Striker sat in a circle, with all of his new friends. Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, Zecora, even the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle. They were all in Twilight's library's back room. The hallowed out tree made an excellent secret meeting place. Twilight had called the meeting, It was agreed that there was an air of mystery around Striker that everypony wanted cleared. He would not resist, he too believed they had a right to know. It was still early morning when everypony had arrived, Striker being the last.

“Alright, I assume we are all here so I can explain things.” He begun

“Kind of, we had some questions we would like answered is all.” Twilight replied.

“Yeah, I figured, but... umm I'd like to talk to ponies for a bit if you don't mind. It might take a bit, but it might answer some of the questions.”

Twilight and Striker looked to the rest of the ponies inside the library room, mostly everypony responded with a nod, or a “that sounds good” or something very close to that. After
Twilight's gaze returned to Striker, She gave a heavy affirmative nod.

“Alright... hello everypony-” Striker took a long and deep breath “- I know you all have questions. So I am going to tell you a story, which should answer them. If not I can answer everything you want to know.” He glanced quickly at everypony. He had to mentally prepare himself for this, he took a minute to compose his thoughts and go over the tale in his head. Everypony in the room sat anxiously waiting for him to begin.

“Well firstly you need a bit of background. Firstly, It starts with a mare. Radiant Sunset, my mother.” He pulled out his lockbox, which he immediately opened, and took a picture out. The old photo was a bit tattered, and dog-eared. The photo was of a beautiful mare, she had an elegant fire orange coat, with a scarlet mane with a very familiar streak, only it was a shade darker then Striker's. She also had Striker's burning sapphire eyes. Her cutie mark was a curved silver knife. He passed it around for everypony so see.

“She's absolutely gorgeous Striker...” Rarity said once her eyes set on the pictures.

“Wow, you look alot like 'er Striker.” Applejack told him.

“She comes from a long line of Seekers known as the Sunfall. Were have been Seeker's for generations, she wanted to change that. She had just finished a case, then met my father, Midnight Fire, a bat pony, I don't have a picture, just his old hat.” he continued

“You're part bat pony! That's awesome!” Rainbow voiced.

“You can't just tell by looking either, I would have never guessed.” Fluttershy explained.

“Yeah, I got most of my looks from my mother. Anyway, they got married, then had my brother Ghost Walk. We nev-”

“You have A BROTHER! Oh. My. Gosh!” Pinkie interrupted.

“Yeah, HAD a brother, we never got along, we hated each other, didn't bother mourning, pretty sure he woulda done the same.” he quickly replied.

“Oh.... ummm sorry.” Pinkie replied slightly embarrassed.

“Its nothing, don't worry about it. Moving on, a few years later, I was born. My mother, she originally wanted to keep her Seeker hood with her to the grave...” Striker spoke sadly.

“So if you're a Seeker, that means something stopped her plan, what happened?” Twilight asked, curiously.

“She died.”

“Oh...”

“Yeah...”

“How?” Applebloom asked, before getting a soft-ish hit on the back of her head by her big sister.

“I was born.” he replied, everypony was silent this time. The silence continued long enough for Striker to return to his story.

“I never knew my mother, and my brother blamed me my entire life for killing her. My father had learned about Seekers from her. But the death of the love of his life blinded him from smart decisions. He began to teach us how to be Seekers out of fear of losing us to. Me from birth, Ghost had experienced normal life before however, and didn't take to the Seeker life style well. For me, it's the only way I know how to live. Never stay in one place for long, don't make friends, keep in shape, and know how to stop monsters. Once I got older I began to dig around, find things about my mother, Wonder what normal ponies did. Where other colts played ball, I learned how to hunt with bows and arrows, the in and outs of various firearms, master weapons like spears, axes, and swords. There is a reason why we Sunfall are feared by both other Seekers and monster across the world. We are born and raised as fucking warriors. We live to die in combat, we are a family that has raised war against the monsters of the night for hundreds of years. Let me tell you right now, the things I saw, things I still see, their fucked! Yet I am so warped from it all, it really doesn't effect me anymore.” he gave a short pause, he could see the looks in their eyes, he didn't know what that look meant so he continued, he had never seen a look of sadness and fear like this, it had to much sympathy.

