooting range. The sound of gunshots was a beautiful melody to his ears, every different gun adding its own melodic layer of barks and bangs. Instantly, Trigg felt home. He knew he would run into the general soon.

But instead, he ran into Miss Harshwhinny. Triggerhoof had been so lost in thought, that he hadn’t spotted the mare. Now, they were almost muzzle to muzzle. “You’re going with me,” she said, and the tone of her voice indicated that ‘no’ was not an option.

Triggerhoof didn’t want to make any trouble, so he shook off his surprise, and obliged. They entered a room which was probably a briefing room, judging by the chairs and the projector screen. Miss Harshwhinny closed the door. Then she turned around, and fixed Trigg with a stare. “The admiral doesn’t take kindly on soldiers who disobey his command.”

“How do you know?” Trigg said with a snort.

Miss Harshwhinny waved her hoof. “We have a wonderful army of security cameras everywhere. Some are visible, some are not. And I happen to have authorization to see whatever I want to see.”

Triggerhoof grunted. He didn’t like being watched. “So now you’re the admiral’s spy too?”

Miss Harshwhinny adjusted her purple scarf. A content smile appeared on her lips. “In a certain way, yes.”

“So why are we here, huh?” Triggerhoof snapped.

Miss Harshwhinny’s smile disappeared. Her eyes went cold. “I just wanted you to know that total obedience is required to earn our trust. So far, you have done little to prove your worth.”

“So that’s why you hate me?” Trigg concluded.

“Not in the first place, but yes. You could say so.”

“Then what is the reason in the first place?” Trigg said, his rough voice sounding like a smoldering fire.

Miss Harshwhinny met his words with her cold stare. “You came from the outside. You came from Ground Zero, therefore, you can’t be trusted.”

Trigg didn’t understand. “And what has coming from Ground Zero got to do with being untrustworthy?”

“I have seen first hoof what happens with men in that wasteland. Ground Zero changes them, turns them into the worst versions of themselves just to fight and live another day. They would backstab and eat their own children if it allowed them to lengthen their miserable lives. You come from Ground Zero first, and Equestria second. I mean, look at you.” She waved a hoof at Trigg.

Trigg followed her hoof to himself, but he couldn’t spot anything peculiar.

“Look at you,” Miss Harshwhinny said. “All covered in scars and with those hard eyes and a harder voice. I bet you are a far cry from the pony you once were in Equestria.”

“Equestria is dead.”

“However much you can deny it, ‘Triggerhoof,’ you are from Equestria. You were once a brightly colored, cheerful pony, and not the ruffian you are now. Tell me, how many lives have you destroyed? How many ‘confirmed kills’ are on your name?”

Triggerhoof wanted to say something back, but couldn’t come up with any words.

Miss Harshwhinny closed her eyes and nodded. “That’s what I thought. You have lost count, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Trigg said through clenched teeth. “But every kill was necessary.”

“How?”

“Because I kill for a cause. I kill for my friends, so they could live another day. I kill for them so they survive in this Celestia-forsaken land. Hell, I flew all the way from the other side of the crater just to see them again. I’m not just a dull-witted raider, Harshwhinny. I am a soldier, and soldiers fight for something, they swear an oath and are only relieved when they die. There’s more to me than meets the eye, Harshwhinny. Now, are we done?”

Miss Harshwhinny was silent. She narrowed her eyes, giving Trigg one last, vicious stare. “I believe we are. Now go to your ‘friend’ General Johansson. He’s on the shooting range opposite of this briefing room.”

“Do you have cameras there?” Trigg bluntly asked.

“Yes, but I promise I won’t spy on you. Call it a token of my trust.”

Triggerhoof left the briefing room with a grim smile on his stubbled muzzle. He knew he had won the argument.

As soon as he entered the shooting range, he saw that Johansson and he were the only two persons there. Johansson was shooting an assault rifle. When he paused to reload, Triggerhoof stood next to him. “General Johansson, sir,” Trigg said, and saluted.

Johansson stopped reloading the gun, put the magazine down, and gazed upon his lost soldier. “Triggerhoof!”

Triggerhoof smiled. “I found your message, general. I came for you.”

With an open mouth and big eyes, Johansson said, “That’s great! I’m glad you’re here.” He stuck out his hand, and shook hands with Trigg. “It’s an honor to have you back on the team, Trigg.”

“And I’m looking forward to serving under you again, general.”

Then Triggerhoof told Johansson all about the mission and the changelings. He told of the bravery of the Heat Seekers, and how they fought till the last man.

“So.. they’re all gone? Simon, Amanda, Brockheart, Andrei?”

“I’m afraid so, sir,” Trigg said.

The general took off his beret. “They will be missed.”

“But they will be remembered,” Trigg added.

It was Triggerhoof’s turn to ask questions. Was the military really priority number one? Was there really a famine?

The general answered ‘yes,’ to both questions.

“But that’s so strange,” Trigg said. “I can’t wrap my hoof around the fact that there’s so little food. What about trade? Surely there must be some trading outpost nearby.

“There is,” Johansson said. “I’ve never been there myself, but I have heard stories from soldiers who accompanied the trading parties. It’s supposed to be a big hub somewhere to the west. According to the soldiers, the entire Ground Zero comes there to trade. There are reds too.”

“Reds?”

“Yes, and they are the problem. We constantly have to raid other military bases in the area to keep ourselves fully stocked. But the reds, they apparently have ammo and guns enough. All the traders there want either pre-war money, guns, or ammo. Sure, we have some guns and ammo, but the reds always outbid us, snatching away all the food in front of our very noses.”

Trigg scratched his stubble-covered chin with a hoof. “I see… But we have a forest nearby, right? So there should be a lot of food coming in from the hunting parties. But Doctor Goodman told me barely anything comes in. I just don’t get it! We should be able to hunt well; we’re a goddamn army! Well, I guess I will soon find out why, because I got assigned to a hunting party.”

A sudden gasp came from Johansson. “They assigned you to X-ray squad?!”

Trigg nodded.

Johansson rubbed his head with his hands, and looked with wide eyes at Trigg. “Then you should be careful, Trigg.”

“Why?”

“Because that squadron is doomed,” Johansson said. “Every day they go out to hunt in that infernal forest, maybe two dozen men, sometimes even more. And every day, just half of them—or even less—return, with barely any game.” Johansson crouched down so his eyes were level with Trigg’s. He grabbed the pony’s shoulders. “Something very strange is going on in that forest, Triggerhoof. Whatever it is, it is deadly and cunning, and able to kill our well-trained professionals. You should be very, very careful, and watch your back.”

Trigg wanted to scoff and tell Johansson that he didn’t believe in ghost stories, but the general’s expression looked dead serious. He looked at Trigg as if he were seeing a ghost right now. So Trigg just nodded. “I will watch out, sir.”

“Good.” Johansson still crouched, and looked Trigg deep in the eyes. “I don’t want to lose you a second time, Triggerhoof.”

Then Triggerhoof asked Johansson some more questions about the state of Democracity, and got many answers to his questions. The military was well aware of a possible riot, and made sure to keep every weapon they had safe. There were the occasional screenings and interrogations, to flush out any renegades. Upon asking him which side he would join, Johansson shook his head. He didn’t know. Most likely, when shit hit the fan, he would look for another base.

“But the army here looks so good and well-equipped,” Trigg said. “They even have helicopters!”

Johansson shrugged. “Well, helicopters aren’t worth a damn if there isn’t any food to feed the pilots. There are a whole lot of other American bases on Ground Zero.” He patted Trigg on the back. “Don’t worry, Triggerhoof, we will fight for America, one way or the other.”

That statement eased Trigg’s mind. Johansson hadn’t changed; he was still the patriot he used to be. “We will fight for America,” Trigg repeated.

With the sound of screeching metal, the gate opened. X-ray squad was quite a big hunting party, with about two dozen soldiers. They were all equipped with shotguns, to take out birds and small animals like rabbits; and sniper rifles, to kill big game like wolves or bears. Triggerhoof himself wore his familiar harness with his combat shotgun on one side, and his assault rifle on the other.

They moved through the gate, walking in tight formation. Every soldier was able to see one of his squad members to the right, and one to the left. The men seemed nervous. On their way to the forest, they sometimes stumbled over rocks or gaps in the road. They all reckoned they were going to die. Survival in the forest, apparently, depended on luck and luck alone.

But Triggerhoof wasn’t nervous; he was curious. He was curious to know what exactly happened in the forest. He didn’t believe in ghosts, and he knew everything could be killed eventually. There were probably just a few bears or a packs of wolves which stalked the area. Whatever the true reason was, Triggerhoof would find out soon. They reached the forest.

It truly was as dense as Triggerhoof had seen from the sky. The first few hundred yards were relatively flat, but soon there were massive trees and dense shrubs all around him. Triggerhoof looked up. He couldn’t see the sun. Not even the watery haze that made desperate attempts to penetrate the radioactive cloud cover could be spotted. It was almost as dark as the night.

Triggerhoof looked left. There was a soldier. Then he looked to the right. Another soldier. It was strangely quiet in the forest. The only sounds were the huffs and puffs of the soldiers, as they marched through the dense vegetation, the sound of snapping twigs, and the rustling of the vines. There wasn’t even wind. The temptation to take off his gasmask and sniff the healthy forest aroma almost made Triggerhoof reach for his mask, but then he remembered why he wore it in the first place. The forest was close to the Aurora crater. The burnt part of it was just a mile away to the east. Radioactive particles could be anywhere in the air.

Triggerhoof watched his Geiger counter. He didn’t need to worry; the needle was almost at the very bottom. Theoretically, he could take his gasmask off. But of course he wasn’t going to do that. No way!

They came upon a grassy clearing, and when Triggerhoof looked, he could see three soldiers far. The squad was still complete. After a hill, they plunged back into the dense forest. The undergrowth changed. Where before there had been ferns and other leafy bushes, now there were brambles which hooked itself to his protective suit whenever Trigg stepped forwards. Flapping his wings, he started hovering in midair. He smiled a thin smile, as he saw that the soldiers were looking at him in silent awe. They had seen a pony before, but they had never seen a pegasus before.

A gunshot shredded the silence apart. Trigg jolted at the sudden sound. The soldiers left and right from him stopped. In the distance, a flock of birds soared into the air. Trigg nodded. Somebody is getting lucky…

He wanted to move on, but a second gunshot echoed through the forest. By the sound of it, Triggerhoof guessed it was a sniper rifle. Maybe someone shot an elk.

Another gunshot. Another flock of birds took to the air. Triggerhoof was feeling increasingly jealous. They were shooting game, and he hadn’t encountered a single animal yet. Sometimes, life on Ground Zero seemed so unfair.

Suddenly, there was a whole cacophony of barking guns. Five, six, maybe seven guns Triggerhoof could hear. Was everyone that lucky but he?

But Triggerhoof didn’t need to worry, because the shooting soldiers were far from lucky. More guns fired. The sounds became mixed with yells here and there, and they weren’t animal cries. They were the cries of men fighting for their lives.

Triggerhoof landed, and stuck the feathers of his wings through the trigger guards. If something showed itself, he would be ready.

He caught a dark shape in the corner of his eyes. Trigg turned around and fired his shotgun. He hit only empty air.

Directly after the shot, a terrible shriek cut through the air, making the symphony of disaster complete. When Triggerhoof blinked his eyes, the soldier to his right was gone.

He looked to his left. The soldier was still standing. Something came from the shadows of the bushes. Triggerhoof wanted to yell and warn him, but it was too late. The dark shape pounced on the soldier and pinned him to the ground. Then, a strange red glow appeared. It was as if the soldier was being leeched until there was nothing left of him. He kept screaming and screaming. His torture didn’t seem to end. His arms and legs flailed around, and then dropped. He was dead.

Before it took to the sky, the creature that had attacked the soldier turned its head towards Triggerhoof. Cold blue eyes glimmered for a second. Then it was gone.

But Triggerhoof had seen enough. More cries echoed through the forest, as more changelings found their prey. The hunters had become the hunted. Triggerhoof needed to get out of the forest. To him, the mission was aborted. The squad leader was probably dead anyway.

Triggerhoof ran. He didn’t fly, because he wanted to keep his guns at the ready. He knew bullets couldn’t harm the creatures, but he wasn’t going to go down without a good fight.

The leaves rustled to his right. Trigg turned around, and fired his shotgun. A changeling tumbled out of the bushes, dead.

So apparently bullets can stop them…

Trigg moved on. He charged through the brambles and jumped over tree trunks. Sometimes he looked back to see if he was being chased. The sound of the screams went fainter and fainter. That could either mean that Triggerhoof was making progress, or that there were fewer and fewer soldiers left alive.

Thanks to the cries of help, he didn’t hear the skittering of the changeling’s wings. A changeling dropped from the skies and on top of Triggerhoof. He went down, but managed to change his fall into a small roll, shaking the changeling off of him. When he jumped to his hooves and leveled his shotgun, the changeling didn’t stand a chance.

BLAM! Off went the changeling’s head.

A grim smile played upon Trigg’s lips. He having fun with this.

From a small bush to his right, another changeling appeared.

“Whoa!”

This changeling was easily twice as big as the ones he had shot. Besides that, it was wearing red armor, and its horn curved upwards through a helmet, covered in spikes. The changeling hissed, creeping closer.

Triggerhoof wasn’t dumb. He knew that this changeling was different from the others. He reached back, and grabbed his knife in his hooves. He narrowed his eyes. “Come on, then!”

The changeling charged towards Triggerhoof. At the last second, the pony rolled aside, and jabbed his knife towards the monster’s knees. He hit home. Green fumes escaped the wound, and green droplets oozed down upon the ground.

The changeling let out a shriek. It limped, as one of its legs bore a nasty cut. Instead, the changeling fluttered its wings and took to the sky. It turned around, and narrowed its icy eyes towards Triggerhoof.

Trigg searched for the thickest tree he could find, and positioned himself in front of it. Once the changeling would charge at him again, he would once again roll to the side, and the changeling, carried by its momentum, would crash into the tree. A simple plan, and maybe a cliché, but clichés work.

With wild flaps from its big, translucent wings, the changeling charged towards Triggerhoof. But the moment he wanted to roll aside, the changeling stopped, landed, and swiped its tail at the pony. Trigg’s legs were swiped away from under him.

Triggerhoof smacked to the ground. His knife flew out of his hooves, and landed with a clink somewhere in the foliage. When he gazed up, he looked right into the soulless eyes of the changeling. Even though its eyes were blue, they radiated such hatred and fury that Trigg thought they could turn red any second. His view became blocked by two enormous fangs, the size of a strong soldier’s hand. The changeling struck.

“Not this time!” Triggerhoof planted his hind legs to the changelings belly, and bucked for all he was worth. The changeling didn’t expect such resistance from its prey, lying on the ground helpless. But not so helpless after all. Triggerhoof rolled and kicked the air, jumping to his hooves. His wings curled around the triggers of his assault rifle, and he fired.

He kept shooting and shooting at the changeling. Bullet cases flew everywhere. Trigg screamed as he let his gun roar. The changeling was already in the air again, shielding its body with a wing. Trigg knew that the things were hard to kill with bullets, but he had to do something, and he had dropped his knife. He stepped closer and closer to the changeling, until he was at point blank range. He aimed for the eyes, the head, the vital parts of its body. Only when the magazine of his assault rifle was empty and his gun clicked instead of roared, Triggerhoof stopped yelling.

The changeling unfolded its wings. A pile of lead had formed around its hooves. Trigg’s effort was useless.

But the changeling was tired of the gun. It jabbed its horn towards Triggerhoof, who barely managed to dodge the move. Instead, the changeling sliced the leather strap around Trigg’s barrel.

Trigg looked, his eyes full of surprise, as his guns clattered to the ground and the changeling tossed them away, all in one fluent motion.

Now he was defenseless, and out of weapons. For moment, Triggerhoof just stood there, gazing at his enemy. He could bolt off into the foliage and try to find his knife. It was the only option he had. Trigg shook his head and ran for the shrubs.

Concentrating, the changeling charged up its energy lance. Its horn glowed with an unearthly light. Crackles of electricity and raw magical power emanated from it.

Triggerhoof looked up, and shielded his eyes from the light. The next moment, his world exploded.

He felt the white-hot lance burn his skin and singe his mane. Trigg cried out, but it did nothing against the pain. It felt as if he were cooked from the inside. The boom that followed the flash shredded his ears. He thought he would never hear again. He fell down to the ground. It was over.

The changeling panted a bit after such a powerful attack. It fluttered downwards, and slowly walked towards the fallen pegasus.

Triggerhoof knew he was defeated. His barrel hurt, and he could smell the scent of burned hairs. He saw the changeling approaching. But even though he was in terrible pain, he still wasn’t going to go down without a fight. As much as it hurt, he rolled over, trying to get a look on his enemy.

The changeling approached slowly, still eyeing its prey suspiciously, wondering if the pegasus had another trick up his sleeve. As it opened its mouth, some bullets dropped out of it and fell on the ground. The changeling’s tongue appeared, and it hissed in delight. An Equestrian pony should have a lot of love in him. When the changeling reached Triggerhoof, it rolled him over until he was lying on his back. The changeling opened its mouth, and began to feed.

At first there was nothing in Trigg’s mind. The past years, his years on Ground Zero, had left him with little love or affection. Of course, there were the Heat Seekers, Goodman, and Johansson, but those were just comrades in arms. The changeling dug deeper.

And there it was; Trigg’s memories about Equestria. Trigg could feel the changeling draining away everything he loved. The archery club, Nockle Stringer, his parents Building Block and Carrey, his friends from the club. Every positive memory disappeared into the changeling’s open mouth. All those ponies were gone in the blink of an eye, as if they never existed in the first place.

But the changeling wanted more. The green haze started to change color. Now it was red, and Triggerhoof could feel that something else was being drained out of him now: his vitality. He felt every scar on his body open up into the fresh wounds they once were. He felt the pain of a thousand battles skin him alive. He saw things that would make even the bravest soldier cry in agony. And lastly, he felt his life force disappear.

Must… do something… Thinking was hard, as every thought got sucked away from his brains. He forced his eyes to move, and spotted his weapons lying beside him.

Slowly, his shaky wing traveled to the trigger of his shotgun. Slowly, it slipped through the trigger guard. Slowly, it curled around the trigger.

BLAM!

The shot didn’t hurt the changeling, but it made it stagger backwards, breaking its spell. Triggerhoof slumped down. Darkness descended upon him. He tried to keep his eyes open, but it cost him as much effort as moving a mountain. The last thing he heard was the sound of glass breaking, a strange sound in a forest. A grey mist formed around him, and he wasn’t sure if that was his failing eyesight or that there was actually a mist in the forest. The grey faded to black. The blackness slowly overwhelmed him. But strangely enough, there was also white. Black and white were the last colors he saw, before the pain faded and his eyes left him in the dark.

Chapter sixteen: towns apart

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Amanda didn’t tell the ponies about the death of Rainbow Dash. She had tried to tell it several times, but each time she lost her courage. She knew it would devastate their hearts, as it had devastated hers. Instead, she focused on driving the tank onwards.

Amanda and the ponies had talked for a long time during the journey. Now, she knew about their mission: to save Rainbow Dash and to find the missing element of kindness. She pretended that her talk with Rainbow Dash never happened, and often feigned bafflement and shock. Still, the fact that the changelings had launched another attack on Equestria, and that Discord was an ally of Chrysalis, was hard for her to swallow. The way the ponies told it, Equestria was having a hard time.

And the changelings were here on earth too. That fact greatly troubled the ponies. “We knew Chrysalis was going to teleport herself to this world as well,” Twilight said. “If she really has been breeding an army of changelings, we have to stop her as soon as we can!”

Amanda nodded, and continued her story. She told the ponies all they wanted to know about this world. But she made sure to leave the most gruesome details behind. The ponies, especially Pinkie Pie, possessed a kind of innocence that Amanda didn’t want to destroy. Ground Zero could turn your best friend into your worst enemy, and she wasn’t going to let that happen to the four little ponies.

“I can’t believe they actually did that!” Twilight said, as Amanda told her about how the war started and how it was fought.

She silently nodded. “The world you see is created by those weapons.”

The ponies were glad that they had run intoAmanda. She could tell them so many things about Ground Zero, and answer so many questions. Telling about it didn’t make Ground Zero any more beautiful, but at least it made it understandable.

“Did you encounter any more ponies here?” Twilight asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Amanda said, but then slapped herself on the forehead. “I mean yes, there was another pony. His name was Triggerhoof, and he—“

A loud gasp from Pinkie interrupted her. “Oh! Is it the same Triggerhoof we found?”

Upon Amanda’s questioning glare, the ponies talked about Triggerhoof for a while, and how they had met him. Amanda couldn’t believe her ears. Triggerhoof was alive! Sadly, the ponies couldn’t tell her exactly where he departed to, but Amanda could guess. He was probably going to the same place she wanted to go, for she knew that Triggerhoof wanted to see his friends too. “He was a very good soldier,” Amanda said.

“Yeah, we saw that alright,” Applejack dryly commented.

“We didn’t see a lot of him,” Twilight said. “But the way you talk about him, you might know him best. Did Triggerhoof ever do anything kind?”

Amanda let out a sigh. “I know what you are thinking, and I’m sorry. Triggerhoof will never be the element of kindness.”

Twilight nodded. “I understand.”

There was a silence. Only the rumbling of the heavy engine accompanied them on their journey. Amanda had put the general location of the shopping mall into the tank’s GPS system. A quick glance at the fuel meter put Amanda on edge. She hoped it wasn’t far now, or they would be stranded who--knows-where on Ground Zero.

The evening was coming in. The light of the sun faded. But Amanda reckoned that was actually a good thing. Andrei had said that she would recognize the underground shopping mall by its light, so, in theory, it would be easy to spot now. There were a couple of hills ahead, looking like solid waves on the darkening horizon.

“Oh! That looks pretty!” Pinkie Pie said, as they scaled the hills. For some reason, she had fallen in love with the Winter’s main cannon. Ever since the tank started moving, the pink pony hadn’t taken her eyes away from the scope.

“Let me see, let me see!” Rarity said. She was in the mood for something pretty in the dreary world she was in now.

Through the scope, Rarity saw something as tacky as tacky could be. It looked as if someone had gathered up all the neon signs he could find, and glued them together into a jumble of colors. There were road signs, pharmacy signs, street lamps, bar signs, casino signs. Every building that used neon lights was represented into the strange piece of art. Its light was dazzling. When Rarity looked closer, she saw movement. Indeed, the black shapes of people could be seen scurrying around the dome-shaped structure. There was obviously a lot going on there.

“Miss Amanda,” Rarity said, “I think we have found what we are looking for.”

“Eeyup,” Applejack added.

A strange display opened up before their eyes.

There was light everywhere, and people too. Amanda had never seen so many people in one place at once. There were so many sounds! A constant echo of voices resounded, against which the stallholders tried to make themselves heard. Most of the visitors to the mall were wearing protective suits and gasmasks, as might be expected. There were buyers and sellers everywhere. All around the sides of the circular room, little stalls could be seen selling whatever junk people could scrounge together. There were suits, masks, weapons and ammo, gasoline, and parts from every machine imaginable. It truly was a remarkable place.

Amanda had no idea where to begin. Both she and the ponies wanted to find someone. Of course, Amanda still wanted to find out where her friends from Crossroads were, and the ponies had to find the element of kindness somewhere. They had picked a good place to start looking. Could the element be here? Could Amanda’s friends be here too?

But alas, Twilight and her friends couldn’t spot one single pony between the throng of people. Of course a pony would be easy to see between the black and grey of the crowd. Yet, they couldn’t spot a single one. They realized they had encountered a dead end. Or maybe not?

Someone came running towards them. She was a woman with a blonde ponytail, which kept swinging in the air as she rushed through the crowd. Amanda gripped her gun.

“No, no, no need to be afraid,” the woman said. Then she reached out a hand. “Name’s Jenny, Jenny Mason.”

“Amanda,” Amanda said, still unsure what to do with this strange woman.

She perked up. “Oh! And who are these cuties?”

“They’re my friends,” Amanda said. She saw the childlike glee in the woman’s eyes, and concluded that she must either be extremely pleasantly surprised, or crazy.

“Can they talk?”

“Yes, they—”

“Can I ask them some questions?”

“Well, I think they should—”

“Great!” Jenny fumbled in her pockets, and brought out a small notebook and a pen. When she saw Amanda’s strange stare, she finally clarified what she was doing here. “I’m Plaza City’s best and only reporter, you see? I try to keep up to date with whatever happens in this beautiful community. And once I have gathered enough information, I shout it off the rooftops—literally.” She pointed upwards. “Do you see those speakers hanging everywhere?”

Amanda followed her finger. Indeed, there were speakers hanging on the concrete walls and the pillars of the balconies. “Yes.”

“Very soon, you will hear me speaking about the exciting things that happen here, not only to inform everyone, but also to entertain everyone. I call it ‘Jenny’s Jovial Newsflash.’ How about that, huh? Pretty cool name, if you ask me.”

“Eh… yes, pretty cool,” Amanda said.

“Oh, but it gets better,” Jenny’s voice was brimming with so much excitement, Amanda thought the woman might explode, “because I have something very special in my office: a long-range transmitter. That’s right! Everyone in the entire state who has a radio can hear my news reports about Plaza City. It’s a form of advertisement, you see?”

“Eh… that’s… great?”

Jenny crouched down, so her eyes were level with the ponies’. “Alright, first question: who are you? Or, no, the first question should be, ‘what are you doing here?’ Or what about, ‘how did you find out about our gorgeous city?’ No wait, I think, ‘where are you from?’ is better. Or maybe…”

Jenny kept rattling on and on, so Amanda quickly lost interest. Instead, her eyes caught four men, marching directly towards her and the ponies. Amanda couldn’t see their faces well, but she saw that they had buttons and markings on their protective suits. She guessed they must be security guards.

“The president would like to see you four ponies,” one of them said, pushing Jenny aside.

“Hey! I was here first!” Jenny squeaked.

The ponies retreated. Twilight did a step forwards. “Why would the ‘president’ like to see us?”

“Beats me,” the guard said with a shrug. “He said he just wanted to see you.”

“What do you say, Twi?” Applejack said. She was ready to tackle one of those guards any moment now, allowing her friends an opportunity to escape.

But Twilight had another plan. She knew this was going to be interesting. “Let’s go, everypony.”

Jenny raised her arms in protest. “But you can’t do that! I have a job to do here.”

“And so has the president,” the guard said. Without a word, they took their positions and escorted Amanda and the ponies away from Jenny the reporter.

When the guards were sufficiently far away from the them so that they couldn’t understand them, Applejack said, “You sure about this?”

“No,” Twilight said. “But I am sure that whoever runs this place knows who goes in and who goes out. Maybe he or she has found other ponies.”

“Let’s hope so…” Rarity said. “I don’t want to be stuck in this dusty, smelly junkyard forever.”

Amanda followed the ponies too. The guards said she should go away, but then Twilight said that she belonged to them. The guards grumbled and moved on.

They walked through the throng of people towards what looked like a border post. There was a makeshift gate with some more guards, carrying large automatic rifles. They waved them around every time someone got too close to their liking. Sometimes a person came with an outstretched hand, and gave the guards something, after which they were allowed passage. It seemed as if the guards were guarding a large marble staircase.

The guards let them through, and they descended the staircase. It spiraled downwards for a long time. On every sublevel there were also people, vendors, and stalls. But the deeper they went, the fewer people were around. The hall before the bottom was filled with only a handful of people, who were finely dressed and were discussing something amongst themselves. Twilight arched her brow in curiosity; she had a lot to ask the man or woman who was in charge.

After a completely empty hall, the guards led them towards an ornate, wooden door. They took off their gasmasks, opened the door, and then everyone stepped inside. Everyone but the guards let out a gasp, as they saw who stood before them. The mall wasn’t owned by somebody; it was owned by somepony.

His mane was slicked back, he wore a beautiful suit, he had a toothpaste-white smile, and he had cunning eyes. He nodded towards Applejack. “Hello there, Applejack. Good to see you. And the others too, of course.”

“Filthy Rich?!” Applejack exclaimed. “What are you doing here?!”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Filthy Rich said. “Care for some champagne, or should we retreat to my study?”

They stood in what looked like a classy living room. There were paintings on the wall, and a soft carpet on the floor. Light came from a beautiful chandelier, and warm, wooden furniture made the picture complete. It looked almost surreal compared to the messy hubbub above. It looked totally out of place.

Filthy Rich chuckled. “I reckon you haven’t seen such style and elegance in a long time. Well, I can’t blame you. Style and elegance are things hard to come by on Ground Zero.” He nodded towards the guards. They retreated.

“Why in the hay are you here?” Applejack asked. “And now that we speak of it, where is here?”

“Well, I had expected to get a lot of questions, but not so fast. We haven’t even reached the door of my study yet. You know what? Never mind.” Filthy Rich walked over to a couch and a set of velvet armchairs. “Come, sit down, then I will tell you all about Plaza City and my shining career.”

The four ponies took a seat on the couch, and Amanda seated herself in the armchair. When she looked up, she received a strange stare from Filthy Rich. “You haven’t introduced me to your eh… friend?” he said.

“This is Amanda,” Twilight said. “She has saved us, and we are indeed friends.”

Amanda’s heart lighted up in joy at hearing Twilight say that. Those words meant a lot to her.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Filthy said. “Now, who wants to hear the story of my life?”

“Oh, oh, oh,” Pinkie yelled. “Me! Me! Me!”

Filthy grinned. “Very well. Let me start from the beginning, which was the invasion of the changelings. Me, my wife and my daughter were on a business meeting in Canterlot, when the changelings came. Of course, we were terrified, so we wanted to take cover in our hotel. We ran as fast as we could, but something caught up with us. I still have no idea what it was, but it was loud and bright. One moment we find ourselves running for our lives, and the next we are here on Ground Zero.”

Applejack waved her hoof around. “But what about this? What about the mall?”

“Plaza City is my second child,” Filthy said with a mile. “Of course it was already there when I got zapped into this world, but it wasn’t nearly as profitable as it is now. The leadership was terrible. Of course I could easily outbid them with my gemstones and my smooth talk. I was wearing bags of gems when I left Equestria.” He chuckled. “I mean, I had to save my life and my money…

“Anyway, once I bought this place and made sure that big investments were made, the profit kept coming. The stallholders pay so I let them stay, and all of the visitors pay taxes over every product they buy.” Filthy gestured with his hoof. “And as you can see, I didn’t let that money go to waste. Sure, it took my wife and daughter some time to adjust to this new… world. But now we’re a happy family—a happy rich family.”

“Adjust to this new world?” Twilight said with raised eyebrows. “But don’t you want to go back to Equestria?”

Now Filthy’s eyebrows shot up as well. “Back to Equestria?! Equestria is gone. I’d rather stay here than return to that changeling-infested world of ours. Sure, this world has its downsides as well, but at least there are no changelings here.”

Amanda and the ponies exchanged a glance at the wrongness of that assumption.

Then they proceeded to tell Filthy Rich all about their quest to find the missing elements and combat Chrysalis. Filthy Rich smirked suddenly, and then chuckled to himself.

“What’s the matter, Filthy?” Applejack said, “don’t you have faith in us?”

Filthy Rich reached for his stomach, and waited until his burst of laughter died out. “In the business world, stability is everything, and risks and assumptions can become your worst enemies. I have a stable income here on Ground Zero, and, to be honest, I’m not willing to take the risk of you finding two ponies in this whole Celestia-forsaken wasteland.” He sighed. “And even if I would go back to Equestria, I would have to build my whole career again from the ground up.” Filthy paused, and ran a hoof through his hair. “I’m sorry, but I made my choice.”

Snorting, Applejack wanted to say something else, but Rarity stopped her. “Let’s finish our tale first, shall we?”

So the ponies told Filthy Rich even more. They would expect him to be baffled and frightened by the idea that there are changelings on Ground Zero. But surprisingly, as they mentioned them, Filthy Rich scoffed them away with a wave of his hoof.

“Let them come,” he said. “I have my own private army. Let them come and try their best. Hay, if I had an army like this before the Changeling attack on Canterlot, I could have emerged as the victor myself.”

“But there’s just one thing I don’t understand,” Applejack said. “Why did you have your henchmen send us here?”

Filthy Rich cleared his throat. “Well, after one of my guards notified me on the arrival of new pony visitors, I was highly curious. And now I see I had every reason to be, because I’m here with four of the elements of harmony, with Princess Twilight herself.”

Applejack shook her head. “I know you, Filthy. That can’t be the only reason. There’s probably something you want from us, ain’t there?”

“Heh, and then they say Princess Twilight is the most clever one—“

“What about me?” Pinkie said.

Filthy ignored her. “But yes, Applejack is right. I have a task which is a bit… sensitive, secret even. I couldn’t possibly trust one of my men to carry out the task for me, because trust is hard to buy. But now that I have the elements of harmony here… yes, yes, this might work.”

“Then what is it?” Applejack said.

Tapping his chin in thought, Filthy took a moment to gather up the right words. Then he spoke. “To the north, there is a place, a place with hardly any radiation, so it is theoretically safe to live there. But it is not just a place; it is a neighborhood. A neighborhood untouched by time, which the bombs somehow managed to miss. Imagine that, beautiful houses, big, open gardens with ponds, and clean, safe streets. It is a really nice neighborhood at that, and I want it.”

“Well, just go out there and grab it,” Applejack deadpanned.

Filthy Rich sighed. “If only it were that simple. But no, I can’t. You see, when I moved here and started scouting out the area, I discovered that me and my family weren’t the only ponies that got sent to this world.”

Twilight perked up. “There’s another pony there?”

“Indeed, Princess Twilight. Mayor Mare is mayor in that neighborhood. They have built a wall to keep the scum out, and I guess they must have fresh water and even electricity. But Mayor Mare refuses to let me buy the town. I have no idea why; she never tells me. No matter how much money I offer her, she always declines. Now I could just storm the place with my army, but that would certainly make me look bad in front of others. My reputation as an honest businesspony would be besmirched. This has to be done with words and money. Not only do I want to know why Mayor Mare keeps declining, but I want to find a way to get… that… neighborhood.”

“And you think we can do the job?” Applejack said.

“Precisely.”

Amanda lifted a hand in the air. “I’m sorry, Mister Rich, but what, if I may ask, do you intend to do with the place?”

Filthy closed his eyes and nodded. “A fair question. I would like to use it, not only as my own residence, but the residence of a few of my closest and most valuable business partners too.”

Twilight recalled the men in the suits on the lowest floor. She suddenly had an uneasy feeling. “Why are there fewer and fewer traders the deeper we went?”

“Well, not everyone can afford to live that deep,” Filthy answered.

“You charge them money?” Applejack said.

“Indeed I do.”

Applejack was not satisfied with that answer. “But why don’t you open the place up for everyone? Everyone deserves some protection from the harsh world outside, right?”

Filthy let out a chuckle. “Applejack, oh, Applejack. Honest Applejack, the world doesn’t work like that. Sure, Equestria was once a world where everyone could go everywhere, but now there are limitations. And smart ponies like me know how to bend these limitations to our own hooves.”

“So you can get richer,” Applejack said with a snort.

“In a certain way, yes. But look at it another way. If I wouldn’t be rich, then I wouldn’t be able to offer everyone a place to trade and maybe even rest their heads for a while.”

“But only if they pay,” Applejack concluded.

Filthy Rich nodded. The smile didn’t leave his muzzle. He actually seemed convinced of his own reasons and way of thinking. Of course he was; he was a businesspony, after all. “But don’t think that I will not reward you, if you prove to be successful in the mission,” he said, looking at everyone in turn. “No, if you complete the task, then you have earned yourself the favor of the richest pony on Ground Zero, and you may call upon that favor whenever you want.”

Applejack didn’t like Filthy’s slick smile with which he accompanied his words. She reckoned there was more to this mission than meets the eye.

But Twilight had made up her mind. She wanted to meet Mayor Mare and hear her out. Maybe there were even more ponies in the neighborhood Filthy Rich had told them about. And what else could they do? They had already seen that there was not a single pony here in Plaza City. They had no money. They had no transport. They had nothing but Amanda, their friend. And that’s why Twilight stood up and reached out a hoof. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Filthy.”

“Wonderful,” Filthy Rich said, “but please, call me Rich.”

Filthy Rich gave them a place to sleep in his guest bedroom. The next day, he even gave them fuel for the Winter, so that they could reach the neighborhood in a few hours. As they drove farther and farther away, Amanda occasionally cast a glance at the Geiger counter of the tank, and was amazed by what she saw. Filthy Rich had been right; the level of background radiation kept dropping and dropping and dropping. Soon, the levels were reduced to a neglectable amount. Dumbstruck, Amanda reckoned she wouldn’t even need her suit and mask if she went outside.

Of course Amanda went along with the ponies on their mission. She did want to see her friends from Crossroads badly, but considered finding the missing elements of harmony and saving the world of Equestria a mission of higher priority. She had made some friends, and she was not going to let them down.

Applejack was strangely silent as they drove further to the north. Upon asking why, she said, “I just can’t believe that Filthy Rich keeps all of that open space for himself. It just ain’t fair! He should share it with everyone. I mean, everyone is already having a hard time, so why not do something back just for the sake of being a good pony?”

Twilight put a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Even I don’t know what goes around in Filthy’s head, Applejack.”

“Well, whatever it is, it ain’t kindness,” Applejack said.

Twilight couldn’t help but draw the same conclusion. Filthy Rich was not the new element of kindness.

