> No Glory Won
>  by Mr Unidentified
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> (A1) - Prologue: Dusk [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won







Act 1, Prologue: Dusk





"It began—as always—with the desire for power; The need to conquer; The hunger to consume..."







Sunshine Tempest


It is difficult to remember life in the past, before the Great War. But it wasn't impossible. 

In my case, I have snippets here and there—of Pre-War Equestria. I can remember how green the pastures looked from the clouds as I flew home to Cloudsdale. It looked much less Artificial back then. With its metallic silos and pre-constructed cedarwood cabins that were simply placed rather than built on supple spots of land. I recalled how open and spacious the fields and farmlands were before the motorized vehicles and contraptions had taken over. 

I don't remember much except hopeful, wishful thinking that the world would be better as time went on and that technology would make our lives easier and more beautiful. 

I never imagined that in a world of magic and beauty, an era of bold industrial innovation would supersede the millennia-long status quo. 

I never imagined that the future would be built off of manufactured misery.

What I do remember (or at least, what I choose to remember) was the day it all fell apart. I knew it like the back of my hoof. It was difficult to forget. 

That day, everything changed.

I distinctly remember sitting in a restaurant in Canterlot when it happened. I was listening to the Radio as cheerful music was coming out of it. I was eating lunch. I can't remember what I was eating at the time.

However, things had been pretty good in my life until that moment. I had recently moved into Night Light's new residence in Cloudsdale. After much planning and deliberation, I decided to move into her home with her after she finally landed a job in Cloudsdale and moved away from her parents. 

We had planned to move in for quite some time now. Over the past few months, we only saw each other off work and when our schedules were free. Both of us agreed that it wasn't nearly as much time as we would like to spend with one another, and so after much organizing and physical effort, we finally pulled it off and were under one roof. 

It was a chore having to move all my furniture from one house in ponyville to another in Cloudsdale, and have them be reorganized later on. Especially when that new home is located in the sky. But we pulled it off. 

She has been my companion for as long as I can remember, although recently, during this whole endeavor, she and I have expressed our desire to be more than friends.

We preferred privacy in our company, so nothing changed in our public perception of us; to the random outsider, we looked like good friends—at least in public. We frolicked and did whatever we liked indoors, but it wasn't very often. 

Not that either of us cared that much about it. Sure, we preferred each other's company over others, but neither Night Light nor I had any problem with the lack of intimacy. We simply didn't care. We enjoyed each other's presence, and that was more than enough.

But I digress: The summer of 1011 was probably one of the more pleasant ones I remembered, really. Now that I think about it, it was not too hot with no heatwave, it was windy at just the right speed for Pegasi to enjoy leisurely flights, and the seasonal precipitation was at its annual peak for the growing of the crops after spring for Earth Ponies. Also, the school was out for the younger fillies and colts, allowing them to play and thrive outside in their respective communities during their vacation.

When I was younger, I thought life was mundane and boring. Since I was born, my life has been mostly uneventful and quiet. My childhood was not particularly interesting. I would walk around town and explore a little bit in the streets of Ponyville. Obviously, I wasn't to go into the Everfree; that place had a mind of its own, and I wasn't trying to be added to its statistics. Most days, when I wasn't in school, that implied that I wandered around town, maybe kicking a pebble down the dirt path, and nothing else happened. 

Not that I was complaining. I liked the peace and quiet. It felt like everything was taken care of, and no loose ends were left to be tied. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and everything had a sense of 'familiarity' to it. There were bouts of melancholy here and there, but they, too, had passed along with time.

But that summer. Before it happened, it had felt almost perfect. 

Night Light was promoted to her job as a standard WSR Operator, responsible for monitoring anomalous weather readings. Her job brought home good money after we moved in, so it didn't require me to do anything for the household except keep it tidy when I was home. 

That fact did little to ease my guilt about her having to bear most of the burden for us. She worked and toiled away while I quickly cleaned the house and did chores at home. Night Light repeatedly told me time and time again that it wasn't necessary, but I thought differently. I wanted to split the responsibility equally. It only felt suitable for her.

For the past few weeks, I have been trying to apply for several different jobs across Cloudsdale. It didn't really take long, of course. Unemployment wasn't an issue, but it was somewhat hard for the common Earth Pony or Unicorn to earn a job in Cloudsdale, as you can imagine.

Needless to say, I eventually found a job as a mail courier. And I was ecstatic about it. It was the afternoon of that fateful day when the mail came in about my new employment. I knew that Night Light wouldn't be home for a few hours due to her shift, and I wanted to celebrate, so that's what I did. I flew to Canterlot on my own (which wasn't really far away, only about a half-hour's flight), and I wanted to eat a good luncheon.

... Casserole. 

I remember now.

I was eating Hayburger Casserole for lunch that day.

... I think that was the first time I heard of it.





WZT-BZZZZZT!

“We interrupt this Program for an Emergency Civil Alert Broadcast." 

The radio's music was silenced to a halt, suddenly and blatantly. This captured the attention of a couple of Ponies, myself included. The Radio gave out no noise for about 30 seconds. At that point, all eyes and ears were on the radio. It gave three small chirps before a disturbed stallion's voice was heard through the speakers.

"We are now receiving reports of heavy fighting in the City of Acronage. Many reports confirm that the Changelings are advancing eastbound.  We do not know the details of such provocations at this current time. Still, it is concluded by eyewitnesses and several radar reports from the area that there is a massive influence of Changeling Aviation present in the area. Princess Celestia herself is declaring a state of emergency.”

The painful quiver in his tone was undeniable. Whatever was happening, it was not a hallucination.

"It is with deep condolence that I must report to you that this is an act of war against Equestria."

The radio continued to provide more details, but by that point, I was not paying attention, and his words became white noise. 

I felt like someone bucked me in the stomach, and a cold fearful vine was squeezing my soul. 

This couldn't be real. It can't be real.

This is just a nightmare.

I was half-expecting Princess Luna to reveal herself somewhere throughout my internal soliloquy. I even gave myself a small pinch on the abdomen. Nothing changed, and no midnight-hued Alicorn revealed herself accordingly.

It was real. The first piece of concrete, definitive evidence I heard thrust me into the painful reality that we were now at war.

I remember the despair that washed over me when the realization dawned upon me. The word itself sounded alien to me. 

War.

Ponies around me looked horrified and stunned. Some of them quickly packed up their belongings and left their food on the table without paying.

"No... This... T-this is real? How? Why?!" Someone asked.

“In light of this sudden event, Princess Celestia herself will give a speech regarding the Changelings and her plan of action. The speech will commence in one hour and will be broadcast on all frequencies.”  The radio continued as if replying to our cries.

I snapped out of my panic attack and realized I was among a select few ponies still sitting here, most of them leaving the building as they heard the news. 

I remember dashing out of the restaurant, opening my wings, and taking off to cloudsdale, leaving my lunch and the restaurant behind in a blur. Night Light, I had to get to her! 

It felt weird and out of place, but it felt like a race against the clock. For some reason, I conjured the mental image of a sickly dark storm in the distance rolling towards me, and it was a race to see if it would get there first or me.

I remember a long and rushed flight, with a million thoughts soaring through my head. Most of those thoughts were panicked and illogical. 

As the flight dragged on into the hour, more collected thoughts started to assemble in my mind. Questions were the first to emerge.

What happened? Why did this happen? What will we do now? What can we do now? What about our peace? What about our Harmony? Can the Elements do something? Where is our safety now? What will happen to us later on?

What will the Princesses do?

What will the Changelings do if they get here?

Where do we go from here?

When could we have prevented this?

How can we prevent this?

Why is this even happening?

I remember the surreality, the frustration, the fear, the exhaustion, the sobering nausea wracking my stomach, and the drive to find Night Light—all amalgamated into a cocktail of emotions swirling around like a carousel.

The flight was more exhausting than I initially thought, but I didn't stop for a moment's respite. There wasn't any incentive to wait. I had to move.

I remember landing on the plot of cloud that had my home, catching my breath as hot coals seared my lungs. I remember bolting up the stairs as fast as I could, calling her name as I searched the house.

I remember I saw her in her room, lying on the bed weeping with her face down in the sheets. 

And my heart sank. I knew at the sight of her that she, too, had heard the news. 

I remember sitting beside her and embracing her with my wings as she wept. 

I remember the crash of adrenaline and a great sorrow overtaking me.

I remember crying with her.

I remember that moment as the last time life had ever felt... Normal, I guess. Everything from that day forward changed forever.

I remember hearing the radio play more music as we wept. It was horribly inappropriate and cheerful for the situation, spewing happy-go-lucky Jazz. 

Until it fizzed, and the music was replaced by Princess Celestia's solemn voice. 

She speaks slowly, deliberately.

"... My Brave Little Ponies,

"Today marks the beginning of a new age. The start of a new trial for Equestria, possibly the most critical in our History. For whatever motivated reason, Queen Chrysalis ordered an ambassador to travel to Canterlot within the week to issue an ultimatum to Equestria: to Surrender our country or face annihilation. My Sister and I were the first to hear the Queen's offer, and my sister and I have answered dutifully—along with the consent of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire and Twilight Sparkle as well—that Equestria belongs to those who value the ideals of friendship and Harmony. 

"By this declaration, Queen Chrysalis has displayed her inept desire for vengeance against us and her lack of contention for peace. As we answered her, we tried to reason with her. We tried to convince her through diplomacy that she would not win the stability of her subjects through the force of Tryanny alone. We have tried to maintain peace. I am saddened to tell you that peace has failed. And it is my duty to tell you that this country is now at war with the Changeling Hegemony."

Silence. Both of us continued to weep. I almost hadn't noticed the Princess pausing momentarily, taking a reassuring breath. 

"We hoped that this day would never come. We truly believed that Friendship and Harmony would help solve our problems. We thought that if we banded together to siphon through the bog of interspecies diplomacy, we would find peace further established within these lands... We were wrong.

"Last night, the Changelings assaulted the border city of Acornage. As of this morning, Changeling infantry has stormed the city hall of Vanhoover. As of this afternoon, the Changelings navy has engaged with our warships in the Olenian Ocean. As of today, we must assume that the Changelings have launched an extensive invasion in the entire border region of Northwestern Equestria and that they plan to continue until there is no Equestria left. The Urgent War Committee has already formed its opinions on the situation and knows what needs to be done. They know henceforth what is at stake. I have ordered drastic measures for our defense and upcoming struggle."

Gone was the fatigue in her voice, and it paved the way for a determination to drive forward. There was applause at her choice of words.

"I know this fact alarms many of you, and those of you are scared of the future. I cannot assuage your fears with promises of a better tomorrow or hope for victory. Instead, I shall tell you this: It is okay to be afraid. It is acceptable to fear for what comes next, but would you allow that fear to take hold of you? In your most desperate hour of need? When duty calls you to answer, will you back down because of this fear? Will you condemn yourself to the fate others suffer because of your inability? Or will you instead rise up? Will you push past it and learn to live with it, even if it means you will do whatever it takes to defend your friends? Your family? Your home? Your country? Your way of life? Will you stand up to protect against the storm that threatens to drown our way of life?

"The enemy is now assaulting us in times of peace. For this reason, let us take up arms! Equestria has never before been overwhelmed by a foreign entity or invader, and it never will! As Princesses of Equestria, my sister Luna and I solemnly swear to do anything and everything in our power and duty to defend Equestria, to safeguard our way of life, and to protect our little ponies. We will strive to prevail against our invaders! We will strive to move forward to the defense of our homeland! For if Equestria stands together united with its allies, we will push back the Changeling threat!"

More thunderous applause drags on.

"The Changelings sought for nothing but to enact revenge against us. Although we fight against an immoral invader, I want to make something abundantly clear for us. By any means necessary, we are to hold on to the magic of Friendship and Harmony. Even in the face of war and death, we must never lose sight of what made Equestria whole today. In times of dire circumstances, we should never lose sight of who we are and who we are. We are to be kind, to be loyal, to be unwavering in our cause, and to be hopeful for our future. Becasue Equestria will survive! We will overcome, and we will fight back!

"The fate of everything we've ever known hangs in the balance. But you, my brave little ponies, are to be strong in the face of danger! From this day forward, Equestria shall prevail! No matter the price we pay, no matter the strength of our adversaries, no matter the trials we face, no matter the destruction they've wrought, and no matter the willingness to destroy our livelihood! Equestria shall rise from the ashes of war stronger than before, like a phoenix born anew!

"From this day forward, we will take back what is ours!" 

Eruptions of cheering blared out of the speakers, the transmission ending abruptly then and there.





“Sunshine?” A voice snaps me back to reality.

The Horizon ahead of me was a beautiful sunset. I was sitting atop a relatively large cloud facing west over the mountain range. Their smooth crests made for a perfect view as the sunlight bounced off of them and illuminated the shadows cast by the mountains.

A beautiful Mare superseded the stunning view, her jade eyes looking at me concerned.

“Are you alright?" Night Light asks again, dazing me out of my fog.

“Wha?” That was all I could say, feeling rather dumb as I did so. 

I looked at her and saw her curiously worried features. I shook the foggy thoughts out of my head. 

“I... Yeah. I’m good. I'm just... remembering stuff,” I mumbled, looking away from her.

“Remembered what?” She pressed, her hoof dragging my cheek to make eye contact again. "Something wrong?"

I should drop it. 

There was no need to continue this conversation, and there was no point. It felt weird even to consider continuing.

"Do you remember the day it all began?" I asked anyway. "The war, I mean—when Celestia gave her speech?"

There was a pregnant pause, Night Light releasing me as I looked away. To the north, the floating city of Cloudsdale could be seen. I could see her worried eyes staring at me out of the corner of my vision.

“Well, yeah, it's kind of hard to forget a day like that." Night Light shudders. "That day was horrible. I, for one, don’t want anything to do with the past. I want to focus on the now." She scooches closer to me to emphasize her point.

“Good answer," I smiled, wrapping a wing around her. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

She wrapped her wing around me in kind.

We sat quietly once again, watching the sun cross under the mountains on the horizon. It was always pretty when you were sitting on a cloud. It made you feel disconnected from the rest of the world for a short amount of time. 

And its there that I felt something. Something I haven't genuinely thought of for the first time in nearly a decade.

Tranquility. It smelled like warm sunshine, clouds, feathers, and the summer breeze. 

The subtlety of the peace and quiet only lasted for a brief moment. My mind wandered back to the mental labyrinth I had constructed for myself. 

I'm greeted with the sights of dark and claustrophobic streets;

Burning husks of vehicles destroyed;

Singed flesh of fallen friends and foes;

Deafening cacophonies of unrelenting combat;

Choking fumes with asphyxiated bodies;

Fire falling from—

"Sunshine?" 

My breathing hitched a little at her saying my name. A different thought surfaces. 

In all my time out there, I was uncertain of many things... Mainly how I might survive the next day. Half-baked half-truths to wrestle with in concurrence with the already blinding fog of war, to constantly keep me in a state of vigilance. In short, there hardly was respite for me. And what little I had was spent pondering how I was still alive. 

But there was one thing I was never truly certain of since the beginning of the war. 

Her.

Since we entered service, we have only received one letter from each other. Since then, there has been no more. I never heard back from her or heard any hint of whether she was still alive. Her whereabouts were unknown, her fate unknown.

It was as if she had vanished from the face of the planet during those long, brutal years.

... Years.

It had been years before there would be evidence that she was alive. And in all my time before hoof, there were moments where I was content to resign my fate. 

To surrender to the currents of time and the horrors of war, if it meant I could be with her again. I had only assumed the worst. There were times when I felt like I hit absolute rock bottom, and I could go no lower.

It would be years before a small fledgling of hope emerged from that abyss I toiled in.

Years.

I snapped back to the present moment, as I realized Night Light was watching me with trepidation. That same thought hadn't come back to me in such a long time. 

After all the torturous years I spent alone, I finally found my answer. And thankfully it was the answer I had hoped for.

But I knew the memories would stick with me forever. I knew we would have scars to gaze upon from time to time, both physical and mental. I knew I would have bad days and so would she.

It didn't matter so long that she was alive. To me, that was all that mattered on this planet was that she was alive. 

And I had thought that fact alone would be enough to heal both of us.

Yet...

I still have those same nightmares; Those same intrusive flashbacks, for lack of a better term, and I wanted nothing to do with my past anymore.

But what I was curious about was her past.

As mentioned before, it was as if she had vanished off of the face of the earth. I had tried, so many times I had tried, to find a way to contact her. But it was as if the world was throwing Tartarus itself in my path, over and over again, to prevent such a thing from happening. Either she had died and they didn't want me to know (a thought I refused to give the satisfaction of even considering to be a possibility) or that she didn't want to be found at all.

The latter was more hurtful to imagine than the former.

I knew Night Light wouldn't want to talk about it; every time I tried, she always brushed it aside or ignored me. I would apologize each and every time for bringing it up when she did talk about it, and she would apologize for being moody. A notion I respected, so I hardly asked.

So why do I feel so curious all of a sudden?

It was weird... It was as if she was harboring some kind of guilt to herself. Some past deed she committed that she was not proud of perhaps? Or... Maybe something else entirely, I do not know.

I thought I could relate to her; I mean, she and I went through the same thing together, just in different locations. Right?

The one thing I wanted to go back on was how Night Light was able to stay alive. 

I knew she was a pilot, but that was literally all I knew about her. Every time I tried to talk to her about her military life during the war, she remained adamantly closed about it. 

But that day, I wanted a definitive answer.

Night Light notices my hesitation. "Sunshine, are you-?"

“Hey, Night?” I interrupted her.

“Y-Yes?” she graciously responds. 

I paused. Every fiber of my being wanted to give in to my curiosity, but I didn't want to evoke painful memories.

“You said you served as a pilot on a carrier, right?” I asked tactfully.

Her features were somewhat soured at that. “That’s... That's correct.”

“Do you have any stories? About life? Out there in the open sea? Being able to fly around up there in those aircraft?”

She looked at me quizzically. “... Again Sunshine? What brought it up this time?”

“I just... I dunno." I admitted. "I mean, I imagine life on the sea was always more serene than life was on the frontlines. Like where I was. I... I just thought it was a better spot to be in compared to me.”

“Well... There were moments of peace, yes. And... The ocean was quite beautiful to look at if we weren’t under any immediate danger.” She sighed. “I didn't get that luxury very much. We would be stuck in our cots most of the days.”

A pause came between us. Night Light was looking away from the sunset to the mountain range just to our right. Sitting upon the sloped were the gleaming marble towers and skyscrapers of Canterlot.

She didn't talk again after that answer. She seemed content with it.

I should stop.

... But I didn't.

“... What was life like out there? When you were at sea?”

She was staring into space when I made my request. At nothing in Particular. “Well, I can’t remember everything at the top of my head. I’ll let you know about it sometime later.”

There it was again. Her usual defense mechanism when I try talking to her about this. I wasn't willing to take that for an answer.

"But I want to know now... Please?" I asked. 

Before I could backtrack my words, she looked at me with a pained expression.

"I... Why are you so interested to know? I don’t want to remember everything, I want to savor the good moments now. Before the war... C-Can we please watch the Sunset?"

Her eyes were piercing into mine, pleading with me to stop prying. There was a feeling of shame that washed over me as I gazed into those Jade Irises. 

I almost did what she asked. I almost stopped. But in those same eyes, there was a fledgling of a feeling lingering inside; a sparkle of doubt twinkling upon mine. And I saw in her eyes something I had only hoped was my imagination:

Regret. 

There in her eyes was a deep lingering sadness with no outlet for release. An overwhelming weight of guilt and fatigue took shape in the form of bags beneath her eyes.

She was hiding something. 

Something that was torturing her on the inside for who knows how long.

"Please, just... Just drop it, okay-?"

"Night Light." 

I spoke firmly, her head firmly placed between my hooves to lock her gaze on mine. 

"Please be honest."

Her brows raised indignantly at that.

"About what?!" She swats a hoof away. "What is this Sunshine? Why are you so interested in my backstory all of a sudden? Why can't you let the past die?"

"Because there is something you are not telling me."

A long quiet was pulled taut between us, though it was not absolute; the wind billowed our manes and tails as we both stared into each other.

“I... I was scared to death of you!" She finally admitted, staring at me with a mournful look on her face. "I-I was terrified of coming back, o-only to f-find you in a... I-in a coffin. I didn’t want to think about it. I-I had to focus on the task at hoof! I was trying to stay alive, and…” She cut herself off. Whether by intention or by her tears, I can't tell. 

Her mane was draping over her features, but I could see her neck and whithers heaving as she quietly sobbed.

Seeing the sight of her crying was a rare sight. But of all the times I did witness it, my heart ached for her. 

Only I was the one who caused her to cry. I felt like I was punched in the throat.

... I shouldn't have asked this. This was stupid. 

Supid! Stupid! Stupid!

I couldn't think of what to do as I mentally berated myself. Instead, I cradled her with my hooves and wings. 

She accepted the embrace and cried louder into my chest.

"I'm sorry." I pathetically apologized.

I stroked her mane.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I just... I'm sorry."

She tightened her grip around me and cried a little bit more into my chest. 

The sunset was now dipping fast below the horizon. Soon, it would be Dusk.

"We can go inside if you'd like," I asked gently. She didn't answer back. I stayed patient, with no reason to rush an answer out of her. I just kept stroking her mane.

Finally, she relented.

"... That'd be nice."

"Okay then. Whenever you are ready."

We sat there for a little while longer, admiring the sunset and basking in each other's warmth. 





We made it home and made ourselves comfortable. I prepared two slices of buttered toast for her as she sat in bed waiting for me. She stared at the window as I walked in, but gave a genuine yet faint smile upon my arrival.

She ate both slices, and I didn't mind. I wasn't hungry, and she was clearly troubled by my perturbed questions. It was the least I could do. 

I could only sit in silence beside her on the cloud bed we owned. She quietly munched her snack, and I sat by her side. Neither of us said a word, but the silence was comforting.

That was not meant to last, as Night Light broke it first. "Sunshine?"

"Hm? Yes?" I answered quickly.

"... Thinking about what you said earlier... You... You said you were also worried for me."

"Of course I was." I answered honestly. I wanted to say more, but I bit my tongue.

"I'm... Right, yeah, of course, you were..." she mumbled. "I-I'm sorry, it's just... Hard for me to talk about it. And... I'm sorry for not telling you all this time."

I tenderly embraced her with wings and hooves from behind, gently spooning her. "You don't have to be. You don't have to apologize for anything. It's ok."

"I know..." Night light and I both collapsed onto our sides. I gently stroked her legs as we both continued to comfort each other.

I was content with not asking anything out of her... I was. 

But I guess on that particular night, she wanted to get it off her chest.

"I want... I-I know you are curious about what happened, and... So am I for you. But... I also don't want to go down the bad parts of memory lane."

"Me neither," I answered atonally.

"So... If I tell only bits and pieces, will you be satisfied?"

My head ever so slightly shot up from her neck. I contemplated. 

Thinking she was trying to admit to something that she wanted to confess, I answered.

"... I Promise."

“Okay.” She looked at the cloud ceiling. “... You know I was a pilot for a carrier. They assigned me the ship since the beginning; I was stationed on the ‘ERNS Blueblood’. It was the more advanced of the carriers that we had in our battlegroup at the time, and I was one of its fresh recruits."

She looked away again, passing for a breath.

“I guess... I should start from the beginning."
> (A1) - Chapter 1: The Sky Calls [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 1, Chapter 1: The Sky Calls



"You are in a box. A Moving Box. They want you dead or in their lie."







Night Light


The story of how Sunshine Tempest and I got drafted began simultaneously.

We were both at our home two weeks after we had finally moved in together to cloudsdale. Mid-April, I think, if my memory is not too shabby.

Given the circumstances, we were both waking up to a casual morning—as casual as one could hope for, anyway. Despite the attempts to move on with day-to-day life, the war was nevertheless fresh in every person's mind. Ignoring it was impossible, protesting about it was uncomfortable at best, and doing something about it was unideal for everypony. 

Listening to the radio and reading the newspapers for any update on the war was nerve-wracking to keep up with. It was hard to get any information about what was going on without it being irrelevant or out of date. Keeping up with current events had to be done by Radio, and even then what was told was not what we needed to hear. They gave us an analysis of what was going on with something that already happened, instead of providing any kind of real news on what was going on in the now.

And whatever updates we did hear were not good at all. 

Acornage, Vanhoover, Tall Tale—all had officially capitulated to the invaders. Hundreds of thousands, potentially millions, were now subjugated to occupation. And there was no information on what was going on behind that black curtain of misinformation. Getting any kind of information about what was happening in the Changeling's occupied territory was just... Not available. It was as if everypony behind that invisible line that separates us from them had just vanished.

But while the first few cities fell rather quickly, there was finally some good news. Just near Whitebell, the Shire River has been fortified heavily with entrenched defenses and equipment. During this hasty redeployment, Equestria has since seen many improvements within its military; transforming it from an oversized police force to a functional army. The Changelings would’ve crossed the Shire River to threaten the heartlands were it not for these reinforcements.

But if the news was accurate, there was also another unsung hero who helped delay the onslaught: the rain. 

Rain that had violently morphed into a storm, the likes of which the continent had hardly seen; Not since the Windigos had almost successfully absorbed all of Equestria into a frozen wasteland in ages bygone. 

Unlike now, however—when a blizzard had nearly engulfed the land—it would instead be something equivalent to a typhoon. But just like in the time of the Windigos, ponies from all tribes came together to achieve this feat. The Pegasi had shaped and moved the most turbulent of the clouds from the region to the region. The Unicorns would work tirelessly charging up the clouds with their own arcane energy, to give them the extra power needed in their natural onslaught. The Earth Ponies would dig, and dig, and dig, making shelters for the Ponies of all subspecies to huddle in by the storm came down.

And within days, Equestria was under an intense deluge of water. 

This rain turned the ground into sodden mud, which then molded into a quagmire of untraversable mud plains and freshly watered wetlands. Much of the military hardware from the Changelings (and some of the Equestrians as well) became bogged down almost instantly.

It took a miracle the likes of which Equestria would probably never see again to achieve such a feat, but eventually—in tandem with a counter-offensive from the Ponies—the Changeling advance would finally be halted just shy of the Shire River. This stalemate of the front would also shift around Mead Lake on the western coastline. And to the North, in the Crystal Empire, the advance falters at the Evergreen River as the Crystal Ponies held the line. 

Despite all the odds against them, the Ponies of Equestria held fast against their enemy.

Since then, all was relatively quiet as both sides continued to dig in. After mud season ended, both sides found the idea of an attack to be suicidal on such heavily fortified entrenchments. The bridges across were already destroyed and the deterrent of Equestrian defenses proved to be effective.

But never mind that; what was happening in that other world didn't matter to me at that moment. It was stagnant and would remain so for as long as it held.

What I remember was when we were forced into that world without a choice.

I was sitting down to go through the mail, and Sunshine was making us both breakfast. I distinctly remember the smell of buttered toast and eggs. At first, there were the usual pickups: Posters of War Bonds advertisements were common nowadays, what with the war on and all. Many different postcards contain various propaganda art pieces.




"They fight so you can eat! Won't you fight for them, too?"




Nothing unusual.

As the thought crossed my mind to discard these envelopes, the next piece of mail immediately grabbed my attention. Manila folders, with the official insignia of the Equestrian Armed Forces.

When I gazed upon the envelopes, I felt my muscles freeze up, and a surreal surge of fear penetrated my core. Every fiber of my being was adamantly against finding out what was inside these envelopes. 

Carefully and slowly, I found the nerve to rip them open. Each contained a typed letter inside. I found one with my name first. It took me a minute to build up the courage to open it.

"Night Light,

"We have entered a state of Emergency that has come down to the Industry and Military Mobilizing in mass force, and in such a hurry that helping hooves are a necessity. And for this reason, we have come to full implementation of Equestria's first Conscription Act!

"As of this current moment, the Population of Equestria is Estimated to be 50 million creatures, based on calculations. By Royal Decree of the Diarchy, the new Conscription Act states that at least 5% of the nation is recruitable for active service. We have conducted a Lottery on Social Security IDs to ensure there is no prejudice and bias in picking our draftees. And as of now, YOU have been drafted to join The Equestrian Military!"

I didn’t dare finish. 

I only remember the feeling of my heart dropping in my stomach as I stood petrified.

I was being drafted.

“What is it Night Light? More war bond posters?” Sunshine's carefree voice echoed from the sizzling kitchen.

If only. 

I tore open the second envelope and found a similar note donning a different name.

"Sunshine Tempest,"

... An exact copy of my letter, replacing my name with hers.

“Night Light?” Sunshine asked again, peeking from the kitchen. “Night Light, what is it?” I just sat on my haunches and stared at my letter.

This has to be a mistake of some kind... Or an error. Or maybe a misunderstanding. 

A pell-mell riot was raging in my mind as I struggled to find an answer. Tears threatened my composure, and my eyes stung. Desperation made me continue reading in hopes of finding a loophole to exploit. Instead, I only saw instructions on where to go and who to report, our fate set in ink.

“Night Light, you’re scaring me. What is it?” Sunshine asked again. I remember just sitting there dumbfounded, holding the letter in my hooves. Sunshine picked up the second letter and slowly read. I heard no sound from her since then.

I felt a hoof draped over my back. Finally, I mustered the courage to look at her. Her eyes were wet. Her lips quivered in a frown. 

And my heart shattered at the sight. 

I couldn't tell her. I struggled to think of any way to find comfort in this situation. I turned and just sat there, like a coward. I felt her hug me from behind, her barrel seeping its warmth into me. I reached out for her hoof. Her fetlock gripping mine, Sunshine sat behind me with her shoulders silently heaving. I felt her grip tighten as she embraced me from behind.

No words were said. Neither of us knew what could be said even if we wanted to.





That ordeal was six days ago.

Replaying that day, I realized a fundamental truth about myself—a truth that I had wished to be untrue and had hoped was just a misunderstanding of myself.

The truth was that I was a coward.

How can I go forward with this?

I stood outside the entrance to Cloudsdale Airforce Base, my eyes fixed on the sign above the entrance. I took a deep breath. It took every ounce of my willpower to make it happen, but I eventually took a step forward. 

Then another step, then another. And soon, I was trotting forward.

It didn't take me long to find the terminal. Trotting inside its open entrance, a mare sat behind the reception desk, looking bored. She only looked up when I showed her my draft papers.

She quickly caught on: “Go to th' northern quarter and find Rainbow Dash. She’ll help you.” 

That made me pause.

"... Rainbow Dash?"

"Yes, the Rainbow Dash, bearer of the element of Loyalty, Heroine of Equestria, et cetera, et cetera." The mare replied with an eye roll and a bored tone. "She's been helping train th' young'uns," she replied in a drawl. "Find her in the old Air Base behind me, and she'll get you started."

... Okay then.

Emerging from the terminal with my wings spread, I took off northbound. There were Buildings on the ground as well as in the Sky that made up Cloudsdale; the majority of them being in the clouds made of cloud, with only a few exceptions on the ground for some of the non-pegasi inhabitants here and for some critical infrastructure. 

But for the most part, this place was more military than civilian from what I can see from above. More barracks and warehouses than actual houses.

There was an airbase for aircraft here in Cloudsdale, and contrary to what I had first thought, it was not in the clouds itself. At least, not the one for the aircraft. Supposedly, the traditional runway for Pegasi was up there somewhere, but that was not my destination. 

Eventually, after a little more asking around and some pointing hooves in the right direction, I nervously made my way to a small group standing in a neat line in front of a teal-colored mare with prismatic hair: Rainbow Dash. 

She was sizing up the other recruits in the neat line afront of her. I could hear her yelling as I walked to her.

“Alright, Listen up Fillies and Colts! You are here today because you just got drafted! And if you pansy asses are done moping about it, I suggest you toughen the fuck up! Celestia herself told me it's now my job to fix you all up before deployment! And you will bet your sorry asses that I am going to do just that! I will teach you the fundamentals of operating an aircraft. I will teach you how to fly with grace, and with purpose. I will teach you how to outsmart your opponent and goad them into stupid action. I will teach you how to shoot down some bugs. 

"But most important of all, I will teach you what it means to be a Pegasus! Because when I’m through with you, I want you to be better than—"

The prismatic mare had finally noticed my Presence and turned to face me. Twisting her body, she trotted up to me until she was just a couple of inches away, her expression hardened and even. 

“And who are you supposed to be?” she spoke just as evenly.

“Uh, N-Night Light. I was... told to be here.” I finished pathetically. 

After pulling them out of my pack, I gave her my draft papers as proof. She quickly read them over, nodding while doing so.

"... Hm."

She gripped a pen from her vest with a wingtip and deftly scribbled down something at the bottom of the stack of papers a couple of times, before slamming them into my chest with a hoof. 

The papers fell apart in a heap, as I fumbled about failing to grab hold of it in time.

For a moment, everything was still. Both of us stared at the ground of my draft papers flailing in the wind.

I looked up to see her burrowing holes in my skull with a stare of disappointment.

"... Slow reactions," she noted apathetically. "Not ideal.  Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"

"Y-Yes Ma'am."

She squints her eyes. "Name four types of clouds."

I blinked. "Uh... Ma'am?"

"DID I STUTTER?!" She inexplicably shouts in my face, jumpstarting my brain to function.

"U-uh, Cirro, Cumulo, Strato, and Nimbus, Ma'am!"

"Where are the flight feathers of a Pegasi's wing located?"

"Uh-" I blinked again, regaining my wits. "T-The Remiges and Rectrices, Ma'am!"

"And what is the maximum optimal Wingpower that a Pegasi can travel at to break the sound barrier?"

"... Wha-"

"ANSWER!"

"Uh..." I stammered, as my brain strained to do the mental math. "Uh, 129 Wingpower, Ma'am!" I guessed.

Silence.

No more questions followed as I stood rigid. Rainbow glared down from above me as she hovered in place for a while, scanning me up and down.

"... Well, at least you're not dumb... Alright, I can work with this. Have you met Spitfire yet?"

"Uh, n-no Ma'am."

"Then go do that. Last I checked, she was inspecting the barracks. Give her your Draft Papers, then she'll get you squared away with everything else. When you're done, come back to me and we can get you started. Clear?"

"Yes Ma'am!"

She pauses, scanning me again. "... Dismissed."

She twists away unceremoniously, her eyes locked on the formation of Cadets still standing in place. "Alright, Cadets, today we will be doing laps around the tarmac and see how well your endurance holds you up!"

I heard a few groans from behind as I trotted away from the formation. The barracks lay just ahead of me, and it was an easy walk to-

“Hey HEY HEY, WATCH OUT!” A mare suddenly yelled to my left, approaching at a very fast speed. I was barely able to step back out of her way as she flew past, barely missing me and skidding painfully on the Tarmac because of me.

Just as I was about to rush over to help, a voice screamed from behind

“OH DAMMIT, NIGHT LIGHT!” Rainbow bellowed behind me. I stiffened as I turned around to face. She clearly wasn't happy before when I interrupted her, but if looks could kill...

"I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't see-"

“Do you have eyes, Night Light?”

“Wh-What?” I stammered.

SLAP!

In a violently quick motion, her hoof connects to my face, throwing me to the ground.

“I ASKED YOU A QUESTION! YOU REPLY WITH AN ANSWER, NOT WITH ANOTHER DAMN QUESTION! I SAID: DO YOU HAVE EYES!?" She shrieks.

“YES MA’AM!” I screamed, trying to suppress tears as I stood up again, facing her.

SLAP!

a slap from her left hoof knocks me down again, somehow harder than her right one.

"I DIDN'T PERMIT YOU TO LOOK AT ME! YOU WILL NOT LOOK, YOU WILL NOT SPEAK, YOU WILL NOT EVEN FUCKING THINK UNTIL I SAY SO! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"

"YES MA'AM!" Another shrill scream came, standing up even quicker this time, the tears could not be held back this time as they pooled up. It took every ounce, every last iota of willpower, to not blink and not stare. I held my breath in and stared above Rainbow's terrifying eyes into the sky, holding my head high.

A pause. “... I'm starting to think I am talking to a mental defect! Next time, you look both ways of the runway before you cross! EVERYPONY knows this, DO YOU!?”

"I-" I stopped myself before replying correctly, "Yes, Ma'am!"

"Oh what, are you scared? Are you gonna cry, little filly?" She sneers.

"No Ma'am!" I yelled in defiance, my brow furrowing even further as the tears, thankfully, began to dry up. I wish the pain could do the same.

"Well, " she starts with a mocking tone, "I think I'll call you Night Blight from here on out, on account of you being a worthless piece of shit that shouldn't even be worth my fucking time!"

A heavy sigh escapes her lips as she rubs a wing at her eyes. "Next time, LOOK BOTH WAYS! UNDERSTAND!?"

"YES MA'AM!"

Satisfied with the verbal assault she had just committed, Rainbow turned back to the other recruits who were struggling to stifle their amusement.

“Oh I'm sorry, is this fucking funny to you clowns, huh?!” Rainbow barked as she walked up to one of them, their smiles dissipating instantly as they captured her attention. 

“Drop down and give me 100, on your wings, all of you! I wanna see who's laughing when you fly 100 laps after that! MOVE IT!” 

And so they did. Rather fast, at that. That had wiped the smug looks on their features. I quickly made my exit as she was distracted, picking up my draft papers as I did. As I flew towards the Barracks with my head sulking to the ground with a mix of shame and petulance, in the corner of my vision I saw a Lime-coated mare waving at me. 

It was the same mare that almost hit me before.

“You alright, hun?” She asked in an accent.

“Um... Sorry about that.” I mumbled, wiping a hoof to my eyes as I tried to hide the pain.

She smiled. “You’re not the only one who crossed the runway without looking on your first day.” She pointed at Rainbow Dash and her recruits who were still doing pushups.

I wanted to smile back, but honestly, I was scared that Rainbow might have eyes in the back of her head silently watching us... “Really?” I instead asked in disbelief.

"She loves her job," The mare began, "she just doesn't have the patience for it."

“... What’s your name anyway?” I asked.

“Name’s Minty Leaf.” She stretched a wing out for me, shaking it before introducing myself.

“Night Light, please to meet you. Where are you from?" 

"Vanhoova'. I moved here about a year ago," she answers.

"Oh... I'm sorry for what happened to your home."

She dismisses it with a shrug. "Vanhoova ponies are tough. They didn't like Celestia's rule to begin with. But Changelings invading their city? That will rile them up. I'm inclined to think they're okay." She trails off as her eyes glance in an unspecific direction. "Ain't gonna do me much good to dwell on it now. The best we can do is move on and do better."

"Right," I finish lamely, unsure what else to say. “Well, I have to get going. I need to meet this... Spitfire.”

She points to one of the smaller hanger-looking buildings across the tarmac. "She is inspecting the barracks, so you won't have to wait in line for her like all the others did."

"Yay." A bitter sigh escapes my lips.

"Well, hey, anyways, I gotta go, see ya later, Night." She speaks suddenly and flourishes her wings to fly off without another.

“... Sure. ” I mumbled.

After crossing the Runway (and looking both ways this time), I made my way to the Barracks. By the time I got there, the doors to one of them were pried open. It was largely empty, save for the sight of a fiery yellow Pegasus clinging to a chin-up bar on the ceiling, pulling herself up and then down.

Inspecting the barracks, huh?

“Um, excuse me, would you happen to be Spitfire?” I asked cautiously.

She glanced at me from behind her shoulder and then dropped to all fours to face me. “Yep! The one and only. What do you want?”

“Um, I’m one of the New Recruits. Name's Night Light. Rainbow said to send me here.”

Upon hearing Rainbow's name, her features softened somewhat. Grabbing my draft papers, she quickly scanned through the lines and saw Rainbow's signature. She then scanned me up and down, observing my form. “Another one, huh? Alright, Follow me. A free cot is still available here.” she proceeded down the hall. 

About a few paces into the surprisingly big interior, my bed was already folded with its sheets. It stood out amongst the others, as all the neighboring cots were already touched by a pony in some way, whereas mine was like a blank canvas. 

“This is yours. The footlocker has your uniform. Remember to keep them clean and to have your sheets folded just shy of the Pillow come inspection day or else Rainbow will have your head.”

“I, uh, I think I already have a bounty on my head from her,” I mumbled half to myself, and half aloud.

“... What happened?” She replied with a surprising warmth in her voice.

“I uh, crossed the runway without looking. Almost hit a mare.”

She laughs. 

It's a hearty belly laugh that leaves one feeling lightheaded when it's over, and it was the last thing I expected her to do in response to my near miss.

“Wow, what are the odds? That is classic! That’s exactly what Rainbow did on her first day too! Wait, hold on: did she give you a nickname?”

"Nickna-?... Oh." I am reminded of Rainbow screaming in my face. "Yeah... She called me 'Night Blight'... on account of my inability," I responded with air quotes from my wings.

She winced through her teeth as if she had been struck. "Not... The best nickname I've heard. I mean, I've heard worse."

"Wait wait, hold on," I backtracked, "You said Rainbow Dash also did this on her first day?"

No further comment, joke, or explanation was given. Just a simple answer: 

"Yep. But I didn't tell you that."

Silence. For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

She takes advantage of this and wraps an arm around my whithers, pulling me closer from to her side.

"I won't tell you her nickname, she will have my head for that, and she will know it was me who said that, but I will put it like this: Yours is not as bad as hers was. I mean, heck, neither was mine; worse than yours and Rainbow's, I can safely say, and I will forever keep that secret to my grave. I mean, it was really, really, really-"

"Is there a point to this?" I interjected with a huff, as I was supposed to be back with Rainbow by now.

"I'm getting there," she tersely replied. "As I said, I had a nickname as bad as yours. But the way I see it, I'm kind of glad they did it."

"Glad?"

"Yeah, because I saw it as an opportunity. It showed me that there was a chance to prove them wrong, a way to show them I am not what they say I am. The mind likes to be its worst enemy when exposed to things like that. I had the will to ignore it, and I just needed to find a way to surpass it. 

"So my advice?" she prodded my chest, "When you feel like you can't do any task because of its impossibility, when you think there is no way forward, fight it head on. Don't conform to the expectations of others just because they are hard on you. Don't let potential enemies get in your way. If you can't find a way, you make one."

I stared downward, more dumbfounded than I was when I walked in. 

What kind of advice is that? Fight my superior? Don't listen to them?

"Well, there's your stuff. As far as I can tell, you are all set to go. Put on the uniform and go see Rainbow when you're done. The changing room is in the back."

With that, she trotted outside and took off before I could formulate a response in my mouth. As I watched her leave, I was reminded why I was there. 

And I am reminded of my shortcomings in willpower. 

Spitfire's words echoing in my head were only confusing me.

Trying not to think about it, I shook my head and opened the footlocker. Inside was a one-piece uniform that looked like a one-size-fits-all. Soon, I emerged from the back wearing it on my person. Airtight. Horribly drab. Itchy and uncomfortable. 

Inspecting some of the other contents of the footlocker, I found some MREs, a hair brush, a notebook with a pen, and a simple hygiene kit with soap. There really wasn't much to look at so I left for outside.

Standing at the door of the barracks, I took in the scenery around me. Formations of Pegasi flying around the airstrip, with other ponies from all walks of life mingling about on the ground either socializing, conducting maintenance, or conducting drills.

Again, the reality of the situation slowly crept into my psyche to threaten my composure. Besides the lateral distance, what separated me from Tartarus on Earth was but a few words on a paper, telling me to train for a few months first to get me 'Combat-Ready.'

"...Combat Ready." The mundane words left a nauseating taste in my mouth. Although it was far from prosaic, it was so menial to say. It is so easy to dismiss it as nothing but a statistic—a statistical sacrifice for the greater good. At least, that was what they said. 

I was going to war. There was no disillusion about that. 

But in my mind, this felt more like a slow execution than a march to battle. A slow trot into my death, maybe, one that plunges headfirst into the abyss. They would give me nothing but tools of death, whereas I would give them my total obedience if it meant success.

I realized I was no longer a pony. I was now a cog in a machine, and if I wanted to survive, I had to embrace that.





Days passed by after that. The sore muscles on top of the searing pain: I can get used to that after a while. I didn’t think being a Pilot could be so physically grueling. I wanted nothing more but to collapse back into my cot sleep the pain away forever and never wake up.

And yet, my thoughts could not escape from the prison I was in. It wandered back to what life was like before in the past, only for me to face the sobering reality of the present. And worse still, every time I try to think of happy thoughts, every time I try to forget about the life I live in now, I am met with the same mental image that continues to haunt me.

Sunshine Tempest.

And I wonder, every time if she’s better off than I am. The thoughts are plaguing my mind every night I try to sleep. Whenever I think of her, it's getting harder to remember her voice and face, harder still to concentrate on my menial day-to-day tasks. Her face is still there, but the details are grainy and lost to time. Her features are somewhat recognizable in my mind's eye, but how long would that last until those too start to fade and become blurry?

This is not to mention the sobering acknowledgment that I may never see Sunshine Tempest ever again...

I shook my head, trying to shake my head of these heavy emotions and the stinging eyes.

I lay there in my cot staring at the slanted ceiling. Hearing the snores of other ponies was distracting enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep now; truthfully, I don't think I would've been able to. I was much too sore from the grueling workouts that Rainbow gave us it proved hard to move even my neck. And even if that wasn't the case, I've still yet to calm my mind, which was racing far too fast for me to slumber. 

I was... Desperate, for lack of a better term, for any kind of reprieve. I needed to distract myself in any kind of way. 

So I did the one thing that made sense to me at the time.

I sat up, an agonizingly slow process as I got out of my bed and pulled out my footlocker. Gently opening it to ensure I didn’t wake the others, I pulled out the notebook and pen,  awkwardly holding both in my mouth as I gently trotted my way to the bathroom and closed the door. I turned on the light, sat in a stall to myself, and began writing.

Even if she wouldn't be able to see this, even if it's impossible for me to send this now, even if it was for nothing... I still want to try. For myself, if not for her.

“... Dear Sunshine Tempest,”
> (A1) - Chapter 2: Hooves On The Ground [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 1, Chapter 2: Hooves on the Ground



“Every journey begins with but a single step.”







Sunshine Tempest


I wanted to run away so badly.

I arrived at a recruitment center in Whinnyapolis, asking for directions to where new recruits like me go. Like Night Light, I too was carrying my Draft Papers along with several other items in my saddlebags. After mustering what little courage I had to approach the front gate, showing them said draft papers and a few minutes of authentication, they gave me directions further into the city towards the garrison base near the western river. 

“Head towards the outskirts near the river, and find a Big Building with Celestia's Sun on top of it. Hard to miss.” the recruiter instructed.

I flew up to the clouds, and over the city, getting a good view of it from above. It was mostly unchanged, but due west of it there was a series of fortifications that spread across the city limits - No doubt trying to prepare against the Changelings if the need arose. 

There were Trenches, Foxholes, Bunkers, Machine Gun Nests, and dug-in tanks as well. Taking the city of Whinnyapolis must’ve been a big priority for the changelings because the ponies I saw stationed there looked like they were ready to fight for every inch of this place. 

Eventually, I found the building with the Sun on top. It was actually part of a compound of buildings which I only assumed was the army base I was assigned to go to. The Sun was fixed atop a tall Spire on the roof, making itself well known amongst other horribly drab constructions that it was more important and distinguished. If buildings ever had personalities attached to them, this one would be condescending.

And hovering over that compound, the drive to flee was overwhelming me.

I was never a brave pony in my lifetime. I remember the bravest thing I've ever done was confessing to Night Light my feelings to her about how much she meant to me. That was the only brave thing I have ever done in my whole existence. And part of me still cannot believe that it worked out on that day.

I was a coward.

Night Light... The mental instinct to reach and hold her for comfort was constantly wrestling my brain for control, against the chillingly sober reality of the situation. 

It was so tempting. 

I wanted to run away with her and never look back. Pleasant memories trickle into my thoughts as my eyes stung with tears. I wanted to cry out, to scream, and to shout to the aethers, about my frailty and my weakness. I wanted to plead for another way. Even if I knew they would hunt me down for treason, or whatever charges they come up with, I still had the gall to consider it. 

I wanted to run away so badly.

Instead, a shaky whimper trembles my lips.

I am a coward.

I looked around for a moment. A solitary and small cumulus cloud floated just near me and I took the opportunity to flounder in it as I landed atop of it. Taking a moment to scan around, I was relieved to find myself completely alone.

The relief quickly drowned away, and despair followed suit to replace it.

My heart throbbed painfully as a suffocating tightness was clenching my throat. Tears were freely flowing as I struggled to fight back against the sobs wracking my whole body. 

Cradling myself for what modicum of comfort remained, I only found a hollow husk of myself trying to fight against what felt like entropy gnawing away at my tortured psyche. The reality of it all finally caught up to me. I was going to waive away my independence and potentially my life in exchange for fighting for a potentially lost cause.

In my mind, it was definitive. In my mind, I was going to die.

I wallowed in that cloud for I don't know how long - a few minutes? A half-hour, maybe a full one? It didn't really matter. I was content with being marinated in my misery. 

In my nervous breakdown, I was still fighting for control to power through the anguish. But I also knew that I couldn't stay there forever, as much as I wanted to at the time. 

But more than anything else, I just wanted this to be done. 

And in my fragile mind, the only way for that to happen was for me to get this over with. 

However long it would take.

It took a lot of effort to pull myself out of the gutter like that, but I found my way out eventually. I mustered what was left of myself and gritted my teeth.

I was going to join the army, whether I wanted to or not.





I flew over the compound and watched as more ponies went through an obstacle course. I noticed they were mostly Earth Pony Stallions, hardly any unicorns, and even fewer Pegasi as trainees. The few unicorns were mostly trainers. I tried to find another Pegasi and found only one. Another drill instructor. He was yelling at the ponies in the obstacle course I was too far away to actually hear what he was saying.

The process of getting enrolled in the army was a lot more boring without some famous element bearer being your trainer and making things lively. It mostly involved mundane paperwork, physical examinations, and lots of waiting in between. It took a couple of hours, but eventually, I was officially enlisted in the army. I was given my kit and uniform, the cot number that I would be sleeping at, and an itinerary of the day-to-day stuff, week after week.

The fear and drive to run away still remained, though. In fact, it never really went away.

Normally, at this point, the process entails me to going through some kind of examination alongside the other recruits by a drill instructor. But for the foreseeable future, things were done in a sort of "impromptu" manner. Most instructions that I remember at the time were actually very short-sighted and short-notice tasks that kept us focused on training and nothing else. Or at least, that's what they want you to think at that time. 

I didn't recognize it at the time, but in hindsight; it wasn't to keep us focused on something in particular, it was intended to keep us unfocused about the war itself. Because by that point, it was going quite poorly for us. 

But I digress: because of the level of improvisation the army was having to accomplish to keep up with the demands of recruitment, the instructor specifically told me to report to my Drill Sergeant and to join the others. So that was what I did at the time.

I found the Drill Sergeant in question that I am to report to, who turned out to be one of the few Pegasi here. He was already giving instructions on some recruits going through an obstacle course by the time I arrived.

“... They will not hesitate to shoot you, so move as if your life depended on it. Because it does!” He bellows at the top of his voice - though not as viscously as Rainbow did from what Night Light had told me. As the recruits continued to pick up the pace, the pale-blue pegasus caught my presence and smiled at me. “Well look at that, another Pegasus. Neat! We could definitely use more."

Silver Coat, Azure tinted Mane and tail, Pegasus... 

Wait.

"Soarin? Is that you?" I asked in bafflement.

Soarin stopped dead in his hooves. He took a careful moment to inspect my facial features.

"... Do I know you?" he carefully asked. "Should I know you?"

"Well uh, no, but I know you. You were one of the Wonderbolts! I mean, it's... Kind of hard to get rid of that kind of reputation."

He gave a small chuckle at that one.

"I guess. So what do you need? Are you another recruit?"

“Uh, I’m supposed to be here, I believe,” I answered. As he was scanning me, my wings, my hooves, and stopped at my eyes, he carried this aura of intensity about him. He was quick to talk and quick to act, wasting no time in between with menial semantics. 

“Hmm... A bit thin. But, we’ll make due out of you yet. You’ll have to be situated in the compound first before we begin. I’ll give you the- oh, hold on- CORPORAL! You’re in charge of the recruits! Make them run until they can't, then make them run some more!” The pegasus yelled, to which the corporal replied with a quick salute, before barking orders at the recruits. 

He turns his head back to me. "I'll give you the tour." he gestures towards him with a nod, and I soon follow him.

“You were on the frontlines when Acronage got hit, weren't you?" I asked suddenly "I heard about you on the radio broadcasts and read in the papers... They gave you quite the bad rep for leaving the city behind.” I asked skeptically. The story itself sounded like fabricated drama that was conjured for the sake of shock value, but there were still nuggets of truth to it.

Soarin was there. He was in charge of the defense of Acornage, and he made the decision to retreat. That much is clear to be true. It didn't stop the media from having a frenzied field day out of it though, claiming that incompetence and cowardice was the result of him leaving the city behind. I knew that to be bogus.

And I had an opportunity to learn from the pony himself about what really happened. I had to ask.

He swept his back mane with a wing before putting on his cap, slightly awkward. “Erh, yeah. I was... It was ugly." He shifts his focus to the ground for a little while. And with a jerk of his head, he changes the subject. "I’m here now because I got transferred by another general, who happens to be better at the job.” 

I gave him a quizzical look. He quickly caught on.

“... Oh, I’m not upset, don’t get me wrong. If they believe they are more efficient than me and can get the job done better, then who am I to judge? Besides, I never really liked the pressure. You make one wrong move, and thousands die. Or worse.” 

Morbidly nodding along as I followed him, I contemplated upon it. "How come you were a general in the first place if you didn't want 'the job,' so to speak?"

He glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow at that one for a little while. But he eventually rolled his eyes and sighed.

"There weren't a lot of other options at the time. And when the decision was made four years ago, Equestria was different back then. The world was different back then. And in the end, I failed to adapt to it. So they gave it to somepony who was more capable than me. And personally?"

He stops to twist around and face me, his expression even. "I'm okay with that. Because I know that I am not that capable, at least not yet. And they know it too, so they sent me here to find some use of me. And I cannot blame them for that either. The bottom line is: I am content with my new position, and the one who replaced me is content in their position too." He paused, glancing down. "... At least, as content as one can be in such a situation."

"Hm. So now you're here for the foreseeable future?" 

"Until they have other plans for me, yes." He concludes. "Now enough lollygagging, we're on a schedule here." 

We continued along and made it to what I assume was the Barracks. It was a short single story Longhouse, with double-stacked bunk beds on each side of the hall, fit for at least 100 Ponies. The more I looked around, the more I noticed that the entire airbase was filled with these kinds of buildings. All of them combined would fit at least a few thousand Ponies... Maybe more.

“You done staring? Come on, pick up the pace.” Soarin Interrupted. I proceeded to follow him inside, leading me to the near end of the Longhouse until Soarin stopped. 

“This Cot is yours. You’ll be given a uniform soon, but we’re a little deficit right now. The footlocker under the bed is yours. Feel free to store and take whatever’s in it.” I proceeded to inspect the contents of the Footlocker, finding a soap bar, some political magazines, toothpaste, and a toothbrush... Better than nothing I guess.

“At the end of the Barracks, there’s the Showers. We have regular showers every morning at Oh-seven-hundred hours, so don’t use too much Hot Water. Just a quick two-minute soak and wash, then out. It'll be separated by gender, so no worries there.” 

He then trotted out towards the door leading outside, me following behind him along the way. He was standing on the grass outside and pointed a Hoof towards the Large Terminal near one of the Hangers. “Every morning, at Oh-eight-hundred hours, we gather outside that building and do morning warm-ups after breakfast. Every single day." 

He grazed his eyes up and down on my physique once more. “... Hope you don’t die within the first few days.” He finished. I bit my tongue at that comment.

“Right," I carefully asked, “Anything else to show me?”





The next location on Soarin’s list was the Mess Hall. It was another fairly wide and roomy longhouse; A somewhat more pleasant atmosphere than the barracks, at least. There was a Cafeteria, a sort of L-shaped atrium with Tables and benches to sit on. Around this atrium was the servery, a walled part of the mess hall where the occupants go to pick up the food they collect to eat. The head chef cooks for most of them, and is the most beloved guy in the whole base, from what I can tell. They serve the food, they go pick it up,  then they sit and eat. 

“The Head Chef’s name is Mince Meat. Nice guy. Just don’t criticize the cooking, and you'll be fine.”

A few soldiers were already sitting down and enjoying their meal. I continued past them to follow Soarin again back outside, earning a whistle from one of the Stallions. Mentally blocking it out and moving along, we trotted to the next building to the left of the Mess Hall. As we entered inside, we found a Mare operating an Automatic Sewing Machine, wiping a hoof over her furrowed brow to wipe the sweat. 

“This here is where you can get a new uniform here in case anything happens to the one you have currently. But in your case, you never had a uniform, so we’ll get you assorted.” He trotted toward the left side of the building, to find a tall Metal Cabinet standing against the wall almost touching the ceiling. He opened it, pulled out one of the Green Camo-patterned outfits, and handed it to me with his wings, to which I accepted.

“Put this on. Every soldier in training is required to wear uniforms outside of Curfew.” Soarin updated.

“Of course. I’ll put it on the second I have the chance-” 

"No, it has to be now. I'll turn around if you want." He interjected. "... Sorry." He shrugs.

"I... Fine," I responded, inspecting the uniform in my grasp, "And yes, I would like you to turn around." 





I proceeded to follow him outside once I got assorted with my new gear. I looked towards the large building with the Golden Sun on top. It looked somewhat symbolic as if it was some kind of monument. Soarin took notice of me staring at the building, to which he sighed. “Are you gonna continue to gawk, or can we get a move on?” he spoke impatiently. 

“What is it for?” I asked.

“The Sun? Or the Building?” he asked impatiently as he kept moving.

“Well, both really.”

He sighs. “I don't know what the Sun is for. For Princess Celestia, I guess? Who knows? And the building is HQ for this Military Compound. That means some top-notch Army Generals are in there right now, doing who knows what.”

“You mean the generals don’t stay near the frontline when leading his troops?”

“Some do.” Soarin looked away for a moment. “Some don’t. I was one of the few who did. Didn’t end well for me.”

“What do you mean?” I inquired.

He shook his head once and snorted. “Doesn’t matter now. Come on. The next stop is the Barber. He’ll give you trims with that mane of yours. It’s mandatory for all Hoof Infantry, such as yourself.”

I drew a hoof through my mane, basking in its long silkiness, only to have it taken away from me soon enough. “I’m not going to be bald, aren’t I?” I asked worriedly. Soarin gave me a puzzled gaze. 

“Goddesses, I hope not. Snips isn’t that bad - at least, not as bad as Snails," he continues forward, "You’ll just get a short Trim.” 

We walked around the base for a good 2 minutes or so, before we made our way to a large tent, with high-cushioned wooden chairs scattered around it. There was nopony else in there, but there was one Teal colored Unicorn, with a Dirty Blonde Mane wearing, what I assume is a Barber’s Uniform, who was levitating several tiny utensils neatly into one of his boxes. He noticed me and Soarin walking in, and smiled. 

“G' Afternoon Soarin. Who is this?” he asked with a drawl.

“Another new recruit, and she needs the usual trim. Can you spare some time to do it?” Soarin requested.

“Ain’t like I am doing anything right now.” He quickly answered as he sorted his tools.

“Perfect, I have to get back to my cadets in training now, Corporal has probably punished those poor souls beyond belief. As for you Sunshine, get your trim and meet outside the course where you met me. I hope you remember where it is.” Soarin Instructed.

“I do sir. I’ll be done soon.” He left shortly after, which left me and Snips alone in the tent.

“So then, would'ya kindly sit down on this chair please?” Snips asked. I nodded and folded my wings as I sat rump first. Once I was comfortable, a green cape of cloth was telekinetically wrapped around me, covering my torso, hooves, and flanks. He started to spray water all over my mane, getting it soaked, as he began to brush it.

“So... Sunshine is your name?”

“Mhm. Sunshine Tempest. And you’re Snips?”

“Eyep. Pleased t' make your acquaintance. You must be yet another poor victim of th' ever-hungry draft, and it is my sowrn duty to give some of those victims th' best haircut they e'er had before they are sent out to the fron'. Of course, it will be 'nother - Ah' dunno - two or three months before you're shipped out to the front, but ah'll make sure your hair is all acquainted.”

The drawl made it somewhat harder to understand him, but I got the gist of what he was saying. And he seemed to be enthusiastic enough about his job that It was somewhat infectious.

“You, uh, seem awfully friendly for a barber stuck in the military.”

“Just humble is all,” he asked, as he continued to spray and brush my Mane. 

This continued for about two minutes or so until he stopped spraying. Shortly then, I hear snipping noises to the sides of my ears, as bits of my mane fall to the floor. A part of me will miss it, in a foalish way.

“So, Sunshine, where are y' from?”

“Cloudsdale. I had a residence with my marefriend before I was drafted.”

“Your Marefriend huh? Damn, that must suck. Y' have mah sympathies."

“Yeah, thank you. Especially because she was also drafted.”

That took him for a pause. “Wait, she was conscripted too?”

“Mhm.” A tang of sadness grips my chest. 

“... I'm truly sorry for that.” Snips said Sincerely.

“Thank you.” 

“A’hm sure it’ll be easier. Ah hope so, anyway.”

He continued to cut away my mane. I could feel the weight of it slowly disappear, one chunk of it at a time falling to the tent floor. 

When it was at least Shoulder Length, Snips stopped cutting and began spraying and brushing it once again. This lasted for about one more minute before he stopped.

“There, finished!” He proudly stated, and lifted the cape off of me, freeing me from the chair. 

He telekinetically lifted a small mirror in front of me, revealing my face and mane. It was shortly cut, all along my back neck and stopping at my shoulders, wet though still pertaining its earthly vanilla color. 

“I think you look great, honestly,” Snips noted. "Not too shabby if I say so myself."

“Yeah... Not too shabby.” I admired how neatly it was snipped. I guess that must've been where he got his name. 

It wasn’t too short as to confuse me for a Stallion, which was all I was going for really. “How many times have you done this before?”

“Speaking Honestly, not that much. Ah' just got signed up as a Military Barber when the war started to avoid the frontlines. Which was... three months ago, Ah' think?” 

"I wish I had a special talent for cutting hair to do that..." I muttered darkly. "But, I'd say you’re pretty good for an Amateur.”

“Well thank you! Ah' thought I did well, too! 

"And uh, thanks. For your sympathies." I don't know what possessed me to say that, but it felt nice to get that off my chest.

"Well, you're welcome then. But ah' suggest you oughta get along now. Soarin is waitin'.” he glances at the exit

“Yeah, thanks again.”  Hopping from my chair I made my exit. I looked back and saw him smiling and humming as he resumed organizing his belongings.

I would see Snips again soon before I would be deployed. Although since then, I haven't heard from nor seen him...






Present Day


"Everything else I remember after that was getting myself changed into uniform, and getting ready for 90 days of hard training. They were not sugarcoating, either. My life was on the line, so I was forced to adapt." 

It wasn't my intention to scare her about some of the details, but I wanted her to at least get a good idea. Although, I'm sure she already has. 

"On the Frontlines, life was always hectic, and every now and then, you would wake up from what was once a lazy afternoon to an all-out firefight. Some days would suck."  I concluded.

"... Yet here you are. You survived. How did you?" Night Light asked.

"I almost didn't a couple of times. And I had a couple of Miracles saving me every time."

"... I know how you feel."

I gave her a short gaze. She looked at me blankly back. We both stared into one another for a bit.

"So, you were saved by a couple of miracles then?" I asked.

"More than a few." she answered plainly.

I felt saddened by that thought somehow. On the one hoof, she survived, and that in itself is a Miracle. On the other, She didn't deserve to be in that position.

Nopony did.

"Well, do you wanna tell your part of the story next then?" I asked with anticipation.

She gazed away comprehensively, thinking to herself for a short period of time, before looking back reassuringly.
> (A1) - Chapter 3: The Blueblood [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 1, Chapter 3: The Blueblood



"We're gonna need a bigger boat!"







Night Light


Today was the day.

The last day for basic training. Graduation. I had endured 3 months of Rainbow Dash constantly barking orders at me, having been inside of a Centrifuge Machine and passing out inside on more than one occasion, and having flown an aircraft (pretty sloppily, I might add) to get the feel for the controls, I was finally at the home stretch. 

Before doing that all of that, though, we had to actually learn the controls of an aircraft. It felt more like an institutionalized prison than a training camp during those long weeks. We had to learn the ins, outs, and in-betweens, of most of the planes that we are able to learn about. For 'knowing what your aircraft is,' in their words, 'and knowing your enemies' capabilities will give you the edge you need to survive in combat.' At least that's what they say. 

Flying inside the damn thing was actually a lot harder than I could've ever taken for granted. Taking off was hard enough to do, let alone actually flying it. I had crashed nearly three times on takeoff trying to get off the tarmac to no avail. On my fourth and last chance, they told me I wouldn't fly an aircraft again if I couldn't pull it off. Miraculously, I succeeded that day. And had actually managed to fly for over 10 minutes before coming down for a successful landing. Suffice it to say, they gave me another chance to redeem myself.

It was an odd and surreal feeling to see all those ponies cheering me on as I emerged out of it from a successful test flight; Ponies that were rooting for me. For the first time in my life, I had felt gratitude to complete strangers. The odds were stacked against me, and despite that, I emerged from the other side victorious. I couldn't deny the thrill I had afterward. Since then, training had gone along steadily for me. I was taught to fly in formation, how to use the radio, how to give proper orders and callouts, and how to endure high-G environments, and have participated in multiple practice skirmishes. The weeks soon breezed by by that point, and time felt like a blur.

But today - today is supposedly the final day. Everypony will get shipped out for their assignments, their aircraft, their regions, and their squadrons. To be honest, I still have no idea where I am going, what I will fly, and whom I will be flying with. This was the moment I was deeply afraid of the most. This would be the moment I would be thrown into war.

It still seemed surreal to me, after all this time. Even months after I was taken away from my normal life, it felt impossible to wrap my head around the idea that I would be flying and fighting for my life, and for defending my home. 

I was going to war.

It was nauseating to think about most of the time, so I chose not to dwell on it. Instead, I chose to focus on the now. The now was all that mattered at the time. Or that's what I told myself, anyway.

Ponies stood in rank and formation, in front of the barracks waiting for Rainbow to show up. There, lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, staring forward with a stern stare, were the class of graduating cadets now who were soon-to-be pilots. Nopony moved a muscle. The number of hardships they had endured from Rainbow had molded these ponies to be conditioned and disciplined if nothing else. Myself included.

Finally, after waiting for what felt like an eternity, Rainbow revealed herself in her usual way. She flew in from overhead behind us, performing an agile loop while in the air, and landed gracefully in front of us in her grand entrance. Upon landing, the formation stood rigid and several standing officers saluted her upon arrival. A brief moment of silence was shared as Rainbow returned the gesture for a short moment. Upon lowering her wings, the officers stood rigid as well.

“Alright Cadets, listen carefully because I am not repeating myself!"

Her usual arrogant bravado was replaced with... something that I couldn't really quite pin on her at the time. Looking back on it, I think it was a sense of pride that strove her to behave as she did there and then. A conviction to drive us to strive for better. Her words afterward only reinforce that reflection. She seemed... proud of us. Proud of what we became. Though she never explicitly mentioned it, she made sure we knew it with her words.

"In a few hours from now, you are no longer rookies! You are now certified, bonafide pilots of the Equestrian Royal Air Force. As of today, you stand here before me now because you have undergone the trials and tribulations of what it means to be a true Pegasus. And true Pegasi never give up! True Pegasi persevere until the very end, even if it feels like they can't keep going anymore! And by standing here before me today, you have proven to me that you have what it takes to be a part of Equestria's finest! Over the past few months, I have turned you from nobodies into Equestria’s Guardians. As a pilot for the Equestrian Royal Air Force, you are the first and last line of defense for our way of life and our future! You are responsible for ensuring that our skies are safe and secure for those that dwell below. You are responsible for not just Equestria, but for all ponykind. Understand, this is no picnic. This is the fate of all of Equestria is solely placed in your hooves - maybe even the world.” 

She paused, and looked at each and every one of us, staring at our eyes intensely. 

“This will be the last time I will see you, cadets. So, for my final lesson to you as a teacher before you become pilots, I say this: Never lose Hope.” The cadets, moving their heads instead of their eyes, looked at each other, then back at Rainbow. “The enemy will dedicate their lives to literally steal this hope from within you. Only through sheer determination and willpower can you overpower that opponent. But to do so, you must hold onto the hope that one day, the world will be a better place. That this war will finally be over, and in the end, it will not be told by the changelings and how they have conquered Equestria, but instead by how you, the Guardians of the Sky, have fought back against the Onslaught!”

I remembered that I should be feeling scared. I remembered that I should be terrified of such a responsibility thrown on my shoulders… 

Yet... I was not. I can definitely see why she was given the Element of Loyalty, in retrospect. Her energy, her undying allegiance, and her confidence radiated off of her like a shining star. And I can tell that the others felt honored and privileged to be mentored by such a pony. Even I have to admit: I felt a sense of grandeur and awe in the presence of such an inspiring figure. I felt... invigorated for lack of a better term. I didn't truly know, deep down, if I was actually prepared for what was to come. 

But I was gonna have to prove it one way or another by trying. Either way, I knew that I had to try.

“There are numerous cargo chariots on the western side of the Airbase. The seats have several numbers on them, just find the spot with your number and get in it. When everyone is seated the chariots will take you to your destination.”

Nobody replied when Rainbow stopped talking. So she started to look at the list.

“Cloudy Swirl!” was the first name she yelled.





Time had passed as the chariots began to fill one by one. I could sense that I wasn't that long down the list.

“Marine Shores!”

“MA’AM YES MA’AM!” 

“Hurricane. Mariposa airbase. Number 7. Squadron 11.”

No reply, only a salute and she flew away to the west.

“Night Light!”

My heart jumped. “MA’AM YES MA’AM!” was all I replied, as I saluted with my wing.

“Fulmar. You'll be onboard the Blueblood docked in Manehatten. Number 8. Squadron 28.” 

I saluted once more. I felt a compulsion to... do something to Rainbow Dash before I left. She told me this was the last time I would see her again, and a part of me felt guilty for going on wordless as every other recruit has done thus far.

And I simply walked by.

I just kept going forward, and that was it. I looked back once, and that was the last time I saw her there. Part of me regretted it at the time, but it didn't last long.

Unfurling my wings, I flew to the Western side of the base with haste. There were in fact about ten different chariots lined up, all of them partially full of other ponies with their own destination. Each of them was more spacious than I imagined, fit for at least ten ponies each. They all had four Stallion Pegasi tethered to the harnesses to ensure they would arrive at their destination. Each spot of the singular bench that the chariots hosted had been numbered by a hermetic glyph; glowing numbers told ponies where to sit.

It didn't take long for me to find my seat. I found myself aimless soon after. I didn't know how long I was going to wait, and I didn't really have anything to do. What I did know was where I was going. This chariot contained all the naval pilots for the Blueblood. This means there would be no detours as it was a straight shot trip directly to Manehattan.

Part of me was excited to go to the city. I had always wanted to visit in my youth, and I never had the chance to do so. Then I remembered that I wouldn't really have the chance to explore the city because my curfew has me strictly confined onto the ship and nowhere else. So that plan was shot.

I sighed to myself in anxious exhaustion. Every nerve in my being was tingling with dreadful anticipation as I buckled my seat.

“You’re Night Light, aren't ya?” I heard a stallion speak to my right. 

Another pilot tried to socialize with me. He had an amber coat, a beige mane, and green eyes.

“Yes,” I replied atonally, looking back down.

“Well... it’s nice to meet a fellow wing pony.”

“... Well, nice to meet you, I guess. Do you have a name?”

He pointed to his Cutie Mark, which was a Four Leaf Clover. “Four-Leaf is what my parents gave me, but Lucky is what most ponies called me since. I reckon you can guess why they call me Lucky.”

“... I can only imagine." I drolled to him, but I said so quietly that I doubt he heard it.

“You're Flying the Fulmar?”

“Yeah.”

“Neat... Squadron?"

"28th."

"Hm. Me too. I guess that means we'll have to watch each other's backs then, huh?"

"Hm. I suppose so."

More Ponies were loading up in the Carriages. It took about 10 minutes after I sat down before everypony was ready. The Chariot Pullers one by one signaled that they were ready to take off, and proceeded to fly away. My carriage was heading East Bound, to the Ruby mountains first.

Thankfully, there wasn't much small talk after that. I was never good at it, and I preferred silence.





The ride to Manehattan was relatively short. It was Late Afternoon by the time we past Whinnysota The trip would last for about 4 hours before we would reach our destination. I took this as an opportunity to try and not talk to the other ponies while we were waiting. There were 9 other ponies who were to be stationed on the Blueblood, and it seemed all of them had literally everything to say.

One of them was Lucky, whom I had already met in the Chariot when he introduced himself. I didn't know anything about him, nor did I feel like inquiring about his history. Something about the way these ponies were talking, as if nothing was wrong with their lives, and yet they are being shipped to possibly one of the most dangerous jobs on the face of the planet right now. Some of them even volunteered. I never understood it. Either they were lying to themselves, or they were just trying to pass the time. Either way, I preferred silence.

It still baffled me why anyone would want to willingly sign up for this terrible war. Protecting your homeland is as good of a reason as you can get. But to risk your life to do such a thing takes serious courage and bravery; something I lacked entirely.

I was just a coward. 

Even when Rainbow Dash was giving her speech earlier, I still felt apprehensive about the future - my future. And now that the inspiration wore off, I was starting to have second thoughts.

But there was no running away this time.  

I shook my head and tried to think about something else, focusing my attention on the passengers around me. The others were not very memorable, but there were a few faces I remember today. 

One was nicknamed “Big Mouth.” Sporting a chocolate brown coat and charcoal mane, he got the name "Big Mouth" because he had always spoken in a very vulgar manner. Memories of him shouting obscenities during practices and workouts were not uncommon, nor were his punishments for doing so (which resulted in even more vulgarities being shouted, which thusly prompted more punishments, and thus the cycle continues.) He would always ramble on the most ludicrous insults anypony had ever heard, only for him to one-up himself with another rare vulgarity that was so outlandish, so obscene, that it couldn't help but be remarked as incredible.

Another face I remembered was a foreigner Mare from Stalliongrad, with a vibrant Crimson coat that complimented her Silver mane. She went by “Naya”, a shorter word for her real name which she also never told. She had a solitary persona about her, but when she did talk she often spoke well-mannered. She never talked about her own past life though, nor her country - mostly out of peer pressure to keep shut about it, from the few ponies who were not sympathetic to the politics of her homeland. There were still some bad memories about the December Revolution that paved the way for apprehension with her and the others. 

She stayed reclusive out of necessity more than out of choice.

All of them I knew only because they were in my squadron. For that whole ride in the chariot, I did not pry into somepony else's past life or tried to start a conversation, but they were all eager to give out all of theirs apparently. I never paid attention to it, I had tuned the whole thing out as I lingered on other thoughts. I really only tried to remember Sunshine and her features. Tried to keep my mind off of what was to come. Dread seemed to circumnavigate whatever mental defense I erect for myself, an seep into my soul. No matter what I thought to myself, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling in my stomach.

Several ponies did try to talk to me, of course. I would usually dismiss them with simple answers. The conversations were rather one-sided, and I didn't reveal much of anything for them to go by. Eventually, they gave up. Thank Celestia for that.

The carriage ride was over before I even realized how much time had passed. I was so lost in thought that time passed in a blur. It was about dusk when we arrived over Manehatten. The lights from the city were radiating brightly in the distance, as the sun was slowly being lowered, and the moon rising on the other horizon. It looked bigger than I last remembered. More Buildings and factories were constructed to the south of the city, making the city limits expand for another couple of miles. To the east of the downtown district, I could see the massive harbor, with a number of ships moored in the harbor. 

That was when I saw it for the first time: The ERNS Blueblood. The Pride of the Equestrian Fleet.

The Chariot was landing on the carrier itself, as ponies on the flight deck were clearing away for the landing Chariot. I got a good look at the outer shell of the carrier. It was very long and designed to hold more aircraft than its predecessor. There was a Metallic glint coming off of the flight deck itself. It took me a moment to realize that the flight deck itself was armored. The control tower, about 60-80 meters in height, had a spinning radar dish on the top, designed to detect any and all incoming aircraft. And altogether, combined with all of its strengths and its size, it was a very majestic ship. I can definitely see why, having a closer look, why they call it the 'Pride of the Fleet.'

We touched down gently, and the side doors of the Chariot swung open, signaling me and the other ponies sitting with me to exit the chariot. Soon, the chariot took off once more, heading westbound, as the sun finally set below the western horizon, its cerise hue still illuminating the sky.

A Unicorn Pony trots out of the Control Tower onto the Flight Deck, drabbed in what I assume was a naval officer’s uniform. Her eyes were fixed on us as we landed together. Along behind her to the sides were ponies in sailor uniforms.

“At ease, pilots! Welcome to the Blueblood!” She quickly gave each of us a salute with her hoof. “You are here now because you are replacing the last few vacant spots we need to bring our air capabilities to full capacity. And I’m not gonna sugar coat you, this is not going to be easy.” 

Everypony gazed at each other in apprehension.

“Now, of course, I can’t see into the future, I’m not a Seer. But that is just about the gist of it around here. You fly, or you get shot down. So try not to get shot down.”

“Charming,” Lucky muttered to himself.

"What's that? Somepony say something?" the officer barked with sudden gusto

Nopony replied, and nopony dared to move a muscle. The officer gave each of us a death stare before continuing.

"Right then." Her attitude shifted gear from foreboding to somewhat merry... which was arguably more frightening. "You’re here now, And we will handle the introductions soon when you are all done getting settled in. For now, though, we have several other sailors who will give you a grand tour of all the ins and outs. Until then, get acquainted.” 

Upon mention, the sailors immediately got busy making introductions and indicated to follow. They guided us towards the control tower on the port side of the ship, where a bulkhead door was already open leading downward to the lower levels of the ship. 

“I don’t think it’s necessary to give you my name since you won’t be seeing me all that much during your sorties anyway, so we will just go ahead and get started with the tour." One sailor bluntly greets. "Follow us."

Whilst I and all the other ponies lagged behind him closely, he led us further down the deck into the control tower. “The Curfew Quarters are on the starboard side. For Pilots, like yourself, Floor B has your cots. Find your friends or anypony with a maintenance badge, and they’ll guide your way back if you have trouble.” 

We trekked down a flight of stairs leading to the lower floors. I saw the Letters Painted on the wall stating what floor I was on. A, B, C, and D - which was where we were heading. By the time we got down to the lowest floor, I was greeted with quite the sight.

Tens of aircraft are all neatly lined up in single-file columns. Ordinance was neatly stacked and oriented in the corners, some looking larger than a pony. Ponies of all kinds - Unicorns, Pegasi, and Earth Pony - were conglomerated together in a synchronized and organized fashion, everypony working around the clock with their own task to focus on without the need for delay. There were some catwalks on the upper levels that led to more bulkhead doors, hosting more ponies waltzing around.

“This is the Hanger Bay. You’ll find your aircraft in here if not outside on the flight deck, or in the air… Sometimes they don't come back.”

I felt a tug of sadness mixed with apprehension wrap around my gut at those words.

“Do you lose ponies frequently at sea?” I asked once more.

“There are ponies who keep track of that sort of thing. Not my job.” 

A contingent of ponies from various walks of life worked together in small groups as they performed basic maintenance around the ship. We walked across the entire Hanger Bay to the other side of the room, which was where another staircase was. We trotted up the stairs leading to the catwalks and made our way up, stopping at Floor B. This was where our rooms were supposed to be located. There were several halls with smaller doorways leading into different bedrooms. Each room I noticed had two bunk beds, high enough to fit four ponies per room. Still felt somewhat claustrophobic, especially for a pegasus like me.

“This is the bunk hall. Your beds are whoever gets which one first - first come first serve. If you have any questions about your daily duties, ask one of the naval officers. Or Admiral Cynosura, if you're brave enough.”

“Why do I have to be brave to ask the admiral?” I gave him a curious look.

“I’m pretty sure the admiral has better things to do than answer petty questions, so ask at your own risk.” He answered wittily.

"Are you always this rude to newcomers?”

He gave us a frown of disdain, before relenting with a sigh. “Look, I… I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just… we’ve already lost too many good ponies. I don’t want to lose another one close to me. So I avoid getting close at all. You play with fire, you get burned. So the best piece of advice I can give you is to not get too close to anypony... It’s easier that way.”

I sighed wearily. 

“Too late for that,” I muttered.

“Well, my job is done. Find Captain Beaugard in Hanger Bay tomorrow for your assignments." 

When he finished, he left with me to my thoughts and everypony else fending for open cots. as I made my way to a random room, I noticed another pony laying in the bunk across my left. Their chest slowly rose and fell with each passing breath. Asleep I reckon. 

I lay in the bottom bunk to my right, prodding it with a hoof to test the mattress. Not firm, and not infected with lice at least... and there's a pillow. Good enough. 

There, after getting a little comfy laying on the bed, I inhaled a deep breath for a moment before exhaling. 

I suddenly found myself alone, staring at the ceiling. And it suddenly hits me, like a silver bullet piercing my mind.

This was my new life now.

And the urge to cry surged back up again in my eyes as I tried to fight it. 

My thoughts inevitably drift back to what life was like before. Where I would wake up in the mornings and work all afternoon. A simple lifestyle that I was more than content with living. Even after going through basic training, and even after finally getting situated in where I am supposed to be, I can still say this with just as much confidence as I could on day one:

I was a coward.

I never asked to be here, and I never wanted to be here! I just wanted to live a normal, peaceful life and grow old and die in my bed! Is that so much to ask!?

Apparently so, since now I am stuck here in Manehattan inside some titanic metal... thing that is now about to be my new home, cruising away into a life I have little to no chance of surviving.

Twisting my body towards the wall, I wanted to wallow in my misery and just sleep for... I don't know, hours? Days? I just wanted to sleep, and forget everything for a while.

Maybe I'll write my last will while I'm here, or-

My body suddenly jerks up with a jolt, slamming my head against the cot above me painfully. Wincing and rubbing my head, I reached for my most prized possession; My Letter! Pulling it out of my jumpsuit pocket, I found the unfinished letter I made for Sunshine. 

98 days. 98 days later, and I still never finished it.

Odd, wasn't it? It wasn't as if I had never forgotten, it was just that I never felt like there was an appropriate time to properly convey the sensations that I wanted to articulate to her when the time was right. Throughout the training, I never had the chance to do it in a meaningful way. Every time I tried to form the words properly, they never came up in a way that rang true to what I was thinking.

And now here it was, almost taunting me with its sole two words staring back at me.

"Dear Sunshine," I read aloud. It was the only thing I’ve written in the letter so far.

I frowned and reached for my pen that I kept from training camp. 

I don't care how long it would have to take, I was intent on finishing this letter





As I finished up the letter, I let out a sigh of relief. Hours had passed since I laid down on the cot, and some of my legs had fell asleep to the inaction. 

Now, there had to be some way I could get this message to Sunshine. I don’t think it’s possible for me to abandon the ship to go on a quick mail run, however. Quickly milling my options, I realized that I didn't really have any. 

I didn't know the first thing about who to talk to on delivering a letter to someone like that. My contemplative gaze shifted into a frown, staring at the floor as if it had offended me somehow.

“Well well, here you are!” A familiar voice erupted from the Bulkhead door, revealing a very familiar fiery yellow pegasus.

“... Spitfire!? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Are you stationed on the Blueblood for real?”

“Yeah, I... thought that was rather obvious on my graduation.”

“I actually wasn't there during Graduation, I was here all day with my squadron." She glanced me up and down, and gives me a smirk. "Well then, it looks like we won't be so far apart after all.”

“What do you mean? Are you on the blueblood as well?”

“Not me, no. But I am stationed on the Pegasopolis. You do know there are two aircraft carriers in this task force, right?”

“Oh! Uh... well, I don't even know what a task force is, so no... You’re on the Pegasopolis?”

“Not just me. The Whole Wonderbolt Squadron is assigned to that carrier. It’s just been confirmed since last week. Now my whole crew is there... except for a few, like Soarin. I'm gonna miss that bastard.”

“Huh... Small world, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would be here on the Blueblood - The Pride of the fleet. I must say, I'm a tad jealous.”

... I made her jealous? 

I made the captain of the wonderbolts jealous because I am on a different boat than her? 

I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

She must've caught my surprised expression as her features soon soured. “Don’t let it go to your head. I am glad to be with my team, as there is no other pony that I would rather fly with than my Wonderbolts. I just wish Rainbow could be here to see that... By the way, how did rainbow treat you while I was gone?”

“Like carrion on the side of the road,” I answered with a pout.

“Heh, oddly specific. But, she does have a soft side, you know, it's just… hard to see it most of the time.”

"You mean ever?"

She snickered at that.

“I mean... I’m not holding grudges, she was just rough on me. I'm fine. She did what she had to do.”

“Yep. And soon, you’ll do what you have to do. Did rainbow give you that whole ‘Guardian of the Sky’ prep-speech?”

“Eh… yes. How did you-”

“A couple of Cadets I bumped into on this boat were quite fond of her. Talking about her quite a lot... Poor colts. anyways, it kinda reminds me of that filly she looked after way back when - Scootaloo, I think her name is. Nice kid." 

The name Scootaloo was unfamiliar to me. Dash and Spitfire must've had a unique history together.

"Anyway, I heard your name somewhere when they were talking, so I tried to find you. And here you are.”

“Why me?” I asked.

“Well, truth be told, I want to help you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Help me? Why would the captain of the Wonderbolts waste her time to help a cadet like me?”

“Because you are not just a cadet."

"Because I see something in you. I see a force to be reckoned with. When you were doing test flights from Los Pegasus, I saw a form of grace and precision that I only see in the wonderbolts. Seeing you, however, I realized something. Not all pegasi who are excellent flyers are Wonderbolts. Sometimes I forget that. But I want you to be a part of our wing.”

I was startled. “Y-you mean… joining the wonderbolts?”

“Whoa, slow down, one step at a time. I meant that you can be a… Wingpony, for us. Fly with us during sorties and all of that. You’ll still stay here with your assigned squadron on the blueblood. But during your missions, you’ll fly with us. What do you say?”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“All you need to say is ‘yes’ or ‘no’. There is no in-between. I need an answer.”

I contemplated long and hard. Before looking up at her, with a determined gaze, determined to not fail. 

“Ok. I’ll do it.”

“Cool. I look forward to seeing you in the air then.” She turned away to walk out of the room but stopped when her front hooves were outside. “By the way, have you thought of a name for yourself?”

I raised a brow. “A name? I already have one.”

No, I mean your… How do I put this?" She tapped a hoof to her chin. "... Like, your nickname. Your ‘Ace’ name, I like to call it."

Now I was more confused. "... Why would I need an ace name? I haven't even been on a mission yet."

"I don't care if you've never flown an aircraft in your life. I just would like to know in case you survive long enough to have one."

In case.

The words echoed in my head as a plethora of questions bounced around in my head. I struggled to find the words to convey my confusion, and to properly explain why I didn't care.

"I, uh..." was what I got out of my mouth.

"Okay listen," Spitfire interrupted, leaving me dazed and silent, "I know there are some ponies out there that see this war as more guts than glory, And I get that. But sometimes, with a hero in the sky to rally behind, the ponies can be hopeful. And Rainbow did say to never lose hope, right?”

What is it with these famous Pegasi and their spiels about grandiosity and hope? “R-Right, but I am by no means an Ace.”

“You kidding? I saw the way you flew, you were a natural! The way you performed those maneuvers, and your techniques-”

“Again; and Spitfire - I cannot emphasize this enough: I haven't flown on a mission yet!"

There wasn't a word exchanged between us for a little while as both parties stared at each other. Spitfire sighed through her nostrils with her eyes closed.

“You don’t need to be a killer to be an Ace, Night Light." 

I didn't respond. I was still like a statue as Spitfire continued.

"You wanna know what I saw in you up there, Night Light? Here's what I saw: I saw grace while under pressure. I saw untapped potential in your skill. I saw a drive to be better; A commitment to be stronger; A determined spirit to succeed. You keep saying that you don't have what it takes and that you are not who I say you are, and that you are just one regular Pegasus - is that right?"

It took me a second to wrap my head around her words, but I nodded along.

"Every legend, every hero, every great figure has a humble beginning. No creature in the world is born like they are, they were molded to be that way. And within you, I see somepony with the mark for greatness Night Light. And I don't say this lightly. Why do you think I came all this way to talk to you?"

"I... don't know."

"It's because I know there is something driving you. Something that forces you to keep going even if you cannot keep going anymore. I know there is something in you that is the fuel to your motivation."

... Sunshine.

Memories of Sunshine Tempest and our time together instantly flooded my brain. I felt my heart sink for a split second.

And then I looked up, with tears threatening my composure, glancing at Spitfire's eyes.

They were hard-pressed and firm, but also endearing; like a tough coach cheering you on by shouting orders at what to do. 

Without a second thought, I spoke, "Sunshine Tempest."

Her eyes widened just a tad, her brow raised up she asks, "Who?"

"My Marefriend," I spoke nationally, "She's the reason why I am still going."

Instantaneously, Spitfire's face beams with pride and joy. "See! That's exactly what I am talking about right there! You showed me that you have courage! You've shown me that you have Passion! You have a reason to fight! Don't you understand? You are more than just the sum of your parts. You are the Alpha that is hidden inside of you! A Mare who has everything to gain! That is the greatest motivator that anypony could ask for!

"Never lose it! Never lose that conviction and that drive to keep you going! And I promise that you will go far!"

She panted lightly as she finished. I was somewhat at a lost for words.

Was she right? I don't know. Perhaps. I still felt that same fear. And nothing different changed upon hearing it, except...

Except I now realize that there is more than just one pony that is now counting on me. Not only Spitfire but everypony else above and below the earth.

I had to try. For them, if not for Spitfire; If not for Sunshine.

"Okay. I will try." I replied softly.

"Okay. Okay! That's what I want to hear." She sighs, almost in relief it sounded like. "And I promise I will be there for you when you need help up there. You got my back, I got yours. Alright?"

"Yeah, I can do that," I answered honestly. I would at least try.

She turned to leave the room with a smile. I was about to let her go before a thought crosses my mind. “Wait, Spitfire,” I called out. She stopped and turned to face me. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

I grabbed the letter for Sunshine, and folded it neatly, handing it to Spitfire. “I want you to... I don't know, the nearest Postal Office or something. Tell them it’s for Sunshine Tempest. Please?”

She squints her eyes at the font of the letter as I handed it to her. "Uh, you know there are ponies who can do this for you on the ship, right?"

"And how long do you think they will take to get this done?" I asked bitterly. "I know it would be at least weeks before she receives my letter. I cannot wait that long. You are famous though, they might make the process go by faster for you."

“Do I look like a courier to you?” 

“No," I answered honestly. "But I need you to do this. Please. I promise you I will not let you down. Just do this for me just this once. Please. It’s…" I stopped. "I don't know if I am ever going to see her again. At the very least I want her to know as soon as possible that I am okay.

Spitfire's face tenses up as she gazes at the neatly folded letter. A sigh escapes her lips. “Normally I don’t do mail pony duty, but… just this once for you, I can make an exception.”

“Thank you, really! I-it means a lot to me.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. I look forward to seeing you in the air, Night Light." she smiled. "Have a good night.” 

And with that, she left, leaving me alone in the blank, grey room once more.
> (A1) - Chapter 4: Baptised by Fire [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 1, Chapter 4: Baptised by Fire



“Weep not poor children, for life is this way. Murdering beauty and passion.”







Sunshine Tempest


“I knew at a later time that you were reading my letters. When Spitfire came back, she told me that you will get the message. But, I never heard anything from you, so I didn’t know if she was lying or telling the truth.” Night Light concluded. 

“I’m sorry. I never got the chance to write back immediately, and I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry like that.” I firmly planted a kiss on her cheek to prove it. She still looked troubled, so I put my hoof under her chin. “... You’re not upset, are you?” I asked.

“Not anymore... but, I was convinced for a while that you were dead. And that was why you never wrote back.” Night Light gazed at the horizon, the sun now set and the moon gleaming its pale light on both of us. It was getting late.

“I was constantly being threatened with a Changeling attack. There was always one thing or another going on where I was. And it was a cold and cruel place, I remember.”

“Can you explain how, specifically?” Night Light asked. "If you don't want to, I understand-"

“No, it's fine. I put you up to this anyway, so I might as well indulge." I cleared my throat. "I meant that in the most literal sense when I said it was a cold place. When I was first deployed, I was assigned to a Pegasi Land Division: ‘Cloudsdale’ was our name. We were to be deployed in the Ruby Mountains…”





I was sitting in the back seat of a Jackalope transport truck, on our way to the frontline. My training was finally finished about a week ago, but I was deployed in Whinnyapolis, so it took some time to actually get to the frontline. We’ve been in this same truck, cramped together for days now. I and about ten to twenty other ponies were sitting together in this truck, each of us clearly anxious. The driver signaled earlier today before we departed that we should be there by mid-afternoon.

It’s been a few hours since then, and all the while, we heard a familiar buzzing noise from overhead. Large amounts of aircraft, moving towards and away from the front, were constantly buzzing overhead. The ponies shifted in their bench seats, clearly nervous about their new fate. Some even looked downright terrified, Hyperventilating as the aircraft continued to fly overhead. I closed my eyes, leaving me to my thoughts to pass the time. I kept thinking all of these questions: Where are we going? Who else will be there? How many will be there? What will happen afterward? Some of these questions I already knew the answer to. My mane was suddenly tingling, and standing on end. I couldn’t help but feel - not think, but feel - that something bad was about to happen.

The truck’s loud engine was all of the sudden muffled by a larger sound from a distance. We couldn’t see anything; a Tarp had covered the back seat benches of the Jackalope, preventing us from seeing anything outside, except to our rear. But we heard a large explosion coming from the front of a truck. Actually, we heard multiple explosions. Each of them got louder as the truck continued its course. We were very close now.

I could feel some of the ponies shivering and shaking next to me. I was shaking myself, but not because of how afraid and anxious I was.

But because of how fucking cold it was.

When we were in ponyville stopping for a moment of rest, everything was temperate and warm. That was just 2 days ago. Now, we can see our breaths and we were all shivering in this cramped truck.

“Why is it so fucking cold all of a sudden?” I barely heard one of the ponies asked over the constant rumbling of the engine.

“Because we’re close. The frontline is not far now.” I heard another pony answer. I saw a tiny white flake drift in front of my vision, disappearing just as fast before I got a good look at it.

Winter. It was either artificially placed by Pegasi, or it had arrived a little earlier this year. Either way, it did not bode well. 

Another half-hour passed. The sounds we heard at a distance were getting even louder now. No more planes were buzzing overhead. There were just sounds of distant explosions ahead.

Then the truck stopped.

The ponies in the seats were staring at each other, all of them wondering why we stopped, especially in such cold weather. Did the truck bog down? Did we run out of fuel? Was the driver dead? To our rear, we could see other Jackalopes closing in behind us, each of them carrying more troops. When they got close, they stopped as well.

“Alright, Everypony out!” the driver yelled over the idle engine, which was pale in comparison to how loud the gunfire and explosions were now. They were unbelievably close. We must be near the frontline. One by one, the ponies stood up to their hooves, ducking their head in this claustrophobic space of the truck, hopping out through the back. I followed behind, walking ever so slowly to the back and hopping out.

And then I saw what the noise was.

We were standing beneath a very high mountain. I saw multiple white flakes drift down to the ground, my breath clearly visible in the air. At the base of the mountain, I saw a line of artillery guns continuously firing away to the west. Further down along the mountain, I saw flashes of light and tracers flying back and forth of each other.

We were at the frontline.

I looked ahead of the truck to what made it stop. I saw a road, leading higher and higher toward the peak of the mountain. There was also a checkpoint that was blocking our path. An equestrian roadblock, no doubt.

“Ponies! AttenSHUN!” A stallion barked, making me spastically trot my way to a makeshift line that other ponies have formed, wearing the same uniforms as I was. Another pony, this one clearly different from the others, trotted into view, walking back and fro in front of us, inspecting us. He was wearing a specially made uniform, with multiple medallions and ribbons on his chest. He had to be an officer of some kind.

“Everypony, your humble abode: Welcome to The Ruby Mountains!” Instinctively, everybody looked up towards the mountain peak, admiring its height and might. "My name is Lieutenant Baker, I am your Battalion Officer. Here are your orders as instructed by the Division Commander!"

He pulls out a slip of paper and reads it aloud in a bellowed voice for all to hear.

“You’re now assigned to the 3rd Equestrian Army, just south of the Shire River, and in this mountain. I hope you like snow because you’ll be seeing a lot of it. Your division is stationed at the top of that mountain, and yes, you heard me right: Atop the mountain.” 

The ponies eyed each other nervously. Clearly, being atop a giant mountain was not what they had in mind when they were on their way to the frontline. “You are a part of the ‘Cloudsdale’ Pegasus Division. And your battalion's callsign is ‘Apples.’ Corporal Smiley will be your CO.”

The corporal in question didn’t reply. He stood still, facing forward as the officer continued to talk. 

“From now on, everypony in this truck you are in his squad. And from now on, you will refer to him as your Commanding Officer. Do you Understand?" 

“Yes, Ma'am!” each of the foot soldiers yelled simultaneously.

“Alright then - we’ll be taking the trucks and driving our way up the mountain road until we get to the command bunker atop. There will be trenches and bunkers facing to the west, Occupy them as soon as you disembark. Understand?” Baker asked again.

“Yes, Ma'am!” we replied. With that, turned and walked toward the driver. “When I give the say so, get to the top, and drive easy. Winter has arrived, and it’s slippery up there.”

“Got it.” the driver answered back cooly.

“Alright, everyone on, clear the roadblock!” Baker yelled, waving his hoof around and signaling us to get a move on. We each broke from the line and embarked the cramped Jackalope once more. It was easier for me, I just had to hover up and sit down in one of the benches. For the others though, some who weren’t pegasi were struggling to get on. Eventually, though, everyone was on board, and the engine roared to life once more.





The road trip lasted for about 40 minutes, each minute passing by getting more and more colder than the last. Yet, it was also, metaphorically, hotter at the same time. The rapid gunfire became more frequent and louder. The artillery pounds away its targets as the battle continues. We were all a nervous wreck, huddling close to each other for warmth. Some were shivering very intensely, their uniforms looking ill-fitted for winter. Mine was more snug and warm. It covered my entire body, even my rear hooves and my flank, blocking my cutie mark. At the ends of my hooves, there were black rubber caps encasing the hoof entirely, keeping the snow and cold air out. The only part of my body exposed was my face, neck, and wings.

Some ponies weren’t so lucky with their uniforms. Some were just wearing a standard ‘front hooves’ uniform. Thy only covered the torso, and the front pair of hooves, leaving their flanks and lower torso exposed to the chilling weather.

When we arrived at the top, we came to a halt when we were inside some sort of heavily fortified command outpost. We each disembarked again, and I managed to get a good look around me. There were Artillery batteries about 30 meters away from where I was standing, and a group of ponies on each gun operating them, yelling coordinates and statistics to each other.

"Girdref 175! High Explosive!" A pony barked, as the crew got to work loading the battery. I trotted along with the others as they moved closer towards the center of the complex when three of the Artillery Gun's barrels elevated upward. "Distance to target is set to 2500. Salvo of three shells is requested!"

"Loaded!"	

"FIRE!" Another pony bellowed, as the three guns one-by-one unload their ordnance with rapid succession. 

I felt the shockwave of the blast encompassing me, the sound almost deafening my ears. It actually felt painful to listen. I knew I was gonna have to stay away from the guns if I didn't want to go deaf.

“Everypony, inside. Let’s get out of this cold.” Baker ordered, to which we gladly complied. Upon entering the building (which was a 2 story bunker with a radio antenna) we were greeted a sight of a very large table, with the whole map of Equestria. The table had a steel outline, with bolts fixed into it. The table was bolted into the ground.

The map In question had a very detailed look of the front lines. So many different markers, tabletop plastic pieces of ponies and Changelings with tiny white tokens under each of these plastic pieces. There was a hoof-drawn line stretching from the northern mountains of the Crystal Empire, stretching all the way across the Shire River that divided rural and urban Equestria into two. The Changelings had advanced across almost the entire western half of Equestria with staggering speed. 

There was a mountain range that stretched horizontally from the western edge of Equestria near Vanhoover, going all the way to the east just a few hundred kilometers short of Fillydelphia. About a fourth of this colossal mountain range was already conquered, the line separating the ponies and Changelings splitting the Ruby Mountains in half.

“Right, gather ‘round,” Baker spoke, each of us slowly forming a circle around the map. Soon, Baker made space intent for one more pony.

But it wasn’t, in fact, a pony. It was a griffon.

“Ponies, this is Scnd. Lieutenant Razor Claw. He is the CO of your division. He will be relaying our battle plan to your lot, so listen carefully.” With that, Baker gestured a hoof towards Razor, who turned his eyes toward the map.

“Right, ponies, we are here. At objective ‘Alicorn’. That is the mountain peak that we have currently sunk our teeth into. Objective ‘Buck’ and ‘Crystal’ are a different story.” Razor pointed a claw at 2 mountains. "Objective Buck is currently contested by changeling forces. The whole mountain range is heavily fortified, both on our side and on the Bug’s, so an attack on either side will be costly. And Objective Crystal belongs to the changelings entirely. So basically; we have A, they have C, and there is a tug of war going on at B right now."

The griffon pointed another claw (or finger) at a small valley at the bottom of the 2 contested mountains. “This small valley has been scouted, and reports say that there are no changeling fortifications or FOBs down there at all. We have an opportunity to flank behind Buck and pinch the fortifications on that mountain from both sides. If the operation goes well, Buck will be ours, giving us a lot more breathing room.

“Currently, Operation Ursa has not commenced yet. Once we regained control of the mountain, the rest of the offensive will begin to the south, and we will gain access to a strategic Railway hub to help ferry supplies up to us. Not only that, but we will be able to secure valuable crystal mines that litter this range. We take that back, we deprive them of a strategic resource.”

The ponies around me didn’t say anything, they all studied the map, looking at everything they can look at.

“The operation will commence in 2 months. Plenty of time to get used to the never-ending snow. Barracks are on the northern side of the base. You are ordered to stay at this position and defend it. No offensive movement will commence until 2 months. Understand?” the griffon sharply asked.

“We got it, Razor. I’ll keep them in check.” Baker replied.

“Alright, you’re dismissed.”





"Nothing really happened for a while after that," I explained to Night Light, "I remember spending most of my time getting acclimated to the elements and having to find a way to stay warm most of the time. There was the occasional firefight here and there, but nothing interesting really happened as I said."

"I wish I could say the same... What was life like out there?" Night Light questions

"Boring. Very boring. But sometimes, an interesting thing can happen."





A couple of days have passed since I arrived. I was sitting alone in a dug-out foxhole, my eyes glued to the west. I was given Sentry duty and was instructed to 'shoot any bug that moves'. No changeling was to get past my position, and I am not to move from my spot until someone switches me out. 

I was leaning over the Machine Gun with my hooves and was glazing my eyes around me, admiring the scenery. I saw the overcast sky, not too far above us considering how high up we are, as snow silently falls down. A gale howl was blowing across the mountainside, sending shivers all along my body.

Snowy footsteps were heard behind me. I turned my head, fast enough to hurt my neck, only to find a Unicorn levitating a tiny metal box trotting towards me.

“Courtesy from Chef Lavender. Some Hay with veggies.” She levitated the small box towards me, allowing me to grab it in mid-air.

“Thanks, Raisin.” was all I replied. I opened it and looked at the contents inside. There wasn’t much. Just like she said, hay with veggies. “Not a lot of variety to it, huh?”

“It’s filling.” She sat next to me, pulling out her own metal lunchbox from her satchel. “Definitely better than eating snow. Or nothing at all. Too bad its cold.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I munched on a small pile of hay. Bland and tasteless, but it was still food. She was right on that note at least, it is better than nothing. At least the veggies were healthy.

“You see anything yet?”

“No. Nothing but snow and ice.” The machine gun that was in the foxhole was already loaded and ready to shoot. All we needed now were some changelings to shoot at.

“Fucking tits, it’s cold.” The unicorn mare muttered.

“It’s not too bad. Not for me at least.”

“That’s because you’re a pegasus. Lucky you.”

“Well, you don’t need to be a pegasus to be warm. A fire or good clothing can do that.”

“Oh yeah, brilliant idea. Where am I going to get some firewood?" She extended both her forehooves out to emphasize the endless amount of snow around us. And also the lack of trees. "And this uniform is shit anyways. I wish those replacements would get here sooner, like what you have. I heard they were crafted by Rarity herself.”

“Rarity? The element of Generosity?” I asked in bafflement.

“Yeah. Rumor has it that she is making all of the uniforms now. Created them, perfected them, then mass-produced them. That’s the magic of industry for you.”

My ears flicked. Loud noises were suddenly emitted from the outpost behind us. I turned to look and saw ponies scrambling around, barking orders at one another. It seemed like they were preparing for something.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“There’s a special guest arriving soon.” She idly remarks, focusing on her food.

“Who?”

“The Field Marshal; commander of all the generals supposedly. She's coming to check on how things are holding up.”

I silently continued to watch the chaos back at the base. Everyone was yelling orders, and moving things around. After a while, I begin to notice a shape in the east, flying from the sky.

“Wow. She really did come all the way from Canterlot.” Raisins exclaimed.

“Canterlot?” Now I was curious. Who could possibly be coming from Canterlot, of all places?

The shape was getting closer, and eventually, I could make out what it was. A Skywagon, pulled by four Thestral pegasi. The Skywagon was beautifully decorated, painted in a deep azure and violet blend with Golden stars and a pale white Crescent moon.

The Skywagon slowed down as it approached the base. It flew gracefully amidst the cold winter wind, and when it was directly over the base, it stopped and hovered in place. And slowly, it began to descend down. 

I got a closer look at the ponies pulling the skywagon. They were definitely Batponies: their black scaly wings and slitted pupils were visible in broad daylight.

The Skywagon touched down, and for a split second, there seemed to be total silence. Until the side doors of the Skywagon ceremoniously split open, revealing a midnight-hued Alicorn.

“Princess Luna!?” I stared at her with my mouth hung wide open.

“Mhm. That’s the Field Marshal.” That was all Raisins said. Unphased by the ordeal.

Shortly after, Second Lieutenant Razor Claw walked out of the command bunker and skimmed at Princess Luna with a small hint of surprise etched on his face. He gave her a formal bow, which Luna returned gracefully. They began to talk, though I could barely hear what they say. 

Both Razorclaw and Luna eventually trotted inside the command bunker, disappearing from sight.

“You didn’t know Luna was a Warrior Princess?” Raisins Asked. "'A good leader will guide their Soldiers during a conflict. A great leader guides their soldiers on the front.' She is especially sentiment towards that mindset.”

“She was the field marshal this whole time?”

“Not the whole time. She replaced Blueblood originally. He was there at Acornage, Vanhoover, Tall Tales, and at Galloping Gorge. She was there at everything else after that.”

A knot of sadness gripped my heart.

I turned around back to the West and gripped the Machine gun once more, watching the western horizon for anything else that intended on visiting this outpost.





"You saw Princess Luna?!" Night Light asked in amazement.

"Only very briefly, but yes. I saw her with my own eyes."

"I never had the chance! What was she like? Did her mane really flow like they said it did?" She bombarded me with question after question, suddenly very interested in the conversation.

A small chuckle escaped as I tried to answer each of them. "Well, she was... Graceful; Intelligent; Diligent; And not to mention Beautiful." I paused, and I saw Night Light waiting with anticipation. "And yes, her Mane did flow as they said-"

"I KNEW IT!" she shouts. "HAH! I knew those haters in flight camp were just jealous of her Mane!" 

She suddenly stops herself, her cheeks burning red. "Uh..." she flusters.

I giggled again, pulling her in for a premature embrace from behind. "You're cute when you do that, have I told you that?"

Though I couldn't see it from my position, I could definitely feel her pouting scowl. "... Only when I want to."

I smiled at that response. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"A lot, yes, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again every now and then." 

I could feel her smile, too. It was infectious.

"Well, in that case, I love you again... How's that?"

"Hm... Better." she coyly answers, stroking my hooves wrapped around her gently.

"Hey, Sunshine?"

"Hm?"

"... When did you get my letter? Was it after you deployed?"

"... Yeah, that's right; I was in the Ruby Mountains still. Did you get mine afterward?"

"Mhmn. I did..."

There was a pause, both in our movements and in the idle sounds I heard in my peripheral hearing. For an infinitesimal moment, everything was frozen still.

"... But that was the last one... You never replied after that." Night Light continued.

"... I know."

"For seven years... Seven years, Sunshine. I... thought I lost you." she chokes up. I stroked her mane with a free hoof as I kissed it.

"I'm sorry." I pathetically replied... I knew it wasn't enough.

But her words still caught me off guard.

"... Why? How come I've never heard from you again?"

My hooves stopped stroking.

In an instant, my throat suddenly seized up and my heart began to throb painfully in my chest.

"... Sunshine?"

... It wasn't ever enough, I know it. And I know she deserves to know...

... And yet.

"... Your heart's beating fast." Night Light mentions. "Are you okay?"

It took me a little while of calming down. 

Deep breath in; Deep breath out.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, promise."

Night Light didn't indulge any further. And she didn't press me about the letter any further too.

I wasn't grateful for it, though. I only felt shame.

"... I almost didn't get your letter." I suddenly quipped aloud.

I wasn't intending to say it. It just sort of... slipped out of me. And I could sense Night Light was also caught off guard.

"What do you mean?" Night Light inquires.

... Crap. Now I have to explain it.

I contemplated. Did she deserve to know? Or was this one of those memories that were just better left unsaid? I couldn't articulate. But I knew I couldn't hide it either. 

"... I almost died on the day I got your letter."

A small, almost inaudible gasp was heard from Night Light as silence overtook the room again. We could hear the wind outside as dusk had fallen across Equestria.

Night Light didn't say anything else. She seemed afraid to ask. 

And... for whatever reason I cannot explain, I felt the need to confess. I wanted to get this off my chest.

"I was out on patrol on that night."





Darkness had arrived quicker than usual. I watched the moon rise while in my foxhole. Eventually, after a few hours of sitting in freezing cold, I was switched out by another pony and was ordered to participate in a patrol of the perimeter. 

The squad of nine ponies, myself included, was assigned to scout the northern slope just outside the wire. There should’ve been no changelings or ponies out there at all - apart from us - so it was considered to be routine. Not only would you be wandering around in the dark, but you would also freeze to death out here if not careful, so nopony considered the possibility of attack from either side.

My squad departed from the base with Corporal Smiley. We haven’t encountered anything yet. Distant gunfire could still be heard from miles away, towards the bottom of the mountain. That was about forty minutes ago, and we nearly reached our last checkpoint. Still found nothing.

“We’re almost done here. Keep your heads on a swivel, I don’t want to stay out here for long.” Smiley ordered. We continued to tread through the deep snow of the mountain. Some pegasi, like me, were using their wings to hover over the snow, using their hooves to hold onto their weapons. I was shivering, both in anticipation and in the cold. 5 more minutes have passed, and we passed our final checkpoint. 

No enemy contacts whatsoever.

“Raisin, get over here. I need a radio.” Smiley barked.

“On it.” Raisin complied. She carried a huge metal box with a long antenna on top, trudging her way to Smiley. As she was close, the latter grabbed the telephone off of the side and spoke into it.

“Station, this is Dog 2-1, Patrol complete. We’re heading back to base, over.” There was a pause. And for a moment, Smiley must’ve thought the line was still dead, as he tried to place the phone back on the box, and grab it again. But before he could, there was a hiss, then a tinny voice that sounded like he was talking through a large tunnel.

“Roger that Dog 2-1, keep your eyes peeled on the way back, out.” There was a squelching sound, and the line went dead.

“Alright, form an echelon, stay spread out,” Smiley ordered. The 9 of us began to shift formation and formed a diagonal line as we moved up the mountain slope once more.

Trudging uphill was a lot harder than going downhill, and the slow pace was obvious of that fact. Despite the fact we were done, it did little to ease my nerves going upward. I clung to my rifle a little tighter as it slung against my torso.

“It’s cold.” one of the unicorns in front of me muttered. “I fucking hate it.”

“Cut the chit-chat.” Smiley muttered.

Raisins trudged closer to Smiley. “Sir, may we-” 

SNAP!

A loud, sharp sound wheezed by our heads. 

And instantly, The unicorn in front of me jerked to the left, and she fell with a pain-addled cry.

Somepony screamed, “HOLY FUCK!” 

“CONTACT!” 

More sharp snaps flew just inches over my head. all of us threw our bodies down to the icy ground and got low. Instantly, my body went numb to the adrenaline and the cold, my chest throbbing like it was going to explode as I ducked to the ground.

I clutched onto my helmet and dared to look up towards where they were coming from, finding green and white tracers flying above my head by just inches. Muzzle flashes down the mountain slope a few hundred meters out were seen as more bullets landed on the ground next to us.

“Throw smoke, throw smoke and shoot back! Raisins, get the fuck up here!” Smiley practically screamed. Soon after, a roar of gunfire from our side began to erupt, firing at where the enemy’s shots were coming from.

“Where are they?!” a mare screamed.

“North! Shoot fucking North!” a stallion yelled back in response.

Shaking, I began to crawl my way behind my squad. Using the snow around me, I formed a little mound with a resting place for my rifle. I readied the rifle, and took aim toward the west, facing a downward slope. I saw flashes of light at the bottom of the slope.

I pulled the trigger. A sharp ‘Crack’ emitted from the barrel, and a tracer traveled down the mountain extremely fast. I pulled the bolt and aimed again. 

I aimed where I saw one of the flashes emit, and pulled the trigger. 

The tracer disappeared before it reached the bottom, and I saw a shape slump to the ground.

“Station, this is Dog 2-1, we are under fire! I want a fire mission some one hundred meters north of our spot!"

I shot again at another figure, who ducked his head down at the last second. 

At this point the cacophony of gunfire was damaging my hearing, and the ringing was getting hard to ignore.

"Grid 789-905. Break!” Smiley paused again. More gunfire was erupting from the Changelings. I glanced over to my left to find Smiley huddled behind Raisins clutching onto a telephone on, while the latter continued to fire back. 

“We need a suppressive barrage due to one hundred meters to our North, Over!” Smiley Yelled over the sound of combat. 

A Tracer landed in the snow in front of me, just barely missing me. 

I ducked my head instantly and crawled backward while in a panic. 

Indistinct radio chatter was coming from Raisin’s Radio, followed by Smiley's voice. “Alright hold here for 1 minute! Dig in and hold them off!” Smiley yelled at the top of his lungs

“That’s gonna be a long-ass fucking minute!” I heard Raisins yell.

“Stay low, spread out! Watch for grenades!” Smiley bellows. I crawled as fast as I was capable away from my previous spot. Finding some piled snow, I packed some of it in front of me and fixed my weapon upon it once more. My breathing was rapid and harsh. My heart was pounding away like a woodpecker against a tree as I continued to fire.

“Fuck, Salsa is dead!”

“Where’s the Medic!?”

Left and right, Ponies were screaming, panicking, shouting, firing, or hiding for their life. I kept firing.

“Rose, your hit!”

“I’m fine!”

“Gun down, reloading!”

"Fucking fuck, this is insane!"

“We lost another one!”

All of a sudden a sharp hiss and pop were emitted from Rasin’s Radio. More tinny voices chattered about.

“I said throw smoke!” Smiley screamed

“Salsa had them! She's dead!”

“Well, somepony go get them!”

“I’ll go!” I instinctively yelled and began to crawl away from my mound. I was out of ammo anyway, and I didn't have time to reload. “Where is she?!”

“Behind us!” Raisins answered in a bellow. 

My skin was starting to lose its sense of touch from the numbness beneath my supple coat, which only worsened the shakes I obtained from the skirmish. Crawling very rapidly, trudging my way through the stiff snow, my breathing was growing haggard.

I soon came across the corpse of the mare slumped on the ground. Pulling her body towards me, I looked around her for anything useful and found nothing but her rifle. 

The gunfire was becoming very rapid behind me. Machine gun fire from the changelings wheezed overhead, green tracers slamming into the earth ahead of me.

I crawled over to her dead corpse, using her as cover as I instinctively looked into her eyes.

I wish I didn’t.

It was devoid of any life. Her eyes were slumped to her skull, ever so still. Blood seeped through a red hole in her left temple and pooled onto the snow below. I couldn’t help but tear up.

“Sorry.” I whispered as I began to pat down the body, tears obstructing my vision. I dragged a wing over my eyes to wipe tears and began to search her body. I soon felt some cylinder-shaped objects in her pouch.

Part of me felt awful for looting a dead pony. The other, rational part of my brain told me that now wasn't the time to get emotional.

I opened it, and it revealed two No. 77 Smoke grenades. I grabbed hold of both of them in my hooves, twisted the trigger on top, and chucked them over the ridge with all my power. 

As it hit the ground, smoke was already billowing out of it. I threw the second one, and it had the same effect. 

A few seconds later, they could not see us. Tracers were still whizzing through the smoke, as the enemy continued blindly firing at us.

“Ok, Everypony, on me! Let's go!” Smiley ordered. Soon afterward, ponies began to fall back towards the mountain peak and climbed up the mountain face with as much fury as they could muster. Some Earth Ponies were literally digging burrows into the slope as they retreated. 

Onward towards the base, just as our squad was frantically pacing backward, an eerie whistle came overhead. 

As we ducked to the ground, large explosions vibrated the slope where the changelings were. Bright flashes of orange light illuminated the dark side of the mountain's face. The gunfire came to a halt almost immediately afterward.

Soon, the ponies were no longer frantically sprinting. They were now galloping at a steady pace. 

The fight was clearly over.





“How many did we lose?”

“About three, sir.”

Everypony was panting and shaking by the time we got back to base. When we got back, I fell down in the snow, exhausted and freezing from the climb and the ordeal that we just suffered through.

“That was fucked! It was supposed to be a patrol! Why did they attack at night? That’s suicidal!” A stallion yelled

“Fucking changelings.” Somepony groaned. “I hate ‘em.”

“Okay, okay. We’re done.” Smiley dismissed. "Get some rest. Your patrol is done.  I’ll relay the report to Razorclaw.”

With that, we all wearily got up and proceeded to trot toward the Barracks. I sighed heavily, the adrenaline still rushing through me. 

I took many deep breaths as I entered inside and slowly made my way to my bunk. I collapsed on it, and immediately, exhaustion waved over me, and sleep took hold of me quickly.





I only had a couple of hours. 

I woke up to a pony shoving my shoulder, stirring me from a dreamless sleep to a cold reality that was still nighttime. 

"What?" I grumpily asked.

“You got a letter.” A Mail Pegasus handed me an envelope. 

I stirred in my bunk with a sudden jolt in my heart and sat up, eyeing the pegasus with confusion. I took the envelope, and she began to walk out. Inspecting it, looking for a name or Initial, I found two Italic Letters

N L

My heart jumped. The calligraphy was very familiar.

I quickly tore open the envelope, careful not to damage whatever was inside. I pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and read.



"Dear Sunshine,"

“I hope things have been better off for you than I. The last 90 days of training I went through were hellish and tiresome. I’m still sore from all of the exercises. Though, I assume that my troubles must be childlike compared to yours. As for the frontlines, I hope things are alright wherever you are.

	“But I am finally finished with my training. As of right now, I am stationed on the ERNS Blueblood, the so called ‘Pride of the Fleet’. The ship itself is impressively constructed, if not a bit dull on the decor. Though, I suppose decorations are the least of their concerns. Performance and cost are all they seem to care about. But this is my first day on the ship, as I am writing this, so I’ll have to get used to it.

	“The other crewmates aren’t as I thought they would be. Some are… alright, I guess, though I haven’t taken the time to get to know them so it’s too early to say really. Some are a little rough around the edges, but they're not all bad.

	“I made a couple of friends before I got to the Blueblood. Lucky, as I mentioned, is one of them. He’s a very kind-hearted pony. Also pretty sarcastic in humor. Then there’s Naya. Quite an odd pony. A foreigner in Equestria. I don’t know much about her personally, but she did go on about how great her country, Stalliongrad, is. I don’t know much about it still, but maybe I can ask her later.

	“I hope you are well wherever you are, and whatever you are doing. Did you know that THE Rainbow Dash was my teacher? I thought it was crazy on the first day of training, that I am being taught by Rainbow herself. I even saw Spitfire from the Wonderbolts! I still can't believe I managed to talk to her, even if just for a little bit.

	“I am in Manehattan harbor right now as I am writing this. The blueblood is currently in port. From what I can guess, it’ll be a while before the fleet moves again. I think there are repairs going on on some of the other ships in the fleet.

	“When you get this letter, Please; write back to me as soon as you can. I want to know that you are alright. I love you.

	“Love, Night Light.”



There were some wet splotches on the paper, but they were not due to weather or damage.

I gently put the letter down, carefully so as not to damage or ripple or tear it in anymore.

Making a mental note to write back as fast as I could back to her, I carefully folded it and put it in my vest pocket. 

I would do whatever it takes. I would endeavor to preserve this precious piece of paper with my life.
> (A1) - Finale: Promises To Keep...[Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 1, Finale: Promises To Keep...



“Stay and count the Ghosts with me...”







Sunshine Tempest


Night looked like she was about to cry. A very sorrowful, guilt-ridden expression was smitten across her features. That same guilt morphed its way onto mine as well. I knew then that what was happening shouldn't be happening. There was no right I had for her to relive her past traumas, and for her to live mine.

And yet, here I was, still trying to force her to do just that. What kind of a fool am I? What was even I thinking? For even trying to talk about this in the first place? To find some kind of closure? The shame of my selfish request was palpable.

I scooted closer and embraced her gently. She sniffles into my mane, just above my withers. “I am so sorry you had to through the pain that you did.” She whispered.

“No, don’t be sorry, I am sorry. I’m sorry I tried talking about this in the first place.” I softly apologized.

We just sat together, holding each other in silence, as if for dear life. I looked out towards the western horizon, thanking myself for being able to experience such a moment like this in the first place. 

It was done. The war is over. And Harmony is here once again. It’s almost like nothing happened. I believe that’s what everyone is trying to hope for, at least. Like nothing ever happened over the past seven years. If only it was that simple. I looked to the west, finding the sun well below the horizon. It painted the sky with a mulberry hue.

“It’s late. Maybe we should call it a night. That sounds better, in my opinion.” I suggested.

Night light rubbed her eyes with her wings and sniffled softly. “Yeah, that… that does sound nice.” 

Neither of us had ever let go of the other as we both settled into the sheets and pillows. 

Cradling each other with our warmth, fatigue claimed us quickly. Soon, both of our eyes were heavy and our breathing getting lighter and lighter. It had taken a while as we both continued to bask the each other's embrace, but Night Light's eyes were the first to start to go heavy. Mine soon joined hers as well.

I was about to doze off when Night Light gently spoke up.

"Hey... Sunshine?"

"Mhm?"

"Can you promise me something?"

"... What is it?"

She grazes a tendon across my cheeks.

"Promise me... No matter what happens. No matter where we are. No matter who stands in our way... Promise that you won't give up on us. Please?"

"Yeah, of course."

"... I want to hear you say it. Say that you promise."

I gently cupped a hoof under her cheek. "I promise."

"Promise what?" She whispers, her eyes closing.

"I promise I won't give up on us."

She didn't reply after that. Her breathing was slow and steady. Her eyes drifted shut.

Gently pecking her on the forehead, I whispered softly, "Goodnight," before shutting off the lamp, and drifting off to slumber.





I woke up to the bright sun glaring directly at my eyes in my comfortable cloudy bed, shimmering through the small window slit at the most annoyingly accurate spot possible to where I was. I sat up with a groan and stretched my wings, basking in the comfortable warm feeling tingling down my spine. My frizzy mane fell down across my face.

I suddenly smelled toast.

It didn’t take me long to hover out of bed and make my way downstairs. I was greeted with the sights and sounds of Night Light cooking breakfast in the kitchen. I sat down in one of the dining room chairs, watching her cook.

“Good morning." She greeted without turning around. "You woke up just in time. You looked very peaceful, so I didn’t wanna bother you. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“I can’t remember the last time I had your famous buttered toast." I reminisced as I sat down at the table. "It feels like it’s been forever.”

Night Light giggled. “I figured the war had not been kind on you, at least in the aspect of how tasty your food was. Or rather, how tasteless it was.”

“It was rather bland. But it was filling at least. Hay and Veggies were not bad, nutritionally speaking.”

“Well, I have something even better; Homemade waffles with Buttermilk Syrup, accompanied by Orange slices, Buttered Toast, and some Milk.” 

“Mm, definitely better. I forgot how great your cooking was.”

“Well then, how about I refresh your memory?”

Night hovered in the air and placed a plate of delicious-looking food on the cloud table in front of me. I savored the smell at first, until I couldn't resist any longer and began to eat.

... Perfect.

“This is… really good.” was all I said, as I continued to munch down.

“You think so?”

“Oh yes! This is the best plate of food I’ve ever had in ages. Seriously, thank you Night.” Night blushed furiously, but she was obviously glad I liked it, because she embraced me warmly afterward.

“Oh, I thought you might like it. Didn’t think you would be this ecstatic about it though.”

“You kidding? All I ate regularly during my time out there were Hay, Veggies and an assortment of other bland, tasteless foods. This is, literally, the best plate of food I had in years!” 

Night couldn't help but whinny in glee. It didn’t take her long to get her own plate of the same food, and it only took me about 5 minutes before I was finished with my plate first, leaving me immensely satisfied and full of food. I took on the chore of clearing the plate of scraps myself, as a way of thanking Night for her cooking. As I was continuing to wash my plate, Night trotted next to me, intent to do the same with hers.

“I figured I would have to reward you for your service.” Night smiled.

“My service? Well, I think serving me breakfast is a perfect way to come home from service.” I then caught her “it was a joke” look on her face, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I meant last night, Sunshine.” Night replied. "I... Wanted to thank you. Getting that off my chest... I-it helped a lot. That's all."

"Oh... Well, you're welcome. And I'm sorry for making you so anxious and uncomfortable last night."

She waved it off with a hoof. "Water under the bridge, right?"

"Yeah." I leaned for a quick kiss to wich she kindly returned. "I guess so."

She smiled warmly, nuzzling close to me as I finished my dishes.

"So... I have my day off today, what do you wanna do?" Night Light asks.

"Good question." I pondered aloud. "I think there was an airshow at the cloudiseum today. You wanna go see that?"

"Sounds like a date." she winks. "I'll go check the mail and-"

BOM! BOM! BOM!

Both of our heads turned towards the door.

“Um... Who is that?” I asked as Night Light trotted to answer the door. 

"I don't know... Hold on." she replied. As she was walking there was another series of knocks.

“I’m coming, give me a moment.” Night light called out to the door. She reached a hoof out and opened the door. I trotted near Night to see who it was. 2 Ponies, both of them pegasi stallions, wearing a black tux-like suit and black aviator glasses, were standing at the door.

“Is this the residence of… “ One of the stallions reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper. “Night Light and Sunshine Tempest?”

“Yes, it is.” Night answered.

“Both of you are requested by Equestrian High Command to ride a chariot to Canterlot immediately. There are some ponies who wish to speak to you.” 

Me and Night both gazed at each other, clearly confused by the sudden change of events.

“Uh, say what now?" I replied.

"Both of you are required to come to Canterlot with us."

"Why? Who would want to speak to us?” Night asked next.

“Somepony important. We are not required to answer all of your questions. We highly encourage you to ride the chariot at once.” They spoke in a calm and monotone manner.

“And what if we say no?” I asked. Night looked at me, worry etched on her face.

“That would be unwise. This is all we can tell you. You are required to follow our orders, or you will be forced into Canterlot. One way or another.”

I my brow furrowed at the distrustful individuals, my eyes scanning up and down. I managed to get a good look at one of their cutie marks; A parchment with incoherent writing on it, that was near a closed lock. they twisted their bodies away to hide them after seeing my inspect them.

“I can see why you wouldn’t comply with our orders.” One of the ponies spoke again. It was creepy how identical they sounded. “But if you refuse, we are authorized to place you under arrest to take you to Canterlot. However, we do not wish to perform such methods, and we encourage you to follow our instructions.”

Night Light stepped back and leaned into my ears.

“Maybe we should listen?” she whispered cautiously, "See what they want?"

I was getting massive red flags and tingles in my mane from these ponies. I couldn’t help but grimace. But, Night Light was willing to cooperate, so my disagreeing attitude probably wouldn’t be the best course of action.

“Alright, I’ll play along.” I finally answered. One of the ponies looked at Night, waiting for her answer.

“I’ll come too.”

“Excellent.” One of the ponies blankly spoke. “Please follow us. The chariot is waiting outside.”

We walked outside of our home and found a royal Chariot, clearly from Canterlot, waiting for us parked in front of our house. I was still anxious, but they didn’t seem to be threatening. Just… Creepy.

We embarked on the Chariot, and it instantly began to take off, the pegasi visitors flying close behind us. The chariot turned Eastbound, intent for Canterlot.

“Who are these ponies?” Night whispered.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening.” I unfurled a wing, and draped it over her back, intent on comforting her. 

Something tells me that this was only the beginning of our troubles. 





The ride to Canterlot didn’t last long, less than an hour at least. We arrived at the sight of the beautiful castle city on the mountain face, the tall spire of the princess’s castle clearly visible. The Agent Ponies following behind us maintained their distance between us, as they continued to escort.

When we arrived, we slowly descended downward. I remember myself being in the Ruby Mountains and remembering how gracefully Princess Luna’s Skywagon descended. This chariot was no different, except it looked clearly different. Instead of dark night-themed colors, it had golden engravings on the side of the alabaster railings. It boasted the Sun Princess's Cutie Mark on the side.

We touched down, and the side doors opened. The Agent Ponies landed softly beside us as one of them spoke.

“Night Light, you will follow Agent #2 here. He will guide you to your next location. Sunshine, you will follow me.” 

Both of us stepped back.

“Wait wait, what? We never agreed to be separated!” I grabbed Night’s hoof, assuring my point.

“We ordered you to board the chariot to Canterlot, where High Command Ponies will speak to you. We never said you would do it together. And you have no choice. You already complied with our first order. If you fail to comply again, we can still arrest you as we’ve mentioned earlier.”

“Forget it, I’m not being separated from Night again, not after 7 years of Tartarus on earth!” I yelled.

“Sunshine, please. Just listen. It’s okay.” Night attempted to calm me down.

“No, it’s not okay! I just got you back, now I have to be separated from you again?!”

“No harm will come to Night Light, or you, Sunshine Tempest. The ponies in question who want to speak to you want to do just that: Talk. This is your last chance. Will you comply?” the agent spoke cooly.

I so badly wanted to rage out and say 'Fuck no!', flying away with Night Light instead. 

"Sunshine... Remember my promise?"

I gazed back at her.

"I'll be okay. Just don't make it worse. Alright?"

Looking at Night Light's face, which begged me to follow the agent’s orders, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I sighed heavily and groaned.

“I hate this. You know that." I spoke lowly. "But fine.”

“Then please, follow me. Night Light, please follow Agent #2.” I treaded behind the agent in question, looking back at Night Light as she began to lag behind Agent 2. I lost sight of her when we entered through the Main Gates, and Night was gone.

This was wrong. Everything about this felt wrong. I knew I wasn't technically a prisoner, but I couldn't help but feel like one. I looked around me, admiring the Canterlot Architecture to try to keep my mind off of it all. Ponies were trotting all around us, performing their daily chores, doing their jobs, going shopping, and socializing with one another.

Some gave us idle glances before moving on. There were so many conversations happening at once, I couldn’t make out a single one. We continued to trot towards- 

... A large, black pyramid near Canterlot castle. 

That wasn’t there before... I saw a sign written in bold above the entrance:




S.M.I.L.E. Agency




We entered inside, and the door shut behind us, silencing the conversations outside. I was greeted with blank, grey walls and bright lighting hanging from the ceiling, along with a very long and narrow hall with several doorways off to the side.

“We’re almost there. Follow me.” The agent ordered. I continued to trot behind.

“Where are you taking Night Light?”

“To a private location. She will still be in Canterlot.” That was all he answered.

We passed by multiple doorways, each secured with a metal door. Each of the doors had a tiny window slit you could peek through, though I didn’t have a good enough look at each of them as we continued to walk by to see what was on the other side.

Eventually, we stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a much larger door compared to the rest. 

It opened automatically, and inside was a dimly lit room, with a single table and 2 chairs on each side.

“Sit down in one of the designated chairs, and wait here. Somepony else will arrive shortly.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see.”

I slowly entered the room, and the door shut behind me almost instantly. I looked around the room, finding nothing else worth noting. So I sat down, and I began waiting for whoever wished to speak to me.

A minute passed by. Two minutes. Three. I shuffled my hooves together, and stretched my wings, looking for some way to pass the time. Five minutes. Still nothing. I yawned from the silence and boredom.

The doors suddenly opened, revealing an entirely different pony. This one was an Earth Pony Mare, with a Beige coat and Azure mane. The latter had a pink strip near her right eye.

“Hello, Sunshine Tempest.” She spoke, more energized than the boring, monotone agents from earlier. “My name is Agent Bon Bon.”






Night Light


I saw Sunshine disappear from my vision as I continued to walk with the Agent, who so… kindly encouraged us to separate like this. I followed close behind him, sparing about 5 feet or so of distance between us.

“Where are we going?”

“To somewhere where you can talk.” Was all he answered.

“Are you always this Vague and Cryptic?”

“Yes. Sometimes I’m not.”

“Do you ever get… mad, at your profession?”

“Only Slightly Annoyed. That’s the highest I can go.”

I didn’t bother asking any other questions. He was like an impregnable Stone Wall. Nothing could get past him.

We stopped at a very large, 2 Story Stone Building, with the same Canterlot Architecture that was in abundance in this city. No Inscriptions or Words were found, except for a Single Mural: It was a blank and pale pony face, Smiling with a very Wide Grin on her face. It looked like a happy Grin.

And yet, it disturbed me to my core.

We entered inside, and I was greeted with a Maze of Cubicles, and box offices. All around me, ponies were clicking and clacking away on their typewriters, while indistinct conversations were all around us.

“Stay close. We’re almost there.” The agent spoke. I treaded behind him, staying a little closer to the agent this time, as he guided us through the maze of Cubicles. He took a right, then another right, a left, left, right, forward, left, and a half turnaround, and later, we were outside of the maze, leaving my head dizzy and spinning. “We’re here.” The agent spoke.

There was an office door, with a small glazed window on the top portion of it. The Agent opened the door, and there was a room with a table and 2 chairs on each side. There was a Large Glass Window overlooking the cliff where this building was near, giving me a beautiful look over a good part of Equestria. I haven’t had a view like this since I was in the air.

The Door Shut behind me, and I heard a clicking noise. I looked at my hooves, not remembering moving them inside the room… when did that happen?

I looked back at one of the chairs, and instinctively chose the one facing the large window, to bask in the view. Almost immediately after I sat down, I heard the door open to my right, and a tall, brown-coated, muscle-bounded stallion walked through.

“Good Morning, Night Light. Or would you prefer if I call you Garuda 1 instead?”

... What? 

How the f... 

How did he know that name?!

How did-... Who is- I- What?!

“H-How?” I stuttered.

“We in the agency are very good at our job. My name is Grim Hooves.” He reached into his Suit Pocket, pulled out a silver tiny medallion, and dropped it onto the table in front of me. 

I looked closer and my blood ran cold.

It was the Blue Pheonix; its wings and its claws unfurled as it was ready to pounce, it's beak open as if it let out a predatory screech before catching its prey. 

Below the decal of the medallion was an inscription: Garuda

“You are Garuda 1, the Ace of the Blueblood... Right?”

I didn’t answer, I just kept staring at the medallion. 

A few tense moments of incredulous staring passed before I hardened my features.

“... What do you want from me?”

“I want answers." He dropped the binder of documents he was carrying with a hefty 'thump' on the table. 

"You know, quite a lot of your time spent was over the seas; a small part of Olenia here, Las Pegasus there, Mead Lake as well. And pretty much anywhere in the Equestria where your carrier can reach. You survived all of your duration as a pilot for the RAF - a very rare and astonishing feat all on its own. 

"I don’t know if you noticed, but veteran pilots from the Great War are not in abundance here in Equestria. You survived the entirety of that said war. Not a lot of ponies can say that.”

“Don’t remind me.” I tersely replied.

Grim hooves lips twitched ever so slightly at that. "See, that's the thing: I need to remind you. There is something else you know about your time overseas, isn't there?"

I remained silent.

"Something that is a closely guarded secret. A secret you would have otherwise taken with you to the grave."

“What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance.

Then he asked, slowly, the million-bit question. “Does the name ‘Aigaion’ or ‘Strigon’ sound familiar to you?”

I felt an icy cold shiver travel down my spine.

He was very precise with his choice of words. I haven’t heard those names in a very long time.

“Huh... that thing, huh?” I asked bitterly.

“So you do know them, then." Grim assessed. "You saw it first hoof then, with your own eyes." 

"What of it?" I asked carefully. 

"We need intel on them. And we need you to be honest with us about them.”

"Why?" I simply asked, bitterness creeping into my voice. Grim Hooves proceeded to sit down in the chair in front of me. "Aren't they dead?"

"Yes, but S.M.I.L.E. Agency is dedicated and devoted to one thing and one thing only: Containment. Right at this moment, there have only been sketchy reports and rumors arising from all across Equestria about various acts of criminal activities that violate the integrity of our government. Weapon shipments are being stolen, Aircraft are mysteriously disappearing, and various vehicles from mothball compounds all around the continent are scrapped and stolen with no record or trace.

"Now, normally, we wouldn't get involved with this sort of thing and let the respective Police and Detectives sort this problem out. Heck, if even the government wanted to intervene, they wouldn't send us. 

"But there was something else attached to this mystery that just so happens to be related to you. Something that we have desperately been wanting information on. And that is 'Strigon' and 'Aigaion.'"

“Why does it matter anymore? The war is over! It’s done! I saw the Aigaion blow apart with my own eyes! The Strigons are dead and gone! Why does any of this matter now?” I stood up and shouted.

Grim looked at me squarely in the eye. “Because, If we ever have a chance for another ‘Eternal Peace’, we need to learn from our mistakes. And make sure that such a horrible, destructive event, or in this case ‘weapon’, will never occur again. 

"And right now, there are things happening all across Equestria behind the scenes. Thing correlating to you, and Sunshine. Things that both of you know that we need to assess so we can take action. 

"We need you to tell us everything you know.”

I couldn’t help but feel sorrow from this whole ordeal, as the emotional whiplash settling down on me. 

One moment I was the happiest mare alive with Sunshine, and now I am here reliving a terrible awful tragedy that has inflicted our world with so much pain and misery. 

I just wanted it all to end. 

I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Before the war, and make it stay that way.

If only I could.

“Look. I can let you and Sunshine go later today when this is done. When you and Sunshine tell us everything you two know, we will let you go and you won’t be bothered by us again. You have my word.”

I sat there, staring out into space through the large window. I saw a formation of planes flying together in the distance.

"And if you are honest with us, we can piece the rest together on our own and we can save both of us valuable time. What do you say?"

The clouds were casting shadows on the ground as they slowly drifted across the landscape. My thoughts churned and bubbled until only one question remained.

“Answer me this question, then I will help you: I can understand the Agency wanting me, but why do they want Sunshine just as badly?”

Grim pulled off his sunglasses, neatly folding them and clipping them in his pocket. “That's for her to confess and for them to figure out. Something you two seem to have in common.”

I shuddered.

"Fine. What now?"

“I want you to start from your first sortie, all the way to your last. Every major one, at least. I don’t need the details of minor skirmishes. I need to know the Big ones - the ones involving Strigon mainly.”

“Well… Where do I start?”

“From the Beginning.”

“What do you want to know?

“Everything."

I took a deep breath. I had no choice.

Down the rabbit hole of memory lane.
> (A2) - Prologue: Recognition [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 2, Prologue: Recognition



"Then, even nothingness was not..."







Night Light


I paused.

I actually had no idea where to start.

I closed my eyes, trying to force my brain to think of the earliest memory I can muster up from the war. Besides basic training, there were a couple of memories regarding a few minor skirmishes that occurred off the western coast, but they didn’t prove to be helpful enough to give any leads about the Aigaion. 

Another memory came to mind. The only reason I ever heard about the ‘Aigaion’ in the first place was because of me. 

More so specifically, because of ‘Garuda’.

Because of Garuda's actions and their repercussions, there was virtually no chance that I knew of its existence by sheer coincidence. It was all my fault, it seemed. Garuda was the name of the squadron I flew with, I was the lead plane - Of course they would put two-and-two together.

“Well?” Grim impatiently asked, noticing my hesitation.

“I… Sorry, I... I have trouble remembering things at times. Just, give me a second.” I contemplated again. 

Garuda wasn’t anything special at first, once I had joined. Just the name of a small squadron. But over time, it became something more. And the Changelings, who seemed very determined at the time to destroy me and my crew, were willing to go to extreme lengths to take us down. 

The Aigaion was one of these extreme measures.

Although its sole purpose wasn't for us specifically - or for hunting down a squadron in general - it did take notice of our growing reputation and notoriety among the Changeling military. 

The idea that the Changelings had feared us back then in the past was still alien to me now, and I couldn't wrap my head around it still to this day. And it was the only reason how I and my squad were caught in the crossfire of this mess. Thinking back on it now, I knew it was out of my control to stop the snowball effect of events from spiraling out on the event horizon. And yet, something nagged me in the back of my mind that something could've been better, had I done something different.

Not having to think about those memories for a few months since then had really made me rusty at remembering things apparently.

“I guess… I’ll have to start from when I first got the name ‘Garuda’. It’s the name of my Squadron. The-”

“28h Fighter Squadron, 8th Royal Air Wing. We know. We have your file.” With that, he flipped open the binder with a hoof. The contents came spewing out, each paper and document containing different kinds of information regarding me. My BMI, subspecies, age, name, location of birth, deployment date, assigned plane, and squadron info were all right here. 

“We know everything there is to know about you: Your bio, your physicality, your relationships… everything. However, Official Records have not gotten around to record all of the wartime conflicts that had happened. So we’re in the dark as far as your combat record goes. But luckily for us, that’s where you come in.

"I don’t need your identity, I need you to ask yourself: ‘what happened?’. Then we will get what we need.”

I quickly scanned the documents before me. Every single piece of information that was on here, as I read, was exceptionally accurate. I gave a long sigh.

“Well, where should I start then? Do you have any ideas? I can’t remember everything at the top of my head.”

“Yes, we understand. We’re not asking you to remember absolutely everything.”

“But that’s just what you-”

“I know what I said!” Grim suddenly snapped at me. He paused and took a moment to calm down, breathing slowly. “Yes, I know… I said that. Let me rephrase myself for you: I want you to remember everything that has to do with the Aigaion specifically. Can you do that?”

I stared at the medallion that was on the table. My emblem. 

“I can try. But no promises on accuracy.”

“Do the best you can. Start from the earliest you remember.” 

I took a long deep inhale in, and an even longer exhale out. I didn’t know how long I was gonna be here. This was going to be a long long story.

“The year was 1012, mid-April.”






April 21st, 1012. 23:44 CST (Canterlot Standard Time)


I lay there on my bunk, staring at the same grey, blank wall that I have been staring at for the past 8 months. The Blueblood was cruising across the ocean, escorted by destroyers and cruisers, both heavy and light ones. 

I’ve been laying on my cot for about 2 hours now, and haven’t been able to fall asleep. I couldn’t move during curfew, however, so doing anything else was not an option. I just looked at the grey ceiling above my head, tossing and turning in the dark bunkroom for what felt like days. 

As far as I can tell, the Blueblood was currently tasked to patrol Pegasi Gulf and the seas to the west of it as far as 50 kilometers. There have been rumors of air raids performed by changelings that have passed over these waters, and we were provided to try and act as a screen for the air force. Combined with the radar facilities that we built off of the Coastline, the Changelings shouldn't be too difficult to catch as long as we stay in range. We were to intercept and destroy any aircraft that passes over us, as well as their fleets should it come to that.

Except there hasn’t been any contact in weeks, and the ponies on board are starting to get anxious.

I sighed long and heavily, dragging my hoof over my eyes. Why couldn’t I fall back asleep? There were still hours until curfew was over, and yet I could not get lucky enough to fall back to slumber.

I groaned.

This sucks.

“You cannot sleep as well?” Naya all of the sudden spoke above me, making me slightly jump.

“Naya? You’re here with me?” I whispered, trying my best to not wake the other ponies around me.

“'Tis hard to sleep on moving ship. Something I am not accustomed to. Usually, it would be raining about now, and I would look outside the window to see the droplets fall down to the earth. That usually lulls me to sleep. However, I am not so lucky now.”

Her dialect was weirdly pleasing and soothing to listen to. Despite sounding incomplete, it carried a pleasant cadence to her speech.

We lay separate from one another in awkward silence, listening to the hum of the engine through these metallic walls. The ship was gently listing off to one side, then to the next, almost barely noticeable. Naya sighed softly.

“Your country; it’s very radical about their princesses, are they?”

“Which one? There’s four of them.” I chortled.

"Exactly.“ She remarks. "Four Immortal Alicorns... I can only imagine the respect and power they must exert to have to rule a nation like this one... What do you think the Princess of Friendship thinks about this war?”

“... Princess Twilight? Ehm, I don't know. Haven't really given it much thought.”

I looked at the other ponies to my right, silently sleeping. I sighed, laying my head back down as I stared at the ceiling. 

“But if her opinion was anything like mine, I’d say she probably hates it just as much as everypony else. Being a Princess of Friendship in times of war sounds Counter-Intuitive. I think she just wants things to go back the way they were.”

“And you do as well?” Naya asked. “What do you wish the outcome of this war will be?”

“I dunno... Things going back to normal sounds nice n' all. But then, what is normal anymore, in a world gone awry?”

Naya answered for me. “If there is peace, there is Harmony. And when there is Harmony, there is no radical change. And that is something Ponies have been used to for a very long time. If life in Equestria becomes mostly uneventful, unlike this hectic and chaotic reality we find ourselves in, then Equestria will have its Eternal Peace again. 

"But really, there is no such thing as an ‘Eternal Peace’, because peace - no matter how long it lasts - is not eternal. There will always be something that later in the future changes the balance of the harmony we worked so hard to maintain.” Naya paused as if she was catching her breath. “However, I did learn that if we hope for any chance of Eternal Peace, no matter how impossible it may be, we must learn to shape and write history for good purposes. For morally right purposes.” Naya concluded.

This was the first time I’d gotten a good idea who Naya was, as a pony. I had learned at that moment that she was brighter than most of us were on this ship.

“You know, you’re smarter than you look, Naya,” I added. I could hear a soft chuckle.

“There is much to be learned from life if you just pay attention and study yourself.”

Studying myself was not the highest of my priorities most of the time. But I do admit, she raised a valid point. I’ve managed to stifle a yawn or two during her ramble, but eventually one slipped by me. Maybe I can finally fall asleep.

“Pony... Is there anything from your old life that you miss?” Naya asked. I gave out a low, dry chuckle.

"I have a name, you know,“ I chuckled "And yes; oh yes, plenty of things. I miss cloudy beds, chocolate, safety from bullets, a properly cooked breakfast cooked every morning, and a good night's sleep.” I paused. “And Sunshine. I miss Sunshine.”

“There’s plenty of sunshine out in the-”

“Not that sunshine. I mean… my Sunshine.”

“I… do not follow.” Naya blankly spoke.

“I know. She was my Marefriend. Before the war, and now during it. And I intend her to be my Marefriend after the war… at least, I hope so.”

“Ah. My apologies. How close were you?”

I contemplated her words carefully. “... Do you think considering to… marry her, is close enough?”

Naya didn’t immediately reply. She must’ve taken the time to think her words carefully. 

“Well... I would ask: how committed are you to ensuring that the bond lasts? But from an objective, and neutral standpoint, I would say that is rather romantic. I think it is lovely.”

I couldn't help but smile slightly. “Thanks.” Another yawn managed to escape me. It wouldn’t be long now, I hoped.

“I… feel the same way about how you miss your beloved, at least to some degree. I do miss my family, every day. My mind sometimes never stops thinking about them. I usually ignore it, but mostly… I feel Homesick. I suppose that is something we foreigners have in common.”

I raised a brow in question. “But I am not a foreigner.” Naya chuckled.

“Silly pony: With this new metal prison being your home, you are most definitely a foreigner.”

"... Can't argue with that."

I felt my eyelids suddenly become heavy. Another yawn escaped. I closed my eyes and felt their dead weight sink me closer to sleep. I didn't hear Naya say anything else to me, so I was focused on getting some shuteye. Eventually, sleep took hold of me.






May 1st, 1012. 15:27 CST


The loudspeakers blared to life as all pilots were called to the Mission Room. I was sitting in the cafeteria, eating my breakfast when the announcement came. 




All Pilots, report to the Mission Room in 5. All Pilots, report to the Mission Room in 5.




I quickly finished my meal (which was a small bowl of oats cereal) and made my way down to Floor B, where the Hanger Bay was. I used my wings to circumnavigate the crowd of aircraft and ponies in my way, making my way to the stern of the ship. Upon entering the Mission Room, I sat down in one of the many metal chairs facing a white screen. Some of the chairs were already occupied, as ponies were already talking to each other. I even saw Big Mouth, who was sitting by himself, looking bored. It didn’t take long for the others to get down here, as more and more Earth Ponies and Pegasi alike were sitting down in the chairs around us.

About 3 minutes have passed since I sat down, and more of the chairs were being filled. Almost all of them had a pony sitting in them. Some were still unaccounted for. Four minutes now, and some of the final ponies are walking in now. I spotted Lucky and Naya sitting together in the row ahead of me, to the left. The lights dimmed all of a sudden, and we could barely see in front of us. There was a flickering noise emitting from behind my head, and a white beam of light flashed at the white screen revealing a countdown. While this was happening, another pony walked through the doors behind us, this one different from the others: He was wearing a flight officer’s uniform, with a small collection of ribbons attached to his chest.

“Ok Everypony, today is the big day! We finally have gotten word from Las Pegasus’s Radar Station. My name is Major Lieutenant Hawk Eyes, and I’ll be briefing you on this next mission you’re about to perform.” 

In an instant, everypony felt an overwhelming sense of authority in his voice, forcing all of us to pay attention. 

As the white screen finished its countdown, instantly it showed us black-and-white imagery of very grainy photographs taken from the air. Though they look like black ink splots more than anything, I could make out the shape of several aircraft flying in a 'V' formation.

“We’ve confirmed that the enemy is sending multiple squadrons of bombers with escort fighters flying alongside them. We don’t know the details about their flight composition just yet at this time, but it has been said that the squadrons in question are about to pass over out fleet at high altitudes. We can't touch them with our Anti Air, and sending our Pegasi out to clear the skies will take too long to have any effect. Therefore, we are sending you up into the air.

“Over the last few days, we’ve gotten reports from the frontlines that the Changeling Air Force is mobilizing. One of these Air Groups is currently setting a course for Las Pegasus, no doubt to wipe out the Radar installations on the coastline. Losing that radar station would mean we lose our eyes in several Strategic Regions, including Pegasi Gulf. The survival of this station is paramount.

“Pilots, your mission today is to intercept those Bomber Squadrons that are currently heading their way toward Pegasi Gulf and shoot them down. We’re counting on a solid performance. I know some of you are newcomers, so my advice to you is to follow your orders, keep your head cool, and aim true. We need you for this mission.”

He pointed a Hoof at the aircraft on the white screen. 

“The enemy’s aircraft is nothing we aren’t used to. It should be a standard bombing Air Wing: An escort Squadron of 109’s, along with a regiment of 117s with 111s. They will be likely carrying a heavy payload, so it is imperative that they are neutralized at all costs.”

The white screen flashed, and a new image was presented, showing a map of the Lunar Ocean, with multiple arrows indicating flight paths, and timetables indicating itineraries. 

“The enemy is expected to be over the city in the next couple of hours we’re one of the few air wings who can intercept. You will be supported by various other squadrons from the Pegasopolis, as well as land-based aircraft coming from las Pegasus. Together, you will rendezvous over these coordinates at the designated time frame. I wish you all the best of luck!” 

The white screen flashed for the final time and soon went dead. Immediately, the room’s lighting came back. “You have 5 minutes to assemble for takeoff. Dismissed!” Hawk ordered, instantly encouraging everyone to hop out of their seats and follow his orders. One by one, Ponies were shoving each other out of the way to exit the room, heading towards the Lockers for their equipment. I hovered over everypony, along with several other pegasi, as I made my way to the Equipment Locker, at the bow end of the Hanger Bay.

I was one of the first few who made it to the locker room, and instantly I made my way to my Locker. Locker #39. It held a Combination Lock, only accessible to me. I turned to the corresponding combination and opened the locker, revealing its contents to me. 

It had your standard Fighter Pilot Kit: The Life Preserver, the Parachute (for non-pegasi), First Aid Kit, A Heavy Jacket, a Leather Padded cap, a Rebreather, and Goggles. I never wore the Goggles, But the Flight Cap I kept. It kept the Mane out of my eyes when I flew.

It didn’t take me long to get into gear, only a minute and a half time spent to suit up. I looked around, and other ponies were walking in and cracking open their lockers ready to suit up. I felt a hoof touch my right shoulder, it was Lucky.

“So," Lucky started. "You fancy our chances on this?"

“Excuse me?” I replied.

“I mean... How do you hold up in the air? Apparently, they made a last-second change on me, and I’m a part of this squad now. So uh…” He patted my withers twice with his hoof. “Don’t let me die.” He smiled sheepishly. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m not planning to.”

“I don’t know about you,” Big Mouth spoke to my left, as he was still suiting up. “But I’m ready to shoot some ugly buggers. Not a single one of them is getting through me without a bullet.”

“Save it for the air,” Naya then joined, walking into view already suited up. “This is just your standard interception mission, no need to seek glory here.”

“It's because it's just your standard interception mission that I'll still shoot ‘em down anyway.” Big Mouth Concluded. "All the more reason too, in fact."

“We all will. Once we’re in the air, we will have the freedom to do so.” Lucky reminded.

“No, you won’t. This isn’t your typical free engagement mission, we still have to follow orders from the chain of command.” Naya Corrected

"Ugh, do we have to bring miss 'protocol' here?" Big complained, earning a scolding look from Naya behind his back.

“Yes. For now, just assemble near the Runway. We’ll be taking off soon.” I interrupted. Lucky sighed in relief, as he gingerly strode away from Naya and Big. Both continued their way upward at their own pace, away from one another. Everyone was finishing up their preparations, as the loudspeakers were blaring once more.




"Garuda Team, assemble near the runway. Garuda Team, assemble near the runway."




“Looks like we’ll be taking off first after all,” Lucky commented softly to himself as we made our way to the staircase. We made it up to Floor B and then to Floor A, making our way outside on the runway. It was overcast, with a few holes of blue sky and sunshine, almost about to rain. I could see the neverending plane of churning water stretch out before me, boasting its vastness all the way to the horizon. 

The smaller flotillas that were escorting the Blueblood can be seen trailing along with the carrier at the same speed. They kept their distance with one another.

I turned back to see four planes were already lined up and prepared for takeoff on the runway, still tethered and waiting. My mates and I stood near the control tower, staring at the planes we would be embarking on soon. I took a moment to look around me as I saw ponies all over the ship pacing about, doing their jobs. There were also ponies on the flight deck, closely inspecting our aircraft, and doing their pre-takeoff maintenance routine.

“How much longer now?” Lucky impatiently asked.

“Shouldn’t be too long now,” I answered. I noticed Naya mumble something to herself, but couldn’t hear over the sounds of ponies shouting, and the waves of water slamming into the hull.

“Always take so fuckin’ long,” Big commented.

We were all standing together, anxiously waiting for the signal. With every passing second, the air seemed to be growing more apprehensive... And humid. The rain was a guarantee today. 

Thankfully we’ll be inside the cockpit when it happens. But the worst of it comes when it starts affecting the plane itself. There have been a number of stories about air accidents due to bad weather. It wasn’t uncommon.

Finally, the Loudspeakers blared once more.




"Garuda Team, Embark your Aircraft!"

 


Instantly, all four of us sprinted to the planes that each of us was assigned. I sprinted to the first Plane in line and Embarked inside using my wings. I sat in the cockpit, eyeing every single gauge and meter that was on display, before buckling myself in and closing the cockpit. 

I took my flight Cap with Earmuffs and put them on. I then pulled a wire from the back of the right Earmuff and connected it to a control panel located underneath the stick, powering it on. It was the radio control panel. 

I switched the frequency to the correct channel, allowing me to communicate with Blueblood control. The second frequency I saved on the panel allowed me to communicate with my Squadron. As soon as I was connected, I pulled the mask from the Aviator Cap and spoke into it.

“This is Night Light to Blueblood Control, Rover Crystal, I repeat, Rover Crystal. Over.” I spoke blankly, waiting for a response.

“Roger that Night Light, Lima Crystal, we read you.” I heard a tinny voice in my right ear reply. “Stand By. We’re trying to get confirmation here. Out.” while I waited, I switched to the second frequency.

“Night Light to all planes, what is your status? Over.”

“This is Lucky, I’m green to go! Out.”

“Naya here, I am ready. Out.”

“Big is ready! Out.” All 3 of them replied at once. The radio was working just fine.

“Control to Night Light, we’ve got confirmation of your sortie. You’ve been granted for takeoff. All planes, Night Light is Garuda 1. Naya is assigned to number 2, Lucky 3, and Big Mouth 4. This is not a free engagement mission, so follow all orders from Garuda 1. Break.” There was a slight pause, before continuing. “Garuda Team, you have permission to take off.” 

“Roger that, Garuda team Launching!” I pronounced and switched to the second frequency again. “All planes set your Fuel Mixtures to the right ratios. Max out the Propeller pitch, and switch to auto-mode after takeoff. And keep those Radiators vented opened. How copy so far? Over.” I ordered through my radio.

“We copy, continue. Over.” Naya answered first.

“Give me a sitrep with all diagnostics. Over.” I proceeded to move the stick around, looking at my wings to notice them shifting. The Ailerons beneath the wings began to move up and down erratically. I then stepped on the pedals below the stick and turned behind me. The Rudder moved side to side, as well as the elevator. 

“All systems check for Garuda 1. Garuda 2, what’s your status?”

“Green.”

“Garuda 3, what’s your Status?”

“Green.”

“And Garuda 4?”

“Green.”

“Ok, all planes are green. Lower flaps, Ignite engines, and keep the throttle back.” With that, I flipped the lever to start the engine, making the propeller sputter black smoke for a moment before beginning to spin rapidly. 

I eased my throttle forward as it began to accelerate, sending me lurching back to my seat. As the plane attempted to veer to the left, my stepping on the right pedal for the rudder wasn’t allowing it to go anywhere. I kept the stick steady as it began to shake and pick up speed.

The runway disappeared in front of me, sending my plane slowly descending downward. After a couple of seconds, it stopped descending and started to climb. I raised my flaps and landing gear soon after.

“Garuda 1 Launched. Garuda 2, takeoff.” Control spoke in my right ear.

“Roger that, Garuda 2 launching!” Naya spoke.

The Control tower squelched once more. “Garuda 1, circle above the Blueblood until the rest of your squad has taken off. Over.”

“Copy that, moving to idle now. Out.” I tilted the stick to the left, making the plane swerve slowly around the port side of the Blueblood. I saw Naya’s plane run out of the runway and gently lifted off, banking right afterward.

“Garuda 2 Launched. Garuda 3, Takeoff.”

“Copy that.” 

Lucky’s plane began to move now. As it picked up speed, Control spoke once again.

“Garuda 4, Takeoff.”

“Affirmative.” Now Big’s plane began to pick up speed. By the time Lucky got off the Runway, Big’s was already halfway across the deck. I saw Naya slowly pull up to my right as Big finally lift off the runway.

“All Garuda team members launched. Garuda team set your bearing to 315 and proceed to the Rendezvous Point. The 1st Air Squadron from the Ark Royal should be waiting. Break.” another slight pause. “The other squadrons from Blueblood will takeoff and join you momentarily. Over.”

“Roger that control, out.” I switched to my Squad’s channel. “All planes, regroup on me above the Blueblood. Assemble into ‘Rarity’ formation.”

“Affirmative, Garuda 2 shifting to ‘Pink’ position.” I watched behind me as Naya’s plane slowly drifted backward behind me, intent on staying there.

“This is Garuda 4, I’ll switch to Blue. Lucky, you’ll get Yellow this time.”

“Roger, shifting now.” soon afterward, 2 more planes began to slowly form into a diamond formation: Big on my left, Lucky on my right, and Naya to my rear. They stayed close to me and separated from each other.

“Maintain current course, increase altitude to 2500 meters, and maintain airspeed above 250 Kilos if you can.”

“Good copy Garuda 1. We’re right behind you.” Lucky answered.

As we were slowly beginning to rise above the clouds, wet droplets of rain begin to cover the cockpit canopy, obscuring a part of my vision. The rain was starting to come down. After a couple of minutes of climbing, I looked down at the Fuel Gauge and flipped a couple of switches, making the gauge’s meter move to the right. 73 Gallons.

“All planes, check your fuel gauges,” I ordered. There was a moment of silence before the response came through.

“Garuda 2; 74 Gallons.”

“3; 74 Gallons.”

“4; 75 Gallons.”

“Roger, Maintain current Altitude and Airspeed. Leave at least 30 minutes of fighting time over the Gulf. And keep an eye on your gauges, even when things get hot.”

“Roger that. Any idea when they’ll be here?” Lucky asked. 

“Command said they would be here in a couple of hours. It won’t be long now. But first, we need to regroup with the 1st Air Wing.”

“The Wonderbolts? Ugh, they really brought those fucking loons out of all ponies?” Big complained.

“These bombers are our highest priority. The ponies back in Las Pegasus are counting on us. Besides, the Wonderbolts are the best we could ask for. Trust me, we’ll need them.” I replied.

“They always get the credit though! We can handle this without them.”

“True as that may be, we can’t take any chances. The risk is too great. No use in arguing, so end of discussion." I figuratively put my hoof down, and Big Mouth was uncharacteristically quiet.

We continued to fly through and in between the many clouds that litter the sky. Fighting in these conditions was going to be a challenge, especially if the enemy is using the clouds to their advantage. We flew Northwest for about 10 minutes until finally, we saw a large formation of planes flying Eastbound. I saw them in a V formation, each plane leaving behind a trail of Blue Smoke. 

The Wonderbolts.

“Garuda team, standby while I communicate with Wonderbolt lead.” I switched my Squadron frequency temporarily to 154.9. I spoke aloud as soon as I was done configuring. 

“Wonderbolt, Wonderbolt, this is Garuda Team, we’ve arrived at the rendezvous point, requesting permission to merge into your formation. Over.” There was a moment of silence. Then a crackling squelch, followed by another voice.

“Good copy Garuda, that’s an affirmative. It’s good to hear from you again. We’ll be heading towards our mission objective, you’re welcome to join us.” Spitfire replied back. “We have a special guest with us today. The Gryphus squadron will be accompanying us for this mission. They’re volunteers from Aquila, so be on your best behavior now.”

“Volunteers, huh? Well, we appreciate the assistance. Let’s show them how the Equestrian Air Force gets it done!” Another Wonderbolt piped up. 

I managed to get a good look at the planes Gryphus was flying. They were designed differently than ours, their Fuselage longer and narrower than ours, and their wings shorter and thicker. But the real noticeable difference was the propeller. It had a dual propeller engine in the same spot, no doubt increasing the speed and climb rate of their aircraft. I can imagine them not turning as fast as ours, however.

“Gryphus to all units - looks like the reinforcements are here.”

“Quite so,” Lucky replied confidently.

“Garuda team, follow close behind and switch to ‘String’ formation,” I ordered as I broke off from the group, and steered behind Spitfire’s group. I counted a total of at least 30 planes, not including my squad.

“Garuda 3 copies,” Lucky answered. One by one, my team began to form to the sides of my plane. One to my left, and two to my right. Together we formed a horizontal line while trailing close behind Wonderbolt Lead. Gryphus was over us, maintaining some kind of wide curved wedge formation. 

We were all flying together now, as we continued the course.





30 minutes of flying over broken clouds and seemingly endless ocean later, I started to wonder how soon we would engage the enemy. More and more planes began to join our formation as we continued to fly. There were multiple teams and squads assigned for this mission. Each of them had sharing frequency, so I could not pick up on what everyone was saying as they were talking simultaneously.

I pulled the mask over my face again and strapped it in place. “Garuda team, I’ll be going Radio Silence for a moment. Maintain current formation and standby.”

“Did something happen boss?” Big questioned.

“Negative, just wanted to check on something. Wait for one.” I switched the squadron channel to Blueblood control’s channel, and proceeded to speak. “Blueblood control, this is Garuda 1, do you read me? Over.” Silence. I spoke again. “Garuda 1 to Blueblood Control. Do you read me? Over.” More silence. I was beginning to worry that I had inputted the wrong frequency. Then a pop, and a fizzing noise emitted from my ear, with the voice of a stallion barely hearable through the garbled static. 

“Blueblood to Garuda 1, we read you. What’s going on? Over.”

“We have negative contact with the enemy formation so far. Requesting approximate ETA on the enemy formation entering combat airspace. Over.” There was a slight pause before static came through again, sounding heavier. I could still make up what he was saying, though barely. 

“Roger, be advised, you are moving out of our range, so I will not be available for communications after this transmission. Stand by, out.”

I waited, looking at the clouds around me, seeing flashes of lightning break out in a  couple of clouds. We were just barely above the cloud screen, so we could see the sun as it shined down upon us. I was hoping we would find them right about now, but they were nowhere to be found. Maybe they were hiding below the clouds? More static came through my right earmuff.

“Garuda 1, we got an incoming telegram from Las Pegasus. You are over the Gulf now, and both you and the enemy are being tracked on Radar. Enemy is expected to enter combat airspace from bearing 030 ETA 10 minutes, it shouldn’t be long now. Is that helpful? Over.“

“Yes, it is Control, thanks for the info. Garuda team, out.” I cut communications, we were well outside their range anyway. I switched my frequency to Garuda’s, and relayed the news. “Garuda team, the enemy is expected to arrive ETA 10 minutes. They should almost be in view about now.”