“So the story starts a log time ago back when I was about the crusader's age...

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Striker was just a colt, he sat in a sky wagon with his brother, a dark pink bat pony with a dark purple mane, his cutie mark a shield with a moon crescent on it. The wagon was being flown by their father, Midnight Fire. A jet black bat pony with a even blacker mane. His cutie mark was a burning candle. They were flying somewhere near Las Pegasus. In the Marejave desert, around them was nothing but miles of desert. Dead plants with dried Joshua trees were the only thing that wasn't cactus or coyote for miles. They had been flying for a long time. His brother slept, the sun had set a while ago, but Striker couldn't sleep. He quietly snuck closer to the front of the wagon.

“Dad...” his voice had no gruff, gravel, or rust.

“Strike?” he was unable to safely turn his head to look at this speed. His voice was very close to what Striker's would one day, only much more gruff and hard.

“Yeah...”

“What are ya doin' up, y'all know ya should be sleepin'.” Midnight's voice had a twang to it that was similar to the Apple's.

“Can't sleep.”

“... Tired?”

“No, wide awake.”

“Well just close yer eyes boy, we'll be settin' down soon enough.”

“Alright dad.” With that he made his way back to his spot in the wagon, laid down, and closed his eyes. He wasn't tired, didn't know why. He had felt this electricity in the air all day. There weren't even clouds out here. Unable to sleep he did what he always did when he couldn't sleep. He began to mental dismantle then reassemble his favorite guns in his mind. He had a hard time focusing though, the night wind was surprisingly cold from the heat he had to deal with earlier in the day. The wind buffeted him quite a lot at this altitude. He envied his brother's wings.

They went on flying in the night sky for a rough twenty or thirty minutes before he felt the wagon touch the ground then park. He immediately opened his eyes, getting up in the wagon. His father was hitching the wagon to a post, glancing over to Striker he spoke.

“Sleep at all?”

“No.”

“Wake yer brother.”

Striker didn't respond, he just turned and prodded his sleeping brother sleeping several times. It wasn't until the seventh poke did Ghost walk stir awake. Only to be immediately awoken by their father.

“The hell you doin' boy?!” He growled, Striker hopped out of the wagon.

“Huh?!” his brother sat up straight but was still dreary.

“Boy! Don't you make me say it again!”

“Sorry Pa! I umm, ugh, umm”

“Where's yer damn knife boy! Damn it! What if that was some wagon robber, and he had already blew my brains out! How the FUCK are you gunna help yer brother if you got a bullet in yer head to you damn idjit! DAMN IT, AGAIN GHOST!” Their father gave a heavy sigh before shaking his head back and forth in disappointment.

Ghost held back tears, hopping down from the wagon, he wouldn't dare shed a tear. Not after last time. Striker looked just as disappointed, to him, being woken up, and not having your knife ready was weak, foalish. However that look disappeared when Ghost bashed Striker in the back of the head with a hoof. Striker just cringed, he was used to it. And if it helped his brother feel better why not take the abuse? He also noticed a tinge of... metal? He couldn't quite put a hoof to the smell.

The two brothers followed their father, they had arrived at some kind of motel/dinner. The place was surrounded by desert on all sides. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. The building was somewhat large. Resembling a red barn, the place had a buzzing neon sign that wrote “The Red Barn” unsurprisingly. The dirt road crunched under their hooves as they trotted. Ghost stretched out his wings.

The place looked like a bar, with a few extra doors. Neon signs over each. Over the one the just enter was “EXIT” to their left was “ROOMS”, “TOILET” was to their right, and “BAR” was directly ahead from them.

“Gotta take a piss?” Midnight asked looking to his boys. They both replied with a nod.

“Alright, just hold it for a spell, gotta get us set up first.” he replied. Before trotting up to the bar. In this one room, their were about seven other ponies. The bartender, two pegasus truckers, three earth ponies armed with guns and wearing Las Pegasus Defense Force. And a seemingly random unicorn in trashy torn clothing.