The GPS started bleeping, indicating that they were approaching the target destination. A few miles further, they could see it too.

There, in the middle of a grassy plain, stood a walled town. The spires and ornate rooftops could be seen sticking out over the walls, giving away a hint of the nice houses they belonged to. Amanda decided to drive the tank a bit closer. She asked Twilight to stick her head out of the hatch, and wave a white flag, so the townsfolk wouldn’t panic.

So she did. Amanda drove towards the metal gate and turned off the engine. A moment later, a light brown mare with a grey mane and wise eyes peeked her head out of the fortified rampart, together with some more people. “Would you look at that,” she said, as she saw Twilight in the tank. It truly was a peculiar sight, seeing the princess of friendship in a vehicle made for war.

They all stepped out of the tank. Amanda didn’t wear her suit and mask, wanting to feel the warmth of the sun upon her skin for the first time since the bombs. It felt amazing.

Upon reaching the major, they shook hands and hooves. “Welcome to Maretown, elements of harmony,” Mayor Mare said.

When she saw the sideway glances from the ponies, Major Mare waved a hoof and smiled an awkward smile, as if the name embarrassed her. “The townsfolk said I should call it that, so I did.”

“Then they must surely love you very much,” Rarity said.

“Indeed they do, but I also love to see you all here. Let’s go inside and share a drink. I am dying to know what got you into this world.”

As the ponies followed, they couldn’t stop but notice how Mayor Mare hadn’t changed at all. She was still the relaxed, precise, cool-headed mayor she used to be. Maybe they all expected to see a darker version of her or something like that. But that was not so. They moved through the neighborhood, and let their eyes feast upon the beautiful villas. Each house had its own garden, just as Filthy Rich had described, with statues and fountains and other decorations. The lawns looked a healthy green, and they even saw some birds taking a bath in a marble bowl. It truly looked like a little paradise. If you forgot about the wall and the sentries for a second, you would think you traveled back in time, to a time before atomic bombs ruined America.

And there were people too. Men were strolling about, wearing casual clothing; jeans and shirts. There was not one protective suit to be seen. Children chased each other through the streets, women were working in the garden or making small talk, and some dogs barked in the distance.

A big, white mansion belonged to Mayor Mare. It was situated just at the end of the town’s main street, so every morning Mayor Mare could look upon the community she created. They went inside, and settled in the airy, richly decorated living room. Where Filthy Rich’s living room had seemed totally out of place, this living room felt as if it was where it was supposed to be. “You have some style, Mayor Mare,” Rarity said, as she sat down.

“Why thank you,” Mayor Mare said, returning from the kitchen with cups of tea.

Amanda looked at the steaming hot brew in total amazement. After all the long years of surviving, eating and drinking what was available and no more than necessary, the tea looked like a gift from God. She took her cup, smelled the sweet, hot vapors rising from it, and then looked at it some more.

Seeing Amanda staring at her tea, and totally misinterpreting that stare, Mayor Mare said, “Of course! Silly me. Let me get some biscuits too.”

That statement only added to the surreal feeling of this perfect house in this perfect neighborhood. But nevertheless, Mayor Mare returned with biscuits and put the tin down on the table.

“It’s like… like the war never happened here,” Amanda said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Mayor Mare smiled, and sat down herself. “It’s quite strange, isn’t it?”

“But how did it come to be this way?” Applejack asked. “You can’t just have stumbled on the village by chance, could you?”

The smile didn’t leave Mayor Mare’s face. “That is actually exactly what happened to me. But as for the other residents, no. Actually, many of these people are the original owners of the estates.”

“They’re survivors of the war?” Amanda said, her eyes as big as the saucers.

Mayor Mare nodded. “The people who live here joined forces and began to prepare. They stocked up on food, created an underground well with a water purifier, made makeshift farms, prefab walls, and they even managed to produce some solar-powered energy generators. Of course, all of them have some kind of homemade bunker or cellar beneath their houses.” She grabbed a biscuit and nibbled it. “I believe people used to think they were lunatics. They called them, ‘doomsday preppers,’ if I recall the term correctly.”

“Clever folks,” Applejack said.

Twilight took her cup and sipped some tea. For her, tea was a totally normal thing, and she could even recall the last time she had tea. It was in the hidden village in the Everfree Forest. “But, what happened to you, Mayor? How did you become, well, mayor?”

“They found me,” Mayor Mare said, closing her eyes and enjoying the happy memory. “Oh, they were so kind! They found me outside and took me in. They gave me food and water and a place to sleep. I still think I can never repay them for that. But, when I asked them who ran the place, they said no one. They had a council, where always everyone was present, and discussed important decisions there. Yet somehow, they never could get the things done they wanted. Somehow, there was always a certain amount of chaos in those meetings. When you have so many people with so many different opinions, making decisions is tough.

“When I got some strength back, I started to do things to repay them for their kindness. Those things mainly included settling disputes. I made peace where there was anger, and tried to defuse situations and prevent them from growing into a civil war. When everypony saw how good I was at that, they made me mayor. And since then I have been, well, managing things.”

“What a delightful story,” Rarity said.

“It is, isn’t it?” Mayor Mare said, picking up her cup and taking a sip. When she put the cup down again, she looked at everyone. “But how about you? How did you get into this world together?”

And so, for the third time, the ponies and Amanda told their stories. They told about the changelings here on Ground Zero, about the Russians and their daring escape, and about Filthy Rich.

When the subject of Filthy Rich became sliced, Mayor Mare’s smile turned upside down into a frown. She closed her eyes and facehoofed. “Oh no. Not this again…”

“I’m afraid so, Mayor,” Applejack said. “Filthy asked us to get you into selling your estates. But after seeing this place, I understand why you would want to keep it for yourself. It’s nice here.”

Mayor Mare raised a hoof. “But that is not the only reason why I want to keep Maretown free from all major powers here on Ground Zero. You see, I doubt if Filthy Rich would uphold the spirit of this wonderful neighborhood.”

Pinkie Pie jumped up, ready to panic. “The spirit?! Are there ghosts here?! Everypony, run for your lives!”

But before Pinkie could flee to someplace, Mayor Mare calmed her down. “Don’t worry, Pinkie. That’s not what I mean. I mean the unwritten law we uphold: ‘everypony—oh, I mean everybody gets a chance.’”

“How so?” Applejack asked.

Mayor Mare closed her eyes, as if she were swearing an oath. “I want to give everyone a chance to build a life here in Maretown. It doesn’t matter what they have done, how many they are, or how wealthy they are. If there is someone who wants to live a peaceful life far away from the horrors of the outside world, I will let them. If they have the right intentions, everybody could become our newest neighbor. There is plenty of room and resources for everyone.”

There was a silence after Mayor Mare’s words. Everypony gazed in awe at her. Amanda was the most surprised of them all. She had learned to trust no one on Ground Zero, because they might shoot you in the back and run off with your gear and food. But, will they have enough provisions… she thought. She knew that sooner or later, these peaceful citizens would have to go out to Ground Zero. But Amanda decided not to ask Mayor Mare that. Even if Maretown was just a bubble of happiness, ready to pop, Amanda would love to keep it intact as long as she could. What Mayor Mare said sounded like the nicest thing she had ever heard.

“Now I understand…” Twilight Sparkle said. “You can’t possibly sell this paradise to Filthy Rich. Surely he will keep it to himself, and not share it with the world like you do.”

“Yes…” Mayor Mare let out a deep, sorrow-filled sigh. “I really hope he won’t do anything against us, otherwise we will be fighting a war with two fronts very soon.”

“Two fronts?” Amanda asked, “you mean you have hostiles in the area?”

Once again, Mayor Mare sighed, as if the words were difficult to utter. “There is this group… It’s a group of bad people. They want Maretown for themselves. They look filthy and withered, but they are well-armed. And not only that; they want to drive us out of here! Of course I would let them in if they wanted, but I will not let them hurt my citizens. It is my duty as a mayor to keep them safe.”

“Raiders…” Amanda whispered.

Mayor Mare’s voice sounded on the edge of despair, as she resumed her tale. “This evening, there will be another council meeting, and the big question is: ‘will we run, or will we fight?’ That army could attack any moment now. They said they would launch an assault somewhere this week, if we don’t decide.”

“You should fight, obviously,” Applejack blurted out. “If you don’t fight, you’ll lose everything you’ve built.” She gritted her teeth. “I know what I would do if those bandits would threaten Sweet Apple Acres. I would fight till the last pony.”

Rarity snorted. “Oh, Applejack, please mind your manners! I’d say they should run, so they will stay out of harm’s way. Maybe they find a new spot and will be able to rebuild what has been lost.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Mayor Mare said, leaning in. “Personally, I would like to avoid any bloodshed, but I know that if we lose Maretown, we might lose its inhabitants too. The people living here aren’t used to the outside world. They aren’t ready. Celestia knows what will happen once they set foot onto Ground Zero.”

They mulled over those words for a while. The sun was already setting, and cast an orange glow into the living room, before disappearing altogether. Mayor Mare stood up and flicked a switch. Immediately, a decorative lamp sprung to life, illuminating the living room in a warm, cozy light.

“But I could help them,” Amanda said. “I could train them, lead them if necessary. I could teach them how to survive on Ground Zero.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, sweetheart,” Mayor Mare said. “I just hope the rest of the townsfolk is as open to new ideas as I am…”

The time to find out was now, because the sound of a ringing bell resounded through the windows.

“I take it that’s the sound of the council?” Applejack said.

Mayor Mare said nothing, but nodded. She knew this was going to be hard.

“But I say we fight for what’s ours!”

The man’s argument was backed up by a chorus of men’s voices. Some already held rifles in their hands.

“Please calm down, everypony—eh… everybody!” Mayor Mare called. “We have to keep our heads cool to make a calculated decision.”

The man, a broad shouldered guy with a red beard, raised his rifle in the air. “This is our decision!”

Once again, his followers roared.

“But it is not a decision everyone supports,” Mayor Mare said. She waved a hoof at the other group of people. They were children, women, some men, and even some elderly people. They didn’t want to fight. They were scared. Somebody, a man with blonde hair, stepped forward. “I say we run, to prevent them from slaughtering us.”

A loud “Boo,” came from the group who wanted to fight. “Aw come on, Peter, you wimp,” the red-bearded man said.

“You shouldn’t call me a wimp, Seamus,” Peter said. “Yes, we are scared, but for good reasons. I have seen their army when they made their threat last week. I have seen their heavy machine guns, mounted on their cars. I have seen how many they were. Hell, they will outnumber us five to one, I tell you.”

“Coward!” someone yelled from the group, and was immediately followed by a chorus of jeers.

Mayor Mare stomped her hoof on the wooden podium, demanding silence. When at last, after half a minute, she got what she wanted, she said, “I understand that the opinions are divided. So let’s sum up what we know. If we fight, we might encounter heavy resistance, so there is no guarantee we will win. But if we flee, then…” She paused, then looked at the floor. “Then I don’t know what we should do…”

“You see?” Seamus said, turning to his group of followers and declaring himself their leader. “Even the mayor is at a loss for words. Even she doesn’t know what to do. Even she sees that there is only one option. And we all know what option that is, don’t we?”

The men roared their approval, and accompanied their collective voice with stomping feet.

Mayor Mare looked back at the ponies and Amanda. But even they were unsure what to do.

Seamus once again threw an angry stare towards Peter. “I mean, have you not seen what we have? We have a trained sniper here”—he gestured at Amanda—“and we have a goddamn tank!”

“And do you think that’s going to turn the tides?” Peter retorted. “We’ll need a whole battalion of tanks if we want to stand a chance. I am not taking the risk. I want to live!”

Now the other group let loose a cheer for Peter’s words. He perfectly voiced their fears, worries, sorrows, and anxiety. He was already their leader, although he didn’t know it.

Seamus threw his hands in the air. “You know what, fuck it! If you and all the other scaredy cats want to run and cower, then do that. But know that we won’t cover your sorry backs!” When he was done talking, he spit on the ground.

Mayor Mare looked at the two sides. Her mind was working, trying tofind a solution through the forest of anger and fear. She thought she had something, but she already knew what direction this would head for. It was all she could do. “I call in a vote,” Mayor Mare said.

“Fine,” Seamus said, who thought that his group would be the bigger of the two.

“Fine,” Peter said, who also thought that his group would be the bigger of the two.

“Everyone who wants to go, raise your hands!”

They did so. Twilight Sparkle flew over them and counted hands. “Forty-seven,” she said to Mayor Mare, once she was done.

Mayor Mare swallowed. “Now, everyone who wants to fight, raise your—”

The fighters yelled and roared as they raised their hands. Some wanted to cheat by raising two, but Twilight Sparkle saw that. When she landed next to Mayor Mare, she whispered in her ear, “Sixty-three.”

It was decided. Mayor Mare felt herself stuttering, as she told the outcome. “I-i-it s-s-seems, that we will—”

A gunshot resounded, startling everybody. They knew that the raiders had come, even before they exited the house. The flame of battle sprang into the fighters’ hearts. They brandished their weapons and headed outside. But in the hearts of the other group was only fear, so they stayed behind and looked at Mayor Mare, their leader.

A voice, amplified by a megaphone, crackled into the house. “Mayor! Show yourself or we’ll open fire!”

Mayor Mare jumped up. She looked left and right. The ponies got her back.

“Rarity, Pinkie,” Twilight said, “stay behind with the group, and try to calm them down.”

“Not only that,” Pinkie said with a mock-salute, “but I will cheer them up as well!”

Despite the crisis situation, both Mayor Mare and Twilight actually managed a smile, before they hurried off with Applejack and Amanda.

The fighters had not been idle. From the moment the first threats were made by the raiders, they had set up lights everywhere, so they could see what they were doing. The ponies and Amanda hurried towards the sound of the voice, climbed the wall, and gazed upon the battlefield.

“Oh my sweet Celestia…”

Just a few hundred yards, the raiders looked upon Maretown. They were dimly lit in the moonlight, which reflected off the barrels of their guns. A couple of pick-up trucks drove around the village, no doubt planning on attacking from multiple sides. Giant machine guns stood on the back of each truck, black and deadly in the moon’s rays. There were also some strange installations not even Amanda had seen before. They most closely resembled medieval catapults, made from scraps of steel and mounted on trailers.

Amanda leveled a sniper rifle she had acquired before the meeting. Through the scope, she observed the enemy. “Oh my…”

“How many do you reckon there are down there?” Applejack said, gazing at the ranks with an open mouth.

“three hundred. Maybe more,” came Amanda’s reply.

The ever-so-optimistic Mayor Mare buried her head in her hooves, as she felt tears coming up. There was nothing she could do. No option presented itself. “We’re doomed.”

“Mayor!” the megaphone sounded. “We’re giving you one last chance to end this siege peacefully. Either you leave, or we’ll burn this place to the ground!” The car on which the man with the megaphone stood drove closer to the wall, so he could hear a reply. As he came closer, the ponies could see what he looked like. He wore an old soldier’s uniform, slightly tattered, but with medals still hanging proudly on his chest. He smiled as he arrived at the wall. The machine gun on the car took aim at Mayor Mare. “What will it be, mayor?”

Mayor Mare blinked her tears away, and stared at the raider leader. Her heart fluttered, as she realized that there was still a chance to end this the right way. She chose her words carefully. “Can’t we not resolve this peacefully? Is there no way we can live together? There is room enough for everyone.”

Chuckling, the raider leader eyed Mayor Mare and her friends. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of our situation. You see, we ran out of water and juice for the generators. We need more.”

“Then we will give you more, and you’ll stay away?” Twilight Sparkle said, trying a different approach.

“Oh, there is one thing I forgot to mention, that we also want,” the leader said, rubbing his hands. “This land.”

They didn’t need to ask why, but the raider still told them.

“There’s no radiation here, no poison in the air. Our gasmasks are crappy and almost useless. Our filters are running low. Here, we could build something, you know? But in order to build something new, something old must first be destroyed!” And he punched his hand to emphasize his words.

“But then y’all will be destroying your resources too,” Applejack said. “I mean, you will destroy that there solar generator, the farms, and the nice houses.”

The raider leader seemed to ponder over her words, but that was fake, because he knew damn well what he was going to say. “Yes, that would be a shame. And that’s why I offer you all a chance to leave in peace. But even if you don’t, don’t worry, because a land without radiation will also be worth the fight. Sometimes, you have to give and take.”

The raider’s voice had gained a sharp edge. Both Mayor Mare and Twilight Sparkle noticed the subtle hint. They were running out of time. Mayor Mare cleared her throat, trying to sound natural. Somehow, she knew that now was her last chance. She thought about the citizens of her town. “And if we won’t fight, you’ll let us go in peace?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the raider leader said, taking off his cap and making a small bow.

As the element of honesty, Applejack saw through the leader’s display. She immediately spotted the big, fat lie that hid behind his words and gestures.

Amanda also had doubts. She began to reason in her head. If the raiders would let them go, the Maretown citizens could always return with more power. Maybe the American army would help them to reclaim Maretown. She had doubted whether the raider knew that too. But after his bow and his words, Amanda knew for sure that he did.

Meanwhile, more and more men with guns gathered on top of the wall. Saemus was amongst them, holding a hunting rifle at the ready. The rest spread out, ready for any confrontation. The sound of boots on metal, the gathering of their fighting force, did nothing to diminish Mayor Mare’s nervousness. She only grew more worried.

The leader too, seemed to get more nervous upon seeing so many guns trained on him. He turned around, and said something to the machine gunner, softly so no one else could hear it.

Amanda clicked the safety off her gun. She could guess what the leader had said.

Slowly, the leader backed off, until he stood next to the machine gunner behind a metal shield. Only his head peeked out from the top of it. His eyes scanned the walls. “So, what’s it gonna be?” he asked, knowing that it was a rhetorical question.

Mayor Mare opened her mouth to say ‘we flee,’ but she was cut short by Seamus.

“WE FIGHT FOR MARETOWN! OPEN FIRE!”

The rifles of the Maretown militants barked, spitting lead towards the machine gunner and the raider leader. Of course, the leader ducked down just in time. Then, they unleashed the beast.

The heavy, armor piercing machine gun rumbled and roared, its bullets punching easily through the metal of the walls. The rightmost fighters had one second to realize their mistake. The leftmost hadn’t, as the gun swiveled from left to right, and mowed them down first.

Screams and yells, accompanied by the blood, filled the air. The heavy bullets shredded the fighter to pieces or punched holes in them through which you could see Maretown. One by one, the fighters jumped from the wall. Some made it, and some didn’t. Gore rained down upon the ones that bolted for cover.

“We gotta go. Now!” Twilight Sparkle yelled. “Hold me tight, everyone!”

They did so, and were surprised with a white flash. It wasn’t the flash of a gunshot, however, but the flash of Twilight’s teleportation magic. In the blink of an eye, they were inside the meeting house.

Amanda’s first reaction was bafflement at the magic, and then bafflement at what she saw. Everyone was gone.

“We really tried to calm them down,” Rarity said with despair in her eyes. “But they panicked and ran off. We simply couldn’t stop them.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said, “and I was so sure the rubber chicken thingy would do the trick…”

“We need to have a plan,” Mayor Mare said. “We can’t leave those people out there. We have to get them to safety!”

The tactician in Amanda’s head woke up. “But first we need a way out of here. Those pick up trucks are probably driving around, shooting wherever they can. If I can try to get into the Winter, I may be able to chase them away and guard the perimeter around Maretown—”

“So we can have a safe passage!” Mayor Mare said, finishing Amanda’s sentence.

“That’s right!” Amanda checked the load on her sniper rifle, then turned towards the mayor again. “I say we gather at the southern gate. That’s where I’ll stay with the winter.

Everypony nodded.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Applejack exclaimed, “let’s round them up!”

“Oh please, Applejack. They aren’t cattle,” Rarity said.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s GO!”

Just like the crowd of scared villagers, everypony ran off into a random direction. Only Rarity and Pinkie hesitated. Amanda headed for the Winter.

The streets were filled with rubble, bodies, and blood. Cries of help, sorrow, or terror filled the cool night air. Some of those machine guns were so powerful that they could shoot through the iron wall and straight into town. As Amanda ran towards the gate, she sometimes saw tiny holes appear in the sheet metal. Those bullets came from the pick up trucks, shooting where they could shoot. Death could come from any side.

Amanda reached the gate. She pressed the button. The gate slowly rose, but then stopped. Amanda had made a tiny, narrow slit, just wide enough to crawl through. With a little luck, the raiders wouldn’t see it, or got shot to pieces once they tried to wriggle themselves into Maretown. She stood up, and bolted off.

Applejack stayed together with Mayor Mare. They galloped through the streets, looking for movement. They ran upon empty streets, and they realized that there might just be no one left to save.

No! There was still someone. Cowering behind a brick wall was a man and a woman. Mayor and AJ bolted towards them.

“Follow me, y’all. Run to the gate!”

So they did. Hand in hand, they ran off in southern direction. Mayor Mare wanted to run with them, to make sure they would be safe. But of course, no one could stop the bullets from flying everywhere.

Or maybe Amanda could. She ran on. The Winter was close. She saw a big shadow moving in. It was the tank. But there was another shadow. As the clouds shifted, Amanda saw that it was a pick up truck with raiders. Apparently, they wanted to get into the tank. Amanda scoffed and crouched down. With a click of a button, the scope changed from its normal lenses to night-vision lenses. She could make out four figures.

BANG! There went the first.

“Hey! What the fuck was—”

BANG! There went the second.

“There’s a sniper somewh—”

BANG! There went the third.

“Oh shit, shit, shit!”

BANG! The last raider went down. All clear.

Amanda scanned the perimeter one last time, rushed towards the tank, and climbed in.

“Alright, scumbags,” she said, as she fired up the engine, “time for you all to see the power of the president.”

Twilight Sparkle briefly considered flying into the air to get a better view, but then decided that would be a good way to get killed. Even though she hadn’t been on Ground Zero for that long, she knew that humans had machines capable of killing from a far distance. So instead, she teleported.

Flashing from spot to spot, Twilight finally found some people. There was a whole group of them huddled together in a house, staying low and avoiding the windows.

“Everyone!” Twilight yelled, trying her best to be understandable above the screams of terror and the booming guns. “Head to the southern gate! There’s rescue on the way!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Everyone stood up, and headed towards the door. But a bullet got there first. The window exploded in a rain of glass. Three people went down, screaming and clutching towards their stomachs. One bullet had punched a hole in all three of them.

Everyone yelled and ran in blind panic. Twilight saw that some where going the wrong way. With a flash of magic, she was there and redirected them. She winced as she heard something whizzing close by her ear. It sounded like an oversized mosquito just rushed past her. The second bullet hit home.

The feeling as if someone put a hot iron upon her ear exploded in her head. Twilight yelled; the pain made her bend through the knees. Blood streamed down the side of her face. All sounds became weird, as she couldn’t use two ears anymore.

An enormous explosion filled the air, as Amanda pulled the trigger of the Winter’s gun. She decided to wait instead of drive around. She couldn’t drive and shoot the tank’s main gun at the same time, after all. No, she lay in an ambush, waiting for a pick up truck to show itself, and then BOOM!

She had taken two down already. And there came the third. She turned the barrel of the gun towards the vehicle. The raiders had probably spotted the tank too, as they tried to turn back.

“Not this time.”

Amanda pulled the trigger. The pick up truck exploded in a satisfying fireball.

“Job done.”

“Alright, Pinkie,” Rarity said, “we’re going to play a game.”

The insulated walls of the meeting house kept some of the lighter caliber gunshots soft, but the heavy, thundering booms from the machine guns could be heard loudly and clearly.

Pinkie jumped up and down. “Oh! I love games! Is it ‘guess the sound?’ Because I can hear a lot of thunder.”

“Eh… yes… thunder.” Rarity smiled forcefully. “No, we’re going to play hide and seek.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Pinkie said, still jumping up and down. “There are tons of places to hide in this town.”

“No!” Rarity yelled, as she saw Pinkie skipping to the door. “Eh… I mean… I will go and hide, while you stay here, close your eyes and ears, and count to one million.”

“One Million?” Pinkie said with a frown, “that doesn’t seem fair…”

“Oh, but it is,” Rarity said, her mind feverishly working on some reason. “Because… eh… I’m terrible at hide and seek, and need lots of time. Yes… that…”

“But I still think—”

“Pinkie, have you ever seen me playing hide and seek?”

Pinkie thought for a moment. “Nopie.”

“You want to know why? Because I’m terrible at it.”

“Hmm… that does explain you not playing the game…”

Rarity hoped with all her heart that her lie would work. She tried her best to smile. “Exactly, and that is why one million is more than fair.”

“Well, with all you have said, I think one million still isn’t fair…”

Rarity stood aghast. She had tried so hard!

“Because I’m sure you’ll be needing two million!”

Rarity sighed. Thank Celestia!

She walked over to Pinkie, and turned her around. “Now remember, Pinkie, cover your eyes and your ears, and whatever you do, don’t peek, agreed?”

“Hey! I’m not a cheater,” Pinkie exclaimed.

“Oh, eh… of course not,” Rarity said. “Now you be good and count, while I find a place to hide.”

“Okie dokie loki,” Pinkie said.

As Pinkie started counting, Rarity left the meeting house. Whatever was going on outside, she was sure not to let it ruin Pinkie Pie’s innocence.

Applejack and Mayor Mare were almost done checking the main streets. They had managed to rescue three more families, and were now meeting up at the ramp to the wall. The wall was as ridden with holes as cheese. Mayor Mare and Applejack both looked up at the rampart, but there was nothing left of the fighting group. Just bodies. Lots of bodies.

Mayor Mare shook her head. Tears clouded her vision. “They had no idea what they were dealing with. I hope their souls find rest.”

“Me too,” Applejack said.

The two ponies stopped to listen for a while. The screams seemed to have stopped, and even the sound of gunshots became less and less frequent. They both knew what that meant. The battle was lost.

But the raiders weren’t done with them yet. As they listened, Applejack and Mayor Mare heard a strange, splashing sound. And then another. And another. Then one of the projectiles landed right in front of Applejack, spilling the contents upon her forehooves.

“Water balloons?”

Many more wet splashing sounds were heard, as more water balloons flew over the barricades, hitting houses, streets, and gardens.

Applejack bent down, as she noticed something. “Huh? That stuff smells funny. Whatever it is, it ain’t water.”

Then the torches came. Cries of laughter could be heard through the peppered wall, as the raiders flung burning torches and balls of fire over the rampart and upon the town. Sometimes the fiery payloads missed their targets, and lay down on the ground, burning harmlessly. But more often than not, they struck the gasoline sprayed all over Maretown, and the unlucky buildings burst into flames.

“Holy hay!” Applejack exclaimed, as one of the torches landed in the garden mere hoofsteps away from her. The soaked grass immediately caught fire. Flames danced. “That one almost hit me.”

Faster than Applejack could follow, the fire sprung into the pool beneath her hooves. She withdrew her hooves just in time, before the puddle in front of her transformed into a blaze. She still didn’t know what was in the balloons, but whatever it was, it was flammable.”

“We gotta get outta here!” Applejack shouted. “The whole place’s gonna burn to the ground!”

But Mayor Mare didn’t agree. “No, we have to keep looking around! There could still be people here!”

As if on cue, more people appeared, but they weren’t the kind of people Mayor Mare had in mind.

Under a chorus of battle cries, shouts, and everything in between, raiders jumped from the wall and spread out. Already there was a group forming and charging towards Applejack and Mayor Mare. There was no time to argue. They had to run.

“I’m so sorry, everyone,” Mayor Mare said as they galloped away. She couldn’t see where she was going, because tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

BOOM!

Another truck jumped into the air in a haze of fire.

“Yes!” Amanda said, but as she glanced backwards, she uttered a cry. “No!”

There were no more shells left. She had taken down a lot of pick up trucks already, and hoped that this one would be the last. The only thing she could use now was the machine gun at the front of the tank. She scooted into the driver’s seat, and kept her eyes on the area.

Already there were many people running out of the gate. They ran to the south, in the opposite direction the raiders came from. Amanda silently wondered how long they would last without suits and gasmasks, but forced her mind to think of something else.

Suddenly, the colors orange and grey appeared before her. She opened the hatch to let Applejack and Mayor Mare in.

“There’s raiders in town!” Applejack said. “They’re everywhere.”

“Good to know,” Amanda said, and turned the tank around, so that its barrels faced the southern gate.

Blood ran over Twilight’s right eye, so she kept it closed. She heard shouts all around her. Twilight galloped in the direction the sound was not coming from. From the profanities and jeers, she judged the sound meant raiders. Of course, she was right.

She bumped into something, or rather, someone.

“Fucking hell, what is that?!”

A magical energy blast to the face is what the raider got for his swears. Even though the pain left it hard for Twilight to concentrate, she could still perform such a basic spell.

Something white appeared. It ran towards Twilight. She charged another bolt of magical energy, ready to unleash it on the incoming color.

“Twilight! What happened to you?!”

Twilight let the bolt loose. It flew up straight into the air like an emergency flare from a flare gun. She moaned, and fell through her knees once more.

“Oh my!” Rarity said, “your ear… it’s gone!” She supported her friend, trying to keep her standing. “Twilight, there’s filthy men all over the place. We have to go now!”

Twilight could understand about twenty percent of Rarity’s words. He head swam, while pain flowed from the left to the right like a sea full of spiky balls.

Grabbing Twilight’s head with her hooves, Rarity shouted, “Twilight! We have to get out of here!”

“Hey guys! Look at that!”

The raider looked at the two ponies with wide eyes. He had never seen such a strange thing; two colored horses in a burning village.

Another group of raiders was coming in from another road. Then another from behind. They all charged on ahead, wielding guns or knives or other makeshift weapons. A shot from a rifle resounded.

Crumbles of rock sprang in the air, as the bullet landed mere inches from where Twilight lay. “Twilight! You have to teleport me into the meeting house. You simply must!”

Twilight saw some grey and brown advancing, and heard more gunshots. She wrapped her hooves around Rarity, and focused. She did her best to forget about the searing pain in her head, and focus instead on the place she wanted to be. The wood, the pointy roof, the podium; she tried to remember it all.

More gunshots sounded. The rocks next to Rarity jumped and scattered. She yelled, closed her eyes, and hugged Twilight tightly. It was all she could do.

A second later, she heard the echo of her yell.

But the outside world doesn’t echo.

When Rarity opened her eyes, she saw the interior of the meeting house. It was undamaged by the fire, and Rarity silently thanked Celestia for that.

And there, in a corner, Pinkie Pie was still counting.

“two thousand two hundred and thirty-five”

“Two thousand two hundred and thirty-six.”

“Two thousand two hundred and thirty-seven.”

“Two thousand two hundred and—”

Rarity grabbed Pinkie Pie by the shoulders and turned her around. “You won, Pinkie. Now, stay close to Twilight, because she is going to get us out of here.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow to Rarity’s panic-stricken tone. But she complied.

“To the tank…” Twilight said. She felt as if her head weighed nothing. The pain dominated her mind and her thoughts. If only she could make it stop. But she couldn’t. She had to concentrate. They had to get to the Winter. Just one more teleportation spell.

Just… one… more…

Twilight closed her eyes. She could hear a door opening, but it wasn’t the hatch of the tank.

“Hey, look! Horses!”

Twilight thought about the steel of the tank, the small interior, the big gun.

“What are they doing?”

Twilight tried to recall who was in the tank.

“How the fuck would I know? Hugging? Meditating? Napping?

Amanda! Amanda is in the tank.

“Boss said no survivors. Better safe than sorry.”

The click of guns.

Magic swirled around them, seeping from Twilight’s horn. Twilight fought through the dense jungle of pain. Slowly, with all the effort in the world, their figures started to fade.

“Shoot them now!”

The sound of the barking sub machine gun still rang in Rarity’s ears, as she felt the cold steel against her flank.

They were in the Winter. They were safe.

Chapter seventeen: a shaman and a shock

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There was surprisingly little in Triggerhoof’s head.

He knew he was dreaming, with a strange clarity unusual for dreams. The pain was gone. Triggerhoof was floating in a dark void. One by one, memories, thoughts, and wishes floated by.

He saw his squad, the Heat Seekers, fiercely engaged in battle. Their guns roared as they stood their ground, defending something Triggerhoof couldn’t see. He wanted to join them in their fight, stand side by side and do what he was meant to do in this world. But as he reached out to grab the memory in his hooves, it faded away like a droplet of water in a still pond. Instead, something else floated into view.

He saw marble walls and beautiful, purple spires. He was in Canterlot. From the angle of his perspective, Trigg concluded that he was lying on the ground. He gazed upwards, into a glowing cloud, pulsing with energy. When he turned his head to the left and the right, he saw some strange ponies stand next to him. One was a burly stallion with a moustache, holding his hoof and telling him to be strong. The other was a mare who looked so worried, she was about to burst into tears. And the third pony was a pegasus with a rainbow mane and tail, busy crafting something he couldn’t see.

“Who are you? What are you doing with me?” Trigg said, but the only answer he got was the echo of his own voice.

Triggerhoof noticed that he felt relaxed. There was a strange sense of peace in his head, as if he knew everything would be alright, before he went on a long journey. He was ready to go. Slowly, his eyes closed.

But they shot open as he felt the energy. A bolt of wild magic surged like a white-hot river through his body. There was white everywhere. Trigg yelled in horror. “What is happening!”

And so, he woke up with a scream. Instantly, everything was gone. The ponies, the energy bolt. Everything gone. Instead of the searing white rays of light, there was green around him. Green, black and white.

“Lay down your head once more, for your body will still feel sore.”

There was a mare, no, a zebra, standing beside the bed Trigg was lying on. He felt the leaves brush against his back, as he took in his surroundings. His head still felt a bit woozy, but despite that, he wanted to be in control of the situation, whatever it was. Suddenly, a vile flashback shot like a lightning bolt through his mind. With a cry of pain, Trigg reached for his head. He squirmed around, trying to escape the pain.

“It is as I said, you should stay in bed,” the zebra said. She moved closer to Triggerhoof. “Now allow me to do my mojo, and make that nasty pain go.”

But Triggerhoof didn’t want that. He wanted to go back to Democracity, serve the American military, and try to resolve the upcoming rebellion. But he was in no position to want anything. First, he wanted the pain to go away.

The zebra started singing in a strange language. The tones were ominous, low, but soothing to the ears. They wrapped around Triggerhoof’s body, gently swaying it back and forth, as if he were a baby lying in a cradle. Like a dispersing mist, the pain retreated from Triggerhoof’s head. He felt the hooves of the zebra tapping on his head. The zebra traced circles, or other shapes and symbols, all the while singing her song. A certain freshness found its way into Triggerhoof’s head, swiping away the remaining flashes of pain. Then it began to spread over his whole body like swirling vapors, chasing away all the tiredness and weariness gathered since the changeling attack on the Heat Seekers.

The zebra seemed to be done. She stopped singing and stepped back, watching Triggerhoof with a doctor’s eye.

Trigg never felt better, but he was still possibly in dangerous territory. Time for action! With one jump, he sprang off the bed. Then he could do another jump, before hitting an invisible wall with his nose. “Ouch! What the fuck?!”

The zebra eyed Triggerhoof, and stepped closer until their noses almost bumped together. Triggerhoof wanted to grab her, overpower her, force her down on the ground, and demand some answers. Yet, he couldn’t put a single hoof in front of the other.

The zebra pointed towards the ground. “I was sure to create some protection, as I didn’t know about your reaction. There is a circle on the ground, to which you are bound.”

Triggerhoof followed the zebra’s hoof. Indeed, there was a circle made with purple-colored sand all around the bed. So much for controlling the situation. The zebra controlled him. Trigg felt the rage burning, but knew he had to keep his head cool. He didn’t waste his time, and instead took in the surroundings and his enemy.

It seemed to be some kind of hut. The circular room was made of clay and dirt, hollowed out in some places to allow for vials and bottles to stand there. The roof was made of leaves, woven together to create a big surface.

The zebra frowned. “I see you’re watching the place I call home, but I still don’t like your tone,” she said. “My name is Zecora, you silly fool. And now I want to know your name too.”

Triggerhoof didn’t like being called a ‘silly fool,’ and he would be sure to keep his name a secret. He watched the zebra closely, looking for any motion that might give away an attack. Zecora had a mohawk-style mane, and had many golden rings through her ears and around her neck. She truly looked outlandish. And why did she always speak in rhyme? “My name doesn’t matter. What matters is why I am here, and where the hell here is.”

Zecora tilted her head. With every minute that passed, she regretted her decision to save the pony more and more. “You are in the forest, where men often tread. I saved you from the changelings. You were hurt real bad. I brought you here and healed you, so you should be grateful too. You see, I think we are fighting a common enemy.”

Still, Triggerhoof wasn’t sure, but he remembered something. Just before he had passed out, he had noticed something. “How did you save me?” he said, although he could guess how.

“With ingredients from a long list, I created a potion that conjures up a mist. I distracted the changeling, until it was far away, and then dragged you here at the end of the day.”

That was right. Triggerhoof had seen a mist, and Zecora described the mist. That meant she was speaking the truth. Triggerhoof’s scowl grew less and less harsh. Slowly, it changed into a look of surprise. “I suppose I should thank you, then. You are speaking the truth, as far as I know.”

“I didn’t lie, and I didn’t let you die,” Zecora said. “Your fellow soldiers didn’t survive, yet I could manage to keep you alive.”

Triggerhoof cursed at the loss of a second squad. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he jinxed military missions, turning them into suicide squads. But Zecora was right. She did save his life, and she hated the changelings. Although he remained vigilant, he also stuck out his hoof. “Name’s Triggerhoof, or Trigg for short.”