“Copy, closing Radiators,” Naya answered. 

“Garuda 1 to Wonderbolt and Gryphus, enemies are approaching from bearing 030. ETA 10 minutes.”

“Roger that Garuda. All wonderbolts, assume combat formation.” Almost simultaneously, all of the wonderbolt planes began to dip their noses downward, aiming for the clouds below us. I descended along behind them, my team sticking close and staying in formation.

“This is Gryphus Lead, we’ll get up high and scan the area for you. Out.” I looked up to see the Heavier duty aircraft climb upwards towards the sun, as my plane continued to dive. Eventually, the wonderbolts stopped diving and leveled out as they maintained their course.

“I wish you comrades the best of luck. If we get back, Labor Day celebratory drinks are on me!” Naya spoke proudly.

“Labor Day?” I asked.

“Every Dawn of May, the ponies from my homeland would usually cheer and drink, while they celebrated the holiday together and sing songs. It's to celebrate the diligence and sacrifice of all workers in Stalliongrad, in honor of their revolution. I even have drinks.”

“You’ve managed to get drinks into the Blueblood? Hell, I think I’m starting to like you a little more now.” Lucky admitted.

“Save some for me, Celestia knows I might need one after this.” Big concluded.

We flew in silence for a little while longer. 4 minutes have passed, each second passing filling the air with tension and apprehension. We had to be very close now.

“Garuda team, sitrep. Is everypony okay?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

“I’m angsty, but I’ll be alright.”

“I’ll live.” 

“I’ll be fine.” They all spoke at once.

“Stay calm, keep your head cool,” I stated.

I skimmed around the cockpit, noticing more planes joining the furball from behind us. There were at least 50 of us now, maybe more. Each team had a different number of planes, a different formation, and a different callsign. I wasn’t familiar with all of them, but I knew a couple. There was Avalanche, Sapphire, Dash, and Stratus. Those were the ones that were with us right now.

I instinctively switched my Wonderbolt Frequency, as I thought it would be easier for us all to call out important information. I still had my Team’s channel, I just wasn’t using it. 

Just then, I heard a voice speak.

“Gryphus to all units, we have confirmation of the first bomber wave. Spotted bearing 015 from our position, 10 klicks out.” 

My heart began to race.

“Roger that Gryphus, how many do you see?” Spitfire asked.

“Unknown, looks like at least 30 of them, maybe more.”

“Roger, all planes, assume attack formation. We’re about to engage.” Spitfire ordered her planes, and they instantly began to spread out, forming a much longer and narrow V-Shape formation.

Somewhere beyond the Clouds, I could see black silhouettes of aircraft popping through… a lot of them. 

I counted at least 15 fighters at least escorting them, and 10 more bombers, at the very least. 

And that was just the first wave.

“That is a lot of planes…” I heard a voice of anguish.

I noticed smaller aircraft breaking the bomber formation and turning towards us, no doubt engaging us before we could reach the bombers. My mouth all of a sudden tasted foul as my heart continued to race.

“Their escorts are breaking! They’re about to engage!” Someone from Wonderbolt squad announced.

“Maintain formation!”

"They're coming in hot!" I could hear Wonderbolt communications getting hectic.

“Orders, Garuda 1?” Naya asked.

“Garuda team, bank hard on my signal. Engage wherever possible.” I ordered. 

There was barely enough time left for me to send one quick silent prayer to Celestia as the enemy was getting closer.

“Gryphus to all planes, we’re engaging the enemy bombers.”

“Roger that. Garuda, think you can lend us a hoof with these escorts?” Spitfire requested.

“Affirmative. We’re right behind you.” I answered. The swarm of 109s approached ever closer. "Garuda, we're prioritizing the escorts!"

“Stratus is green for engagement!”

“Dash is good to go!”

“Avalanche, ready to engage!”

“Sapphire is ready to go!”

“Ok, this is it!” Spitfire announced, instantly earning a reaction out of each of them as I heard the Lead Channel flood with frantic voices and static.

“3 Klicks out!”

“Nye pluch, eto vremya proshlo…” Naya spoke in her native tongue.

“Tally Ho!” Lucky bellowed.

“2 klicks!”

“All Planes, Break! Break!”

“Here they come!” 

In a blur, all the planes in the sky exchanged fire, or even crashed into each other during the initial break. Golden and Jade Tracers streaked across the sky, tearing it apart by the seams.

And all of Tartarus broke loose.





I kept darting my head behind me, checking to see if he has shaken off.

Of course, he didn’t and was still continuing to fire away at my tail.

I couldn’t shake him. I dipped my nose downward, and disappeared into the clouds, instantly breaking right after I lost sight of him. I rolled, banking my way out from the cloud cover, and found that he was finally not pursuing me. I found him popping out of the clouds underneath me to my left, trying to find where I went. 

I rolled in a quick 180 turn, and pointed my nose down as I gave chase to him. He must’ve seen me coming because he attempted to roll away in a vain attempt, hoping I would miss. 

I didn’t. Seconds later, his fuselage caught fire, and he was spinning out of control.

“Garuda Team, give me a sitrep now!” I yelled into the mask.

“I’ve taken a couple of shots on my wing. Still airborne!” Lucky called out.

“Garuda 2 is good.” Naya spoke calmly.

“Big is fine!” Big spoke last. 

“Regroup above the clouds, find the yellow smoke and regroup into Theta formation! We need to find those bombers!”

“Copy that!”

“These ones aren’t your usual 109’s, they got 20 Mils under their wings! Stay sharp!” I ordered.

10 minutes of hectic combat had passed. My plane suffered a couple of hits, but it was still flying. All around me, fighters from both sides were dancing around each other in a fruitless battle for Air Supremacy; gracefully steering, diving, climbing, and shooting. I’ve already counted at least 6 allied planes lost, and I had no idea how many the Bugs lost. I noticed a couple of planes spewing black smoke from the tail, and others were on fire as they sprawling towards the ocean below us.

“Gryphus, what’s the status on those bombers?!” Spitfire frantically asked, as I saw her plane was wildly steering in multiple directions, hoping to lose the bandit on her tail. I noticed my team slowly forming up on me as yellow smoke was spewing out of my wings. They formed slowly behind me, and one to my right, making an ‘X’ Formation

“We’re losing it! We confirmed 5 bombers down, but they just won’t quit! We need support now!”

“Garuda 1 to Gryphus 1, we’re on our way. Where’s your location?”

“We’re about 10 minutes out from the coast. They're above the clouds, and are getting closer to the city!”

“Not if we have anything to say about it!” I declared as I turned my plane to the South-East, climbing ever higher to gain altitude. More droplets of water stained the glass of the cockpit, as the haze of cloud vapor blinded my surroundings. Eventually though, I emerged throught to be greeted with a bright afternoon sun shining down upon me. The rest of my team followed suit in formation. After a quick search, I finally spotted the less intimidating formation of bombers with gryphus above them diving for the kill. Their tactics were top notch: they dived down on the dead zone where the gunners couldn’t reach them, gaining more speed as they got closer, before usually firing one burst to kill the bombers. ‘Boom and Zoom’, as Spitfire called it.

“Garuda Team, we can’t let a single bomb hit that radar station! Prioritize on the bombers, and give them everything we got!” I called out.

“Good copy!”

“I’m on it!”

“Here we go!” They all spoke at once again. 

“Break formation, Engage!” I ordered, making them break from the X and steering to engage the bombers. I noticed one lowly fighter sneak up behind one of my Squadmate's planes, as they broke off.

“Naya, you got one on your tail!” Lucky called out.

“I am aware.” Naya simply responded. Her plane inverted, and was flying down to the ocean, disappearing into the clouds. The 109 followed behind, also flying in the clouds. I lost sight of both of them.

“Where’s our support from LAs Pegasus!? Shouldn’t they be here?” Big yelled.

“I don’t know. Focus on the bombers. Wipe them from our sky!” I reiterated. The formation zoomed closer and closer, as I fixed my sights on one of the bombers. I squeezed the trigger, Golden Tracers shot out to the Quad-Engined Beast. Sparks were emitting from the fuselage and the wings. At first, nothing happened. A few more rounds later, and smoke started to spew out from one of the engines. Soon it became darker. I continued to fire, delivering more tracers. I must’ve hit the fuel tank or something, because the plane began to burn uncontrollably as it continued to fly. Soon, it’s noes started to tip down, as one by one, Changelings were bailing out of the plane. Some of them were on fire already, as their corpse fell aimlessly to the ocean below. 

I felt like I wanted to hurl after seeing such a sight.

“That ocean might cool ya, you fucking cunts!” Big cheers.

The gunners from the other bombers noticed my presence and opened up on me. I steered hard right, hoping to evade the incoming fire of green bullets. Some have managed to hit my wings, but no critical damage. Gryphus’s planes dived down again, striking another bomber, this time blowing it’s right wing completely off, sending it spinning wildly to the water below. Another one down, and a lot more to go.

Soon, the bombers started to steer in different directions, some narrowly missing each other from a mid-air collision as they lost their prized defense: their formation.

“Enemy fighter destroyed.” Naya finally spoke, after being silent for a while.

“Good kill. The bombers are breaking formation. Finish them off before they regroup!” I announced to my team, immediately switching to Lead Channel. “All planes, the bombers are breaking. They're becoming disorganized!”

“Good copy. Wonderbolts, finish these bugs off. Let’s wipe them out!”

“Another allied plane has been shot down!” A Mare cried out.

Just as the voice finished crying out, I looked to my rear behind me to gaze at the large furball of fighters that were crowding the airspace. One of them plummeted to the earth in a fireball.

“There’s just so many of them!” Lucky spoke through my right ear.

“All wings, give me a damage report now!” Spitfire ordered in my left ear.

“3 of our planes have been lost. We are currently 6 strong.”

“Dash is also suffering casualties! We lost 4”

“Sapphire lost 2, but we’re still fighting!”

“Avalanche is 4 strong! We lost 2!”

"Garuda!" I heard Spitfire yell in worry.

"No casualties! Still strong!" I answered as fast as I could.

“Keep the pressure on, eventually they’ll break! Garuda, Gryphus, prioritize the bombers if you can.”

“We copy, Garuda confirms 2 more bombers destroyed!”

“They’re changing course…  they're dropping their payload early! looks like they gave up!” Naya spoke up in my right ear. 

Sure enough, I saw the entirety of the bomber formation losing their wits and their weapons, their bombs falling from their bodies. They looked like they were in full retreat. 

“When is the next wave supposed to be here?” N

“15 minutes after the first wave arrived, based on the briefing. They should be here soon.” I answered as I continued to give chase to one of the fleeing bombers. Its gunners opened up, but I was too far away for him to hit me. I kept rolling and banking, doing everything to avoid more damage. As soon as my crosshairs overlapped the bomber, I squeezed the trigger once more, and tracers lit him up like a Hearths Warming Tree. 

Some pieces of metal from the plane began to fall off, as one of its engines was trailing a cloud of thick and dark smoke. I definitely hit something important. I continued to fire, and the whole tail of the Bomber soon broke off, causing the plane to flip spastically in multiple directions.

“Another bomber shot down, I think they’re retreating!” I called out.

“Save the ammo for the second wave. If they’re fleeing, let them run!" Spitfire ordered. 

Over the North-Western Horizon, just a little way beyond the retreating formation, I noticed more black shapes flying towards us. I immediately switched channels again. 

“Garuda 1 to all planes, another formation of Bombers has been spotted. Bearing 310 and heading towards us.”

“Good copy, Dash is moving to intercept.”

“Night Light!" I heard a cry in my right ear. for a moment, my heart skipped a beat as I thought the unthinkable had happened to him.

"I got one on my 6, and I can’t shake him!” Lucky frantically yelled. 

I saw his plane to my right wildly maneuvering through the clouds, hoping to avoid him. But he kept giving chase.

“I’m on it, back to me!” I turned on the yellow smoke under my wings again, signaling to everypony who I was. 

Lucky’s plane steered toward me as he saw my smoke, and was closing in fast. Green tracers were shot from the 109 behind him, almost hitting me. 

“Lucky, when I say so, bank upward - as hard as you can without stalling!”

“Uh, okay then…” Lucky replied with angst. Both of them were getting closer. I couldn’t see the 109 behind him, but I knew exactly where he was. 

“Okay, 3. 2. 1… Break!” 

All at once, I opened fire, and Lucky’s plane hastily climbed upwards. 

The 109 behind couldn’t react in time, as the tracers barely missed Lucky, and struck the 109 where his engine was. 

Before he could collide with me, I banked hard right, barely missing the craft as it turned into a fireball, and started to plunge down to the sea.

“YEEAAHAHAHA! That was good shooting Night Light!” Lucky Bellowed through the radio, as I silently watched the fireball continue to fall. I didn’t see the pilot bail.

“Good kill, Garuda 1! I can confirm that victory!” Lucky cheered again.

“Gryphus to all units, I have a clear visual on the 2nd wave of bombers. There are a lot fewer escorts with them this time.”

“Finally, some good news.” I heard Big say.

“Everypony, we’re almost done here! Engage the bombers at will!” I ordered my squad. I turned to face the bombers head-on, as they continued to close in on the city.

“All enemy bombers from the 1st wave have been destroyed!” Sapphire lead spoke. 

“Spitfire to all planes, it’s time to finish this! Prioritize on the bombers!”

Almost all of the allied planes I saw to my left turned to face the bombers. The others were either chasing a 109 or being chased by a 109. 

The formation looked considerably smaller compared to the others. There was only a small number of 109s escorting them.

“Wonderbolts, let’s focus on the escorts. The rest will deal with the bombers!” 

“Garuda 3 and 4, Prioritize the bombers, and we’ll be done. Give them everything you've got! Garuda 2, shift to support.” I ordered my team once more.

“Affirm on that Garuda 1, we’re moving to engage!” Lucky answered.

“Da, I shall stay behind you.” Naya followed. The formation was getting closer now, about 6 klicks out.

... Then I saw it.

It was subtle at first, enough so to make me mistake it as a trick of the light. But as I got closer, the more I doubted myself. 

It was there and then that I noticed more shapes underneath the bombers. They weren’t clearly visible, but they were clearly there for the mission and nothing else. I saw the black silhouettes of planes I could not recognize. 

There were more of them, forming a V formation following behind the lead plane. 

And they were hiding in the clouds.

“All planes, we more bogey incoming! They’re in the clouds below the bombers!” I yelled in Team Channel.

“Roger that, I see- wait...” Spitfire trailed off.

Almost right on cue, the V formation slowly began to climb, still maintaining formation. I got a good look at them this time. 

They were not 109s. They were some kind of rear propeller-engined plane, with a longer and thinner wingspan. Each plane was painted black, with Red Stripes diagonally covering the wings.

“Oh cyka.” I heard Naya speak, again in her native language.

“Who the fuck are these?” Spitfire asked incredulously.

The planes broke V formation, each of them spewing red trails of smoke from their tails as they flew apart like a firework.

“Who are these guys?!” I heard somepony from Dash call out.

“Alright. Gryphus, Sapphire, and Stratus: focus on these newcomers. The rest of us will take on the bombers.” Spitfire ordered. One by one, allied planes began to break off, chasing these newcomers.

“Who are they?” Naya asked.

“I don’t know. Where did they come from?” Lucky soon joined.

“Nothing we can’t handle!” Big finally reassured. But as more tracers lit up the sky from both sides, the crimson planes were dancing through, above, below, and in between them gracefully without so much as a scratch. Some were flying close enough to the lightning that could be seen through the storm clouds just below.

This was getting needlessly dangerous.

“Sapphire confirms we lost a plane. Fuck, these guys are good!”

“All damaged aircraft return to base, the rest of us push onward!”

I looked back and forth between the bombers and the Ace planes that were currently engaging us. The bombers were much closer, and the Aces seemed to be oblivious to our presence.

“Garuda Team, engage the bombers, we can't let them through!” I called out. I couldn't afford to get distracted, not now. Besides, it wasn't my job to take them on anyway. 

More tracers discharged out of my plane, striking the bomber home. It caught fire on one of its engines, and it’s nose started to tip down. I saw multiple changelings bail. Another one down. 

Naya pulled to my left from behind and started to fire on another bomber. I saw the tracers connect the fuselage, and soon after the whole plane exploded, sending bits of shrapnel and metal flying everywhere. 

I turned hard, avoiding the debris as best I could. The bombers around us were frantically flying in random directions, due to the shockwave of the explosion. 

I tried my best to keep the throttle steady and my plane as fast as I could. It was shaking wildly as I was trying to level out, doing my best not to lose speed.

“Got one.” That was all Naya said afterward.

“One of our own has been shot down!” one of the Wonderbolts cried out.

“Keep the pressure on, we almost got them!”

“Shit shit, I can’t lose him! 3, switch to support, now!” Sapphire lead frantically ordered. I turned my attention to the bombers once more. I focused on the ones that were the farthest from the formation and picked them off. 

Two more bouts later, they were both shot down. There weren't that many left now.

CLI-CLANG!

"Agh- What the fuck!?" I swore.

As if conjured out of thin air, red tracers were flying over me to my rear, making me jump in my seat as I heard some of them smash into me. Instinctually I inverted and turned down to the ocean.

I looked to my rear, to find one of the Crimson escorts turning their attention towards me. 

Seems they had enough of us shooting down their bombers.

“Naya, I'm in trouble! There’s one on me!” I called out, banking my nose down in a 180 dive.

“I see him, keep evading, I’ll get him!” Naya quickly reassured. I continued to roll around as I descended using my rudder while rolling to make me more agile, yet also took care not to use it too much to throw me into a stall. He must have got me good because it was getting harder and harder to steer this damn thing!

I was flying closer and closer toward the darker clouds below me.

Hoping I would lose him there, I desperately passed through the cloud cover, and instantly my cockpit canopy was littered with droplets of water littering my vision. I turned upwards, trying my best to climb out of the clouds soon afterward as I could feel my aircraft shaking way more violently than it ever had before as I ascended.

I turned behind me, still seeing the escort still giving chase and firing red bullets at me.

But Naya was behind him as well, trying to suppress him with her own barrage of bullets. This plane was amazingly fast and agile. I’ve never seen anything like it before.

“Almost got him…” Naya muttered. I continued to bob and weave through the clouds, trying to stay mobile from other potential planes.

Just then, a fireball of what used to be a plane flew straight down in front of me, barely missing me, making the plane shiver and shake by the near-miss. 

The abrupt shift in my momentum had caused the Crimson Escort to overtake me, faster than I am now. Making me instinctively pull the trigger as he continues to ascend in front of me. 

I saw a few tracers land home directly on the chassis, making it spew some sparks. But it didn’t go down. 

Instead, it waved off, disappearing through the clouds. I gave chase and pulled up after him. I was greeted with the sight of a clear blue sky, and multiple planes above me fighting it out with each other. I followed behind the black smoke and found the Ace still climbing straight up, as I flew even closer.

I gritted my teeth as I fired again, and more tracers began to light up the plane. The Smoke was even darker now. I began to slow down as I climbed straight up, but so was he. He was breaking left, trying to evade me and stall me out. But I was ready.

As soon as his plane flattened out in front of me, I pulled the trigger a final time. The bullets struck flat onto his fuselage, and he caught on fire, finally starting to tip his nose downward. I too stalled out as I followed suit, forcing my plane to dip down to regain speed. I pointed straight down, and I saw the escort's plane spinning like a twister to my right as I flew down toward the clouds. When he was gone, I pulled up and leveled out.

“Escort down!” I called out through the mask, not sure who I was talking to anymore.

“Good kill Night Light.” Naya spoke softly. I saw more planes with missing parts sprawling toward the ocean below.

“All planes, enemies are falling back! It looks like they're all in full retreat. What’s the Status on those bombers?”

“All bombers have been shot down! The sky is clear!” somepony answered soon after.

“Roger, all teams, Casualty report!” Spitfire ordered.

“Sapphire has lost another plane. We’re 3 strong now.”

“Dash, report!”

“4 of ours have been shot down, we are 4 strong.”

“Avalanche, report!”

“We’re 4 strong still, haven't lost another one since the first wave.”

“Stratus, Report!”

Silence.

"... Stratus, report!" Spitfire asked again.

Still silence. Only static was heard.

“Fuck…” Spitfire softly muttered. “Okay, all planes, mission accomplished. Enemy Bombers and Fighters have been neutralized. Let’s go home.”

“Garuda team, regroup on me and form ‘Rarity’.” I softly spoke as I ordered my squad. 

I sat back in my chair, releasing the stick as yellow smoke was trailing behind me, and let out a long sigh of relief. 

I was shaking and tingling all over my body, the adrenaline still rushing through my veins. 

I pulled off the mask, allowing me to breathe clearly again as I turned Southwest. My team one by one began to form up on me. I felt an immense weight on my heart all of a sudden lift off as I realized that the fight was finally over. 

“Wow. I... Just… wow,” I muttered.

“Garuda 1?” Lucky asked. I pulled the mask closer to my face.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just need a breather.” 

We survived.





We were flying beneath the clouds. We barely had enough fuel to make it back to the Blueblood in one piece. By the time we got there, we were almost running on fumes. I counted 6 gallons left when the carrier came into view.

“Garuda 1 to Blueblood, Operation complete, requesting permission to land, over.” there was a moment of squelching static before a tinny voice replied.

“Blueblood to Garuda, permission granted. Start from 1 to 4. Over.” Blueblood replied.

“Roger. Out.” I switched channels. “Garuda team, wait for me to finish landing, then follow behind me one by one, starting from 2 to 4.”

I flew over the carrier, trying to get behind. The other planes were about to show up from the gulf, but they would have to wait for us to finish landing before they could. After accumulating a good distance between me and the runway, I turned around to face the carrier, dropping my landing gear, my flaps, and my hook. I closed in, easing up on the throttle as I got closer before I finally touched down, my Hook instantly catching onto one of the ropes to stopping it in its tracks. 

I saw multiple ponies sprint towards my plane, releasing the hooking mechanism. I then saw the all-clear signal given by one of them as they fled. I taxied the plane closer toward the catapult in the center of the deck.

“Garuda 2, you may now land.” I heard Blueblood control speak.

“Garuda 2, copy that.” Naya spoke. When my plane reached its final destination on the Runway, I killed the engine, making the propeller slow down more and more, until finally, it stopped. I unbuckled myself, and opened the cockpit, finally being able to breathe that salty stormy ocean air. I unplugged the wire from my earmuffs, killing all radio communications as I watched Naya’s plane slowly make its way toward the runway.

I let out another long and heavy sigh as I still sat in the open cockpit of the Fulmar. 

A significant weight sagged my mind and heart. I couldn't help but feel numb from head to hoof as I watched Naya land.





After an hour had passed since all of the squadrons had landed, we were all called to the Mission room for Debriefing. Most of the pilots from this morning were making their way to the lower decks as evening arrived. Upon entering the mission room, everypony sat down in their seats. Some of the seats remained empty. Not everypony made it back alive… 

Unlike this morning, Major Lieutenant Hawk Eyes did not bother with formalities or pictures. By the time we all sat down and trotted into view, he got straight to the point.

“Mission accomplished everypony. All bombers are down, and the escorts are gone with them. The enemy lost about 50 planes in this mission thanks to your efforts.” He paused. “Of course, I am aware that we also suffered some casualties as well. If I read correctly, the report states we lost a total of 15 pilots and planes in this mission." He stopped for a moment, letting the number sink in. 

"This was no walk in the park, especially with the reports of these new ‘Aces’ you encountered. But you pulled through, and because of this, the Las Pegasus Radar Station suffered no damage whatsoever and they thank you for it."

Nopony said anything. They just continued to listen.

"I am aware that the mood is heavy. And... I am aware we lost good friends today." 

He paused for a moment as he rolled out a blackboard with chalk writing. Various graphs of various squadrons were written down. 

... All of the names from Stratus Squadron were stricken off with a bold, horizontal line.

“Tonight, as a reward for your efforts, you are all granted extra rations of your choice in the Cafeteria and leisure for the rest of the day. And rest assured, we will find where these ‘Aces’ came from, and how to better combat them. This information shall be used accordingly. We will not let the deaths of Stratus Squadron be in vain." 

Another heavy silence as several ponies looked to the floor in angst.

"That is all. You are Dismissed.” Hawk concluded.

With that, the ponies one by one stood up and began to walk out, each of them with a look of exhaustion ridden on their face.

A memory suddenly came to me. 

Didn’t Naya say she brought drinks?





The Pilots from the mission now had brighter looks on their faces ever since they sat down to eat, and to let their mind wander. Some were actually even smiling, joking around as they tried to forget what had just transpired. 

Naya, Lucky, Big, and I were sitting at the same table, cups of Vodka in our hooves. Lucky all of the sudden cleared his throat and raised his glass. A few heads noticed and turned to face him. He stuttered a little.

“Uh - Ahem - Everypony, I want to give a toast,” Lucky announced loudly to everyone, as he stood up. “A toast… to our fallen comrades; wherever they are, may they find peace. And a toast to Naya; who if not for her, we wouldn't be sitting here with drinks in our hooves.”

He raised his glass. “To our friends in paradise! May Celestia have mercy on their souls.”

Everypony responded with a raise of their own glass. Some even cheered, before greedily drinking it all afterward. 

Lucky sat back down shortly after. It was bittersweet, at best. But a profound part of me was glad that Lucky did that, finding a way to commemorate the dead.

“Where did you get this stuff? I’ve never drunk anything like this before.” Big asked. 

Yes, thank you Big, get our minds off of this dreary day.

“It is a specialty in my country. Not that hard to acquire either. I figured I would celebrate Labor day like others celebrate it: by getting inebriated!” Naya answered.

“Hear-hear to that. I needed a drink after today.” Bigs added on.

“It’s a shame though, wish I could’ve brought some of my homemade moonshines with me. Then it’ll be a party!” Lucky complained.

“Oh trust me, once you have enough of this bad baby,” Naya pulled out her Vodka bottle with a grin, “You won’t need Whiskey.”

“I'm not usually a heavy drinker,” I muttered. "But for there's a first time for everything, right?"

"That's the spirit! And speaking of spirits," Naya trails off as she pours each of us a glass, "Let us celebrate in spirit with spirits, to our fallen comrades. Shall we?"

"Aye." Big answered for all of us as he downed his glass in one gulp, "Best job I ever had."

"Best job I ever had," Lucky repeated as he followed suit.

The rest of the evening was... awkward. Almost too awkward to bear if it weren't for the fact that we had undergone such an ordeal mere hours earlier. Lucky tried to pass the time with small talk, usually about what sort of mischief he would get into in his youth.

I, on the other hoof, found myself to be quiet exhausted by the end of it all. I was starting to nod off at the table when I realized it was time for me to sleep.

“I need to head back to my bunk. I’ve been having trouble falling asleep lately, and hopefully this drink will do it for me.” I groggily announced.

“You sure you don’t want to stick around? There's still plenty left.” Naya slurred subtly.

“No, it's okay, you three have fun. I need to sleep.”

“Well, then... be seeing you, Night Light,” Lucky called out as I turned to leave. I made my way back to the Bunk Hall and found a random empty cot. 

I walked in, dead tired from the whole ordeal earlier today, and collapsed onto the bunk. A wave of exhaustion crashed over me, overlapping the warm buzz of the alcohol. It didn't take long for sleep to take hold of me.
> (A2) - Chapter 1: Alive [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 2, Chapter 1: Alive



“You have to be grateful! For us! For those who didn't make it!”







Night Light


“So you found an air wing filled with Aces in that one mission. How was that supposed to help you figure out what the Aigaion was?” Grim asked, clearly impatient with me starting where I did. He didn't know it; of course not. I had to lead it up from the beginning, all the way to the end of it all. If it was all going to make sense in the end, he had to understand everything.

“Be patient with me, I’m trying to make you understand the bigger picture here.” I replied back calmly. An hour or so has passed by since I began recalling my war. The sky didn’t seem to change, but a couple of shadows in the distance that I saw through the window seemed to have shifted.

“I knew those planes were not ordinary from the start. At first, I thought it was nothing. Just like I said, a group of Aces just assigned as escorts for those bombers. It happens. But then it happened again. And again. And again, in each of my Major Missions. I didn’t know where they were coming from, but they were the same each time: Black with Red Stripes, Propeller on the back, with Thinner and Longer Wings. I was beginning to notice a pattern in all of them though.”

“What kind of pattern?” Grim asked.

“Well... a few things. First: they would constantly return again to face us whenever we were on a sortie, even after the rare occasions that we've managed to shoot all of them down. They were like phoenixes, they would just keep coming back. And Second: I would eventually learn later on that these 'Strigons' - as they were called - were the only ones suitable to the Aigaion's needs.”

"Needs? What do you mean by that?"

I paused for a brief moment, trying to piece together the rambling thoughts in my head. So many ways to explain, yet I could not remember everything at the top of my head. I wanted to keep this as brief as I could.

"The Aigaion was... Unorthodox." 

"That doesn't help me understand what this Aigaion is, and that is all I am asking of you. Quit stalling.”

“I’m getting there, bare with me." I took a breath. "Ponies recognized what happened over Mead Lake, and also acknowledged the appearance of the Strigon Squadron. Rumors began to spread among the ranks. At first, it was the usual small talk between pilots and other ponies. Everyone thought that it was just a one-time encounter that would inevitably die out, like a flickering flame. But more and more sightings of these Strigons began to pile up, and High Command couldn't ignore their efficiency. Even though they were a formidable threat, High Command issued a grand order to the airforce: Maintain Air Superiority. The reason for their rashness was that something big was about to happen.”

“What happened?”

“Operation: Ursa. That's what happened.”

Grim stopped for a moment, and carefully grabbed one of the Documents that still laid out before the table, reading it silently for a while. “... Participated in multiple Land Operations, including Battle Axe, Ursa, and Condor.” Grim finally read aloud.

“It’s true. All of it is true.” I spoke soon after, breaking the silence. Grim continued to read the Documents.

“... What happened in Ursa, then?”

I paused for a moment, my ears wilting. "... It's where everything went to Tartarus."






May 28th, 1012. 19:39 CST


I stood atop the wing of one of the newly acquired Seafires my Team had been upgraded with. Each of us was called down to the Hanger Bay to inspect the new aircraft. It was chromatic in paint, and it had a recent revision of the decor as well. The Celestial Suns that were on the tips of the wings were neatly painted and placed on each wing. There was also one located in the middle of the fuselage. The Rudders and Elevators were painted Sky Blue, while the rest of the tail was still chromatic. But the real noticeable difference that I saw was the new Insignia painted beneath the cockpit canopy. It was supposedly the new Emblem for our Squadron: a Blue Eagle, stretching its wings and talons out while flying beside three crimson-tinted stars. 

Big Mouth (who gained the new and more convenient Nickname of ‘Bigs’) gave a loud, appreciative whistle. Each of my Squadmates was eager to see their new toys, but now they were enthralled with what they saw.

“This is what the Princess herself could use to shoot somebody.” Bigs softly muttered while the rest of us were marveling at our new planes.

“It’s just been Commissioned last month out of development. New 20-millimeter cannons with a more powerful and durable Engine, and much faster turning time. It’s Perfect.” Hawk said with a matter-of-factly tone. Naya was trailing a hoof along the edges of the wingtips. The 20 Mil barrels were poking out from the center of the thin wings, looking intimidating even when stationary.

“I think I just found myself a new damsel,” said Lucky. He was laying belly side atop the wing of his aircraft, looking at the propellers with a certain sense of giddiness.

“It’s certainly better than our old planes, that’s for sure,” I agreed. 

“From 7 Mil' machine guns to 20 Mil' Cannons. Lovely.” Naya gazed closely at the thicker barrels sticking off the front of his wings. “This could shred a Plane in seconds if used right.” 

“It’s Beautiful... I could marry it.” Bigs muttered again.

“Don’t drool on them please... and I don't think we can marry inanimate objects,” I spoke toward Bigs, who didn't seem to hear me as he was busy kissing the cockpit. “Didn’t you say there was something else you wished to show us, sir?” I turned around and asked Hawk.

“We have new orders from High Command. The fleet was ordered to trail along the Coastline assisting our units on the ground during Frontline Combat. A Major offensive is about to begin, and we’re participating in it.”

“Sir, if I may, what exactly is happening in this Operation?”

“When the time comes, we will explain everything during the briefing. But we still have some time ahead of us, so don’t get excited just yet.”

“Not excited sir, just curious,” I replied.

“Well, your curiosity will stay piqued until I say. And I would prefer if you to leave it at that, Corporal Night Light.”

My recent promotion happened just last week. I was now fully qualified to lead a squadron now, At least in an official standpoint. Mentally though, I felt confused and scared. I tried my best to hide that, though. Spitfire was Major Sergeant, as I also learned last week, so it looked like I was climbing up the ranks. But I had no interest in pursuing military rankings. It wasn’t who I was. I was not meant to be a soldier, nor did I want to.

Then again, Fate has proved me wrong once already.

“This is all I wanted to show you. You may return to your previous duties now.” Hawk spoke, to which I saluted, and my Squad followed behind me as we made our way up to Floor A.

“We’ll finally be able to see the frontlines… I’ve always wondered what they were like. I imagine that they are no doubt hellish, but I’ve always wanted to see for myself.” Naya spoke to us, as we trailed along through Hanger Bay.

“I heard stories of the Frontlines. One time, I heard about something called the ‘Shire Offensive’. Where the Changelings attempted to cross the River but met Brutal and very stiff resistance. Over 40,000 dead I believe.” Lucky softly spoke.

We were all silent after that, pondering the staggeringly high numbers. A grave, sorrowful silence filled the air.

“... Let’s just all agree that the Frontlines is a Shithole, and leave it at that.” Bigs finally spoke. We all nodded. No words were necessary.

We made our way to the Cafeteria just in time for the chefs to be serving out dinner (which was Chili. Despite me eating mostly hay and fruits/veggies all my life, I found that Chili was much more filling. I didn't like the way it slid in my throat, though.) We got in line and waited for our turn to get the bowls of food, and sat down in one of the 4-stooled tables, and ate together. 

As we were munching on our meals, A thought came to my mind: What if Sunshine was near the Coastline’s Front? It seemed like an impossible chance, but a part of me clung to that chance. Maybe I could be her Guardian in the Sky. I knew it was only wishful thinking, but I had to hold on to something. Otherwise, I only feel like I'm just blindly following orders, until my probable death may occur. If not for Sunshine, then what other motivation do I have to fight for?

... I looked around at the table I was sitting at, noticing my squad happily eating their meals. Safe and Sound... Me among them. And even after about a monther later, the memories of that skirmish over the gulf were fresh on my mind. The fact I am sitting here thinking about it now was because of my squad... they looked after one another, despite each other's obvious differences.

Maybe... Maybe that was worth fighting for. I clinked my spoon twice on the bowl, using a wing. They each looked to me.

“So… Everypony." I started, pathetically. "I want to make something clear for all of us.” I spoke low enough to mask our conversation amongst the chattering ambiance within our mess hall. Each of them looked up at me, looking puzzled. “The last few weeks have been… uh, Chaotic. To say the least. A-And... I know we’ve been through some great ordeals together… So I just..." I paused for a moment, suddenly feeling... something. Some form of amalgamated emotion of sadness and fear. I took a deep breath. "I just want to say: Thank you.”

My friends each had a look of confusion in their face.

“Whatever for, Night Light?” Naya asked.

“For being the Ponies in my team. I-I... couldn’t have asked for a better set of characters for this shitty performance that we found ourselves in other than you three, so… thank you. For being with me.”

They didn’t reply at first. They just continued to look at me with odd looks on their faces. 

“Well... not like we really had a choice." Lucky began. "We were assigned as your squadmates for these missions since Pegasi Gulf. But, for what it’s worth, I’d say your a damn good leader, Night Light. And a damn good Pilot too.”

“Aye. And it ain't so bad flying with you. The only real shitfest I can remember with you was the sortie over the Gulf, but it was a good shitfest. We made it out at least.” Bigs complimented, surprisingly lighthearted for a pony with his kind of vocabulary.

"Well, at least we're not flying directly over where all of the real action is. So I'd say it could be a lot worse." Naya wryly joked.

"A drink is a drink, is a drink. If it ain't got no liquor, I won't lick her! That's a common saying to the bars and pubs in my hometown." Bigs bragged, earning a defeated shaking of the head from Naya.

... I couldn't quite explain it. But... I explicitly noticed that each of them spoke genuinely and honestly. Each of them - in an ephemeral moment in time - revealed something about them to me: No matter how different we were comparatively, we each held the same shared trauma. And that alone made us bond more than any other pony (besides Sunshine,) that I had ever opened up to in my life.

They were my friends, pure and simple. And with that, I couldn't help but smile at each of them.

“... We will survive." I firmly said. "I don’t care what other ponies say, and I don’t care what is thrown at us - I will personly make sure that we will all survive.” I placed one of my hooves in the middle of the table. "I promise you."

Each of them looked hesitant... but one by one, they planted their hoof on mine in the middle of the table. We all looked at each other and nodded proudly. The Red coated Pegasus ‘Naya’, the Brown colored Earth Pony ‘Bigs’, and the Green coated Pegasus ‘Lucky’. And finally… Me. All of us were on this journey. 

And it was going to be the most dangerous journey we would ever face in our lives.





Later that same night, I couldn’t sleep again. I was shifting in my cot, flailing around in the bunk. But I could not force my brain to shut down. I was still awake. And it still sucked just as bad as before. After about an hour or so of tossing and turning, I was starting to feel frustrated.

Memories of the engagement over the Gulf would not leave my mind. I kept remembering seeing the burning corpses falling out of the bombers, one by one. Even as foreign invaders in our homeland, I could not shake the feeling of guilt that washed over me. I hated it. Every bit of fiber in my being longed to be out of this war.

Yet I was trapped.

I started to think about Sunshine… and how she must be feeling about being on the frontline. I could not stop shaking now. I didn’t know what I would do if I lost her. She was all I was fighting for. If I lost her, but I survived, what was the point? 

She was my world to me. And now, I might never see her again. I felt tears pricking my eyes.

I wanted to feel her embrace again. I wanted her to tell me that everything was going to be alright. But she wasn’t here. She was risking her life for me, and I was risking my life for her. And no matter how many times I think about her every day... I'm always petrified. Terrified that in the end, one of us might not survive no matter how hard we tried.

Or worse; that both of us would perish.

I didn’t want to believe that. I wanted to assure myself and to Sunshine in any way that I will survive. And she will too. But she hasn’t responded to the letter I sent her all those months ago. I was starting to get anxious. And there was nothing I could do to help it! Never in my life have I ever felt so helpless.

“You can't sleep either?” Naya spoke in her cot above me.

“You’re still awake?” I sighed, dragging a hoof across my eyes in annoyance.

“Of course. Haven’t we established that I have a hard time sleeping on this ship? I’m sure you remember.”

“I do," I answered. "I’m just not in the mood for talking right now.” 

“Might I ask why?” Naya asked.

I paused. "... Do you really wanna know, or are you just trying to pass the time?"

"Can't it be both? Does it have to be mutually exclusive?"

"... Fair." I yawned. “... I’m having memories of Pegasi Gulf. I keep seeing burning bodies bailing out of planes..." I didn't finish. Though I felt queasy inside, I could not for the life of me stop thinking about it.

Naya peeked her head down from the top bunk, looking upside down at me with her curious blue eyes. “You are disturbed by haunting nightmares?” She asked plainly.

“Basically, yes,” I replied. I clutched my head tight with the pillow from the cot, facing away from Naya and laying still. About a minute of silence has passed, and nothing has changed. For a moment, I thought the conversation would end at that. "Nothing you can do about it though."

“I want to help you,” Naya spoke softly, trying to prove me wrong.

“You can’t help me with that. You can’t just make bad memories go away.” I mumbled in my pillow.

“No, that is not what I am saying," she amended, "I am saying..." She didn't go on. There was a brief moment of hesitation in her voice. "... You said you had a loved one, yes?"

... Great. 

Not only was I forced to constantly think about her, but I was also now forced to talk about her. Something I would rather not want to do right now. 

"Uh... yeah?" I answered tentatively.

"And you said you wished... correct?"

I groaned. "Look Naya, don't take this the wrong way, but I do not want to think about that right now. I just want to sleep." I shifted position again and pressed the pillow against my ears even harder now. I forced my mind to try and count sheep.

Naya was silent for a little while at that... But it didn't stop her.

"I want to help you, on your journey. To reunite you with your Beloved.”

... That got me to sit up, turn and look at Naya, who was not on her bunk anymore and was sitting on the floor next to me. I didn’t even hear her drop down from the top bunk.

I glazed my eyes all over here, trying to find some way how and why she was serious.

“... Why?” I asked. “Why would you want to help me, when you have no reason to? Why would you care about somepony else's love life? Why go through all this effort in the first place?” I asked multiple questions, trying to fathom the reasoning behind her decision. In hindsight, it sounded rude to ask her like that. But I couldn't just fathom it. 

She simply gazed at me, emotionless... or perhaps apathetically? I couldn't tell with her half of the time.

“Because You are the only other pony on this ship that makes me feel like I have a chance of survival. And I know Lucky and Bigs feel the same way about you. You are very skilled. And you are kind-hearted by nature, meaning you won’t lead us astray. Instead, you lead us to victory in every mission, and we survive every time. The only reason I want to help you is that…” 

She paused for a moment, silently contemplating to herself for a while as if she was trying to carefully pick the words she wanted to say. 

“... I'm scared."

That made me flinch a little, as I was taken aback at her sudden revelation. Naya? Scared? She's never shown an ounce of fear from the first moment I met her… why now?

“I’m scared of the fact that I would go through all the hardships and troubles of war, and have it all be for nothing. That I would somehow die before I reached the end, like I was in a hoof race and tripped at the finish line. I’m scared of the fact that I will never see the end… but I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.” Naya sat on her haunches in front of me. I looked at her eyes and noticed tears starting to form up in the corners, yet she managed to keep her voice from cracking. “... I’m scared, Night Light. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

I’ve never seen this side of Naya before. She was an entirely different pony, it seemed. She was silently heaving tears, as she hung her head below mine.

“I miss my family. I miss my home. I miss my bed, my friends, my town, my...” she didn’t speak for a brief moment, her ears wilted and retracted. "... My mother...“ I was about to open my mouth to speak, but quickly closed my lips as she talked of her mother. "... She was the only other pony who makes me feel like how you make me feel. She made me feel proud, and accomplished… I don’t want to share the same fate as so many others did already... I don’t want you to share the same fate...” Naya finally concluded as she sagged her head down. "I..." She croaked, unable to continue. She soon starting heaving her shoulders, in dead silence. 

… I didn't know how to react to this. I was confused and lost on what to do... Worst still, her words reminded me of the same situation I found myself in. I wanted so so badly to go back home, yet I couldn't. I wanted so badly to go back to Sunshine... yet I couldn't.

Sunshine... How Naya reminded me of her was bittersweet... yet also somewhat comforting. I gently hopped off the bed and sat down, scooting closer. I soon fully embraced her. She gasped upon me touching her, clearly not expecting the hug.

“I'm sorry.” Was all I said. I didn't really know what else to say. I felt... very melancholic of the situation, yet also sympathetic. I didn't really know how to convey that sort of emotion. I didn't want to start crying though, so I just kept my words short and simple. "I'm sorry" I repeated, gently brushing her mane with a hoof.

She was shaking in my hooves, but she didn’t resist. Slowly, she began to return the Embrace. Then she just... cried. And cried. She kept mumbling incoherently, and I didn't bother trying to interpret any of it. I simply just held her and stroked her mane and back for... I don't know how long exactly, five minutes? Maybe longer?

But she didn't stop. She just kept crying...






November 18th, 1012 11:47 CST


One by one, Pilots were walking into the Mission Room once more, ready for another sortie briefing. As the Chairs began to fill up, I couldn’t help but feel more anxious as I heard the Capital ships outside the Carrier, barely hearable through the thick metal walls, continued to fire away, devastating the landscape next to us. We were about 9 Kilos out from Coastline, Near Mead Resort. Whatever Major offensive that Equestria was launching, it was happening now.

And the ponies around me were more nervous than ever.

Major Lieutenant Hawk Eyes Trotted into view, and the Lights Dimmed again as the Projector flickered to life once more, covering the White Screen in front of us. There were photographs of a desolate landscape near a cliff coastline to the left. To the right of it was the edge of a large lake. It was the frontlines, I assumed.

“Orders have come in from Admiral Cynosura for an Emergency Sortie.” Hawk started. “A Major Air Engagement is taking place as we speak over the Mead Lake Airspace, which is currently in the midst of an Extensive Conflict between the Equestrian, The Communists, and the Crystal Armies against the Changeling Forces.

“At first, the Skies were ours, as we had achieved Air Superiority over the Area prior to the Offensive. However, at about 10:56 hours today, about 3 days after we launched ‘Operation: Ursa’, The Changeling Air Force launched a surprise Air Raid against the ground troops in the midst of a storm, the day where we were not flying our planes in the sky due to Bad Weather.

“But it seems the Changelings don’t care, and have attacked anyway. The frontlines are already halted due to the weather. If any of the Air Units attempt to disrupt our operations, it could be disastrous. In short: This will not be a walk in the park.

“We’ve attempted to thwart the Enemy by sending our planes out from land. But they need our participation in the battle as well, to tip the odds. To compensate for the Bad weather, we’ve deployed a Beaufighter Reconnaissance Craft, which is equipped with a Radar mounted on it’s control panel. They will establish communications, and assist you in battle.”

The air seemed to get more thick and humid by the second. Apprehension was also Ripe as well.

“This may be our chance to finally turn the tides of this war. I wish you all the best of luck. 10 minutes to takeoff. Garuda, Wonderbolts, Gryphus, and Dash will be accompanying this mission. The rest of you are on C.A.P. Duty around the fleet in a 5 Kilometer Radius. Garuda will take off first. Dismissed.”

We all got up, and rushed to the Locker Room, not wasting a second to suit up. As I cracked my locker open, and proceeded to suit up, I began to feel twitchy in my tail and mane. There was an electric feel in the air today, obviously due to the storm currently raging on. It was going to be a difficult task to fly in this weather. We would have to climb above the Cloud Layer.

“Time to get fired up! How many do you think there are?” Lucky asked, while struggling to zip his Heavy Jacket. I brought my goggles this time, I might need them for the rain to stay out of my eyes.

“Judging by the urgency in this Operation, and by Hawk using the words ‘Major Air Engagement’, probably a lot.” Naya answered.

“The More the Merrier.” Bigs spoke as he put his life preserver on. Ponies were hectically dashing around us, as they were struggling to suit up as fast as they could. “More Bugs to stomp, it’ll be like we’re exterminators for a day.”

“At least we have the Radar Craft with us. And that is good, because I do not wish to fly around with rain and lightning without knowing where my enemy is.” I finally spoke up.

“Why did the bugs even try to fly in that weather? That’s suicidal. Hell, we shouldn’t even be flying ourselves, let the rain kill them for us.” Lucky commented, as he finally zipped his Jacket.

“Because our orders were to join the fun. We have planes there already juking it out, and we’re there to join in on all of the action.” I answered for Lucky. He scoffed, and proceeded to put on his Life Preserver vest.

“It will not be an easy feat, though. Mother Nature has made sure of that.” Naya spoke softly.

“Yes, well, if any of the pilots over there are as smart as I hope them to be, they would fight above the storm, not in it. But then again, we are expecting Stukas bombing our guys, so I suppose we won’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Storm or not, I’ll still shoot the fockers down.” Bigs boasted. I chuckled softly, still not getting over how he speaks.

“Garuda Team, Assemble near the Runway! Garuda Team, Assemble near the Runway!” the loudspeakers loudly blared overhead, signalling us to suit up at a much faster pace than before. When I was finished, I looked at my squadmates. Only Naya was finished, Lucky was also struggling with his Life Preserver vest as well, and Bigs was securing all of his nozzles and straps in place. I decided to make my way up to the runway with Naya. the rest will have to catch up when they are finished.

Upon walking out of the Bulkhead door leading outside, I instinctively looked up at the sky, goggles on. The rain was starting to come down, but not as heavily as I initially thought. Maybe we were just outside of the storm. I turned to the Starboard side of the ship, and saw the coastline not too far from us. About 15 Klicks out at least. More darker clouds were forming over the area, as the storm continued to rage over yonder. I saw flashes of thunder, and even a streak of lightning.

“Whatever is happening over there, nature is clearly not happy.” Naya softly muttered to my left, as she was also staring at the storm in the distance. I saw other flashes of light on the ground near the cliffy coast, but those were the signs of battle, not lightning. I can already tell by all of the foreshadowing weather that this was going to be a very Chaotic day and an even more Chaotic mission. At least it was daytime. If this was in the evening, or Celestia forbid at night, I would start to think they are trying to send us to our deaths.

Lucky and Bigs eventually caught up to us, and were also standing near me, admiring the powerful weather in the distance. There was a sense of static in the air. Lightning was definitely apparent.

“Whew... that is quite a lot of rain.” lucky softly commented.

“Quite.” Bigs said.

“We may have no choice but to fly into that, so be ready for anything when we reach the airspace.” I spoke.

“Indeed. It is a ferocious storm.” Naya muttered.

“Garuda Team, Embark your Aircraft! Garuda Team, Embark your Aircraft!” The loudspeakers blared again. We all Galloped, just as we had done before, and embarked our aircraft. We wanted to do this more quickly this time to get out of the rain. I fastened myself in, and powered on the Radio Control Panel as soon as I was connected.

“Garuda 1 to Garuda team, give me a clear sitrep. How is my connection? Over.” I asked.

“We hear you just fine boss, though I don’t know if it’ll stay that way in the storm.”

“Well, we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” I proceeded to set my controls and diagnostics to the appropriate setting, which was different this time considering the new Aircraft we were flying. I powered the engine, which made the propeller spin very rapidly to the point it looked like it was a disc, and set my throttle all the way back, holding the brakes.

“All planes, these Crafts are a little different from the Fulmars we were flying before. Set your Fuel Mix to 97%, and your Radiators to full.”

“Good copy.”

“Garuda 1 to Blueblood control, do we have clearance? Over.”

“Roger Garuda 1, permission granted. You’re Team is clear for takeoff.”

“All planes, we’re on a tight schedule this time. We need to get to the Airspace ASAP, so takeoff as fast as you can.”

“Roger boss.” Lucky answered.

I proceeded to ease my throttle forward, which made me lurch back into my seat a lot quicker this time. The plane accelerated at an extraordinarily fast pace, almost clearing the runway in less than 5 seconds. By the time I was off the Runway, I was already over 250 Kilos in speed. These new engines were good.

“Garuda 2, launching!” I tilted the stick bearing to the north, directly facing the dark clouds at the coastline. I raised my flaps and my landing gear soon after.

“Garuda 3, Launching!” I tilted my head back, and found my Naya’s planes accelerated closer to me, forming on my rear. Lucky’s plane was now off the runway, increasing speed as well.

“Garuda 4, Launching!” Now Bigs plane moved up the runway at a faster pace. He had more space opened to him, and was already lifting off the runway before he ran out of room.

“All Garuda team members launched. Form up on me in ‘Rarity’. Naya, you’re Pink, Lucky is Yellow, and Bigs is Blue.”

“Good copy, merging into formation now.” Lucky responded.

“Blueblood to Garuda 1, Dash will be taking off shortly after you. Proceed to the Combat Airspace due north, and engage any enemies you see. Good Luck. Out.” and with that, he ceased comms. I switched his channel to the new ‘Lead Channel’ that was assigned for this mission. We weren’t flying with our carrier group’s planes, these ponies were from airbases on land. They had different comms channels than we do, to avoid Confusion and Espionage.

“All planes, ascend to 3500, above the storm clouds. I’ll get into contact with the others more efficiently the higher and further away from the storm we are.” I ordered, and tilted my plane’s nose upward, increasing altitude. I eyed my speed gauge, which was actually climbing instead of dropping. These new planes kept getting better and better.

As we were continuing to fly, more and more drops of rain can be seen littering the cockpit canopy. The rain was getting more heavy. We were steadily approaching the cliffs, which were tall, flat white cliffs.

“There they are. The cliffs of Raspberry Cove.” Bigs remarked as we flew over the coast-line. It had a tall white precipice cliffside breaking against the ocean, giving it a unique defense to coastal attacks. It also looked somewhat pretty from the sky, but I didn't have time for sightseeing. I watched as a tiny coastal town pass by underneath me. We continued to climb upward, the rain becoming more and more heavy. It indicated that we were close to the cloud layer by now.

Soon, we passed overhead the large formation of stormclouds, thunder and lightning flashing around us in sporadic bursts. We were at a higher altitude than normal, but it meant we were out of the rain. The Fulmars certainly wouldn't have been able to climb this high and this fast like the Seafire could.

“Wait one, I’ll get in contact with the Recon plane.” I switched to the Lead Channel, and strapped the Aviator mask in place. “Garuda 1 to Long Eye, Rover Crystal. Over.” There was silence for about 15 seconds or so. I spoke again. “Repeat, Long Eye, Rover Crystal. Over.” still no response. I checked my control panel, thinking I was on the wrong frequency. I wasn’t. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t responding. I might be too far still. I changed to my Team Channel.

“I’m getting radio silence from the Recon. We might be too far out still.” I spoke into the mask.

“We’re about 20 klicks. Shouldn’t be too far to be radio silent…” Naya commented.

“Maybe the storm’s interfering with the signal?” Lucky questioned.

“Or maybe it was shot down…” Bigs muttered.

“We’ll find out soon enough, maintain formation and altitude until we reach the combat airspace.” I ordered.

We flew steadily for a solid 5 minutes now. We haven’t seen any other planes in the sky with us. It was blue and sunny above, with the terrible storm below. It felt rather peaceful, come to think of it. Nopony was here but us, and nothing to shoot at us with. We were completely alone in a saturated and colorful sky, the clouds below us masking our sudden appearance to combat airspace.

I took this time to marvel the beauty of the sky during our flight. It was the only time we ever felt at peace. It was this part of the job that I liked about being a pilot - despite all of the obvious negatives. Being a pegasus and all, I’ve always had a love for flying and a fondness for being in the sky. Being in a wartime environment was not what I had in mind when I thought about flying this high into the sky as a filly.

10 minutes have passed now, and I spotted a shape in the far distance, way above us. Several miles higher than us, at least. I believed that was the recon plane. I tried to get in contact again.

“Garuda 1 to Long Eye, Rover Crystal. Do you read? Over.” I spoke into the mask. No answer. More silence, just like before. The plane didn’t change course. “Repeat: Garuda 1 to Long Eye, Rover Crystal! Over.” Still nothing. We were clearly visible above the cloud layer, it was easy for him to see us. Why wasn’t he responding?

“Boss, there’s a plane way up high above. I don’t know if it’s friendly or not though.” Lucky called out.

“I’m trying to get in touch, standby.” I ordered and switched channels again. “Garuda 1 to Long Eye, Rover Crystal! Can you read me? Over.” I asked once again. This time, I was rewarded with static. Not much of an improvement. We flew closer underneath the plane, and I attempted once again to make contact. More static, but it was getting less Garbled. I could make out a couple of indistinct voices.

“-firm our chain o - kzzt - mand! We can- eyoom - track them! There’s - Fszt- !” It was barely understandable. The storm had to have provided some kind of interference. Either that, or we were still too far away. I climbed higher, my Friends following close behind. The static was becoming less concentrated, and soon I could hear clearly again.

“Incoming Message from Long Eye, 30% of Allied air units are already lost. We can’t take much more of this!”

“Where’s Mango 1? Where’s the commander plane?”

“Bug on my tail, fucking shoot him already!”

“Midnight, Shift to attack. He won't let up!”

It was a confusing and chaotic mess of voices fighting for their lives. I could make out only a couple of sentences at a time. Eventually, Another voice came in, silencing all the others.

“All Planes, I’m picking up more spots on Radar, standby for Identification.” Long Eye finally spoke. “It’s coming from the West… I think these are...”

“Long Eye, this is the 28th Fighter Squadron 'Garuda'. We’ve arrived from the Blueblood, and are here for assistance. Requesting Sitrep of the current situation in the combat airspace, over.” I spoke into the mask.

“Long Eye to Garuda, roger that. Enemy currently has Air Superiority at the moment, and our ground units are taking a hell of a beating. Are more of you coming?”

“Affirmative. We aren’t the only ones. The others should be here soon.” 

“Ok, Roger that. The engagement is currently taking place below the storm clouds… you’ll have to fly into it to engage.”

I sighed. Of course, it wasn’t going to be this easy.

“How many planes are we expecting?” I asked.

“Unknown. Reports are sketchy, but there's at least a hundred in total.”

Sweet Celestia… that was an astronomically high number of planes fighting in a single. I momentarily let go of the stick, and stared at the storm clouds below. I didn’t expect it to be at this scale. My hooves felt like they went numb for a second. 

“Your orders, Garuda 1?” Naya asked.

I shook my head. I couldn’t get distracted now, I have to do this. I needed to see the action for myself.

“... Garuda 1 to all planes, follow in behind me and level out as soon as we breach the cloud cover. Keep your throttles back."

"Roger, boss," Lucky responded.

We all dove downward simultaneously towards the dark clouds beneath us. They were speeding closer towards us, as we continued to speed up. I could hear the thunder even inside my cockpit and saw more raindrops litter my canopy as we broke through the cover. Flashes of light were seen all around us, as different streaks of lightning were seen crackling the sky through the thick clumps of cloud.

When we broke through, we were greeted to the sight of a ruined, and barren landscape, filled with mud and rain. Tracers were everywhere, lighting the entire sky and the ground beneath it. I saw multiple explosions all around us litter the atmosphere, as Flak clouds were spotting up the air. The offensive was already underway, as ponies both in the air and on the ground were engaged in desperate combat.

But I noticed a flash of Red and Black zoom out of the corner of my eye. When I turned and look, I saw the same Red and Black plane from the Gulf, giving chase to a Spitfire. The sky was completely filled with them. There was no sight of a regular 109 anywhere.

It was a whole Battalion or two of them.

“Whoa... Are those the same planes we faced over the gulf?” Lucky asked, clearly not expecting the sky to be filled with them.

“Aye… That they are. What are your orders now, Garuda 1?” Bigs asked.

I was shaking more now. I couldn’t do this! This was madness! Hundreds of little monsters in one airspace? how am I supposed to fight against that?! I felt a tingling sensation riddle my spine and mane. Goosebumps were racking all over my body, as I stared at the rained filled sky, and witnessed the carnage in front of me.

There were so many planes... so much was happening all at once that I felt dizzy just looking at it all.

“Your Orders, Garuda 1?” Lucky asked next.

“Night Light, is something wrong?” Naya then piped up, before a flashing streak of lightning covered the sky, barely missing a couple of aircraft from certain death. The storm alone already made this an impossible task. But the amount of aircraft present in the area? It was too much.

“Night Light, you’re Radio Silent. Please respond.” Naya asked again. I couldn’t stop shaking. My breathing was erratic, and I wanted to jump out and hide in one of the clouds. I was so certain this was where I was going to die.

Yet another blinding streak of lightning trailed the sky, this time directly in front of me. The deafening 'BOOM!' of the thunder shook my plane, and made me jump in my seat from the sudden scare. The Lightning was becoming more frequent than usual. 

This almost looked like suicide. It seemed impossible.

When the time comes: Don't think. Just Act.

“Garuda 1, respond! What is going on?” Lucky asked once again.

I was still shaking, and silently watching the battle below. 

Don't think. Just act.

“All planes… It’s time to dive into the fireworks!”






45 minutes later...


I gasped and then wheezed, which sent me into a violent coughing fit.

I sat up, and found myself covered in mud and rain… and a bit of blood.

That was before I noticed the bullet wound on my left wither. The pain was pin pricking my left side. I couldn’t remember how I got the wound. Maybe a stray bullet from one of the planes hit me? I slowly got to my hooves, wincing from the pain. I gazed at my aircraft… or what’s left of it. It was reduced to a burning heap of metal and hardened aluminum. I barely got out in time before it crashed. I was still wheezing from the air being knocked out of me though.

I pulled out my first aid kit, from my vest, and opened the contents. It was relatively basic, containing simple bandages, with morphine, and some alcohol with a cloth. I couldn’t let this wound stay open for long, lest it might get infected. I couldn’t just treat myself now in this rain, the alcohol would wash out. I had to find shelter somehow.

Then reality set in. I was behind enemy lines.

I crash-landed in the worst fucking place on the planet, right now. I was alive, but how long would that last? I had to get away from here before anyone else notice my presence. And I also had to get out of this goddess damned rain!

I landed near the base of a lake. A big one. I was also near a mountain as well. I had to be on the North side of Mead Lake. That must be the Smokey Mountains in front of me then. I looked up towards the sky to the East, finding more aircraft still swerving and circling overhead. Thunderous booms from both the storm and sounds of battle were heard from far away.

I saw another plane, one of ours, trailing yellow smoke behind him, as 2 other planes were neatly following behind him. The lead plane then broke off and proceeded to relentlessly chase after more hostile aircraft. He maneuvered up though, and around the chaos that was still in the sky. One by one, more enemies were shot down by this single plane.

It was Naya. It had to be Naya. The rest of my Team was still alive before I bailed. It’s hard to confirm if they know I am alive or not, however. The air battle looked significantly less intimidating for our side after my team arrived, however. Maybe if I live through this, it’ll work out in the end for us.

Maybe.

I contemplated my options. I couldn’t contact my team. The plane, and the radio in it was… well, not in pristinecondition.

I could try to fly using my wings in this rain to make it back to the other side of the frontline. But, it felt too dangerous. I would be flying for miles, over the entire changeling army. While the offensive was still underway. I didn’t like my chances.

I could attempt to hide and wait for the Equestrian Army to come for me, but I have no clue how long that would take. I couldn’t tell myself if they could get here within a week or within a month. I cannot count on it.

I could still try to hide… at least until the storm’s over. Maybe I could re-evaluate my options then. I was getting cold by standing out here in the downpour anyway. I turned towards the mountains, the only place I could think of where the Changelings won't be able to reach me. I don’t believe the frontline is this far, it should be okay.

I hope.





Contrails littered the sky.

I was spinning rapidly while being chased and giving chase. two planes were both in front and behind me, and neither of them like me. I burst fired the 20 Mils again at the plane in front of me, missing wildly due to the bandit on my six also shooting at me.

At this point, it was getting ridiculous.

“Garuda 2, I got one on my 6 and I can’t lose him! I could use some help.” I ordered through my mask. I kept inverting halfway, then banking in different directions to avoid his fire.

“I’m on him.” She replied hurriedly.

I saw golden tracers wheeze by over me. Naya was also shooting now. I turned my head back and found the bandit breaking off, to avoid Naya. I then turned my attention to the Bogey in front of me and found him trying to wave off to my left. I pursued behind him quickly, turning much faster than him. I fired a burst, and his plane exploded upon impact, turning it to a Fireball plummeting to the ground.

Another Spitfire flew in front of me, barely dodging me, as I saw a bogey on his six, rapidly closing in. I turned instinctively in his flight path, and fired again. It appeared into view spiraling out of control to the ground, missing a wing.

“Our support is here, who did they send us?” A voice from Lead Channel called out.

“Long Eye confirms it’s Garuda, repeat: the Reinforcement Team is Garuda!”

“The Pilots from Blueblood? I thought they were staying overseas?”

“Who cares? We appreciate the assistance, Garuda!”

I leveled out, looking for more targets. “All planes looks like we got an audience for this performance.”

“Then let’s give them a show to remember!” Lucky called out.





I continued to trek my way up the Smokey Mountains for about an hour or so. The downpour was getting less intense, and I saw the fire from my plane wreck eventually burn out, due to the seemingly never-ending rain. I was completely soaked by this point. Mud was stuck to my coat, ruining it’s Lavender color. But at the moment, it was the least of my worries.

The mountains were becoming significantly harder to traverse the higher I got. I was hoping for some kind of shelter, anything really, to get me out of this rain. An old cabin, a cave, or even a large tree. Anything would have sufficed. Instead, I got more rocky terrain.

I found more deadwood along my way up to the top of the Mountain. I collected and stowed it all in the satchel that I had on me, which also held my First Aid Kit. On the off chance that I was gonna have to get crafty in a situation like this, I need all I could get.

I used my wings to hover most of it, but the storm was making it difficult. I wish it would let up already, how long do these things last? I crested over another rocky ridge and found a large hole embedded at the base of a cliff formation. There was nothing else around the entrance, as it was pretty barren. And I doubt nobody would be able to follow me.

A perfect hiding hole.

I galloped towards the cave entrance, finally glad to get out of this awful rain already. Upon entering, I pulled out my mini satchel, and pulled out an unlit torch, and set it beside me. I also pulled out the Deadwood I collected earlier, and also set it next to the torch. I then dug in my pockets, patting myself down for any shapes bulging out. Once I found it, I pulled out the packet of matches. I then gathered all of the Deadwood I could and bound them near the entrance of the cave.

As soon as that was done, I sat down near the torch and grabbed it with my wing. I bit down on the match as I stroke it along the surface of the cave, and carefully lit the torch. I held the flame for a few seconds, until it eventually died out, achieving nothing.

I sighed and spat out the extinguished stick to pull out a new one. I stroke along the cave with my mouth again, and pulled the torch Closer. It steadily burned for another few seconds and then burnt out again, still not succeeding. “Oh for fuck sake!” I sharply muttered as I raised my left hoof up, making me wince from the pain on my bullet wound. Frustratedly, I pulled out another match, stroke the cave again, and attempted to light the torch. After a couple of seconds, it finally caught flame, and the torch was starting to burn. I spat the match away and proceeded to stow my Match pack as I sat up, torch in my wing.

The cave didn’t lead further into the mountain. It was a dead-end that extended on for about 20 Meters or so. There was nowhere to go for me now. I sighed and stared at the campfire. I trotted towards it, as I eased the torch closer to the neatly placed pile of Deadwood. After about 15 seconds of holding the steadily burning torch in place, I noticed a small ember of light emit from the pile, and waved the torch off. It was catching fire now.

I sighed, and sat down against the cave wall near the fire, as the flames grew. I slowly gazed at my wound, knowing that the next few minutes are going to suck. I pulled out the FAK from my satchel and opened its contents. I pulled out the Bandages, the Morphine, and the Alcohol with the cloth. I slowly and steadily opened the alcohol bottle and poured its contents onto the cloth. Then I proceeded to wrap the Bandage around the damp cloth, ready to cover the wound and to be wrapped around my torso quickly.

I grabbed the torch with my wing, and bit on the handle end of it, barely avoiding my face from the flames, and gritted as hard as I could. A cry of pain escaped me, as I slapped the damp cloth on the wound. An overwhelming burning sensation enveloped my side. I felt tears pricking the sides of my eyes, as I continued to wrap the bandages slowly around my torso, and tied it into place, tearing pieces of my flight suit while doing so. The pain still didn’t die down.

I pulled out the morphine syringe, popped open the cap, and jabbed it into my left hoof, almost instantaneously noticing the numbing drowsy effect. Soon the pain will die down. That is 2 of my problems down, and a lot more to go. I fixed my wound, and I am out of the rain. The storm continued to rage onward. I lost sight of the planes, and the sky was soon cleared of aircraft. The battle on the ground continued to rage on in the distance. I didn’t pay attention to it much. I focused on the sounds of fire, and the sounds of the storm.

I felt exhaustion waved over me. I was beginning to warm up from the flames, and feel somewhat at ease.

I was still alive.





Droplets of Oil littered my canopy.

As I gave chase to another bandit, it was trailing black smoke, littering oil it was leaking onto the glass of the cockpit. It obscured a part of my vision, but because we were in the storm, the rain could easily wash it off. The bogey was erratically shaking and twisting, using every trick it could muster to attempt to lose me. I banked hard to continue pursuing him, as he desperately rolled for evasion. It proved to be naught, as I fired more golden bullets at him. The black smoke became even darker after I saw flames licking his plane.

“Another one down.” I called out. At that point, I felt my plane violently vibrate and shake, as Green tracers were flying overhead. I inverted, and turned downward slightly, trying my best not to lose acceleration, and darted my head behind me, finding another bogey on my 6.

“Lucky, shift to support, I got one on my tail.” I turned my nose upwards, still faster than him, and proceeded to climb straight up. He followed behind, and more tracers were wheezing by, as he sprayed with no content. I was steadily losing speed, but so was he. I turned behind me and saw Lucky’s plane chasing after him, as the bastard began to stall out. I quickly tilted the stick to the right before I could stall out, and dove downward. Lucky was firing his guns now, and so was I, striking the same target as his plane began to break apart. When one of his wings completely broke off, I banked hard left, avoiding Lucky’s plane, as he barely missed me while climbing upwards.

“I can’t tell who killed him, but that’s another one down!” Lucky cheered.

“Good shooting Lucky, don’t get cocky. All planes, form up on me above the clouds and regroup! We’re too far apart.” I ordered my squad as I proceeded to climb.

“Okay, roger that!” Bigs responded. I looked behind me to find Lucky’s plane following close behind. I then noticed the light grey smoke my craft was trailing behind. I eyed every single gauge, and found that my Water Cooler was leaking, as it’s temperature was increasing higher than usual. I could still fly, but I had to be careful with my throttle management.

When I broke through the cloud layer, I was greeted with the blue sky and the sun. The mountain peaks were also visible far to the Northeast, as its peaks were poking above the storm, just out of reach. I saw my team slowly form up and fly close behind me.

“All planes, the enemy threat level is down, continue to engage!” Long eye spoke on Lead Channel.

“How? There’s so many of them!” Another voice spoke.

“Garuda Team is assisting you so far, you still have a chance to make something happen. Do not allow the enemy to disrupt our operations.” Long Eye ordered.

“Garuda Copies. We’re diving down now.” I switched to Team Channel. “All planes, dive on me, and prioritize on any bombers or attacker planes you may find.”

“Roger that!” They all replied as we dove into the storm once again.





The rain didn’t die down. I kept staring at my watch most of the time. About four and a half hours passed by. I couldn’t remember exactly what time it was when I got up here. But whatever it was, it is about a half hour past five about now. The torch and the fire that was burning was slowly dying out.

Nothing seemed to follow me, as I stared at the cliff, waiting for something to come… but nothing came. Instead, the downpour of the storm continued to rage down the mountain. A cold breeze was blowing in the cave. The fire was not as roaring as it was before, making the heat emitting from it not as noticeable. I huddled around it for as long as I could. I needed to savor as much of it as I could.

I was completely dry at this point though. I took off my vest, and my heavy coat, and just laid them atop of my satchel neatly near the fire, waiting for them to cool off. About 2 and a half hours since then, I put them back on, now warm and dry. I was not wet anymore either.

I stared out at the entrance of the cave and stood up. My satchel was empty now, after using the FAK. The bullet wound ceased its pain to an even ‘number’ effect. The worst of it was over, at least. I stretched my wings, and hovered in place for a moment, taking a deep breath in, and a deep exhale out. I then bolted out the cave as fast as I could and proceeded to reconnoiter the mountain around me, looking for any dead trees.

After about ten minutes of searching, I gathered more Deadwood than I did on the first round. I found no signs of life near me as I was gathering. Nobody was around me. I was completely alone up here. The sky was still booming with thunder every now and then, but there was no constant hum of Aircraft engines anymore. Distant artillery shells still hammered the ground to the East of me, but it was sporadic and distant.

When I returned to the cave, I was once again soaked to the bone. The bandages managed to stay tied around my wound, at least. I hurried back to the top of the mountain, to my cave. Using my wings to get there, it wasn’t too difficult to accomplish. I made it back inside, still not being followed. The fire was still burning softly. I dumped the firewood to the pile, and proceeded to blow on it softly, to keep it alive. I spent the next 6 minutes constantly blowing into the fire, roaring it back to life, more intense this time. I was finding myself stripping again, to dry my coat and vest once again. I laid the satchel down, and bundled the clothing atop of it neatly, allowing it to dry up again. I huddle near the burning flame, trying to warm up. It proved to be an easier task now, with the bigger fire.

I stared at my watch once again. It was six now. The sky was getting darker. I was going to have to sleep in this cave, if the rain continued at this rate. How long do these storms last? I poked the fire with a stick, moving the dead logs around just a tad. The flame would probably last all night now. Winter had arrived in Equestria, but the snow hasn’t yet. It was cold outside, but only due to the wetness of the rain, and the icy cold wind to go with it. However, the fire was quite a distance away from the cave entrance, meaning the cold wind would not reach us as easily through the fire, if it burned all night.

I waited for about another hour or two. I kept staring at my watch. It was a Quarter ‘till 8. I patted the Jacket, noticing it to be not quite as damp as before, as I equipped it. The Vest, I left it near the wall. It was some kind of armor, better than nothing at least. But for now, I had no need for it. I proceeded to set my satchel down as an improvised pillow, and laid down on it, my back towards the fire keeping me warm. I felt drowsy. The cave surface was uncomfortable, but the morphine from earlier made me a bit tired and fatigued all day. I listened to the flames burning behind me, and soon, I was out.





Bullet holes decorated my wings.

The plane I was in was beginning to slowly deteriorate as the battle continued. My ammo count was low as well, at this point, I’d have to RTB for repairs and refuel.

… If I make it.

I danced around the flak guns that were firing the sky, aiming at me. The tracers were slowly soaring towards me, as I easily dodged it. I tailed after another group of Stukas that were 5 Klicks out from the frontline, and proceeded to softly squeeze the trigger in quick bursts this time, sending tracers striking the tails and fuselages. One caught on fire, two lost their wings, 2 lost their tails, and the last one simply exploded upon contact. The whole squadron was gone, but not before their gunners managed to plug more holes in my craft.

If this battle keeps up, it’s not going to last long for me.

“Garuda 1, you looked badly damaged. Are you alright?” Naya asked.

“I’m fine, it’s just my plane that’s hurt. Not me. I can still fight though. I just need to be careful.”

“Garuda team, more Stukas incoming from the Smokey Mountains. Intercept them!” Long Eye ordered.

“Roger, we’re moving now! Garuda Team, on me; we got more Junkers to take down!”

“Good, I always hated that damn Siren they’ve got on them!” Lucky commented.

We turned towards the North Westish, more leaned towards North. We spotted the Dive Bombers not too long afterwards. I turned behind me to find aircraft on my tail, only it was my Team’s and not enemy. The Air Battle continued to rage farther behind us though. I could see black clouds of AA Flak fire litter the sky.

“We got a visual on the Stukas. Garuda Team, Engage!” I ordered.

“Roger. Firing now!”






Morning


I woke up to not hearing anything, but birds singing. The fire was extinguished completely, and I heard no more rain from outside. I slowly sat up, still tired even after sleep. The sounds were somewhat peaceful, and I couldn’t hear any gunfire in the distance. Everything was eerily quiet.

I made my way outside the cave, no longer under the threat of constant rain by the storm. There was a lot of morning dew though, I could only imagine how much after a storm like last night. The sky was no longer a depressing grey of rain clouds, but instead looking like white fluffy balls of cotton. The sun was shining down in between a gap of clouds, and the landscape beneath the mountain was a lot more clearly visible.

The Giant Lake that was Mead Lake was now visible from up here. I could also see the battlefield from yesterday next to it, towards the East. It was a muddy, barren landscape, slowly deteriorating from the war that caused it. There were trench lines, massive craters, wrecks of metal tanks that were silently rusting away. It was marred and burned, housing no fauna whatsoever.

It looked like Tartarus invaded Equestria. It was a barren, hellish battlefield

There were no signs of combat. The guns on both sides of the frontlines were silent. No battle was going on, whatever happened yesterday changed that apparently. I needed to find a way back on my side of the front. As long as I am still out here, I was never safe. I could hide more maybe, but who knows how long that would remain effective before the Changelings find me? I couldn’t risk it. I have to escape.

I veered towards the edge of the small cliff I stood near, and scanned the immediate area below the mountain. Still no signs of life. I looked up at the clouds and the sky. No signs of AA fire, or aircraft. Everything around me, for once, was at peace. I closed my eyes, and basked in its silence, knowing that it wasn't going to last much longer and that I wasn’t going to get another chance to enjoy it for a long while.

I sat down near the cliff, staring at the wide-open terrain beneath the mountain, contemplating and analyzing my situation. I wasn’t found, by anyone it seems. No pony knows I am alive, or where I am. I had to change that. I can’t hope for a rescue party, that is not happening. But I’ll be damned if I’m dying out here, by myself!

I considered my options. I could hoof it down the mountain, and sneak my way past no pony’s land across to my frontline, but it was just screaming ‘bad idea’ all over. It was too simple, and I could very easily be spotted and killed if not careful. Plus, who’s to say that the ponies won’t shoot me anyway? What if they got the impression that I was a changeling spy, trying to infiltrate their ranks? I would be executed on the spot before I got across no pony’s land. I had to find another way.

I looked toward the mountains. I couldn’t go back up. It leads to nowhere safe. A dead-end, practically. And there was certainly NO WAY I was going further West. That was a death sentence. I looked towards the sea. I could probably fly over the ocean, and find the Blueblood. But of course, I have no idea where they could be. In the last 24 hours, they could’ve gone anywhere. It would be hopeless to attempt to track them down.

Dammit, this was getting me nowhere! Everywhere I considered going, it was either death or worse. There had to be something I could do! I looked towards the scarred battlefield again. The colossal clouds were casting shadows across the marred landscape.

Clouds…

Finally, I had an idea.





A crack obscured the cockpit glass.

A stray bullet had managed to strike the front glass plane of the canopy. Thankfully, the glass was bulletproof, but the crack was still there, blocking half of my line of sight from the front. I was currently dodging and weaving against another Stuka as I gave chase, it’s rear gunner desperately trying to fend me off as I returned fire. The tracers struck the fuselage and tail consistently, making it violently shake and vibrate upon impact. More tracers landed in the cockpit, and soon the Stuka’s nose started to slowly tip down, it’s siren blaring away as it descended. I must’ve killed the pilot.

I turned my attention to the last Stuka of the formation, and proceeded to fire away, delivering more golden tracers of death to the enemy. The plane began to break apart easily, and soon it’s tail was completely detached off, sending the Stuka flipping in multiple directions as it plummeted to the ground below.

“Stuka squadron wiped out!” I called out over Lead channel. “Garuda Team, continue the attack. Wipe them from our-” I was cut off as I heard sounds of scraping and broken metal break off of my plane. I darted my head behind me, and saw two enemy planes chasing me. I Banked hard in their blind spot, and turned to evade, not keeping my eyes off of them while doing so. When they inverted again to chase me, I pulled up hard on the stick, trying to get over them.

I climbed above them, and they pulled up from under me to stay on my tail. I saw one of them speeding ahead of me, about to surpass. I continued to slow down, and maneuvered away from the bullets they were constantly sending out to me. One of them was too fast for me, and was soon surpassing over my plane, and into my crosshairs. I fired, and another plane bites the dust. The second one was still on my six. I inverted downward and dived, to gain more speed after defending against the first one. I rolled smoothly as I dove, to try to make myself as difficult of a target as possible. He was still stuck to my tail though, and more bullets struck my craft.

“Fuck, he’s good…” I muttered, as I inverted and pulled up in his blind spot, but he was quicker. He could roll faster than I could, and he pursued me relentlessly. I lowered the throttle as I pulled up, and trimmed the elevators slightly upward, to give myself any kind of edge I could accumulate against him. I still didn’t lose him. I was flying low over the giant lake heading northbound. I pulled my nose upward, and attempted to stall him out. I was rapidly losing speed now, as he was closing the gap between us. I would only get a small window if I timed this right, so I needed to make it count. I darted my head back behind me multiple times, left right left right, constantly checking if he was getting closer. He was about 20 meters or so now. One good burst from him could finish me off. I had to make this count.

His speed was proving to be his downfall, as he gently soared overhead. I saw writing on the bottom of his plane, and an emblem of a cloaked Pony (or Changeling) holding a scythe. The inscription beneath the emblem read: ‘Strigon’. He was ahead of me now, trying to climb upward to avoid my fire. My plane turned faster though, and eventually the sights glazed over his craft.

Click.

I squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. Click. Still nothing. At that point, a terrifyingly chilly thought set in: 

I was out of ammo.

“Fuck!” I yelled aloud, as I waved off, diving downward to hide from the plane that was now circling in front of me, trying to give chase again. I inverted my nose downward, gaining more speed as I descended, and pulled up again.

“Garuda 1, he’s on your tail!” Naya called out.

“I know!” I yelled back into the mask, as I pulled up away from the ground. “Naya, shift to-” I was cut off as more tracers struck my craft. The ground was getting closer. I pulled up the stick to evade. Nothing happened. I pulled the stick again. Still nothing. At that point, time seemed to slow down. I lost control of my craft, I was out of ammo, I was being chased by another plane, and I was hastily descending to the ground below me.

I was fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” I yelled in fear over and over again, as I shakily tried to unbuckle myself. I opened the cockpit canopy, instantly feeling sharp painful pricks of rain strike my face, and stretched my wings out. The ground was getting closer. I saw black smoke behind my plane, as it spun wildly.

“NIGHT LIGHT, BAIL! BAIL OUT!” Naya screeched over the radio, as I leaped out of the aircraft, and opened my wings, gliding downward very fast. I pulled myself up, but it wasn’t enough. I heard an explosion to my left as I was about to hit the ground.

And then the world went black around me





I was hovering over one of the smaller pieces of cloud, high above the scarred and ruined battlefield. I sat atop of it, as I stared down at our side of the frontline. The gap of land between our fortifications and trenches was completely void of all life. I could see multiple different colored shapes of ponies moving about in our trench line. I continued to fly East, landing on the nearest cloud as I passed over the landscape. Nothing seemed to notice my presence, so I took that as a sign that this plan was somehow working.

I wanted to try to get as far away from the frontline, at least the dangerous part of it, as quickly as possible. As I flew more and more to the East, I felt more at ease than I did before. I was no longer in changeling territory, at least.

I flew over the entire frontline in over an hour or so, and not a single bullet was shot. I didn’t stop though, I needed to find the nearest military airfield, and get back to the Blueblood. I didn’t know if anybody had the idea I was still alive. Probably not, honestly. But I was about to prove them wrong.

I flew over broken clouds for a few hours now. I didn’t stop to see how many. I was traveling all along the coastline, sticking to the ocean as close as possible. Maybe I could find the Blueblood near the coastline, and board it then? Of course, I was never as lucky as I wished to be. After hours of flying over the coast though, I did find something else… and if I was right, there might be somepony else that could help me as well.

Las Pegasus' Skyline was appearing into view now.
> (A2) - Chapter 2: Wake-up call [Revised]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 2, Chapter 2: Wake Up Call



“Back from the dead, and reporting for duty!”







Night Light


“You made it back all the way to Las Pegasus, after flying over the frontlines, crash landing your plane, and after you suffered a bullet wound? All in one day?” Grim asked me as if he wasn’t able to comprehend the insanity of the situation I just described to him.

“I did what I could do, and did what I had to do. And I probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for that. I got lucky. Really lucky.” I answered, thinking back to the plane diving down to the ground, and how I was barely able to get out moments before the crash. I was so close to dying so many times that day, I felt like I was teasing death at that point.

Grim continued to read the several documents laid out on the table, as if trying to find a clue or detail. He still couldn’t comprehend how insane all of this sounded. Honestly, I don’t blame him. If I was told by my future self, before the war started, that all of this would happen, I would’ve thought I was dreaming or something, maybe a mild nightmare. Instead, it was a memory, not a dream. I remember it clear as day.

“So, Las Pegasus... Why go there of all places? Why not return to your ship?”

“It was the only place I could think of that had somepony there who could trust me and possibly help me get back to said ship. I had no clue where the Blueblood was, so that was my next best option. It was the only thing that made sense to me at the time, I didn’t know what else to do. If I headed west, I would be in changeling territory. If I headed North, I'd be going AWOL. So I didn't take any risks and flew East instead. Eventually, I made it to Las Pegasus.”

“You said that somepony was there to help you. Who else was there that could possibly help?” Grim inquired.

“My old Instructor, when I was still in training.”

For another moment, Grim took time to read the documents scattered about before him across the table. He suddenly stopped cold and looked like he saw a Ghost.

“Rainbow Dash?! She was your Drill Sergeant?” Grim Stuttered. I could not help but give a small smirk at his reaction. “You mean to tell me that the legendary Rainbow Dash, Bearer of the Element of Loyalty, was your Drill Sergeant?”

“Yes.” I simply replied. He did not follow suit with any other form of reply for a short while before he frowned.

“What else have you been holding out on me?” Grim asked, eyes slowly narrowing.

“I would care to enlighten you on that question if you could only allow me." I replied with only a hint of smugness. "And in order for you to understand what happened, I must take you through this in chronological order. It is because of this that the identity of Rainbow Dash as my instructor has eluded you. 

"Now, are you going to let me finish what happens next, or are you going to ask more useless questions?”

He looked away for a moment. The room was dead silent, as I could hear his slow breathing. He turned his head back, before speaking in a gravel-like tone. 

“Continue.”

“As I said, I flew to Las Pegasus in the hopes of finding Rainbow Dash. I thought that maybe I could have her help me get back to the Blueblood.” I paused. "... But that didn't work." I concluded.

"Why and how?" Grim pressed.

"It didn't go... particularly as planned."






November 19th 1012. Time unkown.


Las Pegasus. A part of me thought I was never going to see this place again, or at least for a long time, after training. Hard to believe I was back here again, more than a year later. I was currently flying over the northern city limits, which was the ‘cloud district’, as the ponies called it. Large monoliths of reshaped clouds now converted into multiple buildings decorated the sky around me. I was standing atop a smaller puff of cloud as I analyzed the city around me. I could see the Airstrip below me where I stayed during training. 

If she was anywhere in this city, she was there.

I took a breather atop that cloud, after flying for so long. I felt exhausted, and pain stung my left side, even with the bandaged wound. I felt exhausted and hurt all over. Stopping on top of a cloud, I took about five minutes to rest for a while.

In the timespan of those five minutes, I took a moment to gently lift open the bandages that covered my wound. It was difficult since my hooves were not great at pulling things. I eventually resorted to using my teeth, gently prying open the red-stained cloth. My Wither has definitely seen better days, but the cleaning and bandaging seemed to have stopped any sort of infection at least. It still looked nasty, though. I unfolded all of the bandages wrapped around my torso and pulled out the FAK from my vest once more. Opening it up, I found one more Syringe of morphine, and one more bundle of Bandages. I decided that since I was already close to Las Pegasus, I would just use them both here and now.

And so, after five minutes of that, I was freshly bandaged and felt somewhat loose on the muscles. I then proceeded to fly Southeast, to the airfield in the sky. The flight took about another five minutes, and as I proceeded to the entrance A pair of Royal Pegasi Guards were standing by the front entrance. As I landed, I was immediately stopped by one of them as he stepped forward.

"Halt! Who are you?"

"Night Light. I need to see Rainbow Dash. She was my drill Sergeant, she should know me.”

They gazed at each other for a while, doubt on their face. “Ok, now I know that’s not true. Why would Rainbow Dash remember you? And why would you want to see her?”

“She was my teacher. You can ask her yourself. Tell her she knows Night Light. She’ll listen.”

“Look, lady, we get you’re a pilot and all, but we can’t let you in without a good reason. And you 'wanting to see Rainbow Dash' is not a good enough reason.” One of them chuckled. “I mean, for all I know, you could be a changeling spy, trying to assassinate her or something. In fact,” one of them leaned closer to me. “Who says you aren’t?”

I sighed, head hanging low. I thought my words carefully for about a minute or so when one of them spoke again. "Just leave, or be prosecuted. Your choice."

... Prosecuted. That word gave me an idea.

“Okay... Look, I get it, you have orders to follow. But I am telling you all the truth." They looked unimpressed. 

"Now, maybe to you, that doesn’t matter. But one of two things is gonna happen because you sent me away: Either one, I get in any way without your permission and get what I want, which is seeing Rainbow Dash. Or two, you could send me away, and pretend this whole encounter never happened - and that is also fine." I lied through my teeth. 

"But if you do send me away, and if Rainbow finds out that two certain Royal Guards didn’t let a pilot under her guidance through when they wanted to see her about something important - after said pilot, who is standing here now, had just survived an exhibition behind enemy lines..." 

Their expressions remained unchanged, but I could see it in the twitch of his eyes: They were definitely afraid of that possibility, no matter how unlikely it would've been.

"Hm, I wonder: what do you think she would say to that? What do you think she would say to you? Because I don’t think she would like that. In fact - dare I say - she may prosecute you two."

The two guards examined me, with conflicting expressions. They did a double-take between me, then each other.

“So let’s make an agreement. For each of us: I stay here, and one of you go find her, and fetch her to me if you’re still hesitant. Or even better, you could just let me in, and I' won't say anything about you two.” I finished and waited for their reply. They gazed at each other again, before slightly nodding, and proceeded to step aside.

“Fine. Go on ahead.” One of them spoke.

“Thank you,” I said to them, gingerly stepping through the gate and inside to the airbase. "I'll be sure to tell Rainbow Dash how well you cooperated." I wryly called back to them.

I noticed not much has changed since the last time I was here, aside from the new and different aircraft in the hangers. But other than that, the rest of the complex remained unchanged for the most part. I could see different groups of ponies frolicking about doing their daily activities, which was either training, maintenance, or test flights. I couldn’t see Rainbow in the midst of it though. She might be inside somewhere, in one of the many buildings. I decided it would be better not to waste my time searching for her without any sense of where she was and decided to ask others who might be more willing to assist me.

One Maintenance Pony guided me towards one of the closed hangers, saying she’s inspecting the new aircraft that had just arrived and gotten into commission. Hanger A2, to be more specific, which was located on the East side of the runway. I looked both ways before crossing and proceeded to make my way to the Hanger. 

Ponies all around me were giving skeptical and curious looks, as they see a muddy and bandaged pilot stroll along the runway. Some even dropped their tools to stare. I couldn’t help but pick up the pace. Soon, I was in front of the large sliding door of the hanger that stood closed. I trotted to a much more smaller door off tot he right of it, and opened it slowly. I was greeted to the sounds of voices echoing off the interior walls. 

There was an aircraft sitting inside, much like the Seafire in design, but different. It had the same shape and guns, but it boasted a different paint job.

Upon entering inside, the voices became clear and I could make out a passing conversation.

“... New Merlin Engines, with 1,720 wing power, a climbing rate of 22.7 Meters per second, 150 gallons of fuel capacity, and a record turning time of 15.8 seconds to do a whole loop. Rainbow, you might call this ‘just another plane’, to me. This is an achievement for the aviation industry.” A stallion spoke.

“I don’t need all the egghead stuff, Doc. What I need to know is if it's ready to fly. We got newcomers who are anxious to get their hooves on the stick, and they need these planes.” I heard Rainbow reply.

“Of course, it can fly. If you would bother to appreciate the finer details of this, I am simply comparing the significant improvements we made from the Hurricane to this. This is a formidable aircraft, one that can counter the Changeling threat.”

“Here’s hoping. There are more and more of them by the day. The sooner we can find some way to implement Air Superiority across Equestria, the better chance we have to win this thing.”

“Wars are not won just in the air, Rainbow. They are fought on the ground. But it is in the air that wars can change. Aircraft nowadays have a chance to change the tide of battle just by one maneuver. The sooner we adapt to it, and the sooner we exploit it, the better.” The Stallion explained.

I trotted slowly around the aircraft, making my way to the voices as I was silently admiring the plane. Soon, I saw Rainbow and an unfamiliar white Unicorn Stallion wearing a Lab Coat coming into view, the Stallion immediately noticing my presence. Rainbow was facing away from me, as she continued to talk.

“We have ponies who are dying on the frontlines left and right because we can’t find a way to properly dive-bomb without CAS planes, or Bombers. Tell me this thing can at least carry a bomb.” 

“It does. And..." he stopped, as his eyes locked onto mine. I then noticed that they - ever so subtly - widened just a tiny bit. "You have a surprise visitor.” The Stallion gazed towards me, rather shocked at my sudden appearance. 

Rainbow sighed. “Dammit Corporal, I said no-” She turned to face me, stopping cold as soon as she caught sight of me. We both stood there, staring at each other for seemingly forever. I held my breath, as Rainbow began to speak. 

“Who are… wait a minute.” She leaned in closer, noticing my Jade Eyes, my Silver Mane, and my Lavender Coat. 

“Night Light?! Is that you?!” She squeaked in astonishment. 

I gave a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of my head with a hoof. “Yeah… I can-” A streak of Cyan flashed in front of me, followed by a large force pushing my chest as I was sent flying a few meters back. The pain was roaring from my left side after the tackle, as some of the bandages started to become looser. Rainbow was standing over me on all four hooves, frowning at me. She squinted her eyes and scanned me all over.

“Look look, I know this is weird... And, I know you probably wondering why I’m here and not at the Blueblood, but I promise it’s not what it-”

Pain.

It shot instantly against my face. The speed of it was so quick I barely had time to register that I was being attacked by Rainbow Dash.

Collapsing on my back, I looked up to see Rainbow standing atop of me.

... Now, I think its important to mention here that: I was a coward. I still am in fact.

Yet despite this, I can safely say at that point that I... I guess you can say, had 'grown acclimated' to the fear I was forced to live with - day in and day out. I had learned to be brave.

The look in Rainbow's eyes, however? It screamed 'murder.' It pierced through my soul with the intent to kill.

I had forgotten my courage. And for a moment, I thought I was staring into the eyes of death incarnate.

Another strong force slammed the side of my head, and I fell unconscious.





I woke up to a splitting headache and searing pain on my left side. My head felt like it was constantly being pierced by a hot wire, skewering my skull. I awoke, only to find myself laying on a hard concrete floor. I stood up, finding myself in a small, monotone grey-walled room, with only one metallic door on one of the walls. There were no beds, no chairs or tables, or windows. Just four walls and a ceiling. A single light bulb was hanging from the ceiling, being the only source of illumination in this room.

“Hello?” I called out weakly, shakily getting on my hooves.

The room started to spin, as my head erupted in piercing pain.

I sat hard on my haunches, clinging to my temples. Groaning, I stared at the door. There was literally nothing else in this room, but me. I peered to my left side, finding my bandages to be more secure and clean. They looked like they were redressed... Again. Somepony else must’ve done that.

I gazed around the room once more, still finding nothing. Slowly this time, I stood on my four hooves. My skull felt like it was being constantly pelted with stones. It actually felt nauseating. 

Memories came back to me one by one. I remember... Being in a hanger and was knocked out by... Something- no, somepony... 

Rainbow Dash! That was it. The Revelation of my former mentor possibly being the one to drag me in here did not do help me feel better about the situation I was in.

There was a soft click emitting in front of me, and a loud groan as the metallic door swung open, revealing the same white Unicorn Stallion that was in the Hanger with Rainbow. He levitated a long rod-shaped object in his telekinetic grasp, with a crystal at the end of it. Some kind of staff?

“Oh, you’re awake.” He spoke, in a more calming and debatable manner. "Good." He closed the door and proceeded to trot toward me, stopping just a few meters in front of my face. "You're probably in pain, aren't you?" He asked, still and quiet. I could only nod. His magic gently set the staff aside leaning against the wall. Then his horn glowed even brighter, as a wave of warm and soothing energy was flowing through me. I suddenly felt lighter in the head, and the pain instantly receded.

"You should feel better now." He spoke again, as his horn glowed softly again. The staff was waved over me, and the crystal began to hum with a soft grey-hued glow. “Hold Still.” He commanded. I felt a wave of vibration resonating me. Then the humming stop, as there was a ‘ping’ noise. The Crystal suddenly blinked green. The white unicorn looked relieved.

“Good. That’s good. You really aren’t one of them.” He spoke slowly.

“What’s going on? Why am I here?” I stared hard at him. “And who are you?”

“Relax, Night Light. I’m not going to harm you. I just needed to make sure you really weren’t a Changeling. Can’t be too careful.” He paused and looked to the side of my head. “And... Sorry about Rainbow Dash. She always acts before thinking like that.”

I rubbed my head softly. “Yeah, I know she does. I was her student once upon a time.” I paused. “Wait. How do you know my name?”

"Rainbow said your name... Before she knocked you unconscious. Perhaps you do not remember." He answered. My mind instinctively wandered back. I do remember her saying that.

"How... How long was I out?"

“Just a couple of hours.” he replied.

"Then can I leave?" Standing up now, I tried to trot towards the door. The Stallion stopped me with a hoof. 

“I wouldn't do that. It is not the wisest course of action, right now. She’s still not convinced.” Doc reasoned.

“Convinced of what?”

“That you are not a Changeling Spy. Simply ‘waving a staff’ around you, as she said, is apparently not enough for her.”

What? Why could she not believe that... Never mind, I shook my head. That wasn't important. "I need to see her."

“You can’t.” he interrupted. “Right now, if you tried to ask Rainbow again, by just waltzing through that door, you’ll set off a chain of events that will ultimately lead to your real death. So do not do that.” he turned back and closed the door behind him. “Right now, I’m trying to make sure you make it through this alive. As long as Rainbow thinks you’re a spy, you’ll never be safe. I’ve tried to convince her otherwise, but it is usually like talking to a brick wall.” 

“I… what’s happening? I'm so confused right now.”

“I’m saving your life, that's what’s happening. And if I am doing that, then that means you owe me." He turned to look at me in the eyes, his expression hardened, "I need your help with something as well.”

He slowly levitated the square spectacles he was wearing, folding them up neatly before stowing it in his coat pocket. “But first, are you alright? The bandages, they are not too tight, are they?” He asked me. I gazed at my left side, now noticing the numbing effects of Morphine in me. I felt slow and groggy. It could've been mine, but it felt really intense. I might've been dosed again as I was unconscious.

“Tired, but I’m fine. Who patched me up?” 

“Well... I did.” 

“You?”

“Yes.” He gazed at the bandaged wound. “After Rainbow knocked you unconscious, I talked some sense into her. I told her I would inspect you while you were out, and see if you were a changeling. Of course, it’s not that simple, but lying to her was the only way to calm her down… and to make sure you weren’t dead.” He blankly spoke. “After that, I took a look at that wound of yours. It was getting close to infection, so redressing your wound was a priority.”

“Thank you. Why would she not just listen to you though? Or me, for that matter? I could’ve explained everything to both of you had she not done that.”

It was then that he sighed a heavy exhale as if he was releasing a great burden from himself. “Night Light, we are at war. We currently live in a world that is locked in conflict all across the planet. At least, where we are, that much is true. Who knows what's happening in Griffonia? Or Zebrica? But I digress. In Equestria, we are fighting against an opponent that has been poisoning our land and killing off our population for their so-called and oh-so-coveted ‘love’. A cruel Irony, if you ask me." He mutters darkly. 

“My point is; do you think you would be just as suspicious as Rainbow was when she first saw you, were you in her hooves?”

It was a bit extreme, but his argument did make sense. Yet the fact that Rainbow would just blatantly refuse to see reason did not make sense to me. 

Why? 

Why wouldn't she just hear me out? 

“I still could've explained everything. You know, talked some sense into her…” I paused for a moment. My mind was connecting the dots. A feeling of dread swelled up in me as I was afraid to ask.

“... And what did you mean earlier when you said you were trying to prevent my ‘Real Death’?” I asked anyway.

“Night Light, everypony thinks you already are dead.” Doc said with a firm tone. 

I stopped cold. My heart sinks to my stomach.

“Wh… What?”

“I remember the Report in my head exactly when I first read it. ‘At 12:54 hours on November 18th, 1012, Night Light was confirmed shot down by a Changeling Aircraft. No witnesses were able to see her bailout of the plane, due to bad weather, thus is assumed KIA.’" he recited. "Night Light, me and Rainbow read that report only about a few hours ago. And as of this moment, you literally just came back from the dead. That’s why Rainbow was suspicious. She thought you were a spy, impersonating a dead mare.” 

I felt a heavy weight sink down in my chest. 

All of my friends think I’m dead.  

“... Does anypony else know?”

“We haven’t sent a letter and a flag home to your mother in a box yet if that’s what you’re saying. But other than that, only Me and Rainbow, and your crew thought you were dead.” He paused, levitated his glasses and put them on. “And it is because of this that you are going to want my help. And it is because you want my help that I need your help.” 

He sat down on his Haunches, sitting in front of me now. “Tell me, does the name ‘Strigon’ sound familiar to you?” He asked. My mind instantly raced back to the last image I saw of the plane I was fighting before crashing. 

That Insignia. That Reaper. 

“Yes. Very much so yes.” I nodded.

“That’s good… because I have a question I think only you can answer.” he cleared his throat. “Are you Garuda 1? Of the 28th Fighter Squadron on the Blueblood?” He asked me.

“How… Who told you that?”

“Nopony did. I have ways of knowing these sorts of things. Anyway, you are Garuda Lead. That means you were there at the multiple Skirmishes and Battles against these ‘Strigons’. You fought against them before. You and your team helped to destroy one of their smaller but deadlier air wings that have caused havoc across Equestria. You apparently killed one of them, and that has made them very upset. 

"Then we heard last night that your team had also destroyed about ten or so of their aircraft during the largest air engagements of the war... Well, I guarantee that you have officially pissed them off. And that they are celebrating themselves for taking you down.” 

He paused to catch his breath. “But now... You’re here, you’re not dead, and hardly anypony else knows of your fate... This is a perfect opportunity for both of us here."

"What kind of opportunity?" I inquired. 

"I want you to do a big favor for me, as a token for me saving your life, and I will help you get back safe and sound. Favor for a favor.” He offered.

“That favor being...?” I asked.

His magic enveloped something from his coat pocket and deftly yoinked it out, holding a small accessory of some kind... It kind of looked like a hearing aid device for the deaf. He then grabs the object in mid-air with a hoof and extends it toward me to inspect.

Doc took a deep breath. “This is something I like to call ‘The Eavesdropper.’ Something a few of the lab ponies made for counterintelligence back where I work. It’s supposed to automatically decrypt and relay enemy communications back to the user, much like a Radar. Only difference is, it can actually translate communications for you. This thing utilizes magical seer crystals on a wide range of frequencies to decipher, track, translate, and relay. 

"Anything the Changelings say in radio communication, you will be able to hear and understand... In almost an instant.”

I stared at this tiny object . It was barely big enough to clip behind my ear. It was so small, but yet it could do so much.

“This is the only working prototype we have of such a device. We tested it extensively and it works just as intended as long as you are in close proximity to the enemy. We were hoping that it would be farther, but our range is limited; about five Kilometers or so, give or take. 

"What I want for you to do is to use it on these ‘Strigons’ during your missions against them. Equip this in your ear to hear in on their communications. My job in my..." He took a long moment to carefully pick his words. "My Department has elected me to pick somepony qualified to use this for its intended purposes so we can monitor its field performance. Thus far, I have not found that pony. 

"... Until now." He locked his eyes on me. "Do you know why I was here in Las Pegasus in the first place? Because this is not where I work at, Night Light."

I shook my head.

"I am here because I was trying to find that somepony, who could help us study this device in the field for the betterment of its intended purposes. I am here because I needed someone to use the Eavesdropper for what it is intended for." He scoffs to himself, as if disgusted. "So far, I saw nothing but green recruits that had barely flown anything in their lives. They would almost certainly lose this tech forever upon being shot down.

"But you?" Doc prodded a hoof at my chest. "I believe you are indispensable for the job. I believe that somepony is you." 

I stared at Doc's stretched-out hoof, holding the delicate item in the palm of his hoof. 

“Why would I want to know what they are saying? I can't even understand their language.” I asked.

“You probably don’t. But we do. This thing is also connected to the one-band frequency that we will use to monitor and record whatever is being heard on the other side. Hence why I am asking you to do it: You would be helping us immensely.”

“So... You want me to hear what they are saying, so you can hear what they are saying?” I gazed at the small object incredulously. 

“Essentially, yes. And as a token for doing so, I’ll help you get back to your friends and the Blueblood with your mortality intact. Do we have a deal?" He asked.

I contemplated his offer for about a minute or so. I cannot say for certain how long I sat there. I didn't really have much of a choice, honestly. It's either me going back to my friends while carrying a piece of plastic or... Celestia only knows what else.

But there was one thing that persistently irked me from the moment he introduced me to the Eavesdropper:

"Why me?"

"... Pardon?"

"Why me?" I repeated in a firm frown. "Why not ask... I don't know, Rainbow Dash, or somepony else far more capable than I am? Why are you asking some random, complete stranger that you had just met to do something so important for you?"

He didn't reply at first. He did a double take on the Eavesdropper in his hoof, and back to me. 

"... Normally, you would be correct in assuming that. Normally, I would try to find somepony far more capable to carry out this tasks. Normally, I don't take such... Risks, like this."

He smiles warmly. "And then I found you."

I cocked my head to the side, one brow raised in skepticism.

"Before I came here, to see if I could find anypony else to take on this herculean task, I had heard skeptical reports and even more skeptical rumors surrounding you, Night Light. About how you are among the only few ponies in existence to shoot down a Strigon. About how you are a remarkably skilled pilot. I was almost certainly going to get in touch with you, one way or another.

"Then I heard you were dead." He paused. His eyes seemed to be eyeing me in disbelief as if he still wasn't sure if I was alive or just a figment of his imagination.

"I have to admit I was rather... Distraught, when I heard the news of your death. Your report of you being shot down over Mead Lake had been quite the setback, and I came here to Las Pegasus, to rectify that.

"And who do I see strolling in, after being reported dead, walking in nonchalantly with a bullet wound as if nothing was wrong?"

I glanced down at the bandages hiding my wound. 

"You may not be the most resourceful of all ponies, nor are you perhaps the most cunning and dangerous. But you are definitely the most resilient of ponies that I had met. And with this in your possession, you will be one step ahead of the enemy. You will be arguably more dangerous than you could ever hope to be, just with this little gadget."

My eyes were glued to the Eavesdropper. It felt wrong. It felt weird. It felt surreal and impossible to consider. 

But I was still alive. I was still willing to get back to the Blueblood. and in his eyes, this perseverance was more than enough to convince him I was the mare for the job.

That did little to ease my worries, as I didn't know if I was convinced. 

Yet... What choice do I have? Say no?

... Something. Something pressed me onward. It was inexplicable, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. But it was as if the very air around me turned static. As if the world itself had stopped moving at that moment in time.

As if the breath of Destiny itself was whispering in my ear, beckoning me forward. 

"... You give me too much credit," I muttered I as grabbed the device. "But alright. I'll do it." I reluctantly accepted. 

It felt virtually weightless and easy to conceal. Such a seemingly insignificant thing, and yet... So much it can do. 

Doc gave no reaction to my acceptance, which was a little unnerving.

"Now in order for this to work, everypony must think you're dead for a little while longer. I need you to wait here for me, I’ll be back.” He turned and trotted towards the door, and proceeded to leave through the door, leaving me alone again. 

I noticed a patch embroidered on the left shoulder of the coat. A blank face, with a very wide smile. 

The smile disturbed me rather than comforted me.

I trotted towards one of the walls, and sat against it, counting little sheep in my head doing so. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. A Hundred. I was starting to lose count. I had absolutely nothing on me, or in this room with me, to do anything. I was confined in a monotone square box and was starting to feel claustrophobic. Two Hundred Sheep. Three Hundred.

The door clicked, and groaned open once more, revealing the same Unicorn whose name I still don’t know. He had two things in his telekinetic grasp. A Large Bag, and a Gun. The Gun, in particular, looked different. It was some kind of specially shaped pistol, from what I could tell. I shifted back against the wall, clearly skeptical of what the gun was for.

“Alright, I know you’re not going to like the plan I have in store for you, so I’ll just go ahead and do it and tell you what to do instead of wasting time arguing about it. You’re going to wake up and find yourself in an aircraft hanger. Inside that is a plane I’ve assigned you to fly back to your carrier. And inside that plane will be coordinates, informing you on where the Blueblood should be at a designated time frame. Be there at the designated timestamp. Don’t ask how I got the plane, just take it and go.” He paused and lifted the gun towards me. “And sorry for what happens next.”

“Wha-” I could barely get a word out before a soft ‘pew’ noise emitted from the pistol, firing a painful syringe on my right side. I gave a yelp in pain and wanted to curse him, but instead felt an enormous wave of exhaustion crash over me. It was almost blissful. Soon, I was unconscious again






Early Morning


I was starting to get tired of waking up in random places in pain, and by the hooves of ponies who I thought would help me, no less.

I rubbed my mane again as I sat up, and found myself in a darker, but larger room this time. I was staring at a tool bench fixated against the wall.

“You’re awake.” I heard a mare’s voice behind me. I turned to look, only to find a plane parked in front of me… and a griffon laying atop of it.

“You’re a heavy sleeper,” she spoke casually.

“Ow,” I muttered as another headache invaded my skull. “Why does everyone knock me unconscious? It’s annoying.”

“Rainbow did it ‘cause she thought you were a spy. Doc did it ‘cause it’s how he moves things. And ponies, apparently.” she scanned me all over. “But anyway, I did my job, you’re awake, and I can go now. Here,” she tossed a metallic ring with dangling objects attached to it to the ground in front of me. I picked it up, finding multiple Keys attached to it. “Big Blue one opens the Hanger doors. Smallest Key is the key to the plane. And the ‘Blueblood’, as Doc said, is in the plane seat. Enjoy.” She opened her larger fur wings and proceeded to slowly hover towards a large hole in the ceiling, revealing the stars in the night sky.

“Thanks, I guess.” I spoke. She turned to face me, confusion wracked on her face. 

“For what?”

“For watching me. And carrying me. And helping me... For everything really.” 

She shrugged. “Meh, it’s nothing. Doc usually calls in favors like this, and every time he does I get paid, so I don’t complain. If you wanna thank anypony, thank Doc for caring enough to help you.” With that, she turned and flew away to the sky.

I turned to face the large hangar door that was currently closed. To the left of it, hanging against the wall, lied a Red Button with a keyhole underneath. After trotting towards it and inserting the Blue Key, the button blimped green. 

I pressed it, and the door slid open, revealing more of Luna’s beautiful starry night. There was no clouds apparent in the sky, just an abundance of twinkling crystals that decorated the void of the atmosphere, along with a waning moon just off to the northwestern horizon. I was standing in the middle of a dirt runway, made of gravel and tiny pebbles, along with some sand. A derelict airfield. I must be in the San Palomino Desert… or the Badlands. Either way, I was in the middle of nowhere, with no signs of life around me… except myself.

A Coyote howled in the distance, its lonely howl echoing across the barren desert. There were large, some even colossal, Cacti that litter the landscape. Giant Rock Formations, which I assume were ancient, tower over the empty horizon. A humid smell of Sulfur pervaded the air around me. The wind was blowing stray Sand and Dust across the abandoned runway, wherever I was. Sounds of Crickets and Cicadas buzzed all around me.

I felt a sense of overwhelming stillness inside my soul as I basked in the moonlight. Everything was completely still. Not a single Pony, Griffon, Changeling, or otherwise was seen out here. Nothing from the war affected the terrain or the wildlife in any way. It’s as if there was never a war to begin with in the first place. Like it was all just a Nightmare, that felt so real yet distant. You could lose your train of thought and yourself out here… and yet, I feel nothing but peace. 

It was a calming, blissful void of silence, one that seemed to stretch on infinitely. I wanted to stay here forever.

But I can’t. There’s still so much to be done for me, I couldn’t stop now.

I turned back to the Hanger, and trotted towards the plane waiting for me inside. I hovered over the cockpit and grabbed the piece of paper that was laying in the pilot seat. It was a neatly drawn paper map of the southern part of Equestria. I was in the San Palomino desert, just as I first predicted. 

There was an arrow guiding me Northwest, to the Lunar Ocean. Actually, they were specific Coordinates. There was writing etched next to the Arrow. "Be there by 0600 Hours at the given Coordinates.” was all that was written.

Wasting no time I embarked inside and closed the cockpit Canopy. The internal control panel look more or less the same as the Seafires had from the Blueblood, but the exterior is painted differently. It had a forest-like paint job. 

This must’ve been one of the Spitfires that ‘Doc’ was talking about.

I started the engine and waited for the propeller to spin up before slowly easing my throttle forward. The plane gently taxied outside of the Hanger, and I stepped on the right Rudder Pedal to face the runway. When straightened out, I pulled back the throttle and hit the brakes as the plane stopped its movement and faced straight, propeller still spinning. I calibrated the propeller pitch, the Ailerons, Elevators, Flaps, and the Rudder. Guns were on safety still. I didn’t bother to change it, due to the fact that I probably won’t find any planes along the way. But I could always change it when the time does come.

Once I was finished Calibrating, I slid the throttle forward sending the plane speeding along the runway. In less than a minute, I was already ascending in the air. Almost ten seconds flat. Rainbow would’ve been proud of these things, had she seen me flying this.

I ascended to about 800 meters above the ground, and turned the plane Northwest. I checked the clock. It read 4:51. I had to be there by six o' clock. I had over an hour to get there, of which I was confident wouldn't be a problem. The tank wasn't actually fully loaded for this flight, so I couldn't stay up here for more than an hour.

I switched to the Blueblood’s master frequency on the Radio. I was obviously out of range at the time, but I would be ready to respond to his communications when I get close. No doubt they will not be expecting me, so hopefully, nopony shoots me down.

Honestly, considering my luck, they probably would...






Dawn


An hour had passed, and I was already over the location I was supposed to be at. By this time the sun was coming up, and I could see farther ahead of me now. There was a very thin overcast coalescing in the sky today as I continued to fly. 

The still, flat plane of churning water below me was reflecting the dawning light as I soared overhead. There was a sense of tranquility racking over me as I listened to the engine’s constant rumble. Other than that, no other sound was clearly hearable. I also saw nothing but water, cloud, and sky. Not much to listen to, or look at. Still, it was a pretty sight thanks to the sunrise. Intricate, yet simply beautiful.

I kept darting my eyes below me, and around me, eyeing the water for any sight of strange shapes, or silhouettes. Any sign that indicates where the fleet was. The flotilla composition shouldn’t have changed since I last took off from The Blueblood. I didn’t know too much about the other ships. I only caught bits and pieces from the other sailors about a few names: Ursa Minor, Canterlot, Luna, Celestia, Twilight, and Cadance. I couldn’t keep track of all of them. The only ones I knew for certain were The Blueblood, and the Pegasopolis, both of which are Carriers.

More time had passed with me continuing to scan the ocean below me, and still no sign of them. I tipped my nose down, losing altitude, to get a closer inspection of the sea around me. Easing the throttle back as I gained speed, I soon emerged from above the overcast and was now flying low. When I was below 1000 Meters or so, I leveled out and slid the throttle forward again. I did a quick half-roll and stabilized, looking “Below” me through the top of the cockpit. 

Still, no sight of any ships was found.

I was running dangerously low on fuel, and if I didn’t find the fleet soon, I may have to ditch the plane and fly on my own. I had about 8 Gallons left. That’s about under 10 minutes of flying time left in this thing. 

I veered my head left and right, up and down, continuously searching for the Fleet. Hidden away beneath a small break in between two clouds, I had almost missed a strange shape on the ocean surface gliding below me. 

Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was a wake from a moving ship. 

The fleet had to be there.

I descended downward again toward the gap in the clouds, revealing more and more of the wake until finally, a lone Destroyer came into view. Diving even further, descending for a few hundred meters before leveling out, I was then met with more than one ship. 

The fleet had finally come into view, revealing many small and large vessels cruising apart from one another, separating themselves with a large gap. A gap of about a half-kilometer was in between every ship. I saw no aircraft flying around, which was... Odd. 

Because most of the time there would usually be pilots out on C.A.P. (Combat Air Patrol) flying around the fleet for most of the day. The Carriers were located in the middle of this large formation which was shaped into a colossal Diamond shape.

Squelching static emitted from my right earmuff, followed by a stern stallion’s voice. “Attention Unidentified Aircraft, you are violating Equestrian Law and are flying in a Restricted Airspace. State your intention, or divert your course Immediately! Otherwise, we will use deadly force! Over.”

Well, at least they actually tried to talk to me first. That was a good sign for me.

“Might I ask who I am talking to? Over.” I replied.

“That is classified. I will ask again: state your intention, or divert your course. Over.”

“I’m a verified Equestrian Pilot, I am requesting permission to land on the Blueblood.”

“Yeah, that's a hard negative. Only authorized Pilots for the Blueblood are verified to take off and land. And I have no clue who you are. Now Divert your course Immediately!”

“But I am assigned to the Blueblood! I’m from the 28th Fighter Squadron. My name is Night Light! You must have my name on there somewhere!”

There was silence for a long while, and I was worried that I must’ve lost the connection, or that he hung up on me. But about a minute later, he spoke again. 

“Garuda 1… Night Light: Confirmed Killed in Action over Mead Lake.” He responds dryly. “... So you mean to tell me that you just... Came back from the dead? And that I am supposed to believe that?”

Dammit, this isn't working. I had to convince him, and fast! I was running on fumes at this point. “I know its hard to believe, but I am telling the truth!” 

Just at that moment, two planes buzzed overhead. I didn’t even see them coming. They flew side by side until they broke off and turned toward me. Though. I could tell by their sloppy flying. That they were only rookies.

“Right, and I am Princess Cadence from the Crystal Empire." The voice mocks. "Last chance; Divert your course immediately, or we will shoot you down.” The planes behind me were gaining on me, fixing their sights on me. I slowly set my left hoof on the throttle and kept my right on the stick.

All or nothing, now.

“Okay then, I guess I will have to give my ultimatum as well." I bitterly replied. "I have three other ponies on that fucking ship that need to know I am still alive, and for some reason you are making this very difficult for me to even achieve this simple task, so I will just cut to the chase: If you order those planes to shoot me down, and you’ll be forced to send home two more Equestrian Flags, courtesy of me." I growled my last words to emphasize the point.

There was a long pause. He didn't seem to have a response... Or he was busy giving orders to shoot me down. Either way, I chose not to wait for him.

"All I am asking is for permission to land, or else I'm gonna have to ditch this thing in the Ocean. If you try to take me down, I can and will shoot these pilots down. And I don’t want to do that, so put aside your anxiety for just one moment and actually use your brain to think about this!” I paused to catch my breath. 

“There are three Ponies who were with me when they saw me crash, and these are their names: Naya, Big Mouth, and Lucky. Tell them that 'Night Light' wants them to talk to them. And tell them to ask me a question only I would know the answer to.” I paused again.

He hasn’t bothered to speak over me yet, meaning I must be getting to him.

“If you do that, telling them I sent you, they will oblige and will help you prevent a needless tragedy. You have my word on that. The only factor that can change all of that is whether or not you are willing to comply. And if you are really that suspicious of me being a Changeling, then you can always just detain me when I land until you figure that out.” 

The two planes behind me were still gaining and were even closer now. There was nothing but the sound of the engine that filled the air, as tension grew. There was no response from the guy on the radio. I checked my fuel; 4 Gallons. For a few eternally long seconds, I flew straight and unmoving as I eyed the aircraft behind me as my heart continued to thunder in my chest.

... Please don’t make me do this.

More Silence, until finally there was another voice, one I recognized. 

“Night Light?” She spoke spftly.

“Hey, Naya.”

“Wait, excuse me, hold on, let me through here…” there was a lot of background chatter and commotion before I could hear another voice clearly. “Night Light, is that really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me Lucky.”

“Holy shit, it actually is her! Night Light, we-we thought you were dead!” Bigs then spoke.

“Everypony thinks I’m dead, Bigs, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Whew, uh, where do I start? Uh, well, for one, Naya is now Team Lead… er, well, was, now that you’re back.” Lucky casually nickered.

“Not so fast.” the stallion from earlier then spoke again. “I brought you up here to validate whether or not that is actually her, so I order you three to each ask ‘Night Light’ a question that only you would know the answer to.”

“That's all? Shoot, that’s easy!” Lucky interrupted. “Night Light, what's my real name? Y'know, besides 'Lucky?'"

That was easy. “You said your name was Four Leaf. 'Lucky' was just a nickname that stuck."

A few seconds passes by before Lucky spoke again. “Yep, I’m convinced, can we let her down now?”

“No! We haven’t started with the other two yet. You, step toward the mic.” More sounds of ruckus emitted from the tower, before Bigs’ voice could be heard.

“Shit, uh… I never really told her anything that could be used against us, so I don’t know what to say.” more silence, as Bigs must be pondering to himself on what to say. 

“What is my favorite curse word?”

Oh… that was too easy. 

“All of them.” I spoke blankly.

“... Yep, that's right.”

“Oh for the love of- move aside!” the stallion barked again. “You, red Pony, over here!” He must’ve been referring to Naya. 

I could hear indistinct conversations between my team, and several other ponies, before finally it got quiet again. The silence lasted for about a minute or so. 

I checked my fuel, and it read 2 gallons. 

Come on Naya…

Finally, I heard her voice. She was far more timid and quiet than I had ever heard her. “Night Light, I…” her voice was quivering as if she was scared out of her life. She didn’t speak again, she was silent.

“Get on with it!” The Stallion prompted.

“Give her a break, asswipe, she’s distressed!” Lucky snapped.

“Shut it!” he barked back.

More silence. At this point, I was starting to get worried. What was going on with Naya? It was very, very odd for her to be this quiet.

“Night Light, Do you remember when I told you what I was afraid of?”

My body recoiled ever so slightly against my seat upon hearing those words.	

“... Of course I do, but I don't think you want others to hear that, don’t you?”

“To Tartarus with them, I don’t care. Just answer me… what was I afraid of?”

I didn’t respond right away. I sat there pondering what to say, trying to find the right words.

I knew the answer, but I struggled to find a simpler way to convey it. Finally, I cleared my throat and spoke, “You’re afraid of death; Of death without consequence.”

She didn’t reply, so I continued. “You’re afraid of dying when you reach closer to the end. You’re afraid of tripping at the finish line after going through so much turmoil. But most importantly, you’re afraid of failing. Failing your team, and yourself." 

More silence.

"... But Naya? It’s okay... It's not your fault. It’s okay to be afraid.” 

She was still silent.

“... Naya, that battle over mead lake, before we all dove down into the chaos? I was terrified at that moment. I was literally paralyzed with fear, and my limbs couldn’t stop shaking. I was on the verge of a panic attack, and I wanted to do nothing but fly away and hide. But... Then I remember what you told me: that I was the one pony who made you feel safe. That you could survive through anything, so long as you followed my way; The pony to follow when there is no other path to heed."

After the tangent was over, I heard nothing from the radio. I was flying over the entire fleet by this point, the escort fighters still on my tail. They were about 50 meters away from me. Despite the tensions, and the fact that an Unidentified Aircraft was flying overhead, not a single ship opened fire on me.

After a long silence, I heard Naya speak again. 

“It’s her. It’s definitely her. There is no doubt in my mind about that.”

“Yup, I agree. That is definitely her.” Lucky added.

“Yeah, that is something Night Light would definitely say.” Bigs finished.

“So," I interrupted,"Can I land now? I have less than a gallon left in this thing.” I interrupted.

“But this still doesn’t explain how she is alive, even after the crash. For all, we know it could be a changeling trying to infiltrate!”

... Is he serious? Is he actually serious about this right now? 

“And you’re not going to give her a chance to explain? Come on, give the Mare a break, she went through a lot to get to us!” Lucky snapped.

“It doesn’t prove anything! I’m trying to keep this ship, and ultimately the fleet, from being compromised!”

“How would a changeling manage to get a hold of a spitfire then?!”

"How would a pony survive a crash landing in the middle of a warzone?!

“WILL YOU SHUT UP!?”  

Everyone on the line was dead quiet.

“I am about to crash land this damn thing because you cannot make up your goddamn minds! Just let me land already, and I’ll tell you everything I know! Worse case scenario, you have to lock me up; fine, whatever, just as long as I am on board! So I ask again: pretty please - with sugar on top - can I fucking land now?!”

“Yeah, enough’s enough. Just give her permission. Trust me, she’s the real deal.” Lucky responded. There was silence for a while before the stallion cleared his throat and spoke.

“Fine." He muttered darkly. "Alright, fine. I’m giving you permission to land on the Blueblood. But just for the record, if this is a trick, you are dead.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. A useless gesture, given that nobody could actually see it.

3 minutes, and one empty fuel tank later, I had barely managed to land the thing on the Blueblood in time before the engine died. I glided toward the carrier and landed, though it wasn't without grace.

As my aircraft shuddered and screamed against the carrier and as the runway crew sprinted over to help me get out, I collapsed backwards into my seat out of exhaustion.

I was back home.
> (A2) - Chapter 3: Reassurance
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 2, Chapter 3: Reassurance



“No, I’m not defending their Technological Superiority, I’m stating the fucking obvious!”







Night Light



November 20th, 1012. 09:21 CST


It never occurred to me back then, during the storm over mead lake, how incompetent I was at dressing wounds. I figured I did good enough by bandaging it and keeping it clotted. I even cleaned it with alcohol. But it wasn’t enough; the pain was more intense on my left side than ever. Even now, as I was sitting on one of the cots in the ER, I’m still cursing myself for attempting to do something I didn’t even have a cutie mark for: Medicine. Still, if I didn’t do anything, I might’ve been worse off. Maybe even dead.

I was fortunate enough to have other ponies who did know medicine, however. One of the onboard Doctors of the Blueblood, who I remembered going by “Scalpel”, was kind enough to offer to take a look at the bandaged bullet wound. I gladly accepted it, and I made my way to the ER, my team following behind from the control tower.

They sat together in the space next to the cot, while I sat atop it. Scalpel was starting to unwrap the bandages, making me wince in pain with any slight contact near the base of the wound. When he unwrapped it, I was greeted to an ugly sight. The wound I had thought I cleaned was not clean at all. Red streaks were tracing along the hole, with puss coming out. It looked horrid, making my gut churn at the sight of such a nasty injury.

“Did you even try to clean it when you bandaged yourself?” Scalpel asked with a disgruntled tone.

“Yeah… emphasis on tried.” I replied.

Scalpel sighed, as he pulled out (Ironically enough) a scalpel. “There’s no exit wound, meaning the bullet is still lodged in there. And it’s infected. I need to Debride it, so I can clean it and pull the bullet out.”

“Debride? What does that mean?” I looked over at Lucky, Naya, and Bigs, while they were staring at the wound with mixed reactions. Some of Bewilderment, and some of Empathy.

“It means I have to cut it open, so I can clean the wound more thoroughly. When you tried to clean it, you didn’t do a very good job. It’ll also make it easier for me to pull the bullet out.”

“... I’m guessing that’s not going to feel particularly pleasant, is it?”

“Nope, probably the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your entire life.” He spoke dryly. “Luckily, I have some morphine, but I can’t give you very much of it. We’re running on rations as far as medical supplies go. In the meantime,” He walked towards one of the drawers and pulled out a rugged looking stick. It had a piece of leather fastened around the middle of it, and was riddled with bite marks, scratches, and other sorts of damage. He held the stick with his telekinetic grasp a few inches in front of my face. “Bite.” he concluded.

I laid belly first on the cot, my mouth biting down the stick as he started to apply the morphine on my left forehoof. I felt a little prick of pain, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The worst was yet to come. When he levitated the Scalpel, my grip on the stick increased tenfold. 

I didn’t exactly know what to expect; I expected pain, obviously, but the kind of pain I thought would occur would be like peeling live skin off, which sounded terrible. But what it really felt like was a lot worse. First, he probed the wound with a small rod, tracing it along the outer edges of the bullet hole. It sent streaks of singeing pain along my left side, as I bit down harder on the stick. A groan escaped me, as he inspected it.

“Bigs; hold her down.” Scalpel ordered. He looked at me, waiting for an answer. I nodded, and he proceeded to stand on his hind legs, and place both his front hooves down on my back. Immense pressure was now holding me in place… he was strong.

“Sorry about this.” Bigs spoke. I could only moan on the stick as a reply.

Scalpel then started to poke the rod inside the bullet hole, making the already intense pain even more agonizing. I heard a shrill, high pitch moan, only to find out it was me making those noises. I reflexively tried to recoil away, but Bigs wasn’t letting me go anywhere. Sweet Celestia, was he strong. I felt warm trickles of blood seep down my coat. Or was it puss? Maybe both? I didn’t care at the time. I was too busy crying in pain.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of pain, he stopped prodding the wound and began to cut bits and pieces of my flesh away with his scalpel, which made me flat out scream if I could. With the stick in my mouth though, it sounded like a pig was being slaughtered. The pain was unbearable, and tears flowed freely from my eyes. I was hoping I would pass out, but I wasn’t so lucky. I was still wide awake, and the morphine wasn’t kicking in yet.

When all was said and done though, he threw the bits of my coat and flesh into a metal bucket, along with some blood. The sight of seeing parts of me being tossed like that made me bilious. “Almost done.” he stated. I groaned in response. I saw out of the corner of my tunneled vision pull out some tweezers. I wasn’t finished suffering yet, it seemed. 

He then proceeded to lodge the tweezers inside the already ruined bullet wound, in the hopes of pulling the bullet out. I screamed again, thrashing around wildly trying to break free of Bigs’ ridiculously firm grip, but to no avail. He wasn’t letting me go anywhere. Through all of the torturous pain, I felt another object inside the hole being moved around, which sent me into a panic. All I could think was “GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!” as I laid there restrained by Bigs’ unrelenting strength. More agonizing pain ensued until I heard a sickly ‘squelch’ noise emit to my left.

“Got it!” Scalpel announced. The pain was still there, but he wasn’t picking in the hole, at least. “7.62 Millimeter. Standard ammunition.” I saw the bullet he was holding, which looked nothing like a bullet and instead looked like a deformed metallic star. That was inside me?

“Do I need to keep holding her?” Bigs asked.

“Just for a little while longer. I need to clean the wound.” He levitated a strange looking bottle and a white piece of cloth. After dabbing the liquid onto the cloth, he proceeded to wipe around the wound, sending more pain up my left side. Then he dabbed it again and cleaned inside the wound, which made me thrash out and scream again. Why wasn’t the Morphine working already!?

Finally, after he finished cleaning the hole, he announced, “Ok, you can let go now.” and Bigs finally let go. I still clenched on the stick, which now had a new set of teeth marks to add to its collection of damage. After I sat up from laying down on the cot, Scalpel proceeded to wrap a long white bandage around my torso. I got a good glimpse of the former bullet wound, which looked more ugly than before. 

“You’re lucky you got to me today just in time. Any longer, and I don’t think you would’ve survived.” Scalpel noted as he proceeded to tie the bandage together, after wrapping it several times around my chest. I felt an eerie sense of relief wash over me at the fact that he might’ve very well saved my life. Still, I didn’t feel lucky.

“Will she be okay?” Naya spoke for the first time since I landed, still sounding timid as she did on the radio.

“She’ll be fine in two weeks or so. Normally, if I was a practiced surgeon, I would use healing magic, but I never practiced nor studied it. So I made do with what I had.” He pulled out a yellow-orangish looking capsule from a drawer, filled with tiny white tablets inside. “Take these once a day for one week, then come see me. We’ll see how you’re holding up by then. In the meantime, no strenuous activity. That means no flying, and no physically challenging work and no more getting shot.” he instructed dryly. 

“Ugh.” I replied groggily. Now the morphine was kicking in. A fat lot of good that does now.

“Ah, she’ll be fine. If she could survive the last three days with a wound like that, she can handle anything!” Lucky commented. 

Scalpel levitated the stick out of my mouth and placed on the counter for later. The overwhelming amount of suffering I had just endured left me weak on my legs when I attempted to stand up off the cot. I nearly fell to the floor, before Naya and Lucky caught my fall. 

“Eugh - I need a proper bed, stat.” I muttered weakly. I was sapped of all energy as I had just woke up with only 3 hours of sleep. Which to be fair, I didn’t really sleep that well for the past two to three days.

“Can you make it there on your own?” Lucky asked.

“I think.” I waved my hoof, signaling them to let go of me. I stood on all four hooves, and tried to trot forward… tried. I fell flat on my face after about 3 steps forward. Groaning, I muttered “Nope. Cannot.”

“Alright, let’s get you to your bed.” Lucky suggested. Best idea he’s given all day. I felt a pang of guilt well up in my gut, having my team drag my might-as-well-be lifeless body across the lower decks of the ship. I didn’t think I deserved it, but they insisted on it when I asked them about. And besides, there was positively no way I could make it to my room on my own.

When we arrived in a random bunkroom, Lucky, Naya, and Bigs helped me to my cot. I winced in pain as they laid me across the bed. The morphine was in effect, but my left side still hurt like hell. I probably didn’t smell pleasant either, which made me feel even more guilty about my team dragging me around the ship.

“You ok now, boss?” Lucky asked apprehensively.

“I’ll be fine… just still hurts.” My eyelids felt extremely heavy. It took, quite literally, all of my energy to suppress a yawn.

“Do you need water or some food? Or anything?”

“Sleep. I want to sleep. Please.” I spoke slowly. They seemed more worried than they did before. Except for Bigs, who looked as stoic as ever.

“Sure, sleep is probably what you need anyway. We’ll either be in the Cafeteria or our rooms if you need us.” And with that, Lucky and Bigs trotted out of the room casually… maybe a little too casually. Naya just stood still, stared at my wound with hurtful eyes. Before I could ask what was wrong though, she left the room as well, with a quick pace. I decided I’ll ask later. What was wrong with Naya anyway? I turned my body, facing the blank wall and setting my head on atop the pillow. Almost in an instant, sleep took hold of me.






Three Days Passed


My dream was more of a nightmare and a memory into one

I was back in the airplane, over Pegasi Gulf. I am behind a bomber, giving chase and trying to shoot it down. The gunners fire back at me, striking my wings and hull. My plane begins to falter, and my propeller stopped spinning. Soon, I descended downward. I was going down.

I tried to open the Canopy, to eject, but the lever was stuck. No matter how much I attempted to force it open, it wouldn’t budge. I opened my mouth as if to scream, but no noise came out. The endless flat plane of water was rapidly getting closer to me. I watched in horror as I quickly accelerated down to my fate: certain death.





I woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. My side felt itchy, unbearably so given that I couldn’t scratch it well enough beneath the bandages. The ship was softly tilting to one side, then to the other, almost barely noticeable. I turned my head behind me, away from the wall, noticing nopony else but me.

I struggled to fall asleep for the rest of the day; mainly due to my side itching unbearably. I decided it was a lost cause, and sat up. My head bumped into the bottom of the bunk above me, wincing loudly as I clutched my head. I had no idea what time it was, but the biological clock in me figured it was still daytime.

I stood on my hooves, a little groggy at first, then proceeded to make my way towards the ER, in the hopes of finding Scalpel. I wanted so badly to stop this itching, but I figured that was normal in the healing process of a gunshot wound. Still, maybe some kind of ointment or magic of some kind… I didn’t want to get my hopes up for nothing, but there had to be something that could be done.

When I arrived, after navigating my way through the drab, boring halls of the Blueblood, I found Scalpel standing by himself sorting his various instruments. There were other ponies in here, this time, all of which didn’t seem to be in too much pain as they lay on their cots. Scalpel seemed so invested in his task that he didn’t even hear me trotting in.

“Slow day, I hope?” I asked making Scalpel slightly jump, turning his head around.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to sneak up on other ponies?” He asked with a sense of annoyance. 

“I don’t really remember much of my mother, being raised by my dad only for most of my life, so no. Probably not.”

“Oh…” he replied, more softly this time though. “My condolences.”

“It’s fine.” I never knew who my mother was as a pony, so I’ve never gotten the chance to woe about it. But that was the last thing I wanted to think about. “I need help.” 

Scalpel sighed. “Please tell me you didn’t fidget with the bandages, and the wound opened up again. Did it?”

“No, it’s fine. It just itches terribly. Can’t sleep with it.”

“That’s normal. It means the healing has begun and is moving along just fine. The itch is merely a side effect, nothing I can do about it except tell you not to aggravate it.”

Well, that was a bust. I trotted closer toward him. “There must be something you or I can do. Is there?”

When I was no more than ten feet away from him, his face shifted to an expression of absolute disgust, and he recoiled backward. “Well, for one, you can definitely take a shower. When was the last time you bathed?”

“Do you mean when was the last time I got wet? Because that was over Mead Lake.” 

“And that was three days ago, Night Light. Proper bathing will definitely help you heal, and maybe relieve the itching. So I would start with that.”

I stopped and sniffed myself... I did stink pretty bad. “Right. Will I need to take off the bandages?”

“I recommend not, at least for now. I just debrided it, so washing it with soap and water, no matter how beneficial, would probably hurt terribly.”

“Yeah, well so does cutting it open with a scalpel.” I spoke wittily. 

“Well if it wasn’t for that, you’d be dead,” he replied blankly. “So take that however you will.”

“Right. To the showers I go then.” I turned to leave the ER.

“Wait, before you leave,” Scalpel interrupted “I… uh, Naya, she… came in earlier while you were out. Now, normally I’d keep my patient's concerns to be confidential, but she seems to know you, so…” He paused for a while as if he was deciding very carefully what correct words to say. “She asked about your condition, rather nervously I should add, and was worried if there was a chance you might die. I told her ‘no’, but she didn’t seem convinced.” He paused again. “I think something’s wrong with her, Night Light.”

“Is she hurt? What’s wrong with her?”

“No, she’s fine Physically, but that doesn’t mean her mental state is automatically stable. She seemed rather distressed when we spoke. Whatever it is, I’d talk to her if I were you.”

So, I wasn’t the only one who noticed something was wrong with her.

“I will, thank you.”

“Yeah. Take care of yourself.”





I was granted the mercy of not having anypony else in the showers with me. I was by myself for once. I took that as a good sign and proceeded to the first stall I could find. There were walls on the sides of the stall, granting privacy (if only by a little) to the pony in the next stall over. There was a curtain as well that covered the entrance, so it was somewhat private. 

But in the military, privacy is a forgotten luxury, so I took advantage of this opportunity.

I closed the curtain behind me and twisted the knob on the left about a half-turn right, and the right knob to a quarter-turn in the same direction. About 20 seconds later, the water now felt warm and inviting. I inspected myself, noticing my filth appearing in certain spots of my matted coat. Spots of dry mud were clearly visible without the flight suit on to cover them up. My mane felt greasy, thick, and tangly. 

Overall, I felt, looked, and smelled repulsive. So when I stepped inside the shower, greeted with the sensations of warm water trickling down my skin, it was like I was in heaven. Waves of euphoria swept through me as a sigh of relief escape my lips. I even found a bar of soap sitting in the stall, which I didn’t hesitate to use.

After cleaning myself thoroughly for about five minutes or so, the warmth of the water constantly beating against my skin and coat made me stay in there for a little longer than usual. Most of the showers I took were not as warm as this. There were usually more ponies in here using up what little of hot water there was in the reservoir. That being said, showers were typically short and bitter. 

This time around, I was given a longer time period before the hot water ran out. I used this period to bask in the heat of it all, which left me lingering in my thoughts.

I thought about how the rain felt while I crash-landed in Mead Lake. Compared to the shower, cold and bitter, it was like night and day. The wound didn’t make itself scarce as I could still feel a burning pain where the hole was. 

Speaking of, I noticed while I stood in the shower it finally stopped itching. Of which I sighed again in relief, not taking it for granted and savoring every second of this lack of sensation.

My thoughts then trailed back to earlier memories, and the more haunting images of changelings jumping out of planes still burning to death. A queasy sensation gripped my stomach as I shook my head, sending droplets of water everywhere trying to suppress the haunting memories.

I then thought of Sunshine again… which was both a better and worse option. I missed her, unbearably so at times, and being in the warm shower reminded me of her embrace. 

For a short moment, I sat on my haunches and closed my eyes. I focused on the sound of rushing water, and imagined myself in another shower, one that was more secluded and private than the one I was currently in.

I thought of my home, in Cloudsdale. Just peace, warmth, and sunshine.

Sunshine... I imagined Sunshine Tempest in the shower, standing with me. I imagined us holding each other. The warmth of the water made it easier to imagine her embrace. I cherished every iota of this moment. I wanted to stay here forever.

Reality came crashing back down on me, and I found myself staring at another blank monotone wall. 

Something was welling up inside me, something new. I felt… Angry, suddenly. Angry at myself, angry at the world, angry at everything.'

I swung at the wall spontaneously, crashing my hoof against it with a violent thud.

I stared at my hoof for a long while until tears flowed freely from my eyes. Drooping my head, and wilting my ears, I began weeping beneath the rushing water. Nopony could hear me, thankfully - a small detail that my mind couldn't help but grasp onto. As cathartic as it was, and I so badly wanted to release everything my body could offer, to lay there while I shrivel up and die wasn't part of my plan.

It couldn't be helped, though. My mind tends to dig itself into the gutter like this. So of course I would wallow in it. What else could I do?

The shower didn’t feel so warm anymore.






Seven Days Passed


The last few days I spent on the Blueblood, silently suffering while healing up, felt slower than usual. The wound was still itchy underneath the dressing, though not as bad as the first day. I mostly spent my time in bed, either in the ER or in my bunk room. I had to be as un-strenuous as physically possible, as Scalpel said. 

On the fifth day of that week, I was called to the ER once more for my checkup, and to see if the wound had healed any better than the last time we saw it. Only Lucky and Bigs followed me down, Naya nowhere to be found. I was starting to worry about her, and wondered why she was acting diffident. 

I sat on my haunches atop the cot, while Scalpel proceeded to slowly unwrap the bandages on my torso. We were greeted to the sight of pink skin and a small hint of dark blue on where my coat was. The wound itself looked ugly, but not as ugly as it was the day I came back. It looked like the skin of a newborn piglet, not at all like my coat. It looked fine to me, though I wasn’t a doctor so I had no idea what the context of ‘fine’ could be.

The hole caused by the bullet seemed to have shrunk over the last few days. It also didn’t look infected either, though I could still see small hints of red streaks near the wound. Still, it could be worse.

“Hm… seems to be healing normally. There’s no puss anymore, which is good. Streaks are less intensive than before. And the hole itself is shrinking quite fast.” Scalpel noted, mainly to himself. “You should be in the clear by now. If you take it easy for another few days, you should be back to normal.”

“Will there be a scar?” I asked.

“No, it shouldn’t give you a scar. A wound like this is easily fixable if treated in time. You barely made that time, so consider yourself lucky.”

“How did you even get shot like that anyway? You still never told us what happened after you crash-landed.” Lucky inquired. I gazed at the hole, while Scalpel proceeded to dab it with more alcohol. It stung but compared to the Debriding, the pain felt trivial.

“I dunno. I guess one of the changelings’ stray bullets hit me while I was flying.”

“You gotta tell us what happened, while you were over there,” Lucky asked.

“Yeah, how did you survive all that?” Bigs added.

“I got a lucky break. Other than that, I couldn't tell you.”

“What happened, Night Light?” Scalpel then asked. “I have to admit, I am rather curious. The odds of survival for you were rather low.”

“Come on, tell us.” Lucky piped up.

I shifted nervously atop the cot, all eyes on me. Scalpel was starting to redress the bandages around my torso, as Lucky and Bigs sat on their haunches, waiting for me to start speaking. I took a deep breath.

“Well, I guess I’ll start when I crash-landed, behind enemy lines. I barely was able to bail out of the plane in time…”






Ten Days Passed


The fleet was heading back to Las Pegasus port for maintenance and repairs. Nothing too serious, from what I heard. We had a few skirmishes with some aircraft that were buzzing by. Not a lot, only about 10 or so each time, so we weren’t called to the air. The fleet’s AA armament was more than enough to repel any attack made. Only minor damage was suffered during those skirmishes.

We were southeast-bound, as the day was starting to slow to a crawl. It was evening when I stood on the flight deck, watching the horizon. Sometimes, I would wander up top to the deck and watch the sunset. It felt soothing, listening to the various sounds emitting around me: the soothing sounds of the waves splashing against the hull of the Blueblood, the commotion caused by the crew ponies on the ship, the seagulls crying in the distance - sounds that had no relevance to war whatsoever.

After about a half an hour of staring at the sunset, the loudspeakers blared behind my head. “All hooves, dinner is served. Repeat, all hooves, dinner is served.” it spoke, which urged me to rush down the long flight of stairs to the cafeteria before the line in the server gets too long. About two minutes later, I was in line behind at least 8 other ponies along the servery counter. They were serving the same thing every day: Hayburgers with celery sticks.

I grabbed my entree and proceeded to sit at an empty table. My team was nowhere to be found, so I assumed they were late. I sat alone eating my Hayburger first as I wait for the rest to join me. There weren’t many ponies in the cafeteria, mainly because there wasn’t much food to go around for the whole ship, so we ate very little. And the servings were getting smaller and smaller with each passing week.

Pilots, such as myself, were usually the luckier ones to land a meal. I didn’t know any other ones besides Lucky, Naya, and Bigs. There were a couple others I was familiar with, but I couldn’t recognize their names. Then again, I never bothered to ask their names. I was never much of a social pony. 

I noticed Naya trot in through one of the doors. She turned her head around, scanning the cafeteria around her before she locked eye contact with me. I waved my hoof in a friendly gesture and smiled. 

Her expression shifted to one I couldn’t recognize, and she immediately bolted out the door as fast as she could. At first, I was worried about Naya. Now, I was just confused.

I abandoned my tray and attempted to follow after her, but no such luck. The moment I trotted through the door she ran through, she was nowhere to be found. It was hopeless to chase her, she could be anywhere. I felt a hoof tap my side, which was Lucky’s.

“What’s up with her?” he inquired.

“I dunno. She’s been acting this way since I got back. I think it has something to do with me.”

Lucky looked a tad apprehensive. “Did you say something to her?”

“Not that I can remember.”

“... Stalliongrad Ponies. They are a weird bunch.” Lucky dismissed.

I felt a small pang of discontent at Lucky’s choice of words. To discriminate against a whole nation based on the way they behave seemed unfair to me. But he did have a point. Naya had been acting nothing but strange since the moment I arrived back at the Blueblood.

“Eh, I’m sure she’ll be fine on her own. Come on, I’m starving.” Lucky urged me to follow behind.

“I already got my tray. You just meet me at the table where I’m sitting.”

I trotted back to my supper and proceeded to finish it as Lucky sat next to me. About 5 minutes after that, Bigs trotted to our table. Only Naya was absent.

“Where’s Naya?” Bigs asked.

“Dunno. She doesn’t want to be here, for some reason.” I replied.

“That’s odd. She usually looks forward to meal times. She’s always hungry.”

“We’re all always hungry. Everypony knows that we’re running low on rations.” Lucky butted in.

“So why would she leave?” Bigs inquired.

“Dunno,” I replied, “but whatever the reason is, she’s been doing this ever since I got back.”

“Actually, not even that,” Lucky stated in a matter-of-factly tone. “Ever since we saw you go down over mead lake, she kinda just… lost it. After the crash, she went berserk and started shooting down every single plane she could find that wasn’t friendly. She chased them relentlessly.”

“Yeah,” Bigs added, “we asked her how many she shot down. She just said Nine.”

Nine aircraft shot down? That was impressive. I knew Naya was a good pilot, but that seemed a bit ferocious coming from Naya. And while that gives me an eerie sense of security, there was also shame attached to it. 

Did my 'death' really break her that badly?

“Did she say anything else?”

“No, she was silent the entire time over the rest of the battle. She hadn’t said a word until you came back.” Lucky answered.

Now I was skeptically worried. Naya was uncharacteristically being very coy and quiet. I had to find out what was going on and soon. If Naya were to be acting like this during a mission, I’d be afraid of what would happen. 

“Have any of you tried talking to her?”

“We tried, but she was always dismissive of us, saying she was ‘fine’ and that she ‘didn’t need our help, nor want it’. She was… very literal about that.” Lucky recalled.

I sighed, face-hoofing. Why was this so hard?

“Alright that's it, I'm gonna go talk to her.”

“Good luck with that.” Bigs muttered.





The rest of supper went by uneventfully, as we quietly finished our meals. When finished, I wandered all around the ship trying to find Naya. Hopefully, she’ll be in one of her “thinking spots”.

When Naya was not with us in the air, or otherwise is by herself, she’ll be hiding in the many different spots she finds for herself across the ship. She would go there when she "needed to think", as she said. I only knew a couple of them, as I usually find them by accident with her still in them.

One of her thinking spots happens to be in Hanger Bay. Most of the time, there will be aircraft parked inside the hanger, either in need of maintenance, repairs, refilling ammo, and so on. Some planes, due to their wing size, would have their wings folded upward, almost like a triangle. These kinds of planes are usually parked near the walls of the Hanger.

There was one Osprey, a Dive Bomber, that was parked in one of the corners of the bay, that was underneath a metallic support beam, stretching up all the way to the ceiling. Its wings were folded upward, making it easy to climb atop of it and to climb the support beam. The support beam led upward and stopped at a little triangular space just barely small enough to fit a pony if they wished to loiter there. 

That was one of Naya’s spots, though she wasn’t there.

One fact about Naya that struck me was the fact that she was very nimble and agile. She could traverse almost virtually any obstacle, even with the smallest of crevices she could fit through with ease. She could very easily climb this support beam and make it to her spot in less than ten seconds. 

Giving up on that spot, I traversed the ship’s lower-stern levels, typically where the engine would be. The engine room also had one of Naya’s thinking spots. There was a small corner that was secluded from the rest of the room and isolated from the ponies that worked there. She wasn’t there either.

Running out of spots to check, I brainstormed to myself, trying to think: where would a troubled pegasus be if she was trying to hide from others? 

I couldn’t think of any other spot that she might be hiding in, so the last place I assumed she would be was in the air, up in the clouds. But that violated just about every jurisdictional protocol we have for pilots, like myself and Naya. 

Still, Naya was known to be a rebel...

I galloped to the flight deck, earning looks of confusion from other ponies along the way. Once I made it, I trotted off to the side of the control tower, away from others where they couldn’t see me. Once I assumed I was hidden, I looked up at the sky. There were so many huge, puffy clouds decorating the orange-colored atmosphere, that it would be impossible to assume on my own which cloud she was in.

Nevertheless, I spread my wings and took off, ascending upward. Nopony seemed to notice, which was good. Getting back down unnoticed would be a challenge, but I could slip through during curfew.

I gradually climbed higher and higher, still unnoticed by the fleet, and proceeded closer to the clouds. When I made it, I flew straight through one of the clouds and burst through on the other side, and scanned the area around me.

I noticed, to my southwest, a red figure sitting on the edge.

She seemed perplexed as if she had just witnessed something impossible. I unfurled my wings in a glide towards her, approaching from behind. She didn’t notice me as I landed behind her.

What do I say? 

Now that I found her, it didn’t really occur to me until that moment about what I was actually going to say to her. I knew questions I needed to know as to why she was being so reclusive and isolated. But it didn’t seem right to start off a conversation like that though. 

I could see what she was staring at, though. The sun was just now starting to disappear underneath the horizon, causing a long orange glare to twinkle on the ocean's surface. She seemed to be lost in thought.

The sunset did look beautiful.

I trotted, ever so slowly, closer to her, softly clearing my throat. 

“You know,” I began “I always enjoyed sunsets.”

Naya turned to look at me, startled at my presence. 

“Sunshine Tempest would usually drag me out of our house and watch the sunset when we had nothing else to do. I was reluctant about it at first, me being an Introvert and all. But after doing it with her so many times, I began to appreciate how beautiful it actually was." I softly sat on my haunches starting ahead. I could feel Naya's eyes burrowing into the side of my skull.

"The landscape would turn into gold, the warmth of the sun would bathe my coat in golden light, the sky changing colors like a painting in live action. It’s like, for a short amount of time, I’m feel like I am at peace. That everything is just right in this world.”

Naya didn’t move or speak. So I continued, “I still love them, though its hard to appreciate them the same nowadays. I could find myself outside of the war just for a few moments, and enjoy the warmth of the sun. To sit on top of a cloud, and just... Stop to think.”

Naya, still speechless, looked like she was trying to fight back tears.

“... I would do anything to get back to that old life," I added, gazing her into her wet eyes. "Whatever it takes, I will find a way to get back to that life. And if it means I have to crash land and defy death itself, then so be it. I can, and will, do whatever it takes.” 

There was an unfound determination in the tone of my voice, one that had caught me off guard just as much as it had caught Naya off guard. I	could still feel it; the fear of death was still palpable. It was a seemingly impossible circumstance to try and live all the way through the end of this destructive conflict when one doesn't even know if this conflict will ever end.

And I didn't care. I didn't care how scared I was, because I knew there were others just as scared as well.

“Naya, ever since I came back, you have been troubled about something. And no matter how many times I tried to talk to you, you are always not around and are actively avoiding me. I’m not upset about it, but I am concerned about you. What is going on?”

Naya hung her head, her facial features not visible. Her mane was blocking half of her face. There was a choking noise, then a sob, as Naya’s shoulders heaved. I wrapped my wings around her and embraced her in a side hug. Her tears didn't cease.

When I was a filly, I distinctly remember my father doing this to me when I was distressed. He would hold me in his hooves, and wrap both of his wings around me, embracing me as I would cry until I fell asleep, or run out of tears. 

After doing the same thing to Naya, I felt a pang of sorrow in my chest. Naya began to weep loudly.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” I muttered as she sobbed into my mane. She clung onto me, as if for dear life, and continued to cry as I comforted her. 

About five minutes or so, before she regained her composure, she finally spoke.

“I’m sorry... I’ve been rather selfish, haven’t I?”

“Nothing to apologize for. It’s fine. I just want to know why. Why have you been avoiding us?”

“I…” She hesitated. She pondered to herself shortly before continuing. “When I saw the plane that was shooting at you, I couldn’t get him in time before he… got you. I saw your plane spin to the ground, but I didn’t see you jump out… Didn’t hear your voice. I thought you…” She made another choking sound, before continuing. 

“I remember feeling... Enraged. I felt so angry that I couldn't feel anything else. I could hear voices calling out to me on the radio, but I blocked it out. When I saw you went down, I didn’t care about what happened to me at that point. I just wanted catharsis... So... I shot down your killer, and many more afterward.

"With every plane shot down, more kept coming. So I kept coming too." She trails off, her leg with a hoof as she stared at the water below. "Every changeling that tried to take me down that day had lost. I made sure of it."

I silently listened as I continued to embrace her.

“When we were told to return to base, I didn’t feel anything. I felt completely drained inside-out; I wasn't that I killed your killer, I wasn't sad that you were dead, I wasn't relieved that I survived... I just remember feeling hollow. Like I was a shell of my former self. When I made it back to my cot, I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was cry.”

This whole circumstance felt surreal to me: the guilt for inadvertently abandoning Naya with my fake death, the confusion for seeing Naya this uncharacteristically depressed, the sorrow I empathized with Naya for feeling so lost and hopeless. With so many different emotions and thoughts going through my head, I felt a bit dizzy.

Naya stopped talking, and I was at a loss for what to do. I felt sad, a little angry at myself, a bit anxious about what to say, and most importantly guilty for all that had happened. I pondered silently as she continued to hold me.

She reminded me so much of her, of Sunshine Tempest…

I dipped my head and softly kissed her forehead. She had a perplexed look on her face.

“Listen to me Naya, I’m here right now. I am alive and well, aside from being in pain a little from what happened. But nevertheless, I am still alive, Naya. That means that whatever happened over mead lake wasn’t your fault! So stop blaming yourself for what happened.”

“But I-I could’ve prevented you from being shot down! I-I could… I could’ve saved you, maybe!” Naya stuttered.

“Even if that was possible and you tried to do just that, I do not blame you for what happened. So you shouldn’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, and I mean it. 

"And another thing, I survived because I made a promise to you guys. I promised you, Lucky, and Bigs, to get home alive. And when I crashed in Mead Lake, I wasn’t ready to die yet. Simple as that.”

Naya was lost in thought. She silently thought to herself for a moment, before speaking, “How can you promise such a thing? Who knows how long this war will last? It could last for a decade, maybe more!”

“Maybe... But maybe it could also end a lot sooner-”

“If we lose!”

“Naya!" I grabbed hold of her cheekbones, forcing her to look directly into my frowning eyes. "I don’t know how long this war is going to last. I don’t even care at this point. All I know is that there is no end in sight just yet. But until there is, I plan to fight my way through all the way until the very end to see it through. And I promised you, and the others, that we will all survive. And that is a promise I intend to keep!”

Naya was still apprehensive about such a ludicrous promise. To be fair, it did seem illogical, to promise such an unpredictable thing. But I intend to keep it, even to my end.

“I-I’m scared, Night Light. I-I I’ve never been so terrified in my life! I… I’ve heard stories of what happens to Ponies on the frontlines and I don’t understand why! Why are we at war? Why does Chrysalis hate us so much? Why must we throw innocent lives at our enemy, and accept the massive casualties as normality?! It just doesn’t make sense!” She screamed.

“I… I don’t know, Naya. I really don’t. And I am just as scared as you are. Terrified even. There is a very real chance that both of us will die by the time this is over." 

That was probably not that answer she wanted, but I continued before she had a chance to protest.

"I have to risk my life, and the lives of others, just to follow orders from a more ‘Official’ pony, because that’s the only thing I can do: ‘Follow orders’. And yeah, it fucking sucks.”

Naya’s grip loosened just a little, almost barely noticeable. I gently stroked her mane and continued.

“But as long as you, Bigs, Lucky, and my Sunshine are still alive, I have a reason to fight. A reason to keep going. I promise you with all that I have and all that I am willing to give, that I will keep us safe.”

"You cannot promise such a thing... It's not possible to ensure your word on this... You know this."

"Maybe... But I also knew I was supposed to die... over at Mead Lake. And yet I didn't."

The rebuttal had loosened Naya's grip on me, if only by just a little. “... Okay. Okay, I-I trust you. I want to live Night Light. I really do... Is that so selfish to ask?”

“I’d like to think it’s not,” I answered honestly.

Her grip loosened. “... Okay... I trust you, then.”

I smiled warmly. 

"Then would you mind coming back to us? It's almost curfew, and we are definitely not supposed to be here."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."
> (A2) - Chapter 4: The Inferno
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 2, Chapter 4: The Inferno



“A shape filled the sky, like a black blanket covering the stars. For a moment, it smothered the night with its canvas.”







Night Light


“We’re getting nowhere with this.” Grim started. “You keep avoiding the main question, filling me in on useless information—”

The door behind me made a knocking sound. Somepony was outside. Grim, annoyed by the interruption, trotted to the door, and proceeded to open it.

“I’m in the middle of something. This better be good.”

“We have a situation with Number Two. She-” I turned to look and found a mare I didn’t recognize standing at the door. We made eye contact, and she spoke again. “She’s having a breakdown. She refuses to cooperate.”

“Is that Sunshine? Is she alright!?”

“Quiet!” Grim snapped at me, staring hard into my eyes, urging me to sit down. I just then noticed my hooves standing up. I don’t remember when I stood up. 

Grim continued “What did they do to her before you were sent here?”

“They had her restrained to a chair in the same room, to-”

“You tied her to a chair?!”

“I said QUIET!” Grim was yelling as well. He took a deep breath, before turning to face the mare.

“Like I said, we restrained her to her chair to prevent physical injuries on herself or others. What are your orders?”

Grim pondered to himself for a long while, trading glances at me and his acquaintance.

“Have the Unicorns implement a calm spell on her if the doctors can’t find a solution. For now, though, keep her restrained and monitored. If or when she’s stable enough to talk, then proceed as planned with the session.”

“Yes sir!” The mare answered diligently, before closing the door and trotting out. Grim took a seat in front of me.

“What have you done to her!?” I demanded.

“Too much, apparently…” he muttered. Bitterness swelled up inside me. He was the reason me and her were apart. And he didn’t seem to give a damn about her, or my well-being.

I frowned. “If you hurt her...”

Grim didn’t falter. He simply stared at me, with a stoic expression.

“I’m not hurting her.” He replied matter-of-factly. “And neither are they. Rest assured, we’re not trying to keep you separated. We’re not trying to hurt you. We’re doing our job."

“I still don’t get what is so damned important about the Aigaion that you are obsessed with prying it out of me!”

“Do you even understand the amount of public fear that was accumulated from the Changelings? How where every city that had ponies, or griffins, or yaks, there was always the chance a Changeling was infiltrating that city? The Changelings were no strangers to espionage, just as they are no strangers to combat as well.

“The paranoia that the public experienced as long as we were still fighting the Changelings wasn’t doing any favors. Defeatism was common across the country, which might’ve been the result of Changeling Espionage as well, for all I know. My point is that the Aigaion was especially feared by many when it made its debut in the war. 

“The reason for our ‘obsession’, Night Light, is because we need to put an end to the reign of terror caused by this monstrosity. Most ponies think this thing still exists, even to this very day! Once we bury the hatchet, the ponies will have no more reason to fear. That is why we are doing this.”

“Why would that matter? The war is already over!”

Grim narrows his eyes. “Fear doesn't need a reason for ponies to be afraid.”

I sat back in my seat, sighing to myself, pondering Grim’s words. Staring at the window in front of me, I saw the shadows of clouds drift across the landscape. About 3 hours have passed by since I entered this room. Though I had no way of telling how long exactly.

“Back to the task at hoof. From what we can gather, you were there during the first sorties against the Aigaion. Like Las Pegasus; Describe what happened there. You were there that day, weren’t you?” Grim asked.

A shiver having nothing to do with the cold travels up my spine. I was very much hoping he would avoid this subject entirely.

A wave of shivers quakes my body as I visualize back to that day. My mind is refusing to form mental images.

“You do not have to go into every detail about the things you don’t want to remember.”

Grim must've caught my complexion because he spoke with a sudden reverence to me. A sort of respect that he knew what he was asking was hallowed territory in my mind.

“...Okay" I swallowed, taking a deep breath to stop the shaking. "I was stationed on the Blueblood still when the fleet was about to be docked there.”






December 7th 1012, 14:24 CST


Hearth’s Warming. It was a holiday that everypony knew well and one that was widely celebrated across Equestria. Though not as festive and enthusiastic as the previous Hearth’s Warmings before the war, ponies were still trying to be merry and cheerful despite the circumstances. The ship we were on would soon be docked at Las Pegasus for Repairs and Maintenance. 

A common problem many of the ships faced was their lack of fuel storage. They could only cruise for about two weeks before having to refuel. That’s one week at least of total operation time during their voyage before we had to head back to port. 

This time around, ponies didn’t seem to complain about the sudden change of course to Las Pegasus. A couple of the crew ponies said they had families in the city they wished to see on shore leave, or at the very least, to send a postcard to. The mood was optimistic across the ship, and ponies felt less anxious than usual. They weren’t on edge as much as they were out in the sea. At least in Las Pegasus, they were in Equestrian territory.

They even changed the rations of Lunch and Supper. We arrived at the city about 2 days ago, giving them plenty of time to refill our rations, ammunition, and fuel. The rations—instead of the usual Hayburger or occasional Celery Stick—we had Mashed Potatoes, Eggnog, Pies, and some good stuffing. A festive and welcome change from the usually bland selection. 

For the last two days, in prep for celebrating Hearths Warming, ponies around the ship were singing holiday songs whilst eating their newly prepared feast. Some would even get up and dance to the music if they weren’t eating. Although Hearth’s Warming was about a week and a half away, ponies didn’t seem to mind celebrating early. Some even get letters from their distant families, loved ones, friends, or colleagues as an early gift. They were also given the luxury of writing back for once.

The last letter I’ve written to Sunshine was more than a year ago to this day.

I never got a response back from her. Even with her fighting on the front lines, I assumed she would have a little free time to write back. I was terrified of the implications of her not responding, but something deep in my soul told me she was still alive. I had no idea, of course, it was only a hunch. 

But it felt right.

Despite my efforts to pry it out of almost every high-ranking military official I’ve come across, I could not find out where Sunshine was potentially stationed. They took their Operation Security very seriously against the Changelings so I could only guess. She could be in the Shire, or maybe she could be in the Crystal Empire. She could be one of the garrison soldiers here in Las Pegasus, but I had no way of knowing for sure.

Until now. 

I was sitting in the cafeteria with my friends, munching on our food while listening to ponies sing “White Hearth’s Warming” when a courier waltzed through the room dancers with an announcement.

“Everypony, I’ve got letters from loved ones, families, and friends for all. Gather around!” he yelled, which urged everypony to line up near the courier as he handed out letters and postcards. I didn't pass up on the chance myself and jumped up in line to wait patiently for my turn. About two minutes passed by, and he looked me in the eye as I stepped forward.

“Is your name Night Light?”

I felt my heart skip a beat. “Yeah?”

“This one’s for you. From a ‘ST,’ if you recognize that initial.” he took the time to read the front of the envelope.  

I felt my blood go cold. I quickly got a hold of the small envelope with two fancy initials scribbled on it.

	ST to NL.

“Who is that from?” Lucky asked from behind, waiting for me to step back to the table to ask me of my leftovers.

I didn’t answer. I hastily opened the envelope instead and found a piece of parchment, folded with writing on it. 

I immediately recognized the mouthwriting and unique calligraphy. This was her. 

I silently read to myself.



Dear Night Light, 

	At the time I am writing this, it is somewhere in the middle October, 1012. I can’t remember what date exactly it is, but that’s beside the point. I am writing to you because I’ve received the letter that you wrote to me. I feel happy, knowing you are safe and sound for now. I have no idea how long that will last, however, so I am writing this for you to read so that you will know what is going on with me.

	I cannot say where I am currently, due to Counter-Intelligence protocols. It’s very cold here, but me being a pegasi makes it not too bad. And the uniforms that Rarity made have good insulation, so I haven’t any need to worry so far. Except for the Changelings; we’re constantly on alert for any attack by them, it makes some of the ponies here a bit paranoid.

	I hope you are doing as well as you can be during times like this. Celestia knows that I worry for you almost every day. I keep thinking about waking up one day and hearing that you were killed in action on a mission, and the thought of it terrifies me. But so far, that thought has not become a reality. I pray to Celestia and Luna every day to keep you safe. 

	And as for me, how I am doing; things are hectic around here. We keep getting pushed back by the Changeling onslaught further north. Ponies die are doing whatever they can. Although we’ve adapted somewhat, we are still not ready I think. I hope you are, for your sake.

	I think made new friends as well if you can believe it. I like to think that they would’ve also been good friends before the war, but you know how it is. It is strange how fate and life works. If not for the war, I probably would’ve never met them.

	But that’s for another day, I suppose. I am running out of paper. In case this letter takes a while to reach you, I hope you have a happy Hearth’s Warming, and a happy New Year! And I hope to hear from you again soon.

	-Sunshine Tempest.



I had to fight the sudden urge to cry. 

Tears were pricking the side of my eyes, as I finished reading the letter. 

She did it. Spitfire submitted my letter. The next time I see her, I’m hugging her.

“You okay boss? Is something wrong?” Lucky asked, noticing my tears with a worried expression.