“Ey Midnight, howed that Lurker go?” the bartender told him

“Good as ya would think, can ah get a room, my kids need to piss.”

“Sure thing, want me to get you the usual Midnight?”

“Yeah, thanks.” he placed a small bag of bits on the bar stand. The beige stallion behind the bar stand gave a smile before, slowly trotting down the hallway behind him, turning out of sight. Midnight turned back to his kids.

“Dad?” Ghost questioned

“Yea?”

“Why are we here?”

“I'm thirsty, and we should take a break, catch up on sleep.”

“Alright.” he replied the sleep still strong in his mind.

“Hey, umm do you guys smell tha-” Striker began before getting cut off

“Here are your room and bathroom keys” the owner interrupted as he turned the corner, tossing the keys softly to their father. He tilted his hat at the bartender in response and turned to the bathroom. Their hooves knocked on the concrete floor. The florescent lights buzzed loudly in the silence of ponies drowning their sorrows at a bar in the middle of nowhere. The sound of a key wrestling with tumblers filled the air as their father unlocked the restroom door. He pushed open the door when a foul stench filled the air. Three immediately went on edge. They knew this scent. This was not the scent of pony manure, it was the unmissable reek of death. The smell of dead rotting flesh. The opened to reveal a butchered corpse. It had been horrible mutilated. Somehow, the corpse had absolutely no skin. Nothing but raw grotesque dad meat. Blood stained every wall and even the ceiling.
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“Whoa Whoa Whoa now!” Applejack interrupted “This don't seem like a very... filly friendly story!” she told him, as she blocked Applebloom's ears. The filly herself had on a half-eyelided look on her face.

“It's not, but that is part of it, I can't take it out or else it doesn't have the same effect.” Striker answer,

Rarity was already doing a similar thing to Sweetie Belle. Who shared Applebloom's expression. “Well could you at least dial it down a bit.” Rarity asked.

“Fine, just... let them listen, anyway.

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Striker and his father burst into action. Kicking in every stall while Ghost looked about investigating the scene and checking the windows. Striker assumed that this was the source of the coppery metallic smell he now recognized.

“Boys, wha'da got?”

“The victim has had all of his skin removed, no way to identify the corpse as of now, judging by the splatter stains what ever did this was at the door's entrance when it happened.” Ghost explained gesturing to the bathroom door, which remained spotless.

“The victim has no skin, but also appears to be beaten horribly, cause of death looks like.... blunt trauma, the guy's brains look like mashed potatoes. So that would rule out skinrenders, voice walkers, and ghouls, looks like we got a Hiderunner.” Striker elaborated to his father.

“Good job”- he propped open the bathroom door, -” Lock the doors Tex, we got a Hiderunner!” he yelled.

It only took a few minutes, but everypony had been put in the largest booth the motel bar had available. Only Midnight and his kids sat by the bar, discussing the situation.

“Strike, Ghost, go out to the wagon and get some guns.” Midnight finished by tossing them keys, Which Ghost Walk greedily took out of the air.

“You sure dat's a good idea Midnight?”

“They can handle themselves.” he replied, not giving so much as a glance in their direction.

The two brothers made their way outside. They quickly and quietly trotted to the wagon, once there, Ghost Walk moved below to the bottom of the wagon. Fiddling with the lock and key for a bit, he unlocked something, and a tray fell, revealing a number of hidden firearms underneath the wagon. Ghost took his old bolt-action hunting rifle, their fathers six-chamber revolver. Then Striker took his sawed-off (the very same one he had on his person as he spoke)and both his father's lever-action rifle, and lever-action shotgun, slinging both on his back. He took another blow to the head, and felt the guns slip off, his brother took the guns then dropped the key in front of Striker. “Lock up.”

He heard his brother trot away before he began to fiddle with the lock, but he fumbled, tripping slightly slamming into the tray, knocking something loose. A lockbox with a key taped to it. Deciding to hide it from the brother who had just finished beating him, he took the box and slid it under his sawed-off's holster. It fit so that unless you took a good look at him, you would not notice the bulge. He hastefully finished locking up before closing the tray and running to his brother's side. They entered into a rather unexpected scene.

