After the Korean War wrapped up, it became mandatory that all men serve a stint in the military, with the option of making a career out of it if they so choose to. Yon-Soo himself had done it right after graduating from high school, and only did the absolute minimum to get it out of the way as soon as possible. He hated every minute of it, even though it was in the name of servicing his country. Unlike some of the friends he made there, he had no intention of making a full-time career out of it.

After he left, he used the money he saved up to put himself through acting and singing lessons at schools in Korea and Hollywood. It paid off well, as he got himself several modeling gigs for world famous designer brands, and side roles in movies and TV shows, before getting his big break on the soap opera “The Baker’s Dilemma” and hitting it pretty big with his hit single “Good Girls, Bad Girls.”

He lived a nice, comfortable life of getting more money than he could spend in a hundred lifetimes, female fans throwing themselves at his feet, and even some international recognition.

Looking back on it now, Yon-Soo realized how selfish he had been.

Sure, he gave away droves of his money away to charities, became a spokesperson for humanitarian organizations, and whatnot, but he never really had gotten his hands dirty, never really became actively involved with anything serious in his life.

At least until the war against Equestria was declared.

Yon-Soo, Porter, Hyong-Jin, along several refugees and military members were riding in the cramped bus on the bumpy road down to Seoul. Between listening to the chatter and a few fussy small children on board, it was far from pleasant. But Yon-Soo held his tongue, determined to make it through this unpleasant bus ride. If he was able to survive four days in the wilderness and remain undetected by enemy agents, he could survive this.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be arriving in Seoul in less than ten minutes. I suggest you pack your supplies and get ready to get off,” the driver said to them.

“Thank God,” Porter whispered. “Those little kids were starting to drive me nuts.”

“You and me both,” Yon-Soo admitted as he picked up his backpack. As they looked out the windows, they could see the outlines of their destination not too far off in the horizon.

Seoul. Capital city of South Korea, center of the country’s economy and politics, home to more than 25 million people and second largest city in the world. Initially torn apart and horribly impoverished following years of subjugation by Japanese colonialism and the Korean civil war, the leaders of Seoul focused on rebuilding and modernizing the city. It succeeded and Seoul stood as a proud testament to the fighting spirit and hard-working mentality of Koreans. It was the ultimate 21st century city, on the cutting edge of innovation and technology, but it also kept many traditions alive, as buildings built from Korea’s medieval past were still standing proudly amongst the skyscrapers.

The bus stopped in front of the gate of the Yongsan Garrison. Everyone left the bus and as soon as their belongings were accounted for, the bus departed, possibly to refuel and then make another run back to the DMZ patrol base.

Hyong-Jin looked mystified at his new surroundings. He looked like a little kid in a candy store.

“Wow, I’ve never seen a city like this before! Pyongyang has nothing on this place! These buildings are so tall, and everything looks so lit up and amazing! How come we never got a city like this in the North? It’s not fair!”

Porter replied, “Well, we can discuss that later. And don’t act like a total tourist, Hyong-Jin. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Hey!” Yon-Soo interjected, “Let him have some fun! Everyone gets a little crazy when they see Seoul for the first time! Didn’t you?”

Porter shrugged and admitted, “I guess you’re right. I was born and raised in a pretty small town in Ohio, so seeing Seoul for the first time at night was pretty overwhelming to me.”

“What do we do now?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Well,” Porter said, “we should register ourselves, and let the big guys on top know who we are and what we want to do.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“Simple – kick the Sun Tyrant’s ass.”

Yon-Soo added in, “Well, before we do any of that, I would like to contact my parents and see how they’ve been. I know they would be worried about me, so I should let them know I’m still alive.”

“That is a good idea,” Porter agreed. “Got my own family too, and they must be worried sick. Plus we should get some information too. See if the PER is active here as well, and get a count of how many people were ponified.”

The three men nodded, making their way to the army base. The atmosphere here was pretty much the same as the DMZ patrol base. Everyone was on high alert and running around trying to get the most up to date information. Soldiers and guards were posted outside, vigilantly keeping watch over the skies to make sure no pegasus ponies were out to drop potion bombs on everyone.

