A year has passed since Dai-Shocker's invasion. Now, the tables have turned. Wyatt and his friends are preparing to take the fight right to them.
Almost one year has passed since we last left Wyatt Matthews. In that time he and his friends have been preparing for the fight against Dai-Shocker. With their goal of taking the fight to the universe conquerors in sight, Wyatt is left with questions. Why does Dai-Shocker want to capture him? And can he defeat them before he ever has to find out?
Thunder rumbled in the distance, a darkening overcast hanging over the Falcon coast. If one strained their eyes, they might just make out the large silhouettes in the brewing storm. As luck would have it, the citizens of Griffonstone were too arrogant to do so.
Wyatt sat by a small fire, a pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes. With their help he saw the outskirts of Griffonstone. The reconstructed walls were heavily guarded by armored griffons. He'd found no signs of the scouts that had been sent out earlier in the day. If they didn't send a signal soon, he'd have to get word to Twilight and the strategy team.
Pulling the binoculars away, he shook his head. Perhaps he could do his own scouting? It wouldn’t take much to zoom in and check things out. Then again, the bigger problem would be if the previous scouts had been caught, it could give away their entire plan. Summoning his belt, he continued to debate his next move.
Kicking dirt onto his fire, he decided to stretch his legs and get a closer look at the city. With a quick use of a few cards, Wyatt was in his armor, on his way and unseen by the rest of the world.
The world around him slowed to a crawl, barely moving as he dashed over the city's wall. The streets at the outskirts were barren, no signs of life save for the guards patrolling the walls. That changed once he was closer to the central square. There were soldiers frozen in various states of faux combat. Wyatt took note of their armor as he passed. It was impressive, more than it had any right to be given how poor Griffonstone was supposed to be.
Griffonstone showed no signs of its trademark poverty. Buildings had been rebuilt, streets repaved, and the walls reinforced. All of this, under an insane doctor. It almost felt bad to be mounting an attack against the town. Almost being the key word. If Gilda was to be believed then this was all in the service of invading Equestria.
Wyatt didn’t have time to admire the architecture, there was still the matter of finding the scouting team and getting a gauge of the town’s fortifications. Slowing himself, he slipped into the closest alley. Pressing himself against the wall, he did his best to recall the city’s layout. He scanned his surroundings, finding landmarks he could use to better keep track of everything. Oddly enough, the information seemed to be sinking in, but he barely paid any mind to that as he kept at his task.
He came out of the alley to a row of houses, the street empty of people. Opening one of the doors, he examined the closest home for signs of life. With no one in sight, he relaxed just a little. Going inside, he closed the door behind him. Scanning the room, everything seemed normal. Going room by room, he confirmed that no one was in the house. Was everyone out and about? The only signs of life had been military related. That didn't bode well.
Checking his mental timer, Wyatt cancelled his transformation. Looking out the nearest window, he figured he could hide out in the home for a bit while he waited to use the Clock Up card again. He returned to the kitchen and pulled out a human friendly looking snack as he took a seat.
"No one around save for the military in the square, what do you make of things, Ninjor?" He inquired, putting his sword on the table. “Can’t be anything good. Not with a guy like Shadow running the place.”
The air wavered for a moment, Ninjor taking shape in the chair across from Wyatt. He crossed his arms over his chest, nodding in thought. “I’d say that every able-bodied griffon must be assisting with this war effort in some way. Can’t imagine what they’ve done with the sick if the other homes are like this one.”
“You don’t think...?” Wyatt let the thought linger, though it was clear on his face what he was considering.
“We can only hope,” Ninjor said, a somber tinge to his voice. “Was there anything else you learned from your trek? I still cannot see anything when you do that.”
Wyatt shook his head, glancing back towards the door. “Just that the guards were heavily armed. Doesn’t look all that dangerous, but who knows what they have up their sleeves.”
“Seems that Shadow has been busy this year as well,” Ninjor commented, nodding along. “And you said only the square had griffons there?”
Nodding his head, laying out a rather shoddy map. “Here’s hoping they didn’t rearrange the streets with the reconstruction.”
“Can you gauge where we might be?” Ninjor asked, leaning over the table to examine the map in full. “How far are we from the square?”
Recalling his journey, Wyatt traced his path on the map. “If everything’s the same, then we should be about here. I think,” he stated, tapping at a spot. “Where were the scouts supposed to be meeting?”
Thinking for a moment, Ninjor pointed at the southeastern corner of the city. “There, where Gilda had said the mountain pass forms a natural blindspot in the guard rotations and the updrafts make flying difficult.”
Wyatt traced the spot Ninjor indicated back to what he believed was their current position. “Ok, so basically the opposite end of the city. We’ll hole up here until their meet up time and then see if we can find them there.”
“I suggest you steel yourself then.” Ninjor motioned to the chair across from him. “Let us have a bit of meditation. A clear mind is key to winning an engagement.”
“Good thing my head's usually empty anyway,” Wyatt joked, steadying his breathing to begin his meditation. “Otherwise, I’d probably have gotten my ass kicked even more.”
Closing his eyes, Wyatt allowed himself to relax. Before his training with Ninjor, the closest thing to spiritual experiences he'd had was the rituals he was able to witness on the reservations. Now though, it had become as normal to him as everything else in the magical world he called home. The dim awareness of his surroundings grounded him as he turned inward.
Wyatt began his meditation by picturing the forms that Ninjor had taught him. If the ninja master was to be believed then the clearer the image one held, the easier it was to put into practice. He started with simple things like stances, trying to put as much detail as possible into his imaginings. Once he was satisfied with that, he moved onto the katas that Ninjor had taught him.
“So, as much as I love meditation,” Wyatt started, continuing his mental exercise. “When are we gonna try those ninpo you were talking about?”
“When you can complete your meditation without speaking, then I will consider it,” came Ninjor’s sharp reply.
“Taskmaster,” Wyatt muttered, continuing his task. He continued the session without another word.
His eyes shot open, a soft vibration emanating from his wrist. A brief look told him it was almost time to rendezvous. "Okay, looks like we've gotta move," he said, grabbing his sword off the table. Transforming again, he ran out the door while the world around him ground to a standstill.
Weaving through the rest of town, his boots transitioning from stone to dirt. The terrain meant nothing, unable to slow his stride. Ejecting the card, he crept his way up the rise to the meeting spot. When the last of his armor faded, he found a spot against a rock to take a seat. He examined his surroundings, making sure he was out of direct sight of the city.
A casual glance showed no signs of the scouts, nor any signs of a scuffle. Crouching down, Wyatt put himself on high alert and scanned his immediate surroundings. Sucking in a deep breath, he moved slowly and carefully. After a few minutes, he was able to spot a lone griffon patrolling the crags. The cat-bird was grumbling, obviously uncomfortable with the winds that buffeted the area.
Snatching up a rock, he bounced it off a boulder on a longer path. Reaching a hand back, he slipped one of his knives out of its holster. Tensing his legs, he urged the griffon towards the sound. The griffon took the bait, a spear at the ready as he inched toward the disturbance.
Wyatt grinned to himself, poising himself to strike. He’d only get one shot at taking the griffon by surprise and the last thing he needed was for an alarm to be raised. Springing out, Wyatt leapt upon his opponent. Bringing his weapon up, he jabbed it between the griffon’s wings. The griffon convulsed, an electric shock travelling along his spine. He made a weak attempt to throw Wyatt off, his limbs moving like he was made of lead.
“Yeah, not sorry about this,” Wyatt said, easing the griffon to the ground. He held the shock a few beats longer, ceasing it only when the body went limp. With a grunt of effort, he dragged the griffon behind some boulders. Securing the prisoner with some well placed zip ties, Wyatt stepped out into view.
“If you guys are around, I took care of the bird,” he called out into the crags. “I need a sitrep, asap.”
Responding to his call, a few of the rocks in the area revealed themselves to be changelings. They flittered over to him, grim looks on their faces. “I searched my area, no sign of Shadow.”
“I couldn’t find anything,” another spoke up, flittering their wings.
“I have locations of troops, but I have no idea where General Shadow might be,” a third added, crossing their arms over their chest. “Maybe Shadow isn’t on the surface?”
Of course the general wouldn’t be out in the open. No contact from Somber must have sent him scurrying into a hole like a mouse. “Any evidence of underground tunnels? Entrances we could storm, ventilation shafts?”
"Nothing concrete, but I managed to get into one of the military buildings," the third changeling admitted with a shoulder shrug. "A pair of guards were preventing entry into a random room. No signs of weapons or an officer's office so that caught my eye."
Certainly something to look into. “Do you remember which building it was?”
The changeling pulled out a map from his pocket, studying it for a moment. Looking up to Wyatt, he pointed at a building near the central square where the drills had taken place. “You should be able to get in through the roof entrance.”
The changelings exchanged a look. "I passed the intel to Pharynx; he wants you to return to the camp for now.” His blue exoskeleton deepened to a purple. “I’m Plex, by the way. These are my brothers, Carpol and Tend.”
"Nice to meet you guys," Wyatt said, giving the trio fist bumps. "I'd give you my name, but I'm guessing you know it already."
Tend, a bright yellow changeling possessing an uncommon amount of muscle, thumped a hand against his chest. “Of course we do! You helped Equestria accept us. Everyone knows who you are.”
Wyatt chuckled, almost blushing. "Come on, I didn't do all that much. Besides, I'm an outsider to Equestria too, it wouldn't be right not to put in a word for you."
Slapping Wyatt’s back, the scrawny dull grey changeling known as Carpol beamed ear to ear. “Oh come on, don’t be so bashful. You did us a bigger favor than we can ever return.”
Wyatt chuckled again, shaking his head. "You guys are doing more than enough. If you're doing the right thing, you never worry about repayment. Well, that's what my grandpa always said anyway."
Carpol let out a deep laugh, jostling Wyatt’s shoulder. “Yup, that’s a pony enough saying alright.”
Chittering in amusement, Plex inclined his head to the city. “Tend and I will head back into the city and continue our mission.” Shifting his head, he looked at Carpol. “You go with Wyatt back to his camp. We’ll update you on the hour.”
"Good luck you guys," Wyatt said, sheathing his stun knife. He'd have to let the Guardian techs know the thing worked like a dream. "Have fun in there." Turning towards his camp, Wyatt started to walk along the craggy path. Carpol was right behind him, the scout clearly in high spirits. “So, what’s the craziest form you’ve ever taken?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Carpol sniffed, a bit of lightning reflecting off his eyes. “That really a question you wanna ask right now?”
Wyatt shrugged, hopping over a small gap. “I figured we’ve got some time to kill, why not strike up a conversation?”
Flying over the gap, Carpol found he couldn’t really argue. “Good enough reason for me. After the queen...” his words faltered for a moment, but he continued with new ones. Ones that didn’t hurt. “After Pharynx reorganized our forces, he had a few of us infiltrators help in testing the G-3 project. I had to turn into that hydra-cat thing.”