Their father was pummeling the shaggy tattered pony, bashing him in the face over and over again with his bare hooves.

“Don't you ever say that again you sonofabitch!” he roared, the Las Pegasus Defense Force, or LPDF, simply watched not wanting to get involved. The bartender just shook his head. He turned to them as the slowly approached.

“About damn time! Give me my levers damn it.” Midnight growled. He snatched the two weapons from Ghost when his son moved them to him. He checked their clips before snatching away the ammo boxes Striker offered him. Arming both his weapons, he spoke.

“Theirs been a murder. It could be anypony here, Tex how many are here.” he still spoke with a blade on his tongue.

“In here? I reckon seven of us when you came in makin us ten, n' five more in their motel room.” the bartender replied

“Ghost with me, were gunna check on the ponies in their rooms, Strike, stick with the Tex here. The rest of you, anypony who has gon' into that bathroom cold be the murderer, don't let anypony out of yer sights, and keep an eye for odd behavior.” With that he kicked Ghost, getting him to follow as he entered the door the neon sign labeled “ROOMS”

Striker looked at the booth full of ponies, then picked himself up to sit on the barstand, for a better view.

“Pour ya a drink lil' partner?” Tex asked as he pulled a large double barrel shotgun out from underneath the bar.

“Whiskey sour, room temperature, no ice.” Striker replied. The bartender gave him a dumbstruck look, before he let of a soft laugh.

“I swear kid, every time I see you, I see more and more of yer mother.” Tex gave a heavy sigh before returning to surveying the room.

Striker slid out the lockbox and opened it. Inside was an old book, a large .44 magnum, several shiny silver bullets, and an old picture of a mare he recognized, even though he had never seen her in person. His mother, and he really did look a lot like her. He quickly closed the box, returning it to it's hiding place. He kept the book out, assuming it would go unnoticed he looked at the thick cover. He noticed that it was covered in a outrageous number of names. Each was scratched in with what seemed like some kind off knife. Their were tons of names. Solar Flare. Morning Glory. Dawn Blaze. Dusk's End. Sunny Centurion. Only one name was different, Sunset Eve, it was crossed out. The names went on and on, crammed into every nook and cranny. He saw two adjacent names. Radiant Sunset, and just below that was the name Sun Strike. His name.

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Scootaloo held Striker's Seeker Journal, she looked for all the names he listed, she found each, including his. She looked to Striker and back to the book, feeling a sort of “unworthiness” she humbly set the book down.

Twilight gulped, she recalled Striker offering her that book, she was now much more happy that she denied it, she never knew of the journal's real worth.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“They're all fucking dead!” Ghost burst in, Striker just opened the journal, beginning to read some of the pages, each was detailed instructions on a number of monsters he had faced but even more were things he had never even heard of.

“Everypony in their rooms is fucking dead, no skin.” Midnight said as he walked in.

“Well... Fuck!” Tex cursed.

“So that means it's one of us. That's comforting.” Striker spoke sarcasticcly. Setting the book off to his side as to not arise suspicion from his father.

Everypony on the room was now sitting in the booth. They all sat in silence. The neon signs buzzed loudly. The light above them gave an occasional flicker. There was a long and paranoid silence. Nopony spoke. They all just eyed each other. Midnight kept a hoof on the table. He knew it had to be one of the LPDF. He wasn't surprised when the youngest LPDF began to talk.

“It was just... another case.” The young buck said with a powerful melancholy in his voice.

“Brace, shut your mouth.” The hard looking stallion boomed.

“Let 'em talk, say what ya gotta say boy.” Midnight replied calmly. Nopony wants to argue with the buck with the gun.

“We were... called in, a serial killer, took skin of ponies, sickest shit I had ever seen. Been fucking with my head for a long time, since we started following this... thing. Things were bad, we could never get a suspect, and we had a lot of clashing information.”

“It was... insane. Multiple accounts of ponies going missing, but also being confirmed that they were seen an hour or two later.” The third buck cut it.