Even the civilians were very tense. There was constant chatter about rumors, possible defenses against the potion, and how to help out in the war effort. Fear and anxiety had taken over.

As the men found a phone station, Porter and Yon-Soo quickly took the first empty ones.

Yon-Soo felt a bit nervous calling his parents. It wasn’t that they had a bad relationship with each other, but his father, a civil engineer, had never really approved of his son’s career choice, until he proved he was serious about it and succeeded at it. His mother had been far more supportive from the start. He pushed his anxiety aside and dialed.

After several seconds of waiting, he got an answer.

“Hello? Who is this?” his father’s voice said on the other line.

“Hi, Father, it’s me, Yon-Soo.”

“Yon-Soo?! You’re alive?! Is it really you?” Yon-Soo could recognize that was his mother’s voice. She sounded like she had been crying for hours if not days and was so relieved to find out her only son was still here.

“Yes, Mother, I am alive and well. I survived my encounter with the PER and made it back to Seoul in one piece. I’ve had quite an adventure.”

“Oh, I’m just so glad you haven’t been ponified! The Heavenly Father only knows how horrible that would’ve been!”

“Yeah, I know.”

Yon-Soo’s father got back on the phone and said, “Yon-Soo, please come home. Everyone – us, Aunt Eun-Ji, Uncle Dae-Su and , your grandparents and cousins, they’ve all been worried sick ever since finding out you were sent out on that mission.”

Yon-Soo wasn’t surprised. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. He sighed and replied, “I know Father, I know. But what else are we supposed to do? The Equestrians want to destroy us all. After everything I’ve seen, I can’t just sit and do nothing.”

“And put yourself at risk again?!” his mother asked, sobbing. “We’ve seen those people, those PER people, and they’ve been all over the news! We’ve had to lock our windows and doors, and sleep with the lights on! We’ve been looking at getting out of this place! We’re scared for our lives, and for yours!”

“I know, Mother. And that’s why I’m staying with the military. I’m doing this to protect you and the rest of our family! I want to make those ponies and the PER pay for what they’re doing to everyone! I’m sorry but I can’t sit and do nothing when they’re still around.”
As his mother continued to cry, Yon-Soo’s father angrily said, “Yon-Soo, please, listen to reason! All we have to do is get on a plane and get to America. I don’t like the idea of leaving Seoul any more than you do, but we’ll be safer there.”

“No,” Yon-Soo said firmly. “America is also dealing with the PER as well, and have been having as much trouble. I’m sorry, Father, I really am, but I can’t leave. I choose to stay and help. Those Equestrians aren’t ever going to stop. You can’t reason with them and they and their queen will do whatever it takes until we’re all assimilated. I’m not going to go down without a fight, and I don’t think you’d want that either.”

A long and tense silence took hold, and finally Yon-Soo’s father said, “Alright, Yon-Soo. I understand. We have come from a lineage of warriors from the time of the Three Kingdoms, and up until today, hardly anyone has lived up to it. I don’t like it at all, but I know you’re strong. Just know that we’re all praying for you.”

“Thanks Father. Please, do the same. Protect yourselves in any way that you can.”

“We will. We love you Yon-Soo.”

“I love you too.”

As Yon-Soo hung up, he felt a bit better now, knowing his father was letting him do this. He decided to check on Porter, who seemed to have had a similar conversation with his own family.

“So how did your folks take it?” Porter asked him.

“Well, they were worried, but understanding. What about yours?”

Porter said, “Same. My parents and brother have been really paranoid ever since the PER and the Newfoals started attacking people. They’ve had to buy their own guns and have even joined some resistance group called the Human Liberation Front. I’m kinda worried though; from what I hear, the HLF are also pretty crazy themselves. But they’ll keep themselves safe. I know they will be.”

“That’s actually a good idea though,” said Yon-Soo. “People should learn to defend themselves right? Why doesn’t the military teach the regular civilians how to defend themselves?”

“I think they’re already starting to,” Porter said, pointing to a stack of flyers. It was flashy, with a stylized picture of the barrier and Queen Celestia looking down at a crowd of scared people running away as potion bottles came down at them. Written in both English and Korean, it said, “Don’t Let The Equestrians Win! Learn How To Defend Yourselves!”