“Ugh, Mr. Meowgi,” Wyatt grumbled, phantom aches breaking out all over his body. “He hit me with a bank vault door you know. Dozens of times.”
That got a soft snicker out of Carpol. “Oh yeah, Spearhead told us all about it.” A flicker of flame washed over his throat. “Mrow! Remember me, Wyatt? When I hit with that vault, over and over again? I talked. Just. Like. This~”
A groan escaped Wyatt’s lips and he shook his head. “Okay, who showed you Roger Rabbit?” “Can’t give away my sources,” Carpol responded, falling back to his natural voice. “So uh, was that cat thing really made out of magic clay?”
Wyatt nodded, keeping an eye on the city walls as their path led them closer to it. There was no guard patrolling that part for now, putting him at ease for the moment. “Yeah, and baked in a magic kiln.”
Pausing, Carpol swiveled his ears to the side, tracking some sound. Seconds dragged on, almost a full minute passing before he was satisfied it hadn’t been anything. “I heard some of the science people talking about it. Any luck making more?”
“I’m guessing not since Twi hasn’t excitedly told me about it. This is alternate reality witchcraft, so the principles are fundamentally different from the spell matrices of your typical unicorn,” Wyatt recited, having heard that from his girlfriend dozens of times. “Plus, we only have what we got from the cat.”
“Kinda figured,” Carpol relented, his wings buzzing for a moment. “Still, the lab guys are really impressive. You should see what they put into the prime G-3 suit. Said it was based on something called a cyber elf.”
Arriving at the campsite, Wyatt knelt by the firepit. “I should know, I live with that elf.” Tossing a few sticks in, he brought a small fire to life. “It shouldn’t surprise you that they’re already drafting up G-4.”
Carpol’s eyes glittered in the light of the fire, a grin on his face. “Oh really? I might have to put in an application. I’ve been eyeing those suits for a while.”
“That sort of thing includes being on the front lines,” Wyatt said, giving him an appraising look. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
“Many ‘lings have already sacrificed so much for this cause, Wyatt,” Carpol said, staring into the fire. “And even though the princesses have given us their seal of approval, there are plenty of ponies that don’t trust us. So maybe if a changeling could become a Rider, it could sway some hearts.”
Wyatt nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. While travelling for his job, he’d run into more than his fair share of prejudiced ponies. “Just as long as you know what you’re getting into.”
A howl grew on the winds, the darkening sky threatening rain. It was funny, Wyatt thought. So paranoid had the griffon’s become and yet they weren’t watching the sky. It was a flaw Equestria had latched onto like a tick.
The jovial atmosphere between them was quietly subsumed by a rising tension. Gazing at the sky, Wyatt imagined he could make out the silhouettes of the air fleet in the clouds. For the first time since its founding, Equestria was poised to strike at another nation, and he was at the forefront.
Summoning his Driver, Wyatt took a brief moment to collect himself and reflect. He couldn't say he ever expected to siege a city when he became a Rider. Putting the belt on, he waited for his signal.
The Invincible hovered over the center of Griffonstone, camouflaged by a sea of writhing clouds. Several other ships loitered over the city, ready to deploy their troops into the city. All waiting on the orders of one pony: the recently crowned Princess Twilight.
Admiral Celaeno stood at the helm, keeping her eye on the Invincible’s crew. In one talon was a message crystal with a direct line to the Princess. Twilight had just been given the word that the fleet was in position and standing by. The old bird wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she did have to wonder if the scholarly pony was up to the task of being a commander.
“We’re waiting on your orders, Princess,” Celaeno reminded, having decided she had given Twilight enough time to get her ducks in a row.
“Sorry Admiral,” Twilight replied, her voice distorted by the crystal. “Pharynx just gave me a last minute report from his scouts. Tell your ground troops to focus on the eastern bunkhouse; there’s an underground facility where Shadow is likely holed up. Give the order to proceed the moment I’m done speaking to the troops.”
The former pirate gave a quick affirmative, putting the crystal away. “Alright, relay to the drop jockeys where we’re focusing on. It’s time we earn our paychecks, ladies!”
On each vessel of the fleet, a changeling took Twilight’s form. Standing before the gathered troops, they spoke with her words. “There are no words to describe the pain I feel asking this of you. Equestria was not built on conquest but understanding. We stand here not as conquerors, but as liberators. Remember your training and do your best to keep yourself and your friends alive. Now, let’s cut out a bit of cancer from our world.”
A war chant broke out among the crew, followed by a rhythmic stomping of hooves. The fanfare slowly died out as the troops began their drop. Celeano took up the helm, directing the fleet to do their part.
Twilight revved the throttle of her motorcycle. Wyatt had been very specific with the lab techs about the design. A slim, silver bike with gold flourishes on the sides. The front of the bike was red and styled after her Flame Style helmet. With the screech of tires, she rode off The Invincible's bow and began a freefall into Griffonstone. A moment later and a platoon of G-3 Milds followed suit.
Allowing herself to plummet for a moment, she enjoyed the brief moment of weightlessness. "Dragorise! Please~" Her driver chirped, compelling a circle of magic into existence. With a mighty roar, a silver dragon emerged from the circle, its red eyes gleaming with pride. Flapping its mighty wings, the drake put itself beneath the falling alicorn. Pushing a button, Twilight's bike unfolded, becoming a saddle on the dragon that fanned out across its wings.
A proud grin split across Twilight's face, glad she could pull off the maneuver with minimal effort. Her fall now a dive, the alicorn aimed for the central square. The dragon spread its wings, buffeting the ground with a blast of air. Landing with as much grace as a several hundred pound dragon could, it came face to face with a regimen of griffons. Spinning around, the dragon's tail lashed into the lake of bodies.
“Hear me, lost creatures! Lay down your arms, or have them wrenched from your talons!”
"Lost creatures, really Bahamut?" Twilight whispered to her mount, drawing her gun from a portal. With a well aimed shot, the head of a spear belonging to a charging griffon shattered before they could reach the drake.
“Perhaps I should have said wayward?” he questioned mockingly. Pushing himself into a run, he trampled through the griffon forces. “Speeches are for those whose actions can’t speak for them.”
Rolling her eyes, Twilight opened fire on the griffons that Bahamut couldn't reach. "You do realize I just gave a speech before this battle, right?"
Bahamut snorted, batting a swooping griffon out of the sky. “You are young and irritatingly ponish. You will learn.”
Sighing, Twilight continued to pick off griffons that charged at Bahamut's blindspots. Her draconic pride surged, almost making her believe that the G-3 platoon was unnecessary. That confidence came into question when enemy shots started ringing out.
Darting in and out of cover, griffon reinforcements encroached on the square. Wielding an odd gun, which resembled an insectoid stinger, the advancing soldiers laid down covering fire. Recovering their senses, the scattered griffons fell back to their new battleline.
Shields flickered to life across the Equestrian line, the less armored unicorns collecting along the back. With a signal from Twilight, another unit of unicorns cast a spell that enshrouded the battlefield in a dense fog. The idea was simple, eagles were sight oriented hunters, and griffons just happened to share that quality with their resembled top half. Equipped with thermal sensors, the fog had a negligible effect on the armored suits.
The sound of flapping wings signaled the Equestrian squads that the griffons were trying to get above the fog. Once the thermal sensors revealed that the griffons had left their cover, the G-3s opened fire. Pained shrieks filled the air, scores of griffons falling under the hail of bullets.
A cry rose up among the unicorns, barely audible over the shattering of shields. Air rushed at Twilight, her head rocking to the side. Her world throbbed, disoriented. With a quick flash of her horn, she cleared out the fog so she could get a look at what was going on. Once the last of the vapor cleared, she was greeted by a hulking behemoth of a griffon.
A minotaur bodybuilder would be quick to ask this being for tips on a pec workout. The griffon had no arms, clean stumps levelling out his chest. Spectral arms floated around him, many closed into fists. Spinning around, Twilight hopped off of Bahamut’s back.
“Bahamut, help the advance continue, I’ll take care of this guy,” she said, slipping her Copy ring onto her finger. With a quick flip of her belt, she suddenly had four of herself running to surround the bizarre griffon.
Meeting her with a hard gaze, the griffon flared his wings. “I would not be so hasty,” he said, interposing a clustering of hands between himself and the four Twilight’s. “You might just find you need the dragon’s strength.”
Two of the Twilights switched her swords to its gun form and hung in the back while the other two went in to charge the griffon from his left and right.
“I am Wulfgar, the Hecatoncheire.” Dozens of hands shimmered into existence, striking out at the pair. “Third of the Griffonstone Goreknights”
The left Twilight spun around the oncoming spectral hands while the right Twi blocked the attacks with her sword. Meanwhile, the remaining two Twilights strafed around Wulfgar and fired curving shots at the brute.
“Kamen Rider Wizard,” Twilight replied, the blocking clone sliding along the ground from the blows. “Guardian of Harmony.”
“I know who you are.” Several arms intercepted the projectiles. “And I look forward to displaying your corpse above my door.”
“Just because you’ve got a fancy little power, doesn’t mean you’re ready for a fight with me,” Twilight warned, her draconic pride bristling at the challenge.
Wulfgar smirked, one of his hands gut punching a Twilight clone. “I think you're counting your chickens before they hatch, pony.”
The punched Twilight reeled from the blow. Wulfgar hit with the force of a Rider, that was for sure. He might’ve been cocky, but it was clear there was some skill to back it up. The other three Twilights put on a new ring, flipping their belts once more.
“Big! Please!” a chorus of Drivers called out, three large arms holding swords extending out of magic circles aiming to stab Wulfgar.
Merging his many hands together, Wulfgar bat away the outermost blades. Rushing forward, the original Twilight cancelled her spell and kicked Wulfgar in the beak while he was preoccupied.
Were Wulfgar’s abilities natural? Had he submitted himself to Shadow’s experiments to regain lost limbs? Given them up for power? Whatever happened, Wulfgar was in her way.
Spitting out a glob of blood, Wulfgar managed to stay on his feet. He managed a grim chuckle and shot a glare at Twilight. "Full of tricks, just like he said you'd be. But you're holding back." Striking out in a blind volley, Wulfgar stepped closer. “We won’t.”
Snorting, Twilight bobbed and weaved through the oncoming phantom arms. Pulling off her Flame Style ring, she replaced it with a yellow one. Flipping her belt, she tapped the new ring onto it.
"Land Dragon!" A magic circle appeared behind Twilight, a yellow dragon flying out of it to merge with the kirincorn. Her armor changed, resembling the Flame Dragon form save for its yellow coloration.
Cacophonous sound collided with Twilight’s back, blotting out the sense completely. Her armor faltered, flickering in and out of existence. Dropping her sword, Twilight pumped as much magic as she could into maintaining her suit. Another shriek of a guitar echoed out along the city, colliding with her side this time. Skidding along the ground, Twilight felt the bitter rain strike her fur as the last of her armor faded from existence.