“But shit got real fucked. We finally got a lead, a suspect. Well then the next body shows up and we bring him in to interrogate. He doesn't give us anything good, we let him go. Few hours later the lab comes up with an identity for or victim... The same guy, the prime suspect got butchered!” The young buck said, panicking with the later words.

“We were talking to a fucking dead pony! And now this shit!” The third pony nearly screamed.

“Calm down now, I'm going to try to get us out of this mess alive, but I can't if you are freaking your shit, SO GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.” Midnight roared with his hoof slamming the table.

Yet another silence. Striker slid out the journal, skimming through the log he read about the case's his family had solved. Then he found one about Hiderunners, he dove in. Not noticing whether his father had his eyes on the members of the LPDF or him. Ghost just sat there fighting fear, or at least fighting showing it. He didn't want his father to see him scared especially since Striker was virtually unaffected. Striker was generally used to this type of situation.

“Where... where did you get that?” Midnight spoke.

Nopony replied.

“I SAID WHERE DID YOU GET THAT.” Midnight screamed, thrashing the journal out of Striker's hooves sending it flying across the room. Striker was significantly less adjusted to this situation.

“Under the wagon...” Striker shot back quickly.

“THATS NOT YOURS WHY WOULD YOU TAKE IT!” Midnight yelled, having lost all composure.

“Its... Its got my name on it!” Striker spat out.

“WHAT?!... WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY!”

“I said my name is on it! Right under Moms!” Midnight nearly threw himself out of the booth galloping to the journal he looked it over, knowing exactly where to find his love's name, his eyes widened at his sight. He immediately ran back and grabbed Striker, throwing him down onto the floor hard enough to make Ghost Walk cringe.

“DID YOU WRIGHT THIS!”

“No! I just saw it! I swear. It was already their when I found it! Honest!”

Midnight just gaped at the name, unsure of how to react or respond. He just learned something that had completely blew his mind. Neither Striker or Ghost knew why he was reacting like this. They both knew that he got violent when their mother became a subject, but this was different. They were both frightened. Their father had always been.... fearless. He always had a plan, knew what to do, handle any monster, dodge or surpass every bump in the road. This was the first time either of them had seem him be completely shocked. Taking advantage, the gruff LPDF member stood up drawing his gun.

“Nopony move I'm in charge now, and nopony moves until I find out who's what!” He yelled

“You don't have to, I read it... in the book I was about to say it, Hiderunner's can't clean the blood underneath their severed hides or something, they smell like blood! We just smell each other and find out who smells like what!”

Midnight wanted to interrupt, wanted to tell his son to stop... but he was to slow. The second the words left his sons lip's, the gruff pony began to twitch. Something was festering underneath his skin. Pushing up from beneath the surface. He was the Hiderunner all along. The body in the restroom belonged to him.

The Hiderunner was a hideous beast. The stallions mouth opened, but instead of revealing a mouth, a skinless twisted and beaten face with the eyes of a serpent pushed out. The stallion's hide tore open, revealing something impossible big underneath the surface. The flesh of the creature was wet, and slimy like a fish or reptile, yet there was no skin. Just the rotting hides of at least a dozen ponies stitched crudely on. Several patches of skinless flesh still dripped. Too many legs began to uncurl as the creature finished unraveling itself. It stood easily three times the size of the largest pony in the room. It let out a loud hiss.

A hoof/claw slithered out grabbing both the third buck, and Tex, they screamed as it drew them in. The remaining members of the LPDF were simply stunned, petrified by the horror before their eyes Midnight grabbed his kids, and threw them and himself over the bar. None of them saw what the Hiderunner did. But they all heard it. The screaming just didn't stop. First came the crunch. Then the snap and pop. After what felt like hours, the screaming stopped, replaced by the sound of meat being ripped apart. Followed by a single gun shot.

“Don't look.” was all that midnight said, before he took a rag and a bottle of whiskey to make a Molotov cocktail.

The LPDF were no match for the creature, they simple did not know how to react. They didn't last long. Striker peaked over, the blood was everywhere, he wanted to vomit. Time seemed to slow down as he took in the two disemboweled ponies. The several clumps of meat that used to be law enforcers, and the ripped apart and torn corpses of the bartender and LPDF member. The flaming cocktail seemed to fly in slow motion. The trail and light of the fire staying just a bit longer. He lifted his sawed-off, aimed, and fired once, adjusted and fired again. He didn't want anypony who had to see that also have to get burned alive.