As they left the phone room, they saw something that got them racing. A crowd of soldiers were circled around Hyong-Jin, jeering at him.

“What are you doing here, Northie? You a spy?” one of them asked derisively.

Hyong-Jin didn’t say anything back; he obviously didn’t speak any English and couldn’t defend himself.

“Hey!” Porter yelled angrily, walking up to the soldiers. “Do you have a problem with my friend?”

“Seriously though,” another soldier said, “Why is he being allowed here? You know what the North has done to its prisoners.”

Porter replied, “And to its own citizens I might add. I’ve known this man for a lot longer than any of you, and I know he’s like any other person here who just wants to help us fight against the enemy. Just because he’s a northerner, that doesn’t mean he’s not a human like the rest of us. So leave him alone.”

Porter was intimidating enough to get them to back off and they left, whispering amongst themselves.

“What were they saying?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Nothing, Hyong-Jin,” Porter said to him. “They just won’t let things go, even when it doesn’t matter right now. You shouldn’t let them get to you. You’re better than that. Come on, let’s get going. We should start your and Yon-Soo’s training.”

Both Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin gulped. They were both certain it would be brutal.

“You want to do what exactly?” the main general at the base asked. He was an old guy, but not elderly. His light brown hair was patchy somewhat and covered mostly by his brown beret, and his uniform was decorated with several ribbons and medallions. He was definitely a seasoned guy, Porter could tell. The man’s face was marred with several frown lines and his blue eyes were hard and icy like cold steel. He was not one for nonsense, so Porter articulated himself.

“Well, sir, I have survived the mission in the DMZ, and I brought back two people with me. One is from here in South Korea, and the other came from the North. They were both sent out on escort missions to help evacuate certain people across the border, but the PER showed up and everything went straight to hell. I saved Yon-Soo, the South Korean, and he and I encountered Hyong-Jin, the North Korean, together. They’re the only surviving members of their squadrons and they both have asked me personally to help them hone their skills. I only ask that we get to use the training facilities here. We’ve been good at hiding ourselves; I’ve had experience in special ops missions helping to arrest international criminals using CQB, and I can see their potential.”

The general looked at Porter before getting up and looking out at the window. Outside, the city skyline was visible. The general sighed and said, “What was your name again – oh right. Well Lt. Stanley, you know why I stayed in the military after all the shit I’d seen?”

He continued, “It’s because I realized there are very few people out there willing to risk it all so that everyone else out there, those that are unable to fend for themselves, can get on with their safe, happy and normal lives. That was just the way it was. But now, this new war has changed everything. Everyone, man, woman and child, will have to take arms against this new threat.

“I also saw what that potion can do to a person. He was an old friend of mine, and he took it so he wouldn’t die from pancreatic cancer. When I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t see anything. His eyes looked like they were made of glass. That smile he wore wasn’t genuine or true happiness. The man that he was before was washed away and replaced by this alien that had his memories and nothing else. He became a perpetually smiling zombie, shaped like a bright green miniature horse, and regarding the man he once was with complete disgust. I had never seen anything more unsettling than a newfoal.”

“I’m sorry sir; just what are you getting at exactly?” Porter asked him.

The general replied, “Humanity is under attack, and we have to all stand together. Everyone has to be able to contribute to this fight. Those two boys you’re taking under your wing are only the beginning. We have to start helping the rest of Korea and the family members of anyone stationed here know how to fend for themselves. So yes, Lieutenant, I grant you permission to use the training grounds on those two boys and help them hone their skills. You will be kept under close watch, and if you are able to turn them into bona fide soldiers within three months, your techniques will be implemented in our civilian defense program.”

Porter stared at the general, slack jawed at this, but he quickly collected himself. “Yes, sir! Thank you so much! I won’t let you down!”

“Alright, Lieutenant. Now go out and help us in defeating this threat.”

The news was on the base cafeteria’s TV almost all day long. It was important to keep up on current events nowadays, especially on what was going on all over the world as of this time. This was their window to the rest of the world outside of Korea.