“No, I- er, I mean, yes. I am fine. I feel better now.”

“Who wrote that letter?”

“Sunshine. She wrote back to me.”

“Your marefriend?” Naya inquired, recognizing the name.

"I didn't know you had a relationship." Lucky was piqued after grabbing ahold of his letter to sit back down with me. "Or any family, really."

"She..." Words failed to describe how she and I met, apart from the fact we both grew up together in the same town all our lives. 

"She's the only family I got left, at this point." I finished quietly as I reread the letter again and again.

"What about your mother and father?"

"I..." I paused. "I don't know what happened to them."

"Or maybe you don't wanna talk about it?“ Bigs chuckled. "I know the feeling. I miss my family back home. And I’m sure they miss me too. But fuck, do they drive me crazy! I'm glad I moved out of that house."

"Family shouldn't be shunned, it should be honored and loved." Naya piped up, sipping on a still-steaming tea cup from the servery. "I thought Equestrians were taught to respect their elders and for us to have fraternity?"

"Tell me you are not from Dodge City without saying it..." Bigs mumbled.

"I didn’t know you had brothers. What are their names?” Lucky asked.

“Muddy, Clutzy, Brawny, and Slender hooves they were called, and then there's me: Big Mouth. Muddy likes to get dirty and roll around in whatever filth he can find, and tends to do some stupid shit for no reason; Like going off to find a cockatrice on his own and go missing for three days, only to come back with the head of one in  his mouth!" 

That made me stop reading, caused Naya to stop sipping her tea to side-eye Big Mouth with a confused glare, and for Lucky to guffaw aloud with a belly laugh.

"He-heh-he actually did that?" Lucky chuckled the question.

"True story." Bigs smiled. "Now Clutzy? He is prone to accidents and easily pushed around. He wasn’t the most physical of us all. But he is pretty damn smart, for a small colt. He one time made a liquor still out of clay and glass."

"I think that is breaking every sanitary and production law that Equestria has." Naya atonally spoke up.

"And I bet it tasted like shit." Lucky agreed.

"It did, and it gave us all alcoholic poisoning for a day; we had to get our stomachs pumped that night." 

All of us collectively stared at Bigs as if he were insane

"Yeah," Bigs awkwardly rubbed his neck with a hoof, "he may be smart by our standards, but the bar was very low still.

"Anyways, Brawny likes to move around a lot and is always physical. He likes to ‘remain active’, as he would say. He is known to be the bruiser out of all of us. He has the heaviest hooves anyone had ever seen and was undefeated in a fight."

"And Slender?" Lucky asked the final name.

"Slender... um..." He paused. "He kinda sucked, not gonna lie."

Another awkward pause.

"... Thats it?" Lucky asked. "That's all you got about him? Isn't he... like-"

"Skinny?" I asked for him. "Thin Boned? Small Framed? Frail?"

"He was boring and had abnormally longer limbs than each of us. And that's it."

“That sounds rather lame…” Naya muttered.

"He was rather lame." Bigs corrected. "The most boring stallion ever to exist, I think. He just reads, and reads, and reads... and reads. And he hardly speaks at all! It's like talking to a mannequin."

"Well then," Naya cleared her throat, "Apart from the last individual, your brothers all sounded like a unique band of ruffians." 

“We were troublemakers, what can we say? We always found some way to cause havoc. Anything for a good bit of fun, I guess.”

“What did you do with them? What were you doing back then?” Lucky questioned. Bigs made a cocky, smug grin.

“I was called ‘Big Mouth’ because I was always getting into fights with ponies I didn’t know. And I got into those fights by giving them the meanest cussing streak of their lives. And when they tried to tussle, they end up with such bloody spots on their faces, that you can’t even recognize them.”

“So... You all caused nothing but trouble?” Naya piped up.

“Some of us did it intentionally, others did so unintentionally.” He gave a sly smile.

“And I thought my family was crazy…” I heard Lucky mutter to himself.

“Why? What did they do?” I inquired.

“Mud wars." 

"Okay, so I guess we are just doing a show-and-tell today, huh?" Naya muttered to herself as she finished her now cool beverage.

"Once a year, every year," Lucky continued, "we would gather up all of our family members -  distant and close - and have a feud by throwing mud at each other. We would divide up into two teams, based on which side of the family we were on. Whichever group was the least filthy wins bits as a reward. It was actually kinda fun.”

“That’s not crazy. That’s just plain stupid.” Bigs corrected.

“It was fun though! We all enjoyed it. It was a family tradition.”

“What was the tradition: being stupid, or being muddy?” Naya joked.

“Both!” Lucky laughed. Naya shook her head as Bigs just smiled.

“And what about you, Naya?” Bigs questioned.

“What about me?”

“Did your family do anything special for the holidays? Or anything at all?”

“Well, no. My family was not the... 'traditional' type.”

“Come on, you must have something special for us to share, right?” Lucky probed.

“Well..." She suddenly seemed small, as she kept her head low. "I guess you can count singing interesting.

“... You can sing?” I asked.

“Yes... I think.”

The three of us were looking at her skeptically. Naya waved her hooves in front of her in disapproval 

“B-but that does not mean I am good at it! I-I’m not that great of a singer.”

“Well, prove it.” Luck leans on the table with his elbows.

“W-What?”

“Sing for us. Anything, it doesn’t matter, sing us a carol!”

“Yeah! Come on, I wanna hear this!” Bigs agreed.

“Didn’t you hear me say 20 seconds ago that I was not a good singer?”

“I don’t believe that. I mean, why are you doubting yourself so much? Come on, I’m sure you’ll sound fine!”

“I don’t even know that many songs! Seriously, I am not that good.”

“And I’m saying I disagree. Give it a chance it’ll only be this one time.” Lucky promised.

There was a quiet among us as she contemplated her choice intensely. Until I saw her shoulders sag.

Naya shifted in her seat with her cheeks flashing red, which was barely noticeable beneath her scarlet coat. “Just one time, and that’s it.”

We all looked at her anticipatingly, waiting for her to start. She cleared her throat, and sat upright on her haunches. In a crystal clear voice, with the pitch of a goddess, she closed her eyes and began to sing.

“Ages pass. Snow falls.

All the earth sleeps beneath

a blanket of white.

Darkness clouds the sky.

Snow falls without end.

Recalling our past, we march on.

Times of turmoil shall pass.

Dawn fills our hearts with light.

Our hopes rise with the brilliant.

Sun rises with faith in tomorrow, we march on.”

When Naya was finished, she opened her eyes and was greeted with the sight of me, Bigs, and Lucky staring at her, jaws and eyes wide open. Naya looked worried.

“Was… was it good?” She asked, afraid of our answer. Some of the other ponies were looking at her with astonishment as well. Everypony who managed to overhear the song was staring at Naya in shock.

And an in instant, everypony began to simultaneously cheer for her.

“That was amazing! Seriously, how could you think you weren’t good with a voice like that!?” Lucky practically yelled. Everypony else agreed with Lucky’s connection. 

“Was it that good?” Naya asked.

“Are you kidding me? It was better than good! It was amazing, you have the voice of a princess!” one of the other pilots piped up. 

“He’s right.” I agreed. “I don’t know why you doubt yourself so much, you sounded awesome!”

Naya was furiously blushing now. It actually looked kind of adorable. “I… thank you, Night Light. That really means a lot to me.”

“Of course! that’s what friends are for, right?”

She gave a warm and optimistic smile, making me feel happy for her. She’s definitely recovering.


BWAAAA! BWAAAA! BWAAAA! 


My thoughts were interrupted by a horrendous noise that filled the entire room. Through the never-ending siren, I heard Hawk Eyes almost scream through the intercom over the noise.

“General Quarters, General Quarters! All Personnel, Battlestations! Battlestations! Pilots, report to Briefing!”

In an instant, everypony sprung.

The caroling, dancing, eating, talking, festivities, and fun simultaneously stopped, replaced by a vigorous resolution for ponies to move to their places as fast as physically possible. Everypony stood up and mingled their way to their assigned positions. 

My friends and I looked at one another and bolted up almost simultaneously.

Most of the crew ponies were moving to the flight deck, to mount the AA batteries on the ship. The others were heading further below deck, to monitor and maintain the ship’s vital parts to keep it in working condition. 

They would be there to help keep the Blueblood afloat if it takes damage. The rest of the ponies were pilots, such as myself, and they were galloping, flying, and trotting their way to the Hanger Bay to reach the Mission Room.

When I arrived at Hanger Bay, I lost sight of my friends in the midst of the confused chaos. I flew my way over the large crowd of ponies to the other side of the large hangar, towards the Mission Room. 

When I opened the door, the ponies working the projector were frantically working to sort the different pictures for their slides. A few pilots were already sitting down in their seats, waiting for new orders. Some of them looked anxious. 

A few of these ponies were still rookies: this would be their first mission… and possibly their last.

I sat down in one of the metal chairs, facing the wall away from the projector behind me. More ponies began to mingle, including Naya. She sat in the chair next to me.

“What’s happening?” Naya asked, in a noticeably worried tone of voice.

“I don’t know,” I replied. 

More pilots trotted in and sat down in their chairs. About two minutes later, the lights began to dim. I could hear the projector behind me start-up as Hawk Eyes trotted into the room, his face as grim as it can be.

The Battle-Stations alarm was starting to die down in volume when most of the ponies began to realize what was going on. The screen was filled with white light, and Hawk Eyes cleared his throat before he began to speak. His voice was gruff and serious, earning everypony’s attention from the moment he started talking.

“Everypony, listen up! We have a situation! LPRS has picked a massive formation of enemy aircraft about 45 minutes away from here to the northwest, and they are approaching our location. We’re expecting Bombers and Fighters of all kinds to be present. The fleet is exposed to any air attack, meaning we’re sitting ducks!

“The city of Las Pegasus will be under attack, and Civilians are making their way to the bomb shelters now. We’re launching all available aircraft in the vicinity to join us on this fight. Blueblood and Pegasopolis are requested to launch all available fighters to intercept. As long as those enemy planes are still in the air, the city is at risk of being damaged.”

The pictures on the screen began to change, revealing the city but at an even higher altitude and facing top down. I could see warships in the harbor, which were very small compared to the city. 

“Many of the industrial centers are at risk of being annihilated. Your orders are to keep the city safe and to intercept all threats present over the city. We’re counting on flawless execution here! I want you all to wipe these bugs from our skies! If they want to attack us, let them come!

“Since this will be an extended operation, the Sky Strip and the Carriers will act as forward air bases for planes to resupply if needed. There are no Guarantees that the Sky Strip will remain operational throughout the battle since it is likely that it’ll suffer damage during the bombing. More information will follow from Long Eye once he’s in the air.

“Garuda will take off first, followed by Nimbus, Cumulus, Dash, Stratus, and Sky. You all have 5 minutes to suit up and be at your assigned positions! Dismissed!”

With those words, everypony sprung to action. 

All the ponies sprinted out of the room and made their way to the lockers, to go off on sortie. I flew over the crowd of ponies again and saw ponies all around Hanger Bay moving aircraft to one of the elevating platforms, preparing for take-off. 

Once I made it to the locker room, I galloped toward my designated locker. Upon opening it, I retrieved the jacket that I’d worn over Mead Lake. It wasn’t as filthy as it was before, but it still had some stains on it from the ordeal, though barely noticeable. 

Fumbling around with it made the Eavesdropper that Doc gave me fall out of my pocket and onto the ground. I scrambled to pick it up, inspecting it for damage.

I paused. 

It hadn’t left my pocket ever since I first acquired it, and this was the first time I had gotten a look at it since then. 

And, again since then, I felt that... feeling. There was an inexplicable weight in the air around me as if we had suddenly sunk underwater. My heart, though it thundered it minute ago, was now calm and controlled in its rhythm. 

The air felt static. As if time had frozen in that moment as I stared at the... seemingly small, frail, and worthless piece of tech in my grasp.

Doc's words echoed in my head.

You will be arguably more dangerous than you could ever hope to be, just with this little gadget.

Shaking my head, I stowed it back in the pocket and proceeded to suit up. I'll put it on later, right now I need to suit up. Naya, Bigs, and Lucky were at their lockers suiting up as well. 

Lucky was already finished with his, and he then galloped outside, to the flight deck no doubt. I put on my flight cap, and my life preserver vest as Bigs was also finished as he galloped to the flight deck as well.

When I was finally done preparing, I looked over to Naya, who was still trying to get into her jacket. She struggled a little bit. 

I noticed her arms were visibly shaking. She was nervous, I can tell. I tapped her on the wither, and she turned to face me. 

“How are you holding up?” I asked. She didn’t reply at first.

“... I’ll live.” she finally spoke, as she finished putting on her jacket. She turned to trot out the door.

“Hey, listen to me,” I called out to her. She turned to face me, anxiety etched on her expression. “Whatever happens up there, I need you to keep your cool. Don’t panic, shoot straight, and fly true. Alright?” 

She pondered to herself for a little while, before replying “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about all of us. What’ll happen if you get shot down again? Who will guide us?”

“If I do get shot down, we’ll be in home territory, and close to the fleet. I’ll be fine. What you need to focus on is keeping the ponies in the city and in the fleet safe and sound. I want you to focus on that for me. In any case, you are #2, so I expect you to keep your cool and take the mantle if that happens. Okay?” 

It somewhat shocked me at how nonchalant I was at talking about my potential death, a fact that wasn't lost onto me as I spoke to her. I felt the same dread that encompassed me every day of a potential attack morph into a gnawing fear, that the nightmare I had tried to avoid was about to become reality again.

But I didn't care. It seemed unworthy of my attention to think on such things. Not when my squad and friends were counting on me.

Naya was looking down at the floor, her bangs hiding her facial features. I placed my hoof under her chin and propped her face up to me. She looked almost sick. I then gave her a rough hug, which she did not expect.

“Everything will be alright. I know it will be. I need you to be strong, not just for me, but for us.”

She didn’t move.  She simply stood there, as I continued to hold her.

“I’ll try.” She softly assured.





Afterward, me and Naya made our way to the flight deck as fast as we could to meet up with Bigs and Lucky. Upon stepping outside, we could hear more sirens in the distance coming from the city, felt the cold against our coats, and could see the fleet mobilizing for action. The sky was overcast, filling the air and atmosphere with a grey tint. 

The Pegasopolis was doing the same thing, both of which had Destroyers escorting them. The Cruisers and Battleships, along with several other Capital Ships, were forming closer together in formation, their AA Batteries ready for combat. I saw a large squadron of planes form up in the sky over Las Pegasus, coming from the Sky Strip. The whole city seemed to be wide awake. 

I saw our planes for my team being lined up by crew ponies, who were frantically working their flanks off to get the planes into position. Others were too busy trying to shovel snow off of the flight deck and prepare for take off. The rest were doing… something. I can’t tell what else they were doing.

“Hey, you four, get in while we get you set up!” one of the ponies yelled at us whilst pulling onto one of our aircraft into position. My friends and I galloped towards the aircraft and proceeded to board them.

When I sat down in my seat inside the cockpit, the plane was moving on it’s own. We still weren’t lined up for takeoff just yet, as the ponies were working tirelessly to ready us for takeoff. 

I fetched out the Eavesdropper from my pocket again, and inspected it for wear and tear until wrapped the piece around the ear lobe and tucked the speaker in the canal.

I set my other earphones for communications on the other ear and proceeded to set the correct frequencies. The channels remained unchanged until we were compromised by some infiltration of radio frequencies. By then, we would change it to something else, and spend a good amount of time trying to remember it.

As soon as I set the following radio channels, I heard a tinny voice speak to me in my left ear. 

“Hello hello,” it spoke. Its voice sounded vaguely familiar. “If you can hear this, then that means the device is working. Listen carefully.” 

It was Doc’s voice. 

“You cannot speak through this thing, but we can speak to you. Although, we will refrain from communications once you are airborne. Your task, besides your military objective, is to tune in on the enemy communications and find out what they are saying in the air. If you can listen to them, we can listen to them as well. Simultaneously.”

I continued to listen to Doc’s almost mechanical voice as the plane stopped moving. The crew ponies seemed to have everything ready.

“We will monitor enemy communication throughout the rest of the flight. You may also use this device against your enemies in a dogfight as well, so use it responsibly. But other than that, there is not much else to say to you.” He was silent for a while but he finished by saying, “Good luck, Night Light.” before the voice went silent with an audible squelch.

I heard another tinny voice speak to me, this time in my right ear. “Blueblood control to Garuda Team, are all members ready?”

I looked back behind me, and saw the other planes lined up, prepped, and ready to go. “Affirmative, Blueblood. We’re ready for war.” I spoke back. 

“Roger, standby. We’re analyzing the situation.” I sat in the cockpit canopy, switching radio frequencies for my team, and for Spitfire’s team. There was light snowfall that littered the canopy glass, slightly obscuring my vision. 

The weather is going to be a problem, I can tell. 

I spoke into my mask again, speaking to my friends. “Garuda team, are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Da.”

“Yup.” They all spoke at once.

“Set your flaps for takeoff, and start your engines. Keep the throttle back until I say so.” I ordered, as I did the same. I set the radiator flaps open about halfway, to reduce engine heat and drag. I also had my ailerons trimmed, to even it out the instability mid-flight. 

“Garuda, you have permission to take off. Launch now!” Blueblood announced.

“Affirm we’re launching now.” I switched to my team’s frequency. “Everypony, we’re on a tight schedule again, so do a speedy takeoff.”

“Waiting on you.” Lucky responded.

I slid the throttle all the way forward, and the propeller began to spin even faster. Soon, my plane was slowly gliding along the small runway and was floating in the air in less than 20 seconds. I pulled the stick back to increase altitude, and raised my flaps. I glanced behind me, and saw the others beginning to lurch forward along the runway. I flew upward, gaining altitude as I continued to watch. One by one, they were in the air.

“Garuda team launched. Good Hunting!” Blueblood spoke once again.

“Everypony, get to 1500 meters or so and regroup on me. No formation this time, just meet with me.”

“Affirmative.” Bigs answered. I looked down below and saw a better view of the area around me. And the chaos with it. The entire fleet was moving into action, as they prepared for the incoming onslaught. There were more planes being launched from the Pegasopolis as well as from land. I couldn’t tell exactly how many aircraft are over the city, but I estimated at least 80 of them so far. More on the way.

I noticed Blue Smoke streaming from one of the planes launched from the Pegasopolis. Soon after, more planes from the carrier began following the smoke, trailing behind in a neat and spaced-out line formation. It was the Wonderbolts again. 

Spitfire and her team was stationed on the Pegasopolis. Me and my team, along with several others, were stationed on the Blueblood. This is obvious enough. What I did not know, however, was that there was more Wonderbolts than I originally thought. During the raid over Pegasi Gulf, the Wonderbolts had about 8 to 12 planes with them. A large number for one team. Now though, I could make out at least 18 of them, maybe more. So many planes from everywhere were being launched for this battle. I felt my hooves quivering at the stick.

My friends were steadily gaining on me as I reached the objective altitude. They began to form up on me in an echelon - a diagonal line - to my right. I noticed in the distance that more planes were being lined up for takeoff on the Blueblood’s runway. I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming premonition that something terrible was coming. The sounds of Air Raid sirens can still be heard from the city over the roar of the engine, as I continued to fly westbound. 

I switched my frequency to the Blueblood, and proceeded to speak into the mask. “Blueblood, this is Garuda, what is our current objective at this time?”

There was silence for a little while, before they answered. “Current orders are unknown at this time. Universally, the Primary Objective is to defend Las Pegasus. Other than that, I can’t tell.” 

“Roger, we’ll get in contact with somepony, and go from there. What’s the estimation on when the enemy will arrive?”

“At least a half-an-hour. Exact time is unknown. They’ll be approaching from the Northwest”

“Ten-four, Garuda out.” I finished, and switched channels. “Okay Garuda, the enemy is expected to be over the city in less than half-an-hour, arriving from Northwest. This isn’t a tactical air raid, this is an all out battle. Free engagement is allowed as far as I know, so remain vigilant and wary of allied planes with enemy planes. I don’t want any friendly fire accidents!” 

“Finally, I get to up my ‘Bugs Squashed’ count.” Bigs muttered to himself.

“I reckon this’ll be quite a perilous mission. Y’all oughta be careful.” Lucky warned.

“I’m ready for what they throw at me.” Naya reassured… although I do not know if she was trying to convince us, or herself. 

“Keep your head in the game, and stay focused on your surroundings. The sky will no doubt get crowded, so don’t fly too erratically and crash into somepony.” I instructed to my friends. Not one of them said another word.

I heard another voice speak in my right ear, one of a mare. “Night Light, I hope you and your squad are ready for action! We’re heading 295, along the coastline, to try and find the bombers before they reach the city limits. You’re more than welcome to join us, or to stay and defend the city. Your choice.” It was Spitfire, calling out to me on Lead Channel. I switched to it, and replied back to her.

“Roger that, I’ll decide what to do soon. Good luck to you.”

“Yeah, you too. Be careful.” 

I switched channels again, back to my team. “Okay, listen carefully. Here’s what’s going to happen. Naya, you’re flying with me. We’ll be heading 295 along the coast with others in hopes of finding the enemy before they find us. Bigs and Lucky, you two will stay above the Harbor and the Gulf, engaging any enemies you may encounter. Lucky, you’re in charge of your 2-pony group until I say so. Be effective and thorough in your call outs.”

“Affirmative. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.” Lucky answered. Bigs remained silent.

“Naya, you’re my wingpony for this fight. Stay strong, alright?”

“Okay…” she softly replied. She sounded hesitant, but it was too late to gripe and talk about it now. I’ll just have to take her word for it. Afterwards, I switched to Lead Channel and spoke into the mask, talking to Spitfire.

“Wonderbolt Lead, Garuda 1 and 2 are linking up with you guys. We’ll assist you in the interception mission.”

“Good to hear, Night Light. We’ll be up ahead.” she answered before speaking again, this time to everypony listening in on Lead Channel. “All Teams, Roll Call!”

“Nimbus is 6 Strong!”

“Gryphus is ready, 3 Strong!”

“Cumulus is currently 2 Strong, more members are on the way.”

“Dash is 5 Strong, with more incoming.”

“Sapphire is ready, 8 Strong!”

“Stratus is 3 Strong, more on the way.”

“Garuda is 4 Strong, and ready!” I joined in soon after.

“And Wonderbolts are 22 Strong, with more reserves incoming.” Spitfire butted in. “More teams are incoming, but it looks like most of everypony is here.”

“Sergeant Spitfire, what are our current orders?” One pony asked.

“I’m getting to that, listen carefully. Nimbus, Sapphire, Gryphus, and Garuda are assisting the Wonderbolts with Interception duty, heading 295 along the coastline. Cumulus, Dash, and Stratus will loiter over the city’s harbor and act as a second line of defense. Our goal is to shoot down as many bombers as we can, with fighters joining them.” She paused a moment, to catch her breath. “Gryphus, you’ll be Booming and Zooming while shooting down as many fighter escorts as you can before you have to RTB. Nimbus, and Sapphire will bait enemy fighters away from the formation to the west, and they’ll assist you in engaging them.”

“Copy that, Wonderbolt Lead. moving into position.” Gryphus lead replied.

“Sapphire confirms orders, mobilizing now.”

“Affirm from Nimbus, we’re moving.”

“Right, Garuda and us will be focusing on the Bombers. Kill as many as you can. Do all teams copy?” Spitfire asked over the radio, to everypony listening.

“Garuda copies.” I replied.

“Nimbus copies.”

“Cumulus copies.”

“Stratus copies.”

“Dash copies.”

“Gryphus confirms orders.”

“Sapphire copies move orders.” they all replied at once.

“Right then, move it or lose it!” Spitfire barked as all the planes around us began to mobilize. I could count at least 10 planes turning back and heading toward the city, in a scrambled and loose formation. More planes from the fleet and the Sky Strip were joining the sky in this great crusade. More and more planes began forming near me, flying in the same direction as my team was. 

I switched my channels to Garuda again, and spoke into the mask. “Garuda Team, listen up: We’re tasked to shoot down as many bombers as we can before having to RTB. as you know, the Sky Strip and the Blueblood are available if you need to RTB for resupply. Do not hesitate to use it. Stay close to each other or to a Wonderbolt, and you’ll be fine. Understood?” 

“We copy, Night Light.” Bigs responded first.

We flew Northwest for about 10 minutes or so, the Air Raid Sirens steadily moving out of earshot as we moved away from the city. During this time, Spitfire continued to call roll and order newcomers from the Blueblood or Pegasopolis to loiter over the harbor. More planes from the Sky Strip began to follow our formation heading Northwest. About half of our force was split up: one half intercepting the bombers, the other half defending the city harbor. With more still incoming from the Sky Strip, as well as other airfields in close proximity. In total, it should be about 200-300 planes. I have no idea if it would be enough, but we were about to find out.

Suddenly, in my left ear, I heard static noises emit from The Eavesdropper. No other noise or voice was heard. Nothing but static. I then realized that enemy communications were being transmitted through the earpiece, but was just out of range. We had to be close to them by now. my altitude was currently 1400 Meters, just underneath the cloud cover. I didn’t know if the Changelings would be over, inside, or underneath the clouds. Gryphus was above it, keeping an eye out for any aircraft. I could not see anything beyond a few hundred yards; the snowfall and fog was making it difficult to see very far. 

“Spitfire to all planes, do you see anything?” Spitfire called out in my Right Earmuff. 

“I see clouds, water, and sky. And planes, but they’re just our planes.” Somepony else remarked rather sarcastically.

“Be serious! Gryphus, do you have a visual?”

“Negative. We have no visual contact.”

More static emitted from my left ear, and more garbled voices can be heard. I could almost make out what they say, but not quite enough. My hooves were slightly shaking, and I could feel tingles down my spine. Maybe goosebumps.

“All planes, spread out and keep your eyes peeled. The second you see them, call ‘em out!” Spitfire ordered in my right ear.

“Ten-four! Sapphire is peeling off to the west a bit.” I heard somepony else say, before seeing some of our planes break off from the large formation we were flying in. Another group of planes proceeded to increase altitude, trying to climb above the clouds. 

Another fit of garbled voices were speaking in my left ear, but I could recognize some bits and pieces of it.

“... eep an eye for… can’t give away our position for…”

There wasn’t much to go on. All I knew for certain was that they didn’t want to be revealed. What did Doc say the range on this thing was again? Five Kilometers? We had to be alarmingly close by now, if I could hear them like so. It also spoke in a strangely natural yet artificial voice, almost like someone was reading a script and was getting very drawn into it. The voices continued.

“-ay inside the clouds. The closer we are - kzt bsht - ithout becoming detected.”

I understood it that time. They were hiding in the clouds it seems. How close they were was unclear, nor what altitude they were. There was also the potential fundamental problem that they could be using the imperial measurement system instead of metric, like how I was using, to throw me off. But wherever they are, they were really close.

“I see something.” Someone from Gryphus called out.

“What is it?” Spitfire answered

“It’s… something. I can’t say it’s an aircraft, because it’s not. But whatever shape it is, it’s big, and hiding in the clouds.”

“Weird. How far is it?”

“Eh, about… eight to twelve klicks. Give or take. Can’t make out what it is.”

“Okay, roger that. Do you see anything else?”

“Negative.”

“Alright, climb higher and find out what it is. The rest of you, maintain formation.”

Then I heard something that finally gave me a clue to where the enemy was. More voices emit from my left ear.

“Maintain formation and stay above 1000 meters. If we stay just above the lower cloud layer, we’ll slip through easily.”

I glanced downward to my left, after rolling my plane a bit to the side. I saw a couple of cracks through the clouds, revealing a greyish ocean that somehow looked colder than before. Through one of the cracks I saw a mass of shapes glide underneath us… and nobody noticed it.

“I see them! They’re below us!” I yelled through the mask. “Naya, dive! Dive now!”

“What? Below us?” Spitfire repeated, clearly confused of what’s happening. I proceeded to dip my plane downward, towards the crack in the clouds below us. Naya was following close behind.

“Wait… I see them too! They were hiding in the clouds below us!” Somepony else called out.

“Ah shit! Okay, dive! Intercept them immediately!” Soon after, more planes began to fly downward. I was ahead of everypony, Naya beside me to my left as we continued to descend. Soon, we were speeding very fast, and very far down, until we were below the cloud cover. As soon as I could see around me, I found - not one, but several - large formations of bombers. No fighter escorts. Strange. But I counted at least 20 or so bombers before moving to engage.

I heard more voices on my left ear. "Contact! 6 o’clock level! They found us!"

More allied planes broke through the clouds as tracers began to fill the air around me. And once again, chaos ensued.

I began the engagement against several 111s, diving down above them as I sent gold tracers striking their craft. They soon dissipated into recognizable shards of steel and aluminum. Soon, they began to spread out, from panic and shock at their casualties I assumed. 

I zoomed past the formation, descending downward as pieces of the bombers fell down with me. I pulled back on the stick to elevate upward and engage them again. It was at that moment that my plane began to vibrate and shake, before it spun flatly to the right. Soon, I found myself in a flat spin, descending downward.

“Night Light, respond. Are you alright?” Naya called out in my right ear. I didn’t answer. I stepped my left hind leg down on the rudder, trying to counteract the momentum of the spin. While doing so, I carefully tried to steer the nose of my craft downward, to gain speed and energy. Soon, the plane was now in a barrel roll instead of a flat spin, and I carefully elevated upward. As this was happening, I saw the ocean rapidly closing in on me. It reminded me of that Nightmare I keep having…

No! 

No, not like this! 

I gave it everything I had, and pulled the stick back as far as I could. My speed was well above 500 knots, and my altitude was even lower than that in meters. As my plane began to stabilize and climb, it barely missed the flat churning plane of water, spraying water behind me as I flew just over. Once I began to gain altitude, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Night Light Are you okay??” Naya asked again. I pulled the mask to my face.

“Yeah yeah, I’m good.” I half-casually responded, even though I nearly defecated myself from such a near-death experience.

“All planes, give me a sitrep: What’s the status on those bombers?” Spitfire called out.

“It's gone pear-shaped! We’ve lost 5 of our guys already.”

“Fuck- a-alright, Keep up the pressure. If we kill more of them, they’ll break. Gryphus, gimme a roll call.”

They didn’t respond. 

While this was happening, I saw the bombers above me gradually getting closer to the city. The fighting had ensued for only about 5 minutes, and we weren’t making any big progress. 

“Gryphus, respond! What’s happening over there?” again, no response.

“All units, we’re 7 minutes out from the city. Maintain formation.” a voice spoke in my left ear. We’re running out of time…

“Affirmative. Once we’ve done our job, the Aigaion will finish them off. Prioritize Destruction over Accuracy." another one spoke.

At that transmission, I felt something familiar. Something only scarcely felt when all my attentionwas diverted to myself. 

I felt rage. 

They were intent on destroying everything. And at that moment, I felt like I was responsible for all of those ponies down below me. I felt like I was doing everything I could, and yet it would not be enough.

But the fury was palpable enough for me to try it anyway.

I gained altitude once more, aiming for the front bomber formation. I found myself right underneath their blind spot. There would be no turret protecting them from that angle. As I was about a few hundred meters below them, I revved the throttle forward and pulled the trigger. Some of the tracers struck home and tore a wing off, its wreckage speeding past me as I climbed upward above the formation. 

After I was a good distance in front of them, I turned to the right and flew straight downward from above them. As I suspected, their front gunners tried to open up on me, and almost all of them were missing; I was in their dead zone.

More golden tracers were sent from my craft, as communications on both ears were getting hectic. I heard sporadic bits and pieces of dialogue that I could faintly make out on both sides. But it was impossible to interpret them all at once. It mostly consisted of panic from both sides as they were suffering casualties.

More bombers began to fall down to the ocean below as I shot them down one by one. After I zoomed past them, again and again, their gunners barely missing me with each bout. Each time I zoomed past, I squeezed the trigger. Each time, a bomber falls to the earth. 

“Where the fuck is our escort? We're getting slaughtered out here!” my left ear heard more Changeling voices.

	“Stay cool, it won’t be long now. They can’t shoot all of us down. The Aigaion will maintain air superiority once we’ve done our job.” 

There’s that name again… what the fuck is ‘Aigaion’?

“All planes, Las Pegasus have picked up more aircraft approaching from the Northwest. Looks like fighters.” Spitfire announced.

“No! Sapphire lead is down!”

“Berry, get a grip! You gotta take over command!”

“How many of them are there?!” One mare screeched.

I performed the same strategy as I engaged the bomber formation again. With each time I pass by them, at least one or two of them were shot down. They were steadily withering, but about 10 or 12 still remained. Soon though, there won’t be any. If I can’t stop the damage, then I’ll make sure the ones who caused it won’t get back alive. 

More golden tracers strike their planes, the 20 Mil Cannons ripping them to shreds. It only required a small burst to shoot one down. The only problem was the ammo count was much smaller, meaning I can’t spray and pray. I’ll have to be selective on my targets.

At that moment, spitfires from the East, appearing seemingly out of thin air, began to swarm the formation. More and more of them began to fall and burn. It was the reserves that were loitering over Las Pegasus. They arrived just in time to stop the first formation.

“Group one has been shot down. Groups two and three are still in pursuit!”

“We’re almost there. Keep flying, we’ll make them pay.” As the voice concluded, more and more bombers in formation emerge from the thick cumulonimbus that stretched to the aethers.

There was no way we could stop them all in time... there was just too many.

“All planes, they’re over the Gulf, engage at will!” Another pony called out.

“Gryphus, this is Wonderbolt Lead, respond! What the fuck is happening over there?” Once again, no response was heard. 

They might have been shot down… but from what? Maybe it was the fighters that Spitfire was warning us about?

“Ah forget it - Wonderbolts, on me! Let’s fry these Bugs!” Spitfire ordered.

“3 minutes out.” the voice in my left ear announce again.

I turned my plane to the North to engage the second group of bombers, and more allied planes began to do the same thing. Green and Golden tracers danced in the sky around me. Aircraft from both sidwere falling down to the earth. Some on fire, some in pieces, some not even recognized as a plane; just bits of metal. I saw one of our spitfires catch fire and fall down.

Some of the green tracers were striking my craft, poking holes all over my wings. Thankfully, the bird of steel was still flying despite the damage. Although my plane was littered with holes, it was still airborne and flyable. I still have ammo left, though not a lot. 

“2 Minutes out… Pilot to Bombardier, your ship.”

	“Bombardier to Pilot, roger that.”

“We’re running out of time. All planes, give it everything we got!” I ordered my team in the mask. “Bigs, Lucky, intercept them immediately!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” Bigs replied.

“I’m coming from up top, 12 o'clock high! Watch out!” Lucky called out. 

More fiery wrecks of bombers descended downward to the earth, but the number of bombers that still remained was not enough to minimize the damage… there was no avoiding it. Soon, Flak started to erupt in the sky. 

“Pod 5 has been hit! We’re down to 8 in the second group!”

“Keep it steady! 1 more minute!”

“Opening bomb bay doors!”

I saw the bombers beginning to drop altitude a little bit, but not going down. They were gaining speed and preparing to release the Payload.

“Everypony, now or never! SHOOT DOWN THOSE BOMBERS!” I screamed.

The number of Golden tracers that filled the sky seemed to have increased tenfold. And steadily, one by one, more bombers were going down.

... But it wasn’t enough. Soon, I saw many small, cylinder shaped objects - Bombs, I assumed - drop from the bomb bay doors. There were at least 80 bombs, most likely more, that were dropping towards the city. Soon after, the bombers veered Northbound, away from the city.

“Bombs away, bombs away!”

“We’re done here! pull off, pull off! Aigaion will finish them off!” That stupid name was starting to get on my nerves. What the fuck is an ‘Aigaion’?!

“They dropped their payload! They’re breaking formation.”

“Nimbus, Dash, intercept the third formation! Move it!” Spitfire barked through my right ear. Only a handful of bombers from the second group were still airborne, with more on the way.

Soon, I saw a flash of light to my right as my plane faced west. It erupted like a torrent of lightning from the earth. I saw it was coming from Las Pegasus, as I saw light emit from the ground. Seconds later, that light transformed into a giant blaze.

A blaze of fire.

“What is going on? The city is on fire!” Somepony called out.

“It’s… it’s spreading. The whole city is gonna go up in flames!”

“Those must’ve been Thermobaric Bombs!“

“Oh my God... it's burning everything!”

The inferno was slowly starting to seep into the many buildings that cluster around the harbor. Soon, they were burning to the ground until nothing but glass remained. Staring at the fire, I felt more rage well up inside me. There were still ponies inside those homes down there, and they could be burning…

“Night Light, what are your orders now?” Bigs called out in my right ear. I felt a single tear run down my left cheek, as I pulled the mask slowly to my face.

“Garuda team…” I didn’t finish my sentence; I struggled to hold back more tears. 

“Night Light?!” Bigs asked.

The third formation of Bombers flew into view as they broke through the clouds. Spitfires were swarming them from all sides, sending golden tracers towards them as they fired back. I felt numb to the core. 

It was too much; the chaos, the destruction, the overwhelming adversity, the sensory overload of voices screaming in my ears. For a moment, I thought I had gone deaf as shellshock took hold of me.

And like a stream of water clearing a channel through the grime, a heard something in the eavesdropper that stood out to me.

“Pod 7 to Aigaion, payload delivered and the mantle is yours.”

“Aigaion to Pod, roger that. We’re moving into position now… All planes, assume defensive formations!”

I screamed out loud in frustration. This Aigaion character was really starting to piss me off. As I flew closer to the third formation, I fired my cannons with reckless abandon, tearing their hull to literal shreds as their wrecks dropped to the ocean below. But it wasn't enough as soon, the third formation released their payload as well, adding more fuel to the Inferno.

“The third group has completed their course… Aigaion, the rest is on you.” 

“Aigaion confirms orders. Moving to establish Air Superiority.” 

The bomber formation began to spread and dissipate, leaving nothing but a burning city, smoke, planes, bullets, and flak filling the sky. Many of the escort planes that were engaging us began to pull off and veer away from the furball that was being developed. Soon, it looked like they were retreating.

"They're falling back! Do we pursue?"

"Negative, let them run! No point risking our lives now." Spitfire orders to all planes.

Before anyone could reply, there was a sound.

A new sound pierced the veiled air of the storm in front of us. It was loud, ominous, and mighty. 

A deep, and long bellow of a foghorn was heard, seemingly from the heavens itself as it seemingly manifested without any sort of origin. 

Soon, I saw flashes of light shine through the clouds.

“What the hell is that noise!?” Lucky asked.

Soon, the clouds began to fade and twirl away, revealing a new shape… one I have never seen. 

It had a polymer-like material, for a giant balloon that was effortlessly gliding through the air. The horn sounded again, just as awful as the first time I heard it. 

The underbelly of this beast was mostly metal, with many industrial-sized propellers accelerating it forward and several arcane-looking engines underneath that carried propulsion upward. It boasted massive cannons sticking out from seemingly every direction, and machine gun ports in nearly the same spots. Spotlights below the ship were flashing their beams of light everywhere. It was a geometric shape that seemed to have consumed the clouds around it.

As it came into full view, the foghorn sounded once again. Loud enough to pierce the glass of the Cockpit and overlap the sounds of the engine rumbling.

“What in the fuck?! What in Tartarus is that fucking thing?!” A mare screamed through the radio.

Embedded at the very front of this monstrosity was cursive writing:

Aigaion
> (A2) - Finale: Shadow of Giants
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 2, Finale: Shadows of Giants



“A quiet darkness fell across the world...”







Night Light


“An airship...” Grim started. “The Aigaion was a massive airship?”

“Yes. A terrifying one at that.” I shuddered as memories began to surface in my mind. The ever-so-familiar horn replayed in my head over and over...

“So... an airship was what set the public in panic, burned Las Pegasus, and destroyed most of our aircraft production at the time." He gives a tired sigh. 

"No wonder ponies were afraid. A giant flying machine will scare a lot of people, and cause a lot of damage. When I first heard rumors about it, I thought nothing of it. I thought it was just wartime anxiety getting the better of some ponies.”

“Now you know. You know what the Aigaion is.” I explained. “Now, can me and Sunshine leave? I gave you what you want.”

“Just wait a moment. I’ll return.” I attempted to raise a hoof in protest, but Grim quickly left the room, leaving me alone to my thoughts. 

The afternoon sky was just now starting to change color, transitioning to early evening. About 5 hours or so have passed by, trudging slowly along feeling like an eternity. How much more time do I have to spend separated from Sunshine? It still didn’t make any sense to me why S.M.I.L.E. wanted this kind of information, or what their intentions are. They were proving to be morally ambiguous thus far. 

I sighed as I continued to stare through the window. No noise was heard. Just a silent, muffling ambiance filled the room. The walls around me remained monotone. 

Then, the door opened again. This time, there was another pony I didn’t recognize, followed by Grim leading him in. This pony was a Unicorn Stallion, with a white coat and blonde mane.

Grim remained standing on his hooves, while his acquaintance sat in the chair in front of me.

“Okay. This gentlepony here is going to assist us today by giving us a clear illustration of what this airship looks like to the best of his ability.” Grim pointed a hoof to the scrawny-looking stallion, who waved once at me. “I want you, to the best of your ability, describe what the Aigaion looked like. In-depth and in detail; What material was it made from, what shape was it, how long or how wide—anything that’ll give us a clear picture.”

The scribe pony in front of me remained silent and stoic. A common trait I’m seeing a lot of with these ponies. He levitated a piece of paper, and a pencil, ready for me to begin. “Whenever you’re ready.” He spoke softly.

“Can I leave afterward?” I asked once more, with a hint of indignation. The scribe pony looked down on his paper, silently. Grim just sighed.

“That depends on how well you can describe the airship. But, we’ll see.” 

I gazed at the scribe pony, expecting him to ask questions, starting with what it was. But he was silent, insisting me to proceed first. I took a deep breath.

“... Well, it was…”





Huge!

That was the first thing I thought of when I saw the Aigaion with my own eyes. It was Massive. Bigger than Canterlot Castle, and higher than a city, with the length of about 2 arenas if they were put together side by side. In short, all it was was a giant, metallic, rod-shaped balloon with big guns.

The second thing I remember from when I first saw the Aigaion was me sitting inside the cockpit canopy staring at the strangely haunting beast in the sky with eyes wide open. From that moment when I saw the words Aigaion embedded at the front side of the metal hull, I felt something else. Something I was all too familiar with: Fear. I was underneath a literal flying giant. Its size was more than enough to strike terror in the hearts of many. But the ever droning sound of the horn that it was blaring was what made feel terrified. It had an overwhelming presence of power and terror.

It was a monsterous titan of a vehicle. I swallowed hard.

“What in the fuck is that!?” I heard Bigs yell in my right ear.

“It’s… It’s a… oh god.” Lucky stuttered.

“A monster...” Naya quietly spoke.

“All squads, regroup over the harbor, now!” Spitfire barked, as the AA guns from the city and the fleet opened up on the flying behemoth. Flak decorated the sky around it, doing nothing to the structural integrity of the ship. A few allied planes attempted to shoot at the balloon with their cannons, which also did no damage. Those same planes were later swarmed by a hail of bullets that erupted from the mounted machine guns on the Aigaion. They were easily shot down. The Airship seemed virtually indestructible.

Whatever remained of the allied planes began to gather over the harbor, loitering over the continuous wildfire that has enveloped Las Pegasus. We all formed up in a big cluster, flying away from the behemoth.

“How the fuck are we supposed to fight that thing?!” A stallion exclaimed.

“Everything we’re throwing at it seems to be doing nothing. We’ll have to strategize on this.” Spitfire started. “All planes who are critically damaged, low on ammo, or fuel, return to base now. The rest who aren’t, climb above it as high as you can. Nimbus, Dash, draw fire from it as we try to get above it. Understood?”

“Roger that! Nimbus, on me!” Another stallion spoke.

“The rest of you, climb high! Get above it and stay in the gunners’ dead zone!”

“Garuda, on me. Accelerate and climb behind me!” I ordered.

“Affirmative!” Naya replied.

One by one, planes began to hastily move in different directions. About 12 planes descended below the Aigaion, as mounted machine guns opened up on them. They all evaded and twisted, barely dodging the bullets. About 10 more planes were heading northeast to return to base. And about 30 more planes, my team included, began to ascend upward above the metallic beast. As I was climbing higher above the Aigaion, I noticed that the top of the balloon was also metallic, much like the bottom. And it also had massive artillery-like guns fixated to it, with more machine guns as well. Soon, they began to open up on the planes above them.

“Everypony, spread out and evade!” Spitfire screamed, as allied planes began to spiral downward and twist away from the behemoth. My team and I flew away from each other in different directions, to minimize the potential casualties. I stayed above it, Naya beside me, while Lucky and Bigs were diving down below it. 

“Aigaion to Strigon Team, prepare to scramble. Launching sequence initiated.” I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Strigon is here too?! That’s fucking fantastic.

“Strigon to Aigaion, we copy. Ready to launch on your mark.”

I performed a barrel roll to my right, dodging incoming fire as I attempted to strafe one of the machine gun emplacements fixated atop the airship. The 20 MM Cannons opened up, disintegrating the nest into a burning heap.

“Uh… guys? Something is happening.” Lucky called out. “It’s opening its underbelly, it looks like giant bay doors.”

Shit! If they get over the city and drop more ordnance, Las Pegasus could be completely wiped out with the fire burning down most of the city anyway. I twisted my plane to the right, to avoid the AA fire. I descended downward on one of the batteries firing on another plane, and unleashed more tracers upon it, earning a small explosion from the gun. Another battery destroyed. Now they had their attention fixated on me, as I was descending downward below the underbelly.

“Doors are open, begin launch sequence!”

“Roger. Strigon, are you ready?”

“Affirmative.”

“Beginning launch, in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… LAUNCH!”

Suddenly, dozens of wide trident shaped planes were spiraling downward, launched form the huge set of doors. As soon as they were fast enough, they elevated upward and leveled out. 

“What is that? A-are they launching fighters from that ship?!” A mare called out.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Spitfire cursed. 

“Nothing’s working! Our guns don’t do fuck all to that thing!”

“Night Light,” Naya called out. “It’s the Reaper’s Emblem…”

“I know!” I replied bitterly.

My eyes were fixated at the giant airship in awe and horror. The Strigon Squadron, one by one, was launching from the bay doors. I let out a yell in frustration, slamming my hoof against the cockpit glass. Were the bombers incinerating Las Pegasus really not enough for them?!

“Strigon lead to Aigaion, launch successfully. Engaging hostile aircraft.”

“Roger that. Sweep the skies clear of enemy combatants. We’ll provide covering fire.” 

The green tracers emitting from the Aigaion AA guns showed no sign of stopping. In fact, after that last transmission, it seemed to have increased. I flew downward, gaining a good distance between me and the flying beast. Our bullets weren’t doing anything to its hull. The only damage that it sustained was the 2 gun batteries being knocked out of commission. There were various Spitfires that turned away from the Aigaion to engage the enemy Strigon squadron. 

We have to change our tactics. Until I could find some kind of weakness against the airship, there was no hope to achieve any serious damage. The only thing I could do was destroy it’s smaller batteries, though I don’t know if that’ll do much help. The Strigons certainly won’t make our job any easier. I have to drag them out of the equation first.

But how? They were no strangers to combat. I was badly damaged in the first confrontation with them, and in my second one I barely survived! I couldn’t just engage them head-on, especially with a fucking airship! 

I contemplated my chances. We had the numerical advantage and the better aircraft. But they were just more skilled. And with their air cover, it would be significantly more difficult. I had to get them as far away from the Aigaion as possible.

“Garuda team, dive below the airship and rendezvous on me! We need to clear the sky of these Strigons. Follow the yellow smoke!” I ordered, as I flipped the aeronautic smoke switch, making my wings trail yellow powder in the air.

I descended below the Aigaion and leveled out, still a good distance away from the airship. It’s guns were opening up on all planes around it, regardless if they were friendly or enemy. One by one, I saw planes erupt into flames, and spiral out of control towards the ocean below. Casualties will no doubt be high.

“Sergeant Spitfire, this is Corporal Night Light, I have a plan!” I called out on lead channel.

“What is it?!”

“The airship seems too durable for us to handle! We’ll be out dry before we can even put a dent in that thing!” The ever-so-ominous horn sounded from the airship again, sending chills up my spine.

“We need to focus on the fighters, clear the sky of them first. Draw them away from the airship. Get them as far away from the AA cover as you can! Then we can fight on an even playing field!”

Spitfire was silent for a while, which felt like an eternity. The sky was filled with smoke and bullets, and was tinted with an orange light by the fires from the city below. More planes from the mainland were incoming from the East. Reinforcements had arrived. 

I looked behind me, and saw Naya, Lucky, and Bigs form up behind me. Their planes were filled with holes on their wings and body, same as mine. But we were still airborne, and as long as we were, we were still combat effective.

Finally, Spitfire broke the silence, speaking to everypony. 

“All planes, fall back and separate. Regroup over the harbor and goad the enemy to follow you there! Out!”

Though visibility was poor, I saw the cluster of planes swarming around the airship, and noticed that small groups of them were peeling away. The Strigon planes didn’t pursue, however. They shot their guns at the retreating aircraft, failing to score any hits.

“They’re falling back. They can’t do any damage to us!” I heard the Eavesdropper speak.

“We’ve got the initiative. Strigon Team, intercept them and finish them off.”

“Understood. Strigon 2 through 5, peel off and defend the mothership. The rest of you, form on me and break hard on my signal.”

There were multiple planes that were still loitering around the Aigaion, but a majority of them finally peeled off to give chase. They bought our bait. 

As long as we were out of range from the Airship’s guns, we had the advantage.

“They’re pursuing now! Wonderbolts, we got hostiles incoming bearing vector 268!” 

“Acknowledged! It’s time for some payback. Give them all we got!”

The Spitfires and Strigons turned to face each other, closing in fast. Soon, they opened fire, and all of them scrambled to chase one another. My team was closing in on the chaos. 

“Stay outside of the cluster, and let them come to us!” I ordered my squad. “I’ll lure them over, all of you will help intercept. Stay out of their range, and attack when their guard is down.” 

As I broke hard to the right, towards the cluster of aircraft, several of them veered off of the furball to intercept me.

I left the aeronautics smoke switch flipped down as I engaged, my wings spewing out yellow vapor as I flew forward being as much of a nuisance as possible. The Aigaion is barely visible in my peripherals with each maneuver I complete. As soon as I was in gun range, and as I was lining up my crosshairs, I pulled the trigger again on any unsuspecting foe. A few tracers connected to one of the Strigons, losing a wing as it was going down.

“Strigon 10 is going down. Who shot him down?” I heard a voice in my left ear call out. 

I inverted and performed an Immelmann as I was chasing another Strigon, sending more golden tracers downward to them. They also connected, but it only achieved smoke emitting from its engine. I gave chase, as I continued to fire at him. It rolled and elevated erratically, in an effort to evade me.

“I got one on my six! 7, get ‘em off me!” another voice called out. 

The Strigon started to ascend upward towards cloud cover, in an attempt to stall me out. But I was a step ahead of him. I pressed the trigger again leading him on just before he went inside the clouds. They turn faster when elevating upward, so I aimed higher. 

This time, the bullets struck the fuselage in perfect symmetry, causing the whole plane to explode into unrecognizable shards. Through the thick canopy, I could see the light of a burning fuselage. 

Another kill. I performed a Split-S to regain my speed after climbing upward for that kill.

“Strigon 9 is down too. I didn’t see him bail out!”

“Who is that damned plane with the yellow smoke? They shot down 2 of us already! Target that aircraft now!”

Now I have their attention.

I leveled my plane and glanced behind me, noticing three of the Strigons breaking off and giving chase to me. I plunged downward at a slight angle, gaining speed without losing too much altitude.

“Garuda Team, they’re on me now. Get ready to intercept! Naya, Lucky; you two will Sandwich on the enemy. Bigs, I want you to go from above, dive down on whoever is chasing me.”

“Sounds like a plan," Naya replies. "You ready Lucky?"

"Roger, as I'll ever be."

I saw my friends ahead of me shift into position, ready to rain bullets on the enemy. Two of them broke off to the right, flanking the enemy aircraft. Only one of them stood their ground, accelerating towards me. I glanced back behind me, and saw Naya and Lucky approach the enemy group from their right.

“Spitfires inbound, 2 o'clock high!”

“Roger, break when they engage!”

“Naya, Lucky, they know you’re coming. Get ready!” I warned immediately afterward.

I looked ahead and saw Big’s plane zooming closer. I inverted the plane downward and heard cannons fire from behind me, mixed with sounds of metal being shredded and annihilated. 

I looked back as I pulled back on the stick and saw one of the Strigons trailing black smoke, fleeing to the west.

“Dammit! They hit me good!” I climbed back upward again, barely able to dodge the incoming retaliation from the Strigons by only a few meters. 

Naya and Lucky descended downward upon one unsuspecting foe, both firing simultaneously, and down he goes with a missing wing.

“Number 3 is gone too? Who the fuck are these guys!?”

I banked hard right, to chase the plane trailing black smoke. It seemed unaware of my presence. By the time I opened up on him with my guns, he began to erratically swerve left and right to evade. I was steadily gaining on him. He banked hard right on me, trying to evade, but my plane was turning faster than his. As my crosshairs were leading in front of him, I pressed the trigger again. The black smoke that he was trailing now turned into a raging fire that enveloped the aircraft.

“Shit, shit! my craft is in flames! I have to bail!” As I watched the burning plane, a single black changeling sprung and flew out of the cockpit and veered away as fast as he could.

I was tempted. I wanted to chase him.

But I thought of it as a waste of ammo.

“Strigon 7 bailed out, he’s been shot down!”

“FUCK! We’re losing the initiative! Strigon team, fall back and regroup near the Aigaion! We can’t afford to lose any more!” 

I turned my head behind me to find no other Strigons chasing me. leveling out, I then turned my head northbound and saw the furball of planes dissipating one by one. There were several fireballs of former aircraft hurling toward the ocean floor. All of them seemed to be allied planes. 

Have they not killed a single Strigon?

“All planes, something’s happening. The enemy’s regrouping!” Spitfire called out in my right ear through the cacophony of voices crying out, as the Strigons were fleeing back to the safety of the Aigaion. The first few that arrived simply loitered around the airship, ready and waiting. 

Just then, I noticed tracers flying from the surface below me heading straight towards the Airship. 

When they collided, several explosions rocked the port side, though it remained airborne. It had charred spots on where the shells struck. More came in and struck several other spots on the underbelly.

Thats when I noticed the shells came from the warships that were still in the harbor, firing their big guns upward toward the enemy airship. A few of their shells flew past the airship, missing it entirely, but the few who did connect caused a good amount of damage. The Strigons that were loitering around the airship bobbed and weaved to avoid the enemy fire.

“Enemy Warships are opening fire on us. Strigon Team we’re activating the shield! Activate your inhibitors now!” 

... Shield? Inhibitors? 

“Affirmative. If we can trap them all, they’ll be easy pickings.” I glanced to my right to find the allied planes flying in towards the airship carelessly. 

There, suddenly piercing the din of battle, a new sound was heard all around in the air, as if the earth itself was crying out. Though, it emitted from the Aigaion. It sounded like a humming, low and distant at first. 

But it kept increasing volume, more and more until it sounded like something would explode.

“Roger, beginning Manifestation Process.”

This felt bad. Everything about this felt bad.

“Everypony, get out of there now!” I yelled out in lead channel to warn the others.

“What’s?” Spitfire's voice replied as several planes started to turn away, to avoid whatever was happening with the Aigaion… But some were too late. 

At that moment, there was a deafening ‘CHOOM!’ sound, and I saw a spherical, blue bubble slowly zoom out around the ship, emitting from the center of its hull. The planes passed through easily, not hitting anything, but tried to turn around to evade otherwise in a panic. When the sphere itself stopped expanding, it’s saturation intensified as a wave of energy resonated off of it and locked it in place. 

Some planes that managed to turn back were trapped. 

Then, to my horror, I saw the planes that were still inside crash into the bubble, exploding upon impact. 

Others were trapped inside of the bubble avoiding collision, helplessly flying around inside trying to find an escape. 

At that moment, gun ports from the airship's underbelly opened up on them. They didn’t stand a chance.

I watched in helpless horror as I saw this monster continuously take the lives of so many helpless pilots. I watched as the shells tracing from the warship bounced and glance off of the shield, achieving nothing but sparks.

No voices were heard on the channel. Only stunned silence, until I heard Lucky speak in my right ear. 

“Oh, that’s not even FAIR!” He yelled out in frustration.

“Just what the fuck is that monster!?” Bigs joined in.

The Strigons that were inside the shield were loitering around the ship; protecting it I assumed. They can’t get out though... I think. They’re trapped, forced to fight defensively. We can’t do any more damage, and neither can they. That was something, I think. Had they not thought that through? 

“Aigaion to Strigon Team, manifestation is complete. Inhibitors are now in full effect!”

“Strigon 1 to Aigaion, roger that.”

Suddenly after that Transmission, the Shield pulsated with the energy of a different kind. 

I can only say “different” because of the color it was. The last resonation of the shield I had witnessed was blue, much like the color of the sky. This time though, it was bright maroon. The shield now had a hint of red and blue particles that were - to the best that I could describe it as - “Dancing” around the sphere of the shield.

“Opening gun ports. Howitzers, aim at vector 164 at gridref 547-456. The fire mission is 5 shells. Steering hard left, bearing 056.”

With that, I saw the giant cannons atop the airship swivel toward the east, elevating their guns upward. Meanwhile, the airship steered to the northeast, heading further into the city, where some parts haven’t been damaged by the flames yet.

Then the guns fired.

I saw a flash of light emit from the three howitzers Simultaneously as they released their ordnance. The shells effortlessly glide through the shield from the inside. 

At first there was no sound. 

Then, a tremendous shockwave washed over the air around me, violently shaking my already damaged aircraft. The blast from the gun alone was enough to create a shockwave, making me terrifyingly skeptical of the damage that weapon could cause.

My eyes were fixed on the sight of this almost mythical beast that flew before me. Time seemed to slow down momentarily. There was chaos ensuing all around me, and yet I felt a strange stillness wrack over me. 

Everything felt slow, dissociated, almost like a dream; a dream of me being underwater. My hearing also seemed to fail me. It sounded like I had cotton candy stuffed in the holes.

In utter disbelief I saw hundreds upon hundreds of green and white tracers fly out of the airship and phase through the shield, aiming at the remaining cluster of allied planes that flew idly over the harbor. Many of the planes didn’t have time to react and were shot up badly. I watched helplessly from afar as aircraft caught fire all around and plummet to the earth. 

It was a death trap. 

And we were caught flies in a web.

“Fuck!” I heard Lucky yell in my right ear, barely hearable through my shell-shocked state. I wasn’t even thinking anymore. It was like I was on autopilot. 

I was just going through the motions, to keep moving and to stay alive. But I didn’t feel anything anymore. 

I felt hollow and numb, mixed with an uncanny amalgamation of fear and adrenaline.

I felt my aircraft let out a shudder as it was struck by a hail of bullets. There was no hiding from it, we could only dodge it, or try and escape. My mind raced. 

How was this possible? How could such a terrifying weapon and creation be allowed to exist without us even getting a hint of its arrival? Until now?, at seemingly the worst possible time?

I could hear garbled and indistinct voices in both ears. I stared silently as the formation of allied planes break apart one by one. With each plane that was shot down, my heart sank even deeper in my chest.

All of the sudden, I could hear again. 

There was a pop, and a hissing squelch in my left ear that replaced its previous voices, loud enough for me to snap out of my stunned state and finally focus again. A familiar voice spoke to me.

“Night Light, listen carefully!” 

... It was... Doc?

“The enemy is too powerful to fight against. You have no hope of fighting against that thing, not without getting yourself killed. And more of your comrades are falling as each second passes by. We have no information about the airship - this Aigaion - to give us any indication on how we can exploit its vulnerabilities. We can’t risk anymore casualties.

“Which is why you must retreat.” He insisted. I was about to protest until I remember Doc's words about this thing being a one-way device. 

“The damage has been done, and staying there any longer will only get you killed and risks us losing the technology you possess.” 

Doc’s concern with a piece of tech over pony lives was starting to become unsettling to me. Especially with my life in his hooves.

“Order your squad to pull out of the combat zone, and fly to vector 175, to the south. Fly straight for an hour, and land on the same desert airfield where you took off from when you were missing. Do not fly towards the Blueblood." He speaks the last line with urgent emphasis. 

"I will explain everything. For now, though, your top priority should be to survive. Get out of there!” and with that, the same hiss and pop emitted in my left ear, restoring communications.

It took me a moment to realize what Doc had just asked me to do. But once he was gone, the realization sunk in.

I was to desert my position.

“We’ve lost Sapphire Squadron! They’ve all been shot down!” A mare screeched in hoof-pounding terror. More panicked voices flooded the comms channel as I gathered my bearings.

I then realized at that moment that I was forced to make a choice: My new goal from Doc was to escape and survive, and that alone was not very high in probability to succeed. 

How much lower would it be if others were doing the same thing? It was either survive with small numbers, and use the cover of the chaos around me to escape, or to guide the others back to safety, away from the storm of bullets. But where would they go? 

“Night Light, what should we do now?” Naya asked abruptly, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice as my squad flew close behind me. I gazed at every aircraft around me. 

More of us were being shot down.

... I am a coward.

“Okay Garuda Team, listen to me very carefully. We’re pulling out. We have to escape. I…” 

I paused, trying to find the right thing to say. How could I convince my team to go AWOL while following me, to lead them to safety? 

I couldn’t do so without making it sound like desertion. I decided to just plainly tell them the truth. I silently hoped I knew what I was doing. 

“... Fly bearing 175 to the south, and do not stop. Maintain radio silence while doing so. We have to leave the combat airspace, and the Blueblood is not an option.” I lied.

“Wait, Night are you suggesting-” Bigs started to speak.

“Yes, I am.” I blankly finished for him.

No response. I looked back and saw my squad still following...

"That's... That's treason." Lucky's voice whispered. 

“Listen to me,” I softly reasoned, “the enemy has already done the damage, and I am getting no word from the Blueblood or from Las Pegasus airfield. Spitfire certainly will not agree with this decision, but it’s either this or we all die! I am giving you a chance here! I’m only offering this because it’s our only chance of survival.” 

I realized halfway through my sentence how selfish I was sounding. 

I am a coward.

“... it’s your choice. Follow me, or don't. But I won't force you either way.” I reiterated. 

No answer was immediately given. Only silence reigned. I cringed as I waited for shouts of outrage and shame, abhorring this aberration.

But Naya broke the silence first with something different.

"Don't weep, for that time has passed. We must endure, however we can. If this is the way, this is the way." She answers. "But I will want answers."

I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Lucky then spoke next. “... I feel like this isn’t going to end well…” He didn't change course despite his cautionary tone. "... But I guess it beats the alternative."

Two down.

Bigs didn’t speak. I was afraid he might actually decline, out of pride or... something else entirely to make him turn away. Or maybe report us. 

But before I could speak again to reassure him, he butted in first. 

“... Fuck it.” he answered. "Let's do it."

“Then stay close, and stay quiet. Maintain radio silence, and fly inside the clouds.” 

I turned off my squad channel and flew southbound. 

“All Teams, give me a Sitrep!” I heard Spitfire speak into my right ear. My heart was pounding. I didn’t respond. 

Maybe she’ll assume we’re dead if we stay quiet long enough? 

I wasn’t sure if I would be able to slip past without being noticed by other passing planes. But amidst the chaos of the battle above Las Pegasus, I thought I might have a chance. 

“Garuda Team, respond! Are you still alive?” Her voice was wavering, which I never heard before coming from Spitfire.

I felt guilty for doing this. No, more than that, it felt like I was killing them. I was leaving them behind die. a rational part of my brain tried to reason that it was impossible to save everypony. And I would most certainly die trying. Or even worse, my friends would.

It didn't convince me... I wanted to cry.

“Garuda Team, what’s going on? Respo-” I switched the control panel off, unable to listen to her voice anymore. I also took off the Eavesdropper, seeing as I was farther away from the action to tune in on what they were saying anyway.

I flew south, away from the Inferno. The din of gunfire was gone. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

I am a coward.





About 30 minutes have passed, and we were outside of range for anypony who happened to have a radio to tune in on us. I silently stared ahead as my damaged aircraft was shuddering at the damage it sustained. 

The last few hours were, no doubt, the most harrowing of my life. The battle over pegasi gulf wasn’t as fear-inducing as this, and the stormy escape over Mead Lake was more of a providence of chance than anything else. 

But this? This was the first time I actually felt honest to goddess horrified that I would die. I suddenly felt more appreciative and thankful that my friends survived.

I also had a very fortified suspicion and rage against Doc as well.

He had just ordered me to betray my country and to betray Spitfire as well, leaving them to die. Considering how close he is to Equestrian Military with his ‘profession’, I wondered: what was the point in all of this? Had I made a mistake? A fatal one, perhaps? Why would he want to meet me and my team as well in the middle of a battle?

Why did he choose to trust me with something like the Eavesdropper, only to tell me to betray everything I have to stand for?

I wanted to convince myself that his intentions were good. But the more I thought about it, the more foalish it felt. I felt as though I was wandering into my own demise, being controlled like a marionette. He did help me escape Las Pegasus prior from almost being executed as a Changeling spy, so it was hard to pin down on what set me off about him besides the fact he told me to run away. 

I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. He did say he would explain himself once we got here. Which was good, because I had a lot of questions to ask.

My companions stayed quiet during the whole trip thus far as I ordered them to, maintaining radio silence. Quiet tension was ripe in the air, despite being confined in this small cockpit. It felt claustrophobic for me, being a pegasus and all. But I sensed that my friends were still having doubts about my decision, and ultimately my leadership as well. 

Finally breaking the silence, I switched on the control panel. “Okay. We should be out of range of any frequency outside of our own.”

Nopony answered. So I continued, “I… I know you’re all having doubts. But, I promise you, I will explain everything… About why we are doing this.”

“Where are we even going?” Lucky asked first, tersely.

“To San Palomino Desert. There’s a derelict, unused airfield there that has been abandoned. We’ll land there, and discuss our plan next there.” I heard a scoff from Bigs in response.

“That doesn’t sound like the soundest plan. And it seems very improvised.”

“It’s better than nothing. And certainly better than dying.”  I finished weakly, not so convinced myself.

“Why are we doing this, Night Light? It’s one thing to tactically retreat. But this… this isn’t that.”

“I know. There’s…” I paused, trying to find the right words, but it failed to come to pass. 

I wasn’t so sure if this was a good idea myself. I mean, shit, it wasn’t even my idea to begin with.

Doc has to have a good explanation for this, right?

... Doc. 

It just came to me, at that moment, that I haven’t even told my friends about him. When they asked about my story, I only told them that I escaped Mead Lake, hitched a ride in Las Pegasus, and flew back to the Blueblood. 

I was under the impression at the time that this Eavesdropper, Doc, and all of this whole espionage business was a delicate matter, and one to be kept a secret. So I kept silent about that whole regard. 

Now that we were on our way to meet up with him though, I realized that there were going to be a lot more questions afterward because I left them in the dark.

I wished I had told them sooner.

“There is, uh... There’s a certain somepony we are going to meet. His name is Doc. He helped me before. And right now, he’s trying to help all of us again. He’s the reason why we’re going there now, and the reason why I am alive.” 

I was about to say I trust him, but that wouldn’t be true. 

As polite and helpful as he was, he was very confidential and unusual. And I only spoke to him once, so that wasn’t saying much.

“But why? What’s so important about this ‘Doc’ character anyway? If you ask me, it sounds like a load of horseshit.”

“Because he is the reason I am here right now, and the reason why either of you isn’t lying dead in the metallic coffin that is your plane right now.” 

... I’ll admit, it was a rather harsh thing to say. But this was a tense situation. This wasn't the best time for inquiring curiosity.

“There are also some things that I haven’t told you about what happened in Mead Lake. I promise though, when we get there, I will explain everything.”

"... Why not now?" Lucky asked.

"Let's focus on getting there in one piece first, before we start talking."

Again, no response. I felt the doubt of my friends beginning to wash over me, like a cold blanket enveloping my being. 





“And then we…” 

I paused.

… Shit.

“... Then what?” Grim Hooves asked impatiently.

Oh shit. 

How do I lie about this? I can’t just tell an agent of S.M.I.L.E. Headquarters that I just went AWOL in the middle of battle! 

It would most certainly get me, or Sunshine into Jail, Prison, or worse! 

How do I do this? 

Maybe… say that they ordered us to retreat?... no that wouldn’t be very convincing. They’ve never made us retreat unless they knew we were absolutely beaten... which we were, but we still had aircraft left to fight with, and no official order was given. And it still didn't change the fact that I abandoned everypony else.

If I tried to lie, would he know? And if so, would he call me out on my lies? I couldn’t be sure. There were a lot of possibilities. I had to pick my words carefully.

Maybe… 

“... We… couldn’t damage it with the shield still activated. It was deflecting everything, and we were under constant fire. I… I saw several other aircraft turn course without saying a word. And in a spark of panic, all communication was disorganized and couldn’t be interpreted. More and more joined them, and all flew away, until we were one of the last few who still remained. At that point, We fled in different directions.

	“The, uh… The poor weather we were experiencing had us disorganized, and it made it hard to see. We soon were lost from the group. I found out that my team went the wrong way, and that we missed the fleet to land back on. I tried to turn course, flying back to the designated rendezvous point. But at that point, we were running on fumes, and there wasn’t a plane or ship in sight.”

Grim watched and listened closely, analyzing every bit of information I was feeding him. I stuttered endlessly, but only to fake it and make it look like I was too afraid to relive it, rather than sounding like I was lying through my teeth. It seemed to work; Grim was listening carefully, and the pony next to him (who was still drawing after about 30 minutes) was doing the finishing touches. The drawing that he was doing was impressively similar to the real thing, as he levitated the pencil back and forth, up and down; scritching and scratching along the paper.

“There was no communication with any higher chain of command. We couldn’t keep flying around that same location for too long, given as how low on fuel we were. And Las Pegasus was still burning by the time we left. I doubted their airfields survived at the time, so I… flew southeast. I took a Gamble and hoped to find an airfield somewhere to land before we ran out of fuel.”

“And you found one?” Grim asked.

“Sort of. This airfield was still in one piece and could be landable, but it was derelict. Barren of any life. It was as if though we were the first ones to land there in ages.” It wasn’t true. I was lying through my teeth, but it seemed to be working from what I could tell. Though, Grim still squinted his eyes at me, finding the story a little hard to believe.

“It was a strange set of events, to be sure. Luckily for us, there were abandoned petrol tanks that, by Celestia’s grace, still had some fuel in them. We refilled our tanks as quickly as possible and flew out again… to find the Blueblood. We got lucky…”

	“And then what?”

I hoped he bought it.





For about an hour and a half, I flew above churning water, barren hills, flat snowy plains, and deserts. But finally, we’ve arrived. I saw another large, twin-engine airplane parked at the entrance of the single hangar that was off to the side. I then noticed ponies moving around below us, as we touched down on the strip. They’ve arrived first, it seemed. I went first and taxied off to the side of the gravel runway to make room for my friends to land. Bigs came after me, then Lucky, and finally Naya.

I hopped out and hovered over the runway using my wings after I killed the engine, gazing at the landscape around me. It was mid-evening. Being it December, the air felt somewhat cool. There were clouds in the sky, but it wasn’t overcast. The sun was currently behind a cloud at this moment, hiding its rays of warmth. There was no snow, and it was nowhere near cold enough to start snowing. It felt… ‘normal’ was the only word I could think of.

My friends trotted up behind me, gazing at the desert and several different cacti that littered the landscape. “Where is this ‘Doc’ we’re supposed t’ be meetin’?” Lucky asked, his expression morphing into something like recognition. 

“He’s here, just follow me,” I spoke, hoping that he actually was here, and not just late. I saw a small group of ponies, and… a griffon, trotting toward us. I met up with them, my friends following close behind. 

When I got closer to them, I immediately recognized the griffon; it was the same one who helped watch over me after Doc knocked me unconscious, in this very same spot. 

Now that she wasn’t shrouded in darkness since the last time I saw her, I got a better look at her features. Her fur was Amber, with streaks of White that looked somewhat like lightning bolts tracing along her flanks and abdomen. Her eyes, one of them having a cut scar underneath its cheek, were colored teal. 

Another thing I noticed about her was that she had no tail. I didn’t see it since the last time I saw her, but there was a short and furry stump between her flanks where her tail should be. It looked as if it was cut off.

“Fancy meeting you here again, eh?” The griffon spoke, in her gruff-sounding tone. There were other ponies dressed similarly in long black coats that covered most of their bodies, including their flanks. Doc wasn’t found among them.

"'Again'?" Naya asked quizzically.

“Where’s Doc?” I rasped, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was.

“He’s in the Hangar with the other eggheads. Something about radios. Told me you were coming here.” She leaned over to my left, staring at my friends behind me. “Though, I wasn’t expecting four of you to show up.”

“They’re a part of my team. These are my friends.” I waved a hoof toward them as I made introductions. Lucky gave a 'Howdy', Naya gave a solemn bow, and Bigs shrugged.

“Oh. Cool.” She deadpanned. “Anyway, Doc’s expecting you at the hangar. Sometimes it’s hard to get his attention, he’s pretty drawn into his work.” She joked as she turned and trotted towards the hangar before stopping. “By the way, he only wants to talk to you, Night Light. Your friends will have to wait outside the hangar or something.”

I turned to gaze at my companions, who were trading looks of disapproval with one another before Lucky piped up, “We didn’t just desert our country and our army to wait outside of a hangar. We’re going with her, and that’s that.” He put his hoof down, emphasizing his words with each stomp. The Griffon looked unimpressed.

“That’s up to him, not me. I was told to have you wait outside.” she paused, contemplating, “But if you can change his mind, then I don’t care.” she shrugged.

“Does this ‘Doc’ always have to be this secretive? I feel like all of this Cloak and Dagger is pointless.” Naya inquired, as we all trotted closer to the hangar. 

She did raise a valid point. I had mixed emotions boiling up in my head about him.

“Can’t be too careful. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, especially in war. The enemy would, quite literally, kill to get their hooves on a lot of things. And in a world filled with spies, can you blame him?” She strutted forward, her hind legs swaying along with her hips which made me couldn’t help but stare.

She was a Griffon, yes, but an attractive one at that. At least, as attractive as Griffons can be. I don’t know if it was because of her casual demeanor or the fact that I haven't been with Sunshine in a year, but it made me feel flushed on my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to clear my head of such thoughts.

“Hey, Doc! The Ponies you talked about are here!” She yelled toward the small group of ponies that were all surrounding a weird contraption that was connected to some kind of black string. I then realized on closer inspection that it was a supercomputer, one of the very few that existed. What was one of those doing out here?

One white pony with a blonde mane emerges from the hangar, immediately staring at me. His eyes widened as they lock on mine. 

He turns back to his group, mouthing something to them I couldn’t hear, before trotting towards us with a smile. 

“Welcome, Garuda Team.” He greeted us with seemingly sincere gratitude. “First of all, I truly am sorry that I had requested you all to do what you did to get here. Let me reassure you, however, that I can get that squared away when you’re done here. Maybe not immediately, but at least you won’t go to prison for it.”

My friends and I glanced at each other with timid confusion. Doc, not missing a beat, kept going, “Secondly, I also would wish to speak to Night Light alone, before I announce what I am gonna do for you all.” He stared hard at me, twitching his eye pupils to his right at the Hangar, not moving his head. His facial expressions never shifted while doing this, and only I managed to notice it.

I paused. “But-”

“Nuh-uh!” Lucky interrupted. “She promised us an explanation, and I want one now!”

“That is the plan my good fellow, but I must discuss with Night Light very shortly about an important matter first.”

“Mind telling us what that important matter Is all about? And what is more important than us deserting our posts?”

Doc paused, his face stern with a noticeable frown. 

“Such information that I am disclosing is for ponies of a higher military rank, one that Night Light just so happens to be a part of.” Noticing my and my friends' looks of disgusted disapproval, he relented, “If Night Light wants to tell you about it afterward, she’s more than welcome to. But I can’t.” He paused for a breath. “Now with that being said; Night Light? Would you kindly follow me?”





“We’re in the shit,” Doc muttered gravely to me, as we both stood inside the room of the big Hangar, my friends waiting by their planes as they were guarded by private scientists (who somehow have weapons on them.) 

“This whole country is now in Deep. Fucking. Shit.” He finished.

“Why? What in Tartarus is going on?” My mind raced back at burning Las Pegasus, and the airship. “And do you have any fucking idea what the fuck that thing over Las Pegasus was?!”

“What happened? Doc, what’s going on?” The Griffon asked, more alert and concerned than before. 

“That thing over Las Pegasus was a secret weapon,” Doc mumbled, staring at the floor.

“Wh- but… wha-... But what the fuck was it?!” I exclaimed

“An airship. One of massive proportions and lethality.”

“An Airship?! Oh, that’s just fucking great!” The griffon yelled in frustrated sarcasm. “First they firebomb Las Pegasus, and now they have an airship to boot? Doc, you know that we can't win air superiority like that, not with that fucking thing in the air!”

“I know!” Doc bellowed. He gives a hoarse sigh as he sweeps a hoof over his mane. “Yes, I am all too aware. Thank you, Boltwing, for reminding me of the current shitty situation that we find ourselves in when I’m already fucking aware!”

Boltwing. So that’s her name.

Said Boltwing was silent after Doc’s remark, staring away with a disgruntled scoff.

“Night Light, we’ve intercepted multiple different enemy frequencies because of your efforts today. But that’s not gonna do much if an indestructible airship is flying around. Especially with a shield barrier.” Doc tapped a hoof on his chin, staring away from me.

“Changelings aren’t so good at magic as some specially trained unicorns are, but they are exceptionally skilled at magical engineering. I doubt that a crew of changelings could do such a task of maintaining an Airship, but magical engineering can. This has to be the work of that.” He paused for a breath. “But only ponies could hope to accomplish something even remotely possible to that. And yet, the Changelings did so almost effortlessly. So either..."

He begins to pace back and forth. "Either they are several years ahead of the curve, and several more ahead of our estimates - which doesn't seem possible - or..." He paused. "Or they had help from those who do know how to accomplish such feats."

“You think there might be traitors? Helping the Changelings?” Boltwing suggested.

“Maybe, but nothing solid… yet. I intend to find out.”

“Traitors? Why and how could anypony do such a thing? Especially with Changelings?!” I berated. It didn’t make any sense! 

What sort of benefit could they possibly gain from this? Was it money? Did they do it out of spite? 

“Oh it’s quite easy really,” Boltwing spoke wryly. “You just go away from the action, and keep living like nothing happened. Just like how you did. I wonder what’ll Spitfire think?”

A dagger skewered my heart. I wanted to reply but found I had no words to say. Doc interrupted my thoughts.

“Bolt, that’s enough! We’re all on edge as it is, we don’t need your fucking attitude now!”

"No reason?!" she screeched, indignant. "Well, it’s not my fault that I’m upset that you asked Night Light to abandon Goldbeak over Las Pegasus! I have every right to be upset." Boltwing said the word with a malicious tone of voice. “It’s not my fault that he’s possibly dead because a few ponies can’t seem to get their shit together!” Bolt pointed a claw at me. “And most importantly, it’s certainly not my fault that you can't find a way to save him! So whose fault is it then, HUH?!” She was yelling now, her voice shaking. She looked like she was holding back tears.

I didn’t know who this “Goldbeak” was that she kept referring to. But given how passionate she sounded about him, she cared for them greatly.

"ENOUGH!" Doc bellowed, forgoing his patient tone with a voice of pained authority.

“I don’t like this any more than you do! But would you rather have, Boltwing!?  That most of them died, or that all of them died? Pick your poison, because those Changelings already made their choice. They were planning on slaughtering everyone! At least this way, the damage is mitigated.”

A deafening silence filled the room after Doc’s uncharacteristic outburst. Only the sound of electronics from the dozens of small machines - including the supercomputer outside of the door - could be heard. Boltwing turned to look at me, her face morphed into something of pain and anger, before dashing out of the door. She didn’t fly. Just ran.

Doc gave out a weary sigh, before sitting down on his haunches. He levitated his glasses off his face, using a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the smudge off. “I'm sorry you had to see that,” he spoke, much more reserved in tone, “Boltwing she... she has been trying to keep me sane for so long that I...”

He stopped himself.

"... You do not know Goldbeak, do you?" Doc suddenly asks.

I shake my head.

"He's Boltwing's Brother." he spoke with a simple certainty. "And his probably dead by now."

He then clutched his head with his hooves, as if he was in pain. “Fucking Migraines,” he whispered, though I assumed to himself rather than to me. "Give me a short minute, please. I need to clear my head."

I nodded at him and trotted over to one of the small machines that constantly made ‘beep’ and ‘whirr’ noises. Computers, I assumed. It was still a relatively new technology. I wasn’t familiar with it at all. I was smart but nowhere near as intelligent as Doc was to make heads or tails on how this thing worked.

I frowned at the sight of it. 

“You know,” I spoke first, “It’d be a lot easier for me to trust you if you weren’t so cryptic.”

“If you’re in my line of work, you’ll one day understand.”

"And is that supposed to make me trust you?" I retorted.

"No." he answers with confidence.

I sigh. I wanted to say more, do more than just wait. But I had no choice anyway. I was at his mercy.

I turned to look at the group of ponies who were conversing with one another while they were working on their supercomputer, some of them trading glances in my general direction out of curiosity. But they said nothing to us.

I heard shuffling sounds behind me, noticing Doc pulling out a long, paper-like rod filled with… some kind of herb in it. He then pulled out a small, metallic box from his right pocket, and opened the top, revealing a little sparkwheel and… some kind of flint striker. 

Using his magic, he pushed down on the sparkwheel, and the button below it at the same time. There was a ‘flick’, and a small flame was soon emitting from it. 

Doc placed the paper rod in his mouth, hovering the small flame to the end of it, before taking several small puffs of smoke from it. He stowed the lighter, then closed his eyes and waited… before simultaneously exhaling and sighing in relief. A cloud of smoke floated out of his lips, like how a dragon would snore.

Doc, with the rod in his mouth still, opened his eyes and spoke to me, “Night Light… let me ask you a question. Let’s just say, hypothetically speaking, that you are the commander of an army. An army that is trapped across a frozen river with little room for escape. You’re surrounded everywhere except behind you. And with each passing day, the enemy grows stronger, while yours grows weaker. You’re better supplied, but they are better disciplined. You have no hope of advancing without taking massive casualties, due to the freezing winter.  And if you do try to escape, the enemy will swarm and encircle you to kill every last one of your soldiers.” He paused for a breath, staring intensely in my eyes. “Seriously consider this situation. Would you fight, flee, or stay where you are?”

I didn’t answer. I contemplated his words carefully. Knowing Doc’s straightforwardness, I assumed that was a situation he, if not somepony else, is dealing with. My mind couldn’t make up an answer. Doc must’ve caught on my hesitation, because he spoke before I could answer.

“Exactly.” He muttered, before taking another puff from his… what is that thing called? “I am not saying I am a commander of an army, but I am saying that the situation is grim enough that every minute decision that backfires could potentially kill thousands. And even if we succeed, ponies will die either way.”

My heart sank a little. I had no real connection with any of those ponies (except, terrifyingly enough, maybe Sunshine Tempest) but the idea of so many ponies dying no matter what happens is dishearteningly tragic. 

“Night Light, let me make something absolutely clear for you. Bad things…” he paused, as if he was trying to select his words carefully. He spoke slowly, deliberately, “Bad things will happen no matter what anypony does. No matter what happens next, ponies are going to die.”

I felt something pulling on my heart at those words. “I want to make sure you understand, Night Light. In case if you are having any doubts: it’s not your fault for what happened over Las Pegasus… no matter what Boltwing might’ve said.”

“I know,” I muttered weakly. I wasn’t sure what to think anymore. My mind was still numb from the hazy shell shock state that I had experienced earlier. I couldn’t think straight.

“And I know that you feel guilty for abandoning your comrades, like how I have instructed your team to do so. Please understand, that if there was a better alternative, I would’ve never considered this option. The point is, what’s done is done.” He paused, contemplating for a moment before sucking in a big puff from his rod again. Another cloud of smoke billowed outward.

“And I also know that what I am gonna say next is not something that you don't wanna hear, but... about the Eavesdropper; Your friends—nopony, really—can know about the Eavesdropper. And nopony can know about your desertion either.”

I stared at Doc with a confused frown. “Okay, so barring from the fact that you want me to lie about my treason: you want me to keep more secrets from my friends as well? Especially after what you’ve told us to do?”

“Please, let me explain.” he slowly answered, speaking in a careful tone. 

I didn't want to let him explain, truth be told. All of this sounded like madness to my shell-shocked brain. But curiosity won out the tug-of-war in my brain just in time to allow Doc to continue. 

“The fate of this war, of our country and our way of life, is at risk. And right now, we are not winning. I want to change that. I want to help win this war, and end this insanity as quickly as fucking possible.” he spoke those last words through a grimace. “I understand your mistrust and frustration, but we cannot let your friends interfere with this. I mean, fuck, Night Light; I wasn’t even supposed to give you the Eavesdropper in the first place! So really, we shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“Then why did you?”

That was the million bit question, wasn't it? If he wasn't supposed to give it to me, and I wasn't supposed to be here, why did he?

I thought back to what would happen if I didn't fly back to Las Pegasus after Mead Lake: would I even make it back to the Blueblood? Or would I be transferred to somewhere else? Would I even have met Doc? Would I have even fought over Las Pegasus? And if I did... would I have survived?

All these questions, but no answers.

Doc gives me a revering look of admiration, coupled with a faint smile. “Well, let's see: A stranded pilot beats all odds stacked against her after being shot down behind enemy lines. She flew over a battlefield and at least a hundred kilometers to the nearest metropolitan city, convinced a pair of guards to let her through after they’ve assumed you were a changeling spy,”

“Wait, how did you know about-”

Doc kept talking over me, not missing a beat. “Not to mention the fact that you—along with your squadron—shot down about 15 Strigon aircraft before you made your way to me. And finally, because: after all of that… you survived." his smile widens just a tad. "That kind of resourcefulness isn’t common, you know? You defied death after winning against the house against a rigged pot with a terrible hand to play. You were the best pony I’ve got.”

Doc took another puff, the rod becoming more and more degraded with each hit he took. “All of this we are doing now? It isn’t legal. That’s why this has to be swept under the rug. And that’s why I want you to keep this quiet. And I know what I ask of you is no small task. You may be my best hope at exploiting a weakness in the enemy.

“You may be our best hope as to figuring out what the fuck this ‘Aigaion’ is, and how to stop it. You may be our best hope of dealing a blow to the enemy that is painful enough to make them wince.

“You may be our best hope at taking the fight to the enemy, Night Light.”

I sat hard on my haunches, my head spinning at the sudden wealth of information. The overwhelming responsibility that had been just thrown at me was suffocating. I felt myself attempting to hyperventilate.

Doc walked up to me, his rod still in his snout. He gave me a brown paper bag to breathe into, of which I gladly took. A few moments of calming my heart and slowing my breathing had passed, Doc standing away from me with that same patience I've come to characterize him with. I stared at the ground for a moment, feeling a little better. Not good, but better.

Finally, I looked up at him, and asked with a tone of doubt, 

“Why?" I asked with desperation, "Why am I doing all of this? I was just a simple mare with a boring life before all this! I’m not special!” 

I openly showed the side of my flank to him, my cutie mark visible.  “I am not blessed with some magical talent of saving the world, am I?! My mark is just a moon and a star! I don't even know what that even means! They are nothing but just spots that fill a black void in the sky! They do nothing! Nothing!!” 

I was on the verge of tears as I screamed those words. they stung in the corner of my eyes. “I… I miss Sunshine, I miss my home, I miss my boring life, I miss not having to kill anything! I just…” I looked up to Doc, noticing his pained expression as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I just want to go home!”

I sounded like a filly crying for their mommy. How pathetic, I must look, from his perspective

Doc took a step back. He looked away for a moment, trying to morph his expression into something that didn't akin to shock. He gave a series of rapid blinks. Finally, he looked at me in the eye, his expression stoic, yet calm. 

“I’m sorry,” he spoke lowly. “I’m sorry that this is happening to you. I’m sorry this is happening at all.” He stared down at the floor. “My job, as Princess Luna had personally ordered me to do so, is -  as she said it - to Win the War.” he spoke those words as he looked at me in the eyes once again, more determined than calm now. 

“And that is what I intend to do.”

I look up at him waiting for him to deliver some kind of speech how I am a chosen one or... something. I don't even know anymore. I feel like I am lost in the Everfree with no map. One wrong step and I am dead.

Instead, Doc sat down on his haunches in front of me and offered one of his stuffed paper rods to me from his pack.

Through the tears, I sniff deeply to regain my composure and voice my confusion.

"I... I don't know what that is."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Really? Its—... Actually," he stows it away with a slight frown. "Probably for the best you don't start. You'll never quit otherwise."

He never answered what they were called.

"Look, I am... bad at this type of thing, Night Light." he awkwardly clears his throat. "I just want to say this: Whatever happens in the future, no matter if the world has turned its back on you, or if they are out to get you: I am not going to leave you behind. I will do what I can to make sure you get through this in one piece. And giving you the Eavesdropper is my way of doing that. It is the least I can do."

It felt weird hearing this from him. But strangely, I felt a warm glow at those words. It was comforting, knowing somepony still understood the truth.

"What now?" I asked.

"Drying off your tears would be a good start," He replied wryly, "then we discuss how you get back home..."





After that debate, and a lengthy radio conversation between Doc and somepony on the other line, I remember trotting out of the hangar with Doc alongside. I attempted to hide the crying episode I had, but my puffy eyes made it obvious to my friends… I doubt they didn’t notice. Each of them carried an awkward look about them, refusing to see me in the eye and instead looking past me if not looking at Doc. I suddenly realized they must've also heard me break down in the hangar from afar. 

I wondered how much they heard. I wondered if they would turn their backs on me after this.

“Ponies, we have good news,” Doc spoke to my friends. “Your planes are refueled, and you are free to go back to the Blueblood now. We made contact with the carrier, and have informed them that you were lost in the chaos. They will not assume you deserted if you hurry back now.”

My friends looked at each other, baffled and annoyed. “Wait a goddamn minute!” Bigs spoke first. “You mean to tell me that, even after we fucking abandoned everypony over at that gulf,” Bigs gave me a cold stare as he spoke those words, making me feel like a vice was tugged around my heart, “that we can just mosey on back to the carrier,” he made a walking motion with his two front hooves as he sat on his haunches “without them even saying a word about it?” 

Doc maintained his expression and replied, “Correct. How open-minded of you to assume that.” he stated sarcastically.

“I refuse to believe it’s that easy,” Lucky said, a bit suspiciously. “What makes you think we could trust you when you didn’t even explain what the hell is going on?” Lucky exclaimed.

Doc smiled. It was somewhat mocking. “Ah, I was hoping you would say that!” He then turned toward me, making my heart skip a small beat. In fear. “Night Light here can tell you all about me. You do remember that promise she gave you, right?” Doc asked, to which Lucky looked slightly appalled, yet also apprehensive.

“Uh…” I stuttered.

“Well, at some point she will.” Doc corrected.

“L-look, he is a friend of ours. He may not seem like it, but he has helped us so far, and the least we can do is be thankful. I mean, the only reason we’re going back at all is because of this guy.” I finished.

Each of them cringed at those words. Me included.

I wished I could take it back immediately.

Naya looked at Doc with creeping suspicion but relented when she saw the pleading look in my eye. She sighed, then spoke, “I trust Night Light. If she says he’s good, phe’s good.”

Lucky stared at Naya in disbelief. “You’re gonna trust him that easily?”

Bigs spoke afterward, “I still think that seems too good to be true.”

“I assure you, this is serious business. And if you don’t get to the coordinates at the designated time selected on these maps,” Doc levitated a document folder with several… well, maps, sticking out. “You may not be qualified as ‘missing’, and more as ‘AWOL’. Then you really will be tried for treason. And that is not a threat, that is a promise.”

Lucky and Bigs looked in different directions, thinking alone to their thoughts with disgruntled looks. Finally after about a minute, Lucky spoke. “Fine.”

Bigs then deflated with a sigh, knowing that the decision was final. “Alright, fuck it.”

“Excellent!” Doc announced. "I would suggest you two would get going. Make it back before sundown and things will be fine."

A mute nod was given from each of us as we turned our backs on Doc and towards our aircraft.

I turn back one last time to see Doc trotting away wordlessly, with Boltwing nowhere to be found.

But somehow, I knew. She was watching me leave from somewhere, with disdain.

I turned back to the aircraft, trotting faster...





“... We found it. After about an hour and 10 minutes of searching, we found the Blueblood and landed safely on it.”

The scribe pony was, by this point, filling in the small shades of his design. Finally, after about 30 seconds later, he announced, “Done!”.

Grim grabbed hold of the documents and inspected the drawing. His face then… changed. It morphed into something of fear and Intrigue. It disturbed me. Then he turned to look at me, then did a double take on the picture.

“... Huh. This is…” Grim didn’t finish. He kept staring at the drawing, admiring its details and the way it was drawn. Then, he looked above the paper into my eyes.

“This is what the airship looked like?” Grims asked as he showed me the paper. The sketch that the scribe pony drew was scarily accurate to what I described it as. Almost everything was on point. Some of the propellers were in the wrong spots, but I didn’t care about the drawing. Grim did.

“More or less, yeah.” I answered. “Now can we go home?”

Grim opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door opening again. One of those “Agents” that picked up me and Sunshine this morning trotted through the door. “Apologies for the interruption,” he spoke in that ever so familiar and lifeless drawl. “But Number 2 is unwilling to cooperate. She explicitly says that she wants to see her beloved, and will refuse to talk unless that happens.”

Grim looked at me with an annoyed frown. He then looked at the scribe pony who was patiently sitting in his chair, waiting for instructions. Then, Grim sighed, long and heavy.

“Figures she would. Escort them back to their homes.”

I did a double-take between the agent and Grim. The agent in question also seemed to have been a bit surprised at this response, though he tried to hide it. If I could’ve seen his eyes underneath those black glasses, I might’ve seen them widen.

“Arrive at their home again tomorrow, and pick them up in the late morning. We’re not done entirely, but they’ve been here long enough anyway.”

The agent looked at me with a blank expression, before nodding to Grim, “Understood.”

“Wait, you’re… you’re serious?” I asked with reluctance. “We get to go home?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, this isn’t over. Yes, you and your companion can leave, but you are required to return here until they’re finished with her, and you.”

I gazed out of the window. The sky had been tinted to an amber color, the sun just now out of sight behind the building to the west. It was around 4 or 5, based on my judgement of time.

I didn’t like this. Even after spending hours here, I still had to come back… just what is it about Sunshine that was so important to them anyway?

… But I asked to go home, and they were giving that to me… even if just for one night, it’s still one night with Sunshine by me.

“... Fair enough.”





We were riding the chariot from Canterlot back to Cloudsdale, Sunshine sitting next to me. My wing was embraced around her, as we silently watched the clouds float by around us. I found Sunshine was already waiting for me by the time I got back to the landing pad for our chariots. After exchanging a quick embracing hug, we both boarded the chariot and were on our way home.

Sunshine kept staring away from me, a pained expression on her face. My mind reeled at the events that had occurred today. From us being escorted out of our home, having Sunshine being restrained to a chair, to being escorted back. Sunshine hadn’t spoken much since we were reunited.

“Are you okay?” I asked with worry, afraid I might set off her… what did that pony say it was again? PTSD? I had no idea what that was, and could only assume that it was bad.

“I’m fine.” she deadpanned. I didn’t buy it. I slowly used my other wing to embrace her again, to which she stiffened slightly. But eventually, she relented and returned the hug. She buried her face in my mane and stayed there for a moment. Both of us were silent.

“We’re five minutes out!” one of the ponies dragging the chariot yelled. I nodded. I then turned my attention back to Sunshine, after softly kissing her forehead. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” I gently reminded her. She looked away. “I promise I won’t judge or get mad, or anything.”

She didn’t reply. She continued to stare away. After a half minute of silence, she spoke, “I don’t like them.” her voice was filled with angst. “Something about those ponies when they were interrogating me made me feel… uneasy. Like I was being played like a puppet for them, or something like that.”

“I don’t like it either,” I admitted, not sure what else to say. They weren’t hostile to us, but they also made no effort to convince us they were the ‘good guys’ either, which made me question the morality of their ‘investigation’.

“Did they hurt you?” Sunshine asked, catching me off guard of such a question.

“No, not physically.” I then thought back to Sunshine being tied to a chair. “Did they really restrain you during your session?”

Sunshine looked painful… and sad. “Yeah, a little bit. I had another panic attack. Except for this time, I was more… violent.” She stopped abruptly, her voice slightly cracking, not wanting to talk anymore. I stayed silent for the rest of the flight.

But I was curious what she meant when she said she was ‘a little’ restrained.

We arrived at our hometown and our home street when the chariot touched down on the clouds. The pegasi agents that had been following our chariots this morning and this evening landed beside us. “This chariot will return here again tomorrow at approximately eleven in the morning. Once again, you will be required to join us and-”

“Yes yes, we get it. We’ll be waiting.” Sunshine interrupted. “We’ll be on our way then.” she nudged my flank as she trotted by, urging me to follow her.

The agent ponies remained stoic but nodded. They then took off on their own accord, the chariot ponies following behind with their vehicle. Soon, they flew out of sight. I turned to look at our home, only to find Sunshine nowhere in sight with the front door wide open.

I trotted in and made my way to the couch. As I collapsed on it, I heard the water running from the kitchen sink. Sunshine was probably making dinner, I assumed. I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Being locked in a room for hours doesn’t do wonders for my stomach.

There was still daylight pouring through the windows, but judging by the golden tint of light it resonated, I doubt that would last long. It was well past Evening. The marketplace should still be open should the need arise.

The faucet in the kitchen stopped. I then heard hoofsteps move away from it and head upstairs towards my room. Our room. Sunshine trudged along slowly, not saying a word.

“Sunshine?” I asked feebly, as she continued to trot towards the door. Soon after, she closed it behind her.

I groaned, as I sat up on the couch and stretched my wings. Deciding dinner could wait, I trotted up towards our room. I turned the doorknob, opening the door to find sunshine laying on our bed face first, motionless.

No… no, not motionless. Her shoulders were heaving, and I heard a choking sound.

My heart ached at the sight of her. I slowly trotted my way to her, and gently sat on the ground beside the bed. She didn’t notice me, I think. I contemplated what to do, or what to say, drawing a blank in my mind. I didn’t know what to do. So, I did the only thing I could do that made sense.

I hugged her.

I laid next to her on my side, and spread my wings around her, pulling her close to my chest as she continued to sob. She didn’t resist. She wrapped her hooves around my torso as I pulled her close. Warm tears were dripping my coat, but I didn’t care. My attention was focused on Sunshine. I gently stroke her mane with my hooves. Her withers continued to heave, as I kept trying to soothe and comfort her.

After about 5 minutes of caressing her, she eventually calmed down to the point where her tears were less intense, instead of her full-on sobbing. She eventually looked up to me, guilt and sadness covering her expression. She then looked away after seeing the caring look in my eyes. 

“Are you okay?” I asked as gently as I could, not trying to sound upset or anything of the sort. Sunshine didn’t answer. She still looked away. I placed a hoof under her chin and pointed her face at me.

I looked into her eyes again, which were gleaming from the tears she had shed. 

“Feel better?” I asked gently, as I smiled faintly.

“Yeah… a little,” she replied quietly. “Sorry. I haven’t had a breakdown like that in a while,” she muttered as she wiped her eyes with her wings.

“It’s okay. I understand.” I reassured her as I held her close to me. Her face was half buried in my mane. She stopped crying, for now at least. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sunshine looked away for a moment, then looked me straight in the eyes. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes again before she tightly embraced me again.

“Just…” She whispered, barely able to keep her voice from cracking again. “Just don’t leave me again. Please. Just don’t.” She pleaded. I knew that wasn’t possible for tomorrow. We would have to be separated again. But I knew she was talking about the war. It didn’t matter now, though. All that mattered was here and now. I kissed her forehead again.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.” I whispered in her ear, as we both silently held each other for just a little longer, thankful for the fact that the ordeal that split us apart was over.

Although… I was curious. I wondered what happened with Sunshine while we were separated. I knew I wasn’t going to get an answer easily… and at that moment, I didn’t really care. It was more of a suspicious curiosity that I didn’t want to act upon. Still… the thought lingered in the back of my mind.

I suppose maybe one day, I’ll find out soon enough. But for now, I held my lover in my hooves, as we both basked in the presence of each other for a little longer.






Sunshine Tempest



Hours earlier, that same day


I slowly entered the room, and the door shut behind me almost instantly. I looked around the room, finding nothing else worth noting. So I sat down, and I began waiting for whoever wished to speak to me.

A minute passed by. 2 minutes. 3. I shuffled my hooves together, and stretched my wings, looking for some way to pass the time. 5 minutes. Still nothing. I yawned from the silence and boredom.

The doors suddenly opened, revealing an entirely different pony. This one was a Mare Earth Pony, with a pale coat and Blue mane. The Mane had a pink strip near her right eye. there was wrapped candy on her flank as her Cutie Mark.

“Hello, Sunshine Tempest.” She spoke, more cheerful and energized than the boring, monotone agents from earlier. “My name is Agent Bon Bon.”

I stared at the pale mare with confusion. “What is going on here?” I asked.

She smiled. A warm smile, which made me even more dubious of her. “You’re here because there are certain ponies who wish to know you a little more.” she answered, as she sat on one of the chairs with her haunches. She had no clothing and had no papers, pens, or any item with her. She only brought herself. “In other words - as much as I hate this word - you’re being interrogated.”

I felt a shot of panic swell up in me. Not a big shot, but enough to shake my breathing just a little. She continued, “I understand that you are a veteran soldier of The Great War. And that you were drafted from it since the very beginning. Am I correct?”

“Yes.” I answered quickly.

“Splendid. Do you know what that means for you?”

I shook my head.

“Well, it means several things. For starters, you are a unique pony. You survived what is considered to be the most destructive and deadliest conflict in world history. Secondly - because you survived the deadliest war in history - you are susceptible to receive bonuses due to your contribution. That much I’m sure you’re already aware of, given the… expensive nature of your home.” She maintained her positive demeanor… which made me uneasy, considering this pony was working for the same group of ponies that separated me and Night Light. “And lastly, It means that you know first hoof - from beginning to end - what happened. And that much cannot be said for a lot of ponies. Actually, if you want me to be specific, it cannot be said for,” she looked up at the ceiling with her eyes, mouthing something to herself, before turning back to me, “About three million ponies cannot say that.” this time, she spoke in a grim but somewhat empathetic tone.

I felt my heart stop for a split second. Three million…? That was more than I had ever anticipated. Now I felt guilty for being able to sit here and think about that number, when there was a very real chance that I could’ve been a part of that number. Just another digit in a list.

“And because you survived 7 years of continuous warfare… you have-... had, a high military ranking. And you were there on very special missions because of that, were you?” Bon Bon gave me a very piercing look with her eyes. Even through her shades, I could see her eyes frown in a way that made me feel insecure.

“Am I wrong?” she asked again.

“No. You’re not.”

“I figured. I had a good look at some of the recorded backgrounds of each engagement you happen to be in.”

She stopped. Then turned her whole body towards me, and slowly trotted forward. Sh then stood on her hind legs, and slammed her forehooves on the table, making me recoil away suddenly.

“And… a little bird told me that you happen to witness something really… big in the final years of the war as well. Like… a big weapon? Or a big vehicle? Or a big army?” she kept asking. 

“See, that’s the thing. We don’t know for sure. And I have been ordered to find out. That said order was given to me by Princess Celestia herself, as she told me to find out what happened. And that is what I am going to do, Sunshine. I need you to help me.”

I gave her a look of frightened confusion. “Help with what?”

“Help me understand what happened. I want to know what was going on in your life on the frontlines, to get an understanding on what this ‘big thing’ that keeps popping up in your combat log is.”

I stared at her, long and hard. No facial movements were made by either at us, as we had an impromptu staring contest. Finally, I spoke, slowly, “Where should I start?”

“Start from the time where you first caught on to it, and keep going from there. And no lollygagging either. The only thing I want to know is what happened with your involvement on this big thing.”

I gazed down, thinking hard, and wondering if I should comply… I mean, she hadn’t exactly asked nicely. And she seemed awfully pressed to pry that information out of me. 

“I can try, but you’re gonna have to tone it down a notch if you want me to cooperate.” I spoke passive-aggressively. She gave me another hard frown, before sighing. 

“Whatever suits you. Just tell me what I wanna know.”

“Okay. You know I was deployed first at the Ruby Mountains, right?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t start there. I have to go further along when this thing was first mentioned. But my friends and I have been doing this goose chase since the very beginning, getting strange orders left and right with Ponies, Griffons, Deer, and Changelings all over the Equestrian Continent.

“If you really want to understand what happened, I need to start from a little earlier back.”

“How far back?” Bon Bon asked.

“Since 1014. Three years after it began.”

She looked away for a moment, contemplating. Then she replied, still looking away, “Fine. Go on.”

“Okay.” I stared at my hooves. It dawned on me at that moment, that I was gonna to relive the past all over again; something I would much rather move past, then move back to. And I was doing so because Celestia herself wanted Bon Bon to do this! Maybe not like this specifically, but she probably didn’t even think too much about how it was going to be done anyway!

But, Night Light and I were back together now. It’s all over. It’s not real anymore. I just have to remember it. Not relive every detail. I could do this. Maybe.

“I was… I was near the West Coast of the continent. It’s about… Mid-April, I think. A Cold Night. We were 156 miles south of Tall Tales, a City had citizens who faced occupation for 3 years now. We were on the way to liberate it.

“But my Division… we were special. I didn’t tell Night Light that. I lied to her. I did start on the Ruby Mountains, but I was no regular foot grunt. I was a Pegasus. We had a serious tactical advantage of the enemy. We could fly. We didn’t have to worry about hiking across mountains, or clearing through a forest, or any terrain really.

“That being said, I knew there was something unique about us since the very beginning. In April, when we were that close to Tall Tales, my division - along with a handful of others, conducted airborne operations. We went all over the different parts of the world that we were in. I was a part of the ‘Cloudsdale.' That correct?”

“Yes.” 

“Is your significant other aware of your deeds?"

"... No."

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want her to experience the pain I had endured for the last 7 years. I lost so much while I was out there. But I survived. I suppose that was courageous of me, or something, but it doesn’t feel like it. I feel guilty.”

“... Survivors Guilt. It’s a common problem with veterans today.”

“Right..." I pondered for a moment. "The first operation that involved it was in Vanhoover. We wanted to do a sneak attack from behind. We didn’t know, however, that what we found there was actually there at all. We had no idea what we were about to witness.”

“What did you witness?”






Skies over Vanhoover. April 17th, 1014. 21:43 CST


Vanhoover.

I saw it as a city of lights. Out of every building, the night sky was illuminated by a shred of light emitting out of each window.

But there was also another kind of light. Yes, it was indeed a city of lights.

It was also a city of searchlights and air raid sirens.

And it would soon become a city of corpses.
> (A3) - Prologue: Emancipation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Prologue: Emancipation



“I was born to die, living is just a luxury.”







Sunshine Tempest


Before I begin to recollect what happened in Vanhoover that nearly cost my life, I want you to get an idea of what we were dealing with, I have to explain the gravity of the situation. And how this critical situation would entail what we discovered soon after the invasion started.

The frontlines were static. Operation Ursa was a total bust, and it cost us immensely. The Changelings were well dug in, and we made no real progress. And for each passing year, we are prolonging the suffering of the ponies in the occupied cities. For each passing year, the Changelings grew in numbers and in strength. We had to relieve the pressure somehow. We had to find some way to achieve a breakthrough of any kind.

My Division, along with several others - whose names I do not know - were tasked to land in the 80-kilometer area in and around the city of Vanhoover. Our objective was simple: we were to open another front in the North for the Changelings to worry about and force them to divert their forces to the newly found Salient and exploit the weakness on one section of the frontline to break through. We also knew that we would stay put and not advance any further for weeks until the main army caught up with us. I was used to staying dormant though. I did so for another three months in the mountains before Operation: Ursa began.

We littered the city with pamphlets from bombers, not risking civilian casualties with the actual bombing. They were offers of unconditional surrender or face total annihilation to the Changeling garrisons. The number of which shouldn’t be too much to worry about. Now, that ‘total annihilation’ part wasn’t exactly true. We were only intent on frightening the enemy to surrendering. But what some of the generals, whom of which designed and calculated this plan, had not realized was: The Changelings were not intent on surrendering.

Some of us, however, knew exactly what they were going to do and how to respond. And, of course, we received word that the Changeling generals said ‘no’.

We scouted the city with recon planes days after, checking to see if they were evacuating civilians, or doing something else. Before the pamphlet runs, there were definitely signs civilian life in there, doing only goddesses know what. But after the pamphlet runs, they seemed to have vanished into thin air. The commanders were skeptical. There was the possibility that they hid them in buildings, calling our bluff for the ‘bombing runs’ we were doing.

High Command wasn’t taking any chances. They wanted to preserve civilian life. They ordered a complete surprise offensive. Wasn’t too much of a surprise, considering that they knew we were going to try something.

But here’s the catch.

We couldn’t do any kind airborne paradrop from transport planes like how we normally do. The enemy had too much air superiority to conduct that kind of operation. Plus, they would most certainly have some kind of Radar, or AA defense set up around the area. It would’ve made the trip perilous, if not suicidal.

Because of this, the only other alternative for an invasion would be from sea, which would also be very difficult. They had coastal fortifications all over the harbor, and the beaches off to the sides as well were mined and guarded, stretching on for a staggering 100 kilometers beyond Vanhoover. The same was applied to every single naval base and city along the coastline. It would’ve been a slaughter, which defeats the whole purpose of this operation.

So you might be wondering by now, ‘How do you invade Vanhoover then, if they know you’re coming - with every single option being suicidally impossible?’ Well, the answer was actually very simple... Simply insane, more like it, but simple in the Grand Scheme of things. Remember when I said that I was a Pegasus, and that terrain was no problem for me and others like me to trek across? Well, Field Marshal Luna also remembered that she had pegasi at her disposal as well. A lot of them.

Three divisions worth of them - which is about 15,000 - 30,000 Pegasi.

She then came up with (in my honest opinion) a completely insane plan - one that almost cost me my life on more than one occasion. The kind of plan you read in a novel during its climax and the protagonist says ‘that’s so crazy, it just might work!’, except for this time I had no idea if it actually would work.

Luna strategized for all of us to fly in on our own, silently and swiftly, and take the city by complete surprise use our extensive training and the element of surprise to eradicate the enemy. And when she said ‘fly on our own’ she literally meant on our own, with just infantry. No armor support, due to tanks… you know, not being able to fly and all. We did have Amphibious Tanks - Amtracks we call them - at our disposal, but she still refused. Too much risk of collateral damage.

No aircraft to help us as well, due to the enemy having air superiority. And there was no way that Luna was willing to bombard or shell the city with civilians inside in order to clear us access. So we had to do this entirely by ourselves. Which means: this was an all-in gamble.

Thankfully for us, where Equestria lacked in the air now, she made up for it in the sea. We had - more or less - naval supremacy in the Lunar Ocean, to the West off of the coast from the mainland. I say ‘more or less’ because the enemy still manages to harass us with submarines, with their main flotilla of ships hiding away in the northern coastline of the Continent - far out of our bases’ reach. Though they made no effort to show up today of all days. And that was good because the only way for the Pegasi to attack the city without being detected or shot was from the sea. We would have to use hundreds upon hundreds of transport ships to conduct this operation.

Princess Luna planned to execute the attack before nightfall when visibility is high enough for travel, yet low enough for insertion into the city. Capture as much element of surprise, as I overheard her say once. She also had a reserve army in the rear ready to infiltrate through the harbor to reinforce the city if the airborne operation happens to be successful - which was a big ‘if’.

And after months of planning, training, preparing, and praying somewhat, the transports were finally launched on April 13th, reached the designated location by the morning of the 17th. There, they waited. By Dusk, we attacked. It took us 3 hours of constant flying between about 15,000 - 30,000 troops in complete darkness before we reached our destination. More than a dozen of us didn’t even hit their target area to land.

And you might be wondering: ‘That is the craziest plan I have ever heard!’

Yeah it was.

And... Somehow, it fucking worked.






Lunar Ocean, April 17th, 1014. 18:46 CST.


The semi-warm evening sun was just starting to dip under the horizon as I was standing atop the deck of the transport ship. Standing amongst a crowd of ponies, we were all huddled together so tightly that there was no room for any of us to open our wings. We were all facing one direction, towards the bow of the ship. A large wooden pedestal stood in front of us.

Pegasi. There were no Unicorns or Earth Ponies here with us. Only Pegasi. Even Thestral Ponies were here. One of my friends, Raisins, would not be here to attend this operation as she was a unicorn. Maybe that was a good thing. Even if she could, it would no doubt be extremely dangerous - borderline suicidal. There were Pegasi flying all around us, shifting the clouds, and changing their shapes. They will create a cloudy overcast layer, cloudy enough for us to slip past anything we might encounter along the way. Thank Celestia for weather control, at least.

And after what happened near the Smoky Mountains, I was glad Raisins was back on the frontlines as a rear echelon guard. Goddesses know she needed some kind of respite from combat. It was far bloodier than ever imaginable. I shivered just thinking about it.

There were at least a hundred of us, possibly more, waiting at the deck of the ship to see what happens next. We all knew what was going to happen next. Well, we all already knew what was going to happen: we were going to probably die.

I know it sounds like I wasn’t all too afraid to die, especially since I considered myself to be a level headed pony. But the truth of the matter is: I was terrified to my core. And so was everypony else. The Commanding Officers who relayed this plan to us let it be known that a lot of us were not going to survive this day.

A lot.

I made no effort to hide my terror, though I did try to keep a stoic face in the midst of my shaking body. I wasn’t cold, but that didn’t matter. I was still shaking violently, as dozens upon dozens of tiny spasms wracked my being. They kept coming and did not stop. I tried a few times to take deep breaths, but they don’t seem to be helping any knowing there is the very real possibility that you might die.

Everypony else felt the same way. I could tell. And if I couldn’t tell, they made an effort to hide it. Some of the ponies around me had fearful expressions on their faces. Some even looked downright terrified.

It was getting loud. A hundred ponies cramped together atop a transport ship in the middle of the ocean tends to make a lot of noise. We were all anxious to see what happens next.

The wooden Pedestal in front of us all of the sudden had a flash of bluish-purple energy, silencing all of us. a whirling tornado of energetic miasma swirled over the bow of the ship in a majestic light.

Soon later, a Midnight Coated Alicorn with a Crescent Moon for a cutie mark stood before us, manifesting seemingly out of thin air. She stared down at every single pony in front of her, her movements small yet surgical. 

Standing before us was Princess Luna.

Questions flooded my head. What was she doing here? Out of all the transport ships, why would she choose this one?

I wouldn't get any answer, only silence as hundreds of ponies began shushing one another in the presence of a supposed deity. Soon, a soporose quiet fell onto the ship. The waves of the ocean banking against the hull of the ship as we banked back and forth, gently and almost imperceivable. She began to pace, inspecting each of us intensely as if she was searching for fear and uncertainty. Like the waves of the ocean, she found nothing but waves of life looking up to her for guidance and confidence.

She saw fear in us.

And she was disappointed.

She stood regal, but it lacked pride. Instead, an aura of modesty surrounded her. She suddenly ceased pacing, standing tall in the middle of the Rampart. Then her horn illuminated in a soft Azure glow. Then the glow expanded like a fireball, as it hummed with energy.

I instinctively looked to the West (or tried to, given on how many others were doing the same thing - blocking my view) and I saw what was happening. 

The sun quickly dipped under the horizon, changing the atmosphere to a mulberry hue. The sky was tinted in Twilight. The Full Moon then rose over the Eastern horizon soaring quickly past pony heads and distant stratocumulus clouds, bathing the ships and the ocean around them with a soft glow of paleish light.

I stared at the moon. I admired its strange and mysterious beauty. And for a little moment there, my fear and anxiety of what was to happen had vanished. 

I felt catharsis. At peace. I felt like nothing would weigh me down… 

At least for a moment.

The azure energy of her horn never ceased glowing, and the ball of energy emanating at the tip of it hummed louder still. Luna's eyes were shut as she concentrated on the spell. A few more seconds pass, and Luna is now surrounded by floating leaves and a whirlwind. Though her limbs and wings are unmoving, she floats upward into the night sky with ease.

When she finally opens her eyes, they glow a pure silver light. When she finally opens her mouth, her voice is amplified. Hundreds of ponies watch on in awe as they rapturously listen to what she has to say.

“Ponies of Equestria," she speaks. Thunderous was the volume, and yet paradoxically her tone was soft and endearing.

"Brothers, Sisters, Mothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters, Friends and Family. This week, we embarked on our ships in hopes of launching a campaign against thy enemies. They grow stronger on our home soil with each passing day, and some fear the end of Equestria will soon become a reality.”

She then started pacing faster along the rampart, her wings unfurled. “I wish to reassure you all on this night of beauty. That the fear of Equestria's light being snuffed out in the dark... is FALSE! For tonight, we are to silence those fears and stow away any guilt or doubt. For tonight, we are to restore what is rightfully ours.”

Princess Luna boomed her voice again, standing tall on her hind legs as she reared up. “Let this beautiful night be a blessing and an omen that we Princesses, and all of Equestria, are watching over you. That we are protecting you. And that we are relying on you. YOU ARE PEGASI!” she bellowed as she stood on her hind legs, the very air seeming to shake and vibrate by the power of her voice. And that made me both admirable and terrified of her. But more admirable than terrified. She slammed her hooves down on the floor as she continued, “YOU ARE EQUESTRIA’S FINEST! YOU ARE THE ELITE! IF ANYPONY CAN MAKE THIS HAPPEN, IT SHALL FALL UPON YOU.”

She stood on all fours again, as her voice died down… just a little. “And I also want to make something absolutely clear to all of you. I know many of you are angry, and hurt, and suffering in silence for what has happened to our home. I know many of you hate our enemy. That you would wish to make them suffer for the wrong and the atrocities they have committed. And that you wish to enact vengeance upon them. While it is not without cause, I beg of you - for those who feel lost and angry - do not pursue revenge. It will only make our enemy stronger.

	“The enemy seeks to fight us for our love. We shall not give it to them. If they wish to take it, they shall try to do just that: they shall have to take it from us, even from our dead bodies. But if your soul is filled with hate and vice, you will only weaken yourself. Only through the magic of friendship, through the combined power of Pegasi, and through sheer determination, can we win this day.”

Her horn illuminated once again, as an aura of blue energy enveloped all of us. Her horn glowed brighter and brighter, until a blinding flash covered my vision, making me raise a hoof over my eyes to block the blinding light. Just as that was happening, I felt a wave of energy rush through my body. And a wave a coolness coursed through my mind as well.

Suddenly, I felt… good. I felt alive, full of energy, and my body stopped shaking. My head also felt clearer, like I could think with clarity. I was having ideas! Not only that, but I felt confident in doing so. I felt like I could take on the world!

I looked around me, as other ponies had mixed expressions on their faces that told me they were feeling the same thing. Sweet Celestia, I actually felt aware of my surroundings! Princess Luna looked exhausted after that spell. Her horn still illuminated, but beads of sweat-drenched her face and coat.

“Pant, Let this, huff, blessing be upon you all tonight. For tonight, you are no longer ponies. You are no longer mere Pegasi. You are the Night’s Champions. You are soldiers, embarking on a crusade that will very much determine the fate of our way of life in Equestria. And quite possibly the whole world as well.”

I should’ve felt scared at those words. I didn’t. Instead, I felt like I prepared all my life for this. I didn’t, obviously, but that’s what it felt like.

“The enemy will not expect us. They will not win and survive this day. I know this because you will ensure that is possible. You will ensure the victory of Vanhoover, and the survival of our country. Of our species. Of our way of life. And of our home. Your loved ones. Your friends. Your family. Everypony you love and hold dear is counting on you to win this day!”

Despite her exhausted state, Princess Luna stood on her hind legs again - a little shakily this time, but she got it. She then boomed her voice once again. When I looked up at her again, I noticed a large formation of Pegasi from behind us fly over our ship, heading NorthEast. The invasion had already begun.

“NOW GO FORTH, MY LITTLE PONIES! FOR TONIGHT, WE SHALL WIN BACK OUR CITY! FOR TONIGHT, WE SHALL FIGHT FOR ALL THAT IS GOOD! FOR TONIGHT, WE SHALL TAKE BACK WHAT IS OURS!”

There was another sound that filled the air. It was the sound of overwhelming cheering.





“Everypony loaded up? I sure as fuck hope so, because you’re lifting off in two minutes!” The Unicorn Officer that replaced Princess Luna’s position barked at us. Luna teleported away after her grand speech, leaving me (and everypony else) inspired and confident. “Anypony who hesitates to take off will be arrested or executed if you resist! Pegasi Officers will fly in with you during this operation to ensure of that. Do I make myself clear!?”

Of course nopony said no. Nopony was afraid. Not even me! I felt like I could take on the world!

“Sir yes sir!” we all shouted in unison.

“You will fly North East for one hour, than bank East for another hour. Within at least two hours, you will arrive at Vanhoover. Your Company is assigned to the ‘Cloudsdale’ Division. Your task is to clear out the Western side of the city, and advance until you reached grid ref 875-237.”

Everypony eyed each other with confusion.

“Your officers will guide you, and order you to follow his instructions.” He spoke, hinting at everypony’s confusion. “Stick with your battle buddies, and follow instructions. And if you have a good aim, you might just make it out alive. Do you understand?!”

“Sir yes sir!”

“One Minute!” another pony called out.

All of the Pegasi shifted position, readying themselves for take off. I saw Sergeant Baker, my Pegasus Officer, stand near the front of the pedestal, talking with another high ranking pony. I had no idea what of though, as I was out of earshot. I inspected my equipment, making sure I had everything I needed.

My rifle; check. My first aid kit; check. My ammo, with magnetic stripper clips; check. Magnetic Horseshoes (how else do you think we could hold rifles, and reload with our hooves?); check. Grenades; check. Vest and Pack; check. Combat Knife; check. I had everything.

“Thirty Seconds!”

Everypony instinctively crouched low, assuming takeoff stance. They all had looks of determination and resolve smitten on their faces, ready for combat. Looking more like soldiers then ponies. Baker then trotted back to the line, and assumed takeoff position as well.

“Fifteen!”

I unfurled my wings, and crouched low, gritting my teeth more groups of Pegasi were still flying over us from Transport ships behind us.

“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.”

I shuffled my hooves and body a little more, to loose the shakies that I still had.

“Six. Five. Four.”

I took one last deep breath.

“Three. Two. One. Launch!”

At the word ‘Launch’, every single Pegasi that could was ascending upward, in an unorganized, but tight formation trying to reach the cloud layer. We were all flying fast and straight. Several officers had their whistles blown, with pistols out as they were flying with us. Battle cries and cheers, as well as yelling and flapping wings filled the soundscape around me.

I didn’t make any sound. I didn’t need to. Hundreds of Pegasi around me were doing that already. I wasn’t much of an ‘overzealous cheering’ type of pony anyway. Though I did commemorate their bravery for being able to stay this optimistic, even if for a short while.

We all flew in the same direction, North East, as we began to shift and merge into a different formation. It soon formed a thick chevron-shaped cluster with a spearhead facing forward. I was somewhere located in the back left.

I don’t really recall much from our flight. Say for a few small chats I had with some other ponies I recognize, knowing all too well that it could be our last. I tried not to get too close to ponies after the Ruby Mountains. I lost a lot of good friends there, and almost lost Raisins as well. She was the only few close friends that managed to survive the onslaught.

I do remember a few faces in that formation though. I was assigned to a squad of nine, and I remember a select few others; Three rifle-ponies (such as myself. I wasn’t anything too fancy despite being in an elite company. I did have more ammo than the average foot grunt though, so it was something.), a Medic (A white painted Pegasus I didn’t know.), an officer (that was Baker.), a Machine Gunner (who I remember going by ‘Spade’, for the Ace of Spades as his Cutie Mark.), an AT Specialist (going by Boomer.), an Engineer with Explosives, and a Radio Pony. (Normally that would be Raisins, but she wasn’t here. I do know that the replacement is a recruit named Buckeye.)

I also remember that we had to go over our plan of action while in flight. We did review what exactly we would be doing before the invasion began, but the leading officer of my Company had very specific orders for all of us. “Ponies, listen up!” I heard one of the unfamiliar lieutenants speak up in the front of the formation, almost barely audible among the chatter and noise. As soon as he yelled though, the passing conversations dulled down a little.

Soon, the flock of Pegasi morphed past the clouds as one.





“We are tasked to land Northeast of Vanhoover Harbor, near the Downtown District. The whole city will still have some civilians leftover hiding inside the buildings, so PID your targets. Our task is to move in, block by block; street by street; building by building until we reach the City Hall. There, we will hold our position and wait for reinforcements. Understand?!”

“Sir yes sir!” we all shouted back diligently, like good soldiers.

About an hour has passed. We still see ocean, and clouds, but no sight of land. Several officers began relaying the plan back.  I knew it wouldn’t be long now until we were at Vanhoover. It was dark by now, making it harder to see one another as we flew. A few of us managed to bump into one another, causing a minor accident. Nopony was hurt though, and they got back on course. But this kept happening for the entire trip.

I couldn’t see any landmass near us for miles. We were about an hour away still. I knew what to look for. A weird cross shaped looking bay that lead South, leading us towards the coastal city. If we were lucky, we should be able to fly through without being spotted until the last possible second.

We had just changed course towards Vanhoover not too long ago, now heading straight East. We were now heading straight toward the city. My mind lingered on its own, imagining what the city would look like under Changeling Occupation.

It just dawned upon me at that moment that I’ve never actually been to Vanhoover before in my life. I’ve heard tales about it though. About how it was one of the few first cities to industrialize, much like Fillydelphia and Manehatten.

Supposedly, back in the golden days when Equestria was experiencing its technological revolution, Vanhoover was the first city to industrialize. It soon had block upon block of different commercial and industrial building being constructed in the early years of the ‘revolution’. It was supposed to be bigger in size, but not as populated, weirdly enough.

It used to be way smaller than that though. Before the technological advancements, it was a tiny coastal town with a small pier dock as its harbor. It commenced commercial trade with the olenians as well, once we’ve established contact with one another. And for a long while, business was good.

The Olenians always were happy to do business ever since they’ve ended the raiding parties against us more than half a century ago. ‘The Hjortland Treaty’, I think it was called. But ever since King Aldar II died under mysterious circumstances, his illegitimate son, Johan, quickly seized the throne with the help of Nobles, Religious Zealots, and Businessdeer.

I never really took an interest in politics. It was just a bunch of talk that was too boring for me to tune in. I did read several history books in my school years before this war started though, years ago. I’ve always had a nick for history.

Supposedly, after Johan took control, trade had been much slower since. Not as profitable for both sides either. We still conducted business, though not as much and not as fruitful. Princess Velvet, supposedly being the rightful heir to the throne of Olenia, fled to Equestria soon after. I never really did find out what happened to her.

After trade became less profitable, Vanhoover decided to expand on its own. It already had industrialized centuries beforehand, but it still continued to grow. As if the city itself was a living being. The population rose, commercial business were erected soon after, seafaring businesses lost traction, and industry grew.

From then on, it became one of the many Industrial Hubs that grew across Equestria. It wasn’t the only one, but it was the biggest seafaring one by far out of all of them. Manehatten at the time couldn’t even match its seafare trading output.

After the invasion of Olenia, however, things changed. Soon, the trading harbor was converted into military dockyards and repair yards. It soon transformed from a seafaring trading town, to a sprawling metropolis.

Not that the dockyards helped us out any. Many of the dockyards were severely damaged during the first battle of Vanhoover, by the bombing raids that occurred beforehoof. The city was pummeled into submission from air and sea. When the actual attack came, resistance only lasted for a week before the garrison guards surrendered.

I wondered about the fate of the ponies who stayed behind in occupation. I had multiple imaginations of what could be possible. Slavery, Execution, Stuffing them inside those pods with green ooze in them. I shuddered. I felt a pang of sadness for the many who are experiencing that kind of hell. But the truth of the matter is; I didn’t know. If there are ponies who did know - other then the victims themselves - then they made no effort on disclosing that information to anypony else.

But this time, we could fix that. If this attack goes well, which--again--was a big “if”, and if everything goes according to plan, we could save those ponies from that fate. A part of my mind felt more hopeful now, and even more confident and brave thanks to Princess Luna’s spell. The other part of my mind, the more rational and logical part, also knew it wouldn’t come easily. And even through my optimism, I could still die. The thought of death still lingered in the back of my mind

I was flying on “autopilot” to myself while I lingered on those thoughts, when I accidentally grazed my wing on a stallions flank. I shifted position to my right, slightly blushing, while he looked at me with an expression of annoyance. Getting lost in my thoughts was sure to make me crash into others.

Flying in darkness and in clouds was easier said than done. I couldn’t focus on history now, there would be a time for that later. For now, I just kept flying.





“We’re five minutes out!” I heard Baker yell from the front. I was exhausted by this point. I wouldn’t be flying again for a long while, given how sore my wings were already. Flying for two hours straight took a toll on us all. My sides were also burning from the exertion. I could float and hover in the air afterward maybe, but not for long. For all of the endurance training I had… well, endured, it wasn’t enough to mask my weariness.

“Alright, everypony follow me! We’re diverting course now! Get your rifles ready, and prepare for contact!” an officer yelled at the front.

With those words, I saw the first few rows of Pegasi turn to the right, now facing towards a large blob of lights that I could barely see through the clouds. The rest of us soon followed, some off us a little off course due to being lost in the cloudy darkness. But through the hazy puffs of water vapor, we could see a city of lights. Soon, all of us started shrugging their weapons from their shoulders and held them in their hooves. I did the same.

It was already loaded, just not ready to fire yet. I proceeded to cock the bolt-action lever back and forth to load my next bullet - a feat that would’ve been impossible had it not been for the magnetic horseshoes.

Everypony was now flying with guns in their grasp. We all flew at a slower pace, to keep a stable flight pattern in case we had to shoot in mid-air. All of us looked tense, but not afraid. I certainly wasn’t afraid about it (thank you, Luna) but I still had the shakes.

“Alright, lets go over our POA once more, so you are all familiar with it.” I heard Baker announce in the front. “We’re landing near the shore of the Southern downtown district. Our objective is the city hall located to the far East of that said district. This will be a dense urban environment, so stay alert at all times. We’re to occupy the city hall, and relay to the other platoons of our progress. When all is said and done, the city should be ours by the morning.

“We’re expecting a lot of resistance, as well as civilians still inside the city limits. So make sure you PID your contacts. I want to avoid collateral damage as much as possible. Once we land, find the closest spot of cover you can find. The enemy will most certainly try to kill us while in the air.”

As if on cue, I saw several beams of light emit from the surface into the sky. It was coming from the city. Searchlights. It looks like the others before us had already arrived, and announced our presence.

“Well, they know we’re here now.” Spade muttered, as he pulled out his Bren MK. II Machine Gun.

“Get ready for gunfire. Once they start shooting at us, dive as fast and as erratically as you can.” Baker ordered.

I followed behind the other Pegasi through the clouds as we all readied our weapons. We flew through a break in the clouds.

And then I saw it.

The city of Vanhoover was a city of lights. Not just lights from buildings, but also search lights as well. Gunfire can now be heard, as well as sirens. Tracers could be seen flying towards the sky, no doubt directed at the Pegasi. Everyone inside the city is wide awake now, and is now on full alert.

But I saw something else as well. Rising way up high into the sky was a black, sickly looking spire. It was planted in the middle of the city, rising up high for kilometers. It didn’t penetrate the cloud layer, but it grazed the bottom of it. The base of the tower was thick and strong, but kept getting thinner and thinner as it rose higher.

That definitely was not there before.

“What in Celestia’s Mane is that thing?” a mare asked somewhere near me to my right. Before anypony could answer, a blinding beam of light was shot in our area. Realization slowly turned into horror as I found out that one of the spotlights have managed to detect us. Soon after, there were tracers now flying at us. Deafening cracks and pops of the bullets whizzing just centimeters by me filled my ears. Some of the bullets struck several different pegasi around us, causing them to fall lifelessly towards the ground.

“Dive, Dive, Dive!” I could hear somepony yell over the chaos, causing me to follow behind Baker’s group, who were now descending straight downward towards the city’s seawall. I saw shapes among the streets running around frantically, and I wasn’t sure if they were ponies or Changelings.

I tucked in my wings while diving to increase my speed. We were flying even faster now, trying our best to avoid the hail of bullets flying towards us. The searchlights beam tried to follow us, but we were faster. In about 15 seconds, we were almost to the ground.

I then unfurled my wings again, aching while doing so as our dive slowed down. We readied our weapons again, expecting trouble as soon as we got close. Yet we found nothing. Those shapes that were running around retreated indoors. I still didn’t know if they were Changelings or Ponies. One by one, the Pegasi began to land on the streets near the seawall. I found Baker amongst them and landed next to him, my squad doing the same. Soon, the large formation of pegasi was reduced to a collection of small groups. Some smaller than others.

“Squad, roll call!” Baker yelled as more Pegasi swooped down to land. He silently started counting all of the ponies with us. I saw Boomer, Spade, Buckeye, and the few I didn’t recognize land beside us. Several of us stood on their hind legs and covered each other’s blind spot from multiple directions while the others were still landing. Gunfire and small explosions can be heard echoing off of the building walls all around the city. Nopony was shooting at us though, so that was something. Though with the pony-like figures that we saw retreating indoors, I was skeptical how long it would last. I kept glancing my eyes towards the windows, trying to spot any shapes inside peeking at us. There weren’t any.

“Okay, we’re going. Everypony, spilt with your squad and stay close together. Be slow, be careful, and be wary. The enemy knows we’re here now, and they’ll be looking for us.” He turned East, towards the larger group of buildings that towered over the small houses we landed by. The black spire could also be seen, its ominous presence towering every single building in the city Baker pointed a hoof at it. “That Hive in the center of the city probably has more Changelings inside. And if they heard all of the commotion, they’ll definitely be flying out to join the fight.”

Everypony nodded at one another in silent acknowledgement.

“So, change of plans.” Baker trotted over to another squad, with an even more grizzled looking officer leading them. “Sharp, I want you and 2 other teams to investigate the Hive and relay me your results when you’re done. Let me know what you find.”

“Alright. Wilco.” a gray pegasus officer saluted.

Baker took one moment to gaze upon the remnants of our company. We didn’t lose any, but a few squads were down a few ponies. But for the most part, everypony looked ready. They were eager to get started.

“Okay, let’s go,” Baker announced as he took lead.





The whole company I flew with to get here split apart with one another to avoid bunching up. We all separated into squads of nine, sticking with one another as we tread softly. I was rear guard, meaning I was in charge of watching our flanks - not to be confused with staring at other ponies’ actual flanks - while we all advanced forward. I hovered above the ground and aimed behind us, glancing over my shoulder every now and then to avoid getting lost.

Some of the buildings we passed by were still badly damaged from the first battle of Vanhoover. From what I saw, it seemed that the Changelings didn’t bother to repair anything that they caused. I peeked in some of the windows that were open. I kept thinking I saw shapes moving around, but every closer look I made revealed nothing. Must be my mind playing tricks on me. Though I wasn’t convinced

We started our trek across Vanhoover in the middle of the streets, which had scattered automobiles and some leftover debris littering the streets. Good cover, but we were still in the open. Baker took several detours through derelict alleyways, which had garbage and litter covering the pavement we trotted across. I aimed my Lee Enfield behind us as we slowly trotted forward. Moving between and fro buildings while quietly advancing forward, my mane felt tingly as well as my tail. Apprehension was ripe in the air.

“I don’t like this.” Spade spoke, his voice a whisper of a whisper. “It’s way too quiet for us.” I silently agreed. Gunfire and explosions we heard everywhere but here. It seemed too convenient.

“Shut it. Don’t jinx us!” Baker replied sharply.

Everypony was one edge now. We all kept trading glances at the brick monolithic buildings that surrounded us. Everywhere we went, there was a potential for ambush. Buckeye - the radio pony - stuck close to Baker. We were trained to maintain spacing between one another, on the off-chance a grenade or any type of explosive landed near us to minimize the damage. But in an urban environment with tight alleys and walkways, that was difficult. Sor for now, we all stuck closer together.

We walked outside of an alley and back out into the street again, when we heard it. A series of shots emitting from beyond the building we were facing. The gunfire then intensified. It was really close, about 100 meters or so, beyond what appeared to be an apartment complex connected to another one. The whole street was covered with those same type of buildings, leaving no room for alleyways to move in between.

“Squad, on me. Sweep the building, and man a window.” Baker ordered, as he pointed towards where the gunfire was coming from. “If somepony is in trouble, we have to help.”

One of the rifle ponies went in first, acting as a breacher. He moved slowly, methodically, checking every corner, crook, and cranny. I followed behind, being the second to enter the building. The others were still outside covering our rear. There were about 4 floors in this building. The gunfire that was near us soon transformed into an all out firefight. Explosions were also heard. It seemed they’ve resulted to using grenades.

The layout of the building was… weird. It had a staircase connected in one main chamber in the center, with rooms connecting off to the sides, that morphed into weirdly shaped hallways and bedrooms. The rooms were either unfurnished, or whatever furniture that was left was completely ruined. Charred chairs, sofas with holes in them, walls that had pastel ripped off.

There were windows that overlooked the back side of the building away from the street, revealing a tiny little park with a small garden in the center. That’s when I saw what the gunfire was all about. To my right, there were Changelings huddled behind an overturned wagon and some small stone walls connecting to the park. While to my left, I saw shots being fired from the windows of more buildings that lead into the park. I raised my rifle and took aim a one of the Changelings, who were unaware of our presence.

I hesitated. I had an easy shot on them, and they would most likely not notice me until it was too late. But the building wasn’t cleared first, meaning there could be something inside-

Just as the thought crossed my mind, I heard another shot fired from above me. It sounded powerful, as it echoed through the walls and the ceiling above me. I turned behind me, finding the one rifle pony staring upward as well. There was someone else here.

We trotted slowly upward, trying not to make a sound. I didn’t dare use my wings, thinking that a single flap could give us away. By the time we reached the third floor, the shot rang out again. It was still above us, and off to the right side of the building.

We continued to trot upward in the building, when I heard a voice as well. They sounded unrecognizable. Actually, I had no idea what they were saying at all. It was spoken in an entirely different language. That was the dead giveaway that they were not friendly. We slowed our trot to a crawl, stepping ever so lightly. When we reached the fourth and final floor, we took the door leading in the next room.

We stopped by a corner leading into the room when the shot rang out again. It was way louder than before. The pony in front of me raised a hoof, signalling me to stop. We both huddled near a wall, when he readied his rifle. I did the same. He slowly peaked his head beyond the corner, then retreated back, turning to me.

“One.” his mouth moved, but no noise came out. I nodded, and aimed at the doorway. He then trotted in, his weapon raised.

In the rules of combat, you were taught to force the enemy to surrender if at all possible. It was called ‘The Canterlot Convention’, which was basically a guideline that ruled against all war-crimes in general. If he has his back turned, spook him into submission. If he is hopelessly beat, order them to surrender. Things like that. That was what I imagine happening right now. We both trotted on our hind hooves slowly, our weapons raised at the lone Changeling with a sniper rifle. He was manning a window, aiming to the left at the ponies inside the other buildings. The firefight was still going on outside.

My battle buddy gave a low whistle, making the Changeling flinch. He (He? Them? I’ll assume its a He, since they seem male enough.) turned to quickly face us, and found to rifled aiming at him. His eyes widened.

“Drop it.” I muttered, low and menacingly. “I see so much as a shimmer from your horn, and you’re getting a new breathing hole.” The rifle clattered on the floor, the Changeling raising his hooves in the air.

“Scheiße!” the Changeling growled.

The pony next to me (I really need to learn his name) trotted over and kicked the rifle out of the way, and proceeded to subdue the Changeling. He pulled out a pair of metallic cuffs. He restrained him, then placed a small ring over its horn - which was difficult considering the horn looks misshapen and deformed. After he placed a gag in his mouth, he signalled me to get the others.

I galloped toward a window leading outside towards the street, finding the others looking up at me. “We got one of them restrained up here. There’s a firefight on the other side.” I called out.

“Alright, move! Get inside and occupy a window! Wait on my mark!” Baker yelled, as ponies began to file in one by one. I heard thunderous hoofsteps below me, and gunfire outside of the building.

I then heard a shrill and pained yell behind me, coming from the room where the Changeling was in. I rushed back in, and barged in to a horrific scene. The pony who was patting him down now had a horn impaling his neck, going all the way through. I felt my stomach twist into knots, as my battle buddy gagged and coughed up blood. His expression morphed into pure terror. He collapsed backwards, and went still afterward.

The Changeling pulled his horn back, and turned to face me. He couldn’t move his hooves, and his magic was useless, but he could still fly. He hovered in place as he stared at me, and began to fly rapidly towards me. I was snapped out of my stunned state, and was barely able to dodge to the right. He overshot me, and his horn got stuck in the wall.

PKOW!

I shot rang out from my rifle, aimed at his head. He was slumped on the wall afterward, remaining motionless as his horn was still stuck. Green ooze seeped down his left temple. My hooves were shaking. I gazed back at the pony on the floor. A pool of blood was forming underneath him, his eyes gazing behind his head. He was dead.

Baker and Buckeye ran in and stopped cold at the scene. I was holding my rifle, shakily I should add. Two dead soldiers were next to me, one by my hooves.

“Ch-Changeling, he- he… he stabbed him with… h-his horn.” was all I could mutter. I felt revolted from the inside out. I tried my best not too look at visceral display of corpses in front of me. I was shivering like mad, and I felt… wrong, all over me. “C-Couldn’t save him…”

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt!

Sounds of machine gun fire were heard outside, as bullets whizzed inside the room through the windows. I fell on the floor, and crawled my way towards the doorway. Baker and Buckeye retreated back into the hall with the staircase.

“Open fire! I want Fire Supremacy!” Baker yelled at the top of his lungs, as more gunfire was firing back towards the Changelings. I heard Spade’s gun firing away with righteous fury, as the whole building kept shooting.

I made my way towards the staircase, violently shivering at the ordeal I was enduring. Adrenaline tingled all over my body. “Find a window and shoot back!” Baker ordered. I trembled as I got up to my hooves, and proceeded to head towards the left side of the staircase - ‘left’ in the perception that you were outside staring at the front of the building. I found another poorly furnished room, and peeked over a window. The Changelings behind the stone wall were limping lifelessly along it, while the ones behind the wagon were still exchanging shots at the building. One of them had an MG pointed at our building, spraying away.

“Wait ‘till he reloads, then counter-attack!” I heard a voice call out below me. I aimed my rifle by the wagon, at the Machine Gunner.

PKOW!

The shot failed to connect and landed on the ground beside him. He turned his attention toward me, making me zip back behind the window. More tracers were flying in the building. I cocked the bolt, loading my next shot.

“Who’s got a grenade?!” I yelled towards the doorway where I walked in from.

“I can’t get a good angle. He’s got me pinned!” I heard Boomer reply.

I cursed under my breath, as I laid down. He was still spraying at us. How much ammo does that thing have?!

“It’s belt fed! We’re gonna be here a while if we can’t kill him soon!” somepony else screamed.

“Clock, Sunshine, get outside and flank them! See if you can divert their attention.” Baker ordered.

“On my way!” I heard a mare respond diligently. I crawled my way towards the doorway leading to the staircase, then proceeded to gallop my way down, following a peach colored mare with a blue mane. I saw several other ponies huddling near windows, shooting and ducking as I made my way down.

We made it outside, as me and clock headed towards another building. We dashed along the street finding a building that’ll give us a clear line of sight on the enemy squad. We found one, but the door was locked, and it wouldn’t budge. A few bucks from both of us quickly changed that, as we both rushed inside, not bothering to check the rooms. We found a window, and found the enemy next. They were unaware of our presence.

“Shoot the MG, I’ll get the rest.” I said, as I aimed at the Changeling. He kept shooting at the building where the others were in, but his head turned towards my general direction. Then he noticed me. His eyes widened.

PKOW!

Down goes another one.

Clock then fired, killing one of them as well. By then, they were aware of our presence, but were too badly wounded to fend us off from all directions. One of them yelled something in their language, pointing at a building behind them. They then proceeded to rush inside through the door, exchanging shots. There were only about five of them left.

“Shit, they went inside. We gotta head back.” Clock muttered, as she turned to leave. I followed. We made our way back inside the original building, where the gunfire died down to sporadic pops. The ponies who were in the other building fighting them were still firing away at the enemy.

“They made it back inside a building. They won’t budge!” I called out as I galloped in.

“Shit, going to clear that is gonna be a bitch. And we can’t advance forward pass them...” Baker spoke aloud. “Where’s my Engie?” he called out.

“I’m alive!” I heard a stallion’s voice call out above me.

“I need a Satchel Charge at that building. We’ll cover you, just blow that damn building to pieces!”

“I’m gonna need smoke, I won’t get close enough without being shot up.”

“Got it!” at those words, I reached into my pack and pulled out a No. 77 Grenade - smoke variant. I pressed the trigger at the top, and heaved them at the base of their building. Immediately after impact, smoke was spewing out. I watched as others did the same thing. Soon, only the windows could be seen. Everything else was blocked off, and out of sight.

“Okay I’m going. Spade, give me some covering fire!” He then dove out of a window, using his wings to glide down to safety. Spade fired burst shots at the windows with his Vickers. It seemed to be working. The Changelings weren’t shooting back. They were under too much fire. I wondered why they weren’t pulling back, considering how hopeless this engagement was to them.

The engineer made his way at the base of the building, and proceeded to fiddle with his pack. He then pulled out a satchel, which I assumed was the ‘Satchel Charge’ Baker was referring to. He pulled out a lighter, and flicked with it a few times, before lighting the fuse. He then chucked it into a window above him, and galloped away as fast as a pony possibly could. He dove into a window in our building, and ducked his head. “Get Down!” he yelled.

BOOOOOM!

A mighty explosion shook the ground we were standing on, as shrapnel and dust billowed outward. The whole building groaned and collapsed in on itself with a resounding crash. Dust and soot covered the entire garden, and nopony could see well beyond 50 meters. When the noise died down, the gunfire stopped. I heard a faint ringing in my right ear.

I peaked over the window, and saw the remains of the building. It was completely flattened. The buildings next to it had large gaping holes off to the side. Anything, or anyone, inside of there was most certainly dead.

“Did that do it?!” I heard the engineer yell below me. I was fairly certain, given the volume of his voice, that he was slightly deaf as well.





“We appreciate the assistance,” The officer thanked Baker. “We lost three of our guys before you showed up. Ambushed us from across the park.”

“Lost one of ours, too. Stabbed by a Changeling when we were trying to take him into captivity.” Baker then replied. We all met outside in the park, where the medic of our squad were tending to the wounded. There were about 6 confirmed casualties, 3 of which were KIAs. The other three that remained were in no shape to fight, one had a piece of shrapnel embedded in his eye. I couldn’t look.

“Sorry to hear. We appreciate it nonetheless, though.” The officer turned towards his squad of ponies, who were deflated and exhausted from the firefight. “Alright, when the medic’s done, we’re continuing with the mission. So hold defensives positions until then.”

“Same goes to you, as well.” Baker also turned to face us. “I want 360 security on the perimeter. Make sure another encounter like that doesn’t happen again, where we can get the drop on them this time.”

I saw as ponies slowly dispersed to their positions, the wounded staying near the rubble of the building that was recently demolished beyond recognition. My hearing had returned to me, though it still hurt. I flew up to the Side Gabled Roofs of one of the still standing buildings (which I will refer to as Condos, since they seemed to be living quarters.) I mounted my rifle along the crest of the roof, aiming below me towards a street stretching further towards downtown. My body rested along the Dormer Window sticking out towards the park. The black Hive Spire could be seen stretching up above the cloudlayer, its base illuminated by vibrant orange lights from below it. I then discovered that they were fires.

Gunfire, Explosions, Sirens, and some panicked Screaming, can be heard all around me. The city was in a state of complete disarray. Tracers could be seen flying through the air, completely missing whatever target they were aiming for originally. I turned towards the seaside of the harbor, where we originally landed. I saw more and more shapes of Pegasi flying in from the sea. About thirty minutes has passed since the first groups have landed, and now the last few are finally arriving.

By now, there were about 25,000 pony soldiers in the city limits alone. Not counting the civilians.

The sound of a larger explosion caught my attention, making me face towards the spire again. A large blast of fire was seen billowing upward from a cluster of higher tower like buildings that were placed near the spire. Its cloud flew gently upward, as the hot shockwave of the blast washed over me.

Soon, I heard a new sound. It was an engine, up high in the sky. I saw more shapes flying up there, but they were not Changelings or ponies. One of them flew through the cloud of fire that had appeared, dissipating the smoke as it flew gracefully through.

They were stukas. Their air support had arrived.

Baker flew up near me, and turned to look at the sky. “Fuck!” he muttered. “Buckeye, get over here! I need your radio!”

More of the stukas dove down on the city, and continued to descend. Before they could hit the ground, a terrifying siren could be heard from them, despite the distance from them to us. They then pulled up swiftly, as more large explosions decorate the city. The same blasts of fire were seen floating upward.

“They’re indiscriminately bombing civilians…” I muttered. “Just to kill us.” I felt something at those words I uttered. I felt… I couldn’t place my hoof on it. It was a mixed feeling of anger, despair, and sadness.

“Welcome to war.” Baker replied, as Buckeye landed next to him. Baker pulled out his telephone, and spoke into it. “All Stations, the enemy has air superiority. They are sending out CAS planes to pummel us into submission. Maintain the offensive, and stay in cover. Over and out!” he stowed the telephone away.

“Baker, sir! The wounded are mended! I did the best I could.” the medic yelled from below us.

“Alright! Everypony gather your gear, we’re moving NorthEast!”





We set off towards Downtown, where the monolithic and surprisingly blank condos increased in height as we trotted closer. We scavenged the ammo needed from the dead (which I did not participate in. Killing an enemy and looting its corpse was one thing, but looting fallen soldiers was something to grizzly even for me.) and split it evenly amongst ourselves. I had about 8 10-round stripper clips left in my pack, plus whatever I had left in my rifle. I tallied the numbers in my head, thinking back to the previous engagement. I had about 7 shots left in this rifle, and I didn’t want to bother manually reloading it by slotting individual bullets in the chamber. I decided I could wait.

As the battle continued, parts of the city were cut off of electricity, resulting in a blackout in some sectors. It didn’t occur in our side of the city, but I doubt that would last for long. There weren’t many lights emitting from the windows of the condos, but there were enough. The street lamps also helped.

Several times over, we had one of the rifle ponies (me included) fly up ahead and scout forward, usually resulting in visual contact and a quick detour. Our goal was still heading towards the city hall, a 5 story building with a balcony on the fourth floor stretching all around and above the circular foundation of the building. At lEast, that’s what Baker said.

I remember, when I was a filly growing up in ponyville, that my mother would take trips down to the marketplace next to the Carousel Boutique. I would stand and stare at the architecture of it in awe, wondering how and why that kind of building could exist. I had no idea at the time what it was used for, all I knew was that it looked pretty. It had a circular foundation as well, with a spire Gable Roof that looked like a spinning top flipped upside down. For some reason, that was what I imagined the city hall would look like. I would soon see enough.

An hour has passed since the invading force landed, and the garrison army is wide awake now. What used to be a collection of sporadic pops and small firecracker-like explosions, now transformed into automatic gunfire and massive ‘Booms’. The Stukas in the sky were flying all over the city, firing their cannons towards the ground when they ran out of bombs. We had to keep moving and retreating inside the condos all around us when one of them looked like it was heading towards us. Thankfully, no gunfire came, and we pushed on.

We trotted for about 25 minutes since we left the small park, heading further East into the city. We were trotting toward the general direction of the hive that towered over everything. Everypony was more on edge ever since we left the gardens. More rapid gunfire was heard near us towards the South, though we didn’t bother to check it. We had more pressing objectives to tend to, as Baker said.

We decided, unless absolutely necessary, to not go inside the buildings. Changelings could literally be anywhere, and we wouldn’t know until it was too late. We stayed close to the sides of the street, but never on it directly. More wrecked automobiles and debris littered the pavement we trotted on. We saw ponies galloping across the street ahead of us, giving us a startle. But no gunfire was exchanged. The conflict was escalating by the minute, but it seemed we were making progress.

I had no experience with Urban warfare - aside from our last encounter - so I was constantly checking over my shoulder and above me to ensure we wouldn’t get jumped. But with so many windows, alleyways, streets, corners, crooks, doorways, and otherwise, it was impossible to cover everything at once.

Baker ordered us to take a left towards another small alleyway that led to another open street. When we emerged, we saw a bell tower towering over the rest of the structures around it towards the narrow end of the street. Several Apartment Complexes were placed next to it. They were about 6 floors high, with windows peeling out on every face. The bell tower itself looked ruined, but still standing. It had a large chunk of its top blown off, leaving space for several ponies to trot around inside. It was about a 3 minute trot toward it.

The apartments next to it were in worse condition. The walls that were on the base of the now unstable structure were gone. It looked like the work of a very angry pony wielding a sledgehammer, except it wasn’t. It was caused by something else. Bombing, maybe.

“Stay alert, our destination is beyond that tower. We’re out in the open, so keep your heads on a swivel.” Baker softly spoke, as if he was trying not to wake someone up. I focused on the sounds of warfare all around me. Too late for that, I thought to myself.

Then a whistling sound filled my ears, followed by a deafening crack. Somepony to my left groaned in excruciating pain, as I turned to look at Spade collapsing on the street.

“Sniper! Take cover!” Baker yelled, as we all ran in seperate directions in the condos next to us. The medic was trying to drag Spade towards Baker, when another shot rang off. It landed on the ground next to him, forcing him to pick up the pace. Blood was trailing on the street from where Spade was originally.

I retreated to the right side of the street, following Boomer and the Engineer. We both took position behind a countertop located further inside the building. This place used to be a storefront, I could tell that much. It was ruined and useless now, but it provided good cover. Nopony dared to peek outside, in fear of a retaliatory shot from the sniper. Baker and the others were huddled behind a pile of rubble near another storefront across the street, huddling one another as they stayed low. Another shot went off, striking the top of the pile they were hiding behind. They instinctevly ducked their heads again.

“I need a smoke on that street, now!” Baker yelled. The medic tended to Spade’s wounds, as he pulled a syringe and jabbed it into his torso. I saw a bullet hole oozing blood right below his left wither.

The peach colored pony - Clock -  beside baker pulled out a grenade, and chucked into the middle of the street, before immediately ducking back down again. Another shot rang off, missing where Clock was just milliseconds before. A ‘poof’ emitted from the street, and white vapor was pouring out. A few seconds later, and the whole street was blocked off.

I watched as Clock peek her head over the mound. A few seconds later, another shot whizzed by, landing right in her head. She jerked back, and fell backwards tumbling down the pile of rubble. Her body landed right in front of the medic, who was startled by the sudden appearance of a dead pony. I felt a black vine tug around my heart at the sight of her corpse.

“Fuck, he can still see us!” Spade yelled in frustration, and in pain. “What do we do, sir?”

“Give me a minute, I need to think!” Baker replied sharply.

“We don’t have a minute!” The medic butted in.

“Alright Boomer, Sunshine, loop around the building your in, and find out where he’s shooting from! Everypony else, stay down and don’t move; He’s got skill!” Baker pointed a hoof at my direction.

“Okay, lets go!” Boomer pulled me away from the storefront window - or what’s left of it - and galloped out through the back. I followed closely behind, making our way outside through the back door. Another ruined street came into view, as Boomer unfurled his wings and took off. He flew up to where he was just below the skyline of the roofs, not peeking over. I did the same, and we both proceeded to fly away from Baker and the others. When we were about 100 meters out from them, we stopped and hovered in place.

Boomer was a charcoal coated pony with a deep gray mane, making it easy for him to blend in with whatever kind of darkness he could find. The roofs were darkly colored, so it was somewhat safe for him to peek over. We both landed on a slanted roof of another condo, when he peeked over. I heard another powerful shot go off towards where the apartments were, making me and Boomer flinch back down. But no bullet whizzed over. Boomer slowly peeked over again, scanning all over the city around us trying to find the sharpshooter.

I peeked over, and saw the ruined apartments came into view. The bell tower was located in the center of a plaza, it looked like. It looked like some kind of residential block, with a larger paved street connecting to all the apartments and the tower at once. There was an open door located on the front of the tower leading inside, as well as a spiral staircase encompassing around the exterior of it. I then saw a flash of light emit from under the now ruined top of the tower. Another shot rang out not even a second after.

“There! In the top floor of that tower.” I pointed a hoof toward it. Boomer turned to look, as he reached into his vest to pull out binoculars. He zoomed in on the tower, eyeing it carefully.

“Yeah, I see him.” he paused. “Actually, I see two of them. A spotter and a sniper. They got our guys pinned.” Boomer spoke aloud. He stowed the binos away, and pulled out his rifle. The tower was still quite a distance away, about 200 meters or so, but he still aimed down the sights. “You flank around, and see if you can get a good angle on the spotter. I can’t get a shot on him.”

“Okay, cover me. I’m gonna loop around from the right.” I announced, as I turned around to drop off of the roof.

“Careful.” he added before I glided down.





I galloped as fast as my hooves could let me, sticking to any cover I could find while I was in the open. The sniper duo was focusing on the others, but they could still see me at any given time should I stay in the open for too long. Ruined automobiles, piles of rubble, destroyed wagons, and crumbled buildings proved to be sufficient enough.

I then stopped at the edge of an open intersection, the apartments visible on the other side. I hugged the corner of another condo stopping at the intersection, and peeked over. The bell tower was closer now, but I was below them. I had no shot. The apartments were across the plaza from them, meaning I would have an open shot if I made it across alive.

I contemplated my actions for a short while, aware of the consequences should I fail. By the second, my team was under the threat of being eliminated one by one. I couldn’t stall them for too long, they were counting on me! I had to be quick and thorough. I didn’t have a good angle on the top of the tower, but neither did they on me. If I was quick enough, I could make it across. But the distance between me and the other side of the street was immense enough to give the snipers plenty of time to react.

Galloping across was out of the question. It was too slow. I could fly faster, though.

I unfurled my aching and tired wings once more, and shifted into a low stance. Then I propelled myself forward with haste. In about 4 seconds, I flew across the street. No shots were aimed at me, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I made my way around the rear end of the apartment I was in, and found a large hole in the wall. There were no doors. I aimed my rifle inside, as I carefully trotted over the small pile of concrete and rubble. I didn’t have time to check the whole building, so instead I assumed it was empty and made my way upstairs through the maintenance staircase.

I stopped at the fourth floor and made my way down a narrow hallway. There were doors on the walls next to me leading to more bedrooms. I trotted through a detached doorway, and found two windows looking outside. One of the windows had no glass pane blocking off the window frame. The room was poorly illuminated, as the lights inside of it weren’t on. The power must’ve been out for a while. That was good though, given that they couldn’t see me that well.

I saw another flash and heard another shot come from the tower. I could see the two Changelings more clearly, who were still shooting at the street where Baker was at. I aimed through the broken window, and lined up my sights at them. One of their heads lined up nicely with my iron sights, who was standing on his hind legs.

PKOW!

One tracer landed right in the spotters’ left temple, causing his head to jerk back uncontrollably. He collapsed with a heap. The sniper took notice of my presence, and immediately started to relocate.

I heard another shot go off, but it didn’t come from the tower. Another bullet flew in from the left and landed in his chest as he was moving. He stumbled forward after the impact, and fell over the edge of the tower. I heard a scream, then silence as he landed on the ground neck first.

He went still after that.





Boomer and I made our way back towards the rest of the group, who were still (metaphorically) licking their wounds. Spade was still alive, but he was in no condition for over-strenuous activity anytime soon from what I saw. White bandages covered his torso, with a spot of crimson staining his upper left chest.

Clock wasn’t so lucky. Her lifeless eyes were staring in one direction, a bloody red hole planted in between her eyes. My mind lingered back to the memory of Salsa’s corpse, back in the mountains. I fought the sudden urge to hurl.

“Targets neutralized.” Boomer reported as we both trotted towards them.

“Good lad. Will he make it?” Baker asked the medic.

“He’ll live. He’ll be in pain for the rest of the day, but he’ll live.” she replied.

“Don’t you have any morphine?” I asked as I trotted closer, trying to ignore the peach colored corpse that was still there.

“I don’t have a lot, just about 6 syringes left. I need to save them for those who really need it.” I didn’t know what you had to do to qualify for needing morphine. But I wasn’t the medic, so I couldn’t protest.

“We need to keep moving, we have to capture that city hall.” Baker ordered as he stood up. He trotted atop the pile of rubble, heading further down the street towards the plaza. “Everypony gather your things, and move out.”

We all groaned and slowly got up to our hooves, as we proceeded to follow behind. I trotted over to Spade and helped the medic get him on his hooves. He almost fell down on the ground a few times when he stepped forward, but he was on his hooves.

I proceeded to follow Baker’s group, until I paused. I looked behind me and gazed at Clock’s corpse. I walked over to her, and gazed down at her face. It was devoid of any life. I pulled my hoof over her eyelids, shutting them. She looked more peaceful now, save for the bullet wound on her head. My stomach twisted in knots again.

“May Luna guide you.” I whispered softly, my eyes feeling stingy. I then galloped back toward the others, closing the distance.





We found ourselves sprinting down a more narrow street compared to the ones we’ve seen so far. It had more of those ruined condos off to the sides, some of them not even condos and instead just piles of rubble. The Stukas were doing a number in this city. Rapid gunfire could be heard in front of us, as we saw ponies up ahead taking cover behind an overturned automobile. About 5 of them, with 3 more laying dead around them.

“Squad, get ready for contact!” Baker yelled as we galloped closer. “Rain, Spade, flank right and get an angle on them. Use the buildings to your advantage. Sunshine, and Gear,” He pointed at the engineer. “You’re flanking left doing the same thing. The rest of you are staying with me, we’re gonna give them the time they need to fight back. Go go go!”

We scrambled into different directions. I followed behind the Engineer - who I now know as Gear because of the two metallic gears for his Cutie Mark - as we both made our way towards the left side of the street. As we got closer to the end, we took a left in a small alleyway, galloped forward, then took a right to another open street, where we saw another firefight taking place.

We stopped upon a few squads of Changeling soldiers huddled behind sandbags with tank traps on the front. They were exchanging automatic and semi-automatic fire with ponies about 50 meters across from them. They were deadlocked, and neither side budged. But they didn’t notice us.

“Oh shit.” Gear spoke. “Back up, back up!” he patted his hoof at my chest as he backpedaled away from the action.

One of the Changeling soldiers ducked behind the sandbag, his back leaning against it as he reloaded. He then looked up, and noticed both of us trotting away. He shouted in their language, pointing a hoof at me. I didn’t hesitate. I pulled my rifle up, and took aim.

PKOW!

It struck his chest. He wriggled around on the ground as he clutched his wound in agony, green liquid spurting out of it. I cocked the bolt, as the others turned around and noticed us as well. They aimed their weapons at us.

I felt Gear violently shove me out of the way as the Changelings opened fire. I fell to the ground on my back side, while he stood over me. “I said back up, not shoot!” he yelled as he pulled me up to my hooves.

“They found us already! I had to!” I replied, as we both galloped back to where we came. I looked back, and found bullets striking the wall where we just were. While I was looking back, I tripped over a piece of litter in my path, making me fall on my face. Fiery pain covered my snout, as I tasted and smelled copper. I put a hoof over it, and found blood staining it.

“Shit! Come on, get up!” Gear exclaimed. He dragged me by my shoulders and placed me behind a wooden barrel in the middle of an alleyway. More shots were going off behind me where Baker and the others were, as I stared in front of me where the other Changelings were at.

I then saw a shadow creep on the wall where we were at. I could feel my eyes widen. “They’re coming, they’re coming!” I yelled as I roughly shrugged Gear off, pulling out my rifle. I mounted the gun atop the wooden barrel, and aimed at the alleyway. A single Changeling soldier carrying a sub-machine gun trotted into view.

PKOW!

The shot missed his head barely, as he whipped back in cover again behind the wall. I cocked bolt again, and aimed. He didn’t come back into view.

“He’s behind that left corner!” I called out as I fired a suppressive shot by the wall he was hiding behind. Then I saw as the gun he was holding peeked around the corner.

Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka!

Bullets whizzed by as I hid behind the barrel. Some of the bullets struck through the wood on the other side, missing me by just inches. I felt adrenaline coursing my veins, as my heart beated like a jackhammer.

“Covering fire!” Gear yelled as he took a shot from behind the wall he was at. “Go, move up!” he fired another shot.

I vaulted over the ruined barrel, and galloped forward. There was a small ‘square’ of space that was in between the two alleyways that had a small patch of grass in the middle of it. I hid behind a building corner on the other side, and peeked over. There was nothing there for now, but I could hear mechanical noises on the other side. He was reloading.

I took another suppressive shot at the ground beside him, losing count at how many bullets I had left. I cocked the bolt again, and loaded another shot. Gear took a shot as well, achieving the same results. The Changeling’s weapon peeked out again as I ducked behind the wall. More automatic fire whizzed by me, missing me and Gear entirely. He was firing blindly so it wasn’t much of a precision burst, but rather a suppressive burst. Like what me and Gear were doing.

“I’m gonna move up, get ready!” I heard Gear call out from behind me. I turned to look as he peeked his head out from beyond the corner, eyeing my direction. He then turned around and sprinted towards me.

I was about to turn back around the corner I was hiding behind to suppress the Changeling, when more automatic fire was exchanged. Gear ducked behind the barrel I hid behind earlier. When the gunfire stopped, I pulled out a No. 69 grenade from my grenade pouch - a high explosive impact frag. I pressed the trigger at the top, and tossed at the space beyond the corner of the wall.

BOOM!

An explosion shook the surface as the ‘nade went off. It was replaced by the sounds of agonizing yells afterward. The poor bastard was still alive, and very much in pain. His yells turned into screams. I peeked the corner, and saw green liquid covering the brick walls of the alleyway. A black foreleg with sickly holes near the tip was found lying in the middle of the walkway. The screams soon turned into gurgles, and coughs. Then a long droning exhale that turned into silence.