He felt a hoof push him down, and met the eyes of his father. Striker continued to gaze at his father, who stood up brandishing his rifle. Striker herd the explosion of fire. Along with the in-equine cry of agony. He looked up at his father, who slide the lever back and forth firing rapidly. He looked to his brother who sat there curled up in to a ball. He slid of his brothers hunting rifle, and stood up facing the flaming abomination as it motioned toward them. He stood by his father and fired, reloaded, and fired again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Striker and his father unloaded their weapons again, time after time. The Hiderunner continued lumbering at them, moving slower and slower with each “step”.

When the monster hit the ground, he felt a hoof grab him, and saw the other grab his brother. I seconds they were both pulled by their father out of the bar. The fought to catch their breath. The building went up in flames. Seconds later, they were loading up into the wagon. Before a minute had passed they were in the air, and the barn was just a light behind them. He saw his brother throw his head over the edge of the wagon and vomit.

He could not escape the strange feeling in his chest. He simply sat there, really not disturbed by the nights events, while his brother wiped vomit from his mouth. He was younger, but rather then fear the monster, he faced it, and shot it... a lot. For the first time, he realized just how.... strange he was, how far gone he was. Even at this young age, he was so... jaded that the brutal murder of nearly seven ponies really didn't effect that badly. That when he sees a twisted abomination ripping and smashing ponies, the first thing he does is shoot it's prey. Without a thinking, he just acted. For the first time he thought to himself... what the fuck is wrong with me?

After they had been flying for a while, their father slowed down enough for conversation.

“You too good?” Midnight asked.

“No, I feel like shit, that thing is burned in my eyes, I see it every time I blink.” Ghost nearly screamed.

“I'm fine... still gotta piss I guess.” Striker replied. Their father swung himself back, tossing a bottle of pills into the wagon.

“Sleeping pills. Take one Ghost, you need it. Strike just wait up.” Midnight's voice was calm and collected. Striker knew that tone. He dreaded what was coming next.

Their flying went slow for a while, Ghost passed out rather quickly from the pill. A little after he did, Midnight landed in the middle of the Marejave. Unhitched he grabbed Striker and took him a bit away.

“Strike, we need to talk.” was all he told his son.

They cleaned up enough of the area to take a seat, Midnight sat his son down, then sat across from him. Striker was confused, usually when he used “that” tone it meant yelling and hitting. Yet this time, there was only silence. Striker looked at his father, who once again seemed to not know what to do, deeply discomforting Striker.

“Umm Dad... what's wrong, you normally don't... do this.”

“Whad'ya mean?”

“You usually hit or yell at me when I do something bad.”

“You didn't do anything wrong Strike, you held up much better then Ghost actually... I'm... proud.” Midnight forced out the words, as if he wasn't sure if he said them correctly. He seemed to be looking around, avoiding direct eye contact.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

“Nothing...It's just that... well you are your mother's son.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“It means you are a lot like your mother... I can see her in you. Not just the eyes, I mean in... everything. How act, how you fight monsters, even how you walk and talk, just the way you carry yourself... it's goddess-damned insane how much you look and act like her...”

“Is that why your mad at me?”

“I'm not mad Strike... Listen.... “- Midnight slid the book out his hat. -” this belonged to your mother, and her mother before her, then I think her grandfather. It's a relic, it's got a mighty lot of smart stuff in there. It's yours now, so be careful with it, it's old.”

“I will I promise.”

“Yer mother wanted you to have it, along with some other stuff I'll give it it to ya when we go by Fillydelphia.”

“Sure thing dad.”

“Hey... you may want to look at yer flank...” with that Midnight got up and left to wagon.

“Striker looked at his flank, and gave a grin at the emblem. A beam of light shooting down, scorching the ground and giving a slight burst of flame where it touched. He figured it worked, being that his special talent was finding and smiting monster. It was something he had always done. But today was the first day he questioned it. Honestly he was a bit concerned what this would mean for him. Yet he was glad to have grown up a bit this night.