It had been about a week since Queen Elizabeth’s death. Her defiance and dying words became something of a symbol for soldiers everywhere, inspirational in fact. It was becoming known as the “Balmoral Address”.

Yon-Soo, Porter and Hyong-Jin, along with the other soldiers, watched the newest report to come out of England. Crews were cleaning the damage and charred remains of Balmoral Castle. There were even a few ponies, natural born ponies, of course. Of note was Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings, who gave a helping hoof. She worked manually, not once using her magic.

Hyong-Jin maliciously spat, “Why would there be ponies helping them? They hate all humans right? Why haven’t they been locked up and have the key thrown away?”

Yon-Soo cringed at that, and immediately replied, “Hey, look, I’ve actually known a few ponies, and they are really nice. From what I remember they weren’t hateful or even rude to anyone just for being human. Porter, you can back me up on this, right?”

Porter shrugged and replied, “As far as I’m concerned, as long as they’re not brainwashed newfoal zombies, I don’t particularly care. But I’m pretty sure not all of them are nuts. The Ambassador looks like a decent pony.”

A news anchor, a male British voice, narrated the scene.

“Today is the memorial service of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second. All over Great Britain, people are mourning, sending their condolences to the family. In her death, the next in line, Prince Charles, is now King of England. Meanwhile crews are cleaning the damage of Balmoral Castle.”

The scene cut to the newly promoted King Charles, who stood at the podium somberly, joined by the rest of the royal family, some of whom looked like they had just cried or were about to.

“My mother, the late and great Queen Elizabeth, was truly one-of-a-kind,” he choked out, trying to remain composed. “Her rule as queen has been plagued by trouble and hardship, but she remained strong, a true example of a leader. She was more than just a royal leader however; she was also a woman of the people, who fixed airplanes in the Second World War, participated in foreign and domestic political affairs, and caring for all peoples within the realm. She was taken from us too soon, but she died fighting to deliver a message to a tyrant that seeks to destroy everyone and everything.

“Even though she is gone, she is not forgotten, and her legacy will live on, as we prepare our forces to fight this invading threat. God bless us all.”

The anchor picked up and continued, “And as people the world over prepare themselves for war against Equestria, Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings has come forward, proclaiming herself an ally of humanity, and delivering her own eulogy for Queen Elizabeth.”

The small light turquoise unicorn stepped up to the podium, her mane neatly brushed and pulled into a prim bun, and she wore a simplistic black dress for the occasion. By her side was an Earth pony with a cream colored coat and a half blue, half pink mane, known to the public as Bon Bon. Bon Bon was one of Lyra Heartstrings’ closest friends, her trusted confidante, and rumor had it that the two mares were lovers as well. Lyra adjusted her microphone and began to speak.

“In the time I’ve been here on Earth, getting to know and interact with humans, I’ve seen amazing things I couldn’t have ever dreamt of. When I realized the effects the potion had on a human’s mind and soul, I immediately renounced Equestria as my home country. Today, I make it official. I cannot stand by and let Queen Celestia trample over an entire world’s history, cultures and accomplishments for something as petty as power. What she speaks of is not harmony, but of tyranny and subjugation. I, and my friends in the Ponies for Human Life organization, seek to help all humanity and stop this madness.

“In my duties as ambassador, I knew Queen Elizabeth as a strong woman and a leader of faith and resolve. Her sacrifice shall not be in vain. I call upon all humans to take the call to arms. No amount of dedication is too great when the price for failure is the annihilation of everything humanity stands for. Today, is the day we fight back!”

People clapped, and even some soldiers in the cafeteria were excitedly chattering, commending Lyra’s defection from Equestria, especially as the news footage showed other native born Equestrian ponies defecting from their home country.

Hyong-Jin wasn’t completely on board though, remarking, “Hasn’t it occurred to anyone here that maybe she might be a spy?”

Both Yon-Soo and Porter looked at Hyong-Jin with befuddlement, before the latter simply said, “I seriously hope you’ve noticed the irony in that statement you’ve just made, Hyong-Jin.”

Hyong-Jin didn’t respond, but that did make him stop and think. Porter meanwhile, made a mental note not to let Hyong-Jin get carried away. He knew all too well how revenge could consume and destroy a person.