I turned back to Gear, who was peeking his head over the barrel with a disgusted expression. He saw the foreleg, and his cheeks bulged. He ducked behind the barrel to vomit. I felt my stomach twist in appalled protest as well, but I managed to keep the contents inside me.

I aimed my rifle towards the edge of the ruined alleyway, waiting to see if any more would show up. The gunfire that was on the other side of the alleyway seemed to have died down somewhat. The engagement was over, it sounded like. I didn’t know who won.

I retreated back behind the wall, and turned towards Gear. He was still behind the barrel as he finished losing his meal. He then emerged around it, and stopped cold. His eyes widened.

Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka!

Dozens of tracers zoomed by the alleyway, almost all of which struck Gear. I watched in horror as his body collapsed on the ground. He sat on his haunches against a wall, his chest riddled with bullet holes. Blood was seeping out of all of them. He was bleeding profusely.

He coughed and gagged, while he weakly raised a hoof at me. His face was that of a plea for help. I couldn’t do anything. I was petrified. Motionless.

Braka-Braka-Braka!

More shots struck him, and seconds later he was still. His face was forever locked in an expression of terror. A pool of blood was forming under him.

I was shaking intensely. My hooves held on to the rifle with shaky movements. My breathing was rough and paced. I felt like I was on the verge of a stroke, while a tight pressure formed around my throat. I couldn’t help but stare at his lifeless body, his eyes staring at me indefinitely.

“Ziel neutralisiert!” I heard a voice call out from beyond the visceral alleyway.

“Machen Sie die Gasse frei! Mach Schnell!” I heard the same voice spoke. Or at lEast it sounded like it. I couldn’t tell.

I was snapped out of my horrified state when I heard hoofsteps around the corner. I backed up slowly not making a sound, aiming my gun at the space where they would come through. I aimed through my iron sights, not able to contain my breathing. I found another ruined wagon near the wall behind me, and knelt behind it. Covering my snout with my left hoof, I aimed ahead and waited.

I wasn’t sure how much ammo I had left. I cocked the bolt last time to know that I one in the chamber, at lEast. I was willing to make it count. A shadow crept along the wall, and I squinted my left eye. The black shadow changed into a silhouette, as he appeared around the corner. As I was about to pull the trigger, I saw another shadow creep up behind the first one to cross through. There was more than one.

I hesitated, and waited a tiny bit longer. What lasted in a span of a few seconds felt like an eternity. The Changeling turned his head around the alleyway, eyeing Gear’s corpse with suspicion. He trotted over to it slowly, aiming his sub-machine gun towards the alleyway I came from. He then kicked a hoof at his leg, to see if he was still alive.

He was literally kicking the dead horse, figuratively and physically.

I felt a spark of rage ignite into a righteous fury in my core. I spotted the second Changeling trot behind him into view, as he turned towards his right. He then noticed me. His eyes and mouth instantaneously widen as he tried to speak.

PKOW!

I let my rifle do the talking for him, as the bullet landed in the center of his neck. He tumbled backward and fell into a pile of ruined barrels, each of them breaking apart as he collapsed upon them. Green liquid was gushing out of his new breathing hole, as his weapon clambered on the ground. He wiggled around in the broken pile of wood, his voice gagging and hacking in pain.

There was no time to waste, I had to act now! After I shot at him, I vaulted over the wagon and charged the second Changeling head first. He was barely able to turn around in time to see a pegasus galloping towards him. Instead of trying to use his weapon, he instead attempted to dodge to the left away from me. I was one step ahead of him.

I unfurled my wings once more, and used them to propel myself forward to tackle him. We both collided with each other, as his weapon skidded across the floor. I still held onto mine as I landed atop of him on the ground. He laid back first as I raised the gun up and cocked it as quickly as I could. The second the bolt slid into place to fire again, the Changeling used his forehooves to punch the rifle out of my magnetic hooves’ range, and sent it flying behind me.

Then he tried to stab me, with his horn. He raised his head upward, lunging straight at my chest. I caught his head with my hooves, his horn just inches away from my torso. He looked at me with angry and determined eyes, and hissed at me with his green serpent like tongue. I grunted loudly and growled fiercely in response, with murderous intent.

I groaned in pain and in struggle as I was pushing the horn away from me with all my strength. It was barely getting closer, as he kept pushing forward. As it was less than an inch away, I twisted my waist towards the right, and launched his head forward where he was pushing towards. His momentum carried him forward far enough to where I could grab his head more tightly.

He then launched a hoof at my stomach with such force that the wind was knocked out of me. He turned his body around to face me as he was swinging his other hoof at my face. I countered it with my left hoof, stopping it before it struck. The force of his punch still bruised my leg. Then I lunged my face forward towards him, and headbutted him. Sharp pain stung my already hurting face, as I heard a sick cracking noise emit from his snout. He screamed in pain, and clutched his nose with one hoof. I then struck his left eye with my right hoof to follow through.

He collapsed backwards on the pavement, clutching his head with both hooves. He was softly moaning, as I wearily got up to my hooves. I stood over him on all fours as I bit into the hilt of the Combat Knife in my vest pocket, unsheathing it. I trotted closer to him while shaking, bleeding, and hurting. He opened his eyes to find me standing over him with the knife, ready to kill.

I mounted atop of him, and grabbed the knife with both of my hooves and slammed it down towards him blade first. He grabbed my hooves and tried to resist. I pushed downward as the blade crept closer to him by an inch. Then another inch. And another.

His eyes were widening as it got closer. I closed mine as I felt the blade touch him. Then I pushed downward even harder. Tears were flowing freely from my eyes, but I didn’t care. I kept pushing. I heard a small yelp. Then I felt an incision. Then I heard a gushing noise, as I felt his grip weakening. Gagging and hacking noises were heard from below me, as I kept pushing.

He went limp underneath me, and the knife was all the way through him now. I finally opened my eyes to find his eyes still staring at me, not moving.  It turned from a blue glow to a grayish haze, the life of him drained from existence.

I stared at him, breathing heavily in quick and shaky succession. Then I pulled the knife out and slammed it down his face, screaming. I slammed it down again into his chest. And again. And again. And again. And again…

I released the green stained blade as I collapsed backward. I heard gunfire all around me, as well as explosions and screaming. I didn’t care. I wanted them to get closer. I wanted them to find out what I did, and finish me out of spite. I wanted to die. I felt like I had committed the most foulest atrocity, which I probably did. I cried tears of agony. I couldn’t contain it anymore. Everything that I held back so far was released. My vomit, my tears, my screams of sorrow.





I slowly, groggily stood on my hooves. Stepping over the corpse, I made my way back to Gear’s corpse. He was still facing where I was standing earlier when I watched him die. I patted his vest, looking for anything that might be useful for me. I picked up an extra smoke and an extra frag grenade. I tried my best to avoid my gaze directing towards his face.

I then heard an explosion coming from the street ahead of me going off to my right. It was at that moment where I remembered why I was back here in this traumatic alleyway in the first place. I gathered my wits, my equipment, and retreated back inside of a condo overlooking where Baker was supposed to be.

I stopped cold when I entered inside. Four small ponies - really young adults, they looked like - were huddled together by the central staircase, surrounding what looked like a barrel with trash inside of it. They set fire to it, and have huddled around it for warmth. They looked towards me, and stared at me with mixed expressions of hope, fear, anticipation, and grief.

One of them looked barely older than a filly. She steadily backpedaled away from me, into the hooves of another mare who looked older than her. The older mare held on to the young one with her front hooves, staring at me with fearful doubt.

Nopony spoke. We just stood there, staring at each other. I trotted toward the staircase, slowly. They took another step back.

“Is there anyone upstairs?” I asked blankly as I kept trotting forward, not really asking for an answer. They didn’t. I kept trotting upstairs, slowly.

“Is… is it dead?” One of the mares spoke.

“You’ll have to be specific.” I deadpanned.

“The changeling… the one that was outside.”

I nodded to her. I didn’t go into detail. Not that they asked me to, anyway. I trotted my way upstairs slowly and found a window frame overlooking another circular intersection. I smashed the glass in the frame, which made a deafening sound of shattering . My squad, along with several other ponies, were still huddled behind the large automobile. Further down the street, there were Changelings that were taking cover behind a tram car that ran along the rails embedded into the street. It was turned horizontal towards me, giving the changelings more cover to work with.

I shrugged my rifle off, and aimed down the street. My iron sights were larger than their silhouettes at a distance, making it a bit more difficult to acquire up a shot. Eventually, I lined up a shot and pulled the trigger.

Click!

No shot was fired. I inspected the weapon, cocked the bolt to make sure it wasn’t jammed. That was when I noticed that I hadn’t reloaded it after my last encounter. I fetched into my ammo pouch and pulled out two magnetic stripper clips, each of them carrying 5 rounds. I fed each clip into the opened chamber and cocked the bolt again.

I finished reloading and aimed ahead. I reacquired my target and pulled the trigger again. This time, a golden tracer was shot forward and barely missed one changeling who was peeking on the right side. He retreated back behind the tram car. I heard Baker yell from down below me.

“Boomer, blast them to fucking pieces with your Thunderbolt!”

I peeked at the window just in time to see Boomer stare at Baker, sitting behind the automobile. “Now?! You want me to do that shit now?!” He exclaimed.

“JUST DO IT!” Baker yelled back at him.

Boomer looked like he gave an overexaggerated sigh, as he took off his large pack and reached into it. Eventually, he pulled out a tube-like weapon. He placed it standing upright on its rear while standing on his hooves. He placed his two hind heels on two handles located on the rear side of the launcher, and gripped the sticks just above that to cock it with his two front hooves.

I took another shot at two changelings who ran out of cover to advance towards a pile of rocks and rubble on the sidewalk. The shot connected to one of their hooves, who stumbled forward behind the pile of rubble in response.

After about 20 seconds of cocking the Thunderbolt - while simultaneously being under fire - Boomer finally reached into his pack and pulled out a mortar-shaped round, and fed it into the barrel of the launcher. He then pulled down a little support beam from under the barrel, and mounted it atop the ruined car.

	Cha-pwoot!

	I watched the projectile launch way up above the street. Then arc downward. I saw the changelings look up in the sky, and then try to scramble in different directions.

Boom!

The explosion didn’t sound as loud, but it appeared to looked just as effective despite the range. The tram car looked as if it disintegrated into pieces. The changelings around it were either dead from the blast, or were knocked back by a few meters. The ones still alive were easy pickings. One of them peeked from over the rubble pile off to the right. I gave fired another shot, landing right in his forehead. Boomer turned around - with a grin so wide that it made me feel uneasy.

“Got ‘em!”

I eyed the street, waiting for more to show up. But none came.





I was now trotting over towards them, as they stayed huddled behind the automobile while tending to the wounded. There were ponies who were covered in bandages, as I saw white pieces of cloth stained red littering the pavement around them. Baker saw me come over, caked in dried red and green blood.

“Wh… where’s Gear?” Baker asked.

“He…” I started, only to stop immediately. I struggled with my thoughts for seconds, before sighing. My head felt just as numb as my heart to come up with something to say. “Dead.” I finished.

“Oh.” He deadpanned. “And… the ones who-”

“Also dead.” I interrupted. “4 of them, at lEast. Others didn’t come.”

“Oh.” He spoke again, in the exact same tone but with a different expression. One of… discomfort, maybe?

“Well. You did good, soldier.” He complimented, rather poorly.

“It doesn’t feel good, with due respect.” I replied blankly, staring into space. I couldn’t help it. My mind lingered back to that encounter with livid detail; how I blew the Changeling’s leg off; how I shot one in the neck; green blood spurting out of it as he was still alive; I thought about Gear’s death, how he stared at me as his life ended abruptly; how I stabbed the last one I saw 4 times in the chest, and three in his eyes.

It was… how do I even begin describe it? It was an entire plethora of traumatic thoughts, feelings, and memories, all balled up into one night of hell. I felt nothing but just bitterness, pain, numbness, apathy, and anger all in my core. “I don’t really know how to feel.” I spoke again, just as blank as before.

Baker didn’t look at me in the eye. I don’t know if he was afraid, or if he was just empathetic enough to not say anything. I couldn’t tell. My eyes stung a little, but not enough to cry - much to my despair.

I was cut off of my lingering thoughts when I heard static emit from the box-shaped pack that Buckeye carried with him. Soon, garbled voices were heard through the speakers, of which I couldn’t interpret. Buckeye could though, as he shrugged off his pack and listened intently.

“Uh, Baker? I got reports of Enemy Armour activity going on in the Southern districts of the city. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s where we are.”

“Shit!” I heard Baker whisper under his breath. “Any idea what they are? We expecting Panzer IIs, or worse?”

“Dunno yet. Trying to figure that out.”

“Okay. Syringe, how’re you holding up?” Baker asked the medic - who I now recognized thanks to him saying her name.

She looked up to Baker with a pleading expression, then back down to a slumped over pony who looked as if he was in agony. He had a purplish-yellow colored coat that blended together. There was a gash on the left side of his head, where blood was rapidly gushing out of it despite the bandages wrapped around it. There were also several bruises, small incisions, and some bullet wounds on his torso as well. He was still breathing, yet still very much in pain. I didn’t recognize him.

“Um…” Syringe started but shut her muzzle as she looked down on the wounded pony again. His eyes were closed, but his chest was slowly rising and falling. “Well, everypony else can manage, but… he.” she stopped herself. Then trotted closer to Baker, her voice lowered in a dull mutter. “He’s lost too much blood. I did all I could, but there’s still internal bleeding. If I were a Unicorn instead of a Pegasus, maybe that could’ve been different. But…” she turned back to the incapacitated pegasus, still slumped over. “He’s not gonna last for much longer.” she finished with a tone more somber than professional.

Baker - the ever so serious and stoic Sergeant - gazed at the fatally wounded soldier with a look of pity. He trotted towards him with ease.

Baker then knelt down near him, and spoke with a tone of softness that I don’t really see in him that often. He tapped his shoulder, who opened his eyes wearily. He met Baker’s eyes, and grinned. A trail of blood was seeping out of his mouth.

“Hey.” was all he could speak, before being invaded by a coughing fit. More droplets of blood gleeked out. His grin disappeared. “That’s… lotta blood.”

“Yeah.” Baker softly replied - blank in tone, though benign in volume.

The might-as-well-be dead pony looked toward Baker. Then to each of us as we stared at him. He then sighed. “I’m gonna die, aren’t I?” he spoke with a weird and unfamiliar accent.

“I can have Syringe here give you morphine if you would like.” Baker offered. A useless but generous exchange.

“Nah, keep ‘em. You’ll need ‘em more than ah’ would.” He grunted as he pressed a hoof along his belly. He then grinned again. “Besides, nothin’ can kill me. You know that more than anyone, ol’ pal.”

Baker than scoffed playfully at his remark, in a sad irony. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re about the toughest son uva bitch I know, Plums.” I was shocked to hear that he knew his name. It dawned upon me at that moment that the two of them must’ve knew each other beforehand…

Plums gazed at the medic mare who attempted to save his life. She looked away at his gaze. “Thanks for tryin’, doc… appreciate the attempt.” he muttered optimistically, if not weakly. Syringe looked still and neutral in her demeanor. She trotted away, still not facing him.

“Sir, we need to keep moving.” Buckeye spoke aloud, interrupting all of our thoughts and grief. “The city hall is besieged as we speak. Allied infantry is preparing to storm it soon.”

Baker nodded at him, and looked back at Plums, whose eyes were still closed. Baker tapped his shoulder again, prompting him to open his eyes. “Plums, I need a favor. Where is your squad leader?”

“Dead. By that sidewalk over yonder.” He shakily pointed a hoof behind Baker, towards a street lamp with a dead brown coated pony slumped beside it.

“Boomer, pat him down. Find any kind of documents, maps, charts, or anything of the sort.”

“On it.” Boomer replied diligently as he rushed over towards the corpse.

“What was your squad trying to do before we found you?” Baker then turned to ask another wounded pony.

“We-” he was interrupted by a violent coughing fit from Plums, which spat out more droplets of crimson blood. “We were trying to make it to the Supermarket, set up a temporary FOB. Our p-plan was to e-establish a central hub for communication.” he stuttered.

“Not anymore. There are other squads trying to do the same thing. You’re coming with us. All of you.” Baker stood back up to announce, the remaining survivors listening intently. Then he stopped as he realized that not all of them are alive. Plums stopped moving. Nopony saw when he did. Baker trotted up to his body, and pulled a pair of dog tags from his neck. He stowed them away in his pockets.

Boomer sprinted back into view, holding in his teeth several different sheets of paper of different sizes. He spat them out on the ground. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Baker softly thanked Boomer, as he pondered at a map of Vanhoover. It was nothing like the special magical map I saw in the Ruby Mountains that I saw Razor Claw use. But instead, it was a paper atlas of the road systems in the city. The geometry of the city was shaped like a snowflake. There were roads that turned corners and cut around rows of buildings, but they were all connected to one of the main roads that sprawled outward from the center. There was a roundabout plaza in the center that had a large “+” Icon crudely drawn with a marker along it.

“There. That’s the city hall. It’s a large palace-like governmental building that stretches up for 4 stories. The length, if I remember my briefing correctly, is about 200 meters across. We’re going to help occupy the Southern wing, as well as the roof.”

I suddenly heard a new sound... The sound of an engine behind me. I turned to look, only to find nothing but open streets. There were columns of black smoke filling the sky from different areas of the city, each of them towering higher than the black spire in the sky near them.

As I was staring upward, I found where the engine noise was coming from. A line of Stukas were flying low and in a direction away from us, but also close enough where we could see them. They then opened fire on the ground they were aiming at below, their cannons ripping through the air like a dragon roaring. I heard a series of small firecracker-like explosions emit from the direction they were firing in.

When the cannons ceased firing, they then released their payload of bombs towards their target. Even bigger explosions were heard as the Stukas finished their bombing run. We all turned to eye the aircraft in fearful awe. They flew out of sight behind the skyline of buildings soon after.

“Those aircraft have been pounding the city nonstop. Isn’t there a way to get rid of them?” I heard Spade ask as he kept a watchful eye out in the direction where the tram car was.

“If we find any kind of AA Armament, be my guest.” Baker dismissed, as he still pondered at the map.

“I don’t see any flak towers from here.” I muttered as I twisted my head around, taking in the scenery. The city was lit up by the several columns of blazing fires that were seen everywhere in the city. The Overcast night was reflecting the light of these fires back down to the ground, making the sky looking almost apocalyptic in nature.

I turned back around to see Baker pull out a compass from his chest pocket, facing the black spire in the sky. Then he turned to the right of it, towards a cluster of buildings that were in our way. “That way. We head towards that direction, straight East from here, we’ll reach the Hall under an hour. By 10 minutes if we could fly there, but that’s too risky. Somepony will definitely get shot down if we try that, and we can’t afford that many casualties in this operation.”

“So, we walk?” Syringe asked after trotting back into view, avoiding to avert her gaze at the slumped over pony corpse. His eyes were closed, at least. The thought of a pony’s dead body staring into my soul disturbed me deeply and scarred me.

My mind flashed back to that alleyway.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to suppress those thoughts. “For now, yes.” Baker answered. “We link up with the other squads who are besieging the hall and assist in the final assault. Then, we can access the loudspeaker system in the city and try to get the enemy to surrender through the intercoms. It should be located in the Mayor’s office.”

“So what next, then?” Boomer inquired.

“We march forward. Like always. And we don’t stop fighting until we capture the City Hall. From there, we defend and establish a forward outpost. Drive the bugs from the city. Relay to high command our success, and wait for the cavalry to come.”

“I see someone.” Spade called out, as he gripped onto his Vickers gun. “Wait, nevermind. They’re ponies.” he paused. “I think. They could be disguised changelings, though.”

I trotted over toward him and saw what he was referring to. A group of ponies - about 6 or so - were trotting across the street near the decimated corpses of Changelings. They turned to look at the bodies and seemed to have winced at the sight of a visceral scene. They then turned towards us, as we aimed down at them.

“Come on. Give the signal. Don’t make me do this.” Spade quietly uttered to himself. One of the Pegasi down the street hovered in the air and made an ‘X’ with their front hooves. Spade breathed a sigh of relief.

“They’re friendly. Just passing through.” Spade said, as he did the same thing back to them. The group down the street gave an acknowledgment gesture and sprinted down to the left. They soon disappeared out of sight behind a building.

“How much ground have we covered in this city already?” I asked aloud, wondering how many passing groups of ponies we have encountered already.

“We’ve conquered the SouthWestern Harbor, as well as the shoreline around it. Half of the city is practically ours. We keep moving forward until all of it is ours again.”

“What about the civilians that could be trapped inside the buildings still? Enemy CAS planes are not trying to PID their targets.” Syringe then piped up, reminding me of the four ponies I saw inside the Condos that vanished earlier.

“Once we tap into the loudspeakers, we will urge them to remain indoors. If we capture all of the city, and reinforcements arrive, we then evacuate them by sea. Get them out as soon as possible.”

Syringe’s shoulders seemed to have slumped slightly as she sighed at those words, as if she was relieved to hear such a sound plan.

“We’re draining their time sitting here. We need to keep moving.” Spade spoke as he turned around to face us. “The longer we take to occupy the city, the longer these people will have to wait to suffer.”

“We’ve already occupied a good portion of the city with resounding results. We’ve taken casualties, but the enemy has as well - more than us. Success will come before the night is over, I reckon.” Baker reassured as we all began to gather our gear and belongings.

“Sunshine, fly ahead and see where the nearest main street is.” Baker ordered, snapping a hoof at me.

“Got it.” I replied as I took off. I flew ahead towards a wall of buildings that Baker pointed towards earlier when holding his compass. I found a series of circular arcs along the ground that curved toward the spire. They were poorly paved roads that looked as if it was unfinished. Probably was still under construction by the time the changelings attacked the first time. Which meant that the construction was postponed for at least 3 years.

I flew forward in that direction, gliding from rooftop to rooftop. The roads became cleaner and more paved as I kept following along. Eventually, it turned towards a brick-paved road that was wider and more packed with abandoned automobiles than the other side streets.

The main road had ponies galloping along it, trying to get to the same location as my squad was. They barked orders at one another as they kept galloping forward. I flew back towards Baker and the others, panting slightly.

“A 5-minute trot away in that direction you were pointing at. Ponies are there as well, trying to push towards the Hall.”

“Alright, very good.” He trotted beyond the ruined automobile we were huddled by. “Everypony, we’re moving out!”





The trek on the main street was… chaotic, at best.

Once we arrived at the street, the rapid gunfire that I kept hearing during my time in the city was becoming louder and more frequent. It also happened to be in the same direction we were trotting towards. From what I could gather, the assault on the City Hall had commenced without us. And it wasn’t going well, given the radio chatter that I heard from Buckeye’s pack.

There was also the aircraft harassing us. More than once, my squad was forced to sprint inside of an alleyway, or take refuge inside of a building. Each time a CAS plane swooped downward, they unleashed their bullets first. Then they dropped their payload if they had any left. Each time, I saw ponies barely able to avoid the onslaught from the air. Some ponies actually took off flying, trying to draw the attention of the planes to their way in hopes of distracting them.

Brave ponies, all of them. I couldn’t even kill a changeling without feeling petrified, let alone play chicken with a Stuka…

But that wasn’t what made the trip so chaotic. It definitely made it more perilous, but it was easier to avoid each time. We’ve adapted to their tactics and knew just how to avoid them. Even then though, sometimes it isn’t enough for some ponies to get out of the way. But there was something else that added an extra layer of Insanity to this battle.

When we finished ducking our heads down to avoid the Stuka, we continued our gallop across the street. We haven’t stopped running since we first arrived on the main streets. Hot coals were forming in my lungs as we ran nonstop.

We were about 15 minutes away from the Hall. My squad and I were following behind a growing crowd of ponies, rushing towards the objective we aimed to capture. The field hospital was behind us along the left side of the street, as we kept moving forward. Then we heard it. The sound of an engine.

At first, we all assumed it was another Stuka. But as we were just about to duck for cover, we noticed that there were no planes in the sky in the direction of the sound. Then, it made a ‘rumble’ noise so intense that it shook the ground and my body.

I didn’t just hear it. I felt it. And it was getting closer.

“Everypony get ready, it might be a Half-Track!” Baker yelled as we all split up into different directions. I was hiding behind an overturned wagon cart.

Half-Tracks from the Changeling Army had MG turrets installed on the front and rear end of the vehicle. The rule of fighting Half-Tracks - as it was so explicitly taught to me during basic training - was to not bunch up. If we spread out, we minimize the potential loss.

I knew it was a heavy-duty vehicle we were up against, but something felt… wrong. There was no way an engine that sounded and felt that heavy could be that of a Half-Track. I felt my bones vibrating and the ground trembling. Tiny pebbles were bouncing up and down on the ground near me.

The engine sound was coming from a small alleyway with a brick wall blocking off access. I could easily fly over, but why would I? With a vehicle on the other side, it was a dumb move to even consider getting across. The engine was getting louder.

Everypony had their weapons pointed towards the wall, waiting for it to break through and emerge on the other side at any second. The rumble of the engine kept getting closer and closer still, yet I could not see its shape.

Something in the back of my mind screamed at me to run. That this was a bad idea to hang around here any longer. I wasn’t sure whether to oblige, or to wait and see what happens. I held my breath as the engine got closer.

Then it stopped.

For a brief moment, there was quietness. Not total silence, but quiet enough for me to notice it. Everypony had their sights fixed on the small wall, aiming for whoever intends to run through. A few ponies slowly trotted towards the wall where the low rumble of an engine could be heard. It wasn’t moving. It was sitting there, waiting for something. The ponies began to hover over the wall slowly, to see what was happening.

Pa-BOOM!

The wall exploded. Literally exploded! I ducked down almost immediately in instinct when the explosion went off, with bits of broken brick and shrapnel flying over me and the wagon I was cowering behind. A wave of heat washed over me from the gap in the wall, and the air reeked of burnt sulfur. Sounds of screaming were heard from the wall, as several ponies were knocked backwards from the blast. I peeked over to find nothing but smoke and soot obscuring the remains of the wall. The engine sounded again, and with it emerged a shape. The cloud of dust and smoke parted, revealing…

... Not a Half-Track!

That is not a Half-Track

The shape that emerged on the other side was enormous and terrifying. It had a boxy chassis painted tan, with metallic plates covering the top-half of the treads on its sides. It also had a low cylinder-shaped turret with a long and thick barrel attached to the front of it, stretching out for about 12 feet. The tank rolled through the broken debris, and swiveled its turret to its right, aiming at me.

“RUN!!” I heard a mare’s voice cry out as my little legs ran as fast as they could away from the monstrosity. In hindsight, I should’ve just flew away from its reach, but I was panicking at that moment so the thought had never crossed my mind. I was terrified beyond any capacity of rational thought.

Brt-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at!

The coaxial MG located on the turret sounded off. I turned behind me to find several ponies being gunned down without a second thought. They were scrambling to get up off the ground after the blast knocked them back. They had no chance. Just like that, 5 ponies were killed.

I ran towards the end of the street where the others were at. I saw them take off and fly up to the roof. I followed after, landing on a roof crest where Baker, Syringe, and Boomer were. Spade was on the other side of the street, taking refuge inside a building.

“BOOMER, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!” I hear Baker yell loudly to my right, who I assumed was slightly deaf.

Boomer wasted no time to reply and instead got to work. I stared down and saw the hatch atop the turret open up, revealing a changeling in a special uniform peering up at us. He was shouting in their language and pointing at me whilst I readied my rifle to fire. Just as I could pull the trigger on him, he retreated back inside the hatch. The bullet ricocheted off of the armor.

The turret swiveled on its axis to the right of the chassis again, aiming at the building I saw Spade and the others take cover in.

Rat-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at Pa-BOOM!

While firing its MG, the turret’s large cannon ignited as well, spewing fire and smoke from its barrel. A large yellow tracer was seen flying through the air, milliseconds before it collided with the building. Soon after, the front entrance seemed to have completely disintegrated. Dust and smoke billowed out of the windows and the doorway as the building degraded from the impact. It groaned in exertion, threatening to collapse on its foundation.

Boomer was to my left quickly working on cocking the Thunderbolt, which was difficult to do on a pitched roof. The Tiger turned its chassis towards the ruined condo where Spade was, while turning its turret to the left. The MG gun from the chassis was firing at Spade’s building, while the MG on the Main Turret was firing down at the street, suppressing a group of infantry that were unfortunate enough to still be caught outside. They were huddled behind several different automobiles and piles of debris.

The guns stopped firing, and the tank turned towards the street. It then backed up slowly. Its turret was twisting in our direction as it reversed along the street. Then it aimed up. At us.

I felt my eyes widen, while Baker screamed, “GO! GET OFF THE-”

Pa-BOOM!

My world erupted in blinding light, searing pain tearing through my everything. The sensory overload eradicated my perception of reality for a short while. I  slightly regained my senses just in time to see me falling off of the roof, and landing inside another squared alleyway behind the building I was just on. I crashed and tumbled onto the ground, feeling the bones in my wings break and snap from the impact. Fiery tendrils of pain wracked my back. My hearing was filled with a sound that made it seem like I was underwater. There was also ringing.

In an instant, I passed out.





I awoke to find myself lying on paved concrete. Probably the same spot I crashed upon. I felt tears flowing freely down my cheeks as my body was in agonizing shock. It was very strange, almost like an out-of-body experience. I felt my limbs and my torso were hurt, but no pain came yet. It was just a tingling numbing sensation felt all over me. I also struggled to breathe, as the air was still knocked out of me.

After numerous coughing fits and gasping attempts to catch my breath, my body was then invaded with an excruciating pain that was so intense it fogged my sense of reality - to the point that I was seeing double vision on everything. My mind was racing as to what I just encountered, which I didn’t even remember at the time.

I looked to my right while I lay still on the ground, and saw Boomer’s corpse to my right not moving. His Thunderbolt was clattered on the ground next to him. His back was facing me, as I saw several deep gashes decorate his backside. Blood was pouring out profusely.

Baker was lying to my left, sprawled out on his back. He had several burn marks on his legs and torso, and some avulsions on his ribcage. I could see inside him as his entrails were outside of his wound. He was shaking violently and breathing quickly without rhythm. I felt my stomach painfully twist into knots, as I felt the sudden urge to throw up. Leaning over to my side was agonizingly painful, but I did it and released the contents of my stomach.

Laying on my side, I attempted to stand. My hooves felt completely numb, but I could feel the bones in them still intact. I was shaking heavily but was also standing. My head felt like a heavy blade was piercing through it repeatedly. I patted it softly, feeling so such injuries. I must have a migraine. It made my vision swim, with tears pouring out of my eyes. I felt myself scream out in pain, yet heard nothing but constant ringing. It was a very out-of-body experience, not being able to hear your voice like that. I felt a surge of panic shooting through my erratic heart.

Shaking, I took a step forward, then fell down again as I felt my back was on fire! I turned behind me, and saw my wings - if you could even call them that anymore. Each feathery tertial I had was bending in different directions, and all of them were wrong! I couldn’t help but feel a vine tighten its grip around my heart at the sight of my broken wings.

I attempted to stand back up again, except I couldn’t I was in way too much pain, and my body was completely devoid of energy. As tears flow freely through my exhausted eyes, I collapsed back down on the pavement again.

I noticed I had burns all over my flanks and my legs, with some large avulsions on my back - just below the wings. The wings themselves didn’t even look like wings. Each bone, every Tetrial, every Feather; they all looked wrong! I couldn’t even feel them.

The pain from my back felt agonizing enough, though. I collapsed my head along the ground. I saw nothing. At that moment, I wondered if this was where I would die. It sure felt certain to happen. I didn’t even have the energy to be sad about it. I was just slowly dying on the inside, with no reaction.

That was when I heard hoofsteps somewhere nearby, running toward me. My shell shocked state deprived me of any cognitive function for the moment, so I couldn’t tell which direction it came from. I then felt as something was dragging me backward towards the building I was atop of, which made me scream out. Yet as I did, I couldn’t even hear my own voice. I looked above me to see the roof was on fire with a pitch-black smoke that billowed high to the sky, where we just were. I was laid against a wall, facing away it. I didn’t know who was dragging me, or why. Actually, I didn’t know anything for a brief moment, making me think I could have amnesia.

I then felt a pinprick jab against my lower back, followed by a numbing coolness that soothed the burning sensation from the large incisions on my back. Then I felt a hoof drag along my wings. Strangely and scarily enough, I could feel the pressure of their hooves, but couldn’t feel anything in my wings. Not even pain. Just a still, tingling. And that was not a good kind of numbness either.

There was another pinprick, as I felt cold lethargy envelope my torso. I was feeling tingly all over my hind legs all of the sudden, as well as my withers. Tears were still flowing freely, but the pain was not as agonizing as before. I still couldn’t feel my wings.

“Sunshine, are you alive?” I heard a mare’s voice speak to me, barely audible through the ringing noise. I gave a weak nod as I groaned and sobbed lightly. She started to grab my wings, then twist them slightly. I felt my bones being moved around, yet I still felt nothing. I gave a whimper, yet I still couldn’t hear myself.

Snap! Crack!

I felt THAT! An overwhelming sensation of fiery pain licked my back as I screamed again. She kept doing that multiple times, until my right wing felt like it was caught afire. Then she grabbed the left wing, and twisted it as well.

Snap! Pop!

More agonizing burns were felt, and more screams were heard. I twisted my body and tried to kick away. That only achieved more tendrils of agony coursing along my flanks and legs. I couldn’t move very well, and my vision was blurry. My hearing was returning to me, but that ringing was still apparent. I felt like a jackhammer was repeatedly piercing my skull.

I then felt some sort of cloth wrap around my wings as they were tucked back into my sides, locking them into place. I heard and felt my uniform being ripped open in some areas by someone biting and tearing them open, revealing more darkened splotchy spots on my coat hiding bruised skin. A white cloth was being wrapped around my torso. In some spots, the Bandages were tinted with a dark crimson pigment leaking through some of the small holes that littered it. Blood had been pouring out excessively.

Some kind of liquid was also poured along my flanks, hind legs, and back - cold to the touch while feeling it’s burning my skin off at the same time. I screamed aloud once more, able to hear me a little better this time. I then felt more bandages being wrapped around my flanks and hind legs, inflicting more tendrils of pain in my legs.

I don’t know why I did it, but I reached my hoof out toward the mare who was helping me. I felt her cheek brush against it as she continued to work. I turned my head to look, finding Syringe kneeling over me looking more determined than ever before. The grey coated with an even darker grey Mane was working furiously fast.

“Where else do you feel pain, Sunshine?” she asked me loudly, yet gently.

“E... E-everything hurts.” I grunted softly, still crying. I then saw Baker and Boomer still lying down on the ground, neither of them moving. I reached out a hoof toward Baker, weak and exhausted. Syringe pushed it away, pulling it closer to me.

“Save your energy. You’re barely alive as it is.” she soothed to me as she continued to wrap bandages around my body. She already used so much on my wings, and she was still using more. I felt like I was being turned into a mummy. Fitting, since I’m almost dead anyway.

“Th… them.” I muttered weakly while reaching out toward Boomer and Baker again.

“They’re dead. There’s nothing I can do.” she answered bitterly, planting my hoof down again.

I felt my heart sink further down at those words. Baker, while not particularly close to me, was the only one in our group who know what to say, and what to do. Without him, I felt… I don’t know. Lost, I guess? And Boomer... I just felt bad for him in general. He didn’t deserve this.

Nopony did.

“Can you walk?” I heard her ask me, barely audible as another cannon shot was heard from somewhere nearby. It sounded familiar. I then remembered that there was a Tank, before everything went foggy. The echo reverb could be heard through the walls of buildings I was laying next to.

I shook my head in response to her question, as I had failed to do walk a minute ago. “Then stay here. Keep applying pressure on those bandages, where the pain is. I’ll be back.” She assured me, then took off with her wings. For a split moment - in my shell shocked state - I had forgotten that she was a Pegasus and not an Earth Pony. It startled me when she took off, even though it was rather foolish to think such a thing.

I did as she told, and pressed down against my right flank. I felt something squishy and softer than my coat and skin underneath the bandages. I was scared as to what I would find, but curiosity got the better of me. I lifted the bandages.

My Cutie Mark… it was originally a sunrise over a morning cloud, spewing rays of light out in every direction. Now it looked marred, and burnt. There was skin ripped off of where the cloud should be. The splotch looked light crimson, with a dash of black and pink. My throat tightened to the diameter of a straw at the sight of my deformed mark. I choked another sob. I looked at the corpses of Boomer and Baker, and cried even more.

I spent 5 minutes sobbing and putting pressure on my burn wounds. They stung like how a dozen angry hornets would if they were to focus on one spot, but the morphine was making it bearable. More machine gun fire was heard from beyond the buildings, and the engine sounded once again. My hearing had returned to me, but a slight ringing was still audible. Large explosions were heard as the engine was becoming more and more distant. It was driving away.

Syringe returned as she floated down in front of me again, holding in her mouth the strap of another medical bag. “Haf thoo - ptoo - scavenge off the others.” she spoke as she spat it onto the ground. She poured the contents out, revealing a whole collection of medical-related items that I couldn’t make heads or tails of. She pulled out a potion with a paper stuck to the middle of it, a pink heart drawn on it. It had a vibrant green liquid inside of it. “Drink.” she ordered as she popped the cork.

I greedily consumed its contents. It tasted bland and flavorless, but not revolting as I had initially expected. I felt a strange warmth travel through my body as I felt my muscles, my bones, and my skin mend from the damage I had sustained. My head also felt cool and drowsy. I felt it in my wings too, but not as noticeable as throughout the rest of my body. Soon, the bones in my wings were mending as well. I breathed a slow sigh of relief. I felt better. Not in tip-top shape, but better than before.

I stared down at my cutie mark bandages again, and peeked it over. The marred skin looked somewhat mended, but I could tell that there was going to be a scar there a patch of rough skin with a mangled coat.

“Now can you try to walk?” Syringe asked benignly. She helped me to my hooves as I tried to stand up. I felt pain, but not intensely as before. The tears in my eyes were finally drying up. I gingerly a step forward. Then another.  And another. Then I tried to trot at a quicker pace. I stumbled a little when I felt a jolt through my spinal cord, but still remained standing.

“Okay, you can move again at least. That’s good. Do you remember your name?” she asked me.

“S-Sunshine.” I replied.

“Good. And what’s mine?”

“Syringe.”

“Good.” she flew upward again, peeking over the fire on the roof where I was just at. Then flew back down. “The Tiger is gone. We need to find a place to rendezvous with other ponies and continue our mission.”

I blinked. “Our mission? Our squad nearly got wiped out, and you’re focused on the mission?!”

“No. Personally, I’d rather just go home. But we can’t do that now.” she turned away, looking at Baker. “Right now, we have nopony leading us through this hellhole we found ourselves in. And we can’t just go AWOL, so we have to improvise.”

My thoughts trailed back to the street with the Tram Car, how we merged remnants of Plums’ squad into ours. “Maybe we could do what Baker did earlier, and find a squad to fall in?”

“We could, yes. But that takes time. And we don’t have a lot of time. And I don’t know where we are gonna find a mostly vacant squad to fill in, when it’s just the two of us.”

Just the two of us. “Wait, what about Spade and the others? In that building that they ran into?”

“You don’t want to go in there. They were eviscerated by that 88 Mil. It’s just us two that’s left.”

As I thought the hole in my chest couldn’t get any deeper, I felt my heart sink even further down at those words. We were the last survivors of this squad. Goddesses. What can we do?

Syringe shook her head quickly, as if she was suppressing negative thoughts. She turned to look at me. “Look, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we have to keep going. Regroup with other ponies, explain our situation to them, and follow their lead. That’s the best I can come up with.”

I sat up on my haunches slumped against a wall, holding my rifle in between my hooves. The air was pervaded of sulfur, gunpowder, and burnt plywood. Gunfire and sirens were heard everywhere, as well as numerous explosions scattered around us. One of which sounded particularly close to the direction where the tank fled to.

“Unless you have a better idea. That’s all I got.” Syringe added on.

I sighed, feeling the effects of morphine taking hold of me. My hooves tingled. I felt unpleasant goosebumps racking my body. I stared up to the sky, lost in thought. The cloud layer remained flat and blank throughout the entire evening, without the ominous threat of rain. I couldn’t see the Hive towering upward, as it was beyond the building I was slumped against. Aircraft flew in all directions, and none of them were friendly.

I stood up on my hooves, slowly and painfully. I could walk at least, running and flying were far beyond my capabilities as of now. “No, that sounds like a solid plan. I just don’t know where to start.” I answered Syringe while eyeing Boomer’s body. Neither he nor Baker moved.

“I don’t either. ‘Till we can find one to help us, we just keep walking.” Syringe suggested as she stood up as well. We both walked over to the bodies that laid next to us and scavenged what we could off of them. I now had 2 smoke grenades, and 1 more fragmentation. I also picked up a couple of stripper clips of ammo for myself as well. I wasn’t running low on that anytime soon.

“We’ll take this door leading to the street. If we find that Tiger before we find anypony else, we hide and take cover. Let’s hope that won’t happen, though.” Syringe took a door leading into one of the ruined condos. I followed.





We contemplated for a short while whether or not to follow down the path we were just headed before the Tiger showed up. There were still small groups of ponies galloping across the streets, stepping over the numerous bodies of other fallen soldiers as they made their way towards the City Hall. The groups of ponies I saw were becoming noticeably smaller. The casualties were starting to take a toll on us all.

It was decided that we would take a different and less populated route towards the City Hall. The gap in the brick alley wall where the Tiger shot through was a good start. When we crossed the street, I got a good view of Spade’s building. There was a fire that erupted in the first floor that was slowly spreading toward the second floor. Soon, the fire would burn down the whole building; and maybe more around it.

We trekked down that alley, and navigated our way through several ruined condos. (One of the Condos had the walls on the first floor completely gone. There was a gaping hole through the front entrance that led through the back. We learned that was where the Tiger came from originally.)

Rapid gunfire could be heard from beyond several different groups of buildings. The combat ensuing there was intense. Syringe wanted to fly ahead to see what the commotion was all about, but I persuaded her otherwise when I mentioned that we’re alone and that losing her would be bad for all around. We trudged along with exertion.

We were randomly walking through another ruined Condo that leads to another square mini-park out back that this city seemed to be abundant of. We then heard an explosion go off in front of us, It felt and sounded like a Grenade. Moments later, more gunfire was emitting from the mini-park outside.

The door crashed open, revealing three battle-worn ponies as they rushed inside to shield themselves from the gunfire. They took notice of our presence, and one of them aimed a rifle at us. “Signal?” he spoke through gritted teeth.

I was dumbfounded. In my mentally damaged state, the only thing I could say in response was “uh…” Thankfully, Syringe was competent enough to say something first.

“Nudum Colorum.” she answered in a different language, earning a slump on the shoulders from the rifle pony, as the other two were galloping upstairs to set up defensive positions.

“Why are there only two of you?” the rifle pony asked us.

“We’re the last survivors of our team. We were just ambushed by a Tiger not too long ago.” Syringe spoke for me. She gave me a look hinting about how I wasn’t able to answer clearly in time. My ears drooped.

The rifle pony shot us a look that seemed pitiful and apologetic. Then he shook his head, as he crouched below a window. “Changelings threw a grenade in the park, killing two of our guys. We dunno where they are, all we know is that they are somewhere around or in this park.”

“We’re looking for the City Hall. That was our Objective before we were ambushed.” Syringe spoke again. I decided to let Syringe do the talking. The Morphine’s numbing effect was still taking ahold of me. I was also mentally fried beyond any level of rational thinking. I could aim, shoot, reload, and not die, but that’s about it.

“Head NorthWest, I think the bearing is 311 from here. If you keep going that direction, you’ll find it eventually. Don’t take my word for it, though.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Our orders were to round up and secure any civilians we may find to a safe location. We got a small FOB set up just a 10-minute trot from here towards City Hall. So far, we found none. The whole city seems to be abandoned.”

“I see that bastard!” I heard another voice call out from above. “He’s accompanied by three others, heading towards the Park!” A rifle shot rang out. Soon, the whole building was firing on them. Gunfire surrounded my ears again, as the rifle pony in front of us dashed toward a vacant window.

“We need to leave, now.” Syringe suggested as she pulled my tail toward the door.

“We’re not helping?” I asked, ponies firing away upstairs.

“They aren’t heading to where we are, we have to keep moving and avoid confrontation until we merge. And we know that they have a FOB set up. If we are ever gonna merge, its gotta be there.”

I wanted to protest, to help out the others. But Syringe’s logic ultimately made sense. We had no strength in numbers as of now, and we weren’t fit to be in an engagement. The other ponies can run back to the FOB if they wish to disengage the Changelings. It wasn’t technically our problem.

“Okay, let’s go.” I spoke, and we were off again. I ran through the front entrance, back out into the street as gunfire was heard behind me.





Syringe pulled out her compass as we made it to the street, finding the bearing that pony was talking about. 311, I think he said it was. When Syringe acquired the direction - which was on the other side of a building corner across the street - she picked up the pace as I followed behind. More and more Pony Soldiers were seen traveling through the city from the West to the East. The NorthWestern seawall was now occupied under our control, as well as the SouthWestern harbor. I heard it as I trotted passed a lounging soldier, guarding one of the occupied strong points. Each critical intersection we crossed that was closer to Downtown seemed to be more and more populated by ponies. They each gave us a disguise check as we passed through each checkpoint.

Me and Syringe galloped for about 10 minutes in different streets, sidewalks, alleyways, and strong points as we got closer to the sounds of heavy combat. It was ensuing to where we were going, the condition of the buildings around us becoming more and more deteriorated. There were multiple Condos which I passed by that were completely flattened. Nothing but a large pile of rocks and rubble on where the first floor was.

We were trekking along with another discreet alleyway trotting next to the ruined building. Me and Syringe were crossing a corner of a large street leading off from the alleyway we were in when we stopped at the sight of a large group of Pony soldiers as we turned the corner. They were loitering around a series of sandbags and crude roadblocks to the left along the street. They were made with gathered up debris and leftover stone to form a barricade. Another one just like it were found to our right, facing the other direction of the street.

Small tents and trenches were found littering the middle of the street in no particular order, both of them filled with ponies walking fro and back in them. About 50, maybe 80 Ponies were standing here. A single 50Kg Bomb from a Stuka could wipe us all out. Why were they all just bunching up together like this?

One of the ponies took notice of us and shouted at us thinking we could be disguised Changelings. Syringe only managed to spare us by shouting the code phrase over and over, dissuading the rest from opening fire upon us.

Emerging from one of the tents was a gray coated pegasus in a uniform that looked too official to be a soldiers uniform. He had a dirty blonde mane and tail, with a cutie mark of what looked like a quill and a piece of paper. A single Bat-Wing was embroidered in blue on the shoulder pad of his uniform, surrounded by a circle of red stitches. He stopped and looked at us, scanning me and Syringe with careful and vigilant eyes. “What the hell happened to the rest of you guys?” He asked us bluntly, in a snarky tone.

“Dead. We’re the last survivors.” Syringe answered. The officer winced.

“So it’s just you two?”

“That’s what she said.” I replied.

“Okay. Two is better than nothing.” he contemplated aloud while stroking his chin. “Is she injured?” he pointed a hoof at me, acknowledging the bandages that enveloped my entire torso and part of my flanks. “She looks like hell.”

“Thanks.” I bitterly said.

“Not gravely. I gave her a rejuvenation potion.” Syringe answered afterward.

“She was blown up?”

“Sort of. Tiger ambush. 88’ nearly blew her to bits. Can’t say the same for the others, though.”

“Which division are you from?”

“Umm…” Syringe hesitated.

Luckily for her, I knew the answer. “Cloudsdale, Second Pegasi Division, 7th Batallion, H Company,” I answered abruptly.

“Huh... Then I guess I’m your Company Commander.” he explained, as he pointed toward the patch on his uniform. “That’s good, that makes my job a hell of a lot easier. Who was your Sergeant?”

“Baker.”

He winced again. “Baker’s gone too? Damn. We’re losing a lot of good ponies for this city.” He muttered.

“What’s happening around here?” I asked as I took in the scene in front of me: Several ponies were laying atop of mats inside the tents, each of them covered in white bandages and red liquid. There were ponies with rifles aimed at the streets away from us, keeping an ever-vigilant eye out for any intruders. The trenches were crudely made, as they had to break apart through the street pavement before they started digging. There were no Earth Pony Sappers around to help us as well, meaning that the process took longer than normal. The sandbags and roadblocks covered the entire street, but left room on the sidewalks for ponies to trot around.

Overall, it was a grim sight.

“We’re planning our next assault on the City Hall.”

Syringe’s ears straightened up at him saying ‘City Hall’. “You’re going after City Hall?”

“That’s literally what I just said.” He replied wryly.

“This must be the FOB I heard ponies talk about, then. We’re trying to find a squad to merge with; Someone - anyone - to tell us what to do next. We’ve been wandering alone for about half an hour or so.”

The officer looked at me and Syringe skeptically. He turned to look toward the street to my left. “I got my hooves full at the moment, trying to conduct our next move. I can’t assign you to anyone yet. For now, though, you can stay and assume defensive positions.” He turned to walk back into the tent before he stopped and faced us again. “By the way, my name is Lieutenant Scribe. I’m the highest-ranking Commanding Officer in this shithole. Don’t bother me unless it’s something absolutely urgent.” he finished before trotting back inside.

Me and Syringe gazed around at the small camp in front of us, and we both trotted in one direction. I found myself sitting down on my haunches, with my rifle leaning along the sandbag wall I was sitting against. My back was resting against the sandbags, as I breathed a heavy sigh. Syringe sat next to me, staring at the ground. We both stayed there for a short while.

Several different ponies were up and about around us, trotting from one location to another - talking to other ponies while doing so. The ones that weren’t moving were busy aiming their rifles in one direction, standing guard. There were also the ones who laid inside the tents. I wondered how uncomfortable it must be to lay on a stone-paved road like that, even with a mat underneath. They must be wounded, it’s the only logical explanation to why anyone would be lying there.

“How are your wings?” Syringe asked quietly.

I gazed at them and tried to extend them. Sharp pain enveloped the exoskeleton, making me wince. “Still can’t fly.” I muttered. “But at lEast they look like wings again.”

“You’re welcome.” She replied. I turned to look toward her, finding her staring off into the distance. She didn’t move or speak, all she did was stare.

“You okay?” I asked feebly, leaning forward a little to get a better look at her face. She was still. She was breathing steadily and slowly, yet she looked as if she was about to have a panic attack.

“I…” she stopped herself, placing both of her hooves on the sides of her temples. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?” I asked. - Stupid! If she can’t stop thinking about it, why ask her about it?

“About what I saw, in that room. With Spade.” Now I could see her shudder. She took a shaky breath in and exhaled it quickly.

“Aren’t you used to it, though?” I asked, which prompted me to facehoof immediately afterward. - Stop making it worse, Fuck!

“Not used to what I saw in there. I’m just glad you didn’t see it.”

Me too - I thought to myself, finally keeping my big mouth shut. I caught her staring at my ruined uniform, revealing part of my coat - some of which were heavily bandaged. I looked as silly as a filly who horribly attempted to dress up as a mummy soldier pony during Nightmare Night.

“Your wounds still hurt?” she asked me empathetically, despite her deadpan tone of voice.

“Yeah, but I’ll manage. I can only ignore it for now.” I lied. The pain stung badly, but the last thing I wanted on my conscious was for her to care for me again after all she’s done for me. I can’t let her waste any more precious supplies on a single might-as-well-be-dead pony like me.

“I think we might find a squad to fill in here. It might not be official until Scribe gets the go-ahead from someone higher up, but it’ll work for now.” Syringe noted to herself aloud, mumbling while doing so. “Your wings should be fine in less than an hour, and you should be able to perform basic hovering soon.”

I didn’t bother to reply. My mind felt foggy and dazed, as I stared into space. I eyed the slim walls of the various Architectures that existed in these buildings around me. Plastered upon one of the blank and ruined walls of the Condos to my right was colorful paper. I glanced closer at it, and saw that it was a Propaganda Poster. It was a black and Tannish-Orange Filtered Poster, with a Silhouette of Queen Chrysalis’s head peeking over a small wall. Her whole face was darkened black, except for her eyes - which had green Cat-Eye Irises.

There were captions on the wall below her head. It read, in bold Letters:




SHE’S WATCHING YOU!




Wartime Propaganda was one of the many things that the Equestrian Governments did in an attempt to increase public support for the War Effort. It provided mixed results; during my time in limbo on board the ships in the Lunar Ocean - just days before tonight - I overheard a conversation among the other pegasi soldiers how the media censored many of the horrors of war, in an effort to “Maintain Harmony”. The only thing I remembered from that Conversation was how one of the soldiers sarcastically remarked how there’s no harmony left now.

Looking around me in this war torn city, with sirens playing in the background; Bombs being dropped all over the city; Gunfire heard from my surroundings; I sort of agreed with that Smartass Buck.

I kept gazing around me, and found another Propaganda Poster plastered upon a wall to my left. I looked below my peripheral, and found Syringe to be sitting in a slouched position, completely still except for her chest - which rose and fell up and down slowly. She appeared to be asleep. I found myself admiring how fast she passed out despite what happened around us.

I stood up and slowly walked over to the wall, wincing from each step I took on my right hind leg. As I got closer, I could make out the poster more clearly; Queen Chrysalis, again, is standing in front of a filing cabinet, with an evil look in her eyes. Her horn is illuminated, and in her Telekinetic Grasp is the Element of Magic - in its crown form. The captions read:




ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT


CHANGELING ESPIONAGE


----------------------------------
Report to the nearest Royal Guard if you think anypony is acting Suspicious!




Focusing on the mural, I began to wonder just how terrifying it would be if the Changelings did manage to get a hold on the Elements of Harmony. The results could be Catastrophic. 6 Elements of unparalleled power in the hooves of somepony who could use them for ill-intentions? The very thought of such a possibility terrified me.

Maybe that was the intention for these Propaganda Posters. To fear your enemy? Or maybe to hate them? But then, are Ponies capable of explicitly hating others like so? To completely discriminate an entire species?

Again, I found myself gazing at the scene around me, in this war-torn city. I struggled to think of a convincing answer.





It didn’t take long before me and Syringe were called to the tent where scribe was. As we both trotted through the tent flaps, I was greeted to the sight of Scribe and another pony wielding a staff in one hoof, looking at me with grim expressions. Scribe huddled around a table with various papers and small maps scattered about the table surface. I couldn’t interpret all of it, except for one particular map. It looked like a street map for the city of Vanhoover. Scribe looked up at me and Syringe from the table.

“Just a precautionary measure. Hold still, please.” Scribe ordered, as the pony with the staff took a step forward. He lowered the staff over our heads, as the crystal that was embedded at the tip of the staff began to glow and hum. It then changed from a dull grey, to a vibrant green. As it changed color, I noticed that Scribe’s shoulders sagged a little.

“Okay, they’re legit. We don’t have to worry about that anymore. Now, onto the second problem; what to do with you two.”

Scribe walked around me and Syringe slowly, methodically. He scanned us top to bottom, staring at us with a keen look in his eyes. When he trotted behind me, my tail instinctively lowered down making me feel flustered. An old habit I could never break out of. “Normally when I get stragglers like you, I would assign them to a squad to fall in, and move on. But we’re running low on medics as it is, and it’s actually useful that you two happened to just waltz in on us like that.”

“I’m not a medic.” I butted in before Scribe could continue. “I’m just a rifle-pony.”

“Anypony is useful as long as they can shoot and stand up straight.” Scribe replied.

“You said you were running low on medics. Do you need my assistance?” Syringe piped up as she stood upright.

“Nothing you can do any better then what we already have. I have several wounded ponies here who are not fit for combat, and I can’t just leave them here when the assault begins. So, for you two, I have a special task for you to complete.”

Me and Syringe listened closely, as Scribe continued to talk. “I have about 80-something ponies here in this little shitfest of a camp we made from scratch, and 10 of those ponies can’t even stand up straight without help - let alone fend off an attack. I need a certain amount of ponies to stay here and keep guard at all times, until I say so. You two are gonna be merging with one other squad and will stay here to defend this position. The rest of us will follow my lead during the push to City Hall.”

That didn’t sound like a special task to me...

“You two will file in with Brass Screws and her squad. She’s missing a medic anyway, so it’s perfect for her. Your task is to defend this position and await further orders. If we do manage to take the City Hall in our absence, we will let you know via loudspeakers.”

“Will we be able to hear it?” I asked over the constant noise of passing conversations that were going on outside of our tent.

“There are speakers all over the city. You should be able to pick up on it, if the time comes. Don’t count on it though. I’m not sure if this plan will succeed.”

“Shall I take a look at the wounded while I’m here?” Syringe inquired.

“If you can find out what’s wrong with them, and fix whatever is causing it, then be my guest. Several others have tried, and proved it to be for naught.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” she answered, still standing in the same spot.

“Alright then, you know what to do. I’ll let everyone know when the assault comes. Dismissed.”





I spent the next hour or so lounging around the small camp, moving from one sandbag wall to another. There were two directions that had access to the camp. Both of which were empty streets. To the sides of the streets, there was a single alleyway entrance where me and Syringe came from, and that was being heavily guarded to ensure our flanks were secured.

As I waited and waited, black columns of smoke were seen billowing upward above the skyline. There weren’t as many Stukas in the skies as there were before. Probably heading back to base for resupply, or something. Explosions were still heard from all over the city, though. And to add on to the encounter I had with the Tiger, I overheard a radio conversation from one of the ponies wearing a radio pack that there was a Stug III sighted in the city. The Changelings had Armour and Aircraft at their disposal, hundreds of miles away from the frontlines, on the one day we decided to come here.

A part of me felt like they knew we were coming. I found myself staring at the Propaganda Poster again.




SHE’S WATCHING YOU!




I shuddered and shook my head. Changeling Espionage. The possibility of them expecting us to come here to Vanhoover seemed more likely the more I thought about it. How there seemed to be no pony civilians left in this city when we attacked as if they were taken away; how the spotlights were already on and searching for us before we arrived in the air; how there was armored support for the Changelings chosen especially to combat us. The whole situation seemed so coincidental it was uncanny, and I still didn’t know everything about it.

I suddenly found myself yearning to know, to figure out and comprehend the problem in a foolish attempt to solve it. I found no such luck. I was stuck here, in this tiny camp, possibly waiting for me to die when I least expect it.

As I continued to wait, more and more ponies began to show up from different random directions. Each encounter was the same; A pony would call out to the others what the passcode was, to which they would either reply correctly or incorrectly. If correctly, they would take them in and access the situation in their perspective, and assign them new orders. If incorrectly, they shoot.

One encounter we had almost proved to be fatal, as a lone disguised changeling nearly got through our sandbag line. Before he could cross though, the pony with the staff trotted toward him. The crystal blinked and was tinted red before it even got close to him. It made a ‘beep beep’ sound when it changed colors, and all guns were aimed at the pony. The changeling realized the gig was up - shifting his disguise to its original form, and attempted to fly away. It didn’t even make it 5 feet without falling.

But other than that, things have been relatively quiet. And once again, I found myself lounging in the middle of a warzone. I was hunched up against a sandbag wall, sitting next to a Bronze coated Mare who mounted a Vickers MG, aiming ahead towards one of the streets. At the time, my mind was wandering. I was thinking about small, idle things to help pass the time; remembering Hayburgers, naps on a cloud, reading a book, things like that.

“Hey, you ever wonder why we haven’t found anypony else in these buildings?” the Mare with the Machine Gun inquired, as my thoughts were interrupted.

“Do wha’?” I replied as I turned to look at him, unsure if she was talking to me. Turns out she was, as her eyes locked onto me.

“I said ‘you ever wonder why we haven’t found anypony in these buildings’? I mean this place is a city, right? What happened to all of the other ponies?” she asked again. Her question repeated in my head over and over again for a little while. She had a point, though. The more I thought about it, the more strange it seemed. I also remembered seeing the small group of ponies huddling around a junk fire, when I was inside of one of the more broken Condos. I couldn’t remember which. I saw nopony else afterward. It did seem odd. It looked as if they had vanished out of thin air.

“I dunno.” I finally answered the Mare. “I saw a few of them earlier tonight, but that’s it. It does feel weird, though.”

“Right? It feels like a ghost town.” she agreed with me, as she returned her gaze back toward the street. She opened her mouth as if to speak again.

PKOW!

The Mare was then brutally interrupted when a tracer flew right by and shot the Mare below the neck. She tumbled backward and fell in heap, still wriggling in pain as he clutched her upper chest. Another tracer flew by, then several more. Sporadic gunfire was heard from the end of the street.

“Contact! Down the Street!” I heard a pony yell as loud as he could while I laid low. Rifle slung around my body and clambering upon the ground, I crawled my way toward the fallen Mare and away from the gunfire. She reached a hoof toward me. I located the bullet wound she had and placed her extended hoof along the hole. She was coughing and struggling to breathe, panic flooding her facial features.

I was by no means a medic. I only had a basic understanding of the medical procedure. Stop the bleeding, treat the wound, calm the patient. And I wasn’t sure if she was gonna even make it. But something screamed in my head to at least try! “You’re gonna be okay, just keep putting pressure on it.” I instructed her as she stared right at me.

I could see the fear in her eyes. Other ponies filed in to assist us by dragging her away from the MG, which was still mounted on the sandbag wall. “We got this, go! Shoot back!” they ordered me, as I got to work. I readied my gun and crawled my way back to the sandbag wall.

“Stay low, they’ve spotted us!” I heard Scribe yell. “Assume defensive positions and fight back!”

Everypony was either shooting back or ducking for cover. I saw Syringe gallop outside of the tent to find out what was going on, only to be nearly killed by a tracer flying just inches to the side of her face. She ducked down almost instantaneously. “What’s going on?” she yelled at me.

“We’re under attack! They know we’re here!” I yelled back. “There’s a Mare who’s wounded back there! Find her!” I yelled again toward Syringe. She gave a nod, as she crawled away from me.  as I crawled around the corner of my sandbag, I aligned my rifle up along the street, I could see the infantry lining up all along the street, aiming their guns and firing at us. Some of them were huddling behind a pile of stone and debris near the sidewalk, others were standing in the open in the middle of the street. I took aim.

PKOW!

I fired a missed shot and cocked the bolt. I fired again at another one in the middle of the street. The shot connected to his rifle, which was knocked out of his grasp. He stumbled backward to retrieve it, only to receive another bullet to the chest. He fell with a heap and started to roll over side-to-side on the ground. He appeared to be in agony.

“We need MG support, now! Throw smoke on that street and start spraying!” I heard Scribe yell over the chaos. Ponies were yelling and calling out orders as they continued to shoot back. I saw one tan tinted stallion throw a smoke grenade in between us and the Changelings, as he rushed to operate the Machine Gun. He took a moment to scavenge the magazines for the MG that had fallen off of the fallen Bronze Mare while waiting for the smoke to settle in and disperse. Afterward, he started to spray away through the hazy cloud of white vapor. He fired in 5-shot bursts, wanting to conserve ammo.

“Squad, on me! Get inside and find a window!” A pony I didn’t recognize called out. He, along with several others, rushed forward along the sidewalk towards one of the In-Row houses that littered the area around us. They filed into the building one by one, as the smoke started to dissipate.

Gunfire erupted even louder once again when we could see Changelings charging forward from the smoke, en masse. “They’re advancing!” I heard a mare cry out, as the Changelings fired automatic weaponry at us. I ducked back behind the Sandbag and watched as some ponies were killed in the onslaught. My heart pounded violently in my chest again, as I struggled to determine my next action. I was caught in a crossfire between the two groups, and I couldn’t move. I waited in hoof-pounding terror as the automatic gunfire was rapidly getting closer.

A stick-shaped object all of the sudden landed next to me. In less than a second, I realized that it was a grenade thrown at me! Out of pure instinct and compulsion, I dove toward the grenade, bit on the handle, and slung it out on the other side of the sandbags - all while tumbling back towards the camp.

BOOM!

The grenade detonated in mid-air above the sandbag wall. The unlucky pony operating the MG was turned into crimson paste and mist. Bits and chunks of his flesh were flying in the air all over. I was barely far enough to avoid the blast, but only because I couldn’t dodge the pony that absorbed it for me as his gore sprayed all over. I had Pony bits all over me! Shrapnel flew through the air, inflicting small incisions all over my tattered uniform. My bandages felt looser but were still wrapped around my body. I was crawling away from the now decimated sandbags, as I saw the Changelings charging forward. In any second, they will be over the wall, and more bloodshed will ensue.

It was at that moment that the buildings to my right were illuminated by gunfire, emitting from the windows. Flashes of light were seen, as tracers flew in with deadly accuracy. One by one, the Changelings were being picked off from their flank as they got closer. They eventually realized what was happening, and sounded the retreat. As they ran, more ponies were shooting at the fleeing bugs. Some even stopped to drop their weapons as they lay down on their belly, hooves behind their head; a telltale sign of surrender.

When all was said and done, there were three Changelings who surrendered to us, after the bloody firefight. “Clear! We got some POWs.” I heard a mare yell from behind. I slowly and shakily got up to my hooves, hot coals forming in my lungs as my muscles screamed in pain. I didn’t really feel it during the fight due to the adrenaline, but when it was concluded it slammed into me like a train. I found myself lying on the ground, groaning in exertion and in pain.

I saw the red paste and entrails that littered the area around the sandbags and on me as well. I attempted to hurl but it was too painful to completely release the contents in my stomach, leaving me half-hurling and half-crying.

“Sunshine, are you alright?” I heard Syringe call out as I continued to suffer. I felt hooves pat my back, my wings, my neck, my shoulders, and then my flanks. “Are you hit?”

I could only shake my head. I was too busy failing to throw-up to talk.

“File the POWs in a line near that sandbag there!” Scribe barked orders as I clutched my stomach. I looked up to see three Changelings slowly walk in single file, with two armed ponies on both ends of the line escorting them. They aligned them in a straight horizontal line facing towards the camp. They had looks of fear smitten on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” Syringe kept asking me. I waved a hoof at her, only to be interrupted by an agonizing hurl. The contents finally came out though, spilled all over the crimson concrete.

“Grenade. Got some cuts.” I panted as I finished losing my meal. Syringe then started to work on my body, wiping off certain areas that had excessive amounts of blood pooled up on me. I then saw her, with absolute disgust apparent on her face, throw away a single tube of eviscerated intestine off of me.

“Line them up!” A Stallion called out. A small group of rifle ponies took position in front of the POWs. Scribe trotted forward ahead of them, silently inspecting the Changelings. “Any of you speak New Changeling?” he asked the ponies behind him as he faced the POWs. Nopony spoke up as I saw a bunch of heads shaking in denial. I noticed Syringe meekly raised a hoof, but stopped herself as she quickly brought it back down. She continued to work on me afterward.

Scribe reeled onto the first Changeling. “Do any of you speak Ponish?” They remained stoic, and didn’t answer. “Well, do you?” he asked again, impatiently. Again, they remained silent.

Scribe then lunged a hoof at one of the Changelings in his face, which made them fall to the ground. He groaned, muttering something in its own language. Scribe punched him again, this time in the stomach. The changeling hurled on his stomach, and spewed out a vibrant green liquid.

“So you don’t speak Ponish, then.” Scribe noted, as he trotted over to the second Changeling. “What about you, huh?” Scribe trotted closer to his face, which I thought was a terrible idea. What happened to the last pony who got this close was him getting stabbed in the neck. I watched in grim silence.

“Do you speak Ponish?” Scribe asked, menacingly.

He didn’t reply. He earned the same response from Scribe as the first Changeling did. This time though, he struck with extra force. I actually heard something break over the cries of pain the Changeling made. The third Changeling actually looked more and more nervous as Scribe worked down the line.

“I’m done asking nicely. I know one of you fucks speak Ponish!” Scribe yelled as he pulled out a revolver from his flank sheath. With his magnetic horseshoes, he held the gun in one hoof, aimed directly at the first Changeling’s Head. “Either one of you speak up, or all of you are dead!” he ordered.

Nopony moved or spoke. If it weren’t for the everlasting ambiance of warfare erupting all around me, everything would’ve been dead silent at that remark. Not a single Changeling responded to Scribe’s threat.

BLAM!

A single shot rang out from the revolver, as the first Changeling went limp underneath Scribe. The third Changeling visibly flinched from the sound. I could only watch in pain and fearful bewilderment as Scribe pulled the hammer back to load another round. He then aimed at the second Changeling, who was still on the ground.

“That’s strike one. What about you?” Scribe growled. The Changeling could only look up at him, as the barrel was planted on his head. He spat in Scribe’s face, sending droplets of green ooze splattered all over his features.

“Fuck you.” The Changeling muttered.

Scribe took a moment to stare at the Changeling, before striking him with a left uppercut to the stomach. “So you do speak Ponish then.” Scribe took the time to wipe the green liquid off of his face as he trotted backward. “Wanna tell me why you didn’t answer before? You could’ve saved your dead comrade here.”

“We’re dead anyway. What difference would it make?” The Changeling responded in between coughing fits.

“There’d be one more of you.”

“And there’d still be three dead Changelings lying in the Pavement when this is all said and done. It doesn’t matter.”

Scribe didn’t reply to that. “Do all of you speak Ponish?”

He didn’t reply. He stared at the ground below him. Scribe gave a kick to his face, which forced the Changeling to fall over. “Lemme ask again slowly, so you can understand me you fucking numbnuts: Do. All. Of. You. Speak. Ponish?” Scribe asked, slowly. Deliberately.

“N-No. Only Special Forces know.” He groaned as he got back up.

“And that’s what you are, apparently?”

“I was. I won’t be anything soon.”

“What about your other friend here?” Scribe casually waved the revolver toward the third Changeling, earning a slight flinch from him.

“He doesn’t know. He’s just a hatchling. Doesn’t know any better.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Ask him.” The bug replied wryly. His remark earned another kick from Scribe.

“City Hall. You know what, or where, it is?” Scribe inquired.

“Seen it. Know it. Don’t know what else you want from me.”

“How well-guarded is it?”

The bug gave a dry chuckle. “If this fight was any indicator on how that battle would turn out, I’d say there’s no hope for you. You’d be slaughtered.” a shiver traveled down my spine at those words. The changeling was smiling wickedly.

More and more beatings and questioning ensued. Eventually, we learned that there were numerous stationary guns garrisoned inside the City Hall, ready to decimate anyone who gets too close. They guarded the windows and the doorways and had numerous infantry inside covering every crook and cranny that was inside the building.

“Couldn’t we just blow the damn building up already? Why waste our precious Ponypower?” another pony asked Scribe, while the remaining Changeling POWs were still standing in the same spot they were before. Scribe turned to face the pony.

“We have no heavy support whatsoever. No Armour, no Naval Bombardment, no Airstrike, nothing. All we got is infantry. Even if I could round up all of the Engineers and rig explosives to blow the building to hell, it’d be a bigger waste of munitions and supplies. And we need that building intact and in our hooves, if we need any official declaration that the city is ours.” Scribe answered. “Now we know what to expect from them, at least. We need to rethink our strategy on this one.”

“What do we do about them, sir?” a Stallion asked, pointing his hoof at the POWs. Scribe looked at them with a begrudged expression. He then spoke, with an eerie absence of tone in his voice, “Kill them.”

My heart skipped a beat at those words. I watched as the Changelings stared at the Stallion raising his weapon.

PKOW!

The third one kneeled on his legs and begged in his language. He was blubbering and stuttering words and letters that nopony understood. He stared at his dead comrades - on the street behind him, and next to him by the sandbags - and then looked up to see the rifle barrel pointing at his face. His eyes widened.

PKOW!

Both of them were slumped on the ground. Several ponies moved around to gather the bodies and dispose of them. How they would do that, I didn’t know. Quite frankly, I don’t think I wanted to know. Syringe was finishing up on re-wrapping my bandages with a fresh cloth since my old ones were tattered and caked with blood. She then gave me a shot of Morphine, and another afterward. She gave me something called “Epinephrine”, which should help with the drowsiness that the Morphine gives.

Syringe then sighed as she trotted up to the body of a Bronze Mare - the same one from earlier. She was slumped by the sidewalk, motionless.

“The Mare - is she-” I attempted to ask, only to be stopped at Syringe’s cold words.

“Dead. Hit her in the windpipe. Internal bleeding. Nothing I could do.” she then averted her gaze toward the ground. “Nothing I could do.” she spoke again, seemingly troubled by it.

I sat hard on my haunches on a random spot in the blood-caked pavement. At that moment, I didn’t feel anything. With the amount of death and cruel violence I had witnessed tonight, I became weary and desensitized. Hollow, like a shell of my former self, I felt disconnected from the world around me. The ruined city offers no respite for me. Only death and misery.

I’ve never felt so lost, so helpless as I do now. No matter where I go and what I do, Ponies are dying all around me. And there isn’t a thing I can do about it. I can only watch and play along, Willingly trotting toward my own demise to join them if I’ve been deemed unlucky enough. I hugged my rifle closer to my body, my mind wandering back to Night Light. I imagined her in my embrace as I stroke the stock of the gun imagining it to be her mane. It didn’t help a lot. Barely any, actually. But I still did it. I kept trying to imagine myself in any other place except here. I felt tears well up the corners of my eyes.

“You okay?” Syringe asked me from the sandbag. Another tug around my heartstrings was felt. I felt hit Rock Bottom, yet I was physically capable expressing it. I keep feeling as if I wanted to burst into tears, yet I was incapable of doing so. My ears drooped.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” I lied. Syringe eyed me with a doubtful expression but shrugged. We both stared in random directions, neither of us speaking for a while.

“You have to be the luckiest Mare I think I know,” Syringe commented. Such a compliment was so random and out of place, I couldn’t help but stare at her with a newfound confusion.

“What?”

“I was just noting how lucky you are.”

“How so? I mean, how am I lucky?” I remedied.

“Okay, let’s review some facts: you were blown up with an 88 Mil’ in your face and survived. You were nearly blown apart by an explosion... Twice,” she added as she stared at the crimson-coated sandbag wall. Shaking her head, she continued. “And survived. You also fell from a great height, breaking your wings on landing. You’ve been shot, burned, and beaten to hell, and yet you are still standing. You should be deader than dead right now.”

I didn’t reply immediately. I just looked down at my rifle as I held it closer to me.

“You helped. You stopped me from falling asleep among Death’s Bed.” I finally answered.

“Maybe, but you were right next to Baker, and that other pony when the tank fired-”

“Boomer,” I added.

“Yeah, him. Anyway, you were in the same spot as them. Within just feet apart of each other. You had just as big of a chance as they did to die. And yet, you survived.” My mind reeled back to Baker’s entrails spilling out of his body as he lay motionless on the ground. I felt my stomach twist in knots. Now I felt guilty that I survived.

“Your point? I’m the luckiest Mare you’ve met, so what? I don’t feel so lucky after what I’ve seen and been through.” I replied bitterly, trying to change the subject.

“Maybe not, but I still think you are.” I gave her a glare. “Alright look, the point is: you seem to be very resilient. And I envy that. That’s all.” she concluded, as she resumed staring out into space.

“... Thanks? Why does that matter?” I inquired.

“It doesn’t. I just suck at small talk. I’m trying to keep my mind off of things.” Syringe answered earnestly. “And I suck at that too.”

I turned to look away, as several ponies were now picking up the dead Mare’s body and dragging her away to… somewhere. They disappeared into the triage tent that was next to the tent that Scribe occupied. I wondered what would happen to all of the dead that would remain after this battle is over. Would they bury them en masse? Burn them? Dump them in a random pit?

Another random Stallion trotted up beside Syringe and took aim with his rifle down at the street from behind the sandbag. Syringe scooched over closer toward me to make room for the Stallion. Neither one of us spoke, as we waited to see which disaster would find us next.





It didn’t take long after that firefight for Scribe to call me and Syringe into the tent again. We trotted in, finding several other officers gathering around the same table that Scribe was inspecting earlier. The passing conversations I heard around me from the officers were them coordinating battle plans with one another. The amount of information I heard all at once was somewhat staggering to me, difficult to even interpret what was being said all at once. I could only make out bits and pieces.

Scribe saw me and Syringe walk in for the second time. He raised a hoof, silencing all of the other conversations that were being relayed toward him. Another awkward silence filled the soundscape.

“You called us, sir?” Syringe asked diligently.

“I did. I have been thinking for a little while now, and I’ve come to a conclusion on what to do with you.”

Me and Syringe exchanged looks at each other, before turning our heads back to Syringe. “Didn’t you say we were staying with - who was it... Brass Screws?” I commented.

“I did. You’re still with Screw, but you’re not staying here. You’re joining the assault with everypony else on City Hall.”

The revelation sent a chill down my spine. I shivered in anticipation at Scribe’s words but kept a still expression. “Why the sudden change of heart, sir?”

“Not a change in heart, but a change in strategy. It turns out I greatly underestimated the enemy’s potential. Thanks to the information we’ve pried out of those Buggers, we now know that the enemy is toting more than we originally anticipated. If we were to have launched the assault as we originally planned, we would be decimated.”

Another officer behind Scribe trotted up toward us: A mare with a Rust colored Coat and dirty blonde mane. I couldn’t get a good view of her cutie mark, as her uniform hid it.

“We’ve been reviewing our plans with other Companies that are in the area around City Hall. We’ve devised a new plan of action for the final assault, and you will be joining in on it. Brass Screws here will be your Squad Leader. Follow her orders as if they were my own. Understand?” Scribe pointed a hoof at the Rusty Mare as he spoke that last word.

“Yessir.”

“Of course, sir.” me and Syringe spoke at once.

“Outstanding. I’ll call in a meeting with everypony here when we’re finished. For now, assume defensive positions.”





“Okay, change of plans!” Scribe called out as most of us huddled around him. “I’ve been relaying the new information we’ve acquired from our... Esteemed Guests, to the others.” He was talking about the Changeling POWs, I assumed. “We plan to assault the City Hall very soon, from different directions. Everypony gather ‘round.”

He, along with a few other Sergeants, pulled out a wide yet narrow map of the city of Vanhoover. It looked like the Road Atlas I’ve seen Baker inspect during our brief encounter with another squad, except it had a more detailed outline of the City Limits, and of Specific Buildings. There were also makeshift drawings on it made in unerasable marker. Scribe and the other officers began explaining the contents of the maps.

The map was cluttered. There were Green and Black lines drawn on it, colliding and contrasting with one another. The entire Western half of the city was behind a thick Green line, which contrasted deeply with the red line that enveloped the more ‘Urban’ areas of the city - places that were heavily populated and known for high Pedestrian activity back before it was occupied by the Changelings. There were these ‘sectors’ that were either contested or completely controlled. Each sector had a little circle with a dot in the middle of it that was crudely drawn in the correspondent color of the faction it belonged to; Black for Changeling, and Green for Equestria. Each of these circles was dubbed ‘Control Points’ as Scribe explained as he introduced us to the map.

There were also these stars that were drawn on the map as well, which Scribe explained it to be a sector of high importance or strategic value. These points had no particular name, but were instead drawn with a star of the corresponding color that point belonged to. They earned the nickname “Vital Points”. There were three of them: One of them was the Public Theater, a massive atrium with a stage where Grand Opera or Dramatic Plays would be hosted in. It was located in the Northernmost part of the city, near the suburbs.

The second one was right dab in the middle of the Downtown area, where the City Hall is located. That was where we were near. We were about 250 meters SouthEast of them, which was how they found us so easily. Scribe explained that we were to assault City Hall very shortly since they already found us. If it took one random group to find us, others will surely follow behind.

And the third one was a Naval Dockyard located to the South, in the industrial district. It laid in a heavy machinery-cluttered environment (such as Giant Cranes, Industrial-Purposed Vehicles, and Heavy Machinery.)

After Scribe and the other officers explained everything that was needed to know for the map, everything became quiet… as quiet as it can be in a warzone, that is. We all admired Scribe’s topography and drawing skills. Given his name, I assumed he might have been a scholar in his past occupation before the war. I wondered how a past Scholar could work there way up to an officer in less than three years. Then, Scribe cleared his throat.

“Okay: I know this is a lot to take in at once, so let me explain the situation. Right now, we have controlled the seaside of the city, meaning the harbors and dockyards are under our jurisdiction.” Scribe pulled out a blue marker as he continued, not missing a beat, “As of this moment, we control here, here, here, here, here, and here.” He circled the Naval Dockyard, the Theater, and several sectors in between the two. There was a line that bent erratically West and East as it stretched from North to South. The city was practically divided into two.

“The only thing we’re struggling on is the City Hall. We’ve already launched an assault on it hours ago, and it failed. They’re well dug in. But thanks to our Dear Friends, we know what they are toting a lot of their fighting power in there. We need to wipe them out to sustain a foothold.

“Right now, the only Companies that are aiming to capture this City Hall are us, the 14th Pegasi Commandos, and the 16th ‘Diamond Dog’ Company. We’re the 27th ‘Rock’ Company, in case you’ve forgotten.”

I wasn’t a part of his Company. I was 33rd ‘Wing’ Company. Not that it was important to note in the first place, and I don’t really think that matters as of now. I was following his orders. As far as I could tell, that was indication enough that I was under his command for his Company.

“Scouts came back to report on what the Situation looks like. The City Hall is heavily fortified. Bugs have sunk their teeth into it like a dog with a steak. A regular attack on the ground would be suicide. We can’t just throw Ponies into the meat grinder here, we have to plan this carefully and meticulously.”

“Well, what can we do? If we can’t blow it up, and if it’s difficult for us to take, then what option is left?” A mare commented from the crowd around me.

“We are conducting a three-pronged offensive in the City Hall. Two on land, and one in the air. The NCO of 16th Company and I have discussed via radio, and we have come up with a plan of action. However, the assault must be executed exactly as we have written it to be, at least until we get inside. If we have a chance of this working, we must all do our part word-for-word, and nothing less.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Syringe asked. Scribe took a deep breath.

“We - the 27th - are attacking from the sky. We are assaulting from the clouds, and are infiltrating from the maintenance stairwell connecting to the roof. The 16th will provide covering fire on the ground around the building - firing into the windows and throwing smoke to cover their advance.

“With the assistance of the 14th fighting on the rooftops around the Hall, they will cover our flight in. We wait for their signal, and we fly to the rooftop to fight our way indoors. Only some of us will land on the roof and storm the building. The rest of us will either find a place in the Hall roof to hunker down or will hover over the area and watch the perimeter.

“Brass, your squad will be the first to breach and clear. Ripe Melon’s squad will follow after. Then Midnight’s, Bale’s, and Carrots’. In that order.”

I gazed my eyes around the crowd I was standing in and found Brass Screws among them. Her face was stoic as she nodded.

“Once we get inside, we’re storming the interior with everything we have, creating a big enough distraction for the other companies to make a final assault on the Hall altogether. That being said though, this may be our last assault on this City Hall. If we fail this attack, we lose our grip on the strategic situation in the city. We lose more Ponypower, we lose combat Capability. We lose that, we’ll be pushed back into the sea - dead or otherwise.

“Ponies, I’m not gonna lie to you: this is going to be a bloodbath. Some of us aren’t gonna make it through this alive.”

The air became still. Nopony spoke. The atmosphere scented of dried gunpowder and caked copper. Everypony stared at Scribe with fearful anticipation.

“The 16th is tasked to provide automatic covering fire from all around the Hall for us to land on the roof. The 14th will be assaulting from the Pitched Rooftops of the Tenants around the Hall, laying down fire on the Hall windows once we’re inside. They’ll fly in with us when the time is right. Everypony will push from the outside to create chaos and confusion in the enemy lines. Scouts have reported that the enemy is occupying the windows and the rooftop to lay down as much suppressive fire as they can. We take the roof, we’re essentially behind their flank without them realizing it.

“Once we secure the rooftop, we move down inside and fire down on the bugs. We wait for reinforcements from the 16th and 14th to arrive shortly after, then clear the building out room to room, hall to hall, door to door. We’ll be the first ones inside the building, and maybe the last ones out. We provide enough chaos for the 16th and 14th, they’ll move in with us. And with enough discipline and fighting, the Hall should be ours.”

Scribe suddenly ceased talking. He had a grim, yet confident expression ridden on his features.

“Everypony,” he spoke uncharacteristically softly, “This may be the last time you walk these streets. And for tradition of that, I shall be the leading pony to guide you all. I shall fight alongside you, every step of the way until I either succeed or drop dead. That being said, I will not abandon you, and you shouldn’t abandon others. If you feel fear, feel pride instead. If you know you’re about to die, die with gratitude knowing that you fought for liberating your home.”

Everypony stared at him with hope. There was a sense of Companionship that I felt amongst all of these ponies, mixed with the uncanny fear of death. It was probably because of the fact that we’re Pegasi, knowing us to be Competitive yet also Honorable. I felt a resonance of that among these ponies, as they stare at Scribe with Admiration.

“The Assault will begin in 30 minutes we take off in 10 get yourselves ready, go go go!”

With those three last words, we all rushed outside the fence. I ran near an unoccupied Sandbag Wall, checking my bearings and gear. I had about 8 Stripper Clips, a single Frag, and some bandages. I was packing light, meaning I could stay mobile while flying. Some Pegasi make that sore mistake and attempted to dodge bullets while doing so. Most don’t survive. At least I got a better chance.

I was flapping my wings up and down, feeling sore and painful all of a sudden. It didn’t feel like so while they were tucked in.

“You okay?” Syringe asked from my right, which startled me. “Sorry, I just noticed you had a pained expression. Does it hurt?” she asked empathetically.

“I uh, I mean- well, yeah.” I stuttered.

She reached her snout into her bag, reaching into it and pulling out a small syringe - Ironically enough - and spoke with it in her mouth, “Hol’ Shtill. Thish ish D’onna Sthing.”

“Wha- Fhh ah!” I could barely speak before the needle was injected into a soft, but painful fleshy spot inches away from my right wing. A cool Numbness washed over the wings almost instantaneously. The injection stung badly enough to make me wince, but it was over in a heartbeat.

“There. Should feel better.”

“Ow. Thanks.” I muttered, feeling grateful yet also embarrassed she helped me this much already. She’s helped a lot of ponies around camp already, but she’s helped me more times than I can remember.

“You alright?” Syringe asked, almost whispering.

“Yeah, I feel somewhat better now. Thanks for that.”

“No, I mean-” Syringe started but stopped herself before she could finish. I gazed at her, confused as ever. Syringe sighed as her shoulders sagged. I noticed the bags under her eyes. “I meant Mentally. And Emotionally. Are you… alright in the head?” she asked with hesitation.

I opened my mouth as if to speak, but stopped. Thinking back to all of the traumatizing encounters I had in this city, I wasn’t sure if I ever would feel mentally stable. Emotionally, I was suffering in silence - though that was nothing new. I contemplated for a little while on what exactly to say.

In truth, I didn’t know. I was scarred for life, yes, but I also didn’t feel… Miserable? Abandoned? Deprived of Hope? Whatever, I didn’t feel any of that. I just felt Hollow. Speaking Honestly, I felt a strange stillness in my heart and in my head. Pain as well.

For the second time that night, I wasn’t sure how I felt.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” I answered, technically not a lie. I was unsure how to answer her question when I didn’t even know the answer myself. Syringe gave me a doubtful look, and shrugged.

“Just… be careful. I already used so much of my supplies, it’d be classified as ‘Excessive Use’ if I helped you again.” Syringe noted.

I gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I bet I’d be fooled for a mummy if it were Nightmare Night.” Syringe gave a short laugh as well. Then we both stopped in Awkward and Melancholic silence. I looked around me, staring at the black columns of smoke billowing from the city to the sky. The searchlights have ceased long ago, now that everypony landed. Gunfire was heard everywhere, as well as more large and small explosions that popped all around us.

“Sweet Celestia... Here we are in the middle of a battlefield as ponies are dying all around me, and I’m laughing. There must be something wrong with me.” I muttered.

“Don’t think about it like that. You’ll kill yourself with regret later on.” Syringe whinnyed. “It’s best to move on from your troubles, rather than dwell in it. And everyone deals with their problems in different ways. Yours isn’t bad. It’s healthy.”

Her words surprised me. I didn’t expect this much philosophical knowledge from a Battle Medic… then again, this has certainly been a night of Firsts.

“Thanks, I…” I paused, assessing what to say. “I appreciate the advice.” I finished. Syringe nodded, as she turned to walk away.

“Also,” Syringe turned around and called out to me. “When we get to the Hall, try not to get blown up anymore tonight.”





“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.” I heard a Stallion call out behind me, as they traded lighters and Cigarettes with one another.

I sat idly on my haunches, atop a piece of cloud, high above the city. My rifle was slung across my body, resting along my chest. I stared down through a tiny crack of the Overcast layer, feeling a slight sense of vertigo. If for some reason I were a Unicorn or Earth Pony and I found myself atop this cloud, I would’ve had a panic attack. I then turned my gaze upward, toward the sky.

We were high enough in the air that we penetrated the overcast cloud layer. The void of Night could be seen in the sky everywhere I looked. The moon was full and radiant, shining with vibrant pale light. The stars dotted the atmosphere around it, twinkling and shining.

It was funny, really. I had a lot of views like this before, and I’ve always taken them for granted. Before the war, this kind of view would’ve gotten old and tiring after a few minutes. Now though, I began to appreciate how beautiful the night sky actually was. I could stare up there forever if I wished. I couldn’t, but Celestia be damned if I didn’t want to.

I turned to look behind me. A hundred or so Ponies were milling about along the cloud, not sure what to do. We flew up here about 5 minutes ago, and are now just waiting for the signal to attack. Ponies were talking with one another, talking about their lives and the past, about happier times. They knew it could be their last conversation. They were milking all the time they can get, as they interacted with one another.

One of them offered a hit of a Cigar to me, to which I declined. The Stallion insisted, to which I relented and gave a hit. I must’ve done it wrong, because I found myself coughing and hacking ill-tasted vapor from my lungs. How do people enjoy these things? When he offered it again, I refused.

Syringe wasn’t seen among the large crowd. She was there, somewhere. Just out of sight. I stared down at the city again. The hall wasn’t in sight, and what I could see wasn’t plentiful. There was only a small space I could peek through, so there wasn’t much to see. Just ruined buildings and streets.

As I sat alone, Ponies talked of their loved ones and families. They’ve been away from their friends and families since the beginning of the war. I didn’t participate in those conversations. As much as I missed Sunshine, I wasn’t keen for mentally focusing on her in the middle of a warzone. I couldn’t - not even for a second - afford to think about her. One second is all it takes. One second, and it’s all over. One second, and you’re dead.

I gazed at a tan-coated Stallion as he proceeded to pull something from his shirt. A small chain, with a tiny little ornament at the end of it. It was Celestia’s Sun, gilded in gold while the chain was silver. The stallion closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then he kissed the sun. A prayer to Celestia, I assumed. He stowed the Sun Necklace away in his uniform and pulled out something else from his pockets. Another Necklace. Except this one was for the Moon. A Totem for the Princesses. One of Sun, one of Moon. He did the same to the Moon; gave a prayer, and kissed it.

I looked around a little more, and found Scribe among them interacting with another pony I didn’t recognize. The pony had a radio backpack on them. I guessed that Scribe was communicating with the other companies. He stowed the telephone away and yelled out loud.

“Everypony, we got a few minutes before the signal is given. Prepare for Flight!” Scribe called out as he milled about, inspecting his forces. There were some of us who were shaken, exhausted, wounded, or worse. I wondered why Scribe was even willing to send wounded ponies out to fight if they weren’t fit to fight in the first place. The desperation of this assault must be setting in on Scribe’s Psyche. If he’s this desperate to capture a single building by hurling ponies into the fray, the situation must be worse than I thought.

“Squad, Roll Call!” I heard a Mare’s voice call out. I turned around to find Brass Screws being huddled by a small group of ponies - about 6 or so. I heard her calling out names, prompting me to file into her little group.

I barely knew these ponies - only their names, really. But I knew what they were supposed to do.

“Private Storm Cloud!” she called the first name.

“Present.” a Charcoal-coated Stallion replied; He was the new LAT - Light Anti-Tank. He carried another Thunderbolt similar to what Boomer had.

“Private Sunshine Tempest!”

I speed walked over to the huddle as she called my name.

“Right here!” I answered back. She kept going.

“Corporal Morning Dew!”

“I’m alive.” a Timber colored Mare replied, her voice foppish and high pitch; she was the Radio Pony, armed with a different looking weapon compared to the rest of us. The Barrel was stubby and short, with the magazine fed through the side of the chamber instead of the bottom. I knew at first glance that it was an automatic weapon, much like the MP40s that the Changelings have.

“Private Rain Drop.”

“Present.” a Teal-coated Stallion, sounding grizzled and somewhat disgruntled; he was the Machine Gunner, as he carried a gun with a drum-fed magazine attached at the top of the gun.

“Corporal Syringe.”

“I’m here.” she called out from my right, next to Morning Dew. I already knew she was the medic.

“Corporal Pumpkin Patch!”

“Here.” yet another Stallion, this one with an orange Coat; he was a standard issue rifle pony, but from what I could gather he was a skilled shot. Abnormally skilled.

“And Corporal Dominoes!”

“Ready.” another Peach Mare; she was the Demolitions/Engineer expert. She could make things explode a little bigger than normal if she wished.

“Okay… that’s everypony accounted for.” She mouthed to herself the names she just called out while counting all of us. When she finished, she opened her mouth to speak, “You are all under my jurisdiction from here on out. You will follow my orders as if the princesses themselves decreed it. And you will do as I say one-thousand percent. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am!” we all replied, somewhat simultaneously.

“Fix Bayonets!” Scribe announced loudly.

Everypony took the time to attach a small blade upon the barrel of our weapons. Ponies with any automatic weaponry, however, will have to make do without one. Some weapons were unfit for bayonets. Mine was, at least. I fixed the ring near the base of the blade along the tip of my weapon and secured it in place. After a few practice thrusts with the weapon, I was already used to the new weight of the weapon.

I then found myself trotting over to Syringe, whom of which was talking to another battle medic. I overheard a part of their conversation, talking about… something. I could only make out bits and pieces. Something about logistics, and propaganda. I didn’t understand the context.

Syringe noticed me approaching and quickly began to wrap up her conversation. The medic bid her goodbye, as Syringe turned to face me.

“You need something?” Syringe asked with indignation, which somewhat took me back considering her usual hospitable tone for me.

“No, I’m fine. Why are you so sour?”

“Sigh, sorry. I just…” She didn’t finish. She found herself staring down at the cloud she was standing on. “I’m just working through some things right now. Trying to stay focused.”

“I-it’s fine, really. It’s okay. Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I’m just not in the mood for small talk.”

“Why? What happened.”

“Nothing. Nothing happened.” Syringe dismissed, as she turned to walk off in another direction.

“Syringe.” I called out, reaching a hoof toward her. She didn’t turn back. I slowly placed my hoof back down, sighing.

I couldn’t help but wonder why Syringe acting reclusive suddenly. It was as if she just discovered a negative revelation, and is unwilling to share with anypony… maybe that was the case, maybe it’s not. I didn’t know either way, which helped me none.





I was sitting beside Storm Cloud - the Radio Pony for Brass Screws - when I heard it. I heard the transmission from his pack clear as day. I also heard it from another pony who also had a pack like Morning’s. The Transmission was broadcasted on multiple frequencies.

“Attention, this is Lieutenant Stitches from the 14th calling to all Companies. We’re Green to go! Repeat: we’re Green to go!” a gruff Stallion’s voice announced through the transmission.

“Okay, everypony gear up! We’re about to drop!” Brass Screws announced aloud, as ponies around us sprung up into action. They ceased whatever it was they were doing before and began to gear up.

I could hear Scribe from afar barking orders at other ponies, saying that the signal was given. Chaos was now apparent all over the cloud layer, as Ponies rushed to their assigned squads. Syringe, Storm Cloud, Morning Dew, Pumpkin Patch, Rain Drops, Dominoes, and I were huddled around Brass Screws as she did another Roll Call. When we were all accounted for, she then went over the plan of action once more.

We were to drop on to the roof and work our way inside through the maintenance staircase. Once we’re inside, we were to clear the upper levels first and find the Mayor’s Office. The other Companies will be tasked in clearing the lower levels by penetrating through the Colonnade on the front entrance.

The office for the Mayor should be located on the third floor. Brass Screws repeatedly emphasized that it is our top priority. We get to there, we can access the loudspeakers. We access the loudspeakers, we can implore the Changelings to surrender. But most importantly, it gives us breathing room if we capture this building. Room to keep fighting.

“Are we all caught up?” Brass finally asked as she finished briefing us in. We all nodded our heads. “Alright then. Follow my lead, shoot straight, use your head, and we can win this. Get ready to fly.”

“Everypony, we got one minute before we drop down. Assume positions!” Scribe announced loudly, for all of us to hear. Everypony was milling about, doing whatever it is they do before they’re sent to battle. Some of them joke around with one another, others send prayers to the Princesses.

Me? I thought of Night Light one more time. It might be my last. It helped, somehow. It hurts to think about her when she’s gone, yet it also fuels something in me. Some kind of stubborn determination that pushes me to see this thing through to the end. I felt scared of what was to come next. Scared that I will end up just as another name on a very long list.

But I was not going to let that happen.

“Thirty seconds - Once we get inside, refrain from using radios unless you are certain the area is clear!” Scribe announced to all who could hear.

I grabbed my rifle in my hooves and checked the Chamber. It was still loaded and primed to fire. The Bayonet was fixed to the gun nice and snug and didn’t feel loose. Everything was accounted for.

I then felt something touch my back. Looking behind me, it was Syringe. “I mean it: Don’t get blown up anymore. Please.” she spoke blankly, yet said ‘please’ with a more softer tone.

“I’ll try not to... For your sake.” I remarked, which earned a single “hah” from Syringe as she trotted near Brass.

“Ten seconds!”

“Everypony, this is it! May Luna’s Night have mercy on our souls.” Brass Screws encouraged us as she unfurled her wings. Everyone else did the same. I stared down at the break in the clouds in front of us, the City Hall finally in view. The roof was flat, save for a ridge that elevated as two angled slopes on each side the roof was divided into two flat sections, with the ridge in the middle. There was a relatively small box atop of the roof as well. Tracers were flying in and out of the building. The fight had already begun.

Suddenly a loud, high-pitched Whistle sounded as Scribe shouted at the top of his lungs, “GO, DIVE DIVE DIVE!” as hundreds of pegasi dropped from the clouds and dove into the Hellfire. I followed closely behind Brass and the rest of the squad, as I could see the world around me getting closer and closer. I saw the chaos of the firefight around City Hall, as hundreds of Ponies and Changelings alike were exchanging shots with one another. My slung rifle flew and battered against my body as I increased speed in my descent. When we were closer to the ground, the Pegasi around me leveled out and straightened their wings. They were now hovering slowly downward, quickly using their hooves to hold their rifles.

I hovered in place about 30 meters above the roof of the large political building. Dozens of Changelings were milling about on the roof, firing down on the ponies below them. I looked around and saw pastel colored bodies on the roofs around them, not opening fire yet. I wondered - for a split second - why they weren’t firing. Just as the thought had crossed my mind, muzzle flashes were seen lighting up the dark crevices of the Gabled roofs where they were bunched up. More tracers were seen striking the bugs on the roof with deadly precision. Soon, only a handful remained as they hugged the roof with their body. The only cover they had was a half-wall that barely covered the top of their back.

“Open fire on them!” I heard a pony in the air near me call out. Soon, gunfire erupted in the sky above the Changelings. Not one of them looked up. They were all mown down by a neverending barrage of bullets. I didn’t even need to aim my rifle at them. They were already dead.

I then watched as Brass and the others were landing on the roof near the corpses. I soon joined them, landing beside Storm Cloud. Brass Screws quietly counted to herself, pointing a hoof at each of us as she counted. When she was finished, she counted again.

I peered over the front side of the building. Ponies were huddling still-burning wrecks of vehicles and piles of rubble while exchanging fire from the Changelings inside the building I was standing in. The height of the building I stood on was about 20 to 30 meters. I then turned my gaze to the other condos and buildings around us. The rooftops were swarmed with ponies. One of them waved at me. I waved back. They were all opening fire in the entrances and windows all around the Hall, preventing any kind of escape.

“Okay, everypony’s accounted for. On me - single file line - and don’t fucking bunch up!” Brass announced as she made her way over to the same box-like structure on the roof I observed earlier. It was the entrance toward the Maintenance staircase. “Sunshine, you’re lead pony! Open this door!”

“On it!” I replied as I rushed over. I hugged the frame of the door, planting an ear against it to see if I could pick up on anything beyond it. A useless gesture, since gunfire was all I could hear anyway. When nothing else happened, I placed a hoof on the handle and twisted it. It creaked open, revealing a dimly lit U-shaped staircase leading downward. I trotted through with my rifle in hoof, slowly and methodically. I aimed down toward the nook beside the staircase leading downward. As I trotted in, others followed behind. Nopony spoke any words.

Gunfire was becoming muffled through the walls, yet I also heard something else. An explosion, but not like a spontaneous explosion. It sounded more concentrated, thrown at something - or someone - specifically. I could make out the general location as to where it was coming from but had no way of interpreting where specifically.

When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I found another door. I hugged the frame, rifle ready as Brass raised a hoof in the air - bidding the others to stop. She pointed at Pumpkin Patch, then at the door. He made his way over with his rifle, nodding at me to open it. The others had their weapons fixed toward the door, standing on the staircase.

I slowly opened it, waiting for a reaction on the other side. When none came, I pushed it open further with my hoof and breached inside. Aiming my rifle to the left side, I came across a hallway.

To my surprise, the hall was completely empty.

The walls were of striped wallpaper, with multiple frames of murals and portraits hanging along the hall. The carpet was patterned and polyester, with multiple stained spots littering the once fine looking floor. Multiple doorways were seen stretching along the hall all the way toward the dead end - which stopped at a single double-hung window leading outside.

The hall’s decor might’ve been sophisticatedly stylish at a time. Now though, the scars of battle haunted the halls forever. There were ugly stains and spots that littered the walls and floors, as well as spent bullet casings that clung loudly when I stepped on them. Pieces of trash and litter cluttered the space in between the walls as well, giving it a very dirty feel.

Pumpkin followed me shortly after, aiming toward the right side. Both sides were relatively the same, save for the right side ending at a 4-way intersection of walkways instead of a window. The walkway would either split into continuing forward until it stopped at another window, while also diverting to the left and right. More doorways were also cluttering the walls along the hallways.

Where the hell was the Changelings? From the amount of gunfire I heard outside, I expected to find fierce resistance on all levels of the building. This level seemed entirely vacant.

“Clear!” Pumpkin whispered back toward the doorway. The rest of the squad filed in toward the hall, aiming in several different directions as they took up defensive positions around me. Each little crevice, corner, and doorway had a rifle barrel aimed toward it. Mine was aimed toward the intersection in the hall. When all of us were in the room, Brass whispered aloud, “Pumpkin, go back up to gather Melon’s squad and order them to breach.”

“Roger.” Pumpkin replied as he made his way back up the stairs.

“Keep your eyes peeled. When the others get here, we’ll advance toward the intersection in the hall.” Brass ordered. Her tone was hushed and quiet.

For about a minute, we waited in tense silence. Nothing came or started shooting at us, giving me the idea that the Bugs were unaware of our presence. From the sounds of warfare that I heard around me, the fighting was still taking place upon the first and second floor. We should be on the third floor.

I finally heard hoofsteps rushing toward us from the staircase, as Pumpkin returned with more ponies following behind. When everypony else was now in the room, Brass searched for somepony amongst the newer group. She found whoever she was looking for and spoke aloud, as I watched her.

“Melon, we’re heading Northwest to clear the other side of that intersection. Your squad will clear this side, from that dead-end to that walkway. When we’re done on both halls, we rendezvous back at the intersection and clear the other two walkways in the same way.  Understand?” she inquired as she pointed a hoof from one end of the hall to the other.

“Understood. Mangos, you’re lead pony!” Melon ordered as her team got to work on moving from door to door, clearing each and every room as they made their way down the hall.

“Okay, my squad; move up carefully until we reach that window. Clear every door on the way.”

We all moved together in a loosely packed formation, with three of us on each end of the hall; making our way through one room at a time. I helped out Rain Drop and Pumpkin Patch clear the right side of the walkway; Syringe and Brass stayed in the middle of the hall guarding our blind spot as Dew helped Storm Cloud and Dominoes cleared the left side.

We made our way through each room with silent progression. There was no Pony or Changeling in each room we covered so far. All we found were vacant office rooms, with overturned desks and paper all over the floor. It was a mess. The whole Hall seemed to be deteriorated this way. When Rain Drop was still busy inspecting behind the desks, I randomly picked up a piece of paper with my mouth and placed it against the wall with my hoof, reading it silently.

It revealed nothing of interest, except for a small article of a logistics report from the Southwestern Harbor. It was dated back to October of 1010, just a few months before the war began. It talked about how oil and fuel shipments were of “inadequate quantity”, stating that some of the Cargo Ships designated for delivery never arrived. No traces of them were found as if they had just disappeared at sea. I tossed the paper aside and gazed at the carpet. There were literally hundreds of papers just like this one littered in this office alone. I was suddenly thankful that I wasn’t a politician before this started.

We continued back toward the hall and made it to the intersection until we stopped. Pumpkin and I were tasked by Brass to peek the corner of each walkway that split off from the long and narrow hall we occupied. I breached the right, and Pumpkin breached the left. On my end, there was another staircase. It leads further down to the lower levels of the Hall. Gunfire was still heard around me, muffled through the walls and floors. But it seemed to echo strongly through that staircase. The enemy is definitely down there, still unaware of our existence.

“Staircase. Leads further down.” I whispered back to Brass Screws. She nodded, then pointed a hoof at Pumpkin.

“Anything else over there?” she asked Pumpkin.

“Negative. Looks clear. I see a large door at the end though. Looks important. Might be the Mayor’s office.”

“Alright, keep sweeping but be careful. One of these rooms could still be occupied.” Brass ordered as we kept moving. I turned behind me to find Melon and her squad nearing the end of her side of the hall. Facing forward again, I trotted my way across the intersection and continued to clear out each room. Each of these rooms was just as bland and empty as the rest, filled with useless papers, cluttered with ruined and misplaced furniture.

This continued for several minutes until we reached the end of our hall by the double hung window. When we made it to the window, there were no doors that led into offices. Instead, they led to the restrooms. One for Stallions, one for Mares. I inadvertently breached the Stallion’s restroom, utterly revolted by the pungent stench of ammonia that pervaded the air. I didn’t bother clearing the rest of the room; no sane creature would spend more than a minute in that room, not even a Changeling… Wait, do Changelings even have noses? I wasn’t sure about that, actually. I assumed they did.

“Okay, we’re done. Let’s head back to Melon.” Brass ordered as we trotted back toward the other end of the building. I saw Melon’s crew still working their way down the hall, but they appeared to be almost finished with their task.

“Rain Drop, cover the staircase leading to the second floor. Dew and Sunshine, clear that hall behind Rain Drop. The rest of you, take defensive positions and wait for Melon to arrive.

“Alright, let’s go.” Dew ushered me as we trotted along the hall, alert and suspicious of the lack of difficulty we had in clearing this building so far. I worked my way down the left side of the hall, Dew taking the right side. We would take turns opening the door, the pony across from us would cover the door as one of us opened it. If I were to open it, then Dew would cover me from across. And Vice Versa.

We kept doing that for about 5 minutes until we reached the pair of Grand and Regal looking doors. There was not a doubt in my mind. This had to be the Mayor’s Office. My nose wrinkled at the sudden stench of Iron and Copper, followed by spoiled eggs. My eyes watered slightly from the stench, and it seemed to be coming from beyond this door. Dew readied her SMG toward the door, before giving a nod to me. I pushed the door open gingerly with my hoof, and aimed my rifle inside.

… Before that moment, I had made the mistake into believing that I had seen what death looked like. I did, technically, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what laid beyond that door.

It was at that moment that I stepped out of Vanhoover, and landed straight into hell.

The room was painted with palm-tree Green, but was crudely tinted with patches of Crimson and Black. There were pastel colored pony corpses littering this room, some of them wearing an Equestrian Military Uniform. The ones that didn’t look even more decayed and rotten than the rest.

Some had detached limbs, others were decapitated. There was a pool of blood forming under the increasingly large pile of bodies along the right-back corner of the office, right next to the large Casement window that overlooked the front entrance outside.

The Mayor’s desk was still placed in the middle of the room, facing toward the double doors with the window behind it. The desk itself also had another corpse of a pony on it, who was missing all of its limbs and its head. I couldn’t even tell what Gender the pony might’ve been. Each of these ponies was seemingly flayed and tortured until death.

But the worst part of all of it? The smell. When I first opened the doors, the stench invaded my nostrils first before I could even interpret what was happened in the room with my eyes. Tears welling up in my sockets, I retreated back into the hall. I lost the more contents of my past meals shortly after my stomach twisted in knots.

“Sweet Celestia…” Dew muttered as he backpedaled away from the doors. “There’s… They’re… Fucking hell...”

After I finished vomiting, I wiped my snout with a hoof and stared at the floor - not wanting to look back. The stench escaped the room and was now flooding the hallways with its repulsive smell. The carpets would be stained forever, but they were ruined already.

Brass and Melon’s Squad were standing in the intersection exchanging orders with one another. I overheard Melon saying that this floor was already cleared and that we should send the rest of the squads to garrison the level. Brass was inclined to agree until he gazed at both me and Dew. Both of us were still recoiling from the gruesome sight we had just witnessed.

Brass ordered the rest of our squad to stay put and trotted toward us. “Is it clear?”

“We, uh… we found the Mayor’s Office.” Dew answered.

“Excellent. Is it clear, though?”

“Clear of hostiles, yes. Clear of Corpses? No. Not even close.”

“Corpses?” Brass muttered as she trotted closer. I raised a hoof in protest, only to be interrupted by another hurl from my stomach. At this rate, I might die of starvation by the time this night was over. Brass then saw the piles of bodies and the pool of blood. She backpedaled away quickly at the sight, placing a hoof over her snout. She appeared to be utterly disgusted. Who wouldn’t, staring at a pile of bodies?

“Oh god, that smell.” Brass whispered to herself. The Profound stench of death could now be smelled everywhere in the hall. “That’s the Mayor’s Office?”

“Was.” Dew replied.

“Fucking... What did those bugs do?” Brass spoke aloud. “Cover me.” She ordered, before taking a deep breath in while facing away from the doors. She then turned to gallop inside the room. She moved the piles of bodies away with a loud groan as if she was trying to find something. She moved around the room, darting her head all over in search of something. She took a few moments to step outside and suck in another fresh breath, moving further away from the room each time.

After the fourth time she entered the room, she started searching the Mayor’s desk. Besides the limbless pony corpse atop of the desk (which Brass shoved over as she searched), there wasn’t much of anything to look at on the desk, save for a few meaningless papers. She then started opening drawers, scurrying through them. Occasionally, she would reach into the drawer with her mouth and carefully bite on a piece of paper, placing it on the desk to read it. She did this to different pieces of paper from the desk for several minutes.

“Yes, Bingo!” she cheered, only to immediately regret speaking afterward. She looked green and pale, as she smelled the stench in the room. She then rushed out, panting for fresh air with a paper in her mouth. She spat it in her hooves and placed it against the wall, observing it. “Instructions on how to use the PA system. We struck gold in a mine full of shit.”

“Where is the PA System though?” Dew asked.

“It says its located in the… Basement? I didn’t think this building had a Basement.”

“So... We have to go downstairs then, toward where the fighting is?” I complained, still kneeling on the floor from exhaustion.

“It would seem so, yes.”

I groaned. “This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.”





When Brass communicated via Radio that the third floor was cleared, the response is given immediately. The ponies on the ground outside were no longer just shooting back and were actually advancing forward to breach the building from the front entrance. I overheard from Dew’s radio that the 16th and 14th began their assault, and are now making progress to push forward. They’re making steady progress, but it sounded like they were struggling to keep the casualties to a minimum.

Some parts of the 27th were still in the air, guarding the perimeter around the Hall as the rest of us pushed in. Melon’s Squad stayed with us as both Brass’ and her squad pushed downstairs. Midnight’s squad was sent to occupy the third floor, and Bales’ squad was to garrison the roof.

After we’ve established defensive positions on the upper floors of the Hall, Brass ordered us to continue sweeping the building by taking the third-floor stairway leading downward. She ordered me and Pumpkin again to scout ahead before the rest of us trotted further downward. The sounds of warfare seemed to be getting louder and louder. The fight outside seemed to be near the building, but not yet inside.

The third-floor stairway was also U-shaped, like the maintenance staircase. It ended at another hall, leading toward the front entrance. It stopped at a T-shaped intersection, with a balcony overlooking a very large area ahead. The area looked like an atrium but had no skylights to go with it. It was like the lobby of a bank, but more compact. The first floor and second floor were one big room. There were carved, marble columns that stretched all the way to the ceiling, just below the third floor.

Me and Pumpkin slowly trudged along the walls of the hall. No doors were near us, only portraits and paintings of various landscapes. We stopped at the intersection and peered around the corners of the wall. The Balcony kept stretching to the left and right of the intersection, all the way to the walls on each side of the building. Gunfire was now louder than ever, and I could hear indistinct shouting of Changelings below. I crept ever so slowly over the edge of the railings that held us back from falling.

The architecture of the lobby was unorthodox, for a political building. It had an unnecessarily large lobby connected to the front entrance. The entrance itself was actually its own separate room, with divider walls that only stopped about halfway to the ceiling. Several large doorways divided the lobby and the entrance, all of which were barricaded with various furniture and emplacements made by the Changelings. Some of the doorways were occupied by a large, cannon-like gun battery facing outside. In the midst of the firefight, I saw one of the guns fire its round toward the door, causing smoke to billow out of the barrel.

The lobby itself was ruined beyond recognition. Large desks were either broken apart, shot to pieces, blown up, or just gone altogether. They scattered the space of the room in no particular order of placement. The Changelings were all over the lobby, firing toward the front entrance and taking cover away from the large stationary windows that were emplaced on each wall. The gunfire from outside seemed to be coming from an upper angle. I immediately realized that the 14th Company must’ve been suppressing them for a while now. The Changelings were catching on to our tricks though, and have respected the sightlines of the windows enough to stay away from them.

I stepped away from the ledge, and peered the walkways along the alcony. Several doors were along the walls leading toward the back of the building. No staircase in sight though. The offices and rooms have not been cleared as well.

“That’s a lot of bugs.” Pumpkin observed, his tone dry and devoid of interest. “Not a single one of them know we’re up here.”

“Let’s keep it that way for now. We need more ponies if we wish to fight that many Changelings.” I suggested as I backpedaled away from the railing. Pumpkin followed me without protest, as we made our way back upstairs toward Brass Screws. When we arrived, we informed her of our findings.

“So we still have the element of surprise, then.” Brass contemplated aloud. “That’s good, that means we might actually win this fight. We need to jump them when the time is right.”

“All that’s left of the second floor is doors leading into seperate rooms on the balcony. No stairs, as far as I know. We may have to fly our way down.” Pumpkin retorted, as he unfurled his wings to prove his point.

“Maybe one of those doors leads to the staircase?” I inquired.

“We’ll know when the time comes. For now though, just watch the hall and garrison the stairway.” Brass ordered as she pointed at both me and Pumpkin.

“Understood.” Pumpkin answered for both of us.

“Dew, where’ you at? I need you!” Brass called out, as Pumpkin and I made our way back down the staircase. Rifles at the ready, we used our wings to slowly hover as we aimed toward the intersection. Gunfire became loud again as we passed the break in the stairway, no longer reverbing through the walls.

We waited for a few tense minutes for Brass to conclude whatever it was he was doing. I knew he was communicating with the other squad leaders with the help of Dew but had no way of interpreting what it was they were saying through the sounds of the firefight that was below. My mind then projected mental images of Changelings turning the corner of the Intersection, spotting us immediately afterward. I shook my head clear of those thoughts. I couldn’t afford to daydream now. I had to focus.

A few more minutes pass, and I heard hoofsteps behind us. I turned to find Brass standing behind us, with the rest of the squad in tow.

“I just spoke to Scribe; he’s ordered us to open fire on them right now. Things aren’t going so well outside.” She explained as the group of ponies made their way toward the balcony.

“What about the rooms on the balcony, don’t you want to clear those first?”

“I do, but orders are orders. And we need to get to the Basement anyway. This is our next step in that. We do our jobs, then we worry about that.” Brass replied, but more hushed as she trotted closer toward the railing. “Rain Drop, set up. Target the Pak Guns.” Brass ordered as Rain got to work on unfolding his bipod of the weapon. He placed it carefully along the thin railing and cocked the chamber.

“Ready.” he replied with an eerily still tone.

“Everypony, take aim! Do not fire until I say so.” Brass then ordered the rest of us. We all piled along the railing in a single file line, aiming our weapons downward. There were so many, we wouldn’t be able to kill them all if we ran out of ammo in our chambers. They were blissfully unaware of our existence. Some of the gunfire from the interior was dying down, somewhat.

Brass then trotted over toward Dew once more, as she picked up the telephone from her pack.

“This is Brass Screws from the 27th Company, we’re beginning our interior assault. Opening fire now. Out.” she spoke quickly, before stowing the phone back into the receiver. Slightly shoving Dew aside, she took position behind the railing and aimed her rifle downward. “On my mark. Pick your targets, and make those shots count.”

With those words, our weapons raised higher again. We each took aim.

“OPEN FIRE!” she shouted, as the room erupted to life once more with bullets. Rain Drops’ weapon roared like a dragon, as dozens of tracers and bullets flew through the room with deadly accuracy. And dozens of Changelings were slain because of our sudden attack. I aimed at no Changeling in particular. I just picked one and started shooting, as everypony else did. Rain Drop at least had a target, as he made quick work of the Bugs that were working on the Pak Guns.

Several of them turned behind us to see us above the lobby, firing down on top of them. Some tried to warn their comrades, others tried to make a break for it to another position. Some of them didn’t even realize what happened before they fell. Bullet casings clung and clattered all over the floor where we were standing.

It was a massacre.

Some of the Changelings managed to find a better position to combat us, as they attempted to fire back at us. But they were either lousy shots, or they just couldn’t get a good angle on us as they were being fired upon. Almost all of their bullets missed us. Some of them struck the railing and the floor beneath us, but nopony got hurt.

Dozens of Changelings fled backwards toward the back of the lobby, below the railing. When they disappeared from sight, we focused our attention on whoever was left. They were panicking and scurrying all over, some of them not even realizing what was happening. It was somewhat pitiful to watch them helplessly flail about in their doom, not knowing what to do.

When the last Changeling soldier in the room stopped moving, the guns were eerily silent. Shots were still heard outside, bullets zooming through the front entrance as they achieved nothing. Brass peeked over the railing and stared straight down. I peeked over as well, and saw nothing but green blood and Changeling corpses. The lobby had turned into a slaughterhouse.

“Pumpkin, Reconnoiter the lobby. See if you can find any more of them.” Brass pointed a hoof toward the floor below us.

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied diligently, as he spread his wings to hover. He leapt over the railing and flew around the lobby with elegance, scanning the room for hostiles.

“Okay; Sunshine, Dew, and Storm, you’re clearing the right side. Clear each room and return here when you’re done. Rain Drops, and Syringe, you’re coming with me to secure the left side. Move it!” Brass swiftly ordered us as her crew got to work. I rushed over to the end of the walkway on my side, and stopped at the last door toward the end. I hugged the wall near the door, as Storm hugged the other side of the doorframe. Dew proceeded to clear the door next to us alone, armed with his SMG.

As I was about to open the door, Pumpkin Patch finally flew back up to the balcony. “Lobby is empty, Ma’am. They’re either dead, or they fled. There’s a doorway leading to another stairway further down. That may be where the rest of them are hiding.”

“Alright, good work. Keep an eye out on the front entrance.” Brass complimented, as she continued to clear her side of the balcony. I then proceeded to slowly open the door with a hoof. I stopped opening it further when I found another staircase, leading down to the main lobby.

“Staircase.” I muttered to Storm. He nods, as he turns back behind him. At that moment, Dew emerges from her room looking satisfied. “Clear.” she said.

“All clear over here!” Dew shouted toward Brass.

“Same here. Did you find a way down?”

“Yeah, it’s another staircase.”

“Alright. We’re clear, fall in!” she ordered, as we all mingled toward the T-shaped intersection. “Gimme an ammo count. How are we on that?”

“I’ve got about 4 mags’ left.” Rain Drops spoke first.

“6 mags.” Dew then answered.

“I got plenty.”

“Me too.”

“I need another stripper clip. Anyone got one to spare?” Syringe then asked.

“Yeah, I got you.” I answered as I reached a hoof into my torn up vest. Handing her one 5-round clip, she loaded it into her rifle. “Last clip for me. Thanks.” She replied.

I then began to count my ammo as well. That was when I noticed the holes in my ammo pouches. The encounter with the Tiger from earlier had not been kind to me, my uniform, or my ammo. I didn’t realize it before, but I now had 4 stripper clips left. Not a lot.

“Brass, this is Scribe. What’s the Status on the lobby?” a voice was heard through Dew’s radio. Brass rushed over to pick up the receiver to reply.

“Area is clear. Hostiles are eliminated. There’s only a dozen or so left, and they retreated further down to the Basement.” Brass responded.

“Basement? - uh, okay! Roger that. We’re sending the 16th in right now. Over and out.” with a hiss, the tinny voice ceased.

“Okay, we’re done here. Take the staircase or fly down - doesn’t matter - just get to the lobby and assume defensive positions.”

Each of us proceeded to fly down toward the lobby using our wings. The gunfire outside suddenly died down to just sporadic pops outside. Then it ceased entirely. When we all reached the lobby, I galloped through the spacious lobby toward the front entrance. I then saw a mass of Ponies from outside rushing toward the entrance, galloping as if their life depended on it. When they saw me, some of them stopped immediately and took aim against me.

“NUDUM COLORUM, NUDUM COLORUM!” I shouted over and over, while also making an ‘X’ with my hooves. Their suspicion quickly died down after that, and they continued to rush toward the Hall. When they arrived, they stopped under the colonnade panting and exhausted.

“How bad is it?” one of them asked.

“Not bad. We didn’t even lose anypony.” I answered.

“You don’t say? Huh… finally, some good news.”

We trotted further inside as each of the ponies from the 16th trudged their way toward the lobby. “Get Scribe on the comms, tell them the main floor and up is clear.” one of the officers ordered his corporal. I didn’t recognize either of them. Beneath the balcony where my Squad was at, there was a larger Marble Staircase that started at the lobby, and ended further below. There was not a doubt in my mind that the Changelings were hiding under there. But I pondered how we were to clear them out. They were like rats in a corner; they would either fight back ferociously, or surrender meekly. I was starting to assume they would most likely do the former.

More Ponies began filing into the building from all directions. From the roof, from the balcony, from the main entrance - everywhere. The building’s exterior and perimeter was ours, no doubt about that. But the basement was a different story. And we weren’t done yet.

“Everypony in my squad, on me!” I heard Brass ordered form the commotion that filled this room. There were ponies aiming their weapons toward the basement stairs, waiting for the Changelings to see if they were gonna come out. Others were either lounging with their squad for however short it may last, or were covering a sightline that reached outside. I trotted toward Brass and the others, gathering around in a huddle. “Scribe will be here soon, no doubt to order us to clear the Basement. Gimme an ammo and med count.”

We all proceeded to inventory our belongings, listing them off aloud as we counted. I had used about 2 whole stripper clips worth of ammo during the previous engagement, and was down to 2. Informing the others, they generously gave me a few more to go on, enough to last me for another engagement. Syringe still had plenty of medical supplies, as she hadn’t needed a use for them yet.

While were were still counting our belongings, we heard a voice call out for all of us to hear. “Hey, we got a live one over here!” We each turned to look at a pony who was staring down at a Changeling Corpse. Or at least, I thought it was a corpse. Some of the others were closing in around him, discussing with one another on what to do with him. It was at that moment that I saw Scribe trot in from the front entrance, accompanied by a security detail.

“What is going on over here?” Scribe demanded for an answer, as he shoved others out of the way to see what the commotion was all about. Eventually - when my squad was finished with their inventory count - we trudged over toward them.

“This one’s still alive, sir. He looked as if he was playing dead.” an answer was given, as Scribe stared down at the Changeling in question. I peered through the huddle around him, and saw him cowering on the floor with his hooves over his head. He then stared up, and found each of us looking down on him - seemingly condescending. Out of nowhere, he started babbling in his language. Each of us were dumbfounded on what to do next. The Changeling appeared to be begging to us, as if pleading for mercy.

One of the ponies around me aimed his weapon toward the Changeling when he started moving. “No!” Scribe swiftly ordered. “Don’t shoot.” the Rifle Pony gazed at Scribe dubiously, but complied. “He may be useful to us, actually.”

“How?” Brass inquired. Scribe knelt down and muttered, low and even. I could tell he tried his best not to sound frightening or intimidating.

“Can you understand me?” he asked blankly. The Changeling stared at him, not moving or speaking. Then he pointed to his throat, and shook his head. “Can you understand what I’m saying?” Scribe asked again. The same response was given. Scribe sighed.

“Okay, how about this: Does anypony here know New Changeling? Anypony at all?” he asked to each and every one of us that was huddled around him. Nopony spoke for a while.

“I do.” someone then called out from behind me. I turned to look, and found Syringe raising her hoof. I stared at her dumbfoundedly.

“How much do you know?”

“I have a basic understanding. I can do coherent sentences, but I’m not entirely fluent.”

“Can you convince this one to surrender, so we may interrogate him on what is down there in the basement?” Scribe asked. Syringe took a moment to ponder her choice, while staring at the stairway leading down.

“I’ll try. No Promises, though.” She then trotted over to the Changeling and knelt down beside him. He flinched away in fear and kept scooting away, until Syringe spoke.

“Bist du verletzt?” she spoke in the same tongue, shocking the Changeling to a stop. I could make out what it sounded like she said, but had no way of interpreting the meaning of their conversation.

“Ja, ich kann mit dir sprechen. Ich möchte helfen. Bist du verletzt?” She spoke to him again. The ponies all around us watched in silence with anticipation, the rest of us keeping a vigilant eye out for trouble.

Syringe offered a hoof to the Changeling, in a gentle and caring manner. She spoke softly, “Ich werde dir nicht wehtun. Ich will nur reden.” The Changeling was still hesitant, but eventually reached toward Syringe. He looked more curious than fearful. At least that was a start.

“Du... Du wirst mir nicht wehtun?” The Changeling finally responded.

“Nein.” Syringe answered.

There was a pause. The Changeling looked confused and suspicious, but was otherwise cooperative thus far. I had no clue what it was they were saying, but whatever Syringe was doing seemed to be working.

“Warum? Warum hilfst du mir? Es muss einen Grund geben, wenn du so fürsorglich und freundlich bist!” The Changeling seemed to be peeved.

“Es gibt einen Grund. Aber ich möchte nur, dass du zuerst meine Fragen beantwortest. Ich verspreche, dass dir nichts passieren wird.”

The Changeling once again went silent. I then noticed Brass Screws turn away from the huddle. “Pumpkin, Storm, and RainDrop; set up a defensive perimeter on the roof. If you spot anything, one of you will notify me ASAP.” She barked orders as she pointed hooves in several directions.

“Wilco.” responded Pumpkin.

“Warum interessiert es dich, was mit mir passiert? Ich bin ein Changeling! Du hasst mich und meine Art!” Bitterfully, the Changeling spoke once again. I turned back to look.

“Ich hasse dich nicht. Ich hasse nur, was deine Art getan hat. Ich wünschte nur, es hätte eine freundschaftliche Alternative geben können. Und ich beginne das mit dir.” Syringe answered with a kindhearted tone, I noticed. It struck the Changeling silent once again. Soon, he started to look down at the ground.

Then I saw his shoulders beginning to tremble incessantly. He was crying. He bursted into tears. “Ich weiß nicht..... Ich verstehe nicht, warum. Warum - das musste passieren. Ich habe so viele gute Freunde umsonst verloren - ohne Grund. Überhaupt kein Grund! Ich weiß nicht…” He ceased his blubbering for only a moment, to gaze at several of the dead bugs that littered the lobby. The stench of copper and Iron pervaded around us. “ch will einfach nur weggehen. Ich will nur, dass es aufhört.”

Syringe could only watch as the Bug lost his emotional control. In a way… I felt sorry for him. I couldn’t understand what it was he was sad about, but something told me it was personal. That the Bugs also had their own lives, their own emotions, their own stories, and trials.

Just like we did.

After much pondering and contemplation, Syringe finally spoke. “Du kannst helfen, mehr zu verhindern. Es gibt immer noch Überlebende Ihres defensiven Regiments, die sich in den unteren Ebenen befinden. Sie werden abgeschlachtet, wenn sie sich weigern, sich zu ergeben. Du kannst helfen, sie vom Gegenteil zu überzeugen.”

The Changeling then looked up at her, wide-eyed and surprised.

“Du.... Du verschonst sie, wenn sie ihre Waffen ablegen können? Nein, nein, das ist unmöglich!” He shook his head vigorously. “Selbst wenn man ihnen einen Moment des Friedens für die Verhandlungen geben könnte, werden sie trotzdem ablehnen.”

Syringe squinted her eyes. “Dann lass sie akzeptieren! Wir haben überlegene Zahlen und Taktiken, du hast nur überlegene Waffen. Sie können ihnen mitteilen, dass sie hoffnungslos in der Unterzahl sind, und sie bitten, ihre Waffen niederzulegen. Nur dann können wir sie verschonen.”

The Changeling continued to stare down at the floor. He remained still for a while. A few tense moments went by, as ponies began to be more on edge on what his reaction would be.

Finally, he spoke. “In Ordnung. Ich werde es tun.” Syringe smiled at his response.

Syringe stood up and faced Scribe. “Well?” He inquired.

“He’ll help, but on a condition: All of them are to be spared if they do surrender. They will lay down their weapons and will be inspected, but they must be spared.”

Scribe was quiet for a moment. “All of them?”

“All of them.” Syringe replied, not missing a beat. She seemed steadfast on the agreement. Scribe pondered again, a little longer this time.

“Alright. Fine.” He answered. Syringe smiled, as she turned back to face the Changeling.

“Wir sind bereit, wenn du es bist.”





After a little re-planning and organization with the defenses of the building, my squad - along with several others -  were assigned to the sweeping team for the Basement. We brought the Changeling with us in tow, as per our agreement. We had him shackled and his horn handicapped with a Magic Dampening Ring.

The layout of the Basement was not what I expected. The Stairs ended at a single door in a wall, leading to nowhere else. We hesitantly opened it, and it revealed another 4-way intersection. Each hall led to its own door at the end, with several others branching off to the walls along each path. As the group descended lower, I hugged the wall closer to my right.

Two of the Halls were different. One to the left had no doors on the wall with only one door frame attached to the dead end. The one that broke off straight ahead had a large, circle-shaped door that filled the entire wall frame. It was bulky, thick, and massive. It looked like a vault, more than a door. In fact, I automatically assumed it was a Vault.

“Which one is it?” Scribe asked Syringe.

“I dunno. He didn’t know exactly where they were either.” Syringe then replied, gazing her eyes at the Changeling. Several other ponies - myself included - were aiming their weapons toward the various halls, expecting company at any moment.

“Alright, I have an idea. Does he know a voice amplification spell?”

“I dunno, hold on.” Syringe raised a hoof toward Scribe, while simultaneously facing the Changeling. “Kannst du deine Stimme mit Magie verstärken?”

The Changeling looked up to her, and nodded. “Ja, Das kann ich tun.”

“He can do it.” Syringe spoke again normally, toward Scribe.

“Have him call out to his comrades using that. Tell them to surrender. If he makes a move, kill him.”

Everypony some ponies immediately aimed their rifles toward the Changeling, causing him to flinch. No shot was made, but that could change in an instant.

“Righto.” She replied, as she whispered to the Changeling. It was inaudible from my range, so I couldn’t hear what it was they were saying. But the Changeling nodded in the end, as Syringe carefully removed the ring from his horn. Ponies aimed at him suspiciously, as the horn was carefully removed. The Changeling remained still during the process. The ponies also remained reserved even after nothing happened.

Syringe motioned the Changeling to proceed with her hoof. He stepped forward by one step, and his horn illuminated. Everypony had a weapon aimed at him.

“ACHTUNG, TAPFERE SOLDATEN! DER KAMPF IST VORBEI!” His voice gave a mighty boom, sort of like how Luna did with her signature Canterlot Voice. “ICH STEHE JETZT VOR DIR MIT PONYS HINTER MIR, UND JEDER VON IHNEN IST BEWAFFNET. SIE WERDEN NICHT OHNE KAMPF UNTERGEHEN, ABER SIE HOFFEN AUCH, DASS DER KAMPF VERHINDERT WERDEN KONNTE!”

“Be prepared for anything. If Shit hits the fan, retreat upstairs.” Scribe muttered to all of us in earshot.

“ICH FLEHE DICH AN, LEG DEINE ARME HIN UND TRITT FRIEDLICH VOR. SIE HABEN MIR GEGENÜBER FREUNDLICHKEIT GEZEIGT, INDEM SIE MEIN LEBEN VERSCHONT HABEN, UND SIE WERDEN DASSELBE MIT DIR TUN, WENN DU DICH DARAN HÄLTST.”

There was no noise heard for a solid ten seconds. Everypony waited in tense, nerve wracking silence. Finally, the Changeling spoke again. “ICH BITTE EUCH ALLE, NUR EINEN MOMENT LANG LOGISCH ZU DENKEN. IST ES WIRKLICH WERT, DASS IHR UM EINEN KRIEG KÄMPFT, DER EINEN GROLL HERVORRUFT? AUF EIN EREIGNIS, DAS VOR JAHREN GESCHAH? BITTE, BEENDEN SIE DIESEN WAHNSINN, BEVOR ES ZU SPÄT IST!”

More silence was heard. Nothing happened. The halls were eerily still and quiet. Ponies turned their gazes in several directions in nervous anticipation.

“Is that a ‘no’, then?” Somepony whispered from behind.

“Shush!” Scribe hastily sneered. More silence was heard.

Blam! Blam Blam!

Gunshots were heard from the Vault doors. We each turned our weapons toward it. More gunshots were heard from there, but nothing happened. The door didn’t open, and nothing was outside of it. It didn’t sound like it came from any of the other side rooms, neither. It was from that Vault.

Then the shots were silent. No other noise was heard for a long while.

“What was that about?” Dew muttered from my left.

“Dunno. Sounded like a struggle of some kind.” Brass replied.

“Did you think they heard the message?” Scribe asked Syringe.

“Maybe. No way of telling.”

As Syringe answered, there was finally another sound. It was loud and sudden, making each of us jump and aim at the vault again upon hearing it. It was the sounds of the door opening, coming from straight ahead. The cross-shaped handle attached to the middle of the door spun rapidly, as the door itself groaned deafeningly.

The door wasn’t even finished opening, when dozens upon dozens of firearms all of the sudden were tossed outside. It kept happening, until the vault opened wide enough to reveal the interior. About 15 or so Changelings were seen, each of them standing away from one another while kneeling with their heads down. Each of them looked unarmed.

There were bodies behind them, but not Ponies. They were also Changelings, as one of them carried an Officer’s Uniform. A pistol laid atop his chest, as a pool of blood formed beneath him. I could tell at first glance that a Mutiny had occurred. A part of me was relieved, actually. I honestly didn’t think this plan would work.

“Move in and restrain them. Brass, stay with your squad and cover the others.” Scribe ordered, as we each got to work. Ponies began to funnel into the halls and carefully make their way toward the POWs. I turned to look at Syringe, who was sitting beside the Changeling we had from earlier.

Both of them looked immensely relieved.





After rounding up and clearing out the POWs, we officially declared the City Hall Liberated from its Oppressors. We immediately began clearing out the Basement and the rooms in it, in hopes to find the PA system - the whole point of this assault.

I stayed with Brass and the others, helping them search the Vault. The layout was what I expected a Vault should be; rows upon rows of lockboxes, stored away in a neat inventory of shelves and cabinets. They were all still locked. But most of the Valuables that happened to be outside of the lockboxes were taken by the Changelings. What they could take, they did.

“Why the hell does a City Hall need an Underground Vault?” I asked aloud, unsure of the practical uses behind this architectural design.

“Maybe this is the City’s Treasury Vault?” Morning Dew.

“It could be anything. But if we can’t find a PA System in here, than this room is worthless.” Brass than replied.

“Brass!” A pony then called from beyond the Vault entrance. I turned to look, finding a Brown coated Stallion galloping toward us. “Nothing else in any of the other halls. The whole place seems deserted, ma’am!”

“No Loudspeakers at all?”

“None, ma’am!”

“FUCK!” Brass cursed loudly. Nopony else dared to speak, as we continued our search.

I kept scanning the corners of the Vault, finding Several overturned Tables that used to be planted on all fours at another time. They were like this since we entered. I found it odd that those Changelings would leave them like this. It seemed unusual.

Something urged me to move them. I didn’t know or see why I should, given that I’ve already scanned this spot three times now… but Curiosity got the better of me. I tilted one of the tables over on its side, causing it to crash down.

Behind it was something I did not expect. A pair of doors.

“Hey, I found something!” I called out. Everypony saw the doors I revealed, and trotted closer to me. There was a control panel next to it, with multiple buttons that had numbers crudely painted on them. It started at -1, and ended at -2.

There was another Sublevel?

“It’s an elevator.” Brass noted. “It leads further down.”

“Okay, is this really a City Hall? It looks more like a bunker to me.” Storm Cloud remarked.

“Only one way to find out.” Brass answered as she stepped into the elevator. She turned to look back at us, as neither one of us moved. “Well, you coming?”





I had a lot of mental images in my head as to what might be in this second sublevel, but I must admit: I did not imagine it like this!

Beneath the Vault was a plethora of Electronic Devices, and Computing Machines - some of them minuscule, others titanic. There were these devices that sat atop of shelves stretching all the way toward the ceiling; each device had numerous blinking lights that lit up the shelves, but barely anything else beyond that.

There was a single screen that illuminated the dim room around as, providing the only source of light in the room. The room itself wasn’t too large, only about the length and width of 12 Ponies. But beneath the Terminal Screen, there was another device. It had twistable frequency and volume tuners, with a Microphone attached to both the screen and the device.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. That had to be the PA System.

“We found it.” Brass muttered. “And some other stuff, too.” She then trotted closer to the Microphone, inspecting the machinery around it. “I need some time to figure out how to work this. In the meantime, make yourself useful and search the room. Find anything else useful.”

We each trotted to our own separate directions. The blinking lights offered guidance away from the shelves so that I wouldn’t accidentally collide with them in the darkness. I kept darting my eyes all over, trying to adjust to the lack of lighting. It was difficult. It was times like this where I wish I was a Unicorn. I bet they would have some sort of illumination spell to help in times like these.

“Holy shit, I think we just struck a Gold Mine! I got maps of Troop movements no earlier than last week, with detailed Logistics Reports on their war effort.” Dew called out from the darkness.

“Yeah, detailed troop movements. This place has a shit-ton of information.” Storm agreed. “I got battle plans, timetables, assigned divisions, and various dates.”

“Okay, I got this thing working now. I’m gonna send the Broadcast.” Brass then announced as I kept searching. As I slowly trotted in a random direction, my hoof nearly tripped over an object. I glared down toward the floor and found a yellowish decal inscribed atop of something. I knelt down and found a single box-shaped container.

Brass then spoke into the Microphone, broadcasting his message. “Ponies of Vanhoover, my name is Brass Screws. Like you, I was a victim of this war, and I have seen what death and destruction can do.

“But the time for hiding is no more! As of now, the Ponies are the Equestrian Army are clearing out the buildings and streets of our city. The Changelings have been routed out in several locations, and are fleeing from the city limits.”

As Brass continued her speech, I further inspected the box. It looked… Different. It had a Carbon or Polymer material feel to it, while also feeling somewhat lightweight. There was a Symbol at the top of the box. It had three Black Irregular Triangles, and three more of the same kind but painted yellow instead of black. They were in a pattern, revolving around a single dot in the center.

“Ponies, you do not have to hide anymore. You are now free! Vanhoover is finally Liberated. May the Princesses smile upon us this day!” Brass finally concluded, as I gingerly opened the box, but failed to do so. I then lifted each of the latches that sealed it shut. The container then opened, revealing its contents.

Inside the container was a Styrofoam padding, with the crevices and dips to fit three capsule-shaped items. Only two of them remained, one of them missing. There was that same symbol from the top, embedded in the roof of the lid. It had writing underneath the symbol.

“Hey, what the hell does ‘Radioactive’ mean?” I asked aloud as I turned to face Brass. She stared at me, long and hard.

“Wh- what did you say?”

“Radioactive. It’s in this-”

“Close it! Close it right now!” Brass loudly ordered, prompting me to close the case swiftly. She then trotted over quickly toward me, while the other ponies looked toward the Box.

“You said it was ‘Radioactive’?” Brass asked hastily. I felt more nervous now.

“Y-yeah. That’s what it said.”

Brass didn’t reply. She simply stared at the box, silently.

“Open it.” she ordered. I proceeded to lift the lid upward again, revealing the two capsules. Brass and other ponies were huddling around us, staring at the contents inside.

“What in the hell are those things?” Pumpkin, just as confused as I was.

“I think they’re bombs. They look like bombs.” Storm muttered.

“They don’t look like any bomb I’ve ever seen.” Syringe noted,

“That’s because they’re not like any other bomb.” Brass than spoke, uncannily quiet.

“... Those are Nuclear Weapons.”
> (A3) - Chapter 1: Respite
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Chapter 1: Respite



“The origin of all revolutions and corruption, and the spur and source of all base morals are just two sayings: The First Saying: 'So long as I'm full, what is it to me if others die of hunger?' The Second Saying: 'You suffer hardship so that I can live in ease; you work so that I can eat.’”






I was finishing describing the events inside Vanhoover, while Bon Bon was beginning to look more and more serious. She sat down in the chair beyond the desk I was sitting behind, her posture stiff and tall. Her face remained a blank expression the entire time, only periodically showing signs of pity and disgust when I glossed over the more Gruesome details. She remained silent as I kept talking, breaking the silence from time to time to inquire me about something

She didn’t seem to mind that I went over every detail. In fact, she interrupted me for a moment to bring in a Unicorn Scribe to record everything that I was saying. They started to record the events of Vanhoover since I had the encounter with Gears. It seemed like they wanted me to go into every tiny detail. It set off red flags to me. It showed me that Bon Bon took her job seriously.

Their reactions varied as I continued to recite the events. The Unicorn remained mostly stoic, occasionally glancing toward me as he tallied the events. Bon Bon continued to listen quietly, as the Unicorn quickly took notes. 

It wasn’t until I mentioned the bombs we found in the vault that made them both look up and stare at me. The Unicorn even stopped scribbling for a moment. Bon Bon’s expression remained mostly monotone and even, but upon hearing about the bombs she froze. 

“… You said you found ‘Nuclear Bombs’?” she asked me incredulously, to which I nodded.

“We only saw two of them. There was room for one more. And it was missing.”

Bon Bon's cheeks were flushed in color and she looked pale. She traded a look at the Unicorn next to her. He was just as dumbfounded as she. She faced me again.

“You’re telling me that you found two WMDs, inside an underground bunker filled with all kinds of information, while you were in a metropolitan area?!” 

“Yes, but as I said - one was missing. None of us had any idea where that one was. We were the only ones guarding that vault until the invasion was complete. By the time we had our reinforcements showing, senior ranking officers were strictly advising us to not to tell anyone about what we had discovered and were to wait for more orders.”

Bon Bon turned away, contemplation smitten on her features. Her brow furrowed while she deliberated to herself.

“Did you eventually find it? this missing weapon?” she questioned.

“... No.” I answered. Bon Bon kept silent. She tapped a hoof under her chin multiple times.

Her head suddenly snaps to the Unicorn beside her. "Get this information to the chief and tell him this is worth pursuing. He needs to know."

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied obediently, as he got up to walk out of the room with his papers levitating beside him. As the door clicked shut, Bon Bon turned to face me. 

“I want to make it abundantly clear to you that as of this right now, what you say in the next few hours is going to be strictly confidential. If I find out you’re lying to me, or if you’re holding back information that is related to this investigation, then you and your lover will be detained.”

Her demeanor made this comment seem like a threat. To me, it meant more time away from Night Light. To her, it meant more questioning and writing. I knew it was futile to resist her demands, but I also didn’t want to be anyone’s puppet. I’ve already done that for years now since the Great War, and I’m not planning on doing it again.

In truth, I didn’t like her. And yet, I was stuck with her for at least a few more hours.

“What investigation?” I inquired.

“The investigation between you and Night Light.”

“What is there to investigate?”

“Finding out what happened.”

“That doesn’t answer my question well.”

“Well in my defense, I didn’t have to answer your questions at all. And yet I did. You have to answer for me.”

I gave her a hard stare. No words were spoken. She sighs.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a leech on your side or anything, I’m just trying to do my job. But you are talking about a missing nuclear weapon. I don’t know about you, but something like that would definitely be important enough to warrant an investigation into National Security.” she gazed back at me. 

I didn't have any defense to that. My only reply was another cold, hard stare.

“Alright look, I'll tell you what. I’ll go easy on you. If you can tell me everything I need to know - and I’ll inform you on what that is soon enough - then you can get out of here before the day's end. You and your lover. You have my word.”

I imagined myself far away from this place, in my home. Night Light sat beside me on the sofa, snuggled by my side. The mental projection was very vivid, so much so that I almost believed I was actually there. 

That only made it more disappointing when I came back to reality. Bon Bon still waited for a response.

“Your word isn’t exactly worth much to me. How can I know you’re telling the truth?” I questioned with suspicion. Bon Bon shrugged with her withers.

“You don’t. That’s on you. Make my word mean something for a change.” Her logic was contradictory to how such an agreement should be made. I didn’t like it, but it was my only option. It was only through this that I can have her listen to me. It was only through this that I can get me and Night Light out of here. 

I just have to play along. I leaned back into the chair I sat in. “What do you wanna know next?”

Bon Bon took the time to think of her answer. She contemplated for a long while, before finally turning her attention at the door opening behind her. 

"Chief's definitely interested." he greets tersely. "Wants a thorough recording of her testimony."

“Then let's get to it.” She ordered, with a fresh pen and notebook in her assistant's possession. 

Bon Bon snaps back to me. “So, in your military history, it was recorded in vague terms that you encountered something ‘big’ during your campaign. Were those WMDs the ‘Big Thing’ that your history was referring to?” Bon Bon finally asked.

“No.” I replied, not missing a beat. “Well, to be more accurate; not entirely.”

That got her to raise an eyebrow. “... There’s more?” Bon Bon inquired, looking apprehensive.

“There was one bomb missing, as I said. We searched the entire building from top to bottom when we found out but it was not anywhere in the City Hall, or in Vanhoover for that matter. We didn’t know where it was at that point, and that was the most terrifying aspect of it all. The idea that we had a missing nuclear bomb looming over our heads as a constant threat was more than enough to get Brass Screws to take this situation with the level of caution and urgency that it was due.

"When we officially occupied the city, we reported our findings to the highest military-ranking official in the area. But when we informed him, we found out quickly that the Bombs themselves were not the only pressing issues.”

Bon Bon looked Scrutinized. “You’re talking about the weaponry that could wipe out entire cities in one explosion. What else could possibly be more pressing than that?”

“The bombs were taken away from where they were supposed to be - the ones found in Vanhoover. And if I’m willing to wager correctly, I’d say that the only reason Equestria even has Nuclear Technology in the first place was because of the Changelings making such a blunder like that! Am I wrong? Well, as it turns out, they were planning on  selling it! 

"The Changelings inside that vault were supposed to safeguard it, but why are they guarding something that shouldn't be there in the first place? Why aren't the bombs safeguarded away in some kind of hidden location away from the frontlines? Why keep something so dangerous and important away from the Queen's watching eyes?

"The answer was obvious to us after we interrogated the survivors; they were going to sell it to Equestria's highest bidder instead - someone most likely in the military. As to who it was, they didn't know... Maybe they already sold the bomb?" I suggested.

Bon Bon fixed her gaze away from my eyes as if she couldn’t bear to look at me. “No, that's not possible... we would requisition it by now..." a mutter escapes her throat. She snaps her head back to me "... You seem to know an awful lot about this.”

“I knew it was dangerous. That was more than enough for me to take it seriously.”

“... Explain then. What else happened that could place itself as a higher priority than Nuclear Weaponry?”

Upon hearing her question, I gave out a long sigh. 

“You don’t realize just... how big this question you just asked is... And the answer to that said question is even bigger.”

“Enlighten me, then. I got all day.” she bitterly riposted. Her mouth was sealed shut, waiting for my response. Sighing, I leaned back into my chair once more. My mind began to wander, recollecting bits and pieces of memories from Vanhoover.






Vanhoover, April 18th, 1014. 13:13 CST.


Stretching out endlessly, the Lunar Ocean beated its waves against the pier of the Harbor. I stood near the edge of it, just a few steps away from falling toward the water. The paved concrete beneath my hooves had definitely seen better days. It was worn, stained, cracked, and cluttered with a variety of small objects - mostly trash. There were also spent ammo cases littering the area.

Sploosh!

Another Charcoal colored corpse was seen flopping toward the water from my peripheral vision. Another Changeling corpse, sinking to the bottom. Ponies were lining up all over the pier dock in broad daylight, helping one another to dump each dead Changeling into the water. This was only one method of disposing the dead. Somewhere else in the city, they lit giant bonfires to burn the corpses. In truth, I was glad I wasn’t near any of those bonfires. The smell that decayed corpses gave off when they were burning was absolutely revolting.

Splish!

I watched as another corpse was carelessly tossed aside in the churning plane of water. There was a line of ponies stretching from the pier to the large pile of Changeling corpses. Each pony worked tirelessly to pass one corpse after another to their acquaintances. Even after 27 bodies, the pile still looked just as large as it did the first time I laid my eyes on it.

Splosh!

I sat on my haunches, my back hooves dangling over the edge of the pier. I stared into the water, and saw my reflection. My face was smothered grime, dirt, and blood. I made no effort as of late to wash myself. And I certainly didn’t wish to do it in a body of water with more bodies in it. My uniform was practically ruined, showing large tattered holes where I was nearly blown apart from. Beneath the tatters were the white bandages that kept me alive for most of the night, and early morning.

My mane - while not worthy to gaze upon in the first place - was frizzy and mangled. The Brodie Helmet kept some of it intact, but it too was also tinted crimson with blood. Bits of green were also seen dotting my body, as droplets of Changeling Blood still clung to my body.

Overall, I looked haggard.

Splash!

Sighing, I tilted my head upward to gaze at the edge of the ocean. The horizon separated sky from water. The sun shined brightly with all its radiance, casting warmth and light upon all of Vanhoover. It felt nice; being able to bask in its warmth without the ever-apparent fear of getting shot. 

This war brought a lot of things into a new light for me. It made me realize just how much of a difference a single press of a trigger can make. It made me realize just how much I took for granted in life. How I was so willing to waste time for such trivial things, like visits to the spa. I missed those days. 

Oh goddesses, how much I miss those days.

Splosh!

More often than not, I wished and yearned for some kind of guardian angel to sweep me and Night Light away. To carry us to somewhere else that is Isolated from the troubles of the world, where Peace is everlasting and Harmony is maintained. To a place where there would be people - Griffon, Pony, Deer, Buffalo, Yak, or otherwise - that would wake up in the mornings and wave to one another as happy neighbors. To a place where Politics are centered around trivial problems. To deal with inner conflict instead of total, destructive conflict. 

I imagined a Hedonistic Utopian Paradise with sprawling urban landscapes. Where competing pleasures run amok, and where our way of life is focused on the pursuit of happiness. Where People could focus on how to improve their way of life, instead of focusing on how to improve someone else’s. Where the civilization that governs this Paradise is founded on love and justice, becoming more hospitable as it grows and refines itself. 

Then it hit me, like a punch to the gut. That used to be our life. The wishes that I mentally listed were similar - if not exactly the same - to the values and policies of the Equestrian Bureaucracy before the Great War. Everything in our past life was seemingly perfect, and yet everything still went wrong. 

Did it truly not matter then, what would’ve happened beforehoof? If Chrysalis hadn’t held a grudge since the Royal Wedding, would things have gone differently? Or would war inevitably find us in its wake over time? Would we fall under the crosshairs of war from a different invader? A different enemy that wishes to destroy us for different reasons? Would it not matter in the end then, what we did beforehoof?

What of our lessons in Harmony, and Friendship? Our foundation of peace and hospitality? Would they be the downfall of our existence? The cause of our extermination? Was the Magic of Friendship truly our weakness? Our bane of existence?

If we had that same Utopia now, and if no war was occurring at this moment, would things still be the same? Would there be another war that caught us off-guard, from a foreign enemy we know? Or perhaps from an enemy we don’t know? Would it matter then? Would it help us any, besides aiding us in recognizing our own morality and ethics? How much use would that be during war? I didn’t know the answer, and I have been at war for the past few years! I felt like I should know the answer.

For a moment, the sights and sounds around me became blurred and nonexistent as I continued to ponder. I struggled to sift through all of the questions and thoughts funneling through my head freely. I couldn’t even remember what it was I was thinking about. My mind was suddenly drawing a blank, as units of information was flowing freely through my brain like an open faucet. 

I felt something tap on my shoulder. “Sunshine?”

Splash!

I was shocked back into reality, the sounds of bodies hitting the water now apparent to me. I quickly twisted my body in reaction, to reel on who was disturbing me. I found Syringe recoiling her hoof away at my spasm. “Whoa whoa hey, it’s just me! It’s me!” she quickly announced, raising her hoof toward her face.

I then noticed my right hoof above my head, ready to pummel her. I swiftly placed it back on the ground, shaking my head. “Sorry sorry. But a warning before touching me like that would be nice.” I warned, semi-annoyed to be interrupted by my thoughts.

“Right, my bad. Sorry.” Syringe amended. “Anyway, Scribe is calling for us. He wants us back in City Hall.”

“Does he?”

“Yeah,” she continued as she turned to walk away from the harbor. I followed pursuit. “She’s calling for all of Brass’s Ponies, the ones who found the-” she stopped herself before concluding, taking the time to gaze around her. When nopony was looking or taking interest, she continued, “The ‘you know what’.”

“Oh. Those things.”

“Yeah. I dunno for sure, but I heard from others that Scribe’s reaction to when he found out was” She sharply inhaled a breath, “not pretty.”

“What do you mean? Is he mad?” I asked. Syringe shrugged.

“Mad? Oh, I dunno. Maybe? Hell if I know. It’s just small talk from the rest of the ponies here, saying that he's mad at us. Anywho, he wants to talk to us about what to do next with them.” 

As we both trotted on, I looked around me and Syringe at the scene around us. Ponies in uniform were checking each apartment, every storefront, and any other kind of unlocked building they could enter to see if there were still ponies inside. As I gazed around, I noticed the tall black spire in the sky again. We found out quickly that the spire was a breeding hive, used to procreate and conceive more Changelings in massive numbers… however that was supposed to happen.

When we captured the Hall, the battle didn’t exactly end then and there. It only progressed into another stage, as the remaining Changeling Garrison continued to fight for every inch of ground they gave up. The fighting resumed for another few hours, before the remaining bugs finally came to their senses and surrendered. The fighting had officially ceased by 5:24 A.M. - that was about 6 hours ago or so.

But the strange thing is: Vanhoover was seemingly vacant. There were a few groups of stragglers, surviving by hiding away from their captors. They lived under occupation the entire time by fleeing to the underground metros and sewers. But those were the only ones. Everything else was empty and lifeless. There were only a few thousand ponies left in the city, which originally had a population of at least a few hundred thousand. They couldn’t all have just vanished into thin air. Where did they went? Were they executed by the Changelings? The thought seemed more likely than them just disappearing like that.

There were numerous teams and squads that were sent inside the Hive Spire on multiple occasions shortly after capturing City Hall, but not before rounding up the POWs from the remaining resistance. The Hive yielded nothing but unhatched Larvae and Hatchlings. It raised another dilemma, on what to do with the newly born Changelings. From what I heard, They were sent away toward the inner heart of Equestria for - what was it Syringe called it again? “Rehabilitation?” something like that. 

It had been about 18 hours since I had last slept, and I wanted nothing more but to find a pile of hay and call it a day. But as duty calls, it bids me to go forward once more. It would seem that sleep will have to wait for me a little more longer.





Syringe didn’t immediately lead me to City Hall. She took several detours to other specific locations in an effort to find other ponies, who were with us at the time we found the bombs. Upon asking her, I learned that Pumpkin Patch, Storm Cloud, Brass Screw, and Morning Dew were already there. All we had to do was find Rain Drop, and Dominoes. 

Syringe explained to me that Scribe announced to others via radio that he wanted to see a group of specific ponies, and that everypony else should help lead the way if we were to ask. We spent the next hour finding the two ponies, before heading toward City Hall. Almost all of them told us the exact same thing: they didn’t know.

Rain Drop wasn’t too hard to find, at least. It was only Dominoes that eluded us. When we asked to find Rain, a random Stallion asked for his name. When given, he snorted a laugh and answered for us. “Rain Drop? Oh, that’s easy! You can find him in any one of these taverns or bars that is all over this city. He can drink just about anything he can lay his hooves on, as long as it’s alcoholic.” 

He didn’t help us point out which tavern specifically he was in, which was no help at all. But it was something to start with, at least. He also didn’t know where Dominoes was.

As we kept searching the different bars we came across, we also inquired other ponies about Dominoes. We heard a rumor that she was in the residential district, near City Hall to the South. We made our way over.

While trotting our way toward Dominoes’ assumed location, we heard a commotion from a small two-story establishment that blended in with the seamless wall of buildings that hugged the side of the street. Bottles were smashed, yelling and cheering could be heard (with a hint of drunken singing), and there were ponies who were unconscious outside the store with bottles lying next to them. Among them, I saw a Teal coat among the group of ponies inside the bar through the broken storefront window.

Me and Syringe made our way over. Sure enough, Rain Drop was here. He was currently singing - with a very slurred dialect - while holding onto his balance with other Stallions that were also singing. It sounded like a gathering of happy drunken bears (if bears could become inebriated)

“Oh hey, shunsine! And - hic - Shurinch too! Aww, you two mares must love me!” Rain Drop slurred.

“Only in your wet dreams, you slob alcoholic.” Syringe wittily replied. “And I hope you’re not planning on getting wasted just yet.”

“Why? Ish Scribe pishing on my - hic - back about the gun safety again? I told him that I didn’t know it was off!”

“Uh… no. He just needs to see all of us, at once. Something important to talk about.”

Rain gave an over-exaggerated groan, as he literally dropped to the floor to drag his body toward us. “I doe’ wanna go!”

“You have to! Scribe’s gonna flay you alive if you don’t.” 

“Ah, fuck him! He’s always leaning on my back about - hic - protocols and shit!”

… What was happening? Just less than 12 hours since I saw Rain Drop, he was acting like this calm and collected professional. Now I look at him, and I see a completely different pony. He sprawled out onto the ground, flailing his body in resistance as Syringe attempted to drag him away. The other Stallions were also continuing to drink and sing to their heart’s content, blatantly ignoring everything else that’s happening. Slurred singing could be heard all throughout the bar, and I was at a lost on what to do.

“Hey Sunshine, are you gonna actually help me or are you gonna just keep standing there?” Syringe then asked, while still struggling with Rain Drop.

“What do you expect me to do? These other Stallions aren’t gonna help.”

“Just - find something cold and pour it on him. Make him snap out of it!”

I rushed behind the tavern counter, looking for any non-alcoholic solution or beverage to pour. I’ve managed to find a large plastic container beneath the counter, filled to the brim with water. It was lukewarm. I doubt it would do much, but I figured I may as well try. I bit down on the lid and twisted it open (regretting it immediately, as my mind imagined that lid being in somepony else’s mouth for the last few years) as I made my way towards Syringe. Rain Drop was still sprawled out on the floor, slurring incomprehensibly. I stood on my hind legs, struggling to keep balance with the weight of the jug. 

“Alright, bottoms up!” I announced as I gave the jug a tilt. Water poured out onto Rain Drop’s Mane and face. He flailed his limbs around us, as he yelled unintelligibly. After about 4 seconds, I stopped tilting and dropped the jug, water leaking out freely onto the floor. Rain Drop was panting as his mane and coat were drenched.

“What the fuck? What are you doing here?” Rain Drop inquired Syringe, much more clear and understanding without the slur in his voice.

“We’ve been trying to get you to get up and out for the past few minutes. Scribe wants to see all of us, at once. Including you.” Syringe answered.

“Ah dammit, I was hoping to enjoy myself.” He muttered, as he got back onto his hooves. He struggled to stand for a bit, wobbling on his hooves. Taking a few practice steps, he then turned to face me and Syringe. “Where is he?”

“City Hall. He’s waiting for us.”

“Okay, lead the way then.”

“Do you also know where Dominoes is?”

“No, haven’t seen her.”

A sigh was heard from Syringe, as she covered her face with a hoof. “Dammit, why does this have to be so hard?”

“Doesn’t have to be.” another voice was heard, earning a ‘yelp’ from Syringe. She turned behind her and found Dominoes standing there, blank expression smitten across her features. I was taken aback as well. I didn’t hear or see her come in. “What? You wanted to see me. Why so scared now?”

“How- How long were you standing there?” Rain Drop asked for all of us.

“Long enough. I know Scribe wants to see me if that’s correct.” 

“Uh, well- I- he-... yes, he does. We’re supposed to all meet at the City Hall sublevels.” Syringe stuttered.

“Lead on, then. I’ll follow.” Dominoes answered, her tone eerie and somewhat optimistic. It had earned a shudder up my spine, as Syringe was starting to trot out of the Bar.

“Alright then, that’s all of us. The others are already waiting for us to get there. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”





The dull colors of blue could be seen on the Equestrian flag, as I was about hundred feet out from the building. It was poised atop of the City Hall, as a memoir to remind those who the city originally belonged to. Both Luna’s and Celestia’s silhouettes could be seen near the center, their figures dancing around a crescent moon and a shining sun. Both of them were surrounded by white stars. I don’t know what the stars symbolize. 

Ponies were flying and running about and around the City Hall, doing… whatever it was they were doing; they were talking to one another, though I have no idea of what; some were busy moving debris and trash away, in a futile effort to ‘clean’ the space; some of them just sat around and did nothing, casually lounging atop of whatever they could find.

"So... Syringe." Rain asked aloud.

"Uhuh?"

"You really do speak New Changeling?"

"I do indeed! I do indeed..." She proudly answered. "It is my second language."

"... I am impressed. I really am impressed."

"Thank you. I thought it was impressive too."

"... So was that your mother's tongue then?"

Syringe twisted her head with a petulant expression, to which Rain returned with an amused expression.

"... Hmh." she replied.

"Awww, come on Syringe, you're not gonna bless us with that maternal blessing you've got?

"Hah. Hah. Hah." Syringe huffed.

"I bet she isn't actually fluent in it." Dominoes smugly joins in.

"I hate you guys." Syringe mumbles.

I couldn't help it. It was too amusing to stifle it any longer, and the chuckles came out. Soon they were joined by Rain Drop as she started to watch Syringe with anticipation.

"Well, come on then Syringe, now's your chance to prove us wrong! Whatchu got?"

"I am not going to humor you assholes."

"See? Told you Syringe couldn't do it." Rain boasts

The former in question was busy giving each of us the death glare.

She clears her throat.

"Sie alle sollten lernen, den Doktor nicht zu verärgern. Und Sie alle sollten lernen, Ihr Geld dort einzusetzen, wo Ihr Mund ist."

The laughter was stopped dead in its tracks. Rain Drop looked flabbergasted for a split second, before shifting to reverence.

"Alright, you win."





My group traveled across the open courtyard in front of the colonnade that dominated the Main Entrance. As we got closer, ponies began to trade glances towards us. It felt like most of them were staring at me, however. I had not bothered to change my attire for the entire duration of the night. I was busy garrisoning City hall while the battle for Vanhoover concluded elsewhere. I never had a chance to clean myself, as my uniform remained tattered and my bandages caked with dried blood - both Ponish and Changeling. We proceeded toward the building when I heard a rumbling sound. It resonated from behind the Hall and was shaking the ground beneath me. Immediately, my mind flashed back to the encounter I had with the Tiger tank. Panic began to cloud my perception, as my body was wracked with shivers and quivers.

“There’s another Tank?” I asked, tempted to move along faster to avoid that thing. "weren't they all destroyed?"

“Yeah, there were quite a few of them in the City by the time we got here. We already took care of them, though.” Rain Drop answered.

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re referring to the Tiger, from last night, right?” Syringe then piped up, to which I nodded. “They captured that thing. It’s ours now. I dunno how they did it.”

“They captured a Tiger Tank?”

“It’s the only Armored Vehicle they’ve requisitioned from the city. Everything else either got out of dodge, or were totalled. Saw the whole thing with my own eyes, even.” Rain Drop commented, as we picked up our pace toward City Hall.

“Bullshit you saw it!” Dominoes spoke up. 

“No, it’s true. I did see it, happened right behind City Hall in the middle of the street. I was on the roof when I saw it. Had a whole group of Ponies charge the thing when it was busy fighting somepony else. They originally wanted to blow it up, but the Changelings inside surrendered. Hadn’t left that spot since then. I think it was also out of fuel.”

“They had a Tiger, and they surrendered?” Syringe doubtfully asked, as we all trotted underneath the stone columns of the colonnade.

“Ran out of ammunition, from what I could tell. Used all of their HE shells and their MG bullets. Only shells that are left were the APCR - Armor Piercing. Not much good against Infantry, unless you can land a direct hit.”

“And you saw all of this?” Dominoes asked, as the lobby came into view. The overturned desks and piles of papers were rearranged and tidied, to the point where it didn’t look like a tank had fired into the room. It was far from neat, but it was better than it was last night. And most of the Changeling bodies were gone too, so it didn’t stink up the place.

“Yeah, all of it. I was fixing to yell out about the damn thing, until I saw the ponies go in and take it out. They shot through the Driver’s slit and then through the commander’s hatch. Didn’t last long afterward.”

We made our way through the center walkway leading back to the sublevel staircase. More Ponies traded looks at us, especially toward me. I felt more and more embarrassed with each encounter. I didn’t look that bad, did I?