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The girls all looked a bit... beaten. That was a rather, odd story. They were not expecting that to be a “How I got my cutie mark” story. But they all realized the same thing. Striker lived a very, very fucked up life. They knew he was rather... tough when it came to gore and bad situations, he had always been pretty calm. But to be so... well adjusted at that age.... Fluttershy got up and gave Striker a hug. The Crusaders all realized that when he said he was used to being scared, that he really meant it, and that he had been like that for nearly his entire life.

The Crusaders all felt a very powerful empathy for Striker, each girl got up and gave him a hug. Sweetie bell was crying, Applebloom and Scootaloo tried not to. Scootaloo saw him in a whole new way, she wasn't sure how she felt, but she knew she respected him.

Zecora felt a pang in her chest, she knew that Seekers had a rough time speaking about their lives. Yet she also felt a bit uneasy. She had been the only one beside Scootaloo, who held the journal, to catch right away that he had been lying about his name. He was Sun Strike, not Striker. Granted the difference was subtle, but it was still a lie, what else could he be lying about?

Striker felt... at ease. It was hard to explain for him, but he felt relived. Like he had been holding on to something heavy for a long time and finally let go. He reminisced about his father and brother, not sure if he would see them again given the chance.

“Wait wait wait, Your name is Sun Strike!?” Rainbow stated in shock.

“Yup, sorry about lying, just that.... well remember that name I mentioned? The one that was crossed out? Sunset Eve? Not to get into it, but he got into A LOT of trouble, and now the Sunfall bloodline are kinda.... wanted. I am technically wanted. You see we Seekers have to do things sometimes that appear to the public as.... in-equine. For example we may have to dig up a grave to burn a pony's bones in order to lay their ghost to rest. Well a lot of that kinda stuff that we do is illegal. The Sunfall is the scapegoat, they blame us for everything. I'm wanted for saving the lives of ponies everywhere. So -” looking at Twilight ”- Celestia cannot know about me or any of the things and happenings going on in town... or I will more then likely be executed.”

Twilight grimaced. “I'm sure that if we were to reas-”

“No, you think in the past two thousand years none of us have tried explaining to her what it is we do? She knows, she doesn't care, she wants us, namely me being the last of the bloodline, dead. She cannot know that I am here.” Sun Strike interrupted

Twilight looked to her friends, a nod from each made her decision. “Alright Striker-er um Sun Strike your secret is safe with me and my friends. We... we all agree that you deserve it.” Twilight began with a grin.

“You have personally save all of our lives, like twice!” Rainbow beamed with a hug.

“You fight for ponies you do not know solely because it is the right thing to do.” Fluttershy grinned, returning for a second long hug.

“You are willin' to die to save others, includin' mah sister. Yer a damn good fella.” Applejack grinned, coming into the hug.

“Umm your really cool! Umm Group HUG!” Pinkie shot out a smile and joined in the hug.

“You've been through so much... but you don't let it bring you down, you just keep marching through everything life throws at you.” Rarity spoke before joining the hug.

“We all just wanna see you again at the end of all this crazy.” Twilight said slowly as she stepped into the hug.

Striker wanted to push them away, but instead he just took it in... he was so happy to be here now. Not because he was in the middle of a group mares hugging him, but because one way or another he knew he was with “family” even if nopony said it, nopony had to. They all knew, and welcomed Striker or Sun Strike into their lives. While it did mean things got darker, it also meant that he was their. And everypony in that room agreed that he was well worth it.

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“Sunshine Smile, Sun Strike, Strike, Striker. How many names kid?” a robed figure bound by chains and ropes. His voice was smooth, charismatic, he sounded like he could sell just about anything.

“Who the hell are you?!” Sun Strike shouted back. Noticing that all of his surroundings had turned black, he was surrounded by shadows and darkness, the only thing he could see was the mysterious Stallion.

“That doesn't matter boy. What matters is that you and I have a little chat.”

“What the hell is this, what have you done!”