“This is the K1A, a submachine gun that can shoot out 700 to 900 rounds per minute. Its lighter weight makes it easily maneuverable and useful in tight spots,” Porter marveled as he gave Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin their rifles.

The shooting range was fully equipped and expansive enough for quick training and skill polishing. As Yon-Soo picked up his gun, it felt solid but light in his hands. He aimed at the cardboard targets, some of which had been modified to look like ponies, and began shooting.

“Steady your aim and conserve your bullets! This is not like the video games where you’d find boxes of ammo conveniently lying around!” Porter yelled.

Yon-Soo tried to keep this in mind and make sure his trigger finger was steady. But it was very difficult. Even though the K1A was a bit lighter than the gun he had been equipped with back at the DMZ, Yon-Soo still had a hard time trying to get accurate shots and keeping the rifle steady. A whole minute felt like an hour when he ended up emptying the clip out and the shooting range was full of unused bullets.

Most of the targets looked like Swiss cheese, but that didn’t seem like something Porter was aiming for.

Yon-Soo, embarrassed at his mistake, could only say sheepishly, “Um, oops.”

Porter smacked his palm against his face.

Hyong-Jin on the other hand couldn’t help but laugh.

“The first rule of sneak attacking – gauge your environment and shroud yourself in darkness. Be undetectable. Second rule – find an opening. And third, strike down your opponent before he has the chance to defend himself. Be quick, quiet and discreet.”

In the time Porter had spent training Hyong-Jin, he had seen may clear improvements in his performance. It probably also helped that Hyong-Jin was getting three square meals a day and was much more energetic these days as a result.

But the kid still had a very long way to go.

Hyong-Jin and Yon-Soo both seemed to respond well to close-quarter combat training, and as Hyong-Jin was able to tiptoe quietly through the darkened rooms and corridors, armed with only a blade, he made quick work of the stuffed dummies set up around there.

He then felt a gun behind his head and a click.

“Bang, you’re dead,” said Yon-Soo.

He had just come out of the corner and used what Porter taught him to his advantage, sneaking up on Hyong-Jin without making a single sound.

“Damn it!” the North Korean cursed as Porter turned the lights on.

“Okay, Hyong-Jin, you’re dead. You know why? Because you didn’t fully gauge your environment. There’s a blind spot in the corner. Always check, because it’s the little details that could make the difference between dying and surviving.”

The other man smiled, though a bit bitter at making this mistake, and replied, “Thanks Porter. Looking back on it now, I’m really glad I decided to come with you. Who knows what would’ve happened to me if I didn’t.”

“Indeed.

“Studying English is so hard!” Hyong-Jin complained, throwing the textbook aside. Not only did he have to learn how to fight effectively, but he also had to start learning a whole different language too.

Well, two in fact. North and South Koreans spoke a different version of the language, caused by not only regional dialect differences, but the South’s contact with English and Japanese speakers caused new words and pronunciations to come up, causing a new kind of difficulty for defectors and refugees trying to make a new life in the south.

Yon-Soo could sympathize. It was required of all schools in the south to teach students how to speak English, but it was a difficult language to master. It was not just reading a new alphabet, but a whole different grammatical structure as well.

The tutor was a patient man though and smiled, saying, “I know it’s difficult, but you need to apply yourself to this. Yon-Soo tells me you’re very dedicated to your soldier training. This should require the same dedication.”

Hyong-Jin sighed, picked his book back up, and began again.

Ever since Porter agreed to help train him and Hyong-Jin, Yon-Soo had taken up to the habit of becoming more of a morning person. He actually had come to like it as time went on, going to bed and waking up earlier, and actually keeping to his schedule. Jogging was always something he liked doing for exercise, but the former actor/pop idol/model turned soldier now could feel a better purpose for it.
The morning was crisp and cool, the sun rising just overhead as Yon-Soo took it in. He had learned over time to savor these little things, because he knew any day now he would be called out to the front lines.