Zecora clopped her hoof against Trigg’s. “Well met, Triggerhoof.” She looked at the circle on the ground. “Now let me get rid of this with a poof.”

Zecora uttered a string of strange, high sounds. When she clapped her hooves together, the sand evaporated with a poof, and rose in the air as vapors. Triggerhoof watched them travel to the roof. “Nice.”

“I know many spells and tricks, through the potions that I mix. I studied this world’s mojo, ‘radiation,’ for a long time, but don’t worry; you’ll be fine.”

Then, Triggerhoof realized what she meant. “Oh shit!” He wasn’t wearing his suit, and his gasmask was also gone. A surge of panic traveled through his body at highway-speed. He tensed, and flashed his eyes from side to side, looking for his gear.

Zecora waved a hoof in the air. “Don’t worry, my patient. I made a potion that protects you against radiation.” She held up a large bottle. “I have already given you a drink, so about radiation you don’t have to think.”

But Triggerhoof was unsure. He had never heard of magical potions that made you immune to radiation. Nevertheless, he had witnessed Zecora’s healing magic and her circle of sand first-hoof. It had worked, so why should this not work? Still, he asked, “Are you sure?”

Zecora smiled. “You don’t need to fear. If it hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t be here.”

She had a point. Trigg nodded, and kept his eyes on the bottle. “Maybe I should get some more. You know, better safe than sorry.”

Chuckling, Zecora said, “You are funny, little pony. But I assure you, my drink isn’t phony.”

“Oh, ok.”

Zecora turned around, and opened a wooden door. “Now get out of my lair and breathe some fresh air. There’s no need to rush, but also know that there are important matters to be discussed.”

Trigg followed her outside and watched his surroundings. Zecora’s hut stood in a clearing in the forest. But even though there were few trees here, the other trees still cast their leaf crowns over the clearing, making it feel like one big room. There were some unfinished pieces of weaving work lying around, and a small fireplace was constructed too. Next to it stood several bowls of water. Triggerhoof swallowed. He was thirsty. He trotted towards one of the bowls.

Suddenly, Zecora cried out and raised a hoof. “Triggerhoof! That’s something you might not want to do, gazing in the water pool!”

But Trigg had already reached the bowl. “What’s the matter, it’s just water, right?” Trigg bent down to take a sip, but then jumped at the sight of the other pony in the bowl. “Holy shit!”

A horrible scar ran from his ear to his cheeks, and all the way down to his neck. Blotches of dead skin, burn marks, and blisters covered much of the side of his face. Triggerhoof moved his head around; the pony in the water did the same. There was no doubt, this was his reflection. Slowly, he reached up with his hoof and touched the seared skin. To his astonishment, it didn’t hurt.

Zecora walked towards him and let out a sigh. “I was able to sing away the pain, but I couldn’t take away this unfortunate gain. Alas, your face will never be the same.”

Once again, Trigg touched his face, and moved his head from the left to the right, looking at his scars from every angle. He had no idea which angle offered the most gruesome view. He truly looked like a pony from hell. With a jerk, he tore his gaze away from the water. Zecora jolted at the sudden movement. “Whatever,” Trigg said, and walked the other way, as if he could walk away from his new appearance.

“I saw the changeling feed on you,” Zecora said, following Trigg. “But against that, I didn’t know what to do. Whatever it did, it did it quick, and it made you very sick. I saw you squirming, plagued by dreams. They were of an evil kind, it seems. I didn’t know what to do, and I fear your memories will be lost to you.”

Trigg stopped, and looked at the ground, taking in Zecora’s words. He tried to think, to remember, but his head felt kind of drowsy, as if his mind lay underneath a blanket. He tried and tried to remember, but the earliest thought that came to mind was the battle against the changelings, and that was not a memory he was happy to recall. He tried to think back to his childhood, his parents—if he had any—and his friends. When he couldn’t manage to conjure up their faces, he tried to think about Equestria, and what he liked to do, hobbies. Nothing came to mind.

But there must be something…

Suddenly, Trigg kicked at the dirt and turned around. His breathing was heavy, and he clenched his teeth together. For a moment, Zecora truly felt afraid.

“It doesn’t matter,” Trigg snapped. “What matters is what’s happening now, and what will happen later on. Nothing else matters.”

But Zecora didn’t agree. “That is not what I would say, scolding and swearing though you may. You never know when you need thoughts of the past, however long they last.”

Trigg’s muscles tensed. He bit back an urge to shout at the zebra, but kept himself in check—barely. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine without my memories.” He paused, snorted, and said, “Now what important matters do we need to talk about? You mentioned that before.”

Zecora moved back to the door. “Indeed I did, come back inside. Then I will bring some matters to the light.”

So they did. Triggerhoof sat down, while Zecora took a quick peek inside a bubbling cauldron. The liquid that was in it swirled black and white, just like her stripes. “What is that?” Trigg asked.

“It is an all-seeing brew I made, and I am sure it will reveal your fate. I can see wide and far, and witness the terrible war. Mankind will destroy one another, but I don’t think I will bother. Because through the brew and the trance, I could see four little ponies searching for their friends.”

Triggerhoof raised an eyebrow. “Wait, how can you see that in a drink?”

Zecora beckoned Trigg to stand up, and let him take a peek in the cauldron too. “As I have told you before, I studied radiation, but there’s more. Wherever it may be, if there’s radiation, I can see.”

After healing chants, a circle of protection, and a magical anti-radiation potion, Triggerhoof had no trouble accepting Zecora’s ‘all-seeing brew.’ “So you’re saying you can look wherever radiation is?”

Zecora nodded. “At those spots I can take a quick peek. Not only that, but also wherever there’s a lot of magic. When Twilight and her friends arrived, I could follow their strive. I saw them meeting you, back then you didn’t know what to do. But now I tell you, your fate is bound to the four mares you found. You must help them in any way. So, Triggerhoof, what do you say?”

Trigg heard it all, and tried to make sense of it. “I have to help them? Those mares?”

“Whatever brought them here I don’t know, but they must have a mission or so.”

Trigg thought for a moment. At least his meeting with the elements of harmony was something he could recall. “Yes… yes they had a mission. They wanted to search for a mare. I can’t recall a name… They said she had a rainbow-colored mane and tail.”

But Zecora knew what he meant. “Ah, of Rainbow Dash you speak. I guess it is her they seek.”

“Yeah, that’s it. They were looking for her, and also for another element of harmony.” Trigg scoffed. “Heh, they were talking about defeating Chrysalis and the changeling army. Well, good luck with that.”

Zecora was undaunted by Trigg’s verbal irony. She faced him, and stood up straighter. “No! You must help them. Then they can—”

“But why should I?” Trigg snapped. “It’s not as if I am a fucking element of harmony, right? Besides, they were looking for kindness, and I don’t know if you noticed, but I am a soldier, a killer. I’ve killed more reds and raiders than there’s scales on a dragon. I’m no element of kindness!”

Zecora closed her eyes and nodded calmly. “Of that I am sure, but that doesn’t mean you can’t help them find him or her.”

“But still, why should I?”

Zecora let out a sigh. She turned around, and tapped the cauldron twice with her hoof. “I’ve noticed that the number of changelings in the forest grows, they are becoming mighty foes. In the crater I can see. There’s much radiation, so nothing stays hidden from me. Come, take a look—but don’t be spooked.”

Triggerhoof stepped closer. He craned his neck, and looked into the swirling black and white of the all-seeing brew.

At first there was nothing, just a haze of colors. But then, the colors began to change. They grew green and black and brown, nasty colors. The colors stretched out, becoming angular. Something came into view. Trigg racked his mind about it. Had he seen this object before? Yes, he had! He saw it when he flew from Crossroads to Democracity. There was a lonely building in the Aurora crater, about which he had wondered why it still stood. It was the same shape as the structure in the brew.

Slowly, gradually, the picture sharpened. Trigg could see other, tinier specks moving all around it. He even heard sounds, the skittering of wings. That was a sound he knew all too well.

“Changelings.”

“Yes, Triggerhoof, you are right. They are changelings, and will become a great blight.”

Trigg looked deeper into the cauldron, and then he knew what he saw.

“The hive!”

Changelings flew everywhere, disappearing through holes in the hive, carrying things for their queen. They were working like ants in an anthill, except that these insects brought greater harm to the world than tiny ants. Triggerhoof winced at their screeching and slithering. He had had two encounters with them, and was definitely not eager to meet them again. Trigg looked at Zecora. “They are here? In this world? In the Aurora crater?”

“Yes, yes, and yes. Even in this world, they are becoming a pest. Look! Their queen can be seen.”

Indeed, when Triggerhoof turned his attention back to the cauldron, he saw Queen Chrysalis, standing erect upon a small platform. She watched her minions work and train and fight. Even though her back was turned to them, Triggerhoof knew she was smiling a content smile, maybe even a smile filled with pride, as she witnessed her creation.

“They are so many,” Trigg said. “They will overrun any compound, no matter how big it is. Ground Zero will be destroyed a second time—by changelings!”

Zecora nodded. “They are looking for Twilight Sparkle and her friends too. But look! Something else appears in the brew.”

The colors faded out. They came together, bubbled for a second, and then turned red. But there was something else too. A yellow hammer and sickle, a symbol Triggerhoof despised with all his heart.

“Reds!”

An enormous base came into view. It was built around a huge bunker, which protruded out of the ground. Many weapons of war could be seen. There were battalions and battalions of soldiers, heavy machineguns, anti-aircraft missiles, helicopters, and even a couple of tanks like the Winter. But instead of the American stars and stripes, the yellow hammer and sickle adorned their sides.

Zecora frowned. “Ah! One of the major powers, I see. Well, I say, let them be. Let’s not meddle in their affairs. Their burden we don’t need to bear.”

But as Zecora turned away from her brew, Triggerhoof kept standing, gazing spellbound at the image. His eyes went as wide as the diameter of the cauldron. “This must be their home base in the state,” he said. “Or maybe their biggest home base in America. Who knows?”

Zecora walked towards a table and continued making a potion she had been working on. “I don’t. I don’t care why or with how many they’re there.”

The image faded, but before it did, Triggerhoof saw something interesting. To the far left, there was a green line. Trigg thought they were trees. When the vision was gone, and the brew regained its original colors, Trigg said, “That red base, is it close by? I saw trees.”

“Yes, it is close by, but if you go there, you will die,” Zecora said. The tone of her voice indicated that she didn’t want to talk about it any longer. “But more important matters are at hand. You must help Twilight and her friends and save this land.”

“No,” Triggerhoof said, and stomped on the ground.

Zecora turned around slowly. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you care about the changeling threat? They need a soldier, a killer, to make them dead. You know the way of these lands. Your skills and virtues might be very important!”

There was a silence. Triggerhoof thought. He did feel the fire of vengeance burning within his soul, eager to escape the pony and incinerate the changelings. They had wiped out his squad, killed everyone. They had to pay.

But the reds…

No matter what happened, Triggerhoof was a soldier. He had pledged his allegiance to America, and now he gained some valuable intel. Not doing something with it, letting it go to waste, was an act of treason in Trigg’s patriotic eyes. He was in total doubt, wondering who deserved his bullets most; changelings or communists.

Triggerhoof kept thinking, deciding. He thought and he thought, racking his brain for some way to deliver his wrath to both enemies. Trigg hated to choose, so that’s why he said, “Yes. I will go and help the elements of harmony.”

Zecora’s eyes went wide. She was actually surprised. But then, she smiled. “A wise decision. You chose the better mission.”

But Trigg wasn’t done yet. He raised a hoof in the air. “If you show me that base first.”

“What?!” Zecora jumped up and threw an angry stare at the scarred stallion. “But time is of the essence! The elements of harmony will require your presence. And on top of that, the changelings are rapidly multiplying. Right now, as we speak, people and ponies are dying. We have to move quick and fast, while this world lasts.”

Trigg’s muscles tensed. He stood firm. “No. You show me the communist base, and I will help the elements. Take it or leave it.”

By the looks of him, Zecora knew there was no bargaining with Triggerhoof. She closed her eyes as if she were in pain, and let out a long sigh with an edge of irritation. “Fine,” she said harshly. “If you really want to go to that place, then follow me, and I’ll take you to the communist base.”

A hint of a smile appeared on Triggerhoof’s stubbled and scarred muzzle. He always loved a victory, no matter how small.

Together they moved through the forest. Triggerhoof had an easy time, as he didn’t need to wear his thick, lead-lined protective suit. He could gallop, jump over bushes and brambles, use his wings to create even larger jumps, and could almost keep up with Zecora. Zecora was even faster. She hop-skip-jumped through the forest, leaving the trees flashing by in a green haze. If they were really going to the communist base, she reckoned they might just do it quickly, and get it over with.

“So where are the elements anyway? Do you have a location for me?” Triggerhoof asked.

“I’m afraid I lost sight,” Zecora said. “The last I saw of them was at the changeling fight. I also saw how you met them after the strife. You should be more thankful to ponies and zebras saving your life.”

Triggerhoof ignored that comment, and galloped onwards. He estimated the time and distance they had rushed along. Perhaps half an hour? It didn’t matter. Soon, the exact location of the compound would be revealed to him, and he could take the intel back to the American base, back to Admiral Montgomery. Triggerhoof already imagined the face of the admiral upon seeing what he brought back home. At least the disastrous ‘hunt’ hadn’t been for nothing.

They galloped up a large hill, and then dived back into the foliage. Only a couple hundred meters further, they saw something peculiar. Stumps were scattered all around, with loads of sawdust and sometimes even a log or two close by. Trigg knew they were getting close. Obviously the Russians had utilized the forest to gather building material or so. Trigg didn’t care. They were close, and that was what mattered.

Then the forest opened up, and Triggerhoof could see the faint glow of the moon through the permanent cloud cover. A few hundred yards further, they came upon the tree line. And then Triggerhoof saw it.

Down in a valley, the red base lay. It looked even bigger than the base Triggerhoof had seen in the brew. The rumble of heavy engines filled the valley, and when Trigg looked, he could see four battle tanks driving towards the gate in tight formation. Upon seeing them, Triggerhoof doubted what he found more amazing, the tanks or the helicopters.

When the tanks had retreated, another strange sound echoed around. “Look, another mean machine,” Zecora said, pointing to the sky. The lights of the helicopter shone, as it neared the base. The sound of the rotors became louder and louder. Trigg looked at the display with an open mouth. The helicopter hovered above the compound. The sound of its rotors became almost deafening, as it descended. But Trigg didn’t cover his ears as Zecora did. To him, the sound was beautiful music.

The helicopter touched down, and switched off its lights. As the pilot opened the door of the helicopter, a small group of men walked towards it. One of them unfurled a hose which led to a huge fuel container, ready to fuel the helicopter up for its next mission. Triggerhoof didn’t stop staring at the mighty machine until the rotors came to a complete standstill, much to Zecora’s annoyance. Once she thought she could make herself understandable, she called, “Have you seen what you wanted to see? Can we go and leave them be?”

Zecora’s shout brought Triggerhoof from weapon Walhalla back to Ground Zero. He threw her an angry stare. “Yes. Hold on for just a moment.” He searched in his pack and drew out the GPS unit. He put the coordinates into it, so when he returned, Admiral Montgomery would have the exact location of the communist base. In his mind, Triggerhoof was already thinking about various strategies they could utilize to launch an attack on the base. He and the admiral just needed to find a way to get through the forest without the whole army becoming slaughtered by changelings. Otherwise, it might become guerrilla warfare, the nightmare of every military commander.

Zecora watched as Triggerhoof fiddled with the tiny box. It let out a few bleeps, and then Trigg shut it down. He grabbed his pack, and put the thing in it. “Alright, just one more thing I should check,” he said, digging in his backpack. “Where is… Oh shit! Please tell me… NO!” Triggerhoof flung his pack against a tree stump.

“What is all the fuss?” Zecora said. “Why all the cuss?”

“I forgot the fucking Geiger counter,” Triggerhoof snarled. “How on Earth did I forget my Geiger counter?! We’re on Ground Zero, for fuck’s sake!”

Zecora put a hoof on Trigg’s, but he quickly withdrew his. “Come on, Triggerhoof, don’t be sad. It isn’t that bad. I can tell you what you need to know; the radiation levels aren’t exactly low. There is so much radiation there, more than I have seen anywhere. Except in the crater, where you will go later. Those communists are mad to stay at this place, yet why did they choose this location to build their base?”

Triggerhoof tapped his hoof against his scarred muzzle. The rage retreated from his mind, allowing him to think. “Yes, that makes sense. I mean, if there wouldn’t be any radiation, you wouldn’t be able to see them with your brew.” But Zecora’s second question remained unanswered.

Why the hell would they build their base in such a radiation pit?

Suddenly, like the bright flash that brought him to earth, an idea flared up in Trigg’s mind. He trotted back towards the backpack, and began gathering his stuff together. Luckily, he hadn’t forgotten to bring binoculars. He crouched down next to Zecora, and peered through it.

He could see the troops marching with their gasmasks and their suits on. They must be changing the guard or so. It didn’t matter, because Triggerhoof was looking at something else. He was looking at the warning signs.

There were warning signs everywhere, that portrayed the ‘danger! Radiation’ symbol; a dot with three cones around it, black on yellow. The signs looked weathered, and therefore Triggerhoof concluded that they must have been there before the reds took over the bunker. Triggerhoof’s heart pounded in his chest, as he searched for more warning signs.

And then he saw it. Right there, illuminated by a spotlight, was a white sign, warning the employees to be careful, don’t smoke, wear eye protection, etcetera.

Triggerhoof’s breath caught in his throat. He jolted. A shiver went through his body, making his muscles quiver.

Zecora saw Trigg’s reaction. “What is it that you see? Or do you need to pee?”

“It’s a missile silo,” Trigg said, more to himself than to Zecora. “They’ve taken it over and built their base around it.”

Zecora tilted her head. “Does it matter much, if they have such—”

“Of course it matters!” Triggerhoof called out. “The radiation means that there are still missiles in that fucking silo. If they have skilled technicians, they can launch them and make them strike anywhere they want. As soon as they figure out where Democracity is… Or when they figure out where the American home base is… Or when they figure out where President Winter is…”

Triggerhoof turned around. He moved so abruptly that Zecora stared at him. Now he was the one who had haste. “This information has to reach the admiral as soon as possible. We have to launch an assault—immediately. We have to make sure we capture or destroy that base before those damn communists find a way to launch those missiles—period.”

And so, Triggerhoof’s joy at finding out the location of his enemy turned into cold, hard worry. He didn’t look back at Zecora, but charged into the forest.

When they reached Zecora’s hut, Triggerhoof immediately began gathering his stuff. He grabbed the backpack, his Geiger counter, his suit and mask, and then he searched for his weapons. He couldn’t find them. “Zecora! Where are my weapons!” he shouted.

Zecora came to a halt, and took a moment to catch her breath. When she saw the angry stare Triggerhoof threw at her—anger mixed with a healthy dose of panic— she said, “Of weapons I know nothing, my dear, unless you were the one who brought them here.”

“FUCK!”

Triggerhoof stomped the wall of Zecora’s house. The zebra winced, and hoped that he hadn’t smashed a hole in the wall. She let him vent his anger for a while. When the red stallion sat down in defeat, Zecora walked up to him.

“That bloody changeling disarmed me,” he began to explain, his voice still bearing traces of anger. “It disarmed me, and my guns flew into the forest somewhere. I thought you might have found them.” He let out a sigh. “There’s no way I’m gonna find them in the vegetation and plants and whatnot.”

Zecora remained silent. She wanted Triggerhoof to completely calm down.

Suddenly, he spoke up. “How long have I been here, Zecora?”

“It wasn’t for that long, a day or two, I reckon,” Zecora said. “Or maybe more, I’m not so sure.”

“Alright.” Triggerhoof stood up, and walked over to his pack. He knew the way back might be dangerous without a weapon, but he thought that maybe he could use the cover of night to sneak through the forest, however much he hated stealth missions.

Meanwhile, Zecora entered her house, and searched for some things herself. When she reemerged with something in her mouth, Triggerhoof was already at the edge of the clearing, with his back to her. Zecora quickly caught up with him, and laid the bundle on the ground. “This has helped to keep me safe. Maybe you too, can use it to defeat a changeling wave.”

Triggerhoof unfurled his wing, and used his feathers to pick up the bundle. It wasn’t heavy at all. Maybe it was a small knife or a machete. But, much to his surprise, it turned out to be a bow and arrow.

“Wow,” Trigg said. “But… a bow? I don’t know how to shoot. Hell, I have never even grabbed a bow before.”

But as he said that, he somehow felt that something was not right. He felt as if he were lying. The bow felt so light and supple in his hooves. The feeling seemed familiar, but Trigg just couldn’t place it. As far as he could remember, he had never, ever, fired an arrow with a bow, let alone kill someone with it.

He grabbed the quiver with arrows, and took one out. It had a tip made of flint, quite sharp to the touch. He frowned upon seeing the primitiveness of his new ‘arsenal.’

Zecora nodded. “This will pierce straight through a changeling’s hide, and help you win the fight. Trust me, I’ve used it once before, when there were changelings at my door.”

Triggerhoof knew he had to say something nice now. Nothing complicated surfaced in his mind, so he said simply, “Thank you.”

Sticking out a hoof, Zecora said, “I can’t say you were a pleasant guest, yet I hope you will complete your important quest. Do you promise, do you swear, that you will seek out the mares?”

Triggerhoof returned the hoofshake. “I will,” he said, and he meant it. He wanted to see the changelings gone as much as Zecora, and if that meant helping the elements of harmony with whatever they were going to do, then so be it. “But, what about you?”

Zecora was actually surprised. She thought Triggerhoof would simply forget about her, focused as he was on his new mission and on himself. “What do you mean, ‘what about me?’ I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.”

“No, I mean, what will happen to you? Don’t you want to go back to Equestria when those crazy mares actually complete their suicide mission?”

Zecora thought about that for a moment, then she said, “I am certain they will come back for me. You just have to tell them where I am; that’s the key.”

Triggerhoof nodded. “I will. I have already put your location in the GPS.”

“Then there is nothing more for me to say. I wish you good luck on your way.”

Triggerhoof made a soldier’s salute. Then, he slung the bow over his shoulders, strapped on the quiver with arrows, and stepped into the forest.

Despite the cursing, raging, gruff soldier Triggerhoof was, Zecora kept standing and waving as the forest slowly swallowed him whole. Then she returned to her home, hoping, guessing, wishing.

Chapter eighteen: two surprises

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Triggerhoof knew something was wrong even before he left the forest.

He hadn’t encountered a single changeling on his way, much to his surprise. While he had remained careful and tried his best to keep the sound of his hoofsteps low, he had the feeling that for some reason the enemy had retreated. Of course he was also glad because of that. He didn’t want to run into a changeling unarmed—especially the armored ones with the big wings and spiked horns.

And now, there were strange sounds. It looked as if the battle of the hunting party against the changelings never ended. There were screams in the distance and gunshots, muffled a bit by the forest’s dense vegetation. Trigg winced as a picture of that horrible battle crashed into his mind. It wasn’t a battle; it was a goddamn slaughter!

He moved on, twice as fast as before. Wherever there were gunshots, there were people, Americans, and possibly trouble. He tried to run as fast as he could in his protective suit. His Geiger counter had already started clicking. Despite the fact that he would still be immune to radiation for a few hours, he didn’t take any chance. His panting breath sounded through the filters like a diver’s rebreather. He jumped over a fallen log, dashed through some shrubs, and emerged from the forest.

In front of him was the barren plain separating Democracity from the forest. But Trigg wasn’t looking at that. He stood rooted to the ground, as he fumbled in his backpack for his binoculars. He jammed them in front of his eyes.

“Oh shit!”

There were muzzle flashes of guns. There were calls, cries for help, and high-pitched screeches. The sounds left an icy impression on Trigg’s heart. Changelings were everywhere, flying over the base, searching for prey. There were a few armored ones too, who seemed to command the others. Whenever they pointed at something, a group of changelings flew towards it. Usually, that gesture was answered with a cry of agony.

Triggerhoof tossed the binoculars in his pack, and bolted off. He wanted to face the problem head-on, kill the changelings and get his friends out of there. But then he paused, as he realized how stupid he was. If he galloped over the plain, the changelings might see him and attack. And of course, that’s exactly what happened.

A pair of changelings fluttered down. Triggerhoof saw them coming. He barely had enough time to string his bow—it was all he could do. His idea was to wait for the changelings to charge at him, so he could hit them at point-blank range. He knew he didn’t have the skill to shoot them down from afar, let alone in the air.

With a thud, the changelings landed. Like wolves, they advanced on their prey, hissing and waving their tongues.

With his wing, Trigg nocked an arrow inconspicuously, and hoped the changelings were dumber than he was. Just a few steps closer…

One of the changelings bent through its knees, ready to jump on the pegasus pony.

Here goes nothing…

In one fluent motion, Triggerhoof drew the bow, and let the arrow fly. The changeling tumbled backwards, with an arrow through its heart.

“Holy shit!” That was something Triggerhoof hadn’t expected. Suddenly, the feeling he had felt when Zecora gave him the bow returned in his heart. But now it was twice as strong as before. Quickly, Triggerhoof turned that pleasant surprise into confidence, and reached back with his wing to grab a new arrow. Apparently, he was a natural.

But the other changeling proved to be smarter than its comrade. It turned around and zipped up into the air.

“Oh no you don’t!” Triggerhoof reared upon his hind legs, drew the bow with the tip of his feathers, and shot.

With a gratifying thud, the changeling landed on the ground, with an arrow into the back of its head.

If he weren’t in crisis, Triggerhoof would smile. He didn’t waste one second, retrieved his arrows, and moved on. He played it smarter this time, as he kept to the withered and dried-out bushes, creeping closer to Democracity. He stayed out of the searchlights, and moved from bush to bush, until he came face to face with the metal wall.

Slowly and silently, Trigg flapped his wings and landed on the rampart of the wall. As he cast his gaze onto the scene below, he saw just what catastrophe had unfolded here.

There were bodies everywhere; soldiers, scientists, men, women, everyone. But they weren’t just bodies; they looked dried up and hollowed out from the inside. Triggerhoof remembered how the changeling had sucked all life out of Simon, and left behind an empty shell of a corpse. There were some dead changelings too, but by far not as many as there were people. Trigg could see traces of battle. There were bullet cases on the ground. The ground and the walls were splattered with blood. But the battle was already over, and the winners were the changelings.

It was then that Triggerhoof realized he was too late. He should have left Zecora behind sooner. Maybe he could have made a difference, save hundreds of his fellow Americans. He could have saved General Johansson and Doctor Goodman too. And even if they would still have lost, Triggerhoof would at least die side by side with his fellow countrymen—his fellow soldiers—and die a worthy death. He scolded himself over and over again. Now he was the one who felt hollow inside. He felt like a coward and a weakling. He should have bested that armored changeling and return to Democracity asap. Now, he witnessed first-hoof what his delay had cost him.

The screech of rusted metal hinges resounded, drawing Trigg’s attention from the horror spectacle to the door of the main building of the nuclear reactor. One by one, people were seeping out of it, their hands above their heads and their faces downcast. The changeling commander, a huge monster in black-and-red armor, barked a command towards them. The people started lining up on the blood-soaked terrain.

Trigg’s heart skipped a beat, and cold sweat clouded his vision for a moment, as he saw who came out of the door and lined up like the rest; Doctor John Goodman and General Erik Johansson.

They took a position in the middle of the growing group of people. There were about two dozen of them now. The last person was the pony, Miss Harshwhinny, behind whom a group of changelings marched. And then the flow stopped. No more men or women or scientists or soldiers came through the door. Triggerhoof glanced at the group. Besides Johansson and Goodman and Miss Harshwhinny, there was no one he recognized. He gritted his teeth, as he realized the bastards had killed Admiral Montgomery too.

The leader of the changelings landed on the ground, furling its massive wings. With big strides, it stepped over towards the group and eyed them. Triggerhoof saw that its mouth was moving. However much he hated that murdering beast, he wanted to know what it had to say. But Trigg also didn’t want to leave the high ground; that would be a tactical error. He could sneak to the left, closer to the scene, but there was a changeling there. That didn’t matter. He trotted towards the changeling and grabbed him by the head. With one swift motion, he broke the creature’s neck and threw him off the other side of the wall. Trigg winced. Why did his neck have to make so much noise?

But the changeling leader hadn’t noticed Trigg’s swift kill. He kept talking. As he spoke, the changelings landed and stood by his side, with the armored ones at the front. There were easily two hundred of them. Triggerhoof sidled closer to the edge of the rampart, and listened.

“…One more time. We require the immediate location of a pegasus by the name of Rainbow Dash. She is sky-blue…” But then the changeling looked up in the sky, and saw the grey curtain hiding the stars from sight. “I mean… just blue! She’s blue with a rainbow mane and tail. We want her, and her friends too, for that matter. You already have a pony amongst you, and where there’s one, there are most certainly more.”

One of the few soldiers that survived, holding a blood-soaked rag to his side, answered the changeling. “We don’t know her and we don’t have her.”

The changeling turned around, swiping the man’s feet from under him with his tail. He fell down and grimaced in pain. “That is exactly what I expected you to say,” the changeling said. “You want to hide the ponies and protect them. You all know they are important, as together they form the elements of harmony.”

No one spoke. Everyone kept his gaze low. They realized that they were not going to get out of this alive. No one had a clue what the changeling was talking about. There was no one who had seen the My Little Pony television show.

The changeling tensed. It puffed out its broad chest. “Fine! You want to play it that way? You think I am not insistent enough? I will show you what insistent means.”

He unfurled one of his shimmering wings, wrapped it around a man in the front of the group, and pulled him closer. There was no way for him to escape, as the powerful wings held him fast. Triggerhoof knew what was going to happen next. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to watch.

The changeling opened its mouth. Immediately, the green ray appeared, and the man’s positive memories and love got sucked out of his body. In the blink of an eye, the changeling was done with that. But then the beam turned red. The man yelled and screamed and squirmed in agony. When the changeling was finished, he unfurled his wings, and the carcass of the man, as dried-out as a tomato in the sun, slumped to the ground.

Everybody’s gaze was now aimed at the commander of the changelings. One woman scientist even began to cry. Maybe the man had been her husband, or a friend. A woman next to her let her lean on her shoulder and sob.

Even from this distance, Triggerhoof could see the grin on the changeling’s face. Triggerhoof growled. He squeezed his bow in his wings.

The changeling took a deep breath, tasting the life he had taken with his magic. When he looked at the crowd again, he bared his teeth. “I liked that. I hope you liked it too, because I will do it again to a random person if you don’t tell me the location of Rainbow Dash soon.”

Triggerhoof knew he was serious. He had to do something now. Of course, he could try to shoot the changeling commander. But what if he missed? And besides that, even if the commander would drop dead, there were one hundred and ninety-nine other changelings who could be equally deadly. No, Triggerhoof needed a plan.

He quickly dropped his bow and his bag, and took inventory. Out of his bag, he pulled: one set of binoculars, spare filters, a compass, a Geiger counter, some paracord, a fire starting kit, a grey tarpaulin for making basic shelters, spare clips with bullets and shells for his lost weapons, a knife, and a roughly drawn map of the area he had pieced together last minute. That was it. With those things, he had to come up with a clever plan to get them out. Naturally, Trigg had no idea what to do.

The changeling walked forwards. It was as if he divided the sea, as the people got out of his way. When he reached the back of the group, he stuck out his wing, and grabbed Doctor Goodman.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! “Think, Triggerhoof, think!” Trigg rubbed his temples with his hooves, as if he could speed up the thinking process some way. Panic took hold on his heart. He looked from his stuff to Doctor Goodman; from Doctor Goodman to his stuff. Trigg hated to get creative. He much rather dealt with his problems head-on and simply, preferably with a loud weapon.

Loud… something loud… a distraction!

That was a step in the right direction. But where was he going to get something loud enough to distract the changelings? He just wished he had something loud at hoof, but he had nothing. He gazed once again at the scene below.

The changeling leader held Doctor Goodman tightly. His glasses fell to the ground. The changeling was ready to feed.

Triggerhoof wished he had something that made a lot of noise, like a grenade launcher. He kept his eyes on Goodman. But suddenly, something happened. A man, standing at the front of the group, bolted off and sprinted towards the gate. He charged right into the wall of changelings, trying to punch and fight his way through. He got about a quarter of the way there, when the changeling leader reacted. He dropped Doctor Goodman, turned around, and spit.

The sticky saliva caught the man by the hand. With a jerk of his head, the changeling pulled him closer. The man fell to the ground, tried to get up, but then fell down again.

The changeling casually walked towards the man, looked down upon him for a second or two, and then grabbed him with his wings instead.

That bought Triggerhoof time. And not only that. Thanks to the display he got some inspiration. He remembered that the gate was operated by a winch system, using counterweights to hoist the metal sheet up. Triggerhoof looked closely to the mechanism. The hatch was already open, and he could see the knob for the release. Once pressed, the counterweights would fall down, and the gate would open very slowly. But that would be too slowly. The distance between the group and the gate was big, and Triggerhoof knew that when they waited for the gate to open, the changelings would have a lot of opportunity to slaughter everyone. He was the one who had to open the gate.

But still, if he could manage to hit that button—which was like hitting a flying fly—and the gate would open, then there were still two hundred changelings to fight through. The two dozen people would never make that. No, Triggerhoof still needed that distraction.

In wild panic, his eyes shot all over the courtyard. There were anti-aircraft missiles, the changelings, the people, the gate, a heap of guns the changelings had collected, more changelings, a fuel depot, and the helicopters.

Triggerhoof kept his eyes on the helicopters. It looked as if one of them, the one closest to the wall, had been refueling. But the man who was supposed to do that job never got it done. The hose was out of the helicopter’s fuel tank, with a splash of gasoline on the ground, which dripped from the fuel tank.

And there was Triggerhoof’s distraction.

He turned towards his magazine, and pressed out a bullet. Taking the bullet between his teeth, he pulled it off and poured out the gunpowder. Then he grabbed his backpack, and used his knife to slice off a bit of fabric. He just hoped that the fabric of his backpack was flammable…

A loud scream interrupted Triggerhoof. He looked at the changeling, as he dropped the carcass to the ground with a wet thud. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, you get another chance to tell me where Rainbow Dash and her friends are. Are you going to tell me, or should I kill this man anyway?” He pointed at Goodman.

Damn! Triggerhoof kept working as fast as he could.

The crowd was silent. They had no idea if speaking was a wise thing to do. They really didn’t know where the ponies were, but they knew the changeling wouldn’t appreciate such an answer. Silently they dispersed, as the changeling walked towards Doctor Goodman.

Trigg was almost done. Just a few more minutes…

The changeling smiled, as he folded his wings around Goodman. The man kept shaking and shaking. But he also prayed. He didn’t take his eyes off the sky, folded his hands, and whispered his prayers to God. He knew he was going to meet him soon.

He didn’t know it, but he had just given Triggerhoof the minutes he desperately needed.

The changeling opened his mouth, but not to feed. Instead, he spoke, curious as he was at Doctor Goodman’s strange behavior. “Do you have something to say to me?” he asked, his fangs mere inches from Goodman’s nose.

“I-I-I have something to s-s-say to God,” Goodman said, his voice trembling.

“And what is that? ‘God?’” the changeling said. He sounded more curious than angry this time.

“H-h-he is my savior. H-h-he will help me.”

The changeling let out a deep, throaty sound, which could be taken as laughter. “Ha! As you can see, there is no one who will help you. Not even the human you call ‘God.’ You are alone, you are powerless, and you are mine!”

Goodman once again folded his hands together. “God, my Lord, receive my soul. Be merciful…”

But God had to wait for Goodman. Something whistled, and then found its mark. Flames sprang from the small puddle at the helicopter, ignited the fumes coming out of the fuel tank, and jumped into it. A split-second later, the helicopter exploded with an enormous bang and an enormous fireball. The changelings that stood close by were instantly incinerated, and some more cried out in pain as burning shrapnel shredded their pitted hides.

The changeling leader dropped Goodman, shot his eyes at the fireball, and shouted orders. “Everyone! Split up. There are hostiles in the area. Find them, and bring them to me!”

Immediately, two hundred changelings took to the sky, flew up high, and scanned their surroundings.

But Triggerhoof wasn’t done yet. Slowly he rose, so that the grey tarpaulin wouldn’t slide off of him. He had secretly hoped that the changelings would fly high, and they did. They were so high, that they couldn’t make out the grey of the tarp and the grey of the metal walls. He still had the element of surprise, and he was not going to waste his extra seconds. He nocked another arrow, prayed for his unusual bow skills to help him, and let it loose.

The target was like hitting a snowflake in a blizzard. But still, the arrow went where it was supposed to go. With a metallic clang! The arrow blunted itself against the button. Slowly, the gate crawled up.

“RUN, YOU FUCKERS! RUN!” Triggerhoof yelled, as he threw off his tarp. Now the changelings in the air could see him, but he didn’t care. He knew where his next arrow went.

Before the changeling leader even had time to call for a regroup, he was staring with one eye at the shaft of an arrow, as it pierced his right eye and turned his brains into scrambled egg. The changeling stood stiff, rocked back and forth, and then clattered to the ground.

The remaining people bolted for the door. They crawled underneath the narrow slit, and spread out over the plains. They all ran into different directions. Some north, some south, some east, some west.