“Hey, whatever happened to that one Changeling that survived this mess? The one who convinced the others to stand down?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the averted gazes.

“Dunno. I heard he’s being taken… somewhere.” Syringe answered unsurely.

“No doubt for interrogation.” followed by Dominoes.

“Or maybe Rehab.” Rain Drop concluded.

Making our way downstairs, we trotted through the single door that led to the hallway intersection in the basement. After walking through, We continued to trot forward toward the Treasury Vault (as I have taken the liberty into naming it that.) The Vault was already opened, and there were ponies inside of it. At a closer glance, I recognized some of the ponies in their. Scribe was there along with Morning Dew and the others, surrounded by a few other ponies that had officer uniforms. Brass Screws was among those ponies.

“Ah, there they are.” Scribe announced our presence as we trotted inside the vault. “Now we can begin.”

I noticed Brass Screws nose twitch as she sniffed, only to cover her snout with a hoof. “Ugh, who smells like they just died and came back to life?” she disgruntledly asked.

“Rain had one drink too many. Should be sober by now, though.”

“Shut the door.” Scribe ordered.

“Why? Is something wrong?” I asked. No answer. They simply continued to gaze at each of us, waiting for one of us to comply. Rain Drop trotted over and pushed the door in, with the help of Dominoes. When the Vault was sealed and the handle was twisted shut, they both turned and waited for an answer, just I had been.

All of us were here: Storm Cloud, Morning Dew, Syringe, Rain Drop, Dominoes, Brass Screws, Pumpkin Patch, and me. We all waited for a response from either Scribe or one of the other Senior Officers that were near him.

Scribe finally stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“First of all: this conversation that we are having right now is strictly off the record. It never happened, it’s not happening, and it will never happen again. Understood?” We all nodded quietly. “Don’t nod, I need a verbal answer.”

“Yes sir.” we all replied at once.

“Second of all: What I am about to tell you is highly confidential and classified. Such information would usually be discussed among the High Command Cabinet, but we are in the dark as far as radio communication goes. There’s an antenna in the city that boosts the signal for long range transmission. We’ve recently learned that in the final minutes of the first battle for Vanhoover, the Ponies had deliberately sabotaged the antenna to cut off communication. It has been that way ever since.

“Right now, we have no viable way to communicate to High Command, except for the invasion commander that is out at sea. The plan is to radio the commander of our success and have them reinforce the city with the garrison army that is waiting for the go-ahead. We’ve already talked to them, and they are on their way towards us as we speak. But the fact remains: we’re in the dark. And we can’t trust anypony else with this information.

“Anypony except for you lot, that is.”

Neither of us responded to his remark. When nothing was said, Scribe turned back to pull something up front. It was a large case - that looked very familiar. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was the same case where I had unboxed the two Bombs.

“You 8 ponies aided each other in the endeavor of opening this box right here.” Scribe started, as he tapped the top of the case with a hoof. “Inside this box lies two cylinder-shaped objects, capable of unleashing destruction at catastrophic levels. To put it into perspective,” Scribe delayed his next response by taking the time to open up the case. The same two cylinder-shaped bombs were in there. The middle space for the third bomb was still empty.

I didn’t give the description of these bombs the proper justice it deserved when I first saw them. They were cylinder shaped pods, with a glass capsule in the center of each object. Inside that glass capsule was - for lack of a better term - an energy source. An energy that pulsated, as if it had a life of its own. It was a sickly lime green, and it had no particular shape to categorize it under. The glass capsule was wedged between two smaller cylinders, of which I assumed contained the mechanisms and chemicals needed to detonate the bomb.

Scribe, carefully, held one of the bombs in his hooves. He used his wings to hover momentarily, as he held it in his hooves. “What do you imagine when you see this? What do you think this thing is capable of?” he asked all of us at once. Murmurs and muttering were heard around me, as nopony couldn’t give a definitive answer. 

“I’ll tell you. Pzzt.” A sound escaped Scribe’s mouth, as he moved the bomb up and down slightly. I felt a premonition of fear tug my heart when he gave the bomb a small but noticeable shake. “Dead.” Scribe concluded. 

“Uh, sir-” Brass started, but was interrupted when Scribe spoke again.

“Everypony in this room, dead. Everypony in this building, dead. Everypony in this city, dead. Every living being and plant within a 5 mile radius of this thing as this thing goes off, dead.”

The room suddenly felt more Apprehensive, as a cold shiver traveled up my spine. Nopony responded to scribe’s explanation, and Brass didn’t bother to repeat her previous statement. The true destructive capabilities were now obviously apparent. 

In truth, I was a bit unnerved of the potential devastation that would follow suit after the detonation. The results could be apocalyptic in nature. Such a future would be terrifying.

“And to make matters worse, there’s more than one of them.” Scribe began again, putting the bomb back inside the case. It made me feel much safer that he wasn’t holding on to such a volatile weapon. “One of them is missing, and we have no clue where it could possibly be. In times like this, it helps to assume that the worst will happen. Doing so will allow us to prepare in advance so that such a calamity would never come to pass. And that is exactly what we are doing right now.”

"How do you know about this? How did you learn of its potentials?" Dominoes seemingly repeated what she said in my head.

"We already are scratching the Surface of Nuclear Energy, so we recognize a source of that said energy when we see it. That is all I can tell you." Scribe replied back, the other officers in the back nodding their heads in agreement.

Again, more silence. The ponies in my squad were busy shuffling their hooves, rather then attempt to reply to Scribe.

“Now then. Anypony who is a Private - regardless of what class you are - step forward.” Scribe finished with an order, prompting me, Rain Drop, Syringe, and Storm Cloud to step forward. When we did, Scribe took a long time pacing in front of us. Back and forth. Back and forth.“You four, as of this moment, are being promoted to Corporal First Class. Congratulations.” Scribe finally appraised, with a tone that suggested wry humor.

I was very confused. And judging by their expressions, so were the others that stepped forward as well.

“You’re squad is now being assigned to the Commandos Battalion that is in your division, Brass Screws. As of this moment, you are all now considered to be special forces. And as of this moment, you have a new assignment.”

Brass stepped forward. “So we found what is considered to be the deadliest and most powerful bomb in history, and you are rewarding us for that?” she questioned Scribe’s decision.

“Don’t perceive it as a reward, because it’s nothing of the sort. Think of it as a breakthrough - an advancement toward the next stage of progress in the Grand Scheme of things. But in any case, you will be compensated for your efforts when this is all said and done. Your family and loved ones will be compensated as well.

“We’ve already radioed the fleet commander to infil the Garrison Army, and they are en route. It’’s approximately a week or less before they arrive. When they do arrive, you will all embark upon the first ship that leaves the harbor after unloading. It will take you to an undisclosed location, where you will receive special training for 6 weeks - teaching you special combat tactics to give you an edge over the enemy.

“Afterwards, you’re battalion will follow orders from the division commander. They will give you special objectives based on the discovery you made here.”

“Wait wait, hold on.” Rain began, as he took a step forward. “Are you saying you’re gonna make us find the third bomb that’s missing, when you don’t even know where it is?” he rebutted, sounding peeved.

“I’m not saying anything of the sort. You’re commander will. And we’ve already informed your division commander of your transfer, so you have no say in the matter.”

“That doesn’t answer my question! You still have no idea where it is!”

“That’s your job to find out, Corporal.” Scribe replied with a Grimace. “Of course I don’t know where it is, and neither do you. It’s your responsibility to find it, and my responsibility to help you get on the right track.”

Rain looked as if he wanted to say more, but stuttered as he failed to find the right words. Eventually, he stepped back in line and remained silent. Scribe continued speaking afterward.

“You will learn more about what happens to you lot when the transfer is official. And I want to reiterate the importance of this meeting, and why it should be off the record. There is a Nuclear Bomb running amok somewhere in the Equus Continent, which is believed to be targeting us - if not the Crystal Empire.

“If news of such a terrifying weapon were to be made public, then Defeatism will spread like a plague. Ponies will want to call an end to the war to avoid destruction. And not only will it start a panic in the civilian populace, it could also be a warning flag for the enemy as well. If the Changelings are the ones harboring Nuclear Weaponry - which I do not doubt that they might - then they will certainly use it against us once they realize the jig is up. For that reason, you are to keep your mouths shut at all times. And if you fail to do so, then I and many others will have the authority to execute you to prolong our anonymity.”

I swallowed hard at those words.

“But for now, you are ordered to stay within city limits until reinforcements arrive.Periodically, your squad will be tasked to complete some sort of objective within the City Limits - be it helping to clear the Hive that’s in our city, or just helping dispose the bodies. Other than that, you are free to do whatever as long as you don’t go AWOL. All I ask is for you to fall in line.

“And, again: this meeting never happened, it’s not happening, and it will never happen again. Understood?”

Brass then trotted forward, as she answered for all of us. “What meeting?”

Scribe smirked. “Exactly. You’re dismissed.” Scribe concluded, before inhaling again through his nose. He reeled, covering his face with a hoof. He pointed at Rain Drop. “Oh and, for Luna’s sake, someone give that pony a shower!”






April 19th, 1014. 11:26 CST


Of all of the places that could’ve been flattened or outright destroyed during the battle 2 days ago, I was elated to find out that the Grand Library was still mostly intact. It was located near the City Hall further to the Northeast. It had several halls and rooms connected outside of the Main Chamber. The Main Chamber was a large Athenaeum that had a circular Architectural layout It had a large balcony that encompassed the area around the chamber, with small windows beneath the dome-shaped ceiling. The main floor had rows upon rows of bookshelves, with countless numbers of books in each of those shelves. There had to be thousands, at least. It looked more expensive than the Canterlot Royal Library.

My squad was tasked to occupy the building and to ‘ensure there is no more hidden damage’, which was a their way of saying ‘stay here and don’t move’.

I found that I spent most of my free time in there when I’m not busy clearing buildings or the Hive. We’ve only breached the lower levels of the Hive as of now, still working our way to the top. We found out quickly that some of the Citizens of Vanhoover were inside the Hive, still locked away in a Cocoon as their energy (or ‘love’, as the Changelings portrayed it) was being sapped from heir being. We found hundreds of them so far, and we still had a long way to go. But now that the City was liberated and we had established a secure and sound Salient in the Perimeter of the City, we were able to focus our time and effort on clearing the Hive step-by-step.

Other ponies were also in here as well, casually lounging around as they have nothing better to do. It wasn’t as stereotypically quiet in the Library as it was portrayed to be. That was Mainly due to most of the Stallions, and some Mares, huddling around a specific spot while talking about more… vulgar topics. I’ll admit, my language hasn’t exactly been innocent and sweet during the war, but some ponies seem to take it too far. 

Case in point; one of the Stallions was talking about how he saw such horrific sights done by the Changelings, to the many towns he's been ordered to clear. He talked on about how every single Changeling that was there did not survive... even the ones that surrendered. I tried not to linger on such thoughts. But at least they weren’t staring at me. I found myself borrowing a dead Pony’s Uniform, after it was thoroughly washed. I’ve appeared closer to normal since the bandages for my wounds still clinging to me beneath the clothing.

My time in the Athenaeum wasn't spent with me being idle. I was spending my time reading, picking up just about anything that catches my eye. There was a lot to choose from. From Scientific Logs regarding the fundamentals of magic-infused trains, to Romantic Poems dating back from before the Industrial Revolution. From collections of Haikus and Novellas, to Volumes of Sub-Species history. There was so much I wanted to view, with so little time to spare. 

One section in particular caught my attention. On the main floor, I located a particular section that had a large textbook perched on its shelf. Its title read:




The History Of Equus


Recorded, Written, and Catalogued by an Anonymous Author




The book was filled with about a hundred pages or so. As the title suggests, it looked brief and short. Almost oversimplified, even. There were more books just like it across the shelf that had the same title, except it was mentioning Griffonia instead of Equus. I pulled out Equus, and I read aloud.



“... defended the Kingdom through its early days from monsters, demigods and disaster, and in doing so, they discovered the Tree of Harmony, wielding the magic of its six Elements (Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Magic, Loyalty and Generosity).”

I knew right away that the book was talking about ancient history, dating as far back as at least a few hundred years before Luna’s Banishment. I closed the book, and pulled out the other copies involving Griffonia with me. I then proceeded to trot of to a disclosed location, away from the Dirty and Crude Stallions in the Athenaeum. Flying upward toward the balcony, I sat on my haunches against a wall and opened the on the Textbook about Equus. 


	Chapter 1: Pony Anatomy


“For Archiving purposes, this is mostly written in the year 1007. Most of the Chronological information that is provided will be set around that year. So for simplicity, reader, pretend you are reading this in the year 1007 if you happen to be further ahead. 

“In this chapter, we will go over various excerpts of physical data regarding Ponies, natives to the fertile and bizarre lands of Equus. The name Equus refers to the whole continental landmass, but not to the nation of Ponies as so many often misunderstand. We will go over a general summary of each subspecies of Pony, and discuss the Anatomy of Ponies.

“Ponies are small, colourful equines found across the world, but are mainly settled in Equus. They are generally friendly, peaceful and capable. Herbivores, they naturally fear predators and defend themselves through cooperation. They wield various magic, but all possess minor magic that allows them to manipulate objects and perform fine work with hooves. There are 3 major types of ponies, and several minor ones.”

I stopped reading for a moment to draw in this moment of lull I found myself in. No flying bullets, no shrapnel, no screaming, no blood, no combat, no life-threatening dangers: Everything was still and quiet. Not silent, but quiet enough for me to notice. I sighed contently, able to appreciate this peaceful moment. I resumed reading.

“Earth Ponies have neither wings nor horn, but are innately connected to the earth and land - as their name suggests. They have a magical affinity for growth and agriculture, and tend to be stronger than their counterparts. This practical inclination can also manifest as an aptitude for mechanics and technology, which was especially true during the initial years of the Industrial Revolution.

“Unicorns are powerful spellcasters, who channel spells and telekinesis through their horn. However, most are not especially powerful, and only know basic telekinesis and specialist magic relating to their talent and hobbies. With telekinetic magic unicorns can multitask whilst performing highly dexterous tasks such as needlework. For this reason unicorns tend to be more highly employed as scholars, artisans and writers. Especially skilled unicorns are rare, but can wield incredible power such as shields, healing, flying, teleportation, invisibility, energy blasts and even time travel.

“Pegasi are winged, flying ponies, and have natural magical powers over weather and the skies. They can travel quickly and are responsible for managing weather around Equestria, including preventing natural disasters, allocating rain and managing the change of seasons. Because of their maneuverability they are often employed to patrol and range distances, with the best fliers are employed in elite groups such as the Wonderbolts.”

I’ve heard about them - the Wonderbolts. Equestria’s supposedly greatest fliers. I heard they were sent to special training camps for piloting aircraft. Hell, they even named those camps after them. The Wonderbolt Academy, promoting the best fliers in all of equestria to fight for their home. Once again, I glued my eyes to the pages.

“These aren’t the only variants for the Phenotypes of Ponies, however. There is one more hidden Subspecies that many still refuse to acknowledge, at the time and date of writing this. There are the Thestrals - or Batponies..

“Thestrals can fly like pegasi and feature leathery wings, fluffy ears, good night vision and batlike fangs. They like to work and play at night, and tend to be more introverted, avoiding mainstream society and preferring the wilderness of mountains and caves. Favored by the night alicorn Luna, they are discriminated against in pony society, due to their ancient association with Nightmare Moon, the corrupted form of Luna, who led them in rebellion 1007 years ago.”



1007 years. That was just less than a decade ago. This was written fairly quick after Luna had returned, relatively speaking. About 7 years, approximately. This also was not that far behind when the Great War started.

I then began to imagine what the History Books might say about this war, and all of the trials and battles that it harbored. How much of it would be told? When would it be told? How would it be told? As far as I remember, History determines the winner. And at the moment, it was unprecedented who could win this war. The odds were still even, and could go in either direction.

The Thestral lifestyle had changed since this volume, of course. Maybe this book might’ve been the reason that Thestral Reforms were implemented in the first place. They now had a better education, with more suitable living wages and better social benefits. They still prefer to remain isolated, which was normally why you wouldn’t be able to see them at booming Metropolises like Manehatten, Canterlot, Baltimare, Fillydelphia, Bales, Whinnyapolis, Los Pegasus, and - of course - Vanhoover. 

But Compromise was the Equestrian way. And Celestia emphasized that by granting the Batponies better rights. In truth, I was glad they went through with it. It never really bothered the day-to-day life afterward (before the war, I mean) and everything still seemed normal. I guess it was one of the small victories that Harmony got to cherish before everything went to hell.



“Then there are the Alicorns. Alicorns are legendary ponies who wield the attributes of all 3 races (excluding the Magical Nocturnal Affinity from Thestrals). They age extremely slowly compared to other Ponies, or lifeforms in general. Alicorns can be born naturally from other alicorns, but can also emerge as the result of ascension, a process by which particularly heroic ponies become avatars of virtue and power. The alicorns Celestia and Luna wield power over the Sun and Moon respectively, leading Equestria. An example of ascension is Twilight Sparkle, who became an alicorn after she finished one of Star Swirl's spells.

“At present, only 5 Alicorns are known to exist at the time of writing this. Princess Celestia - as mentioned before - controls the Sun, while Princess Luna controls the Moon. This brings a harmonious balance of Day and Night to the world. There is also Princess Mi Amore Cadenza - also known as Cadence - who leads and governs the Crystal Empire alongside her husband Shining Armor. Shining Armor also happens to be the Father of the newly-born Alicorn Flurry Heart, the fifth and final Alicorn of the world. While he is the father of one Alicorn, he also happens to be related to the newly ascended Alicorn Twilight Sparkle - who cleverly deciphered one of Starswirl’s spells to reverse a magical conundrum that had smitten the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.



Peculiar. Twilight must’ve been one of those ‘Especially Talented Unicorns’ that was mentioned earlier. The rest of the Chapter seemed to go on about various body parts that distinctively differed from subspecies to subspecies. Pretty boring and standard stuff. The part about how Unicorns’ horns were connected to the psionic waves connected to their brain - or something like that - seemed pretty interesting.

I kept flipping from page to page, trying to find something else interesting until eventually skipping all the way to the second chapter. I figured that whatever lay beyond this would be more interesting than bone structures...






April 20th, 1014. 17:59 CST


“Do we have the go-ahead yet?” Rain Drop asked impatiently, as he refused to remain still while hovering behind me.

“Shut it!” Brass hushed him, her gaze fixed on the shapeshifting mass of the Hive Tower. We all hovered at least a thousand feet in the air, as we work our higher toward the top of the Tower. We still had a long way to go, but we were making steady progress. We also keep finding more and more ponies as we continue to climb higher. They both came alive and dead. More dead than alive, which answered our questions as to where most of the Civilian Populace went.

Mass Execution was also apparent. My heart truly ached for these ponies, to suffer under such torment without any justifiable reason other than out of spite for our race. A part of me hated the Changelings for doing this. I could tell others were feeling it as well, given their previous reactions upon discovering each of these ponies.

It was easy clearing the Hive; it’s entirely Changeling-Free, with only Ponies left inside to their fate. Getting in was the hard part. I had never seen a Changeling Hive before, but they were not what I expected… yet I should’ve expected it.

It Constantly changes, like how a Changeling can change its own appearance, as it exists with a solid matter that makes up the structure while also moving and changing as if it were a liquid. As I watched alongside the others, the shapeshifting mass of the Hive Spire still did not present us an opportunity for entry.

We waited for about 3 minutes in the air now, and still no luck. Looking down below me at times, I could also see masses of other pegasi swarming the structure, making it impossible for me to interpret each individual pony at once given how fast they are. Looking above, I saw yet another layer of Overcast clouds, hiding the sunlight.

“This is taking too long. I’m finding another entry point!” Rain Drop exclaimed, as he dove downward towards the swarm of ponies.

“RAIN! Get your ass over here!” Brass yelled toward him, to no avail. She groaned loudly. “Fucking hell - Sunshine, find that stupid son of a bitch and come back if you can.”

“What if you’re already gone and inside?” I asked.

“Then find a way in.” she rebutted. “Just go!”

I struggled not to roll my eyes as I proceeded to glide down toward the direction where Rain traveled to. I figured he would be hugging the wall. I knew who I was looking for; Teal Coat, blonde Mane and Tail. A Stallion like that should stand out, right?

I spent about a minute or so scanning up and down, and all around the spire to find him. It took me a bit, but I finally found him. He was hovering alongside the wall of the spire. I dove down towards him and evened out before I could collide into him.

“What are you doing here? Come to berate me about not sticking with the squad, are ya?” Rain asked mockingly.

“No, I came to talk some sense into you.”

“Talk sense into me?” With his Vickers Machine Gun slung to his side, he punched both hooves to his chest to emphasize. “I’m the one thinking logically here! I’m just trying to find a way in to help these people that are helplessly trapped inside! Is that really so bad of me?”

“I didn’t say it was ‘bad’, I’m just following orders!” I argued, which earned a scoff from him.

“‘Follow Orders,'" he scoffed, "I lost a good friend from doing that. And he is never coming back because of that. Because of my blind obedience, I got him killed.” He seemed angry but paused for a moment to collect his vexation. In that brief moment, he sounded... quiet.

He took a breath and glared at me. “So forgive me if I seem a little reluctant,” he replied dryly. Just at that moment, the mass of the wall he was hovering near shifted to form a hole, large enough for one pony. “Finally!” Rain cheered as he flew inside the Hive.

Contemplating for a moment, I debated whether or not to follow him or to go back head back to Brass. By now, the squad could’ve been inside and working, which would’ve made this trip obsolete, to begin with. On the other hoof, Following him inside would allow me to complete our objective more quickly.

And Rain Drop was right about one thing. Ponies inside needed help and Rain seemed to have the right idea about how to approach it.

I quickly entered through the hole that formed, which immediately closed behind me as I stepped inside. I landed my hooves atop a flat and sturdy surface, made from… whatever material these hives were made out of. The interior was hollow, with layers upon layers of balcony platforms that extend shortly outward towards the center. In said center was a large hole, at least 20 ponies in length. 

Underneath each of these platforms, the Harvest Pods hang from the ceiling dormant and occupied. Each pod had one pony inside of them, with only a select few that were empty, to begin with. 

I peered over the edge and stared straight down into the large hole, instantly earning a nauseating feeling of vertigo despite being a Pegasus. More Pegasi were flying up and down inside the hole, working from platform to platform to help more and more non-Pegasi ponies get down to the ground.

“Hey Sunshine, gimme a hoof with this.” I heard Rain Drop ask me to my left, working to detach the Harvest Pod from the underside of another platform. I gazed all around me trying to find Brass and the others. 

To no avail. Eventually, I shrugged, and made my way over to Rain to assist him. I bit on the hilt of my Combat Knife that I still have and tried to slice the stem connecting to the pod, but it was sturdier than expected. After a couple of tries, the stem finally snapped off.

Carefully, we set the pod down on the floor of the platform. We both sat across each other, the pod dividing us. Inside, we could see the shape of a pony floating around inside. They seemed unconscious. The surface of the Pod was transparent but also foggy. The liquid inside the pod obstructed the view slightly, along with the lack of proper lighting in this place. I couldn’t tell if it was a Stallion or a Mare. They weren’t a Unicorn, but I couldn’t tell otherwise what they were.

“Gimme the knife, I’ll cut it open.” Rain asked as he extended a wingtip over the pod to me. I did, as he began to create a long vertical incision across the Cocoon-like Object. Surprisingly, the knife merely grazed along the surface as it bent but did not puncture under the force of the blade.

Rain swore more than once as he attempted several more times but failed. His eyes drifted down to the bottom of the pod, seeing the slightly thicker but less malleable surface.

He began to cut an 'X' slash at the bottom. It took a few tries, but finally the blade punctured the sturdy surface.

It cut through easily afterward, but Rain cut it slowly to avoid accidentally cutting the pony inside. As he finished working his way down, green goo began to seep uncontrollably from the incision. 

I will never get used to the smell of Green ooze surrounding a pony. It was utterly revolting, unlike any stench I’ve smelled before. Tears clung the corner of my eyes as my nostrils burned. It smelled something like ammonia and sulfur mixing with one another, which did not mix well. It actually felt dizzying to smell that stench again for such a prolonged period of time.

When Rain lifted open the flaps to the Pod, we now had a much better view of who the pony was. A Pale coated middle-aged Mare, with an Azure Mane and Tail. 

She was an Earth Pony, who was in a fetal position as she curled up her limbs like a ball. Her cutie Mark was in view, which was a needle with a piece of thread inserted into the loop. The needle was penetrating some kind of cloth or fabric. Some sort of Tailor pony, perhaps?

Rain placed his head cheek first alongside her chest, listening carefully. 

“She’s breathing, she’s got a pulse, so she’s alive at least. Do you see Syringe anywhere? I bet she would know what to do.” He asked.

I scanned the area around the platform, as well as up and down inside the giant hole in the center. No sight of anypony I immediately recognize. “No.” I simply answered.

“Well, shit. I don’t know where they send these ponies to when they find them.”

“I think its City Hall. I think.” I reluctantly answered, unsure of myself.

Just then, I heard the Mare make a noise. It sounded like a soft moan. She moved slightly, and her eyes opened - which were Azure just like her Mane. She saw me and Rain Drop surrounding her, in a foreign environment that I assumed she had never seen. She was understandably startled at the sight of both of us surrounding her. She flailed around a little, which cause the Pod to tip over and dump her out of it. She collapsed onto the floor.

“Easy easy, you’re safe. We’re not gonna hurt you.” Rain Drop assured the Mare as she stared at both of us with fearful hesitation. She scanned the area around her and noticed more pods just like hers still hanging from the Platforms.

“Ma’am, can you remember your name?” I then asked, kneeling down beside her with my gun at rest. She didn’t speak. She seemed downright terrified about something.

“Are… a-are there only t-two of you?” she stuttered slightly.

“No, we’re not the only ones. There’s more of us getting the rest of these people out.” Rain spoke with a hint of pride. The Mare’s eyes went wide at those words as if she couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“A-are you s-serious? W-we’re… free?”

“You are now.” I answered, placing a hoof on her shoulder. She recoiled away at the slightest contact. She seemed too scared out of her mind to comprehend what was happening. Double-taking between me and Rain, she frowned. 

“You think I don’t see what you sick monsters are doing?!” She yells whilst pointing a hoof at us. “It was bad enough that you killed my family and took… EVERYTHING from us, but now you want to gloat and insult me about it by doing… THIS?!”

“Ma’am, if you could just-” Rain attempted to calm her down, but was stopped when she gasped. She gazed up and saw all of the other pods that still contained ponies.

“Oh Celestia… You, you keep us all locked in… in those?” She muttered, her tone sounding something like Fear. “Oh… Oh goddesses…”

“Listen, it’s not-” I then tried to speak, but was once again cut off by her again.

“Ju- just stay away! Get away from me! Leave me alone already!” She screamed, her voice choking slightly. Then she looked down at the ground, her shoulders heaving. “Oh, just kill me already. Please.”

“Ma’am, please calm down! We’re not Changelings, we’re really Ponies. We’ve just recently liberated Vanhoover about 3 days ago or so. We’re not here to hurt or trick you, we only want to help.”

She seemed somewhat more reserved, but still seemed apprehensive. She wiped a few tears away, as she slowly began to crawl towards the hole. She peered down through it, noticing more ponies flying all below us as they fervorously work from one platform to the next, liberating more and more Ponies by the minute.

She backed away from the edge, looking lost. She was heavily breathing as well, as if she was about to hyperventilate. She kept staring at the floor in front of me and Rain, as we both continued to stare at her.

“Ma’am, we have food, clothing, and shelter at the City Hall. We can take you there.” I offered a hoof toward her, making her flinch away. She stared at me, but not with hopeful or accepting eyes as I had initially expected.

It was anger.

“Why? Why now? Why did you decide to come back now of all times, after they’ve killed almost everybody!?”

“Ma’am, we-”

“They killed my Husband, my Father, my Mother, my Fillies, and they didn’t even finish me after that! They just let me watch, only because I spoke out against them!”

No words were spoken. Both me and Rain could only listen. She was sobbing violently, as she continued to blubber incessantly.

“Th-They wanted me t-to understand th-their pain, they said. Wanted me to- to- to suffer. I don’t…” she couldn’t continue. She collapsed into another Fetal position… a part of me thought that she might’ve been crying like this the moment she was placed inside that Pod.

“I don’t understand. What did we do to deserve this?” She continued to sob afterward, and showed no sign of stopping. We didn’t interrupt her. We waited for her to finish. About 5 minutes had passed since she began to soften up, and Rain finally summed up the guts to approach her.

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can do or say to help shed light on your world right now, but I can do this: I can personally escort you to a safe location, free from any Changeling harm. There will be warm food, warm beds, and warm hospitality among all ponies. We can help you, but you have to let us help you first.”

Rain offered a hoof toward the Mare, who gazed back at him with a cold look. She swatted the hoof away. “I don’t want your help… I-I did, but not anymore. I just want my family back. But they’re gone. All of them. I’ll never see them again.” she stared down as she sat back up on her haunches. She then looked straight ahead. 

“... Well, maybe I might.”

“Ma’am?” Rain asked cautiously. The mare suddenly stood up, and gazed back at me.

“I told you… I don’t want your help.” she muttered, before taking a running start towards the Hole! 

“MA’AM, NO!” Rain yelled out toward her, but the Mare simply ignored us. She then leaped from the Balcony, and spread her limbs out. Me and Rain galloped toward the ledge and gazed down!

“DO SOMETHING!” I screamed at him, furious that he hadn’t moved yet! He was closer to her, why didn’t he do anything?!

“I-I I don’t- ”

“Oh for FUCK SAKE!” I cursed loudly as I dove downward toward the bottom of the hole. Unfurling my wings, I accelerated at a very fast speed. My helmet was lost from my head as I dove straight downward. I had to maneuver and dodge my way around several ponies that were loitering the area. I finally spotted the mare that was falling below me. 

Reaching my hooves out toward her, I got closer and closer. She was flailing around wildly as we rapidly descended to the ground. I didn’t know how I was gonna be able to catch her without her accidentally punching or kicking me hard. I accelerated my dive, unsure how much altitude I had left. 

I reached a hoof toward her when, just as I had feared, a random hoof struck me in my right cheek that left it sore. It knocked my momentum off course, which cause me to decelerate rapidly and fly off in a random direction.

I crash landed atop another platform about a few hundred feet below where I was at originally. Landing belly first along the platform, the wind was knocked out of my lungs which caused me to gasp uncontrollably. I tried to get back up to go after her again, but was stopped by my Physical Injuries. I felt something painful in my left Hind Leg as the Adrenaline finally wore off.

I laid there for about a few minutes, knowing well enough by now that the Mare was dead by now. I was trying to collect my thoughts, processing what just happened in my head as I slowly regained my breath. It hadn’t occurred to me just before I jumped that the Mare killed herself intentionally.

But when the thought crossed my mind, as I laid there out of breath, unable to move, and in pain; I lost control. I began sobbing quietly, hoping nopony would see or hear me. I stayed in that position for… I lost count. Half-an-hour? Full Hour? Somewhere between the two.

All I remember from that night was me crying until someone found me and dragged me out to the Infirmary. Then I remember falling asleep shortly after.






Earlier that week...





Chapter 2: Equine History


	“Equestria has lived in harmony for a millenium under the guidance of Princess Celestia, and now Princess Luna. The nation has faced many recent threats, and prevailed with the Power of Friendship and Harmony. However, in these trying times, the fate of nations no longer rests upon shoulders of heroes, but instead on politics and military might. The peace-loving nation of ponies now finds itself in a new world with foes, not only at their borders but among their numbers as well. How Equestria will approach the troubling times ahead is uncertain, but it wasn’t always like this.

“There was a time once when Equestria had been simple and pastoral, where small villages would congregate together in fertile areas of the land and greet each other by sending messengers to each other. Where they may communicate to one another and establish agreements with one another through old-fashioned Diplomacy. Now though, thanks to discovery of the Steam Engine back in 810 ALB by Jam Wutt, Equestria was launched into a Golden Age of Bold Innovation.

“But some may still inquire and delve back into the past. What was life like back in the pastoral age? What dangers were there, if any? What sort of civilization was Equestria like back then? Were there others just like it, and if so what did they do? For all extensive purposes, we will discuss the Ancient History of Pony Civilization.”



I licked my lips, as I kept reading.



“Equestria is known to be the oldest nation of ponykind, where three equine races united with each other to face a hostile world - Earth Ponies, with strength and affinity for growth and life; Pegasi, able to fly and manipulate the weather around them; and Unicorns, spellcasters with horns capable of impressive feats of magic. Thestrals (also referred to as batponies), who are night-dwelling cousins to the pegasi, were considered by some to be the fourth race. However, they never formally joined Equestria, and their legal status is currently in question as this is being written.

“The new alliance proved fruitful, and great pony heroes arose, protecting the fledgling nation. The wisest and most powerful among them, Starswirl the Bearded, recognized the potential of two young Alicorns, rare and legendary ponies possessing the traits of all 3 races. He crowned the alicorn sisters Luna and Celestia as Princesses of Equestria, tasking them with ruling and protecting the land from harm. Celestia and Luna soon realized their destinies to wield control over the Sun and Moon respectively.

“The Princesses defended the Kingdom through its early days from monsters, demigods, and disaster. And in doing so, they discovered the Tree of Harmony, wielding the magic of its six Elements (Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Magic, Loyalty and Generosity). They established friendly relations with the neighboring Crystal Empire, a kingdom of crystal ponies, who embraced Alicorn rule under the Amore dynasty and wielded the magic of the powerful crystals that grew in their domain, prospering under the magical strength of its powerful core, the Crystal Heart.”



I couldn’t help but lick my lips again. The Bookworm part of me was elated to find a good way to pass the time. I’ve always wanted to know what the History of the Crystal Empire was like, and now I was finally going to get a chance to see it. 



“The Crystal Empire also has its own history. Their origins unknown, the prosperous Crystal Ponies lived in the lands of their lands for centuries. Primarily Earth Ponies, these unique ponies sparkle and refract the magical lights of the crystals that abound in the Crystal Empire. Some studies show that a euphoric- almost a ‘high’ feeling - of love could be felt when standing near a Crystal Pony.

“Everything changed when the shadowy Umbrum attacked, about 400 years before Luna was banished but that is not certain. They burned their crystal homes, preyed on them and crushed their hopes. However, Amore, a pony of love and optimism, discovered the Crystal Heart - a crystal gem of immense magical power. She projected her positive energy into it and with the power of the heart, the Umbrum were banished deep beneath the Empire. 

“Amore was crowned as the first Princess of the Crystal Empire and became a wise and benevolent ruler. The power of the Crystal Heart kept the ponies safe and even warmed the local climate, making it more temperate and hospitable. When a dragon stole the Crystal Heart, Celestia and Luna recovered it, thus establishing friendly relations between Equestria and the Crystal Empire. The first Crystal Fair was held to celebrate the event and became an annual festivity afterwards.

“The trapped Umbrum plotted their escape and came up with a devious plan. They put a shadow pony inside the shell of a young earth pony, which allowed him to resist the Crystal Heart’s love, and sent him to the surface. The weak colt was found by patrolling guards lying unconscious in the snow, with no knowledge of how he got there. The only thing he said was ‘Sombra’, so that became his name.”

“He was sent to an orphanage. While there, Sombra met an eccentric and optimistic unicorn named Radiant Hope. They grew up together and became close friends, while other ponies avoided and mocked them. When Hope and Sombra visited the famed Crystal Heart, they saw visions in its reflections. Hope saw she would become a princess; Sombra saw he would become a monster. He hid this revelation from her and feared it would become true.

“The two looked forward to the Crystal Fair, but when it arrived, Sombra became bedridden and ill. This pattern repeated year after year, but always Radiant would remain by his side. One year Sombra's pony shell was nearly destroyed, his shadowy insides leaking out of it, but Hope cast a healing spell in desperation and saved his life. She gained her cutie mark and was soon invited to the Canterlot School for Gifted Unicorns.

“Sombra feared the visions were becoming a reality; Hope would become a Princess and he would become a monster. He fled in terror to the frozen wastes, where he soon found a red Umbrum crystal. The crystal spoke to him and revealed his origin and purpose: It was his duty to save his people from imprisonment. Sombra embraced his true self and his destiny. He returned to Crystal City, went to the Crystal Heart and attempted to steal it so his people would be free, but Princess Amore intervened. She tried to reason with him, but revealed that she had known of Sombra's vision and his pains whenever a Fair was held yet had done nothing, which enraged Sombra. He turned her into stone and shattered her into a thousand pieces. Hope, witnessing this, fled to Equestria.

“Sombra became King and Tyrant of the Crystal Empire. He ruled over the crystal ponies with an iron hoof and enslaved the populace who had mocked and alienated him in his youth. He planned to release his people from their prisons, but before that plan could come to fruition, Radiant Hope had warned Celestia and Luna of his rise to power. The two Princesses arrived and banished him into the Frozen North.

“Vengeful, Sombra cursed the Crystal Empire, and it vanished with him. Hope was the only crystal pony left and she became a student of Celestia. She regretted betraying her only friend, left Equestria and travelled to the Frozen North where Sombra had gone. There, she found the same Umbrum crystal that Sombra had found, and moved to live among the Umbrum, who kept her from aging.”



To banish an entire empire… I continued reading.



“After the Banishment, The Princesses returned to their stewardship of Equestria. But Princess Luna, given responsibility for the night, grew lonely and resentful as ponies shunned the night, preferring to play and work in the light of her sister's day. She became twisted and possessed by dark magic, transforming into the "wicked mare of darkness", Nightmare Moon. Attempting to impose perpetual night and rule alone, Nightmare Moon confronted Celestia. With a heavy heart, Celestia wielded the Elements of Harmony, defeating her sister and locking her away on the Moon. Terrified of Nightmare Moon and ill omens of night, ponies lynched and attacked batponies, creating a rift between the two societies that would never heal.

“Mournful but resolute, Celestia ruled Equestria under the mantle of Harmony and its guiding philosophy of cooperation, friendship, and trust, supported by careful management of ecological and climatic balance. Peace and calm reigned, and the years grew into centuries. Empires rose and fell, but Equestria remained. Unchanging. Idyllic. Stagnant.

“The Crystal Empire remained missing for at least a millennium. How long exactly is unknown. But by 1002 ALB, Luna and Celestia's banishment spell faded, and the Crystal Empire and King Sombra returned. Celestia sent her faithful student, Twilight Sparkle, and the other wielders of the Elements of Harmony, to aid Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armour in defending the Empire. Sombra, in shadowy, body-less form, attempted to assault the Crystal City. Twilight Sparkle and her dragon Spike managed to recover the Crystal Heart and used it destroy Sombra and banish him to Limbo. This deed made Spike into a hero of the Empire.”



The whole story seemed ridiculously outlandish to be possible… Then again, a war with the Changelings also seemed ridiculously outlandish at the time, and yet it happened. 

I guess History had a warped sense of humor.



“Soon after Princess Mi Amore Candenza (Cadance) - possibly related to the Princess Amore of old - became the ruler of the Crystal Empire with her husband Shining Armour. Most crystal ponies welcomed the Equestrian rulers, but not all.

“Then there was the Commonwealth. In 649 ALB, the first Equestrian traders, led by Coltlumbus, settled on the coast of Southern Griffonia and founded the colony of Celestia. Since then, years of immigration, colonisation and one-sided trade deals have resulted in the Commonwealth of New Mareland, a beacon of Equestria on Griffonian shores.

“While nominally still part of Equestria, New Mareland has its own government in the Commonwealth Congress and is subject to its own laws and regulations. The lax regulations in industry and employment laws, along with the valuable griffon market, lead to many Equestrian businesses setting up in New Mareland. This age of prosperity lasted for centuries, but it wouldn’t last forever.

“The New Mareland economy boomed, filled with ponies of adventure and drive, shaking off the Harmonic stagnation that plagued their sedate motherland. Even the collapse of the Griffonian Empire in 979, which plunged New Mareland into a recession, was unable to stop their determination. Inspired by the battles of their troops against the exotic wildlife and challenges faced in a strange land, the ponies of New Mareland began to take pride in the New Mareland spirit, a unique blend of humour, optimism and stubbornness in face of adversity.

“Traders turned away from Griffons towards Equestrian business, and speculative investors bought big in the hope of big payoffs in expanding exploitation of the unique potential of Griffonia on Equestria's behalf. However, it soon became obvious that Equestrian trade policy was turning inwards instead. On the 29th October 999, the New Manehattan stock market crashed. In what has become known as Black Wednesday, thousands of New Marelanders suddenly found themselves without a job and the nation's economy fell into turmoil. Many citizens turned to Equestria for help, but the homeland did little to help alleviate their problems, instead chiding them for their lack of regulations and carelessness.”



It somewhat peeved me to see this level of abandonment amongst us all. How were we supposed to be a nation of friendship, if we refused to help other pony nations in need? It didn’t make any sense. I had no definitive answer, but maybe this book might.



“Many New Marelanders, now feeling abandoned by Princess Celestia, have begun campaigning for the Commonwealth to seek full independence. This is championed by several charismatic ponies such as Gladmane, Kingfisher and Duke Haygle. However, the newly appointed Governor-General Jet Set still maintains a solid powerbase in the Commonwelth Congress with popular support among the ponies of New Mareland. With diplomatic support from Equestria, he has his own plans to fix the nation and maintain the status quo. The imminent issue New Mareland has to tackle is the economic depression. While many have their own ideas on how New Mareland should recover, some are more extreme than the others.

“Excluding the Nations of Ponies in the Riverlands (See ‘The History of Griffonia’ Page 231 for more information), there is one more nation of ponies we have intentionally left out, as this nation is not part of the United Ponies Alliance, or UPA. That Nation’s name is Stalliongrad.

“Stalliongrad was a new, but rapidly growing nation. By the year 995 ALB, plagued by famine and neglect from the Equestrian Government, it rose up and declared independence, creating an entirely new system of government in the process - Communism.

“Despite robust industrial, military and scientific development, the famine issues have not been resolved and it's leadership committee has become deadlocked. Some even speak of turning to former overlord Equestria for help. How did it come to this?

“The Equestrian region of Severnaya had long been one of the poorest regions in the country. The already dismal situation turned worse when, in year 991 ALB, a dry summer and harsh winter led to food shortages and economic turmoil. Civil unrest grew, leading some ponies to question the basis of the Harmonic system.

“‘Steel Stallion’ was one such pony. He drew on the ideas of an old pony scholar, ‘Caramel Marks’, who argued the need and theory for a new kind of worker's state where everypony would be given equal opportunities and everypony would receive everything according to their needs. Steel Stallion quickly rose to become leader of this revolutionary movement.

“In 994 ALB, the Equestrian Guard responded with unprecedented violence to the growing revolutionary movement. Enraged ponies took to the streets in a bloody battle, routing the guard, an event that became known as the December Revolution, proclaiming their independence as a state. The surrounding countryside flocked to the cause, until the state was in full rebellion. The Equestrian Guard moved in at full strength to crush the uprising, and a brutal grinding week of combat ensued.

“Princess Celestia, appalled by the violence and spiraling disaster, withdrew all Equestrian forces and fired the Captain of the Guard, effectively conceding to the revolutionaries. Shortly afterward Steel Stallion died of illness and the capital of the region - Princessyn, was renamed to Stalliongrad in his honor.”



Another Pony Nation falling victim to Equestrian neglect. I'm starting to see a pattern here. 

Back when I was a filly, we were all taught in schools that Equestria was the nation of Harmony and Friendship, how it had managed to reign absolutely with virtually no problems. 

But Stalliongrad was completely nonexistent to me back then. Not even a mutter of its name was spoken.

Such an act of ignorance and neglect - New Mareland’s abandonment paling in comparison - of course people would revolt under that kind of rule. But to kill another pony for a simple Ideology? 

No wonder Celestia seemed appalled. And no wonder Stalliongrad chose to stay silent in response to the Great War. 

I imagine that they hate us right now. 



“With Steel Stallion dead, the revolution elected ponies to a Supreme Soviet (Supreme Council) - a committee of representatives of the workers. Two ponies and their ideas came to dominate the Soviet - Altidiya Revoltsova and Vasiliy Pentsushenko. But the hardest work - turning a poverty, famine-stricken state into a new nation with an untested political ideology - remained.

“To the surprise of many, Stalliongrad saw success after success - industrial output began to surge, the military grew, equipping tanks, planes and a respectable navy, and scientists kept Stalliongrad abreast of modern progress.

“All of this was bitterly ironic, for repeated agricultural collectivization efforts failed to resolve Stalliongrad's food shortage - the very reason for the revolution.

“Soon, cooperation on the Supreme Soviet began to fail. Hard work turned to competition, debate turned to deadlock, and shared ideologies turned to polarised factions. Altidiya's and Vasiliy's factions found themselves in an unproductive stalemate, and by 1004 ALB the stunning progress of Stalliongrad had slowed to a halt.

“To conclude this Chapter, one thing is certain: if Stalliongrad is to survive and prosper as a nation, the deadlock must be solved.”



It was fascinating to see how different history can view the future in contrast to the present. It already had been solved years ago. Vasiliy won the power struggle, and Stalliongrad continuously grow under the method of Collectivism. Or so I’ve been told. I didn’t know for sure and at this point, I was starting to be annoyed by the lack of truth that exists in this world.

Luckily for me, I at least have some resemblance truth in front of me right now.






April 21st, 1014. 21:39 CST


I was back in the same Tavern that we had to drag Rain Drop out of, sitting atop one of the stools that cluttered the counter. I was trying to forget the events of what happened yesterday, but the Bandage on my head where the Mare punched me served as a constant reminder. Nopony was actually servicing us. And instead, we took the liberty of serving ourselves. And because of that, there wasn’t much left. There was one liter of Alcoholic Apple Cider left that nobody seemed to like, however.

Growing up in Ponyville and moving to Cloudsdale soon after, I knew what Apple Cider was like. And the Apples’ Family Cider was probably the best Cider I’ve ever tasted. This bottle was no exception either. And after about 6 drinks, I was already feeling the buzz in the back of my neck and my scalp. It felt Euphoric, as I was basking with the warm feeling in my stomach.

Mares and Stallions alike would usually come and go here to get a drink and return to their duties. I was technically considered injured, so they gave me no shift or job to work with and instead told me: “No Strenuous Activity.”  I didn’t argue and accepted it graciously. It still didn’t make me feel better about what happened yesterday, but the Cider was helping with that.

I heard noises of roughhousing somewhere behind me. Sounds of Stallions arguing about… something. I wasn’t paying attention. Those sounds of petty bickering soon morphed into sounds of brawling, as two Stallions tackled each other and wrestled along the floor. I turned to watch as each Stallion was throwing punches and kicking one another, while the others around him were cheering or coaching the two fighters. I shook my head. Stallions, I thought to myself wryly.

I took another swig of Cider from my bottle and sighed half-contently. “Didn’t know you were a drinker.” I heard a familiar voice speaking to me from my left. I turned to look and saw Syringe sitting in another stool beside me.

“I’m not. But there is a first time for everything, right?” I rebutted, as I took another sip. Syringe gave a dry laugh.

“I guess so, yeah. Is there anything left?” She asked.

“Vintage Wine from Canterlot Cellar if you’re a Snob; Whiskey from Appleoosa if you’re an old timer; and I think there might be some Apple Family Cider left in one of those shelves.” I answered as she took the liberty of hopping on the other side of the counter and ducking underneath it. After a few seconds of scrounging, Syringe emerged with a bottle of Apple Whiskey clenched in her teeth - another Apple Family special.

She took out two shot glasses and set them next to each other. “First of all,” she began, while snatching the bottle of Cider from my wings’ grasp as I was about to take another swig. “You’re supposed to drink from glasses, not from straight out of the bottle.” 

“I didn’t see anypony else wanting it, so I figured why not.”

“Well, I don’t like Cider. But it’s still a lesson of common courtesy.” She poured my Cider in one glass, then poured the Whiskey in another. She took the Whiskey shot glass in her wings and extended it out toward me. “Cheers.” 

We clinked glasses, as I greedily gulped the contents in one swallow. She did the same, as a satisfied sigh escapes her lips afterward. “That hit the spot,” she mutters. 

“You seem to be an expert with all things alcohol-related,” I noted aloud. She turned to look at me with a cold glare, giving me the impression that I might’ve struck a nerve. But instead, she laughed.

“My family has alcoholism running in their family. Alcohol is in my blood… Maybe literally.”

I gave her a prompting look, urging her to go on. she relented. “My father ran a distillery in manehatten, and my Mother usually stayed at home to take care of me. We lived on the outskirts of Manehatten. They both enjoyed drinking… so much so that sometimes, they forget about me. Which was stupid, considering I was an only child.”

“Did they… hit you, or neglect you, or anything?”

“Not all the time… at first, I mean.” I gave her a dubious look. “Don’t get me wrong, they were good ponies. They just liked Alcohol more than me sometimes. And I can’t say I blame them... much. Back then, life was pretty mundane and boring. They would find some way - any way - to make the most of their time and to enjoy themselves. They would usually feed me dinner and interact with me for some time before getting themselves piss drunk and either pass out, or… get frisky.” The grey Mare looked down at the countertop for a long while before sighing. She poured one more shot, then gulped it down.

“They were a good family. It didn’t last long, though. They kept drinking more and more as I grew older. Eventually, it turned into nights where I would be blatantly ignored. It’d turn into father coming home at midnight reeking of Whiskey and passing out on the bed. It’d turn into mother drinking a whole bottle a day. Eventually, they became angry at… something. I don’t remember, it was a while ago. All I remember was them lashing that anger onto me.”

I listened intently, not interrupting her as she went on. She looked more and more depressed as she continued.

“After I turned 13, I decided enough was enough. I had a good education and was fairly competent, but I just couldn’t live with them. So I left. I packed everything I could, left them a note explaining the reason I left, and I just trotted out. Never came back since.”

She poured another shot into her glass and gulped it down again. She then repeated that same action again afterward, until she was satisfied. I was about to say something to help comfort her, but she continued shortly after. 

“After I left home, I traveled up and down all over Equestria and didn’t do anything else for a while. I was homeless, jobless, and markless. I traveled by rail with other ponies in train cars, as we all traveled across Equestria together. It wasn’t easy, but it was by far the best time of my life back then. We would tell stories, sing ditties with one another, and talk to each other about a lot of things. Things like philosophy, politics, funny stories, past experiences with lovers - things like that. Good times.”

She took another shot. I did the same, listening quietly.

“After a couple of years doing that, I’ve seen pretty much all of Equestria by then. I didn’t know what my purpose was, as I was still a Blank Flank by then.”

“Wait, what? You had no Cutie Mark even after you’ve turned into a Mare?” I asked, shocked at the revelation.

“Well, I’ve known ponies that lived without Marks their entire lives. They live on life just fine. They might not know their talents, but they were content about that. That’s when I realized that you didn’t need a Cutie Mark to shape your destiny. You just needed Grit and Fondness, and you’ll do alright.”

I pondered on that for a little while. To live without a Cutie Mark for your whole life… It seemed ghastly to me. What would you even do at all without a Mark? Just live in isolation, alone for the rest of your days? Do you create your own talent, and move on from there?

“So how did you get your mark then?” I asked, pointing a hoof at her flank. The Syringes were still there, crossing with one another. The liquid was dripping out of the needle of each of them.

“I did medical training while I was in Acornage, before the war broke out. One day, we had a friendly fire accident, and nopony was around to help the pony who was shot in the chest. So I intervened. Nopony else knew anything besides CPR. I knew more than that. I cleaned his wound, gave him morphine, and bandaged him up nice and good. Nothing difficult, really. But I was the only one who was able to do it. I hadn’t realized until after the ordeal was over that I had my mark. When I found out who I was, I didn’t reject it. It felt right to me… I was helping others. It was something I wanted to do. I’ve been called Syringe since then.”

My ears perked up. “Wait, so you’re original name isn’t Syringe?”

She grinned. “Nope. My name - my real name - is Gray Mane.”






Earlier that week…





Chapter 3: Non-Equine History


“While Equus is the natural home to Ponykind, there are other races that exist within the Equus continent. There are nations that are governed and populated by Buffalos, Changelings, Diamond Dogs, Dragons, Griffons, Penguins, Polar Bears, Yaks, and Zebras - who live in tandem with the Ponies to the south in Equestria. Not much is known as to how they originated, and how they came to forming their own sovereign nation. But one thing is clear; their history is almost just as ancient as the history of Ponies.

	“We discussed in the last chapter about the 4 Pony nations, each of them with their own beliefs, ideals, and history. In this chapter, we will discuss the History of the other races that were mentioned in the last paragraph and what their ideals are. It is important to note that not all races are recorded into this chapter, for some of them do not have any sort of Sovereign nation that they originated from in Equus. Griffons will be an exception, however. 

“For all intensive purposes, we will go over only a few of these races, and their history with whatever nation they happen to affiliate with. We will do it in alphabetical order, starting with the Changelings. This will be a lengthy chapter, but an informative one nonetheless.”



I paused. In all my life, the education I had received seemed somewhat biased. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but it started to come to light to me ever since the war started. 

The Wartime Press Act, enacted just one year after the Great War began, gave way to the acts of censorship of various information. It didn’t have to be redacted in order for it to be censored, either. It could be telling lies, exaggerations, or bold claims that have no factual evidence of being supported. I was skeptical if this book would turn out to be the same, as soon as it started talking about Changelings. But I kept reading, eager to find out for myself.

But what do I realize? What was the truth that dawned on me? 

It was that Equestria was already harboring secrets of their own from the moment I was born. From before the war. It had been the peaceful utopia that everypony thought it was, but inside it was rotting to the core. Despite all their talk for peace and prosperity, they failed to save Severyana from war and famine. Despite all their talk of mutual benefit and cooperation, New Mareland suffers from economic depression and diplomatic neglect.

Despite everything, the world we know it is falling apart largely due to Equestria's Apathy.

And me sitting here, reading this book while fighting a war to decide the future of my way of life alongside millions of others against millions of others? 

Those are the consequences of their failure. I continued reading.



“Aggressive, deceptive, and loyal to their hive, Changelings are insectoid pony-like creatures. All changelings possess unique shapeshifting magic. It enables them to shift form, voice, and even size with stunning rapidity and accuracy. They use this ability to fool their victims and drain their love, which is essential for their survival. 

“Recent pony scholars have discovered that changelings are more insectoid than mammalian - hatching from eggs as larvae in collective hives. But beyond that - how their Hives work, the role of Queens in their society and breeding, how they acquire love, and how they think - are up to the imagination as any who travel to their territory will meet an almost certain demise.

“Fortunately for their neighbors, their militarism and aggression caused them to spend far more time fighting each other than outsiders, allowing Olenia and Equestria to outmatch isolated incursions. But all of that changed in 1002 ALB when the ambitious Queen Chrysalis led her hive on a bold mission into the heart of Equestria.”



The Canterlot Wedding. The only thing I remember about that day was Ponyville being on lockdown by the Royal Guard for weeks and me being stuck indoors obeying curfew as they searched for surviving Changelings. I was a young filly back then and didn’t know any better what was really happening, as I remember distinctly that my family kept me indoors during that time.

But what I did remember was that I never saw a few ponies I thought I knew from that town ever again. Some neighbors simply vanished after that day And for the longest time, a sense of paranoia permeated the town. But it only lasted for a couple of years before everything had a resemblance to normalcy again.



“In 1002 ALB, Queen Chrysalis kidnapped and took the form of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza (Cadance), gaining access to the highest levels of government, using her status as a Princess and fiance of Equestria's Guard Captain, Shining Armor. Only the last-minute discovery by Twilight Sparkle (also Shining Armor's brother) compromised the plan.

“Despite being discovered, Chrysalis had been able to feast on so much love that she used her overflowing magic to defeat Princess Celestia and prevent the Elements of Harmony from wielding their power, summoning her hive to occupy Canterlot and feast.

“What followed was one of the most chaotic battles the ponies of Equestria had ever experienced as the changeling swarm descended upon the ancient city. The vastly outgunned and outnumbered Equestrian Royal Guard units mounted a desperate resistance on the streets. It seemed that all hope was lost.

“It was only when the real Cadance, freed by Twilight, turned the love collected on her behalf against Chrysalis, and freed Captain Shining Armor. He was able to quickly repower Canterlot's powerful magical shielding. In one fell swoop, the Changelings were repulsed from the pony capital.

“This battle was the first true wake-up call for Equestria, and would begin to spark tentative interest in military preparedness and practice. Even the Elements of Harmony were forced to engage in combat to succeed."



The first recorded battle between the Changelings and Equestria. I wondered what it was like, back then. 

How many ponies have died, and how violent and chaotic was it? I imagined it wasn’t too different from what had just occurred in Vanhoover days ago.



“This defeat brought Chrysalis to the brink of a breakdown. But she was not defeated, and she nursed her grudge into a relentless drive. She gathered remnants of her hive and spent the next few years in an attempt to diplomatically or forcefully unify The Changeling Lands and its different hives.

“Just about a couple of years ago, at the time of writing this, Olenian scouts and seers begin to report strange sightings - changeling hives that had ceased their internal squabbles, instead building and working together. More organised, more numerous border raids led by increasingly professional forces. The changelings had always been an industrial, technological race, but recent weaponry showed unprecedented advances over their southern neighbours. The modern Changeling Military now features the most developed Army and Air Force in the world.

“It is uncertain what the Changeling’s next objective is, but one thing is for certain: The Changeling Hegemony has just begun an age of aggression and expansion, unwarranted by other nations.



I only had to look at some of the ruined buildings outside of the Library to see what the Changelings decided to do. I sighed dishearteningly. What the book said about Changelings seemed to be true enough, but there was so much about them I still didn’t know. 

I wanted answers, but it was impossible for me to find any more about the Changelings. I decided to continue reading about the others.

“Sunshine!” I suddenly heard somepony yell from below the Balcony I was sitting on. 

I got up and peered down, noticing Dominoes waving a hoof at me atop a massive pile of books that had bunched up in the middle of the lobby. “We have new orders! Meet outside!”

“Alright, on my way!” I yelled back, turning behind me at the two books I had with me. They were small enough to be portable, and I wanted to learn more about what was written in them. 

I had a feeling I was going to learn a lot about them. I stuffed them in my uniform for now, until I could figure out some way to transport them better.

“Sunshine, let's go!” I heard somepony impatiently yell below again. Probably Dominoes.

“I’m coming!” I replied hurriedly as I unfurled my wings and glided down.






April 22nd, 1014. 08:55 CST


The entire squad, including Lieutenant Scribe, were standing by the docks when we saw the first group of Transport hips arrive from the sea, with Cruisers and Destroyers guarding the Acadia Straight, and aircraft soaring overhead providing air cover. Pegasi were among them as well, moving clouds out of the way to create clear visibility for the fighters in the sky. There were Ponies all around us, waving flags, pieces of cloth, and even empty liquor bottles at the arriving ships.

“There they are.” Scribe began, his tone soft where only us could hear among the large crowd of ponies. “Our saving grace. The first ship that finishes disembarking will be your ticket home. I’ll communicate to the captain and find out what his final destination, inform the fleet commander, then have them talk to high command to arrange a meeting at the designated location to get you to Commando Training. Do you all got that, because I’m not repeating myself.” Scribe then asked us.

“I’ll make sure they get the word if they didn’t catch that, sir.” Brass replied.

“Ensure of it. And make sure this conversation never happened.”

“What conversation.” Brass immediately responded, not missing a beat.

“Good. I have to stay and manage this Battalion of Ponies in Vanhoover. And make sure you take note of my seriousness here.” Scribe turned to face each of us, cold and menacingly. “You make sure you get on board that ship, but if you’re not and I find out - I will personally execute you myself.”

I swallowed hard. Thankfully, nopony noticed.

Scribe turned away from us and trotted off in a direction. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“That was something.” Rain broke the silence first.

“He wouldn’t really execute us, would he?” Morning Dew asked Brass.

“He’s done it before, and he’ll probably do it again before this war is over.” Brass nationally answered.

“I never really liked him. I’m glad to be rid of him.” Rain said.

“I’m just glad I can get out of this city.” Syringe muttered beside me, barely audible. I glanced at her through the corner of my eye. The foghorn sounded in the distance from one of the ships, earning sounds of cheering from the ponies around us. I smelled salt and felt warm sun beating down upon me. My bandages were clean and not stained, as the bleeding had finally stopped.

All I remember from that day was clear skies and hopeful departures. 

I also felt fearful for what the future could have in store for me. 

I thought fighting in snowy mountains with barely any action was bad. This was somehow worse. This chase we were about to embark didn't bode well with me. Not one bit.

But I could only ride along for the journey.
> (A3) - Chapter 2: Contradiction
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Chapter 2: Contradiction



“Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least.”







Sunshine Tempest


“Yes, the Commandos,” Bon Bon said aloud while flipping through various pages and images inside of a folder - my ‘File’, I assumed. She then eyed me intensely, her head hanging low. “You were promoted to Corporal first class immediately after the battle of Vanhoover and after your discovery of the WMDs. You were sent to Dodge City for 6 weeks for advanced combat and survival training before you were sent to an airfield just south of Las Pegasus for your next mission. Is this correct?”

“It says so in my file, doesn’t it?” I probed.

“Not everything is true as is written.” She rebutted. “And not everything is written as is true. I need to hear from you to confirm whether or not this is false.”

I gazed at the spread-out pages all along the tabletop. I couldn’t begin to guess what these papers were for, or what they actually were. Reports, maybe? Something else entirely? I had no way of knowing, besides getting a good look at them. I doubted Bon Bon would permit me to, either.

“I don’t remember where the airfield was, but the rest is true. I didn’t know at the time where specifically I was at, given that I have never been there before. And nopony there made any effort to inform me about where I was. Not that it really mattered. What mattered was going through the training procedure.” I answered.

“I don’t need a summary of what happened in Dodge City. I need information regarding the WMDs. Can we get back on track to that?” Bon Bon requested irritatedly. “Start from right after your training. You were given your very first raid after those 6 weeks, correct?”

I gritted my teeth in frustration. All of this seemed tedious and unnecessarily slow for me. The only thing I could think of right now was to answer her questions as quickly as I can and try to get this day over with. 

“Yes.” I answered.

“Where was it, and when? What happened over there?”

Gazing downward at the table again, all of the scattered papers and folders were spread out. Among some of those papers were small black-and-white images of various locations. Upon leaning forward slightly to get a closer look, I recognized some of those images. One image showed the infamous clock tower of Hjortland, the former Capital of Olenia. It had the Changeling flag draped over the giant analog-clock that dominated the top of the tower. At the sight of that, memories start flooding back to me.

“Hjortland. I can’t remember exactly when. I think it was June of 1014.” I answered.

“Why Hjortland? What was your objective over there?”

“Me and my squad were specially assigned for this mission to follow a trail of breadcrumbs leading towards the missing bomb. Or, at the very least, find any information regarding it. The main objective of that air raid was to knock out coastal artillery emplacements along the shoreline, to secure an opportunity for Equestria to secure a landing spot for an invasion. But I would remember being told later on that no such invasion would come. It was all just an act to get me and my squad close.”

Bon Bon was standing for the majority of my visit here in this room. But at that last sentence, she sat down atop the chair on her haunches. Gently, she opened one of the several files scattered about on the table.

“... Your squad. They seem like a weird bunch. Describe them.” she asked out of the blue. I was slightly taken aback by this question. 

“Um... Well, I’ve already told you their names-”

“I didn’t ask for their names. Describe their personalities, their beliefs, their attitudes - who were they really?”

I was dumbfounded for a few short seconds, and rightly so. Never once did she pay any mind to my squad until now. She’s only asked for their names, but that was all. Now she wants details?

More memories were flooding my mind, and not all of them were pleasant. 

“Any day now.” Bon Bon hastily ordered, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

“Um, Syringe - she was... She was the warmest to me out of all of them. Syringe was the closest thing to a friend that I had. She only told me her abusive story of her parents, and nothing more. I don’t know much about her past.

“Rain Drop was a lot harder to cozy up to, but he eventually relented and opened up. We weren’t necessarily friends, but we acknowledge each other’s grievances and hardships respectfully. We also made a pretty good team when it was just the two of us.

“Pumpkin Patch - I didn’t get to know him well enough. I knew he was a farmer in the past, but that was all.

“Brass Screws, uh... She was a textbook example of a leader if I ever saw one. She was firm but fair. Strict when the time called for it, lenient when we were lounging. I only vaguely remember talking about her past. She was a steel mill worker before the war, but that's all I know.

“Morning Dew was usually reserved and quiet, and not really one to socialize. She was nice enough though, and I knew she was one of Ponyville's weather Pegasi before enlistment but not much else beyond that.

“Storm Cloud worked as a Royal Guard for quite some time before the war started. I was told he retired by the time the Changelings invaded Olenia, only to be brought back into service later by the draft. I don’t know much about him, other than he had past military experience. He was usually a dry piece of sandpaper when it came to trying to talk to him: Abrasive and straight to the point.

“And lastly, Dominoes was a weird one. I never knew anything about her life or her past. I knew she was good in stealth, but the mare was an enigma. She hardly ever spoke and would only listen and act."

"And that's all of them.”

Bon Bon gazed at the unicorn scribe to her right, who was busy writing down all of the details. The scribe took notice of Bon Bon staring at her and gave an acknowledging nod. 

Bon Bon then took one of the files from the table and slid it closer to her with a hoof. Peering into it, she scanned the contents inside. “So you’re positively sure that only your squad knew about this bomb?"

“Besides the Changelings that made it, yes. No other pony or creature of any kind knew of its existence save for a few special ones. I think it was about...” I stopped for a moment, counting the numbers in my head. “Including the Officers that were in the Vault at the time, only a small group or so knew about it.”

“Well then it wasn’t a secret anymore by then.” Bon Bon muttered. “How long would it last until more ponies inevitably knew about it? How many would know by then? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? If hundreds have heard about it, then it’ll turn into thousands. Then tens of thousands. What happens after that if the Changelings figured out that we already knew their dirty secret?”

“If the Changelings were really trying to keep this bomb veiled in secrecy, then why would they want to place a highly confidential and super deadly weapon in an area where it could be discovered so easily?” I rebutted, in frustration for being bombarded with these questions.

“That, I’m not sure. A good question, to which your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they didn’t think you were actually going to find it. Maybe they did know you were coming to Vanhoover and were trying to blow you up. Maybe they were just woefully unprepared. But the fact of the matter is that we don’t know for sure.”

She’s Watching You…

The words of that propaganda poster in Vanhoover echoed in my mind repeatedly. The possibility of them not knowing our arrival seemed more and more unlikely the more I thought about it. But then that begs the question as to why only one of them was moved and not all of them? The container had enough space for three bombs, and only one was moved.

What’s even more uncanny is that we never did find that last bomb.

We navigated all around the face of the globe looking for that stupid thing and never once did we actually lay our eyes on it, apart from the other two in Vanhoover. It cost the lives of several of my friends to keep looking for it, yet we never found it. It simply just vanished.

And that disturbed me greatly.

“From what I can gather, however,” Bon Bon continued, interrupting my thoughts. “The Changelings seemed determined to lock their jaws on whatever secrets they had. They were willing to send thousands to die if it meant that bomb was never found. And because it was never discovered, the search for that Bomb is now a higher priority than anything else.” Bon Bon took a moment to catch her breath. “So lets circle back: only your squad at the time knew of the Atom Bomb-”

“Atom Bomb? I thought it was a Nuclear Bomb.”

“Same thing. Think of it like a carriage and a cart: same thing, different name. Doesn’t really matter what they call it - Your squad was sent to Hjortland for a special raid regarding the bomb, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And while the whole Division was there, only your squad knew of the real assignment you were tasked with, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Describe what-”

“Hold on.” I interrupted. “I don’t want to relive every single fucking battle that happened in this war, you know. And I certainly don’t want to relive every small, scarring detail about it either! It’s bad enough I fought this war in the first place, and it’s even worse enough that I have to go through with this shit again! But now you want me to remember every traumatizing memory, every painful loss, and every pyrrhic victory I witnessed - just because Celestia said so!?”

Bon Bon was about to reply, but I didn’t let her. 

“I don’t think me telling you how my friends and comrades died is really necessary for you to learn what happened! Why should I go through all this trouble of revisiting Tartarus for some Mare I don’t even know!? Because the Princess that couldn’t prevent this, in the beginning, is looking to prevent it now?! How come you are only asking me now about this bullshit?! WHERE WERE YOU WHEN IT ACTUALLY MATTERED?!” 

No words were replied. Bon Bon kept his frown for an eerily long time. 

At the sight of that… I laughed softly for what felt like a second. “Are you really that clueless that you have to kidnap ponies from their homes to get what you want?”

I spat on the table in front of her.

"How about you go fuck yourself?" 

Bon Bon lunged forward without warning, as I failed to react quickly enough in time to block her strike. 

She had gotten a good punch on me as I tumbled out of my chair and lay sprawled out on the floor, still conscious though I was hearing birds.

There was a sound of a door opening followed by muffled voices. Soon, more hoofsteps followed. I then felt an uncomfortable force pull me upwards, my forehooves being dragged. My vision was swimming and I could only catch occasional glances at what was happening. I found myself being forcefully sat into the metal chair haunches first with my front hooves cuffed.

“You really got some nerve.” Bon Bon sharply retorted, grabbing my attention as I noticed two more Ponies entering the room; the two agents that grabbed me and Night Light in the first place. I gritted my teeth. 

“You think I actually enjoy doing this? I fucking hate it! I hate it just as much as you. But we are talking about a nuclear bomb, Sunshine. A NUCLEAR FUCKING BOMB!” She yelled with such a volume that her voice reverberated across the walls of this blank room at least once. 

“A bomb that can wipe out an entire city and leave the area within an 8-kilometer radius uninhabitable for years to come! A bomb that can kill up to 100,000 ponies within a single blast, and that’s not counting the fallout that occurs afterward! A bomb so terrifying and destructive that it defies the laws of nature!

“Why else would Celestia order me to probe you? Why else would you be here, right now? I’m trying to prevent a potential apocalypse, Sunshine - do you even realize what’ll happen if a bomb like that were to detonate in the Crystal Empire? Or in Stalliongrad? Or - Luna forbid - in Equestria itself? What do you think will happen then?!"

I didn’t respond.

“I’ll tell you what’ll happen: they will retaliate. If the Alicorn Princesses do not wish to, the ponies who had suffered most certainly will. If this bomb goes off in Equestria I can almost GUARANTEE you, Sunshine, that they will want retaliation. But who will they target?

“And by that point, all that can be said will be: ‘what‘s another dropped bomb?’ It’ll be another war, Sunshine. Another catastrophe in the making. Do you seriously think that your happiness is more important than the safety and happiness of tens of millions of other ponies!?”

The unicorn scribe didn’t bother trying to record that part of the conversation. He was taken aback by the outbursts from both me and Bon Bon.

“I don’t like to do what I do, but I do it anyway because somepony has to cross the line - to ensure that the line remains there when morning comes. And that someone is me. I don’t have time for sentimentalities or sematics. I only care about the task at hoof, and the lives of Millions of ponies should that bomb fall into the wrong hooves!”

“The Changelings are Demilitarized, though!” I finally yelled, leaning forward in my binds. “Chrysalis is dead, the Changeling Hegemony is in shambles, and the hives are in no position to fight back! Even if Thorax was crazy enough to change sides in an instant like that, I seriously doubt that they would be responsible for it - especially considering the consequences that it could bring for what they have already done!"

Bon Bon didn’t immediately reply. She instead shortly flipped through the pages of another file that scattered along with the table. The Unicorn Scribe took this moment of silence to finish recording the conversation that had just occurred. 

“You were there at Vesalipolis.” Bon Bon muttered, after remaining speechless for so long. “And in Soryth. And in Ditrysium. And countless other places. You were everywhere.”

Now it was my turn to remain silent. Of all the things she could’ve found in that damned file…

Shit!

“You should know more than anypony, Sunshine, that even in the face of inevitability there are those desperate enough to resist all the way until the end.”

“All the more reason to-”

Bon Bon had enough of what I was saying apparently, as she violently slammed her hooves on the face of the table. “We don’t have fucking TIME for this, Sunshine!!” she yelled, silencing both me and the Unicorn beside her. “The more we argue about this, the more time we are wasting trying to find this thing! We can’t focus on such foalish things, Sunshine! Just-” she took a moment to raise a hoof over herself, then exhaled loudly as she lowered the hoof in an effort to calm down.

“Alright, here. I’ll make this easier for you.” Bon Bon finally spoke, her tone only slightly softer compared to before. “Spring of 1013, the Changelings crossed the Shire River. By that time, the Changelings have grown wise to our bullshit and are now rolling along the countryside as they plow through our defensive lines.

“They made about 500 or so kilometers of progress on the other side of the river. They also pushed further into the Crystal Empire as well, stopping just 50 kilometers to the west of Ponytown. When Equestria settled in again with their new defensive positions, all progress was stopped. Las Pegasus was still badly damaged and under dilapidation from the various air raids it suffered, meaning we had to move our aircraft production elsewhere. That was initiated in early 1013. By late winter that same year, we had fully relocated our aircraft industry.

“When our air industry was restored, we put it to good use. We‘ve managed to stall the Changeling offensive just west of Marechester. They were still trying to push toward Canterlot, but the northern front was dormant. In response, our aircraft were tasked to defend the Equestrian Heart at all costs. And it barely worked.

“By spring of 1014, we commenced something called 'Operation: Lavender.' We pushed them back all the way back to the Shire River, stopping just short of the town of Shire itself. The lines were still again. 

"But we still didn’t use the aircraft as effectively as we should’ve during that offensive, because there was something else going on at the time... Something else preventing that from happening. So we instead resulted in digging in once more.” Bon Bon finally concluded. 

“Like what? What was stopping you?”

“Something big. Something that your lover, Night Light, just happens to know plentifully about.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“How should I know? I'm not interrogating her.” Bon Bon answered. 

I groaned in frustration. “Your tendency to dodge my questions is starting to annoy me.” I muttered.

“Your tendency of being uncooperative is already annoying me.” Bon Bon rebutted.

For a very brief moment, the room was dead silent, save for the sound of a pencil scribbling on paper. The scribe was working hard and fast, not once stopping for a break as he recorded the conversation that me and Bon Bon were having.

“Anyways, as I was saying; because we had no aircraft, we had to use the next best thing: Pegasi. We commenced airborne operations with your divisions all across the Equus Continent ever since then. And that’s where you come in. Operation: Cloud was what Vanhoover was. Operation: Colt was what Hjortland was. And so on and so forth.

“Now, here is the important part - and here is where it gets uncanny for you, Sunshine.” Bon Bon taps the manila folder on the table with a heavy thud. 

“Every. Single. Airborne. Operation... Involves you and your rag-tag group of squadmates. And you are going to explain every single one of them, and only them.”

I stared at all of the scattered papers in front of me once more. 

“How come I don’t remember any of this - this 'Operation: Lavender' thing? I was still in the Ruby Mountains when it all happened. The enemy had made no such attack on us back then.”

“They did not, you’re correct. The Mountains were left untouched because the Changelings supply lines were stretched too thin. But the land around Mead Lake, Las Pegasus, and Twisted Tail Valley were under heavy attack at the time.”

“It doesn’t answer my question still, something you seem to do a lot.” I replied harshly. Bon Bon contemplated for a moment, possibly choosing her next words cautiously. 

“Equestrian High Command has always struggled to figure out a way to transform pacifistic ponies into seasoned veterans who were willing to charge into battle and fight without hesitation. We would do whatever is necessary to ensure that this war was a war we must win. That being said, they couldn’t afford to have their troops questioning the officers’ authority, or competence. So they had to implement…” she tapped a hoof on her chin for a moment, her expression morphed into contemplation.

“Think of it as an information quarantine.” she amended. “If ponies heard about the losses we were experiencing, or if they heard that Canterlot was theoretically about to be besieged, then it would’ve hindered their morale substantially. They had to keep their soldiers in line and combat-ready at all times. Even if it meant lying to them.”

I didn’t respond to that. The thought of living in a world where all of this was not only possible but also a reality saddened me greatly.

“Now, back to the task at hoof.” Bon Bon broke the silence. “You were deployed to Hjortland as a part of a commando detachment for a special raid. Only your squad was tasked to finding any hint of information regarding this bomb. So what happened over there?”

My mind began to wander back to the past once more...






Undisclosed Airbase, June 9th, 1014. 06:46 CST


My eyesight followed a lone bird that was soaring way above us, flying North. I didn’t have the knowledge to interpret what kind of bird it was, I  knew it was flying away from its winter habitat flying to more temperate horizons. It was kind of hard to see it at the dawn of the morning. Though Celestia hadn’t raised the sun properly yet, her radiant light was still breaking above the horizon, dimly illuminating the sky in a Cerise glow.

I shook my head, averting my gaze back toward the grassy ground, standing in a single-file line that was leading towards a twin-engine aircraft parked along the runway. Sitting in front and behind the plane were more aircraft just like it, each of them boasting a line of ponies waiting to be embarked. There were about a hundred or so of these planes, each of them carrying a full load as the aircraft were placed in a parallel formation from one another; side to side, all of them facing one direction.

The sounds of engines sputtering to life, ponies chatting with one another as they boarded their assigned planes, and officers barking names for roll call. It was chaotic, but it was controlled chaos. 

Not as chaotic as going through Commando Training, however. 

Commando Training was - without a doubt - the worst experience I’ve ever had with other ponies. Basic Training was bad enough, having officers yell at you constantly while overexerting yourself is even worse, and having the weather to be engineered against you by other Pegasi as you were going through the grueling exercises was even worse still. But to do all of that, and to be sent back out there again, only to be acquainted with the fact that you are likely going to be spending the rest of your very short life in some of the most inhospitable and hostile places on the planet with your missions and are expected to succeed? With failure not being an option?

They taught us many things during those six weeks. But out of all the lessons I've retained, there is one lesson I had learned that stuck with me to this very day.

I learned to hate. I learned to hate those that stood in my way. I learned to hate the drill sergeant that told me to eat mud and die. I learned to hate the Changelings for making me go through this in the first place because of their wanton desire for conquest. I learned to hate whatever tried to stop me from moving forward.

And through that lesson, I learned that spite is the best motivator you can ever possess. 

Because I was a coward.

I was scared of what would happen when I finally crossed the line of no return. 

I was scared of dying alone and in pain. 

I was scared of my enemies' capabilities. 

I was scared of losing Night Light.

I was scared of losing everything.

But now? Though the fear never left, it did coexist with another sensation. 

Because there has never been a more potent motivator for me than the contempt for death itself.

A lesson that would both save my life and cost me my soul.

“This is a really slow line.” Rain Drop griped in front of me.

“I prefer a few extra minutes of peace instead of sitting in a plane, cramped, possibly waiting to die,” Syringe answered behind me nationally.

“Taking too long.” I heard Rain Drop mutter. I kept my mouth shut to avoid the conversation. 

About five minutes had passed before we were finally boarding our plane. It was just like how Syringe had mentioned it; Cramped. 

The passenger area was a long and narrow walkway between two long rows of poorly made cushioned seats, with tether ropes connecting ponies to the roof of the plane should they happen to fall off. However, those contraptions were for non-pegasi ponies, as we could just hover in place with our wings should we fall out of the aircraft.

The possibility of us dying, however, was quite moderate - and not just because we were about to fight Changelings behind their lines. These were newer state-of-the-art Transport planes with an extended range that had just arrived out of commissions. But the ponies constantly talked about how unreliable these aircraft actually were, and how they were prone to mechanical failure in mid-flight. The chances of failure, while we were flying, were apparently high. 

Though I couldn’t say it was an actual high probability of failure, it definitely could happen to anypony on this trip. But the only way we could reach Hjortland was with these aircraft, so we had no choice but to fly in them. We would also have to rely on flying toward Vanhoover by ourselves if we wished to escape from Hjortland, should things go south.

In other words, from the moment we jump out of these planes, we are officially on our own.

I followed Rain Drop towards a spot of seats that had enough space for me, Syringe, and Rain Drop to sit close by. I scanned the whole cabin of seats to find Dominoes, Brass, Pumpkin Patch, and Morning Dew. Of course, they were coming with us. We had a different objective among these other ponies. For one, only us few knew of the Nuclear Weaponry that’s running amok somewhere in the world. The basic objective for everypony participating in this raid was to destroy the Radar Station that was planted in Hjortland. Apparently, High Command wanted to establish some sort of Naval Supremacy along the coastline, in the hopes of conjuring a Naval Invasion in the former country of Olenia. Or so I’ve heard.

“It smells pungent. I can almost taste the ammonia.” Syringe muttered again.

“Somepony’s scared pissless, then.” Rain replied.

“Ugh. I just hope this ride won’t take long.”

“Me too,” I spoke up as I continued scanning, I eventually found the rest of our squad, who were all sitting beside one another while having an idle conversation. They were somewhat in the middle, while I was towards the nose.

“We’re taking off in 2!” a pony yelled across the cabin from the front of the craft to announce us. He stepped back inside the doors leading toward the cockpit.

I looked over to my left and saw Rain Drop staring into space. He seemed completely torn from reality as if he was daydreaming. I tapped his whither, which snapped him out of his trance.

“Can I ask you something?” I spoke. He sighed as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again to gaze toward me. 

“What?” 

“Um…” I hesitated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…” I pondered on how I should ask this. But that didn’t really matter, as there were idle conversations all around us, dulling the volume of my voice. I doubt that all of them would hear us. Still, I was unsure how to approach this conundrum.

“But what?” Rain prompted me to speak. I took a breath.

“How did your friend die?”

Wow, Sunshine, subtle. Very subtle.

He didn’t respond. Not immediately, anyway. He stared at me with that same expression he had before, unchanging. Slowly, he looked forward again and gave out a big breath. “Whew; when you pick one you pick the big one, huh?”

“Uh… I didn't mean… it’s just, well…” I stuttered, trying to find my words. Rain Drop patiently waited for me this time. I took another breath. “When we were in Vanhoover, you mentioned something briefly about a dead friend… because of your 'blind obedience.' What did you mean by that?”

“What do you think.” he spoke evenly. It didn’t sound like a question. 

“Uh… did… did you leave him behind, or… something?” I asked pathetically.

Rain scoffed at that question as if he was disgusted. “No, that’s not what happened,” he spoke just as evenly as before. “I just… made a... fatal mistake, that’s all.”

“But-”

“Look, Sunshine, let me tell you something.” he began, interrupting what I was gonna say. “If we were best pals, or if I’m on death’s bed and I knew I was done for, or if I’m piss drunk trying to drown my sorrows - maybe then I’ll tell you. But right now, I’m just trying to get this day over with. And I certainly don’t want to talk about my woes right now. So please leave me alone.” he concluded disgruntledly as he leaned back against the wall of the aircraft, closing his eyes. 

“Sorry if I offended you.” I meekly apologized.

“Offend me?” He gave out a long chuckle, which sounded hollow and dead. Like it was fake laughter and not real laughter. “There isn’t a thing in the world that can offend me, Sunshine.” he paused. “You ever heard the saying: Out the lava and into the frying pan?”

I nodded. 

“Well if there was a moral to my story, I guess that would be it.”






Skies over Hjortland, June 9th, 1014. 13:11 CST


The Twin-Engine plane I was riding was carrying the same squad I had known well since Vanhoover. We were all sitting next to one another, either looking at each other or looking outside through one of the windows to gaze at the sky around us. The aircraft shook violently on numerous occasions as a result of turbulence that was plaguing our craft.

We’d been flying together, cramped in this little compartment for hours. All of us were wearing the same new uniform, which was distinctly different than the uniforms that every ‘regular’ soldier was wearing. The standard-issue uniform came in two variants - with and without hind-leg clothing. Either way, they were both the same: They had a polymer-cotton fabric, with magic woven seams to prevent extensive damage. Each uniform was enchanted to resist any of the natural elements, such as rain, snow, ice, mud, sand, sleet, clay, and so on.

The Commandos had different uniforms, compared to the standard rifle grunt. They were tailored and camouflaged in the same pattern as the standard issue ones, except they had an especially higher resistance to the elements.  They also were made with a softer, more silky uniform for added comfort. In addition, they were also fire retardant. But that shouldn’t encourage anyone to waltz into a house in flames and expect to come out unscathed. Only the uniforms were fireproof, but the ponies inside of them were not.

There was also an insignia embroidered onto the left whither of each uniform, which was the emblem of the Commandos. The insignia had a silver-white shield, with a long broadsword pointing its blade downward behind the shield. Painted on the shield was the Sun and the Moon, orbiting around each other in a constant cycle of movement (If insignias could move, the Sun and Moon would be moving clockwise circularly, in tandem with one another). There was the motto of the Commandos stitched under the shield, and it read: 




To free the Oppressed.




Below that insignia, there was a band of colored tape that was locked in place around the foreleg of everypony’s uniform. Everypony had a tape, but some were of different colors. I looked around the cabin and found tapes with the colors blue, yellow, silver, pink, magenta, and red.

My eyes wandered and stared through the window behind me, as I saw giant monoliths of white clouds drifting aimlessly through the blue haze of the sky. We were about one kilometer up high in the air or so, just barely below the cloud cover. Off to the side of our craft were other aircraft just like ours. There were about 60 or more of these planes in the sky with us, flying toward the same objective. We’ve been escorted by friendly planes for the first hour or so of the journey from the airfield. No interceptor came after us the whole way through. After the escorts left us, we’d been on our own for hours across an open Ocean. The sight was beautiful to look at when we weren’t busy fearing for our lives, but it got boring and mundane after the second hour.

Flying toward Hjortland was our goal. Brass Screws was given orders by her superiors back in the airbase before we took off, and has told us that she will relay those orders when we were over our target destination. I knew somewhere in my mind that the real objective that my squad had was especially related to the Bombs that we found under the Vault. When they were carefully extracted out of Vanhoover, we were told to find the last one at all costs.

It was like we were being sent on a wild goose chase, one that could yield us absolutely nothing and could very well end our lives. Like finding a needle in a barn full of hay. But we had no choice. It was either this or face prosecution and worse. We may as well be writing our epitaphs.

The door leading to the Cockpit slid open, revealing the co-pilot. “We’re 5 minutes out of the target area. Ready up!” he announced. Each of us proceeded to gather our bearing and our wits, steeling our resolve for the task ahead. The door slid open again, revealing the only officer in this plane.

“Alright, listen up! You’re all briefed on who to follow, and where to land, but listen closely! Should you happen to be separated, your squad leaders will pop a colored flare to reveal their location. You will have a window of 3 minutes to get there before the flare goes out. Depending on the color of tape you have will depend on what color of flare you should be looking for.” I gazed down at my foreleg, and sure enough, I found a magenta-colored tape that was encircling my arm. 

“I will now brief you on the task ahead. We are raiding the city of Hjortland, for we have acquired intelligence that the enemy is Harboring a radar station in the vicinity. We are moving in to eliminate the station, and to fly back towards the airfield in Vanhoover for exfil. After that, we’re on our own.”

Ponies shifted in their seats, yet none of them said a word. Each of them looked calm and collected, despite the very real possibility that they would die. “I know this is a tall order, but High Command wouldn’t have issued this order if they lacked faith in us. They expect no less from the Commandos, and we’re going to prove it to them that we are capable of these kinds of missions!” The officer concluded encouragingly. Nopony didn’t react and instead were silent, waiting for real orders.

“Right, well, we’re approaching the area in a few minutes. Pegasi - You all know where to land, who to meet up with, and you all know the passcode - correct?”

A bunch of heads started nodding, each of them mute. 

"Outstanding! Ready up, we’re jumping in 3!” 

A thunderous boom shook the aircraft immediately afterward, causing everypony to tense up. The aircraft groaned in exertion and shook for a moment, before calming down. 

This was followed by another boom. And another. And another.

I gazed out through one of the windows and found hundreds of tiny black clouds littering the sky all around us, erupting and dissipating at such a rapid rate it was hard to keep up. Flak guns were firing at us now, trying to score some kind of hit. The plane that was carrying all of us was shaking violently at the amount of flak there was but was otherwise unscathed. I kept jittering in my seat at all of the tiny explosions.

“Everypony hang on to something!” Brass called out while standing on her hind legs, grabbing a hold of the handle to the cabin door with her hooves. (Don’t ask me how, because I don’t even know.)

The lights on the ceiling changed color. The bulb was flashing red all around inside the belly of the plane, signaling that it was time to prepare for exfil. Earth Ponies and Unicorns sat up individually first, attaching the tether ropes to themselves as they trotted slowly towards the front of the plane. 

The co-pilot revealed himself again and was now standing beside the cargo door along the starboard side. 

“Officers jump first, then Pegasi!” The co-pilot yelled over the sound of flak and engines rumbling. 

I gazed at the window again, peeking just in time to see a flak cloud obliterate a piece of hull from a neighboring Transport plan. Charred metal along with a gaping hole in the port side caused the craft to dangerously list in one direction. It peered off so violently that it crashed nose-first into another plane. The two aircraft were now twisted, deformed, and burning as they both descended down rapidly. Nopony managed to get out of either of them. 

My heart sank at the sight. Unlike the last time in Vanhoover, Princess Luna wasn’t here to encourage us. All of that special training for those ponies - all for naught.

“One minute!” the co-pilot yelled. More non-pegasi ponies began lining up along cabin door, eagerly waiting for the go-ahead. “When its time, focus on getting out of the plane and getting to your positions! We have a small window of time, so make it count!” 

Ponies all around us were patting our pockets, saying prayers, checking weapons, and steeling our resolve. Rain Drop remained stoic and silent, while Syringe was busy getting ready. The line of ponies blocked my view of the others. 

More flak clouds dotted the sky, some of them too close for comfort.

“Thirty seconds! Stand up!"

Simultaneously, the 50 or so ponies on this plane stood up and were waiting for the magic words. More Flak clouds shook the plane as some ponies lost balance. 

The light along the ceiling changed color again, this time tinting the interior with a green glow, as the Co-pilot shouted with thunderous fury.

“GO GO GO!” he bellows while waving his hoof towards the door. Ponies began to jump out one by one. 

Gazing out the window again, I saw large parachutes trailing from various ponies as they ejected themselves out of the aircraft. Flak clouds continue to dot around us, some of them barely missing. There were at least a few hundred chutes in the sky.

Turning my head back toward the interior, the line of ponies was shrinking rapidly. I stood on my hind legs, wobbling from fear and from the shaking aircraft. The first Pegasi that jumped was Brass, and she wasted no time getting out of the plane. 

As the line shrunk, so did my resolve. I couldn’t help but feel an intense sensation of dread tightening its vices around my heart. 

The pony in front of Rain jumped. Then Rain jumped. Then I jumped.

The sensory overload invading my brain was overwhelming: The bright sunlight pouring upon my face, feeling both warm and oppressive; sounds of aircraft and flak explosions surrounding me; the smell of dried gunpowder as a byproduct of flak clouds; the sight of a desolate city, occupied only by its oppressors; the brisk sensation of wind beating against my coat, skin, and eyes - Everything around me was precise, yet muffled as I was wracked with fear, adrenaline coursing my veins.

It took an effort to glide my way down towards the city, as I had to dodge and weave my way around a few falling parachutes and even a flaming wreck of a transport plane that was going down. 

The Paratroopers were easy targets for the Changelings. They were falling down too slowly, and their chutes were too wide for them to be inconspicuous. Some of the Flak Guns seemed to be deliberately targeting their chutes, causing them to fall and land with fatal haste. 

My sense of sound was somewhat hindered during the flight, as everything sounded like I was underwater. But as I glided closer to the ground while following Rain Drop, I felt my senses coming back to me. 

The moment my hooves touched down on the cracked and weathered concrete, my hearing returned to me in full. I instinctively looked up toward the sky, seeing at least a hundred planes behind the first wave that had just released its passengers. 

A hundred more chutes dotted the air, some of them falling abnormally faster than others. I watched with a nauseous feeling in my stomach as I saw a pony fall to his death in the water, while he was struggling to escape his chute out of desperation. He splashed into the water at terminal velocity and did not resurface, his chute sinking with him.

I gazed up at the sky above the planes. The clouds reaching towards the southern sea were partly discombobulated, revealing patches of vibrant blue. The sky towards the city, however, was more cloudy and darker - giving Hjortland the immediate impression of a non-pleasant atmosphere. 

“Sunshine, let's go!” Rain quickly tapped on my side.

“Right, right.” I said with haste, turning my attention back towards some of the buildings that littered the seawall street. Olenian Architecture was much more gothic compared to Equestrian. Most of the buildings had a sense of decor and theme attached to it that screamed “medieval”. The walls were standing upon a cobblestone foundation, which looked expertly masoned. The walls themselves looked something like plywood and lumber mixed into one material. The roofs were sloped and tiled just like equestrian roofs were, but the chimneys and columns of stone had a gothic lightning rod attached to each building, giving it an “old fashioned” feel to it.

Rain Drop was trotting towards a small group of ponies who were assessing their equipment upon landing. All of them were Pegasi, but I only recognized one of them - Morning Dew. She had her signature radio pack on her. “Dew, have you seen Brass land yet?” Rain yelled as we trotted closer.

“Negative. I lost track of her in the chaos,” she answered while gazing upward toward the cluster of planes and flak clouds. Gunfire suddenly sounded from the streets, heading further inland to the city. None of it seemed directed toward us. “She’ll launch her flare and we’ll rendezvous there. I wouldn’t worry just yet.”

“Fuck, I hate airborne ops.” a random pegasus complained to himself as he struggled to load his weapon. I noticed his tape was colored yellow. “Always something going wrong.”

A sound was then emitted from the pack on Morning’s Radio Pack. It was a buzz of static, quickly followed by a frantic voice and the sound of gunfire spontaneously going off. “Cirrus 2-3, Advance further Southwest! Fight your way towards Main Avenue, and establish a strongpoint!” Morning didn’t bother to reply to it.

“Hey Sunshine, can you fly up to the roof and find our flare?” Rain requested as he pointed to the magenta-colored tape that encircled his foreleg.

“Yeah.” I simply answered, whilst unfurling my wings for flight. A few seconds later, I was gazing across the skyline of Hjortland… and it would’ve been a beautiful sight if we hadn’t been busy fighting a war. 

Tracers were flying up into the sky as they attempted to strike the transports returning home. I could hear warfare envelope the soundscape around me once more. Not as much screaming this time around, thankfully.

“See anything?” Rain yelled from below.

“No, I got nothing. Keep an eye out and don’t get flanked.” I yelled back to Rain. He nodded and started barking orders at the ponies below me.

I raised my weapon and set it on the ridge of the roof as I scanned the skyline for any flares. So far, there was nothing but a desolate skyline. I realized then and there why it looked so barren from above. Many of these buildings were still in ruins... 

Some of the roofs had gaping holes in them. Some buildings were not even standing at all, and instead just reduced to piles of rubble. And some of them were left untouched but were stained with ash and grime from the devastation around them. It almost looked apocalyptic.

Fshhhh!

Out of thin air, a vibrant purple-tinted flare was shot up from the sky about 200 meters into the city. It billowed in the air as it descended downward, slow as molasses.

Quickly pulling out my compass, I opened its cap to read the bearing of the flare. It was just to our Northwest.

“Hey, I see it!” I yelled down to Rain, but he didn’t respond. 

He was busy assessing the situation with more ponies that were just now arriving toward the ground. One of the paratroopers was struggling to escape his chute, which Rain was helping. I assumed Rain didn’t hear me. 

I carefully scooted down the roof closer towards him. “HEY!” I yelled down again, louder.

“WHAT?!” Rain finally said back, sounding disgruntled.

“I see the flare! Northwest... I’d say 200 meters out.”

“Alright, good!” Rain called out to the group below as he barked more orders. Rain then took off and flew towards me to see the flare for himself. Morning Dew then arrived near us, followed by Dominoes as she had just landed.

“Okay, we make a beeline straight towards that flare and just fly ‘till we get there. Don’t stop for a second, alright?” Rain asked all of us. We each nodded, aware of what was to come should we be spotted. “Okay, wait here. We’ll leave on my mark.”

Rain then took off vertically and scanned the area beyond the buildings we were at. He flew left and right, not taking any fire from anywhere. He then flew back towards us, panting.

“Okay, it looks clear… Go!” Rain bellowed, and we all took off.





It only took us a minute or so to reach where the flare was at. When we arrived, we frantically scanned the ground below us to find Brass and the others. I scanned several streets below me. Some of them are straight and narrow with roads peeling off their sides, others forming an intersection with a cross shape. 

As I searched one of these intersections, I then saw a crimson figure waving her hooves at us like a mad pony, desperately trying to grab our attention. She was standing atop the roof of a ruined grocer located in the northwesternmost corner of the intersection.

“I see her! There!” I called out and pointed a hoof toward the roof. Rain, Morning, and Dominoes all gazed in the direction I was pointing.

“Could be Changeling.” Rain said. I gazed at him to see him perform the passcode gesture, the standard cross of the hooves. Soon, I repeated the same gestures. Morning and Dominoes followed suit shortly after.

The red figure stopped waving her hooves for a moment. At that moment, my heart felt like it stopped for a split second. 

But, thankfully, the figure responded with a cross of her hooves as well, beating them together two times. 

“Yep, that’s her.“ Rain then announced for all of us, making me feel more at ease. We wasted no time meeting up with her shortly after, as we all landed on the roof of her building.

“Took you long enough!” Brass berated as soon as we landed.

“Came as fast as we could.” Rain said. “Saw your flare, then followed.”

“At least you’re in one piece.” Brass said, as she counted us. “Only 4. Okay, so we’re missing two then.”

“You have one? Who’s with you?” I inquired Brass.

“Pumpkin Patch. He’s guarding North Street right now. That means we’re missing…” Brass took a moment to remember the names. “Storm cloud and Syringe.”

“What now?” Morning Dew asked.

Brass didn’t immediately answer. She took a moment to ponder the situation that was given to her. It took about a full minute before she finally answered. “We can’t stay here, that’s for sure. Changelings definitely noticed that flare from anywhere, and it’s only a matter of time before a squad, or a whole brigade of them show up.”

“Are you suggesting we just leave them?” I asked. “Why would we want to leave Syringe and Storm behind? And where can we go!?”

“Shut it!” Brass snapped at me fiercely but in a soft volume. “Do you want the whole fucking city to know we’re here!?”

I gazed around at all of the monolithic and vacant apartments and storefronts that display themselves in sublime quiet before me. Not a sound or sight was noticed. 

“Morning, lower your transmission volume.” He order, to which she immediately obeyed while reaching toward a knob on her pack. “We need to find a safer location and fire another flare. Then we can find the rest of our squad, Sunshine.” Brass spoke my name slowly.

I then heard the sound of flapping wings from above, which momentarily startled me. Pumpkin Patch landed on the roof between me and Brass.

“6 Contacts, all infantry, about 100 meters out from North Street. They didn’t see me.” he spoke quickly to Brass.

She facehoofed and groaned. “Great. Just what I needed.”

“Where do you need us?” Rain then asked.

“We’ll occupy a single rooftop, and shoot down at them all at once. I don’t want to waste more ammo than we can. Now on me!” She ordered, as she spread her wings to take off. We all followed suit while she guided us to the roof of an apartment just to the south of the Grocer. There, Brass took position behind a sloped crevice behind the ridge of a rooftop. We all took position beside her.

“I want every gun aimed at North Street.” Brass ordered quietly whilst pointing a hoof, as we all complied. At that point, we all waited. I held my breath.

For ten seconds, nothing. twenty seconds, nothing. thirty seconds, still nothing…

At forty seconds, I exhaled slowly and held my breath again.

Finally, I saw shadowy figures of a lone equine-shaped creature cautiously trotting out in the open, head on a swivel. They were all tinted black, no multi-colored coats in sight. Definitely looks like Changelings. 

I gazed at Brass through the corner of my eye and saw her peeking at the changelings with binoculars.

"Not yet." She whispered.

Soon, the Changeling on point turned around and called out to his comrades in that same foreign language. As he pulled his rifle out and aimed at nothing in particular, he was followed by five more Changelings stacking against a wall. They were at a perpendicular angle, and thus we had no shot.

"Hold." Brass orders, each of us clenching our rifles. 

The Changeling on point cautiously stepped out into the open, his weapon trained on the many buildings around him for potential threats. So far, they hadn't seen us.

The second Changeling slowly emerged, which was quickly followed by the rest as they attempted to cross the street.

“Fire.”

Rifles started popping. I saw two of the six figures go down within the first salvo of shots. By the second salvo, the group separated as they attempted to take cover in the corner store between North Street and West street. 

By the third salvo, three more of them were gone. The last one had taken cover inside the store after making a run for it. And just like that, it was over. I exhaled loudly, after what felt like mere seconds. Bodies were littering the streets where they just were. One of them was crawling, and we could hear his screams from here. It sounded like agony.

Pumpkin Patch took another shot, as the Changeling jerked one last time before going still. All that remained was the sight of corpses and the smell of gunpowder.

“Ceasefire.” Brass spoke again, still and soft. I found it chilling how she remained so calm in all of that noise. “Reload.”

Each of us complied, as we each took a stripper clip out from our vest pockets, and proceeded to load our weapons. 

The beauty and simplicity of this weapon and the clips, however, is the loading mechanisms embedded into the chamber, made specifically for the magnetic horseshoes. You would plant the clip into a slot as you load it into the chamber - like when you lock a door. Then simply slide it down until you can’t slide anymore, and pull the clip out to store it for later use.

I’d kiss the pony whoever made reloading so simple for us hooved creatures. And at the same time, kick them in the abdomen for whoever did the same thing for Changelings.

“Only one left. And he’s in a place where we can’t shoot him.” Brass muttered, still as a mouse.

“Orders?” Rain asked quietly.

“We move. He’s a dead bug either way, we can’t waste more time on just one-”

Blam!

	A single gunshot went off from within the grocer, but no bullets were hurled towards us. Not even a crack. Just a still, lonely shot. I was confused as to what else the changeling could shoot at besides himself.

Then I had the chilling realization that it might’ve been directed toward himself.

“Did… did he just… off himself?” I asked aloud.

“No idea. Maybe.” Brass responded.

“Why would they do that? That seems pointless.” Rain butted in.

“Cut the chatter.” Brass ordered. She then took her binoculars out and scanned the building. “I don’t know what he did, but we’re not staying here to find out. We need to move, now.”

“Where?” I asked.

“Some place closer to where we can find information. I’m thinking-” 

Morning Dew’s pack suddenly buzzed to life. A voice sounding guttural and loud officer breaks the silence with a somewhat quiet transmission. The sound of gunfire wasn’t as intrusive. “Mayday Mayday, this is Pheonix Company! Panzer group sighting on 76th Avenue, heading Eastbound! Reckon’ the Bugger‘ll be at the next intersection in about ten minutes.” the transmission announced. Morning reflexively lowered transmission volume by just a tad.

Another voice spoke in the transmission soon after, this one sounding quiet as sporadic gunfire was in the foreground of the feedback. “Solid Copy Phoenix, uh, any interpretation on a final destination?” the new voiced asked blatantly. 

“Negative. Got no chance to peek the fucker, has us pinned-” sounds of explosions soon followed suit, interrupting the officer.

“Roger. Uh, All Companies be advised - Large Armoured force spotted on the way from 76th Avenue heading Eastbound. Any AT available, haul your ass over there if you can. Out.” the calm voice transmitted for all.

“Eastbound? Isn’t that where we are at?” Rain asked aloud.

“No Squad from our division landed in the Eastern Sector. The whole Garrison is awake now, and we're alone.” Brass muttered idly, while staring up at the sky.

“Where do we go?” I asked aloud.

Brass took a moment to consider her plans carefully, given the information from the transmission. “Unless we find some sort of Forward Headquarters established by the bugs, we’ll place our bits on the Royal Palace. Place like that gotta has some info!” She spoke again, sounding determined. “If there’s any place we can find valuable foreign information regarding Nuclear Weapons, it’s there. That place is locked down tighter than a thief’s purse, though.”

"What about Syringe and Storm?"

"We'll stop somewhere along the-"

Pumpkin then immediately hurled himself over the ridge of the roof and took flight by opening his wings. 

“PUMPKIN! What are you... Shit!” Brass cursed as she helplessly watched him go off on his own. He landed at the wall beside the entrance and took a peek inside. No response happened. He then retreated back a moment and stayed for a moment or two. 

At a distance, it was hard to tell what he was doing, but in that lull he spontaneously jumped forward from his cover and rounded the corner, proceeding to breech inside. He soon disappeared inside.

“What do we do?” I asked while facing Brass, out of a desperate curiosity more from dread than anything.

“Hold and wait. The bastard is on his own. If he dies, we move.” Brass responded coldly. Yet in the distracting conversation, I heard not a single gunshot. I peeked over the ridge of the roof, and gazed down at the corner of the street. Still, nothing happened.

Then a pony wearing full clothing, looking just like Pumpkin Patch, sprinted out to the middle of the street. He crossed his hooves erratically, whilst hovering in the air. Afterward he thrust his hooves upward twice in a row, in a manner that was obviously staged. 

Brass gave a breath, though is sounded exasperated. “I can’t believe it. It’s clear?!” Brass inquired aloud, staring at the building dumbfounded.

“He gave the signal. Unless he’s an intensely informed Changeling Infiltrator, he has to be legit” Dominoes spoke first, broad and by the book.

“I guess so.” Brass then replied. “Fine, we’ll fire another flare and wait for the others to arrive. But you’re all gonna be guarding streets until they get here, or until we leave, because I do not want another Altercation! You see Changelings, you shoot. If you fire more than one shot, than it's assumed a hot contact. Understand?” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” we each responded. 

“I’m gonna have words with that fucking Pegasus!”





Not too long afterward, I found myself occupying another rooftop leading towards the street where the Changelings arrived from. I was alone. My task was simple enough, just keeping an eye out for intruders. I’ve been waiting here for 2 minutes now, and I just now heard the flare gun launch its projectile once more into the sky from the intersection behind me. The magenta color was dull and almost nonexistent in broad daylight, but still noticeable. The light was bright enough to be noticed by anyone from far out, Changeling or Pony.

Keeping my weapon at the ready, I aimed down toward the end of the street. It led to another crossroad intersection filled with more streetlights and walkways that morphed into sidewalks. No figures were seen, though. I took advantage of the temporary lull and readjusted my posture while sitting on my haunches on the roof ledge. It looked… awkward, but it was the best position I had to uphold any form of sightline all along the street.

Pumpkin was occupying the western street, Rain Drop had the southern street and Dominoes took the eastern street. Brass and Morning Dew stayed inside the Grocer as Brass fired the flare. Each of us was ordered to shoot any Changeling on sight, or to escort Storm and Syringe back to the intersection grocer should we happen to discover them. 

Aiming my rifle along the street to the north, I then noticed a single equine-shaped silhouette turn the corner and head south, originating from the Eastern turn at the end of my road. I quickly took aim and waited for him to come closer, almost certain that it was a single Changeling. But I began to wonder why a single Changeling would be foolish enough to wander down the street by himself.

As the shape approached me closer, it seemed… off. The sunlight was breaking through the clouds and shining down upon my face in its bright glory, forcing me to squint my eyes in an effort to combat the brightness around me. Doing so made the equine-shaped creature appear dark in nature, which could be easily identified as a Changeling.

I was just about to pull the trigger on the shape when I noticed that the shape was way too girthy and wide for a regular pony or changeling. Squinting my eyes again, I saw the darkness that shrouded them dissipate. It wasn’t just a single Changeling, it was two ponies hugging each other side-to-side, as they walked down the road.

The definitive detail that made me recognize them was their coats. One was silver, the other was charcoal. Syringe and Storm Cloud’s silhouettes were seen limping towards me slowly. And that wasn’t an exaggeration either, one of them was literally limping. Syringe looked as if she was supporting him with her weight to keep balance, as they both trotted slowly down the street.

At that moment, I released my weapon to sag along my side from the holster and gently hovered my way above the road toward them. I swung my hooves erratically, trying to grab their attention in anyway. Syringe paused her movement, gently lowering Storm Cloud to the ground. Then she crossed her hooves. I did the same. Syringe then gave an acknowledging gesture as an answer to my signal, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I made a straight beeline towards Syringe and Storm carefully landing as I decelerated closer towards them. From up close, I could see much more clearly what was happening. Syringe was indeed carrying a bit of Storm’s weight with her wings, but not by a lot. There was a wooden beam thoroughly attached along a grotesquely bruised leg. 

“What the hell happened?” I asked both of them. Syringe replied first.

“He fell.” was all she said.





“Is he injured?” Brass asked Syringe as she trudged along inside the Grocer with Storm carried by her and Morning Dew as they got closer.

“Broken Hindleg. I improvised and made a makeshift Splint, but he can’t walk on it at all.” Syringe replied hastily, as she gently laid Storm down along the interior wall on his haunches. He winced in pain as she did so.

“His wings okay? Couldn’t he have just hovered?” 

“Yes, he can still fly. But with that dead weight on his leg, it won’t mend as effectively compared to setting it down and letting it heal naturally. Plus, he’ll be more exhausted at a quicker rate due to the idle pain he’s currently suffering. Making him slower, and not as agile.” Syringe quickly listed, in a matter-of-fact tone that reverberates the interior of the small market building.

“I-I’ll manage just - ah - fine in the air, Syringe.” Storm muttered. "Jus' hurts, 's all. Don't worry.

“I’m a medic, that’s my job to worry. And no, you can’t fly.” Syringe answered seriously.

“You can’t help him anymore? Did you give him morphine?” Morning asked.

“I did, yes. I would’ve given him a rejuvenation potion, but that only heals external injuries, which he does not have. Just sprained bones. If I had a proper splint and a good place to hide, I can watch over him until he fully heals. But that’s not an option.”

“Can’t you set his bones back together, like how you did it with my… you know, my wings?” I asked meekly. Syringe gave me a blank stare.

“Wings are of a different bone structure than legs. And for someone as physically fit as him, it’ll be extra difficult to set it back in the right place without causing further damage. Not to mention that it’ll be excruciatingly painful.”

“Heh, ‘physically fit’. I feel, Urngh, f-fancied already.” Storm Cloud struggled to talk, but he did so with a half-assed joke. Syringe responded with a light kick from her hind leg to his right wither, which forced a groan from Storm.	

“Indeed, it's not an option. And neither is helping him.” Brass then butted in. “We have to keep moving. Our goal is the Royal Palace, just to our north, and I aim to get there ASAP while we still caught the enemy off guard.”

“Why there?” Syringe asked.

“It’s our best bet for finding any information regarding Nuclear Weaponry. We’re searching there first. If we find nothing, and the raid turns out to be successful for other squads, we continue towards the Royal Palace just Southwest of here where the others will advance to next.”

“Sounds, Hnf, reasonable.” Storm muttered between groans.

“How did his leg break anyway?” Morning asked aloud. Syringe gave a single chuckle. 

“He forgot to open his wings on a drop he thought was ‘just fine’.” She answered sarcastically while gazing at her eyes at Storm’s splint.

“First time for everything, huh?” he replied. “Just lucky we didn’t run into any trouble on the way here.”

“Okay, enough idle chatter. Sunshine, I want you to go gather the others. You know where they are, find them and have them regroup here on NWC. Got it?”

“Got it.” I responded diligently.

“Be careful.” Brass then added on, as I slowly trotted out the door. I then stretched my wings thoroughly, then took off. The last thing I heard was Brass’ voice faintly commanding the rest of us as I took off. “Morning, you’re going on the roof...”





The first street I flew was West Street, straight to my right from the Grocer. From there, I could see a monolithic paved path of asphalt, cluttered with piles of litter, papers, automobiles, and sometimes even furniture. Upon closer inspection of some of the building I had found here, some of them were bombed and shelled. But they looked old and decayed, as if that had been there the whole time. It had slowly occurred to me that the buildings were damaged maybe since during the olenian war, and were never repaired. 

Although the Changeling Military never even made it to Hjortland during their invasion, several news articles at the time suggested they did numerous bombing raids over the Olenian countryside. They may have directed some of those raids towards Hjortland. Some of that damage had nailed home, never to be fixed again since the annexation. It saddened and confused me how such a complex level neglect on Infrastructure and Civilization could be done from such a simple aspect of spite and hatred. The Olenians certainly didn’t deserve it, despite whatever their flaws were.

I proceeded down the street of slightly decayed, ruined apartments and storefronts. The road itself was a tile paved concrete, with some of the “tiles” becoming detached and a part of the litter that cluttered the ground. The street looked barren of all walks of life, its buildings echoing an eerie silence that had set the mood of this whole city.

Amidst the ruins, I continued to dart my eyes around me to find Pumpkin. He should be guarding Western Street right now, and he could be anywhere. I searched for about a minute or so, flying quickly from building to building - peeking in the windows (and sometimes gaping holes) to find him. No such luck. I contemplated on yelling his name, but came to the realization that it may bring the Changelings down on top of us. I continued to search. 

This went on for about 2 minutes, before I finally found an apartment complex off to the side of the street, with an alleyway facing towards the north off to the right of the front entrance. The only way I could’ve assumed this building to be an apartment building was due to the sign etched in ponish that was detached from the wall above the entrance, and it read “Cozy Coat Inn.” The top 3 levels, just short of the roof, were completely obliterated beyond recognition, as a bomb must’ve landed on the roof. Inside the gaping hole on the fourth-level was a pony with a coat of bright orange. He was easy to spot, making him more conspicuous to the Changelings then the rest of us.

I flew in closer and landed atop a ruined piece of floor that stretched over the street, amidst the giant hole just behind Pumpkin. The interior of the building was equally just as damaged as the exterior, to the point where I couldn’t recognize what the original intentions of this building were. There was an overturned sofa that laid upside down further in the room. Maybe an apartment or something?

The second I felt my hooves touch the floor, Pumpkin swayed his body in one lightning fast motion. He was now laying on his side and aiming his weapon toward me. His face was even and his voice even more so. “Passcode?” was all he muttered.

“Nudum Colorum.” I responded quickly, which prompted Pumpkin to lower his weapon at me. 

“What is it?” he then asked, turning back to face the street ahead of him.

“Syringe and Storm found us. We’re tasked to rendezvous on NWC and prepare to move out.” 

“NWC? Northwest Corner?” he repeated.

“Yeah, the corner store we holed up in earlier. We’re meeting there. Just get there when you can. I have to find the others.”

“Wilco.” He answered, his tone flat and eerie. A shiver crossed up my spine as I observed how ‘by-the-book’ he was. He acted professional and just, and never once had he hinted his Moral Compass. He was as neutral as one can possibly be. Nevertheless, I took off and left him to find the others. When I gazed back, he was still aiming down the street. I imagine not for much longer.





I flew back towards the intersection from West Street, and then changed my course to South Street. Rain Drop was next in line to find. This street looked neater on the road itself, as the automobiles were actually parked along the side of the road, instead of being bombed and abandoned in the middle of the way like West Street. The buildings themselves looked in optimal condition making it a lot more difficult to figure out where to start looking for him. 

There were nothing but apartments filling the side of the streets, with the corners of the Intersections and sometimes the front entrance of the apartments like a couple of those here in South Street being the only exceptions. I saw one in particular had a different layout than the rest. The front windows were painted with a decal of a salad and a name. The name read: “Sokka’ Salads”. 

Slowing my flying to a dull hover, I carefully scanned each individual door, window, and any other apparent entrances to find Rain Drop. I was hoping to be quick and decisive in my search to prevent less time lollygagging before any more Changelings could show up. Rain seemed to be exceptional at hiding, maybe too much so for his own good. 

“Rain.” I dared to mutter just beyond a whisper, loud enough to hear my voice reverberate across the empty street. No response. The silence of the street morphed with the sound of idle gunfire in the background was all that filled the soundscape. “Rain!” I harshly added again, a bit louder this time. Still no response. I was starting to get a bit worried as to what might’ve happened. Was he captured? … no, that can’t be it. He would die first than be captured, shockingly enough. Then again, it’s not difficult to see the reasoning why - given the horrific scenes we’ve seen from Changeling occupation.

“Psst!” subtly, and quietly, a noise was heard to my right. Being 10 meters up in the air, all I saw was the wall of Sokka Salads and some leftover debris. Rain was nowhere in sight. “Down here!” the voice whispered, diverting my attention to below me. 

And again, I saw nothing. Save for overturned vehicles and more litter.

I was understandably confused and somewhat startled. A voice was talking to me, and I can’t even spot where its coming from. My heart began to pump a little quicker. Suddenly, the ground literally shape shifted right before my very eyes. Or at least, that’s what I immediately assumed as I saw Rain emerge from the shifting piece of ground and casually toss it aside, like a piece of trash. The object he dropped then shifted again, its colors and appearance becoming distorted and garbled in a manner that can only be described as ‘magical’. Then the color faded into simple midnight black, as the object appeared to be a cloth of some kind.

More bewildered and confused than before, I landed deftly on my hooves beside Rain to gaze at the object on the ground. “Pretty cool, right? It’s a Chameleon Cloak. I can’t believe that I found one of these things intact!” Rain showed off, seemingly elated. 

Chameleon Cloaks. I’ve heard of these before, both during training and amongst small talk with the other troops. A special piece of clothing worn by Infiltrators to hide themselves from detection spells and from air reconnaissance. From what I heard, it aids the wearer in remaining anonymous by obscuring the identity of the wearer and allows them to blend in with the environment by using a special kind of magic. Maybe not enough to fool pony on the ground right next to them, but enough to fool them at a distance. 

If I’m being honest, I was skeptical of these things even existing in the first place. The whole concept sounded ludicrous to me. But lo and behold, there was one of them right in front of me. And in remarkably good condition too, despite it being abandoned.

“Where did you find this?” I asked Rain while gingerly picking up the cloak in my hooves. It felt leathery on the outer layer, and silky on the inner layer. The fabric seemed to be woven together almost seamlessly, giving it a very thin appearance. 

“Inside the restaurant.” Rain answered, pointing a hoof at Sokka Salads. “It was sitting on the floor, just collecting dust. The odds of me finding one that was intact and working are second to none!” He seemed enthusiastic of his discovery.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Rain then asked me. I tossed the cloak aside for a moment and turned towards the North. The intersection was in view, its light posts standing upright while inactive. “We found the rest. We’re meeting on Northwest Corner. We’re all regrouping there.”

“Ah.” Rain simply said. “Well, I’m bringing this with me!” gleefully, he trotted to the cloak and took hold of it with his mouth. “Brath i’ gonna nee’ thith, I thinkh.” he said with a mouthful of cloth as he began to trot away from me, unfurling his wings. I eyed the cloak with a small hint of superstition.

“You sure it’s a good idea to bring Changeling Tech with us?” I asked hesitantly. He stopped what he was doing abruptly and stared at me, like I was a map-pony. He then spat the cloak on the ground and plainly spoke. 

“Yes, Sunshine, it is a good idea.” Rain said with a condescending tone. “If what I’ve heard of this thing is true, then we can definitely use it for a better purpose. Maybe if we bring a working prototype back to Equestria, we can create prototypes of our own!”

He had a valid point. Most of Changeling Technology seems devoted to fueling or improving their war machine. However I only saw it as a means to prolong the conflict, and not a means to an end. Should we happen to reverse-engineer it, things may escalate. Of course, bringing it back into Equestria would be easier said than done, making me more skeptical of the item.

Still, I couldn’t argue with his logic.

Rain Drop was staring back at the cloak on the ground. “Actually, on second thought,” Rain began as he began to lay the cloak out the hood of the cloak on its side. Afterward, he proceeded to flatten the rest of the cloak along the sidewalk. He never ceased doing so until the cloak was completely overlapping itself on both sides. Then, at an excruciatingly slow pace, he began to roll the cloak from the bottom to the hood, turning it into a roll of cloth. 

“I think I would rather keep this between you and me, if you don’t mind. I may need it more later on, and you know Brass will confiscate this if she finds out.” Rain was speaking as he was doing all of this. The request he has bestowed upon me was, again, logical enough. Though I do not see how Brass would want to confiscate such a valuable item, given its purposes. It seemed biased against Brass, as if her authority wasn’t lenient enough for Rain or something.

Actually, come to think of it, the relationship between Brass and Rain has been somewhat negative for the majority of their company. They would either acknowledge each other neutrally, or be at each others’ necks in an argument. And the memories from Vanhoover regarding that Hive Spire only fortify that realization.

“Why are you standing still like that?” Rain then asked, interrupting my train of thought. “Don’t you have a job to do?” He was just now finished rolling up the chameleon cloak, as he safely stowed it in one of his Vest Pockets.

“Oh, uh- right.” I stuttered lamely. “And uh, I’ll keep the cloak a secret for you, sure.” An Idea crossed my mind. “But…”


Rain raised an eyebrow. “But what?” he asked impatiently. 

“You have to follow one condition.”

Rain didn’t seem to react to that. He simply stared at me with the blankest expressions I’ve ever seen. “Are you serious?” He then asked, his tone utterly unimpressed. 

“I’m not asking much. I just want to know what happened between you and your friend.” Rain grimaced, but I didn’t stop. “From what I can tell, you seem to be holding a grudge against Brass for something that happened to your friend. I want to know what that is.” He didn’t flinch nor react. He simply gazed right into my eyes for the longest time.

Then he turned away for a brief moment. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts. I gazed at his features, but he remained stoic. Not a single hint of emotion was shown on his face. Finally, he stared back at me and answered. “Why do you wanna know? You wanna smother me with pity or empathy? You wanna fix my ‘grudge’ with Brass?”

“No, I-”

“Or maybe, because you’re the inquisitive type,” Rain took several steps forward, his voice dropping low. “That you have this urge, this itch that can be scratched only by finding answers to sate your appetite of curiosity, because that’s just who you are? Because you’re just that stubborn?” He sounded threatening.

“I-”

“Sunshine, let me tell you something.” Rain took one more step, until he was just mere inches from my face. My ears drooped as I instinctively recoiled away from him slowly. 

“I don’t give a single fuck about anypony but myself. If you want something from me, you have to earn it.”

He stood still as a statue, his pupils fixated directly into mine. A familiar feeling of fear took hold of me. For a few tense seconds, neither of us moved. He just continued to stare at me, as if he was taking a peek inside my soul. Finally, he turned around and proceeded to walk away.

“Go ahead and tell Brass if you want. I don’t care.” he spoke while facing away from me. Unfurling his wings, Rain then proceeded to fly back toward the intersection, leaving me behind. I didn’t follow. 

I couldn’t shake the premonition that I may have made a mistake.





After that tiny verbal altercation, I flew over the buildings and made a beeline toward East Street, where Dominoes should be. Her street was relatively the same as the past two streets I’ve been on. The buildings, however, were completely flattened in some sections near the sidewalk, differentiating this road to be the most decimated one. There was no distinct pattern in the devastation, either. Just random pockets of destruction. Some of them dating as far back as from the Olenian Invasion.

I noticed that the distant and idle gunfire I’ve been hearing nonstop seemed to have increased in intensity. What used to be a collection of sporadic pops turned into an all out automatic firefight between the two sides. There must’ve been a major skirmish with an artillery gun that was occurring at this moment. I wondered if any of the other officers actually noticed our disappearance from their battle.

Dominoes was the easiest to spot out of all the others. I found her prone on the ground belly first, hugging a pile of debris that littered the center of a sidewalk as she aimed down her end of the street. Beside her to her right was another storefront, but it was damaged beyond repair. The front windows were shattered, and the front door was completely detached from the frame. I hovered down gently behind her, the sound of my hooves landing caught her attention. Peeking over her left side, she found me standing behind her.

“They here?” Dominoes asked. I nodded. “Where are they?”

“They’re in the Grocer, Northwest Corner. We’re all meeting there.” I responded quickly. She gave a single nod, and turned back to aim at the street.

“I’ll fly in about one minute. Making sure nopony’s flanking us.” Dominoes said. “Tell Brass I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

“Okay.” I simply answered, as I turned my back away from Dominoes. That was the last one. I unfurled my wings and-

“Hey, wait wait wait! Look!” Dominoes hastily called out, his volume just above a whisper. I quickly turned and looked at Dominoes, who was still aiming down the street. I looked ahead, and saw what she saw.

Changelings. There was another street that was paved horizontally in front of us, about 40 Meters out. They were walking past us, but not toward us. 

“Get down, what are you doing?” Dominoes yanked the sleeve of my uniform with her teeth. I heard the slight rasp of fabric being ripped. “You want them to see us?!” 

I laid belly first atop the pile of debris she was on. It poked my underbelly uncomfortably. None of the Changelings seemed to have noticed our presence as they continued down their street towards the distant firefight that was still kicking off. 

“Don’t try to fly away yet. They’ll surely spot you.” Dominoes uttered softly, as she patiently aimed her rifle down. One Changeling soldier, in particular, was traveling along with their group but momentarily broke off from it and traveled down our street - only for a moment. My heart seemed to have stopped for a split second when I saw him change direction.

Then he did something… odd. And I only say “Odd”, because I didn’t actually expect changelings to do this. But the Changeling picked a remote area along the left sidewalk, turned around, shimmied with his clothing around his hind legs… and squatted. He was (thankfully) behind an automobile that had managed to crash into a wall along the sidewalk. The Changeling remained in that position for a few tense moments, darting his head around as he did so. I couldn’t help but stare.

“Is he… taking a shit?” Dominoes asked, sounding just as dumbfounded as I was.

“I think he’s taking a piss, actually,” I answered, in a feeble attempt to shed some light.

“Do they actually need to do that? They don’t… eat anything, I think.” Dominoes asked again, turning her head to face me. I only shrugged in response.

The Changeling finally shifted his position, and shimmied his clothes once again, and proceeded to quickly trot his way back into the formation of other Changelings. More were still coming while he was ‘handling his business’. There was at least a hundred of them. But not a single one of them headed in our direction.

“I think they’re almost done.” Dominoes muttered, still aiming down her street. I cocked back the bolt to check my ammo, which as secured inside the chamber. 5 shots. I slid the bolt forward then down again, and aimed toward the convoy of bugs. Amidst the idle noise of battle in the distance, I picked up a new sound I heard. A rumble. A deep one. And it was inching closer and closer, from dead ahead.

My first thought was an armored vehicle, but it sounded heavier than that. Flashbacks of the Tiger ambush from Vanhoover replayed in my mind. Fear began to take hold of me, but I kept myself from mentally wavering just yet. I still aimed ahead, taking a couple of deep breaths while doing so. The sound grew louder and louder. Barely noticeable over the gunfire, but I could hear it. Actually, I could feel it, just like in Vanhoover. It shook the core of my being.

The source of the noise was finally trudging into view from the intersection ahead, as a tank was treading down the street ahead of us. It was not, in fact, a Tiger Tank - which did little to ease my nerves. The chassis was not like a rectangular box and more like irregularly shaped blocks intermingled together, welded shut and boltened tight. The turret was also boxy, and the barrel was short and stumpy. I new It was definitely an older model of a Panzer IV, but it didn’t change the fact that it was still a tank capable of killing us.

I heard Dominoes suck in a breath quickly as she saw the Panzer trudge into view. The Changeling Infantry seemed to hug the thing as it traveled along the road. Then the Panzer stopped, and so did several Changelings around it. They all turned their heads to look at the tank, as the hatch atop the turret pried open. It revealed another Changeling, clad in an officer’s uniform. 

He was gesturing the Changelings that were staring at him, then pointed a hoof straight at me and Dominoes' direction. My heart stopped again for a brief moment. But no shots were fired. The soldiers around the tank then nodded their heads and turned back toward our direction. At that moment, they began trotting down the street toward us slowly, as the commander retreated back into his hatch.

And to my despair, Panzer changed course… directly toward us.

I heard shuffling beside me, and saw Dominoes retreating behind her pile of rubble to hide. I crawled back toward her swiftly, trying to break line of sight between me and the tank.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Dominoes said, clutching her temples. “We’re not meant to take on a force like that. Why are they coming toward us?”

“Dunno. Any ideas?” I asked, shimmying beside her. My heart began to gradually increase its tempo. 

Dominoes took a moment to survey her surroundings. “We can’t fly back, and we can’t run back down the street. They’ll see us.” she scanned some of the buildings that were near us, and turned to look at the ruined storefront beside us. The rubble pile extended all the way to the front entrance, which was already open. “Okay, crawl. We’ll go out through the back way, and warn the others.” Dominoes said.

We soon found ourselves crawling away from certain death with nothing but a few rocks dividing that possibility. It broke line of sight, which was a godsend. As the Panzer drove ever closer to us, I noticed a few small pebbles repeatedly bounce up and down, like how they would in a suspense novel. The sight of those pebbles gave me a good idea just how heavy and powerful that tank really was. A sense of dreaded encompassed me. As I followed Dominoes inside the storefront, the interior wall his us from danger down the street.

Dominoes got up an all fours, and proceeded to gallop toward the back side of the store. She leapt over a countertop and attempted to open a door behind it. For a moment, she struggled. After numerous attempts to pry it open with her hooves, we came to the horrifying realization that it was locked.

We were trapped.

My skin began to tingle and shake uncontrollably (although that may be because of the Panzer vibrating the ground beneath me) and my breathing became erratic. “Oh for fucks sake!” Dominoes whispered to herself. She darted her head back toward the street. We could both hear changeling voices call out from the street in their native tongue, along with the deep rumble of the tank. The inescapable dread that took hold of me now morphed into something else. It was pure, unadulterated terror.

My mind was drawing a blank as to what to do. There was no staircase to retreat to (or if there was, it might’ve been behind the counter door) and the only place to hide in was behind the counter. I turned to face Dominoes, desperately hoping she had a plan. She seemed scared, yet also lost in thought.

“Do you have a frag?” Dominoes then asked. “I got a crazy idea.”

Patting down my vest, I indeed still had two No. 69 frags left in my vest. “Uh-huh!” I answered.

“Toss one, on the other side of the street.”

“What-”

“No time, just do it!” Dominoes interrupted. I didn’t know exactly what she was planning, but it wasn’t like I had any better ideas at that moment. I hastily pulled one of my grenades out, twisted the cap, pressed the trigger, and made my way to the storefront window to chuck it down the street. It landed on the far sidewalk, creating an explosion. At the exact moment the explosion went off, I heard a loud crashing sound behind me. I turned to find Dominoes bucking the door off of its hinges. “Let's go, before they realize where that came from!” Dominoes said. I followed closely behind, hearing Changelings shouting in their language.

Sure enough, the doorway revealed a storage room that had another door which led outside. And, luckily, that door wasn’t locked. We opened it, finding a derelict alleyway as we unfurled our wings for flight. Once we were outside of the alley, we diverted course back to Brass and the rest as fast as we could.





It didn’t take even a full minute before we were back in the intersection where the Grocer was. Dominoes landed first, I followed shortly after. We both galloped as fast as we could toward the Grocer from the south. As we reached the entrance, of the Grocer, we were greeted with the sight of Rain Drop, Pumpkin Patch, and the rest of the squad who was here before. Syringe was kneeling beside the door, tending to Storm Cloud. The only pony I didn’t see inside was Morning Dew, who I assumed was still on the roof.

Brass was the first to acknowledge us. She was approaching us quickly. “Tell me what the hell was with the deal with that explosion?!” she said bitterly as she stood inches from our faces.

Both of us couldn’t even get an answer out before we heard another pair of hoofsteps approach is frantically. I twisted my head to find Morning gallop past us. She quickly approached Brass, pointing a hoof to the east. “Large infantry group, about 20 of them at least! And they got a Panzer with them! They’re on East Street.” Morning said.

“Panzer? Why would they bring a fucking Panzer this way when the fighting’s literally on the other side of the fucking city?!” Storm objected.

“Maybe it was because something happened bring it here. Like, say, an explosion?” Brass sneered toward me and Dominoes. Behind Brass, I saw Rain Drop set up his MG looking to the eastern street.

“We were trapped in a storefront with a locked back door.” Dominoes started. “We couldn’t leave through the front, and bucking it was gonna reveal us anyway, so Sunshine diverted their attention away from us while I bucked the door. The blast concealed our position-”

“But it didn’t conceal our position!” Brass yelled back, not allowing Dominoes to finish. She didn’t reply. “Now, because a grenade went off in this side of the city, they’re gonna be on full alert in all sectors. That makes out job a lot more difficult.”

Brass’s harsh words somehow deeply angered me. “Would you rather we just die, is that it?!” I retorted toward her. Brass only Grimaced in response.

“We did the right thing, Sargeant. We only acted in our best interests.” Dominoes followed through after my response, reassuring my point.

“Can we wrap this up? I see the bugs coming toward us!” Rain then announced from the window. “I got a clear shot, but unfortunately so does that tank. They didn’t see me yet, though.”

“What do we do with Storm’s leg?” Morning inquired Brass. I turned to look, seeing Syringe and him laying low near the front entrance. Syringe seemed to be assessing his injuries… or something of the sort. 

Syringe heard Morning’s question, and answered first, “He could hover and fly the rest of the way, but it’ll strain his leg. I don’t see a better alternative, though.”

“Dose him in morphine, and he’ll be alright.” Brass then butted in, while reaching into his vest pockets. “Alright, time’s up everypony. We’re moving out! Get your gear and let's go! The next stop is the Royal Palace. We don’t have much time, so listen carefully.” She then pulls out a scroll of paper, and unrolls it on the hardwood floor. I could hear the faint pop of gunfire, and the mighty treads of the panzer inch closer toward us.

“Do you really have to do that now?!” Rain said with urgency. “That tank’s less than 50 meters away!”

“It’ll be quick!” Brass snapped back whilst leveling out the map, not even taking the time to gaze at Rain as she answered. The map showed the city limits of the Old Town District, which was where I assumed we landed in. It was located to the Eastern-most quadrant of the city. The layout of the streets and roads were different compared to Vanhoover. The streets had more curvy turns and detours, whereas Vanhoover’s was more parallel and straight. 

As Brass finished rolling out the map on the floor, a marker or some kind of pen was pulled out of her chest pocket with her teeth. She momentarily set it atop of the map. “Okay, I took the time to review this beforehoof. So listen carefully.” Retrieving the Pen in her clenched teeth, she began to make crude scribbles on the map. She circled a particularly random Intersection. “We’re right here. Our best bet to find any sort of relative information is here.”

The next location she circled was a medium sized rectangle that was located to the far northwest. 

“Right now, the Allies are busy working the south end and taking out those coastal guns. We’ll find a few more up to our Northwest, but they’re not important-”

“Not important? I thought we were planning an Invasion?” I asked aloud, interrupting her.

“Not important to us.” she corrected. “We’re on info-hunting duty Sunshine, not gun-killing duty.”

I was somewhat dumbfounded about all of this. Why extend this much effort and pony power for info gathering? I mean, yes- it is a Nuclear Bomb we’re talking about here, but this seems a bit excessive. The Changelings are responding with Tanks even, to make matters worse for us.

“As I was saying, we’re going to fly our way to the Royal Palace and find an entrance that isn’t well guarded. If we can’t find one, we’ll make one using diversionary tactics. Once we’re inside, we spread out into teams of two and search the building up and down, clearing our way through quietly if we can.”

“That’s gonna be a circus to pull off, you know.” Pumpkin commented dryly.

“It’s a tall order, yes, but it’s our duty. We must because nopony else will.” Brass said. 

“Hate to interrupt,” Rain then called out from the window, somewhat low in volume. “But those bugs are gonna see us very soon if we don’t get a move on!”

“Alright, let’s go then!” Brass announced, while hastily rolling up her map. Everypony began moving away from Rain.

“Uh.” Rain spoke with alarm, backing away from the window with a frantic pace. “That tank is aiming right at us.”

“Did they spot us?” Brass asked.

“I didn’t see any signals or recognition.” Rain replied quickly. “It feels wrong though.”

The whole squad was backed away from the wall closest to the Changelings.

“We have-”

Kra-BOOM!

	Brass never finished her sentence as a Panzer shell slammed into the side of the building, creating a mighty explosion. No shrapnel managed to hit me. The force of the blast knocked my balance off, as it did to the rest of us. There was now a gaping hole in the building, sunlight pouring through the smog and dust. An intense ringing filled my ears.

“Move, get the fuck out!” Brass yelled while standing herself up, as we all ran in the other direction. Gunfire then immediately to pop behind us, bullets whizzing just mere millimeters from our heads. I instinctively ducked down and laid both my hooves over my helmet for a brief moment, watching as my squadmates struggled to trot out of the building while under fire. I saw Syringe Dragging Storm Cloud with her teeth biting his uniform collar, while he fired back through the gaping Panzer hole.

I stood up frantically, only to be stopped by a sharp pain in my left hindleg. I looked down below my abdomen and saw a bloody hole in the sleeve of my pant leg. I didn’t even feel the bullet hit me. Feeling the thickness of the blood seeping my coat, it was both sobering and petrifying being able to see me bleed before my eyes.

“We're pinned down!” Syringe called out amidst the chaos. It wasn’t hard to see why; the steady stream of gunfire seemed to have increased tenfold, bullets occupying the air above our heads. We all were forced to keep low to the ground.

I quickly looked around in a panic, letting pure instinct asses my decisions. I looked for a way out, a place to shelter ourselves and hide. The buildings proved hopeless, they would fire that Panzer and obliterate us inside. The gunfire prevented any sort of Lateral Movement.

I then noticed a shape embedded in the street beside me. A circle plate. I crawled slowly toward it, keeping my head down below the hail of bullets. Rain was doing his best to provide counterfire from his MG, keeping whoever was shooting at us at bay. I reached the circle in the ground, and read the inscription.


Sewage


	Another mighty explosion occurred within the building we were just in, shaking the ground beneath me. Pure, unfiltered fear took control of me. In desperation, I planted a hoof over the metal of the circle, silently praying for the lid to be magnetable. These horseshoes were magically infused, so theoretically they should connect to any metal. To my great ecstasy, the grate locked on instantly. I pulled with all my might, and the grate revealed a hole barely wide enough for a Pony.

“HEY!” I yelled out toward my squad. Between my yelling, and the sound of gunfire, none of them responded. "HEEEY!" I practically screeched the word. A few heads turned to face me, some of them busy returning fire.

“THROUGH HERE!” I yelled loudly again, descending through the hole bottom first. The hole was restricted by a small tunnel, accessible only through the ladder to climb. Grabbing the sides of the frame with my hooves, I carefully slid down and used my wings to decelerate my fall at the bottom. The lack of light and the smell of sewage were more than enough to indicate that I was underground.

I was floating with my wings above canal of sewage water, when soon after, one pony quickly fled through the tunnel. Dominoes was the first one to go through. Then Syringe, followed by Storm. Then Pumpkin, then Brass, then Rain as he was the only one providing covering fire for the others - or at least, that's what I assumed.

When Rain was the last one in, he quickly grabbed a hold of the grate lid and sealed the tunnel shut over us. Being the only source of light, the chasm around us was shrouded in darkness.

“Fuck me… is everyone alright?” Brass called out through the darkness.

No responses. Only paced breathing and groans were heard.

“Everypony, torches.” Brass ordered. Taking some time to find the walkway in the darkness, I winced loudly as I landed on my bad leg. The adrenaline finally wore off, and the pain was hard to ignore now. 

After some fumbling around in my pack and sitting upright to prevent pain, I eventually found the flashlight fastened to my uniform. The pain in my leg only grew more intense. Flicking the switch on, bright artificial light illuminated the path in front of me. I could see everypony else sitting on their haunches, now working faster thanks to my light. Syringe turned hers on as well as she was tending to Storm leaning against the wall.

“Live check, who’s still with us?” Brass said, scanning each of us in the light. I counted alongside him silently, finding nopony out of place and lost. Everypony raised their hoof, to which Brass counted. We were all here, in one piece at least. “Okay. Uh… Where the hell are we?” 

Brass looked around the chasm we were in. In one direction, a T-Intersection splits two ways. In another direction, a long winding canal before it banked left. It was big enough for all of us to fit on either side of the canal, each direction following the layout of the street above. But beyond that, I couldn’t see much. It was pitch black in both directions, with no source of artificial light elsewhere.

The deep rumble of the Panzer could still be heard from above us, as well as muffled voices. The gunfire had ceased at least. But the fear of them finding this hole and pursuing us seemed apt in this situation. Instinctively, my gun never aimed away from the sewer entrance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brass reaching into her vest pockets pulling out a compass.

“Okay okay… Palace is Northwest, so… we go this way.” Brass pointed in the direction of the T-Intersection. “It goes north, then diverts to either East or West. We’re going West, and we keep going from there.”

“We’re still on the mission?” Rain asked inauspiciously.

“What other choice do we have, Rain?” Brass replies tersely.

“We almost got blown to pieces from a fucking tank!” Rain protested, looking around to eyeball each of us.

I tried to stand up, but once again forgot about the pain in my hind leg. Ugh... to say getting shot at sucks is a gross understatement.

“Syringe,” I called out meekly, my voice unable to overpower both Brass and Rain's argument. Thankfully, she managed to hear it and noticed the bloody hole in my leg. Storm seemed to be fine enough with his injuries, so she got to work on me. 

“What is it with you ponies getting leg injuries all the time.” She gripes to herself as she inspects the wound. I didn’t bother to answer as she prodded my wound painfully. There were two holes, meaning the bullet went clean through. “At least nothing’s broken.” She hands me a rejuvenation potion. "Drink this, and I'll dress the hole."

“Why is it we are risking our necks in the most dangerous areas known to ponykind on some wild goose chase? Why is there this level of extremity on our missions?” Rain asked again, still arguing with Brass.

“If you have a better plan of action then what I got, let’s hear it.” Brass challenged Rain. “Go on - tell us your plan, Rain Drop, I’m sure it would lead us to a better location than this shithole, right?” Brass extended both her hooves out, emphasizing the environment we were in.

It was a literal shithole.

Rain had no answer nor reply stored up for Brass. Everypony else was silently on edge, having survived such a close encounter. The tank’s engine and treads could still be heard above us, and for a moment nobody spoke. We waited for something to happen on the surface for a few tense moments that felt like several lifetimes. The voices were louder, but still indistinct. The treads of the Panzer were moving… North, I think. It was hard to tell.

But nothing happened to the lid; the only thing separating us from certain death. No changeling opened it, no explosion tore it apart, no gunfire was heard - it was eerily quiet, but not totally silent. Nopony dared to make a peep as some of us had eyes and guns trained on the grate lid.

As Syringe was finishing up bandaging my wound, she gave me a shot of Morphine into my lower abdomen. Soon enough, the pain will die down to a dull roar rather than a burning howl. It still made me wince when she prodded the area around it, sharp tendrils of pain jabbing my leg.

"It will do for now." Syringe mutters to herself.

“As I said, this is the best plan we got.” Brass said. “If you don’t like it Rain, I suggest you tell me a better plan and fast because we don't have many other options.” 

Rain looked more than peeved, but not quite irate. Yet no response was given either. He could only seeth to himself in silence. Brass sighed as she looked around, finally noticing Syringe fixing my leg. “What’s wrong with her?” 

“Shot. She can still walk on it, but she can’t put too much pressure on it.”

“Can she still shoot?” 

Syringe didn’t answer immediately. She looked at Brass, muddled at her question. “In theory, yes.”

“Then we still got a chance. Hurry up with that so we can move-”

Blinding light flashed in our eyes from both directions, so bright I couldn't see where it was coming from. A feminime voice pierced through the light. “DON'T MOVE!”

Neither of us attempted to resist, given that no bullets were thrown at us. Rain clutched his gun tensely, moving a hoof to block the light from his eyes. They were ridiculously bright!

“Squad… don’t move.” Brass ordered, humbled.

Amidst the several new pairs of hoofsteps, I heard the same voice again. “Aarni, tunnistaa ne.”

Through the north and the south tunnels, the light was pouring down on us from both sides. But I didn’t know who it was yet... or whether or not they were Ponies. They definitely didn't sound like ponies, they were speaking a different language entirely. 

My mind was fuzzy and drawing a blank. Hoofsteps approached us from the northern tunnel, and I could see the silhouette of who was approaching us.

It was a... Deer? 

I couldn’t see their features very well, but the shape left no doubt of who they were. The deer held some kind of staff in its hooves and waved it over toward us. A humming noise was heard until it ended with a simple chime. Amidst the blinding light, I saw a green glow emitted from the end of the staff.

“Ne ovat ... Itse ponit?”

“Mitä he tekevät täällä niin kaukana kotinsa?”

“Hiljainen, Aarni!” the voices of the deer were arguing amongst each other. I suddenly found myself wishing that I was multilinguistic.

Another pair of hoofsteps approached us. This silhouette approached us slowly, and cautiously. After standing in front of Brass for about ten seconds, no words were said. Only tense stares were exchanged. This deer then knelt down, and with a voice soft yet thick as honey, spoke to us:

“Why are you here, Ponit?”
> (A3) - Chapter 3: Compromise
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Chapter 3: Compromise



“HA HA, the fun has been DOUBLED!”







Sunshine Tempest


My recollection in Hjortland had just reached what was probably the pinnacle event of all my time there. Where we met the last of some formidable military that was left from the Olenians, before me and my Squad left the city behind. The very last remnants of any resistance left in the Deer. 

And judging by her expression, I could tell Bon Bon found this information to be overwhelming. 

“Olenians?” she said at first. It looked as if she couldn’t fathom what she was hearing from me. “There were Deer left in their cities still fighting, even after 5 years of occupation?” 

“Well…” I hesitated for a moment. “Yes... And no.”

“Translation?” Bon Bon said, raised an eyebrow at me.

“They were one of the last ones.”

The room fell morbidly silent thereafter. It lasted for about ten seconds.

“One of?” Bon Bon asked then asked, not once retreating her eyes away from mine.

“They were one of the last few that remained. There was a whole organization full of them and we encountered… I dunno, a company of them or something that was fighting ‘The Oppression’ - as they were calling it. We happened to be near their strongpoint in Hjortland when were engaging with that Panzer. Everyone else in that country was either fighting back, living in total fear and isolation, being harvested, or… Celestia knows what else. Anyway, the point is; there weren’t many of them left beyond Hjortland. We had probably found one of the largest resistance cells that were still alive, all by complete accident.” I finished, my ears inadvertently drooping as I finished.

	Bon Bon took this moment to ponder my words, looking down at the table that was littered with documents. For a few short moments, there was a palpable sense of dread suffocating the room. Save for the buzzing of the light bulb above me, everything was quiet.

“So, what did your encounter with them achieve? What happened?” Bon Bon finally asked, after what felt like minutes of thinking.

“They blinded us with lights, shouting in their language as they quickly realized we weren't their enemy. I think they must’ve assumed we were changelings, because one of them held a staff over us and... I remember a chime, and that made them hesitate. They didn’t shoot us afterward, so that was good.”

“What happened next?”

“One of them came closer toward us. By this point, I knew they were Olenians and I knew they were enemies of our enemies as well… but, I was still afraid that they may kill us.”

“Why?”

“... We were luring a tank and infantry regiment over their heads - Directly over their HQ where they could’ve been discovered, killing us at any given time. If they would have opened that sewer grate we hid in, we would all be dead.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Bon Bon said. “You said one of them approached you?”

“Well, the doe spoke Ponish to us. I didn’t think there was any hope of diplomacy left when we were caught. But one of them, with clean and smooth dialect and tone, spoke fluent ponish to us. I immediately assumed she was the leader of her pack. She walked up to Brass, and said...”






Hjortland Sewers, June 9th, 1014. 14:47 CST


“Why are you here, Ponit?” sneered the doe.

Neither of us dared to move, let alone speak. Only the sounds of a tank rumbling over our heads, of the rushing water from the canal, and of dripping droplets leaking from various cracks in the ceiling above us were heard. I felt my throat tighten involuntarily.

 The lights they were flashing at us made it difficult to see how many of them there were. I could see the shadows of Brass’s shape through the interior smog that accompanied the light. It looked like it came from their chests, not their weapons. 

Brass, ever so subtly, moved in a position to present her chest better. The doe that asked the question didn’t seem to react to it. Or more accurately, I couldn’t see a reaction. The lights around us shimmered as she moves closer, however; readying their rifles as I heard the click-clacking from their weapons.

“We… we were attacking the Changelings from the skies.” Brass finally spoke, soft and calm.

“We know that already. Our scouts informed us a while ago of your arrival. That answers how you got here.” The doe deadpanned. “I didn’t ask how, I asked: why?”

Brass fell silent for a moment. “We… are attempting to destroy coastal guns in hopes of securing an opportunity for an invasion of the city.” Brass answered carefully. 

It seemed like a solid rebuttal. But the doe didn’t seem to react to it.

“And… how, exactly, would that explain your group being so far up north that you are not engaging these said ‘Coastal Guns’ that litter our shoreline, hm? And instead, have drawn the attention of a Panzer regiment above our heads while moving away from these said coastal guns? Would you like to explain that?” the doe retorted, her voice thick and contemptuous.

Brass, again, fell silent at her reply. She waited for a few tense moments, before blurting out what was probably the most insane response I’ve ever heard her say in a situation such as this.

“... That’s Classified.”

If I wasn’t under the immediate threat of being shot at for making any sudden movements, I would’ve face hoofed there and then.

“Come again?” The doe asked, sounding utterly unimpressed.

“It's Classified.” Brass repeated. “I can’t explain any more than that.”

She didn’t reply to that, as the doe seemed somewhat hesitant in her actions and words. She darted her head behind Brass, and for a moment I thought she was looking straight into my eyes. 

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, pointing a hoof somewhere beyond my direction. I turned to look and found Syringe and Storm Cloud blocking the light with their hooves. Storm Cloud’s leg was still bandaged and splinted, good and proper.

"Broken Leg." Syringe answers quickly.

“...A Pegasus... With a broken leg?” The doe snickers, lathing her words with condescending mirth. A few deer joined in on the chortling. I cringed inside at how unbelievable this whole scenario actually was. 

"How would a Pegasus be able to break his own leg?"

Brass didn’t answer at first. She took a moment to collect her thoughts. 

“... Because he’s a dumbass.” Brass answered.

I turned to look behind me. Storm Cloud gave Brass an exasperated ‘What The Fuck’ expression. 

I wanted to join him.  What the fuck is Brass doing?!

“And how in Tartarus am I supposed to believe that?”

Syringe raised a hoof to speak out. “Um-”

“I didn’t ask you.” the doe retorted sharply. Syringe wilted her hoof shortly afterward.

“How else would a Pegasus be able to break his leg if he’s not a dumbass?”

“Okay, I’m not a fucking idiot!” Storm protested.

“Shut up!” the doe leered at him with such volume that it echoed across the sewer about three times before dying away. It forced Storm to remain silent. 

I heard several clicks and clacks from their weapons as they instinctively aimed at Storm. Another ten seconds of tense silence enveloped us before she spoke again.

“What I want to know,” the doe started, “is why you are so willing to leave your pony comrades to die, why you are so willing to lie to my face, and why you are so willing to chase after certain death to follow through with this... This ‘Classified’ reason, as to you being here in our Domain?”

The question left Brass in a state of hesitance. Her line of questioning raised valid points. At that moment, with guns and lights aimed at us, I felt immensely guilty and out of place.

I looked toward Brass, who still hadn’t replied to her question. 

With a scoff, the doe turned around and raised a hoof. Instantly, the guns were raised, aiming at all of us.

Time felt like it slowed to a crawl, as the horrific realization crept onto me that I wasn’t going to escape this. 

It felt like a black, sickly dagger had pierced my heart. Tears were pricking my eyes. I closed my eyes.

“Because we will all die if you kill us.” Brass eventually answers, her voice terse and coarse.

Nopony moved or spoke. Brass’s outburst left everything completely still for just a brief moment.

I slowly opened my eyes. The doe lowered her hoof slowly, deliberately. The guns were lowered by just a little. I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, feeling a wave of euphoric relief wash over me. Tears freely flowed from my cheeks - not out of sadness, but out of pure ecstatic relief.

“Say again?” The doe asked, turning around to face Brass once more.

“There’s a weapon that we are searching for that possesses a potential," Brass quickly explains, "A potential that could possibly change everything we’ve ever known… or so I’ve been told. It is a weapon of previously unfathomable power, and we are looking to stop it. And if we don’t stop it before it’s too late, it may very well destroy us all.”

The doe still seemed unimpressed as she tilted her head. Brass gave out a long droning sigh.

“Okay, Okay… uh, this… weapon, is running amok somewhere out there. About… 3 months ago, we uncovered some hidden clues regarding the existence of such a weapon, locked away in a secured container beneath one of our recently liberated cities - of which I will not name. When we revealed the existence of this weapon to our superiors, they explicitly told us to keep this information strictly classified. But…” Brass started, as she looked around at each of the weapons aiming at her through the blinding light. “Clearly that didn’t work out as they hoped.”

“And you are telling us this potentially top secret information to us after we had just met you, all in an effort to save yourselves?” the doe prompted.

"We are still on mission. And we cannot fail the said mission. We will do whatever it takes."

Both parties contemplated each others words before the Doe prompted Brass to continue. "Why are you here then?"

“... We were tasked to find this weapon by any means necessary. The information we found, as I’ve mentioned earlier, hinted at the existence of such a weapon in Hjortland.”

Brass was either really good at lying, or she ran out of ideas to go on with. Either way, we were still alive because of it, and I didn’t dare to speak up. And regardless, I could not tell if she was doing one or the other.

“And that’s why you’re here specifically?” The doe asked.

“Yes.”

“Did it hint to any other locations?”

“Yes, but I cannot say where. That’s the line I’m drawing.”

“Then why Hjortland first?”

“It was the first place to look out of all of the potential hot spots for whatever it is we are looking for. And the closest."

"You speak a lot as if you know so much already about this weapon of yours... and yet I cannot help but notice that you cannot even tell me what kind of weapon it is!"

"... It is classified."

"That didn't stop you two minutes ago..."

Tensions were high. All guns were aimed at us, and the doe was starting o lose patience.

“Do more of these cities on this list of yours happen to reside in Olenia?”

“Not that I know of.”

“That you know of?” The doe emphasized.

“Information could always be wrong. But High Command has put a lot of faith in this treasure trove we found, and that’s why we’re here.”

The doe was silent for a long while. She looked in my direction, her eyes locking into mine. A sense of violation encompassed me. It felt as though her eyes were piercing into my soul.

“Does the rest of your squad know of this already?” The doe asked once more, not taking her eyes off of me. I nodded furiously.

“Yes.” Brass replied.

“Then I’ve heard enough,” she said, standing tall and looking down upon Brass. She looked condescending as she peered down unto Brass Screws, but not in a way that begets spite. More of an Authoritative stance than anything. “Is there anypony else injured besides him?” She asked, pointing a hoof to Storm Cloud.

“Not that I know of.” Brass turned to look at each of us - slowly, to prevent a violent reaction from the other deer. “Ponies, status report.”

“I’m… I-I’m good.” Dominoes shakily answered. I turned to look behind me, where I could see somewhat clearly away from the light. She was laying along her backside, blocking the light with a hoof.

“I’m alright.” then Pumpkin Patch, still as ever in his voice. He sat on his haunches, looking stiff.

I looked down at my leg with the bloody bandages. "I'm okay."

“No further injuries beyond him.” Syringe slowly answered. The doe simply gave a nod and turned back to her comrades. 

“Ota yhteyttä linnake, kertovat lääketieteen lahden valmistautua triage. Olemme saattaminen nämä turvaan.” she spoke to them in their native language. The rest of the deer seemed to have acknowledged her command and lowered their blinding lights. 

It was way too dark (save for their lights reflecting off the hard floor) to get a good read of their reactions and their facial features. I still have yet to have a good look at the Doe interrogating us, but I got a small glance at her physique. Her coat was Tannish Brown, wearing a uniform that was grey and black. She had some sort of coif fixed around her neck.

“Voisin kysyä, miksi me autamme heitä?” another one of the deer stepped forward to speak up. I couldn’t tell what was being said. The Deer that spoke up sounded Male. 

“He aikovat auttaa meitä jälkeen autamme heitä. He hoidetaan, ja auttavat meitä lopullisessa vastakkainasettelua. Ymmärtää?” The doe answered.

The deer that piped up was now silent and didn’t say anything else. I didn’t have the faintest idea as to what they were talking about. I looked at Syringe, who at least knew a little bit of New Changeling. I couldn’t see her well due to the darkness, and couldn’t find some sort of sign that she may know Olenian as well. 

“Listen up, Ponies.” the doe announced to all of us, speaking in our language again. “You can call me Marja. We’re taking a very big risk for you here. And considering we almost killed you as well, we expect you lot to do exactly as we say. We think you may be of substantial use for our cause. We’re escorting you back to our Bastion, and we will treat your injured comrade there. You are to follow us, and you are to remain silent during the journey. If I find out that you are going to backstab us later on, or to betray my trust for you - which is lacking enough already - then we will execute you all.”

“What do you mean ‘use for your cause’?” Rain piped up. Marja didn’t immediately reply.

“What’s that pony saying, something… something about ‘boots and hooves'…?” Marja asked with that silky voice of hers, almost sounding as if she was reminiscing a pleasant memory. Brass gave out a long sigh.

“... 'Looks like the boot's on the other hoof.'”

“That’s the phrase I’m looking for! We will help you, and you will help us. And in return, we don’t kill you for interfering with our affairs.” 

No response was given. Brass did not reply. 

“I don’t know about you,” Marja said, her voice fair yet firm. “But that sounds like a good deal to me.”





The path we took to walk back was still underground, as we navigated the walkways on the sides of the canal. Taking multiple turns and detours through the tunnels made it easy to get lost as to exactly where we were. Yet, these deer navigate through them almost effortlessly. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given that this is their city. The lights on their chests made it easy for us to follow. They were in front, and behind us to ensure we made no effort of escape. I can tell they were still distrustful of us, and the thick atmosphere around us only fortified that thought. 

I knew I wasn’t a prisoner, yet I couldn’t help but feel like one.

...

... Whoa. Déjà vu.

The walk back was by far the most awkward walk in my life. Not a single word was spoken at all between the squad and the deer. The deer spoke among each other, hushed in volume as they speak their native tongue. Yet we, the ponies, were not authorized to speak based on what Marja had said earlier. I could not, for the life of me, decipher what they were saying. We walked for about ten minutes in total. The smell of the rotten sewage water was still clinging to my nostrils, but not as intensely now. It started to dissipate as we continued to march.

We had to trek slowly due to Storm’s badly injured leg. I could hear the quiet sound of groans behind me as he limped his way along with the rest of us. Marja and the rest of the deer made no such effort to stop and care for Storm and instead told us to follow. Not that they had the means to help him any more than what Syringe could do, but the deliberateness of their refusal to help us did not go unnoticed by me.

“We’re almost there now.” Marja spoke softly. Nothing else needed to be said. She took a right turn down another divergence, the rest of us following. We traveled down a tunnel with no Intersections or turns to break off into. It was just a long, narrow tunnel that stretched down with an obtuse curve to the right as it kept going.

There was almost total silence among us. Even the canal water sounded muffled, now that the water from this canal specifically was not flowing for some odd reason. Using this moment of brief confidence I suddenly found myself possessing, I decided to be a little bold yet not also not as confronting.

“What exactly is gonna happen to us?” I asked aloud. No one stopped moving. We kept walking in formation, trudging along. No immediate answer was given. 

Marja was the first to answer, though. “You will answer questions. We’ll decide what will happen with your lives afterward.” Her response was off putting… but it seemed honest enough to prevent another question from me. I stared at my hooves as we kept walking.

The tunnel continued to curve to the right, when we finally saw a faint glow encompass the left wall near the end. It looked artificial and still. “We’re here.” Marja announced. “Let me do the talking, and keep your snouts shut.” She ordered. None of us replied, or protested.

As we finally crested around the curved corner of the wall, the light from the glow ahead became more illuminant. It continued to get brighter and brighter, until the deer accompanying us finally turned off their vest torches. We soon came upon a long sandbag wall that dipped below the walkways into the now empty canal. In front of the Canal Sandbags was barbed wire, with an MG pointing down upon it. The Walkways had sandbags as well, with no such barbed wire. But they too also had MGs pointing down the walkways and towards us.

Behind each of those sandbags were more deer - about 15 or so - each of them aiming weapons at us with distinct caution. I imagine they were on extra alert, now that they saw Ponies amongst their kin.

“Joka Queen Myyttekö?!” one of them asked from behind the walls.

“Palvelen kuningatar Deer, ei kuningatar Bugs!” Marja responded back. No words were spoken for a while. I then saw one of the deer from the wall stand up and signal us to come through with a gesture of a hoof.

“Stay close, we’re not through yet.” Marja spoke to us. We continued to walk along the path near the dry canal, stopping at the sandbag wall. On the other side of the sandbags was… another wall. A big one. It looked like it was made of various materials expertly wielded together to form this kind of structure. Chain Link fences, Plywood, Metal Sheets, and so on. The wall completely blocked off the tunnel on the other side, preventing a peak through inside. Embedded in the center of that wall was a sheet metal door, bulky and heavy.

There were about 10 Deer in total on this side of the wall, guarding it. Two of them were occupying the bulky door in the center of it. The rest were behind the sandbags. One of the Deer behind said sandbags hadn’t lowered their weapons at us yet. Or, more accurately, at my squad. 

“Keitä nämä nyk? Ovatko ne vielä naamioitu?” he asked Marja.

“Meillä on jo skannatut ne alas, ne ovat ponit.” she replied. The former deer looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Ponit? Miksi ne Keltainen kylki aina täällä?” 

“Se mitä yritän selvittää, korpraali. Päästä meille, ja me ehkä poimia arvokasta tietoa.” Marja replied once again. The deer with the gun at us seemed more forthcoming now that he talked with her. He gave her a nod and turned to yell back at the others manning the wall behind him.

“Avaa portti! Meidän täytyy Ponit puhua!”

“Kyllä herra!” One of the deer beside the door saluted back and answered. He then quickly proceeded to open the door and rush through. Due to the amount of deer in my way, I couldn't see exactly what it looked like inside.

“Wait for just a moment. This won’t take long.” Marja whispered toward us. The deer that disappeared behind the bulky door then reappeared not a minute later. He was accompanied by several others, one of them holding a staff similar to the one that one of Marja’s deer was holding. I assumed immediately it was another one of those “Disguise Detectors” that everyone seemed to have an abundance of. 

The group got closer towards us, until we were just a couple of meters away on the other side of the sandbag. One of the deer stood out to me. He was more haggard then the rest of them, grime staining his coat. His mane was Hazel, with streaks of silver dominating much of his head. The clothing he wore was different to the others, most of these deer wore greyish to white clothing. He wore one that was exceptionally darker in color. He also wore a Mariner’s cap, whereas the rest of the deer wore no helmet or hat at all. 

It struck me at that particular moment as I observed this deer that he may very well be the real leader of this pack.

“Marja, keitä nämä olennot?” the haggard deer spoke to Marja.

“Ne ovat ponit, taistelevat Sorto. He ovat täällä, koska ne voivat auttaa meitä, Vilhelm.”

The old deer did not reply to Marja. He turned his head back toward the ones who followed him. “Tee se.” he said. The deer with the staff immediately proceeded to stand on his hind legs, lowering his staff so that the crystal embedded at the end was hovering above our heads. The crystal chimed softly as it gave out a soft grey glow. It then ‘hummed’ for about a few seconds before making another chime, shifting the color from a grey to a vibrant green.

“Ne ovat puhtaita.” said the one with the staff. 

“Juuri silloin.” The haggard one spoke again. “Miksi oikein olet tuonut heidät tänne, Marja?”

“He tietävät paketin, sir. Aion kuulustella heitä siitä.” 

“Kuinka he voisivat mahdollisesti tietää siitä? Vain meidän Partiolaiset tietää näistä tiedoista!”

“Se mitä yritän selvittää, sir.” 

There was a key difference in the way both of these deer spoke. Marja was low and almost menacingly soft, whereas the older deer was more eccentric and loud. Marja’s last sentence silenced the old deer. For a moment, no words were spoken.

“Heidät pannaan vankilaan aseet ensin, sitten kuulustella heitä.” he finally spoke again, as he was fixing to turn around and leave us behind.

Marja didn’t stop. “Yksi niistä on murtunut jalka vahinkoa, ilman riittäviä keinoja käsitellä sitä. He tarvitsevat tukea.”

The old deer turned his head toward Marja, his body still facing away from us. “Emme voi säästää näitä tarvikkeita anteliaasti. Ja miksi me? Olet vasta tavannut heitä.”

Marja trotted forward and leapt over the sandbag, talking to him while standing mere inches away from his face. She spoke softly, yet her tone was firm. “Vilhelm, kaikella kunnioituksella, nämä ponit ovat erityisiä. Ne eivät ole samanlaisia ​​kuin mitään niiden hymyilee, he eliitin. En tiedä, mitä heidän taidot ovat, mutta heidän suorituskykyään ei tulisi kieltää. He saattavat pystyä auttamaan meitä lopultakin toteuttamaan ratsiasta.”

I had to shimmy a little bit forward to get a better view beyond the small crowd in front of me. The old deer seemed to be pondering at Marja’s words, whatever they were. He finally turned his head to face us, his eyes immediately locking onto mine. Again, I felt violated inside out.

“Joka on loukkaantunut, ja miten?” He spoke again, turning to Marja.

“Vain yksi niistä. Hänellä on rikki takajalka. Heidän lääkintämies jo splinted heitä, mutta he eivät voi tehdä paljon enempää.”

More contemplation. I heard the slight shuffling of hooves behind me. I didn’t bother to look. 

“Selvä, Hieno.” he said, after a brief silence. “Tuo heidät, riisua niitä ja kuulustella heitä. Jos he oikeutettuja, sitten auttaa heitä. Antaa heille joitakin annokset, kun olet sitä. Ne näyttävät nälkäinen.”

Marja nodded at that, giving a quick salute, before turning to walk back toward the sandbag. The older deer continued to walk to the wall.

“Ponies, I have good news for you: you’re still alive,” Marja spoke to us in Ponish, her tone suggesting a dry attempt at humor. “But beyond that, you and your wounded comrade will be treated well. But, that is only if you will answer any and all questions we have about you. Who is the ringleader of this group?

“That would be me.” Brass spoke up, as she took one step forward.

“Your comrades will be taken refuge inside our bastion and will wait inside until we are concluded with our questionnaire. Your comrades may move and mingle with one another, but they are not to interact with any other deer. They will wait and will follow our orders until we say so. Do you understand?” 

I turned to look at Brass, who was making a face I couldn’t make heads or tails of. It looked protesting, though she solemnly answered with a nod.

“Perfect.” Marja said, as she patted the neck of one the deer who escorted us. “Tee lakaista tiimisi ympäri läntisen sanctum, ja huolehdimme ei noudateta. Raportoimaan kun olet valmis.”