Once he was finished with his run, Yon-Soo went to meet Porter and Hyong-Jin at the training camp cafeteria. The food was alright, consisting largely of American cuisine. For breakfast, they were having toast, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns and anything else that could be taken from the line of food and put on a tray. As Yon-Soo was about to sit down, a young soldier burst into the eating hall, looking utterly frightened.

“Guys, everyone, look at the TV! The news! They’re saying North Korea was bombed!” he yelled.

That got everyone looking at the television in the room, as someone changed the channel to the news. And the news anchor, a square jawed man with neatly combed black hair, solemnly confirmed what the young man said.

“At approximately 6 am today, the Russian government, at the urging of the Chinese, released two nuclear missiles onto the North Korean region. Reporting from the DMZ now is Jennie Mendes. Jennie?”

Jennie Mendes, a young Hispanic woman, who was bundled up in a thick coat as she was surrounded by the backdrop of several patrol guards and soldiers at the patrol area Yon-Soo recognized as the same one and his friends passed through, said to the camera, “Yes, Richard, like you said, the North Korean region was indeed bombed by nuclear missiles that were Russian in origin. Although sources and information are scarce, it is believed their reasons lay with how the PER – Ponification for Earth’s Rebirth – successfully were able to convert the majority of the population. The Chinese military stationed at the border they shared with the country reported that the former North Koreans-turned-newfoals swarmed them by the hundreds of thousands!”

The news footage then cut to some choppy video recording of Chinese soldiers desperately firing at what looked like waves of smiling newfoals. Even as they were getting shot at by the droves and their bodies torn apart by the soldier’s bullets and grenades they just kept coming, like a plague of zombies. They didn’t scream in pain as they were shot, didn’t run away in fear, and their faces still frozen in those blank, glassy-eyed smiles.

“Good God,” Porter whispered, all color drained from his face. “I always had a feeling someone would resort to their nukes. Never thought this would happen though…”

Jennie continued, “The patrolmen stationed at this military checkpoint have uncovered evidence that Queen Celestia’s Royal Guards and the newfoals were trying to build a portal station in what was once Pyongyang to gain entry to Equestria. On top of that, attacks at the border between the borders of China and Russia already having claimed several humans and adding to their number prompted China to resort to getting rid of the threat before it could spill over from both sides. Although the Chinese and Russian governments have yet to release an official statement, there is no denying that this is a sign the war is only bound to escalate and get worse.”

The entire room burst into nervous chatter. If the Russians resorted to using their nukes, what could happen next? What about all the radioactive fallout? Who else died in that bombing besides newfoals, Royal Guards and PER agents?

Yon-Soo let his gaze wander over to Hyong-Jin, who had seen the news report and understood enough of what was being said to know his home country had been incinerated to the ground. He looked like he had just mentally shut down.

“Hyong-Jin…” he tried to reach out to his friend, but the other man ran out.

Porter said, “Let him go, Yon-Soo. He’s already gone through a lot. I think it is best we leave him alone.”

Yon-Soo wasn’t so sure. Hyong-Jin had already lost his father, and then the rest of his family and friends to the Equestrians, and now, his whole home country was nuked to the ground. He was pretty sure Hyong-Jin could do something drastic, so he ignored Porter and ran after him.

Yon-Soo managed to find Hyong-Jin quickly. He was sitting at the swimming pool area, looking into the sky, clearly utterly miserable.

Suddenly he said, “You want to know how my father died?”

Before Yon-Soo cound reply, Hyong-Jin continued, “It happened when I was about nine years old. I lived in the more rural parts on Tanchon, and most of the time, people were hungry and we often had to find all kinds of ways of getting whatever we could get our hands on when the food rations weren’t enough. My father was actually a football player, but he never got up to playing any international games. He supported us by doing whatever odd jobs he could, no matter how dangerous.

“When he got a job at this coal mine, my mother and I hoped that this would finally get us something better. But then, about two or so years into the job, he had inhaled enough coal dust and smoke from the burning coal that he became horribly sick. He would cough out blood and there was nothing the doctor my mother managed to bring from the city could do about it. Just a week before he died, he told me that I would be the man of the house once he was gone, and I promised him that I would take up his responsibilities and take care of the family. He died in his sleep a month after my ninth birthday; three after my little sister was born. The doctor said he coughed out too much of his lungs that he just couldn’t breathe anymore.”