For a few precious minutes, the changelings stood aghast. Had somepony actually managed to kill their leader with a single shot? The answer was ‘yes,’ but they themselves didn’t have an answer yet. One hundred and ninety-nine changelings without a leader looked at each other. What to do? Some swooped down and started finding people to feed on, and were quickly followed by others. But there was also a small group of armored changelings who did realize what killed their leader. They dived down, heading for the red spot on the wall.

Jumping down, Trigg went to the door too, until he spotted Johansson and Goodman. Together theyran.

“My God, Raspberry Trick! It’s you!” Goodman said between panting breaths.

“Yes, it’s me,” Triggerhoof snapped, “now run for your fucking lives and talk later!”

“I like that idea,” Johansson said. Then he exchanged a smile with Trigg. They were once again comrades in arms.

They sprinted across the plain, searching for some kind of cover. Heading west, they made for a ruined town.

Trigg heard a familiar whizzing sound. He looked up, and saw two changelings dive like eagles towards them. He paused, took out two arrows, nocked them, and fired. This better work.

And it did. One changeling was killed; the other lost its wing and crash-landed into the ground. Trigg shouldered his bow and caught up with his comrades.

Just a few hundred yards. Already, buildings could be seen—or what was left of them. Soon they ran upon a road, rushing through the town and trying to find somewhere to lay low. Trigg looked at the sky. There were no changelings. But still he could hear screams and the sound of insectoid wings. They weren’t safe yet.

Suddenly, another ominous sound required Trigg’s attention. His Geiger counter clicked. The needle was in orange. Despite the suit, Trigg found himself breathing with increased difficulty. Fear tried to take hold of his body.

Flapping his wings, Trigg took to the sky, to get a better picture of the surroundings. He wasn’t happy with what he saw. Judging by the radiation and the state of the ruined buildings, Trigg concluded that this town must have been hit pretty hard with the nukes. There were so little roofs left on the buildings, and the buildings that were less damaged were miles away. And when Trigg turned around, he saw that there were already changelings flying over some parts of the town, wearing red armor.

And to top it off, Goodman and Johansson didn’t have suits.

“We have to get underground. NOW!” Triggerhoof yelled. He knew that the changelings used the metro to breed and multiply their numbers, but now, the radiation and the fact that they could be spotted any minute, made deciding very easy.

To their right, a little square opened up, with stairs leading down into the metro. They dived in, and became surrounded—not by changelings, but by darkness.

“So how on God’s precious Earth did you do it?” Goodman asked Trigg.

They were walking through a dark, dusty tunnel. The only source of light they had came from the flashlight that hung by Trigg’s side. But still, it was better than nothing. And, the radiation levels dropped significantly. Theoretically speaking, it was still risky to walk without protection, so they strolled through the empty tunnels, hoping to find a ‘safe’ spot with less radiation where they could wait out the changeling assault, and then maybe go up on Ground Zero again.

“Did what?” Trigg asked.

“Making the helicopter go boom, and… and the gate… It looked as if the thing opened itself.”

“Yeah, actually I’m interested in your tactics too,” Johansson said.

Trigg snorted. He didn’t like to boast. He just said it with the low, gruff voice with which he always stated things. “Arrows. I pried open one of my machine gun cartridges, sprinkled the gunpowder on a piece of cloth from my pack which I bound to the arrow with the paracord I had. I lit it, and then it was just a matter of twang and boom.”

Johansson clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, you have earned my respect once again, for the hundredth time.”

“Yes, well done, Raspberry,” Goodman said, stroking his mane.

Trigg shook the hand off his head. “Please just call me Triggerhoof, doc. I don’t even know what you mean with that other name.”

“Triggerhoof… such a nasty name…” Goodman said, softly enough so the pony couldn’t hear it. “But, Trick, what happened to your face?” Even though Goodman walked next to Trigg on his ‘good side,’ he had noticed the scars on the other side of his face.

“Changeling,” Trigg said. “One of the stronger ones, with the armor and stuff. They can cast magic. It’s like someone holds a white-hot flatiron against your face. But thanks to the zebra, it doesn’t even hurt.”

Goodman jolted. “A zebra?! Zecora?”

Triggerhoof arched his eyebrow. “I guess you have seen her in your girly show, haven’t you?”

“It’s not just for girls,” Goodman retorted. “And yes, I have seen her in My Little Pony. It pains my heart to know she is here on Ground Zero too. How is she?”

“Holding out for now,” Trigg said. But Doctor Goodman was not satisfied with that answer, and soon Trigg found himself telling everything that happened in the forest, back when the hunting mission went terribly wrong.

“Wow!” Johansson exclaimed, “so you have found the location of the reds’ main base in the state?”

Trigg nodded. “I’m not sure if it’s the biggest in the state, but it’s certainly big. And they are sitting with their asses on nukes.”

“What?!”

“You heard me right.” Trigg let out a sigh, which ended in a growl. “It’s just a shame we don’t have an army with which to mow them down.”

Johansson sighed too. “That it is, but we’ll find a way, I hope. There must be other, smaller compounds of the American military.”

“But the reds had tanks and helicopters and anti-aircraft missiles.”

“Fuck.”

They walked onwards in silence for a time. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps against the arched concrete wall. They followed a set of train tracks, in the hope of finding a good place to stay and plan out what to do next. Neither of them had any idea. They didn’t have an army to join, they didn’t have a way to kill communists, and they didn’t even have a clue about where the hell they were. The only thing they had were themselves and some weapons. Johansson held an assault rifle in his hands. He had been quick, and snatched it away when the changelings were still distracted by the explosion. Doctor Goodman hadn’t even thought about getting a weapon, yet the general had been so kind as to give him his 9mm pistol. A small sidearm, but, just like the small flashlight, better than nothing.

And so they were alone with their thoughts. They needed something, anything. The soldiers, Johansson and Triggerhoof, needed some kind of mission. They needed some kind of goal. Walking aimlessly through empty metro tunnels felt so… useless. Silently, they promised themselves that, if the radiation levels allowed it, they would get out of the metro at the next station. They all looked forward to that.

Luckily, they didn’t encounter any strange membranes or spittle or any sign of changelings. Triggerhoof thereby concluded that the changelings either hadn’t discovered this line yet, or that they found their hive a much more pleasant place to stay. Triggerhoof couldn’t blame them. Who on Earth would want to live underground, in the dark, wandering the tunnels forever? Only idiots.

Either that, or…

Or the changelings were afraid of something. Triggerhoof had once taken a peek inside Andrei’s Metro novel when he was away. There was one advice in it that he always remembered. If a tunnel has loads of rats, cockroaches, and other vermin, it meant that everything was safe. You should be worried when there are none of those creatures around… Ominous words, but then again, according to the book there were monsters and mutated animals living on the surface, creeping into the metro to terrorize the brave survivors within. Bullshit, Trigg thought. He whisked the thought away.

Step by step they advanced, wishing to arrive at a station and some way up onto Ground Zero. According to Trigg’s Geiger counter, the radiation levels were almost zero, so that meant they were moving further and further away from the epicenter of the nuclear blast. From the damage Trigg had seen, it had been an aerial detonation. But actually he didn’t care. He just wanted to get the hay out of the metro. Something was not right in the tunnels, and it put Trigg on edge. He wasn’t scared; he was just cautious. He kept his bow and arrow between his wings with an arrow nocked, just to be sure.

Finally, Doctor Goodman couldn’t bear the silence and the creepy tunnel any longer. “Do you think we’re almost—”

“Hold!”

They stopped at Johansson’s command. “What’s wrong?” Trigg said. But then he heard it. There were sounds coming from up ahead, amplified by the tunnel’s echo. His ears swiveled around. “You think it’s people?”

“I think we should be on guard,” Johansson said, pulling back the bolt of his automatic.

“B-b-but they could be friendly, right?” Goodman said.

Trigg scoffed. “Since when is anything on Ground Zero ‘friendly?’”

Goodman let out a sigh. “Always expecting the worst of people…”

“But it helped me stay alive,” Trigg retorted.

“Me too,” Johansson added.

Goodman threw his hands in the air. “I give up.” He didn’t reach for his gun, still trying to prove a point.

As they rounded the next curve, they saw light. In the distance, someone had set up electrical lamps, as the light didn’t flicker like fire. Slowly, they advanced.

“Hold it right there! Not a step further,” someone cried out. Suddenly, they bathed in light.

Before either of the soldiers could take control of the situation, Goodman spoke up. “We come in peace. Please, we mean no one harm.”

“You can prove that by putting your weapons on the ground and walk towards us,” the voice said. It was a rough voice, probably a soldier, Goodman thought. But he couldn’t see anything with the bright lights shining in his eyes.

Goodman took his pistol and laid it down on the ground. But Trigg and Johansson didn’t follow Goodman’s example. They exchanged a glance. “What do you think?” Trigg whispered.

Johansson shrugged. He had no idea if the people ahead were a possible threat.

There was the threatening click of a safety catch. “Last chance. Put down your weapons or we’ll shoot.”

Trigg looked around. There was nowhere to take cover. If they didn’t do what those voices told them to do, this godforsaken metro tunnel could become their grave. At least we’ll already be underground, Trigg thought, saves them the effort of burying us.

Trigg’s bow clattered to the floor, followed by Johansson’s machine gun. “We’re unarmed!” Johansson shouted. They proceeded, until they were behind the searchlights. The lights turned out to belong to a machine gun nest, with a heap of sandbags and one big machine gun resting on top of them, with its barrel to the tunnel. Four men stood watch.

“What are you? Traders, soldiers, survivors?” one of them said. He looked intently at Trigg and Johansson and Goodman, as if he were an art critic watching an ugly painting.

Goodman stepped forward and extended a hand. He thought politeness was going to do the trick. “My name is John Goodman, I am a doctor. And these are my two friends, and yes, they are survivors.”

“Survivors? I’m a goddamn soldier,” Trigg said with a snort.

The man returned the handshake, looking in amazement at the doctor. He obviously hadn’t expected such a friendly reply, after he had threatened him mere minutes ago. Instantly, his nervousness about these strange people evaporated. “I’m sorry for the rough entry, Doctor Goodman. We have to be careful, you see?”

“I completely understand,” Goodman said. “And my friends do too.”

Triggerhoof didn’t, but he wisely kept his mouth shut, and let Goodman handle things.

“So, do you have a community here?” Goodman said.

“You’re here in Tracktown, doc,” a different guard said.

At such a peculiar name, Goodman arched his eyebrows. “Tracktown?”

The first guard turned around. “Come. I will take you to our leader. He always loves to see friendly faces here in this fucked-up world. And I think he will show great interest in another pony at his doorstep.”

“Certainly,” Goodman said, and he waved to his friends. “Shall we?”

Tracktown proved to be exactly as the name suggested. It was a town on the tracks. The guard, Goodman, Triggerhoof, and Johansson entered a service tunnel, walked up a set of concrete stairs, and then stepped out onto the platform of a station. But it wasn’t just a station. On either side, there was a train, illuminated in the gloom. The seats had been torn out, and there were people in there too. Through the window, Triggerhoof could spot entire families with children in them. Goodman looked at it all with his mouth open. “Wow!”

“Yeah, we live in the carriages, and hold a market on the platform every day,” the guard said. “If you’re lucky you can still find some traders willing to do business at this ungodly hour.”

The place smelled weird. Triggerhoof snorted and tried to find the source of the smell. Someone was baking something somewhere. At once, Triggerhoof felt his stomach bite. “I hope there are still traders, because I am bloody hungry.” He already did a few steps towards the source of the scent.

“But Raspberry, I think we should stay together, and meet the leader first,” Goodman said.

Grumbling, Trigg complied, and they moved on together. They followed their guide, strolling over the marble platform. Once, the marble would have been shiny and white, yet now it was dusty and stained at some places. They were obviously heading towards a little maintenance area up ahead, and Triggerhoof reckoned that was where their leader would be. The light coming out of the train carriages was more than enough to illuminate the way. There were some people around, and they looked quite relaxed. They leaned against the carriages, showed things to one another, or just made small talk. The relaxed ambiance felt alien to Triggerhoof. Something kept bothering him. “Where do you get power?” Trigg asked.

“There’s a huge generator at another station,” the guard answered. “And if you go even further you will find places closer to Ground Zero, where the tunnel has collapsed and light shines through. That’s where we have our farms. They are doing quite well up there. And, the radiation levels aren’t too high.”

Doctor Goodman looked at the guard with silent admiration. “Well, you have certainly built yourselves a wonderful little land, Mister…”

“Jim,” the guard said. “Yeah, it’s nice. It’s just that we are dealing with problems of our own. Raiders and bandits, but sometimes even worse, changelings.”

Triggerhoof wasn’t surprised. “They’re sieging you?”

Jim waved a hand. “In a certain way, yes. Despite the gravity of the situation, there’s a funny story behind them. You see, the children who used to watch the My Little Pony television show recognized them first, so we took over the name. They can be aggressive, but they do realize that we have guns. We’re kind of in a constant standoff, with no party attacking the other.”

“Where are they coming from?” Trigg asked, although he already knew the answer.

“From the south,” Jim said, “from the direction of the Aurora crater. I guess they have some sort of home base there. Apparently, they can deal with radiation much more easily than we can.”

Johansson perked up, and slowed his pace. “Wait, it goes that far? The metro?”

“Oh yeah. I reckon much of the metro system of Aurora city is still intact. Of course, there is lots of radiation there, but still, in theory, you could go anyplace you want through the metro tunnels.”

“Thanks,” Johansson said. “That’s some valuable information.”

Jim shrugged. “Hey, don’t mention it. I actually like talking to strangers a lot. It’s always handy to know something about the—” but Jim’s conversation was cut short, as a cry resounded over the platform. It came from the metro carriages. Jim quickly turned around, and trained his gun on the door of the metro carriage. But then he lowered it, as he saw who came running like crazy towards them. “What’s wrong, Carrey?”

“Nothing is wrong! My little Raspberry! I can’t believe it! My sweet little Raspberry Trick!” Carrey charged right into the group of men, and threw her hooves around Triggerhoof. She held him as tight as a snake, and then kissed her son on his stubble-covered muzzle. When about a dozen kisses were given, Carrey turned her head around. “Block, come see this! Our little Raspberry is back!”

But Triggerhoof was not in the mood for yet another crazy pony. With a shift of his weight and a twist, he escaped the mare’s embrace. He tried to be polite, however crazy the mare was. “I’m sorry miss, but who are you?”

Carrey chuckled. It was a nervous chuckle, filled with uncertainty. But she knew for sure it was her son, even though he bore a terrible scar. “Raspberry, it’s me. It’s your mother.”

Out of the metro carriage, another pony, a stallion, got up on the platform. He too, galloped towards Trigg, but this time Trigg was ready. As soon as the burly stallion reached Triggerhoof, he whirled aside. The stallion smacked nose-first into the opposite carriage.

“I don’t know you either, sir,” Trigg said, “and I don’t like it when someone charges at me.”

Building Block now saw three Raspberry Tricks. He rubbed his muzzle and his head, and then walked towards his son. “Raspberry, you’re my son. How can you not remember? We were with you when that lightning bolt struck us. We thought we had lost you.”

Carrey drove back the urge to hug her son once again. Instead, she reached out a hoof to examine his scar. Trigg did a step back. “I’m sorry, madam, sir, but we really should get going. We need some supplies, and we need a way out of the metro.”

“But… B-b-but…” Carrey felt tears well up in her eyes. What had happened to her Raspberry Trick? “But you should stay here, with us, with your family.”

“You wouldn’t leave us now that we’re finally together, right?” Building Block said.

Triggerhoof let out a grunt. “There is no together. I… don’t… know… you. It’s as simple as that. The fact that you are also ponies doesn’t mean we are related.”

Desperation taking hold of him, Building Block tried a different approach. “But please, son, think real deep. Try to remember what happened that day with the changeling attack. Or remember another, happier memory with us. Just try.”

Shrugging, Trigg said, “No. I want to go meet whoever runs this place, get some food, get a direction to follow, and go.”

A small tear pearled on Carrey’s cheek. “But… Raspberry…”

“That’s not even my name,” Trigg said. “It’s Triggerhoof, and I never had a different name.”

Doctor Goodman, who had stood idly by, stroking his chin, intervened. “No, Trigg. Your real name is ‘Raspberry Trick.’ That’s what you told me when I found you. You told me you were teleported out of Equestria somehow, and I found you and kept you safe.”

Now Triggerhoof was really confused. His parents watched him with hopeful glares. “I know you found me and raised me, doc, but I have no idea what this ‘Equestria’ is. I was born here, on Ground fucking Zero.”

“No, that’s not true, Raspberry,” Doctor Goodman said. He spoke to him as if he were a stubborn child. “Now be a good pony and do what your parents ask you to do. Try to recall them.”

Trigg stomped his hoof on the ground. “Fine! If it means we’ll get rid of these lunatics and get some grub soon, then I agree.” He closed his eyes, and began digging in his memories. Of course, the Heat Seekers stood on a golden pedestal, right in the middle of his chamber of memories in his mind. Who else was there? General Johansson, of course, the man who had taught him how to fight for a cause, and be faithful to his friends. Then there was Doctor Goodman, who found him and considered him his son, even though they barely had any common interests. Trigg always found him soft.

He walked to the next door, behind which should lay another memory. But when Triggerhoof put his hoof on the doorknob, the door didn’t budge. “Bloody hell!” Trigg kept trying. He knew there was something behind that door, something he knew, something familiar. Finally, he lost his patience, turned around, and bucked. The door flew open, and Triggerhoof was sucked right in.

Into the void.

There was nothing behind the door, just emptiness and darkness. Triggerhoof actually felt disappointed. He had felt as if something important and valuable lay behind the door. But there was nothing at all. Something was missing. The void smelled strangely too, and there was a weird sound, like the skittering of bugs. “Show yourself,” Triggerhoof shouted. He knew it was a changeling, hiding somewhere in the void. “Don’t be a fucking coward and show yourself.”

But the only answer he got was a strange hiss, as if something vile and slithery was inhaling a sharp breath. There was no changeling to be seen.

Trigg felt that he was sucked back the way he came. He flew back to the hallway with the many doors, and landed hard on his flank. What to do now? He tried another door. It was empty too. He tried another. Empty. Another. Just blackness and emptiness.

Triggerhoof left the chamber with the many doors behind. There was nothing to see anymore, the changeling was gone, so he opened his eyes.

There was a silence. Carrey and Building Block held each other’s hooves, waiting for Raspberry Trick to say the words, and ready to embrace him and become a family again—a complete family. Carrey was trembling, while she squeezed her husband’s hoof.

And Doctor Goodman watched with interest too. These two ponies could very well be Trigg’s parents. But if that were true, then why couldn’t Trigg remember them? This display had strangeness written all over it, while mystery wrapped it tightly.

Jim watched the ponies as well. He always loved a good story, and he saw that he had stumbled upon quite the tale. He wanted the ending to be happy, and got ready to cheer.

“No,” Triggerhoof said. It was a cold, hard ‘no,’ shattering dreams and breaking expectations. Carrey’s heart broke. Her knees felt wobbly. Building Block supported her as she slumped to the ground, sobbing, crying, tears falling upon the marble floor. Building Block watched Triggerhoof. His face wasn’t angry, or sad, or even disappointed. He just watched his son with a blank expression, as all emotions got ripped away from him with that ‘no.’ “I don’t know what is wrong with you, son, but whatever it is, I hope you will see how things really are soon.” He paused to stroke his wife’s mane. “And if you do, little Raspberry, know that our doors and our hooves are always open for you.”

“I see that I am hungry,” Trigg said. He had enough of these two crazy ponies. “Let’s go.”

And with those harsh words, he left his parents behind in total confusion and despair.

The Engineer—which was the leader’s title—was a man of about sixty years, with silvery grey hair and a face that looked as if he were always thinking about something. He told Trigg, Johansson, and Goodman more about the settlement, about the laws of the place, and that they were welcome to trade and stay as long as they wished, given that they behaved themselves. He told them that they could sleep in the train carriages if they wanted, but he also warned them that it might be expensive.

It was then that everyone realized they were poor. They didn’t have any money. Trigg had never used it back in Crossroads, and only vaguely remembered what the word meant. Johansson was amazed that the old currencies were still being used, and Goodman was trying to think up a way to get some money. But that proved to be a challenge. They had only few possessions, and the things they could sell, they needed.

“Fucking hell,” Triggerhoof said.

The Engineer raised his index finger. “No swearing in my house, little pony.”

It was then that Goodman really started looking around. Indeed, he saw a Bible lying on the metal box the man used as a desk. When he watched the walls, he saw a little cross, made of two pieces of metal welded together, hanging on the wall. Apparently, the Engineer and he had common interests; religion. Goodman had the feeling that he had to talk to the Engineer alone if he wanted to get some things done. And besides that, he already had a little plan in his head.

“Excuse me,” he said to Johansson and Trigg. “Could you leave us alone for a minute?”

Johansson frowned, and stroked his beard. “I don’t want any secrets in my squad, doctor.”

But Triggerhoof, for once, proved to be helpful to Goodman. “I say we go. We have nothing further to discuss, and I am hungry.”

Sighing, Johansson said, “Alright then, we’ll leave.”

As the two soldiers walked out the door, Triggerhoof said, “They probably want to talk about the girly cartoon show.”

Johansson’s chuckle was the last sound, before the door shut.

The Engineer looked a bit uncomfortable with the silence, as he sat stiffly in his chair. As quickly as he could, Goodman waved the silence away. “I believe you are a man of God, aren’t you?”

Instantly, the Engineer relaxed. His hands went from their tight grip on the armrests to his desk, folded together. “I am. I believe, in these harsh times, we need the help of God to do what is right.”

“Certainly,” Goodman said. “If we keep trusting in Him, He will never forsake us.”

The Engineer bit his lip. “It might be… strange to ask you, but do you think He still listens to us?”

Chuckling, Goodman said, “I am most certain he still listens to us.”

“But we have destroyed his beautiful Earth, the land, the trees, the water. Everything has been destroyed by our own ignorant selves.”

Goodman nodded. “Still, I believe He is here. Especially after today. I have seen something truly magical here on Ground Zero.”

“Really?” The Engineer bent forwards. “And what is that, if I may ask?”

Goodman pushed his glasses further on his nose. “Today, I witnessed a true family reunion. Imagine that, being sucked out of your own world, landing miles apart on Ground Zero, and finding each other in a beautiful place.”

“That does sound magical,” the Engineer said. “Whom are you talking about?”

“The two ponies you have here, Carrey and Building Block.”

The Engineer smiled. “Yes, I know them very well. They are my most trusted advisors, and truly a gift from God. I have even made them my heirs, so when I pass away, Tracktown will have two Engineers“—he paused to let out a chuckle—“who aren’t even engineers. We found them when our community was still young, right there, in the metro, lost and scared and trembling from head to hoof.”

“And you took them in.”

“Precisely,” the Engineer said, thrusting his finger into the air. “And they didn’t prove to be useless. No, God had gifted them with very helpful skills. Carrey immediately tended to the wounded men; the victims of raiders, changelings, or radiation. Building Block, on the other hand, is a skilled builder. He basically fixed the generators at Star Avenue station all by himself. And when he started working on the trains… I reckon he has built at least half of all the train-homes himself.

“But useful as they were, they were never really cheerful or jolly. There always seemed to hang a raincloud over their heads. I once asked them why, and they told me about their missing son, who was supposed to be in a place called ‘Equestria.’”

“He wasn’t,” Goodman said. “He was also teleported out of Equestria and landed here on Earth.”

Suddenly, the Engineer stood up. “And he is here? Wait, it was that red pony, wasn’t it? That’s great! Then we should bring Carrey and Block over as soon as possible!” He stood up and reached for an intercom to his right.

“Don’t bother, Mister Engineer, they have already met.”

“Aw… really? That’s so sweet!” the Engineer said. “I’m sure they had a lovely family moment together.”

Doctor Goodman scratched the back of his head. “Well, actually, not really.” Then he told the Engineer exactly what he thought. Goodman was very sure the two ponies were really Trigg’s parents, as they not only knew his name and what had happened in Equestria, but Goodman had also never seen such motherly love from anyone. The way Carrey cried when Triggerhoof said ‘no,’ almost made Goodman himself cry. No, Goodman knew there was something wrong with Triggerhoof, but what it was, he couldn’t guess. Something made him forget about his parents, and even the entire world of Equestria. Goodman’s closest guess would be the rebuke of some sort of trauma.

“If this is really true, then I will consider you guests of honor here in Tracktown,” the Engineer said, looking closely at Goodman to spot any signs of a lie, however much he wanted to believe the story.

“As God is my witness,” Goodman said.

The Engineer waited for a minute longer, and then sat down on his chair again. “I believe you, Doctor Goodman. This whole tale sounds so dramatic and unrealistic, but somehow, I believe you. I just hope I could help your pony friend to remember his parents.”

Letting out a sigh, and rubbing his hand over his face, Goodman said, “That’s what I hope too.”

Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, the Engineer started scribbling something down. “Of course you can stay here—you don’t have to pay. Maybe your pony friend can even sleep in the same carriage as his parents, so that he will remember them.”

“Good idea,” Goodman said. “I just hope he is willing to.”

“And of course, you can have any supplies you want for free. Just show the merchants this card. But please, don’t abuse this privilege I am giving you.”

Goodman took the card. “Of course we won’t.”

The Engineer looked at his desk and fiddled with his fingers, wondering if he could ask what he wanted to ask. “May I ask you where you are going? Maybe I can help you on your way. I know these tunnels better than anyone, you see?”

Chuckling, Goodman said, “Well, actually our mission is quite simple. We want to get back on Ground Zero somehow.”

“Ah, I see,” The Engineer pondered over Goodman’s words. “We usually take the tunnel you came from, and exit from there.”

“But we can’t go there,” Goodman said, “the place will probably still be infested with changelings.”

“How do you know that?”

“Trust me, Mister Engineer, I know.”

“Alright then.” The Engineer stood up and walked towards a file cabinet. He rummaged through it for a few seconds, and then found what he was looking for. Carefully, he spread out a map of the metro system on the table. “We are here,” he said, pointing at a station. The station’s original name was crossed out, and instead there was the name of the settlement; ‘Tracktown.’ The Engineer looked at Goodman. “As I said, we always take an exit in the direction you came from. If you go further down this line, you will get to Star Station, our power supply. From there on, the tunnel only gets deeper and deeper. And not only that. It will also bend southwards, to where the changelings are coming from.”

Goodman bit his lip, as he saw that the Engineer was right. There was just one straight line, with no railways branching off into other directions. He turned towards the Engineer again. “So we are boxed in?”

“Well, maybe not.” The Engineer once again jabbed a finger at the map. “Between Tracktown and Star Station there are many side tunnels, used for maintenance, which are not visible on the map. Maybe you can find a way out there, but I’m not sure. We have never really bothered to explore those tunnels; we don’t need to, you see? And besides that, most of those tunnels are dead ends anyway. But sometimes, those dead ends are formed by strong, steel doors, through which we don’t dare to go. But maybe one of those doors leads to a way out of the metro. Who knows?” He paused to smile at Goodman. “And I would very much appreciate it if you explore the tunnels for us.”

“I see,” Doctor Goodman said, stroking his chin. “Then we’ll need some kind of explosive or something. I’ll ask Johansson about that. Anything else we need to know?”

The Engineer jolted. “Oh, yes, of course. There’s lots of radiation in the east tunnel, which is closed by an even more complicated door. We think the tunnel behind it took a direct hit from a missile, so the tunnel will probably be collapsed. I suggest you pick that one last.”

“Alright,” Goodman said with a nod. “I’ll talk some more with the others.”

“Very well.” The Engineer opened the filing cabinet and put the map back where it belonged. “If there is anything I can do for you, especially regarding your poor pony friend, I’d be happy to help.”

“God couldn’t have given us a greater help than you, Mister Engineer.” And with that, Goodman left the office behind.

After a bit of searching, Doctor Goodman found Triggerhoof and Johansson sitting beside a fire with some other soldiers. They were eating and talking about something. When Goodman sat down, he heard they were discussing different kinds of nuclear missiles. But Doctor Goodman broke that conversation. He hated weapons in general—especially those that had ruined the planet. Instead he quickly came to business and told Trigg and General Johansson what he heard from the Engineer.

“We’ll need some steel cutting explosives,” Johansson said. “Builders use those things to do controlled demolitions, but the military also uses them to break into compounds. When the market opens tomorrow, I’ll have a look around.”

And so, they came up with a plan. But Goodman wasn’t satisfied yet. He tried to get Triggerhoof into sleeping in his parent’s home, but he refused every time Goodman proposed something. In the end, he didn’t say anything at all, and tried to ignore Goodman. Once the doctor finally gave up on his efforts, Trigg resumed the conversation about weapons. Doctor Goodman quickly left the company behind.

He headed over to the carriage where Carrey and Building Block had rushed out of, when they were eager to embrace their lost son. As Goodman stepped in, he briefly wondered how he was going to find the carriage that held Trigg’s parents. There were mattresses, sleeping bags, and some personal belongings everywhere. Sometimes there were cloths hanging around like curtains to give the inhabitants of the train some kind of privacy.

Finding Trigg’s parents proved to be easier than Goodman thought. The only thing he needed to do was follow the sound of sobs. Slowly, Goodman pulled the curtain aside, and stepped into their home.

Carrey lay on the ground, crying with her back to her husband. When Building Block noticed Goodman’s entrée, he turned towards him. “She hasn’t stopped crying since our son said ‘no.’ Mister, I don’t know what to do.”

Doctor Goodman introduced himself to Building Block. The stallion then bent through his knees and spoke to his wife. “Carrey, I have a doctor here, a real doctor. I’m sure he can help us shine some light on this strange encounter.” He looked up at Goodman. “Can you?”

“I can,” Doctor Goodman said. “The least I can do is share some theories with you. Raspberry Trick might not be as lost as you think.”

Suddenly, Carrey’s shoulders stopped twitching. Slowly, she turned around, looked at the doctor with watery eyes, and said, “Really?”

Goodman stuck out his hand and helped her up. “Really.”

When Carrey had calmed down, they sat together around a low metal box that served as a table. Goodman told them what he thought, that Triggerhoof’s amnesia might be induced because of some trauma, as sometimes happens with soldiers. Sometimes soldiers see something so terrible, so black and soulless, that they can’t cope with that, and bury it somewhere in the dark corners of their subconscious, trying to put it away forever. But no matter how far underground they put it, it always resurfaces someday. Post-traumatic stress disorder.

“Perhaps Triggerhoof’s amnesia is caused by something truly traumatic, and perhaps, when he sees or hears or smells or feels something that he used to know, or gets an emotional shock of some kind, it will trigger his memories.”

Goodman’s words were hopeful, yet they could hardly fill the hole in the ponies’ hearts. They felt as if their Raspberry Trick had died, and as if they should grieve. But thanks to Goodman’s knowledge, a little hope seeped through, and they realized they shouldn’t grieve. They should hope, hope that someday Triggerhoof will become Raspberry Trick once more, and they all could live happily ever after.

Of course Trigg’s parents offered Goodman a place to sleep. As soon as the doctor put his head to his pillow, he fell asleep, and his last thoughts were theories; theories on how to get Raspberry Trick back to reality.

After they ate and drunk as much as they could, Johansson and Triggerhoof were invited to sleep in the military barracks, which made up a few train carriages. Of course they agreed, and both soldiers soon found themselves lying in hammocks, ready to catch some much-deserved sleep.

Triggerhoof thought about his missions. Of course, there was the mission to find the elements of harmony—which he hadn’t told and didn’t want to tell to the others—and help them in their mission to gather themselves together. That mission took up a big part of Trigg’s determination, but still, a small part of himself—the most patriotic part—was also thinking about ways to crush the Russians. He was a soldier fighting for two causes, waging a war on two fronts. He honestly didn’t know what was more important, defeating the changelings or defeating the Russians? Which enemy was more threatening? Both missions looked equally impossible. They had no home base or army anymore to fight the Russians, and the elements of harmony… they could be anywhere!

He hadn’t wanted to tell the others about the elements of harmony. General Johansson would certainly question Trigg’s loyalty. Did he fight for America, or for a personal suicide mission of his? And he also didn’t tell doctor Goodman. Undoubtedly the doctor would want to follow Trigg into Hell and back, but Trigg didn’t want that. The clumsy doctor would only get in his way and slow him down. And besides that, he knew it might become his death. He realized he had to protect Doctor Goodman against himself, to prevent him from biting off more than he could chew. Even though they had their differences and butted heads sometimes, Goodman was still the person who had found him so long ago…

All of those missions, worries, difficulties, choices, swirled around in his subconscious like Zecora’s all-seeing brew. Finally, he fell asleep, and had confusing dreams.

Johansson was lying in another hammock close to Trigg. For him, it was simple; defeat the Russians. But he too, had no idea what to do. First he had to find some American soldiers. There surely were more—although smaller—bases, where the American military still had influence. This couldn’t be the end—it simply couldn’t. He closed his eyes while he frowned, and drifted off.

Chapter nineteen: a third surprise

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The next day was shopping day. They all had no trouble finding what they were looking for at the busy, busy market. Triggerhoof even found an opportunity to craft a harness that allowed him to shoot guns with his wings. Even though they were a bit rusty, he now wore two assault rifles, hanging in a metal framework, which was strapped snugly to his barrel with leather straps. It wasn’t much, but at least it was better than the bow.

In a matter of hours, they were all suited up, and heading towards the mysterious maintenance tunnels. They decided to stay together, and explore each tunnel as a group, rather than splitting up. If there really were changelings in the tunnels, they would face the danger together.

General Johansson and Doctor Goodman weren’t yet wearing their gasmasks, as their Geiger counters kept quiet. But of course, Triggerhoof had already slipped the thing over his muzzle, because…

Better safe than fucking sorry.

Their powerful flashlights scanned the walls of the first tunnel, making sure to cover every nook and cranny. Its entrance was very inconspicuously hidden, and the tunnel was much smaller than the enormous, dome-shaped metro tunnels. There were no traces of changelings, which was good. No breeding membranes hanging from the wall, and no spit and saliva everywhere on the floor. The first tunnel was safe. It ended, just as the Engineer had told them, in a dead end; a steel door.

Johansson put his pack on the ground and got out the steel cutting charges. He had been able to get a total of four of them, so he made sure to place it correctly. He put the charge against the lock of the door, then stepped back to watch his work.

“Alright everyone, back off.”

They retreated some distance away. Johansson held the detonator in his hand. As soon as he was satisfied with the distance, he pushed it.

“Fire in the hole!”

There was a loud flash, and a bang, amplified a thousand times by the reverb of the metro tunnel. Triggerhoof’s ears rang from the bang of the explosives. He looked at Goodman, who had been wise enough to put his fingers in his ears.

They moved in, keeping the barrels of their guns on the area in front of them, ready for anything.

The steel door opened, revealing a maintenance room. Nothing more, nothing less. There were some pieces of machinery here and there, many, many tools, and something that looked very much like a generator. Goodman thought that the Engineer would be really happy with this discovery. Needless to say, Triggerhoof and Johansson were not. They quickly turned around, and searched for a new tunnel.

They found another tunnel, placed a charge, and opened it to reveal more useless junk. They had two charges left now. Johansson decided to scout out ahead, and see if there were tunnels or side passages that looked more promising than the others. In total, they found four more tunnels, but they only had two charges. Trigg discovered the fourth tunnel, and had quickly retreated when his Geiger counter started clicking.

That tunnel actually looked different from the others. Where the others had their doors at the end of the tunnel, this one had a sealed iron door before the tunnel, keeping what was behind it a mystery. Whatever there was, there was also radiation.

Johansson heard Trigg’s report, thought for a moment, and took a decision. “We’re going through your tunnel, Trigg.”

Triggerhoof perked up; his muscles tensed. “Are you sure of that, sir? There is radiation there.”

“Are you questioning my orders?” Johansson said, throwing a strict gaze towards his soldier.

Trigg’s ears drooped down. “No sir.”

Doctor Goodman also wanted to object, and say to Johansson that the Engineer told him it was probably collapsed. But he knew that the stubborn General Johansson wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. As they arrived at the steel door, Johansson rubbed his hands together. “Do you all see that?”

The door looked different from the others. The lock was much more advanced, and the hinges looked heavy; almost indestructible. When Johansson tapped his fingers on it, there was almost no echo. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the door looked military-made. “Dayum.”

They placed the third charge on the steel door, and stepped back.

Here goes nothing, but hopefully something… Johansson pressed the button.

A flash of light illuminated the metro tunnel for a split second. The heat sliced through the steel, cutting out a neat square. With a metallic clang, the lock clattered to the ground.

As Johansson stepped towards the door, he noticed something very strange. Light streamed through the cut-out square. He placed a heavy boot on the door, and pushed.

As soon as the door opened, their Geiger counters went wild. Triggerhoof jumped, and did a few steps back, as if the radiation slapped him on the muzzle. He tried his best to tell himself that he wore a suit, that he was safe, but he still kept glancing at his Geiger counter. The needle was far in the red. Trigg gritted his teeth, gave himself a mental slap in the face, and took a peek.

“What the fuck is this place?”

The tunnel was illuminated. Lamps were fixed on the walls, neatly arranged throughout the tunnel. The wall was painted a dark green. Sure, there was some dust on the ground, but other than that, the tunnel—or hallway—looked untouched.

“How is that possible?” Johansson said. But then he leveled his automatic. “You think there are people inside?”

Goodman reached out with his hand, and slowly lowered the barrel of the general in an almost comic gesture. “I don’t think so,” Goodman said. “Look at the cables.”

They did so. The cables that connected the lamps seemed to gather and disappear through a narrow slit in the wall.