“Calm down, I'm not like those “friends” of yours. I only have good things to offer you.”

“What are you talking about, explain yourself!”

“C'mon boy, you are a Seeker! You know better then this!”

“Start explaining damn it!”

“... Kid.... I want to help you, now are you going to listen to me or not, being here isn't exactly easy.”

Sun Strike responded with a calm nod.

“Good, now then. Sun Strike... I'm a smart pony, I may be trapped, but I know a lot. I know all about you, and your bloodline. I know everything there is to know about you and every single one of your friends.”

“That's impossible.”

“Impossible as in you lying? You did that quite a bit in that story of yours, you left out a good number of your father's beating, and all the parts where your brother beat you after. Oh and you forgot all the gory bits of details you saw when you looked over that bar. Not very nice of you to lie to your “friends” But that's ok. They aren't as good as they seem you know.”

“How do you know all that.... that's... not possible you weren't there.” Sun Strike gaped

“You don't have to be somewhere to know something. You know how to fix and make a good number of firearms, yet you weren't their when the the first gun was made.”

“....Who are you.”

“Like I said, that's not important. What is important is that you wake up boy. Time to wake up and remember that you are a Seeker. Do you honestly think those mares care about you? You know better then that! What happened to the Sun Strike? Or Striker, Blitz, Blaze. Whatever it is you call yourself now.”

“Why would they lie? Their my friends.”

“Friends? You are a Seeker kid, you don't have friends. You know that. To them your protection. You are means to an end. You are a tool. It may start simple. Oh Sun Strike could you watch my pet turtle? Oh would you mind taking out the trash. Help me with this yard work. Help me make this pony disappear.”

“They aren't that kind of ponies. What's your game? Why are you trying to turn me against them.”

“I'm doing no such thing! I'm trying to help you! Realize that they have leverage! They got you by the balls! You don't do what they say, all it takes is one letter to Celestia and BOOM your fucking dead. They know that, you are at their beck and call! Step out of line and you are dead, become inconvenient, and you are dead. This whole time you thought they were opening up to you? I is the opposite you fool! Those girls are gunna make you their little BITCH!”

Striker was silent. Then after a moment. “You're full of shit.”

“Maybe I am, just remember my words kid. Soon enough they're gunna turn on you. Soon I'm getting out, and you're the first one I want to see kid. I can help you, I can get you places you never even dreamed of, take you to the top kid. You and me, on top of the world.”

“Who the hell are you.”

“I'm not gunna lie to ya kid. You and and me are a lot alike, get blamed for a lot of shit we really involved with.”

“Who are you!”

“I am who I am”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU.”

“WHY DONT YOU ASK YOURSELF THE SAME QUESTION FIRST BOY!”

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Striker was thrown back into his the realm of the awake. He was serving himself a glass of milk to go with the cookies Pinkie Pie had brought. Then as if he had been gone a long time and forgotten, he remembered he was enjoying the company of his friends on a much less dramatic note. Just as he remembered he had been before he met, who ever that was in that dreamscape. Perhaps it was simply somepony in jail, a Seeker of some kind. But how would a Seeker know so much about him. Something was up, more pieces to the growing puzzle that was his life. Not just that, but he was reminded of the why he doesn't trust ponies. Although he refused to believe he was being used in some ponies game, that thought had crossed his mind before, and he was in a position in which he could do little to escape the wraith of Celestia if anypony in the room decided to reveal his identity to her. He wasn't in a good position, he didn't hold enough cards to feel comfortable. And all the other ponies seemed to have a stacked deck. Then there was the Zebra. He would have to decide very soon if he could fully trust Zecora.

“Sun...Sun Strike, you've been standing there for like, five whole minutes. Are you alright?” Scootaloo asked with a small nudge, knocking Sun Strike out his thoughts and back to reality.

“Huh, oh yeah sorry, just zoned out for a bit there. Umm milk?” He replied to the filly.

The morning passed quickly, but all things must end. And it was Applejack and Applebloom who were the first began to leave.Only to open the door to immediately slam it closed.

“Umm, folks, we have a.... problem outside.”

Author's Notes:

This one took a while to get right.