Hyong-Jin began to cry, his fists tight and his whole body shaking. He looked at Yon-Soo, and there was rage in his eyes.

“Why?! Why did this have to happen to us? Why do good people have to suffer and the bad get away with everything?!”

Yon-Soo cringed, not really knowing how to respond to that. Sure, he, like everyone else in South Korea (if not the whole world) knew that life in the North was a miserable existence that amounted to desperately trying to survive day-to-day. But he had never seen the face of suffering until now. Yon-Soo had never seen someone who had literally lost everything.

And the worst part was that there was nothing he could say to comfort him. All he could do was take Hyong-Jin into his arms and let the man vent out his anger and grief.

“I hate them,” Hyong-Jin spat venomously. “I hate them all. The government that let my father die and my people starve, and the Equestrians that brought this down on us. I will make the Equestrians and the PER pay!”

Two weeks later…

Ever since the news reports came about the bombing in North Korea, Hyong-Jin had thrown himself into his training with a single-minded ruthlessness that worried Porter and Yon-Soo. His performance had skyrocketed, but the way he was going became troubling.

Yon-Soo himself had also made a lot of improvements as well. He had learned to become a far steadier shot, as well as mindful of the limited resources he would have out on the battlefield. He loved the feeling of sneaking and being quick. It was like doing everything in one take, and Yon-Soo had to admit, he was excited by the possibility of going out on the front lines and giving the ponies some proper payback.

But only a little bit. He knew war was not something to be taken lightly.

He had taken to martial arts again too, mostly Hapkido. It was a quick martial art that emphasized hard hits in close quarters combined with fast thinking and control of the opponent. Porter himself had basic CQC martial arts training that allowed for a philosophy of dishing only a few hits that were nonetheless hard and devastating. The trio was inside of a gym now, watching the instructor help them meditate. It was to help clear the mind he said.

“Remember,” said the master, “revenge is like ripping the stitches out of an open wound. It is poison. He who fights for revenge lets himself become as bad, if not worse, that the perpetrators.”

Yon-Soo reflected on that for a moment. Of course, he knew what he was fighting for – humanity’s survival, and to get the ponies off of Earth. But Porter and Hyong-Jin were the ones he was worried about, the latter most especially.

He didn’t like the thought of Hyong-Jin going in like some crazy person and risk life and limb for the sake of avenging his family.

“This right here is the K5 pistol. It’s a 9 mm semi-automatic with an ambidextrous safety lock, three-dot sights, an effective range of 50 meters and a block which stops the firing pin from moving forward unless the trigger is pulled, making this a simple but effective pistol for close quarters combat,” the weapons expert at the base told the two as he went over the list of the best weapons for their fighting type.

Yon-Soo gripped the pistol firmly, his shots having become a lot steadier and faster as his training continued. He still wasn’t a very violent person by nature, but he knew he had to put any delicate sensibilities he had aside when the time came.

As Porter and the general both examined the range, they both nodded with approval.

It was now the end of their three month long trial, and Porter was confident and nervous at the same time. He had seen many improvements in Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin’s performances and prowess, but that general he appealed to was definitely a perfectionist who wanted to know he hadn’t wasted his time on the three.

He, Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin were being tested in a training exercise now, being tested on their close quarter battle prowess. Porter himself was at the head of the trio, armed with a K7 submachine gun outfitted with a suppressor. Being the man with most experience of them, he was the main leader, and silent communicator.

Yon-Soo was armed with the K1A, a rifle he had become very adept at using nowadays, along with the K5 pistol, and a jack knife he kept in his boot. He covered Porter by the sides. He was focused and sharper than a razor, with the intention of keeping his fellow soldier safe.

Hyong-Jin carried the K2 assault rifle, covering the other two from behind, keeping watch for their backs. Over the last three months he had become a lot more robust, tougher and faster. Better nutrition, exercise and healthcare had turned him from a skinny kid who could barely lift his gun to a quick-on-his-feet fighter. He stayed watch from behind, covering them from any possible surprise attacks.

