Chapter 12: An End to All Things

Part 2 of 3: To My Dearest Friends...

March 21st, 2016

Pinky yawned for what had to be the twelfth time that day. It was already getting rather late, with the sun just starting to descend into the horizon. She would have admired the beautiful colors that the sky brought her, if she wasn't already looking down the scope of a sniper rifle.

At first, when Matthew had asked her to stay on guard, she jumped at the chance. She figured that the job would encompass everything she ever wanted. Not only was she allowed to stay in a twenty foot tall tower away from the hanger, but she was allowed to hold onto the precious little sniper rifle in her care. Honestly, the weapon was just too cute for her to abandon. Who would have known how long it would stay in storage, without ever feeling any sense of love? Besides, it gave her a chance to prove to her commander that she was ready to do whatever it took to get the job done.

Unfortunately, that was four hours ago, and her cramped watch room was starting to become a major problem for her legs. It wasn't as if there was anything interesting to look at either. All there was for miles and miles on every side was forest. Boring, plain, detestable forest, which she hated. Or, perhaps not "hate", but something so similar she was unable to tell the difference.

As with many times when she was bored, Pinky's imagination began to run wild. At first, she pretended that there was a large group of black bears charging at the base, and she shot them down one after the other. At one point, she was so lost in her fantasy that she once shot a tree's branch clean off, which ended in Rachel calling her up and viciously scolding her for poor behavior. About an hour after that, she began to think of an alien invasion, where UFO's flew down from the heavens and began to abduct all of her friends. She very nearly fired her rifle again, although was able to stop herself less than a second before she pulled the trigger.

And then, quite by accident, her thoughts flew to Tara and Dash. She didn't know why, but she instantly felt feelings of resentment. To even think that she had been capable of working with such horrid people gave her the creeps. It plugged a sense of doubt into her mind that she preferred not to consider. What would have happened if she never discovered the truth? What would have happened to Rachel and Fiona and AJ? Or worse, what if they were only playing the parts of double agents, and had been scheming to stop Matthew's plans all along.

She shook away the thoughts. Naturally, her friends weren't out to get her. Pinky wasn't even sure if her friends had the hearts for something so despicable. In fact, once she thought about it, she wondered if even Tara or Dash were aware of the evil they were assisting. Maybe they were just as unaware as she was, completely blind to the truth. Perhaps, hopefully, they could still be redeemed.

Yet Pinky stopped her obsession with hope. If Rachel knew what she was thinking about, she would probably strangle her to death. And so, Pinky went back to imagining things. She imagined that the floor had turned to lava, and was going set the forest aflame. She imagined that fairies surrounded her, dancing and twirling about in the sunset. She imagined that a star was falling to the earth, ever approaching. She imagined that a vast ocean surrounded her and the entire base. She imagined that the falling star was moving much faster, and seemed to stick out from the environment more and more. She imagined that two gophers were wrestling with each other in the field.

Pinky paused for a moment. She looked up in the sky, and stared directly at the object moving towards her. She was quite certain that she had been imagining it, but it seemed to have a deep desire to morph into reality. The star remained very, very real, ever approaching her position. However, the star didn't look like a star to her. In fact, looking through the scope of her sniper rifle, the star almost looked like a large man, plummeting to the earth. Pinky blinked a couple of times, and then her eyes went wide with fear. Immediately, she spun around, opened up the hatch in the watch tower, and slid down the ladder. She yanked out her phone, looking behind her with dread.

"Rachel!" Pinky screamed in terror. "We have a problem. A really big problem!"

"What's wrong?" asked the British voice from the other end. "Pinky, talk to me. Pinky? Pinky!?"

Unfortunately, Pinky had lost all energy to speak. She was too busy running for her life. There were no other guards at the base. She had to make it back in time. She needed to warn them in time, before it was too late. She forced herself not to look back. She had to keep moving. The base was getting ever closer. Somehow, she felt as if she would be untouchable inside. She was so close. One hundred yards. Ninety yards. Eighty yards.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her shook violently, and a powerful gust of energy sent her sailing forward. She landed ten yards ahead, face planted into the ground. A large stone skipped past her, missing her head by mere inches. Her entire body ached, but she pushed herself up, and kept on moving forward. No matter how much she was in pain, she knew it would be far worse if they caught up with her.

You have to be kidding me, she thought. Her body was shaking with fear, and she amazed herself by not collapsing immediately. Why them? Everyone in the world, and it had to be them.