The deer nodded, and gave a sincere salute. When he turned to leave where we came from, the rest of the escort followed. 

“Now, follow me.” Marja ordered softly, as we all did what we were told. One by one, we all vaulted over the sandbag wall on the other side. Storm had to hover over it, but he did so without Syringe’s help.

“Take it easy, you’re still swollen down there,” Syringe whispered to him.

“I know, I know,” Storm replied. When we were all across, Marja led us to the bulky heavy door that dominated the centerpiece of the wall. She gave a series of coordinated knocks, and the door opened immediately after on its own. 

“Ponies,” Marja turned to face us, standing inside while extending a hoof out to the side. “Welcome to the Bastion!”

We all gingerly stepped in, the bright light of the various torches littering this chasm burned my eyes a little. But it was definitely a sight to behold. The whole room was shaped like a weird cross, with four ‘wings’ that stretched out from a large central atrium - one of those said wings was where the entrance was located, where we were walking in from. The Atrium in question was a crudely constructed platform that resided over a cistern of sewage water, the platform also breaking off into separate wings from the center of the chasm. Various chairs and tables were scattered about on the platform, as well as support beams that were planted all around us. Each of them hosted a fire torch on each face of the beam. It was bright and lively, but in a bleak and melancholic atmosphere. 

Marja stood smack dab in the center of the atrium and shouted, “Aarne, Jalo; Tarvitsen sinua!” at the top of her lungs. Almost immediately afterward, two relatively young looking Deer galloped front as fast as they could and proceeded to salute. Even though they acknowledged our presence with weird expressions, they quickly stood at attention.

“Tämä musta Pony tässä tarvitsee lääkärin hoitoa. Escort hänet Infirmary ja tuoda hänet Leif. Ymmärtää?” Marja ordered. The two Deer simply gave a nod. Marja twisted her head at Storm. “There is a doctor who speaks ponish, but not as fluently as I. She can help your leg more thoroughly, but you must be patient and speak slowly to her when she’s instructing you.” 

“I’ll try.” Storm grunted.

“You have a doctor here?” Syringe asked, stepping forward. “I can help her if you’d-”

“No. I am at my limits of trust with you as it is. I am only asking him to go, and no more. That is all.”

“You're not gonna do some experiment on me while I’m away, are ya?” Storm almost jokingly said. 

“Please, we’re not monsters.” Marja replied. She then caught onto Brass’s look and rolled her eyes. “He’ll be fine, I assure you.” 

Brass was quiet for a brief moment but eventually agreed to let Storm go. Marja ordered us to keep moving forward while Storm was away. There were deer everywhere we looked as we kept moving. About at least two hundred of them, or so. 

Each of them were of various colors, each of them looking indistinct from one to the next. Some of them were standing still with weapons, some were busy eating, and some were just socializing with one another. And immediately after we trotted in, some of them darted their eyes at us. I could understand why - it had probably been years since they’ve seen another pony before. Some of those looks on their faces did not look hospitable.

A lot of eyes were glued to us. Faint murmurs and whispers could be heard around us, all of which I couldn’t interpret properly.

We continued to follow Marja through the crowd of disgruntled deer, making our way to the opposite side of the atrium into the far wing beyond that. The wing in question had another metal door that led even further beyond the main cistern. 

“How big is this place?” I asked aloud in awe.

“I can’t say with certainty, but quite big.” was all she said. She made it all the way to the door in question and pushed it open with a hoof, trotting further inside. We each followed in one by one, staying close to one another. We were led into a dark and narrow hallway, barely wide enough to fit a pony. Each of us was slightly cramped from the sides, the ceiling stretching up higher than I would expect. Dimmed spotlights were hanging overhead, illuminating the room in a soft, chrome light. The hallway did not continue on for long before we encountered another metal door. Marja proceeded through without hesitation, and -  once again - we followed. We were led to another cistern, though significantly smaller and compact compared to the one we were in prior. 

Like the previous cistern, it too had a platform that stretched over a churning body of water. The weathered wood looked old and eroded, constantly moist from the waste that it closed off from below. The artificial island was much smaller in comparison to the previous one, claiming it as the focal point of the room. Atop the platform was a a large, circular table that hosted many chairs around its perimeter. Sitting in most of those chairs were various Deerfolk that looked older than everyone else here, including the older Mariner Deer that we saw a little while ago.

Marja stopped just before the Table, the heads of each of the spectators staring at our group in bewilderment. Marja knelt on one of her legs and gave a bow. “Greetings. I bring you Ponies from Equestria who are fighting the Oppression within our former cities now as we speak. They are now yours to speak.” 

She stepped away from us off to the side of the table she remained standing on all fours in a stoic posture. Brass, Rain, Morning, Syringe, Pumpkin, and I were now caught in the spotlight. The table was cluttered with various charts, maps, graphs, and many smaller pieces of paper (which I assumed were either ‘reports’ or just ‘notes’). There were 6 Deer in total sitting in the chairs around the table staring at us, Marja being the exception. All of them were male. Marja trotted toward the Mariner and started whispering to him. I had no hope of hearing what was being said. They spoke to each other for a long while, before she stepped away and faced us. 

All of the “Council” looked just as old, dirty, and haggard as the Mariner. They each wore different clothing, symbolizing their origin of authority. The Mariner was the first to speak. However, he spoke in his native tongue and not ponish. We couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying. 

Thankfully for us though, Marja did. As the Mariner spoke, she translated for us.

“Ponies, you are now in our lands. And as such, any form of jurisdiction that you think you have over us is now gone. Though we share a common enemy, you were very close to being successful in compromising the operation we have established here. And for that I want you to recognize just how close you were to death not too long ago - if what Vilhelm here says is the truth.” Marja pointed a hoof at the Mariner.

Vilhelm continued to speak, which Marja translated. “Many of our scouting parties have returned with reports saying the same thing: Ponies are in our city fighting against out enemy. We want to know why.” 

Vilhelm was finished talking, yet Marja continued without him. “And although I have a good idea as to why you’re here, they don’t.”

“What exactly do you want from us?” Brass asked, taking one step forward from the makeshift line we were formed in. Marja spoke to the table again. 

One deer next to Vilhelm spoke up. He wore a greyish-tan uniform that was decorated with medallions and ribbons, though they look filthy and spotted up as if it hadn’t been cleaned for a long time. Marja once again translated what he said. 

“We are aware that the majority of the Ponies fighting against the Oppression are targeting specific Military installations. We do not have details about their motives, but we are aware of the destruction of several coastal artillery guns, not to mention a few armored vehicle assets belonging to the Changelings were neutralized. But out of all the reports from our scouts, there was one report we were skeptical of.”

Vilhelm then began to speak up after the old deer. Marja did not falter for even a second. “Your group was the only ones that are not actively participating in the fighting far south of here, along the coastline. Instead, you decided to walk North towards the Royal Palace - an area teemed to the brim with Changelings that are not to be trifled with. And yet, you persisted anyway. And during a close encounter with them, it almost compromised the integrity of this place of refuge - potentially resulting in the deaths of many Deerfolk here. Let it be known right now that this situation is not a pleasant one for you, Ponit.”

“How could you see us-”

SLAM!

A single, smashing hoof along the table silenced whatever pressing question Brass would’ve asked then and there, its boom reverberating across the chamber around us. Vilhelm spoke with a harsh tone and a low volume. 

“You are not to speak unless we finish speaking, point.” Marja reminded us grimly. Brass sighed through her nostrils quietly, backpedaling in line. As Vilhelm continued, so did Marja.

“Regarding what to do with your group, it is said that you were almost executed for trespassing our lands, for attempting to obscure potentially valuable information, and for almost succeeding in killing us all. In doing so, however, you’ve revealed something of great interest to us.”

Nopony dared to reply to that.

“From what I heard, it seems you happen to be information of a weapon that is potentially being harbored in the hooves of the Changelings here in Hjortland. Is this correct?”

A few of us nodded, some not doing anything - me included.

“You look hesitant.”

“We all know of its existence, yes.” Brass carefully said. 

A few heads of the council turned to one another, their features grim as Marja told them what we said. Vilhelm slowly stood on his hind legs, and carefully placed his forehooves on the table for balance. Slowly, and deliberately. He spoke again.

“Would you care to elaborate on what sort of weapon it is that you are attempting to find, and inevitably harbor for your own?” Marja transcribed condescendingly.

“We don’t plan on harboring it, we only-”

“Answer the question at hoof, Ponit.” Marja interrupted.

Nopony made a response for a long, cold silence. Marja looked annoyed. As she stepped forward to open her mouth again, Brass stepped forward - silencing the Doe’s words.

"No."

Al heads turned toward her as she stood defiantly. Marja's features creep into a frown.

"Why?" She asks with bitter contempt.

"Because doing so would violate the oath of secrecy we have sworn to maintain even unto our dying breath. And we are not going to violate that oath even if we knew the answer to your question, which we do not. All we know is that it is a dangerous weapon that is capable of Mass Destruction. Thats it."

Brass picked her words carefully. A half-baked lie sprinkled with truth. As such, no words from Marja (or any of the deer) were formed. For the longest time, Marja seemed content with staring at us. 

And although it felt like she was pretty much biased against us, I noticed something about her.

Marja gazed at us not out of spite or mistrust, but rather an unprejudiced contemplation. She translated to the deer our reply for a while, and the council once again looked at one another with uncertain expressions. Simultaneously, they began to speak among each other; as if they were trying to negotiate on what to do with us, perhaps.

About a minute later, one of them silenced the table with a hoof raised in the air. Immediately they ceased bickering. Vilhelm kept his hoof raised for about ten seconds before dropping it. He gave a nod to Marja, which was returned. Vilhelm continued to talk, his voice coarse like gravelly sandpaper.

“A bold presumption coming from an outsider who nearly caused our extermination." Marja sneered. "I never thought Ponies could have such arrogance in their souls. How far has your species fallen out of grace?” Marja spoke bitterly. I couldn’t help but cringe on the inside. Looking at Brass, she looked like she was in utter disbelief. She was mouthing the word ‘arrogant’ as she thought to herself.

“... I guess that’s something we have in common, considering that both of our species were invaded by the same pest we’ve learned to hate. I’d say we’re doing a better job than you so far.”

Marja scoffs with a frown. “You have no right to speak to us like that! Our Kingdom gave a grand sacrifice in the name of defending our homeland and loved ones!” she yelled, taking one step forward. It was the first time I’ve seen her raise her volume, and it kind of caught me off guard at how quickly her voice can change from being soft and silky, to cold and loud.

“Oh really? You want to talk about 'suffering' now, is that it!?” Brass did the same, her voice very subtly quivering as if she was trying to hold back unprecedented emotions. She kept trotting forward slowly toward Marja. “I have just as much of a right to despise and to kill anything regarding these fucking Changelings, just as much as the next creature that’s suffered in their hooves! Do you even know how much has changed over the past few years since your country surrendered?!”

Marja started to back away Brass’s rage. The council stood up, looking alert and outraged but were otherwise silent. Brass continued her rant.

“These Bugs are the definition of Insanity! They’re just… unwavering in their goal to conquer everything in their wake! First, they Target the Deer! Then they target us! Then the Yaks, then the Buffalos, then the Crystal Ponies; I’ve even heard rumors that they’ve even planned to go after Nova Griffonia When this is all said and done! Who cares if it’s literally on the other side of the fucking Continent for them? They don’t! Because they don't give a fuck! 

"All they care about is war, and that’s all they’ll do! It’s like their fucking purpose - it’s as if they all had Cutie Marks related to war, and the fucking Queen’s like ‘Yeah, sure! Roll with it!’ Do you really think they’re gonna ever stop?!"

Everything was still for a brief but noticeable moment. Ever since she made the remark about Cutie Marks, the Deer turned toward one another in confusion. (Rightly so, considering they probably don’t know what those are.) Head tilting down to the floor, Brass’s voice quivered a little.

“I know first hoof what awaits for us. Our future, should we all fail: a lifetime of misery; unyielding and pitiless. All I ask is a little cooperation, in exchange for my willingness to cooperate with you all so that maybe - just maybe - we could prevent any more suffering that needs to occur. This so-called weapon that high command is stressing about is still running amok somewhere that could very much spell the end of all of us. And here you all are, trying to deny me the right of spite against my enemy and to roam around in your so-called ‘territory’ and try to stop us from preventing a catastrophe! And all because we were trying to fucking hide from certain death!”

I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. In my time I knew Brass Screws, I had never seen her like... This.

She was always aggressive maybe, but this was different. Before she resumed yelling, a quick gust of wind billowed from under her as she rapidly ascended upward by just inches from the floor.

“I was told to fight Changelings, not to fight Deer. If you can help us, then we can help each other. But if you’re gonna be against us, then stop pretending to be our friend.”

Nopony dared to breathe for a short while. Marja was at a loss for words. Brass still hovering in the air quietly. Even the council was shocked into silence. I didn’t really know how to react to that. But I didn’t really like it. It seemed like a hostile silence.

Marja took the moment to recollect her senses, and contemplated quietly. She stared at the floor, not making a single sound. After what felt like an eternity, she looked back to Vilhelm. She trotted over towards him quickly, and softly whispered into his ear. It lasted longer than I anticipated, about a full minute. Vilhelm exchanged a few whispers of his own, before they both nodded toward one another. Vilhelm then stood up, and turned to face the council.

“Neuvoston ... Olemme ehkä löytäneet valopilkku kaikkein odotetuin ongelma. Olen vain pyytää sinua uskomaan vain tämän kerran.” He said. “Kysyn teiltä nyt: onko minulla luottamuksesi?” The council turned to one another, not one of them speaking. It felt like an eternity had passed already, and no Pony spoke up at all. 

Then a hoof was raised in the air from the table, extending vertically straight and upright. It was soon followed by one more hoof, then another. And another. And another. Soon, all of the hooves from the council were raised in the air. Not one word was spoken. I had no clue what was happening but I strangely felt more at ease upon seeing the exchange of silent, unanimous agreement amongst the Deer.

Vilhelm gave them a nod and prompted the council to lower their hooves, which they did. Marja meanwhile remained silent and still the whole time. But upon seeing Vilhelm nod back to her, she smiled. And this smile of hers… I didn’t know how to feel about it. It looked genuine and sincere, but I did not know why she was smiling

Marja took several steps toward Brass, who had not stepped back in line even after her outburst. When they were just inches away from each other, Marja spoke first. She was still smiling.

“I respect you, Ponit.” she complimented. “I’ve known a lot of Ponies in my life, before the war I mean. And my impression of your kind was that you were all yellow bellies. However, I can clearly see that is no longer the case for your people, and calling you yellow bellies was nothing short of an insult. And for that,” Marja took a moment to pause, and bowed her head. “I am sorry.”

Brass didn’t reply to that. Marja didn’t stop though, ash she stood back upright.

“Do you trust me, Ponit?”

Brass understandably looked confused. “Wh-... Wha?”

Marja chuckled once, a dry and brief laugh. "Good answer," she chortles. “Ponit, we would like to cease hostilities between us. Although we had a... rough start with our encounter, it’s just as you’ve said: we have a common enemy. And truth be told, you could not have arrived at a more opportune time.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Brass asked. Marja turned back to Vilhelm. He simply gave a solemn nod, which prompted Marja to turn back to Brass.

“As you said before, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ And the agreement between this meeting was ‘help me help you.’”

“We never formally set any kind of agreement before.” Brass rebutted.

“True, which is why we are setting one in stone right now. You may be able to help us, and in turn we can help you immensely it seems.”

“How so?”

“I can show you, but I need your word before we can begin. Or, if you want, I could just tell you right now what that would be. But trust goes both ways. If I trust you enough to tell you what you want to know, but you don’t trust me enough to follow me - then we are at an impasse. If you trust my word enough to listen to me, but not enough to follow me, then what good is it for us to help you with your lack of cooperation in return? And if that were the case, many Deerfolk would view you as hostiles.”

Brass contemplated deeply at this, unable to answer. To be fair, Marja was right. The exchange of mutual trust between the two of us, despite how little of it there was, was still possible. In this instance, trust truly did go both ways. I too was lost in thought, pondering about the possibility of that happening.

Marja continued, sensing Brass’s hesitation. “Think of it like what you said earlier: You asked for a little forgiveness and cooperation, and I’m providing just that. All I’m asking in return is the Exact. Same. Thing. If you can do that, then we can truly help each other here. But I cannot do that until I have your trust, so I’ll ask again: do you trust me, Ponit?”

Marja reached a hoof out to Brass. I think she was wanting to shake hooves. Brass looked down on it, understandably hesitant. “Do I even have a choice?” Brass asked. Marja’s lips formed into a small smile. Not a smirk either, a genuine smile.

“No. You don’t. But the fact that you are smart enough to realize that means that you are definitely smarter than average. Which is good, we need smart ponies. And you need us.”

“How will you help me?”

Marja’s smile disappeared. “I would rather chat about such procedures with somepony I can trust, rather than with some stranger.” 

Brass had no response for that. She instead was focusing her gaze on Marja’s still extended hoof.

“My arm is tired, pony.” Marja wryly said.

“Okay okay… fine.” Brass answered, reaching out to Marja. She recoiled back her hoof.

“I need a definitive answer to know that you are serious, not just a ‘fine’. To shrug off this responsibility you now possess would be nothing short of an insult.”

Brass contemplated her words carefully. After a few seconds of wrought up silence, she finally grabbed hold of Marja’s hoof with one of her own and began shaking it slowly. “You have my word.” she answered. The two were locking their eyes on one each as they shook hooves. 

“By accepting this responsibility you not only agree to assist us and only us as you are combating the Changelings during your stay, but you will also willingly answer any questions we ask of you. Understand?”

Brass immediately ceased shaking her hoof. “Are you asking me to abandon my ponies? You never mentioned that before!”

“By the definition of ‘Your Ponies’ I assume you are not referring to your squad and instead to the ones down south, yes?” Marja asked with a sly overtone. “Because if that is what you are asking, then is that really so much to ask for you to do something you already were doing?

Brass didn’t move a muscle for about ten seconds, before she sighed. “... No, it’s not.” she answered, sounding defeated.

“Splendid!” Marja exclaimed, as she turned around to face the Council. But as she did so, she paused. “Oh! One more thing, Pony - um, what is your name anyway?”

“Brass Screws.”

“Brass, I need the word of your fellow ponies behind you to also follow through with this agreement that we’ve forged. That being said, they do not have to answer to me or to the council - only to you.”

“Does it really matter, since we-... I, have already agreed to help you?” 

Marja’s face gave a subtle smile at Brass’s response.

“Not really, no. But this is more of a test if you will.” Marja turned their heads toward us. “Not that they’ve had much of a chance to voice their opinions and concerns as of late, anyway.”

Brass twisted her body to face toward us. I turned my head and saw the hesitantly confused expressions that the rest of us had etched on our features.

“In case you can’t tell I’m giving you permission to speak, Ponies.” Marja spoke almost humorously. 

My thoughts and emotions regarding this whole ordeal were very mixed and intertwined with each other. My common sense, my priorities, and my morals are all conflicting with each other with no decisive winner. On the one hoof, we are not really in any place to refuse her offer, as Marja had explicitly said. And if what Marja had said was true, she said she could help us if we accept her. On the other hoof, her subtlety and sense of intrigue sent off red flags for me. She seemed amicable and negotiable, but not really…. Trustworthy.

 So far, besides sparing our lives that she herself would’ve reversed at any given time, she gave no real reason for us to trust her besides the fact that she said she would help us. She said trust goes both ways, but a part of me felt that she didn’t truly believe that. 

Or maybe… maybe I might’ve been overthinking it? Could I just be paranoid? I didn’t really know for certain. I felt scared, confused, conflicted, relieved, and disdainful. And all of those emotions amalgamated into a weird blend of uncertainty. 

But one thing I was certain of was this: as much as I disliked Marja, that was not the same case toward Brass. She is probably the most righteous and diligent out of all of us.

And with that logic...

“I trust her.” I said aloud, stepping forward just a little bit. All eyes locked on me almost instantaneously. “If Brass thinks this is the right call, and if she thinks this is necessary, then I trust her judgment better out of all of us.”

No words were spoken after my sudden outburst. Brass gave me a look that I couldn’t really interpret what it was supposed to be. 

Marja gave a warm, and respectful smile. I turned back behind me, and no other pony followed me or spoke up. I suddenly felt a bit anxious about being the only one who spoke up. I turned back toward the Council, who gave no visual reaction.

“If Sunshine says she trusts her, then I do too.” I then heard Syringe pipe up behind me toward my left side. I felt immensely grateful that at least she was also on board. It didn’t stop there, though.

“I trust her.” Pumpkin spoke out, trotting towards my right side.

“So do I,” said Morning Dew, walking towards Pumpkin Patch. 

The only one who hadn’t answered was Rain Drop. He remained hesitant and visually apprehensive. “I… I don’t think…” he was attempting to speak, but he stammered and failed to find the right words.

Rain’s resistance seemed to have melted away from his features when we all turned to look at him. Ears wilting and head hanging in shame, he slowly trotted up toward the rest of us.

“We're all on board with this," Brass answered Marja.

“Splendid! Now we can really talk.” Marja turned back and trotted just a couple of steps toward the table, facing the Council as a whole and not at Vilhelm specifically. 

“Neuvosto olen ansainnut luottamuksensa. Voimme vihdoin alkaa meidän kansannousun. Onko minulla lupaasi?” She spoke, broad and loud. The table of Deer gave no sudden reaction. Silence flooded the chasm around us, only the sound of rippling water below the platform of the Cistern could be heard.

Bom. Bom. Bom.

A single hoof was repeatedly beating against the table. It was Vilhelm’s, as he turned back to look at the other council members while beating the table. 

Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

He was beating it at a quicker pace now, still eyeing the other Deer. Soon after, another Deer began to beat against the table alongside Vilhelm. Some of the papers and charts began to slightly float upward from the force and rhythm of the beating hooves.

Bom Bom! Bom Bom! Bom Bom! Bom Bom! Bom Bom!

More hooves slowly joined in against the beating of the table. One after the other, the Deer were slamming against the table vigorously in an unsteady and chaotic pattern. It was loud, booming, and authoritative. Some of the Deer even shouted it out in agreement as they were slamming the table. It’s echoes were reverberating off of the Cistern’s walls around us, amplifying the volume even more.

Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom!

Vilhelm ceased his rhythm and raised a hoof in the air above the table. Slowly, the table banging died down to total silence again. Vilhelm smiled softly and gave a nod to Marja - who watched as the whole event transpired in front of her. She nodded back, and faced us again.

“Okay Ponit, I have a proposition for you.”
> (A3) - Chapter 4: Litany of Duty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Chapter 4: Litany of Duty



“To die for a righteous cause is the highest honor.”







Sunshine Tempest



June 9th, 1014. Time Unknown.


The only noise that could be heard was the faint buzzing of the lightbulb above me. It was what snapped me out of my storytelling trance and back into reality. Bon Bon and the other… I guess “agents”, had gathered around the table with grim looks on their faces - save for the two that were standing at the doorway. I couldn’t tell if they were displeased with something I had said, or if they were just reluctant to believe what was being told. Or maybe it was something else entirely? Either way, I had no way of knowing for certain what they were thinking; Even though Bon Bon looked continuously more perplexed at my story so far, I could not tell what she was thinking or assuming of me unless she told me directly.

Bon Bon spent some time rummaging through the pages scattered across the tabletop, trying to find… something. Many of the documents looked bland and generic, seemingly unimportant, and I couldn’t lean in closer to get a better look due to my hooves being tied still. It was starting to become painful with how long they were bound there. 

Bon Bon eventually found what she was looking for, and pulled a paper closer to her with a hoof. Reading it carefully, she inquired to me again without even trading a glance in my direction. “Your Squad Leader admitted to the existence of the nuclear bomb to the deer, even after you said that only a few select ponies knew about it? It sounds to me like you lied to me.”

“I didn’t.” I rebutted. “Brass didn’t specifically admit to anything. All she said was that we were looking for a weapon capable of mass destruction. And that could mean a lot of things. In any case, no Pony or Deer ever mentioned anything about a bomb. Only a weapon.”

Bon Bon did not respond to this. She took a moment to finish reading whatever was on the document. Darting her eyes back and forth, she opened her mouth again. “It says here that several reconnaissance Pegasi teams were sent to Olenia for scouting, and have found no signs of any Olenian life. The Olenians were said to not be capable of such an organized resistance. What you are admitting about these Deer would imply that they were, in fact, capable of such resistance all this time”

“They hid in the sewers from the moment the Occupation of their country began. They have been fighting since day one, and they did not stop since. We just so happened to have waltz right into their hooves from the moment we escaped that Panzer group.”

“... and you said they escorted your squad back to their… what was it, Bastion?”

“Yes. We followed them to their Bastion, and they led us to their ‘council room’, as I’ve already mentioned.”

“And you also said that you and the Deer made an impromptu agreement with one another?”

“Correct.”

“What was this agreement?”

“It essentially boiled down to ‘we help you find a weapon so you can leave, and you help us fight Changelings’. It’s a bit more complicated than that, and it’s been years since then so the details are hazy. All I remember was that they agreed to help us find the weapon.”

“You mean the bomb?” Bon Bon reiterated.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“So... they trusted you enough to fight alongside you and your squad?”

“I guess so. Though it’s more to it than that.”

“Like…?”

“Well, they didn’t exactly ‘trust’ us; more like they tolerated us. We had a common enemy and it was pointless to try to fight amongst each other. But at the same time, I can tell they were viewing us with suspicion and intrigue on a level that didn’t allow them to trust us until they saw it for themselves.”

“I could care less about interspecies relations at the moment. I only want information regarding the Nuke, Sunshine.”

Her comment only made me more disdainful of her. She seemed utterly uninterested in everything and anything, except for that damned nuke. I was starting to fume on the inside, but I kept an even face.

“Anyways, you said they made a Deal with you of some kind. Then what?” Bon Bon changed the subject.

“The agreement was more than just a makeshift tag team against the Bugs. It was also a deal. The Olenians wished to make a deal with us.”

That got Bon Bon to raise an eyebrow. “A deal? Wha- What do you mean a ‘deal?'”

“The only reason that the Olenians spared our lives when we first encountered them was because of one lucky coincidence.” I stopped for a moment to fidget in my seat, struggling to find any sort of position that made me comfortable. “Which was the fact that Syringe knew New Changeling. The Olenians had stolen documents from the Changelings that were still waiting to be translated, and Syringe was the only one who could read it as fluently as she did when she spoke it.”

“Syringe - you’ve mentioned her about that rare feat of hers numerous times. How fluent is she exactly?” Bon Bon interrupted.

“Well, she wasn’t perfect per se, but she could read almost every word that was written well enough, so long as she understood it. She could speak better than she could read, weirdly enough.”

“Not uncommon to see. Some linguists are more auditory learners than visual. They can focus keenly on the pronunciation of a word and it’s syntax by hearing others speak it rather than reading it. I’m sure she was no exception.”

Thinking back on that now with Bon Bon’s logic… that made sense.

“I digress. You were saying?” She pressed me.

“Yes - The Olenians didn’t know of this at the time and were still indecisive on what to do with us by the time the council agreed to at least tolerate us. If Syringe hadn't stepped in, I do not know what would’ve happened.”

“What do you mean ‘step in?' What happened?” 

“Well… she kind of… revealed her gift by accident.”





“The council has permitted you ponies to be trusted. Now, for the sake of us being useful to one another, we count that you will follow through with your word.”

Nopony replied, but we all nodded in agreement.

“Excellent.” Marja accoladed, as she trotted towards the table near an empty seat. She did not sit down, and instead shuffled together several pieces of paper together with her hooves. Marja grabbed a small stack of papers and a large chart that dominated a good portion of the table. Spreading the map out with her hooves, she also managed to grab a stapler to pin the several stacks of paper together. “Come closer, ponies,” Marja asked of us. Each of us gingerly and slowly made our way towards the table of the Council.

As we got closer, Marja moved some stapled paper stacks aside. ”Feel free to peer at the map.” She spoke. Some of the papers looked like recorded documents, written in an objective and well-thought-out manner. Neither of us paid mind to it at all initially and instead gazed at the table. The large chart that dominated the tabletop contained a very detailed topography map, along with an atlas of the many different streets, roads, and alleyways in a specific province of the city. 

The Atlas was marked by drawings that contained very precise and detailed symbols etched all across the map, all of which in various colors; a red circle with an ‘X’ striking across the center of what looked like a supermarket; a green circle marked with a ‘+’ was marked atop of a clocktower; Several intersections marked with a red exclamation mark; Many different blocks of buildings were just crossed out in red diagonal lines, indicating their destruction - there was so much to look at, it was impossible to Interpret it all at once.

But the main Focal Point of the Atlas lies just in the center of the map: A large rectangular building that had an even larger foundation. It took up at least a whole block’s worth of space where its foundation stood. It was surrounded by a large red circle, with a drawing of a castle tower that was appended with a red skull in the center. Many arrows outside of the red circle were pointing toward it from all directions. 

“That large building - is that the Royal Palace?” Brass asked Marja, who of which nodded. “That looks… ominous.”

“More like impregnable.” Marja corrected. “Had you not wandered into our domain and continued your journey toward there, all of you would’ve surely died,” Marja spoke plainly. A cold shiver traveled from my tail up to my spine. “That is the main stronghold of the Changeling occupation in Hjortland. They’ve established that building as their FOB - their Forward Operating Base. It would’ve been suicide, even for Pegasi, to try and attack that place.”

I watched as Brass took a long moment to carefully study the chart, analyzing every detail that was seen on that chart. “Why do you have it all doodled up then like you’re planning on storming the place soon?”

“How droll of you to notice that.” Marja chuckled lightly. “That’s because we are planning on storming the place.”

“Oh…” Brass uttered. “Well… Since you apparently trust us with that sort of information, mind on elaborating us on what that’s got to do with us?”

“Gladly,” Marja answered as she paced over to the side of the table where most of the stacks of documents were located. Marja grabbed a stack of them and passed it on to Brass. “Tell me what you see,” she asked. Brass took only a second to read it. 

“It’s… Written in New Changeling.” She observed blankly.

“Correct.” she simply replied. “This was transcribed to the best of our ability in an attempt to find out what was going on. Most of it is procedural chit chat about ensuring the safety of the cargo and the success of an important delivery. A delivery that was scheduled to take place with a lull period of a week - this week. This means that whatever it is they’re shipping, they want to keep it safe.”

I peered over Brass’s shoulder and glanced at the documents. It was annotated all along the outer edges of the papers with various excerpts and paragraphs of the lengthy document being underlined and boxed. It stretched on for multiple pages. 

There were also these weird black boxes that covered some lines of the document, hiding their redaction. The various lines that were boxed, underlined, or otherwise annotated had Olenian writing off to the side or sometimes underneath it. 

The detail in the calligraphy of their annotations was impressive for a creature without magic. Even if they did mouth-write it, it must’ve taken years of constant practice. 

Ultimately though, it was useless for us to read it since neither of us knew Olenian.

“In many of the underlined segments of the first page, it states that the important logistics operation was to be conducted within the Hjortland limits by late May. It never specified a singular date or a timespan of when it would be completed, just a rough estimate. Keep in mind, we acquired these reports after a raid operation was well underway. It got ugly. Our scouts had also noticed an increased military presence revolving around the Hjortland city limits, primarily around the Royal Palace since then.

“At first, we had assumed they sent them to Hjortland to try and snuff us out after the failed raid. We had been a very annoying thorn in their side since the beginning, and we thought now was their time to try and finally finish us off. 

"But then... we had intercepted these documents, and realized that there was much more to it than that.”

Marja flipped to the second page of the stapled stack, revealing more annotations and redactions. “The details are hazy, and the Changelings emphasized that their secrecy was a top priority. And while we have some Deer here who could read New Changeling, none of them are fluent. What we could read from this though, we made sure we captured everything we could find. One day, during decryption, we found something interesting.”

Marja planted a hoof at the bottom of the second page, where a whole paragraph was underlined, save for a single sentence that was redacted. “This whole paragraph states that the motivation behind this operation was because of an unprecedented failure that had occurred within one of their new ‘experiments’ that their R&D Department was trying to develop. Whatever they said was being sent there and for what purpose was redacted, and we know nothing more than that. But what we do know was that since then, we’ve noticed a heightened presence of Changeling activity. The two dates correlate exactly.”

Marja then pointed the Northern sector of the map, toward the Royal Palace. “From where we are standing, the Palace is only about 600 meters away - not counting the elevation distance for us being underground.” Her hoof then trailed along with the paper and stopped by the southern coastline. “Your ponies have captured the attention of just about every single Changeling here. They truly think an invasion is coming, and the Bugs are in a bit of disarray. However, that is surely not going to last long; the Jaegers will almost certainly regain their organization and rout out your Ponies with armored support, once they arrive.”

“Jaegers? They’re here in the city?” Brass asked.

“Yes, and they were not here before. Although, I am not surprised by their sudden existence due to what has happened as of late. If this ‘weapon’ of yours turns out to be true, would you want to safeguard it at all costs if you were in their hooves?” 

A fair rebuttal. I most certainly wouldn’t want to lose it willy-nilly at any given time. And judging from Brass’s calculating expression, I imagine she wouldn’t too.

“Thought so - anyways, these Jaegers I’ve mentioned earlier are now heading south due to your brethren causing such an inconvenience to their operation. You’ve managed to grab the attention of one small group to come after you. Thankfully, they thought you were killed and they moved on. You ponies are very lucky today.” Marja casually commended. 

I felt a knot twist in my stomach at the fact that I could’ve possibly died three separate times today. It felt as though I was in a dance with death, and I’ve managed to pirouette my way out of his grasp without even realizing it.

“For quite some time now, the Royal Palace has always been an obstacle we couldn't overcome. Since they’ve converted the Broadcast Room inside to a propaganda station, it has always sowed discontent amongst the deer population - or what’s left of it.” 

That got my attention. “Yeah, about that.” I piped up, hoping I wasn’t in the wrong for doing so. Marja gazed at me, measuring me with her stern gaze. “Every city that was occupied by the Changelings so far is almost always empty. Nopony, no creature, is there for miles unless they’re in deep hiding or being harvested. I don’t understand it. What happened in these cities?”

My only answer was a sudden change of expression from Marja’s features. It looked blank and hollow. “Changelings are shapeshifters that rely on our life force as their energy by sucking it out of us. They’re willing to go through with the extremities of war and slaughter just to get what they so desperately need - do you really need my help to put two-and-two together to figure out what happened?”

“In Vanhoover,” I continued, “there was a tall spire that extended toward the sky, storing everypony they’ve harvested there. I don’t see that in your city.”

My rebuttal must’ve struck a nerve, or perhaps I may have been annoying her with these questions. Either way, she frowned scornfully. “Not every creature has as much ‘love’ in their energy like you ponies do.” She sneers with contempt. “Sometimes, they don’t need harvesting from Deerfolk. And if that’s the case, what do you think happens to them?”

I did not answer. I could only cringe as I backpedaled away from her. I already knew the answer all too well. She resumed her lecture as soon as I was finished. I felt even sicker now.

“As I was saying - for the past month now we were trying to set up some sort of offensive operation to recapture the Palace. We’ve planned extensively for quite some time now to try and retake the broadcast station for our use, and try to spread the word of our incursion to inspire any remaining freedom fighters in the country.”

“But then the whole logistical operation came to be, and it sullied those plans because of the reinforcements - correct?” Brass quickly asked.

“Correct - suspicious, is it not?”

“Yeah. It certainly is.” Brass contemplated with a hoof under her chin. 

“From what we can tell, the Changelings are almost concluded with their ‘operation’. And now that more of your kind are here stirring up trouble, it looks like a full-blown invasion to them. We need to capitalize on that.” Marja trotted slowly to the edge of the table and pointed at a very wide rectangular area of space that was in front of the Palace. 

“There is a Garden here, ruptured and ruined. But it is the least fortified area of the entire Palace Grounds. There will still be fortifications, no doubt, but the Changeling resistance is least concentrated in that particular area - especially during the fighting down south. In this said park are several Sewer Grates that litter the Sidewalks within that park. It allows us passage for our Kin to infiltrate.”

“Hold on, are you saying you want us to invade the Palace?” Brass carefully asked, which earned a genuine smile from Marja.

“With the way your kin had distracted some of the Changeling security there, you bet your flank I do.”

Brass was visually stunned, yet also intrigued. I looked at my squad around me, each of them noticeably hesitant. “What do you ponies think? Think it might be there?” Brass asked aloud.

“Best chance I’ve seen so far.” Rain answered.

“But what if it’s a trap?” Morning stepped forward.

All of us turned to Marja. “Well, we’ve considered the thought. If we were to emerge from the Park - or any area on the surface really - there is a chance they could be waiting for us to finally eradicate the remnants of our Attacking Force... 

"... But if a Pegasus could get a good view from the sky, however…” Marja gestured slowly toward us. “And if they could give us reliable information on what we’re dealing with before we begin our operation, then we can plan our attack more appropriately.”

“So… you want us to scout out the Palace then?” Brass asked conjunctively.

“Precisely.” Marja quickly gestured a hoof toward us as she spoke. “I only request one of you to go out and scout the area. Stay within a certain range and watch for patterns from afar. Because you are Pegasi, you can fly up to the clouds and remain hidden.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds.” Rain piped up, sounding apprehensive. “I’d say the possibility of being shot at while flying upward is a pretty fucking good deterrent.”

“Have you ever heard of a thing called subtlety?” Marja asked condescendingly.

“There’s nothing subtle about flying upward toward the sky, in the middle of a warzone!” Rain hovered gently to express himself with his hooves, which were mostly expanded outward to prove his point.

“Not with that attitude… and that eyesore of a Coat you got there.” Marja rebutted, Rain looking down at his Teal coat - which was bright and vibrant enough to be seen from a distance. “I see that the two of you are at least-”

“Hey… wait a second.” I suddenly hear Syringe call out to my left, closer to the table. Everypony had stepped aside to turn and look, as I saw Syringe peeking her head over her shoulder. Her hoof was firmly planted atop of several stacks of papers. “Uh… you said your name was Marja?”

“Correct,” she said.

“Well, uh, you might wanna listen to this - all of you.” Syringe ducked her head back down toward the table.

“What are you-” Marja attempted to ask but was cut off by Syringe’s blank, and slow voice.

“In… an effort to maintain Technological Supremacy, the R&D Department has... requested High Command - and inevitably our Queen herself - to grant them access for... unrestricted measures to... ensure... our addi- advantage, in the upcoming Research." Syringe slowly spoke in Ponish, loud and blankly as she translated the document for us. 

“After stating to the Queen that the... renovations... from the last test sessions would be a... significant upgrade from its predecessors... The Queen has finally agreed to approve of this restriction removal. And as such, the R&D Department has stated that the older models of this project must be renovated and repaired.

“The R&D Department has… re-re… reiterated, that the repairs should be… con...cluded… within the span of the designated… date and time. Should any form of... failure occur, it will result in harsh punishment … for all of you...”

The room was stunned silent. The council remained idle in their seats, their features unmoving. Marja was also quiet and blank in the face.

But my Squad? All of us were left with our jaws hanging… Except for Pumpkin Patch. He stood there with his brows raised.

“Its… I think… I think it really is here…” Syringe softly muttered.

Marja was the first to step up and speak. “You know how to read New Changeling?” 

“I can speak it too.”

Marja was stunned. I assumed that her entourages that annotated the documents were nowhere near as knowledgeable as she was.

“What else does it say?” Brass eagerly asked.

“Quite a bit of this was redacted, so not much else. Let’s see, uh…” Syringe continued to peer through the Document. “Uh… To… ensure the success of... the operation, a small Di… Di- Division of… Ya-... Yaëgers? They spell it with a ‘Y’?” Syringe sounded slightly baffled.

“Focus.” Brass reiterated.

“Right…” Syringe muttered. “The… The division will consist of about… 3,000 Troops being transferred to your location. Use them Well… This sounds like something a commander would want to see.”

“Unbelievable…” Marja muttered. I turned to look, some of the color from her coat was drained from her cheeks - giving a Paley Ghoul appearance. “You… Do you actually know how to speak it?”

“I… I read many books back in my training days way back when. I uh… got good at it over the years.” Syringe answered.

“Well… I’d say it’s legit then.” Rain then piped up behind me. “If they’re willing to send 3,000 Bugs to defend a city from so far away, why else would they go there besides protecting a potential superweapon? - No offense to you Marja.” he quickly amended, to which she simply responded with a cough in her throat.

“Well, Ponies; I’d say this changes everything,” Marja announced. “The council and I need to speak for just a brief moment if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Brass answered solemnly. Marja quickly trotted towards Vilhelm, who had been watching the whole ordeal emotionless from his chair. Marja leaned in toward Vilhelm to whisper into his ear. After a few seconds, his expression changes drastically. He then suddenly listens intently, and nods along with her conversation, occasionally whispering a few replies back at her. Finally, the conversation stopped, as Vilhelm quietly ordered one of the other deer from the table to get up from their seat and leave the room. Marja then quickly walked towards us.

“Ponies, The hour of reckoning for the Changelings will soon be at hoof. The Council and I need to speak alone with each other alone for some time.” Marja quickly spoke. “Vilhelm had just sent one of the Senior Officers to inform everyone in the Bastion that you are guests, and should be treated accordingly. You are to wait there until I come back to speak to, uh… Brass? - Yes, Brass again. Understand?”

“Um… So we’re just supposed to wait for you, is that it?” Rain asked.

“Don’t try to push our luck, Rain. We just have to do what they say.” Brass immediately replied, simultaneously answering Marja’s order.

“What about Storm?” Syringe then asked.

“Vilhelm has also taken care of that. His accomplice will check up on him to see how he is healing. Any more questions?” Marja asked, to which none of us replied. “Excellent. I will be seeing you soon then.” Marja said as she gestured a hoof toward the door.





Brass was seen pacing around amidst the center of a platform over the main cistern of the Bastion, where each of us had chosen to rest. Many Deer eyes were on us as we sat there, though none of them seemed hostile. They just looked… confused, if not a tad suspicious.

Brass had not stopped pacing in place for about 10 minutes now. The others were sitting there looking at her, me included. Each of us (except Brass) was sitting on our haunches in a makeshift and deformed circle around her as she paced within the area inside the Circle.

“Are you… alright?” I asked aloud timidly, aiming toward Brass.

“I’m just… thinking.” She answered back quickly.

“About?” I pressed her, curiosity getting the better of me.

“About… about this situation we’re in.”

“Yeah,” Rain piped up soon after. “I’d say it is a pretty shit scenario we’ve got ourselves.”

“Rain, I don’t want to hear your Nihilistic and Wry sense of humor right now - I need to think!” Brass spoke in a soft volume, yet her tone was anything but. She spoke with a hard frown. Syringe to my left spoke up next. 

“I uh… I don’t think this is a good time to be like that, Rain.”

“Every living moment I have on this squad is a good time for this - with all due respect.” Rain replied, bitter and grumpy. “Maybe if Syringe hadn’t revealed her linguistic side-talent, we wouldn’t be an errand pony for these Deer.”

“They haven’t even done anything to us yet. They’ve just talked to us.” I rebutted.

“And berated us, and threatened, and ordered us,” Rain added on. “Face it - if it weren’t for the fact Brass-”

“Shut it!” Brass spontaneously snapped at Rain, silencing him. Rain suddenly realized his error, as some of the Deer had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at us. As we noticed their presence, they simply just resumed whatever they were doing.

“May I remind you that we’re alive right now. That little ‘stunt’ I pulled there - in the sewers and in that council room - were all acts to keep us alive!” Brass harshly whispered toward Rain. “And right now, I have put us in a situation where we have to play ‘nice-pony’ to keep us alive even longer! And I am trying to figure out how to get us out of this fucking mess, and I don’t need your fucking ‘I hate life’ attitude distracting me right now - Am I clear?” She finished, her face leaning into Rain. I could tell that Rain wanted so badly to say something back. Yet as he just sat there unwavering, I could tell he knew the impracticality of that decision.

“... Crystal.” Rain muttered back, still and quiet.

“I just wish we could hear back what’s going on from Storm anytime now.” Syringe worriedly spoke. “His leg did not look good when he dropped down from the sewer. Combat stress didn’t help it none either.”

“That doe said she would have someone check up on him and report back.” Morning reminded her.

“Can we trust Marja though?” Rain wondered aloud. “I mean, she didn’t hesitate to kill us before Brass spoke up to her. What if we were to get on her bad side?”

Rain had a solid thesis. If we were to do something that identifies us as an enemy in her eyes, then who or what is to stop her from killing us afterward for the sake of her cause?

“Well, then I guess we better not get on her bad side then.” Pumpkin suggested. “Lest we want to get shot.”

“Easier said than done.” said Rain. 

“Like you have a better idea!” Syringe berated.

“You’re right - I don’t. But I guarantee that if I did have a better idea, it would involve more than just sitting here in this hellhole we found ourselves in.”

At those words, my instincts snapped me to observe my surroundings. The Cistern around us looked decayed and weathered, almost as if the effects of erosion were accelerating in here. Water was constantly dripping from the ceiling, though not in large doses. The overall lighting in this room was congregated around the central platform of the Chasm where we were sitting. It consisted of a bunch of oil lamps and lanterns, hung on the ceiling and some of them pinned to the walls of the support columns that held the leaky ceiling in place.

At that one good glance around though, I knew that Rain wasn’t that far from the truth about this place.

“Well if you do come up with a better plan, I’m all ears.” Brass nonchalantly spoke, continuing to pace around the platform. Rain didn’t even bother trying to reply to that. A part of me was deflated to see this division between the two only continue to grow.

After that, things got relatively quiet. None of us spoke another word. Each of us sat down in our own respective spots, while Brass Screws endlessly paced around thinking to herself. It was only at this moment - when everything seemed still and where all of us were just sitting here on this platform - that I realized something:

I had absolutely nothing to do at this moment.

I sat on my haunches leaning against a stone column that supported the chasm and sighed. Taking one more good look around me, I saw some Deer still turning their heads toward us. They quickly changed direction as I caught them glancing at us, resuming whatever work they were doing. They didn’t know why we were here as far as I know, but they did know that we share a common enemy. Though… I doubt that all of them will treat us amicably. And I wondered why.

At that thought, I suddenly remembered… I still had my books!

Gingerly pulling out the History of Equus from my vest pocket, I instantly noticed a small tear of the fabric inside the pocket. As I grabbed the book with my teeth and gently bit down to pull it out, something harder than the cover was painfully pressed against my teeth. Pulling it out, I saw what it was exactly that I bit into. A small piece of jagged metal had pierced the hardcover of the book, which was embedded into the first few pages on the other side. Pulling it out, it looked like a tiny metallic dagger with no hilt. The metal was jagged and bent but still was razor-sharp.

I realized then and there that it was a stray piece of shrapnel. And miraculously, the shrapnel was only stopped by the book. I trailed my thoughts back to the Grocer on the surface from earlier - how we narrowly avoided death by escaping. I remember how the Panzer blew open a gaping hole inside the Grocer, sending flying bits everywhere. The book just happened to be in the right place at the right time to stop a stray piece of shrapnel from hitting me. Yet at the time, I didn’t notice it.

I couldn’t really fathom how lucky I was really. It seemed surreal and almost unbelievable, how a book saved my skin. I tried to push that thought deep into the back of my head for now and instead turned my eyes to my hooves. I held in my hooves something that seems trivial… yet for some reason, I couldn’t help but feel like something is… urging me to read it further. Like a voice nagging at the back of my head, telling me to keep going. And I had no better use of my time as of now, so that little voice sounded completely rational.

Opening the cover again, I was trying to remember where I last left off. Some of the first couple pages were ripped and torn asunder by the piece of shrapnel, but they were pages of Pony Anatomy. It seemed relatively unimportant to me, so I kept flipping pages. The last thing I remember distinctly was the book talking about Dragons, and that it wasn’t yet concluded with the chapter. Quickly flipping through the pages one by one, I kept speed reading trying to find any headline that stated which chapter I was on. I was on two, then onto three. 

About two and a half pages after the start of Chapter Three, I found where I had left off. I immediately began to find a paragraph that seemed unfamiliar to me, and proceed to read on from there…

“... All of the races have there own History, but the Dragons are by far the most peculiar of them all.” I softly read to myself.

I sped along to the next Paragraph and… conveniently enough, It was about the Deer.

“... The final race to include would be the natives to the cold fjords and steep mountains of Olenia - the Deer. These Deer have lived in this ancient land for more than a millennia, much like how we Ponies have lived in our native land of Equestria for even longer. Olenia can trace its lineage back to 2 BLB when King Harald Fairantlers of Hjortland united several of the petty kingdoms of the deer. Olenia has since been a seagoing nation, with bustling trade ports.

“In the very early days, the deer launched regular raids against Equestria, plundering their sea villages with deer longships. The two monarchies exchanged skirmishes with one another for years. However, in 143 ALB a permanent peace was signed, though occasional unauthorized raids have occurred since and Pony-Deer relations have remained somewhat standoffish.

That bit of information was somewhat rivetting to hear about. I had always heard that the two had bad history in the past, but I never knew that they actually started it. It lasted for almost one and a half centuries. I glued my eyes back to the page.

“To the north, occasional incursions from the Changeling Lands have been a problem, though fortunately, the Changeling Lands have always fought each other far more than outsiders. In spite of these raids, the deer have generally enjoyed the same legendary peace that has blessed Equestria. And this relative Peace lasted for centuries.

“The deer began their own industrialization alongside Equestria decades after the Industrial Revolution took Equus by storm. In 952 ALB, Industrialization truly begins for the Olenians, with many factories and manufacturing companies being established at a very rapid pace across the country. In 961 ALB, a company dubbed ‘Lokia’ was founded. Decades later, they became renowned across the world for their production of durable electrical equipment.

“Due to the series of rapid industrialization in the Olenian’s Economy, trade between the Equestria and Olenia flourished. It even helped both nations thrived in the circumstances. Trade income was booming, which cause some minor gangs of pirates to form around the southern coastlines - prompting Olenia to invest in a proper military, despite its lack of population. 

“Though the Deer could not effectively raise even a national guard, they could raise a merchant navy. And so it was. Somewhere between 960 and 980 ALB, the Deerfolk of Olenia experienced what was considered to be the closest thing to a Golden Age for them; Ports turned into bustling Metropolises; Trade Income was higher than ever - especially with the constant discovery of new Natural Resources; The Merchant Navy was the most prestigious naval power of the continent at the time, (With Equestria in tow for that same title.)

“For as long as the Deer could remember, they had never experienced Prosperity of this magnitude before. Everything could theoretically be considered perfect. If there was one thing within the Deer society that could possibly be classified as a ‘division’ between the people, it would be the Religion that the Deer possess. They have a loose religion of related customs and gods that focuses on calling upon appeasing local spirits and giving offerings to a small pantheon of gods. These gods are:



Ukko - King of the Gods. God of justice, war, and wisdom.

Pellervo - God of the harvest and fertility.

Vellamo - Goddess of the sea and weather.

Tuoni - Goddess of death.

Loviatar - Goddess of disease and decay, daughter of Tuoni.


“These deities are spread across the country in various levels of worship, but all of them are equally accepted across all Deerfolk.”

Religion was never a big part of my life. I mean, I say that when I live in a principality that has monarchs raising the Sun and Moon. But I was never as staunch of a believer like how some would turn out to be. 

“Since the recent restoration of the Equestrian Diarchy, the Olenian heir Princess Velvet became interested in Equestrian harmonic principles, and Equestria eagerly awaited her ascension as Queen when her father, King Aldar II passed.”

Velvet… that’s who Marja was talking about. She was supposed to be the next heir to Olenia. Yet she didn’t. She was replaced by Johan, as Marja said… I read on to figure out what happened.

“To everyone's surprise, King Aldar II died under suspicious circumstances. His illegitimate son Johan quickly seized the throne with the help of religious leaders, corrupt businessdeer, and greedy nobles. ‘Queen’ Velvet, the rightful heir, later fled to Equestria sometime before the coronation.

“The crown sits uneasily on Johan's head, as he faces pressure from all sides. Queen Velvet attempts to rally support with the superpower of Equestria, the people grumble under his rule, religious leaders wield too much influence, and the corrupt businessdeer holds back the economy. A Great Change is about to commence within Olenia, one way or another. Whether from within or from without, that remains to be seen.”

Dying under ‘Suspicious Circumstances’ sounded like horse apples to me. It felt, in a way, like it was a lazy excuse for a clever assassination. My first assumption would obviously be against Johan, yet I had no way of knowing for sure. And I don’t think anyone else truly knows who did it, or will anytime soon. 

I was about to read onward when I heard galloping hoofsteps coming towards us from my right. As everyone and I turned to look, we saw that same Brown Coated Deer rushing toward us from the council room, rushing alongside with Marja. Everypony in my squad simultaneously ceased whatever they were doing to stand at attention toward the Deer. 

Brown Deer spoke toward Marja aloud, apparently telling her what needs to be said. She then spoke up, “Ponit, you have been authorized to speak to your comrade in the Infirmary once more for about 5 minutes if you wish. You may choose to hang outside the Infirmary if you wish to not speak with him, but no further. When you are done, you are also ordered to follow me back to the Council Room for an important discussion. Understood?” she asked with haste.

None of us were in any position to decline her, really. So we each inevitably nodded along with her order as if they were from Brass, she herself answered for all of us by saying “Yes” aloud. And soon just like that, we were following Deer again. I quickly tucked my books into my pockets, as I marched in line behind Rain to follow Marja back to Storm Cloud.





The Infirmary we found ourselves in was an overstatement. It looked more like a Quarantine Area than anything; basic cots with mattresses all lined up neatly against the wall, some of them occupied already. Several Deerfolk were dressed in medical uniforms as they tended to their patients. Some of them took a quick second to gaze at me, but didn’t look for long as they resumed their duties.

There were several wooden tables set beside each other. Cluttered atop all of them were bandages (some of them caked with blood), syringes, a few beakers and vials, splints, and I think some zip-ties - probably used as tourniquets.  

Marja led us along the neat rows of Cots that stretched about the room, until he led us to one with a different occupant - Storm Cloud. He took notice of us walking to him.

“Oh hey.” He laid on his haunches to the edge of his cot, his leg looking better than it had before. It’s bandages were clean and white, and there was a weirdly shaped board with metal bars that can only be described as ‘restrictive’ it was wrapped uncomfortably around his entire leg. “Good to see that the Deerfolk are at least tolerating us.” he bantered.

“That makes two of us.” Brass softly murmured.

“Tolerate is one way to describe it.” Marja dismissively spoke.

“They treated you okay?” Syringe was the first to ask.

“Yeah, more or less. They can’t speak to me, and I can’t speak to them - but they at least know what they’re doing.”

“I can see that. You have a proper Splint now.”

“It hurts.” Storm griped.

“It’ll get better quicker this way.” 

I didn’t bother saying a word. I heard all I wanted to know just by staying silent.

“I don’t suppose it’s too much to ask to hurry this along please?” Marja ushered, but in a tone that suggested it was in our best interest to oblige. “We have a meeting waiting for us and the Council does not like to be kept waiting.”

Brass turned her whole body around to face Marja directly. “I have a question if you don’t mind.”

I watched Marja’s features somewhat contort with annoyance but otherwise relented. “What is it?”

Brass took a brief moment to think as if she was choosing her words with careful hesitation. “What exactly does the Council want from us at this point?”

“That’s for them to say, for me to translate, and for you to find out.” Marja answered quickly.

“Can’t you just tell us now? Or do you not know?” Brass asked again with a hint of contempt.

“I do know. I’m just not obligated to tell you at this time. And in any case, I’d rather not discuss such topics in a place like this.”

“Yes, I can relate to that - Storm, however, has not heard a single word of what has happened over in that council room, and therefore I am responsible to inform what they want from us. But you know more than I do, and I want a definitive answer.” 

Brass’s argument did not sway or startle Marja, but it did silence her. She took a moment to think of what to say, before finally sighing. 

“They are asking for you to do a favor for them, and then we will do you a favor in return - as to accomplishing your original task. That much I am willing to say.”

Brass could clearly see that she was not going to get any further, so she accepted whatever answer she got and nodded. To be fair, it was an informative answer.

“And what of Storm Cloud?”

“What about him?”

“What will be happening with him when we do this ‘favor’ of yours?”

“Well, given that he is incapacitated and is temporarily unable to move effectively in combat, he will remain here.”

“Whoa Whoa, you’re saying I have to stay here for hours? While they’re gone?” Storm objected.

“What other use do you have?” Marja replied.

“I can still fly!”

“And what if you get shot in the wing? What then?” Syringe then piped up.

“Wha- you’re okay with this?!” 

“No, I’m not. But her reasoning and logic are sound. You cannot fight at all until that leg is healed.”

“I hate it, but Syringe is right.” Brass agreed. “It’s for the best. You’ll be in good hooves while we’re gone.”

Storm Cloud clearly didn’t like what he was hearing. He shifted his position to sit more upright, causing him to wince in pain. “But what if you need me?”

“We’ll just have to avoid the Panzers like the plague for the time being. In any case, it wasn't like we’re not doing that anyway.”

“Are you done now? They’re waiting for us.” Marja pressured us in a somewhat belligerent yet apologetic tone.

“Yeah, we’re done now.” Brass relented, as each of us turned to leave once again.

“Don’t die of boredom while you’re here. Bad for your health.” Syringe joked dryly while looking back. Storm couldn’t help but chortle in kind.

“Break a leg I guess… well, not literally.”





We all walked back in a clumped line back through the very narrow hall that led to the council room. Upon entering the building, we were greeted by the sight of every Deer in the Council standing around the table. They all spoke within their own dialect, some of them seemingly arguing amongst each other. The Rest seemed to be in some form of indistinct conversation that I had absolutely no hope of understanding.

When Marja opened the door and the rest of us walked in, they didn’t even notice us. They seemed very focused on their back-and-forth bickering. 

“Did… did we come at a bad time?” Rain quipped. 

“No; they are almost always like this.” Marja sighed. “The Council must reach a 7:3 ratio of agreement or higher before acting or deciding upon anything. Usually, that takes time and arguments for that to happen.”

“That sounds a bit time-consuming.” Brass pointed out.

“When discussing decisions that could determine the fate of our people, it’s for the best.” Marja Rebutted.

Every Deer that was arguing still didn’t take heed of our presence, as their disagreements continued to increase in volume.

“What are they arguing about?” I asked Marja.

“From what I can tell… they’re trying to figure out how to best scout the Castle.”

“It’s easier for Pegasi then for Deer, I’d assume.” Pumpkin spoke for the first time in a while. He was always so quiet.

“We have other advantages. We are more Dexterious with our Hoofwork and Fine-Motor Skills.”

“You mean you… you can grab things with hooves with ease?”

“Most of the time. Like you Ponit, we also rely on Magnetic Horseshoes for handling weaponry. But we are able to navigate terrain quite better than most hooved creatures - Pegasi being the Exception, of course.”

“Well, what’s the problem then?”

“The problem is that the Council has no reliable info on the Castle itself, so they had to rely on guesswork for the time being. They’re trying to find a way to fix that.”

“Didn’t you mention some time before that you wanted one of us to do scout work?” Brass immediately asked.

“It was going to be part of my proposal, that is… until your comrade revealed her gift.” Marja gazed toward Syringe, who promptly shied away a couple of steps.

“Don’t you need her?”

“Hardly not now, anymore. Most of the documents were redacted. The ones your comrade was reading were some of the first pages. The rest were details on the unit detachment that was guarding their treasure trove - which was almost completely redacted. I doubt you’d help us any more than you already did.”

“So… why are we here then?” Brass asked.

“The council will not take long, the argument seems to be almost concluded.”

“How much longer exactly do you think this will be?” Brass asked; she sounded unconvinced.

“Any second now.”

The old Deerfolk continued their bickering for about a minute. They exchanged heated paragraphs of dialogue toward one another in a free-for-all, that I couldn’t tell who was arguing with whom. But one Deer spoke out loud and boldly, in that kind of volume that demanded your attention at the earliest notice and not in a pleasant way. The rest of the council room ceased their seemingly petty disagreements and focused their attention on him.

The old Deer in question was Vilhelm.

“Vihollinen on niin kiireinen keskittynyt muihin saalista ja muut sukulaiset, jotka vaanivat meidän kaupungissa. Ne voidaan valmistaa meille, mutta he eivät odota meitä.”

“What is he saying?” Morning whispered to Marja.

“Shush and I’ll tell you.”

“He ovat alkaneet tämän maahanhyökkäys ja tämä kauhea sota, ja meillä on keinot tuoda lähemmäksi loppua.” Vilhelm shouted once again, whilst pointing a hoof directly at me. This very much so caught me off guard, as I didn’t know exactly as to what he was saying.

Marja and I exchanged glances, as she too looked confused.

“Meidän Pony tuttavia auttavat meitä taistelussa hyönteisiä. Ne antavat meille luotettavaa tietoa tarvitaan.”

“Ohh…” Marja softly uttered.

“What? Why did he point at me?” I quickly asked.

“He needs you to be his eyes.” Marja answered just as quickly. 

I froze, yet I didn’t know from what. Another big responsibility tossed on my already full plate. I felt somewhat dizzy.

“Tänään meillä on mahdollisuus sytyttää sammunut Kindle kipinä meidän kauan odotettu vallankumousta - ja pelkäät!? Miten te kutsutte itseäsi Deer, jos näytät Fear!?” Vilhelm shouted with all of his soul, silencing whatever noise there was in the Chasm. Each of the Deer looked up toward Vilhelm with a mix of bewilderment, fear, and admiration. Indeed, I too felt like I was in the presence of someone with great authority - despite him not being Royalty… as far as I can tell.

“Vihollinen voi piiloutua Silmät taivaalla. Vihollinen jättäytyä sen ulkopuolelle ja on haavoittuva. Ja Meillä on mahdollisuus työntö jyrsimessä heidät pois meidän kaupunki kerta kaikkiaan! Oletko ole minun kanssani?” Vilhelm finally concluded with a resounding shout yet again. And - yet again - the council was silent. 

There was a pause that seemed to have encompassed the very air around us, almost suffocating us. It sounded heavy and dreadful, almost like History was deciding it’s fate right here right now… it’s funny though. It doesn’t really feel like that.

It just feels like everything else. Frightening and dreadful. 

Bom. Bom. Bom.

That familiar table-pounding sound was heard again from the council table. And almost instantaneously after that, more Deer joined him.

Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom!

A choir of percussion echoed the expansive walls and ceilings around us the beat became louder and grew more intense with each added participant.

Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom! Bom!

Vilhelm stood up and marveled at what he saw. He couldn’t help but smile softly.

Me though? I felt like I wanted to cringe, throw up, and dig a hole in the ground to hide. My heart accelerated faster.

“Well Pony,” Marja spoke loudly, over the sound of hoof stomps.

“It looks like you get to be a hero.”

It felt anything but heroic. I felt like I was going to die...
> (A3) - Finale: Coward Pt 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Finale: Coward Pt 1



“How does one repay others when what was stolen from them is intangible; a concept?”







June 9th, 1014. Time Unknown.


How did I get myself into this mess?

Not even a day ago, I was still in Equestria, trying to figure out where exactly my life went terribly wrong in an effort to keep myself sane. Though it's true that I was about to leave Equestria behind to see a country I had never seen before and was ordered against my volition to accomplish a mission that would most likely result in my untimely and unremarkable demise, at least I was still alive to consider the absurdity of the situation. Sure, this wasn’t what one would exactly call “high living” but it sure beats being dead in my opinion.

And although I never truly made peace with that sobering reality, I had learned to swallow the fear for long enough to at least stay functional. That isn’t to say that I wasn’t aware of my own fallacies - the fear would be debilitating enough to kill me if I let it. It wasn’t easy for me to learn that particular lesson, to live with my faults and be expected to do good with them. 

Not like I had a choice in the matter.

And yet, despite the obvious consequences, it was nevertheless arduous, to have to swallow your existential dread when you are faced with another injunction on top of the already gargantuan pile of bullshit you have to endure.

And that was exactly what was expected of me.

Standing in the cistern of the Bastion, in front of a lone table that was littered with a variety of equipment and weapons - Grenades, Binoculars, Gas Masks, etc. - I found my mind reeling back the last twelve hours on a loop. 

From the moment I had gotten here, death had reared its ugly head out on numerous occasions. And every time thus far, whether by luck or by some divine interference, we had managed to avoid its unwavering grasp for the time being.

Staring at the equipment in front of me knowing what I have to do, I was fairly certain that I was about to break that winning streak. 

Yay me.

“This is the best we have to offer you,” A deer spoke to me, “only take what you can carry.”

I nodded along as my eyes were fixed on the table. My mind, however, was elsewhere.

I thought back to my night in Vanhoover. How many times during that night had I almost died? The memories overwhelmed me; The brutal close-quarters fight in the alleyway; the raid on City Hall; The close call with the tank…

Shaking my head to disperse the thoughts, I turned my attention back to Marja, standing in front of my squad. She gazed at me knowingly, nodding once as we made eye contact. Everyone in the squad (apart from Storm Cloud) watched me with the intent of not coming along.

Should I feel crossed by that? An indignant part of me felt betrayed, though it seemed illogical. I chose not to linger on that thought for too long.

“It would be best for you to travel light. You will have to be nimble if you wish to escape them on the chance you are discovered.” Marja suggested, idly examining a Gas Mask on the table.

“And how likely is that?” I asked tersely. 

“A strong possibility, given that your coat color will stand out like an eye sore. Cling to the clouds as much as you can, and only move when you know it is safe.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered to myself.

Taking inventory of what I had, I emptied all pockets and pouches of anything I didn’t need or wanted to carry. My rifle and all of its ammo were discarded as I replaced it with a more compact SMG of a foreign design. It was basic enough with some of the others I have seen from back home; the curved magazine was fed into the side of the receiver and could be ejected with a click of the release handle, allowing a quicker reload time.

I slung the gun around my torso and fed the magazines into my pockets, an immense weight sagging me down. Not just from the equipment, mind you. There was a noticeable solemn mood across the room as everyone realized what was going to happen, and what would likely ensue after my departure: My demise.

It was a good time to not only take inventory of what tools and materials there were but also a good time for an absolute, personal moral inventory of one’s self as well. A time of contemplation. Among the items I had were the books I had taken with me, which earned some surprise from my squadmates and from the Olenians as well. Though none objected to the idea of me having them on me in the first place.

As I tried to shake the heavy thoughts from my mind and tally inventory, I noticed Syringe move in closer out of the corner of my eye with a worried expression.

“How is your leg feeling?”

... Oh, right. 

It had completely slipped my mind that I had been shot in the leg earlier until she pointed it out. Her anesthetic was good at its job.

“I don’t feel any pain right now if that’s what you’re asking,” I answered.

Syringe gazes at the bandages wrapped around me with a grimace. “It needs to be redressed before you head out.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” I absently replied, hoping for some distraction.

“Whatever you need to say or do before you head out, make it swift.” Marja reminds me. “We are on a tight itinerary.”

My throat tightened as I felt enslaved to fate. There was no point in delaying the inevitable I suppose.

“It’ll be quick. I assure you.” Syringe answered patiently.

“It better be. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.” Rain commented. “No offense intended.”

“Some taken…” Marja muttered to herself.

“This only has to be done by one pony?” I asked aloud again, for what felt like the umpteenth time to these deer. “I very much would rather not have to do this alone.” I anxiously protested, feeling my body shake slightly as Syringe examined my bandage and replaced it with haste.

“I wish I could, Ponit, I really do. But adding any more to your already conspicuous presence would make you likey to be spotted by the Changelings on the ground, and any who happen to be flying by.” Marja replied earnestly.

Great, so not only are the odds against me seemingly impossible, I was forced to do it alone because otherwise, death was a certainty. 

… How did I get myself into this mess?

“There are a lot of clouds in the sky. Hug them for cover as often as you can when you advance and reconnoiter the area around the Palace Grounds. You’ll know it when you see it, it’s the oldest group of buildings that were deliberately untargeted from bombardment.” Marja reminded me.

“And this camera,” I grabbed the aforementioned device with wingtip, “This thing is supposed to help capture the evidence that's on the ground?”

“Try to capture anything that looks important and deadly against us, so we can take a gander at what we’re dealing with.”

“Right… easy enough… I just have to not die.” I mumbled grimly.

“... I am sorry.” Marja somberly replies.

That actually got me to look her in the eye from my dejected state. She looked genuinely guilty, and concerned for my well-being. 

“If it were any other way, one of us would have gone in your stead. But the council has decided, and… we are to never go against its will when their decisions are set in stone.”

“I understand,” I lied, 

“I will do what I can.”

I was going to die.

“There has to be… something, right?” Syringe pipes up.

All of us collectively look at her simultaneously.

“I mean, we can’t just assume she’s going to succeed, given the risks right? Isn’t there something your deerfolk have that can help us?”

“Most of our scavenging efforts have resulted in bare necessities when it comes to what we’ve actually acquired and not scrapped. Most of their special equipment is safeguarded by Jaeger forces.”

… Scavenged. My eyes drift toward Rain Drop.

“Are you sure?” Brass asks off to the side. “There isn’t anything you can spare?”

“I know who can spare something,” I spoke aloud for all to hear.

A flash of remembrance glints in his eyes as he narrows them towards me.

“... What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know why.” I accused knowingly as I trotted up to him.

“I don’t know why-”

“Then you are a liar.” 

“What is she talking about?” Brass was the first to speak up.

“Rain Drop found a Chameleon Cloak from the Changelings, and he pockets it for himself. And I’m willing to bet that he is going to take that lie to the grave if it means keeping it for himself.” I growled the last word out through my gritted teeth.

Rain, however, seemed remarkably composed. He had no visible shift in his expression, which could only be described as “neutrally angry.” I chose to take that as a sign for me to keep going.

“... But no, I guess I must be wrong, huh?” I challenged, earning a hard blink from him. 

“Otherwise, Rain would just be like how everyone else he knew ever would be: Dead.”

The last word hung in the air as the silence became deafening. Rain’s frown burrowed into his face as he continued to stand his ground.

“I guess you’re smart enough to realize that you’re a coward.”

Thwack!

“FUCK YOU!”

He barely got the bellow out of his mouth as several deer tackled him to the ground to physically restrain him. All the while, he was cursing and thrashing about with fervorous resistance.

Syringe helped me up to my hooves as I wiped the copper-tasting blood from my face. He managed to cut my cheeks pretty well. The strike came at me so fast I barely saw Rain lunge at me from his position to deliver it.

One of the deer folk eventually had to physically bind Rain’s hooves together like he was cattle, and promptly disarmed him afterward. 

Marja was the one who personally took Rain’s gun from him. “... Well. That happened,” she remarked, almost comically.

As they began to search him for any more potential weapons, one of them pulls out the Shadow Black Cloak that was folded away in one of his vest pockets. Its exterior was a little wrinkled and worn, but it still shimmered with Changeling Magic.

The Olenian immediately tossed it away in disgust, hissing like a cat.

“I can feel its magic… It’s tainted,” she spoke in Ponish. “It’s not natural at all.”

“Yes…” Marja agreed, reaching down with a hoof to inspect its shimmering material. “That is definitely a Chameleon Cloak.”

“Where did he find it?” one of the other deer spoke up.

“He killed a jaeger for it, presumably.” Marja guessed. “Unless you would like to correct me, hm?” Marja asked Rain, leaning down into his face.

He spat in her face in response.

THWUMP!

The kick sent by Marja plunged Rain into an airless coughing fit for a few minutes. It took him quite a while for him to breathe again.

Marja looked at Brass questioningly, as if the former was awaiting permission from the latter. 

“... Apprehend him.” she hesitantly orders with a curt nod.

“Done,” Marja answers swiftly, nodding to two of the Deer surrounding him. As he was being dragged away by the arms, he gave up thrashing and decided to start screaming instead.

“Fine, that's it! Lock me up then, I guess you got your wish after all Brass! Just like how you killed Misty and Pebbles over at the Shire! Well, guess what? You win! You fucking win, you murderer!” He screams one last time as he is dragged from view into the direction of the infirmary.

As he disappeared further into the bastion to be housed off to… somewhere (I assumed a dungeon or jail cell) Marja let out an exhausted sigh. I turned to look at Brass, who stood stoically as she watched Rain being carted off with a grimace. The ostentatious display left everyone dazed and confused.

“... So.” Dominoes suddenly spoke up from within the crowd, examining the Chameleon Cloak in his hooves. “He went through all that trouble and fussed all that much… for some kind of coat?” he asked dumbfounded.

“Not just any coat,” Marja switched topics. “A Chameleon Cloak grants the user partial invisibility depending on where they are located, and what environment they are blending into. This allows the user to blend into bushes in forests, dunes in deserts, rubble in ruined city blocks, and probably much more.”

“... Neat,” Dominoes affirmed, gently setting it on the table, “I guess that will help Sunshine with her mission then, huh?”

“It certainly will,” Marja answered for me, “it will allow her to be able to blend into her surroundings seamlessly. This will help her get closer to her goal, and survive the trek back.”

“... Then it’s settled,” Brass announced. “We have a reason to do this and now we have the means to get it done.”

Brass’s eyes turn to me. In autopilot, my body stiffed and tensed up as it stood rigid in front of her.

“Sunshine, you are all we got on this. Can we trust you to do this?”

My intuitions told me to reply with a “Yes Ma’am” and be done with it. Yet my instincts are telling me that this is suicidal. And I was caught in between the two like a whiplash of indecision.

And, again, that immense pressure around my heart returned and threatened to suffocate me. All eyes were on me as they eagerly awaited my response.

Inexplicably, there was this imperceivable weight saturating the air I was breathing in as I contemplated what is most likely to be the most important moment of my life so far.

Dozens of questions flooded my head. 

Do I challenge fate? Should I charge to face this head-on? Do I submit to my cowardice? Do I even have a chance to succeed? To make it back alive? 

What would happen should I fail? Would I be punished? 

... Something. 

Something pressed me onward. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. But it was as if the very air around me turned static. As if the world itself had stopped moving at that moment in time.

As if my survival became the Arbiter of Destiny, beckoning me forward to at least try to obtain this slim, but attainable possibility. Barring that thought, I had no other choice. It was either I succeed, or I die.

So I chose to try. To try to live.

“I will do what I can.” I nodded firmly.





Unsealing the sewer grate above my head, I took a moment to listen intently for any intruders.

Peeking over and assuring myself the coast was clear, I gingerly climbed out of the hole and emerged on the war-torn streets of Hjortland once more. Being away from the sun for a while caused me to go a little blind in the eyes from the brightness. Once my eyes readjusted, I found myself in the middle of an alleyway pinched between two brick walls from buildings in a dead end. Flying upward to a nearby roof still intact, I had a good view of the cityscape around me.

The distant din of dogged resistance was heard across the city as the battle continued. Columns of smoke billowed past several indiscernible shapes of cumulous that hid the sun. Beyond that and the dilapidated rooftops, there wasn’t much to look at.

Scanning the horizon around me, I eventually found a structure in the distance that stood out among the rest. It was Opulent and Sumptuous, with the right amount of Audacity to it as the Brass domes of the Palace Towers could be still seen glistening from where I stood.

My target was about a kilometer or so away. And from what I can hear within the sounds of combat, it sounds like the battle was still a long way away from the Palace Grounds. Whatever the Changelings have inside, they definitely don’t want anyone else getting even close to it.

And I was about to charge head first into the wolf’s den by my lonesome.

Slinging my saddlebags off, I unfolded the Chameleon Cloak that was tucked away and snapped the button around my barrel. I can feel the very air around me turn somewhat static, making the hairs on my coat stand on end as goosebumps plagued my limbs. 

Snapping it in place and pulling the hood over my head, I can see the Changeling Magic hermetically sealed within the fabric began to shift the color spectrum. It morphed from a Shadowy Black to a Brickish Brown to blend in with the roof I was standing atop of.

I let out a whistle. From a distance, as long as I huddled myself within the cloak and stayed still, it was imperceivable to the naked eye that there was somepony here. As long as I was motionless and in the right environment, I was practically invisible.

I suddenly started to fancy my chances a little more. Which was definitely a boon because I need all the confidence I can get to charge head-first into the heart of the Garrison. Eyeing a particularly large cloud drifting Northbound, I quickly took off in a steep ascension. Bursting through the other side and sealing up the hole took about 10 seconds, and I was soon laying atop a cloud as still as I can be. 

Thankfully, the Cloak itself seems to consciously understand that it was trying to blend into clouds, and thus its color spectrum shifts to a Titanium White soon after. Peering over the edge, I can see Hjortland beneath me in its dilapidated and derelict state. Not many Changelings were moving about from the ground, but I can see some squads flying towards the battle in the distance. I decided to keep my head down until I was close to my destination.

“Okay Changeling Magic, don’t fail me now.”





Hjortland Palace was a castle transformed into a fortress. 

The cloud I had initially landed on had drifted Northbound close enough for me to find a Stratocumulus patch to hide in. All the clouds were drifting Northbound, which was a boon for me. For the majority of the time, I only dared to move when I was absolutely sure I wouldn’t be spotted (Which I could never truly be fully certain of) and only when the two clouds I was jumping from and towards were no farther than about ten paces away. 

At the most, it took about 15 minutes for me to reach the airspace above the palace grounds. Burrowing a hole in the cloud patch using my innate Pegasi Magic, I felt my eyes gradually begin to widen as I took in the scene before me.

The Castle itself was not built initially to withstand an assault, from what the Olenians referenced. It was designed to be as opulent and grandiose as possible, but not to withstand siege or an attack. It was in no small part that the Olenians factored this one, critical fact into their reasoning for their surrender when they faced and lost to the Changelings years ago.

It was also what the Olenians were placing their bets on for their gambit to take back the Palace, and thus liberate the heart of the city. An ambitious, if not audacious goal to accomplish.

But the Bugs certainly did a good job of fortifying everything that could be fortified. There was a large patch of grass-covered dirt from a garden that had since then been ruptured by the shovels from Changeling Sappers. Machine Gun Bunkers, Mortar Emplacements, and Concrete Pillboxes to face the various streets and intersections now stand in what used to be a sanctuary of flora and fauna. Not to mention the rows of trenches, sandbags, razor wire, and minefields to navigate on the ground.

There was another longer, more narrow-looking patch of grass stretching in front of the luxurious-looking Palace as well, sandwiched in between two narrow streets. These two roads lead to the palace grounds northbound and towards two T-Intersections to the south, the latter of which divert East and West behind several blocks of buildings that were spared from destruction.

This narrow patch of grass was fortified with sandbags and razor wire, but there were also craters in the streets that looked like they were there for years. Some loose stones fill the bottom of these craters, and they were caked in dust. The number of both Changelings and Changeling fortifications was low on the southern side. A number that would surely increase as they got closer to the Castle. And as for the Castle itself, it too was fortified to the best of their abilities. Sandbags stack against the windows leaving only a small slit at the top for defenders to shoot through. Razor wire surrounded the immediate perimeter which was also covered in grassy dirt, save for the pavement that led to the front doors. The latter of which was also likely to be fortified. The rooftops had sandbags stacked around the edges to support AA emplacements on the roof for potential threats in the air.

And that wasn’t counting on what was inside.

It was an immense stronghold that seemed insurmountable. I felt a queasy sensation in my stomach after assessing the Oleninan's odds of success. It would be a slaughter for both sides.

But it wasn’t my job to judge the odds of the battle. My job was reconnaissance. 

So I started to take Pictures. The Polaroid that I was given was not of the highest quality, but it would have to do. Three were taken upon the front entrance of the Palace and its perimeter, two more on the roof, and five more were taken on the Garden Grounds.

I carefully stowed each printed photo into my vest pockets. Feeling my mission was complete, I decided now was the best time to vacate the airspace. Hopping from cloud to cloud, I continued my way southbound. The problem was; while the clouds drifting Northbound was a boon for me to get to the Palace, it was a bit of a problematic nuisance for me when I was trying to leave.

I had made about six jumps across the narrow garden in front of the entrance when I heard frantic shouting below me that seized my muscles and forced them to stop. Feeling my heart race, I carefully peeked through another hole burrowed in the cloud to the ground below. I saw several Changelings on the ground milling about.

One of them was looking directly at me.

I quickly closed the hole of the cloud and sat still, debating my options, and contemplated if they had spotted me.

SNAP!

The bullet whizzing past my head answered that question for me as I jolted backward. This was followed by more shouting down below as I began to frantically stand up and unfurl my wings. Another bullet snaps by, and my fight-or-flight instincts kick in.

There was no time to put on the Chameleon cloak to hide, so in this case, it was flight.

I took off with as much speed as I could physically muster, flapping my wings as fast as I could while I dove around several clouds toward the ground at a slight decline. This time the bullets were whizzing by much more frequently as more and more guns were firing at me. Diving down between and around several clouds, I saw the skyline of an apartment block approaching closer and closer.

Thwack!

The force of a bullet striking my abdomen knocked all the air out of me, and I spun wildly out of control as the ground descends closer to me dangerously. I desperately attempt to realign myself at the last second, gliding my wings and trying to land. The pain of the bullet was almost impossible to ignore as I saw the street perpendicular to me getting closer and closer.

Stretching my hooves towards the ground, they slid along the asphalt painfully for about a half second or so before I lost friction and began to tumble and roll painfully along the pavement. 

I came to a full stop after flipping over the ground about four times.

Groaning, wheezing, desperately trying to inhale oxygen, it took me what felt like ages to get back on my hooves. All the while my survival instincts were telling me to run. Painfully so, I stood up back on my feet and began to gallop away from the Palace and inside a building next to me.

Laying low, and listening for the sounds of Changeling voices that never came to find me, I took a moment to open my uniform and examine my injury.

To my astonishment, the bullet was still there.

Attached to my supple coat, and yet, it didn’t penetrate the skin.

Pulling it off of me, I winced in pain as a large, purple welt of a bruise took its place. Definitely will be feeling that for a few days.

But… How was I alive? I should be dead. That bullet should’ve went inside deeper, shouldn’t it? Was it faulty ammunition?

Patting myself for anything that was damaged, I felt something hard, and stiff inside my vest pocket. Something I had completely forgotten was there until I had pulled it out for me to see.

My book. And planted squarely in the center was a singular bullet hold, burrowing deeper into the pages and all the way out through the other side of the hardcover. 

When did… How did I forget to leave this behind?

It dawned on me like a freight train slamming into me that my life was spared because four inches of paper and leather were all that separated me from that bullet and certain death.

It was… too much. Everything about today just caught up to me at that moment. Between the absurdity of why I was here, the circumstances I found myself in with this awful city, the number of close calls; the amount of time I had spent here seemed eternal.

And yet, I had been here for only a few hours.

I chortled. Then it turned into a chuckle. Then a belly laugh.

My life was saved because of a Book.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the insanity of it all. It was just too surreal. By all accounts, this shouldn’t be real.

… And yet, here I sit.

Here I remain. And I am living proof that it is all real.

My laughter seized up instantly upon making this realization. A suffocating sadness soon took its place.

I looked around at where I was at.

… Some kind of a shop. A bakery it looks like. The glass counters that contained pastries and other bake delicacies were all vacant of their prized possessions.

And I was sitting alone in it. In a place that used to host mirth and satiation. In a place that used to spark joy.

Now it’s just a war-torn ruin.

Feeling tears well up in my eyes eventually snapped me out of my stupor, as I realized now was not the time to get emotional. The wolves were hunting me, and I am not out of the woods yet so to speak.

Peeking out to make sure it was clear, I found myself still alone. Leaving the book behind and taking off further south, I found the same four-way intersection that Brass and the others were standing on when we first reunited. The sewer grate that we had fled to was still there, all sealed up.

I could have taken any sewer grate, for granted, but this one was the closest to the Bastion. And I at least remembered the directions of where to go from there.

Turning my torch on that was attached to my chest, I then sealed the grate over my head and descended into the sewers once more.





Navigating the labyrinthian canals of the underground sewer system was actually harder than I gave it credit for. But eventually, I found the doors leading to the Bastion.

Three knocks, a pause, two knocks, another pause, and one knock later, and the door finally opened, revealing a gruff-looking deer.

I stood in place as he waved the same crystal staff over my head and waited for it to chime green. When it did, he visibly relaxed.

“Were you followed?” He asked in rough-sounding Ponish.

“If I was, don’t you think you would be dead by now?”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“Sigh… No, I wasn’t followed. I staked out before rendezvousing here.”

He took a second to stare me squarely in the eyes before nodding once and stepping aside. Trotting through the door and hearing it close behind me, I saw all eyes staring at me.

Everyone stopped talking almost instantly as they heard the door close and saw me standing by my lonesome. I saw Marja standing amongst the crowd, looking stunned that I survived seemingly unscathed.

“I lived,” I announced atonally, loud enough for all to hear. “And I got what you are looking for.” I locked eyes with Marja.

Her lips creased into a shocked, but genuine smile.

“Sunshine?” A voice called out as I saw a Grey Pegasus scoot through the crowd. Eventually she stopped cold as she locked eyes with me. “Sweet Celestia’s flaming ovaries, you actually made it!” She guffaws in astonishment.

I couldn’t help but smile back as I pulled out the Chameleon Cloak. “I wouldn’t be without this thing.” 

The rest of my squad; Brass, Dominoes, Morning Dew, and Pumpkin Patch, eventually shuffled through the crowd towards me. All of them were smiling and laughing, with a few Olenians even joining in as well. All of them congratulated me, patting me on the whither for a job well done.

“I’ll be damned, I didn’t think you were gonna make it back to be completely honest.”

“Nor did I for a minute there,” I replied honestly. “I hope nothing bad happened while I was out?”

“Other than Rain’s incessant yelling, no. All has been quiet.” Syringe answered for me.

“Still unsure how to deal with that dilemma…” Brass muttered aloud.

“All in good time,” Marja interjected, walking towards me. “But first; the Photographs please.” she requests, looking down upon me expectantly.

Fishing them out from my vest, I gave Marja what I nearly lost my life for and waited with baited breath as she began to inspect each of them. As she continued to shuffle through them, other Olenians gathered around to see.

“Hm…” She hummed, bemused. “This is… troubling.” 

I chose not to pry and instead waited. When Marja was finished with the photos, she dispersed them along a table for all to see. Immediately the reactions were heard as almost all of them were conversing to one another in Olenian. And they didn’t sound optimistic.

“What exactly did you see over there?” Marja asked the Million-Bit Question.

“I saw one of the toughest nuts that we are attempting to crack…”





After giving my testimony of what happened, and what I saw in terms of defenses, Marja’s expressions turned more and more sour. So did my squadmates, when they heard of what they were going to deal with. When I told them about the Concrete Pillboxes, I could hear Marja wince.

“... Thankfully for us, the only saving grace we have is that all of the armored vehicles seem to be pulling south to where the fighting is the thickest, which only leaves the soldiery to guard the Palace.”

“Well-armed, and well-trained soldiers.” Marja corrects me.

“... I’m counting your blessings here.” I deadpanned. “Other than that small tidbit, there’s not much else that could be of use to us. I still have no idea what awaits us inside.”

Marja studies each photograph intensely as if she was a detective cracking a case. She scans one, the next, and the next in a rapid fashion, searching for any kind of hole in the armor to probe.

If her frustrated groans were anything to go by, she has had no such luck.

“Damn these bugs! They have nearly every nook and cranny reinforced with something to deter any kind of attack. They got it locked down tighter than a banker’s vault.”

I eyed Brass Screws from my peripherals, who was frowning at Marja’s words.

“Does this mean that an assault is impossible?”

Marja didn’t answer right away. 

“Even if we were successful, the loss of life would be destructive.” Syringe assessed from the other side of the table. “Nothing would change that unless we destroy the entire building.”

“We are not doing that. Even if we have the material and the firepower to accomplish this - which we do not - we do not want to destroy our seat of government if we can help it.” Marja retorted.

“But what other option do we have?” Brass asked aloud.

Again, the room goes silent on that.

“... If I may,” Dominoes spoke up from the back of the platform, “If the Changelings have what we are looking for, and if I were a betting pony - and I am, it is a serious problem - I’d say that the Palace will also have an ammunition depot for the garrison as well, correct?”

Marja once again carefully peered at each photograph.

“... Maybe so,” she starts, holding aloft one specific picture in her hoof. “This one has a tent with some spare shells lying about for heavy guns. They look like 120 Mils’ and heavier. And there are several of these tents just like them all across the Garden Square.”

“Then why not just blow them up?”

An awkward silence hangs in the air like a bad smell.

“... Did you not hear the part where Marja said she doesn’t want to blow up the Palace?” Syringe wryly quipped.

“No no, hear me out,” Dominoes began, “They are far away enough from the Palace to not completely destroy the building, only just the immediate surrounding area. It would leave a crater where the tent used to be, but that's about it.”

“I am not liking where you are taking this.” Marja reluctantly retorts.

“Lemme ask you this: Are you willing to repair some damages if it means you will capture the place intact?”

Marja’s lips creased in an enigmatic frown but otherwise nodded to his question.

“Are you willing to do whatever it takes to capture the Palace if it means you don’t lose your entire Battalion because of it?”

Another nod.

“Do you have heavy weaponry to detonate the stockpile with?”

Nod.

“Do you have the Deer-power to pull off the assault?”

Nod.

“Do you have the morale, the will, and the supplies, to accomplish such a task?”

Nod.

“... Then the only thing I have left to ask is: What better time than to do it in the present moment?”

Marja stared hard into Dominoes’ eyes, searching for any sign of dishonesty and insincerity. This was the most I had heard Dominoes’ speak in tangent since I had first met him in Vanhoover.

She turned to the photos, then did a double-take back to Dominoes.

“... That… just might work.” Marja quietly accepts.

“I know you have to go through with your Council… thing to get it proposed and accepted, but it is a good plan, isn’t it?”

“... It’s one of the better ones I’ve heard in a long while.”

“So we strike their ammunition tents, sow chaos and confusion, and attack during the pandemonium?” Brass asked Dominoes.

“Essentially, yes.”

“... I like the way you think.” Brass responds with a smile.

“I like the way I think too.” Dominoes smiles back.

“Right then, I shall get this proposed to the Council immediately and see if I can prepare for the witching hour. We only have a few hours of daylight left, so I will try my best to hurry along.” She paused. “Understand, Ponit, that if I do not make them come to an agreement before nightfall, you will be stuck here for the night.”

“We were fully prepared to give our lives for today, or to fight for however many days it takes to get to our goal. A night in the sewers isn’t the end of the world for us.” Brass spoke for us.

Marja’s smile widened. “... I’m glad to have met you all. You are all formidable fighters in your own right. In the meantime, feel free to lounge around. I will let the others know you are welcome here.” She compliments, before disappearing through the doorway leading to the inner cistern.

With that, she leaves us to our own devices as most of the Olenians have shuffled off to minding their own business.

I felt a rough pat on my back from behind as I turned to see Brass Screws standing over me.

“You did well today, Sunshine. Fine job making it back in one piece.”

 I nodded tersely, and wordlessly, as my mind wondered off to Rain Drop locked away in his cell.

“... Brass?”

“Hm?”

“Permission to speak freely?”

She paused for a tense moment, before nodding. I took a moment to contemplate how to ask this.

“... About Rain Drop, um… Who were Misty and Pebbles? And why were they important to Rain?”

If Brass Screws was in any way shocked or stunned by my question, she made a very good effort of hiding her reactions. Her features were that of a blank, but stern wall.

“... Former friends of his. They were killed in action quite a while ago when they were under my command… He blames me for their deaths.”

Her blunt honesty was not what I was expecting out of her; lies? Maybe not necessarily, but I did expect her to honey her words in some kind of way.

There was no sugarcoating it with her though. She is supposedly responsible for Rain’s friends.

“... What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” I sat down, tempting her to do the same in front of me. She reciprocates my actions and plants her haunches on the plywood floor.

“It was around the time when the Shire Offensive happened. That was around… the year 1012, I want to say - somewhere in the winter between 1012 and 1013 if my memory is right.”

I nodded along, noticing my squadmates dispersing and idling in their own manner.

“The Changelings had been stalled just short of the fallback line for about 9 months prior to this and we knew an attack was coming. We just didn’t expect them to hit us as hard as they did when that time finally came. They were trying to go for the killing blow on us and march towards Canterlot, and I was assigned to one of the Divisions trying to stop them at the time.

“Rain was with me in No-Creature’s Land in the town of Shire itself when they came from all sides. Misty, Pebbles, and a few others with us at the time, were left behind in our foxholes when the Panzers started trembling the earth. Most of the Company I was in started to flee East since that was the only direction the bugs weren’t shooting from. By that time, Rain, Misty, Pebbles, and I were in separate foxholes when I gave the order to retreat.

Brass paused, her posture shifting a little as she scooted her hooves closer to her abdomen.

“... I’m still not sure what happened there. I yelled to fall back, and I heard them yell something back at me, but I couldn’t hear over the cacophony of gunfire deafening me. I knew that the Panzers were getting closer, and that Rain was right next to me at the time, so I grabbed him and told him as his CO that we were leaving. I looked back at Misty and Pebbles one last time and yelled the same thing towards them, and heard more incoherent screams coming from them in response.

“I didn’t wait for them, and I dragged Rain out of the Foxhole as we both hauled ass away from where we were. I looked one more time and saw them both still sitting in their holes, firing away at anything they could see… that was the last time I saw them.”

Brass took a moment of silence as her eyes drifted away from me and towards… something. Looking at where she was looking at, it was hard to tell what she focused on… or perhaps she was just staring into space.

“Rain never questioned me in that moment until after we made it across the river east of Shire. He started asking around for their names, then started to ask me. That was when I told him we left them behind.”

She stops for another to exhale a deep sigh.

“... I know why he is mad at me. And not just for the obvious reason that I left his friends to die. But because it was my sole responsibility as a leader to try and have all of my Ponies make it out alive. And I failed my job as a leader in that regard. In his eyes, and in mine. I blame myself for what happened.”

Her ears wilted, but her eyes hardened.

“But not the government, apparently. They saw my actions as Heroic.” She bitterly remembers as her hoof reaches into one of her vest pockets and pulls out a scrap of ribbon with some copper-looking metal at the end. A medal, and a rather prestigous looking one too.

“The Bronze Star of Valiant Action. Apparently, I helped save more lives that day due to me ordering them to abandon their foxholes instead of dying for Celestia.”

She lets the last phrase hang in the air for a tense minute or so as I inspect the medallion. It was indeed of a Bronze hue, shaped into a six-pronged star with the Insripted Acronym of BSVA printed in the middle. It wasn’t overly glamorous, but it did carry an air of distinguishment to it.

“How come you don’t wear this?”

Her face scrunches up as if I had offended her with that question. “Because I don’t deserve this medal,” Brass answers as she stows it in her pocket, “at least not yet. When I think about wearing it, my mind drifts to Pebbles and Misty again. And… I feel too guilty to go through with putting it on me. I’m sure you can understand.”

“I can,” I answered honestly. “You don’t view yourself as a hero, like how others do.”

“More importantly,” Brass continues, “I also failed as a leader.”

“No,” I responded quickly, standing up over Brass, “no you did not. You were given an impossible situation that hardly anypony - not Princess Celestia, not even Princess Twilight - could make right. You did what you thought was best based on what you have extrapolated. And if you saved lives that day, then you shouldn’t hold yourself accountable for the ones that had been lost, the ones you could have saved. It will only drive you mad.”

My words didn’t seem to pierce through to Brass, her features carrying a weight of exhausted sorrow. “It’s kind of you to say that, but that is not the way I see it. And I’m afraid nothing will make it right.” She paused. “... In a way, I’m kind of glad I was hoof-picked for this suicide mission.”

“... Glad?” I asked as Brass stood up.

“It makes me feel vindicated. Like I am on the path to redemption. Or, if nothing else, I will die and stop feeling anything. That works too. Whichever comes first.” she remarks before walking away.

As Brass walks off to an isolated corner by her lonesome, her words repeat in my mind over and over. 

‘I failed as a leader.’

Rain’s grudge on Brass was more than that; it was a harbored resentment that had been festering for years, over something that was seemingly out of Brass’s control. And even after the fact, Brass carries the weight of her guilt willingly as if it was some self-arbitrated punishment for her transgressions in the past.

Pieces to the puzzle had fallen into place, but I was still left with more questions than answers.





About an hour had passed when Marja returned from the Cistern, a small smirk fixed on her features.

“Ponit, I have more news!” Marja announces in Ponish for us to hear. Presently, all of the Squad (save for Storm Cloud and Rain Drop) gathered around the table where Marja had inspected the photographs from earlier. 

“The Council has decided your idea of creating chaos and confusion in the upcoming assault has brought merit into the minds of the Council, and they have agreed to carefully consider this stratagem in our plan of action.”

“So, are they discussing whether or not it’s a good idea?” I asked aloud for all of us.

“In a sense, yes. They are to come to a vote when they think they are ready to make a decision, and if the vote fails, then they debate further until a resolution is passed. This usually takes a few hours.”

“We don’t have a lot of daylight left. If you want to attack the Palace today, it will have to be before dusk or we risk losing our window of opportunity. Who knows if the Changelings have requested reinforcements or not? And who knows if or when they may arrive? It could be tomorrow, it could be today; we can’t risk hesitating on our part.” Brass plots aloud, with Marja nodding along intently.

“You are correct. Time has always been our enemy, but today it is our nemesis. I only hope they do not take too long in their debates.” Marja’s gaze drifts towards the door leading inward to the Cistern. “Only time will tell.”

More waiting. Well, at least I was used to it by now.

“Whatever happened to the Chameleon Cloak anyway?” Marja asked.

“I still have it. Why?”

“Keep it.” Marja answers with a swift nod. “Think of it as a reward for you helping us personally.”

“Uh… thanks?” I awkwardly replied, noticing the wanton gazes of my other squadmates. They too were envious of it, and I couldn’t blame them. To have one for yourself would surely be a boon for all soldiers. And here I was hoarding the only one for the Squad. An amalgamation of guilt and paranoia seized me.

“So what then? Are we to wait until they come to a decision? Like last time?” Syringe asked aloud in a tone of annoyance, swiftly changing the subject.

“I know it is frustrating and maddening - believe me, I know - But it is for the best this way, lest we make a rash decision.”

“Speaking of rash decisions,” I interjected, all eyes turning to me, “How is Rain Drop faring?”

Brass’s brows furrowed ever so slightly at my question. Marja’s did too, but more so out of confusion.

“He hasn’t spoken since the outburst, and he is refusing to cooperate, so I would say we are off to a rocky start as far as international relations go.” she jests lightheartedly, but there was also a tone of indignance.

“I wish to speak to him. Alone.”

Everyone’s eyes blinked hard as their brains wrapped around the question I had uttered. Brass especially looked surprised.

“Eh… I do not think that is a good idea. He is not cooperative, and it will only be a waste of time.” Marja answered.

“I would like to be the judge of that. I just want no more than 10 minutes or so.”

“Sunshine…” Brass didn’t say any more; she didn’t need to. The look in her eyes was more than enough for her to say her piece. She too was doubtful this would work.

“I’m not sure what you would want to say to him,” Pumpkin Patch’s atonal voice spoke up for the first time since we got here. “He is a liability.”

“And he’s an asshole.” Dominoes said the obvious part aloud.

“Why do you want to talk to him?” Syringe asked me, her frowning eyes burrowing into my skull with her acrid stare. “He’s a piece of work, and he clearly is not in the right mind.”

“I just want to talk. I want to see if I can get him to work with us. I want to try, at least, will you let me have that?” I switched my attention towards Marja, who stood rigid as she contemplated her answer. Nopony else dared to speak in my stead and waited for Marja’s response in the meantime. The latter of which sighed and sagged her head down.

“Ten minutes. You will have ten minutes, and no more. If he can’t work with us, he stays in confinement. Understand?” Marja acquiesced.

“Yes ma’am.” I instinctually replied.





The confinement cells were cold, dark, and damp for malcontents and dissenters alike. While this room wasn’t intentionally designed to be a dungeon - the iron bars that held the locked door in place were artificially constructed there after the Bastion was founded from what I heard - it still served its purpose. Isolated in the farthest corners of the rear Cistern where the Council resided, only one occupant was actually using these cells for their intended use. That occupant was Rain Drop.

Marja personally escorted me to the cells before leaving me by my lonesome. Rain Drop was sitting in a corner, facing towards the cell doors as his eyes were fixed downward onto the cobblestone floor. He didn’t bother to look up as his ears flicked to the sounds of hoofsteps. He didn’t acknowledge my presence, let alone speak. 

A heavy silence drags on between us. I stood outside of the bars of his cell, looking down upon him as continued to stay still. His brows were fixed in a permafrown, his forehooves chained together in hoof cuffs. The sounds of heavy chains scraping the floor occasionally broke the silence between us. 

I sat down in front of his cell on my haunches gently, his gaze still locked onto the floor.

“What do you want?” He mumbles atonally, his eyes never leaving the ground. 

I didn’t reply. Instead, I reached into one particularly bulky vest pocket and fished out what was stowed inside. Unfolding the contents, I dropped the Chameleon Cloak in front of Rain’s cell in a crumpled pile. Rain’s eyes drifted towards the object in question, then to me. 

“Your cloak has helped me accomplish my task,” I stated matter-of-factly, “And I am willing to give it back to you if you are willing to come with us again.”

A scoff, followed by a chortle. “Get lost.” he turns his back towards me.

“No,” I replied blankly, staring him down.

More silence. The air is thick with tension.

“Why are you here?” Rain asked candidly, his back still facing me.

“Because I am trying to help you.”

“Help me with what?” His venomous voice drops down an octave with that question. “You think you can help me?” he scoffs again. “You are more naive than I gave you credit for.”

“I can understand how you feel-”

“No you can’t-”

“And I know you don’t want to stay here-”

“Obviously not-”

“But if you can’t cooperate, you will be forced to stay here. And I don’t want that to happen to you.” I insisted.

“Worst-case scenario?”

I paused. “Uh… what?”

“What’s the worst-case scenario for me? If I stay here?”

I stuttered and fumbled my words into incoherent sounds as I tried to formulate a response. Rain beat me to the punch.

“I’ll tell you; I get fed here, and I sleep here. And I probably will die here when the Changelings come knocking at the door. That’s it. Sounds exactly the same compared to living outside as is. Except this time, I get to do nothing and watch as the world kills itself. Sounds like a good show to me.” He scoots away from me. “Leave me alone.”

My ears wilt as I felt my heart begin to beat a little faster. A little fiery tendril of rage pierced my psyche, but I kept my cool as I spoke out again. “So… you are just giving up?” 

“Call it whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”

“Fine then,” I stood up, preparing to leave. “I hope Misty and Pebbles are proud of your cowardice.” I aggressively quipped as I turned towards the door to leave.

“... What?” I heard Rain ask from behind, his tone bordering rage.

Got him.

“You heard me, Coward.” I turned to face him. And for the first time, Rain Drop looks me in the eyes with a look of wrath.

“... You take that back. Now.”

“No.”

BANG!

A hoof violently slams against the bars of his confinement as Rain Drop stands up on two hooves and grabs the bars with force.

“How fucking dare you?! Who gave you the right?!”

“Who gave you the right to project your suffering out on everypony else?!” I yelled back at him. “‘Oh, woe is me, my friends are all dead, lemme just be an asshole to every single living pony I meet because I can’t seem to get my shit together when it comes to handling Grief!’ That’s you! That’s what you sound like!” I imitated in a gruff voice.

“Oh go FUCK yourself, Sunshine! Do you think I want to do this?! Do you think I get pleasure in doing this?!”

“You haven’t said so otherwise.”

“I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS! I never asked to be selected on a suicide mission!”

That’s the second time somepony had referred to this as a suicide mission today.

“Is that what you think we are doing? Suicide?” I asked honestly.

“Oh stop lying to yourself! What the fuck else are we doing?!”

“Trying to save Equestria from mass destruction! What-”

Interrupted by the sound of hoarse laughing, Rain begins to cackle incessantly for a long while until he stops for a breath.

“‘Save Equestria?’ Do you think yourself some kind of hero, Sunshine? Is that what this is? Are you trying to prove to me you’re brave by telling me to my face that you don’t care about my dead friends? By trying to convince yourself that you are helping me with this?”

“No, I just-”

“I don’t care, Sunshine. I just don’t care about all of this anymore-”

“YES, YOU FUCKING DO!” I screamed at him, prompting him to look up into my eyes with a raised brow. 

“You talk about how you don’t care, and how you don’t want to be close to anyone! If you say you don’t care, then why are you harboring this guilt? You act like you are the only one suffering!”

My words echoed off the tight, damp walls of his cell, no doubt reverberating in his mind as well. His expression says it all: He was expecting resistance, but not at this magnitude. 

“Putting aside the obvious suicide mission we are on; whatever it is that happened between you and Brass needs to be put in the past! Too much is at stake here for you to otherwise harbor a fucking grudge!

“And before you project your grief about your dead friends onto me - and again, I understand how you feel - Take a moment to consider that we are currently resting in a place that could only be called the Last Stand for the Olenians as their real home is being torn apart above us as we speak! And how all of us are living without some friend or loved one here. All of us here have lost someone Rain! Grow. The fuck. Up.

“And while all of the Changelings are gearing up to destroy our comrades fighting for their lives, and while the Olenians are gearing up to charge into the breach once more to take what is theirs, and as all of these fucking bugs with their evil queen continue to triumph and crumple what we know and love into dust, here you stand! Doing nothing!

“So for the sake of everyone here - Pony and Deer alike - You either move on or get left behind!”

The entirety of my rant steadily withered Rain’s resolve for a rebuttal as his gaze slowly sags to the cobblestone floor. At first, he stared intensely and incredulously, then ashamed and apprehensive, then reserved and resentful, all in a manner of minutes. The emotional whiplash left him unable to speak, and it left me too drained to continue. I sat hard on my haunches, and for a moment we were content to sit in silence. 

I gazed at Rain, and he continued to stare hard at the floor. “... And I don’t want you to be left behind.” I sighed, noticing his eyes gaze up at me through his furrowed brow. “Believe it or not, I don’t hold any resentment over you. We all need you. And you need us too. So for the sake of our continued survival if nothing else, put it to rest along with your companions. Please.”

No more words were spoken between us for a solid minute or so. I had taken it as a sign that I had failed in persuading him, and was about to stand up to trot out with the cloak.

That was, until I heard him clear his throat from behind, and I turned to see Rain Drop staring at me with tired eyes.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

… Sorry?

That caught me off guard, admittedly. Of all the things he said, I was not expecting him to apologize. 

“But I can’t put it to rest.” He finishes. “At the same time though, you are right. I can’t do much here.” I inspect his chained hooves with a hard grimace. “Especially like this.”

I turned fully towards him and sat down, waiting for him to elaborate further. A heavy sigh coursed his throat. 

“Ok… Let’s say I… I agree to be cooperative. What then?”

A shadow of a smile creases my lips as I slide the cloak under the cell doors towards him.

“First; you get to keep this,” I offered to him as he gingerly accepts, “Second; You don’t start any trouble, and there won’t be any trouble between anyone. If that’s fine with you, they can let you go. I will make sure of it. I promise.”

“... Pinkie Promise?” he quietly responds, almost in a whisper.

“... What?” I asked dumbfounded.

“Nothing, just… an old hometown anecdote.” he dismisses with a sad smile and a shake of his head. “But… yeah. I can do that. Those terms are fine with me.”

Another smile found itself on my face, more genuine than the last one.

“Don’t think that because of this we are friends, though,” He quickly adds, “you are still an annoying kiss-ass.”

“And you are a stubborn hard-ass.” 

That got a single chuckle out of him. “Not stubborn, just stupid,” he replies standing up. “Tell them I… I can cooperate.“ He quietly submits. I gave him a terse nod as I opened the door to leave. “And Sunshine?”

I turn back to see him standing up again on all fours, standing with some level of dignity still attached. “Thank you. I… I don’t think I-”

“It’s okay,” I interjected, “No need to apologize. Just… get your head in the right place when it matters the most, alright?”

“Yeah… I can do that.”





“Wait, really?”

Brass’s shocked words echoed off the more spacious atrium of the Bastion as the whole squad (except for Storm Cloud) gathered around a table to discuss how my talk with Rain went. The rest shared her confusion. Even Marja was there, and she too shared the rest of their awe.

“How did you manage to convince him?” Syringe asked the only question that mattered out of all the other incessant ones they’d been asking. 

“I told him what really mattered, and that he needed to get his head in the right place. Took a little more effort than I thought, but he agreed to come clean so to speak.”

Marja shook her head with an amused smile. “You keep finding more and more ways to surprise me, Ponit.” She chuckles to herself, “But I suppose this is for the best. We will need all the hooves we can muster for what is to come.”

“Yeah, how did the Council fare while Sunshine was away?” Brass asked for us all.

“It was an arduous argument from all sides, but they came to a 7:3 agreement that the attack must be commenced.”

She spoke it so casually as if it was a date or a luncheon at the weekend. But the gravity of her words was still apparent to us; The Olenians would attack and take back their Palace, or die trying.

“When?” I asked before anypony else.

“Today.”

“What?!” All of us collectively spoke simultaneously. 

“But I-I thought, I thought you would wait at least a day before we would assault the-”

“If we wait, we lose our chance forever,” Marja interjected with a stern tone, “The Changeling Garrison is spread thin across the city and they are calling in neighboring divisions to fill the gaps. They will be here by morning. And if they are there, they would be too numerous and too entrenched for us to succeed.

“If we wish to win, it must be done now or never.”

Nopony dared to speak or protest at those words. She said them with finality; a tone of diligence and discipline that could only be obtained through years of struggle.

“I haven’t told the others yet. You are the first ones to hear of this.”

“... How long?” Brass asked, her tone also hardened with experience. “How long do we have to prepare?”

“An hour. We attack all the way until Nightfall. If we succeed, we will broadcast our message to all of Olenia to begin our uprising. If we fail… We fail. Simple as that.”

My heart began to thunder in my chest. Everypony carried a look of anticipation. They knew it as well as I did.

Some of us will not survive today.

“What about Storm Cloud?” Syringe asked from the back. “Will he be left here during the attack?”

“Unless he can somehow miraculously recover three months' worth of trauma in a manner of hours, yes. He is a liability as of now.” She frowns. “It’s unfortunate none of you are unicorns. Especially you, medic.” She looks as Syringe.

“Believe me, I hate it too…” she mutters to herself.

“So thats it then?” Dominoes asked. “How do we do this? What’s our plan of action?”

“I will brief Brass on the battle plan. Our planners are already formulating an attack as we speak. I am sure she will explain it to you when it is time to commence. Until then, however - Brass?” she asks her name, the latter of which responds with a nod. 

“Show me.” she immediately understands.

“Right then. Until then, Ponit, I will also work on Rain’s release before then. Prepare yourselves accordingly.” She concludes as both she and Brass walk off to the Cistern.

When we were left alone, we all collectively had the same idea to gaze at one another for confidence. All of us carried the same expression: Apprehension

“So… this is it, then?” Syringe asks aloud, looking around for potential eavesdroppers before lowering her voice. “If we find what we are looking for, then we know we are on the right path.”

“Well, let’s not count our eggs before they hatch,” Morning Dew politely interjects. “We have no idea what's inside. But we know that whatever it is, they want to keep it. Badly.”

“Anypony else feel like…” Dominoes spoke up, “That, maybe, we are in way over our heads?”

“What do you mean?” Morning asks.

“Like… Everything about this feels… insane. Grandiose.” She explains as she expands her hooves outwards. “It feels too surreal to be considered reality.”

“... Like what we are doing is a suicide mission?” I asked aloud.

Everypony turned to look at me incredulously. 

“Like we shouldn’t be here in the first place?” I pressed.

“I wasn’t gonna say it like that but, something like that, yeah.”

“Brass said the same thing,” I revealed to them, each of them reacting in their own way ranging from semi-shocked to indifferent. “She thinks what we are doing is suicidal as well.”

Silence, save for the ambient noises of the Olenains milling about around us pretending we don’t exist.

“... What do you think?” Syringe asks.

“Huh?”

“What do you think about this, Sunshine?” she presses me.

“... Honestly? I don’t know. I… I can’t really wrap my head around all the surrounding details of it without going at least a little crazy.”

“We’re a bunch of misfits, who don’t belong, running in a game against the clock, traveling the world in perilous threatening adventures trying to save what we know of the world from destruction.” Syringe chuckles from her belly at that. “Sounds like something the Mane 6 should do, not a rag-tag band of soldiers.”

“So, what? Are we the new heroes of the age, or what?” Dominoes asked aloud.

“We can’t be, I don’t see any magical rainbow beams emitting off of us to suggest otherwise.” Syringe jests, earning a laugh from me. Soon Syringe joined in, then Dominoes, then Morning; even Pumpkin’s normally stoic attitude was replaced with mirth.

All of us shared a little laugh together at the absurdity of the situation we were in. And… It was strange to say, but it felt… good. It felt vindicating in some regard, knowing I wasn’t the only one who acknowledged the surreality of our circumstances.

The tender moment didn’t last as the laughter stopped, replaced with the sounds of idle chatter echoing off the walls from the Olenians.

“... I used to be a gardener.” Morning Dew piped up. All of us gazed at her as she locked her eyes on the wooden platform we sat on. “I would wake up before dawn to tend to my lilacs and lavenders before going through the day.”

She stopped herself from going on right as the sadness laced her tone and words. 

“... My real name isn’t Syringe.” the latter then piped up. “That was only what everypony called me after my Cutie Mark. Truth be told, I never really liked my old name so it stuck.”

“Gray Mane,” I interjected, earning a look from her, “you said your name was Gray Mane, right?”

“... Yeah. Gray Mane.” she wistfully answers. “Nopony hardly remembers it well enough to use it on me though, so Syringe is what everyone calls me.”

“Does it bother you?” I ask.

“The opposite, actually. I never liked my name, as I said,” she concludes, sitting down more hunched up and reserved.

“... I was a father.” Pumpkin Patch bitterly admits. 

A pang of sadness pierced me at those words. He didn’t elaborate further. He didn’t need to.

“... I’m sorry for your loss.” Gray Mane consoles Pumpkin, earning a soft nod from the latter.

“I was a bartender.” Dominoes changed the subject with her own story as well. “Worked in Las Pegasus, too. I had a happy life and… now I have this.” she finishes lamely. “Not… impressive, I know, but it made me happy. Until I was drafted.”

All of us finished, but yet it still felt incomplete. Until I realized that Rain Drop and Storm Cloud were missing. I had no idea what Storm’s origins could be, but Rain Drop? I can at least shed some light on them with his story. 

I just hope he doesn't take offense to me speaking on his behalf.

“Rain Drop, he… I don’t know what he did before the war, but he was at Shire when the battle for it kicked off.” I explained as I watched everyone hone their eyes on me. "He lost a lot of good friends in that battle, and he blames Brass Screws for it because they were together when she ordered a retreat. He blames her for the loss of his friends.”

Nopony responded to that with words, but rather with nods and changed expressions. Some looked empathetic, others confused.

“Brass said so herself to me. And she knows what she did will never be amended in his mind… but…” I trailed off. “I… I would like to think that I helped him in some regard to that, but… I don’t truly know. Only time will tell.”

More nods. Then nothing. Everypony collectively fell quiet again as they were reminded of their own mortality and morality. 

But somewhere buried beneath this pain and struggle that we all shared, there was also a kindred tenderness. A collective bond, one that became more apparent as we talked of our pasts. I knew from then on that we weren’t so different, that we weren’t truly lost yet.

And that fragile tenderness was again broken as I reminded myself of what was to come. Soon, we would be going above ground for combat. Soon, we would join the Olenians in their upcoming struggle. And that struggle would be a bloody one.

New friends were made, and new fears had arisen. At the end of the day, when it is all said and done, I am reminded of one quintessential fact of myself:

I am a coward. I always had been. And I knew today I had a good reason to be afraid. 

Because by the end of today, not everyone will make it to see tomorrow.
> (A3) - Finale: Coward Pt 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 3, Finale: Coward Pt 2



“How does one repay others when what was stolen from them is intangible; a concept?”







June 9th, 1014. Time Unknown.


Click-Clack!

The bolt of my rifle slid along the bore smoothly as I fed the striper clip inside the receiver. Pressing the bullets down sequentially and closing the bolt, the weapon was fully loaded and ready to fire. I aimed down at the floor to check the Iron Sights, which needed to be reoriented just a tad more to the right. 

Calibrated, locked, and loaded, I put the rifle down to take in the scenery around me. 

The Olenians were moving quickly, preparing themselves as they grabbed and loaded their weapons deftly and reported to their officers. 

Marja had spoken to them all prior that we would be moving out, and they wasted no time to prepare themselves. 

In the midst of the commotion, my squad was huddled closer to Marja as they conversed with one another while looking over an interior blueprint of the Hjortland Palace the Olenians managed to snag one day. 

Even Rain Drop was let out of his confinement in time to hear in on the situation. I was worried that he would object the plan and upset the delicate peace we had forged, but he showed no reaction upon hearing other than a swift nod of affirmation. 

“Your team of Pegasi will provide adequete fire support from the rooftops after you’ve relocated from deploying the decoy demolitions. The clouds above can give you cover if you can use them. We expect you to provide overwatch for our advance out of the open through the front plaza when things go awry. In case you are suspected to be a Changeling, the passcode is ‘Velvet.’ Remember that.”

“And how many are we bringing on this? How many do you think will make it through?” Brass asked aloud in a taut tone that bordered exhaustion and adrenaline. 

“We’ll have at least three-hundred of our finest fighters participating in the charge, the rest will stay here in case they counter. Our goal is within the building itself on the second floor on the Northwestern Corner. Once we find an opening inside and secure the building as fast as we can, you will have your chance to scavenge for anything that might hint to what you are looking for. Whatever that may be,” she alluded. “There shouldn’t be more than a hundred outside the Palace if everything goes smoothly.”

“And on the off-chance it doesn’t? What happens then?” Dominoes asked.

“We expect this to be a hard fight regardless. Many of us will not be coming back when this is done. If things go badly, we save whatever we can and issue a general retreat back to the Bastion.” She gives a derisive snort at the thought, glancing back at her comrades before finishing. 

“We will use the craters in the streets as cover, but we will be like rats in a hole without our fire support.” She continued. “When you detonate the charges, contact us on the designated frequency and we will begin. I trust you will do your part?” 

“We will do our best,” Morning Dew replied, her radio pack slung around her back.

“I would hope so,” Marja said tersely, “We are putting all our chips on this bet. I don’t want you to fold at the last minute. You will have 20 minutes until you leave.” Marja nods to Brass before turning away towards her comrades and discuss their plans in their native languages.

“So,” Pumpkin spoke first, “this is it then.” 

Brass nods. “We meet here in 20 to leave. Do whatever you need to do, and carry whatever you need without encumbering yourself. Say your prayers, if you have to.” She remarks before wandering off in the direction of the infirmary. Probably to check on Storm Cloud.

“I have a bad feeling about all of this.” Syringe speaks up next. 

“Who doesn’t?” Rain asks. An awkward silence overtakes us. Thick enough to suffocate if you bask in it.

“I try not to think about that.” Dominoes softly speaks up for us to hear—of which we agree to stop the conversation at that poignant point.

The next 20 minutes went by faster than I would like. Most of it was spent calculating what to leave behind and what to bring with me. I mostly pondered on which weapon I preferred to carry during this enduring confrontation. On the one hoof, I much preferred the Lavender Rifle over the Olenian’s SMG, owed largely due to its sturdy reliability and accuracy over distances. It was, however, cumbersome to reload—especially in tight spaces, where I was going to be in with the Olenian Palace.

Which transitions nicely to the other hoof on the topic; The SMG was compact and lightweight, but was still able to hold and fire a decent amount of bullets within the magazine. Easier to reload to compared to having to feed stripper clips or—even worse—individual bullets into the reciever of the Lavender Rifle. Overall, it made it the perfect choice close quarters combat.

It took me a while, weighing the pros and cons, but I eventually opted the SMG over the Rifle for this one occassion. 

The rest of the time was spent taking inventory of what I had: Two frag grenades, one smoke grenade, four SMG magazines (not counting the one already fed to my gun), a gas mask, an electrical torch to make out underground, and a bayonet.

As I was finishing dressing myself of my equipment, a tap on my shoulder grabs my attention. I turned around to see Syringe holding a potion in front of me.

“Drink, doctor’s orders.” Syringe sternly orders. The bottle’s cork was pulled off by a wingtip and was shoved into my lips before I could even get a sound out of me. It was a thick, bitter, gag-inducing liquid.

Not even a second after I started chugging against my will did my stomach and throat began to revolt. But I had learned the hard way not to question Syringe’s advice. Squinting my eyes and blocking the senses out of my mind’s eye, I forced every last drop down my throat until I could finally breathe.

“Good job,” Syringe sounded impressed.

“If I find out you poisoned me and I die later,” I spoke in between gags, spits, and coughs, “I will haunt you for the rest of your days. What did you just force down my gullet?”

“A Miracle Elixir.” Syringe explained matter-of-factly, “I had to convince Marja to get one for Storm Cloud and for you. Unfortunately for Storm’s case, it will take longer for broken bones to be mended than ruptured tissue, but he will manage within a few hours.”

“Why does every healing potion I ever drink, no matter who makes it, always taste like donkey dung?” I mumble bitterly.

“Trust me,” Syringe rolls her eyes, “I hate it too. Try not to get shot again.”

“Well… thanks, anyway. I can feel it working already.” 

It wasn’t as painful as my last few run-ins with healing poitions, and I could feel each individual tendon and muscle in my leg mend itself to its prior state.

Soon after, everypony (except Storm Cloud) was back in the center of the platform and found Marja waiting for us, with a thick piece paper in her hooves.

Turns out it was a map out of the sewers and into an alleyway about a hundred meters away from Palace Grounds. 

Marja reminds us of our objectives: Deploy the Decoy Explosives away from the Palace Grounds to divert some of the personnel, Make contact with her to begin the attack after they bite the bait, and cover their advance inside and secure the interior. It sounded a lot easier on paper. But there was no turning back now. 

Marja stands atop a table and shouts to grab the attention of every deer here. “Soldiers, Brothers, Sisters, Fellow Comrades in Arms, lend me your ears!” Almost instantaneously, the hundreds of Olenians milling about ceased their preparations to grant their undivided attention to their speaker

Silence overtook the bastion; and not the kind that you learn to tune into, no: there was total silence in the entirety of the Bastion. Marja paused a little longer to let the silence ripen for effect. 

“You expect of me a speech?” She asks rhetorically, earning mute nods. “I have only one to give. It is the same speech I would give to you, were we not about to stand on the battlefield.

“I only ask today for one thing: for you to give heart and to show courage, to see this beautiful country free from the yoke of oppression and tyranny! And today, our pony friends have granted us a unique opportunity that is now ripe for the taking. For today, we take back the heart of this city and the soul of our nation!

“I have had only one dream, in all my time I had spent fighting alongside you all to free this country from the blight that clenches it so! I’ve dream’t of seeing this kingdom united under a crown that cares not for their own personal ambitions, but rather for the ambitions of its people! And it is through its people—it is through each and every single one of you—that we can see this dream become a reality, for it is not because of me, nor the kings of old, nor the politicians of today, that can make this dream a reality, it is through you! Because you are Olenia!”

Murmurs of agreement can be heard throughout the crowd.

“So today, I ask of you to do the same thing you would do were we not here now to risk everything we’ve held so dear! I ask you to fight! To fight for yourselves, to fight for your friends, for your family, for your gods, for your glory, for your survival, for your pride—I do not care what the reason is, so long as you FIGHT!”

Cheers erupts across the crowd spontaneously like an earthquake.

Through it all, Marja stood stoic, but smiling triumphantly all the same.





The grate above my head slid open with a loud grinding sound, thankfully enclosed from an unoccupied alleyway to muffle the noise. My head was the first to peek out after nearly 10 minutes of following a literal paper trail. Eventually, we surfaced to find a cloudy sky blinding Celestia’s sun.

“Clear,” I announced as I gingerly climbed out of the hole. Lending a hoof to help out the next pony behind me, Brass Screws was the first one to grab hold. Syringe, then Morning Dew, Dominoes, Rain Drop, and Pumpkin Patch came after.

“We will have a sentry on the surface ready to receive your signal to give you the best reception possible. Stay on our frequency and give us the go-ahead after you're done. Then we will begin.” An Olenian calls out from below, his voice echoing from the sewers.

“Be ready, we will be done soon enough.” Brass Screws replies back down as she grabs hold of the grate.

“Good luck, fellow comrades. You will need it.” Those were his last words before the lid was sealed.

“Finally,” Dominoes sighs, “I don’t have to smell sewage anymore. I will not miss that stench.”

“Nor do I.” Syringe agrees.

“Focus,” Brass interjects as she clicks the safety of her weapon off, “Do we got the goods Rain Drop?”

“Yep,” he simply replies, showing a saddlebag filled to the brim with TNT, pointing over to Dominoes, “He’s got his too. So, what is our target with these again?”

“Anything that looks important enough to grab their attention for a while, it doesn’t matter what specifically.” Brass breathes a deep breath to herself as each of us readied our weapons. “We keep a low profile until the Olenians pop out of their holes. Until then, the ROE is to return fire and nothing else. We want discretion.”

“No arguments there,” Pumpkin quietly acquiesced. 

“Dominoes, you take point. Everypony else stays close.” Brass orders, as the former nods with resolution. 

Peeking out from the dead-end alley we emerged from, we could hear the din of battle still going on further away from behind us. Our pony comrades were still giving them a tough time from the sound of it, but it wasn’t close enough to draw the Jaegers away from Hjortland’s Palace.

“Sunshine, you said there were some guns near the Palace?” Brass asks quietly from behind.

“Yuh-huh, big ones too. At least 88’s if not bigger.” I informed her. “They were very close to the Palace though, and I didn’t see any other ones that nearby.”

“But they were at least 88’s, right? At the bare minimum?”

“Minimum, yes… What are you planning?” I asked back.

Brass Screws contemplates for a while. “... We don’t have any potential targets far enough away to grab their attention with the decoys… unless we intercept an armed column on the way to the front further south, but that’s a death wish with just us…”

She looks up at the sky. “... It seems the clouds have gotten thicker since you came back, Sunshine.”

I looked up at Brass’s words. And sure enough, they did seem thicker and a lot higher in altitude, at least a hundred meters, though perhaps more so than that. 

“And you said they had a heavy-weapon ammunition stockpile behind the palace as well, didn’t you?”

My heart skipped a beat at those words.

“You… you’re not serious, are you?” Syringe cautiously asks, to which Brass shrugs.

“It depends on how close to the Palace they are, but if I remember correctly from the pictures you lent us,” her eyes lock onto me, “they were far enough to not cause… significant damage to the structure of the Palace.

“Oh Sweet Celestia, she is serious.” Syringe mutters darkly.

“But, isn’t that…” I paused, trying to find the right words as everypony waits for me to speak, “Wouldn’t that put us at risk?”

“We would be high up enough that-”

“No no no no, not like that, I mean…” I paused, looking around instinctively for eavesdroppers until I realized the ridiculousness of that notion and just spoke plainly. 

“What about ‘the bomb?’”

A pause, followed by several hard blinks.

“I mean, think about it logically here: if a large chain-reaction-explosion is set off in the same location where we are potentially searching for a Nuclear Bomb…” 

I didn’t finish. 

Each of them gave a tentative glance at one another. Judging by the cautiously contemplative expressions on their features, I didn’t think I needed to elaborate.

But just to be safe…

“... Is this a risk we want to take?” I finished.

Everypony glanced at one another, waiting for somepony other than themselves to say speak up to this. No counter-argument was made until Brass spoke up.

“Unless we want our Olenian friends to be killed, it’s a risk we have to take. And the longer we delay here, the less chance of success we will have of getting out of here alive.”

I was somewhat appalled at this. I wanted to object, it seemed insane. The potential risk was too great to ignore at the very least, but Brass didn’t even seem to consider that.

Or maybe she didn’t want to think about the consequences of that destructive act.

Either way, it seemed reckless. 

“That… doesn’t seem smart to me,” I spoke honestly. “It seems like we are dabbling with a very dangerous powder keg here… Literally.”

“And I agree.” Brass replies in kind. “But do you have a better idea? Did you see any better targets while you were up there?” 

The challenge left me at a loss for words. And despite the logic behind her request, I couldn’t answer.

There was no better option. And I didn’t have an alternative to her plan because of it. My silence spoke volumes in this case.

“I don’t like it either Sunshine. But if there is no alternative,” she slides the bolt of her rifle back to chamber a bullet, “then we keep going.”

Nopony else dared to speak up apparently, judging by their silence. So I simply nodded in mute agreement.

“Right then. Dominoes, take point. We’re going up to the clouds.”





Maybe it was naive of me to say, but I had hoped that the ongoing conflict from our pony brethren would be more than enough to draw the attention of the Changeling Garrison away from Hjortland Palace. That same hope was already dashed during my reconnaissance mission earlier in the day, but there was at least the saving grace that we would have the element of surprise on our side. 

At least, thats what I thought.

Staring down at the opulent Palace from a patch of Stratocumulus, a nauseating lump in my stomach overtook me. There had to be at least a hundred.

“That is… a lot.” Rain whispered ever so eloquently. 

The garrison had seemingly doubled in size since I last saw them. And that wasn’t just Hyperbole; They were everywhere. Like a miniature hive, they buzzed about across the front plaza stacking sandbags and prepare weaponry, whilst further back there were more Changelings occupying the makeshift trenches they dug out from the dirt of the Botanical Gardens.

Several deafening explosions were fired from behind the Palace Building as mortars and artillery fired away to the south where the fighting was located. The Changelings working on them didn’t seem particularly stressed or rushed; they methodically loaded the guns with trained speed and precision. They continued to fish out more shells from the tents that stockpiled their heavy ammunition, running to and fro in between as they never stopped working around the clock.

“There’s our target.” Brass quietly points to the artillery guns. “Is the Satchel ready?”

“It just needs to be ignited, and we are good to go.” Dominoes answers quickly.

“Alrighty,” Brass shoulders off another satchel she had been carrying, tossing it to Dominoes. “You’re our decoy specialist for this job. I need you to get the party started for us.”

Dominoes deftly catches the bag mid-air and slings it around his torso.

“I do love me some good fireworks.” Dominoes jests.

“Make it a big show. We want as much attention as we can grab from them.”

“And when I’m done?”

“When you’re done, you will rendezvous to us. We will most likely be on the rooftops when shit hits the fan, so look for us.”

“Right then,” Dominoes acquiesced as he turned to take off. But before he took off, a hoof hooks around his leg to stop him.

“And don’t fly back when you are done. They will be expecting Pegasi. Just run back and keep to cover.”

Dominoes nods in mute and takes off in a fast but not to steep dive behind us. Thankfully, we were just far away enough to not be seen by the enemy.

The evening sun was starting to set to the west, casting long shadows to the ground below and illuminating rooftops in a vibrant orange hue. The sun would be in our eyes if we were to start our fight right here.

Not ideal. And Brass knows this. She quietly orders each of us to start flapping our wings and gently push the cloud northbound, slowly and steadily gliding across the sky to not arouse suspicion. It drifted gently for about a few minutes until we were over the roof of the Palace.

“Okay stop moving!” Brass quickly whispers, each of us sitting atop to not expose our bodies in the open. The inertia slows down the clouds and drifts them to a halt.

Right over the Botanical Gardens.

“Okay Sunshine, Which one’s got the biggest caliber of shells?” Brass asks, pointing a hoof down at the tents that their heavy ammunition.

I almost felt bad for the Changelings, for what was about to happen next. 

Almost.

“The biggest green one, there.” I pointed a hoof at the aforementioned target. “That one’s carrying 120 Milimeter shells. A lot of them.”

“I can’t help but feel like this is too easy.” Syringe pipes up quietly.

Each of us collectively spare her glance in mute acknowledgment. 

It did seem easy. Too easy, in fact. I remember I had a much harder time getting by the Changeling Garrisons with less peering eyes to look out for. Now that we are over the Palace Grounds without getting caught despite there being more of them, I can’t help but wonder.

How?

It seemed too unlikely for it to be possible. How have they not spotted us? They spotted me just as easily, and there weren’t even that many back then. And yet, we still are breathing to prove it to be true. Not shot was fired, no shout was heard. 

“Doesn’t matter now, we’re here.” Brass interrupts my thoughts by carefully scooting away from the cloud’s edge. “Okay, Morning, is your pack on?”

“Not yet.”

“When we hear Dominoes put on his fireworks, thats when you give the signal,” She turns to Rain Drop, “when that happens, I want you to light the goods and drop it onto the shells below.”

The latter nods, his forehooves slinging the satchel off of him carefully to not drop it. His body may be able to sit in clouds, but the same cannot be said for our equipment.

“For now, we wait.” Brass orders with a whisper. 

For about five nerve-wracking, ephemerally eternal minutes, we’ve played hide-and-seek with our greatest enemies down below us, being the closest we’ve been to our goal in… who knows how long? 

It felt like I was sitting on a precipice, staring down at destiny below.

“This is taking too long!” Rain whispers.

“Shhh!”

No more words were spoken, but the suspense was—pardon the cliche—fucking unbearable. I was starting to shake at the limbs a little, calming myself only with quiet breathing exercises.

“... Where the fuck is he?” Brass whispers coarsely. “They are starting to look at our cloud.”

My heart started beating faster. 

“Come on Dominoes.” I whispered aloud. “Don’t fail us now—”

Kra-Koom!

From behind me, the most jubilating explosion I had heard in a while sounded off just in front of the Palace Plaza, practically eviscerating the building it detonated in while toppling down several stories of the neighboring apartments, crashing down in a spectacular fashion. 

It shook the foundations of neighboring buildings enough for them to start collapsing down as well, destroying half of the block it detonated in.

“That’s our cue! Now!” Brass points at both Rain and at Morning, signalling both to do their work.

Everything that happened next was simultaneous.

Rain Drop quickly ignites the fuse of the Satchel, and tosses it downwards at such an angle it would bounce forward and slide into the Tent with perfect accuracy.

Morning Dew would switch the power of her radio and Brass quickly got to work operating it; twisting several knobs and dials to hone in on the frequency and to get the transmitter running.

Everypony else—myself included—peered down with our weapons ready in case they had spotted us, but none were too busy looking up at us when they were preoccupied with what looked like an incoming assault on their strongpoint.

“The nest has been rattled, I say again, the nest has been rattled!” Morning Dew calls through on the telephone with finality, giving the signal. “All hooves, get to—”


KRAKAKA-KABOOOOOOOOM!


Heat and intense force catapulted us off our clouds, as the shockwave from the mighty explosions below dissipated our cloud cover almost instantly. 

The blast had knocked me upward to the sky, leaving me off balance and spinning in random directions, I could hear a few snaps of flying shrapnel zipping pass me.

Instinctively, I had regained control of my flight and hovered in place long enough to see a dark cloud of soot and ash billow upward toward us from the blast.

Looking down I saw most of my squad regaining stability and quickly dispersing into separate directions to conceal themselves among clouds and buildings down below. I didn’t have time to see who remained afterward and promptly flew back towards the nearest pony I could find.

Rain Drop was hugging a smaller patch by his lonesome until I planned myself next to him and curled up as small as I could. 

Rain shot me a deathly stare for a moment, but swallowed whatever he was going to say.

Frantic screaming and shouting were heard from below as some of the Changelings in the garrisons were annihilated by the blast. The others were either gravely wounded or tending to the wounded. 

Every-ling was left reeling after such an explosion that some abandoned their posts to help tend the now roaring fires of secondary munition explosions going off behind them.  They took care to try and save whatever wounded remained as well.

A new sound was then heard below me; The sound of a shrill whistle being blown.


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH


A roaring cacophony; of Screams, bellows, shouts, battle cries, and promises of death as I saw Olenian figures emerge from the windows of buildings, from the grate holes of sewers, and from around the corners of streets to charge into the fray. 

Soon the gunfire started. 

Tartarus was let loose.

“You hurt?!” Rain Drop asked out of the blue.

“N-no, just shaken-”

“Then start shooting!” he shouts, leaving no more words to be said as he flies down from his cloud and glides towards the rooftops. Leaving me alone on this barely surviving patch of cloud.

I looked down at the gristly scene. White Tracers of automatic fire from the Olenians are suppressing whatever Changelings still remained. 

The few that didn’t abandon their forward positions to help the garrison found themselves paying the price for their diligence in death. 

They were quickly overwhelmed, and the Deer that weren’t busy shooting were steadily advancing forward across the front Plaza taking cover in anything they could find—Leftover sandbags, Craters in the streets, and overturned vehicles.

I scanned the battlefield. I saw where Rain flew towards, providing suppressing fire with his Everfree SLR to cover the advance. 

Scanning at the clouds above me I found nopony shooting down from them.

Scanning the rooftops of the Hjortland Palace, I was surprised to see Pumpkin Patch up there instead of Changelings. 

He was busy sniping them from behind, picking them off without them even realizing they were being flanked.

A snap passes over me. Instinct realizes I am being shot and promptly takes over, gliding my body down in an evasive manner to get to the rooftops next to Rain Drop.

Landing rather roughly for my liking, I slammed down in a painful thud on the uncomfortably constructed shingles of the roof tiles. My gun slipped from my grasp and was sliding down the roof.

“Shit!” I swore as I yanked it back with a hoof, my body sliding down the roof with it until I was face to face with the ground, dangling over the edge.

Only to be stopped by Rain Drop grabbing my tail with his mouth, and pulling me and my gun back up.

“I hope me saving you isn’t gonna become a habit.” He groans as he balances me to my hooves.

“Sorry,” I can only mutter as I carefully climb my way back up to the crest. Peaking over, I see the forward positions of the Changeling Garrisons being overrun entirely, leaving only the second line of defense at the Palace Steps itself for them to fall back to. 

Most didn’t make it, as they were shot in the back.

“I lost sight of everyone else, and the bugs are starting to get wise.” Rain Drop fills me in. “There’s still some Jaegers left hiding behind the windows.”

“Pumpkin’s on the roof of the Palace, last I saw him!” I replied in a hurry as I steadied my gun along the roof crest to aim.

Taking sights as one peeking from behind a Corinthian Column near the front stairs, I squeezed the trigger. The SMG sounds off relatively quietly, in comparison to the deafening onslaught ahead of me. And it was not accurate enough to land a hit, but it did scare him.

“We do what we can, make these shots count!” Rain methodically replies as he returns fire with short bursts of automatic suppression. He targets the windows where he can see muzzles flashing off, giving the Jeagers something to worry about.

“Cover me, Gotta load!” he announces as he shifts down from the crest and lets me take over. I squeeze my trigger in a sequential fashion, disregarding accuracy in favor of suppression as I let loose a hail of bullets down below. Many of them struck close to home, but no dice on any hits. But it did the job of providing a deterrent to peeking out again. 

Some of them were growing wise though, as Rain aptly put it earlier. Snaps and Cracks of bullets striking the roof in front of me forced me to scoot down just in time to see Rain Drop done reloading.

“They know we’re here, we gotta move!” I warned Rain, as he pulled back the receiver’s action and reloads his weapon.

“We gotta get inside if we wanna do some good!” Rain replies. “And we can’t do shit until the Olenians provide covering fire for us!”

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing that for them?!”

“It works both ways, dammit!” He curses back as he contemplates on what to do.

Kra-Boom!

An explosion sounds off on the roof behind us, just barely over the crest we were hiding behind.

“Shit!”

“What was that?!” I asked.

“They got fucking Rifle-Grenades!”

Another explosion sounds off to confirm his suspicion. They exploded on impact, and they were getting closer to us.

“We gotta—Shit!” Rain swiftly takes aim behind me, prompting me to yelp and scoot out of the way before he lets loose a barrage down below. Snaps of bullets fly back at us in return. “They’re below us! We gotta go!” he quickly takes flight after emptying the magazine. I followed suit, flying parallel to the apartments we were hiding atop and over derelict alleyways. Bullets zip and snap past us in stubborn determination, some flying by closer than I would like.

Rain dips around the corner of these apartments to the left and I quickly dip around in pursuit, seeing him gliding down to land on the sidewalk. He then books another left onto the main street of Front Plaza.

“What the fu—RAIN!” I tried to call out as he charged head-first into No-Creature’s Land.

I wanted to chase after him, until I remembered we were being pursued ourselves.

Swiftly turning around and hovering in place with as much stability as I could muster, I took aim down the street with my SMG aiming high. 

I knew they would be coming, and chances are they would be flying after me like I was.

The first one came around the corner at the ground, aiming at ground level without him seeing me. 

I took the first chance and squeezed a short burst at him in his head. He drops down unceremoniously in a lifeless thump. 

A bullet snaps over me as the second one, flying above me, misses an easy shot with his rifle and was struggling to load another round.

I squeezed the trigger again.

Click-Click.

Pure dread encompasses my being as my neurons fire up the fight-or-flight response. I felt my gun empty, and I saw my enemy reload. 

Instinct told me to charge him, and I obliged by throwing it at him.

Bellowing a shriek, I flew at him with hooves extended. The sheer audacity of my stunt was enough to stun him for a precious half of a second as I closed the distance. 

To his credit, he snapped out of it remarkably fast and took aim after clicking the bolt.

The rifle sounded off just above my head as I made contact and tackled him with as much strength as I could muster. He lost grip of his gun and he and I both fell down to the earth in a painful crash and tumbled around a little while.

I had lost my grip on him, and soon he rolled and tumbled out of my grasp as both of us came sliding to a painful stop. 

Both of us groaning, we looked up at each other and he saw both of us without our weapons. It was only then did I realize I had dropped my gun in lieu of tackling him in desperation.

He and I quickly stood up, fumbling around as he furiously gestures his hooves towards his helmet.

I wasted no time charging him again as he unbuckles his helmet straps.

Blong!!

“Ah, sonuvabitch!” I swore aloud.

His helmet painfully connects to my face, and I wished I could say it didn’t fucking hurt! 

Another painful force to my torso knocks the wind out of me, and I see my attacker now atop of me in full mount, his face donning the look of wrath.

Still strugglin to breathe, I found myself depleted of energy as he forcefully plants his hooves onto my throat and starts choking.

Sharp pain invaded my throat. I couldn’t breathe, and the fire in my lungs was starting to become agonizing.

I felt my head tighten from pressure, and my eyes started leaking as my limbs desperately flail about and slap back in futile resistance.

Until I felt something heavy and solid to my left. His helmet that he threw. 

At this point, I was feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Desperately clawing, scratching, grasping at the straps to pull it closer, I turned it over until finally I found a good grip.

And I swung, with the last vestige of strength left, right onto his horn, as it snaps and cracks into pieces.

He lets out a blood-curdling scream, letting go of my neck instantly to clutch his forehead as green blood seeped profusely from it.

Gasping and coughing violently, I finally managed to breathe oxygen as I feel life flowing into me again.

Looking at my attacker, he was too incapacitated to stop screaming or let go of his now bleeding horn, as it crackles and snaps with unbound energy.

The other piece of it was laying off to the side, in a rather sorry state without its counterpart.

Grabbing the helmet with my forehooves, I felt that instinct take over again. 

After another arduous crawl towards my wailing enemy, I mounted atop of him, clutching the sides of his helmet. He looks through the holes in his chitin hooves, and he sees me atop of him ready to kill.

His arms feebly reach and grab onto me. “Nein, Bitte, Bitt—”

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

The sounds of the world drowned out like I was underwater. But still I kept going. 

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

I looked down at my victim and saw what used to be a skull. Now it was a crevice, with pulpuous brain matter bleeding profusely from the bottom.

I tossed the helmet aside and looked around for my weapon. Seeing it lying in the middle of the street, I inspected it for damage.

“Still good.” I said to myself, my shaking hooves struggling to release the magazine to load a new one in.

After a little fumbling around, I felt a wave of nausea creeping up that I had violently suppressed with a shake of my head. 

“Don’t think about it,” I said to myself as I cocked the mechanism back to load another mag, “Just don't think about it.” My hearing started returning to me a little, and I could hear the din of battle growing louder with each passing second.

My senses returned when I finally finished reloading and saw that the Olenians were holed up in various positions. They couldn’t advance any further; the fire from the Palace stalled their advance, and they were pinned. 

Several Changelings took a few opportunity potshots at the holed-up Olenians by flying above them and shooting down below. Many of them were shot down in response to this, but not without taking someone with them.

The situation was deteriorating, and I couldn’t find Rain Drop or anypony else anywhere.

I saw Olenians throwing smoke grenades over their craters to try and block their line of sight. They were also busy throwing back Changeling grenades landing in their holes, some exploding just over their heads too close for comfort. 

It took several long minutes until their smoke grenades were finally billowing enough to block the whole front plaza sightline altogether. 

A few pot shots were fired through the smoke from both sides, neither of which was landing any hits.

I took it as a sign to move forward, moving from cover to cover as I saw many Olenian and Changeling Corpses across streets and narrow grassy fields. More Changeling bodies than Olenians, but who knows how long that will last?

Charging forward until I was on the leftmost street, I found a crater harboring a singular Olenian. He seemed confused as to my presence, and aimed their guns swiftly at me in suspicion.

“Velvet, Velvet, Velvet!” I spoke the passcode over and over as I jumped inside. He understood me, at least; He wasn’t aiming at me anymore.

As I panted heavily from the sprinting and exertion, I found myself listening to the few potshots that were being fired across the plaza. The Olenian in my hole with me was groaning.

I looked at him and saw he had a bullet wound on his stomach that he was clutching with a free hoof.

“Oh shit.” I voiced aloud. 

He didn’t seem to understand me, as his attention was hyper-fixated on his wound.

He looked scared.

“Hang on, hang on,” I spoke to him as I gingerly pulled out a precious bandage for him. Only one of two.

I was faced with a dilemma: Do I save him? Can I save him? Use a precious bandage on him?

I shook my head clear of those thoughts and got to work applying pressure to the wound. It didn’t look like the bullet went through.

That’s bad.

Applying pressure to his wound, I squeezed on it as hard as I could. My hooves were now stained with his blood, the bandage soaking up a lot of crimson.

He looks at me with confused gratitude. He looked like he was barely an adult.

“Kittos.” He speaks in his young, native tongue.

“Uh…” I hummed, “... you’re welcome?”

I wasn’t sure what else to say.

Wrapping it around and tying it to his torso, the pressure applied would at least prolong his life, if nothing else. I heard him wince and groan a few times but was otherwise lenient on my actions.

I tuned my ears to hear any of my squad mates, to listen to their voices and see if they were alive. I hear a few others shouting, none of them familiar.

That was when I noticed it. How… quiet everything was.

No gunshots, only sporadic shouting.

The smoke billowed in front of us slowly and was taking a long time to dissipate. A couple of shots were heard then, but not many more afterward. 

It was way too quiet now for what had happened minutes before this. 

Shouts from the Changeling side overpowered the shouting from the Olenians. It sounded like… parlay? I didn’t know. It was too foreign for me to interpret.

It was moments like these where I wished I had Syringe’s linguistic talents.

Machine Gun fire from the Palace abruptly halts any sort of communication there was for a few seconds before it, too, goes quiet. The smoke was dissipating enough for both sides to see through. I could see faint outlines of Changelings rushing inside the doors of the Palace.

What was going on?

I scooted down from the crater’s edge towards the bottom after feeling a sudden overwhelming premonition. 

Something was about to happen.

Something very bad.

There weren’t many sounds to tune in to besides faint gunfire further south and shouting from all around us. This left an air of unbridled tension that was waiting to be punctured with a bullet, but no such bullets came. Everyone was content to hide in their holes and wait for a long while.

And it was during the dead stillness of this makeshift ceasefire that a new sound emerged.

Hissing.

Like a snake, it sounded too artificial to be any animal or creature. It sounded like a vapor, being constantly leaked.

“KAASU! KAASU!” 

The Olenian suddenly screamed from beside me, terror overtaking his voice. 

"KAASU!"

That word was repeated all across the Olenians frantically, leaving me dumbfounded.

A whiff of chlorine pervades my nostrils.

And like a silver bullet piercing through the fog of my confusion, I realized with bone-chilling, heart-pounding horror what was happening.

It wasn’t until I heard a Ponish scream from somewhere behind me that my dreadful suspicions were confirmed.

"GAS! GAS INCOMING!"

There was no time wasted.

My hooves moved lightning quick to grab the mask dangling from my hip this entire time as I tried to mount it on my face. 

The noxious fumes were starting to make my eyes water, and my throat started to burn as well. 

Pulling it off my waist, I went to wear the mask until I saw something; something that made my heart stop and made me want to scream.

An invisible wall of death approached. 

And my gas mask was broken in the goggles as the lens was cracked open from shrapnel.

Fear.

It seized me as I started to cough violently. 

The sensation that was meant to relieve me actually brought more pain instead; I can feel my throat rupturing at the seams as my vocal cords felt like they were disintegrating. My lungs were burning like brimstone as well. 

That same fear turned into pure, unadulterated terror as I realized I couldn’t escape. 

They would shoot me dead if I tried to flee. 

But if I stayed here, I would be dead anyway.

I was about to die.

The Olenian next to me started to cough violently as well. 

I could see his eyes streaming black tears as they lost their color. Mine were starting to lose vision as well, but still I saw he had no mask on himself, as he was busy trying to multi-task pressuring his wound and trying to put on his mask. 

He fumbled said mask out of his hoof and it tumbled onto the bottom of the crater below.

Perfectly intact.

Filter in place.

He desperately went to reach for it, his other hoof never leaving his wound as he looked on with horrifying realization that he wouldn’t make it in time.

Instinct. It grabbed me again.

Scrambling down onto the crater, I grabbed the mask gingerly to not compromise it and inspect its condition—of which was perfect. 

The Olenian looks at me with pleading eyes.

And without a second thought of hesitation and started to apply the straps onto myself, fixing it in place over my face. 

As I did so, I could feel the Olenian’s feeble hooves attempt to dislodge the mask from me. His voice was muffled, my perception of sound drowned out as I only focused on the present moment.

His cries turned into pleas. I can see him struggling to breath as a thin vapor billows inside the hole with us. Through my masked breathing, I can still hear him struggling to do just that; breathe.

Snapping the final straps in place, I could feel filtered oxygen seep into my lungs, untained by the horrors outside. Clarity and relief flooded my mind as I breathed the first few breathes of fresh air.

My eyes drift downward to the now limp Olenian, still bleeding but now still. His eyes were tinted rosy red, a look of horror permanently etched onto his features.

He soon went still afterward.

A wave of nausea assaulted me. The realization of what I had done slams me like a freight train. 

I had killed before, but… this wasn’t the same.

I smothered his chances of survival without a second thought. I killed what was supposed to be my ally.

And his kindness was betrayed by those he was trying to help.

Tears well up again; not from the gas this time. I wanted to take my mask off to dry them, but that would be fatal to try.

“Celestia forgive me…” I pathetically whimpered as I grabbed his lifeless corpse and tucked his arms over his still bleeding chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

That was when I heard someone shuffling from behind me and landing in the hole I was in. I turned to see Syringe staring down at me and the body with her mask on, taking cover from her enemies.

“What…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I…” I whimpered again, sniffling a little as I try to get my shit together. “I-I did what I could, but he…” I lied.

Somehow, the lie felt more heinous than the actual deed.

Syringe did a double take on the body and my broken gas mask laying at his feet.

“... There was nothing you could’ve done.” Syringe attempts to reassure me. And it only made the guilt even worse. “You did what you could.”

Celestia help me. Syringe doesn’t even realize what I did.

“Stay down.” Syringe urges me while pulling me away from the body, her weapon trained outside the crater. “They’re gonna counter-attack any second now. Get ready.”

Her decisive words snapped me out of my self-hatred-fuelled-stupor. Shaking my head to dry my tears and readying my SMG, I laid on my backside next to Syringe and aimed above me for any intruders.

A few snaps passed over me, as the gunfire returned from the Changeling’s side. Trying to suppress us while covering their comrade’s advance against us. I still had a few frag grenades left I was saving for inside, but it dawned on me that I might have to use them now lest I wish to be killed.

“Got any ‘nades left?” I asked aloud, sniffling once to clear my snotty nostrils.

“Just one.” she answered back, her voice muffled through the mask.

“Make them count.”

The din of battle resumed to its previous intensity as the Olenians were returning fire. It was getting hard to see the enemy with the gas pervading all across the plaza, but that means they need masks too. Both sides had a mutual disadvantage in that regard.

Which means they would likely not want to advance in the open, but rather…

“Check the buildings next to us, that might be where they are coming from!” I called out to Syringe, her gun swiveling around to the apartment next to us as she took aim; my gun trained down the street behind her. 

Soon afterward, a figure with glowing blue eyes emerges from the second story, peeking through a window.

Syringe fires a round from her rifle and strikes true. A loud cry of pain was heard from inside.

“Got one!” she announces as she cocks another bullet in. A second pair of eyes emerge from the first floor, kicking open a door right in front of us barely more than a meter away.

My SMG lets loose another hail into his armored chitin, most of them puncturing inside his organs. He stumbles backwards, then forwards in futile resistance, until he falls down onto his mask face first with a groan.

“Gun down!” I said as I ejected the magazine, Syringe’s aimed trained proper on the building next to us. Shouting was heard from inside.

“More incoming!” She warns me as I hastened to feed the magazine into the receiver. Cocking it in place, I began to scramble upward. 

“Cover me, I’m going in!” I announce to Syringe. Before she could protest, I leapt forward into the open door and landed uncomfortably on my belly. 

A few snaps of bullets flew pass me as I made my way out of the open.

Grabbing my wits and getting on my hooves, fear had temporarily left my system and was replaced with stupid bravado. Inside was an empty living room devoid of furniture and cover, so I stood on my hindlegs against a wall covering the front door and the staircase. 

I can hear loud thumping of hoofsteps above me, along with Changelings shouting.

One of them was marching down the stairs as fast as he could to try and close the door, only to be intercepted by bullets to the head as he tumbled down the stairs in a lifeless heap. 

Training my gun upstairs, I saw another pair of glowing eyes staring at me with his rifle trained down.

The two of us exchanged fire with one another, both of our shots failing to land and prompting us to take cover.

“Sheiße!” I heard him swear upstairs as he cocked another round. 

Peeking that again was a death sentence. Fishing for one of my grenades in my vest, I ignited the fuse and blindly tossed it upstairs. A shot rang out, followed by a frantic scream.

Kra-Koom!

My body swiveled around as I went upstairs on my hind legs, weapon trained upstairs. 

During my slow ascent, I spotted mangled remains of the Changeling, who was seen lying fetal in the doorway missing a foreleg as it was tossed next to him. He was twitching on the ground, but was otherwise neutralized. 

My gun swivelled around the doorway upstairs to see a Changeling lying beneath a window while clutching his neck. Sickly noises were emanating off of him as he struggled to breathe and stop the bleeding.

His eyes go wide when he locks onto mine. We both stared, admittedly a little dumbfounded. He then sagged his shoulders and his limbs fell limp. 

The eyes went still after that.

I took the time to pat down each body for any spare grenades. One smoke and one frag grenade in total. 

Quickly galloping downstairs, I found Syringe still hunkering down in the crater I left behind, her focus trained on the Palace in front of her. “Building’s clear!” I yelled through my mask.

She didn’t acknowledge me, too busy reloading her weapon. A stray bullet snaps past, causing me to jump back from the doorway as it ricochets off a wall.

“Too many fucking bugs!” Syringe screams through her mask. “I can’t move!”

A small peek from behind the door was all I need to see what Syring was talking about. Though the cloud of gas was still pervading in the air around us, I could see the windows each harbor a metal rod potruding out of them, firing round after round against their enemies.  The muzzle flashes were bright enough to illuminate their faces in the darkness of the windows.

Green tracers of Machine Gun fire fly past in a deafening roar of a Buzzsaw, a torrent of gunfire erupting from the Palace. Most of them were landing on the streets, trying to either kill or supress those holed up inside the Craters. Olenian and Changeling bodies alike were piling up all along the street.

Syringe was the only face I recognized. And she was in a bad spot. If she stayed there any longer…

“SYRINGE!” I screamed as loud as I could through the clammy mask. She gives me a quick look. “GET INSIDE!” I dared myself to peek around and fire a few rounds into a window. It didn’t achieve much.

Syringe, meanwhile, tried to move, but found herself stuck underneath a hail of bullets flying over her head. Many of them landing close to her.

It was starting to rupture my eardrums with the amount of gunfire going on, as I hear the faintest ringing of tinnitus in the background. 

But I didn’t need to hear what was going to happen next; I could feel it coming before I heard it.

I looked at the ground, vibrating as tiny pebbles bounced up and down. My hooves were quaking as they stood on the ground. My heart drops and a cold sensation washes over me. 

I recognized that sensation.

“SYRINGE!” I screamed again, “WE HAVE TO GO!”

The rumbling of the Panzer Engine emerging from our rear was heard soon after. Syringe did a double take behind her and to me. And though I couldn’t see her face, I could see her eyes: her pupils were dilated and shrunk into pinpricks as pure panic seeps into her features. 

She knows what is coming, but she can’t move.

The gunfire was starting to slow down as everyone on the battlefield heard what was coming. All eyes trained to the south.

There was no way I could reach to Syringe and bring her into relative safety without getting shot at myself

And I couldn’t bring myself to leave her behind. 

So instead of running, I jumped in with her as I tackled her to the ground.

Green Tracers whizz overhead immediately afterward, narrowly missing their mark. 

“Stay down!” I yelled as both of us laid as low to the ground as possible. I didn’t dare to peek my head up to see what came next.

Somewhere in the main street next to me, sounds of Olenians warning each other of the imminent danger were superceded by the din of automatic gunfire. The treads were rumbling close enough that I can assume it passed around a curb, aiming at our direction.

Heart-pounding, soul-terrorizing silence took over the battlefield for only a couple of seconds as I could hear the grinding mechanisms of the turret swiveling in our direction.

KRA-BOOOM!

The shell pierce’s overhead with a shrill whistle. The detonation that followed, strangely enough, was further north than I expected. 

Green tracers of MG fire buzz from the tank, snapping overhead indiscriminately.

My brain worked furiously; The shell and the bullets were missing us entirely, and were aiming at the Palace.

Are they targeting their own allies?

“What is going on? Why aren’t they shooting at us?” Syringe noticed it too.

Eventually, the MG fire was salvoed back in kind from the Palace Windows as the Changelings returned fire on the Panzer down the street. 

KRA-BOOOM!

Another mighty explosions rocks the direction of the Palace. Taking a few seconds to steel myself, I dared my body to creep up the slope of the crater and peek overhead.

The Palace had two gaping holes blown open from the first floor, collapsing the foundations of the second and third floors that then caused an artificial landslide. The debris from the destruction piled up to form a makeshift ramp to scale up the enemy defenses, and granting access inside.

Turning my head around, I saw the Panzer in Question aiming its guns at the Palace… boasting an battle-torn Olenian Flag staffed at the top of the turret. 

“Sweet Celestia, it’s one of ours!” I announced aloud, looking down at Syringe’s wide eyes “The Olenians-”

Ping!

An immense force rocked craned my neck downward as my body went flying forward atop of Sryinge almost instantly. My dead weight had knocked the wind out of her, and I struggled for a moment to gather my bearings at what happened.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Syringe frantically asked over my limp body as she inspected my head for injuries. That was when I noticed I had lost my helmet.

“Yeah yeah, I’m okay… I think. Am I?” I asked.

“I… somehow, yeah! You got shot in the head!”

My heart dropped. I quickly reached to grab my helmet, my body subconsciously taking care to keep as low as possible this time, as I saw a white indenture of a bullet impacting the top of my Brodie Helmet. 

It ricochetted clean off the scalp, leaving only a white mark to prove my survival. I quickly put it back on.

“I am never taking this damn thing off again!” I spoke aloud as I buckled the snap back beneath my chin.

“Don’t fucking peek over like that next time!” Syringe chastised with a slap to my shoulder. “I thought you died!”

“So did I.” I replied honestly as I grabbed my dropped weapon.

KRA-BOOOM!

The explosion behind me reminded me of my message. “The Panzer outside is Olenian! They have that thing commandeered!”

“Yeah I figured that much, but how?”

I looked at the building I cleared earlier, seeing a more reasonable chance to infiltrate now that we have a tank supporting us. “We gotta get to better cover!” I announced as I swiftly took off and dove inside the front door. Nobody shot at me this time.

Syringe wasted no time to dive after me, taking a breather after closing the door behind her. 

“Now what?” she panted. 

“Now we find the others and make our way inside!”

“Yeah, but, how?”

Good Question, I thought to myself.

BAM!

The door violently slams open, startling both me ans Syringe half to death as Rain Drop comes barreling through the door way panting and wheezing, scrambling to close the mangled frame back in place. 

Me and Syringe quickly recovered, prompting both of us to raise our weapons in suspicion of him being a bug; only to hear him yell out:

“Sweet Luna’s Tits! It’s fucking Tartarus out there!” 

He looks up at both of us after his rant and furrows his brow.

“Fuck off, I don’t have time for that right now!”

“... Yeah, thats him,” Syringe sighs, “no bug can replicate that.”

Bullets shatter the nearby windows, as green tracers of Machine Gun fire were trying to hit us.

“We need to move!” I called out as I scrambled upstairs away from the door. Rain and Syringe followed suit and hugged the nearby walls.

“RAIN, DID YOU SEE ANYPONY ELSE OUT THERE?!” Syringe yells over the deafening gunfire.

“FUCK NO! I WAS BUSY STAYING ALIVE! YOU SEE WHAT WE ARE DEALING WITH?!”

“SHUT UP!” I screamed over everything, plugging my ears with my wings and cradling my head with my hooves trying to desperately hunker down. I could hear the walls behind me struggle to maintain their integrity as the onslaught continued.

Until it stopped, just as suddenly as it began.

A split second of reprieve prompted all of us to scramble back downstairs, looking for a way out in the back.

A door leading to the back alleys where me and Rain were chased earlier was spotted wide open. Rain cautiously peeked both ways, before prompting us to follow him. The alley in question had rows of wooden fences—some mangled, some not—potruding from various doors of other apartments. 

The three of us hunkered behind one of these fences, masks still on all of us. By this point, I was exhausted, sweaty, and struggling to process with everything thats happened. It was hard to catch my breath. 

“Wait,” Rain suddenly raised a hoof to stop us, “Hold on a sec.”

The three of us immediately got as low to the ground as possible.

Rain, with great reluctance and caution, took off his mask just barely to sniff the air.

“... It’s clean here,” he announces with some shock, taking off his mask in full. “The air is fresh.”

Syringe and I exchanged a double take, before proceeding to take off our masks. And much to my astonishment as well, the air was (relatively) fresh.

“Okay, let’s just… catch our breaths for a moment here.” Rain announced as he slags down against the fence in fatigue. “I need a minute.”

“Same,” Syringe agrees.

All of us were sitting down with our backs against the wall, trying to recover from everything in a brief respite before continuing on. The gunfire heard from battle was echoing off the walls, but was losing their audible power to make it not as punishing on my poor ears.

I wish the army had invested in ear plugs.

“This is crazy,” Rain broke the silence, “even after the explosions, they still fuck us up.”

“Okay okay, listen,” I spoke in between my breaths, “I saw Pumpkin on the roof of the Palace earlier. I don’t know if he is still alive or where the fuck he is, but I know I saw him.”

“You sure it ain’t just a bug, disguised as him?” Rain asked.

I paused. 

“... I hadn’t thought of that before, but… he wasn’t trying to shoot ahead, he was shooting down. At the bugs as well, so… I don’t think that’s the case.”

“... Okay, if he isn’t—which is unlikely—but if he isn’t; then we rendezvous with him and find our way inside together. Then we try and get the job done.”

“What about Brass and the others?”

This question paused Rain as well, as he gave no shift in his expression except for a singular hard blink. 

“If there is one thing I can give Brass credit for, it’s that she is resourceful. She can get the job done with whoever she has as well. She will have to manage on her own.

“Right now, we need to focus on keeping ourselves alive.”

“I agree,” Syringe acquiesced with a slight frown. “I don’t want to abandon them on account of my Hippocratic oath, but… I’m also no good to them dead.”

Both of them, gave me a wary look, expecting resistance, but hoping for compliance.

“... Okay then. Your call, Rain.” I nodded to him.

He nods back. “We move cover to cover, and don’t fly unless we have to. We get as close as we can to the Palace without getting caught, and we find a way to get inside. When we approach, we frag the fuck out of it and clear our way inside. 

“How many smoke grenades do you guys have?”

I did a count, alongside Syringe.

“I got two.” Syringe answered.

“One for me.” I answered.

“And that leaves me with two as well.” Rain answered. “We throw them into the enemy positions to cover our advance.”

“Sounds good.” Syringe agrees by grabbing hold of her weapon. 

“Hey, hey,” Rain drop stops all of us before we got up. 

“We may die here today.”

His somber words left both me and Syringe in stunned silence, as it came out of nowhere.

“... But before we do, let’s kill as many of these fuckers as we can, okay?”

Me and Syringe gave another double take at one another. Syringe was the first to nod, before I followed.

“Yeah. I’m with you. Let’s do it,” Syringe complied by cocking another round in the chamber. 

All of us quickly got to work. 

We slowly trotted along the alley way until we made our way towards the edge. There we saw the edges of the Palace with its gaping holes now being covered by Changelings firing from inside. 

I glancecd upward at the roof and saw no Changeling nor Pony occupying it.

“Ready smokes, throw them at the hole.” Rain Drop orders, all of us fetching them out and ready to pull the pins.

“Now!” 

Each of us hurls it with our hooves as far as physically possible, all three of them landing just shy of the landfill at the bottom of the hole.

“Now on the streets in front of us!” he orders, and again we threw them at the road. They landed a few meters in front of us.

A tense half-minute passes until the white vapor billows enough to create a thick screen for us to move through. Another half minute passes, and the hole is now being smothered as well as some of the windows. 

“Masks on!” Rain Drop orders again, each of us doing so as we steeled ourselves. 

“On my go!” Rain holds up three feathers of his wing and counts down.

Three.

Two.

One.

“GO!”

Each of us sprinted off as fast as our hooves could carry us. We booked it straight across the streets, aiming for the gaping hole inside. 

We each took cover behind an over turned automobile when the bullets eventually started to fly over us. 

“FRAGS!” Rain yells, fetching one out with his wings and deftly igniting and throwing the projectile within five seconds. Me and Syringe managed to do it in about ten seconds.

Each of them hit their mark, landing in the hole one after the other, detonating inside to unleash their fury. 

“GO!” Rain Screams, and again we charged forward. The bullets were not flying at us as intensely as we saw some of our Olenian Comrades inching forward despite the casualties.