“These lamps must be connected to the generator at that other station,” Goodman further explained. “Those generators are powering these lamps, but the people of the metro don’t know that. Maybe their power output is only half of what it could be.”

“Possible,” General Johansson said, lifting the barrel of his gun once more, “but I’m not gonna take any chances. Follow me, and keep your eyes open.”

Letting out a sigh, Goodman raised the barrel of his own automatic and stepped inside the hallway, with Trigg covering the rear.

The hallway went on for a long while. As they moved, they passed several markings on the wall. Numbers, codes. All signs pointed to the obvious; this area of the metro belonged to the U.S. military. When they passed a couple of splits, and even encountered a functioning elevator, they were further convinced that this military facility went on for a long while.

Occasionally, they found signs which pointed in different directions. ‘Systems,’ ‘labs,’ ‘research,’ ‘engineering;’ just a few of the names they encountered. They kept walking through the hallway, going straight ahead. Their Geiger counters went mad. Beads of cold sweat clouded the mask of Triggerhoof, and he kept staring at the little yellow box. The needle was all the way at the end, and Trigg knew for sure that if it could go further, it definitely would. If he hadn’t been wearing his protective suit, he would be fried alive in a matter of seconds.

Finally, they reached the end. A large double steel door blocked the way. But, thanks to the power at Star Station, it was functional. Trigg and Goodman took cover in two other hallways, keeping their guns trained on the door, while Johansson pressed the button.

With a hiss like a changeling, the pneumatic systems engaged. The door unfolded itself; the heavy iron bolts slipped back into the lock. With a screeching, grinding sound, the door swiveled on its massive hinges, revealing the treasure inside.

Like a cigar of death, a missile stood upright. It was enormous, built in a circular concrete space. Triggerhoof, Johansson, and Goodman could see the missile through the window of a viewing platform. Johansson dropped his weapon; it clattered to the ground. He looked like a boy who had found a long-lost toy at the bottom of a toy box. His mouth was open and he was unable to close it.

“These are Fists, Winter’s Fists.”

Doctor Goodman studied the nuclear missile, his nose close to the glass in an attempt to see how tall it was. “I can’t even see the top,” he said, his voice meek, beaten down by impression. “This thing is hideous!”

“Hideous?!” Triggerhoof pushed Goodman away from the window so he himself could take a peek. “This thing is goddamn beautiful!”

“Language!” Goodman said.

But Triggerhoof was much too distracted to throw curses at Goodman. His eyes went up, taking in every detail of the booster, the sleek body, and the pointed tip of the missile. Suddenly, he noticed something. At the top of the missile, some hoses were unplugged and hung limply in the air. He nudged General Johansson. “Hey, what’s wrong with it?”

But Johansson was still spellbound by the machine of mass destruction. His eyes shimmered. He was in total bliss. Triggerhoof thought the man would kneel and worship the thing like a god any second now. He waved a wing in front of Johansson’s face. “Ground Zero to General Johansson? Please respond.”

Slowly, Johansson’s hand reached up and put Triggerhoof’s wing back to the pegasus it belonged to. “It’s just… so… beautiful.”

“I can’t deny that, sir,” Triggerhoof said with a grin. “But there seems to be something wrong with it. I saw some strange things at the tip.”

With a lot of effort, Johansson was able to tear his gaze off the weapon. “I’m sorry, what were you saying, soldier?”

Triggerhoof sighed and grunted at the same time. “We have to get to a higher viewing platform, then I can show you what I mean.”

“Yes… of course…”

Doctor Goodman turned to Johansson. “There surely must be another exit to Ground Zero, don’t you think? I guess this facility should have some kind of emergency exit.”

“Yes… of course…”

It took some effort, but they finally got Johansson to move. They took the elevator up a few floors. There was even a sign that indicated ‘observation platform’ at the next door. They went through, and were treated with a view of the tip of the missile, where the warhead was.

They could literally see the warhead. Indeed, a few hoses and electrical wires hung over the edge of the maintenance platform, and there were some hatches open which shouldn’t be open. Their Geiger counters screamed.

“That explains…” Johansson said, his voice still bearing awe. “That explains the radiation. The warhead is exposed. It’s leaking!”

Triggerhoof came to another conclusion himself. He thought back to the beaten-up city above. “And that’s why this town is so heavily bombed. The Russians must have found out about this secret base and tried to destroy it. I mean, it makes total sense to bury it close to the metro. The equipment is already underground.”

“If the missile is really leaking, then I suggest we get out of here and find a way to the surface,” Goodman said casually, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Do you think it’s still operational?” Triggerhoof said.

“Affirmative,” Johansson said. “With a few minor repairs, the warhead can be covered up again, then the missile will once more be the streamlined beauty it was.”

Doctor Goodman waved his hands. “My dear soldiers, can we please go and search for an exit before we become French fries?”

“We’ve got suits, remember?” Trigg snapped, then turned to the general again. “Can we launch it?”

Slowly, General Johansson nodded. “In theory…”

“Do you know how to launch it?”

Once again, Johansson nodded. “I used to work in a facility just like this one, but much smaller. I had access to everything I needed to launch the missiles. When we had confirmed reports of a nuclear detonation on American soil, I launched the missiles. After that, there was nothing else for us to do. Well, you know what happened after that…” Johansson cleared his throat, slowly coming back from nuclear nirvana to Ground Zero. “We gathered a small crew, got into the Winter, and searched for survivors, help build communities, protect them. And then we stumbled upon Crossroads. Things were so well-organized there. My soldiers and I knew that the bunker underneath the hospital would be a perfect home base to start attacking the reds. And—”

“And then the Heat Seekers were formed,” Trigg finished for him. He did a step back. “But… but that’s amazing. I still have the GPS with the coordinates of the red base. We can fire this thing straight into their asses!”

Stepping back from the window, Johansson let out a sigh. “I’m afraid not, soldier. Yes, we do have power here. Yes, I know the procedure and how to launch it, but I am not in command here. I don’t have the security launch codes or the two keys for the installation.”

Trigg gritted his teeth, and kicked the window. “Dammit!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Doctor Goodman said, his tone of voice really irritated now. “We’re not here to fire missiles. We’re here to escape the metro.”

“Well, don’t you know where the launch codes might be?” Trigg asked with a raised voice, completely ignoring Goodman.

“The highest official, the general of the facility, carried them with him,” Johansson said. “But he is long gone, just like the rest of the soldiers. We’re not gonna get those launch codes.”

Now Triggerhoof sighed as well. “I understand, sir.”

Johansson reached out and stroked Trigg’s head. “It doesn’t matter, soldier. Come, then we go up onto the launching platform. I think we have earned that after all our troubles.”

Before Goodman could object, Johansson said, “If there is an emergency escape hatch, it will be at the top levels of the facility. Might as well stop by to watch the launching platform.” For a moment, Johansson felt like a parent bringing his son to work, showing him what it is he did from nine till five. He guided Trigg into the elevator, waited for Goodman, and pressed the button.

When the elevator said ping, and the doors slid open, they revealed yet another hallway, with a curve at the end.

“I still don’t see the point of this trip,” Goodman said, as they moved closer. He was almost stomping. “In my medical opinion, you guys have an unhealthy obsession with everything that kills.”

“And I wouldn’t trade that for the world,” Johansson said with a smile on his bearded face.

When they rounded the corner, they gazed upon a strange display. There was a closed door, bullet casings everywhere, dents all around the lock, and an intercom system.

“What the hell happened here?” Triggerhoof said.

“Language!”

“I really have no idea,” Johansson said, walking closer and examining the door. “But whatever happened, someone wanted to get inside the launching platform real bad.”

The door was locked, but not for long. Johansson carefully placed their last steel-cutting charge on the molested door lock, although he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know what lay behind the door. Nevertheless, they took cover.

BOOM! And away flew the lock.

When the smoke cleared, they stepped inside the launch room, and saw an even stranger display.

There was a corpse—more skeleton than human—slumped into a chair. One of his hands was cuffed to a metal suitcase. On the ground lay one bullet casing and one pistol. When Triggerhoof looked closely, he could see a large hole in the skull of the skeleton. Trigg had no trouble at all figuring out what had happened.

Doctor Goodman made the sign of the cross with his hand, paying his respect to the dead man, and took a moment to look around the room. It looked like the interior of a spaceship. There were colored buttons, flashing lights, and computers everywhere. Suddenly, Goodman noticed something. On the desk, pinned on a clipboard, lay a note written in pen with shaky, frantic handwriting. He read it first for himself before he read it aloud.

“I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it; it’s that simple. I don’t care if the Russians throw a million bombs on America, I am not looking for any retaliation. The others behind the door were shouting, angry, filled with hate for the enemy. They know their families have burned, and now they want more families to be burned. I don’t. Hell, my family is probably dead too, but do I feel any hate? No. I feel only sadness and remorse. Launching a nuclear missile is not going to take away those feelings.

“For years I have been a dedicated soldier, proudly serving the American military, but now I’m going to die as a traitor—in the eyes of the others. I don’t care. I’d rather do the right thing—no, I’d rather not do the wrong thing—while I still have the chance. I hope God will have mercy on me, but I highly doubt it.

“I have sabotaged the warhead. With the push of a button, the shields will spring open and the radiation will gush out like a wave, killing everyone. I told those savages on the other side of the door what I am going to do. The moment they realized that my threats weren’t empty air, I could hear the sound of the alarm echoing through the hallways, and also the satisfying sound of boots running towards the emergency hatch. Either that, or they are going to use explosives to open the door. Then they will die with me. I leave it up to them.

“Hell, why am I even writing this letter? It’s not as if someone will be able to find a way to get to this room. I don’t care. It feels good to finally be able to put my thoughts and worries on paper, without fear of someone eavesdropping on me. At least I die in freedom, making my own choices with my own free will. That feels good too.

“Farewell, cruel, hate-filled world. I hope hell will be better.

“General Edward Peterson.”

“That’s it? That’s what happened?” Triggerhoof said.

Once again, Doctor Goodman made the sign of the cross. “I’m afraid so.”

With one punch of his hoof, Triggerhoof shattered Edward’s ribcage.

“What?! Why did you do that?!” Goodman shouted.

Triggerhoof snorted, and flung the dust off his forehooves. “Because he’s a fucking traitor, that’s why!”

That was not the Triggerhoof Doctor Goodman wanted to see. “No, Raspberry,” he said, his voice soft, mirroring his disappointment, “Mister Peterson did the right thing.”

“I agree with Triggerhoof; the man is a traitor,” General Johansson said. “But it’s good that our skeleton friend here hasn’t launched the missile, because that means that I can.”

“Really?!” Trigg and Goodman said at the same time. Trigg sounded pleasantly surprised, while Goodman sounded unpleasantly surprised.

Johansson ripped the suitcase off the skeleton’s wrist, taking the whole hand with it in the process. He took out his pistol, put it against the lock, and fired. When the suitcase opened, it revealed some papers, and two keys, each bearing a red keychain. Johansson took the papers and the keys and held them up in his hands. “Perfect. This is everything we need. As soon as we fix up that warhead, this boy is going to fly.”

“But… but…” Goodman couldn’t believe his ears. “But you can’t do that! This man here died refusing to launch the missile. His last wish is for it to never be launched.”

“Wrong,” Johansson said, while his eyes skimmed the paper. “He wanted to ensure that whoever finds the missile knows of its destructive power. We hold ‘the power of atom at our fingertips,’ which means we can do whatever we want with it. We are the rightful owners now.”

“Finders, keepers,” Triggerhoof added.

“Exactly, soldier.”

Goodman threw his hands in the air. He didn’t recognize his friends in the two monsters that stood before him. “But look at what the nukes created. Look at Ground Zero. The world is already messed up as it is, by our own hands, and now you want to launch yet another one of those God-forbidden weapons?!”

“Affirmative,” Trigg and Johansson said at the same time.

But Goodman didn’t give up. “You aren’t seriously thinking of throwing that thing upon the red base, are you?”

“Yes sir,” Trigg said. He began to grow tired of the professor nagging on and on, while there were preparations to be made. “Tell me one reason why we shouldn’t. Now we have a chance at hitting those filthy communists right in the heart. We would be traitors not to utilize this chance.”

“No! You would be heroes,” Goodman said, looking Trigg deep in the eyes. “Raspberry Trick, I believe in life. Life is something precious, and we should cling to it with our hands or hooves. No matter if we are red, blue, or everything in between. In the end, we’re still people. We are fellow human beings, and we should be bringing life, instead of sowing death.”

Now Johansson turned around as well, and threw a stare at Goodman. “Yes, doctor. It doesn’t matter to you who lies hurt on the operation table. For you, you’re helping another human being. But for us, it does matter what is at the other side of our gun’s barrel.”

“But you could be better. You could be—”

“Tell me, doctor,” Johansson said, “If I were a communist, would I shoot you now?”

That caught Goodman off guard. He had no idea what to say to this, but he didn’t give up. “But if there are communists who would be like me, who would think like me, then—”

“They would still be communists,” Johansson finished. “You cannot change a man’s ideology that simply, Doctor Goodman. They want to destroy us, and force us to take on their ideology.”

“And what makes their ideology worse than ours?”

Johansson stabbed a finger at Goodman. “You could be put against the wall for such talk, Goodman.”

“But you can’t just launch a nuke on them! It’s just… just…” Goodman searched for words. “Wrong. They will never even realize what hit them. Killing them with guns is one thing, but catching them off guard like this. It’s… It’s the same as shooting a man in the back.”

Johansson shook his head. “No, Goodman, what you are doing now is the same as shooting a man in the back. Now stop your jabbering and help me fix this nuke. We’ve got a delivery to make.”

Turning around, Johansson took out the keys and twirled them around in his fingers. Triggerhoof was gazing intently at all the knobs and buttons and lights of the launching installation. They both froze when they heard a click they knew all too well.

“No… no… no, this is too big. I won’t let you do this,” Goodman said, as he held his automatic with two hands. The barrel moved from Johansson to Triggerhoof. Johansson still held the papers with one hand, and the keys with the other. Goodman could shoot him before he even got a chance at drawing his pistol. Triggerhoof, on the other hand, had his gun trained on Goodman the moment he raised his voice. He had expected trouble; horses have a sixth sense for that.

“It seems we are enemies now, doctor,” General Johansson said. He had stared into the barrel of a gun before, and knew that talking was the best way to make it vanish. “But I don’t want that,” he continued. “We don’t need to be enemies just because of an argument. How about you lay down the gun, and we’ll talk this over man to man?”

“I know you only talk with bullets,” Doctor Goodman said, still holding up his gun. But he trembled over his whole body. Adrenaline kicked in. He knew he had made a final decision soon. “All you soldiers talk with bullets. I still believe in the goodness of mankind. God has given that to everyone, whether communist, capitalist, it doesn’t matter.”

Johansson still stood erect and motionless. “It seems that your vision is clouded by religion. Your opinion is biased, and I can understand that. But we can work on that; you have a viable reason why you act as you act now. My offer still stands: lay down the gun, and we’ll talk.”

Triggerhoof’s eyes flashed from man to man. He had no idea what to do. His feathers were at the triggers, and his guns were still aimed at Goodman.

“So you’re not gonna follow my good advice?” Johansson said. His voice was ominously soft.

“No.”

A grim smile played around Johansson’s bearded lips. “Then we are enemies, Doctor. And as you know, enemies must be destroyed. I still have a soldier, while you stand alone.”

Goodman glanced over at Triggerhoof, still staring into the barrels of the pony’s guns.

Nudging with his head, Johansson gave the command. “Triggerhoof, kill him.”

Goodman’s eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t…”

Triggerhoof pulled both bolts of both his weapons back with a terrifying click.

But he didn’t do anything.

“Soldier, I gave you an order,” Johansson said, “carry it out.”

“I… I can’t, general,” Triggerhoof said. His voice, for once, didn’t sound gruff and rough, but surprisingly soft, as if he weren’t sure of his words. Even though they were like fire and ice, Doctor Goodman was still the man who had found him, mortally wounded. He was the man who had nursed him back to health. He was the man who had tried to educate him, while all Triggerhoof wanted was to join the Heat Seekers, that legendary squad. Of course Doctor Goodman never approved of that. He wanted to teach him kindness, love, and tolerance, just like the ponies in the show. He wanted to show him the spirit of human beings, the peacefulness in a time of war, a light in the darkness of the world.

Goodman had never approved of Trigg’s wargames, but never stopped him—until now.

Trigg looked at General Johansson, everything that was left of the Heat Seekers. No, Trigg had always idolized them. He felt completely synchronized with weapons, war, and the Heat Seekers. He had always considered General Johansson his dad. Yet, if that were true, why couldn’t he kill the ‘enemy?’

“You are silent, Triggerhoof,” Johansson said. “We are still at an impasse. This impasse won’t end until you make a move, Trigg. But keep in mind who trained you, who taught you the things that kept you alive in this world. Keep in mind who loved you like a son and always hoped for your safe return. Choose where your loyalty lies, but at least do something.”

Silence. The only sound came from the bleeps of the computers in the launch control center. Triggerhoof couldn’t decide. For the first time of his life, he was unsure whether to fire or not. For the first time of his life, he doubted whether the enemy was really the enemy. He’d much rather do nothing, but he knew that was not an option. He bent down through his knees, slowly, unsure of his movements.

He was unsure, yet he made a move.

Goodman felt the impact, as Triggerhoof launched himself into him. Then he felt a terrible pain in his chest, like a giant bee stinging him, the stinger piercing straight through him. The pain paralyzed him, made his knees weak. Blood spattered the walls, as he went down.

Triggerhoof looked behind him, and into the smoking gun of Johansson. This was not the plan. The plan was to tackle and disarm Goodman, not shoot him dead. Yet that is what happened. When Goodman had become distracted by the wing-propelled, charging horse, Johansson had taken the chance to draw his gun and place a well-aimed shot.

Triggerhoof stepped away from Doctor Goodman. Blood spurted out of the wound and formed a lake at his head. Doctor Goodman tried to say something. His breaths came in ragged gurgles. Triggerhoof bent through his knees and swiveled his ears.

“I… forgive… you… R-R-Raspberry.”

And before Triggerhoof could tell him that he wasn’t the one who shot him, Doctor John Goodman slipped away, and left this world behind.

“But… I didn’t shoot you,” Trigg said. He knew Goodman was already dead, yet he still spoke to him. “I didn’t shoot you!” he called. “I didn’t shoot you!” he shouted. Then he grabbed Goodman by the shoulders and shook him. “I didn’t shoot you!” The visor of his gasmask went completely white. “I didn’t shoot you! I didn’t shoot you!” Tears stung in his eyes. “I didn’t shoot you!” He screamed louder and louder. “I didn’t shoot YOU! I DIDN’T shoot you! I DIDN’T SHOOT YOU!” He kept shaking the body of Doctor Goodman, as if he could shake him back to life. He had lost a friend who was more dear to him than he realized. He felt a hole in his heart, as if an arrow had punched right through, and left behind dark vapors. “I DIDN’T SHOOT YOU! I DIDN’T SHOOT YOU! I DIDN’T SHOOT YOU!” Alas, Doctor John Goodman would never know that Triggerhoof wasn’t the one who shot him.

Suddenly, Trigg felt something. Johansson crouched down, and put a hand on his shoulder. “No, Triggerhoof, you didn’t shoot him. I did, and I am very sorry for that.”

Trigg’s head snapped around. He had no idea how to react.

“Soldiers die, Triggerhoof,” Johansson said. “The average life span of a soldier on the battlefield is five seconds. Doctor Goodman has been with us for a lot longer than that, and for that, I am both glad and grateful.”

Trigg’s voice sounded broken. “But… doc was no soldier. He was… He was…”

“A scientist,” Johansson guessed.

“A friend.”

“You’re right, Triggerhoof,” Johansson said in his softest voice. “A friend he was, right until the end. He didn’t want to kill us, but he knew he had to. He had to make the same decision you had to make. It’s all a matter of loyalty. I can’t say you chose wisely, because I made the choice for you. And for that, I am sorry.”

Triggerhoof wanted to bury his head in Johansson’s shirt, but they were wearing protective suits, of course. Instead, he rubbed his muzzle against his bullet-proof vest. He wanted to cry. Triggerhoof couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. He wasn’t sure if he had ever cried. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t give a damn.

The emotions hit him like a nuclear missile, and scrambled his brains. Once again, he drifted into the void behind the chamber with many doors. He couldn’t help it; he got sucked right into it. Triggerhoof had lost someone so dear to him. He felt as if he lost his father.

My… father…?

Suddenly, out of the void in his head, a picture started to form. It was the picture of a burly stallion, wearing a moustache and smiling to him, reaching out a hoof.

Triggerhoof took that hoof. His father took him somewhere, to a house. It was a colorful house in a colorful neighborhood, full of gold and purple. Inside the house, there was a mare. She looked as if she were worried all the time. She also reached out a hoof, and Triggerhoof took that hoof.

Hooves…

“And if you do, little Raspberry, know that our doors and our hooves are always open for you.”

Triggerhoof let his parents guide him towards the window. There they stopped, and gestured for Trigg to go and look.

There was a beautiful sunrise, setting the gold on the roofs ablaze. So sparkly and shiny the city was, that Triggerhoof had to shield his eyes, as if he were watching a nuclear detonation.

The city… Canterlot?

The sun slowly rose by Celestia’s will; the rooftops glowed. He could see everything.

See how things really are…

“I don’t know what is wrong with you, son, but whatever it is, I hope you will see how things really are soon.”

As he left the sun alone, his gaze went down to their garden. There was a big bush encircling the entire lawn, bearing healthy, blood-red raspberries.

Raspberries…

“I can’t believe it! My sweet little Raspberry Trick!”

Triggerhoof closed his eyes, mulling over everything that shot through his brains like arrows from a bow. He remembered things he wasn’t supposed to remember. Yet somehow, the memories seemed sincere and real. No, it was the void that felt strange.

Memories…

“Try to remember what happened that day with the changeling attack. Or remember another, happier memory with us. Just try.”

“I remember,” Triggerhoof said, before everything went black. He slumped down next to his fallen friend and his commander. For the first time in many years, his dreams were soft and peaceful.

The general took the hint, and after he positioned the passed-out pony out of the blood pool and into another corner, he left Trigg alone. Making the nuke ready was a one-man-job anyway.

After a bit of searching around, he found a blowtorch and a mask, possibly even used by Edward the traitor, and got to work on putting the shielding in place. All the while the general thought about what had happened. Once again, he thought about every possible outcome of that sticky situation. What could he have done differently? The shot, he realized, had also been tricky. He knew he was a crack shot, but also realized he could have hit Triggerhoof. Johansson kept wondering and guessing why the pony did what he did, wondering what went around in his head.

When Johansson reached back to pick up the blowtorch, he grasped empty air. Oh shit! Did he accidentally nudge it off the maintenance platform? Johansson turned around on his knees.

“Here,” Triggerhoof said, and gave him the blowtorch.

That caught the general off guard. He hadn’t even thought about what he would say to Triggerhoof once he woke up. It didn’t matter. First, Triggerhoof had something to say.

“Do you question my loyalty, sir?”

His voice was completely devoid of any expression. There was no anger, sadness, or despair in it. It was totally blank. Their eyes were at the same height. When Johansson looked deep into Triggerhoof’s eyes, he saw the sorrow and guilt, hidden behind a reinforced, steel door. Triggerhoof had shut down his emotions.

General Johansson stood up. “No. I never doubted your fealty to me, the Heat Seekers, the American army… I never doubted it, and I still don’t.”

Turning his back to the general, Triggerhoof said, “That is all I wanted to know. If you need any help, just tell me.”

Johansson waited until the pony was out of sight andbehind the door. Then, with hands that were trembling a bit, he picked up the blowtorch and resumed his work.

Triggerhoof walked back to the launching platform, alone with his thoughts. He didn’t let that time go to waste. He was running, jumping, hunting the fragments of his shredded memories together. He fastened them to each other as Johansson fastened the shield on the missile. Slowly, piece by piece, the lost memories turned into a moving painting.

Triggerhoof remembered the place he was from; Equestria, Canterlot. He remembered what he liked to do; archery. He remembered his friends, especially Nockle Stringer. He remembered that fateful day, the day that the changelings attacked. Trigg stopped reminiscing for a second to look at his leg, where a terrible scar reminded him of the changeling’s magical trickery, and the arrow that should have killed him. But above all, he remembered his parents. He remembered how loving and caring they were, and how they tried to save him till the end. Even though massive grief kept whispering with a cold breath through his head, Triggerhoof—no, Raspberry Trick—knew he had lost someone he found, and found someone who he lost.

Slowly, Raspberry Trick walked over to Doctor Goodman. He closed the man’s eyes, and laid his hands together on his belly. He almost looked as if he were asleep, and as if someone could wake him up from the dead. Raspberry slipped the gasmask off Goodman’s face, bent down, and nuzzled him as warmly as he could, even though his own gasmask was in the way. A nuzzle, the ultimate sign of love. He should have done that a lot more when Goodman was still alive.

Suddenly, the door opened with a hiss, and Johansson stepped inside. “Nuke has been fixed. I just need to initiate the launching procedure and then we’ll get it flying.”

But Trick didn’t care about the nuke for a moment. He felt what Edward the traitor had felt. Why create even more bloodshed? It’s not going to bring Doctor Goodman back to life. Trick knew that his last wish would be for the missile not to fly. But he also knew that that was impossible; he still had a commander who stood above him.

As Johansson was busy with the keyboard of the computer, Raspberry Trick’s thoughts went to him. He wasn’t angry with Johansson; he had simply reacted to the situation. He neutralized the threat. Yet, couldn’t he have waited for one second longer? Couldn’t he have waited until Trigg was lying on top of Goodman, disarming the man in the flash of a second?

There was no point having vengeance. There was no point in blaming. To Raspberry Trick, he and Johansson were still soldiers on a mission. They were fighting a common enemy, and not each other.

“Well, it’s awfully quiet here,” Johansson said. Actually, the quietness unnerved him. He knew that Raspberry wouldn’t shoot him in the back. But then why were his muscles tense as he typed? Didn’t he trust his own soldiers? No, Johansson whisked the thought away. As he turned around to grab the keys and the launch codes from the desk, he noticed something hanging on the wall. Suddenly, he let out a chuckle. “Would you look at that.”

Trick followed his general’s gaze. There was a box hanging on the wall, with digits and buttons. Raspberry Trick had no idea what it was.

“A radio,” Johansson said. “Now that’s some irony, isn’t it? We didn’t have a radio when we needed one, and now we have a radio but don’t need it. And what a radio it is…” Johansson paused his work to look the thing over. “I bet you can hear what’s going on in the entire state with this monster. Shall we turn it on?”

Raspberry shrugged.

Johansson pushed the button. When the radio came to life and the display fired up, he continued his work, turning his back to Trick. Automatically, the radio tuned in on the nearest signal.

Also automatically, Raspberry Trick’s ears swiveled at the source of the noise. At first there was static, but then, someone’s voice could be heard. The voice proudly recited a slogan, advertising himself.

Wait… advertising? Triggerhoof stood up and turned his head towards the radio. Advertisements and their makers burned with the world long ago.

“…Forget to visit the jewel of Ground Zero; you never know what you might find. Are you looking for weapons? Ammo? Specific parts? Or that one special gift for that special someone? You will find it here in Plaza City.”

Raspberry Trick couldn’t force his ears to turn back. The voice was so pleasant to listen too. He sounded as if he had just bought paradise, and was ready to share it with the world.

That’s a dumb move, mister, Trick thought.

“Everyone is welcome, no matter your nationality, ideology, or naughty past… In here, we are all traders, and we are all family. I assure you, the journey is always worth it. ‘But Mister Rich,’ you ask, ‘I come from so far, and will be too tired to head back.’ No need to fear, my weary travelers. You are all more than welcome to spend the night here—or perhaps even multiple nights—in our underground hotel, safe from bullets and radiation.”

Mister Rich? Raspberry Trick dived into his new memories, trying to recall the name. He had seen it before; he knew that. Yes! There it was! Raspberry had once seen the name ‘Rich,’ on a billboard advertising zap apple jam. The name of the pony was ‘Filthy Rich.’

On the radio, Filthy Rich was rounding up his advertisement. “So remember to come on over to Plaza City, and experience the commercial wonder yourself. Whether you’re a trader or not, you are always welcome at Plaza City. Plaza City, fillies and gent—eh, I mean ladies and gentlemen. Tell it to your fellow soldiers, your worst enemies, your neighbors, or your best friends. Plaza City!”

Filthy Rich stopped talking, and the radio went static. Triggerhoof was still thinking about the words and promises Filthy Rich had blabbered. Then he turned to General Johansson. “Permission to speak, sir?”

“Permission granted,” Johansson said, not taking his eyes off the computer screen.

“You know of this ‘Plaza City,’ don’t you? That was the large trading post you talked about back in Democracity.”

“Yes, you’re right. That’s the one,” Johansson said. “Never been there myself, though. According to the soldiers in Democracity, it’s an underground shopping mall, and the biggest market on Ground Zero. As I told you before, special squadrons often took the trucks, loaded them up, and drove all the way to the place, hoping to trade. It’s just a shame they weren’t very successful.” Johansson went silent for a few seconds, as the painful memory of the Democracity slaughter came to mind. He shook his head, whisking the memories away. “Anyway, those boasts of that man aren’t empty air. It’s supposed to be really special.”

Raspberry Trick pieced the puzzle together. There was another pony there! Silently, Trick wondered just how many Equestrians that terrible storm cloud teleported to Ground Zero.

While he was still thinking and puzzling, the static suddenly stopped. Another voice, a female voice, sounded through the speakers. She sounded so enthusiastic Triggerhoof thought the speakers might burst. “It’s high noon here in wonderful Plaza City, and I have some very interesting news to share with you all. Are you ready to hear it, and be flabbergasted? Yes? Good! Here we go!

“More ponies have arrived here at Plaza City. Incredible, isn’t it? And I always thought Mister Rich and his lovely family were the only ones! Well, apparently not. I have seen them myself, so I can give you faithful listeners a real, super, eye-witness account. There seemed to be four mares, accompanied by one human. One is totally pink and smiling; another is wearing a brown cowboy hat; another one has a horn and a beautifully styled coiffure, and the last one has wings and a horn, and is purple from head to hoof.”

Raspberry Trick surely was flabbergasted. He pressed his ears against the speakers. “The elements! They are at—”

“Plaza City welcomes these four special horses with open arms. According to my sources, they have already had a meeting with our lovely president, Filthy Rich. I’m standing here with Mister Rich in his private cocktail lounge. Mister Rich, can you tell me and all our listeners more about the nature of your conversation?”

After he cleared his throat, Filthy’s pleasant, salesman voice sounded. “I’m afraid that is classified, Miss Jenny. But I can tell you that they are on a special mission, and that they will probably soon return.”

“Oh! Doesn’t that sound exciting? A special mission… What could that be? Oh, I just love the mystery these four ponies are wrapped in. I’m just so eager to get answers, and I bet you are too. Well, stay tuned, because we are going to get at the bottom of this. Next will be an interview with the eight-year-old Sarah, who claims to know more about the ponies. But we’ll find that out, after the break.”

The woman’s voice got replaced by static for a few seconds, and then Filthy Rich began advertising his great Plaza City again. Raspberry Trick turned the volume down. He couldn’t believe it. By sheer coincidence, he had learned the location of the elements of harmony! The thick, black blanket got lifted off his heart, burned away by the power of his new objective. He felt better, he really did. His mission wasn’t over; it had just started. Trick’s head snapped towards Johansson. “Do you know the coordinates?”

Johansson turned around. Where before Trick’s voice had been monotonous, proving that his loss was heavy, now it was full and powerful again. Johansson found that very strange. “Why are you so interested in Plaza City anyway? Because of those mares?”

Raspberry Trick clammed shut. He still didn’t want Johansson to know about his side mission. He wouldn’t understand, and Trick didn’t want to burden him with it.

But Johansson had already noticed the hesitation. “Is there something I should know about?”

Of course, Raspberry Trick would never lie to his superior, so he told him about the mission of Twilight Sparkle and her friends to defeat Chrysalis and the changelings. He left the elements of harmony out of the story, as he knew Johansson wouldn’t understand that part.

After Trick was done, there was a silence. Slowly, Johansson got off his chair and walked towards Trick.

Of course he’s angry, Trick thought. Johansson had one iron rule regarding information: no secrets in his squad.

But instead of taking disciplinary actions, he said, “You should have told me sooner, Triggerhoof. Whatever your plan is, if it defeats those fucking changelings, then count me in. They take second place on my list of worst enemies, and the Russians are going to be crossed off that list. The changelings are next. We are going together to Plaza City, and find your mares.”

Raspberry Trick could hear the hate and vengeance in his general’s voice. He meant what he said, and Trick actually found Johansson’s proposal a good idea. He would make a powerful ally, and he would surely make a difference if they were to attack Chrysalis’s stronghold.

Johansson had the feeling that he owed this to the pony whose friend he had shot. Whatever the mission was, he wanted to face it together with his comrade in arms.

Suddenly, Trick reached out a hoof. The general saluted, and bumped it. “Triggerhoof, now you are the one in charge.”

“Certainly sir,” Trick said, “but there is just one thing.”

“Another mission objective?” Johansson said.

“No sir. I just wanted to point out that my name is not Triggerhoof. It’s Raspberry Trick.”

The alarms rang; the emergency lights were on and flashing. The coordinates were set, the missile was fueled. It was ready to go.

Raspberry Trick still had a double feeling when it came to launching the missile. He knew it was not what Doctor Goodman would have wanted, but he also knew it was necessary. To him, it was still the right thing to do.

Raspberry Trick and General Johansson each stood at a large device with lots of lights, with about two yards between them, so no one person could fire the missile. Johansson looked at Trick, a cold, serious expression on his face. “Raspberry, I will give the sign, and then we both turn the keys and hold them for a few seconds. Got that?”

“Roger,” Trick said.

Johansson nodded. “Very well. When this light here burns, we both head over to the control panel, and see if something happens.”

“Yes sir.”

Johansson looked at Raspberry, as he put the key in the keyhole. Raspberry did the same.

Johansson turned the key. So did Raspberry.

One…

Two…

A little bell rang. Raspberry saw one green light spring to life. “Launch enabled!”

Despite the fact that he knew it would work, Johansson smiled. “Good. All we need to do now is watch and wait.” He turned away from the keyhole and grabbed a bureau chair, sitting down next to Triggerhoof behind the control panel. The panel had six lights, each one representing one step of the launching procedure. None of them was lit.

There they sat, waiting, watching. They looked as if they were watching an exciting football match, and as if they waited for one long-expected goal.

Another light sprang on; ‘power.’

Or maybe they looked like movie enthusiasts, eagerly waiting for the movie to start and get drenched in the action and spectacle. That might be a more accurate simile, because the nuclear missile would certainly make for a lot of action and spectacle.

Another light; ‘silo soft.’

The silo doors had opened, allowing the dog to escape its pen.

A fourth light; ‘guidance go.’

The missile’s guiding system had received the coordinates and was ready to direct the doom to the right place.

Another light; ‘main engine start.’

Despite the fact that the walls of the silo were made of soundproof material, Raspberry Trick and General Johansson felt the vibrations. They had ignition.

The final light flashed on; ‘lift off.’

The rumbling stopped. The alarms stopped. The emergency lights died, and so did the Russians.

“Did… did we do it?” Trick asked carefully, as if the missile might come back and bust the bunker they were in.

General Johansson grabbed the pony’s head. Their foreheads bumped softly against each other. “Yes, we did it.”

“General! We have incoming!”

General Dovchenko looked out of his window. He couldn’t see anything in the skies.

“On the radar, General, on the radar!”

They had—with lots of pain and effort—managed to get the powerful long-distance radar working, when they settled in the radioactive missile silo. General Dovchenko had been more than pleased, and had smiled at the irony that they now owned a weapon that belonged to the Americans. Now he could compare missiles. The only downside was that they had to wear suits inside the bunker as well, and couldn’t stay there for long. The general knew this was but a temporary base, but he vowed not to leave until he had figured out the launch codes. So far, they had come up empty.

The general stood up and walked over to his radar operator. “What the hell is that?!”

The radar operator tried to press a button, but his shaky hands wouldn’t let him. “I-I-It’s moving so fast. I-I-It’s flying so high!”

General Dovchenko moved away from his operator, a bit annoyed by the man’s breaking nerves. “Well, if it flies, we can shoot it out of the air. Maybe it’s a spy plane, like a drone or so or so. Men, prepare the anti-aircraft missiles. We’re gonna take that thing down. Period.”

“GENERAL!”

Dovchenko jumped at the sudden outcry, and turned around. “What is it!”

“I-I-It’s coming down! We cannot possibly hit it on time.”

The general wanted to slap the man in the face and tell him to man up, but then he looked at the display, and fell strangely silent.

That wasn’t like the general. Normally he would curse or scream or take disciplinary action. The silence put the operator on edge. “G-G-General. What is it?”

Dovchenko slowly reached up, grabbed his cap, and held it tightly against his chest. He realized what it was. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, he only knew there was a nuclear missile heading straight for them.

“We fight and die for a cause. But today, we die and die for a cause.”

“…That’s right people, a nuclear detonation on Ground Zero! Eyewitnesses say they saw an enormous ball of light, and a cloud like a blooming mushroom reach for the sky. The explosion could be seen on the other side of the Aurora crater. After interviewing our own Filthy Rich, he said he had no idea what the explosion could have been. He also stated that it had nothing to do with the mission of the four mares.