Another form swooped down to join Wulfgar. A lanky griffon, sporting a poncho and bearing a guitar, hovered besides him. His head bore a crest one might find on a cockatiel. “What’s the matter, princess? Too loud for ya?”
Grimacing, Twilight forced herself into a defensive stance as she observed the newcomer. Using her horn was clearly out. If this newcomer’s technique could take out the concentrated magic of her armor, then letting spells fly would only end poorly.
The new griffon cackled, strumming his talons across his guitar. “Name’s Elminster, the Spelljammer. Heard you was a spellslinger, so I thought I’d make your day a bit more interestin’.”
“I’m part dragon and part alicorn, all my days are interesting,” Twilight countered, sucking in a deep breath through her nose. She may not be able to fight Elminster with magic, but she had other tools at her disposal.
Elminster’s talon began to move, opening another solo. An impact to her right showered Twilight in dirt and stone. Diving to the side, she lost only an inch of air as the next attack came. Her draconic pride surged, demanding she stand and fight. The rest of her had other plans. Glancing down, she launched a ball of fire at the ground and kicked up a burst of loam and dust to obstruct her enemies’ view.
“Bah! Wulfgar, get rid of this dust!” Elminster commanded, covering his eyes.
Wulfgar conjured a score of arms, waving them wildly to clear away the kicked up cloud. When the dust settled, Twilight was nowhere to be seen. “She scampered off. Take away a pony’s toys and they’re just scared chicks.”
“Heh, guess she knew I was the worst match up for her,” Elminster snickered, casually patting his guitar. “Come on, we can find our fun elsewhere.”
Wulfgar nodded, moving to where he’d last seen the Equestrian forces marching. Elminster hung back, keeping an eye on his fellow Goreknight in case the little princess had any funny ideas. He didn’t make it far as something small struck the back of his head. Whipping around, he found a griffon hen casually tossing up a handful of pebbles and smirking at the desperado.
“Elmer? Is that you?” The hen asked, dropping the pebbles and adjusting her jacket. “What’s with the getup? You lose a bet?”
Elminster squawked, crest standing on end. “You’re one to talk! What’s a matter, Gilda? Your precious ponies kick you out on your ass? Maybe if you kiss my paws I’ll put in the good word for you.”
“Au contraire, Elmer. They didn’t kick me out; they gave me something special.” Bringing up her wrist, she displayed a bracelet of some kind with an odd trinket, little wings pointing downwards on its side. Pulling off the trinket, Gilda did a quick flourish, raising the device above her head. “Sonic Speed, Green Ranger power!” Pressing a button on the side, the little wings flipped up to take the shape of a ‘V’. A green projection of a V flew out of the trinket colliding with Gilda and wrapping around her form.
Sound blasted from Elminster’s guitar, crashing into Gilda. “Where’s your pride, Gilda? They give you table scraps and you’re jumping to their beck and call.”
"Where's yours?" She replied, her suit solidifying. Green spandex-like material covered her. A white and gold V went down her chest with a silver triangle at her breasts. White boots and gloves cuffed with gold protected her talons and paws. Her green helmet's eye area was made up of a series of triangles at the center flanked by diamonds that came together to form a larger triangle. "You're being used as pawns by a madman."
“I’m protecting my home from armed invaders,” Elminster retorted. His poncho fell away, talons picking up speed. Metal covered his body, highlighted by vacuum tubes and thick cabling. A hum built as the pace of his playing increased. The tubes lining his armor began to light up. “Let’s see if that fancy little toy can handle stratospheric decibels!”
Gilda recoiled, taking in the device her fellow griffon was wearing. Her self preservation kicked in at the raising whir and she took off to avoid whatever he was planning. "Goddess Elmer, what'd they do to you?"
“They gave me the means to protect what’s mine!” Strumming violently, magic lashed out from Elminster’s guitar. “Did those other traitors come back with you? Taking that runt with you really broke ol’ Gruff’s heart.”
"Gallus and Gabby are safe, not that you care," Gilda replied, pumping her wings to avoid the sonic blasts. "Shadow had you all banging the drums of invading Equestria. This was never about defense. If it was, why'd we get armed before being fed and rebuilt?"
Elminster’s armor crackled, sharing its power with his guitar. “A good offense is the best defense.”
"And what did he offer to prove Equestria was going to invade?" Gilda questioned, drawing a thin white and black blaster off her hip. Spinning in the air, she opened fire on the guitar. "Ponies are pansies unless you threaten them."
Picking at his strings, Elminster met Gilda’s attack with a wall of sound. “I’m not here to debate with you. Me and the rest of the Gorefeathers are going to rip those tin cans apart.”
Clicking her tongue, Gilda wracked her brain for an answer to his odd powers. Roaring in frustration, she summoned her weapon. It didn't look like much, a hammer that she was easily able to hold in one hand with an almost drum-like head to it. Running along either side of it were golden V's and triangles matching the lens of her helmet. Diving down, she swung at the guitar.
His playing began to intensify, his sonic assault blasting apart the weaker buildings. “I’ll liquify you, traitor.” The hum of his suit increased, pouring electricity into the sound. “Maybe I can sell what’s left to Greta. You were sweet with her, right?”
Gilda was blown back by the sound waves, crashing through a nearby wall. She idly noted that it was the old library if the restored statue of the king was in the same place. Coughing, she tried to get the ringing in her ears to stop. "I was sweet with your dad too," she croaked, trying to hide the pain in her voice.
“You think I care what that asshole does? If that was supposed to be an insult, you're the butt of the joke.”
Pushing herself to her feet, Gilda shook her head. "Yeesh, and I thought daddy issues was a hen thing." Gilda watched her opponent closer, looking for an opening. She knew she couldn’t hesitate, the longer she was out of close range the more at risk she was for another blast. A light bulb went off over her head and a wicked grin split her beak. Moving subtly, she put herself in front of a support beam.
“Come on, Elmer. You really think this is doing anyone any good?”
Strumming his guitar, Elminster sent out another sonic blast. "Do you ever shut up!?"
“Do you ever think?” Propelling herself to the left, Gilda allowed the blast to accelerate her. Careening out a window, she soared into the air. Behind her, the great library collapsed, burying Elminster under its weight.
The rubble settled, no movement to be seen while the dust cloud scattered on the storm winds. Just when Gilda thought the battle was won, several stones started to shudder. Elminster dragged himself against a bookshelf, a wing hanging limp.
“Y-you bitch...” he wheezed, grabbing at a piece of wood lodged in his chest plate.
Angling her wings, Gilda dove down at the dazed musician. Pulling up at the last moment, Gilda swung her hammer to have it collide with Elminster's face. Flapping once, she gracefully landed. "That's bad bitch, and don't you forget it."
Wyatt crossed the battlefield, sword in hand. With a quick stroke, he took out another griffon soldier. Even with the support of the guns, Wyatt was cutting through the resistance with relative ease. The plan was proceeding smoothly so far, which meant that he fully expected for something to go wrong. It was just a question of how close to Shadow he could get before said disaster struck.
Diverting down an unblocked street, Wyatt inserted himself into a skirmish. A lone G-3 had hunkered down behind a collapsed wall, weathering the oncoming assault. Stringers pinged off his armor, a few having found gaps. Crouching beside the soldier, Wyatt looked him over.
Sliding into cover, Wyatt signaled his arrival. Getting an affirmative, he sprang out of cover. Brandishing his sword, he cut through the closest griffon's weapons. With a flick of his wrist, he brought the hilt of his blade down on the temple of the opposing warrior and the griffon dropped with a gurgling squawk.
Rolling out of cover, G-3 downed a pair of griffons with burst fire. Twisting his body, his gauntlet caught an incoming blade. Pivoting around G-3, Wyatt kicked the attacking griffon in the chest. With a surprised cry, the avian fighter crashed into a nearby wall.
“You good?” Wyatt asked, sparing a glance to G-3.
"Yeah, just got winged a little," the other rider answered. Even with the helmet distortion Wyatt could tell the stallion was young. Maybe right around Twilight’s age give or take a year. G-3’s armor shifted, a slight rustling of fabric could be heard within. “Barely punctured the undersuit. I won’t even need stitches after the battle at this rate.”
Nodding, Wyatt advanced within the alley, pressing his back on the corner to peek around it. There was a squad of Milds facing off against a set of gun wielding griffons. The griffons had their backs to him, making his next decision easy. “Good, now stay put for a second. I’m gonna get the drop on these turkeys.”
“Attack Ride: Invisible!” The air shimmered around Wyatt as he disappeared from sight. Strolling out of the alley, he casually approached the line of griffons. The first griffon dropped to a crack to the skull. The second and third collided in spectacular fashion, while the final griffon found a foot in his beak.
Once the last griffon fell, Wyatt reappeared and looked to the stunned squad. “Thought you fellas could use a hand.” Looking back to where he left G-3 he added, “You’re clear to come out, I took out the trash.”
Checking his weapon, G-3 nodded in affirmation. “Better than I could’ve.”
Patting his case, Wyatt chuckled. "True, I'm like a swiss army knife in rider form. Where were you headed?”
The apparent leader of the squad stepped forward. "We've been given orders to shore up the rear of the main forces assaulting Shadow's presumed location. Also, we've just gotten word from the hive that there's a group called the Gore Knights trying to slam through our flanks."
“Give me a direction,” Wyatt ordered, popping open his case.
“From our current location, north east,” another of the squad chimed in. “Since you have forms that can fly, no sense giving you street directions, Decade.”
Transforming into Cassie form, Wyatt took his leave. Charging his suit’s capacitors, lightning greeted those brave enough to approach him.
“Wyatt!”
The familiar shout caused Wyatt to halt his flight in an instant, arcs of electricity jolting in front of him before fizzling out in the air. Cocking his head, he scanned the ground below for the source of the voice. His gut reaction was to shout back, but he reasoned that'd only make him an easy target for some griffon gunners.
A hand stuck out of a doorway, bearing a red ring. Needing no other signal, Wyatt tucked into a dive before fanning his wings out. Touching down, he slunk towards the door.
"Twi, what happened?" Wyatt asked, backing into the house. "Why aren't you armored up?"
Twilight pushed the door closed, looking down at herself in irritation. “It was one of those Gore Knights. He had some ability to disrupt magic with sound waves. I’ve been trying for minutes now to gather my magic and transform again but my driver won’t even appear.”
Touching her ring to her belt, she demonstrated the issue. "I’ve been using smokescreens to stay out of sight. Don’t know how much longer that’ll work.”
"Luckily I was able to find you," Wyatt stated, brow knitting beneath his helmet. "I can keep guard while you work to build your magic back up. Anything else I should know about these Gore Knights?"
“I only saw two of them. One could summon dozens of phantom hands, and the other disrupts magic. Gilda confronted him while I slipped away.”