Rain was the first to enter, as he lets loos a barrage of bullets inside while floating up and firing from the hip with his Machine Gun. Syringe and me respectively followed suit.

I saw what he was aiming at as my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness of inside, seeing Changelings fleeing away from the hole as we took aim. Many of them fell and didn’t make it. 

“Reloading!” Rain yells as he takes cover inside. Syringe and I cover the hallways as he feeds another magazine.

A Changeling attempts to fire an SMG wildly in our direction, while peeking from a door down the hall. 

Syringe disposed him in a single shot to the head, and he collapses. 

“Good to go!” Syringe announces as both of us scrambled our way inside.

“More up the stairs!” I yelled out as I stood behind Rain against a wall. 

Syringe took to the other side of the hall, looking inward.

Rain peeked, and I heard a burst of fire from above. Bullets landed near Syringe, prompting her to hunker in as Rain retaliated.

I heard a shrill scream, followed by constand thumping. A body then tumbles into view from the stairs, and Syringe plants another bullet in the head.

“Down!” Syringe’s muffled voice yells, cocking another bullet.

I heard whistles blowing behind me coming from outside, followed by another orchestra of shouting.

Syringe looked back at the hole, her mask obscuring her features. “The Olenians are coming!” I hear her shout.

“Finally!” Rain cheers. “Sunshine, clear the stairs, I got the hallway. Syringe, you get the door to your left! Let’s go!”

Each of us got to work as I galloped a short distance towards the stairs as fast as possible. Floating up with my weapon trained resulted in no hostiles around the wooden stairs.

“Stairs is clear!” 

Rain and Syringe began to sprint on my shout, getting up top quickly as Olenians ascended up the slope behind us. 

Their masks hid their expressions, but their suspicion of me was not unnoticed.

“VELVET, VELVET!” I screamed at them. A tense second passes before a nod was given in reply, followed by a hoof gesture to signal the rest to move up.

Bratatatata!

Rain’s gun sounding off gave me a start as I quickly turned with my weapon raised. He laid prone above the stairs covering the hallway, and Syringe was watching his back with her weapon on the doorways.

“Got one!” Rain sounded off, as he scrambled up to stack up against a door. 

Syringe and me followed suit respectively, with me watching our rear as I heard each of them reload.

When they were done, I did the same. As I was doing so, I heard hoofstomps from below.

Several Olenians ascended up the stairs, and began to stack up against a different door across from us.

There was a tense moment. I turned around, and Rain had seen them too. 

“... On Three!” He yells in plain Ponish. A nod was given, they were waiting.

Rain counted once again with the feathers of his wings.

One.

Two.

“Three!”

Rain the Olenians bucked the doors open with our back hooves. Rain managed to do it clean in one go, the Olenians were still struggling last I saw them before breaching inside.

The room was littered with damaged and knocked-over desks, chairs, and paintings as the tank blast had almost destroyed everything in here, with the foundation somehow still standing after said tank blasts.

No living Changelings in the room we were in, but I saw corpses of them near the windows followed by shouting further ahead.

One of them turned the corner with their weapon raised, taking a pot shot that missed horribly at us. Rain laid down a barrage from the hip with his gun, prompting the bug to fall back.

Rain then dove down near the bodies, scrambling towards them to pat them down as me and Syringe covered the doorway. 

The bug’s rifle was aiming out, but his body was covered. Burst fire from my SMG at best made him flinch, but it did not deter him. 

A shot rang out, and my heart dropped as he quickly retreated back into cover. I waited for a cry of pain, or help, or… anything from Rain. 

Instead of hearing him, I saw a grenade fly from where he was earlier.

A scream was heard from in the doorway.

Kra-Boom!

Splinters and Shrapnel dart across the room, some flying past my head as I got down as low as I could.

More screaming was heard from within by the Changeling. I looked up to see Rain already standing at the doorway aiming down, firing one bullet.

The screams stopped.

“Clear!”

Syringe and I got a move on, vaulting over desks to stack up next to Rain.

The door to our right led to another gaping hole blown open by the tank, the floors collapsed downward along with their occupants. 

The left door lead to an open room with windows facing eastward. The Changeling on the floor was missing their forehooves, harboring many incisions and deep gashes that showed bone.

“Masks off!” Rain yells, as he swiftly follows his own advice. Sniffing the air once gave me all the information I need to follow his advice; Clean oxygen, excluding the smell of copper and gunpowder.

“Okay, we clear this place—room by room—until we find what the Olenians are looking for first. No fucking around.” Rain planned aloud with both of us. 

“Yeah that sounds good.” I replied quickly, looking away from the gristly sight.

We moved towards the leftmost door, stepping over the deceased bug and clearing the room ahead. We heard more gunfire from below our floor alongside Olenian shouting. 

A doorway leading to a hall going Northward showed an Olenian Squad advancing carefully forward, nodding to us in acknowledgment as they stacked up on several doors and began clearing them. 

Further ahead of them laid a badly damaged room from Rain’s Satchel going off near the ammunition depot, with the walls missing but the floors (barely) standing.

No shots rang out from the Olenians near us, only shouts.

The three of us moved along this hall and Rain quickly got upstairs to the third floor, trying to find the Broadcast room the Olenians were after. 

“You think it might have been destroyed by the blast outside?”

“I hope not.” Rain answered honestly, gun swiveling around carefully as he cleared the empty hall above us.

“We got bugs to our right.” Rain quietly spoke to us.
 
A sort of Battlement-looking Hallway was protruding Westward to our right, going all the way to the other side of the building as many Changeling bodies were now lying under the windows, but there were still some with rifles taking shots down below. 

Rain carefully laid down behind a pillar near a vertice, gun loaded and ready.

“Check your ammo, make these shots count on my go.” Rain quietly orders.

Syringe reloads a few rounds, and I check which magazine I hadn’t touched yet. Only one fresh mag left. I loaded that one in.

“On my go.” 

Each of us took aim, giving one another space. They never noticed us.

Bratatatatatatatatata!

Rain’s weapon sounded off ferociously as red tracers pierced through the chitin of several changelings. Syringe’s rifle sounded off next to me and I squezzed short bursts downward at the ones panicking to retreat. Only one of them managed to get away, but about five to seven of them were cut down.

“Clear!”

“One of them got away!” Me and Rain sounded off at each other.

“Vhich Vay?”

A voice speaking broken Ponish sounded off from an Olenian downstairs. 

“Vich vay did zey go?”

“West! Go! West!” Rain replied back, speaking slowly.

He nods back, speaking his natural tongue back to his comrades as he beckons them to join him.

“Can’t go down that way, too much of a Killzone in case they are on the other side.” Rain warns us as he peeks out again.

Sure enough, a single round snaps past us from the other side at an obscured angle.

“We go around,” Rain orders as he turns back north to the other end of the building. The further he went along, the more damaged the rooms became in lieu of his work.

None of the windows were spare; furniture was overturned; and the walls, floors, and ceilings were riddled with holes of fragmentation as splintered remains were littered everywhere.

But none of them bared any particular importance regarding City-Wide Transmission capabilities; they seemed like blank-slated office rooms. Some of them might have been military-related by the Changelings. If so, some of this information was lost forever due to the blast.

We kept moving, carefully peeking over to see through one of the windows at Rain’s work.

A massive crater, probably about ten pony lengths deep and ten more lengths wide, ruptured the earth in a mighty creation of destruction. The sky had tinted blood red from the sunset overhead.

Neither any of the garden patches or leftover military infrastructure had survived the blast. 

Tattered remains of fences still burning were seen spreading their flames to the grassy patches behind them. 

No Changelings were in sight.

“Sweet mother of mercy.” Syringe muttered to herself as we all kept moving along.

The hall we were in bore no more staircases leading upward, and the rooms were far too damaged to have any significance. And no more Changelings were found here neither.

Until we turned the corner, and found our previous survivor still watching the same hallway we previously gunned down. 

A single shot from Syringe’s rifle to the head dispatched him.

Clearing the rooms of this hallway resulted in nothing, however. We merely found guest bedrooms.

One room, however, stood out. The Master Bedroom.

It had a King-Sized mattress that looked like it was worn down beyond repair, with semi-clean sheets to boot.

But beyond that, there were several makeshift cubicles planned across the room. There was a small safe tucked between a nightstand table and the mattress, looking particularly conspicuous. It had a combination lock, and looked sturdy enough to withstand explosives.

These small cubicles each harbored a typewriter and small desks to store paperwork in, some of which was lying around in the open. Syringe was idly looking at one of these as me and Rain cleared the room.

“Anything interesting?” I asked aloud.

“... If you find daily reports counting ammunition counting going into excruciating detail about the specifics of each gun of each ammo type that is being store here ‘interesting,’ then yes.”

“You coulda just said no.” Rain griped.

“This must have been the head officer’s room, the one in charge of the Garrison of the whole city.”

I looked around at the giant bed that was much too large for a singular creature, even the Princess wouldn’t take up the whole space of this bed.

“Seems opulent for their tastes.”

“You’d be surprised.” Rain mutters. “But there’s nothing here for us, or the Olenians.”

“What about the safe?”

We each took a look at the safe that Syringe mentioned and pulled out, sitting on the floor.

“... We got bigger fish to fry right now. Our Olenian friends still need our help.” Rain dismisses, reloading another magazine in his weapon. “We can come back for it later.”

“Fine,” she acquiesced, “Your lead then.”

Bam!

The three of us had never had our weapons trained on that door as fast as we did at that moment when whoever bucked it opened rudely interrupted our conversation.

And to our surprise, it was a Crimson Coated Mare. Brass Screws, followed by, Dominoes, and Morning Dew.

“... Shit, you guys are here already?” Brass asked in astonishment.

“What the fuck kept you?” Rain asked bitterly.

“... Nevermind. Good to see you.” Brass quietly greets.

“Is this all of us?” Syringe asked aloud as the rest entered the doorway.

Everyone's here, except... “Where’s Pumpkin?” I asked aloud.

“... Dead.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Found him on the roof. Shot in the face.”

I looked at Syringe and Rain, each as perplexed as me.

That was when I noticed Morning without her pack on.

“Where’s your radio?” Rain asked the question for me.

“Got fried by shrapnel by the blast you made. It only slowed me down, so I had to ditch it.”

“... Sorry?”

“Don’t be; at least the Olenians heard my signal before it happened.”

“Okay, focus.” Brass announced, taking command once more. “Rain, did you find anything while—”

“No, nothing about the broadcast station, or about what we are looking for.”

“Dammit!” Brass swears. “We nearly searched this place top to bottom, and haven’t found shit!”

“... Not everything.” Syringe pipes up.

She then points to the safe we found. “This was here when we secured the room. Might have something in there.”

Each of us inspected the safe, closing the door behind us and locking it as we did so. It barely managed to do so, due to Brass’s violent bucking.

It was small, barely about half of a barrel’s size. But it was heavy and thick.

“Wait,” Dominoes then pipes up, inspecting the combination of the safe door.

“... I know how to open this.” He says as he knocks on it a couple of times.

“Yeah, I don’t think satchels are going to spare the contents inside if we try that method.” Rain points out with a slight jest.

“No no no, it's the lock.”

“What about it?” Brass asked.

“It’s the weak link in the structure. I don’t need to guess the combo; I can just cut it open.”

He then shrugs off his saddlebags and fishes out a few things; a Welding Mask, hoof-gloves, and a Blowtorch.

“Stand back, give me some space,” he announces as he gets to work. Pulling the mask down and turning on the torch, a White-hot flame protrudes from the torch in a narrow jetstream. When it made contact with the metal, sparks began to fly and land on the bed. Some of the embers were starting to catch fire in the bed sheets, prompting Rain and Morning to frantically put it out by smothering the flame, folding sheets atop themselves to do so.

“Dominoes—”

“Almost done!” He interrupts Brass as more sparks begin flying.

Just as suddenly as it began, the embers then stopped flying as the safe's door cracked and fell open with a horrid metallic groan. Aside from the poor sheets, the room otherwise survived.

“Done,” he announced as he shut off the torch. 

Gleaming golden metal shines back at us, and stacks of valuables and paperwork are neatly organized. There were golden ingots, bracelets, necklaces, and even teeth stacked inside miniaturized compartments at the bottom half of the safe. 

Rain let out a low whistle.

“That’s worth a loooot of Bits, there.” Rain whistled.

“Hundreds of thousands...” Dominoes idly remarked with some shock in his tone.

Brass was (somewhat) undeterred by the wealth and instead grabbed hold of the paperwork stored inside, stacked neatly inside clean Manilla Folders thick enough to contain a novelette.

“Syringe, you‘re good at reading Changeling. Can you find anything interesting?” Brass asks, handing the folder to the former. She opens it with her wingtips and quickly scans the pages for information. 

“Uh… some of this is redacted. Let's see…”

A tense few seconds passed as some of us took positions, covering the door and the windows outside.

“... Uh, yada yada inadequate personnel, supply issues, low morale… It seems like a list of requests.” She turns the page. “Requests for aid and soldiers to fill in the gaps of the Garrison. Apparently, they don’t trust the Queen’s Guard, hence the Jeager Division being stationed here.”

“Anything that can help us?” Brass eagerly asks.

“Not really. Most of this is redacted, I can’t seem to… wait, hang on.” she suddenly reads slowly, carefully inspecting the lines of the pages. 

“‘Due to… inadequate personnel, the project will have no choice but to suspend delivery of your expected shipment to next week…’ Lemme see…” she flips back to the front page. “That was... three days ago now… they expect that delivery sometime this week. Which means…”

“It’s still here…” Brass finishes the sentence. My heart sped up along those words. “Any indication as to where it is?”

“Uh… some kind of special holding room it says. Classified, though. Not even the commander of the Garrison is in the ‘need-to-know’ loop on this.”

“... What if it's like Vanhoover?” Morning asks aloud. "Could be another underground spot."

“What, does every Palace and Administration Building have its own basement to hide secret documents and weapons in?” Rain asks in jest.

“Actually, yes.” Brass answered. “Most of those buildings have sub-layers included. I haven’t been in one in all my life that doesn’t have a basement.”

“... So we try the Basement then?” Morning suggests.

“Good as shot as any. Where do we find it, though?” Syringe asks.

Nopony had an answer for that.

“Whatever, we will find it on our own. We found the one in Vanhoover on our own; that's how we started this whole shitshow. We can find it.” Rain encouraged us.

“He’s right, we will have to make do.” Brass agrees. “For now, though, we clear the building and wait for—”

Wzzt-Bzzt-SCREEECH!

Electronic feedback from an amplified source was heard from outside. Though muffled, I could hear the loudspeakers in front of the Palace with a deafening blare of tinny but patriotic-sounding music playing for all to hear. The song lasted for about half a minute before a voice replaced it.

“Friends, Family, Soldiers, and Countryfolk of Olenia, lend me your ears! I have come to you with words of fraternity and liberation! For today, I ask you to heed the call of duty and finally rise up against your oppressors!"

Each of us were now standing in the halls, listening out the windows as the speech continued to enrapture our attention.

“For too long has the fair nation of Olenia been oppressed by the yoke of tyranny. First it came from the debauchment of our nobility when our King submitted to the Evil Queen Chrysalis, only for that tyranny to be hence replaced by an even more terrible one.

“First, they took away your country, your place of home! Then they took away your homes, your place of safety! Then they took your Liberty, your sacred birthright! Then they took away your friends, your loved ones, your family! They took away EVERYTHING!”

“But Today? Today, you will show them, and you will show the whole world! That they have not taken away our fighting spirit! They have not taken away our will to resist! They have not taken away our chances of victory! 

“Today, I ask of you to rise up in resistance! Be you at home in your cabin in the country side, take up your family’s rifle and join the fight! Be you in Sakara, Cervus, or Vaverfront, oppressed by our overlords—take to the streets and resist! Be you afraid of death, cast aside your doubts for your finest hour is now!

“Brave soldiers of the resistance, who have been carrying the torch of this fight for as long as they have, I ask of you to show the way of our brothers and sisters! Show them how to fight the good fight, lest we wish to be forever snuffed in darkness!

“I swear to you, brave soldiers of Olenia, for as long as you shall live, for as long as Harmony lives, for as long as the resistance carrys on, we shall not abandon you! We shall be by your side! We shall be together in martial harmony once again!

“For today, Olenia is reborn!

“For today, Olenaia is ready!

“For today, Olenia prevails!”

Rapturous cheering was heard below, and outside the Palace floor, we stood. And I saw Olenians outside throwing their hooves up in celebration as they had won what they had sacrificed so much for.

And like a snap of a finger to bring me out of a dream, I felt my adrenaline wane and my body collapse from exhaustion.

Syringe rushed over to help me up as several other ponies in the squad visibly relaxed.

“Holy shit. They actually found it.” Rain praised, with jubilant, genuine laughter wheezing from his throat. “They fucking did it!”

He wrapped his arms around the nearest pony he could find, which happened to be Dominoes. The latter joined in on the laughter, albeit reluctantly.

“You hurt?” Syringe asked me.

“No, just… tired.” I sighed.

My mind drifted to Pumpkin. To the olenian in the hole. To the crevice of brain matter staring back at me. 

Nausea wracks my stomach, alongside the guilt wrangling it.

“Let’s not go galavanting in celebration just yet,” Brass announces over the cheers, “We still have a bomb to find."





“Hey, I think I found something!”

The search for the basement entrance had spanned for about a half-hour before Rain finally yelled out. We had descended down floor by floor as we encountered nothing but dead and surrendering changelings. All of the POWs were to be transferred to the Bastion by the resistance’s orders.

Dusk had fallen over the city, casting long shadows over the streets as darkness was coming soon. The battle southward with our pony brethren was still ongoing but was starting to die down. I couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad sign.

But eventually, we made our way into the throne room. Corinthian Columns stood tall to the ceiling; ornate molding of Deer Heads with Antlers, the Entablature, the Capital, the Base, and the Pillar itself were all carved with such precision that only a perfectionist would possess.

Or at least, they were. It had long since been repaired or maintained by any skilled enough Artisan to restore it to its former glory. Grime had covered the pillars, the mold of the heads was damaged and vandalized, painted glass windows had shattered a long time ago, and the structure had cracks stretching all the way into the ceiling.

But what helped us wasn’t the throne room itself, but rather the rooms behind it.

Behind the King’s throne—an opulent but ruined piece of work, much like the rest of the throne room—lay an Ogee Arch with a small cylindrical roof vault leading to a series of rooms connected via vaults leading further underground.

The council room was further along the dining room, the kitchen, and several pantries, which were littered with a lot of paperwork, maps, reports, and so on—a treasure trove of information.

“Holy shit, it's a gold mine.” Brass appraises.

“... Huh.” I voiced aloud.

“What?” Syringe asks me quietly.

“Nothing, just… Déjà vu.”

“What the fuck is all of this?” Rain asked with a hint of worry in his tone.

“Looks like an operations room. Wouldn't they try to destroy this?” Dominoes asks.

“No, look, it’s all untouched. Shit’s still here. I got maps, timestamps, and inventory ledgers.” Rain listed off.

I was gazing upon maps of the frontlines stretching from Mead Lake to the coast when I heard a voice shout.

“Holy shit, what is this?” Dominoes asks aloud as Syringe peeks over his shoulder.

“Is that… an engine?” Syringe asks.

“Looks like it… like a giant propeller.”

I made my way over to see the blueprint in question. It looked like a Gondola. Morning Dew got a look at it. I noticed her eyes go wide. 

Before I could ask about it, I heard Rain behind me yell.

“Hey, come look at this!”

Each of us scrambled to see a large topographic map of the West coast of the Continent Equus, stretching from Sakara in Olenia to Stableside in Southern Equestria. 

The cities near the coastlines and mountain ranges were circled with red markers, while most of the Olenian cities were already ‘X’d out.

“Look's like a target map. I got marks on… Vanhoover, Acornage, the Shire, Las Pegasus, Stableside, Tall Tale-”

“They are targeting every major metropolitan area.” Brass mutters darkly. “Alright! I want all of the important shit bagged and tagged. Syringe, I need you to determine which is important and what is going to be left to the Olenians, got it?”

“On it!”

“Everyone else, find every map and blueprint you can find and secure it!”

“I got maps of all the cities right here!” Rain diligently announced as he rolled up some scrolls and folded some documents. 

“Wait, what fuck is this?” He suddenly quips.

“What, you got something good?”

“Something… It's weird. It’s a… it’s some kind of Itinerary.”

“Lemme see!” Syringe yanks it out with haste, quickly skimming the lines as she scans the page.

“Uh… oh shit… it’s a bombing mission scheduled for next week!”

“Is it about the bomb?!” Rain and Brass spoke simultaneously.

“I-I dunno, hold on! It’s…” She scans as fast as she can. “It says… Ai-Ay-Aee... what the fuck is that word?”

“Lemme see!” Brass grabs the paper violently, eyes skimming faster than Syringe's.

“... Ai… Aigion?”

The room goes quiet.

“What the fuck is Aigion?” Brass asks aloud.

“No… Wait! I heard of this before!” Morning backs up, horror etched on her features.

“What is it?”

“Syringe, when and where is that itinerary going?” Morning asks the million-bit question.

Syringe grabs the paper and reads it carefully.

“Uh... five days from now and…” 

Her eyes go wide. 

“... Canterlot.”

Silence.

“... Aigaion’s Next Target is going to Canterlot.”

“What the fuck is Aigion?” Brass asks again.

“We need to go.” Morning urges with haste. “My family is in Canterlot! I-we-we have to—”

“What. Is. Aigion?!” Brass asks again with firm authority.

“It’s an Airship! You heard about the fire-bombing of Las Pegasus, haven't you?”

Each of us nodded.

“The airship was there! It aided in its destruction, and its never alone! It always has an armada of aircraft supporting it! If that same ship that destroyed Las Pegasus gets to Canterlot, I—”

She starts to hyperventilate. “... M-my mom and dad, they-they aren’t safe, they-they-”

My heart was starting to thunder in my chest.

“Morning, deep breaths!” Syringe orders as Morning Dew struggled to calm down.

The rest of us were silent.

“... The bomb is not here.”

“... What?” Rain asks aloud as Brass mutters.

“The bomb was never here in the first place.”

“Then what the fuck have we been searching for!?”

Brass scrambles around the table again, inspecting the Gondola blueprint we had found earlier.

“... This. This was their shipment.”

“But, that's…” Rain stuttered to find reason in this.

“It makes sense… The renovations, the upgrades, the intolerance to failure, all of the reports we’ve read about a secret shipment… This is it.

“Aigion is supposed to be upgraded with these blueprints.”

My heart's thundering crescendoed as it threatened to boil over in panic. “B-but what about the bomb? If not here, then where is it?!" I asked.

“I don’t know!” Brass frustratingly admits. “But this is something we can’t ignore!”

“And the Olenians? How are we going to tell them about this? How are we going to—”

“We will tell the truth.” Brass interjects.

“... What?”

“We will tell them everything. We will tell them why we are here, and what we found instead. And then, we find our way back home to Vanhoover, Blueprint and plans in tow. We must bring this back.”

The air of tension had threatened to suffocate us. But there was a mute, sobering agreement to this reality we were in.

We were in a race against the clock. 

And we had a head start.
> (A4) - Prologue: Sunrise, Parabellum
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 4, Prologue: Sunrise, Parabellum



“Teetering on the edge of control and chaos.”







Present Day


Bon Bon had been quiet.

She intently listened as I described my time in Hjortland. There were particularly painful memories within that I glossed over, feeling a surge of sadness from within as I skimmed the more gruesome details of Hjortland’s Palace. 

Throughout the recollection, she interrupted me only at specific intervals to ask certain questions; ‘Why were there Jaegers in the city, so far away from the fighting of the frontlines?’ ‘Why were thousands more Changelings there than predicted?’

Of course, she expected answers to these questions. Answers that I provided through my testimony. She gave me several chances to explain, and she deduced alongside me that the Changelings were hiding something of importance inside.

Nopony in this room would’ve ever guessed that the Changelings would use foreign cities to help aid in researching top-secret projects of grave importance. 

Indeed, looking back on it in hindsight, the whole day seemed pre-ordained to be FUBAR. But despite this, we were successful in following the paper trail. Thanks in no small part to the Olenian Resistance within the city. 

A pang of sadness welled up inside me.

They helped shelter us from certain death when the time was needed the most. They gave us a plan of action, and tools needed to succeed. 

They gave us medical aid and we gave them information in a fair exchange. And during that exchange, a mutual plan of action was created. 

And in that plan of action, we fought side-by-side to achieve a common goal.

And how did we repay them?

Silence.

Complete indifference to the Olenian plight. It wasn’t until Equestrian tanks rolled down the countryside of Olenia in the final months of the war that the fighting truly ended for the Olenians. And even then the scars would remain for years, if not decades. 

Even then, the grudge held against us would remain.

Even then, the pain of betrayal left a deep scar.

Digressing from that, we eventually got to the point where the fighting ceased in the Palace. Then the search effort began. 

Up until this moment, Bon Bon had carried an aura of stoicism and indifference. She was like a stone wall in her complexion, steadfast and sturdy.

But upon mentioning the basement to her? And from what we found within? Her stoicism gradually dissipated.

“The Bomb was never there,” I eventually finished, “but we did find something else. Something not as destructive perhaps, but just as important.”

“Such as?” Bon Bon pressed with the scribe next to her scribbling furiously.

“There were blueprints. Schematics of an engine that was supposed to be an upgrade from its predecessor. From what we could gather, the engine was for something called ‘The Aigaion.’”

Bon Bon’s brow raised just slightly.

“... Aigaion?” she repeated in curiosity.

“That was the name of the project. From what I remember, they were using Olenian workers to engineer something the Changelings could not accomplish independently.”

“... Magitek Engineering.” Bon Bon spoke to herself, eyes glued to the paperwork in front of her as she scanned the pages. “The Olenians had some of the best magitek engineers in the world, capable of fusing magical crystals with their esoteric properties to power machinery more efficiently than any other fuel source. The Changelings tried to replicate this but had limited success. They lacked one thing the Olenians had in droves.”

I leaned in slightly.

“It should go without saying, but... How do I explain?” Bon Bon mutters. “You are aware of the Magical Leylines of the world, right?” 

I nodded. It was something everypony was taught at an early age.

Equestria, and indeed much of the world, would not have the magic that its people enjoy every day if it weren’t for the Leylines. 

These are sort of ‘Vortexes’ for lack of a better word, where Magic in its most raw form and capacity is fed to the world so that the world can give back freely to its people. As the people relish this privilege, the energy they release from day-to-day menial spells is fed back into the Leylines.

It is in this state of equilibrium that every Unicorn can enjoy utilizing spells, every Pegasus can enjoy weather manipulation with free flight, and every Earth Pony can tune and harness the earth itself.

Myth has it that there are physical locations of these Leylines, but the general understanding of their existence is more treated like how the atmosphere exists. It is a matter of how we live rather than where we live.

Not sure how it works with other creatures, though.

“... Every deer in the world, no matter if they are Olenian or from any other continent, is also in tune with these Leylines.” Bon Bon continued as if she were printing my thoughts. 

“They may not be able to manipulate the environment around them like ponies can, but they can change how they create things.”

I titled my head. “Change... how they create things?” I repeated.

“The Deer, by nature, is a creature of balance. It is capable of creativity and artisanship the likes of which the world has never seen. Artisans create beautiful artifacts, and architects can construct an awe-inspiring Arcopolis. But the other end of that spectrum is destruction.

“It is said by Olenian Seers that ‘Magic turns a warrior into a berserker.’ The Olenians blessed their armor, their weapons, their longships; everything. And I’d wager they still know how to do so with modern-day weaponry. Everything they created for war was made to the best of their ability, enchanted with the finest runes the world had seen.”

There was a brief quiet between us, save for the sound of pen scribbling from the scribe.

“... I doubt the Olenians were willing to be cooperative about working with Changelings, however.” Bon Bon mumbles to herself.

Not every creature has as much ‘love’ in their energy as you ponies do.

Marja’s words repeated in my head.

Sometimes, they don’t need harvesting from Deerfolk.

“So the Olenians were systemically purged, either through slavery or through extermination as you stated.” Bon Bon read off a paper. “... It would explain the mysterious absence of civilian life.”

… And if that’s the case, what do you think happens to them? 

A shiver ran up my spine.

“But that doesn’t help us in the slightest.” She frowns. “It might help explain how they were able to engineer the bomb, but that doesn’t help us discern where it is. All you gave us was-”

“Aigaion, yes,” I interjected. “I probably gave you information that you already know, yes." 

"... What do you mean?"

I paused.

"... The-" I stopped myself. "Okay hold on, timeout, let me ask you this, can I?” I leaned closer, hooves still bound.

"... One question." Bon Bon is permitted.

"Did you guys never know of the Aigaion until just now?"

An uneasy, awkward silence overtakes both Bon Bon and the Scribe next to her.

"Oh sweet fucking Celestia." I groaned. "You mean that- wait, so hold on-"

"I said one question-"

"Oh no no no, I'm getting warmed up now." I spoke with a half smirk, my neurons flashing like lightning as my reflexes gave me another question. 

“When did you assume I would know where a fucking Nuclear Bomb would be when I already clearly stated that I never found it in the entirety of the war?!”

"What are you-"

"No no no, really ask yourself this: do you even have an inkling of an idea of what we are dealing with before you abducted me and Night Light like goons? Because I think you are bullshitting me at this point!" 

The outburst left them without an answer, Bon Bon in particular had an acrid stare that could shatter glass. Even the normally emotionless scribe sitting next to her seemed uncomfortable being next to her.

She stared evenly a stone-walled face of resolve staring back at her, my teeth gritted with my frown.

“You claim that I am going to help you find it, and we have been at this for hours! Hours, and still we haven’t gotten close to the outcome you wanted! I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about this damn thing!

"When I first got here, I was told by you that I saw something 'BIG!' And yet you mean to tell me that you never knew about either of these supposed superweapons existence until just now?! For both the Nuke and the Aigaion?"

"That's the fucking point! We need to-" Bon Bon shouted back.

"YOU KNOW JUST AS MUCH AS I DO!" I screamed back. 

The Scribe had long since stopped scribbling, trudging cautiously away from the table instead as Bon Bon remained still.

“Why the fuck are you still questioning me if that is the case?! Don’t you think that I would’ve told you by now where it was if I saw it?! Why is the weight of the world thrust onto MY SHOULDERS?!" 

My screams, finally, made her eyes blink a couple of times, causing her brow to furrow over them.

“... Why?! Why do I and Night Light have to suffer through this?!” I asked. 

That same question again. The more I asked it, the more impossible it sounded.

It felt like I had been trapped in here for an eternity, and yet it was only a few hours. 

“WHY?! Do you have a fucking answer for that?!”

More silence. My throat was starting to rip at the seams from all the screaming. I had run out of things to say anyway.

Bon Bon seemed to be at a loss for words as well. Her eyes were unusually glassy for a split second until she gave a hard blink. Tears? Rage? I couldn’t tell. Maybe both.

“I'm sorry.”

“... Pardon?” 

“... What?” Me and the scribe asked simultaneously, dumbfounded at both her tone and choice of words.

“... We’re done for today. You are right.”

Now it was my turn to give a hard blink.

“I am… I am realizing how... fucked up this all is. How dumb and opaque this all is turning out to be."

She takes a deep breath "Look, I will be honest and transparent with you. Right now, you are right. We don’t know jack shit. And we thought you would help us, but this isn’t working. But you are the best bet we got, Sunshine.”

"Why? You never answered my question."

"Because all of your squadmates are dead, Sunshine."

The way she announced that, it was as if she was regretting it in real-time. A small, but noticeable hitch in her tone made me sense that something within her changed.

She didn't want to say this. But now she has to.

"What?" I inevitably asked. 

"All of your squadmates that were with you since Vanhoover? The ones you fought with all throughout Equus since then? They are gone! ALL of them."

There was a noticeable hitch in my throat now, too.

"... That is-"

"Not possible?" she interjects, pulling out a single piece of paper from the manilla folder. "Brass Screws; Killed in Action in Vraks. Rain Drop; Missing in Action in Olenia, has not made any public appearances since, pronounced dead. Morning Dew; Missing in Action in Olenia, body was later found washed up on the Elk Shoreline, pronounced dead. Pumpkin Patch; Killed in Action in Hjortland." She drops the paper. "I could go on, but see for yourself. Surely you remember some of these."

The paper stretched before me. The names of everypony I served alongside with. For years, they were the closest thing to friends I had. each of their names are written in black ink, with their fates written in Red.

Killed or missing. Gone either way.

I was even more confused, but a silver bullet of realization pierced through all of the fog. 

"... I'm the only one left?" I look up to Bon Bon.

She nods. My eyes are suddenly wet with tears as my chest threatens to convulse with a choked sob.

Composure forbade it, though. I blinked the tears back inside and took a deep breath. 

"My condolences for your loss." Bon Bon spoke with sudden reverence, head bowed and eyes closed for a few seconds.

The Scribe, wordlessly, followed suit.

"As I said, I am sorry. You are the only one left. I should have told you in advance, but... I don't really know why I didn't."

"So... what does this mean, then?" I was afraid to ask.

“It means you are done for today. We will send you home with your partner.”

“... You’re letting us go home?” I asked, daring myself to be hopeful.

“For tonight, yes. I-” She cuts herself off, “We need to rest and get our heads right if we wish to continue this. As well as your companion.”

“... So,” I asked, somehow feeling myself even more irate than before, because…

“You are willing to let us go now, while a Nuclear Bomb is running amok somewhere out there, after all that time wasted? And you’re somehow okay with that?”

“No,” she answers swiftly, “I am not okay with it. But there is a thing called the Equestrian Law. I’m morally obligated to follow it. So far I failed.” She sighs bitterly. “As much as it may help us, we cannot force you to stay here against your will without a right for an attorney or without plausible evidence.”

More silence. The Scribe had long ceased to record everything going on, instead listening intently. Bon Bon contemplated deeply for a few short moments before taking a deep, reassuring breath.

“... We will put you under House Arrest. That way we can still make sure you can show up back here again. Tomorrow, we will resume with a different approach in mind.”

“Tomorr- You mean I have to come back?” I asked with indignance.

“It’s tricky…” She scratched her head. For a moment, there was a small glimmer of… something, in her eyes. 

Regret? Guilt? Doubt in herself?

“You are under arrest so to speak. But while it is called House Arrest, we will not deprive you of your liberties. We only wish to question you.”

I tilted my head back in confusion.

“You will not be able to leave the premises until we say you can, and we can lift the arrest once everything is concluded.”

“… No catch?” I asked cautiously.

“Only the one where you have to show up again tomorrow when we visit your home in the afternoon.” She states atonally. “We will inform your partner the same thing. Both of you will return home.”

That sounds too good to be true. 

“Something tells me that it isn’t going to be that simple and easy for me.”

“It is.” Bon Bon retorted quickly. “As I said, the only catch here is that you and Night Light come back tomorrow after we both put our heads in the right places. Then we can get to work and, hopefully, end this madness once and for all.”

It was tempting. 

It was so very tempting to just concede to the offer. And truthfully, there wasn’t any other incentive for me to stay or continue at all. Everything that Bon Bon said, while maybe a lie, had an air of truth to it.

I would go home and rest for the day, but the consequences of so would mean that we were binding ourselves to this age-long goose chase until it was over. There really wasn’t anything wrong with the idea.

So why do I feel so… guilty? For accepting this?

Maybe it’s the fact that we are letting a nuclear bomb off the hook for who knows how long, and for goddesses know what else. Maybe it's the fact that after everything we went through, I feel a moral obligation to not rest.

I cannot see me staying here any longer, however. I just don’t. I am physically exhausted, emotionally drained, and mentally fatigued. Each Synapse in my brain is flickering me incoherent images and thoughts.

Only one of those thoughts was lucid enough for me to retain it.

Night Light.

“... Okay fine. Fair enough.” I relented. “I’ll wait for you tomorrow.”

“Good,” she simply says, picking up the loose pieces of paperwork and photographs to stuff back into the Manilla folder before turning to her Scribe. 

“Let the jockeys know that we are letting them go home and that they should relay the order to Grim Hooves.”

“Yes Ma’am!” the Scribe diligently affirmed, opening the door to pass the message on to the two guards holding the door. They gave a brisk nod as one of them departed. The Scribe followed suit, leaving Bon Bon and one more guard behind to watch me.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“When they are ready, we will escort you back to your chariots.” the last guard spoke atonally as he trotted behind me to loosen up my bindings. Finally, my joints and muscles creak and pop in a relieving pain. A sigh escaped my lips as I felt my body finally relax.

“I’m uh… sorry.” the guard suddenly apologizes in a low tone.

“I-it’s fine. Thank you.” I answered, admittedly not expecting a reprieve from my episode earlier.

You’re free.

The thought had passed by my frontal cortex and left just as quickly as it arrived.

… But will it last?





The ride back to our home was awkward and draining.

Me and Night Light enjoyed a brief embrace from one another after reuniting. I waited for her outside the building and soon made our way to the chariot assigned to us. Escorted by the agents from S.M.I.L.E. all the while. Soon, we found ourselves wrapping wings around one another as we trotted and flew our way back home.

She looked fine enough but was concerned immediately with the bruises on my face. Anger flared for a second until she realized nothing could be done. A quick lie of me ‘spitting in the agent’s face’ deterred her from inquiring further, though she was not happy about me.

Not that she had a good reason to begin with. Except maybe for us being together.

I didn’t know what else to say or do besides wait patiently for us to go home. The sky was painted pink as Celestia’s sun was slowly setting across the west. Soft mountains and hills threatened to block her light any minute now. Soon, the night chill would set in. And ponies would retreat inside.

I shuddered as a cold gust pierced through my coat. It felt like the chills were here already. Then again, we were rather high up. I looked down and saw some small hamlets and villas emitting soft smoke from their chimneys, billowing away from a cozy fireplace.

My mind travels. It pictures a scene of a filly cuddling in a blanket, close to the fire as she sips on a cup of Hot Cocoa. The father is asleep on the couch in a nap, and the mother is busy tidying up the house. It feels cozy, it feels peaceful.

It’s everything I wish I was feeling right now.

I found myself staring at the picturesque scene in my mind’s eye for a while, until I noticed Celestia’s sun dip below the horizon. The chills seemed to worsen almost immediately. Shudders turn to shivers.

I looked back at Night Light, who was doing the same thing. Looking out to the shadow of the planet that threatened to smother the land in its darkness. It creased high up into the aethers until the stars themselves seemed to sew themselves into the tapestry of night. 

Seamlessly. If the sky were trees, this is what cross-sections would look like.

Luna’s Moon rose gracefully from the east behind a pillaring mountain, its looming face now glowing in a palish moonlight. The lights from windows of small huts and cabins flicker on sequentially, like the stars that formed from the cosmic dust above without a trace of a presence to linger on. Almost as if they were ethereal.

Almost as if they were figments of my imagination.

Figments. Lights. Memories.

Memories of the past.

They flicker on and off, like stars in the night. And each of them carries a pain that I wished were snuffed out.

Starving ponies.

Bashed skulls. 

Faces of shock and sorrow.

Betrayal.

Loss.

Atrocity.

My eyes drift down to Night Light. She looks back at me with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I don’t know.

“I’m fine.” I answered quickly. It wasn’t a lie.

But you know she doesn’t believe it to be the truth.

Yes, thank you brain. The eyes affirm that mental suspicion. They looked tired. And disappointed.

She was always good at reading my lies.

“We’re five minutes out!” The flyer guiding our chariot called out. Night Light nods.

A soft kiss on my forehead made me hard blink.

“... You know you can tell me anything, right?”

… Fuck.

I fucked this up badly, didn’t I?

You sure did Sunshine.

Shut up brain.

“I promise I won’t judge or get mad, or anything.”

Now who’s lying?

Both of us?

I said shut up.

She looked on, expecting me to answer. 

Shit.

Try talking about the ponies who kidnapped you.

Yeah. It’s clearly their fault. It would provide closure for both of you.

And you can get right back to forgetting.

… What part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?!

Relax. We will go away soon. Don’t listen to the other one though. 

The fuck? Why?

You give… Radical. Ideas.

Fair.

Look, only a few seconds has passed. She can wait patiently. Just talk about the agents. Find common ground first.

“... I don’t like them,” I muttered to myself. 

Mostly in reference to my brain rather than the ponies. But Night Light seemed to have interpreted the latter.

I rolled with it.

“Something about those ponies when they were interrogating me made me feel… uneasy. Like I was being played like a puppet for them, or… something like that.”

Not convincing.

It was your idea.

Fair.

“I don’t like it either,” Night Light acquiesces. But her head was looking off into the distance as she answered that.

Then there was another glimmer. A spark of another emotion in her eyes.

Like a lighthouse at sea. It shines a light into the depths of her eyes, revealing the contents beneath their murky and mysterious depths.

And beneath the bags under her eyes, the small movements of her irises, there was another sensation there.

Pain.

A deep-seated pain carried over for years, to abyssal depths unfathomed.

“Did they hurt you?” the words flow out of my mouth without a neural command. Instinct ebbed and flowed into my cadence.

And she recognized my recognition. Mostly out of shock.

“No, not physically.” She answers truthfully. No evidence of bruises or welts indicated otherwise. “Did they really restrain you during your session?” she asked carefully.

A cold sore rests gingerly upon my cheek as it hurts to twiddle the gums of my cheeks or to flex my mouth muscles. But it wasn’t too bad otherwise.

“Yeah, a little bit. I had another panic attack.”

Liar.

“Except this time, I was more… violent.”

The last word made my throat crack a little.

She can see through you too.

Thankfully though, she didn’t press the subject further. It was a silent trip for the last few minutes after that. It wasn’t until we arrived at our home and departed from the chariot that the flyer reminded us of what awaited for tomorrow.

“Yes yes, we get it, we’ll be waiting.” 

The words once again flowed without any command for them to.

I need sleep. Badly. 

The chariot took off and sped away towards Canterlot once more. Me and Night Light then turned our attention towards our humble abode and retreated inside.

It was warm. It was still in the air around us. It was home.

And yet.

You should not be here.

You should be dead.

I looked towards Night Light trotting towards the windows, getting one last peek at Celestia’s sun as it was setting down further. 

I then heard the faucet of the sink run a little as I began to slowly trot upstairs. The voices grew louder still.

You know now why you chose to forget. You know you don’t deserve her.

Despite all you sacrificed. Despite all you lost, you still have her.

Despite your FAILURES, you still exist.

Lucky you.

I turned away, tears pricking the bottom ducts of my eyes and spilling onto my cheeks as I ascended the stairs monotonously. The steps were heavy and hollow, devoid of devotion to composure or form. And still, they were carrying me up the steps one hoof at a time.

“Sunshine?” Night Light called back to me.

The tears streamed freely now. 

My eyesight was blurry and my vision swam. I found the door to my room off of tactile feel alone, and quickly paced to the bed as my composure finally collapsed.

Sobs.

Cries.

Screams.

Let it out. Don’t bottle it up.

The pain of the past was channeled into a roar, my voice screaming into a cloud pillow as it muffled the sound. 

Just as quickly as they haunt me, they soon pass. 

This too shall pass.

The screams morph into sobs. The pillow and my cheeks are wet with tears now as the clouds around me begin to darken somewhat.

A weight presses against my back as my face is buried in the sheets.

It is soft and warm. Like a heavy quilt as feathery wings and slender hooves surround and cradle my being.

Night Light gently lays on her side as she spoons me from behind, cautiously so as to not startle me.

The tears continued from there, and they wouldn’t stop. Any previous thoughts she had are discarded as a priority for me.

There is no judgment in her presence. No hint of curiosity to rub salt in the wound.

There was no hint of authority. 

There was only a forlorn affection. A need for comfort.

A desire to provide closure.

And I relished it. I saw the tint of clouds lighten up barely as I stayed motionless for a little while.

I found the courage in me to look up at her.

Her jade irises stare back in patience that I wish I had.

I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to see the bloated, runny mess of my face right now. It was too much for me at the moment.

But she didn’t mind. She only had love to give.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, as gentle as a caring mother soothing her crying child.

I still don’t know.

Her hoof cups my chin, forcing me to look up at her. And, again, her beautiful emerald eyes reflect integrity and care back into me.

This time I couldn’t look away.

“Feel better?”

No.

“Yeah, a little.”

Liar.

“Sorry. I haven’t had a breakdown like that in a while.”

She gives a small smile only I would see.

“It’s okay. I understand.” She gently reaffirms me. Her hoof stops supporting my chin to cradle my head and give another soft kiss. I buried her face into her mane, carefully to not ruin it with my face.

“Do you want to talk about it.”

No.

“Just…” I started, contemplating a little. “... Just don’t leave me again. Please. Don’t leave me again.”

Coward.

The desperation of my voice choked out of my throat as it tightened to the diameter of a straw. More tears threatened to flood the waterworks again as I held back choked sobs.

Night Light started gently stroking my mane, back and forth. 

Sleep takes me soon after I hear her words.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

Coward.





“Make it two please?” 

“Twenty Bits.” The Earth Pony clerk replies in a coarse tone.

I fish the money out of my saddlebags and count the individual coins out. Twenty Bits slide in a disheveled pile atop the counter.

“Fine then,” he replies again, turning around to reveal his cutie mark. A watering can, pouring moisture atop freshly plowed soil.

Two paper bags of healthy Carrots plopped atop the counter after the clerk counted the bits and finalized the purchase. 

“Thank you.” I gracefully exited, stuffing the Carrots into my Saddlebag.

“See you Sunshine,” he bids goodbye, “have a good day.” There was no smile on his features when he said that.

Taking off now freshly loaded in the saddlebags with various vegetables, I turned around to see the Market Square of Ponyville one last time before returning to Cloudsdale. It was as busy as it ever could be, but more so than I could remember. Ponies and Griffons alike were walking across the paved dirt roundabout that the stalls circled around, surrounding a statue of a pony holding the Equestrian Flag in the center of it all.

It seemed bustling enough. Many of the ponies I grew up with from my days of youth had either moved on or passed away. But there were some stubborn old few, like the clerk. He knew my father growing up, and took a liking to me from an early age. He is perhaps the oldest soul from old Ponyville who is still living in the town today.

Ponyville looked more or less the same growing up. It never seemed to change, and yet was also always changing at the same time. It seemed paradoxical, but here it was. Living proof otherwise.

Living proof that Equestria not only survived The Great War but thrived after it. 

I looked at my watch and it read 11:18. Looking up at the sky, the sun was setting rather low on the horizon. Maybe Celestia was particularly lazy today?

I shrugged. Didn’t matter. I had to go home anyway. 

… Except. 

There was one more place I needed to go while I was here. I wanted to see if it survived.

I flew down towards the old part of town where the old Golden Oak Library used to be, now replaced with a memorial of the tree and to those who died during the Great War.

The monument itself wasn’t what I wanted to see, but rather something nearby. An old, unassuming shop that I remembered from my days as a filly.

I glided down towards the street to better read the signs inside and… sure enough… it was still there.

My old home. It was the one place I spent most of my time growing up in Ponyville.

It still stands. The old woodchip pile that supports flowers still stands, supporting a collection of Daisies, Daffodils, and Dahlia. The wooden windowsills are stained with memories, remembrance in suspended animation. Like dreams frozen in time.

The exterior paper and wooden walls hadn’t yet been replaced by the more utilitarian architecture that is booming across Equestria, looking like something akin to a museum piece rather than an actual home.

And the front door was open.

I dared myself to peek inside. It was way darker than I initially suspected it to be. There didn’t seem to be anypony inside.

Not wanting to come off as an intruder, I called out, “Hello?” 

No response. Taking a step inside the house, a curious premonition overtakes me.

It’s Quiet.

No… No, not Quiet. Silent.

Wind billowing past my mane ruffling grass and leaves, birds cooing songs, bugs chirping in broad daylight, ponies idly chattering.

Gone.

It’s as if I had entered a vacuum of spatial awareness.

I looked outside to where I came in. I had only taken one step, and yet it felt like I was miles underground. Or underwater.

Trapped.

Unease creeps up in me. 

The hunch of something being wrong is overwhelming me.

I suddenly feel like I am about to suffocate.

“Are you okay Sunshine?”

Night Light’s voice called me from upstairs as I lost my thoughts. The dirty dishes in my hooves didn’t get any cleaner as I allowed myself to daydream again.

“Sorry, yeah. I’m okay.”

“You sound like you are taking a while. You’re normally quick.”

“I’ll be done soon,” I answered back, looking back out through the window over our sink.

Night time had descended as Luna’s Moon gracefully rose over the distant mountains and illuminated the land in the moonlight once more. Houses twinkle to life as the indoors lights switch on one after another.

I turned my attention back towards the dirty dishes, scraping off tonight’s dinner of…

… What did I eat again?

“Hey, Sunshine.” Night Light’s voice calls me again, this time much closer and less vocal. “I was thinking something.” she idly remarks as she fixes a towel over her Mane to dry it.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

“... A date?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember when was the last time we went on a date?”

“Uh…” I started counting feathers. “... six and a half years?”

“I can’t even remember. I’m surprised you did.” she admits with a smile. “But thats my point. It’s been since the beginning of the war that we did something together, and I wanna do something together for once.”

“I mean…” I hesitated. “Tonight?”

“Well, no, too late for tonight. But sometime soon I hope. What do you think?”

I gave it thought, inserting the last dish in the rain-operated dishwasher. You know, come think of it, I don’t even remember the last time I went on a date with Night Light.

… But… didn’t I just say… six and a half years ago?

What did I do six and a half years ago? Why can’t I remember?

I shook the thought off. 

“You know what? That sounds awesome!” I answered with a smile and a kiss on her cheek.

A small whinny of joy was heard, though she tried her best to conceal it.

“Thank you. I… I guess I have to start looking around on what we should do, huh?”

Didn’t you have something important to do?

… Huh. Yeah, I did. But…

“Table for two?” The receptionist asks politely.

“Yes please,” I answered confidently, my wing wrapped around Night Light all the while. She groomed her mane and tail especially well for this night, as well as I. Both of us smelled of Lavender and Honey.

A waitress guides us to an empty table on a dimly lit patio outside with two chairs facing each other The table hosts a lit candle in the center. Ponies around us are well-dressed and well-groomed for this place. The crickets chirp endlessly outside the patio walls.

I pulled the chair for Night Light as we both gingerly sat down, her first then me.

“Mm, free bread rolls.” She admires with a lack of satiety in her voice.

“I think I am going for the Potato Roast.” I idly remarked as I read the menu. “I remember going here once a long time ago, and the Potato Roast was the best thing they had for me.”

“Did you happen to be a small filly with an undeveloped palate of taste, perhaps?” Night Light smirked.

“Hey, you try building a restaurant that caters to Herbivores. Us ponies gotta be creative.”

A giggle escapes her lips. “Fair, I suppose. Although, some of these choices are… quite unimaginative.”

“... ‘Boiled Brussel Sprouts with Butter.’ Heh. Yeah, I see what you mean.”

The candle flame flickers a little as the wind picks up from a lonely gale passing through the Patio. It threatened to go out as the flames danced wildly.

Instinctively, I raised a hoof to block it from the cold wind. The makeshift windshield stabilized the flames until the gust passed along. 

I was about to lower my hooves to the table.

That was until I noticed something peculiar.

The flames are not warm.

In fact, hovering my hooves over the candle yields no warmth. Hovering the hoof closer to the flames yields no different results.

It’s as if the warmth vanished. But why is the flame there then?

“Sunshine, your food is getting cold.” Night Light interrupts my stupor, pointing me towards steaming neatly cut squares of roasted potatoes on a wide platter. With a side of Broccoli and Cheese.

“... I don’t remember the food getting here.” I spoke aloud.

Strange enough, Night Light didn’t seem to hear me. Or was maybe too focused on her food.

Hovering my hooves over the food I can feel the heat of the steam cut into my flesh beneath my coat. More so than usual, enough to make me wince.

“... Too hot?” Night Light asks innocently.

A chilly shiver plagues my body, goosebumps tingling my skin as that same chilly premonition of something wrong returns from the marketplace. Earlier today-

Wait, was it still today?

“Wh… What day is it?” I asked out of nowhere.

“Wednesday. The 14th.”

“... What month?”

Night Light’s eyes glance up at me with a raised brow.

“Um… are you okay?”

“Just answer, I-I suddenly forgot,” I asked again, “I don’t know why.”

“Uh… it’s October. Almost Nightmare Night.” 

Another cold gust of wind billows past me, reaffirming Night Light’s answer that it was indeed nearing the eve of winter.

But…

“Why was it warm when I was in Ponyville?”

Again, my question seems to have fallen on deaf ears. 

Several warning lights were buzzing off in my head at once to ignore this sensation steadily creeping up on me.

And like a train, the thought slams me.

“... Are you real?”

“... What?” Night Light looks genuinely confused.

The wind howls again, this time more violent and colder than before. It felt like icy daggers were puncturing me, over and over as it pierced my coat effortlessly.

Night Light was unfazed.

The food was still warm.

The candle was still lit.

“... Is this a dream?”

The flames of the candle immediately go out.

As well as all the lights.

The shape of the Patio deck, of the idle bystanders who were minding their own business before, of the tranquil evening that they were inhabiting, and the shape of Night Light, are all smothered by an incomprehensible shroud. 

The sounds of the world washed away as I felt like I was suddenly drowning. 

Then the lack of air in my lungs affirmed me I was suffocating.

I thrashed about feeling solid chairs and tables painfully tumble into me over and over as I felt the tactile presence of the patio before, only to find a primordial blackness before me that curtains reality.

Panic seeps into my psyche, I look around for a way out but I am drowning.

And like a beacon in the sea, I see a shape making itself out before me.

The shape of a metal bulkhead door, with a small bulletproof glass window to peer through.

The air returned to my panicking lungs as I breathed in deeply to catch my breath and inspect the path before me.

Surrounding this bulkhead was a maze of Steel and Ironcast pipes of steam and diesel, interweaving and intersecting one another like a grid of streets leading to one final destination. All leading towards the door.

I turned behind me away from the door, to see nothing but that same Primordial darkness again.

“... Night Light?” I called out. 

No answer. 

“Anypony?!”

No answer.

My eyes drift back towards the door, calling me. Beckoning me to peer through its tiny glass window and see what lies within. 

“Okay…” I mumble, trotting towards the door with dread. A green glow is emitting from beyond the thick glass.

Dust covered the window, prompting me to wipe it off with a free hoof. The green glow from within grows brighter as I press my face against the door.

A swirling ball of venomous-looking miasma, festering and growing like an infected blemish, crackles with malevolent energy from the epicenter, like a dark spell going horribly wrong. Photonic particles dance around the alien-looking object at rigorous and unbridled speed. Most of these particles fizz out and die after barely half a second, others feed back into the growing orb and channel its energy outward.

Growing.

Expanding.

Consuming.

“... What the fuck…” I whisper

Beneath the energy orb of world-ending proportions, a tiny equine figure stands beneath it, staring up into it with awe. This orb was gargantuan in comparison to the figure standing beneath it, almost like it was a god compared to this peon of a mortal.

There was something about this figure… something about him that made him feel distant, yet… innately familiar.

I looked down at the bulkhead and grabbed hold with my hooves. Twisting with all my strength, I still struggled to get it open as the wheel refused to budge easily. A few groans of resistance came from the door, and soon the weight finally collapsed downward to loosen the lock I swung the door open and…

“... Manehattan?”

Stretching before me in a kaleidoscope of lights and colors lies the legendary skyline of the metropolis of Manehattan. Unfamiliar, bending, morphing. The skyscrapers dominating the sightline stretch and melt into one another.

There were a few buildings I recognized. The Tenpony Tower stretches all the way up as the tallest skyscraper. The jade-painted Statue of Liberty is off to the coast. And Mane Street with its famous perpendicular design of intersections.

There was an inexplicable heat surrounding the area of the city. It felt like it stretched onward toward every conceivable direction. Sweat was accumulating in all of the crevices of my body.

Then there was the sense of rushing wind.

Then a blinding light.

Until all of my skin disintegrates into sundered ashes behind a voiceless scream.
> (A4) - Chapter 1: Failure
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 4, Chapter 1: Failure



“You draw close to the truth and recoil from it. Let us hope that you have enough strength to endure your existence.”






I awoke in a sweaty, clammy start.

My muscles were shaking from the sudden warp back to corporeal reality, my synapses still fried from the recent memories of the visionary dream I awakened from. My sheets were damp from the sweat. My heart thundered in my chest. 

I sat up slowly, taking a few deep breaths relieved the shaking in my muscles only by a little. I felt my heart slow down pace by pace as the seconds passed. I pat myself around to feel for the sense of touch, unsure if I was still dreaming. Slowly, the mind came to the realization that this was reality. A relieved sigh escapes me.

Carefully, I twisted my body over to gaze upon the other side of the cloud bed. Empty sheets wrinkled and draped over to the side alongside a vacant pillow was what I saw.

Night Light wasn’t here.

My heart began to thunder, but I knew better than to panic immediately. It could mean many things, but overthinking it won’t help. Gazing around the bedroom yielded no results. A window off to my right revealed the night sky’s constellations. Moonlight fed through the glass in a focused beam onto the floor.

She wasn’t in the room. 

Flipping the sheets off of me and stretching my limbs, I proceeded downstairs to see the kitchen lights casting shadows from our furniture below. There was no sound apart from the faint ambiance of wind outside. I read the clock mounted on the wall next to our staircase. Two-thirty in the morning.

Carefully trotting down the stairs with ginger steps reveals Night Light sitting in a chair in the Kitchen. The smell of chocolate and cane sugar pervades the air around me as she spots me descending downstairs.

There was a brief, awkward silence as we made eye contact. I then spot where the smell was coming from. In her hooves was a painted mug in vivid colorful patterns. The beverage was still steaming from within her grasp. 

She gives a shadow of a smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

I blinked. Not sure what else to say.

She didn’t mind, it seemed. Her attention focused back on the mug. She blew on it several times before taking a long, slow sip. When she swallows, she gives a relinquished sigh of relief. 

I trotted downstairs, turning towards her to take a seat. She and I sat next to one another, side to side along a table meant for more than two.

“I uh, used up the last of the Cocoa powder.” She gave a small wince as she glanced at me. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I don’t—I’m not here for that.”

She twists her head at me with a raised brow.

“I had a… well, not a nightmare, but more like a strange dream with a bad ending. Woke me up.” 

Her smile creases closer together, but the structure remains. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was just looking for you,” I answered, “saw the bed was empty.”

“Like I said, couldn’t sleep.” She takes another careful sip from her mug, drawing another sigh from her lips. “I’m trying to… I guess ‘prepare’ for tomorrow.”

“At least one of us is.”

She nods. Her eyes quickly lock onto mine in a flash. For a split second, she seemed primed to say something; something of importance that had been weighing on her mind for quite some time now.

Just as quickly as she made eye contact, she glanced back down to her steaming cup with indifference. Trying to hide the curiosity just beneath her lens.

I raised a brow. “Something wrong?” I asked innocuously. 

“No, nothing’s wrong.” She quips from muscle memory. Her stance fidgets a little as cups the mug once more, blowing on it before taking another sip.

She spoke it with conviction enough, but I knew a lie when I saw one.

Well, she wasn’t lying per se. But she isn’t telling the truth either.

“Okay,” I answered atonally, pretending to be satisfied with the answer. 

“... Okay?” she quickly asks.

There we go.

“You think this is okay?!” Her tone borders indignation.

“I never said that. I just said ‘Okay.’ But you clearly have something going on that isn’t okay.”

Her lips were puckered shut, almost in embarrassment for being caught like a fish out of water.

“... Touché.” She sighs. “You got me.” 

A small hint of pride wells up in me at cracking her defenses. I gave a small smile to comfort her.

“You can tell me anything. What’s bothering you?” I placed a hoof on hers for reassurance.

She looks down at my hoof and gently kisses it.

“I know,” she mumbles, still tired from the lack of sleep. “It’s… It’s just hard to think about it all.”

I nodded solemnly, content with not saying anything. I waited for Night Light to proceed first.

“I’m just… worried about you more than anything. About what they are going to do to you.”

The bruise on my cheek from Bon Bon was still fresh enough to notice as I idly poked it with a hoof.

“Yeah,” I answered in a dry hum, “I don’t plan on getting punched again this time around.”

“... So that means no spitting in their faces?”

Oh right. I forgot I told that lie. I sighed.

“Actually, I’ll be straight with you. I never spat in their faces.”

She raised a brow. “... So they just… hit you for no reason then?”

“There was a reason, just not a good one. I was… being uncooperative.” I finished lamely, not sure what else to say.

A groan with a facehoof was heard from across the table.

“Sunshine,” she speaks as if she had this conversation thousands of times before, “you and I both know that is not the whole story.”

“Okay fine, I flung a bunch of insults at them after being cooped up inside the same room for hours on end. I was tired, I was hungry, and I missed you. I wanted to go home and I lashed out.” I pouted, feeling a wave of shame course through me as I burrowed my head between my hooves. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Should you be proud of it?” Night Light asked.

“Well, no, but it did feel good to vent it out at the moment… right up until they swung at me.”

Another sip. The mug had lost most of the steam by now. 

“My point still stands.”

“... Worrying about me won’t do you any good.”

“And I am just supposed to not worry then?”

I paused. There really wasn’t a good answer to this predicament.

“I am worried about you too,” I amended, “but spending all of our time focusing on one another is less time spent on helping them with… whatever they want with us.”

“Oh, now you want to be cooperative? You weren’t like this yesterday.” 

“Yeah, well, that was before I had the traumas of my past thrown into my face as I take a trip down memory lane. When they came to our home to take us away like we were kidnapped.” I reply with a trace of bitterness in my tone. “It’s not like I asked for it. But I don’t see any other way out. I feel like they are just as stuck with us as much as we are stuck with them.”

“... How do you mean by that?”

“When they told me I could help them,” I began as I sat up straight, “I asked ‘Why me?’ Why am I the one that is being held here when there were others I served alongside with?”

Night Light nods, enraptured by the question herself. 

If only the answer wasn’t so depressing. 

“Turns out… I am the only one left of my old squad. The Sole Survivor.”

Her eyes widened like saucers, and for a moment she was content with sitting still and gazing at me with horrific realization.

“That is why they need me. I have nopony else in my squad who is alive to tell the tale themselves.”

“Oh, sweet Celestia,” she mutters with a hoof over her mouth. A few seconds pass. Her brow furrows in thought.

“Wait… The tale of what exactly?”

I paused.

I didn’t mean for that last part to slip out, only to paint a picture as to the why of it all. But now, Night Light had a burning need, a desire to ask questions about the situation. And I knew better than to just outright lie to her about such things.

But that meant telling her the truth, if not the whole truth, about who I was. About what I was doing.

… Shit.

It was the last thing I wanted to do on this goddess-forsaken planet. And to the last pony that I wanted to tell it to. I was fully content to let the memories of the war die with me. But now the luxury is gone. Replaced with the menial yet monumental task of revelation.

A few seconds had passed since I channeled this inner soliloquy, and she still waited for me to explain further. There was no weaseling out of this one. 

“Um… I…” I couldn’t even get the words out of my mouth.

“Sunshine?” she simply asks.

“I don’t…” I paused again. Half-baked thoughts swirl around in vivid mental images.

I shook my head violently to suppress the images.

“Sunshine are you okay?”

It’s no use. No matter how hard I try, the thoughts are now formulating mass. 

They dance around long enough for the mind to fixate on a few at a time.

Memories of bones being snapped into place again from Vanhoover, nearly dying to a Panzer.

Memories of a pulpous, fleshy crevice that used to be a skull, pulverized beyond recognition.

Memories of betrayal as I stole the last breath of life from soldiers choking on gas.

Memories of Tatarus on Earth.

Warmth suddenly encompasses my being. My sight returns to me as I blink the tragic memories away. Night Light had abandoned her chair and drink in exchange for embracing me, long slender hooves wrapping around me in a protective hold.

I took several deep breaths, trying to control my breathing and my thoughts. The scent of feminine sweat, lavender, and chocolate invaded my nostrils, grounding me in the reality I was in. No scent of sulfur, gunpowder, or blood remained.

Night Light didn’t say a word. She was content with embracing me. A few tears threatened to spill over. I blinked hard several times to drown them back down the ducts.

A few slipped through the cracks, sliding down cheeks, but no sob came. A wet sniffle from my nose revealed my lack of composure to the world. 

Again, Night Light was content with the silence. Hesitantly I returned the gesture to lock hooves around her, holding the warmth between her legs and in her breath. Savoring the quiet moment.

“Feel better?” she mumbles in my coat.

“Yeah.” I tightened the grip around her.

A few more moments of awkward silence pass. Eventually, she retreats from the embrace and gingerly sits back down. A look of worry etched on her features.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be,” she answers, “I get it.”

I nodded. She gently slides the cup of hot cocoa over to me, nodding at me all the while.

I grasped the handle of the mug and sniffed it carefully. The scent of cane sugar and chocolate drowned out all the other senses in the world. I closed my eyes as I took a sip and savored every sensation that stimulated the taste buds on my tongue. 

It was warm; a perfect temperature to enjoy without hesitation.

It was delicious. 

A sigh is heard from my nostrils as I exhaled slowly after the first sip. “Thank you. I needed that.” 

“Are you okay?”

I had my mouth open to speak. 

Yeah, I’m okay.

… was what I wanted to say.

The words stopped dead in my throat as I sat there, jaw agape, looking a little dumb. The vocal cords are seizing up.

My brow furrowed. I stare down at the mug now in my hooves as the dark beverage sits half-empty. 

Night Light’s question rings again and again in my mind.

Are you okay?

It’s like a snap in my neurons. A fiery bolt of lightning, as quick as light itself, traveled through my brain. More memories began to surface, this time very recent ones.

How I sat upon a cloud looking at a sunset.

How goons showed up and took us away from our homes.

How I had to forcefully relive Tartarus on Earth to prevent it from happening again.

How the responsibility of this monumental task seemingly falls onto my shoulders alone.

How I mourned for the lives lost and for the decades it would take to heal the damage.

How I reunited with Night Light after a day of tormentful remembrance.

The emotional whiplash of everything amalgamated into a single thought.

Are you okay?

“No,” I answered honestly, for the first time since she asked me that question, “I am not.”

Silence. A cold breeze envelopes me from one of the windows outside. The somnolent scent of cocoa sends shivers down my spine. When I look around, I am still in my home.

It feels like I am back in that room again…

“Do you ever have the feeling that you have forgotten something terrible?”

The question left Night Light bewildered, but not without an answer as she replied with a raised brow, “Sometimes. The feeling doesn’t last, and I don’t tend to dwell on the thought for long. Why?”

“... For all the trauma I remember—willingly or otherwise—I don’t really remember everything from my past. There are a few blank gaps in my memory, mostly towards the end of the war. But even then, from what I know; from what little I do remember, all I can see is madness.”

Night Light doesn’t say a word. Her body is stock still, her eyes intense, her stature stiff, and her face hardened with years' worth of experience to steel one’s resolve. For a split second, she looked like a soldier standing at attention.

“All I can remember was me being a bad pony, but also a good soldier. All I can remember was Darkness.”

“... Darkness?” Night Light asks, more scared than curious if anything.

“What else can I call it,” I replied. It wasn’t meant to be a question.

She had no response to that.

“Imagine how many years we had been at war,” I began, “compounded by the centuries of peace we had prior. The animals are not the same to us since the war, they won’t interact with us as easily. The landscape is still marred and maimed with the remains of leftover bombs and mines, obstacles that nopony even can make a guess as to how long it will take to remove them. Nopony who is from the frontlines, or who lost their friends, families, and homes will ever be the same again.”

Painful memories are boiling over once again in my mind’s cauldron, but the lid of indifference helps prevent a spillover for the time being as my thoughts are honed on a razor’s edge. Focused on the point I am trying to deliver.

“Cities are reduced to rubble, cultures are killed, and entire populations are massacred. Many towns are villages are wiped off the map, never to be seen again. Ponies disappeared overnight and are gone forever. Soldiers are sleeping inside the dirt of the earth forever. Darkness is the only thing I can call it.

“The wounds will take decades to heal, Night Light. For some, probably more than that. And for me?”

I paused. Night Light had a look of guilt-ridden on her features by the end of the tangent. The feeling was mutual. I couldn’t shake the premonition that all of this, somehow, was my fault. As absurd as that sounded, it also seemed plausible.

After all, that nuke is still out there somewhere…

Shivers travel up my spine.

“... I am no exception to that,” I finished lamely after a long pause, “I feel like I failed, despite everything I did. I am not okay.”

“... I’m sorry,” Night Light whispers, her face looking down at the now cool mug of cocoa. 

No words were exchanged between us. For a few seconds—which felt eternal yet ephemeral—Silence reigned supreme. 

Soporose, supreme silence. A yawn nearly escapes me.

“... I know exactly how you feel.” I hear her whisper again, devoid of any optimism.

I glance upward at her hiding her face behind her long bangs, her silvery mane blocking her eyes as her head droops as low as her ears.

I chose to say nothing, waiting for her to elaborate if she would will herself to. Somewhere within the jungle of her mane, I see jade irises glancing through them with uncertainty.

She gives a long and bitter sigh.

“I failed so many ponies in the past that I feel like I don’t deserve to be here…”

My heart hitches in my throat for a second. A sudden sinking feeling quells in my stomach as it threatens to suffocate me. I wasn’t sure where it came from, but there was a hunch that this was a bad idea to continue down this path of conversation.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I suddenly reach out to comfort her with a hoof to her hoof, “You can let go of the past.”

“... Until tomorrow.”

I paused. For a few minutes, I had completely forgotten about S.M.I.L.E. 

“And what good would that do?” she asks.

I had no answer. Only a burning curiosity.

Don’t do it. It would only hurt her, my mind thinks.

“Why?” I instinctively asked.

She inhales, holding her breath for a few moments before exhaling with a deep loud huff.

Now you’ve done it. No turning back now. You asked for this.

“I… I don’t know what they told you in there, while we were separated. But I assume they didn’t really tell you why they took me as well, didn’t you?”

I shook my head. “They gave me vague suggestions, but nothing concrete, no.”

She looks up at me with sudden resolve. “I told you already I was a pilot. Did I tell you the name of my Squadron? And what I did do?”

I pondered. The inner encyclopedia in my head came up empty on that file. I shook my head.

“Well, to put it bluntly, I was the leader of Garuda Squadron. Have you heard of that name?” She asks with bated breath.

She expects me to know her already. She expects me to understand what that name implies. Instead, I simply shook my head again.

“Really? You—Wow, that… huh.” She was genuinely shocked at the lack of awareness.

“... Should I know what that means?”

“I just… never mind. Probably for the best, that you hear it from me first.” 

“So you were the leader?” I asked, with a touch of pride. Wherever that came from, I wasn’t sure. “That’s quite the position to be in.”

“It was,” she acquiesced, “a stressful, exhausting, and adrenaline-inducing position to be in. And I don’t mean that in a good way.”

“I didn’t think there was a good way for all of that.”

She smiles at that, a small crease to her lips barely visible in the light.

“You are right, there isn’t. But I digress, I was in charge of three other ponies. Over time, these ponies became more than just my squad mates. As we grew up together and as time passed on, we grew fond of each other’s company. We became friends quickly, all four of us.”

The smile widens a little further, as her mind travels back to a more pleasant set of memories. Memories of carol singing, and promises kept. 

And promises broken. A hint of sadness wells up in me, somehow.

She seems sad about it too, whatever this thought was.

“... You were close to them. Very close.” I finished the thought for her.

She nods solemnly. “They were the only friends I had in this world for the longest time.”

There was a sad ending to this story. I can see it in her eyes as she stares into the skies outside the window above the sink.

“... Didn’t end well?”

No response. She stares outside for a few more seconds. After another deep breath, she held in for a moment before exhaling and turning back to me.

“I don’t know,” she replies, “I feel like I am still figuring that out.”

It was the most honest answer she had out of all the ones she came up with.

“How do you mean?”

“... What did they tell you in there?”

“Huh?”

“Why were you picked up? I can understand why I was interrogated, but why you?”

Hang on…

“... What do you mean you understand?” I asked quickly. “Why do you think you were important?”

I paused, leaning back a little on that remark. It sounded a lot less harsh in my head than out loud. Even Night Light was taken aback on this.

“Sorry, that was… I didn’t mean to say that. I just… Why do you say that you understand why they want you? What was special about you, exactly?” I asked tactfully, careful with the way I said it.

She forgets the question she had asked earlier and instead focuses on me. 

… It’s for the best. Don’t want her to know what kind of monster you are, right?

Shut up brain, not now.

Night Light looks at me with penance, clearly dreading the question I had asked. Not like she wasn’t about to speak her mind on it earlier. But why the sudden change of topic?

… Just how much did her past haunt her?

“Why do you say that like you knew the reason as to why they are taking us away in the first place?”

“Because I think I do,” she replies earnestly, “and I want to know why they want you too.”

She parries the probe away and lunges the thought back to me with expert precision.

No wriggling out that easily.

“I said—” I stopped myself dead by shoving a hoof to my mouth before my tone grew more indignant than it already was.

“... What?”

“Nothing, just…” I stuttered, trying to find my footing. “I-I don’t really know why they want me, I just know that I am the last survivor of my squad. And the last puzzle piece to whatever narrative they are piecing together.”

“And do you know what narrative that is? Why are they after you?”

“I asked you the same thing—”

“And I asked you first, stop dodging the question Sunshine!” she tersely pipes up in her tone.

“WHY?!” I screamed.

The sinking feeling in my stomach returns stronger than before; a whirlpool of regret and shame welling up to absorb whatever composure remained, now washed away in guilt.

As I slowly internalized what just happened, Night Light sat back with pain and worry in her eyes. Neither of us spoke a word as I slowly sat back down.

Silence. Awkward, palpable silence reigned once more. I shuffle my hooves together and divert my gaze to them. The last thing I saw was Night Light’s expression hardened to a frown.

“... Sorry,” I mumbled.

“... I guess I won’t ever know from you, then.” 

It felt like a stake pierced my heart at those words. I look up to see Night Light’s gaze avoiding mine. 

“I’m going back to bed,” she quietly announces, getting up and leaving behind the mug of half-finished cocoa. “Goodnight.” 

I hear her hoofsteps softly pelt against the stiffy surface of cloud carpet, retreating back upstairs to our room.

You want to tell her the truth, don’t you? What is stopping you?

I didn’t want to hurt her.

Yeah? Well, you failed on that one. She feels like she can’t trust you now. Or maybe she does… against her better judgment.

Maybe she’ll ask those in the agency about your past. Then she will learn the hard way. You do have a lot of skeletons in your closet that you would rather not see the light of day.

I hear her hoofsteps getting fainter.

“... I failed.”

The words left my mouth subconsciously, but they felt right. The hoofsteps behind me stop where they stood, but I didn’t dare turn around.

“... I wasn’t just a soldier on the ground who saw something; I was a part of a mission. A mission that spanned for years and for hundreds of kilometers that sent me on a wild goose chase all across the continent.”

“... And you failed because…?” She was afraid to ask.

“I failed because, despite all I have done, I never completed the mission I was a part of. And in light of that failure, my mission was superseded by others that were deemed more important. And even after the war’s end, nopony knows what happened really happened. All we knew was that despite everything, we still failed.”

“We?” I hear her hoofsteps approach me, softly; cautiously.

“My squad… before they were gone, we all worked towards the same goal. And we all failed. And now? I am the only one left to live with that failure.”

Night Light came into view from my left as she gingerly sat down in the same chair that she left moments ago. Her face donned an expression of worry and profound curiosity. One that was familiar to me and Bon Bon’s.

“... What failure?” she asks carefully.

No turning back after this. Say it, but say it carefully. Don’t spook her.

“... Years ago, in… I wanna say 1014? I honestly don’t remember the year, but I think 1014. Anyways, that year the army had finally liberated Vanhoover from the Changeling occupation with an invasion force of Pegasi, approaching from the sea to take them by surprise.”

“... And you were there?”

“I was, yes. I saw bad things there, things I won’t go into now. But there was something else we found in Vanhoover that haunts me still to this day.”

She leaned in, enraptured. No backing out of this now.

“... Can you promise me something before I tell you?” I ask her. She was taken aback by this sudden request but nods profusely. “Promise me that you won’t tell anypony this, especially those in S.M.I.L.E. tomorrow. I just… don’t know how to handle this.”

She frowned at the request. Her eyes scanned me for any hint of deception or ulterior motives. Eventually, she grabs hold of my hoof with hers, squeezing it in her grip with firm strength as she stares me dead in the eyes. “I promise.”

It was reassuring, and a little inspiring. I felt a shadow of a smile creep up to my lips. I took a deep breath. 

“In the sub-levels of the City Hall, the Changelings had holed up inside of a vault that they intended to use as their final stand. They mutinied against their officer and surrendered willingly when they realized they were trapped. My squad was assigned to clean up the vault and check for anything interesting they left behind.

“Hidden away in this same vault was an express elevator that led even further down underground. A secret room, if you will. I don’t know what they were using this room for, but they had a lot of maps and documents lying around inside. They clearly weren’t expecting visitors.

“How come? What did you find?”

“It was hidden away behind boxes and filing cabinets before we even found the elevator. I doubt the officer who was in the vault at the time even knew about it.”

My heart thundered faster, feeling it about to burst any second as I tried again to calm myself with deep breaths.

“... There was a case inside the sub-basement, hidden away in a corner that had been untouched for a long time. And inside…”

My throat tightened as I swallowed a chunk of saliva.

“Inside the case were three shaped spaces, built to contain Nuclear Bombs.”

Barely a second passed after those words before an audible gasp was heard from Night Light. It was so quiet and faint that I almost mistook it for my own hitched breathing. Another gust of wind billows gently past us as silence takes control again.

My mind travels back to the night in Vanhoover, my squad standing over the open case in dumbfounded disbelief. The shape of the bombs inside the case was cylindric in nature, supporting a capsule at the top that was fixed into the cylinder like a fuze. A glowing red button sat at the top of these capsules, waiting to be pressed. The space in the middle was empty, whereas that same space was pinched between two more filled spaces; each containing its own bomb to transport.

“... There were only two inside.”

My heart pulsed in an irregular rhythm, pounding hard enough that I would be convinced its exploding with each beat. Cold sweat was accumulating across my body as it began to quake and shiver. A cold blanket of anxiety and dread smothers my being.

All I can think about is that empty space in the middle.

That one fucking space.

“Nuclear…” she repeats the word, feeling it on her tongue for the first time. “... Wait, the same bomb that we dropped on Vesalipolis?”

My mind travels back to that day. I remember hearing about it from rumors first before any concrete evidence was made. I remember a newspaper clipping that somehow managed to smuggle past the contraband checks and slipped through to the soldiery. 

The newspaper clipping telling the event made it sound painfully mundane. But I remember one anecdote from it. An interview with the pilot who had aided in dropping the bomb; Lightning Dust.

My mind travels back; it pictures a scene of a bomber landing clumsily on a paved tarmac, surrounded by a crowd of cheering ponies as they return from a successful mission. The bomber named ‘Octavia Melody’ brakes the wheels to a halt as the side doors open up to reveal the interior. 

Lightning Dust, the pilot, steps out of the cabin first followed by the rest of her crew as they are immediately swarmed by the Press to record what happened. One of these ponies from the Press asks the fabled question: 

“How did it feel?”

“... Pretty good,” she begins, “definitely gave their nest a good rattling on that one. Can’t say how, can’t say why, but I can say for certain that there are a lot of dead bugs down there. It makes me tempted to rename ol’ Octy here to ‘Roach Repellent.’”

I blink, and I am back home. Night Light looks at me expectantly.

“The same, yes,” I conclude.

Silence. Night Light contemplates this sudden batch of information and revelations. She furrows her brow in deep thought as her eyes dart across the table like she is drawing lines with her pupils.

“A Nuclear Bomb…” she repeats in disbelief. Her eyes never leave the table, as she slows them down to stare at her mug in deep concentration. I never interrupted her as I was content to sit in silence and await her judgment. 

“So let me make this perfectly clear: You were searching for a Nuclear Bomb, all throughout the war; a bomb that was supposed to be in a basement in Vanhoover alongside two others; and before, during, and after the war’s end, you still never found it?”

“... Yes.” I quietly answered. 

“... And is this why these ponies want you too? To find it?”

“... More or less, yeah.”

More silence. 

I gaze at the table, unable to look at Night Light again as I say these words. The beating in my heart never subsided, and now the quakes were visible to her.

“... Sunshine,” she begins.

I close my eyes. 

Here it comes.

“... I don’t understand.”

“Huh?” I answered, sounding dumb again. “W-what do you mean you don’t understand?”

“I mean: that doesn’t make any sense!”

I look up at her staring at me incredulously, with one of her brows creased in a curious frown.

“... Elaborate, please.” I ask slowly.

“Okay. first of all: You found these in the basement of City Hall? Inside a secret room? I don’t mean to be callous, but that sounds like you just made it up. And secondly, you found two of three? And they were in capsules?” 

“But that-”

“It doesn’t make any sense, Sunshine!” She repeats the phrase with a hint of indignation. “You’re telling me that you have nothing to do with me? At all?! They are just plucking you along because of that?”

“You are making it sound like this isn’t real! It is real, Night Light, I’ve seen them with my own eyes! What reason would I have to lie to you?”

She huffed and panted, but otherwise had no retort or answer.

“I know it sounds insane, I get it! I ran the whole thing in my mind over thousands of times at this point! Why does it keep coming back to haunt me? I don’t know! Why I am being interrogated by these goons in suits? I don’t know!  All I know is that this,” I stretch my hooves out wide, highlighting the insane situation and the absurd conversation we were in, “all of this that we are in has something to do with that fucking bomb!”

“And I don’t believe that!” She nearly screams back.

A staring contest between us erupts as we both confront each other's worldview, seemingly simultaneously. Both of us are at an impasse.

“... Why?” I asked carefully. “And I don’t mean that in a confrontational way. I just want to know why. Why do you think that a Nuclear Bomb has nothing to do with this?”

The tone of my voice, the cadence of my speech, the choice of my words; all of this left her without a defense to conjure up. Whatever she was going to say, the words died in her throat.

Eventually, she sits back down with a sigh. “... I don’t know. I just thought that… I thought you were collateral damage for what I had done. But now?” 

She clutches her temples in a groan. “It just… It doesn’t make sense!”

“... How?” I asked tactfully, no hint of rage or indifference apparent. “Enlighten me.”

Wrinkles on her forehead furrowed in thought. She doesn’t show effort in hiding her indecision, but eventually, a sigh is heard.

“... Before I do, I need to tell you something,” she begins, her tone suddenly serious. “Everything I did, everything I am about to tell you, all that I had seen; I didn’t ask for any of this. I just wanted to survive. And, in a strange way, I know how you feel about all of this.”

I tilted my head on that one. The way she said it with conviction, no hesitation found in her voice. 

This is the truth. The whole, honest truth from her.

“Once upon a time during a thunderstorm over Mead Lake, I died.”

The words shocked me for a split second, until I remember she was still here.

“... You don’t appear to be dead,” I idly remarked, “quite healthy in fact.” 

“You’re right. But to everypony else? They thought I was dead. In reality, though, my plane got shot down and I didn’t get out in time for anypony to see my survive. I had a lot of bruised bones, and I had been shot in my shoulder. So far, not a good day.”

“I’ll say, and here I thought I had bad days…”

“It didn’t get much better after that. I managed to retreat into the mountains north of Mead Lake and slept in a cave to tend to my wounds after a few hours of flying in a torrential down pour. I was sickly, hurting all over, and the bullet wound I took was now infected.

“Despite all of that, however, I survived. And long story short, I flew to Las Pegasus, met somepony who helped me out, and managed to fly my way back home to the fleet with a plane they lent me.”

“... Very generous,” I observed.

“Not without a price,” she amended, “Everypony thought I was dead during that time. And so, having me come back home after that was… quite the shock. Not just for the ponies that knew me, but for my enemies as well. And another long story short, I had a friend who helped get me back on my hooves; the same friend who helped guide me back home in Las Pegasus.

“This friend of mine, I owed a favor to. And I was able to repay that favor in earnest. Although,” she pondered, “strangely enough, I don’t remember hearing him thank me for doing that.”

“He? A stallion?”

“An intelligent and diligent one, yes. I respected him… maybe against my better judgment.” A pang of sadness coats her words before she shakes them off. “But nevertheless, I helped him.”

“What favor did you help him with?”

Another sigh, “Yet another long story short, I helped him listen to enemy communications by sparring against them. And this helped me get an advantage against them in return. I helped him, he helped me. A sort of symbiotic relationship, except one that was aimed towards battling Changelings. Needless to say, I welcomed the advantages it gave me.”

“I would too,” I admitted, “It sounds powerful.”

“It was. And in a strangely cathartic way—which is a little disturbing to admit—I enjoyed how much power I had over them. It made me feel like I was one step ahead of them at all times, and I knew what to do.”

“How was this possible?” I asked. No technology I had heard of was capable of doing this.

“That’s just the thing, I am not really sure how myself. All I knew was that he gave me an earpiece—the only one of its kind that he entrusted me with—that was capable of simultaneously translating and transmitting any frequency that wasn’t immediately recognized on a broadwave channel.” She spouts the scientific-sounding words as if she had heard this lecture hundreds of times.

“It told me what they were saying, and who was saying it. And any encryption they had would be immediately dissected in real-time before the transmission would begin.”

“That sounds rather miraculous. And you were just… gifted this prototype? The only one of its kind?”

“I know, it sounds unbelievable.”

But it’s not. It is the truth. I can tell with the conviction in her words. It was hard to deny and she had no reason to lie about it either.

“Okay, this is… a lot to take in. So… You have this earpiece. Is that why S.M.I.L.E. wants you as well?”

Just like that, the enthusiasm about this conversation wanes like a decrescendo. Her smile dissipates, and her eyes gaze into space in deep concentration.

“Truth be told, I don’t think so. I mean, they said why they wanted me, but I am having a hard time believing it myself.”

“And what reason is that?”

“Aigaion.”

My heart stops for a split second.

The ever-familiar word repeats again and again in my mind as I struggle to process what Night Light had just said. I almost couldn’t believe it, and it took the last vestiges of composure left in me to not panic and flinch at those words.

Painful memories began to surface again.

“A-Aigion?” I stuttered, trying my best to mask the panic festering beneath.

“Weird name, I know,” she speaks innocuously, “Do you know it?”

For a few seconds, my brain refused to work. Until it eventually conjured a very simple and neutral response.

“No,” I answered atonally, trying to hide my awareness of the monstrosity.

“I wouldn’t hold it against you. It’s an airship. One that is dead now, so I cannot for the life of me imagine why they want to put my life on hold over it.” She mulls it over to herself, not really talking to me anymore. “I feel like they are missing something… and so am I.”

“That’s why they want you?”

She nods solemnly. “A dead fragment of my past coming back to haunt me. Even in death, its ghost still refuses to leave me alone. And it’s gotten these ponies at S.M.I.L.E. in a tizzy over it.”

Panic seeped into my heart. Hiding it from Night Light took an extreme effort of willpower, whatever iota of it remained for me at this point.

“... So, a Nuclear Bomb, huh?” She swiftly changes topics.

“Y-Yeah. Now you know.” I finished lamely. Sudden, palpable relief that she didn’t pursue the topic of Aigaion further calms me.

“... And it’s still out there, somewhere? We just have a rogue Nuclear Bomb around the world somewhere that nopony has found?”

“It would seem that way,” I answered honestly. “And they need my help to find it.”

She gives a long, bitter sigh. “What a strange, sad world we live in for something like that to happen, huh?”

Again, the awkwardness returned in full force as we suddenly both ran out of energy to continue talking. I looked back at the clock.

Five minutes until Three in the morning.

“... We need to sleep,” I resigned, “We’re gonna need the energy for tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she answers with a deep yawn, “that sounds lovely.” She quickly gets up from her chair seconds before I do the same.

I suddenly feel glomped from behind, fur rubbing against feathers. Night Light embraces me with a tight squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she simply apologizes.

“For what?”

“For pressing you, for making you feel guilty about this… I don’t know. I just feel sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” I returned the embrace, rubbing her hooves with my own as we both stood on hind legs supporting one another’s weight. “I feel like I started all of this. If anypony should apologize, it’s me for forcing you to talk about your past in the first place.”

“... I still feel bad, though.”

“Well, we can both feel bad together, and that will even itself out. Maybe we will realign the cosmos with our combined angst.”

A groan was heard from my mane as she buried her face in my neck. “Ugh, bad humor won’t help me with that, you know.” 

I gave a small giggle, “I can only try.”





Me and Night Light collapsed into the bed from exhaustion, neither of us finding the energy within us to drape the sheets back over us so instead we opted to spoon one another for warmth instead.

She approached me from behind her hooves wrapped around my barrel, interlocking with one another as she pulled me closer. Her warm breath tickled my neck with each huff. Her face cradles between the pillows and my neck for support. After a few seconds of settling in her weight, a sigh of relief was heard from her.

“Goodnight,” she mumbles.

“Goodnight,” I mumble back.

Her breathing slows down to steady, rhythmic paces. Each exhale down my spine sends another wave of drowsiness to my brain as I close my eyes. My mind is blissfully blank and empty, ready for another start into the oblivion of slumber. I ready my subconscious for sleep.

But sleep doesn’t come.

I lay there for an inordinate amount of time. Five, ten, thirty minutes? An hour? I don’t know how long I was there, only that I was still awake. My eyes are heavy and the weight pressing against my back prevents me from moving. But yet, the promise of slumber eludes me.

A soft groan escapes my lips. I took another deep breath and willed myself to stop moving and stop thinking. 

A few minutes of blissful silence pass, until even my thoughts are starting to feel heavy. Half-formed words and images float about. 

Amalgamated shapes are forming beneath the shadows of my eyelids.

Eventually, images began to take shape and materialize in front of my eyes.





Inside the hallways of S.M.I.L.E. Agency, I see a familiar door waiting for me at the other end of the hall. Dread and terror coat my soul as my body feels cold and heavy. 

I twist away from the door and turn around to see a black pale, forbidding me from entering its murky contents. Denying even an acknowledging glance of its existence.

Turning back around reveals the same hallway, and the same door, that I had been trapped in.

“I don’t want to,” I mutter.

Somewhere, deep within the bowels of this facility, a shivering presence connects itself to me like nerve endings set ablaze. Words pierce through my skull, omniscient in its presence enough to give sound.

And it sounds like a mare, whispering to me.

Beckoning me to come to her.

She was waiting for me beyond that door, whatever she was. The sinking feeling in my gut overtakes me as another hunch plagues my thoughts.

You won’t like what is beyond that door.

“What choice do I have?” I mumble as I began to walk. It felt like the gravity of the planet had grown more powerful. The weight of the universe itself was pushing down against my back as I trudged forward toward that blank metallic door with no window or handle. Only a push-panel.

A few arduous minutes of crawling rewarded me with planting my hoof against the smooth, cold surface. Shivers traveled up my spine again as I pushed through the door with all my might. Until it finally groaned forward with a deafening roar.

Exhaustion overtook me as I collapsed into the dark room. Crawling further in, I noticed that Gravity had finally returned to normal. Ceasing its needless onslaught onto my bones as I finally stood up straight.

There was no light in the room. Save for the illumination from outside. The doorway was only slightly agape as I turned around to look back outside.

Only to see the door close on its own in a lightning-quick motion, plunging me into darkness. I twisted my body, left-right, up-down. Everywhere I looked yielded nothing but an abyss to gaze into.

“Hello?” I gently called out, wondering who was the voice I heard earlier. “Anypony here?”

A foul stench suddenly invades my nostrils. An infamously familiar smell that I wanted to forget forever. The stink pervaded the room around me, lingering like a plague in the air. I smothered my nostrils, but I could still taste the odor.

Do you remember the stench of death?

A choir of voices speaks to me. A chorus that would never hear the final applause ferments itself into my consciousness, no larger than a single malt of grain. 

There was a buzz and popping sound from above me. The light bulb in the room ignites itself to light to illuminate its surroundings. I stared at a blank, dull wall that boasted a monotonous grey paint.

Another sound was heard. The sound of flies buzzing.

I turn around to see the source of the foul odor. 

Jumping back in horror, I found myself staring eye-to-eye with a walking corpse. Its eye sockets had long since been empty of its ocular occupants. Maggots and worms burrow themselves between the gaps of bone marrow and rotten tissue. The face still bloated with blemishes and tumors, yet the skeletal remains of a pony still stand in place. Its flesh long since rotted off from decomposition. 

It wore a Brodie Helmet to conceal its waning mane and exposed skull, hiding the exposed brain matter just sitting beneath. The purple uniform of the Equestrian Army was stained with caked blood and feces. The stench of death assaulted my nostrils so violently, that I had to suppress the urge to hurl there and then. It was impossible to escape the smell as I was trapped in the room with… it. 

It stared at me with its blank eyeholes in the skull, its grin permanently etched onto its face. It opens its mouth to speak. From within the depths of my psyche, I could feel eternity in its wide maw. No tongue, only dried, aged teeth.

Do you remember the scent of your youth?

A gravelly voice, coarse like sandpaper rubbing against skin, touches the threads of my mind. There was something about this corpse; the way they talked, the way they stood, the way they dressed; how intimately familiar they were to me…

Do you remember the warmth of the summer?

The way it chooses the questions it asks…

Do you remember why you chose to forget everything?

Do you remember how many times you should have died? 

Do you remember how many times that you have killed?

Do you remember who you were before you walked the path of damnation?

“What is this?” I finally asked, feeling cold fangs sinking into me.

You know who I am. You should know. How can you forget your own reflection?

“Reflection?”

Oh come on now, Sunshine, you do yourself a disservice. All the years you spent adapting to the horrors that Tartarus threw at you, all the creatures you’ve sent to its gates, and you cannot remember?

… Me.

“... You are me.”

No. I am what you should be.

“... But I am alive.”

Exactly.

“... How do you know me so well if you are supposed to be dead?” 

It chuckles.

I know that you, like a fly, rise up from the wreckage of your old shell, buzz around for a while, then curl up and die at the window of truth. You bumble about the pane, seeking the light it gives you without any plan for your actions, and fall exhausted when you fail.

It pauses for a short moment.

I wonder if you will ever learn from your mistakes.

I chose not to pry on that topic, waiting for it to continue. A surge of indignation swells up within me.

But it doesn’t matter. The wheel of history continues to make its turn without you.

“TELL ME WHAT THIS IS! Why are you here?!” I lash out, intolerant rage swelling up in my being.

You know why I am here. I am the bad day. I am the inevitable. I am the instrument of fate that has crushed so many. And you, Sunshine, have failed.

“What are you talking about? FAILED ON WHAT?!”

It’s the worst day of all time, Sunshine. It’s coming. And she will hear about it. And you cannot stop it.

For the first time since I laid my eyes on it, the corpse finally moved its head downward as if it were staring me down. Several joints and bones pop in audible ‘clicks’ as its eyesockets burrow their gaze into mine. The abysmal depths beneath pull me into its gaze.

Tell me. Where are your friends, Sunshine? Where have they gone?

“... Dead.”

That’s right. Gone, and never coming back. And who’s fault is that?

I didn’t answer.

You failed Night Light. You failed your friends. You failed Equestria. You failed the world. 

You failed me. 

You failed Elysium itself.

“I don’t… no, thats not…” I found no energy to finish the thought. Tears pricked my eyes as the corpse continued to speak. Strangely, it sounded atonal yet angry.

You really dropped the ball on this one, Sunshine. One-point-four BILLION creatures on the planet—And you failed every single one of them.

Silence. My gaze hung low as the flies began to circle around me.

Everything, from the isles to the mountains, the ocean bed, the leylines, the fabric of the aethers, and the gates of Tartarus. Burning, furious truth, thousands of years of recorded history. 

You have royally fucked up, Sunshine.

“I… who am I talking to…?” I mumble, trying to combat the dread, the guilt, the shame, and the sorrow all threatening to drown me.

Nopony? Yourself? Who knows? All you ever do is talk, talk, talk. Even in your dreams, even now, when everything is cast into oblivion, you still cannot help yourself. 

The walls around me began to leak, melting downward in a puddle of black soupish liquid.

“I’m trying… I’m still trying..”

The corpse disintegrates into powder, melting into the walls as the room around me loses its lucidity.

What is that? I cannot hear you. But hark! Do you feel that? Is that awareness creeping up on you? It is! It’s your conscience, and it is unhappy. 

“Wait… Please…” I reach out into nothing, trying to hold on to nothing, talking to nothing.

Why am I here? What am I doing here?

I can only remember the voices of the dead singing a song to me as I emerge back from the pale of sleep.

 It’s time you remember why you forgot.
> (A4) - Chapter 2: Consequences
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 4, Chapter 2: Consequences



“That’s the problem with doubt. I can’t even trust if what I am feeling is true, or if I’m just scared of death only because of my brush with the fever.”






“Sunshine!”

The voice drowns into a familiar feminine tone. The half-formed images retreat into the primordial darkness as my eyes squint from the brightness of morning light. I feel a hoof pushing me on my left as my conscience ferments into a bubbling pot of emotions ranging from dread to fatigue.

“Gruuurugh bah.” I mumble in my pillow.

“Sunshine, it’s almost eleven o’ clock.” Night Light patiently announces from above.

“Sleep.” I groaned back.

“No sleep, we have to get up. I made breakfast for you.”

My ears twitch. The mention of breakfast emits a loud growl from my stomach.

“And I know you haven’t eaten last night, so get up.”

“Uuuuuuugh.” My brain and my belly were engaged in a tug of war. The latter emits one more growl as it asserts its dominance in the altercation. “Fine, I’m coming.”

Night Light gave me the grace to leave me to my wallowing from insomnia alone, as I rolled around the now empty bed with its stirred sheets and stretched the taut muscles all across my body. My eyes adjusted to the brightness of morning as I lifted them with great effort and strain. The air felt warm around me, my nostrils breathing a deep sigh as I slowly stood up.

A few minutes of brushing my teeth and freshening up had passed before Night Light saw me descend downstairs rubbing my still bleary-eyes.

“Good morning.” Night Light greets me, sliding a plate of eggs and toast down to me. The sizzling of the pan gave my mind a vivid imagination of melting butter as Night Light prepared her portion next. The kitchen pervaded an aroma of butter, pepper, and egg yolks that slowly called me to sit down at my plate of breakfast.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I reply as I take the first bite of toast. Still warm. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long,” she replies, flipping an egg in the air. “I got to prepping eggs the second I sat up about ten minutes ago. I haven’t made coffee yet.”

“Do you want me to-”

“No it's fine, thank you. Just eat your breakfast.”

I raised an eyebrow at her quick response, which was immediately shrugged off with another bite of toast.

Clicking the stove off, she sets down a plate on the counter as the toaster dings from the timer, its guests popping out of the slots. Night Light deftly spreads the butter with a knife using her wingtips, planting two eggs in between the slices to make a sandwich.

Neither of us said a word as we both nonchalantly enjoyed the quiet morning. The scent of summer whiffs passes my nostrils as my eyes travel to the window above the sink. A few pegasi are flying about the premises, enjoying lighthearted acrobatics as they proceed with their leisurely flight.

A sense of bitterness swelled up in me as I realized what awaited me later today.

“... Have you heard from them, yet?” The bitterness transfers to my voice.

“No,” she answers, quickly catching on as to who I’m talking about. “S.M.I.L.E. is said to come by in the afternoon and it is still technically morning so I think we got a couple of hours to ourselves.”

“... Not nearly as much as I would like.”

“Nearly?” she wryly questions.

“Okay, nowhere near the amount of time I would like.” I corrected with an eye-roll. 

“Thought so.” she relents with a small smirk. “What would you do without me?”

“Wallow in my depression and cry about how I miss you?” I answered atonally.

She looks back at me with a concerned look in her gaze.

Jeez, where did that come from?

“Uh… you okay?”

“Yeah fine, sorry that was… I don’t know why I said that.” 

The lame apology was enough to invoke a sense of pity in Night Light. At least, I think it's pity. Or maybe she just feels worried for me. That's probably it. I could be overthinking this.

A yawn escaping my lips reminds me that I had just woken up.

“Well, it’s good we don’t have to do that anymore. I for one don’t like to dwell on doom and gloom. Doesn’t tend to do wonders for one’s health.”

I nodded with a small smile. “You’re right about that.”

After some fetching around in the pantry, she eventually opens the coffee tin and pours the ground beans into the filter. Some pouring water in a compartment here, and some spreading the coffee there, and she was done with the press of a button. Soon the boiler began to work.

As Night Light waited on her coffee, she sat down to finally eat the sandwich she set aside. She gave a small moan of satisfaction as she took the first bite.

Again, neither of us relished the comfort of the quiet morning as we opted to stay silent. Apart from the boiling in the coffee machine, there wasn’t much sound to fixate on. 

That was when my brain realized there was really nothing to do in the meantime. As I tried to find minor tasks to fixate on, blanks were consistently coming up in my frontal cortex. It was hard. The only thing I could focus on was the fact that we would soon be abducted once again in a few hours.

A few hours to kill until we were taken away from each other again…

“Sunshine? You’re making that face again.”

I blinked. My expression softened as I looked up at Night Light gazing at me with worry once again.

“Right,” I mumble, “Sorry. Old habit.”

“Thinking about them, again?”

“What else is there to think about?”

She had no answer, instead sighing as she looked at her now empty plate. She notices the coffee machine has finished boiling and gets up to pour herself a cup. A few sugar scoops and careful sips from her ensured it was ready.

Sitting back down, she averts her gaze to fixate on her beverage.

I sigh as well.

“It is hard to enjoy the day when you know you are about to be abducted.”

“Is that how you see it,” she asks, “being abducted?”

“Is that how you not see it?” I countered.

“I’m not arguing against that, but…” she trails off. A noticeable hitch in her tone prevents her from finishing what she wants to say. Or maybe she was second-guessing herself? 

“But what?” 

“Look, I don’t like the fact that a bunch of goons in suits are coming to our home and taking us away for questioning—which is very troubling and I agree with you on it being unlawful—but aside from that obvious breach in Equestrian Law and aside from their aggressive posturing-”

“—That what? That there is something to be said about what they are doing? That they are trying to do right for Equestria by doing this? Is that what you were going to say?” I counter again, bitterness returning in full force.

“No, dammit, I mean-” she stops with a sigh. “Look… we both have our troubled pasts that are somehow connected to this stupid investigation they want to solve. All I am saying is that there has to be a reason for their aggression. They can’t just be like this without one.”

“... And that reason is probably the Nuclear Bomb that I told you about.” I relented as last night’s memories replayed in my head. I sit back in my seat with a heavy thump.

“Or the Aigaion.” Night Light corrects.

“Right,” I mutter, “But, didn’t you say that it was gone now?”

“It is, which is why none of this makes sense to me.” she groans with a hoof rubbing her temple. “Why would they want information on something that is dead? Why does it have anything to do with me if what they are after is the Nuclear Bomb?”

A lightbulb flashes in my mind as my eyes widen slightly.

Wait...

“... Why can’t it be both?” 

“Huh?”

“Well, think about it,” I sat up in my seat, my elbows planted on the table, “We both are being questioned at the same time. We both were taken away by the same ponies who wanted to know about our past and our lives. And we know that they want to prevent something like this from happening again.

“I’m not sure what you are saying, exactly.” Night Light tilts her head with a raised brow.

“What if the Aigaion was connected to the Nuclear Bomb?”

My heart suddenly seizes up as I remember the events of Hjortland. How I found the target plans of Aigaion alongside their blueprints for an upgrade.

How they were targeting Canterlot…

“Oh... Fuck.” I suddenly mutter.

“What?” Night Light asks, picking up on my horrified expression.

“... What if the Aigaion was carrying the bomb?”

Silence. Night Light’s pupils dilate in horror at the question. My heart thundered in my chest, my mind wandering down memory lane. I remembered how much time we had to get that info back to Equestria. 

Only a few days head start.

“... Oh fuck.”

Night Light snapped out of her dread-filled stupor to shake her head.

“What? What is it now?!”

“... I think-” I stopped myself just shy as the words died in my throat. 

Memories of a race against time.

Memories of apprehension as to whether we were too late.

A cold sinking feeling grips my body as the minds wander further down its crevices. 

Within, a primordial instinct soon takes hold of me. Demanding me to turn back. To not delve further.

You won’t like what you find in there.

“You think what?!” Night Light asks again, pressing the question further with manic worry.

“... I think the Aigaion was going to destroy Canterlot. And it was going to drop it there.”

It sounded like such a simple sentence, but it carried the sinking weight of a world unburdened by nuclear fire. Mental images of Canterlot melting into cinders invaded my mind as it collapsed into a landslide down the face of its mountain. 

My vision returns to see Night Light looking at me with fearful disbelief. 

“... How do you think that?”

“Long story, but... once upon a time, I was in Hjortland during a raid. And in that raid, we found plans for the Aigaion’s strike missions. One of its priority targets was Canterlot. By the time we had found it, we had less than a week to warn Equestria of what was to come. Less than a week of time to travel all the way across Equestria to prevent the destruction of its Lodestar.”

“And… you think Aigaion was harboring the same nuke you were looking for?”

“I never made the connection at the time. I never made the realization then, I just knew that we had to get back in time before it was too late.” I paused as my eyes gazed down in contemplation. “Thinking back on it now, though... it is not unlikely.”

Night Light thinks back on this with her gaze trapped in her coffee, her brows creased in a frown of doubt.

I notice it and ask, “What? What is it?”

“You remember last night that the ponies from S.M.I.L.E. want me because of the Aigaion?”

Shivers of dread wash up my spine. A twinge of a memory threatens to resurface itself, but… It washes away. I lost the train of thought as fast as it had arrived at the station, like a bullet in one ear and out the other.

“Yeah, what of it?” I answered atonally, my mind clearing itself up.

“I never really told you their reasoning as to why,” she looks outside to the window over the sink once again. A blink later, and her head snaps in my direction. “They are trying to figure out how it died.”

“... And I take it that they don’t really know the answer?” I asked cautiously.

“Not really, no. They need my help discerning it. I helped fight against it in the early war when I first met it in Las Pegasus. I knew it more than any other pony that is currently alive. I am their best bet.”

“You… fought against it?” I asked in horror. “Wasn’t that thing, like, a death machine?”

She shuddered. “It was. It was by far the most terrifying foe I went against.” She looks down at her beverage cupped in her hooves again. 

A sense of déjà vu passes through me quickly. Again, that same twinge. I try to focus on it, try to make it manifest into what it is trying to convey.

I only remember dark corridors. Similar to the ones in my dreams…

“I didn’t fight it much because of that. Ponies up top knew how dangerous it was. They never fought against it unless they had to,” she frowns, “And I don’t remember fighting against it in Canterlot.” Night Light continues, unbothered by my mental maladies.

“... Well,” I interjected with sudden clarity, “weren’t you on a carrier for the war? Out on a fleet? How would you make it to Canterlot? Wouldn’t you have to land at an airfield out in the land somewhere?”

“That’s just the thing, nopony ever said anything about an attack on Canterlot at… wait, when was this?” she asked suddenly.

“Uh… I found it in the summer of 1014, I want to say. But I could misremember the year.” I gave an uneasy sigh. “I admit, I am not really sure.”

“Okay, assuming it's the summer of ‘14,” she continues, “... I never had any indication—from my friends, from the other pilots, from the instructors and the higher-ups—nopony said anything about Canterlot being attacked.

“It’s as if it never happened at all.”

I frowned at her but opted to stay quiet instead. Letting her finish.

“You said it was going to Canterlot, and you think it was carrying a Nuclear Bomb. And I don’t remember anything ever coming of Canterlot during that time. I don’t remember Aigaion ever getting that far inland. It always veered close to the coastline every time I heard of it. So either you saved Canterlot, or it wasn’t going to Canterlot.”

“... I got there in time,” I mumbled. “But…”

My heart quickens. Dark, rusted metal walls with sickly green lights…

“So maybe you did save Canterlot, or maybe not. But either way, the bottom line is this: how does this prove that both the Bomb and Aigaion are connected?” Night Light presses one last time.

My mind stops. The question repeats in my mind until it focuses on that focal point of thought.

Indeed, she had a solid reasoning. There were chinks in the armor of the narrative I had constructed, threatening to unravel itself. But the fact of the matter remained, however. 

They were still connected.

And yet, Night Light was speaking the truth. 

No sense of doubt remained as she asked that question, she knew this was too implausible to be true. Too many coincidences had to align; the stars themselves aligning would be more likely than this narrative.

But it also carried an air of truth to it. It had to be connected. Somehow. I couldn’t see it but, it had to be. It was a self-evident truth, one that I had never been more certain of in my life.

Only a couple of seconds had passed, and Night Light still waiting for an answer. My mind is running the hamster wheel in perpetual motion as it grinds the gears to work. How would they logically connect to one another?

Night Light said that the agents in S.M.I.L.E. couldn’t figure out how they died. Which seems absurd. It wouldn’t make sense as to how they wouldn’t know if we were the ones to kill it.

… weren’t we?

“Wait, who did kill the Aigaion?” I asked aloud. “You said that S.M.I.L.E. did not remember, but you don’t either?”

She paused. A second of doubt possesses her until she shakes her head.

“... I know I didn’t kill it, but I helped in quickening its death. I helped in aiding in its destruction.” She pauses for another few seconds and takes a long sip of her coffee. “I know I saw it die.”

“You saw it die?”

She nods curtly. “I did. I saw it go down to the ground. I saw it crash into the earth already burning from fires erupting all across the vessel. I saw it explode when it plummeted. I know I saw it die, and that is how I know it is dead.”

Wrinkles are beginning to form on my forehead as I creased my brow in deep thought.

Then it clicked.

“If you saw it die,” I begin with sudden clarity, “and if the theory that supports the bomb being on the ship is true, then that would mean the bomb is already destroyed as well. Right?” 

“... Right.” Night Light agrees.

“And if it is destroyed, then there would be no point to this whole investigation in the first place, right?”

She stays silent, but her eyes betray a look of enraptured curiosity.

Dread coats my heart as it quickens it pace once again.

“That can mean a lot of things, but here are the three main possibilities as to what that means; either the bomb was destroyed with the ship without a detonation, which is unlikely. Or perhaps there was no nuclear bomb on the ship in the first place.”

“... Also unlikely.” Night Light acquiesces. 

“This leads to the third outcome:” I gave an accidental pause for dramatic effect, as I was busy swallowing thick saliva.

“Someone took the bomb off the ship and escaped with it. Before it was going down.”

Night Light gazes down at this theory. Rather than shock a look of analytical apprehension overtakes her features instead.  She darts her eyes back and forth as if in meticulous calculation.

“... Possible,” she mumbles, “but unlikely. That someone would have to still be at large for that to be true. They would still have the bomb today.”

The thought of a rogue changeling running around the country with a Nuclear Bomb in tow never failed to create goosebumps, shivers, and trembles of terror. The sickly mental image of a mushroom cloud forms again in my mind.

Memories of cindered flesh and voiceless screams in my dreams…

“I pray that is not the case.” Night Light quietly mumbles in hopeful reluctance.

“... But why else would S.M.I.L.E. want us?”

No answer.

“They said themselves that they want to prevent this from happening and that they don’t know where it was. And they need both of our help to piece together this narrative that surrounds them—both with the Aigaion and with the bomb. Why else would they be so aggressive about this? Why else would they want us both at the same time? Why else would they be interested in the Aigaion when the Nuclear Bomb seems much more important?”

“... Oh fuck.” Night Light repeats the words I muttered minutes ago. The same words that started this internalization of events.

Her eyes widen.

“... Oh fuck. It has to be true,” she mutters with horror. “It… It makes sense. Why they would want us both; Why they would persist about it even after its death; Why they would keep us both in the dark about each other’s history; It’s…” she trails off.

“Aigaion was harboring the nuke.” I finished for her in apprehension.

A suffocating atmosphere of dreadful silence encompasses us. Plates empty, and mug half empty, neither of us spoke a word for almost one minute straight. 

Until Night Light gives a choking sound.

“... I think I’m gonna be sick.”

She quickly gets up to the sink. More memories traveled back in time as I heard Night Light hurl into the drain next to me. The sounds are drowned out as my mind wanders once again down memory lane for the umpteenth time.

The sickly green light manifests into balefire, drowning the world in its flames in a torrent of annihilation. 

Tartarus incarnate.

“Huhkh- URRAAGH!” a violent hurl drowns my thoughts, followed by the sound of a sink running to flush the contents down. “Fuck…” 

‘Fuck’ is right. We are fucked.

Somewhere, only goddesses know where a Changeling is harboring a Nuclear Bomb. 

Watching.

Biding time.

“I think I am gonna be sick too,” I mutter to myself, feeling my body quake and tremble with fear at the horrific realization.

It makes too much sense. Every fiber of my being is screaming with conviction that this was the truth.

I look to see Night Light suffering alongside me with her panic attack, still curled over the faucet in a dreadful display.

“We… w-we have t-to tell them,” Night Light mumbles through the nausea, “h-have to tell them that-that the Aigaion was—”

“They know already, Night Light,” I mutter, “Why else would this be happening to us? From them?”

“Oh… Oh, Sweet Celestia.”

More silence, save for Night Light and I breathing heavily with fatigue and sudden adrenaline. 

The twinges return once more. Memories of emotions coursing through me.

Memories of hope and fear, unadulterated and unbecoming.

“... What now?” Night Light asks, snapping me back to reality.

What now?

Two seemingly innocuous words. But at the current moment, they are the most important words in the world.

What can we do now? I didn’t know. I felt like I was stranded on a raft in the middle of the sea, unable to fly away and instead float to my inevitable demise.

Sickly mental images of towers made of concrete and glass melting beneath the blinding pale of a mushroom cloud towering over the sky like an enraged god summoned to devastate the world for its hubris.

It could happen now.

It could happen here.

It could happen anywhere at any time. 

And there isn’t anything we can do to stop it.

“... I… I don’t know.” I finish lamely. “I don’t know what we can do. And I don’t think S.M.I.L.E. does as well.”

“They must have some kind of plan though, right?!” she asks with a hint of desperation. Her tone was borderline manic. “They have to!  They wouldn’t just bumble about this in the dark, not unless they had a solid lead.”

“And what do you think we are to them? Souvenirs?” I asked with indignance. “It's exactly what you said, we are their LAST lead. And even still, we are coming up with blanks as to where it is now! They know just as much as we do, but it is still not enough! And if that is not enough, then I don’t know what will be!”

Once again, the same twinges haunting me all morning had returned. Yet this time, they were stronger than ever. More mental images conjure themselves into existence.

The same mental images of the halls in my dreams, except more vivid. Ponies are standing alongside me travelling down the same hallway. Their figures are blended and lack color and shape. I cannot discern who or how many are with me.

But I remember opening that door alongside them. I remember opening it, and then… blinding light following afterward.

A headache pierces a tendril of pain behind my eye as I finish the memory. I groan as I rub my temples.

“But… there has to be something we can do, right?” Night Light asks again. She sounded so hopeful. It was almost naive. 

“We are doing all we can already,” I reply rubbing a hoof on my skull to soothe the headache, “they are questioning us as best they can, and they are going to put the pieces together themselves. There it falls onto more capable ponies than us to take care of the problem.”

“How does one take care of the problem that is a rogue Nuclear Bomb?”

Good question.

I scratched my head in thought. “Not sure. I can only assume that they will be diligent and careful. They have the resources and technology. So I see the possibility of them finding it relatively quickly.”

“... Sunshine,” Night Light begins with a disappointing shake of her head, “How many months has it been since the war ended?”

I blinked. After calculating the time in my head for a few seconds, “... Seven months?”

“Right. Seven months had passed, and they were only JUST now starting to interrogate us? About all of this?”

It dawned on me what she was trying to say. Seven months of time they spent, doing who knows what… and they still were not even close. In fact, it seemed like they just started investigating this.

“I see your point.”

“Right, so if they couldn’t find it in seven months—and even if we give them the benefit of the doubt that they are only just now finding out about us and our pasts—What chance do they have of finding it now with us?”

“... Hardly any,” I answered, “They would be finding a needle in a farm of haystacks.”

Night Light nods along with grim features, her frown almost permanently etched into her forehead.

“And we are supposed to be their best hope?”

I couldn’t answer. Moreso I was too afraid to. It dawned on me that this was somehow all tied to me… And I couldn’t finish what I started. 

I am reminded of my failure. And the cost of that failure will be paid in hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the blink of an eye.

Last night's memories return to me in a whiplash.

“... I failed.” 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

The front door pounded thrice as a muffled Stallion’s voice called out from outside, causing both of me and Night to jump in our seats.

“Sunshine Tempest and Night Light! We have a warrant to bring you into custody!”

Silence between me and Night Light as we both gazed at one another. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Please open the door!”

I heard a swallow from Night Light, gulping down saliva.

“That was faster than I expected,” she mumbles with acceptance and finality.

“We can’t expect us to even get an hour to ourselves, huh?” I asked with that same hint of bitterness that woke me up.

“Seems that way,” Night stands up, “but… what else is there to do?” she looks at me, hoping for an answer. A way out of this nightmare we were trapped in.

I could only offer back a deep sigh.

“I don’t know.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Night Light wordlessly trots toward the door. Her ears drooped back as she opened it to reveal the same suits that took us away yesterday. Even the color of their coats remained unchanged. It had to be the same individuals.

If they could even be called that.

“Give us a few minutes to prepare please, we will be out shortly.” Night Light requests with a polite tone, hinting at no resistance to their compliance.

“... you will have five minutes. Be out by then.” he nods to his buddy before they both turn away as Night shuts the door on them.

Another sigh, this time from Night Light, carries across the open living room and kitchen to my ears. She looks back at me with resigned eyes.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

“... No.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” She looked back at the closed door. “Will they separate us again?”

“... Probably.” the tonal indifference in my tone hid the exhaustion and dread I felt for what was to come.

I was about to confront the horrors of my past again, whether I wanted to or not.
> (A4) - Chapter 3: Traitor
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 4, Chapter 3: Traitor



“I would rather betray the world than have the world betray me.”






The scent of dew on leaves and blades of grass pervades the cool breeze billowing our manes like hoisted flags. The air of summer tickles my coat and supple skin, making my eyes squint as the sun assaults my vision. Night Light’s mane was billowing just as violently past mine, sitting in her buckled seat while leaning into me for comfort.

The chariot ride towards Canterlot was uneventful save for this small minute thought. Everything in time slowed down despite how fast we were going. We were just low enough below the cloud cover that the sun couldn’t warm us. The Pegasus River stretches from Canterlot to the edges of Las Pegasus, serving as a waypoint on where to go as the hanging city cloaked behind cloud cover.

Neither me, Night Light, nor our chauffeurs said a word along the way thus far. We had to be close by now. We had flown past the last vestiges of the Everfree Forest, and the clouds were starting to part from one another at greater distances. Soon, a giant patch of burnishing blue and grandiose gold from Celestia’s morning sky revealed the mountain ranges just beyond our sight. 

Hanging from the edges of these majestic peaks with its ancient foundations embedded into the earth was Canterlot once more, still as affluent and profuse as I remember. Amber and violet-hued domes—some of which blended concurrently like a smoothie—crowned the tops of the many towers looming over the skyline. Its pristine streets of smoothly cut colored Marble and Granite. 

Foundations of buildings elevated into four separate levels, the lower of which contained the majority of the population housed in. The higher echelons of the foundations hosted far fewer buildings. Until it eventually stopped at the Royal Palace of the Princesses. 

Some of the blocks in the lower quadrants were still under heavy construction. A reminder of the damage it had suffered during The Great War. 

I can’t remember where I heard this from. I distinctly remember a Canterlonian saying: ‘The higher up one goes in its levels, the more expensive but enriching the experience becomes.’

The Chariot began to slow down as it approached the first level of the foundations. Even from up high, I can still see where we were going. Our destination still stood out from the rest of the beautiful city like an ugly blemish.

That damn charcoal-colored pyramid still stood over the rest of its neighboring buildings with ease, many ponies venturing far away from it except those who worked there. Greeting us was an empty street in front of the main entrance that the chariot descended gingerly into. The wheels landed with a soft ‘thud’ as they came to a grinding halt in front of S.M.I.L.E. Agency.

I sighed, releasing a breath I never realized I was holding.

“... Are you gonna be okay?” I asked Night Lighty softly, leaning into her.

“I should ask you that. You got punched last time.”

“I promise to play nice. I won’t do anything stupid.” I reassured her. Her eyes lock on me for a few seconds before sighing, her gaze dropping as low as her ears.

“Okay then. Let’s go.” 

The suited ponies pulling the chariots waited for us to disembark, looking behind their backs wordlessly as they watched us getting out. As we got out, they soon nodded to each other before taking off forward again in a quick ascension.

“... They’re not escorting us?” I asked aloud in confusion.

“Guess not,” Night Light speaks from my left, my eyes still trained on the chariot disappearing from view. “But she might.”

Her tense words forced my gaze to look down, and I felt my blood run cold.

Bon Bon was advancing towards me with a deep scowl, her lips sealed with eyes narrowed. Behind her were two suited ponies with black square-rimmed glasses covering their eyes. 

They carried an aura of diligence and capability to them, ones that are not to be trifled with. And Bon Bon looked like she was just barely containing her fury at me.

I chose to stay quiet. Night Light opted the same, Bon Bon getting closer with each step.

She eventually stops just a meter in front of my face. I could hear her methodical breathing through the nostrils as her acrid stare chilled my soul.

For a few long, dreadful seconds of total silence, she was content to stare into my eyes and search within the inner crevices of my mind for any intrigue, discontent, and ulterior motives.

She found only a tired stare, unwilling to be scared anymore. 

After all, her stare was nothing compared to the fear of what we were trying to prevent.

“... Follow me. Both of you.” She spoke slowly and with stern authority in her tone. 

Something in my synapses flares up at those words. My limbs move without resistance.

Me and Night Light trot behind as she twisted around and marched back towards the pyramid. The agents flanking her trotted slowly behind, losing their pace just enough to get behind me and Night Light.

Another sensation of the neurons snapped, screaming at me.

Something isn’t right.

I gazed over at Night Light from the corner of my eyes, seeing her marching alongside me in a matching cadence. She looked more than anxious; she was downright terrified. 

She felt it, too. 

Both of us were unable to resist. It was something in the way she stood, the way she stared, the way she spoke. It was as if our brains had no choice but to obey.

She wasn’t just an interrogator. She was a veteran. 

But not from The Great War, oddly enough. 

A veteran of a different light 

We marched past the front gate, Bon Bon waving a badge at the guard in the booth as the latter waved us in. As we trotted past the barbed wire fences surrounding the prism-like structure, the brain screamed at me again.

Something isn’t right.

“... Is, uh,” I gently spoke up, carefully choosing my choice and tone of words, “Is… everything okay?” 

No response. No flinch. No twist in the neck. No passing acknowledgment of my words.

Soon, we were at the front doors leading inside the building, which had opened after Bon Bon once again brandished her ID Card.

Showing it to the security window off to the side, the guard inside also nods as the doors open to the sides with a smooth ‘swoosh.’

Inside was an airlock compartment that led to another pair of doors. Upon stepping inside, the doors behind us closed automatically. The air felt stiff here as if the atmosphere had gotten thicker.

Bon Bon stared blankly ahead. Her voice finally slips with a singular, atonal command.

“Now.” 

THWACK!

A cry of pain escapes my lips, following a heavy strike to the side of my head. I could see stars and blinking lights as I felt my body collapse to the ground in a heavy thud.

Thwack!

I heard another cry, from a familiar voice above me as I felt the floor tremble a little from another impact. I felt limbs poking and prodding and another momentous weight shoving me down further into the floor. 

I can’t see. My eyes ache in cadence to the headache-hurting too much to open. 

I can’t remember what happened, apart from the sensation of limbs dragging me off the floor.





My heavy eyelids lift themselves, but I strangely feel no sensation on my hooves as I try to stand up. Sensations are drowning in a half-dream.

The body has no command. I only remember craning my neck up. It’s hard to see. I can’t tell what is going on. 

A bright light shines from a hole in a wall, the sky illuminating the interior. The visions carry a forgotten memory.

I can only hear a horrid screeching sound, along with metal rupturing and tearing apart. 

I was surrounded—by rusted metal walls. One of which was blown open from something. I don’t know what caused it, but I feel like I should. 

I crane my head further upward. Sickly green energy is glowing above my head. I soon realized the same one from my dreams. 

I can’t help but feel an overwhelming premonition of fear blanket me, paralyzing me. 

My eyes lock into the center. The energy burning within grows darker in the center, expanding its borders with volatile luminosity. But the core is absent of light.

I see death. I see death befalling millions. 

I saw the death of cities. 

I saw the death of countries. 

I saw the death of worlds. 

I saw the death of everything.

And it stares. 

Eternity trembles back at me. 

As if in fear.

It wants to speak.

Words failed to form. 

But images manifest in front of me, embedded into this malevolent canvas of unbridled energy like a woven tapestry. 

Like patterns on a quilt, weaving through its seams to form a mural. Shapes began to change into images before my eyes.

Images of obelisks of glass and steel stretching into the heavens, perforations of grids overlapping grids, streets crossing streets. 

A concrete jungle stretching on a seemingly endless horizon.

Then, it is gone.

A bright light encompasses them. 

The monuments of civilization sunder into disintegrated atoms, a shockwave pulverizing the rubble that remained.

The brightness forces me to close my eyes. It’s as if someone is shining a lamp on my face.

Sensations are returning to me. The light is dimming to a cold pale. 

I can only remember my mouth speaking before it all disappeared, but no sound came out of it. 

Yet the word burns with a searing brand in my frontal cortex, screaming at me with an urge to remember.

Manehattan.





SPLASH!

“GAAGH—Ptft, sptfh Pfuaagh! F-FUCK!”

Ice-cold water splashes across my body, assaulting my nerve endings in freezing fire.

Nails are piercing and corroding my brain within the skull. I lift a hoof to pry them out, only to realize I cannot move any of them. 

The piercing migraine behind my eyes makes it hard to process what just happened. 

My body is shivering intensely from the cold and is somewhat in shock. I blink several times to remove the stinging liquid from my eyes and see a dull grey room with a lamp shining on my face.

Slosh!

“Ayiahagh—HACK! Hugkh!”

More of it dribbles down my arms and torso as collateral damage from the secondary onslaught next to me. My eyes drift to my right to see Night Light; bound, drenched, coughing, and shaking furiously with her wet bangs concealing her face.

That was when I noticed I, too, was bound. 

This time, all four appendages bind each other together in an elaborate web of cuffs. Painfully so, squeezing them over one another to avoid escape.

My vision returns. Me and Night Light are bound together side-by-side in a different interrogation room.

Here? It was pitch black, save for the very narrow beam of light shining down on only me and Night Light from a Lamp sitting on the table in front of us. My eyes scrunch painfully at its light, the brightness too much for them to handle.

I cannot see who else is in the room with me. Looking around only yielded darkness. Looking ahead punished me with a torrent of light against my burning pupils. 

The sensory overload was too much.

Between the morning fatigue, the dread of what’s to come later in the day, the migraine from the ambush, the shivers from the assault of water on my body, and the burning of the eyes from the blinding light.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” I screamed with a tenacity that I didn’t know I still had within. The demand bellows out, but I hear no reverberation of the echo. It was as if the entire room was in a vacuum, completely void of noise. 

Thump!

I feel a hoof from the darkness strike me just below my solar plexus, leaving me dazed, gasping for breath, and nauseous in the stomach. The pain was making my head swim.

“No, stop!” Night Light cries beside me, “Stop hurting her, please!”

“Fine,” I hear a cold feminine voice acknowledge her with indifference.

Ckoom!

“Gahgh!”

Tckoom!

“Hugh—Ugh-... HUEURAGH!”

Hearing Night Light vomit next to me drove me to action. I inhaled deeply, tears streaming from my eyes at the pain as I struggled to breathe oxygen in my system.

As the first gasps of fresh air trudged down the pipe into my lungs, a few words stumbled out my mouth in reflex.

“Fucking… Kill you…”

“Shut up!”

Thwack!

Another slam to the side of my torso knocked me off the chair, a searing blanket of pain covering my waist.

“Sit them back up!”

Hooves from the darkness hook beneath my body and hoist me up on the seat facing the lamp, my tortured body still unable to combat what is truly happening. 

It feels like I am in Tartarus. Being punished for my past crimes.

A sudden reprieve from the onslaught allowed my hearing to somewhat return. It still couldn’t shake over this… vacuum. Whatever kind of room we were in, it was one designed specifically to overwhelm the senses.

Or, at the very least, it was maybe designed to block out the screams of the tortured?

The latter was what my mind was going for at the moment.

I hear Night Light’s ragged breathing return to a somewhat normal pace as she too was lifted onto her seat. Soon both of us were panting, freezing, in pain, dazed, confused, and goddesses knew what else. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out I was suddenly poisoned.

I try to scrunch my eyes ahead at the bright lamp shining on my face. The pupils have somewhat adjusted to the sudden onslaught at this point and have assessed two certain facts that I can see.

Bon Bon is sitting in front of me, and she is not alone.

Standing beside her on both sides were probably the same agents that escorted and ambushed us inside the main airlock. Memories of what had transpired are all returning to me, and a cold wave of rage seethed in me.

It was tempered by the very sudden, and very real threat of retaliation if I tried to say anything. My lips sealed themselves shut.

I look over at Night Light, who was also gazing at me. Both of us made eye contact for a brief moment until we heard Bon Bon clear her throat ahead of us. Both of us instinctively gazed forward.

“Alright. Listen to me very carefully. Because I am not going to repeat myself. My friends here don’t know you two like I do, so they are kindly giving you one last chance.” 

She spoke in a completely different manner than she did yesterday. Whereas she was aggressive but somewhat forgiving she was now seemingly cold-hearted and impassable. A stone-walled facade of disciplined hyper-aggression, slowly stalking their prey until they pounce with killer intent. 

I remember the scowl on her features when she first approached us. How she sized us up. If I were to see the eyes now, I would expect them to carry a murderous look.

“You two are not going to speak until I say you are allowed. If you speak when you are not allowed to speak, I am going to hurt you badly.”

No reply. Me and Night Light stared ahead with shivering bodies and shaky breaths.

“You two are going to be asked some simple fucking questions that I want some simple fucking answers to. If you do not give me simple answers, I am going to hurt you badly.”

My brow furrows slightly. But still no reply from either of us.

“If you two try to lie to me, or deceive me, or trick me, or stall for time, or try any kind of stupid bullshit with me… What is going to happen, Sunshine?”

“... You are going to hurt me.” I quietly repeated.

“I am going to hurt you what? I am expecting precision here, Sunshine.”

“... Badly. You are going to hurt me badly.”

“That is right,” Bon Bon drones along, “Now Night Light, if you don’t give me what I want, or if you speak when not allowed, or if you step out of line in any way… What is going to happen?”

“Y-you are going to hurt me. Badly.” Night Light stutters, quickly catching on.

“That is right,” Bon Bon affirms in an almost sing-song voice. “Now that we are all on the same page here,” She stands up from the chair. 

A portion of her hooves is seen in the light as she uses them to support her weight on the table, but her face hides behind a cowl of darkness. 

“You two have a lot of fucking explaining to do.”

No response. My brow furrowed deeper to cover my vision from the light.

“Night Light,” Bon Bon’s gaze locks onto the former, “you in particular need to step up your game. From what I am hearing from Grim Hooves, you are slowgoing and inconsistent with your story thus far.”

My eyes stretched to the right, seeing Night Light tight-lipped and breathing at a haggard pace. Still dripping and shivering from the assault of ice-cold water.

“I bet you are probably wondering where Grim Hooves is right now, don’t you?” She asks directly. Night Light nodded mutely. 

“I-I am more so wondering why we are locked up in a box.” she stutters.

“Well, because he did a little research on you. Research based on what you told him. And you know what he told me after he was done comparing your notes, Night Light?”

Again, no words but rather vigorous shaking of the head.

“He told me that you were either a liar or a traitor.”

Silence.

My eyes were piercing through the side of Bon Bon’s temple, the latter paying me no mind as she was conducting a killer stare of her own against Night Light. 

“So tell it to me straight: Are you nothing but a liar? Or are you a traitor?”

They then dart back to the latter revealing her sitting stock still, face unmoving, and features paralyzed in fear.

I wanted to scream. To lunge at Bon Bon’s throat in instinct.

My mind screamed at me in defiance.

You know you can’t. And even if you could, what good would it do anyway? 

I ground my teeth together, waiting with bated breath as Night Light swallowed a tick chunk of saliva.

“I… I don’t know what you mean.” Night Light finally spoke, voice level and atonal.

SLAM!

Hooves slam the table from the darkness, instantly startling both me and Night Light as we jumped in our seats. 

The lack of reverberation and light in the room had failed to dull the impact of it. My hock joints clashed violently with the metal underside of the table as they jolted up. Wincing and struggling to move, I found myself in even more pain than before without even taking a hit.

But the impact did not come from Bon Bon. 

The force came from somepony lurking in the shadows, just outside of our view. Obscured by the cowl of primordial black surrounding us.

Bon Bon remained steel-faced, and unflinching in her resolve. Just as fast as the slam came, it disappeared into the dark. 

It took us a few seconds to calm the racing hearts in our chests with fast, shallow breaths.

“Night Light,” she starts, “remember what I just told you,” finishing with cold intention.

It wasn’t a question. It was a threat.

“Now, I am going to ask again: Are you a liar, or a fucking traitor?”

The atmosphere was suffocating. Nopony dared to make a sound for what felt like an ephemeral eternity.

My head remains still, but my eyes lock onto the bangs concealing Night’s face. She remained just as petrified as I was, breathing through her nostrils slowly to calm herself. 

Looking back at Bon Bon, she carried a facade of menacing calculation, tempered with impatience by the slow nature of the task at hoof. 

A ticking time bomb chasing another ticking time bomb, both of which could explode at a moment’s notice.

Eyes drifting back to Night Light, they see her hanging her head ever so slowly. Her ears droop down to her temples as she finally whispers.

“... I am a coward.”

A block of ice sank into my stomach upon hearing those words.

“What was that?” Bon Bon presses.

“I am a coward.” She repeats, a little louder.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It should.”

She speaks those two words with conviction. As if they were the most obvious puzzle pieces to put together. My heart flares up with sorrow and rage.

And put together the pieces, Bon Bon did. I could see her frown in the light, her gaze almost as dark as the shadows surrounding her. Almost.

“So you abandoned your comrades then. And you left them to die. And you admit to it by saying you are a coward?”

Silence. Night Light sags her head toward the table.

“Answer me.” Bon Bon commands.

I gave no effort to hide my curiosity anymore, twisting my head to see Night’s bangs cover the entirety of her face now.

“... Yes. I am a traitor, and I am a coward.”

Synapses flare.

“NO YOU ARE NOT!!” I screamed.

BLAM!

A Hoof knocks the wind out of me again, striking my stomach hard enough to send me toppling backward in the seat still tethered to it. My skull painfully connects to the concrete-like floor, the nails piercing my head from the migraine now searing it inside out.

I remember screaming. But I heard no sound from me. Only the sound of Night Light pleading.

Voices are muffled, though, it's hard to make everything out. I am hearing frantic shouting as well as tears being wailed. It feels like everything is underwater, and I am suffocating. 

My lungs tried to breathe, but they could only feel a burning agony just below the diaphragm. My brain tries to grasp reality, but I am seeing darkness along with a swinging, dancing light.

Hooves hook underneath me, hoisting me up to sit back upright.

I felt a painful prick in the side of my neck, along with a warm numbing fluid being fed intravenously directly into the bloodstream. The skull, just seconds ago throbbing with the worst headache I could remember, now being coated in a soothing blanket of warmth and healing.

It felt almost euphoric.

Sensations are returning to me one by one. I could feel myself still tethered to a cold, stiff metal chair with my hooves tied together in front of my waist. I could see dark shapes in the shadows morph into coherent silhouettes, resembling familiar ponies. I could hear the wails of anguish from Night Light as she sobs with a plight of guilt and mercy.

“Please stop, please stop…” She mumbles to herself between choking gasps. Droplets of tears splash the table. Two hooves from the dark reach out and grab hold of her neck gently, injecting the same fluidic substance that they fed me.

As the needle is finished and disappears from the light, Night's sobbing slows to shallow breaths. Those then lost their fast pace and eventually devolved to slower, deeper breaths of calming relief.

From pain to sorrow, to calm, to slight euphoria. All in less than a minute. 

My thoughts were getting groggy and strangely heavy, but they came through with a sudden clarity that I never acquired before. In a few flashing spasms of lights and images blurring about in my cortex, I could see a few repressed memories of my youth pass by. 

Days of me kicking pebbles down the streets.

Days of me throwing rocks at lakes.

Days of me flying above clouds to see how high I could go before tiring.

They left as quickly as they arrived. Like a speeding train carrying cars of memories. The youth disappeared beyond the pale, down further the track is soared upon. Never to be seen again.

Vision returns to me, and I see Bon Bon sitting in front of us as both I and Night Light eventually calm down. The pain of the headache was still somewhat there, but I could at least think without struggling to.

Maybe that was the point? Some kind of truth serum?

“Feel better?” Bon Bon asks in a sing-song voice, mockingly as if she were a mother trying to coddle children.

“Wha… did you feed us?” Night Light slurred.

“Just some anesthetic. And a little concoction we created here at home, designed specifically to counter liars. Like you.”

The facade eventually broke down to a not-so-well-hidden wrath.

“But I am going to take your word for it Night Light. You are both a coward and a traitor, fine.” She rolls her eyes, “But what I want to know is how.”

“... How what?” She dared to ask.

“How were you able to stay in the game as long as you did? How were you able to do so despite all that you had done? How were you able to convince your squad that you were fit to lead? How were you able to stomach the fact that you left your comrades in arms to die to save your skin?”

Silence. Each accusation that was thrown at Night Light was met with no resistance, no counterclaim. Nothing but a surrendering acknowledgment. 

I looked on in horror. Each of these were accusations and horrid misdeeds that I would have never associated with Night Light before. And all of them were met with no refusal.

It is true. All of it is true. And she could not be more ashamed of it all.

Tears started to pool in my eyes. I ached for her.

“And you,” her gaze then locks onto mine with a blighted tone. 

“You are not exempt from blame either—Each time you stall, or distract us with semantics, or drone on and on about how you feel about everything—that is time that we have wasted when it could have been spent protecting Equestria. And I am done!”

She growls the last word as she starts to lean over me.

“I am done with you fucking around with this stupid petty bullshit. I am done with you trying to think you are above consequences. I am done with you playing this bullshit ploy of amnesia.”

She pauses for a breath, sinking her head for just a second before relocking eye contact.

“I know you told me yesterday that you would have told me where the bomb was by now, but here is the catch Sunshine,” She leans forward.

“I know you’ve been lying to us as well!”

Staring back in a defiant scowl, I spoke the next words through gritted teeth.

“Have I now?”

Bon Bon looks off to the side and gives one swift nod. 

A hoof from the darkness once again reaches out. It took all the vestige of my strength left to not flinch at the sight of it.

But instead of striking us or the table again, it delivered a manilla folder that was packed with papers. It looked thick enough to contain a novel’s worth of words.

Without a sound, Bon Bon places the folder on the table and opens it to gingerly inspect its contents, a far cry compared to what she acted like just minutes ago. She was meticulous and deliberate in her movements, suddenly flipping through page after page. 

She finally pulled a series of documents stapled together with black and white photography inside. Pulling open the first page reveals a small Polaroid picture. 

She slides it towards me. As I leaned into the photograph to inspect it, Bon Bon began reading from the stapled stack.

“June 12th, 1014—You and your squad return from Hjortland after the raid to warn Canterlot of the upcoming attack it will suffer. You flew from Hjortland to Vanhoover, before catching a plane towards Las Pegasus. 

“There, you were boarded on an express train to Canterlot that arrived just two days later. All and all, the entire journey from Olenia to Equestria took three days, with two left to spare.”

My eyes widened and my heart quickened its pace as I saw the contents of the photograph.

“There, you met and talked with Princess Celestia herself.”

In black and white, standing regal and tall, with majesty and grace in her posture. The flowing mane and tail are frozen in time in suspended remembrance. Her eyes were tired, staring ahead with sagging greyish bags that contrasted the foreground of her alabaster coat, betraying her fatigue and her resolve. But despite the toll she took, she still carried that same smile that she wore for her ponies to see.

It betrayed her as well. The smile was not what it used to be. She was not what she used to be.

I stared at the photo for a long while, while Bon Bon continued to read off the stapled stack before me.

“During this talk, you made sure that Celestia herself was aware of what was to come and gave her ample time to prepare for the upcoming attack. It was during these talks that she was finally familiar with your mission and what you are trying to do. And it is during these talks that she finally recognized you as ‘Heroes of Equestria,’ giving you each the “Royal Seal of Valorous Diligence.

“... And the attack never came.”

I looked up, brow arched. 

“You wouldn’t know because you were transferred to Las Pegasus on a plane that afternoon on June 12th. As for why you were transferred there? I will get to that in due time.”

I frowned as she continued to flip through the stapled stack.

“Night Light,” she suddenly pivoted to a new target, “Based on what you told Grim Hooves yesterday, it is safe to assume that you and your ‘Garuda’ Squadron were the sole nemesis to both the Strigon Squadron and Aigaion. Am I to assume that is also a lie?”

Night was quiet for a while, before answering with a low voice. “... That is true, yes.” 

“And am I to assume that these ‘Strigons’ were also present in Las Pegasus as well?” She pressed knowingly.

Again, there was hesitance before she answered. “... Yes.”

“Alongside the Aigaion?”

“Yes.”

“And you fled? Alongside with your wing ponies?”

No reply at that time. And no amount of hesitance would change her mind.

“... I was told to.”

“... You were… told… to retreat and abandon the airspace?” Bon Bon asked in jaded disbelief.

Again, no reply…

“That doesn’t matter, Night Light. You still abandoned your comrades. You abandoned several squadrons to fight for themselves as you fled away like cowards... As you said.”

“...”

“And you dare to say that somepony told you to do that?!” she asks with a poorly masked rage.

Night Light’s bangs concealed her face, but I could tell. She was doubtful of herself. 

“... Like I said, Night Light, you are either a liar or a traitor. But now? I am starting to believe you might be both.”

No response. Night Light hangs her head in defeat.

My mind travels back to last night, listening to her tell me the story of her cheating death over Mead Lake. How she evaded everything thrown at her and miraculously made her way home.

But this? It was a complete contrast to that story in every way.

“... I am not a traitor.” Night Light suddenly speaks up. 

“Come again?” Bon Bon challenges with a raised brow barely visible in the shadow.

“I am a coward, but I am not a traitor!” She speaks up louder, with indignance.

“I am sure you are, but the fact remains Night Light. You abandoned your-”

“I AM NOT A TRAITOR!”

The lack of echo in her scream diminishes its power somewhat. But the way she spoke the words left Bon Bon wordless for a few short moments.

“I fought for Equestria! Just like everypony else! I never stopped fighting for her! I never stopped trying to defend her! I never wanted to leave her behind!”

The outburst left Night Light panting, failing to compose her breathing as she awaited for swift punishment.

But nothing happened.

Bon Bon stared quietly at Night Light, both locking eye contact with one another for a long while.

“The fact remains.” Bon Bon answers coldly. Slowly. “You. Left.”

No response from Night.

“But… I admit, I am digressing.” She shakes her head. “Night Light’s… Cowardice,” she speaks in disgust, venom dripping from her tone. “It is not important.

“What is important is finding that bomb right here, today. No more Bullshit. And no more stalling.” She trades looks with both of us until she eventually stops at me.

“Sunshine. Let’s start with you, shall we?” She fakes a friendly tone. “Why don’t you start with your meeting with Princess Celestia? Remember as to why you were transferred to Las Pegasus afterward?”

“... I was ordered to. By Celestia.” I admitted in a quiet tone.

“Correct. We need to know why.” 

I arch a brow once more. “Why not ask her, yourself?”

“Celestia doesn’t lay privy to S.M.I.L.E. asking her questions about the war. She is adamantly refusing to go into details about it, as of right now. And Luna was not present in this meeting as well, nor was any other Princess. So this task falls onto you, as the sole survivor of your squad you served with who was in that room at the time. She ordered you to go to Las Pegasus… Why?”

Here we go. You knew this would happen and there is no stopping it now. It’s time to confront your past once again.

I sighed.

“And I assume you want me to be short, direct, and get straight to the point?”

“You learn quickly.” Bon Bon spoke with a mocking reverence.

I look to my right. For once, Night Light’s Bangs were no longer concealing her features. Revealing a timid, but enraptured curiosity. Not too dissimilar from the curiosity she had from last night.

Except this time, I was going to tell her all my worst days. If not now, then sooner rather than later.

Words form in my head effortlessly, as if someone were whispering to me.

Time to remember why you forgot.
> (A4) - Chapter 4: Shadow of the Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 4, Chapter 4: Shadow of the Sun



“Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.”







Hjortland, June 9th, 1014. Time Unknown


Everything seemed slowed to a crawl after discovering Aigaion. 

After the fight, Marja assured us the pony battalions still in the city would be given shelter and aid. They would also have the backing of Olenia’s resistance cells to help in their endeavors. In return, the ponies would fight side-by-side against their mutual enemies. I imagine it was their way of showing thanks after all that happened. 

It was during this talk that Marja personally congratulated us for a job well done inside the Royal Palace. 

Guilt wracked my nerves for what was to come. 

Hjortland had days—maybe a week at best—until the Changelings would come crashing down on them. The ponies had found themselves completing phantom objectives, still unaware that they were scapegoats on our behalf. And though we had secured the port into the city with minimal damage, it would still take days' worth of repairs for it to be operational again. 

And what then? Would Equestria even keep its word about sending aid?

It wasn’t lost on me that I essentially took part in a suicide mission. One that I had no reasonable chance of winning. And yet, we found ourselves blindly stumbling into another conspiracy in the making. For once we had a chance to do real work, instead of chasing ghosts. 

All from the result of an accidental miracle facilitated by the Olenians.

Marja was busy congratulating us, calling us newfound heroes as Brass stepped forward to clear her throat. My heart dropped into my stomach. 

Brass then dropped the biggest bombshell of information Marja heard so far.

“We weren’t in Hjortland for Olenia’s sake. We weren’t even supposed to make it this far.”

Confusion, at first. Marja asked if it had something to do with the ‘weapon’ we were pursuing.

Brass confessed reluctantly that it had everything to do with it.

From there, she confessed all that had happened. 

About why we were here; How we found the bombs in Vanhoover; How there was one missing; How we were supposed to find it; How we were meant to complete this daring operation by ourselves; How we essentially left our brethren to their fates, condemning them to die; How we would’ve been another statistic of a suicide mission.

All because of a breadcrumb trail leading us into a downward spiral.

As Brass explained the insanity of the situation we were in, realization slowly crests my mind until it dawns with a clarifying radiance. Brass seemed to have understood it too, given her articulate and hollow-sounding words to Marja.

“We were expected to fail. We were never meant to get this far.”

But that didn’t make any sense either! Why would they send us on this suicidal hunt if they knew we would fail? Why would they be so willing to send entire divisions to their doom for something they can’t even verify exists?

Throughout Brass's confession, I had this lingering thought that we were still not seeing the bigger picture. Something was missing to make the pieces fit. And I didn’t know what.

I still don’t know, to this day.

Confusion morphed into rage, yet Marja didn’t say a single word. Her scowl pierced through our excuses like a hot knife through paper mâché. She understands the truth, putting the ill-fitting pieces together in her head rather quickly. Marja understands our odds were stacked against us. Brass understands we were supposed to die. Both mutually agree that the chances of our success—let alone our survival—were minuscule at best.

Brass eventually concludes that we came to Hjortland because it was the best lead we got. And in doing so, we unraveled another plot by pure chance. One that is potentially more dangerous.

Rage morphs into stunned silence as Marja parses this deluge of information. For a while, there was no response. Only a quiet contemplation. When she finally did speak, she asked us what we would do now.

Heading to Canterlot to stop Aigaion, was Brass’s response. We would leave that night.

Marja, of course, wasn’t happy at all. Her rage never truly subsided, only sidelined. She seemed to be seething on the inside at our apparent betrayal. And yet, despite all of it, we had found something that was not just a threat to Equestria. But a threat to the continent as a whole should the worst come to pass.

Stunned silence morphs into a reluctant resolution as a painful vice grips my heart. Marja stays true to her word about harboring Equestrians, giving aid and shelter. And she hesitantly commends our integrity in confessing our true intentions, even if our tactics were underhoofed.

 It didn’t justify the guilt of what we had done though, and why we were here. I knew that.

And I think Marja knew this too. Because she had a request for us.

Of course she would. 

It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. If we were to go back to Canterlot, Marja humbly (and by that I mean threateningly) asked us to make a promise to her. Should we go through with this, we had to warn Celestia not only of the Aigaion but of Olenia’s dire situation as well. Lest we wish for her people to forever distrust and shun us for all that happened.

Not just from today, but for the past decade. How Equestria turned its back on Olenia in their time of need.

Brass agreed, as did the rest of us, seeing it was the least we could do after all they had done for us. Marja also promised to bury the body of Pumpkin Patch with full military honors after recovering what was left of him. Hearing that promise put me at ease, though I won’t get to see him being buried. In a strangely grim sense though, I preferred it that way. Knowing his remains were safely preserved was good enough, for me.

But I digress. That promise we made to Marja would have to wait for Canterlot. And we still had a long ways to go…






Western Equestria, June 10th, 1014. Time Unknown


Bon Bon wasn’t wrong when she said it would take a few days to go from Hjortland to Canterlot. The last time I saw Hjortland was a chaotic and confusing scene. We had the head start in the race against time to prevent a catastrophe, one that we intended to win. Looking back that night we saw Olenia’s capital lit alight with fireworks and distant combat as we flew away.

Hours had passed. It was an exhausting flight back across Vanhoover Bay. Memories of me flying to the city months prior were still engraved in my cortex. I remember the feeling of hot coals searing the bottom of my lungs throughout the flight. This was no different, and I loathed it. The only difference was I was more acclimated to it by now, though that thought provided only a little comfort.

The flight lasted no more than three hours with just the seven of us. We had arrived during the darkest period of the early morning when the moon was nowhere to be seen and the sun was minutes away from rising. By the time we arrived at Vanhoover, it was dawn on the 10th of June.

So much had changed over the months since we were there last. When we first found the nuclear bombs, the fighting across Equestria had shifted into a static war of attrition, one that seemingly had no end in sight. 

One side was focused on bleeding the other dry against an endless pool of reserves, and the other hurled itself into the impenetrable works of various redoubts and fortresses across the continents. Both sides were desperate to end the stalemate.

It wasn’t too different nowadays ever since we liberated Vanhoover. The salient we had opened up relieved some of the pressure on the frontlines, but not enough to warrant a grand liberation from Equestria. 

The effects were mostly apparent on the western coast; many Changeling divisions retreated northbound through the railways of occupied Tall Tale and Salt Lick City, leaving the fronts open to an offensive. They planned to reinforce Tall Tale and surround the salient of Vanhoover.

Which was exactly what Equestria hoped to happen. Hundreds of kilometers of land were liberated from the Changelings in the span of a few weeks. From the edges of Mead Lake to the outskirts of Tall Tale. Although not a grand liberation like Equestria initially promised, news of this victory was no doubt sorely needed for the minds and hearts of the ponies back at home.

The journey by plane from Vanhoover took no less than 6 hours to get back to our side of the lines in Las Pegasus, where we soon landed at a local airfield to take an express train to Canterlot. Maybe not an entirely safe trip, but we did not run into any trouble along the way. I counted my blessings on that small victory.

When we landed at Las Pegasus, the seven of us were expecting to ride in a cramped cargo car that was not designed to fit ponies. But no, instead, we rode in a first-class passenger car that screamed ‘opulent’ to me. 

I had scarcely thought trains like this still existed after all that had happened the past few years, and yet here my eyes saw the luxurious caboose proving me wrong. There were bouncy cushions coated in thick painted leather, sitting behind finely carved tables of mahogany and oakwood that hosted trays of various delicacies. 

On these trays were bottles of Prench Champagne, decades-old Aquilean Wine, and various kinds of cheese coming from all across Griffonia alongside some crackers. There was even a bar table that stretched along the car. A lean-looking Stallion who was well-mannered and spoke little was serving us as the bartender.

All of us were skeptical. But we eventually found ourselves passing the time and enjoying what was offered to us. The bartender encouraged us to relax and let loose; ‘even the finest soldiers of Equestria deserve to let loose now and then,’ as he said. 

Rain Drop was the first to break the ice, followed by Syringe. Both began ordering many Apple-Acres Cider mugs and Bourbon shots from Bales. They even tried sipping on some wine. Soon the rest of us found ourselves idly enjoying various treats and beverages. 

Some of us were sitting together in one cubicle of seats that were not big enough to fit us all. The rest found an idle stool on the bar they occupied while ordering drinks. Rain Drop was always seen there, never leaving it.

Speaking of which, it was a rainy day during the train ride back. Droplets of water dotted the windows, obscuring part of our vision that hid an overcast sky looming with a depressive gloom. 

Not many things to look at outside except for rolling plains and farmlands rushing past us settled beneath smooth peaks of towering mountains. Droplets raced one another down the window sill, some of them flung off at high speeds. The tracks steamed eastward in a straightforward pattern, no looming turns or detours were ever hinted at as the locomotive chugged along a damp, muddy landscape. 

It felt calming to look at the monotony of it all. I had always loved the rain but hated being in it.

It seemed to be lighting up as we went further east. But it would be another day or two until we arrived at Canterlot. The whole train ride was not particularly eventful, save for the initial surprise at how luxurious it was. 

None of us had hardly spoken to one another. I sat in a cubicle hosting me, Syringe, Brass Screws, and Morning Dew. The rest sat on their stools. The four of us sat together in an awkward silence. Some of us traded glances with one another, only to look away when we caught each other doing so.

I mean… what was there to say? ‘Gee, I’m glad we are still alive!’ ‘I guess things are looking up!’ It felt silly to even attempt any small talk. None of us were in a talkative mood. The only words spoken were orders for more drinks and food from the Bartender, acknowledged by a mute nod.

For the longest time, the quiet awkwardness had ruled with an iron grip. As tense as the atmosphere was for what was at stake, nopony found the energy or desire to make small talk. 

I traded one last scan across the table. Syringe sat next to me, Morning and Brass also sitting next to one another. Both pairs sat crunched together as the journey felt like it slowed to the rate of molasses despite the speed we were going. 

“... Just to make sure,” Syringe finally pipes up from my right, “We did collect the package, right?”

“Of course,” Brass confirms as Morning nods beside her.

“I have it in my bags,” the latter leans back with a reassuring shadow of a smile.

“Good. And… as for the other?” She asks reluctantly.

 A painful vice grips my heart.

“Sunshine has it,” Brass answers for me.

“... Good.” 

The saddlebags felt heavier than they should. The knowledge of what burden I bore inside them as I journeyed as far as I had weighed on my consciousness every waking second. 

A reprieve from this responsibility would come once I reached our destination. And at the moment, it seemed so far away despite how close we were.

“... Hey, Morning,” Syringe suddenly pipes up, “You said you had family in Canterlot right?”

Caught off-guard by the question, she gives a nervous sigh.

“Y-Yeah. My mother and father.”

“What are they like? If you don’t mind me asking.” Syringe asked with caution.

It took her off guard for only a second before Morning scratched her chin in thought. “Well, before the war, they helped each other run a tailor shop. But last I saw them, they had to sell their business to make ends meet.” She answers with a reserved tone. “They told me they would be fine, and they were more worried about me than anything else. But… I don't know, I think it still hurts them to lose their life’s work like that.”

Her words were slathered in a coat of sorrow. A reminder of what was at stake, and what had been lost. The train car rolling took over the soundscape for a few seconds.

“... My condolences for them, Morning.” Brass nodded, her voice reserved. “I hope they are okay.” 

“Me too,” Syringe agreed, “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay. I honestly don’t mind talking about it. It just... it makes me homesick when I do, that's all.”

“Hm.” Brass hummed.

“You think you’ll get a chance to talk to them while we are over there?”

Morning must have never thought of the possibility before. Her face lit up in hopeful curiosity at Syringe’s question. But only for a moment as she gives a bitter sigh and a sad frown.

“No, I don’t think so. I doubt they will give us leave. And…” she trailed off rubbing a hoof on her withers, “last time we talked we argued a lot and kinda finished on a sour note. So... I don’t know if they still want to talk to me after all this time.”

“I’m sure they would,” I felt my mouth compulsively speak. I was surprised at my sudden initiative for a split second before I continued without hesitation. “No parent wants to let go of their child that much.” 

I thought back to my father, who always cared for me growing up. And how he is gone. A twinge of emotion I learned to suppress for a long time threatened to swell in my eyes again. 

“I’m sure they wouldn’t care what you said to them last time. They would still want to see you.” I finished, blinking the tears away before anypony noticed.

“... I guess.” Morning still sounded unsure. “Still though, I don’t think my family takes priority over this.” She pats her saddlebags emphatically. “But, we’ll see. What about you Syringe?” Morning turns to her. “You have any family, I hope?”

“Some, yeah,” Syringe answered quickly, clutching her mug of Cider. “... They were decent enough.”

Bitterness grated her voice. 

“... Bad History?” Morning dared to ask.

“A bit.”

My ears droop as I reminisce on a conversation between me and Syringe in the past.

They were a good family... It didn’t last long, though.

“Sorry,” Morning disengages with a slow lean back against her seat, eyeing the window that showed a depressing-looking Equestria. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine,” Syringe interjected. “I’m over it, I just don’t wanna reminisce.”

“Fair enough,” Morning nods, “Brass?”

“What? My family?” She asks with a huff as if she was hoping she would be ignored.

“Yeah. Just trying to pass the time. What were they like?”

“... Good folks,” she reluctantly answered, following a sip of water. “Not much to be said. I was an only child too. They worked in Manhattan’s Steel Mills for a long time. Didn’t get to see them much except for dinner and when they tucked me in bed. I usually hung outside of my home most days.”

Morning looked on, expecting more. Only for Brass to shake her head. “Like I said, not much to be said. But they were still good to me, so that’s all that matters.”

“... Where are they now?” 

“Staying in Manehattan, probably. If they were smart. I followed in my dad’s hoofsteps and worked in the mills for a long while. That was how I got my cutie mark.” She looks down at her side reverently. “He’s probably still there now.”

“Neat. I got mine because I came up with a cure for mildew in my mother’s garden.” Morning pivots to a different topic. 

My ears perked at that, thankful for the subject change from families for now. “Wait, I thought you said your parents ran a tailor shop?”

“They do, but my mother had a small garden of flowers she would tend to in the spring. One time I saved her garden from a mildew outbreak in her plants. Got my mark since then.”

“I got mine from medical school.” Syringe segwayed atonally as if it wasn’t anything special. “I was the only one in my class who scored flawlessly on their final, and that was when it appeared. Didn’t notice it until somepony pointed it out the next day.”

“Wait, you scored a perfect score? In Medical School? I thought that was impossible!” Morning asked with a hint of astonishment.

“I guess not,” Syringe answered with a smirk.

“I… wow. That sounds like it was insanely difficult.”

Syringe gives a bitter sigh, the smirk dissipating instantly. “It was. Studying for that damn thing gave me many migraines.”

A wayward hoof of mine stretched out and sympathetically patted Syringe a couple of times on her shoulder. She nods in approval of the gesture.

“And you, Sunshine?” Morning asks.

My heart skipped a beat. “What, you mean my cutie mark?”

“Yeah.” She simply answered, waiting expectantly as all eyes were on me.

I swallowed a thick band of saliva.

“Uh, well,” I felt my heart beat slightly faster. “This is gonna sound embarrassing, but… I don’t know; what my mark means or where it came from.” 

No reaction. Only dumbfounded stares. Syringe was the first to speak. “Wh-what do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I know what it looks like and all, I just…” I blubbered the words in my mouth for a few seconds. Eventually, I gave up with a sigh. “I don’t know what it means. Or why I got it. And nowadays, I don’t think I will ever know. So at this point, I don’t care for it.”

“Do you remember where and when you got it?” Morning attempts to narrow down. 

“Only that I remember waking up in bed one morning, and it just sorta happened. Nopony knew what caused it. And to this day I kinda just went with it.”

Awkward silence reigned for a few seconds until Syringe cleared her throat.

“... So, wait, let me get this straight: you have a cutie mark, of which you don’t know where you got it, how you got it, or what it could mean. And you just sort of… lived with it?”

“What do you even do for a living?” Morning piles on, “Like, what is your talent? Were you good with the weather?”

“How’s that even possible?” Brass spoke aloud, more to herself than to me.

I felt heat rising to my cheeks as I gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, I am just as confused as you are, and I wish I had the answers to your questions. But the fact of the matter is I just don’t know. I have been pondering about it all my life and I don’t have an answer.”

Their eyes were fixed on me, all of them ravenous in curiosity. I gazed down at the table. The heat on my cheeks dissipated, but the sense of shame remained.

“See? I told you: Embarrassing.” I mumbled.

I felt a hoof pat me on the back. I look up to see Syringe, unsmiling, lending a hoof out to reassure me. 

“I understand how you feel, believe it or not.” She frowns. “Too well. Had some ponies I cared for who were like that as well. Don’t let it discourage you from living life to the fullest.” She looks out to the window, “Especially in times like this.”

Again, her words echoed back to me from a memory.

I knew ponies who grew up their entire lives without Cutie Marks.

I looked to my left; Morning and Brass nodded and shrugged respectively. Turning back to Syringe, I gave a shuddering sigh. Letting go of a breath I didn’t realize was being held.

“Thanks, I guess.” My voice muttered, not sure what else to say. It made me feel somewhat better about the circumstances, granted. 

But only a little, and only for a short time.

I gazed outside at the scenes zipping past me. Various hamlets, farmhouses, and villas with pastures and gardens to look after had sped by, with hardly any time to enjoy the fleeting majesty that warranted a gaze upon them.

Poppy fields were blooming past us, even in the torrential downpour. It wasn’t vibrant, but even still, it held beauty that begged to be admired. 

A tiny smile crept to my lips. Just as fleeting as this landscape was, so too were these moments of respite. Maybe it was melodramatic of me, but it felt good to think about how far we had come, to enjoy whatever life that remained with us. However fragile it seemed.

And yet, just as fast as the landscape zooms past the window, so too did the novelty of the moment come and go in a blur.






Canterlot, June 12th, 1014. 14:33 CST


Princess Celestia.

Shepherd of the Sun, Guardian of Harmony, Diarch of Equestria, Godmother of Ponykind, Queen of the Unicorns, Commander of the Pegasi, Chancellor of the Earth Ponies, Princess of Canterlot.

Admittedly, I could not remember all the titles bestowed on her at the top of my head. Only the most recognizable ones stood out. If one were to collect and record all of the titles and deeds held by her, they could fit a novella’s worth of words inside. 

Nopony knew exactly how old she was. Myths and legends surrounding the origin of the Alicorns remained flexible over time. Even Celestia herself is unsure of her age, but it is understood by the general public that she was at least over a millennium given her banishment with Nightmare Moon. With possibly more centuries hidden beneath at the bare minimum.

It dawned on me, there and then, what I was about to do. 

Princess Celestia is arguably the most beloved and important creature in the world. The common creature idolizes her, monarchs and nobles alike envy her status and gravitas, and tyrants and monsters still respect the power her name possesses, despite her seemingly serene visage. She is the closest to a living goddess that many in this world can look up to, a motherly deity that many can hope would nurture them through an uncertain future.

And I was about to meet her.

My squad and I trotted at a brisk pace towards the Grand Staircase leading deeper into the keep. My heart paced in my chest at what was to come. We were escorted by a Quaternion of guards donned in golden plate armor carrying modern weaponry. The echoes of their metal hooves carried across the empty halls.

Hardly any servants were seen. Only the soldiery remained; stoic-faced guards standing upright in various stations across the halls that stared evenly into space, carrying bolt-action rifles. It is a strange sight of the old combining with the new. They looked like breathing statues.

As we neared our final destination, my mind traveled back to my previous encounter with one of the Alicorns. 

In my first deployment to the Ruby Mountains, I had seen a passing glance of Princess Luna from a distance. And though I wasn’t up close, I could still see the grace and majesty her posture and presence inspired. 

No words describe how one would feel in her presence, for they paled to what she entailed.

I can only remember sensations; Awe, joy, fear, hope. Like a cocktail of colors coursing my veins. It had left just as fast as it had arrived. Like a brand brief in its time, it leaves a powerful impression on you forever.

To physically look up to a (potential) living goddess in person is a rarity already. But to converse with them?

Within each of the Diarchs of Equestria lies a seed of consciousness, no larger than a single grain of malt. They contained a millennia’s worth of experience and knowledge within dense singularities of mostly forgotten memories. Memories of great joy and great sorrow, bubbling in an airtight cauldron more ancient than the oldest mountains that stood since the beginning of time immemorial. 

Despite what Celestia had witnessed—her sister’s banishment, and all the millennia of strife and isolation that would drive any other creature mad—she had retained her sanity against all odds. She stood tall as a motherly figure guiding her wayward children through the struggles of life. 

At least, that’s what I was led to believe. Throughout all my life I had heard fairy tales and non-fictional accounts of the deeds of Celestia. She is claimed to be so powerful in magic that she could annihilate entire mountain ranges with a single spell without breaking a sweat. 

But were any of these allegations true? I wasn’t so certain, but I was about to find out for myself.

“We are here,” one of the guards breaks me out of my stupor. 

I shook my head, finding myself standing in an open hallway that hosted large stained-glass windows overlooking the inner citadel of Canterlot Keep. The Quaternion stopped us just shy of two towering doors in varnished Cedarwood, with vibrant streaks of violet and gold painted over the emblazoned solar emblem of Celestia. A mural of a sun dawning, with the night as its backdrop.

No words were spoken. One guard of the door nods to another, the former tapping his hoof on the door thrice for whoever was on the other side. With a groan that sounded softer than I was expecting, the doors slid inward. A voice booms from beyond the doors in a staged, ceremonious tone.

“Presenting the heroes of the Cloudsdale Land Division; Pegasi from the 1st Commandos Regiment!”

“Enter,” A tired voice echoes across the throne room.

My ears perk.

Celestia’s voice was familiar. I can remember certain radio broadcasts in the past where she would speak to us. Every time she spoke, she carried a tone of benevolence and patience in the face of unwavering animosity.

But here? There was no such benevolence to be found, no love to be heard. Only cold acknowledgment.