“Well, I can tell you that I absolutely don’t know if it has really been launched and obliterated its target, or that something else happened, like an accidental meltdown of an old powerplant, or a warhead that accidentally exploded. Let us all hope it is either option two or option three. The last thing this world needs is more candles of life snuffed out by nuclear fire.

“We will later bring up a report from our high-powered Geiger counters to see if any radioactive fallout will—”

Raspberry Trick turned the radio off. Although Johansson was jolly, the launching of the missile left a queasy feeling in Triggerhoof’s stomach.

Intermission: the kill command

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Chrysalis sat on her throne in the inner sanctum of her new palace. She was actually impressed how well the early scouts had done. They had told about a group of mercenaries, including one pony, a red one, carrying two guns at once. Chrysalis had listened with growing enthusiasm to their story, and had complimented them all with a mutation.

She descended the stairs and faced her throne. When a new opening appeared, she could look inside the throne, at the rift. It was a strange phenomenon. It looked as if the air became thick and murky, and was constantly swirling around like a cup of coffee when you stir it.

The rift… Chrysalis considered herself lucky that she got teleported right in the middle of the Aurora crater, where the rift was. The nuclear bomb that had wiped out the city had also weakened the space between the worlds. Now, Chrysalis had an emergency exit, for when things got out of hoof. It really was a shame she couldn’t find a way to communicate with her commanders—and Discord—in Equestria. Silently, she wondered how they would do, and then she grinned. Equestria was hers, and soon, all the ponies would be eradicated in this world, so that the element of kindness will never be found. It was only a matter of time.

Very quickly, Chrysalis had noticed that the metro system around the crater held tons of opportunity. The changelings had rapidly multiplied and explored the land, and had given some valuable information. Apparently, there were still strongholds of human civilization, and there were two major powers in this world; the Americans and the Russians. These powers were well-organized, armed, and clever. But they couldn’t change shape.

Suddenly, a changeling, just a normal one, skittered into the throne hall, its tiny wingbeats echoing in the vast space. The hole in the throne closed, and Chrysalis turned around. “What is it? Another victory, I hope…?”

The changeling bowed. “We do have a victory, my queen. The base is now manned by a battalion of changelings, in case there’s another compound that could take revenge.”

“I take it that everyone has been destroyed?”

The changeling grinned. “And it was delicious.”

“Then you deserve a mutation, my son. But, why does your commander not bring me this news, and sends an emissary instead?”

“He didn’t send an emissary, my queen. The commander is dead.”

Chrysalis flung her wings open. “WHAT?! But, how is that possible? Maxillary was one of my finest creations! I have personally overseen his birth, mutation, and training. How could this happen?!”

Chrysalis’s voice was laden with so much rage that the changeling first had to gather up his nerves again to be able to say anything. “Eh… I saw how, in fact. He died by the hoof of a pony.”

Sighing, grunting, Chrysalis said, “A pony?!”

“That is what I saw.”

Chrysalis did her best to keep her frustration in check; frustration mixed with grief. She had lost one of her many sons and daughters. She sighed once more, before asking, “What did that pony look like?”

“We didn’t see much of him, but he wore a gasmask, and had a bow and arrow.”

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. “A bow and arrow, are you sure?”

“Yes, my queen. I could see the arrow sticking out commander Maxillary’s eye.”

“That’s… interesting…” Chrysalis’s voice rapidly lost volume. It seemed as if she were mumbling to herself now.

The changeling rubbed his muzzle with his hoof. “There’s just one tiny thing…”

“What is it, my child? Don’t be scared.”

“Well…” Despite Chrysalis’s words, the changeling still trembled. “Thanks to the archer pony, a small group of people managed to escape. We did chase them and managed to feed on quite many of them, but a few high-priority targets managed to escape…”

Chrysalis frowned. “Who? Can you tell me?”

“Well, there was actually another pony there too. She was a brown mare with a blonde, short mane. We haven’t heard or seen her, so she might be hiding somewhere…”

“But there’s more…” Chrysalis guessed.

“Yes, my queen. We have also lost sight of the archer pony. He’s gone.” The changeling gazed at the ground in shame.

Slowly, Chrysalis walked towards the changeling, and raised his chin with a hoof. “Don’t worry, my child. We will find the ponies, and we will feed on them as much as we can. It’s just two ponies, and this world is very deadly.”

The changeling nodded. “That is all, Queen Chrysalis.”

“Very well. You may leave.”

As soon as those words left the queen’s mouth, the changeling swiveled around and bolted off. When Chrysalis blinked again, he was gone.

Chrysalis walked towards a peculiar stone. It was broad and flat, with markings all over it. It was Chrysalis’s own map of Ground Zero, based on what her scouts had told her. The Aurora crater and Chrysalis’s palace made up the center of the map, while Russian and American bases dotted the area around. Chrysalis had chosen this location for a purpose. Obviously, men didn’t go into the crater, poisonous and radioactive as it was. No, Chrysalis knew no one would make a move against her. Not the Americans, and not the Russians. As she studied the map and crossed out Democracity, she thought deeply about her next step on the path to total domination.

There was only one big Russian base left, at the other end of the forest. The one next to the Aurora crater had been the first one to fall, and was a bit of a test for her changeling army. She had crossed it off.

Suddenly, a window opened. Changeling hives kept changing and transforming. New exits and entrances appeared and disappeared, and only the changelings knew where to go. Chrysalis walked towards the window and looked outside.

She couldn’t have picked a better time to look at Ground Zero. Through the haze of green and grey, she saw a great fireball, blinking like an eye on the horizon. It flashed to the east, before releasing a large shockwave. Chrysalis saw how the radioactive winds made the scrawny trees kneel, as if they worshipped the ultimate weapon. When that too had passed, a great cloud of smoke crept higher and higher, until it disappeared through the cloud cover like a stairway to heaven.

“Impressive,” Chrysalis said to herself, wondering what formidable weapon had just been deployed.

Gazing spellbound to that ultimate destruction, Chrysalis didn’t hear how the communication scarabs flashed. They opened up, and poured out smoke. Only when she turned around and saw one of her changeling commanders, did she fully return to the here and now again. “Speak!”

The changeling was clad in the commander red armor. There was a forest on the background. “Commander Vestax from the eastern post reporting. It seems that the base of the ‘Russians’ has exploded somehow. Scouts are moving in to check the perimeter.”

“No need,” Chrysalis said with a wave of her hoof. “I saw it too. No one could survive such a blast. It was probably one of those ‘nuclear weapons’ that transformed this land into the paradise it is now. Return to the hive and regroup. We are launching a new attack.”

“Yes, my queen.” The vapors slowly receded, until the image faded.

Chrysalis reckoned that someone else must have had a grudge against the Russians. Probably the Americans, she thought. Well, whoever it was has served me well, and couldn’t have picked a better time.

She walked over to the map, and used her horn to cross out the red base next to the forest. Now there were neither Russian bases nor American bases standing. Her work was almost done. She called for her hive commander, who strode into the room minutes later. He bowed. “My queen.”

“Rise and prepare, Hive Commander. We are beginning our final assault. There is only one big footstep of civilization left that must be wiped out. Only then will we have total dominion, and only then can we assign our full forces to finding the elements of harmony and destroy them. My spies have already told me much about the place. It is supposed to be very popular for both the Americans and the Russians. For some reason, they don’t fight over it.” She swished her tail. “Doesn’t matter. Hive Commander, get our troops in line. Arm our soldiers. We will go to war as soon as everything and everyone is ready. Everyone but the humans.”

“Yes, my queen,” the hive commander said with a salute. But then he realized he forgot something. “Eh… my queen, what is the name of the place we will march upon?”

Queen Chrysalis narrowed her eyes. “My spies told me it’s called ‘Plaza City.’”

“’Plaza City?’ what a peculiar name.”

“Yes,” Chrysalis hissed. “A name that will be wiped off the map.”

Chapter twenty: search and destroy

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The raiders hadn’t followed the terrified Maretown refugees. They were probably already celebrating their victory.

Where Twilight Sparkle and Applejack had helped to heal the people as much as their skills allowed, Rarity and Pinkie had tried their best to cheer them up, however difficult that was. Maretown was lost, and everyone knew that the chance of getting it back was just as big as surviving a casual stroll through the crater; nihil.

Not many people had survived. About two dozen of them were still alive. More often than not women and children, as their husbands had tried to fight the raiders off. Whether they had been brave or stupid, no one could tell. But whatever they had been, no one could deny their devotion to preserving Maretown, their home.

Amanda had driven the tank slowly, so the people could keep up. Mayor Mare had concocted a clever plan. As she walked alongside the people, she mentally prepared a little talk she would have with Filthy Rich. As did Applejack, for that matter.

And now, Plaza City came into view again. Their trip was—hopefully—over. Now they finally had time to rest and grieve and forget.

Of course, the traders and people in Plaza City observed the procession and the arrival of so many people at once with questioning faces underneath their gasmasks. When they saw who were leading the crowd, they were met with even more bafflement. The colorful horses, of whom there were five now, instead of four, looking grim and frazzled and worn-out, had, apparently, returned to the city. Of course, Jenny the reporter fought through the crowd towards the front, eager to get the story on the airwaves and the speakers of Plaza City.

“Can you tell us what happened? Was this your special mission Filthy Rich sent you on? Twilight, what happened to your ear?! Why did you bring those people here? What is going to happen to them? Who is the new pony in your group? Did you fail or succeed in your mission?”

The questions were fired upon them rapidly and in a random order. Nopony said something—nopony but Pinkie Pie. “There was a beautiful village, and we had tea and biscuits in Mayor Mare’s huge house. Then we had an assembly with angry people, and after that, I played hide and seek with Rarity, and won! Can you believe it?”

On one hand, Jenny was glad some of her questions were answered, but on the other hand, Pinkie’s answers only created more riddles in her mind. As she returned to her office, she kept trying to piece the story together by the scraps of information Pinkie had given.

They descended the big, marble staircase, and were led to the pretty door, where Filthy Rich awaited them. But when he saw the bedraggled, soot-covered figures of the ponies—and Twilight with a bloody bandage around her head—his smile disappeared. “I take it your mission didn’t go quite as planned?”

“You’re darn right it didn’t!” Applejack said, stomping her hoof on the ground.

“Whoa, whoa, easy my dear Applejack,” Filthy said. “I’m sure we can have a nice long chat about everything. But first, allow me to take care of your poor friend.” Filthy Rich clapped his hooves twice. In a matter of seconds, a servant came rushing in. Filthy told him to treat Twilight’s wound, and so he did.

Meanwhile, the rest of her friends managed to calm Applejack down, they sat and had a long talk. Pinkie was left outside to ‘go play with the guards.’ She shouldn’t hear a word of what they were telling Filthy. They told about the terrible battle, the string of refugees, and the state of Maretown.

“Well, that’s actually not that bad,” Filthy Rich said, tapping his chin in thought. “I think you have succeeded in your mission after all.”

Applejack jumped up. “Not that bad?! What do you mean, ‘not that bad?!’ It was a total disaster. People have died!”

Filthy Rich raised his hooves. “Now, calm down, Applejack. That is not what I meant. I meant that I can now send some of my army to swipe the place clean, and rebuild Maretown from the ground up. I’m sure I can make it look lovely again. So, that’s why I say, you have completed your mission. Maretown is mine, and you have earned my favor.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Applejack said. “We still haven’t discussed the business part yet. Mayor Mare here is still the owner of Maretown, even though it is temporarily annexed. As soon as your soldiers would clear out the place, Mayor Mare will be the mare in charge.”

Filthy Rich bit his lip. Applejack was right, and he, as an honest businesspony, had to honor this fact. He cleared his throat and loosened his tie. “Very well. You are right, Applejack. Maretown is still legally the property of Mayor Mare, and the only way I’m going to get it is when I buy it from her. So, Miss Mare, what do you want in return for Maretown?”

That was something Mayor Mare had to think about. If she wouldn’t sell it, she was stuck with an invaded village, because Filthy Rich wouldn’t send his army to liberate it, or employ builders to rebuild it. The town would be useless to the people that once inhabited it, and they would never see their homes again.

The people…

The people had to come first. As a leader, her citizens should be priority number one, and she should care for them and help them. That’s why Mayor Mare raised her hoof as if she were going to give a very important speech, and made her decision.

“Let me THE FUCK in!”

That was not what Mayor Mare said; that was someone on the other side of the door. They could hear the sound of heavy hooves upon the marble, the sound of the doorknob turning, and then the thud and splintering of the wood, as Raspberry Trick bucked in Filthy’s poor door—something he was getting very good at.

For a split-second, everypony and Amanda glanced at the strange, blood-red pegasus, his suit strapped open, his gasmask hanging around his neck, and his scarred face twisted into a snarl. Then Amanda stepped up, jumped towards the pegasus, and hugged him. “Triggerhoof! Is it really you?”

Normally, Raspberry Trick would shove off anyone who even thought about hugging him. But now, he felt that hugging was what was best for Amanda. “Yes, Amanda. I’m back. I’m alive, and… I am happy to see you too. I thought you were dead.”

“And I thought you were dead!” Amanda said, her voice cracked. Already there were tears pearling off her cheeks.

Raspberry Trick gently ended the embrace. The corner of his mouth twisted into a half-smile. “And I am also happy to say that I brought a friend…”

“Trick! Wait up!” another voice shouted from behind.

But Filthy Rich was not going to let another intruder step through his door. “Guards! Guards!” he yelled. “Where are my guards?!”

“Why, playing with Pinkie Pie, of course,” Rarity said, and couldn’t help but smile.

Seconds later, a bearded man, wearing full soldier’s garb—helmet, bullet-proof vest, suit—appeared in the doorway.

“General Johansson!”

Now it was the general’s turn to be abashed, as Amanda ignored all soldier’s protocol and trapped Johansson in an embrace too. “I-I-I didn’t know where you were,” Amanda said. “I was going to look for you, but instead, I found these mares.”

“The elements of harmony,” Trick said, as he let his gaze scan all the ponies in the room. It looked as if he were threatening them all, as the guns strapped to his barrel moved from pony to pony too.

“What in the hay is the meaning of this?” Filthy Rich shouted.

“Shut up, moneybag,” Trick barked, “I’m talking with the elements here.”

Such power was in Trick’s voice, that Filthy Rich said nothing more. That, and he got two guns aimed at him.

Twilight Sparkle stood up, and stuck out a wing, as if she wanted to shield Filthy Rich from the pegasus. “We are… eh… very glad to see you again, Mister Triggerhoof. It’s been a long time since we met.”

“Yes,” Trick said, “and I should have stayed with you. I should have helped you there and then.” Reaching back, Triggerhoof bit the belt buckle and loosened the straps that held his guns. They clattered to the ground. “I came here to help you, to offer my guns to your cause. I came here to swear my fealty to you, as that is what Zecora wanted.”

“What Zecora wanted?!” Twilight exclaimed, “she’s here too?”

Raspberry Trick said, “Yes,” and then quickly summarized his adventures in the forest with Zecora. The ponies couldn’t believe what they heard. They wanted to help her immediately, but also knew that would be difficult.

Taking out his GPS, Trick said, “I’ve got her location on the GPS.” He tossed the thing to Twilight, who caught it with her wing. “You can always go back and help your zebra friend.”

“That’s… mighty kind of you,” Applejack said.

“Indeed it is…” Rarity added. Where before Applejack and Rarity had been unpleasantly surprised by Trick’s behavior during their first meeting, now they saw this pony was different from the one they had met. Something had changed. It wasn’t much, but it was something, although neither of them could lay a hoof on it.

Twilight looked from the GPS back to Raspberry Trick, still weary of the situation. “If you’re really here for us, then we would very much like to know what it is you want.”

“We want to help you,” General Johansson said, stroking Amanda’s head and gently nudging her aside. “Raspberry Trick here said you were on a mission, possibly a combat mission. We are soldiers, and we stand by your side.”

“Oh, wow. That’s… good?” Twilight said.

At the same time, Raspberry Trick and General Johansson gave a salute. Then Johansson said, “So what do we have?”

Twilight tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Guns, soldiers, artillery, explosives, intel on the enemy, on the battleground, your battle plan,” Trick clarified.

“Well… eh… nothing.”

Mayor Mare, who had watched the whole scene with wonder and amazement, continued where she left off, as she saw opportunity. She looked at Filthy Rich, and addressed him as if this whole soldier reunion had never happened. “Mister Rich, could you provide us with everything this… eh… gentlecolt just summed up?”

Filthy Rich saw what direction Mayor Mare had in mind. “You want to have a slice of my army in exchange for the neighborhood?” he shrugged. “That seems like a fair deal, I’d say. You can have two companies, three hundred soldiers. Accord?”

“But not only that,” Mayor Mare said, who wasn’t done yet. “I want you to take care of the refugees from Maretown. Give them food and water, give them a place to sleep, and, once you have recaptured and restored Maretown, you will let them live their lives there as if nothing happened—if they want, of course.”

Filthy Rich straightened his tie. “That’s a lot to promise for a small piece of land…”

“But a small piece of good land,” Mayor Mare said. “Good land without irradiated soil or irradiated skies. A place where you and whoever else can live in safety, as if the catastrophe that destroyed this world never happened.”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Filthy Rich was playing a game, but, unfortunately for him, Mayor Mare saw that. There was nothing he could do to cheapen the price. He just wanted that land—so badly. He too, wanted to live the dream Mayor Mare described so vividly; a chance for him and his family to live a normal life in a world ravaged by war. That’s why, after a long and drawn-out sigh, he admitted his defeat, and said, “Accord.”

“Wonderful!” Mayor Mare stuck out a hoof, and they shook hooves. The deal was done.

They spent the rest of the day on one of the lower—and richer—sublevels. There was a small cocktail bar with a bartender who behaved as if the world had never ended, able as he was to still do a normal job in the world.

Amanda, General Johansson, Raspberry Trick, and Twilight Sparkle sat together around a table. They took the responsibility of leadership. Mayor Mare was there too, hoping that she could help in some way, even though she knew she hadn’t much to offer them. Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie went off to explore Plaza City, but were sure to stay underground, as they knew that would be the safest thing to do.

They sat together, planning and plotting the upcoming battle. Filthy Rich had given them everything they needed; soldiers, about three hundred of them—half of Filthy’s army—armed and ready for battle. The plan was to split up, and attack from two directions at once. Johansson wanted to stay with Filthy Rich’s army, and lead them into battle. Raspberry Trick and Amanda were supposed to go with Twilight Sparkle and her friends, and attack from another direction. They were going to board the Winter, drive as deep in enemy territory as they could, and then make their move, while the army would provide cover and a distraction. They were convinced by Trick’s statement that a good distraction is really helpful. Of course, General Johansson knew all too well that was true.

When both clock-hands pointed at twelve, they were done with their battle plan. The tasks were divided, and everyone knew what role they had to play. “Are you really sure this assault will work?” General Johansson said. “It’s not as if I don’t trust you all. I mean, we have a battle plan. It’s just that I don’t want to lead my troops into a suicide mission.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded. “I understand what you mean. I think it’s safe to say that everyone will be doubtful about the outcome of the battle. My answer is ‘no,’ I don’t know if the assault will work.”

“What do you mean?” Raspberry Trick said. He didn’t like the sound of this.

Sighing, Twilight said, “We were supposed to make a stand against Chrysalis when the elements of harmony would be together. We still need to find one element; our friend Rainbow Dash. Without her, the elements will not have maximum power. She is still somewhere here on Ground Zero.”

Raspberry Trick slammed a hoof on the table. “But we have to attack now! Democracity is lost, and I’m sure the changelings will attack another major base or compound soon. Hell, they might just choose to destroy Plaza City. It’s so close to the crater and important to all the people of Ground Zero. I can’t even guess why they haven’t attacked yet. We have an army now. We have weapons now. Now is our opportunity to strike. It’s not gonna get better than this.”

“I agree with Trick,” Johansson said. He briefly paused, and rubbed his face with his hand. “Democracity was a slaughter, it really was.”

Twilight nodded. “I understand your arguments. As much as I hate to admit it, I am afraid that we will have to attack Chrysalis without the element of loyalty. You are both right; we have a golden opportunity now. I just… I just hope we’ll get a chance to find her afterwards.”

Suddenly, Mayor Mare raised a hoof. “Princess Twilight, I couldn’t help but notice that you said you need only one element, but you told me that two are missing; loyalty and kindness.”

Twilight’s look of despair changed, as a knowing smile curled on her lips. She looked at Mayor Mare. “No, Mayor, we are just one element short, as we have found the element of kindness already, in Maretown.”

Mayor Mare’s mind worked on these words. She began thinking about other ponies that lived in Maretown. But there weren’t any other ponies living in Maretown. Could a human be the element, then? Suddenly, realized what Twilight meant. She let out a big gasp, her mouth open and her eyes big. “You mean… You mean I…”

“Am the element of kindness,” Twilight said.

Mayor Mare looked at everyone in turn, as if she waited for someone to clarify. “But… how? Why? Are you sure?”

Twilight took Mayor Mare’s hoof in her own. “We saw how you ruled Maretown, how you tried to solve the argument to fight or flee. We saw how you tried so desperately to avoid any bloodshed, up until the very last moment. And when the raiders did attack, we saw how you immediately thought about the poor citizens, and wanted to help them together with Applejack. No, Mayor Mare. There is no doubt in my heart. You are the element of kindness.”

Still, Mayor Mare couldn’t believe it. If Twilight hadn’t told her right here, right now, she knew she would never have come to that conclusion herself. “I… I can’t believe it.”

“But I can, Mayor,” Twilight said. “All my friends and I know for sure that you are one of us.”

Mayor Mare shook her head. “But that means I must go with you. I must go and fight our way through the changelings, and confront Chrysalis.”

Sighing, Twilight said, “I’m afraid so. I know that I can never ask something like that from you, especially after everything that happened in Maretown. Yet still, there is no other—”

“Don’t you worry, Twilight, I will go.” Mayor Mare winked. “This old Mare is still bucking, and ready for the world, however cruel it is.”

Instantly, Twilight’s smile returned. “Thank you, Mayor Mare. Thank you so much.”

“I would do anything to help save lives, whether here or in Equestria, it doesn’t matter,” Mayor Mare said solemnly.

“We know, Mayor. We know…”

As they all went to the sleeping quarters Filthy Rich assigned them, Amanda knew it was time to make her move. The conversation about the missing elements had caused goosebumps on her skin. She felt as if she were lying to them, and, in a sense, she was. But that had to change. She had to tell them. Now.

Amanda slept with the ponies, while Trick and Johansson had their own room. Their bedchambers were actually two different bed stores, so they had plenty of beds and mattresses to choose from. When everypony was inside, and Amanda closed the door, she knew it was time.

But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t find the right words to tell what she wanted to tell. She wanted to tell it gently, wrapped in the right words so that it wouldn’t shock them. Of course, there was no way to do that.

“Is something wrong Amanda?” Pinkie said. She had seen her mulling. “Why the frowny face?”

Amanda stiffened. She should have hidden her sorrows better. She was just about to say that is was nothing, when a surge of courage made her speak the words. “Everypony, I… I have something to tell you all.”

Everypony turned their eyes to Amanda.

Amanda didn’t look back; she looked at the ground. “I… have something t-t-to tell you all, and I should have told you sooner. You see, Rainbow Dash, I… I found her but she… she…” And that was when the tears came. Her voice was so broken by sadness that she was unable to speak the words. She didn’t even need to, as Twilight Sparkle guessed what Amanda tried to say, and she guessed right.

“Come on, come on, Amanda, spill it!” Pinkie said, bouncing up and down.

Twilight Sparkle unfolded her wing and laid it on Pinkie’s shoulder. She tried to hide her tears. “I’m afraid Rainbow Dash is going to play with Fluttershy now, Pinkie.”

“Oh…” Pinkie said, all the enthusiasm gone from her voice. “Well, I hope they have fun together.”

“We hope so too, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “We hope so too.”

Slowly, everypony walked towards Amanda, and sat down in a circle on the floor. Amanda joined them, and began to explain just what exactly had happened with Rainbow Dash. Sometimes, her story became interrupted by tears, and then the ponies too, had to cry. She told about the Russians, how they had captured Rainbow Dash; about her quick conversation with her in the prison cell; and about her execution. The last part was the hardest to tell. Amanda just couldn’t express what vile thing had happened. She ended her story in tears.

“And I am so, so sorry, everypony,” she said, her head buried in her hands. “I should have done something, but I just didn’t know what. A-a-and I should have told you sooner. It was just… it was just…”

Twilight folded a wing around the sobbing woman. “Don’t worry, Amanda, we understand. We’re not angry. We’re just… having trouble accepting yet another loss.”

And so the evening ended in complete silence. Twilight, Amanda, and Rarity sobbed softly, as they couldn’t get the picture of the execution out of their minds. Applejack pushed the sadness away with anger—anger aimed at the Russians. If she would ever see one of them, she swore she would let him have a taste of her hooves. Pinkie Pie was in deep thought, wondering what games Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash were playing in the afterlife. They had all gained one element of harmony, but lost another.

In the end, they all fell asleep, exhausted as they were. They all dreamed about Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, alive and safe. But the dreams of Raspberry Trick and General Johansson were filled with war.

The next day, it was time to take inventory. General Johansson and Raspberry Trick took a good look at the three hundred soldiers they had. They were gathered outside on Ground Zero, and every one of them stood in tight formation. General Johansson stood on a pile of rocks, with Triggerhoof next to him, overseeing the troops. The ponies and Amanda weren’t there with them, but had retreated together. They were not in the mood to see any more soldiers and guns.

“Present arms!” Johansson called. Some of the soldiers raised their weapons, and some had no idea what they should do.

Trick and Johansson looked them over. Their army was a mishmash of professional soldiers, mercenaries, thugs, and ex-commandos. All of them had different guns, and all of them looked differently. The military veterans were clad in black Kevlar, while the mercenaries and guns for hire had leather padding and ammunition belts slung over their shoulders. And now it was General Johansson’s job to let them fight together, to create one army out of them. But Johansson knew how to do that; by emphasizing the common enemy.

“I’m not going to lie, soldiers, this fight is gonna be tough,” Johansson said, pacing around on the natural platform. “We know we are outnumbered, but… we are not outgunned. It is not raiders, reds, or other scum we are going to fight. No, we are going to fight changelings.”

And this was where Raspberry Trick took the word. His voice was rough and powerful, the voice of a professional soldier. “The changelings are unlike anything you’re used to. They are about my height and size, and with wings too.” He flapped his wings to show them. “Also, they are poisonous, and any bite is sure to leave you dead in a matter of minutes. Trust me, I speak from experience.

“So the nature of our enemy is special. The changelings can change. They can shapeshift into any other thing or creature, so also into you and your fellow soldiers. You must all watch your backs, and keep a firm grip on your guns. The changelings cannot conjure objects out of thin air, like guns, so that’s gonna be our code. If you see a soldier moving in our ranks without a gun, shoot him on sight.”

The crowd of soldiers shuffled uneasily. Trick saw that. “Stand still, you bloody wimps. Just keep your gun where it belongs; in your hand. It’s that fucking simple!”

Raspberry Trick cleared his throat, and continued the briefing. “Something else they can do is leech on your positive memories and your love. This ability also works if you’re wearing gasmasks. The changeling will make sure you stay put, open its mouth, and feed on the love in your soul.”

“Bullshit!” one of the soldiers shouted.

Trick jumped, landed, and swiped his tail. Before the man knew what hit him, he lay outstretched on the ground. “Do you think I’m joking?” Trick snapped. “Then I want to talk to you again when the changeling has fed on you. I want to talk to you again after the love is gone from your soul, leaving just a black, empty hole. I want to talk to you again when the skin of your face gets ripped off your skull, and your eyes incinerate. I want to talk to you again if you’re still alive after that, and not screaming for every fucking god you know.” Trick paused to pretend to be thinking. “Or… on the other hand, I don’t want to talk to you again. I want total obedience, or people will get killed, and I don’t want to have this talk with every fucking soldier here. And as for you—” Trick bent down; their gasmasks bumped together—"I’ll be sure to place you in the front ranks.”

Johansson watched the scene. “Triggerh—eh, I mean Raspberry, I think he gets the message. Why don’t you stand up here with me again, and resume the briefing.”

Without a word, Raspberry Trick turned around and jumped on top of the rocks again. He took a moment to throw a nasty glance to every soldier, before he started talking again. “Everything I told you, applies to both the normal changelings as well as the elite ones. Now, the elite ones are the real bastards. They can shoot a magical energy lance from the tip of their horns, which will incinerate you, and give you a nice souvenir.” Trick turned his head, so the others could see his scars through the visor of his gasmask. “They can also shoot sticky goo, immobilizing you or disarming you. As I said, keep… your… gun… in… your… hand! The last thing I have seen them do is leech life. Where the regular changelings can only take away your love and positivity, the elite changelings can drink the life right out of you. You don’t want that to happen. If you find yourself caught by an elite changeling, and you have no way to free yourself, then put your pistol against your head and shoot. Trust me, that’s what you want to do.

“And that’s about it. That’s all we know of the elite changelings. Maybe they have even more abilities, but then that will be a surprise for us. Isn’t that fun?”

The troops said nothing. Even the most ruthless warriors were now looking at the blood-red pegasus, impressed. If the enemy was really as powerful as he described, then he did a hell of a job at fighting one.

Raspberry Trick looked the soldiers over, and then spoke about the positive parts. “So now we know what they can do against us, but what can we do against them? The normal changelings can be killed with any weapon; bullets, grenades, knives—everything. But the elite changelings are a different story. I emptied two magazines of heavy caliber assault rifle rounds on one of those bastards. It did nothing. I guess their hides must be like our Kevlar vests or so. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you can only harm them with every sharp weapon you have. Knives, bayonets, tomahawks, etcetera. Hell, if you can find a sword, I say go for it. Aim at the shoulders, the eyes and the neck; those are the open spots in their armor.”

The troops mumbled a bit. Some soldiers were already busy putting their bayonets on the barrels of their guns.

“Are there any questions so far?” Trick said.

A man raised his hand. “I have one, sir.”

“Shoot.”

“Can we actually win this battle?”

To that, Raspberry Trick frowned, and looked the man straight in the eyes. “I have no idea.”

The rest of the briefing was spent telling the men about the terrain, some specific tactics they could deploy, and maneuvers they could use. They also practiced, playing different scenarios out on the bleached fields around Plaza City. A throng of people left the traders in the city alone to gather in front of the shopping mall, so they had a good view of the soldiers. Naturally, Jenny the reporter had told the citizens of Plaza City all about the upcoming fight against the changelings. Now the people also knew that they were in danger, and that they should be ready for anything.

As the army moved in tight formation, General Johansson and Raspberry Trick stood by and watched. Johansson crossed his arms. “Are you ready?”

Trick looked up to his general. “What do you mean, sir?”

“Well, you’ve made sure that our soldiers are ready, with the briefing and all, but I was wondering if you are ready.”

There was silence for a moment. Trick considered whether or not to tell Johansson what he really thought. But, as mentioned before, Trick would never lie against his superior. “I am not, sir, and I never will be.”

“Why?”

“The crater, sir.”

Johansson nodded. “The radiation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t worry, I understand.”

Suddenly, Raspberry Trick felt the urge to speak out his heart with his general—his friend. It was completely against his nature, yet, he figured that if they might die—and the chances of that were pretty high—they might as well share their thoughts. “It’s just… the idea of an enemy which you can’t see, smell, hear, touch, taste, or feel… It freaks me out. I can’t do anything against radiation, just making sure it doesn’t enter your body and fuck up your bones. Back in… back in Equestria, there was no radiation at all. I guess I never got used to it here on Ground Zero.”

“I understand,” Johansson said again.

“It’s that, and… and I would like to go to my parents. I would like to see them, just for a second, and tell them I remember, tell them I am really their son, and not just a soldier.”

“That’s something we can all relate to.”

“Yeah.”

On a command of one of the soldiers, the formation changed. They now stood in a circle, back to back, as if they were making one final stand against the imaginary enemy. Both Raspberry Trick and Johansson knew that they would use that maneuver. There was no doubt about that.

“And I want to see Doctor Goodman,” Trick said, completely out of the blue.

Johansson tensed. He cracked his fingers.

“I wanna say to him that I didn’t shoot him, before I go down to hell. Do you think I’ll get that chance?”

Johansson thought for a moment, scratching the back of his head. “Well, Goodman used to say that God is merciful, so yes, I think you’ll be able to see him.”

Raspberry Trick nodded. “And are you ready?” he asked. “Are you ready to fight?”

“I am,” Johansson said. “I am ready to fight for a cause and die for a cause.”

“And so am I, sir.

“And I have seen that,” Johansson said. “Who would be so crazy as to fight countless Russians to protect some random bunch of people in a bunker? Who would be so crazy as to fight changelings and nearly die to get a radio part? Who would be so crazy to fly halfway through the state in order to find his people, and be reunited with his friends? Who would be so crazy as to save his friends in a daring rescue mission from hundreds of changelings? And who would be so crazy to go on a suicide mission to get those magical… artifacts?”

“Elements, sir. The elements of harmony.”

“Yes, that.”

Raspberry Trick shrugged. “No idea, sir. I think it’s in my nature or something.”

“If that’s true, then you are a valuable ally, Raspberry Trick. I really hope you’ll succeed in your mission.”

“And I hope you won’t all get slaughtered by those damn changelings,” Trick said.

Johansson patted the pony on the head. “Raspberry, even if it gave you one extra second of time, I would fight and die and be a legendary distraction.”

To that, both soldiers grinned. The tension was out of the air.

But there was also something in the air. Raspberry’s ears swiveled backwards, as they caught a sound. It was like a distant hum. At first, he thought it was the tension flowing away from the air around them. But then he realized that was total bullshit. When he turned around, he saw something approaching, but, as far as he could see, it wasn’t changelings. It looked like a big, black cloud heading for Plaza City, ready to unleash its radioactive rain upon the bleached soil. Johansson saw it too. “You think we should make sure everyone is inside? Not everyone in that crowd has protective suits.”

“Yeah… I guess…” Trick’s voice was absent, as he continued to observe the cloud. It came ever closer. Trick thought it moved awfully fast for a raincloud. And the sound increased as well. Do radioactive clouds hum because they are radioactive?

But Raspberry Trick had read a book about radiation, as he had wanted to study his worst enemy. There was nothing in those books about humming clouds. Gamma rays make no sound.

The cloud came closer. Trick saw what it was.

“Sound the alarm! Sound the FUCKING alarm!”

One of the spectators heard Raspberry’s cry. Just a few moments later, an airhorn resounded, and everyone retreated inside.

“Soldiers, regroup! This is not a drill!” General Johansson shouted. Immediately, as practiced, the soldiers lined up before the pile of rocks, while some manned the big Howitzer cannons. They awaited the command.

With the sound of the airhorn, Raspberry Trick felt the adrenaline surge through his body like an electric river. His senses primed, his muscles quivered. War was upon him, and it felt good.

But… where were the ponies?

“Oh shit!” Raspberry said, as he realized that. He turned towards General Johansson one last time, and saluted. “I’ll see you again, sir. And if not, it has been an honor serving you.”

Johansson crouched down, grabbed Raspberry’s head, and gently made their foreheads touch each other; Johansson’s more badass version of a hug. “It’s like the Romans used to say; ‘those who are about to die, salute you.’”

Raspberry Trick had no idea what he meant, but patted the general on the back, and then took to the air. He shot into Plaza City, where many frightened people were either trying to find cover or trying to find their guns. When Raspberry Trick reached the big staircase, he already saw Amanda, Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Mayor Mare scaling it. Trick met them halfway. “Let’s go, everyone! Let’s go to the tank!”

“Yes sir,” Amanda said, “pave the way!”

That was exactly what Raspberry did. As Twilight and her friends ran, Raspberry Trick flew ahead, waving his hooves, cursing, shouting, and shooting warning shots, so that the panicked population of Plaza City moved out of the way. They ran over to the withered bushes, where the Winter was hidden. Amanda opened the hatch, crawled inside, and scooted into the driver’s seat. Twilight sat in the co-pilot seat, ready to help Amanda if needed; Pinkie Pie manned the gun, excited as she was to actually fire it; Rarity tried to stay out of the way as much as possible, and kept an eye on the radar; Applejack got behind the heavy machine gun; and Mayor Mare sat behind Amanda and Twilight, ready to give advice.

And then they had a problem.

With so many ponies in one tank, it became really cramped. There was no way another pony could take place.

Raspberry sighed. “I get it, I get it… Just don’t stand in my way when I shoot.”

Chuckling, Amanda said, “Roger that, Commander Trick.”

The engine rumbled to life. Trick took to the sky. They were ready to go. Amanda drove the tank around Plaza City. When she rounded the bend, however, she let go of the steering wheel.

“Oh my God!”

The cloud had almost reached the city, and Amanda could make out the individual changelings as specks in the gloom. There were easily three thousand of them. The air kept droning and rumbling like the tank, as their wings flapped, and they neared the enemy.

So that meant that every soldier had to kill at least ten changelings. The sooner they started fighting, the better. That was exactly what General Johansson and his army did. The first bang could be heard. The first plume of smoke could be seen. The battle had started.

General Johansson had ordered an artillery strike. After the first, nine other explosions sounded, almost at the same time. The shells flew high up in the air. When Amanda looked closer, she saw some specks raining down. The shells had found their mark.

Raspberry Trick landed at one of the large Howitzer artillery guns, and helped with the reloads. There was a continuous serenade of exploding shells, accompanied by the droning of the changelings’ wings, and their shrieks and battle cries.