Wyatt nodded, trying to think. "Okay. I'm thinking we should meet up with Gilda and focus on the Gore Knights. Let the Milds handle the main assault."
Twilight found herself running odds. Those odds went up with Wyatt, but she was still armorless. With just a sword and no magic, she wondered how long it would take before one of those stingers hit her? The idea of using Wyatt as a living shield didn't appeal to her in the slightest. Chewing her lip, her eyes wandered as she labored over a plan.
Settling on the young man's card case, her eyes lit up. "We may not have to wait for my magic. Wyatt, do you remember where I put that Birth Driver I copied from alternate Spike?"
“Yeah, I do.” Swapping in his Wizard card, Wyatt thought it strange to be wearing his lover’s armor. “Haven’t got much practice with this one. Let’s see how I do.”
"Attack Ride: Connect!" A red magic circle appeared beside Wyatt. After a moment's hesitation, he plunged his hand through the shelf of the library greeting his fingers on the other side.
His searching hands found nothing. “Er, Twilight? You sure you left it on the research bench?”
"Of course I'm sure," Twilight answered, bristling at the question. "I triple check where everything is in the lab before and after every experiment."
Pulling his hand back, Wyatt shook his head. “There’s nothing there, Twi.”
Twilight remained silent, her expression neutral. It wasn’t inconceivable that she’d misplace something after an all night study session, but she’d been fairly certain that she hadn’t moved the driver in weeks. "We don't have time to tear the tree house apart," she concluded with a huff. "We just have to press forward."
“Stop to get you a Mild?”
"The spare suits are in the ships," Twilight stated, shaking her head. "It'd take too long to retrieve one.”
Moving past him, Twilight slipped out the street. Snatching a few stringer guns, she slung them over her shoulder. “We’ll split up. You attract the most attention, which means you should pull in the Gore Knights. I’ll link up with Gilda and make our way back to you.”
Crossing back into daylight, Wyatt snapped a quick salute. "As you wish, Your Highness," he stated, taking to the air. "Operation Magenta Bullseye is a go!"
Wrapping her wings around herself, Twilight hustled down the avenue. The battle worked in her favor, most combatants too busy shooting at each other to spot her. Shoving her hand in the stinger gun, she took a moment to familiarize herself with the trigger mechanism. It was rather large and fired when she clenched her hand into a fist. On the portion where her palm rested there was a button she assumed extended the stinger blade.
Confident she could shoot the foreign gun, Twilight tried to retrace her steps to where she'd left Gilda. Tightening her wings around herself, she dipped into the shadows. The downpour muffled her hoofsteps, allowing her to skirt most engagements. Her journey was slow, hampered by the occasional patrol.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally made it to the street where she’d first encountered the Gore Knights. There were still some skirmishes peppered around the area, but the majority of the battle had progressed elsewhere. Pausing in the alley, Twilight replayed the fight after the arrival of the supernatural griffons. After a few brief moments, she traced the path that Gilda had led the lanky knight down.
Much of the block had been leveled, dust still lingering in the air. After so many generations, Griffonstone had been rebuilt. A testament to what griffons could achieve beyond their miserly ways. And here she was, bringing ruin upon it once again. What had Dai-Shocker driven them to become?
Clenching her jaw, Twilight pressed on. This would not be a pile of rubble for long. Once Shadow was dealt with she would consult the other princesses and rebuild Griffonstone once more. There was no way she'd let Dai-Shocker get the last laugh.
Considering Gilda’s lack of restraint, Twilight decided to check where the wreckage was heaviest. She found Elminster laying in a heap, his equipment broken and sparking. At least he was alive. She considered using a light healing spell on him, but thought better of it. Last thing she needed was her good turn rewarded with talons to the throat.
Where would Gilda have gone? Picking up the remains of Elminster’s guitar, she found no answers for her magicless state. That had to mean that Elminster himself was the source and the guitar was a focus of some sort. Tossing the guitar aside, Twilight pulled her focus back to the task at hand. Research could come later.
Breaking into a light jog, Twilight continued her search. Following the trail of splinters and shattered glass. An eagle’s screech brought her down a junction. A wall exploded, a handful of bodies landing on the street. A green form emerged from the dust cloud, staring after the bodies as if to dare them to stand back up.
“Buncha idiots...” Gilda removed her helmet, grabbing a water canteen off a soldier. “You gonna just stand there, Twilight?”
“I’ve been looking for you,” Twilight answered, sighing in relief. Reaching down at her own side, she took a swig off her own waterskin. “I’m still barely able to make my own horn glow,” she continued, wiping her mouth. “I found Wyatt earlier and he’s gone ahead to draw out at least one more of those Gore Knights.”
“With guys like Elmer on the payroll, I doubt they’ll be too much trouble.”
“Nice talk, but can you back it up?” Twilight challenged, motioning in the direction Wyatt had flown off to. “Or do you just want to stomp out the grunts all day?”
"Oh, is that challenge supposed to rile me up?" Gilda asked, a smirk crossing her beak. "Because fuck you, it worked," she concluded slamming her helmet back in place. “Stay behind me, and keep checking your damn magic.”
Twilight fell in line, checking her weapon. “You draw their fire and I’ll return it. We’re cutting through to meet up with Wyatt.”
Gilda snorted, her wings twitching on her back. She dashed forward, though restrained herself so Twilight could just manage to keep pace. "Pretty easy to draw fire, I'm bright green and white."
Resistance was fierce. Whatever their reasons, the griffons fought to protect their home. Twilight met them with her own determination, firing at those who dared to attack Gilda. Her first gun ran out quickly, unused to its weight and recoil. The second lasted longer, finding more targets than not.
Gilda flared her wings out, making herself as large as possible. Whenever Twilight missed a charging foe, she gladly cracked them across the skull with her hammer. Their charge was interrupted by a loud metallic scraping coming from up the street. Gilda was the first to react, using her hammer to block an incoming projectile.
“The Tartarus?” Gilda began, turning her hammer to get a better look at what had sunk into the weapon. “Is that a feather?”
“Do you like it? Not as flashy as the others, I admit.” Heralded by a trill-like giggle, a griffoness emerged from a side street. Her feathers, a light green, bore a metallic sheen in the muted light of the storm. “I gotta say, you look pretty good in green, Gilda.”
"Greta?" Gilda recoiled at the sight of her old friend. "First Elmer, now you?”
Flaring her wings out, several feathers embedded themselves near Gilda’s paws. “It’s Zeta. Not that you’d care.”
Gilda's own wings flared out, bristling at the accusation. "Think whatever you want about me, but I'm gonna rip out Shadow's throat. And not even you're gonna get in my way." Charging, she brought her hammer down towards Zeta's head.
Zeta’s wings crossed above her head. A harsh ringing emitted out as the hammer bounced off the shiny feathers. “There you go, running in without a thought. That’s all you ever do.”
Twilight dashed from around Gilda, opening fire at Zeta's side while she was busy deflecting the hammer. Like the hammer, the stingers plinked off Zeta’s fur.
"Gilda, disengage!" Twilight warned, drawing in a breath to unleash dragon fire. Twilight’s fire caught the side of Gilda’s helmet, wreathing Zeta in flames.
Zeta’s clothes burned, the material falling as ash. Her fur and feathers tinged red, even a bright yellow. Screeching, she swiped at Twilight with white hot talons.
Extending the stringer blade, it fractured on impact. The metal screamed under the heat. Hissing in pain, the force of the swipe sent her hooves digging into the cobble streets.
Gilda slammed into Zeta, sending the two tumbling to the ground. Gilda locked talons with Zeta, grunting in pain as a wing stabbed into her side. Her suit made the extreme heat only slightly tolerable.
"Genius move making her a living hot knife!" Gilda barked, slamming her head into Zeta's beak. A pained squawk and slight crunch greeted her actions, finding one of the few places on the other griffon that wasn't hard as steel.
Kicking Gilda off, Zeta swiped with her serrated wings. Rolling out of the way, Gilda saw the cut in the street Zeta left from the corner of her eye. Whipping her tail out, dust and debris sprayed in the metallic griffon's face. Zeta winced, her vision obscured for a brief moment. Pushing herself up, Gilda put herself between Zeta and Twilight.
"Twi, either get your magic sorted out or get moving," Gilda snapped, looking back at the princess. "Those pea shooters are just dead weight in this fight."
Twilight wanted to argue, but she knew Gilda was right. Steeling herself, she adjusted her ring one more time. With a silent prayer, she placed her hand over her belt.
“Driver on!” the belt shouted, growing to its full driver form. With a wide grin, Twilight slipped her Land Style ring into place and transformed once more.
“Now that’s more like it!” Gilda cackled, pulling Zeta into an arm lock and tossing the other griffon Twilight’s way.
With her armor fully solidified, Twilight charged, slicing Zeta across the stomach. Sliding a hoof between the griffoness’ legs she used her free hand to twist the assassin off her paws and sent her tumbling back to Gilda.
Not missing a beat, Gilda brought her hammer down on Zeta’s fresh wound, making her fellow griffoness bounce off the cobblestones. Zeta’s feathers gouged holes in the cobblestone, many impaling into the street. Twitching her wings, Zeta sent a slew of feathers flying towards her attackers.
Twilight and Gilda jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the projectiles. With a deep thunk, they buried themselves into the wall of a nearby home. Nodding at Gilda, Twilight brought her sword to bear. Pulling open the hand on her sword, Twilight slipped the Finale ring onto her finger before giving her sword a handshake.
“Very Nice! Shake Hands!” Her sword shouted, A magic circle spreading from the hand on the hilt to the blade. Molten rock wrapped around the blade as Twilight moved in to give Zeta a slash straight across the chest. The rocks wrapped around the blade shot out into a crescent of energy, slamming into Zeta’s wings hard enough to dent them and send the hen flying.
Zeta crashed into a shop, bringing it down on top of her. A cloud of dust obscured the wreckage, the cacophony of sound fading into the little plinks of debris.
“Well hot damn,” Gilda said, putting her hammer into its holster at her hip. “Remind me not to piss you off Sparkles.”
“Let’s make sure she’s down before we start celebrating, okay?”
“On it,” Gilda assured, sifting through the wreckage. After a few minutes of picking up the biggest of the debris, Zeta came into view. Kneeling down, Gilda put two talons to the other hen’s neck. “Slow, steady heartbeat. She’s out cold, Princess.”
Twilight nodded, allowing herself to relax. “Let’s get her secured and proceed to the rendezvous point.”
“Not sure we’ve got anything that’ll hold those wings of hers, but I’ll give it a try.” Unmorphing, Gilda reached into her pack. Pulling out a few sets of handcuffs designed to restrict magic, she jury-rigged them together to bind Zeta’s hands to her wings in what was sure to be an uncomfortable position once the would-be assassin awoke.