They scouted the corridor making sure there were no sentries around before declaring it safe to enter the room where the fake hostage was being held. Porter kicked the door down, and Yon-Soo shot at them both with his gun, which was specially fitted for paintballs so as to not kill anyone. Hyong-Jin scouted the whole room to make sure of no one hiding in corners while staying by the door to keep watch.

It was fast and quick, but only the first part. Yon-Soo took the mannequin that served as their rescued hostage, and they ran out of the building, as Porter and Hyong-Jin covered him from front and back, clearing their way until they exited the corridor.

The general clapped his hands, nodding with approval and he said, “Very good, gentlemen. Lt. Stanley, you’ve exceeded my expectations. You took two civilians and turned them into tough, bona fide soldiers in three months. Yon-Soo, Hyong-Jin, you have both also gained my respect. You worked hard, and it shows.”

All three men couldn’t help but beam with the praise they were getting.

“And your success is more than enough proof that with enough intensive training, regular civilians can become tough fighters as well. The PER is still active, as is the Queen’s forces, and every able-bodied person has to be able to contribute to the fight.”

Porter curiously asked, “So now what should we do?”

The general admitted, “We aren’t quite sure yet, but with your skills, we’re likely going to put you in charge of guarding military resistance bases that are closer to where the barrier could hit.”

Yon-Soo was a bit scared, he couldn’t lie to himself. Going to another country in itself was already pretty scary, but someplace close to Equestria was pushing it. Those would be the hotspots of Royal Guard and PER activity.

“When would we leave if you decide to send us someplace else?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“It depends.”

The three looked at each other, apprehensively.

Two and half weeks later…

“St. Petersburg?! Seriously?” Yon-Soo asked incredulously.

Porter remarked, “Look, man, I don’t like it any more than you do, but orders are orders. The Russians need all the help they can get at this point to keep the ponies from swarming the rest of the country from the western border. The general figured we were the best for the job.”

Hyong-Jin also didn’t like it. The Russians were the ones that sent out the missiles that destroyed most of North Korea, and from what he had learned in his reeducation during his training days, the Russians were the ones that caused the Korean War and ultimately were responsible for why his country had been so destitute and controlled for so long.

“When would we have to leave?” Yon-Soo asked, sighing with resignation.

“In two days. We’ll have to pack up only what we need, and you’d have to say goodbye to your family. But don’t tell them where you’re going,” Porter told him.

And so over two, very short days, Yon-Soo, Porter and Hyong-Jin packed their bags. Clothes, books and MP3 players were pretty much all they could really bring. Yon-Soo’s mother naturally sobbed her eyes out when Yon-Soo told her he was going out on the front lines. By contrast, Porter’s parents, though scared for his safety, knew he would be able to take care of himself.

Hyong-Jin himself had made friends with refugees and defectors, other former North Koreans who were also devastated and heartbroken by the news of their old home being bombed, and their families and friends left behind most certainly dead. Before he left, they gave him their prayers and let him know what he meant to them.

Hope.

Author's Notes:

Finally, after what felt like forever, I finished and posted this chapter! I know it's a little montage-y, but I wanted to keep it a little short and to the point. Training is only the first step Yon-Soo really takes towards becoming a bona fide badass soldier. He has to now go out on the front lines and use and apply his skills.

Poor Hyong-Jin. :'( I seem to love piling on the trauma with him. And things are likely only going to worse for the poor thing. I'm so cruel sometimes...

Thanks to Redskin once again for helping me out with the training scenes, Lyra's little cameo (more ponies will appear as time goes on, I promise!!!), and the North Korea stuff. If anyone wants to pre-read my future chapters for this on Google Docs, just give me a PM. I'm always open to others' suggestions and help too! :)

As for who I envision to look like Porter in my mind's eye, I'd say this guy: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4DZYG-VR1VY/T_DI34Je3BI/AAAAAAAAE24/E3_8576Z3hg/s1600/Scott+Porter.jpg
As for Hyong-Jin: http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35800000/So-Ji-Sub-Road-Number-One-so-ji-sub-35826053-450-675.jpg

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah and Happy Kwanzaa to everyone here! I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday season!