Hatch open, empty shell out, new shell in, primer, fire. Hatch open, empty shell out, new shell in, primer, fire. Raspberry Trick worked like a machine of war to feed a machine of war. He didn’t pay much attention to the changelings; he let another person aim. But his attention was quickly drawn to the changelings anyway, as the front ones had reached the soldiers. Triggerhoof could actually hear Johansson’s battle cry, as he stormed into the fight. The other soldiers soon followed. They ran over the hill to face their enemy, three hundred men, three hundred guns.

The men at the Howitzers abandoned the artillery, grabbed their rifles, and moved towards the battleground. Already the sound of rifles could be heard, chattering and barking lead. Trick pulled the bolts of his twin assault rifles back with his wings, checked his quiver with arrows and his bow slung around his shoulders, and followed the other soldiers.

Amanda drove the tank around the charging soldiers, so she could defend their flanks. As soon as she reached the side, the soldiers reached the changelings too. She could see battle all around her. Changelings were snarling, biting. Men were shooting, shouting. Amanda turned around. “Somepony man the main cannon.”

“Already on it, Amanda,” Pinkie said.

They had been so wise as to restock the Winter, and now it was time to put those new shells to good use.

“Good,” Amanda said. “Shoot at the changelings, especially the red ones if you can spot them. Aim deep into their ranks, and be careful not to shoot too close to our soldiers.”

Rarity perked up. “And, Pinkie Pie, while you are allowed to aim, you are not allowed to see where your shot lands, ok?” It was a desperate attempt at keeping Pinkie Pie away from the horrors of war.

“Don’t worry, Rarity,” Amanda said. “She can’t see anything through the smoke from the barrel.”

“Ah, good,” Rarity said. “I’d say our situation is already quite dire.”

“Did you say fire?” Pinkie said.

Rarity waved a hoof. “No!”

BOOM!

To her right, Amanda could see how a fountain of smoke rose around a crater in the ground. The changelings were blasted to pieces.

With a clunk, the empty shell fell to the ground. “Oh! Is that my reward?” Pinkie said, eyeing the smoking brass casing.

“Eh… no, Pinkie,” Rarity said. “You’ll get a reward… at the end… yes. Now, it means there must be a new… eh… tube in, so you can fire on.”

“Roger that!” Pinkie began reloading the gun as if she had reloaded a million guns before.

Mayor Mare looked at her swift and sure movements. “Wow, Pinkie! Do you have experience with guns?”

“Years of party cannon blasts,” Pinkie said, and peered through the scope again.

“Fight! Fight! Don’t let them pass!” General Johansson shouted, inspiring his troops. So far, everything went well. The guns kept roaring, and the changelings kept falling. Most of them had already landed or were flying low, so the soldiers had an easy time shooting them out of the air.

Johansson had only spotted five or six human corpses, but already the changelings were forming a large heap. With a chuckle, Johansson reckoned they must climb over it to get to the crater. If the battle would continue to be like this, they wouldn’t just prevent the changelings from entering—they would actually drive them back! That was exactly the intention.

Suddenly, he felt something bump him. He turned around, swiveled his gun, and almost shot Raspberry Trick.

“A lovely place to meet,” Johansson said, as he shot a changeling heading for his throat.

“I’m glad to stand back to back with you, sir.” Raspberry Trick reckoned he could stay here and fight alongside his general for a while, while Amanda drove the tank onwards. “Let’s push forward, so we’ll get closer to the crater.”

“Roger that,” Johansson said. “Everyone! Let’s move!”

“Look!” Amanda said, pointing ahead. “There’s the small town. We can find an entrance there easily.” The only thing was, that there was a whole cohort of changelings standing in the way. They hissed and put their heels in the ground, ready to withstand the tank.

“Well, I don’t know what they think they are doing…” Amanda said. “Pinkie, fire!”

“Yes, my name is Pie,” Pinkie said.

“Not Pie, FIRE!” Applejack called.

“Hey, you don’t have to yell, you know?” Pinkie said, returning to the cannon. She swiveled the barrel around, took aim, and fired.

Now the changelings knew what they were dealing with. As they saw their comrades being shredded to pieces, they quickly made way for the tank.

Amanda let the engine roar, driving forwards at full speed. She drove through a couple of streets, where no changelings had yet settled into an ambush. As she rushed straight through a half-crumbled brick house, she saw the exact thing she had been looking for; a stairway down into the metro.

Raspberry Trick saw the tank speed ahead. He also saw that there were a couple of changelings following, flying in mid-air so the tank couldn’t shoot them or see them.

“I guess you gotta go, Trick,” Johansson said. “They need you.”

Raspberry Trick bit his lip. A changeling charged towards him. He twirled aside, let the changeling pass, and fired a burst of lead in its ass. “Are you sure, sir? The red-armored changelings haven’t yet shown themselves. I would much rather stay with you and make sure—”

“They need you, Trick! I think you are worth more to them than you realize.”

“But—”

“Stick to the goddamn plan, Trick. I’ll be fine. Now that’s an order. GO!”

Johansson said it loud and clear. Raspberry Trick took to the sky, and bolted after the tank.

Clang, clang.

“Something landed on the tank,” Twilight said. “Pinkie, get to the periscope.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Pinkie scooted over to the periscope, unfolded it, and looked. Everypony started when Pinkie let out a terrible shriek.

“What is it? What do you see?” Rarity said, clutching at her hearth with her hoof.

“Oh, heh, never mind, everypony. It’s just Triggerhoof. Hi, Triggerhoof!”

Indeed, Raspberry Trick was standing on the tank, as it neared its goal. He had to make sure that no changeling saw what they were about to do. He aimed for them and fired. They rolled and twirled through the air, avoiding Trick’s bullets.

“Ok, fuck it!” Trick reached back, got his bow, nocked two arrows, and fired them simultaneously.

One changeling got a third eye; another a second mouth. Both changelings thudded to the ground.

Suddenly, the rumbling stopped. Raspberry knew what that meant. He quickly jumped off the tank, and met up with the rest.

“Well look at that,” Rarity said, “he actually showed up.”

“Of course!” Trick snapped, “we had a battle plan, and we had an agreement.”

“Will you stop bickering and get into the metro already?” Applejack said.

Raspberry Trick and Amanda turned on their flashlights. The horns of Rarity and Twilight began to glow. Together, they descended.

When Raspberry Trick and General Johansson had drilled their fighting force, Amanda had taken the time to make preparations of her own. She unfolded the map of the metro she got. In the middle was a big circle; the threshold of the Aurora crater. She jabbed a finger at the map. “Okay, we went in at Hope Station, so we should be here.”

“Quite fitting, that name,” Rarity remarked.

Amanda chuckled. “Yes, it is. Now, we have to go through a few tunnels. There’s this long tunnel we’re in now, and then we’ll enter the fun part.”

Raspberry Trick followed Amanda’s finger, as she entered the circle. Trick tried to sound indifferent. “The crater.”

“Yes,” Amanda said. “We’ll have to keep following the tunnels, and go through two stations, before we reach the part we want to be. Then we’ll be in the exact center of the Aurora crater.”

Where the radiation will be the worst, Trick thought, but said nothing. He swallowed, and tasted something funny in his mouth. He took a deep breath, masking it as a sigh, and said, “Roger that. Let’s get moving, everybody.”

General Johansson and his army had driven the changelings quite far back. They were retreating now towards the ruined village, and even further, to the crater. The changelings had discovered that the army had guns, and weren’t afraid to use them. They tried haphazardly to regroup and launch another attack, but many of them panicked and flew off towards the hive.

The army stormed the village. Johansson was not that happy with being in the village; now the changelings could take cover behind the buildings. He was afraid for guerilla warfare. But, as it turned out, the changelings were far too afraid of the army and its firepower. Only a handful of hardy changelings decided to stay in the village, using the houses as cover, hiding behind them and creeping closer.

But when Johansson and his group trained their guns on some suspicious movement behind some buildings, it turned out to be one of their own. A man with a black suit and Kevlar stepped from behind the buildings. Seconds later, he was followed by other members of the team.

“Oh, there you are,” a soldier to Johansson’s right said, “we were wondering where our east flank ran off to.” He swung his gun to his back and stepped closer to his comrades.

Johansson himself put one and one together. Why were they facing the opposite direction? Why did they look so clean and unscathed? And, above all, why didn’t they have any guns?

“Fire! Fire!” Johansson yelled. “Don’t let them get close.”

The illusion broke. In a flash of green light, six changelings appeared. With more flashes of light, Johansson’s squad eradicated them.

“Well, this is easy,” Johansson said to himself, as his target went down. But easy as it seemed, he also realized that the real challenge had yet to come. This first wave had been a test; a test to see how the army would react to a threat, how they would move, how they would fight, who was in command. This had been a ‘test wave’ to gather information about the enemy. The worst had yet to come. Johansson knew that.

Johansson watched his men. “Conserve your ammo, everybody, and keep your knives ready! I think we’ll get some special guests soon.”

Step by step, the ponies and Amanda moved through the tunnels. They were on high alert, because they had spotted some of those hanging membranes. Slime had covered the ground. They were fresh. Their flashlights skittered over the walls and the arched roof of the metro tunnel, checking every spot, every shift of shadows, and every sound. They kept their guns at the ready, their fingers on the triggers and the safety catches off.

Rarity, who grew increasingly worried with every minute in the tunnels, and every second of tense silence, finally couldn’t bear it any longer. She had to talk, or she would go mad. “Miss Amanda, what is the name of the next station, might I ask?”

“Endeavor,” Amanda said, “Endeavor Station.”

“Thank you. And the name of the one after that?” Rarity was trying to make small talk, but Amanda had to focus.

“Stand Station.”

“Oh, ok.” So much for conversation.

They reached a curve in the tunnel, where the rails slithered to the right, forming a bend. They kept following the rails, and rounded the corner. As soon as they did, Rarity let out a shriek.

“Everypony, RUN! Changelings!” The ponies turned around and ran for their lives. Twilight’s mind was already feverishly working on some way to camouflage themselves, just as they did when they sneaked into Canterlot Castle.

But, Amanda and Raspberry Trick didn’t move. They kept standing still, eyeing the changelings.

There was an awkward moment in which the changelings looked at the human and the pony, and Amanda and Trick looked back. No one moved.

“How many do you think there are?” Amanda said.

“Two dozen. Maybe more,” Trick replied.

Some of the changelings began skittering closer, moving on the ground, sideways on the wall, and upside down on the roof.

“You got enough ammo?” Trick asked Amanda.

“Yes.”

Some changelings took to the air. Almost all of them opened their mouths to reveal a nasty, forked tongue. The tunnel became filled with hisses and curses.

But Amanda and Raspberry Trick weren’t afraid at all—they were just normal changelings.

Trick took aim; so did Amanda. “Fire.”

An ear-splitting rattle rolled through the entire metro. Amanda and Trick shot and shot and shot. Changelings were torn apart by the bullets, dropping dead as flies from the ceiling. Some tried to retreat; others tried to take cover. But the retreating changelings were mercilessly mowed down, and the ones that sought out cover couldn’t find any—there was just metro tunnel. Bullet cases gathered at his boots, and a grin split Trick’s muzzle. He finally had some of the revenge he was looking for. Now it was the changelings’ turn to be slaughtered. Sometimes, there’s nothing like a good slaughter.

Twilight and her friends stopped running away, as they heard the barks of the warriors’ guns. When they turned around, they saw the flashes and shadows coming from the tunnel.

“Oh! Pretty lights,” Pinkie said, and hopped over to the tunnel.

Twilight pumped her wings, and was just quick enough to stop her. “I’m sorry Pinkie, but that there is not a pretty party.”

“Aw! But they’re having fun without me!”

That was definitely true, at least for Raspberry Trick. He let out an unearthly laugh that rolled along with the roar of his guns, transforming the scene into something out of a 21+ movie. When at last the final unfortunate changeling fell down, Raspberry stopped shooting. His barrels smoked, and he laughed.

Amanda let her gun hang, and turned back towards the ponies. “We’ve neutralized the threat. We can go through now, but… well… you might want to blindfold Pinkie.”

“Aw, why?” Pinkie called, “I want to see how you chased the changelings away.”

Letting out an awkward chuckle, Amanda said, “Chased away… yes…”

Rarity took it upon her to keep her hooves in front of Pinkie’s eyes. When Pinkie stepped over the heap of changeling corpses and landed with her hoof in a puddle of green blood, she frowned. “Well, you surely made a mess of things.”

Raspberry Trick, still wearing that wicked grin, said, “Affirmative.”

After the village, shit really hit the fan.

General Johansson and his army regrouped right outside the village. From the squad of three hundred, there was ninety percent still alive. Johansson took off his helmet for those that had died. They all took a moment to remember the fallen, and then moved into formation again. The land began to dip down. It did so very gradually, almost unnoticeable to the soldiers. But then the slope became steeper. Their Geiger counters yelled at them. The air became thick, like a green mist that came from below, decreasing visibility. It was at that moment that everyone realized they were going inside the crater.

Marching at the front of the group, General Johansson could spot the shape of Chrysalis’s palace in the distance. They were close; perhaps it was only a mile more. Johansson wondered how far Raspberry Trick, Amanda, and the rest of the ponies were on their journey underground.

Behind him, the general heard whispers and hushed voices. The men were getting restless. That’s why Johansson stopped for a moment, and turned around.

The men stopped too. All eyes were aimed at their general. Was he going to sound the retreat?

“I know you are frightened,” Johansson called, making sure his voice was firm and powerful. “You would be an insanely stupid soldier if you weren’t. Yes, as you all can see, we are moving further and further into the crater. We will march towards that there.” He pointed behind him. “I know that there will be more changelings, elite changelings, waiting for us. But we are ready. We have prepared ourselves for the upcoming battle. We have armed ourselves with the knowledge we need to defeat this enemy. I know we can do this. For ages, we humans have managed to conquer this planet. And after the nuclear war, we were still able to survive, and build wonderful communities like Plaza City, where you all came from. I say, we will not let those monsters beat us humans. This is not just a search and destroy mission—this is a battle for humanity! Now, tell me, are we humans or not?”

“Yes!” the men shouted, raising their weapons.

“And can we survive all of this?” Johansson said, spreading his arms and turning around.

“Yes!” everyone shouted.

“Then let us make sure that the monsters won’t survive this.”

“YES!” They accompanied their cry with stomping feet.

“Let’s make sure they won’t survive US!”

“YES!” everyone shouted, clenching their teeth.

Johansson smiled. His little speech had fired up the men, as he expected. He was a leader, after all. “Then let us fight today, and kill some bugs!”

“YES!”

Johansson raised his bayoneted assault rifle in the air. “Today, we fight for HUMANITY!”

“FOR HUMANITY!” the army parroted.

“Follow me!” Johansson shouted. “Follow me, and I will lead you into the fight of your lives!”

Like ancient Viking berserkers, the soldiers clattered their knives against their guns, or pulled out their side-arms to bang them against their rifles.

That’s how they marched on, straight into the trap.

An unseen breeze managed to whisk away some of the greenish, radioactive vapors, and revealed the elite changelings. They were with twice as many as Johansson, all clad in red armor with nasty spikes. They stood in front of the army, with the ghostly appearance of the hive in the background.

But the army was still worked up into the frenzy Johansson had brought them in. The ones that hadn’t yet attached bayonets to their rifles did so now. Some soldiers drew swords, katanas, axes, machetes, or their trusty knives. There were a few guys who actually had crossbows, and six that had a high-powered compound bow. They knew they had a chance. Their general had told them so. They slung their rifles upon their backs, and set their heels in the ground, ready to charge like an army of Vikings. They roared and yelled at their enemies.

In response, the changelings showed off too. One rank at the time, they unfurled their wings in complete synchronization. Some bent down and scratched the dust with their hooves like bulls. With their wings outstretched, they looked almost twice as large. Some men stopped yelling and fell silent. Johansson took that as his que. He had to attack now, while his soldiers were still confident.

“CHARGE!”

Everyone followed. No one was left behind. Everyone followed their general into battle.

But they all forgot that they were only effective close by, and that the changelings could deploy ranged attacks. They could, and they did. The foremost rank now completely bent down, while the rank behind it locked their eyes on the enemy, picking out targets. Their horns glowed. They focused on the fiery blast, and then unleashed their energy lances.

The changelings didn’t fire upon random soldiers. No, they targeted the left flank. There weren’t even that many screams, as the entire left flank got incinerated instantly by the massive energy wave.

Everyone turned their heads, but there was no going back. The only thing they could do was fight.

One man threw a tomahawk. It landed right between the eyes of one of the changelings. With a metallic clatter, it went down. Cheers and jeers came from the charging army, as they realized their enemy was not indestructible—just hard to kill.

And the time to kill was now. The two armies clashed. Johansson immediately ducked down, away from a changeling’s sharp, barbed horn. Then he thrust upwards with his bayoneted rifle, piercing the creature’s throat.

At first it looked as if they actually stood a chance. The men chopped, sliced, stabbed, and hacked at the changelings, who hadn’t expected their enemy to be wielding weapons they weren’t immune to. But that’s why they were wearing armor. Most of the hits struck only the armor of the elite changelings, and created momentum for the changelings to retort. Already, screams could be heard as people got grabbed and sucked empty of their lives.

And not only that. The changelings prepared a second attack! The back ranks had silently moved, while the front ranks were busy fighting. They were heading straight to the unprotected left flank. Johansson only realized that when more and more screams came from his left. “Regroup! Regroup!” he shouted, although he knew it was already too late for that. Like the jaws of a giant monster, they got boxed in between the changelings.

A changeling took the chance to bite at the general. Johansson moved his neck away just in time, so the changeling bit his arm instead. Instantly, Johansson felt the acidic poison spread. In a flash, he considered hacking off his own arm, but knew that the blood loss would kill him anyway. He staggered back.

Where at first there had been the sound of clanging metal, now there were mostly cries for help. The changelings had them where they wanted them to have, and weren’t afraid to go and feed on the love and life in the soldiers. When Johansson, his face contorted in pain, looked behind him, he saw there were changelings too, which had flown right over his troops. That was also something he briefly forgot. For a moment, he wondered if he had been naïve. His conclusion was; maybe.

But, thanks to the thinning of the changelings’ ranks, the front most fighters were able to push on. The changelings stepped back, as they saw the waving blades in the air. Johansson’s army—or what was left of it—made some progress, conquering yard by yard. Maybe they managed to take two hundred yards, before they realized that they were slowly eaten alive from behind and from the left.

They had no idea what to do, and neither had Johansson.

Amanda, Raspberry Trick, and Twilight and her friends approached Stand Station. Amanda had helped to reload Trick’s guns, and she had a fresh magazine as well. They didn’t speak about what had happened earlier, as they still wanted Pinkie not to hear about the gruesome things that happened in this gruesome world by these gruesome people—or ponies. And besides, after everything they had already seen of Ground Zero, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, and Mayor Mare had no trouble visualizing what Trick and Amanda had done.

They were close to Stand Station now. Thanks to the signs on the wall, they saw it was just a matter of a few hundred yards. Still they looked around and were aware, but after the slaughter, Amanda and Raspberry were certain that they could overcome another changeling threat easily.

As they had moved further and further towards the center of the Aurora crater, the Geiger counters of Amanda and Raspberry Trick started whispering. Then they spoke, then they yelled, and now they screamed to them. If they could talk, they would say, ‘Get out, you insane idiots!’

Raspberry Trick bit his lip. He checked the little yellow box again; it was the fifth time in a minute. The needle was all the way in the red, and stayed there. He felt a shiver go over his body, and imagined it was the gamma rays, surging through his body, settling in his bones, searing and blotching his skin, and fry him from the inside. Raspberry Trick tried to ignore his brain and his thoughts. He kept telling himself that he was wearing a suit and a mask. He was safe.

I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe, he kept telling himself over and over again. But no matter how many times he thought those words, Raspberry Trick couldn’t stop his rapid breaths and the tensing of his muscles. He wondered if they had reached the center of the crater yet, where the nuclear bomb had been detonated so long ago.

Distraction came in the form of a pink, happy pony. Whether Trick wanted it or not, Pinkie had something to ask him.

“Buuuuuuuuuuut,” Pinkie Pie said, talking over the clicking of the dosimeters, “I’m still wondering, why did you change your name to ‘Raspberry Trick’ and not ‘Triggerhoof?’ I mean, I liked that name, and I finally got used to it. Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof, Triggerhoof! Aaaaaaaaand, thanks to the tank, I finally found out what a ‘trigger’ is.”

Unfortunately, Pinkie’s enthusiasm didn’t infect Raspberry Trick. “I didn’t change my name. It was Raspberry Trick to begin with,” he said gruffly.

But Pinkie wasn’t taken aback by the stallion’s irritated voice. “Really? Ok, but why did you not change your name but, eh… restored it?”

“I found someone I had lost,” Trick grumbled. “And I lost someone I found.”

Pinkie tilted her head. “So it’s a riddle? I love riddles. Well, the founding part is easy. You found us, of course. But who did you lose after you found him or her? Hmm… let me think.”

“I didn’t mean you mares,” Trick said. He had more than enough of the talkative pink pony.

“Then who did you find?” Pinkie asked.

After a long sigh, which ended in a muffled curse, Trick said, “I found my parents. They’re somewhere in this fucking metro.”

Pinkie let out an enormous gasp. Everypony turned around and looked at her. “Did you all hear that, guys? Triggerhoof found his parents here on Earth!”

Despite the dark, gloomy place they were in, everyone smiled at Raspberry Trick.

“Well, that’s quite something,” Applejack said. “I reckon you must have been very happy to see them again.”

Trick looked back, as if there was something going on behind him. “Yes. It was a happy moment,” he said.

“Well, that calls for a PARTY!” Pinkie squeaked. “When we’re done fighting that greeny meany Chrysalis, we’ll throw the happiest, most extravagant party you have ever seen!”

Everyone let out a laugh—everyone but Raspberry. He shook his head wildly, then sighed. “Just let’s go. We’ll worry about other problems later.”

But Pinkie didn’t realize that Trick called her party a ‘problem,’ and kept jumping and skipping through the tunnel, all the while summing up what she would need. “We’ll need streamers, confetti, a banner with Trigg’s face on it…” When she paused to look at Raspberry Trick, she saw the irritated stare he shot to her. “Hey, don’t worry, Triggerhoof. I’ll paint you without the scars and with a smile on your face. Believe me, it will be a huge improvement.”

Raspberry rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Anyway, we’ll need presents, loads of presents, and lampions colored every color of the rainbow. We’ll also need party favors, flutes, guitars, and some bongos if we can manage to get a hoof on them.”

Looking at everyone in turn, Trick sought desperately for some way to change topic. He didn’t think he could stand one more word in that squeaky voice. “Princess, how’s your ear doing?”

Twilight looked at her hurt ear, which was still tightly wrapped in bandages. “Pretty good, actually. It doesn’t hurt as much, and Filthy’s manservant said that I will probably be able to use it again after the wound has healed. It’s not gone or anything.”

Trick nodded. “That’s great. Every soldier looks prettier with a few battle scars.”

Smiling Twilight said, “Thank you for your concern, but please, you can just call me—"

“Triggerhoof! Are you listening? This is important,” Pinkie squeaked, a bit too close to Trick’s ear.

“No, I’m not listening,” Trick snarled.

Despite that, Pinkie blabbered on. “But, the most important thing we need, is of course cake! A big, fancy, beautiful cake—preferably red.” Pinkie let out a squeak. “Oh, it’s gonna be awesome! We’ll have an enormous, super-duper party which will last until the morning of the next day. Trust me, Triggerhoof. When you let me handle things, I’ll make sure your party will never—”

“Stop!” Trick called out. Everyone froze.

“What is it, Raspberry?” Amanda said, already keeping a tight grip on her rifle.

They were just a hundred yards away from Stand Station. The only thing that was in the way was a stretch of tunnel with some side passages.

“I understand. There’s… something in the side tunnels,” Amanda said, as she listened closely. “It sounds like insects.”

“Exactly,” Trick said. ”But we know how to handle those.” He pulled the bolts of his assault rifles and grinned. He was really in the mood of another slaughter. “Let’s do this.” He stepped forwards, and fired a single bullet from one of his guns. It reverberated through the not-so-empty metro tunnel. “Come out, come out, wherever you bastards are!”

“What’s a ‘bastard?’” Pinkie said. But she didn’t get an answer to that question, as the changelings came in first. There were eight of them in total. They stepped forward calmly, moving their hooves in complete synchronization. Letting out a hiss, they stepped into battle position.

And they were wearing red armor.

Raspberry Trick slowly reached for his bow, and held it tightly in his wing. “Well, fuck.”

Before anypony could get ready, make a move, or run, the changelings delivered their first strike. While the front four bent down, the four in the back charged their magic. The tips of their horns glowed a menacing green. They all chose a target, and fired.

With a flap of her wings, Twilight jumped in front of the group. She concentrated, and then a purple shield flashed to life.

The four magical death rays slammed into the shield. Twilight gritted her teeth. The effort it took to keep the shield standing against such force was like a boot camp from Rainbow Dash. Sweat pearled down the sides of her face, both because of the effort, and because of the searing temperature of the beams. At last, even the changelings couldn’t continue their assault any longer; they needed to save their strength. The beams disappeared in a sizzle.

Twilight panted. Her knees felt as if she’d climbed a million stairs. But she kept standing. The changelings might decide to fire again if they saw her falling.

But they weren’t planning to. They saw that one of their most powerful weapons didn’t work. In a split-second, they decided to try something else. All of them opened their mouths, and let out a terrible sound, like a cough and a hiss at the same time. Then, green vapors drifted out of their mouths, quickly creeping towards Twilight and her friends.

Rarity, who stood almost at the front, sniffed the strange smoke as if it were an expensive perfume. That was a terrible mistake. Rarity felt her lungs cramp, as the vapors flowed in. She quickly stepped back, and coughed the stuff out of her lungs. “Twilight, these vapors are poisonous—and they stink horribly.”

Twilight, despite her tiredness, took action. “Everypony, gather round.” As soon as they did, the poisonous cloud had almost reached them. Everypony nearly hugged Twilight, getting as close to her as they could. Twilight closed her eyes. The vapors touched her hooves.

In a sparkle of magic, the ponies found themselves enclosed in a bubble. They watched the vapors carefully. The nasty green mists couldn’t get through the bubble. Everypony looked in amazement at Twilight Sparkle.

Now it was Raspberry’s turn to spring into action. He leveled his bow, nocked an arrow, and fired at the nearest changeling.

The arrow bored straight through his throat. Their necks were horribly exposed, as they spit out their vapors. The changeling closed his mouth, tried frantically to grab the arrow with his hooves, and then fell down. His last words were unintelligible, lost in a wet gurgle.

Now the seven remaining changelings, realizing their tactical error, closed their mouths. But the mist didn’t drift away. There was no airstream, so it kept floating in the air. It spread out, until it completely clad the metro tunnels into a sickly green color.

Twilight could barely hold the bubble. The strain from the magical shield she had cast weighed heavily on her. She moaned with the effort. Opening her eyes, she searched for Rarity’s. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Rarity, help me!”

Rarity, on the edge of panic, began to stutter. “B-b-but how, I can’t—”

“Please try!” Twilight almost collapsed.

Rarity observed the shield, and put her brains into high gear. Well, I did once decorate a room with magical lampions… She closed her eyes. Her horn glowed a faint blue, the color merging with Twilight’s magic. Suddenly, a second layer popped up, and strengthened the bubble’s walls. Rarity looked up in amazement. “I did it! Twilight, can you believe it?”

She could believe it, and she could feel it. It was as if someone helped her lift a heavy chest, by grabbing the other hoofhold. Opening her eyes, she tried to flash a smile to Rarity. “Thank you.”

But the changelings weren’t at all happy with Rarity’s accomplishment, and saw the red pony nocking another arrow. Time to bring out the heavy weapons. They threw their heads back, and spit bright green goo at the bubble.

“Ew, gross!” Rarity said. The goo hit the shield, and dripped down on the ground, where it buried itself in the concrete. “And deadly.”

Once again the changelings spat a whole stream of acid upon the ponies. The whole top of the shield got encased by the sludge, and it dripped over the walls.

The impact of the acid felt like a punch from a boxer to Twilight and Rarity. They both grunted, and let their magic slip for a moment. The bubble flickered. It barely held.

“Trick! We gotta kill them now!” Amanda shouted. She held a knife in her hand.

“Yes, but if the shield fails—”

The changelings spit a last wave of acidic spittle, covering the shield completely. With a pulse of magic, the shield fell.

Immediately, the green vapors moved in, covering the ponies. They tried to hold their breaths, but Rarity and Twilight needed to pant. Their eyes became teary. Twilight wanted to say sorry to all of them. She knew they didn’t stand a chance now. She was exhausted, and couldn’t even muster the strength to flap her wings. But even if she could, she doubted that the mist would retreat. It looked like a green, solid wall.

Raspberry Trick and Amanda also held their breaths, but then discovered it wasn’t necessary. Their gasmasks protected their lungs from the vile air.

But what about the rest?

“Buddy breathing!” Trick shouted. “You take two breaths; I take two breaths!” He hoped they had all understood what he said. There was no time to verify. Raspberry took a deep breath, and then he did something he would never do. Deep in the Aurora crater, with radiation trying to kill him from within…

Raspberry Trick took off his mask.

He pressed it against Twilight’s face, who finally got a chance to pant. When Trick reckoned she’d calmed down, he took two breaths, and then jammed the mask into Rarity’s face.

Amanda quickly understood what Trick meant. She inhaled, slipped off her gasmask, and started giving it to all the ponies in turn.

But that left them vulnerable. With Trick and Amanda buddy breathing, and with the ponies trying to survive in the cloud, there was no one engaging the changelings. One changeling, who stood closest to them all, charged towards them, aiming his horn towards Trick’s side.

After a quick breath, a flash of inspiration hit Twilight. She focused on Amanda’s big knife, waited, and then made it hover in mid-air, about as high as the changeling’s face.

Carried by his own momentum, the changeling charged straight into the knife. The knife completely disappeared into his eye, mashing up his brains. He went down.

Now his friends saw what happened, so they kept their distance. One of them aimed at Trick, and spit a gobbet of goo towards him.

Raspberry Trick gasped, as his back caught the goo. It burned through his suit and reached his skin, eating away the pony hide. He screamed and dropped the gasmask and fell down. He screamed both in surprise and horror. His suit was open; radiation could get to him. The poisonous air gathered in his lungs, stabbing it with a million needles.

Twilight quickly hovered the mask over to Trick’s face. He took a thankful breath, then coughed a few times, getting rid of the poison in his lungs.

Amanda looked in shock at her friend. “This is not gonna work!” she shouted, pressing the gasmask against her face. “We gotta fight!”

Twilight was next. “I’m sorry, Amanda, but I lost your knife.”

“Fuck!” Trick shouted, both in frustration as in pain. His back felt as if he lay onto a mattress of spikes. When it was his turn to breathe again, he said, “Then I’ll kill the bastards!”

“No, Trick!” Amanda yelled, “one mask is not enough for all the ponies.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Trick took a deep breath, gave the mask to Pinkie, grabbed his bow and arrow, and turned around.

It’s playtime now!

One of the changelings drew back his head, ready to spit. As quick as he could, Trick nocked an arrow and fired.

The changeling staggered backwards with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Trick saw what that lousy shot got him, shook his head, and charged. Before the changeling knew what hit him, Trick had already begun his maneuver. He grabbed the arrow in his mouth, ripped it out of the changeling’s shoulder, and stabbed it through his heart.

That’s better.

“Trick! No! You’ll suffocate!” Amanda shouted from behind.

He wanted to shout, ‘I don’t care’ back, but wisely decided not to waste the breath he had left. He looked at the next changeling, which was charging up a beam of lightning. But before it could fire, it got an arrow to the face. It staggered backwards, and the beam launched itself out of the dying changeling’s horn.

Just in time, Trick jumped out of the way, as the beam of light rebounded from the concrete ceiling and headed for the pony. But when he landed flat on his belly, the impact knocked all the air out of his lungs.

He had to be fast. Two at a time now. In the blink of an eye, two arrows were on his bow. He fired.

One hit a changeling’s head, but the other clattered against a changeling’s helmet.

Fuck!

Raspberry Trick felt the need for air. His lungs slowly began to burn. He felt as if someone lit a fire in his chest. Without thinking, he reached for another arrow and fired.

With a final hiss, the changeling went down.

Three left, But Raspberry needed some air. He couldn’t take it any longer. Breathing was a natural reflex. He breathed in.

Immediately, the vapors tortured his windpipe to settle in his lungs, where they stung him as if he swallowed a whole beehive. Trick wanted to yell and scream of the pain, but he knew that if he did, he would have to take another breath. His hooves began to shake, as he nocked another arrow.

His aim was still true. Another changeling went down.

The two that were left saw what was happening. Tapping their horns together, they charged another magical blast.

Trick saw black spots cloud his vision. He had to breathe again. He had to. He drew in a terrible gasp. Little to no oxygen entered his lungs; the rest was filled up by poison. He tried to cough, but that only made things worse. His lungs exploded. His head swam. Trembling, he grabbed another arrow.

Magical energy surged, focused itself at the changelings’ horns, and then sped towards Raspberry Trick.

Even though his knees felt like giving in, Trick jumped, aimed, and let his arrow fly, all in one movement. It flew right through the changeling’s forehead. The arrowhead tickled its brains.

But as Trick fell down, he gasped again. He reached for his throat, but it did nothing to diminish the intoxication. Like a fish out of the water, Trick desperately tried to find more oxygen in the air. He didn’t find any. Gasping once again, Trick felt as if his lungs collapsed. But his job wasn’t done; there was one changeling left.

The changeling saw that Trick was weak. With one flap of its wings, it stood opposite him. The changeling picked him up, and began to feed.

Raspberry Trick could offer no resistance. He briefly wondered what would kill him first; the poison or the changeling. His last thoughts went to the mares he swore to help and protect. A-a-at least A-A-Amanda is still l-l-left…

Suddenly, he felt someone jerk at his quiver. He felt the last arrow being grabbed, and then heard the shriek as Amanda stabbed the thing in the changeling’s eye.

But she was too late. As the changeling let go of Raspberry, he slumped to the ground, where he lay motionless.

Amanda and the ponies kept buddy-breathing as they ran further into the tunnel. Stand Station was just a few meters away. Twilight and Rarity used their combined magic to lift Raspberry Trick in the air. They did give him the gasmask every time, but if he used it, he didn’t show it. His eyes remained closed. Although they couldn’t spare their breaths to talk, all of them worried about the red stallion. They had to find a way up onto the surface, out of the poisonous smoke.

They entered Stand Station, and found something interesting. The platforms were covered with green changeling goo, and the entrance to the exit tunnel was blocked by a dark membrane. It looked black and nasty, and seemed to pulse as if it had a heart. It went up and through the roof of the metro, where it disappeared from view.

Twilight Sparkle didn’t waste a second. She charged a bolt of magic, aimed at the dark wall, and fired.

In a flash of purple magic, the bolt exploded. It looked pretty, but that was about it. The magic did nothing.

Twilight looked up at Amanda, who shared a desperate expression. But then, her expression changed to a grim look of determination. She fumbled in her bag, and got out a grenade. Taking a deep breath and giving the gasmask away, she walked towards the wall, laid down the grenade, removed the pin, and ran.

With a terrible bang and a flash, the grenade did nothing but send more smoke and dust into the green air.

Everypony looked at each other. All their gazes were filled with worry. They couldn’t stay here and buddy-breathe forever. When Twilight waved a hoof, she saw that the poisonous gas was still thick and drifting in the air. That was not going to fade away.

The unthinkable happened. A hole appeared in the membrane, all by itself. It got bigger and bigger, and once it reached its maximum size, it grew smaller again.

Everypony and Amanda ran through the hole, realizing what it was they were running into.

They had entered the hive.

The dark pinnacle of the changeling hive stood before Johansson and what was left of his army. They had made it far, although their numbers were dwindling. There were maybe fifty soldiers left, desperately trying to keep the changelings away. Despite their dying numbers, they kept stabbing with their bayonets, slicing with their swords, and hoping with their hearts. But they realized they were fighting in the jaws of a beast. In front of them, there were changelings; behind them, there were changelings; to their left, there were changelings; to their right, there were changelings.

Slowly, they were driven back, until the men could see each other. They stepped further and further back. The changeling hive was right behind them.

Johansson was so close to it, that he could see the balcony. His eyes went hazy. He grimaced at the pain, as the poison ran through his veins like liquid sandpaper. When he looked up again, he finally saw the enemy they were fighting against.

The changelings stopped fighting. They stood erect, and saluted their queen. “HAIL QUEEN CHRYSALIS!”

Even Johansson’s soldiers stopped fighting and looked around.

There she stood, overseeing the carnage. A content smile played over Chrysalis’s lips, as she saw what her children had accomplished. “Playtime is over now!” she called, magically amplifying her cruel voice. “Kill them all, just as I taught you!”

Upon hearing Chrysalis’s voice, Johansson briefly felt cold mingle with the heat of the poison. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the queen. She looked even more fearsome and monstrous than he imagined.

The changelings didn’t move closer. They all opened their mouths, and breathed out their poisonous gas. In a matter of seconds, the battlefield was shrouded in a green fog.

But that didn’t matter; everyone was wearing a gasmask. They prevented tiny radioactive particles from entering the soldier’s lungs, and they protected against poisonous gasses too.