Wyatt hovered over the battlefield, calling down lightning strikes at indeterminate intervals. He made no effort to be subtle, opting instead to make as much noise as possible while he kept an eye out for any of the Gore Knights. For all his efforts, most of what he had accomplished was giving the Mild Squads breathing room in their charges.
“Oh Gore Knights, come out and play~ay~” Wyatt called out, summoning another bolt. “What? Scared of someone who wears magenta to a fight?!”
Phantom hands shimmered into existence, striking at Wyatt from every angle imaginable. Grunting, Wyatt forced himself into a controlled crash onto a nearby rooftop. His back bounced against the tiles before he forced himself into a roll and came to a jarring stop.
“Operation Magenta Bullseye: great success,” he coughed out, pulling himself to his feet. Spreading his wings, he began building up a charge. Wyatt let his eyes scan the battlefield, looking for his attacker. He muttered a silent curse that he neglected to get a detailed description from Twilight.
Hands erupted through the roof beneath him, dozens of them locking onto his legs. They pulled him down, pivoting in the air to slam him into a wall.
Wyatt groaned, feeling several pops along his spine. He even swore he could hear his bones grinding in protest as he stood once more. Charging himself again, lightning arced around him like a cage.
“I can’t say I’m a fan of the Master Hand act,” he called out. Wyatt kept his ears peeled, figuring he'd hear the knight before seeing him. "NInjor, can you do some recon for me?" He whispered, slowly creeping along the floor. "He can't see or hear you so see if you can find him. I'm looking to avoid a third sneak attack."
Pulling himself away from Wyatt, Ninjor’s wisp sank through the floor. Terrible silence settled in, carrying with it a growing anxiety. In that expanse of moments, Wyatt ran through his card list, stringing together a combat deck. For someone who swarmed him from all sides, there was only one real option to counter.
Ninjor's wisp floated up, retreating into his sword. "If you move five feet to the left, you'd be right above him. One good punch should get you through these weakened floors."
Slipping a new card in, Wyatt crept to his destination. The floor exploded under his fist, raining broken wood down on Wulfgar. “Gotcha~” he grinned, closing his driver.
“Kamen Ride: OOO’s!” His driver called out, red, yellow and green rings emerging from it to cover Wyatt and donning him in the tricolored armor of OOO’s. When his armor solidified, Wyatt followed up with a punch to the griffon’s chest while he was still reeling.
Wulfgar coughed, hands forming around him. “Cheap shot...” He retaliated with a barrage of fists, putting some distance between himself and Wyatt.
“Says the guy who used a sneak attack twice,” Wyatt retorted, bobbing and weaving through the flurry of fists. Despite his best effort, a few of the punches found their mark, sending him sliding along the floor. Gritting his teeth, Wyatt pulled out his next card from his battleplan. “I’m feeling a little outnumbered here, how about I fix that?”
“Form Ride: GataKiriBa!” A musical tune rang out from Wyatt’s belt, his armor shifting to the all green combo.
Wrapping his wings around himself, Wulfgar filled the room with spectral limbs. “Shadow’s gonna give me a king’s ransom for your belt. Now shut up and die!”
Wyatt responded in kind, filling the room with copies of himself. “Good luck with that,” a chorus of his voice sounded all at once. “I’ve been told that I’m harder to kill than a cockroach.” The horns on every copy’s helmet sparked, green lightning arcing towards Wulfgar.
Wulfgar screeched, his hands converging on Wyatt. A good number grabbed weapons, while just as many simply struck out. Beak arched in a smirk, he began his assault. Keeping up the lightning, the army of Wyatts swung the mantis blades on their arms and parried the worst of the barrage. A few powered through the empty handed strikes, dogpiling onto the griffon.
Grunting under the weight, Wulfgar shifted his hands towards prying the clones off. “Get...the hell...off!” Digging his claws in, he took a few steps forward. “I’m not a goddamn teddy bear!”
“Really?” the horde questioned in unison, more clones joining the dogpile. “Because the way you punch could’ve convinced me otherwise.”
A roar of anger tore out of Wulfgar’s throat as he muscled through the growing pile and dashed towards the nearest wall. There was a crash and in a matter of seconds, the griffon was through the building and out onto the street.
“Bad move.” Wyatt filled the street, surrounding Wulfgar in a sea of green and black. “I’m running a little late, so let’s wrap things up.”
“Final Attack Ride: O-O-O-OOO’s!” Wyatt’s belt called out.
Every clone jumped, getting high into the air before positioning their legs for a kick. “Seiya!” the crowd cried, pummeling the massive griffon in a sea of kicks. Wulfgar conjured a few more hands, pushing against the onslaught. They faded out, their master left unconscious.
Sighing in relief, Wyatt’s armor reverted to his base Decade form and the clones faded from existence. “And that is one fried chicken.” Once Wyatt was sure Wulfgar wasn’t going to come to, he grabbed a squad of Milds and had them restrain the knight before he took off towards the rendezvous spot.
Twilight passed along the streets, the sounds of battle threatening to make her ears ring. There was a loud crash coming from the other side of town, something she took as a signal that a Gore Knight had taken Wyatt’s bait. She had to fight her instincts to turn back to the source of the sound. Wyatt was able to take care of himself, despite his goofy disposition suggesting otherwise.
“We’re getting close,” Gilda commented. “You sure you're not gonna have another glitch?”
“I’ll be fine as long as the other Gore Knights don’t have magic disrupting abilities,” Twilight assured, flexing her fingers and feeling her magic flowing freely. “What about you? This is the longest you’ve been morphed.”
Gilda slapped her chest. “You kidding? Never felt better!”
Twilight nodded, taking a turn into a narrow alleyway. “Alright, just be sure to pull out if you start to feel fatigued or any adverse effects.” The only answer she received was a derisive grunt. Her hoof sank into a puddle, threatening to throw her off balance as she came to a sudden stop at the edge of the alley. “I believe that’s the building the scout mentioned. What do you think, Gilda?”
“...Yeah, I wasn’t paying too much attention to the briefing.”
“We’re going to have a talk about that later,” Twilight deadpanned, glancing back at the griffon. “But for now we’ll hold up here until Wyatt shows up.”
Taking off her helmet, Gilda patted at her waist. “The hell did this suit do with my canteen? You see it anywhere?”
“Do you zone out everything that isn’t related to fighting?” Twilight questioned, leaning against the alley wall. “Items like clothing are placed into a subspace area of the Morphin’ Grid until your morph is canceled out. That includes your canteen.”
“I just wanted a drink...” Gilda rested against a wall, letting her helmet drop. “None of that stuff helps in a fight. Which means, it doesn’t really help me.”
Rolling her eyes, Twilight used her Connect Ring to pull out a canteen and tossed it to Gilda. “But it does help you know not to look for something that isn’t there.”
“I’ll leave it to eggheads like you to know that stuff for me, Princess,” Gilda said smirking before taking a long draught from the canteen. “Tch. Not much of a break. Looks like your stud’s here.”
"You wouldn't be so sarcastic if you saw him post-workout," Twilight shot back, running up to Wyatt as he touched down in front of the alley.
Wyatt threw his arms around Twilight, gathering her up in his arms. “I’m not a fan of this place. The people really kinda suck. How’s your outing been?”
"Your mare slammed my ex through a wall," Gilda stated, putting her helmet back on. "Not as cathartic as I'd hoped."
“Ignore her.” Twilight squeezed Wyatt, extracting herself from his grasp. “Shadow’s hideout is just around the corner. The scouts didn’t see any defenses, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Stay alert.”
“Alert is my middle name,” Wyatt assured, taking point. “I’ll go in first, I’ve got more options to counter whatever surprises Shadow might have waiting for us.”
Nothing stood out about this building. Its shape and size bland and purely utilitarian. If not for the detailed report from the changeling scout, it could be passed over as just another bunkhouse.
Staring out at the building from his spot at the alley's edge, Wyatt checked for any hint at defenses. His eyes were met with not but a simple building. Grabbing a rock, he sent it on a course for the front door. It hit with a solid thunk, clattering to the cobblestone street without ceremony.
Silence followed. A dreadful silence that Wyatt wished would perish in fury and hellfire. With no other sign forthcoming, he exited onto the street and advanced toward the barracks. Building a charge, Wyatt brandished both his swords. Before Wyatt was even twenty feet away from the door, something struck him on the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward.
“Far enough, light bulb.” Another object impacted his leg, knocking him flat. “We’re not taking house calls.”
Wyatt turned to the source of the voice. What he found was a griffon of average height and build clad in a white shirt with a gray pinstripe vest. On his legs were plain black trousers and a wide brimmed black hat obscured the view of his head feathers. The only thing out of place about the griffon were the massive gauntlets covering his talons. The gauntlets were polished gunmetal gray and had large chambers at the wrists.
“Why don’t you take your dame and get the tartarus out of my town, ya?”
“Don’t think I’m gonna do that,” Wyatt said, hopping to his feet. “The guy who gave you those gloves has been targeting me so I’m gonna have a little chat with him. Now, unless you wanna find out what a three on one fight feels like, maybe you should be the one to start stepping.”
Flexing his fingers, the griffon launched a pair of projectiles at Wyatt. One went past his head, colliding with a wall. The other crashed against his helmet, rocking Wyatt’s head back. A second impact on his shoulder sent him into a tumble.
Twilight fired off several shots at the griffon. Running out of the alley, she put herself between the griffon and Wyatt. “Did you really have to taunt him?” she asked, her irritation tempered by concern creeping into her voice.
“I didn’t expect him to do that...” Wyatt steadied himself, sizing up their opponent. “Can you at least tell us your name?”
“Gandred the Ricochet,” the lanky griffon answered, spinning the chambers on his gauntlets. “I think you can hazard a guess how I got that title.”
Gathering his energy, Wyatt conjured a bolt of lightning. Forcing Gandred from his perch, Wyatt followed him into the sky. Empowering his fist, he swung at Gandred’s head. Gandred tucked his wings in, falling out of Wyatt’s reach. Folding his wings, Wyatt dove after the griffon. Building up a charge, he fired a ball of electricity at Gandred.
Firing at the ground, Gandred’s projectiles bounced off the cobblestones. Raining upward, several found their mark. Wyatt’s wings groaned, sending him into a wall. Tucking into a roll, Gandred felt the electricity graze his tail.
Gritting his teeth, Wyatt pushed himself to his feet. Cards flashed through his mind, discarded one after another. Retrieving one, he traded in his Cassie form for Kiva and the Dogga form. With a quick flick of his wrist, his armor shifted into the crimson armor of the bat-like rider, the purple chest piece adding to his bulk and a hammer came into his grip.
“Fancy armor,” Gandred commented. “Can it do ya any better?”
“Why don’t you try taking a shot at me and find out?” Wyatt challenged, letting his hammer rest at his side.
Gandred fired several more times, never directly at Wyatt. Keeping his distance, Gandred stopped only to slam new cartridges into his gauntlets. Wyatt flinched, enduring multiple strikes. Stepping forward, he dragged the large hammer along the ground.