It did not sound like the motherly tone that I had remembered at all.

As the seven of us traded wary looks with one another, we cautiously trotted across the crimson carpet of velvet. At the end of this long hall was our final destination. Stained glass windows flanked our sides as we continued, detailing a picturesque history of Equestria. Starting from the unification of the Three Tribes, and ending at the recent history of the Six Element Bearers.

My eyes could only trade passing glances at them, as they were fixated on one individual.

Princess Celestia’s billowing mane and tail were seen gently weaving through the air like a careless gust of wind. Her posture was upright and stiff, her wings unfurled as she looked down on us from beneath her chin. Each wing stretched up to five meters, her horn taller than her neck. Her barrel was defined yet slender, slim yet built.

But her frown betrayed any notion of nurture and guidance. Her eyes stiffened to a contemptuous gaze, with a stare that could petrify even the most fearless of creatures. Her brow furrowed deeper as we got closer. Her pupils were dilated and stern as she measured each of us in a manner of seconds.

A screaming premonition in my brain informs me that all the rumors and predictions surrounding Celestia’s power and magical prowess were very much true, and not exaggerated.

A cold chill trembles my body. I suddenly felt tiny in her presence.

Our group stopped just shy of the steps to the throne. There was a moment of silence between us, Celestia waiting for us to speak our piece with her cold eyes. Brass Screws was the first to make a move, bowing her head gracefully to the floor where her face almost touched the carpet.

Soon, each of us felt compelled to do the same. As we all bowed to the Princess of the Sun in greeting, the latter bowed back in kind.

“Princess Celestia,” Brass Screws began as she lifted her head from the floor, “my name is Brass Screws, Sergeant 1st Class. I speak for the ponies you see before you.”

“So I see,” Celestia finally speaks, her voice like sharp cobblestone grating skin. 

My ears flick at her tone. Again, it did not sound warm or motherly at all.

“I hear you bring me news. A warning of what is to come? My advisors thought this to be more important than talking with my sister.”

There was disdain in that voice. Acidic, and corrosive to the ears.

“That we do,” Brass nods resolutely, seemingly unphased, “but before we do, we have a request we humbly ask of you.”

This got her to raise a brow in skepticism, tilting her head to the side at an angle. 

“What kind of request?” she asks with grating impatience.

Brass turns behind her, nodding to me. 

My heart sank to my stomach and I understood with perfect clarity what to do. The Princess’s eyes locked onto mine for a second before I darted my head down and quickly got to work.

Shrugging off a saddlebag, there was a brief moment of me digging out a crumpled and dirty pile of clothing with my hooves before gently dropping it to the floor. Spreading it out, it was revealed to be a purple uniform of the Equestrian Army.

Specifically, Pumpkin Patch’s Uniform.

It had barely survived the trip back to Equestria. When fighting ended in Hjortland Palace, Brass made it a priority we recover whatever we could from his remains. His uniform was badly tattered, caked with blood, stained with waste, and smelled of old copper with a hint of urine. But for the most part, it was still in one piece. It carried his name on the back collar of his shirt, as well as his rank insignia on his shoulders.

I carefully folded up the remains of the uniform into a neat pile, holding it gingerly with my wingtips as I carefully trotted forward to the bottom of the staircase. I plant it down at the base, like a tribute to a grave.

As I retreated into the group, silence reigned supreme in the halls. Celestia says nothing but stares down at the neatly folded uniform with her brow still anchored above her eyes.

“We wish to give our fallen comrade a proper burial with military honors.” Brass solemnly broke the silence. “And we also request their families are honored, given benefits from the government to compensate for their loss and sacrifice.”

Again, that silence overtook the throne room. A brief period of contemplation.

I dared to look up at Celestia’s face. She looked down through her muzzle. But beneath that stare of gravitas, there was a shift in the eyebrows. The stare had shifted into a look of brief sorrow. 

It made her look strangely mortal for a few seconds. Perhaps she was?

“What was their name?” she asked softly, but loud enough for her voice to echo across the hall again.

“Pumpkin Patch. A Stallion who fought for Equestria after the loss of his son.” Brass simply said.

“... His son,” Celestia repeats. “A father fighting to avenge his loss.”

My eyes stung. Tears again threatened to pool up. A deep breath through the nostrils followed by a hard blink suppressed them as I calmed down.

“Raven,” Celestia calls from her throne. An Earth Pony Mare with a Cream Coat and neatly tied bun stepped forth diligently, one hoof clutching a clipboard. 

“See to it that the family of this Pumpkin Patch from the Wonderbolts Division is compensated for a year’s worth of bits and that they shall pay no taxes. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Princess.” Raven simply replied, trotting behind the throne with ease and grace as she scribbled the newfound objective on her clipboard.

My eyes drift to Brass Screws, shoulders visibly slouched from the weight of her burden being lifted off. A servant mare carefully gets to work using their magic to fold the uniform up neatly, floating it beside her as she trots it off elsewhere. 

Whatever happened to it, I do not know. All I remember was feeling a great relief that the deed was done, though still saddened at the loss.

“It is done,” Celestia states, “Now, down to the matter at hoof. You said you had a message for me?” She wastes no time pivoting topics.

My eyes shift to Brass. Her expression was unreadable as she stoically raised a hoof towards Morning Dew. The latter nodded with a slow trot forward, shrugging off her saddlebags as well. Kneeling, she carefully extracted a thick binder in her mouth from the bags. 

Inside contained the necessary calligraphic, cartographic, and photographic evidence needed to warn Equestria of the impending attack. 

Morning gives a low bow to Princess Celestia, the Binder sitting on the floor in front of the staircase leading towards the diarch.

“We bring you information from the Changelings themselves, about an impending attack from a secret weapon. One that is aimed directly towards Canterlot.”

Silence. No fanfare, no audible gasp. Only a sudden, oppressive quiet that smothered everypony as the news was announced.

It was broken by the sound of Celestia's horn crackling to life with magic. The binder enveloped itself in a golden hue as Celestia brought it closer to her. She flips it open and reads the contents inside with haste. Eyes darting across the papers, pictures, and maps. 

Her eyes give a low scowl.

“... Aigaion.”

She speaks the word with venomous contempt. I understand from the simplicity of her tone that she recognizes its existence.

She knew it was real before we even got here. And she knows exactly what it is.

There was a slight twitch of an eyebrow, relenting the frown for only a second before furrowing deeper again. She finally breathes in to speak.

“Where did you find this information?” she asks, her gaze never leaving the contents inside.

“In a command room occupied by the Changelings, hidden deep inside of Hjortland’s Royal Palace.” Brass answered with simple diligence. “... Which brings me to my next point at hoof.”

The sudden reluctance in Brass’s voice, followed by the subject change, was enough to draw Celestia’s hard gaze back toward us with a skeptical look.

“... There is more?” She tersely asks.

Again, my heart felt like it sank to the deepest crevices of the earth at her voice. Like a mother scolding her children. I braced myself inward for what was to come, forcing my body to be still with a fixed frown of my own. 

I looked back at the others. each of them petrified of their own apart from Brass. each of them carrying a look of uncertainty, fear, and awe.

“There is,” Brass swallowed. “We implore you to listen as to how we acquired this intel.”

Celestia’s brow raised higher somehow, but she otherwise nodded slowly.

“The ponies you see before you today,” Brass began with a hoof stretching to all of us behind her, “the information we carry with us, and the resolve to see this deed done, all of it wouldn’t be possible without the aid of Olenia’s brave resistance fighters.”

Celestia leaned forward ever so slightly. “Resistance fighters in Olenia? I thought they were extinguished years ago.”

“So did we,” Brass continues, “but we were wrong, Princess. They are alive and, while not faring too well, are still kicking. And our presence in Hjortland had inspired them all to rise in rebellion across their country, battling against their Changeling Oppressors with partisan warfare as we speak.”

“Well and good then, you wouldn’t have survived without their aid. I commend their bravery and sacrifice.” She remarks with practiced rehearsal and cold delivery. I cringed inward at how dismissive it sounded. “Was there anything else? This information is in dire need of parsing, and we have little time to spare.”

My ears droop, and again that cold shiver shakes my body as I gaze over to Brass. 

Brass stood unflinching.

“You must aid Olenia, Princess Celestia.” She speaks firmly, a tad louder for all to hear.

Silence returns to the throne room. Brass’s words echoed across the mostly empty hall as she and Celestia stared at one another unblinking. 

“Need I remind you, we still have ponies inside the city. And the Olenians have personally told us they are willing to give you their full cooperation should you intervene. We already have divisions on the ground, we can help establish a beachhead. This can only do good for us.” 

Brass presents her case with cautious rhetoric, speaking in a careful cadence as she comes off as diplomatic rather than demanding.

“It falls on to you, Princess, and it is the least we can do. The intel we provided to you proves that Canterlot is in grave danger. If it weren’t for Olenia’s brave fighters, we wouldn’t have made it this far to warn you of this threat. We wouldn’t have found this intel in the first place.

“It would be immensely selfish of us to leave our pony and olenian friends hanging to dry, Princess. Especially after all they did to help us. We must help them in kind.”

Her last sentence sounded like a plea. And to be fair, it practically was. Brass had hung her head down just a little after speaking her piece, still making eye contact with the monarch in front of us.

Neither party backed down in their staring contest. But I could see it in Celestia’s eyes. A twinkle of contemplation. She opens her mouth to speak.

“What exactly would they have me do?” 

Celestia’s question didn’t come off as rhetorical, and so Brass carefully answered.

“Send aid. Divisions, weapon shipments, another invasion if you must. I know what I am asking is a tall order and no small feat, Your Majesty, but if I may be blunt: I feel this is a moral imperative that we must uphold, for the sake of ending this war sooner rather than later… If nothing else.”

“Hmph.” Celestia sighs through her nostrils, leaning back against her seat. “This is a decision I cannot make lightly. And I suspect that you know that already. In any case, the threat to Canterlot is a more tangible and dangerous priority than the prerogative of Olenia’s future.”

I felt my heart stop at those words. Brass stepped forward.

“I understand, Celestia. I do not wish for you to assign Olenia’s security as a priority over Equestria’s. I am asking you to aid Olenia as soon as you reasonably can. After Canterlot’s threat is dealt with, I implore you to explore the opportunity that Olenia has to Offer.” Brass tried once again.

Celestia’s skeptical brow raised again, somehow looking more hostile than her scowl.

“And… you expect me to take your word on this? That Olenia and our pony divisions are still alive and well, waiting for aid as we speak? With no proof of their existence or otherwise? It sounds to me like you are uncertain Olenia will survive the week without us. It sounds to me they are desperate for our intervention.”

"They are!"

The bellow left everypony on edge. The guards stepped a little closer together, clutching weapons. I looked back, seeing our group doing the same.

For a brief, terrifying moment, I thought an altercation would ensue. But nothing came to pass.

“Answer me this, Sergeant Brass Screws." Celestia finally broke the silence with a scathing tone. "How long exactly do Olenia’s fighters have before it is too late? Do you know? Or are you merely estimating their demise?”

Again, Brass didn’t reply. A tight vice gripped my heart as I found it hard to breathe. 

“Do you know the implications of a failed invasion in Olenia? Based on a loose rumor that Olenia might be alive? How many hundreds of thousands of ponies would have to bleed until we realize our folly? Do you know this plan will succeed? Or do you hope it will?”

Still no reply. My heart sinks.

“What if you were wrong? What if the Changelings were more prepared than you think? What if they had less time than you suspect? What if the Changelings wanted us to invade Olenia? So they could destroy our chances of victory before the ponies left their ships? Should they fail, how would you explain to the hundreds of thousands of family members who lost their loved ones that their lives will forever be shattered because of your failures?”

Brass’s ears droop to her temples. And yet still, she had no reply.

“Exactly. You cannot answer because you do not know. You couldn't have known, because there are too many unknown variables in this ‘plan’ of yours.” Her words left no room for mercy in her speech as she dissected Brass's argument bit by bit. “You would be responsible for shattering the Equestrian War Machine because of a hunch. Because you think it is a ‘moral imperative’ to do so. Because you think we should save Olenia. Is that it?”

“... And you would leave our ponies to die? Alongside our newfound Olenian brethren?” Brass asked with appalled volume. “Tens of thousands are going to die!” She screams.

The guards stepped forward. Celestia leans in with them, menacingly.

“I have heard it all before, Sergeant Brass Screws.” Her acrid stare pierced through our souls. “I am not going to wait for months on end for new divisions to be trained up for a resistance movement that won’t survive the week. I will not risk sending more pony lives into a meatgrinder that the Changelings will no doubt fortify for the next incursion.” 

A bitter sigh travels through her nostrils as she relents the frown ever so slightly.

“It is too late. It would be too little, too late for Olenia. But it is not too late for Equestria and for all the pony nations still standing on this continent. For as long as we are still at war, Equestria’s survival takes priority over everything else.”

And that was it. With a simple wave of a hoof at her command, Celestia had sealed Olenia’s fate. As well as the fates of all the ponies and deer who fought, and now died, for our sake.

I felt sick, dizzy, angry, and stricken with a sadness that threatened to boil over as my gaze dropped to the floor. I blinked several times. But a few tears of rage quietly slipped out.

“Raven,” Celestia calls once more, the former dutifully standing by her monarch’s side. “S.M.I.L.E. will need to help to parse this information. Send this to their department of cryptology immediately.”

“Yes, your grace.” She bows before trotting away at a swift pace, heading behind us down the double doors.

“Will there be anything else?” Princess Celestia asked with cold indifference, with a tad of annoyance. Brass sighed.

“... No.” She answered softly.

“Then you are dismissed. I have other matters to attend to." She turns to their guards. “See to it they are transferred back to their Division Commander, and have them back on duty soon.”

Rage flared up in a fiery tendril of adrenaline at those words. With a nod and a salute, the gilded-plated guards ushered us back where we came from. As I stared at Celestia one last time, her eyes locked onto mine.

For a moment, there was eye contact. It was ephemeral, yet eternal. For a few seconds, in those eyes, I saw something. A glint of an emotion that was masked throughout this meeting until now.

Pain.

My body was twisted at the behest of a guard ushering me onward, losing eye contact with the monarch. My mind captures the image with almost perfect clarity. The look of hurt in her eyes. 

She had a facade of stone, but beneath the mountain, there was a sadness inside that I couldn’t measure how much there was. I imagine quite a lot, given that she is the monarch of ponies in this time of crisis.

During what is considered to be the worst period of Pony History.

For a brief moment, I empathized with her.

Then, I am reminded of Olenia.

Then there were just confused, and conflicting thoughts.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to us now. But one thought stood out with clarity above all the maelstrom of troubled voices in my mind.

Princess Celestia had failed Olenia. 

And there is nothing we can do about it.
> (A4) - Finale: Wrath
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 4, Finale: Wrath



“Here in the Paleo-Mammalian Cortex, we call it—The Shadow.”






I blink.

My vision swam as I was surrounded by darkness again. The memories dissipate as my eyes return to reality and assess the abyss surrounding me. 

I look to my right. Jade green irises reflecting the lamp shining on us stare back at my tired teal eyes. Night Light is enraptured with my recollection of meeting Celestia, but her glossy eyes reveal her struggle to remain composed. She looked miserable, though not (just) because we were held against our will. She knew now just how much I had failed.

I felt my ears wilt beneath that gaze of pity.

“She sent you away.” Bon Bon’s voice cuts through the darkness, snapping my attention to her hidden face. Her hooves tapped impatiently on the table. “After you revealed the Aigaion’s intentions to her, she would devote all her time and energy to prepare Canterlot for an impending attack. She would call generals, arrange redeployed divisions, and re-route supply trains to the city; the list goes on.”

Her body leans in slightly closer, revealing Bon Bon’s eyes and her stern frown.

“And yet, such an attack never came. The days turn into weeks, and nothing came of Canterlot or any other city of an Airship.”

Again with that revelation. 

On the surface, it would make sense. Of course the Changelings wouldn’t risk attacking Canterlot if we knew they were coming.

But at the same time, it seemed impossible for them to not try.

Something was missing. A piece of the puzzle we don’t know yet.

“Celestia sent you back to your Division Commander soon after she realized Canterlot was under no threat. But you and your squad were under a strict policy of secrecy about the Aigaion. No word of it was to be mentioned of it or else you would all be court-martialed. And you have upheld that secrecy since then.” 

No reply. I furrowed my brow, lips tightening in instinct.

“Which pivots me back to you.” Bon Bon locks eyes with Night Light. I heard the latter swallow her throat. 

Silence.

For a few short moments, the two engaged in a staring contest. But Bon Bon’s stare could freeze a cockatrice if she wanted to. Night Light blinked first, shrinking into her seat.

“I’m going to ask you one last time, and I want a straight answer this time.” Bon Bon sounded threatening. “And I don’t want any interruptions from you. Understand?” She locks eyes with me.

I couldn’t help but nod, my brain screaming at me for doing so like an idiot.

Bon Bon stares into Night Light’s soul as she speaks slowly.

“Are you a coward? Or are you a traitor?”

No response. I look at Night Light. Her eyes are even, her lips sealed and still. She sits slumped because of the restraints, but she commands her body to be as straight as it can be. Her muscles will themselves into rigidness.

But when she breathes in to speak, her breath quivers in anticipation and anxiety.

“I am a coward.”

She sounded like she was holding back tears when she spoke those simple words.

Bon Bon, meanwhile, sounds cold. “Then you admit it? That you fled Las Pegasus on December 7th, 1012? Abandoning your allies to die as you fled for your own life?”

A shiver unrelated to the cold travels up my spine. Darting my gaze between Night Light and Bon Bon, I can only catch glimpses of the emotions both are portraying.

Rage. Regret. Sorrow. 

“... Yes.” Night Light answers.

My heart drops. I didn’t want to believe it.

But there was no doubt in that tone, no indication of lying. She spoke the truth.

The words repeated in my head over and over again.

I am a coward.

“Then you are aware you committed treason, then?”

I felt my brow furrow and I jumped from my seat. Synapses flare as I scream.

“That was years ago!”

I waited for a strike from the dark. But no such retaliation came from my outburst. 

Instead, I had earned the ire of Bon Bon through her stare alone. 

“Did you know that Captain Spitfire is dead?” She speaks to me

My brows raised upward as I felt my mouth slightly agape.

“I… What?” I felt another shiver.

“She didn’t survive the encounter with the Aigaion that day. December 7th was the day the Wonderbolts perished. All of them.”

A soft gasp to my right. I look to see Night Light quietly sobbing to herself, her eyes hidden beneath her bangs.

“Night Light here would’ve joined them in death. But instead, she fled.” Bon Bon spoke in a ‘matter-of-factly’ tone, eyes drifting back to Night Light.

“I’m sorry.” A choked whimper. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

My heart wrenched at the sight of it all. I felt tears building up, as well as a seething rage. Rage directed at our captors. 

“Don’t apologize to me.” Bon Bon sneers. “Say sorry to the families and friends of those you left to die.”

I pounced.

I launched from my still-bound hind legs as they gave me one good jump, but the jump alone would not be enough to reach her. 

But they forgot to bind my wings.

Lunging forward with extra momentum than anypony expected, I felt my head connect to Bon Bon’s snout painfully. A welt on my forehead would be visible, but I felt a crackle against Bon Bon as a sickly popping noise emitted from her nose.

“Grahhh!”

My primal scream and her cry of pain overtake the soundscape. My ears drowned in the adrenaline rush. I collapse atop Bon Bon’s now writhing body as the bodyguards quickly get to work dragging me off and subduing my wings. 

As they tied them with extra-stiff plastic cuffs, I felt a few retaliatory strikes from Bon Bon’s legs as I tucked my face against the floor to avoid the worst of the bombardment of kicks. She bucks my crown incessantly, the guards busy dragging her off of me as well.

“Phucking Bish!” She screams with a noticeable slur as she grabs hold of her now broken nose. I could feel the weight of two stallions pressing me against the floor, I looked up into the darkness to see two more silhouettes wrestling with one another as Bon Bon screamed.

“Fucking—put ‘em in confinement, NOW!” she screams with a nasal tone.

Screams from Night Light were drowned out by the groans from Bon Bon and the guards as I felt the cuffs connect painfully into place behind my wings. There, the weight shifted off of me as I felt hooves latch onto my coat and drag me along the floor without care until I was outside the room. 

I look over my torso as they dragged me by the shoulders to see Night Light receiving the same treatment, being tossed and dragged like a ragdoll while she flails and screams “I’m sorry” the entire time.

The adrenaline washed away, and all that remained was exhaustion with a hint of shame and regret. I was dragged along silently, frowning all the while as the guards said nothing to us. A few other suited ponies eyed the scene with a raised brow but otherwise went on with their business.

After a minute of dragging us down a mostly empty and sterile-looking wall, we stopped at a single metal door with a metal slit. One designed to peer through the door without opening it. Seeing the sight of that made me sigh to myself. Somehow, that tidbit aggravated me more than I thought it would.

It takes a moment to unlock the door with a key ring until the one dragging me tosses me inside a white room with a stiff concrete floor. My bones ache painfully at the impact of him throwing me, and I hear Night Light thump onto the floor next to me with a groan and a whimper.

No words were spoken as the guards closed the door. Soon, the locking mechanisms ground and sealed into place with a series of clicks.

There wasn’t total silence. Night Light was still quietly sobbing to herself. I drift my eyes to see her back facing me, wings also cuffed together like mine. Each movement of the joints was painfully tedious. My hooves couldn’t even wrap around her, they could only rub her back lamely in certain spots that I could reach. Mainly the spine between her wings.

My mind reels back. Everything had happened so fast that it only just now caught up to me the consequences of what happened.

We were well and truly trapped with no way out.

Night Light’s whimpers devolve into not-so-quiet sobs. My heart ached at the sight of her as I tried to awkwardly comfort her with a hoof rubbing her spine.

“Why?” she croaks.

I knew what she was asking. 

Why did I do that?

And… I don’t know. 
 
“... I’m sorry,” I answered.

I can only remember seeing red, and the feeling of wanting to hurt those that hurt us.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper with her, “I’m sorry.”

My eyes had been pooling because of the pain, but now they spilled over at the sight of Night Light. We wept, both in despair of our situation and in grief of what we had lost.





I can’t remember when I passed out. But I can tell now, that this is another dream.

The room feels too familiar, too intimate. The binds on my hooves are gone, and Night Light is no longer around. I am inside a Glass Box, but one that I am acutely aware of its interior. One I had lived in my whole life.

I stand up, my hooves stretching with their newfound freedom. Even if it was temporary. I am trying to remember the first memory before entering this dream.

Images of me breaking Bon Bon’s nose replay in my mind.

“... Oh, fuck.” I mutter in horror, realizing the consequences of what I did. 

‘Oh, fuck’ is right!

A gravelly voice speaks from behind me as a familiar sensation washes over me. A clairvoyance of sorts. I turn to see an equine figure shrouded in shadow facing me with its white, beady eyes. They looked like stars in the night.

Fear grips my heart, but I remain standing in place. It opens its mouth to reveal sharp, pencil-like teeth grinning a hideous smile to me.

You done fucked up now, Sunshine.

“... We need to stop meeting like this,” I spoke with contempt at this being. Why am I suddenly being haunted in my dreams now? Is the universe trying to punish me?

No, it’s more like you are punishing yourself.

I blinked.

… What? Have you forgotten I am a part of you? That means I can read your thoughts, dummy.

“Great, so I am being haunted. Fun.”

The shadow tuts to itself, shaking its head.

Tsk Tsk Tsk. I expected a little more credit.

I frowned. “... Fuck you.”

There you go! That’s more like it!

“Why are you here?” I asked, taking a step forward.

It laughs. It’s a laugh that sounds like dull saw blades from a lumber mill grinding painfully against one another.

Don’t tell me you have forgotten me as well?! I told you Sunshine: I am the bad day.

“... But I am not dead.”

Never before had the entity I am speaking to shown confusion before, but it tilted its head to me at that statement.

… Obviously not. What's your point?

“You said you were ‘the inevitable’ last time we spoke. As far as I can remember, the only things inevitable in life are death and taxes. And I am still alive. What, have I not paid my taxes or something?”

Again, that horrendous laugh of a banshee guffaws out of the creature in front of me.

Witty. But no, you are not dead. 

“... So why are you here then?”

Its smile dissipates.

Because once again, Sunshine, you are still bumbling about the pane. The window of truth remains closed to you, but you can feel its light. And it is starting to kill you. And soon, all of your past misdeeds will catch up to you.

I sigh, feeling my headache at the cryptics. 

"I need a simple answer, please."

You are running out of time.

I raised a brow at the entity.

“Running out of time on what?”

How should I know? I know as well as you do. I just know that this is the truth.

“Okay… how long do you think I have?”

How should I know?

I groaned.

“Fine! What is—er, what do you think is going to happen when time runs out?”

The end of everything.

I felt my heart stop at those words.

Just a hunch.

I wanted to argue, to protest. But the words fail to form. They die before reaching my throat.

I knew with a quiet certainty that this was the truth. 

“... The end of everything?” I whisper.

Nothing sad. Nothing tragic. No Betrayal. No heartbreak. It is simply the end.

I say nothing.

Imagine it. No past. No Present. No future. Only nothing. The world is gone. Well, it is not like it wasn’t lost already… But it will be well and truly gone soon, very soon. No promises. No regrets. Only stillness.

… And yet.

You feel it too, don’t you? That bitter, caustic sense of loss? You cannot help but wonder where it comes from, even after the end of everything. Even after the loss, great slimy sorrow slips into the water with you.

“... It hurts.”

I know it does. I know it does… But it is only the beginning.

“... So I am doomed, then?”

You were doomed from the start, Sunshine. It is merely a slow death. Death by a thousand cuts. 

“Why?”

How should I know?

“... Fuck.” I feel tears stream down my cheeks.

‘Fuck’ is right…

“Then… if I am doomed, what is the point? What do I do now?”

I already told you, Sunshine. You need to remember why you forgot.

“But why? Why does it matter now? I fucked up so badly this time...”

The entity looks into my eyes with its white beads, its mouth sealed as it speaks with a sudden reverence. 

Do you think you would do that to yourself easily? Do you think you would forget so easily? No. Something did this to you.

“But what?”

Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was a machine. Maybe it was an event so horrible that you chose to lock the memory away forever. Who’s to say? 

I groaned. I feel a sensation of awareness creeping against me once more as I feel my head swim. The walls of the cube around me melt into hot sand, like an hourglass filling up. I am suddenly drowning in the sand as I reach into more sand.

The voice leaves me a parting message before consciousness overtakes me

Remember why you forgot. You are running out of time.





I awoke with a start to a glaring light damn near blinding me as I scrunched my eyes painfully open. I see the entire room is painted white apart from ourselves and the metal door. The walls, the ceiling, the lights, the one toilet seat, the painfully uncomfortably looking cot bolted to the floor; all were as white as the morning snow on Hearths Warming.

Night Light was seen sitting on her haunches atop the cot, staring at a corner in the wall with her back facing me.

I groaned as I attempted to do the same. A lot hard to do when you have your limbs tied together and can’t use them as leverage. I had to fight against gravity using nothing but my chin, but eventually, I pushed myself high enough to sit up.

It felt like an hour had passed, though it was impossible to tell the passage of time from here. I felt my stomach painfully scrunch up in hunger.

“Are you okay?” A monotone voice asks.

It took me a second to register it as Night Light. She never sounded lifeless before now. It was as if her soul left her body.

“Uh… yeah. Are you okay?” I clear my throat, trying to sound healthy and not like I had cried myself to sleep. 

“Hah…” she replies with a dry laugh. Still facing away from me, her gaze averted to the corner in the wall. As if she refuses to look at me.

“Night…?” 

“They came by while you were still out.” She informs me with a defeated tone.

“Who?”

“That mare whose nose you broke, and… another Stallion. I think it was Grimhooves.”

“... I don’t know who that is,” I admitted lamely.

“It doesn’t matter,” she remarks coldly. The way she spoke, the lack of life in her tone. It spelled bad news to me. 

“They both came with their final verdict. We are both going to separate prisons.”

It takes a second for the news to register. When it finally did sink in, it sank alongside my heart to Tartarus below. I felt tears pricking my eyes. “... P-Prison?”

“I am going because of High Treason. You are going because you assaulted a government agent. Technically speaking, you got off lighter than me.”

She spoke with such acceptance in her voice. Like she was at peace with her fate.

I felt like my world was unraveling at the seams.

“But… Thats not…”

“It’s over, Sunshine.” Night Light quietly.

Three words.

It took three words for me to feel like I had been stabbed in the chest with a burning knife. 

“Wh-what?”

“It’s over. We’re done,” she spoke with finality. “After today, we won’t see each other again.”

It was getting hard to breathe. I felt my throat tighten as my cheeks are starting to become wet with tears. 

“You… You can’t mean…”

“What else is there, Sunshine?” she finally turns her back around to look at me in the eyes.

Her crimson, puffy eyes betrayed any notion of stability in her tone. Her face was wet with bodily fluids as she struggled to hold back more tears.

“I don’t blame you, for whatever that is worth.” her ears droop. “But… They are going to put you in a mental ward for psychological evaluation before putting you on trial. And I don’t know what they will do with me, but I imagine it won’t be pretty for what I did. It’s over…”

I wanted to apologize, but it just felt pathetic to even try. A hollow apology wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t even make us feel better. Tears flowed down my cheeks freely. Night Light did the same, crying with abandon.

“I…” She stops herself. Shuffling over towards me on her haunches, she cranes her neck down into mine to nuzzle against me. 

“I don’t know how long we have together until they take us away.”

I collapsed into her neck. I couldn’t hold it anymore. It felt like a serrated dagger was debriding my heart inside out. The composure melted away as I sobbed into her neck. She did the same as we both cried into each other's shoulders. A snotty mess of a pony was what remained of me. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I wailed.

She attempted to comfort me, but she couldn’t. Her feeble attempts of stroking my back were thwarted by our binds. For a long while, both of us cried into each other shoulders just a hoof’s length away. Certain it would be the last day we would spend together.





Torturously dreadful solitary was our life. Both of us were still painfully constricted to our bindings, and there wasn’t much we could do. Most were metal apart from the ones around our wings, so no way of chewing them open or breaking them apart. They were starting to leave a rash mark beneath the coat with no way of scratching it.

For hours we sat like that, painfully trying to scratch our itches and sit as still as possible. It was madness-inducing enough to be locked up in this room. Being confined to itches one cannot scratch in said room in Tartarus on Earth. 

Night Light sat together on the cot in the corner of the room, neither of us in any position to stand up or move around. We were hungry, thirsty, in pain, and going insane with nothing to do but our thoughts.

I sighed.

“I hate everything,” I mumble.

“Mhm.” Night hums quietly, leaning into my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No its not.”

“... It’s okay.”

Silence. Both of us are too tired to talk in complete sentences, it seems. Or, at least, I am.

“How long do you think it has been?” Night Light asks.

“At least three hours.”

“Mm.”

I yawned. I felt tired enough to sleep if I wanted to.

“Hey,” Night Light suddenly quips.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

My heart stops. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe as an icy chill courses my veins.

“I never got to say that before you left all those years ago. So I wanna say it here. I love you.”

There wasn’t an immediate thought. No emotion. No flaring neuron to focus on. All that greeted me was a sort of static in my brain from the fatigue. 

“... Sunshine?”

I love you.

The words repeated in my brain a few times. The words of a friend to a friend; lover to a lover; mother and father, to daughter and son. The words of wanting what is good for another without a desire for anything in return. The words of someone willing to potentially be hurt by you even if it means getting closer to you.

I love you.

“... You shouldn’t.” My voice trembles.

“But I do. And I don’t care if I shouldn’t,” she spoke without hesitation.

Ah, hello again tears.

“I’ve been a bad pony to you, though,” I whisper.

“But you are trying to be better.”

“And I failed.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I still love you, even through all of your faults.” She shuffles to make me look at her in the eyes, smiling sincerely behind her glossy jade irises. “You may think you are not a good pony, and you may be right. But I want to be there on your worst days, to make sure you are not alone. I want to be there with you on your best days, to help you live them to the fullest. I want to be there for the rest of your days, simply because I do.

“I love you, Sunshine.”

Somehow, I haven’t broken down bawling yet. Tears are streaming, but I still had some composure left in me to muster enough strength to do what I wanted to do. 

Sniffing through my nostrils with a deep breath, I lean into her snout. Lips connect to lips, and at first there is genuine surprise as Night Light ‘meeps’ in her throat. She then relaxes and allows our lips to lock. 

I didn’t think it was true before, but the cliché of a kiss feeling like it lasted for an eternity really was true. It was only a few short ephemeral seconds in reality, but it felt infinitely longer than that.

It felt like the first meaningful kiss I had ever given to her.

We parted lips, eyes locked. Words failed me for a moment until I knew what to say with certainty.

“... I love you too, Night Light.”

She cranes her neck down into my nuzzle, sighing. It wasn’t a warm sigh, more like a relieving sigh that lifted a weight off her chest.

For a moment, it made me forget my dire circumstances.





I blinked with crusty eyes.

Waking up from my uncomfortable nap, I tried to move my hooves to wipe them. The iron cuffs clinked with a painful chafing sensation around my fetlocks. At this point, the rash was starting to get worse. 

I see Night Light sitting next to me. I looked up to see here looking down on me with a soft smile.

“I never get a chance to see you sleep before.”

I felt a heat rise to my cheeks. Despite my groggy brain just waking up, a silver of consciousness remained that prompted me to sit up. I smiled back at her. “Did I look peaceful?”

“You looked like a baby Ursa Minor. And sounded like one too.” She smiles back. “No wonder I always fall asleep first.” 

My smile widened with a giggle. Quite euphoric, given how I fared all day.

Looking up at her eyes again, I noticed the bags beneath them.

“I hope I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“You did, but I am always tired waking up. I’ll be okay.”

I couldn’t help but frown at that. She knew as well as I did. Our time wouldn’t last.

“Have they come by?”

“I don’t know.” She ponders. “I… I am wondering if I may have dreamed them saying they would take us away.”

That got me to chuckle a little. “My dreams have been haunting me with ghosts lately.”

She looks back at me with a look of concern.

“Ghosts?”

“Well, I think they are ghosts. But it feels like I am talking to myself.”

“Oh…” she mumbles. “Maybe that’s why you talk in your sleep.”

My blood runs cold.

“I talk in my sleep?”

“Not a lot, but yeah. You say some words here and there. You did it earlier.”

“What, uh… what exactly did I say?” I was suddenly afraid of the potential answers.

“I think you said… ‘Doomed,’ or, something like that.”

You were doomed from the start.

“... Did you hear anything else?” I asked again.

“Yeah,” she seemed nervous, “You also said: ‘The end’”

The end of everything.

“You think you know what it means?” she suddenly asks.

Instinct tells me to lie to her. But what would that achieve? Only more distrust? Would it matter, if we were to be separated anyway?

I paused.

No.

No, it would matter because we are about to be separated. Now more than ever, the truth is what she wants to hear. And I have no reason left to lie to her now.

I already told her about the bomb, what is there left to lose?

“... I know this is gonna sound crazy, but, I think I have… forgotten something. Something very important. And I have these weird dreams where I talk to myself. Dreams that somehow are related to the thing I have forgotten.”

Night Light raises a brow but otherwise remains even in her expression.

“And sometimes in these dreams, I talk to myself… I think. I don’t know for sure. It feels surreal. Like it's a dream and not a dream at the same time.”

“Huh.”

“Do you have something like that?” I asked.

“No, nothing like what you are saying, that feels… wow. I’m sorry Sunshine, that must feel horrible to live with.”

“It is,” I spoke, suddenly a little more tired than I was before yet still waking up. “I feel like it’s haunting me. Hence why I said I was haunted by ghosts.”

“I can see that,” Night acquiesces. “I don’t know why that is happening, but I do know that cannot be good for you. Did you have one earlier before you woke up?”

“No,” I sighed, “thankfully it doesn’t happen every time I go to sleep.”

Silence. For a moment, Night Light doesn’t know what to say. There is no ambience to focus on otherwise though, nor a visual, only her. It feels like she is a lighthouse in an alabaster sea.

The lighthouse finally found the words to speak.

“What are these dreams about?” she asks.

I paused. Not sure how to answer. Except that, it feels like…

“A warning,” I answer with a sudden astuteness. “It feels like they are warning me of something.”

“But why now? Have these dreams been going on for a while? Or only just now?”

I paused. The more I thought about it, the more unusual it seemed for them to be happening all out of nowhere. Were they triggered by the trauma of me reliving my past? That sounded simultaneously plausible and silly.

I didn’t know, and the lack of an answer to the first question frustrated me. As for the rest, however…

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied honestly, “but otherwise, these dreams have been happening since last night… I think.” I scrunch my eyes up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how long we have been here.”

“I’d say at least half of a day.”

“Let’s go with that. So since last night then,” I answered.

“That doesn’t sound very long.”

“I’ve had two last night, and one earlier.”

“Was there anything else by any chance? Something to help us?”

Glass and Steel monoliths…

“... There is. One place keeps popping up in my head over and over again, but I have never been there before.”

“Where?”

“Manehattan.” 

“... You think the bomb might be there?”

A voiceless scream…

“I hope not.”

“... Oh, goddesses.”

Silence for a while. I stare at my hooves, bound together. For a moment, my mind drew a blank as it was lost on what to do.

I heard Night Light clear her throat behind me.

“Do you think—”

Click-Clack!

The slit on the top of the door slid open, revealing a pair of dark hazel eyes scanning the room until they acquired us in the corner on the cot.

The slit closed, and soon the mechanisms of the door began to unlock lock by lock. It swung open to reveal two ponies standing in the doorway with batons holstered on their sides.

“Sunshine Tempest,” one of them announces, “You are coming with us.”

“Why?” I asked immediately, afraid of what was to come.

“You do not have a choice. You are coming with us for questioning.”

I frowned as they stepped into the room. Night Light attempts to latch around my barrel, her chains pressing against me.

“No…” she pleads.

Each hoof had two cuffs wrapped around their fetlocks, their tight chains preventing even the simplest of walks. As they began to unlock one of the pairs, I began to tell the difference already in weight and balance. It felt relieving to finally see them come off.

It was also disturbing to see the welts around my hooves from the iron wrapped around them.

They only unlocked one pair per side, still leaving me chained up on all four hooves but at least able to walk.

“Please.” Night Light begs.

“I love you Night Light. I’m sorry.” I spoke quickly, locking eyes with hers as they streamed more tears. Again, my heart was skewered with a dagger at the sight of her.

“Let’s go.” One of the guards spoke with simple finality.

And with that, I was hoisted up on all fours by two pairs of hooves. I was prompted to march, both of them flanking me. 

I heard Night choke a gasp behind me as she began sobbing. I couldn’t turn back to look at her. I fought back tears of my own as I was marched out the door.

And with that, my fate was sealed. I was a dead mare walking, it felt like.

I began to walk down the sterile hallways that were painted grey, my eyes thankful to leave the snow-tinted room blinding my sight and draining my sanity. A sensation of numbing shock took over me as I trotted with a troubled pace. The guards pressed me onward a few times.

We took a left and a right. We passed by some ponies who gave us no passing glance. We passed by some more metal doors similar to the one I was locked up in. All of them closed and locked, soundproofed to hide who-knows-what behind those doors.

We also passed by some other ponies who looked like they were plucked in here just like me and Night Light were at the start of all of this. Confused and scared ponies babbling questions to their guards’ deaf ears. 

‘What is this place? Why am I here? Am I in trouble? What is going on?’

Each went unanswered as they were taken away to somewhere deep in the facility. 

Soon, we were taken to an express elevator that looked recently installed. That gave me the notion that we were underground. As the elevator doors opened, I eyed the panel to see the number of buttons. Eight of them, six were below the surface.

A sensation I was acutely aware of, but neglected to express, was building up as we continued to trot. It started as indignance. And soon turned into rage at my captors. But upon seeing the extent of the operation they had here? Seeing how far they were willing to go to take away ponies and their lives for their means? 

The sensation was bubbling like an ill-prepared cauldron of dangerous alchemy. I looked down at my cuffs with a deep frown, my mind running laps at the possibilities and the chances of success. I moved an idle hoof forward slowly, feeling its weight. Its balance. And seeing how far the chains expanded before going taut.

I then noticed one of the guards had the keyring that unlocked our door.

“Take us up.” one of the guards speaks, the other nods. The latter pressed the ‘S1’ button, the doors closing in front of us. I noticed the current floor number says ‘B5’

When the doors shut, it was like a switch flipped on in my head.

I felt numb, shocked, saddened, and afraid. 

But all of these feelings paled to the wrath that swallowed them whole.

My body exploded into action. My head lunges forward against the guard to my right, striking him on his temple as he reels back against the railings of the elevator, almost going over in the chute. I twist my body immediately after the impact, using the body behind me as a cushion for the fall. I raised my forehooves just in time to wrap my chains around the second guard's neck.

But he was quick. Quicker than I estimated. He had his body facing me just in time as I attempted to choke him, my chains grabbing onto his spine instead of his jugular. He anchors his hooves against the momentum of me pulling him closer to me, until he finally releases the resistance and lunges at me.

I duck my face just in time to soften the blow of his headbutt to my forehead, but it connected painfully to the welt of my previous attempts. The pain was enough to daze me for a few precious seconds until he was free from my chains.

The body of my first victim eventually mustered the strength to shove me off. An awkward scuffle of limbs flailing about ensued until they both managed to grab a hold of me.

“You got her!?”

“Yeah, I got her!”

I scream and flail about as one of them grabs hold of my barrel, wrapping around them with his hooves from in front of me. Belly to belly, were were inches away from each other as we both struggled for dominance. He was much bigger than me in size, my hooves were barely scraping the floor as he stood squarely on his hind legs. 

“You aren’t going to win.” the one wrapping around me speaks calmly. “It’s over.”

Chomp!

In a singular motion, my teeth connect to his jugular. I focused my strength on my neck and pulled away from his as my teeth latched onto his skin for dear life. 

Skin ruptures and pulls away like torn fabric, blood profusely seeping onto my face as my teeth break free from the traction of skin, pulling away a chunk of flesh and hair.

His strength fades almost immediately as he lets go of me. My hind legs land softly on the floor of the still-ascending elevator. 

I turn back to see the second bodyguard paralyzed. His eyes were wide as saucers, his pupils dilated.

I latch onto his skin next, aiming for the same spot.

Ten seconds and one ruptured throat later, and both guards were dead. I stood over the two writhing, bleeding corpses as they both sputtered and gagged at the holes in their vocal cords.

I dart my eyes back up to see the elevator almost at its destination. A quick press of the buttons ‘B5’ sends my next destination.

The elevator stops mid-flight, and begins an uneasy descent back down.

Breathing heavily with the taste and scent of copper all over my snout, I began to search for the keyring on one of the soon-to-be corpses. I paid no mind to them reaching up at me as I eventually snagged my price with a manic laugh.

Getting to work at freeing myself was tricky when covered in blood, but the forehooves finally were free by the time the elevator doors chimed. I quickly snagged a baton in reflex, waiting for anypony to strike.

The doors opened to reveal an empty sterile hallway with a few metal doors off to the sides. Blood was now spilling onto the floors.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I got to work freeing my hind hooves until those chains too came off with a satisfying click. I began scratching the rash marks beneath the cuffs in giddy relief as I relished the newfound freedom.

Seeing red and with a bloody baton in my mouth, I imagined what I must’ve looked like now. 

I must look deranged.

Shaking my head at the thought, I pressed onward. Remembering the trajectory of the path back to our cell—A right then a left, on the third door to the right side of the halls. Looking around for potential bystanders, I eventually arrived back to our cell alone.

I paused. Something stopped me from proceeding.

What is Night Light going to think if she sees you looking like a serial killer? What is she going to think about the bodies?

Do you think she wants to be saved by you? Do you think you are saving her?

I shook my head, dispelling the thought. We were running out of time. It is easy to sideline potential moral conflicts with yourself when you’re on an adrenaline rush.

I looked through at the keyring, shuffling through each key with my shaking hooves it took four failed attempts until I found the right key. Still no bystanders.

The latches click open with a satisfying groan as I push the doors open. 

Night Light’s back is facing me. Her wings still cuffed painfully so. She is not-so-quietly crying in the corner on top of the cot, despondent at the noises of the door opening behind her.

My heart ached at the sight of her.

I looked down at myself. My coat was caked in blood and I smelled of death. Some of it staining the once pure alabaster room, now dripping in crimson. Bloody hoofprints trail into the room.

I took a deep breath in regardless of the odor. 

“Night Light?”

The crying stops. There is a harrowing moment of silence as she slowly cranes her neck to me.

She locks her eyes with me and recoils slowly. For a moment, she looks horrified. The horror is only amplified even further when she recognizes me.

“... Sunshine?”

“We need to go. Now.” I wasted no time. “They are going to realize something is wrong.”

“Oh goddesses… Oh goddesses, what did you do!?”

“... Something horrible,” I answered.

“Oh shit!” 

An alarmed voice behind me grips my attention, seeing another suit staring down at us with shrank pupils.

He springs into action, snapping out of his stupor remarkably quickly. I gallop forward just in time to stop him from closing the door and tackle him down to the floor. He shoves me off with a well-timed reversal, sending me flipping painfully on the floor. 

I stood on all fours to see him charging me head-on, his coat smeared in dried blood from me tackling him. He jumps at the last second to pounce me, tumbling me on my back as he stands over and swiftly begins striking my face with his forehooves.

Each hoof connects painfully to my snout, bruising and welting the face with each strike. I was on the defensive, unable to find an opening to counter out of. I felt myself growing dizzier with each blow that landed.

My hind hooves flail on the floor underneath him until they rear up in one last, desperate buck. They aimed just high enough to hit him right in the center of his inner hindquarters. A shriek of pain was heard from him as it painfully landed, his weight instantly sagging onto me as I shoved him off with the last vestiges of my strength left. I struck back at his face multiple times, ignoring his pleas and cries until he was beaten unconscious.

When it was over, I turned around to see Night Light looking at me with wide eyes and silent horror etched on her face. I stood up, and she backs away from me.

My heart drops at the sight of her backpedaling away from me.

“... Sunshine.” she simply speaks my name, unable to form sentences.

“We need to go.” I kept it simple for her. “Let me unlock your binds. Please.” 

She stood there, silently contemplating the insanity of how she got here. I couldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t blame her for being terrified at the sight of me. 

I stood for what felt like a harrowing eternity as she did not answer. No reply, only stunned silence.

I felt my heart twist up. But… what right would I have, to demand her to come with me? After what I did.

A creeping awareness of my adrenaline wearing off is catching up to me. I look back at the writhing stallion beneath me, still incapacitated.

My mind travels back to the bodies in the elevators.

“... Fuck.” my breathing hitches as the word leaves my mouth.

The weight of what I did catches up to me. I felt tears welling up as I felt a numbing sensation around me.

But despite the debilitations, I had one unwavering concern that won over the neurotic tug-of-war in my head. I look up at Night Light.

“... I… I need to get you out of here.”

Night Light says nothing. She stares with dumbfounded horror.

“But…”

“I know it's insane. But I am not leaving you.” I stretch my bloody hoof holding the keyring to her. “Please… let me keep my promise to you.”

She blinks. A moment passed as I waited for her response.

“Please.” I pleaded.

She blinks again.

“... Okay,” she whispers, nodding slowly. “Okay.” 

I nodded back, trotting quickly to her as I got to work freeing her binds. It took more effort for her than myself strangely enough, and I quickly got to work chewing through the plastic cuffs surrounding her wings. She did the same to mine soon afterward, both of us no longer bound.

Night Light scratching her rash spots in giddy relief just like I did previously gave me a strange warm glow inside at the sight.

“Follow me.” I beckoned with a wave of a baton. A left and a right, and we arrived back at the elevators. The doors were still open, blood still pooling at the bottom of its cart. The two writhing bodies now lay still. 

I dragged each body out one by one by one, bloodying my hooves further. It felt dried and caked on their coats, but some it still stained my fetlocks.

“Oh… I think I am going to be sick.” 

“If you need to throw up, I won’t hold it against you.” I offered some consolation.

“... You did this?”

I did not answer as I dragged the second body out. Stepping inside, I waved a hoof to come. 

Night Light hesitated, looking at the corpses beside her. She shakes her head, striding forward without taking another look at them. Soon, she stands next to me as I press a bloody hoofprint on the ‘S1’ button. 

“This is insane…” she mumbles.

“I know.”

“This is crazy. We are going to be killed for this…” she mutters atonally.

No answer.

She was right. This was suicide.

Shaking my head, I look up to see the dial etch closer to the surface.

“Nopony has guns. We should be able to make a break for it if we hurry.”

“Do you know the way out?”

I paused. It never occurred to me that I would make it this far. I suddenly remember me, and Night Light being bagged up as we were dragged below ground, blinding us to the path out of here.

Shit.

“We wing it,” I spoke with as much confidence as I could muster.

“... We are going to die.”

The elevator doors chime with a ding, the doors sliding open revealing two earth ponies engrossed in conversation with one another.

Both of us locked eyes with both of them, staring in silent shock for a few seconds.

“... Oh.”

A sudden surge of feathers and fur rushes past them both as and Night Light simultaneously. Both earth ponies failed to be tackled as they attempted to grab onto nothing.

“RUN!”

The scream from Night Light prompts me into action we both trot together as panicked voices behind us scream in alarm. We ran past wider-spaced hallways made of carpet and drywall with doors made of wood. Windows revealing interiors of offices show a few puzzled ponies staring at the sight of two ponies making an escape attempt.

We move with haste as we pass by several other confused onlookers. They take a few seconds to register the situation before giving chase as well. Soon, we had a small group hot on our tails as we bobbed and weaved throughout the facility. Turning the corner, we sprinted down a short hallway with two double doors. 

Bursting through the doors like a pair of angry twisters, we stopped cold soon after.

The doors led to an atrium with two balconies flanking overhead, a cafeteria bar to our right, and several doors leading further into what looked like living quarters. Benches arranged parallel to one another hosted various ponies enjoying meals.

Almost everypony freezes what they are doing and gazes at us. Two bloody, crazy-looking ponies that looked like additions to an insane asylum stared back at them with wide eyes.

“Fuck.” I swore aloud.

The doors behind us burst open, two earth ponies panting as they pointed hooves at us. “STOP THEM!”

“LEFT!” Night Light screams next to me, before taking off. I followed behind without hesitation, galloping past another series of double doors. A cacophony of screams and shouts echo off the walls of the atrium as the hornets nest behind us had been kicked up. 

Bursting through the doors, we found a T-intersection splitting left and right.

“Which way?!” Night asks.

“RIGHT!” I scream without thinking, praying to Celestia it would be the way out.

Turning that direction revealed only a dead end with a glass window barely large enough to fit a pony. It revealed the night sky of Canterlot’s skyline.

“Dead end!” I scream, quickly twisting my body. A wall of angry ponies looking to stop us surge around the corner we came from.

We were trapped.

Twisting my body back around, I see Night Light looking at me with horror. In her eyes, a glimpse of uncertainty. 

Was this the end?

I peer past her to the window, the glass pane looking thin on the window sill.

"FOLLOW ME!” I bellow as I galloped past her at breakneck speeds. 

This was going to hurt!

Charging with as much momentum as I could, I gritted my teeth and jumped upward at the last possible second with my head tucked as low as it could!

CRASH!

The window shatters into small shards as my body lunges through the other side and scrapes painfully on the Canterlot concrete outside. I turn to see Night Light diving out with a graceful leap, unfurling her wings at the last possible second to glide over the broken shards over the ground.

“COME ON! LETS GO!” She screams as she drags me to my hooves, a few shards still embedded into me as I flap my wings to take off. The pain is thankfully mitigated with the adrenaline as I flew upward with a few successful flaps. 

Soon, we were airborne and away, a choir of shouts below us screaming at one another to try and stop us. Thank Celestia we didn’t run into any unicorns to stop us with their magic. 

“CLIMB!” I shout behind Night Light, both of us ascending into the night sky. I twist my neck for one last glance at the Pyramid we barely escaped from, feeling a surge of energy pushing me forward. The night sky of hosted two figures flying away for their lives, now on the run from the authorities. 

Eventually, we reach a high enough altitude to hide behind a thin layer of altostratus clouds. We both stop to catch our breaths 

“Where, huff, where do we go!?” Night asks in between pants.

“We can’t go back home! They will know where to look!” I answer, darting my head around. The valley of ponyville and cloudsdale were not visible from this afar in the night. 

A thicket of forest extends beneath the face of Canterlot’s mountain, no more than a few miles away. It looked darker than the night surrounding it. A perfect place to hide.

“There! We go to the forest!”

Night Light gives one glance at the dark, foreboding woods below us. There was hesitance at first, but she nodded swiftly. 

“I’m right behind you.” Night reassures me. My heart admittedly swells.

“Then let’s go.”

We both unfurl our wings and glided down with a controlled descent into the tree line. As we got closer, a looming thought finally pierced through the fog of adrenaline.

There was no turning back after this.

We were now criminals on the run…
> (A5) - Prologue: Bleeding Heart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 5, Prologue: Bleeding Heart



“This, too, shall pass.”






The waning moon glowed a pale hue to the soprose landscape below Canterlot, with shadows darker than the sky as we hid beneath thick-leafed trees. We had hunkered down near the edge of a treeline, sitting behind a log overgrown with moss. The lights of the hanging city itself gleamed off neighboring mountains, reflecting beneath its sturdy foundations to the sleepy village that sat beneath it.

A few hundred meters westward sat a busy village, with several homes flickering candles from its windows. A few ponies were busy setting up decorations. Despite being so late at night, an air of bustling festivity lingered. Violet streamers of Celestia’s golden sun embroidered around Luna’s pale moon hung from the brackets, lanterns burning golden blue flames dangling on wooden posts, and crackling fireplaces hosting various circles of ponies telling stories to younger-looking foals.

I traded wary glances between the village and the skies above Canterlot, waiting for potential followers to appear. Only Luna’s starry constellations greeted me in kind.

“Hold still,” Night Light asks with a quiver in her tone.

I winced through my teeth with a grimace as I felt a debriding sensation of broken glass methodically removed from my body with extreme caution. I close my eyes, trying to block the pain from my mind. 

Instead, memories of the ponies I had killed barely an hour prior greeted me. A sickly vine tugs around my stomach as I remember the bloody escapade from S.M.I.L.E.

Shaking my head, I looked to the ground at the ever-growing pile of bloody shards lying atop a pool of caked crimson. The lacerations bled thick trails of crimson down my barrel and limbs.

Night Light grunted as she removed one more shard, earning another wince from me. “There, that was the last one.”

I let go of a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Looking down on my body to see the trails of blood create crimson channels through dirt and grime surrounding my fetlocks was a queer enough sight to twist my stomach.

“This looks bad.” My throat croaked. I suddenly realized how dehydrated I was.

“It is bad,” she speaks with a grim look on her face, “I mean, look at you!”

As I looked down at my body, seeping and stained with blood, the realization hits me. I was completely drenched in blood, looking like a serial killer from a horror novel.

I glance at the village. I see some houses are still alight in the windows. I look at the moon in the eastern sky, indicating a young night. The ponies residing inside were still awake, from the looks of it. Many of them were moving around the village with mirthful energy. 

They can help us, but would they?

“It hasn’t stopped bleeding since Canterlot,” Night Light interjects my thoughts with a low whisper. I turn and see Night Light trailing her gaze on the trails of blood seeping down my legs.

I was drawing a blank in my mind. It was hard to formulate thoughts, and I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea to suggest. No course of action to recommend, no plan to fixate on. There is only a mute nod of acknowledgment as my eyes drift down to my bleeding body. 

Droplets stained the blades of grass beneath us. Burning tendrils of pain lick my limbs as I put pressure on them.

Maybe it was the blood loss, but the energy from my body was waning by the second. The adrenaline from our escape had crashed down to earth long ago, but my limbs were now starting to feel heavier than my eyelids. Fatigue was slowly winning the battle of attrition against my body.

I felt colder in the limbs, and my head was swimming in jumbled thoughts. Memories of me running through sterile hallways behind Night Light plaster against my frontal cortex every time I close my eyes.

Yeah, it’s probably the blood loss.

With a hard blink, I dispel the hazy memories, turning my eyes to Night Light. “So… what do we do now?” I spoke with a noticeable slur. 

“We need to get you cleaned up and treated as fast as possible,” Night Light scans the village in desperation before turning her eyes back to Canterlot. “We ask for help, and we hope to Celestia that somebody will listen.”

I’m starting to feel dizzy in the head. But through the fog, one thought pierced beyond the uncertainty plaguing me.

“That’s all we got?” I pressed incredulously with a raised brow.  “To hope somebody helps us?”

Night Light didn’t answer, her eyes trailing down at my hooves.

“Isn’t this dangerous?” I slurred again, “Won’t they come looking for us here?” 

Night Light trades a wary glance to Canterlot, then locks eyes back to me with a firm stare.

“Do you want to bleed throughout the night?” she asks tersely. “Because I do not!”

I didn’t answer. My eyes trailed down to my legs, furrowing as they saw them bleeding a thick crimson trail. 

Night Light sighs through her nostrils as her shoulder sags alongside her frown.

“It’s the only chance you’ve got. They‘ll try to look for us in Cloudsdale first, so I think we have time.”

A cold breeze billows through the blades of grass and into the forest behind us, sending shivers through my skin. I can hear the voice in my dreams warning me now.

You are running out of time.

I shake my head, focusing on Night Light. She begins to clamber over the log we hid behind for the past half-hour. “… Can you walk?” she twists her body to ask me.

I press my weight down against the caked dirt with my hooves. Tendrils of hot pain shoot through my nerves. Each step earns a wince through my teeth. It took effort for me to stand up, let alone move forward.

“Not on my own,” I admitted, leaning on the fallen tree with a grimace. 

She hooks a foreleg over my neck, craning her neck down as I do the same to her until we both are supporting each other for leverage. 

“Keep moving,” She instructed as we shuffled forward in a careful canter. The limp toward the village was agonizingly slow, each step earning a sharp breath through my teeth as tears pricked my eyes—with droplets of crimson staining the grass all the while. Eventually, after two minutes of awkward shuffling, we caught the look of some ponies staring at us incredulously, like we were ghosts from the Everfree.

“Please, somepony help!” Night Light calls out from my side with desperation lathered in her tone. All eyes that were outside now stared at us, but none immediately sprung to action until Night Light cried out again. “She’s hurt bad! She needs help, please!”

A few ponies started approaching us with caution. One got closer to get a good look at me: A thestral mare in her mid-twenties with a slender physique in the limbs and dark grey in the coat. The vertical slits in her lavender pupils were dead giveaways. When she spotted me—bruised, drenched, bleeding profusely from multiple lacerations, and growing weaker by the minute—she stopped cold with wide eyes. 

“Sweet Goddesses,” she gasps in shock, fangs glistening in the moonlight before being smothered by a hoof to the mouth. “What happened to her?!”

“Does it matter?!” Night Light shouts with a hint of desperation, the thestral flinching at her tone. “She needs a doctor! Now!”

“Er… okay,” she snaps out of her stupor with a shake of her head, “Okay, yes, I know who can help! Can she walk?”

“Not on her own,” Night Light answers frantically, prompting the Thestral mare to return to the village behind her with a bellowing shout. 

“BERRY!”

I look up to see the head of a stallion perk up from an ever-growing crowd of onlookers before taking off in a gallop toward us. Brushing past several ponies, he too was a thestral, just like the mare who greeted us, aqua-eyed and burly in the limbs with a cold mulberry hue in his coat.

“What is-” he speaks in baritone, stopping midsentence as his eyes widen at the sight of me.

Here, standing before the thestrals, stood two mares. 

One of them supports the other, the latter caked in blood. The stench of copper pervades the air relentlessly, assaulting everybody’s nostrils as more red liquid oozes out several deep incisions. The wounds decorate my body as if I had entered a fight with a Timberwolf and lost. My eyes were heavy, but they paled to the weight of gravity, tugging my limbs down with slow, painful exertion. The skin grew pale as it lost too much of its nectar to continue functioning.

And beneath all of that—all of the stained streaks of crimson that caked my coat, all the potentially fatal wounds that carved me up like a pumpkin, all the fatigue that felt heavier than the mountains that towered kilometers above us—stood me. 

A bleeding pegasus mare who had lost everything, aside from the pony she was leaning on.

His eyes harden into an understanding frown. “Okay, I see. Quinna, what do you need?” he quickly pivots his attention to the mare. 

“We’re going to take her to Bleeding Heart’s house. Can you carry her?”

He nods as his sharp wings begin to flap. Hovering in front of me with practiced precision, he offers his forehooves to me in silence. “Give her to me.”

Night Light gives him a wary look. 

“I promise to be gentle. You have my word.”

She glances down at me, and I nod to her.

“Do it,” I answer.

Her eyes frowned hesitantly but nodded and began to lift me into the stallion’s arms. Pain shot through my limbs in a roaring fire, earning a cry from my lips. Trails of my blood began to stain his coat.

“Sorry,” I muttered through the tears, trying to blink them away.

“It’s okay,” Berry answers softly, tilting his weight to the ground as he hovered forward. My vision was getting swimmy, and the world spun around me as my head felt dizzier and dizzier. 

I could see Night Light following behind me with fear in her features, Quinna trailing alongside her in mutual concern. Their eyes continued to follow along the streaks of blood trailing my body, dripping to the bottom of my fetlocks.

“What happened to her?” Quinna asked Night Light. The latter gazed at the ground with her head hung low.

“... A long story,” she answers, sounding too tired to divulge in the thestral’s curiosity. “But the short version is she jumped out of a window.”

“Really?” Quinna’s tone bordered with disbelief and curiosity. “A window did all of this?!”

“... Not all of it.”

There was a pause.

“Like I said, long story.” Night Light finishes. I look up from Berry’s arms to see Night Light gluing her gaze to the ground she trodded on, with Quinna keeping quiet.

As we floated past loosely piled cobblestone streets and fenced-out homes of thatch, Berry took a slight detour along a dirt path diverging away from most homes. It carried up a small hill, with a lonely cabin constructed out of logs standing proudly at the top. A single mailbox sticks out from the side of the dirt path before ending at a staircase leading up to a roofed porch. 

The chimney was empty of smoke. No lights emanate from the windows, and it looked like nopony was home.

“Quinna, can you knock for me?” Berry asks, the former nodding as she steps up to the thick door of Cedarwood.

Bom! Bom! Bom!

Quick and decisive knocks were followed by a hasty retreat as if Quinna was dreading what was to come. 

“Brace yourself,” she warns Berry, who nods in mute acknowledgment.

'Brace yourself?' For what?

Focusing on that thought proved to be a challenge as my head was starting to feel foggy. My eyes were growing heavier and heavier.

Berry lifts me with a sudden motion, jolting me back awake.

“Stay with us now, don’t doze off…” Berry instructs. 

Easy for him to say. He’s not the one bleeding to death.

Oh, right. I’m bleeding to death... I should probably stay awake.

Night plants a hoof on my forehead, stroking my mane gently as I looked up at her eyes. I stare at her upside-down figure, looking into me with genuine terror as she inspects my wounds again.

“... Who is Bleeding Heart?” Night Light gazes at Quinna with a raised brow.

“Our village doctor. He is the best we got.”

I gaze back at the door, still too dark inside to indicate anybody living there.

“... It… doesn’t look like anypony’s home.” I slurred.

Berry grunts with frustration, “Come on, you lazy bastard...” He mutters to himself.

“Did he not hear us?” Quinna asks with worry.

As the words left her mouth, I could hear clicking from beyond the door. The locking mechanisms groaned with exertion until the doorknob tilted down and swung open with a loud croak.

Inside revealed a pair of eyes tinted in amber, glaring at us with what appeared to be contempt.

“What is it?” an old voice, coarse like sandpaper grating against the skin, greets us discontentedly.

“Doctor Bleeding Heart,” Berry nods, “I am very sorry to disturb you at this hour, but we need your help.”

Bleeding Heart’s eyes locked onto mine after Berry spoke, trailing down my body. They softened upon inspecting my wounds before stiffening again at Berry’s words.

“... It is midnight,” He replies with a lathered bitterness, “I was supposed to get up five hours from now.” 

“She’s losing a lot of blood, doctor. I don’t think this is something to wait on.” Berry presses aggressively.

A guttural sigh emits from the door. “Give me a moment,” he answers before closing the door behind him.

A few seconds pass. From inside, I heard the hum of a unicorn’s magic as candles and lanterns from the house flicker on, one by one. Clicking noises from the locking mechanisms shudder into place before the door swings inward once again with an even louder groan.

Inside stood a bitter-looking Unicorn who was well past his physical prime. The coat had washed away its peach color long ago, leaving behind a hollow and duller shade of its former glory. His starchy gray mane and overlapping layers of wrinkles sagging down his forehead betrayed his age and enfeeblement. 

Yet beneath the milky eyes of dull hazel was a spark of intelligence that dwarfed my own, decades of experience outshining all of my existence.

And they looked cranky, upset for being disturbed from their peaceful slumber.

“Lay her atop the cot, carefully.” He points inside. As Berry floats in, the decorum of the interior overtakes me all at once. 

A wooly rug sat beneath a round coffee table of carved oakwood, with various sofas circling the table in the center of the living room. Small dressers that hosted flower pots made of clay—hosting lilacs and lavenders—sat beneath the windowsill to bask in the moonlight. An empty chimney dominates the face of a wall leading further back to the cabin before splitting open to reveal a hallway with the bedroom door slightly ajar at the end.

The Kitchen was located next to the front door, with cabinets constructed out of finely carved planks of beech wood running all along the wall before ending at a vertice. A window above the sink gave an excellent view of the lit village beneath the hill we stood upon. I could hear the faucet dripping down the drain with sporadic droplets.

Berry floats past Bleeding Heart and retreats to a wall with no windows and two small cots. The cots were only four metal legs supporting a square frame that tethered a drab olive-green cloth—with springs and coils suspending the fabric mid-air as taut as a coiled rope. Berry gently lays me down atop the scratchy fabric, blood dripping onto the hardwood floors all the while.

“Berry, you are going to help me clean this mess, and that is not a suggestion.”

“Of course,” he nods quickly, “Do you want me to start now, or…?”

“That can wait; get yourself ready. You’re gonna be my assistant. Just gimme a minute.” He trots down the hallway into his bedroom.

I look to my left, seeing Night Light sitting on her haunches beside me. Her eyes never stopped frowning, drifting from my wounds to my gaze. Despite everything, seeing her sitting by my side made my heart swell.

I look beyond her to see Berry in the corner of the room, adorning himself with latex gloves and a cloth mask from two boxes, standing atop a bookshelf.

My vision is starting to darken.

“Sunshine?” Night Light notices my eyes drifting shut, cupping a hoof under my cheek.

“...Tired,” The words float from my mouth in a mumble.

“Hey, no, no, no, don’t do that! Stay awake, just stay awake!” I remember hearing voices, but they were drowned away. 

There were sounds heard but no words. The last thing I saw was Night Light standing over me in panic.





The klaxons shriek a shrill blare, echoing off the claustrophobic halls in a deafening din.

It felt like needles were stabbing my ears, and hot coals seared my lungs with each breath. My heart was thundering as it threatened to burst out of my chest. The halls were tinted red from the sirens. The bulbs mounted against the walls spun in perpetual motion, squeaking with each revolution. 

All I could do was run away from the danger that followed me. I dared not look back as I sprinted in a mad dash forward, frantically carrying one hoof after another in this seemingly infinite hallway. Pain enveloped my nerve endings like a roaring inferno, burning me inside out as I continued to gallop.

The floors were starting to feel slippery. I gaze down to see a pool of blood drowning my hooves, splashing up my limbs with each step. Caked blood now stained my coat from the neck down, speckles of it blurring my vision as it splashed against my face. The taste of copper stains my tongue and burns my nostrils.  

Terror seizes me. I know with a simple certainty that if I stop now, I will die. That ever-familiar feeling of loss grips its sharp vices around my heart as it quaked into a crescendo. The fear of death overtakes any other thought; adrenaline courses me as I wade slower and slower into ever-growing pools of crimson.

The hallway feels endless. There is no escape in sight. I dare not look behind me as a shrill scream pierces through the thundering heartbeat in my eardrums.

My breathing verged on hyperventilation, my heart thundering away, threatening to explode. I keep trudging forward, now swimming in the ocean of blood. It rises without slowing and threatens to drown me. It overtakes my shoulders as panic grips my psyche. It smothers my neck as I gasp for one last defiant breath and close my eyes.

And then there was darkness.

I held on for as long as I physically could—the burning in my lungs, combined with the pain in my limbs and the draining of all energy in my body, forced me to surrender to the weight pulling me down. I feel myself sinking as I exhale the oxygen in my lungs. 

I open my eyes to see nothing but a smothering shadow blinding me. I willed my limbs to move, but it was like swimming in tar, each movement more exerting than the last.

Everywhere I looked revealed nothing but a dark and murky expanse surrounding me. It drowned my ears and burned my nostrils and eyes. I began to gag for air beneath its thick waves. 

My eyes drift down to the bottom of the abyss. Darkness awaited me.

But buried beneath all the pale, cold depths of the seemingly endless plane of liquid that surrounded me, the briefest glimmer caught my eyes. It looked like a gold coin shining from the bottom of the pool.

No such coin exists, I knew. Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me as I was finally going brain-dead. Or perhaps it was Elysium greeting me with open arms.

My chest convulses in a violent spasm as a sudden, but sharp pain pierces through my abdomen.

The light at the bottom of the pool glares brighter until everything is smothered in silver light.





Oxygen billows into my burning lungs as I struggle with my first gasps for fresh air. A canvas of silver light encompassed my vision, branding my retinas with burning splotches of discoloration everywhere I looked.

“She’s coming around!”

A searing nail pierces my head and travels down my eye, quaking in energy. The splitting migraine blinds me for a few moments as I can see nothing but bright light glaring down my pupils. My breathing quickens alongside the pace of my heart as I feel the sensation of pain returning to my body in full force.

The light blinks out of existence, leaving a splotch of discoloration swimming about my vision as the flashlight is pulled away. I feel the sensation of a needle poking me as it slowly slides out of my chest. A feeling of warmth is gradually seeping to the bottom of my core, euphoric and energetic. It courses into my limbs soon after as my vision comes back, though the cold in my limbs threatens to drown the warmth. 

Two ponies, Berry and Bleeding Heart, circled me, each with masks protecting their snouts, latex gloves to protect their hooves, and sterile white coats covering their bodies.

“Rejoov potion! Now!” I heard a scraggly voice bark above my head, my ears ringing slightly. I feel a hoof gently cup the back of my neck and lift it upward, chin level with the ground, as a round flask filled with bubbling-greenish liquid cusps around my lips.

“Drink! All of it!” I see Berry staring firmly into my eyes with his order. I do as he says, greedily gulping every last drop of the foul-tasting concoction until nothing remains. (Why do they always taste so bad?) I gagged my throat after swallowing the last drop. The burning nail in my head starts to recede as the contents spill into my stomach. The pain was still there, and it was still intense, but it didn’t threaten to blind me, at least.

“Shit. Some of these are too deep, Doctor.” Berry speaks with a grim frown in his eyes.

“I know,” Bleeding Heart interjects Berry with a raised hoof. “First things first; gimme the bottle!”

I twist my head around the cot to look around the room, trying to find Night Light and Quinna. Only Berry and Bleeding Heart were in the room with me. 

“Where…” A hoof twisted my head back to the cot, gently laying it down. I barely got the word out as Berry answered me.

“They’re outside,” he says, “and you need to rest. They will be fine.” He gives Bleeding Heart a plastic bottle filled with transparent liquid with a wing. 

“I’m sorry to say that this procedure is going to be painful,” Bleeding Heart warned with a hum of magic from his horn, the bottle carefully pouring the contents onto several cotton balls. “We’ll have to stitch some of these lacerations together.”

A ball of dread plummets to my stomach at those words, chilling my blood all across my limbs as they begin to shake. 

This was going to suck.

“Can’t you just use your magic to heal the wounds?” Berry asks from the foot of my cot, watching on with a troubled look on his features.

Bleeding Heart groans in petulant frustration as if he had heard that question thousands of times before. 

“First rule of thermodynamics: Matter and energy can neither be created nor destroyed. The spell matrix needs focal points to be concise enough to be grounded in reality. The spell can’t just fabricate-”

A frustrated groan escapes Berry’s throat, “In ponish, please.”

I look up to see Bleeding Heart rolling his eyes as he closes the cap on the bottle. “I can’t magically tell the wound to create new skin cells because I can’t teach my horn how to do six years of medical school in six seconds!” He gripes with a bitter sigh, “As powerful as they are, magic and alchemy can only do so much for the body alone. The rest falls onto us.”

Bleeding Heart clears his throat, locking eyes on me as his magic holds several cotton balls saturated in disinfectant. “Grit your teeth. This is going to hurt.”

I do his bidding, closing my eyes as I braced myself. The cold, damp liquid drips onto my coat until it makes contact with all the incisions simultaneously. 

“Tss-Aggh!”

My limbs thrashed about immediately, feeling the disinfectant burning my wounds in a frigid fire.

“Berry, hold her down.”

Firm hooves dug into my coat, pushing me into the cot as the springs squeaked in exertion. “Sorry about this,” Berry whispers.

The saturated clumps of cotton returned to the wounds as they dug inside the soft crevices of flesh, soaking into a soppy crimson mess. Burning, searing agony shoots up my body. I willed it to move, but it could only kick its limbs as Berry held me down.

For about thirty mind-numbing seconds, he dug those wads into me, though it felt like an eternity had passed. When the bloody clumps retreated, the cuts felt cold and numb. The burning sensation retreats from the wounds, amalgamating into the bubbly warmth seeping into my stomach. A cocktail of pain and relief swims violently in my head, making me dizzy. 

It feels like I am in a fever dream.

“That rejuvenation potion should do the trick, right?” Berry asks hopefully.

“For the most part,” Bleeding Heart replies as he wipes a scalpel and a pair of surgical scissors with another saturated cotton ball. “But a few of her wounds need closing, and we gotta do it ourselves.”

“What did you dose her with?”

“Anesthetic with epinephrine.”

“... Isn’t that-”

“Yes, and yes. She’ll be fine.” Bleeding Heart groans with another roll of his eyes before locking on to mine. “It won’t be enough to make the pain go away, I’m sorry to say. It’s mainly to prevent your brain from going into shock. I’ll try to be quick, but I need these to be precise. Do you understand?”

I nodded meekly, feeling no energy to protest. There wasn’t much of a choice anyway. A golden hue of magic enveloped my being as I felt the sudden absence of gravity overtake me. I suddenly felt weightless. 

He lifts me into the air a few inches before proceeding to roll me onto my belly. Several of the incisions slashed along my flanks and ribs. I could feel most of the smaller ones beginning to close together on their own—a token to the work of the Rejuvenation potion.

The rest of them, as Bleeding Heart said, would have to be closed manually. I twist my head over my shoulder to see Bleeding Heart wrapping a purple thread around his gloved hoof, fishing it out of a sterile-looking contraption on a metal rolling tray at the edge of my cot. Floating beside him with a hum from his horn was a thin needle that curved toward the floor at an angle. He gingerly threads the needle  and loops it around to fish it through a second time before tying it taut together.

My heart begins to beat faster, feeling my arms grow numb as fear grips me for what is to come. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes.

A tugging sensation around my upper flank stretched the skin flaps of the laceration. I winced through my teeth with deep breaths as fiery tendrils licked my body. My brain quivers in apprehension and pain, daring not to peer behind me.

“Do you need a count?” Bleeding Heart asks me. I quickly nodded. “On three, then.” I nod again.

“One. Two. Three.”

The needle punctures through the skin and pierces through the other side with a burning prick. 

“NN-AH-TSSSKKGGGAAAAAAH!” I scream through my teeth, Berry grinding his hooves around my spine as he readjusted his weight. It burns like Celestia’s sun has descended to scorch me. I felt my brain fry in the sensory overload, desperately sending signals down my body to flail and flee. To resist and run. But there was no escape.

I feel a thin string of fabric course through my flesh as it loops underneath the skin, puncturing through another angle and surfacing through my coat onto the other side. Tears pricked in my scrunched eyes. The wound was pulling itself closer together, agonizingly slow. As the thread pulled taut enough to connect the skin back together, the needle swerved around to prod again. Soon, another puncture pushed inside my wound.

“NNNNNNAAHGGTSKAAAAAAAH!!” My throat growled, my cheeks wet with tears, and my teeth painfully ground against the gums of my jaw as I pressed all my weight against them. Copper stained my tongue and permeated my nostrils as I could feel the wound closing through his efforts—one agonizing puncture at a time.

The needle pokes through the wound's surface again, pulling the cut closer together. I could feel my skin touching as the suture coiled ever tighter. Salty tears blurred my vision. I could feel my skin cells rupture and pull at the seams as that damned needle came back around for one more pass. Berry’s hooves dug deeper into my skin. 

“Almost there!” I heard Bleeding Heart speak through my screams.

“NNNYAAAGHSGAAAAGHHHAHAAA!”

Everything washed away in a drowning delirium. My world only consisted of burning, furious agony, licking my body like Diamond Dogs hungry for their next meal. 

I attempted to open my eyes, seeing stars and twinkling lights through blurry tears. I smelled and tasted copper with a hint of sterile rubbing alcohol. I felt fire licking its agonizing tendrils all around my wounds, burning my skin cells away one ruptured seam at a time.

Am I dead? Is this death? Eternal torment? Did I deserve this?

Through the hazy delirium of my thoughts, I kept wishing to myself to pass out and to go to sleep. No such command bore any fruit. Another prod at the needle earns more tears from my eyes. My skull pulses in agony, the nail in my head slowly debriding me inside out with each passing second.

A squelch noise was heard from behind me as I felt the thread rubbing against my inner flesh in a burning sensation. But at this point, the wound was well closed together now. As Bleeding Heart pulled the thread back and pulled it all together in a tight pattern of interwoven knots, I somehow understood without a word spoken that this was the final puncture to pull through.

“Done,” Bleeding Heart confirms my interpretation, “gauze,” he simply asks with an extended hoof, Berry complying with a deft toss from his hoof. The thick, pink dressing unravels from the roll in his magic grip, pressing the soft fabric all around my barrel multiple times to cover up all the wounds across my body. He lifts my sweating, crying, nearly unconscious body in the air with his magic a few times to ensure he covers every inch of the wound there is.

“One more rejuvenation potion,” Bleeding Heart speaks the next item off atonally as he levitates another flask of bubbling-greenish liquid to my lips. I groaned in protest at the taste but otherwise began to chug it all as fast as I could. Only a few drops dribbled down my chin as I drank.

As I finished, I felt drained—in every sense of the word. My body felt like it had been running a triathlon, bleeding and starving. My limbs were burning in exertion as if they had exercise fatigue. My eyes felt heavy, and my brain demanded sleep at the whim. 

And it was so very tempting to listen to it telling me to sleep.

“Is she done?” Berry asks above me. I didn’t bother to move my head, I only tuned my ears to the conversation.

“No, not even close. She needs plasma in her system fast.”

“Please tell me you have some,” Berry asks with a hint of worry.

“I have thestrals in the village giving me donations to keep me supplied just to make me stay here.” He remarks with a hint of pride, “I always have plasma; it’s just…” he trails off with a hitch in his tone. “It’s only Thestral blood I’ve been donated to. I’m not sure if Pony and Thestral Plasma are compatible with one another. And I can’t risk trying.”

“... How bad is she?” Berry asks, fear lathered in his tone.

“Bad.”

It was one word, but it was said in such a way that it spoke volumes. 

“... What about that Mare she was with?”

Another pause at the mention of Night Light. I felt my heart thunder faster.

“Could work. Depends on the blood type they are. If she has blood type AB, then it could work. Their plasma is universal.”

“So we ask her to donate her blood then, right?” Berry asks hopefully.

“Not that simple,” Bleeding Heart sighs. “The amount of blood she lost is more than two whole units worth. And I cannot drain a pony for more than two units worth in one day. And even if I could—never mind all the health implications that may have for the donor—but even if I could, it wouldn’t be enough. She has lost too much.”

There was a tense quiet after those words. I could hear Berry swallow his throat behind me. My eyes were closed now, too heavy to keep open.

So this was how I died? Jumping out through a window?

How boring.

“What now?” Berry asks. Bleeding Heart sighs.

“We give the mare the bad news.”

Another uneasy silence. I wanted to protest. To scream. I tried to fight. I wanted to defy the world.

And yet, fighting didn’t feel right. For the first time I could remember, I felt tired.

Not like the physical fatigue one would get, but something more profound. 

I was drifting off. A chilly blanket of dread encompasses me for what is to come. I wasn’t sure if would wake up this time. Maybe this was my last sleep.

Maybe I shouldn’t be scared. Perhaps this was what I deserved.

As I heard hoofsteps retreat behind me to the front door, recent memories flashed in front of my mind’s eye in a slideshow.

How I killed the ponies in the elevator.

How I trotted back covered in blood to see Night Light.

How we escaped S.M.I.L.E. Agency with nothing but the skins on our backs.

How we made it all this way. Even after everything.

After the Great War. After all the torment and suffering. All the long years of desperate fighting.

All I had ever done was fight.

And look what it got me—bleeding out in a random cot in the middle of nowhere, as an enemy of the state, most likely.

I felt my energy fade with each passing second. Each memory was more exhausting than the last. Everything that had happened leading up to this moment, it all felt pointless. It felt like my entire life was wasted on something that never mattered.

At least, that was how it felt at the moment. I wasn’t sure if I was still me or if I was already dead. I could hear nothing but my waning heartbeat in my eardrums. I could feel nothing but a chilly pain creeping up my limbs and spine. I could see nothing but a dark, primordial soup inside my mind’s eye.

The potion’s effects were kicking in now. I felt lethargic and dull in the senses. My brain was going mute for the first time in a long time—no hauntings of ghosts, no memories of death, no thoughts of past failures plaguing me. It was like the universe singing me a lullaby.

Only the blank canvas of the inevitable stared back at me. 

And it was beautiful.
> Interlude: Stars
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Interlude: Stars



“No trumpets shall be heard when the important decisions of our lives are made. Destiny is made known silently.”





Once upon a time, there was the magical land of Equestria.

In this land, two regal sisters ruled together, creating harmony for all the different types of ponies. To do this, the eldest used her magic to raise the sun at dawn and begin the day, while the younger brought out the moon at dusk to start the night. 

Thus, the two sisters maintained a balance between their kingdom and their subjects, and all who lived in Equestria lived under their protective wings. 

But as time passed, ponies frolicked and prospered during the day, only to retreat into their homes and slumber during the night. Many did so out of fear for the darkness that followed the younger sister’s night. 

Superstition reigned supreme in Equestria’s youth, thinking the night wicked while cursing those who dared to leave their protective homes.

As the younger sister watched her subjects shun her night sky—her constellations and beautiful moon—she wept.

Consulting with her sister about her woes, she detested the hypocrisy and ignorance that her pony subjects had shown. 

The eldest heard her cry, her plea for things to change, and she listened.

Thus, as the legend goes, the first thestrals were created by the two alicorn sisters. 

Whether thestrals were created with the alicorns’ combined magic or born from natural selection is still debated. But it is agreed upon that the thestrals first appeared in Equestria nearly a century before Luna’s banishment to the moon.

The younger sister found herself happy for a time as the thestrals continued to thrive beneath the pale moonlight of her moon, unafraid against the darkness of the night. She was content with her role as the moon's custodian beforehoof, but now? She was ecstatic.

The thestrals recognized Luna as if she were their mother. They knew nothing to fear from the night so long as they lived close to their princess. They knew their existence meant the world to the princess of the night and would live happily in her name.

But not all was well for Equestria. 

As the thestral population grew, so too did their woes. Many tribes harbored mistrust against the ‘Batponies,’ as they had taken to calling them. Neither Pegasi, Unicorn, nor Earth Pony had any inclination to live with the thestrals. The latter’s nocturnal nature only solidified the tribes’ belief that the night was cursed and wicked. 

Many foal tales during this early period revolved around curses of darkness and the moon; One detailed how a pony would become a thestral should they wander out at night. The tribes became isolated from the thestrals, always conflicting as water does to oil. The animosity only grew with time. 

And the princess of the moon wept once more for the injustice she had witnessed; she grew resentful, hateful even, of the ponies who shunned her children. Her ire for Ponykind's ugliness festered like a tumor in her heart. How her children could be victims of such baseless prejudice was lost on her.

Embittered as she was, however, the princess of the moon did not wish to see her people become vengeful against Equestria. More than anything, she wanted ponies to be treated fairly and with cause. She hoped thestrals and ponies would live together—not as enemies but as brothers and sisters, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, friends and lovers. 

And so, once again, the youngest pleaded to her sister. And the eldest listened. 

The legend continues with the princess of the sun praying to the aethers surrounding her powerful beneficiary in the sky—gracing the land with its warmth and light. She inquires for guidance on improving the situation and illuminating a better path for Equestria. Or, at the very least, to relieve her sister's burdens and aid her in ruling Equestria. 

Many are dubious about what happens next, and the legend has aged poorly over the millennia; no creature on the planet, save for the princesses themselves, knew what happened that day. Did the universe really answer the demigod alicorns of Equestria to their plea, as the legend suggests? Or did some inexplicable miracle happen?

Whatever the case, the legend of the ‘Mare of the Moon’ continues after Celestia’s prayer. When the youngest sister retreated from Night Court to retire for the day, she was greeted with a dream.

It was no ordinary dream, nor was it a nightmare. It was something new. When the princess opened her eyes, she was surrounded by a dark and quiet expanse that stretched to an endless horizon. It was as if she was nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, trapped in limbo. 

Then, she saw a tiny prick of pale light glinting on the horizon. 

She could hear a hum reverberating in her ears, and she felt a gentle tug in her heart. Following the light, she hears the hum grow louder, her heart beating faster. The tone is transparent yet defined. It didn’t sound like a hum but a single musical note pulsing with the light. As she gets closer, the light blinks with another hum. As if it acknowledges her presence. 

And then another pulse was heard. This pitch sounded higher, emitting somewhere above Luna. She looks up to see a second light blinking around her head. This one was tinted lavender.

And then a third hum from behind her. She turns and spots a cheery pink light blinking into existence. 

And then another, a brilliant teal. 

And then a majestic purple. 

Then a lovely Cerise. 

A graceful duet pair of Amber and Gold. 

A pair of violet motes pranced and tumbled around one another like children dancing around, laughing, while a teal and green pair hovered attentively nearby.

More lights appeared, each with its own note. Its own music. Its own symphony. Its own laughter. Its own life. 

They were like stars in the night sky.

Hundreds. Thousands… Millions.

She wept. For she knew with quiet certainty that these were the souls of the dead.

The aethers gave Luna access to the plane of dreams and nightmares. And with it, the ability to guide them to their final resting place: Elysium. 

The Princess began to interact with each star with mirthful grace. She would guide wayward children back to their parents. She would reunite loved ones separated from tragedy. She would kiss the old and feeble goodnight for one last dream. She would guide lost souls to their homes. She would save those who suffered from nightmares and grant reprieve. She would protect those who would dream about the terrors their minds could conjure.

Following Luna’s dream that morning, the younger princess awakens with a new sense of purpose, feeling rejuvenated and at peace with herself. Though it did little to ease her heart about her people’s plight.

As time passed, Luna had another alias for her title: ‘The Princess of Dreams.’ She would guide the ponies who slumbered away from their dark thoughts in the night. And for centuries, this harmony between day and night would ensure Equestria’s prosperity in its early history.

As Equestria grew, so did her troubles. The ponies’ territories expanded alongside their expectations. The promises of a utopia drove them to the edges of their known world, expanding the borders to encompass more than a third of the continent of Equus. 

Unfortunately for them, this path to utopia was not free from strife; Deer raiders from Olenia pillaged their coastlines for months, changeling raiding parties abducted ponies into their hives, and ponies still grew more distrustful of the thestrals despite the princess’s best efforts. 

Many thestrals began to flee away from the isolation and deprivation they faced. No towns that weren’t thestral were willing to cooperate with them and started to migrate them further south. The three tribes drove them away, some of them managing to flee Equestria entirely to go south to another continent hitherto unknown to the ponies at the time. 

The nightmares Luna would face in their dreams proved more potent than she had previously encountered. What’s more, Luna began to feel the prosecution personally. Many ponies, except for a vocal minority of her people, still deemed the night cursed and wicked, even after many years of attempting to persuade them otherwise. 

Thus, they saw thestrals as spawns of the night, deeming them ‘less than ponies.’ Some of them would direct their ire onto the younger princess herself.

Nearly one month before Luna’s banishment to the moon, the first thestral death from Equestrian hooves was recorded.

Luna wept once more. But these were not tears of sorrow. She had been hurt far too many times in her heart from the stubborn ugliness she had witnessed. Equestria, she thought, was tainted to its core.

The legend continues with Luna pleading to her sister one last time. 

She cried out for her people's injustices, cursing the lack of effort to change it. She weeps and screams until her throat is parched and hoarse, lamenting to Celestia at her apparent indifference to her people’s plight.

And Celestia did not heed her sister’s plight. 

She states that changing the ponies’ hearts and minds after decades of failure is too much of a herculean undertaking. She states that it was not up to them to change the ponies and that the latter must change themselves before real progress can be made. 

She urges patience, but Luna detests against inaction. Resentment coursed through the nation's veins and festered into Luna’s soul.

Many tales and legends focus on the aftermath of this decision, yet they fail to indeed regard the severity and weight of Celestia’s words at this particular moment. 

Those who did, however, stated with no uncertain terms that the echoes of Celestia’s decision would continue reverberating throughout the millennia following Luna’s banishment. 

They gave this moment in time a name. 

‘Celestia’s Folly.’ 

The day she lost her sister before banishment.

Digressing from that, many accounts describe what happened afterward with conflicting accuracy. Following the news, Luna would not leave her room for days. She only moves when driven by her innate desire to bring in the night and protect ponies' dreams. 

However, one fact remains certain across all the stories and folklore surrounding this tumultuous time: On the seventh day after ‘Celestia’s Folly,’ the sun would rise into the sky.

But the moon would not leave.

The princess of the sun tried to lower the moon herself, yet it remained mute as it drifted into the sky, overlapping the sun to create an eclipse. The land below tinted into a dark, crimson hellscape. The moon had eclipsed the sun for hours, robbing equestria of its light and warmth. The sky was cold, as well as the land along with it.

The sun pleaded for it to move… but the moon said no.

What happens next is well known: Luna proclaims that only one princess can rule Equestria and that she will take the mantle. Celestia pleads with her to stop the madness, that they were meant to rule together and not as enemies. Luna dismisses these pleas with a channeled surge of magic, transforming her physical form into what many refer to now as ‘Nightmare Moon.’ 

The legend regards the mythical encounter afterward as ‘The War of Heaven.’ 

The battle starts as the two alicorns of light and dark ascend to the blood-hued sky, the latter pressing the offensive against her former sister with newfound power. The fight was a stalemate for a time as both alicorns fought on an equal footing.

As cunning as Celestia was, Nightmare Moon fought without restraint and with brute force. She kicked in hindquarters, chopped necks, shot bolts of magic at blind spots, bitten skin, and struck against wings in repeated duels of magic and might. 

After almost an hour of jousting, Nightmare Moon scores a decisive blow against her sister, the latter tumbling out of the sky and crashing into the now-ruined castle of the two sisters below.

There and then, as she realizes she cannot persuade nor win against her sister, Celestia employs her last, desperate measure: The Elements of Harmony.

Created by the Pillars of Equestria during the age of heroes, The Elements were a robust collection of magical artifacts that came to represent the virtues of their predecessors. Loyalty, Laughter, Generosity, Honesty, Kindness, and finally—the catalyst to them all—Magic.

Celestia prayed that this day would never come. But sitting beneath the red glow of an eclipsed sun, she found herself out of time and options. Nightmare Moon was basking in her supposed victory against her sister when she spotted a silver alicorn emerge from the ruins below, orbited by six shiny colored gems. 

The two hovered about apart, staring at each other with hesitation. Nightmare Moon was in disbelief at how her sister survived, and Celestia was dreadfully quiet in her deliberate motions. For one last time, Celestia pleads with her sister to stop. To lower the moon and allow the sun to dawn.

And once again, Nightmare Moon refused.

With tears in her eyes, Celestia channels her magic into the artifacts. They pulsed with newfound energy as both alicorns readied their attacks. Two beams of arcane light surged forward and clashed against each other, rupturing the air at the seams of atoms. One tinted dark like the night, and the other shone like the sun. 

As quickly as it began, the duel ended as Nightmare Moon was encompassed in a blinding aura. 

“I’m sorry,” Celestia whispers with a heavy heart. 

The beam pushes beyond her sister's space, and she releases her focus on the spell. The Elements finished their duty and had lost their power in the process, now transmuted into dull rocks.

But Celestia was hardly focused on that. Her eyes drifted to the space where her sister was. And then to the eclipse above her. The moon had an imprint of a dark alicorn’s head, peering back at the world below as the moon began to descend. 

The legend concludes with Equestria waking to find a strange night sky, with distant but powerful sobbing heard across the remains of a ruined castle.





Luna always hated that story.

It wasn’t necessarily the ending that she loathed, but rather the insinuation it gave to ponykind. That they were nothing more but skeptical xenophobes with no love in their hearts for anyone.

The prospect of her origins being weathered with age and misremembered under oral prejudice only fueled her ire against the tale. She had been trying to convince Celestia to update the legend since she returned nearly two decades prior. Progress on that endeavor had been, unfortunately, slow.

She shakes her head clear of tiresome thoughts, finding herself sitting on her haunches on a soft, wooly rug in the middle of her bedroom. She cast her eyes out across the landscape of Equestria through the eastern window, with the moon casting shadows over colorful deciduous trees. 

It was the first month of autumn, creating a beautiful atmosphere across the land. Luna gives a shadow of a smile as she watches her magic at work. She knew her work had only just begun, however.

She would still have Night Court to attend to all the boredom and troubles that came with it. The prospect of ruling the nation never ceased to tire her nor make her feel decades older than she did. 

She gives a weary sigh. Luna had risen earlier than usual due to Celestia setting the sun one hour ahead of schedule. That meant she had one extra hour to work with and had more time to herself before her duties could begin. 

Stretching her limbs with a groan, a blue glow from her horn twists the doorknob open. She turns to her pair of lunar guards waiting outside her bed chambers. 

“Whirlwind?” She called one out by name, prompting a salute from him. 

“Your grace, weren’t you supposed to get up in one hour?”

“I was. Now I require breakfast. Would you kindly inform the kitchen I requested the usual order?” She speaks casually, earning a nod from her protector.

“Yes, ma’am.” He moves swiftly down the hall, the plates on his armor clanking together with each step.

“How goes it, Nova? Quiet?” She asks the second guard at her door.

“Not quiet enough,” he mumbles with apprehension, “apparently, there’s been an emergency in S.M.I.L.E. Something’s got the whole agency in a tizzy.”

Luna gave a slight frown. She rarely engaged with the ponies of S.M.I.L.E. and often criticized their methods and tactics, but whatever was happening over there wasn’t something to ignore. “Do you know what happened?” She asks Nova.

“I heard some ponies got hurt, but I don’t know if it's true. Could be hearsay.”

Luna nodded to herself as she made a note in her mental checklist to investigate S.M.I.L.E. first chance she got. Her thoughts were interrupted when Whirlwind returned, echoes of his plate armor carrying across the halls. “The maids should arrive with your order soon, princess.”

“Thank you kindly,” she nods, “Knock on my door when it arrives.”

“As you say,” Whirlwind gives a bow as he returns to his position beside the door. 

As Luna was about to retreat inside to prepare for the night, soft hoofsteps on velvet carpet reverberated across the marble walls. A pony donned in the maid’s uniform pushes a cart to the bedroom, faster than anypony expected. An aroma of espresso and toasted blueberry bagels pervaded the nostrils with its sweet scent.

“Your breakfast.” the maid announces with a bow. “The kitchen regrets to inform you that we have been out of cream for coffee since yesterday morning. An order from Mareland has been made, but it won’t arrive until morning.”

The sour news quickly dissipated into a smile. “It is alright, thank you.” The princess accepts the loss gracefully, earning a bow from the maid as the former levitates various plates and mugs with a blue hue into her room. “I shall emerge for Night court in an hour from now. Do not have me be disturbed until then.”

“Understood.” Whirlwind answered with a nod, brandishing his SMG closer to his chest as the door shut behind him.

Luna smiled when she finally locked the door, a gentle sigh escaping her throat. The steam from her mug wafted in her nostrils once more as she brought it closer to her snout. A quick cooling spell brought it down to bearable levels as she gave it a testing sip before indulging in a bigger gulp. 

Her bagel was eaten in less than a minute, and she found her stomach content with over fifty minutes to spare before she would have to go. Less than an hour to do dream guarding. 

She usually wouldn’t bother with such a tight time window, but what else could she do besides star gaze and listen to boring reports from army bases? That said, she couldn’t allow herself to get distracted. She set a timer for fifty minutes on a clock beside her window, sitting it on the rug near her haunches as she channels her magic inward.

The grooves of her horn glowed a pale light, clashing with the dancing hues of candles flickering in her bedroom. As the grooves complete their spiral, a sphere manifests from the horn’s tip. Shadows overtake her vision before she closes her eyes. Her world hummed with magic and darkness, the two elements meshing into a ritual that aged older than the caster, older than time immemorial.

The chill in her coat is gone. The sensation of soft carpet on her haunches disappears. As the world melts away, she opens her eyes…


⋆˖⁺‧₊☾₊‧⁺˖⋆


… Into a miasma of colors.

Her eyes grazed from one colorful light to another as if peering through a kaleidoscope. Thousands of stars glimmer and dance in an endless symphony of lingering notes humming across soprose dreams—lively lavender, ostentatious orange; each light marinating in their memories as if preserved in amber.

She smiled at the supernatural beauty. Each star floated like a feather on a breeze, wafting through the atmosphere without direction or control. The lights go wherever the winds of fate will take them, and most souls have no inclination to fight against the flow of time.

There were exceptions to that, of course. Some attempted to live their lives away from the currents of change. A coat of melancholy lathers these souls as they usually have nobody to rely on other than themselves.

Luna finds one such light struggling to lift itself off the water-like surface on the floor. A gentle tug upward sent it flying on its way to wherever it wished to go. She watches the light ascend to the nebula of ever-growing proportions, integrating with other souls as they float about like embers from a fire. 

Tonight was brighter than usual. Most nights were rewarded with a quiet expanse that only hosted a few souls worth considering. Beyond those few souls, however, she mainly found darkness that she was intimately familiar with.

Celestia said it aptly to Twilight Sparkle in a letter, one that Luna read in her own time:

“Luna rarely visits the realm of dreams nowadays. What can she hope to achieve now that the nightmares are real?”

She dispels the thoughts with a head shake, focusing on what's in front of her. Many souls tonight were livelier, and for good reason. Celebration was overtaking all of Equestria everywhere she saw. 

The second anniversary of “Victory Day” was around the corner, just a few more weeks away.

Ponies took it upon themselves to begin festivities early. Many villages and towns—as well as sprawling metropolises—began hanging banners of the royal colors, hosting parties in public places, gathered in squares to sing carols and celebrate their lives.

Another smile creased her lips. It was a rarity to see all of Equestria come together for occasions like this. Only on holidays like Hearths Warming would ponies come together to enjoy each other’s company like this.

The smile darkens when she remembers why they were celebrating. It was not just an appreciation of life itself but also a commendation to those who were lost to the currents of change. To those who had fought, bled, and died for Equestria during their finest hour. 

How many millions of ponies did Equestria lose? How much did her people sacrifice to ensure this peace? How long would this peace last? Would it be another millennium or a decade? Would they learn from past mistakes and try to forge a better world?

Perhaps Equestria was ready, but what of the rest of the world?

Luna frowned as her mind wandered toward unpleasant thoughts. Now was not the time nor place to worry about the future.

Her wings propel her upward in a graceful leap into the aethers. As Luna began to move, her sense of direction was discombobulated. She made no effort to change her course and allowed her momentum to carry her wherever it would. She scans each light that passes by with a smile, finding each of them at peace with themselves and the life they live. 

Only a few souls demanded her attention as she gently tugged them off the floor they wallowed in. She would kiss them, they would fly away to join the others, and she would smile at a job well done. But for the most part, every creature seemed satisfied.

Luna’s momentum eventually slows to a halt. She found herself motionless, floating above the water-like floor with serenity. The stars in the sky billow aimlessly. Some dance with mirth, others float without weight. 

Luna almost smiled until a dreadfully familiar chill traveled up her spine.

It plagues her skin with goosebumps, seemingly out of nowhere. She scans the horizon ahead of her for any lingering souls she may have missed but finds none. She closes her eyes and reaches out into the cosmos with her magic for any lingering dreams she overlooks, but still finds nothing.

The chill turned ice cold. 

Twisting her body around, she finds another expanse of the horizon dimming with darkness. No stars in sight; only a dark expanse awaited her. But deep within that endless desert of nothing, she felt a tug towards it.

Somepony was calling for help.

She leaps forward with a flap of her wings, flying away from the nebula behind her and into the quiet dark that awaited her. 

First, she felt the chills invade her limbs and neck, seeping into her blood as she begins to tremble. With several deep breaths, she tries to calm her body with reassuring thoughts.

Then she felt apprehension. The dread was now palpable, the atmosphere growing thicker and heavier. She does not know where this feeling originated, only that it wasn’t hers. This pony’s fear of death was starting to become her own, festering like a tumor on her psyche.

Then she felt desperation. Fear of the unknown amalgamated with a burning desire to return to life. Luna recognizes this determination, but this pony fought harder than anypony she had witnessed before sending them into Elysium. Almost as if to spite death itself.

As Luna flew onward, her surroundings grew darker and darker. She twists her head behind to see the nebula fade out of view, suffocated by the darkness she was trapped in. At this point, Luna was getting a little anxious. As she turned to face forward, she saw a glint on the water’s surface ahead of her.

She stops dead in her tracks.

Amidst the ever-dimming and suffocating abyss surrounding her everywhere she looked. A single pony sat on her haunches.

Sobbing.

Her cries echoed across the empty plane, choking her salty tears in between shuddering breaths. An aura of despair taints the air around her as her cries darken the night sky. Tears drip onto the water she sat on, creating ripples that send waves across the infinite pond. No light was found anywhere except where she sat, and she grew darker by the second.

Luna stared at the sight of this helpless pony for a short while until it clicked to her with sudden clarity.

She was dying. 

As Luna watches the light around this pony degrade into a shadow, melancholy pieces her heart. She knew it was a lofty wish to hope there would be no guests for Elysium tonight, but she held out hope for it anyway. And it ached her with a great sadness to be wrong in that regard.

Luna begins to descend quietly onto the floor, sitting just behind the pony. As she trotted closer, she got a good look at her phenotype: A grey pegasus with a golden mane.

A tired and dejected voice whimpers from the pegasus as Luna contemplates what to do.

“Who’s there?” she asks, facing away from the princess as she stills her sobbing.

Luna was at a loss for words for a few seconds until she steeled her resolve with a deep breath.

“A friend,” she answers simply. “Who are you?”

The pegasus does not answer. Luna waited patiently, hearing the pegasus steady her breaths with each second passed. A weary sigh was heard.

“I’m nopony now.”

“But you had a name, did you not?” Luna asked politely.

“I did.” The mare contemplates before twisting her body to face whoever she is talking to. Her eyes locked onto Luna’s.

A tense silence followed afterward. The two stared into each other’s gaze for a few long seconds. Until the mare’s gaze hardened with a contemptuous frown. 

“... But you are not my friend.”

The words hurt Luna, but she tried not to show it. Her face remained stoic as she spoke. 

“I would like to be.”

The pegasus’ gaze faltered at those words, her shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no animosity in her voice.

“Sunshine.” She whimpers. “My name was Sunshine Tempest.”

Luna gave a smile. “It is nice to meet you, Sunshine Tempest.”

“Actually,” she looks up at the princess, her eyes level to her chest but daring not to peek at the features on her face. “We’ve met before.”

“Oh? I’m afraid I do not recognize you.”

“You wouldn’t; we didn’t really get acquainted. But I met you before. Several times, actually.”

“How so?” Luna tilts her head in curiosity.

“I…” The pegasus cringes inward with her limbs, hugging together as if reminiscing bad memories.

“... You do not have to say it if you are uncomfortable.” Luna offers with a gentle smile. 

The pegasus looks relieved if only a little. She gives a sigh. 

“I was drafted into the war since the beginning.”

Luna’s smile disappeared.

“I was among the first ponies to be selected… me and…” she trails off, shutting her eyes for a few seconds before inhaling a shuddering breath. “I was deployed to the Ruby Mountains. That was when I first saw you, inspecting the troops. I last saw you on the ships before we went to Vanhoover.” The pegasus finishes with a sigh. 

Luna’s heart ached all while she listened. This pony—Sunshine Tempest—had seen the worst the world had to offer, yet she sat at Luna’s mercy despite all she had witnessed. She survived the worst that Tartarus threw at her, only to die after it was over. A cruel irony that no creature deserves.

“I am sorry,” Luna said, maintaining her composure. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I don’t blame you.” The pegasus sighs. 

Silence. The light around the pegasus persists.

“Am… am I dead?” Sunshine suddenly asks.

Luna hesitated but eventually caved into her question. “Not yet… but you are on the cusp of death.” 

“Dying, then.” Sunshine corrects. 

“It would seem that way.” Luna acquiesces. 

There was no fear in the pegasus, nor was there curiosity. Bitter sorrow pervades the air, overwhelming it to ruin, inconsolable and intangible.

Fear, dread, and empty rage swell and flare within a hollow spark, soon to be whisked away by the air that bites at her continuously. 

The cold renders all hope lost. A suffocating sadness, a sense of bitter resignation. All that remains is a deceivingly luminous darkness, awaiting its descent…

A Radiance Forlorn.

The pegasus trails her eyes to the floor, ashamed to look at the princess.

“What happens now?” Sunshine asks.

“Well,” Luna felt uneasy but decided to play it honest, “the fact you are here now means you are experiencing your final dream. And after that, your soul is taken to Elysium.”

“... What will my dream be about?” Sunshine asks with sudden interest.

“Whatever you wish it to be.”

She looks scared. As if dreading to dream. Or perhaps dreading death itself. Luna wasn’t sure which.

“... I can’t dream again.”

“I am afraid you do not have a choice, little pony.” Luna sadly informs her.

“No, you don’t understand,” Sunshine sits up, staring into Luna’s eyes with desperation. “I cannot dream. I can only have nightmares. I’ve only had nightmares for a long, long time.” She emphasizes with a nod of her head in each word.

“Nightmares?” Luna asks with a touch of worry.

“... I can’t remember the last time I dreamt a real dream,” Sunshine answers with a quiver in her throat. 

Luna understands the severity of her situation immediately and stands upright. “Sunshine, look at me,” she asks tersely but with maternal care. The latter looks up into the former’s eyes. 

Luna peers beyond the superficial features on her face, gazing past the cerulean irises and dark pupils as she peers deep into her. 

Her memories flash in her eyes as Sunshine is momentarily entranced by Luna’s stare.

Memories of agony. 

Memories of loss. 

Memories of kindness.

Memories of wrath. 

Memories of victories. 

Memories of defeats. 

Memories of death. 

Memories of life. 

Memories of hate. 

Memories of love. 

Memories of viscera. 

Memories of steel. 

Memories of water. 

Memories of fire.

Memories of light.

Memories of dark.

Luna recoiled away from the after-images of the slideshow flashing before her eyes. Nausea wracked her stomach briefly as she inhaled deeply through her nostrils for a calming breath. With a forced exhale, she dispels the horrid thoughts away from her cortex and focuses on the pony before her.

Luna sees this pony sitting before her, her eyes half-lidded in an exhausted manner as bags formed beneath them. Her brow is prefixed into a frown as she stares through them and into Luna’s worried eyes.

Luna felt inclined to say something but clammed her throat silent as a sudden clairvoyance took hold. 

“... There is something wrong with you.” She speaks with sudden worry.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Sunshine gives a bitter sigh.

“No, I mean-” Luna stops herself and locks eyes with Sunshine again. 

The latter is again hypnotized by Luna’s stare, and her life flashes before her eyes.

Luna sees more memories firing at her like bullets. As they go by in a flash, her initial suspicions are confirmed as gaps in the slideshow begin to form.

There were memories of every emotion that could be conceived associated with her life during the Great War; fighting in said war and trying to live a regular life after the fact was no small feat that the mind could pull off easily. 

Even if the trauma she experienced would leave its mark on her damaged psyche like a brand, the mind would usually be adept at combating these hardships on its own. Locking traumatic memories away in a metaphorical safe and throwing away the key.

And yet, as the puzzle pieces in Sunshine’s mind began to click together for Luna, one big piece was missing altogether; One emotion—possibly the most essential of them all.

Fear.

It was an extraordinary feat already to live a life of soldiery during the Great War, survive all of its horrors, live to tell the tale and return to an ordinary life after the fact.

But to live that whole life without fear? 

That was impossible.

And so Luna began to peer past the blank spaces between Sunshine’s thoughts, searching for vestiges of a memory that could be found. She found only the tattered edges of half-baked thoughts that were missing context and thus were made impossible to interpret.

But as Luna peered deeper into this blank memory, a chilly presence overtook her. Magic courses through her being, and she recoils slightly without breaking concentration. A dark but familiar energy freezes the air around her.

She peers deeper once more, trying to brave the storm. The chill turns colder by the second, and the magic becomes stronger. Screams echo in the distance, sounding like cries for help. Luna peers around to see where the source is coming from. She finds only darkness surrounding her.

Something wet touches her hoof.

Dread suddenly encompasses Luna as she slowly tilts her head to the floor. She sees the pool turning crimson on her hooves, the liquid caking instantly as she recoiled. Blood stains her coat, and panic seeps into her. She looks up and sees a mound stretching several pony lengths above her, haphazardly piled with rotting, decaying corpses of equine and insectoid nature. 

Black, abysmal pits of eyeless sockets peer up from the mound as the bodies open their hideous, toothless maws. Swimming with maggots and ruptured flesh, they scream like a choir, piercing the eardrums until they begin to ring.

Inside those maws—beneath the deafening screams of the damned—she could see it.

Eternity.

Luna gasped as her spell suddenly broke, clutching her temples as she sat down on her haunches hard. Her vision swam as she could hear ringing in her ears, her throat quaking with each sharp breath.

“Faust preserve you,” Luna whispers in horror.

“W-what? What is it?” Sunshine stammered with confusion, “What did you see?”

Luna did not answer, her mind’s eye replaying the events. Sunshine was far more damaged than she could ever estimate. 

But beyond the brands of trauma that were left behind, she was a husk of what she used to be. Her days of youth and her time before the war had long since gone away. Any attempts that were made to recall those days yielded warped static. Only a few snippets remain. 

One such memory replays in Luna’s mind with clarity. 

Sunshine sat in a restaurant in Canterlot. She enjoyed a meal of Hayburger Casserole as her meal was interrupted by a squelch of static from a radio, capturing the attention of everyone inside. What used to be playing jazz now played metallic chimes of the civil alert broadcast.

"We are just now receiving reports of heavy fighting in the City of Acronage.”

The words burned into Luna’s cortex as that horrible day replayed in Sunshine’s mind, her racing home to find… something. Luna wasn’t sure what she was searching for, but it was something of grave importance, whatever it was.

She peers deeper once again, moving forward in time from that day into the Present. Memories of Sunshine’s emotions flash again, and the lack of fear throughout the ordeal sets off warning bells in Luna’s head.

Something was wrong, horribly wrong, with Sunshine’s mind.

Sure, the brain can block out memories that are too traumatic to remember, and it can do an outstanding job of doing so for a long time. But, eventually, these past traumas will rear their ugly heads, no matter how deep they hide in their holes.

Here, Luna found such holes in Sunshine’s mental palace… but as deep as they were, they were empty. As if the memories were plucked out. 

Luna thought on this for a few more seconds, contemplating the odds of something like this happening naturally. Tens of millions to one, borderline impossible. The mind alone could not outright erase memories altogether. 

“What is happening to me?” Sunshine asks again, finally breaking Luna’s spell, more confused than anything.

Luna’s mind was moving fast. She ruled out many possibilities simultaneously and scaled them down to the probable few; either her mind was exceptional at faking amnesia… Or something else caused it.

“... There is the taint of dark magic within you,” Luna voices her theories aloud. “Something, or someone, has either taken your memories or erased them altogether.”

Sunshine was motionless for a few seconds, flabbergasted at what she just heard.

“What do you mean ‘taken?’ Who would do that to me?!” She asks with indignance.

“I wish I knew. I only see the extent of the damage and that you are not whole.”

Sunshine’s ears wilted to her temples, her scowl reflecting on the water-like surface beneath her. “So I am an amnesiac,” she muttered in bitter defeat. “Do you at least know what they have taken?”

Luna thought on this for a few seconds, trying to find the right way to word it. 

“... Imagine your wings had fallen off.” Luna began by sitting on her haunches before the troubled pegasus, gesturing her to do the same. Both sat face to face, with the princess several neck lengths taller than the pegasus.

“Imagine all the hours you put into practicing every maneuver you could do and every trick you can think of. All the experience and muscle memory you gained from putting flight hours into it until the act becomes second nature to you. You remember how hard it was to do your first few tricks; now they are trivial.

“But when they fell off, everything changed. As they grew back, you realized you had suddenly forgotten how to fly. You’ve already put in the flight hours to retain muscle memory, but what good is muscle memory if you are creating new muscles from scratch?

“That is your mind.” Luna extends a hoof to Sunshine’s forehead. “Your mind is damaged. It is trying to repair itself, but it does not know how. And you are, for lack of a better term, missing a portion of yourself.”

Sunshine’s eyes were enraptured with Luna’s analogy, blinking only a few times. When the latter had finished, the former stared at her reflection in the liquid below. The colorful pair of cerulean eyes, her mane, and tail had lost their vibrancy.

“You mean I’m… missing my memories?”

“For lack of a better term, yes.”

“Why?”

Luna pondered on this for a while, but sighed as her mind came up with blanks. “I wish I knew.”

Silence overtook them again, with Sunshine parsing the new information with a scowl. The frown lasted for nearly a minute until she sighed, dissipating the features with a defeated expression.

“But it shouldn’t matter, should it? I’m dying, aren’t I?” Sunshine remembers, her tone lathered in sadness. 

Luna was about to answer, but the words died on her tongue. 

She peers at the pegasus sitting before her. Usually, a dying soul would lose its music and its light, waiting to be taken into Elysium for its final dream. But here, Luna found her vibrancy, while dull, still intact. And though no symphony was heard, it was far from silent. 

She was surrounded by darkness and trapped in their own nightmares. But even so, this soul still clung to life despite all the damage it had suffered. It still burned with its own fire and raved at close of day, seething against the inexorable tide of fate.

“You should be,” Luna explains, “yet… here you are.”

“What was supposed to happen?” Sunshine asks before violently shaking her head. “Wait, actually, no, don’t tell me. I’d rather not know. But… I’m supposed to be dead, right?”

“Dying,” Luna corrected using Sunshine’s words, “and yes, you are supposed to be dead soon, but you are not.”

Remembrance suddenly flashes across Sunshine’s features as her eyes widen. “Bleeding Heart.” She mumbles to herself.

“A friend that you know?” Luna asks.

“I… I don’t know, maybe. But I think he is saving my life.” Sunshine relays the news calmly as if coming to terms with her predicament.

A hum was heard from within Sunshine. The note sang atonally and without a pitch, but it grew in volume as the seconds passed. Whatever iota of light that Sunshine possessed was now glowing brighter and brighter. The hum chimed into a note, with Sunshine’s aura blinking a few times before growing in luminance. 

“It would seem that way,” Luna observes quietly, watching the radiance surrounding Sunshine push past the dark abyss surrounding them. Colorful nebulae of dancing stars started to manifest in the distance, illuminating the space with their light as Sunshine found herself more and more radiant.

The features on Sunshine’s face were now livelier and more energetic than before. Recollection flashes in her eyes again.

“Wait, am I… Am I being saved?” Sunshine asks with worry.

“It would seem so, yes.” Luna answers, the former standing on all fours with renewed purpose. In those blue eyes burned a fire that Luna had not seen before.

“This… if I am being saved, then… then I have to tell you of something. There is something that you need to know.”

This got Luna to tilt her head in curiosity. “Such as?”

“I…” She paused, staring down for a fleeting moment as if deciding what to say. She locks eyes onto Luna with a firm frown. “I think Equestria is in danger,”

Luna said nothing, instead communicating her confusion with a raised eyebrow.

“Or, at least, a part of Equestria is in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Luna asks tactfully. 

The question left Sunshine speechless for a few long seconds until she steadied herself with a deep breath.

“You know how I said I cannot dream anything but nightmares?” Luna nods. “I… I think they are trying to warn me of something. Something terrible is about to happen.”

Luna tilts her head. “Such as?” Sunshine’s bravado disappeared, replaced with dread at what was to come. 

“... There is a rogue nuclear bomb somewhere in Equestria.”

Sunshine lets the news sink in for a few seconds. Luna’s eyes widened just a tad, but she tried to mask her shock with an even expression.

“And I think it is going to strike very soon.”

Luna peers into Sunshine’s thoughts again, searching for deception or exaggeration. She found a memory burned into Sunshine’s cortex, waiting to be viewed. Her eyes were Sunshine’s as the former watched the latter’s memory playback.

She was in a dull, tightly packed room of filing cabinets and cargo crates. A squad of ponies Luna didn’t recognize huddled around one crate. This crate was roughly the same size as an overgrown stallion, with warning labels written in Changeling's tongue plastered all over it. Among the warning labels were symbols of the radioactive trefoil. As the squad gingerly opened the crate, padded spaces built to contain three large capsules were found inside.

Only two were full, with an empty space in the middle.

“Those are Nuclear Weapons,” Somepony mutters in dejected horror.

Luna blinked, and she was found standing in front of Sunshine. The words replayed in her mind again and again.

Those are Nuclear Weapons.

Luna’s eyes widened in horror, her heart beating faster as her throat tightened to the diameter of a straw. 

“Where?” Luna simply asks with urgency.

“Where what?” Sunshine asks.

“Where and when did you find them?” 

Sunshine’s eyes dart left and right, trying to dig into memory lane before answering with hesitance, “Uh… Vanhoover, 1014.”

“And one of them was just missing?”

“Missing and at large. I… I’ve been trying to find it.” Sunshine’s ears wilted. “And I don’t think I am anywhere close to it.”

“You’ve been trying to… find it?” Luna asks with confusion. “This seems like something you should report rather than attempt to find yourself.”

“And look where that got me,” Sunshine mutters with sudden bitterness etched into her tone, “It only got me killed.”

Luna blinked in surprise. “... Killed you?”

“Well… technically it was a window. They just kept me locked up against my will. And I lashed out, hard enough that I had to escape.” Sunshine openly admits without guilt, piquing the curiosity of the princess standing over her. 

“Who locked you up? Why?”

Sunshine sighs. “S.M.I.L.E. Agency. They were trying to find the bomb as well, and I was their best bet in doing so. And…” Sunshine veers off topic with a mumble under her breath.

Luna didn’t pry. Instead, she was focusing her attention and ire on the architects of Sunshine’s misery. 

S.M.I.L.E.

Recollection flashes in Luna’s frontal lobe. She recalls her conversation with the guard Nova at her door. 

Her eyelids opened wider.

“It was you.” Luna suddenly speaks.

“What?”

“I heard that something happened inside of S.M.I.L.E. Agency—some kind of emergency—but I didn’t know what happened. All I knew was that it got them buzzing louder than an angry hornet's nest.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” 

The accusation left Sunshine at a loss of words for a moment. She blinked hard a couple of times before exhaling a groan.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

There was no denial, but no confirmation either. “Why do you say that?” Luna asks.

“... They were going to take me away. To be locked up while they were too busy banging their heads against the wall trying to find a solution.”

“The solution to finding the bomb?” 

“Yes,” Sunshine answers, “Out of all the ponies in my squad who had found the bombs in the first place… I was the last survivor they had. Their last lead.”

“But why would they lock you away if they needed you?”

Sunshine’s sigh was a remorseful one. “I don’t know. Maybe I made them angry, maybe they found a better lead. I don’t know.” Sunshine answered honestly. “All I know was that it was a mistake I couldn’t let them make.”

Luna felt the climax to this story rapidly approaching. “And then…?”

“... They tried to take me away. And I lashed out. I fought back against them, but they eventually subdued me. And…” her voice trails off. “Oh goddesses…” she mumbles to herself, sounding woozy.

Luna didn’t wait for her to finish and peered one last time into Sunshine’s memories. Sterile walls of dull and monotone gray greeted her as she trotted back to an express elevator. A quick altercation ensued inside, with Sunshine losing quickly.

Then she lunged.

Then she bit.

Then she screamed as a pony’s throat was ruptured in her jaws.

Blood stained her vision, and the motions were so quick it came in a literal blur. But when it was over, crimson was pooling at her hooves as two ponies lay on the floor writhing and bleeding. 

Instinct told her this was okay. That they were the enemy.

Luna steps back once to break her concentration, blinking several times to purge the foreign memories.

“... Why?” Luna simply asks, somewhat afraid of what the answer would be.

“Because of Night Light,” Sunshine simply states.

Sunshine speaks the name with conviction as if they were hallowed words.

“Somepony you hold dear?” Luna understood immediately.

“My marefriend. She was locked up with me before they took me away. And… I couldn’t leave her.”

“... So you went back?”

Sunshine nodded. “We both escaped together… I got injured jumping out of a window, bleeding out as I got out of Canterlot… that’s why I’m here, I think.”

The radiance surrounding Sunshine began to blind Luna enough to squint her eyes. Sunshine looks down at herself and sees her soul teeming with life.

“It seems you are not ready to die yet.” Luna acknowledges with a nod. 

Sunshine looks up, probably for the last time, into Luna’s eyes. 

“Can you help me?” She simply asks.

Luna was caught off guard by this sudden request but quickly recovered with a question of her own, “Help you how?”

“I… I know they will come looking for me,” Sunshine remarks with a hint of guilt, “And I know they won’t stop until they found me. They will likely brand me a terrorist, or something like that. I need more time.”

“... From what you warned me earlier,” Luna pivots, “It doesn’t sound like you have very much time left.”

“I know! But I don’t have any other options left! My back is against the wall, and I only have one way to move forward. But I can’t move forward with S.M.I.L.E. hot on my tail. So… please! If you can find a way to distract them or get them off my trail for even a few days, I will make it count! I promise!”

Luna could see it in her eyes again—that impassioned zeal, that stubbornness that she hadn’t quite seen in other ponies before. In those burning eyes that shone like the sky, she could see a raging fire, a drive to keep going, looking for a reason not to give up.

And it fell onto Luna to give her that reason.

Luna would likely be aiding an enemy of the state, and breaking several laws of her own in doing so. But the alternative would be to do nothing and let fate decide if Equestria shall live beneath the shadow of an atomic cloud.

“What are you planning on doing exactly?” Luna asks Sunshine.

“Fight,” Sunshine answers tersely. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever known.”

“Fighting alone will not help.” Luna shakes her head.

“Maybe not. But it's a start.”

Another pause. Logic dictates this to be an utterly insane request and one she should not follow through.

And yet, she cannot help but admire the endurance of this pegasus, and her desire to keep pushing.

“... I won’t be able to stop them,” Luna answers honestly, “But I can delay them for as long as I can. You will have at least a couple of days to help you get a head start. Beyond that, you are on your own.”

Sunshine lets go of a breath in relief. “Thank you!”

“I want you to understand the consequences of this, Sunshine Tempest,” Luna’s voice turned colder out of nowhere. “If what you are saying is a lie, and you are trying to trick me, I will find you and bring you to justice.”

Her cold remark left Sunshine stock still, wondering where this was coming from.

“You are about to embark on a dangerous journey, little pony. And I cannot help you every step of the way.

“But,” Luna’s voice shifted, into something more maternal, “If what you say is true… I will do what I can to help you succeed. I will do what I can to help you find this rogue weapon.”

“... What about S.M.I.L.E.? I doubt they are going to let me go so easily.”

“You let me worry about them. You focus on preserving your life, and finding that bomb.”

“How? I don’t know where to start! It sounds impossible!”

Luna frowned. Indeed, it would be like finding a needle in a field of bales. 

There was another spark inside of Sunshine’s eyes. One that begged to be peered into.

Luna blinked once and found herself inside Sunshine’s tattered mind. Before, she tried to find logic in a memory that was missing context, and thus impossible to interpret on its own. Without logic, dictating said context, what the memory could be was anyone’s guess.

But what happens to fabric, when they tear at the seams? It creates a hole. What happens to holes when they wish to integrate the ruptured threads into the whole fabric? They become sewn back together. 

And like fabric, memories leave behind threads for the mind to tug on its own. Threads that can be pulled in such a way by the subconscious that they create dreams. But if those very same threads are incomplete (or missing from the bigger picture altogether, in Sunshine’s case) then they can only create incomplete dreams—in most cases, nightmares.

But threads can be sewn back together… the question to ask at that point was ‘How?’

Blinking again, Luna finds Sunshine still waiting for her to come up with a plan.

“Your dreams,” Luna finally answers.

“W-what? What about them?”

“You mentioned you only had nightmares before, correct?” Sunshine nods. “And that these nightmares have lasted for a long time?” Another nod. 

This confirms Luna's hunch that something is tainting Sunshine's memories, creating nightmares for her to suffer through. As to where the source of this vile interference had originated, that is another mystery. But inside these dreams of half-baked memories, she can see remnants of a tapestry begging to be created. 

"Inside your tainted dreams are your memories, memories you have forgotten in the sands of time. These memories hold the key to finding what you seek. But only until you conquer your fears and face your demons can you find the truth you seek."

This explanation confused Sunshine. “So… the answer is in my dreams? How does that work?”

“It is a theory,” Luna sat down on her haunches, “But if something has forcefully taken your memories away, then they will leave behind traces. Whether it was an artifact or dark magic, I cannot say with certainty. But what I can do is sew them back together using these traces.”

“Like... rebuilding? You can do that?”

“To an extent,” Luna said unassertively, “I cannot recreate everything with perfect accuracy, but I can do it well enough to help you remember the bigger picture.”

“How can you do that?”

“In your dreams. If the situation calls for it, I can intervene in a pony’s dreams and change them into something else.”

Sunshine blinked hard, and her gaze suddenly dropped to the floor with her reflection.

“... Why couldn’t you do that sooner when I needed you?”

The words sounded like a dagger pierced Luna’s heart, guilt flooding the wound it had created. For a moment in time, Sunshine sounded pitiful. As if she had spent her life in pain.

“I am sorry I did not.” Luna apologized.

Sunshine scowled, but it only lasted a moment before it was gone in a blink. “Never mind.” She inspects herself, gazing at her ethereal body growing more corporeal by the second. “So… you can alter my dreams?”

“If your memories left behind traces of the past, I can help bring them back to the present. But you will have to be dreaming for this to happen.”

“And… you think the answer is in my hidden memories?”

“It must be; why else would something or someone make the effort to force you to forget?

No rebuttal to that line of inquiry, but rather another question. “What if it's another nightmare?” Sunshine asks with a hint of dread.

“Then I will help you fight it. But it is you who must conquer your mind.”

“I don’t know how.” Sunshine pitifully said.

“I know. And I will help you.”

The aura of light surrounding Sunshine blinded Luna’s eyes, preventing her from seeing the former’s features. The atonal hum evolved into a sharp note reverberating across the dreamscape.

“I’m waking up, aren’t I?” Sunshine asks. The alicorn nods. “Princess Luna?” 

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For believing me, I guess. And in me… and I’m sorry for everything that has happened to you.” 

The pegasus’ form was reduced to pure light, and the aura began to vanish into atoms. Despite the lack of physical features, a smile could be seen plastered on where the face used to be as her voice ripples through the air. 

“I hope everything will be okay.”

The light dissipates, and the hum silences itself abruptly. When everything settles, Luna finds herself standing alone in the dreamscape, replaying the strange conversation repeatedly in her mind.

I hope everything will be okay.

“... I hope so too.”
> (A5) - Chapter 1: ... And Promises Broken
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




No Glory Won





Act 5, Chapter 1: ... And Promises Broken



“... because they might haunt, but they won’t bleed.”






I woke up to the sound of propeller blades.

Or at least, I thought it was at first. Everything was hazy and unfocused. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was blinding. The world slowly shifts into view, and I see the spinning fan hooked to the ceiling above me. I was on my back, lying on something scratchy and uncomfortable.

I try to crane my neck to the side, but the world keeps spinning. Everything in view tilts at an angle and rolls endlessly, twisting knots into my stomach. A window shines the morning sun inside, dimly revealing the interior. 

I see an old Stallion sitting atop a chair, glaring at me with tired, jaded eyes of hazel.

“You’re awake,” he speaks flatly. I remember hearing a name before blacking out. Bleeding Heart, was it? I opened my mouth to talk, but a twist in my belly wrangled the words dead in my throat. I coughed as I resisted the urge to vomit, with a hoof pressing me down into the cot.

“Easy now. You’re still hooked on Plasma and are barely holding on. Just relax.”

I look up to see IV bags suspended overhead, dripping their yellowish liquid into my system with painful pricks all over my appendages—multiple bags. The realization sets in. I lost way, way too much blood. I tried to power through the fog, remembering bits and pieces from last night.

… At least, I think it was last night. I had no idea how long I was out. I opened my mouth again to try and communicate.

“Aie-dough,” was all I managed to croak out of my throat as I lay my head back down. Why was this so hard? “I… Don’t...”

“Okay,” the stallion scoots closer with a concerned frown. “Nod if you can understand me.” 

I bobbed my chin up and down.“Good. Can you remember your name?” 

I nod again. 

“What is your name?”

“Suh… Sunshine…” I speak between breaths, trying to quell the nausea. “Sunshine… Tempest.” A wave of relief washes over me at my breakthrough.

“Sunshine Tempest?” he asks for confirmation. I nodded. “Okay, good. Can you feel your limbs?”

I tilted my head, inspecting my barrel, as I gingerly lifted a hind leg in the air, the only limb not wrapped in bandages. The once dry cloth now clung to my coat in a clammy mess, caked in sticky crimson. I nodded again.

“Good.” He seemed relieved, too. “I took the liberty of stitching up some of your wounds while you were out, so don't move too much.”

Finally, clarity began to clear out channels through the grime surrounding my brain. Memories of being carried here, this stallion—Bleeding Heart—saving me. Memories of me being diagnosed and treated by several ponies in bed before-

A familiar chill travels up my spine as realization takes hold. “Did… did I-”

“Die?” Bleeding Heart finished my sentence atonally, shaking his head. “You almost did, but your heart wouldn’t quit.”

I sighed in relief. After hearing those words, I felt a strange mix of pride and guilt. My stomach growled as an acute awareness finally settled in. I had no energy, barely enough to lift my head to see the old stallion waiting for me to speak.

My mind was foggy, and my body felt groggy. I had questions—lots of them. But one question preceded all the others.

“Where’s Night Light?” I asked with a frown.

His eyes were confused for a moment before he blinked in acknowledgment. “The pegasus?” I nodded. “She’s to your right.”

I noticed soft, rhythmic breathing below me at those words. Tilting my head down, I could see a heap of midnight-hued limbs and hair sleeping below me, with bandages wrapped around her legs (though nowhere near as many as I had.) Night Light slept soundly on the floor, undisturbed by the conversation above her.

“She refused to leave your side,” Bleeding Heart spoke as I stared at her sleeping form. I could see how her chest slowly rose and fell with each soft breath, how she nestled her head between her limbs.

Something inside me clicked upon seeing that.

You do not deserve her.

“You are one lucky mare, do you know that?” Bleeding Heart asked behind me. I gazed upon Night Light’s sleeping form as I sighed.

“I don’t feel lucky.”

“But you wouldn’t be here right now if it weren't for her.”

“I know,” I mumbled. I mentally cursed at the IV bags suspended overhead that wouldn’t let me move my limbs to touch her. I turned my head back to Bleeding Heart, a frown still prefixed on my brow. “How long was I out?”

“One day and two nights,” he spoke methodically, “It’s been a little over 36 hours.”

“And her?”

“She was very stubborn about staying. She said she would sleep here if she had to.” Another sigh drew from his lips. “She’s a lot like Quinna.”

“Who?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow at that but otherwise shrugged it off. “Doesn’t matter.” He nods to Night Light sleeping beside me. “She was a universal donor. She knew her blood type was safe for you and volunteered to help you. Which,” he scratches the back of his neck with a look of worry, “I told her that was not good enough, and she insisted anyway… But that might be why you are alive now, so I should thank her."

I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘not good enough?’”

“You lost over four liters of blood, Sunshine, and had many deep wounds that were still gushing when Berry brought you in,” he spoke with an urgency as if I was still in danger. “Healing magic alone wasn’t going to help you. And I told her that, too.” He nods to Night Light. “I told her that even if she transfused all the blood needed to save you, it would not guarantee your survival. And she would be at a tremendous risk herself. But she did it anyway.”

Wait, then, “How are we both alive right now?”

Bleeding Heart leans back into his chair, looking out the window against the morning sun with squinted eyes. 

“I was gonna tell her that you were dead.”

There was a pregnant pause after that. My heart sinks just a little upon hearing those words. 

“But she didn’t even let me speak. She just barged through the door and cried at the sight of you. She begged and pleaded for me to save you however I could.” 

His frown darkened to a look of pity. “I couldn’t say no. Telling her what would happen would have broken her. So I tried to save you. And as I said, her blood alone wasn’t good enough.” He gave a long sigh.

“But it wasn’t just her blood that was donated. Quinna volunteered, too.”

A spark of remembrance at that same name. “You mean the Thestral?”

“Not just her, but practically everyone across the village—the ones that knew their blood type, anyway—they all volunteered to help you. I didn’t know if it would work. Heck, no doctor knew if this would work. Thestrals don’t exactly give away blood for free to their pony brethren. At least, not without animosity…” He trails off.

“You say this like it should not be possible,” I ascertained, “and yet here I am.”

“... And yet here you are,” he repeated, “because I thought thestral blood would be incompatible with an equine body.” Bleeding Heart lowered his gaze to the floor. “Because I thought it impossible to save you. Whereas everyone else dared to try anyway.”

He was ashamed.

I could see it in his body language, choice of words, and tone of voice. In his mind, I was already dead. And he was quick to condemn me as such. 

“I almost died,” I spoke aloud. The words came out, sounding a little hoarse across my parched throat. It felt just as unbelievable as it sounded. 

Some memories are coming back, but it is hard to make sense of them. 

It felt like I had emerged from a long coma, dreaming all the while (which I had been), but I couldn’t remember much of the dream. I remember talking, but to whom and about what, I cannot say. 

It felt important, though. Whatever it was. 

What I do remember is that S.M.I.L.E. would be after me soon. And I had a head start, but it wouldn’t last if I were stuck here toiling away in bandages. 

Speaking of here, “Where are we?”

“Hmh, we’re in Hollowbark,” Bleeding Heart hums, “just on the northern periphery of the Everfree, beneath Canterlot. It is a quaint little town, and barely a thousand of us are here.”

“That’s… small. Given today’s standards.”

“It’s a town only for thestrals, one given to them by the crown about a decade back. But few thestrals were willing to live this far up north after the war, so many went south to find better homes.”

“... And you?”

He shrugs. “They needed a village doctor. I traveled in the area a few months ago, and now here I am.”

“Are you the only pony in town?” I asked bluntly.

“That I am.”

“What is that like?”

His brows furrowed ever so slightly. “At first? It's a little hard, given how ponies treated them in their past. I knew their history. I knew why they had suspicions, but, well, you know. The way they would give you an odd look, talking about you behind your back, how you are the topic of every conversation except the ones they have with you, and how foals start to fear you; It starts to irk you.” He slowly shakes his head.

“It wasn’t until I helped deliver the foal of the village elder that they began to trust me. At first, they would ask for advice on how to treat themselves. Eventually, one by one, they would come seeking my help. Infections, disease, cuts, and scrapes, you know. That sort of thing. Nowadays, they know I am here to help them. And that is good enough for them to let me live here and good enough for me to stay here. You were the first real patient I had to treat since I arrived here, one that had a real threat of death looming over them. And if it weren’t for her,” he nods to Night Light, “then Hollowbark wouldn’t have tried helping me. You wouldn’t have made it without her.”

I look down at Night Light, undisturbed from our conversation, as she sleeps soundly beneath us. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, “I haven’t said it yet, but thank you.”

“Er… Are you talking to me or her?”

I chuckled. A tendril of pain jolts up my ribcage. It hurts to laugh.

“Both,” I answered as I laid back down with a grimace.

“You’re quite welcome.”

“Do I have to… pay you?” I was almost too afraid to ask, as I had nothing to give him.

He shook his head. “Berry is paying for it all, and I gave him a discount, seeing as the whole town came together to save you. Speaking of which,” he stood up and stretched his limbs, “Some of them will be happy to know you’re still kicking. I’ll check on you after telling them the good news.”

I watched him walk limp to the door. His right hind leg was slightly elevated above the floor as if he were avoiding pressure. I wanted to ask, but he was already out the door before the words left my mouth. 

That left me alone with my thoughts and Night Light’s quiet, rhythmic breathing.

You do not deserve her.

I lay my head back down, my mind running a million miles per minute. Distant yet familiar memories graze the surface of my mental landscape, but it is not enough to form a coherent thought. It’s like having words die in your throat before you forget what you will say. There is only one word that continues to form in my head.

Manehattan.

But why? Was the bomb there? Or was this me remembering a dream? Was it nothing at all? The murky quagmire in my head bogs down my thoughts. It is like someone is violently churning butter in my skull. 

A nail of pain pierced through the mental exhaustion as I was starting to develop a headache. Taking several deep breaths, I try to sit up a little further upward. The catheters from the IV stand pulled tighter as I slowly ascended with my elbows. More fiery tendrils lick my ribs from the stitches as I grit my teeth through the pain. 

I could only sit up at an odd angle before the tubes and needles were taut. Nowhere near comfortable enough for me to move. 	And I wasn’t going to unplug them anytime soon, so for the moment, I was stuck.

Slumping back down in defeat, I assessed my situation. I am not dead, which is good. I also haven’t been found out by anyone chasing us yet. But judging by how I am hooked and bandaged up like a mummy, I feel as if I will be stuck here for a while, which is bad.

I close my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nostrils. Feeling my chest inflate sends jolts of pain through the stitched wounds. My breath turns into a wince as I suppress a groan. Right then, take slow and steady breaths. Don’t breathe deeper than necessary. 

I hear mumbling and feathers stirring on the floor below me. Night Light awakes with a groan. I turn my head to see her rubbing her eyelids just beneath my cot. After hearing what she had been through, my heart swelled at the sight of her awake and well.

You do not deserve her.

“Sleep well?” I asked innocuously, dispelling all of my thoughts. 

There was a gasp, barely audible if it weren’t for the comatose ambiance surrounding us. She turns her head level with mine, eyes locking mine.

“You’re awake?” she asks with disbelief.

“Barely.” I simply answered.

Night Light slowly began to stand up, the floorboards creaking beneath her weight like frogs. Her eyes drift down my neck to my abdomen and appendages, seeing them caked with relatively fresh blood through the stitching.

“How do you feel?” She asks with caution.

“Tired. Groggy. Hurt all over.”

There was something of a chortle at those words, yet it sounded more like a forced breath. “I bet. I can’t believe you are awake.”

“You and me both.” 

“Wait, where’s…” Night Light trails off as she looks around for Bleeding Heart.

“He left. To… I don’t know, somewhere.” I felt foggy in my head, trying to recall recent memories. Even rudimentary thoughts had trouble forming. It felt like I was drowning in my head. All that’s forming at the moment are questions.

I started with the simplest one I could think of. “What happened? I only remember bits and pieces.”

Night Light frowned, staring hard at my bandages as if they had wronged her. Part of me thinks it is my fault.

What am I saying? It is my fault we are here. I couldn’t just leave her behind, couldn’t I? Couldn’t leave well enough alone when I was beaten. I just had to go and be the hero, didn’t I?

You just had to go and kill them, didn’t you?

“They fixed you. That’s what happened.” Night Light’s curt response interrupts my self-loathing.

“... That’s it?” I asked incredulously. “Nobody came looking for us?”

“No. That’s it.” 

Her eyes drift to mine. And-

... You know, in all the time that I had known Night Light, she always had these pretty green eyes you could look into all day. The sky could be raining fire, and yet just one look into her jade irises would make all of the troubles in the world feel trivial for a time.

In all the time that I had known Night Light, I have never seen her look at me the way she does now.

Angry.

Confused. 

Hurt.

“... Night Light?” I asked, suddenly very afraid.

Her eyes were unflinching in their resolve as if she were burrowing into my soul to find any wrongdoings and sins I had committed.

“What now?” She asks, drilling holes in my skull with that stern look.

I blinked first. “... I beg your pardon?”

“What now?” She repeats tersely, unblinking.

Confusion wracked my brain. “What do you mean ‘what now?’ What does that mean?”

“I mean, what happens now, Sunshine? What do we do now? Do you even know?”

“I…” I wanted to answer, but what answer was there to give? Only vague assumptions remained. “I don’t know,” I relented, averting her disappointing gaze as I stared at the floor, “I’m still kinda slow in the head right now.”

Slowly sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to purge the tainted air out of my lungs, I looked up at Night Light’s eyes to see her standing in place stoically.

Her eyes frowned upon making contact with mine. “That’s it? That’s it?! ‘You’re slow in the head,’ that’s all you have to say? Sunshine, do you have the slightest idea what you have done?” Night Light asks with sudden ire. 

My brow furrows as painful memories of sterile halls tinted crimson plague my mind’s eye—the feeling of blood pooling beneath my fetlocks, the taste of copper staining my tongue, the friction of flesh tearing away from my teeth.

You do not deserve her.

My body begins to shake as I slump back down on the cot on my back, wings folded beneath the caked dressings surrounding my barrel. The quakes send jolts of pain up the stitches.

“Where are we supposed to go now, Sunshine? What are we supposed to do?” Night Light’s tone grew in volume. “Do you even know why you did this? Do you know how we can move on from this? Do you know where to go next? Do you know how to fix this?”

There was no answer. I shut my eyes to prevent tears from welling up and suppress the urge to tremble across my body.

“So now we’re supposed to just… live like this? Because you tried to rescue me? Because you think that this was the best idea?!”

You do not deserve her.

“I-I just—I don’t even…” She stammers, trying to formulate the right words. “I thought you died, Sunshine!”

You do not deserve her.

“I saw you on the table, bleeding out and not moving, after everything we had done. And I… I THOUGHT YOU DIED!” she screams. 

I dared not to open my eyes, but I could hear in the scratchy tone in her voice that she was holding back tears. The trembles worsen.

“I thought I lost you! I thought you died trying to rescue me from Canterlot! Do you know how much that hurts?!”

You do not deserve her.

Night Light shudders between her breaths. My heart tightens like a vice clamping down on it as I hear her trying to quell the wrath in her voice with choking gasps. She fails to suppress her tears.

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt my eyelids and cheeks growing wetter by the second. I turned away my runny, snotty face from hers. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

“I can’t keep doing this anymore, Sunshine.”

It feels like a dagger skewers me at those words. They left her throat effortlessly, with more gravity than the planet itself. Like a paradox, hearing those words sounded right and yet very wrong. The tirade of questions ceased with that one simple sentence.

My cheeks are now damp.

You do not deserve her.

“... I do not deserve you.”

My tongue finds the will to utter this sentence, translating my inner thoughts aloud. 

There was nothing else to say, though, and it felt like there was no point in talking further. A mute acknowledgment of my failures settled between us. 

A quiet assertion that I was beyond redemption or forgiveness.

“... I’m going to stay with you until your wounds get better.” Night Light suddenly speaks with as much atonal energy as she could muster. The dagger twists and debrides me inside out. “But after that…? I don’t know.”

I didn’t dare face her. What was I to say in this position? That I was sorry for ruining her life? For wanting her to be with me? How immensely selfish was I, doing her more harm than good for my sake alone? For the sake of saving what little relationship we had?

“I’m…” She inhales deeply through her nostrils, clearing what little remained of her sanity and composure to dry her tears. “I’m going to find a place to stay for the next few days… weeks, however long it will take. After that… I don’t know.” She mutters weakly. 

Night Light trots slowly to the door, her hooves scraping against the floor as she wills her body to move. Before swinging it open, she mumbles once again. 

“I lost everything, too. Don’t you think I want to move on?”

She swung the door open quicker than she had moved before, and just like that, she was gone. The house’s ambiance was now still and quiet.

Save for the sobs of a single pegasus.





“Open.”

My jaw widened as another spoonful of oatmeal was fed to me. Bleeding Heart painstakingly fed me spoonful after spoonful of his food from the pantry to ensure I wasn’t starving on the cot. 

Hours had passed after I woke up before my stomach bellowed its dissatisfaction. Only for me to realize I was practically disabled with no way of feeding myself. The drip stands needed more time to feed Saline and Plasma, so I was going to be bedridden for another day at the least.

At least he added sugar to it.

“Water.” I rasped, soon greeted by a tall, thin glass of cool liquid flowing down my parched throat, one greedy swallow at a time.

Bleeding Heart scrapes a few more bits from the bottom of the bowl to savor one more spoonful for me to munch on. “Okay, that was the last one,” he concludes by standing up from his seat with a groan, the bowl and spoon levitating beside him as he trots to the kitchen sink.

The sound of running water soon reminded me of another problem I could not handle.

“Hey, uh,” I asked awkwardly, “... How do I go to the bathroom?”





Night had returned to Hollowbark. I could hear the faint chirping of crickets beyond the windows.

“You are not leaving this home.” Bleeding Heart strictly informs me. “Your wings were damaged during your little escapade, and the lacerations I’ve stitched up have not yet healed. You are going to be grounded for a few days at least.”

“And how long do stitches usually take to heal?”

“Usually? About a couple of weeks.”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t have a couple of weeks, Doctor. No offense to your abilities, but I cannot stay here for that long.” 

“You can, and you will.” He rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Look, I don’t know what has got you in such a hurry. Frankly, it's none of my business, but I am sure it can be superseded in your list of priorities regarding your physical health.”

“Respectfully, Bleeding Heart, that particular list of priorities is quite rigid in its arrangement, and I am not willing to change it.”

“Your body doesn’t have a choice. It’s either you stay here, or you risk your treatment with strenuous activities. And as your caretaker, I am ordering you to stay put.”





The days went by surprisingly fast, given the painful situation I was in.

Being forced to sleep in a small space with scratchy cloth instead of clouds was uncomfortable enough. But to be forced to lay on my back with IV tubes poking all over me? To be practically frozen in place while doing so? While the noises outside disturbed my chances of slumber? It felt like I was in a tomb surrounded by tourists.

The night was far from still and quiet, as the bustling atmosphere of town only thrived during the night, which wasn’t surprising, given that this was a town entirely of Thestrals. Many of them conducted their day-to-day routines during the moonrise: running shops, mending fences, foals playing in the fields, shepherds tending to the flock of sheep outside of town.

Or at least, that was what Bleeding Heart told me. Not all the Thestrals in Hollowbark were entirely nocturnal. Some conducted their business during the day, usually merchants who traveled to neighboring towns to barter for goods. But they tended to start their routines, more often than not, at night.

At this particular moment, the sounds of foals cheering and yelling during their playtime outside did little to help me sleep.

My mind wanders back to the idle luxuries I had taken for granted just days before. I sorely missed the ability to eat and perform bodily functions without a helping hoof. I miss coffee. I miss my cloud bed. I miss the prospect of a peaceful night’s sleep. I miss the blissful ignorance that life offered just weeks prior.

I miss Night Light.

Thinking about these thoughts did little to improve the situation. The faint snoring from Bleeding Heart’s bedroom could be heard through the walls. I gave a bitter sigh.

Looks like sleep won’t be coming anytime soon.





It had been days since I could stretch my limbs and wings. 	After a few minutes of pleading between bites of Oatmeal, I could hear Bleeding Heart give a tired sigh as he worked on redressing the bandages around my body.

“No flying, do you understand? I want you to take it easy for the next few days,” he instructs as he pulls the last needle from my body. “I think it’s a bad idea, given your situation-”

“I’m only getting some fresh air. I’m not going into town,” I said honestly. “I just can’t stay in one place for long before I go crazy.”

“It’s fine if you did,” Bleeding Heart shrugs his shoulder as he wraps the last bandages together. “Just don’t do anything that would loosen the stitching. I worked hard on that.” he gripes. “But there, you’re done. Go enjoy the weather, or whatever it is you Pegasi do.” He adds with a grumble before shuffling off to his bedroom.

Stretching slowly and carefully along my limbs and back, I felt a wave of euphoric energy surge through my nostrils with a sigh of relief. It felt good to move again finally. 

My eyes were blinded for a few seconds as they adjusted to the sun. Stepping outside greeted me with a calm wind billowing against my coat, which smelled of pumpkin and wood. The sun soothed my skin beneath in a pleasant blanket of warmth. 

When they adjusted, the village was in full view from atop this small hill, sitting beneath the mighty mountain face of Canterlot, perched a mile above us. Given the circumstances, the sight looked intimidating. We were hiding, quite literally, right beneath their noses.

Shutting my eyes from the scenery, I simply stood there, taking it in—smelling the air, feeling the sun, taking a micro nap while standing, appreciating life.

It’s hard to believe that only a couple of days ago, I was on death’s door from jumping out of a window, of all things. What a pathetic way to almost die.

“Sunshine?”

An unfamiliar voice calls out to me, though it is paired with a face I immediately recognize.

“Quinna?”

“Hey! You’re finally out and about, I see! Uh, how are you holding up?” she asks idly, unsure where to start. Although if her eyes gazing at my bandages were any hints to go by, I’d say she was worried about me.

“Tired and sore but good,” I said honestly. “I’ve been told by Bleeding Heart that you and Berry were the ones who saved me. So thank you, I guess.”

“Eh, well, I figured it would be kind of rude of me to just leave you like that,” She chuckles halfheartedly. “I’d like to think you woulda done the same for me, so, yeah.”

I pulled her into a hug.

I’m unsure why I did it; the thought came out of nowhere, but it felt right.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I felt her return the embrace.

“... You’re welcome.” She softly replies, a little confused but appreciative of the gesture.

I blinked, and suddenly, the moment felt awkward, if not wholesome. Retreating from the embrace, I saw a tint of color on Quinna’s cheeks. “Whew, I didn’t know you were a hugger,” she chuckled again. “I’m kind of like that, too.”

“I’m usually not. The moment just happened.” I replied.

“Well, I’m not complaining, I like hugs!” she smiles adorably.

She looks like Night Light.

A sudden flash of inspiration stirred me to decide what to do next. “Hey, Quinna, can I ask you for-... well, okay, for two quick favors?”

She tilts her head to the side. “Um, sure. What is it?”

“First, I need a place to stay for a couple of days-”

“Done! You can sleep on my couch!” 

I blinked. “Wait… what?”

“You wanted a place to sleep, right? I have a futon that can turn into a bed! You can sleep there for the time being, for however long you need!” she beams at me with a smile.

I blinked again, harder. “What?”

“Are you okay? You look a little confused.”

“I am. You’re just going to invite me into your home? Just like that?”

“Well, yeah. You seem like a good pony, so I trust you.”

Oh, bless her soul; she is too innocent for this world.

Shut up, brain; now is not the time.

“What was your second favor?”

“Wait, hang on,” I shook my head, “you are perfectly okay with me, who is a random stranger to you, to be just living inside your home for a few days?”

“Well, yeah. Isn’t that what Bleeding Heart did to you?”

“He’s a doctor, that makes sense. This you are telling me doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, now you are confusing me. Why doesn’t this make sense? Is it different from where you’re from?” she asks, tilting her head.

I paused, suddenly feeling like I was navigating a social minefield. “Uh, yes?” I answered carefully.

“Well, to me, I think it’s fine. Firstly, you are not a stranger here in Hollowbark; almost everyone here knows about you and is concerned for your well-being. And secondly,” she paused, suddenly scanning me top to bottom with her eyes.

“You just… I don’t know what it is about you, but something tells me you are a good pony. And that you need help, so here I am. I’m here to help!” she beams again.

I blinked a third time, harder still. Yet my brain was still running laps around itself. It felt somewhat absurd, but… who was I to turn down this generosity? 

“Now, you said you had two favors to ask. What was your second one?”

That sentence helped me snap out of it, finally thinking with clarity. 

“Uh, well, I need your help in finding someone.”

“Lemme guess, Night Light?”

“... Yeah, how-”

“It’s obvious. Who else are you going to be talking about?”

Touché. “So you know where she is, then?” I asked hopefully.





Verdant meadows of mature and adolescent dandelions ebbed and flowed with the wind, the soft breeze tickling the hairs of my coat and billowing my mane. They bloomed beneath the open sky of Celestia’s sun, a dirt path running between a small creek and the flowery fields, ending in a break at the treeline to the east of the village.

Upon closer inspection, my eyes locked onto the seemingly endless patch of thick and mighty willow and deciduous trees. They grew with such a dense canopy that light was smothered in their leaves before reaching the ground. A flash of recognition dawned on me at the sight of it. 

Bleeding Heart was right; this wasn’t just any forest. This was the Everfree.

And it was here, sitting a little bit away from the very same log we both hid behind upon first arriving at Hollowbark, that Night Light sat alone. She stared into the entrance of the Everfree, where the dirt path ended and the forest began. Overgrown grass, mushrooms, moss, and vines hanging down the tree branches greeted her in silence as I quietly approached her.

I paused, feeling something caked beneath my hooves.

Looking down, I could see the darkened stains of my blood still visible from the first night. It pooled beneath the mossy log onto the stained blades of grass, the latter of which had a splotch that resembled something of an inkblot test—evidence of my bloody escapade plain to see for anyone wandering by. I feel a shiver travel up my spine.

Night Light seemed unaware of my presence as I stood a reasonable distance away from her. I had found her, but what should I say? ‘I’m sorry?’ I suddenly realized that I had no plan for getting this far. I was at a loss for what to do.

So, instead of fabricating a plan on the spot, I just stood there, like an idiot… just watching her.

We continued to ponder silently for a few minutes, neither moving a muscle nor uttering a word. Whenever I felt like I had something to say, the words died before leaving my throat. 

I didn’t know what to do, what to say, where to go, or who to talk to. This idea feels more and more like a mistake by the second. Why am I still standing here? What was I even doing here, to begin with? To make amends for ruining her life? How would I even start doing that?

Why am I doing this?

Promise me.

Night Light’s words reverberate in my head again.

No matter what happens. No matter where we are. No matter who stands in our way... Promise me that you won't give up on us. Please?

I sat down on my haunches, staring at the grass beneath my hooves as the words echoed repeatedly. I remember lying in bed together to soothe each other, blissfully unaware that it would be one of our last tender moments.

I can hear my response through my skull without much effort.

I promise I won’t give up on us.

A soft gasp was heard from in front of me. I look up to see Night Light staring from behind her shoulder with wide eyes.

Oh shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?

I clammed up instantly as we made eye contact, finding myself mute. We stared at each other motionlessly for a few tense seconds until Night Light lifted her hooves to rub her eyes. Blinking hard a few times, she finds me still sitting there, waiting for her to speak first.

“Sunshine? You’re outside?” she asks for confirmation as if she is losing her mind.

“Just about,” I replied.

There was more tense silence. Neither of us seemed prepared for this particular moment. Her eyes glaze up and down at my somewhat clean bandages, the stitching still sending jolts of pain up my side with each idle breath. I made an effort to seem like I was healthy and not in constant pain. 

“I don’t know what to say.” I spoke honestly, “Except for ‘I’m sorry,’ but I know that is not good enough.”

She blinks softly at those words, taking them in for what they are—an apology, plain and simple, but not with the exemption of guilt or responsibility. 

“I don’t know what to say, either,” she admits, eyes tracing my dressings. “... except, maybe, are you okay?”

I opened my mouth to speak some nonchalant answer, and again, the words died on my tongue. Because truth be told…? “No, I am not.”

Her eyes frowned, then blinked into sympathy. “I figured.” She shuffled awkwardly with her hooves scratching the back of her neck. “I… I know I have no right to ask this after what I said to you earlier, but… do you wanna talk about it?”

After that seemingly innocuous question, the birds chirping their songs caught my attention. I turned north towards the mountains, listening to the breeze tickle my ears, the birds singing, the leaves billowing, and the stillness of summer turning into autumn. 

My jaw tightened, and I felt my nerves shiver with dread. I blinked, and for a moment, I was back inside Canterlot—inside those halls.

Only for a moment, but it's enough to make me feel the surge of panic inside me. 

“Night Light, I…” I attempted to speak to keep my thoughts clear. “Night Light, I am damaged.” The words sounded hollow as they left my mouth. My tongue began to ramble as if on autopilot.

“I am far too damaged to ever be ‘okay’ again. Every time I try to go to sleep, I have nightmares that feel too vivid to be just dreams. Every nightmare involves me killing, dying, or facing death in some kind of way. And they all end badly, either with me dying or someone else. And it feels like something or someone is talking to me, judging me for what I’ve done. 

“It feels like a warning—a reminder of something terrible coming. Something that I don’t think I can stop, and I don’t even know what it is! Then, amidst all of this, I am suddenly pulled out from the quagmire that is going on inside my head to another dilemma that is seemingly beyond my control! 

“And suddenly, I am expected to be responsible for helping stop what is potentially the worst disaster Equestria would ever experience—something that would pale The Great War in all its horror!? And I am supposed to just stop it?! 

“And then—on top of everything else—I made everything worse by lashing out the way I did, by killing them! Forcing us into exile because I… I…”

Crimson seeps back into my hooves, and for a second, I can feel my coat matted beneath caked blood. I shut my eyes, breathing in deep but slowly. As I exhaled, I could feel my throat quiver in anticipation.

“I just…”

I sat down hard on my haunches, feeling the energy in my body wane by the second. I felt like I had run for miles without stopping, sighing with as much force as I could muster, head sagging uncomfortably low to the ground. I wanted to cry. But…

“I am just… tired, Night Light. I just feel tired.” I mumbled atonally. 

I sat against the log, which was still stained with my mistakes. My mind was running on empty now, the fatigue quietly settling in the corners of my mind to drag it back a few paces. The jet lag was like a whiplash from a sudden and violent storm, leaving me defenseless to its maw sinking into me.

“... I know how you feel.” 

Night Light mumbled. I didn’t bother to look up. My body was content to lay there and be still.

“How?” I murmur back.

The breeze picked up pace for a few seconds, buffeting against me as it threatened to keel me over. I could hear the grass crumple beneath her hooves as Night Light trotted to my side and sat beside me. No words were immediately spoken. She sat silently, letting the wind and birds establish their hold on the ambiance.

“I had… well, I don’t know if he was a friend, but an acquaintance—one who would help me from time to time. He helped me cheat death.”

That made my ears flick. I looked up to see Night Light speak with a look of recollection in her eyes. “I briefly glossed over how I cheated death over Mead Lake, but I didn’t really tell you what happened, did I?”

“... No, not really,” I answered, somewhat curious about where this was going.

“I… I never knew his real name, only his moniker, but he went by the name ‘Doc.’ He saved me.”

“... I don’t know him,” I answered after searching my brain for familiarity. 

“You wouldn’t, but he helped me in so many ways. He helped me get back to my ship after being left behind, got back on my feet to take the fight to the Changelings, and gave me technology that would help me stay one step ahead of the enemy. Everything he did, he had done so with the sole purpose of ending the war as quickly as possible."

I noticed her ears drooping as he continued to list his accomplishments.

“It doesn’t sound like this story has a happy ending,” I observed. Night Light nodded softly in mute acknowledgment.

“He made a promise to me many years ago,” she began slowly, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "That he would… ‘Never leave me behind, even if the world turned its back on me.’ And I believed him. I believed him because he was the only one who knew the truth about me otherwise.”

Her head sagged lower.

“... What happened to him?”

“That’s just it… I don’t know.” She shrugs in disbelief with an exasperated sigh. “It’s like he vanished! He was there one day, barking orders at me on what to do, and then I never heard from him again.”

“Never ever?”

“Never, ever, ever! He was just gone! And that messed me up… badly. For the longest time, I didn’t know what to do without him. I didn’t know how to keep moving forward despite all that was going against me. And now that I’m here, coming to terms with losing everything, I miss him. And yet, I don’t? It’s… it’s a little confusing.” she finishes with ambivalence.

It felt like puzzle pieces were finally clicking into place in my mind. “Wait, so… is that why you wanted me to make that promise to you in the first place? To never give up on us? Was it because…” I trailed off to see if the correlation was genuine and not just a figment of my imagination. A meek nod from her head confirms my predictions.

“I just… want to know what became of him after all these years. And I wonder if he even remembers his promise to me, like I do.”

“... It’s not unreasonable to think that,” I replied. “I would be upset, too.”

“Upset… yes. That’s one way of looking at it.”

“... So, how do you know how I feel then?”

A bitter sigh emanates from her throat as she looks deeper into the Everfree again.

“Aigaion. Doc… he made it apparent to my squad—my friends—that we were the only ones with the skill and chemistry to take the fight to the Aigaion and its lackeys. But… in hindsight, that must’ve been either lofty wishing or just sweet nothings he told to keep us sane. Nobody could kill that thing by themselves. It just wasn’t possible.” She sags her head lower to the ground.

“But me? Back then? I didn’t care about that way of thinking. I only cared about keeping everyone I cared about alive. That was all that mattered to me. But in his eyes, that wasn’t good enough.” she suddenly frowns. “It was always about ending the war for him. And he believed Aigaion was the key to it all.”

“Was it?”

“I don’t know, maybe? In hindsight, it is hard to say, given all we know now…” she mutters darkly to herself before adding on with a shake of her head. “But the bottom line is this: I was his greatest tool in Doc's eyes. His most efficient weapon. And sometimes, that was all he saw me as. And… I don’t know; maybe I was sick of it all by that point, but I wanted that to change. I didn’t want to be the pony everyone relied on. It was hard enough trying to keep four of us alive. I didn’t want anymore lives on my conscience. I just wanted it to be done.”

She looks up with a firm look in her eyes. “So yes, believe it or not, I know how you feel about this, Sunshine. You are not the only one suffering here.”

My brain ran laps around itself to parse all of this exposition. Most of my energy faded away beneath a blanket of fatigue, giving what little of it remained only an iota of mental capacity to work with. My senses were still fried from the surgery, and pain constantly shot up my side with each passing breath.

But beyond the fog clouding my mind and the lethargy from being in constant pain, I could see that Night Light was still hurt by this unintentional betrayal even though years had passed.

What was I supposed to say amidst all of that? 

My mind was empty for a fleeting moment as I tuned into the environment around me. No memories were haunting me, and no contradicting thoughts were plaguing me. The sun warmed my skin as it crested above the peaks towering Canterlot, and the sky never looked so clear before, so blue and pretty.

It felt like the world had stopped for a few minutes. A shadow of a smile started to creep on my lips before they hardened into another frown.

“Sunshine?” Night Light asks with a confused tone.

“It was always so cold in Cloudsdale,” I finally spoke, staring into the sky. “I forgot how warm it was down on the surface. How pretty the sky looks from the ground.”

I imagined Night Light also peered up into the sky with me. I didn’t see; I was too busy staring upwards. 

We stared into the sky like whimsical foals, neither speaking nor moving during this odd and solitary moment. Cloudsdale was just a little more westward from where we stood. Its rainbow falls were still glistening with fractal beauty even from such a distance away—our home. It was so close and yet so far. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever looked at the sky from the ground—really looked. I'm amazed at how blue everything is.” I marveled at the shapes of the clouds, how they drifted slowly across the blue canvas, and how the wind hummed its song amidst the forest. 

“It’s… It's beautiful.”

A lonely cloud drifts over the sun, casting a shadow beneath its shade as the ground feels cooler by the second. For a few seconds, the breeze accentuates the stillness of the shadow. When the cloud parted, it felt like a curtain was lifted from the sky.

“... Yeah.” Night Light softly affirms. “It is.”

The wind picked up pace for a second, elevating blades of grass in a wild flurry. Seedlings from mature dandelions float beyond my sightline as I watch them flutter out of my view. I kept turning my head until I locked eyes with Night Light again.

I looked away from her, once again feeling ashamed to peer at her. I finally knew what I was going to say next.

This is going to hurt.

“Look, I… I know that I fucked up.” I admitted with no shortage of shame. “I know I fucked up badly. I know that I ruined our lives. I know there is no going back after what I did. I know you have no right to stay with me after everything. I know what I did was unforgivable. I know I don’t forgive myself.” 

I inhaled another shaky breath, feeling my eyes grow moist by the second. Why is this so difficult? 

“And, I-I know that you have every right to leave. And if you do, I… I won’t stop you. I won’t f-force you to stay with me because of my selfish reasons. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

I finally turn my head down to look at Night Light in the eyes, cheeks wet with tears. She looks at me with paleish-jade eyes that glisten in the sunlight. After seeing her holding back tears, I wanted to dig in a hole and cry myself to sleep. Yet I continued onward despite this.

“If you know for a fact—with a certainty—that you will not be happy for another day with me, then I won’t stop you. I will let you go. I know I don’t deserve you anyway.” Feeling my head sag, these following words somehow felt heavier. “But if you think there is still a chance—no matter how minuscule it may seem—if there is still a chance for us to be happy…” I couldn’t finish, even if I wanted to. More of my words died in my tightened throat as I felt tears stream freely down my cheeks. The gravity nearly sagged me down to hug the earth. 

Glomp!

Soft feathers and supple skin warmed my being as Night Light embraced me, with hooves and wings—wrapping around me like a cocoon. I felt myself blinking hard, unsure of what had just happened. She tightened her grip around me as I heard choked gasps. But this time, not from me. She sobs quietly as she buries her eyes into my shoulders. 

“Please stop.” I heard her muffled voice plead through my coat. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay,”

I gingerly returned the embrace, my hooves clutching around her barrel with desperation. 

“It’s not okay,” I answered before surrendering to another messy crying episode.

“I don’t care,” she stammers through her tightened throat. “Please don’t leave. Not again.”

The floodgates were now well and truly opened. Both of us sobbed into each other, asking for forgiveness, comfort, and something other than the torment we had endured for far too long.

“I love you.” Night Light mumbles into me.

“I know,” I stammered, “I love you, too.”

“... Thank you.”