General Johansson stood up. His left leg and his left arm felt numb, as if they had been hacked off. Yet, he managed to stand. He wanted to look the queen in the eyes, and see the shock on her face, once she would realize that the gas couldn’t harm him and his soldiers.

“Interesting…” Chrysalis said. But she had expected the humans to protect themselves. She looked closely at their gasmasks, the filters, and the visors. Then, she let a laugh like an icy river flow over the green mists on the battlefield. Some soldiers immediately dropped their weapons upon hearing it; others stood and shook. Then, the laugh began to change. The terrifying note became higher and higher, as if Chrysalis was singing an opera of death. Her voice went higher and higher and higher, until the ears of the soldiers rang. Seconds later, other sounds filled the air. The sound of glass breaking.

One by one, the visors of the soldiers’ gasmasks broke apart in splinters. The poisonous gas streamed in, pricking their eyes and searching for their mouths. Their gasmasks were useless. Some men screamed; some fell down silently; some prayed to God as they met their demise; some craned their necks, hoping to find some fresh air; but all of them died.

General Johansson knew he was going to die. His gasmask had shattered too. He didn’t care. He kept looking at Queen Chrysalis. Slowly, his trembling hand reached for his pistol, and pulled it out of the holster.

Chrysalis watched him, but kept standing.

The gun barked. Johansson fired once, twice, thrice.

Still, Chrysalis didn’t move.

His bullets missed. Before long, Johansson realized he had just one left.

Chrysalis nudged her head.

A changeling flew over to General Johansson, the last man standing, and wrapped its wings around him. Opening its mouth, it began to feed. Johansson could barely see Chrysalis through the haze of green magic. He felt all the positivity leave him. He knew what was going to happen. Soon the beam would turn red, and he would be flayed alive.

Luckily, he had one bullet left.

He took one more shot at Chrysalis. He missed.

But a grim smile appeared on the general’s face. At least he died fighting.

Chapter twenty-one: a queen of hearts

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The hive seemed almost deserted. Amanda and the ponies reckoned that all the changelings were outside, fighting the war with Johansson and his army. The distraction had worked. There were a few changelings left, but those were normal ones, which Twilight shot as silently as she could. They needed the element of surprise.

They moved through the gloomy hallways of Chrysalis’s palace. A few lamps hung on the black, changing wall, casting their green light upon them. Rarity and Twilight were still carrying Raspberry Trick. Once they had been inside the hive and away from the gas, they had stopped for a few minutes and tried to bring Trick back. But they didn’t have much time, and after he showed no sign of coming round, they moved on.

The changeling hive kept changing, but that didn’t matter. They knew where they wanted to go; up. Every time a hole opened with a hall sloping upwards behind it, Twilight and her friends took it. Following this simple plan, they went up higher and higher. The halls they encountered grew progressively smaller and narrower. They knew they were close.

Everypony mentally prepared herself for the fight. They knew that the time had almost come. If they failed, they had no doubt that Chrysalis was able to conquer this dimension. There would be no resistance from Americans or Russians in this state, so Chrysalis could take the time to breed a new, even larger army—maybe with stronger elite changelings. They were better adapted to this world, immune as they were to radiation. No, Twilight and her friends had no doubt that the changelings would destroy mankind, and emerge as the new dominant species on Ground Zero.

They rounded another corner, and encountered a staircase. It was very narrow, and went up for quite a while. At the top, there was a large set of double doors, made from hardened changeling spittle and with obsidian handles. Suddenly, the doors glowed green. They opened themselves slowly, creaking in their hinges.

The doors led to an enormous hall. It was circular, and had gigantic pillars all around. When the ponies looked up and squinted their eyes, they couldn’t even see the ceiling, just a black emptiness. To the right, the throne hall ended in a wide balcony. There, with her back towards them, overlooking Ground Zero, stood the queen of the changelings.

Everypony jumped up, as they heard a terrible scream coming from outside. Even though the death scream distorted his voice, Amanda knew who it was. “General Johansson!”

Slowly, Chrysalis turned around. She straightened and looked her visitors over while she licked her lips. “Well hello there, elements of harmony,” she said. Her voice was cold, calm, and collected, as if the battle was already won. “Please don’t blame your human friend. I knew who was coming for me the moment I felt the deaths of my guards.”

As the queen spoke, Rarity and Mayor Mare sidled away, laying down Raspberry Trick behind one of the pillars, and hopefully out of the fight. Even though they tried to keep their movements hidden, Chrysalis had spotted them with her sharp, slit-pupil eyes. “Aw, did you have a casualty? Well, you know what they say; wars have no winners.”

Twilight stepped forwards, her wings outstretched. “It’s over, Chrysalis. You have ravaged this world long enough. Your hoofprint of destruction ends now!”

“Ends?” Chrysalis threw her head back and laughed an icy laugh. “No, Princess Twilight, it may look like the end to you, but this is actually the beginning of the story. My heart fluttered when I felt your presence in my palace. You did well to bring the elements of harmony here, saving me the trouble of combing out this entire wasteland to find them all. Now, I can eradicate you right here, right now.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, Chrysalis, we will stop you. We have the power of the elements with us, and we’re not afraid to use them. Call back your troops and surrender, or you’ll feel just what this group of friends here can do.” Twilight knew she was bluffing; they were still one element short. Yet, against all odds, she hoped Chrysalis would be intimidated.

Of course, she was not. “I am not afraid, Twilight Sparkle. I have already won a battle today, and I am ready to make that two. The other army already surrendered.”

“General Johansson would never surrender!” Amanda yelled.

Chrysalis eyed the woman. She bared her teeth. “No, you’re right, he didn’t. I was just misinterpreting his screams for mercy and death when my changelings fed on him. He screamed like the puny human he was, before he fell like an empty eggshell to the ground.”

“No,” Amanda said, shouldering her weapon. “Johansson was the strongest soldier I have ever known. Don’t talk lies of him. He was brave.”

“Brave, you say?” Chrysalis said. “I call it foolish. Is it brave to rally hundreds of men, and send them to fight against an enemy they barely know? Is it brave to send all of those men to die, gasping for breath in a radioactive crater? Is it brave to fight a hopeless battle, and lose and then be surprised? I think not.”

Amanda tightened the grip on her gun, and felt tears coming up. “Johansson knew what he was doing. In the end, his mission was a success. Thanks to him, we came this far.”

“So, because Johansson died, you could come here and… die?” Chrysalis’s voice was dripping with mockery.

“You’re even worse than in the show!” Amanda yelled.

Unfolding her wings, Chrysalis said, “I know nothing of a ‘show.’ The only show will be the horror show I will put up, when you will be slaughtered like Johansson and his army.”

That was too much for Amanda. She couldn’t stand that merciless voice any longer. She took aim, and fired a burst of lead towards the changeling queen.

But Chrysalis was prepared for that. Because she had her wings unfurled, she had no trouble zipping up into the sky, and lingering there. “Foolish woman!” She gritted her teeth. Her horn glowed. She fired a magical energy bolt towards Amanda.

But Amanda was quicker than Chrysalis thought. Like the trained soldier she was, she rolled aside, until she was behind one of the thick pillars.

The second battle for Ground Zero had started. “Everyone! The elements! Quickly!” Twilight said.

“H-h-how do I do that?” Mayor Mare said.

Twilight already began. “Focus on your inner strength! Focus on your virtues!”

Everypony closed her eyes, calling upon the elements inside themselves. Mayor Mare followed their example, and could feel something too. Something reverberated in her body, like the strum from a harp. Something that she knew was always there, but never recognized. Even though she was an earth pony, she felt the magic surge through her body. It felt like a fast mountain stream, and then like powerful rapids. The magic filled her up and became a part of her, synchronizing with her soul. Mayor Mare became connected to the other mares’ minds. She was part of a whole now. She was a part of the magic of harmony.

The rest of Twilight’s friends did the same, as they had done before. Each of them reached deep into their soul, to bring out the magic. They all started to glow, illuminating the massive throne hall all by themselves.

Chrysalis shielded her eyes from the light. Briefly, the thought of fleeing shot through her mind. She had been so sure when she had quickly counted the mares, and saw that one was missing. But now, with the powerful magic shining in front of her, she wasn’t so sure anymore. But she knew about the power of the elements, and knew there was nowhere to run. She just stared at the mares.

They glowed and rose up into the air. Their appearances changed. Bright rainbow colors streamed through their manes and tails, making them look even more impressive and awe-inspiring. The glows became brighter and brighter. Twilight Sparkle knew now was the time. She felt the presence of her friends, her fellow elements, around her. The tip of her horn glowed with a fierce light, as she focused the magic.

But something was wrong. Twilight felt a gap in her magical powers. One of the elements was still missing, and the realization crashed into her mind and interrupted the flow of magic like a rock thrown into a still pond. The rainbow colors faded. The glow faded. And then the magic of the elements imploded through Twilight’s horn. With a thud, everypony fell to the floor.

“What happened?” Applejack said.

Queen Chrysalis saw what was wrong, and laughed. “I saw that one element is still missing. You will never have the power to best me!” She reared on her hind legs. “Now…” Her horn glowed a sickly green. Lightning sparked off of it. “You shall be…” She focused on the middle of the pony group. “DESTROYED!”

The blast struck like a hurricane. Everypony flew everywhere. Applejack, Pinkie, Rarity, and Mayor Mare crashed into one of the pillars, while Twilight Sparkle lay flat on the ground. When she tried to get up, she stared straight into the eyes of Chrysalis.

She was charging up a new shot. “Your fate is sealed, Twilight Sparkle.”

Amanda, who had taken cover behind the pillar she dove for, made a move. She stepped out of her cover, leveled her gun, and fired.

The burst of machine gun fire hit Chrysalis’s leg. She let out a screech, and recoiled from Twilight. Flapping her wings, she took to the sky. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Twilight got up. “Oh no, you don’t!” She pumped her wings, and followed Chrysalis over the balcony and outside. She almost got an energy beam in the face, as Chrysalis had hidden herself against the wall. Yet she avoided it, and now the game was on.

Amanda ran towards the balcony. The fact the she couldn’t fly didn’t mean there was nothing she could do. While Chrysalis and Twilight skirmished in mid-air, she crouched down and tried to shoot Chrysalis with her weapon.

Meanwhile, the rest of the ponies got back to their senses. They shook the dust off their bruised and battered bodies. Immediately, they went to the balcony. But then they realized there was nothing they could do to help Twilight.

She flew through the air, dodging energy missiles from Chrysalis and firing back. They twirled around each other, trying their best to aim their magic. After a quick swoop, Chrysalis fired a beam, and so did Twilight. The beams met in mid-air, collided, and exploded in a fireball. Amanda kept aiming and shooting. When she noticed the ponies standing next to her, she said, “Go to Raspberry Trick! He needs your help!”

So they did. They ran back, and disappeared behind the pillar. There, Raspberry still lay, motionless. Applejack put a hoof on his chest. “He’s still breathing,” she said, as she felt his chest going up and down shallowly. “But not too well.” Then she turned him around, and felt his heart. “It’s so weak! I don’t know how long it will keep pumping.”

“And look at those marks!” Rarity exclaimed. Indeed, there were strange burn marks beside the wounds the acid had caused on his back. The same wounds could be seen in his neck. “Maybe that is from the ‘radiation,’ he warned us about. Do you remember?”

“Do you think laughter will help?” Pinkie suggested. “After all, laughter really is the best medicine.”

“I don’t think that will work, darling,” Rarity said sadly.

Mayor Mare bit her lip. She had felt so powerful with the magic of the elements inside of her. If only she could have used that magic to help Raspberry Trick… She perked up. An idea flashed into her mind. “Can’t we use a magical spell of so? Rarity, you know magic, right?”

But Rarity’s eyes were doubtful. “Well, yes, but I can’t do everything…”

“Yes,” Applejack said. “Didn’t you try and practice a poison removal spell after… well… after Fluttershy? I saw how you asked for every book on poison when you came to Twilight’s library one day.”

“Yes, yes I did.” Still, there was doubt in her voice. “But those books were all books on liquid poison, that gets into a pony’s body, and not gasses.”

Mayor Mare put a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “I think now is a good time to try, Rarity. I know you can do it.”

Shaking, Rarity nodded. She gathered up the words and phrases she had learned in her mind, turning them into magical incantations as a musician would turn sheet music into sounds. A blue light sparkled from her horn. Slowly, she brought it down towards Raspberry’s chest. That was where the poison was. Everypony held their breaths.

And all the while, Twilight and Chrysalis and Amanda fought. Chrysalis shot more green energy, but Twilight made a looping and avoided it. Then Twilight fired a bolt, but Chrysalis made a corkscrew around the blast. They seemed to be tied, equals in power. Yet, Twilight had Amanda.

Amanda knew she didn’t have many bullets left. She had to make them count. Trying to follow the queen’s swift aerial maneuvers was like hitting a fly in the dark. Her crosshairs turned from the left to the right and up and down.

Chrysalis was getting a bit tired, so she slowed down. “You cannot best me, Twilight Sparkle. Your attempt is—AH!”

Green blood dripped down a hole in Chrysalis’s side. Behind her gun, Amanda grinned.

Instantly, Chrysalis’s eyes were aimed at the woman. When Twilight fired another bolt and she flapped her wings to avoid it, she headed straight for Amanda, charging at her like a heat-seeking missile.

Amanda pressed the trigger to fire a burst of lead at the incoming queen, but her gun only clicked. She was out of ammo.

Chrysalis slammed into Amanda, trying to skewer her with her horn. But Amanda wasn’t wearing a normal ballistic vest. She was wearing a model of body armor that had a metal plate in it. Even though the horn encountered resistance, the impact still sent Amanda flying. She crashed into one of the black pillars in the throne hall, and disappeared from view with Queen Chrysalis.

Gasping, Twilight Sparkle swooped down and into the throne hall. She couldn’t see behind which pillar her enemy and her friends were, so she hesitated, wary as she was for an ambush. In the corner of her eye, she saw a blue flash, as the rest of her friends still tried to revive Raspberry Trick.

Rarity gritted her teeth as she let the magic flow. She channeled the healing spell and directed it towards Raspberry’s body. The glow sprang from her horn to the pony. He started glowing and sizzling. Everypony looked from Rarity to Trick, waiting for something to happen. At last, the glow disappeared.

“What happens now?” Applejack asked.

Rarity swallowed. “Well, now is the moment where he should wake up.”

“But… nothing is happening.”

With a cracked voice, Rarity said, “Then I fear we have lost ourselves a pony.” Even though she hadn’t initially liked Raspberry, Rarity still felt sorrow. In the end, he was still a pony, and in the end, she knew that she failed to save him too, just as she failed to save Fluttershy. She knew she had failed.

Applejack took off her hat. “Then let him rest in peace y’all.” She turned around and saw Twilight. Applejack couldn’t find Chrysalis with her hateful stare. “Let’s try to do what we can do; get some revenge.”

Twilight Sparkle didn’t hear a sound. She stopped in the middle of the throne hall. It was strange that she couldn’t hear neither Amanda nor Chrysalis. Surely they must be fighting, yet why weren’t there any sounds of battle? Twilight gasped, as a possible explanation shot to mind. Maybe she is…

Alive! Raspberry Trick coughed, and tried to get to his hooves. But then he fell down, and coughed some more.

“Yay! He’s alive!” Pinkie yelled. She jumped up and hugged Raspberry tightly.

Pinkie didn’t know it, but that embrace saved the stallion’s life. Raspberry let out a drawn-out wheeze, as his lungs became dented by Pinkie. A small cloud of green vapors escaped through his mouth and his nose, drifting to the ceiling. When Pinkie let go, Raspberry didn’t even need to cough.

“Oh, there you are,” Twilight said, when the figure of Amanda appeared from behind a column. She smiled, and walked towards Twilight.

“Where’s Chrysalis?” Twilight asked.

Amanda smiled. “Taken care of.”

As soon as Raspberry stopped wheezing and coughing, Pinkie Pie grabbed his gasmask and jammed it on his muzzle. “Wakey wakey, sleepy trigger.”

Raspberry was still dazed. His head felt as if he had a bad hangover. He felt like vomiting, and his stomach felt queasy. The first signs of radiation poisoning. When he thought the feeling of his legs returned, he stood up. He saw that he was in a strange environment. His eyes flashed around, taking in the scene. Immediately, he spotted Twilight Sparkle, as Amanda walked towards her. But something was off. He took a deep breath, and shouted, “Twilight! She doesn’t have a gun!”

Time slowed down. Twilight Sparkle looked at Amanda, who had almost reached her. Trick pumped his wings, charging towards the disguised Chrysalis. The queen of the changelings dispelled her disguise. Trick jumped. Chrysalis lowered her head, and stabbed with her glowing horn.

Right into Raspberry’s barrel.

Twilight recoiled from the scene. Before she knew what happened, Raspberry Trick was on the ground, clutching his stomach with his hooves, bleeding. Chrysalis too, looked at the stallion.

“No!” Twilight shouted.

Immediately, she reacted. Twilight looked at Chrysalis, charged her horn, and blasted.

The queen of the changelings flew backwards, and crash-landed into the pillar that bore her throne. Purple smoke came from her chest. She tried to stand up, fell down, and tried again. The electricity still flowed through her body. Her shoulders twitched. The pain was intense. Chrysalis had trouble standing up, let alone fight. Luckily, she had another trick up her sleeve. She staggered to the back of her throne, and searched for the hidden panel. She pressed it; the rift came into view.

Rarity, Mayor Mare, Applejack, and Pinkie galloped towards Twilight, who was bent over Raspberry, trying desperately to stop the blood with some of her spells. They paid no attention to Chrysalis.

That’s why they didn’t see what she did. Chrysalis charged her horn with magical energy, and sliced upwards, tearing the rift open.

The magical energy was released. The colors of Chrysalis’s palace and the colors of the ponies all blurred together. They swirled around each other. The hive disappeared, and Canterlot reappeared, as if someone changed the decor in a theater play. Nopony even noticed the change until they felt the rays of the sun upon their hides

They were in a tower of Canterlot Castle. A part of the roof was missing, destroyed in the battle between Chrysalis and the royal sisters. But the location didn’t matter. What mattered was Raspberry. Blood kept flowing out of his wound. It had gotten a green edge, and Twilight realized he had been injected with foul changeling magic. She tried desperately to channel some magic and dispel the changeling curse, while Rarity cast her poison removal spell. Yet, they knew that if the wound kept bleeding, it didn’t even matter if they could take away the poison and magic. Trick would die of hemorrhage.

Raspberry Trick tried to raise his head. He tried to say something, but his voice was lost in bloody gurgles.

“What’s the matter, Trick?” Applejack asked. “What do you wanna say?” She knew the words could very well be Trick’s last.

“Be… be… behind… you…”

Chrysalis stood upright, although her wound still smoked. “Foolish ponies! You briefly forgot that you are but few, and I am with many!” She raised her wings. “Come to me, my children. Come to me and help me destroy the elements of harmony!”

Instantly, a chorus of chittering wings resounded. The changeling-infested city of Canterlot seemed to hum. Changelings stopped what they were doing and answered their queen’s call. From every deserted street, out of every ravaged house, changelings came and flew over to the tower. In a matter of minutes, Twilight and her friends were surrounded by a mass of changelings. Yet, they didn’t care. They cared about Raspberry Trick.

The blood kept flowing. Trick’s breath came out in ragged huffs, spitting blood over the white marble of Canterlot Castle. He could hardly stay conscious. His eyes were as wide as could be, gazing at something only he could see. Black blotches appeared in his vision, as his eyesight began to fail. He felt as if his organs had rolled out of his belly, and he had to get up and gather them.

He saw his mother, the sweet, caring mare who was always ready to help him with whatever problem he had. His dad was there too, smiling and cheering as he watched his son shoot arrows with his bow. Raspberry Trick bit back an urge to cry. They would never know that he did remember them. They would never know that they could be a family again. They would never know that they could be a real family again, in which Raspberry Trick gave as much affection and love as he received. Instead, they would grieve over the loss of their son.

Although he couldn’t know that, Raspberry’s last thought was the same as Johansson’s.

At least I die fighting…

His muscles relaxed, as life left the dying stallion alone. Twilight and Rarity dispelled their magic. Raspberry Trick was no more.

Twilight unfolded her wing, brushed it against Trick’s face, and closed his eyes.

“Is… is Raspberry also going to play with Fluttershy now?” Pinkie asked, a bit hesitantly. Somehow, speaking didn’t feel like the right thing to do.

“Yes, Pinkie,” Twilight said, “he is.”

Pinkie sniffed. “I just hope they have a good time together…”

“Pathetic ponies,” Chrysalis called, as she towered above them. “You see now how far your love and compassion goes. This is why you are better off without it. We will feed, and you will miss nothing.”

Slowly, Twilight and her friends stood up, and looked in the faces of many hundreds of changelings. They stood around them in a circle, forming rank after rank. Chrysalis was at the front, biting back pain. “What do you have to say now, Twilight Sparkle? You are defeated. Your elements are incomplete.” Then she noticed the small tears that fell over Twilight’s face. “It is of no use to cry over the death of some random stallion. Come on! Show some dignity when I deliver the final strike.”

“Raspberry Trick was not just a random stallion,” Twilight said. Her voice gained a rough edge. It grew almost threatening, as if the death of Raspberry Trick awakened something in her. “Even though we got off at a bad start, he has helped us countless times. He met up with Zecora and gave us her location; he helped coordinating the assault on your hive; he fought for us, destroying your changelings; he made sure we wouldn’t suffocate, nearly sacrificing himself. And then…” Twilight swallowed hard. Now she did cry, but she didn’t care. “And then he did actually sacrifice himself. And that, Queen Chrysalis, is what love and compassion does. It makes you care about each other, cover each other and have each other’s backs. Raspberry Trick was not just a random stallion; he was somepony special.”

And that speech was all Mayor Mare needed. Something clicked inside her head. Some pieces of the puzzle fell into place. When she exchanged glances with Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie, she saw they realized it too.

Queen Chrysalis let out a terrifying laugh, as she was joined by the countless changelings. She clutched her burned stomach at such a ridiculous speech. When at last her laughter subsided, she decided she had waited long enough. It was time for the kill. “No matter how sweet your words are, princess of friendship, you are still incomplete, and you are still mine.” She did a step closer. “Now promise me not to scream as I suck the love out of you.”

“You shall not, Queen Chrysalis,” Rarity said, and stepped between her and Twilight.

“No way,” Pinkie said, and joined her.

Applejack and Mayor Mare joined as well. “You are wrong, Chrysalis, and Twilight is right,” Mayor Mare said. “Raspberry Trick was not some random stallion. He truly was somepony special.”

“Then why am I wrong?” Chrysalis said. She bent through her knees. Her fanged mouth was inches from Mayor Mare’s face.

Mayor Mare stood undaunted, erect, and proud. “You are wrong about the fact that we are one element short. In fact, we are all complete.”

The penny now dropped with Twilight Sparkle too. Her friends stepped aside as she stood in their middle. “Raspberry Trick is the element of loyalty…”

That was something Chrysalis didn’t expect. Her mind denied it. “What?! Impossible!”

“No, Chrysalis,” Twilight said. “I believe my friends are right. After everything he did for us, he has proven to always be loyal. He offered his guns to us when we met him for the second time, in Plaza City. He offered his guns like the soldier he was, and fought for a cause—our cause. He fought for our cause and he fought for us. Maybe he only thought that the mission mattered, but by sacrificing himself, he has proven that he knew we mattered. Not just as the elements of harmony, but as friends.”

Pinkie jumped up. “Yeah, even though I don’t think he will ever admit it, Triggerhoof is our friend. By the way, I liked him from the beginning.”

Chrysalis recoiled. Something in her mind told her Twilight Sparkle wasn’t bluffing. Maybe there was more to the stallion soldier than met the eye. “But he is dead now. He cannot help you to complete the elements. He can do nothing against me.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Rarity said, and already tuned in on the magic.

Twilight saw that, and realized what they wanted to do. But it didn’t work the first time; why would it work now? Nevertheless, against all common sense, Twilight helped. She reached for the magic of friendship, powering the elements of harmony, and centered herself as the focal point of the magic.

Shielding her eyes against the glow, Chrysalis did a step back, yet she kept denying. “No! There is nothing you mares can do! The element isn’t here! The element is still gone! The element is dead!”

Pinkie and Applejack took their positions and started to glow too. And so did Mayor Mare. She found the essence of kindness in her heart, and let it guide the magic in her body. When she first took her rightful place as one of the elements of harmony, she found the power of the magic astounding—and she still did. In fact, she reckoned the power was so astounding that she could use it in the way she was about to use it. She reached out a hoof to the body of Raspberry Trick.

“What do you think you are doing?!” Chrysalis shrieked. “You cannot help him anymore.”

Kindness reached out for loyalty. The magical flow, now visible as rainbow ribbons between the mares, flowed around Mayor Mare. She felt the magic wrap around her. She directed it towards her hoof, and centered it there like a powerful unicorn wizard. She bent down, and grabbed Raspberry’s limp hoof.

Chrysalis now became genuinely scared. “You are fools! Idiots! You are all insane! Nopony can resurrect the dead. There is no magic powerful enough in Equestria to do that!”

But if that were true, then why did Raspberry open his eyes? Mayor Mare let the magic flow through his body. Fluttershy, who was the element of kindness before her, left a legacy. Her ability to help injured animals and nurse them back to health was in her nature, and therefore, in her element. Mayor Mare smiled, as she felt Raspberry’s grip tighten. Slowly, he raised his head, and exchanged a glance with the element of kindness. He was actually smiling.

“No! This can’t be happening. It is impossible!”

Raspberry Trick looked up, and thought he saw an angel. He held Mayor Mare’s hoof tightly. He didn’t feel pain anymore. He felt powerful. When he looked at the hole in his chest, he saw that there was no hole. There wasn’t even any blood. The magic swirled around him, lifted him to his hooves. It was as if he woke up from a very dark dream. But in reality, he woke up from the dead, and proved, once and for all, that the magic of friendship and the elements of harmony were more powerful than anything else in Equestria.

“Yay! You go, Triggerhoof!” Pinkie squeaked.

He stood up, and then felt the magic lift him into the air. It swirled around him, became part of him. Something clicked into place. It was as if he discovered something inside himself that he had somehow always known. He had always known he was a good soldier, but the element of loyalty? No, he could never have guessed that.

Yet it was true. His chest lighted up, as the magic reached his heart. He hovered over to the rest of the elements, and took his place next to kindness. A glow pulsed from pony to pony, and one by one, the rainbow weaved itself in their manes and tails, making them look powerful and indestructible.

Suddenly, Pinkie yelled something. “Twilight! Your ear!”

Indeed, the magic healed Twilight’s wound as well. The bandage slipped off her head, revealing a pretty, healthy, purple ear, with no scars whatsoever. Of course, this was but a minor detail.

Chrysalis turned to fly away, to flee the scene. But her changelings stood before her. They were her children, and she couldn’t possibly abandon them. They still looked at her. Five hundred eyes watched their queen, their mother, and wondered how she was going to take care for them. She couldn’t. Slowly, Chrysalis turned around, and faced her fate head-on.

The rainbow colors shot into the air like a giant, multi-colored arrow. It went in an arch, and landed at Chrysalis. She tried to shield herself with her wings, but the power completely engulfed her. She closed her eyes. She knew that her life would end with a flash.

A halo of energy spread like a bubble when the arrow touched down. Then it exploded. Even though none of them were killed, the changelings all flew away as the energy bubble struck them, launching them miles away from Canterlot. Flabbergasted, they couldn’t react. They had no idea what was happening.

There came an end to the rainbow arrow. Slowly, the elements floated down, until their hooves touched the ground. They kept standing in a circle, as they looked down at Chrysalis.

When the terrible light was gone, Queen Chrysalis looked up and let out a gasp of horror. The ponies were huge. Each was as tall as the tallest spire in the castle. Chrysalis realized that they had somehow enlarged themselves, using the magic of the elements.

But the ponies hadn’t enlarged themselves; they had shrunk Chrysalis. She was about the size of a large beetle now, looking helplessly around.

Pinkie was the first to speak. “Don’t worry, everypony. I got this!” She reached back into her puffy, curled mane, and grabbed a jar filled with confetti. She screwed the lid off, flung the confetti around (she let nothing go to waste), and trapped Chrysalis in the jar. “There, done.”

Raspberry Trick still couldn’t believe what had just happened. He tried to remember how he entered the shadow world between life and death, but found that his head was empty. The only memories he could conjure up were happy ones. The happy memories drove back the fog of reality that always lingered in his mind. They drove back the horrors of years on Ground Zero. The radiation, the raiders, the reds, the battles, the wars, the constant fight for survival; those things all took second place in Trick’s mind. He was in Equestria now, where things were colorful and bright. The things that came first now were his family, who awaited their son’s return, and his friends, both the other ponies, and what remained of the Heat Seekers.

“Amanda! Johansson!”

Raspberry Trick looked around in the ruined tower. Amanda wasn’t there. He spotted a staircase, and rushed towards it.

“Raspberry, wait!” Twilight yelled after him, but it was in vain. She called for her friends to follow, and together the elements galloped after him.

Moving from hall to hall, Raspberry Trick tried to find his lost friends. He had no idea if they had been teleported into Equestria as well, or if they had been left behind. He saw how the others approached, but ignored them. Only when Twilight got a hold of his shoulders did he pause. “I have to find them! I have to!”

“We know,” Twilight said. “But let us search together. That will be more fruitful.”

So they did. They combed out the castle, but found no one but themselves. Raspberry Trick ended his search in the throne room, where the hidden door was still opened.

The Orb of Translocation still sat there, shimmering. Raspberry felt himself being pulled closer and closer to it. When he could almost touch the mysterious artifact, the other ponies returned.

“Is this the thing you used to get on to Ground Zero?” Trick asked.

Twilight nodded. “The Orb of Translocation sent us to you, and now I know why.”

Raspberry turned his gaze away from the Orb and looked at Twilight. “Why?”

“Because Princess Luna told me that the Orb of Translocation would send us either to a source of magic, or close to the connection between worlds. Chrysalis got sent into the crater, and built her palace around the connection, and we teleported to you, the element of loyalty. There is no magic more powerful than the magic of an element.”

“I understand, but… can I go back?”

Everypony’s eyes went wide. “Why in Equestria would you want to go back to that dreary, dangerous place?” Rarity said.

Raspberry Trick turned his head away and watched the orb again. “To find my friends and to return to my parents.”

Rarity nodded. She understood. “It’s just a shame. I’m sure you will like it here. You look so pretty now in this world.”

“Yes, and I feel better too—lighter somehow. I feel as if all the struggles have fallen off my shoulders.” But when Trick looked at his own reflection in the Orb, he got what Rarity meant. His scars were all gone. Not only the one he got from the changeling’s white-hot energy lance, but also the wounds on his back from the acid, and the burns he had gotten from advanced radiation poisoning.

“But, what about your duties here?” Applejack said. “You’re still one of the elements, after all. You have to help us liberate Equestria. Hay, Discord is still on the loose somewhere.”

Twilight turned to Applejack. “Yes, but we can’t force him to stay here. If he wants to go, he can go.”

Trick turned around, and looked at every pony in turn. “I hope abandoning you now won’t be a bad spot on my loyalty. But you have to know, I lost Equestria a long time ago. Ground Zero is my home. It has formed me into the pony I am, and I’m sure my virtues will prove very helpful.” He grinned, and rubbed his hooves together. “And, of course, there is still a whole army of changelings to kill. Without their leader, I’m sure it will be a merry slaughter.”

Rarity rolled her eyes. The others weren’t surprised. Trick was just Trick.

“Oooooooooooor,” Pinkie said, “you can grab your family and friends and live here! It will be easier for me, because then I won’t have to move all my party supplies for your big ‘welcome home reunion party.’”

Twilight stepped forward and stood next to the orb. She shook her head. “I think not. Princess Luna told me the Orb could probably be used five times. The day that we sneaked into the castle, Chrysalis revealed to us that she had sent spies to Earth. Then, we used the Orb to travel to Earth; that makes two. After that, Chrysalis jumped through, and ended up in the crater; that makes three. During our fight, Chrysalis tore the rift open, which is connected to the Orb; that makes four. Maybe the Orb can only be used one more time.” She stared deep into Trick’s eyes. “The decision you make will be a permanent one, Raspberry.”

“And don’t forget about Zecora, y’all,” Applejack said. “If we can’t use that there Orb anymore, then there’s no way we’re gonna get her back to Equestria.”

Twilight closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re right, Applejack.” She fumbled around in her saddlebag and brought out Trick’s GPS. “Zecora is still in there, and who knows how many more ponies are stuck. Maybe… maybe one of us should go with you.”

Rarity wrinkled her nose. “I think not, Twilight.”

When Twilight looked at all of her friends, she saw that none of them was very eager to follow Raspberry back to Ground Zero.

Raspberry Trick noticed their hesitation. “Elements, I could never ask for a follower. Your place is here, in Equestria, while my place is Ground Zero. But that doesn’t mean I won’t think of your friends. Hell, I will make it my mission to find them. Yes!” He stood straight, and raised his hoof in the air. “I swear it upon my name and rank, that I will accept this mission. I will look out for other ponies, protect them, keep them safe. I will not let those ponies die on Ground Zero.”

Everypony looked at Trick, and Trick looked at everypony. When at last the silence became unbearable, Twilight Sparkle slowly stepped forward, and handed back the GPS. “I trust you, Raspberry Trick. You are the element of loyalty. Of course you will be true to your word. Go if you want, and see if you can do something for the ponies there. I give the responsibility of that important task to you.”

Once again, Trick saluted. “I will not let you down, elements. The first thing I do is go back to Zecora’s hut in the woods. Perhaps I will make that my home base, because the forest will provide great cover. I will return, and make Ground Zero a safer place for everyone—except communists, of course.”

“That sounds like a goal worth fighting for,” Mayor Mare said.

Trick grinned once again. “Oh yes, there will be lots of fighting.”

“But… does that mean goodbye?” Pinkie said, her ears drooping down. “But you just got here—literally.”

For the first time, Raspberry Trick looked at Pinkie Pie without irritation, frustration, or damn-right anger in his gaze. “I’m sorry, Pinkie. It’s just the way it should be. You all would do well to forget about me and the hell you’ve been through on Ground Zero as soon as you can. Trust me, it will spare you many sleepless nights.”

With that good advice, he faced the Orb. He was just about to jump in, When Twilight stopped him. “Wait!”

“What is it?”

Twilight looked at the ground briefly, but then decided the direct way was best. “General Johansson, he is… he’s dead, Trick.”

Raspberry Trick closed his eyes for a moment. He tapped his forehead with his hoof, and jerked his helmet off his head. “Goddammit!” Then he looked up at Twilight, his gaze once again stark and grim. “Thank you for telling me anyway. I just hope he died fighting.”

“Trust me, Raspberry. That he did.” Twilight Sparkle stepped closer to the blood-red pony. “But before you go, I want to give you a gift. Please, lower your head.”

Slowly, Trick did as Twilight told him. He saw a flash of light, which reached his head first and then traveled all the way down, over his whole body, to the tip of his tail. He glowed a soft purple for a few moments, and then Twilight stepped back. “It is the same spell I used on my friends and I. It will protect you from radiation for a month. I reckon that should give you enough time to find a new suit.”

Raspberry knew what that meant; one month free of worries and fears. He stuck out a hoof. “That means a lot to me, Twilight Sparkle. It means more to me than you all realize.”

Twilight bumped his hoof, but then all of her other friends put their hooves on top of Trick’s as well.

“I admire your loyalty,” Rarity said.

“Darn fine work,” Applejack said.

Mayor Mare smiled at him. “Good luck on your quest, Raspberry Trick.”

Twilight shook his hoof once more. “Please, be safe.”

“Do you think you will be alright, without me planning your big party?” Pinkie said. “I can get you some party stuff if you wait a few days or so.”

Raspberry Trick chuckled, a rare sound. “Don’t worry, Pinkie. I will make sure to party hard.”

There was nothing more to say. As Raspberry Trick climbed the pedestal, he turned around and waved at the elements of harmony—his friends—one last time. He nodded towards Twilight. She concentrated, and shot a magical beam towards the Orb of Translocation to fire it up. It glowed a bright purple, and radiated light. Twilight’s friends saw how Raspberry Trick became transparent. The light shone right through him. Then, with a spark and a sizzle, Raspberry Trick returned to Ground Zero, his home.

When Twilight stopped casting her spell, a crack formed upon the Orb. Then another one. And another one. Cracks covered the whole Orb, and the thing fell apart. Before any of the shards touched the ground, however, they transformed into fine, silvery dust, and flew away on an unseen wind.

Princess Luna had been right.

Worlds Apart

by Elkia Deerling

Wisdom

Chapter one: Triggerhoof

Chapter two: a good man and a pony

Chapter three: the Heat Seekers

Chapter four: covert ops

Chapter five: Fluttershy's day out

Chapter six: rest in peace, butterfly

Intermission: lost and found

Chapter seven: Raspberry Trick

Chapter eight: third time's the charm

Intermission: changequestria

Chapter nine: a mare in the night

Chapter ten: surprise, surprise!

Chapter eleven: what a strange, new world

Chapter twelve: retrace your steps

Chapter thirteen: red, not dead

Chapter fourteen: a first and a second chance

Chapter fifteen: Democracity

Chapter sixteen: towns apart

Chapter seventeen: a shaman and a shock

Chapter eighteen: two surprises

Chapter nineteen: a third surprise

Intermission: the kill command

Chapter twenty: search and destroy

Chapter twenty-one: a queen of hearts

Chapter twenty-two: a second chance