Tensing his muscles, Wyatt charged his opponent. Swinging the hammer upward, he drove Gandred back towards the building.
Twilight steeled herself, having gotten a good gauge on Gandred from Wyatt’s engagement. She ran out, ready to take to the skies only to stop when a shot rang out and something struck her in the foot. Looking down, there was a white substance cementing her to the ground.
Another shot rang out, colliding with her shoulder. Twilight’s body locked up, electricity surging through her body. Gilda tried to follow the shot, scanning the skies for the assailant. Pulling out her hammer, Gilda placed herself before Twilight.
“I ain’t playing games. Just show your face so I can smash it!” Gilda challenged, brandishing her weapon.
“All bluster with no skill to back it up,” A feminine voice taunted. A hen stepped into view on a nearby rooftop. She was tall, easily matching Gilda’s height. Blue tipped feathers poked out from a brown brimmed hat. On her shoulders was a brown mantle that hung down along her back and had white lines at her collarbone. Covering her chest was a crude hide vest and a light blue shirt beneath it. Cocked on her hip was a belt containing two empty holsters. “Classic Gilda.”
Rising up, Gilda swiped at the hen’s knee. “I didn’t throw in with a mad scientist, Brumhilda. Or did you give yourself a new name?”
“No, I liked my name fine enough.” Brumhilda replied, jumping back from the swipe. “All I did was add a title to it. Brumhilda the Six Shot,” she punctuated her statement by raising her arm and leveling a revolver at the center of Gilda’s helmet. With a smirk, she pulled the trigger, letting her arm follow the recoil.
Speed allowed Gilda to lower the shot to a graze. As the bullet scraped her helmet, fire flooded over her. Her panic lived for a glorious moment, killed the next by flaming talons. Wreathed in fire, Brumhilda’s claws raked across Gilda’s visor. Clicking her beak, Gilda tried to take a swing with her hammer, catching open air. Unable to correct herself, she felt the searing talons rake across her back.
“They didn’t give you any training, did they?” Brumhilda brought her leg up, her flaming paw crashing down on Gilda’s wing. Gilda squawked, her wing twitching pitifully. Her eyes narrowed to pinpricks beneath her helmet, the burning of the flames escaping her notice as she fought off shock setting in.
“Bit of a shame, really.” Brumhilda knelt by Gilda, clicking her tongue. “Green really doesn’t suit you.”
Brumhilda dropped low, allowing Twilight’s sword to sail over her head. Drawing her gun’s hammer back, she brought it to bare. A sickly green bullet impacted Twilight’s chest. Splattered in green, Twilight’s armor popped and sizzled.
“Maybe it’ll look better on you?”
Twilight hissed in pain, feeling the acid seeping through her armor. "I already have green in my wardrobe." Slipping the Hurricane ring on, she commanded the wind to surge. Gale force winds whipped around Twilight, catching under Brumhilda’s wings.
Forced into flight, Brumhilda fired the rest of her cylinder into the growing storm. Swept up in Twilight’s winds the wayward projectiles found their journey ending with the ground. Aiming into the cyclone, Twilight fired a retaliatory shot. Another followed, then two, then three. Focusing through her ring, the winds became her hands, guiding each projectile to its target.
Brumhilda fired wildly, emptying her second cylinder. Her last bullet sparked a surge, electricity arcing on her talons. Twilight’s shots curved around Brumhilda, none making it close to her body.
Twilight felt a growl of irritation trembling at her throat, draconic instincts clawing at her thoughts. She kept firing, giving Brumhilda no option but to dodge. A stray bullet, caught in the war of wind and lightning, wormed through Brumhilda’s shield.
A terrible screech emitted from the griffon's beak. Her concentration dropped, lowering her shield and leaving her to be swept up by the winds. “Y-you bitch!” Brumhilda roared, her hands pressed against her left eye.
Gilda pressed the advantage, flying above Brumhilda and swinging her hammer down on the other hen's back. "No worries Hildie, I hear guys dig eyepatches."
Flaring her wings, Brumhilda softened her impact. “Gandred! Stop fucking around with the mole rat. We’re gone.”
Gandred wheezed, Wyatt’s hammer cracking a rib. “Right... Outta here.” Firing at his paw, Gandred slipped from Wyatt’s space. A few shots were sent out towards Twilight and Gilda.
Wyatt debated chasing after them, but figured that'd be a diversion. "Something seems fishy," Wyatt commented, returning to his base form.
“Bitch just got her eye shot out. Think that’s good enough reason to scram.”
Wyatt gave her a flat look. “From their point of view we’re here to invade their home and take out the person who built it up from nothing. Them just running is odd.”
Gilda shrugged. “I’ve lived here. You don’t change a griffon's feathers that easily.”
Wyatt nodded, but said nothing. He turned towards the target building and continued to approach it. “Guess we’ll see what nasty surprises there are in store.”
As if to taunt him, the door to the barracks blew off its hinges in a violent explosion. Black smoke billowed out of the doorway, a figure stepped through the settling cloud. The pure white outfit and odd clear helmet marked them as their target.
“It seems my flock has fled the coop,” General Shadow lamented, eyeing a patch of Brumhilda’s blood. “No matter, they served their purpose.”
“Was that purpose to get their ass kicked and be generally annoying?” Wyatt taunted, pointing the tip of his sword at the man. “Because if so then you have some skewed priorities.”
Shadow laughed, brushing debris off his shoulder. “I merely needed time. Time which they gave me.”
“Time for what exactly?” Wyatt asked, quirking a brow beneath his helmet. “All I see is you.”
“You see, I caught onto Midnight’s little game.” Shadow smiled. A razor sharp, lethal expression. “Her ‘gift’ as it were is most fascinating. Shall we see just what it entails?”
“If I say no will you give up?” Wyatt offered, bracing himself for whatever Shadow was scheming.
Holding his arms out at his sides, a tremor ran through Shadow’s body. Erratic pulses worked along his limbs, his muscle mass expanding. Sickening cracks echoed along the plaza bones pushing out of skin and making it fall away. Wyatt and the others could only watch in horror as Shadow’s body twisted and morphed. When everything was said and done, his form was metal and skeleton, very little of what was once the man left. A tube carrying a strange blood-red liquid ran from one of the two blade-like appendages jutting from his back down to his left hand stained the digits. All that was recognizable was his face and helmet, untouched by the changes.
“I have become what you would call a ‘Greed,” Shadow elaborated, stepping closer to Wyatt. Trailing behind him, his long tail moved in tandem with his steps, a crescent moon-shaped blade capped the appendage. “It is an extraordinary experience.”
“Really? Because you look like Rito Revolto if he developed a meth addiction,” Wyatt answered, finally finding his voice. He almost wanted to thank Shadow for revealing what he’d become. It made it easier to select his cards. Slipping the cards into his belt, his armor changed into UniSaPo in a flash of light.
Shadow’s eyes shimmered, crimson suns against his pale skin. A rival light burned against Wyatt’s, entrapping the rider in the walls of a red energy pyramid.
Wyatt cursed, slamming his fist harmlessly against the wall of the pyramid.
“Fascinating.” Shadow circled the pyramid. “We’ll save you for last.” Turning away, he leapt towards Wyatt’s companion.
Wyatt kept punching at the pyramid holding him, making no headway. There wasn’t even a flicker on its surface that gave him hope that it was affected by his efforts. Taking a moment to breathe, he considered his options. Attacking the barrier clearly wasn’t the answer. Whether it was his hands, feet, sword or even the magic of UniSaPo, nothing seemed to affect his prison at all. Leaning against it, the barrier didn’t waver or bend.
Shadow stepped closer to Twilight, flexing his fingers. “Now then, shall we begin the trial?”
Twilight didn’t answer, gripping her gun tightly. With her winds swirling around her, she fired a hail of bullets, using her winds to increase their speeds.
Observing the bullets plinking off his body, Shadow hummed. “It would appear I’m immune to small arms fire.” Raising his right arm, Twilight’s bullets changed course, collecting in his palm. Flicking his wrist, he sent them back at her.
Summoning winds beneath her, Twilight sidestepped the wayward rounds. Switching out her Hurricane ring for the Flame Dragon, she tapped it to her Driver.
"Fine then, you have my attention," Twilight growled, the Flame Dragon armor solidifying.
Shadow whipped his tail, crouching low. “Excellent. Let us begin in earnest.” Propelling himself after her, fire erupted from his left hand.
Twilight made no move to avoid the attack, holding out her sword to intercept it. Using her magic, she gathered up the flames into a condensed orb. Rearing back, she used her blade like a bat to send the attack back at Shadow.
Crashing through the inferno, Shadow’s tail jabbed into Twilight's chest. Unable to pierce her armor, Shadow pivoted, flinging her into a building.
Swooping down, Gilda brought her hammer down on Shadow's head. A riotous clank rang out, Shadow’s helmet holding strong against the assault.
"Cute," Shadow said, chuckling as he grabbed Gilda by the wrist. With a quick flick, he slammed her against the ground.
“This... isn’t working.” Pushing herself up, Gilda cast her eyes at Twilight. “You got any good ideas?”
Pulling herself out of rubble, Twilight shook her head. "Nothing concrete. Wyatt had a good idea trying to counter the source of his power with harmony, but he's stuck in that pyramid."
Lowering into a crouch, Gilda focused her attention on Shadow. “Then we’ll break it.” Her legs tensed, paws digging into the ground. “Go!”
Pushing off, Gilda swung at his chest. A flap of her wing sent her above his retaliatory tail swipe. Dropping her hammer on the appendage, she produced her side arm. Squeezing the trigger, a thin beam of light lanced into Shadow’s helmet.
Twilight began to run, letting Gilda distract Shadow as she kept Wyatt's prison in her sights. Her mind raced, wondering how she could break the pyramid without harming its occupant.
Shield theorems and spell matrixes rushed through her thoughts. A shield's most common weakness was concentrated pressure on a singular point. Briefly lamenting her lack of a spear, Twilight settled on a kick.
Flipping her Driver so the hand was facing the other way, Twilight slipped on a new ring. Tapping it to her waist the belt called out, "Finale! Flame! Dragon!"
The belt made sure to harshly separate the syllables in dragon as a magic circle appeared beneath her feet. Jumping off the circle, flames taking the shape of a dragon sent her into the air. The flames settled around her leg, glowing white hot.
Wyatt grinned beneath his helmet, watching his girlfriend carefully. Inspiration hit him, grabbing a card from his case while tightening his grip on his sword. With a flick of his wrist, the card slotted into place.
Once he saw Twilight begin her descent, he pressed the handles inward. "Final Attack Ride: OOO's!"
His Medajalibur glowed, the sound of coins clanging against one another filling the pyramid." Swinging his arm, his slash landed the exact same moment Twilight's hoof made contact with the prison.
Shattering under the combined strain, Wyatt’s prison faded out of existence. Wyatt let the wings of his armor flare out before taking to the air.
"Hey Shadow! Your little trick could use some work!"
Gilda emitted a strangled squawk, desperately clawing at Shadow’s wrist. Heaving her into the ground, he stomped on her helmet. Forming a small crater, he left her unmorphed form at the bottom.
“It appears the locals aren’t quite as qualified as either of us thought.” Tail raised above him, Shadow laughed dryly. “Let us begin the real trials.”
Wyatt swooped down, turning to a pink blur as he utilized the power of the Pegasus medal. He stuck at Shadow, aiming for the artificial Greeed's throat. His momentum screeched to a halt, a red triangle taking the blow.
Wyatt kept swinging his sword, looking for an angle only for the red triangle to move and stop each of his blows. Using a wing, he covertly motioned for Twilight to get Gilda.
A quick application of the connect ring brought Gilda to Twilight’s arms. Her chest rose and fell at a steady pace, calming Twilight’s immediate fears. Another portal sent Gilda off to the Invincible’s infirmary.
Meanwhile, Shadow lashed out with his tail, Wyatt narrowly dodging by tilting his neck. Feinting with his sword, Wyatt slid a card into his belt.
"Attack Ride: Vine Trap!" Plants erupted beneath Shadow, racing up his body to strangle his limbs.
Shadow sheathed himself in fire. Creeping flames closed in on Wyatt, deepening to a bright blue.
Wyatt slotted in another card, feeling the heat of the approaching flames. "Attack Ride: Tornado!"
The wings of Wyatt's armor flapped, trapping the approaching flames in the whirling wind. Reversing, the flaming tornado barreled into Shadow, wreathing him in eerie blue light before disappearing into the conflagration.
Rubble shook, metal joining the whirlwind. Searing hot, the wayward material formed a wall. Propelled forward, it warped around Wyatt, encasing him in a burning white shell.
"Is there any power this guy doesn't have?" Wyatt grumbled, pivoting on a foot to kick at the rocky surface. "If he shoots rainbows from his fingers to create mini clones I'll rip my hair out."
“This is really not the time.” Twilight shifted to water, dousing the makeshift cage. Crouching low, she hoped to vanish into the billowing steam.
With the sudden cooling of the material, it was brittle enough for Wyatt's next kick to punch a hole in it. His damaged cage creaked, crunching inward on him. Cursing under his breath, Wyatt moved away from where the cage was enclosing in on him.
Shadow wielded Wyatt as a wrecking ball, crashing through stone and wood. The trapped rider bounced between sharp angles and jutting metal. Wyatt braced himself, doing his best to avoid letting his head bounce around too much. The last thing he needed was to nurse another concussion.
Growling, Twilight’s pupils sharpening into draconic slits. With a quick application of her Connect ring, she brought out the Drago Timer. Pulling the dial, the device rang out, “Set up!”
Charging forward, Twilight cleaved into the metal entrapping Wyatt. “Get out!” she commanded.
Wyatt did as he was told, taking to the sky to get out of Shadow’s and more importantly, the raging kirincorn’s reach. Hitting the thumb on the timer, A blue magic circle appeared at Shadow’s side and a copy of Twilight emerged. The key difference being the blue coat and the spade shape to her helmet and pauldrons.
Blue Twilight’s blade sliced the tubes on Shadow’s right arm in twine. Fuel spewed forth, coating everything in a brackish film. Shadow roared in pain, attempting to backhand Blue Twilight only to fling more black fluid along the street.
Red Twilight seized the moment, flames dancing along her horn before her sword went alight. She slashed at the injured arm, fire shooting up the cut tubes.
Swirling winds blunted the resulting explosion, conjured by a green armored Twilight.
Wyatt almost stopped fighting as he let out a chuckle at the sight of Shadow being juggled by the three versions of his girlfriend. Not content to just watch, he came racing down and slammed a foot into Shadow's head.
Shadow’s tail plowed into Wyatt’s chest, forcing him to the ground. The final Twilight caught him, firing at the greeed’s helmet.
"Thanks, Twi," Wyatt managed, his vision still spinning. "Really getting tired of being his punching bag."
Reaching into his case, he pulled out a card with the name Black in bold letters. Slipping it into his belt his armor shifted. The armor was mostly black, brown muscle fibers visible in the places where it separated. Red and yellow striped bands were around his collarbone, wrists and ankles accented his form. On the left side of his chest was a symbol resembling a stylized S turned on its side with a dot resting above the end that pointed up.
“I think it’s time to show Scrooge the true meaning of Christmas.” Leaping into action, Wyatt threw a punch at Shadow’s helmet.
A sheet of metal interceded, crumpling around Wyatt’s fist. Grunting, Wyatt tore away the metal around his fist with his free hand. He had to consider his options. Letting his eyes dart around the battlefield, he decided on a course of action. Signaling to Twilight with a hand behind his back, he pivoted on a heel in an attempt to kick Shadow in the chest.
"Final Time! Dragon Four-Mation!"
The Four Twilight’s started to move in unison, Red sprouting a dragon head from her chest, Blue with a long dragon tail at the base of her back, Green had draconic wings overtake her feathered ones and Yellow had large dragon claws on her hands. Blue and Yellow moved first, flanking Shadow with Blue leaving a trail of frost in her tail’s wake and heavy pressure emanating from Yellow’s claws. Green strafed from above, buffeting the Greeed with razor sharp winds. Red came forward, Wyatt needing to jump out of the way as a gout of flames burst forth from the dragon head coming from her armor.
Shadow dug his heels in, weathering the elemental maelstrom. A pyramid shield flickered around him, brunting the damage. His damaged arm hung limp, cell medals streaming from his body.
“Alpha Squad, fall in!” A distorted stallion’s voice called out, several G3’s filing into the square. “Fan out and lay covering fire! I see one of you rush in trying to play hero, your armor’s going to one of the bugs!”
Wyatt swore, rounding on the squad. “Get out of here!”
The leader that had shouted nodded, a hand signal halting anyone before they could put fingers to triggers. “Roger sir, we’ll move to the next objective. Keep him occupied and we’ll start locating civilians.”
His order was countered by a string of bullets. A G3 opened fire on a squadmate, followed by another.
“I-I can’t control it!” the original G3 screamed, turning her weapon on Wyatt.
Wyatt grabbed the panicking mare by the wrist, her gun clattering to the cobblestones. Stepping in towards her, he tossed her out of the square and out of what he hoped was Shadow’s influence.
“While there are no strings on me, the same can’t be said for them.” Shadow tsked, his fingers weaving through the air.
Falling under Shadow’s sway, the remaining G3’s engaged the pair of riders.
“Twi, focus on Shadow, I’ll handle these guys!” Wyatt promised, grabbing the gun from another G3 and kicking him into a wall. Bullets pelted him, a dull ache forming across his body.
“I’ve already used up the timer.” Twilight pushed Wyatt behind her, brandishing two swords. “I don’t have much left. You take him.”
Nodding, Wyatt leapt at Shadow towards his limp arm. Shadow responded with a strike from his tail. Working on intuition, Wyatt grabbed the appendage before it could find his throat.
“I think it’s about time we had you fixed.” Wrapping his arms around Shadow’s tail, Wyatt pulled, jamming a leg against Shadow’s side.
A roar of pain escaped Shadow, his smug smirk having long fallen away. With a bit of effort, he raised his good hand and a sheet of metal wrapped around Wyatt's wrists in an attempt to force him away from his tail.
“Getting tired? Pull too many all nighters?” Wyatt taunted, his heel digging into Shadow’s body. Pulling out a card from his case, he slipped it inside his belt. "Let me put this fight to bed."
"Attack Ride: Rider Chop!" Red energy flared around Wyatt's right hand, settling into an aura. In one fluid motion, his hand sliced into and through the appendage.
The severed portion dissolved into coins, slipping from Wyatt’s grip. Reeling backwards, Shadow sweeped Wyatt off his feet with the remainder.
Tucking and rolling, Wyatt managed to avoid a stomp from the Greeed's foot. Rising to a low stance, he sized up his opponent. Standing up, he slotted in his final card. There were no jokes, no witty remarks, only total concentration.
“Final Attack Ride: B-B-B-B-Black!” Red Energy encased Wyatt’s legs, glowing brightest at his feet. He leapt into the air, getting into the familiar pose as he streaked down like an arrow towards Shadow. The Greeed tried to swat the Rider out of the air with what remained of his tail. Wyatt’s fist plowed through in a spray of cell medals before finally reaching Shadow’s chest.
Shadow sputtered, his body undone. “It seems... your growth has outpaced my projections...” Laughing, he fell against Wyatt. “The great leader’s research has finally borne fruit.”
Wyatt quirked a brow at that last comment, before laying the former general onto the ground. “That’s what a year and a lot of motivation does.”
Smirking at Wyatt, Shadow reached out to touch Wyatt’s helmet. “You are a far superior specimen than her...” His body burst apart, leaving a pile of grey coins.
“What is it with villains playing the pronoun game when dying?” Wyatt grumbled, digging through the pile. If he was a betting Rider, then there were Core Medals in the heap.
“I softened him up for you.” Twilight put a hand on his back, eyes cast towards Shadow’s remains.
“For sure,” Wyatt agreed, giving her a thumb’s up. “Mind using the Connect ring on these? Pretty Sure Spike will appreciate these when he gets back. Plus, the Birth Driver chews through these like Pinkie does cupcakes.”
Twilight dismissed her armor, sliding her ring on. “I have enough left over for that. The G3’s are okay, if a bit frazzled.”
“People tend to not like having their autonomy stolen from them,” he offered, letting his own armor fade with a quick tug on his Driver. “I take it you got word that the griffon forces are subdued or surrendered?”
Nodding, Twilight suppressed a yawn. “Most of the city has been secured. Now we’re just doing clean up.”
“Head back to The Invincible, I can handle directing things from here,” he assured her, stretching his arms over his head. “I’ve still got gas in the tank. Plus, I can probably get Ninjor to share some footwork while I supervise the G3 squads.”
Embracing him, Twilight nuzzled his neck. “We really shouldn’t be here, Wyatt.”
“If there was any way to have done this peacefully, you know Celestia would’ve done it.” He let his arm rest over her shoulders. “I didn’t like playing raider any more than you did.”
“What are we even supposed to do now? Just... leave?” she asked, turning her eyes towards his.
“And deprive you a chance to make a checklist?” Wyatt joked, daring to give her a boop. “No way. We’re gonna organize and help the reconstruction of this place.”
“If they want us here.” Twilight scrunched her muzzle. “We’re not forcing them to do anything.”
“Way to state the obvious,” Wyatt teased, smirking. “I thought that was my job and the smart comments were your wheelhouse?”
With a snort, Twilight shoved him away. “I’m going to check on Gilda and get some rest. Try not to break anything else, okay?”
“I make no promises!” Wyatt called back with a wave as she took to the sky. “You know things tend to blow up when I’m around!”
A pair of figures entered a building. A long bar dominated one wall with one minotaur tending it. The place was mostly empty with a few people scattered around nursing drinks. Outside, desert winds buffeted against the walls in a steady rhythm. Taking seats at the bar, the pair motioned for the bartender.
“What can I get ya?” the minotaur asked, already holding an empty beer stein.
“A beer for me and a virgin screwdriver for him,” The taller figure said, pulling back the hood of his cloak to reveal a green earth pony stallion.
“Don’t get many ponies around here.” Placing the drinks on the table, the bartender grunted. “That’ll be ten copper.”
“We get that a lot,” Star Dust replied, taking a drink as he dropped the money into the minotaur’s waiting hand. “Does this place serve food too? We’re awful tired of field rations.”
“Kitchen’s open,” the minotaur assured. “Whatcha wantin’?”
“I’ll take anything you got with hay and vegetables,” Star Dust said, sipping at his beer.
“And I’ll take anything that has fish or meat in it,” Spike chimed in, pulling back his own hood.
Eyes shifting from father to son, the barkeep grunted. “We got one salad eater and a meat nibbler!”
Spike chuckled at the term, taking a big gulp of his own drink. “Meat nibbler, gonna have to share that one with Wyatt.”
“Could’ve called us worse,” Star pointed out. “Doubt they have much fish here though.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” Spike shrugged, glancing around the bar from the corners of his eyes.
No one seemed to care about his presence, something he’d come to appreciate about the more seedy places in his wandering. “Plus, pretty sure he didn’t mean salad eater as an insult. Minotaurs are mostly herbivores. They get their protein from animal products if there’s literally nothing else around.”
“But of course. What was I thinking?”
“Hey, you went on for twenty minutes about proper scale care last week,” Spike retorted, giving his father a playful shove. “Me hitting you with random factoids is turnabout.”
Star chortled. “It’s not my fault no one taught you proper hygiene. It’s a miracle they aren’t brittle!”
Rolling his eyes, Spike reached for his pack. “Hey barkeep, do you mind if I unroll a map onto the bartop?”
“You paid. Ain’t my responsibility if it gets wet.”
“Thanks.” Spike spread the map out, letting his father get a good look at it. “Okay, so where are we again?”
Regarding the map, Star tapped near the bottom. “We’re here, at the southernmost border of Equestria. Once we pass the oasis here, we’re back home.” Tsking, he moved his finger to another spot. “Shame we didn’t make a stop in Somnambula. I’ve always wanted to visit.”
“That would’ve added almost a week to the journey,” Spike reminded him, tracing the detour with his claw. “Something we both agreed wasn’t something we wanted. Even if exploring a pyramid sounds fun.”
“A week wouldn’t have been so bad,” Star protested. “I want as much time together as possible.”
“You act like we’re gonna stop spending time together once we get back,” Spike retorted with a grin. “Things’ll just get busier. Besides, I’m sure Twilight has left a huge mess for me to clean up.”
A sudden clank jolted both of them, greeted by the smirking minotaur. “Food’s ready,” he informed, placing a plate of fish before Spike.
The two thanked the barkeep, tucking into their food with gusto. An objective part of Spike knew the food wasn’t anything special, but after so many died of dried out rations, it might as well have been a fire ruby.
“Can’t a father wish to spend more one-on-one time with his son?” Star asked, a pout etched on his features.
A soft smile crossed Spike’s lips and he patted his father’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that at all. But I’ve got responsibilities to keep up with.”
Patting Spike’s hand, Star Dust smiled wistfully. “Yes, I suppose you do, don’t you? Far more than you should really.”
Nodding, Spike returned to his meal. He couldn’t disagree with his father, gathering Core Medals wasn’t exactly as glamorous as comics made epic journeys out to be. Not that it was all bad. Besides getting to be an actual superhero his travels had allowed him to do something he never thought possible, bond with his birth father. Of course, Night Light would always be his father. The stallion who raised him, taught him how to be brave... and look after a workaholic. They weren’t all that different, though he doubted Night Light could keep up with Star Dust’s occasional ramblings.
But maybe the same could be said for Star Dust if Night Light got into one of his moods talking about constellations and their stories. Picturing the two stallions boring each other managed to get a laugh out of the drake.
“What’s so funny?” Star Dust asked.
“Sorry, just pictured you and my other dad interacting.” Spike turned to flash the stallion a grin. “Something like mutually assured boredom.”
Clicking his tongue, Star scoffed. “How did I end up with such a hooligan for a son?”
“I’m my mother’s son,” Spike retorted. “She did tell off the Dragon Lord to his face after all.”
Dramatically clutching his chest, Star swooned. “Thou hast wounded me, mine son! Egads! A knife to mine heart ye have driven! Never shall I recover from this betrayal!”
His father’s ability to slip into archaic speech rivaled Luna’s. Probably even surpassing her. Of course it was easy, Spike reminded himself, it was his default way of speaking. It made him want to learn it himself. Star’s outburst gave him a glimpse into where his penchant for the dramatic came from. All this time he’d just assumed it was just Twilight’s freakouts rubbing off on him.
“You’ll be fine pops,” was Spike’s reply, plucking a tiny tomato from Star’s plate and popping it into his maw.
“Spoilsport.” Star put on a pout, pulling his plate further away from Spike.
“Protect your food better.” Spike grinned, taking a large bite of his fish.
Ignoring the comment, Star tapped at the map. “Back on topic, once we hit forest we change our heading from north to east. There’s a town where we’d be able to resupply.”
“Any place special?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Star answered, shrugging “Equestria changed a lot since the last time I was fully myself. The town’s called Suntouched Hollow.”
Spike chewed the last of his meal, tail swishing side to side. “Never heard of it.”
“Then it can be a surprise for both of us. Let’s just hope they have an inn this time.” Star shook his head, his features falling. “It always hurts having to make camp so close to civilization.”
Rolling up the map, Spike rose to his feet. “And let's hope you don’t insult the owner again.” Clapping Star on the back, he stepped out into the pleasant noon sun.
Star followed after him, bristling. “Excuse me, I still have no idea how I insulted the chap.”
In lieu of answering, Spike only gave his father a cheeky grin. The stallion playfully whacked his son behind the head before ruffling his spines as they continued their journey.
Applejack picked at the food in front of her, trying her best not to look miserable. She had no idea what a demi glaze was, but given the bitter smell wafting up from her plate, she didn’t want to find out. Glancing around the table, she almost went blind from the glint coming off all the jewelry in the room.
She looked like she belonged, in one of Rarity’s dresses. Her lessons in etiquette served her well, as much as she wished they didn’t. Sipping at her drink, she longed for a zap apple cider. Wine just wasn’t the same.
“So tell me Miss Applejack, where did you say you were from again?” A stallion asked.
Goldenrod was the name that came to her mind. He had dark golden fur with a tawny mane that had that short windswept feeling that was gaining traction among stallions. As much as she’d like to protest that a stallion shouldn’t fuss over his appearance so much, he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes..
“Ponyville,” she responded. “Sweet Apple Acres specifically.” Swirling her glass in her hand, she took a sip. “Obviously we deal in mostly growing apples, but we do dabble in various animal products. Our most lucrative contract is with the Rich family and their businesses but we do also have several smaller contracts as well.”
She knew the game; talk about the bits and even how to pretty up that her pride and joy was a family farm at the end of the day. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her cousin, Kiwi Grove nodding in approval.
The mare’s fur matched her namesake with a black mane done in a cascade of curls with bits of green mixed throughout. Unlike AJ, the mare was thin as a post, keeping with her stated occupation as a model with the most meat on her settling at her flared hips.
“Fascinating.” Goldenrod leaned on his elbow. “And what brings a business mare like yourself to Trottingham?”
“Family of course,” Applejack said, a genuine smile crossing her lips. “I recently had the thought to go across Equestria to connect with close and distant relations alike, learn the family history to better expand the business. Something like drawing inspiration from the past for a stronger future.” While it wasn’t technically a lie, the words still left a sour taste in her mouth.
Humming in thought, Goldenrod smiled. “A truly inspired idea, Miss Applejack. Have your travels yielded fruit yet?”
Applejack suppressed a groan, ears twitching at the titters of polite laughter.
“Of course, even if that fruit is as simple as the seed of familial connection,” Applejack answered, turning to Kiwi. “This little trip even taught me an appreciation for the work that goes into modeling. My cousin Kiwi here has opened my eyes to the staggering amount of makeup that goes into making fur look natural under studio lighting.”
“Beauty is pain, dear cousin,” Kiwi agreed. “Someone has to suffer so others can look fabulous.”
“And suffer you do, I’m pretty sure your foundation weighed more than you did during yesterday’s shoot,” Applejack joked, putting on a polite smile towards her cousin instead of the ear-splitting grin she wanted.
“Plan on staying long?” Goldenrod asked, straightening his posture.
“I’m afraid not, as much as I trust my older brother to run things in my absence, I need to return home soon,” she answered, sipping the last of her wine. “Princess Twilight is going to be calling a meeting of the Elements as well as certain Guardians staff and my attendance is mandatory.”
That got their attention. Damn her honesty. She could’ve just said she had a business meeting. Now, all eyes were on her. Still, this could be easy to diffuse. She didn’t know the exact nature of the meeting, though she had some healthy guesses. If asked further she could give a vague answer about general updates and the like.
“It’ll be good to get home,” she continued, “Been away too long.”
“It will be sad to see you go, Cousin,” Kiwi said, helping to redirect the conversation. “Keep in touch. I tend to travel for shoots, but I’ll be sure to send you letters and let you know who’ll be forwarding my mail. If I’m near Canterlot, I might be persuaded to do some advertising for Sweet Apple Acres. Consider a homemade dessert from Grandmother my fee.”
Applejack smiled. “It’s a fee we’re happy to pay, Kiwi.”
Kiwi refilled their glasses from a bottle of champagne so they could settle their deal with a toast. But when Applejack went for her sip, she was greeted by the taste of sparkling cider. Chancing a glance at her cousin, Kiwi gave her a knowing wink.
Sparkling wasn’t her favorite... but she wasn’t one to be ungrateful. Winking back, she savored the liquid as it passed over her tongue.
Wyatt sat in his and Twilight’s quarters on The Invincible. The satisfaction of beating Shadow had faded and in its place was an odd hollowness. The dying man’s odd statements dug at his thoughts like a mad dog. In particular, the statement about a certain “her”.
Peering down at the driver in his hands, he traced his hands around the center ring. Somber had engineered his displacement... Had he done it before? Send some poor soul to another Equestria? The image of Somber tearing the device from someone's corpse sickened him.
Letting his driver fade from his hand, he turned to the window. He could only see a fluffy white expanse of cloud, but he knew that Ponyville and by extension what he’d come to know as home were down there and he was getting closer to them once more.