As Pinky ran far away from the ruined watchtower, Kristov Korbalov rose to his feet. With a sigh, he brushed off his jacket, wiping it clean of the filth which was kicked up in the air. He held a finger to his earpiece.

"Watchtower down," he said dryly. "No one else in sight. Move up."

"Coming," replied his brother. An engine roared from the forest, and within moments a massive combat truck plowed through the trees. The vehicle rolled to a stop just in front of Kristov's eyes, although the large man did not flinch. He merely took one of his red fists, and banged it against the hood. A side door opened with a hiss, and Yuri poked his head out.

"Nice work," he said with a smirk. "Although, you missed a spot over there. Try to be thorough."

"Will you shut up for a second?" Dash asked, irritated from being confined in such a tight space. She kicked Yuri in the back, trying to force her way outside of the vehicle. He only let her leave out of sheer pity, as watching such a small woman flailing about in a cramped space was practically heartbreaking to watch (and of course, he did not want to risk any form of deduction in his pay). Dash crawled out of the vehicle, shortly followed by Tara, and the pair surveyed the vast landscape.

Matthew Balle's hideout was an abandoned military base in the middle of the unused territory between Philadelphia and Harrisburg, along the Susquehanna River. The base itself existed in a clearing past several hills and woodland areas, taking up several hundred square meters of space. It consisted largely of three parts. First was the hanger, a large, rectangular building used to hold military grade vehicles. It was the closest to the main path to the base, and as such was surrounded by two watchtowers several hundred feet away. To the left was the silo, a dome-shaped structure which undoubtedly held the weapons Balle was so desperate to use. In the far back of the base was the smallest building, which Tara assumed to be a command center of some sort. That was where Balle had to be hiding (or at least, she hoped).

"Did you see any signs of the others?" Tara asked. Kristov shook his head.

"Does it even matter?" Yuri asked. "Those girls aren't a threat to us."

"Those girls are our friends," Tara said sternly. "And last time I checked, we beat your asses and left you to die in the snow. We need to get them out of here. Besides, we don't need Balle having any more security."

"Great. So how do we deal with them?"

"Well, first we have to run across one of them. AJ will probably be with her father. The others might be standing guard. And once we find them. We use one of these…" Tara reached into the armored vehicle, and pulled out a small briefcase, no bigger than her head. The group huddled around it, as Tara carefully opened it up. Inside, four metal syringes lay in wait, an orange liquid sloshing beneath the surface.

Yuri immediately started to snicker. "You want us to drug them? Kristov, why did we agree to take this job again?"

"Because they said they would pay us," Kristov replied in a dull voice.

"I'm sorry, but the Brothers of Chaos are specialized in killing their targets, not fucking them up," Yuri stated. "This is a lot of extra hassle to go through for some stupid—"

At once, Tara grabbed onto the collar of Yuri's shirt, and pushed him against the car. "Listen here, you Russian piece of crap!" she yelled furiously. "I don't really care about what the hell your business practices are! This is your goddamn job! If I see so much as a broken arm on one of those girls, I will tear your goddamn head off, and burn your remains to ashes!"

Yuri turned to Dash, hoping for someone to say something reasonable, although all he got was a snicker.

"Spark's got a point," she said, her grin wide. "You really don't want to see her get pissed off. She's got a wicked sucker punch."

Yuri considered this for a moment. He was quite positive that neither of the girls could deliver him much harm. After all, he was practically invulnerable. That one occasion in Russia was just a fluke, nothing more. Really, all they were making were empty threats. But when he looked at his brother, he saw him nodding in agreement. That was all it took for him to start smirking again, and throw his hands up in the air.

"Okay! Got me! I surrender," he said with a laugh. He swiped one of the syringes from the case, and put it in his back pocket. The rest of the group followed suite. "So, we take any prisoners back here, after we stab them with whatever the hell this thing is."

"Right," Tara stated. "According to Celestia, once this cure enters their bloodstreams, they'll be knocked out in seconds. That should be a lot simpler than having to drag them back here. Once someone is down, make sure to tag them and let the rest of us know. The needle needs to puncture in a major vein, so take care. We barely have enough of this cure made as it is; we can't afford to waste it."

"Spark, we got it," Dash groaned. "Let's save the fucking world already."

"Okay, okay," Tara grumbled. "Let's head to that building in the back. Hopefully they'll be back there." Yuri nodded, and jumped into the vehicle enthusiastically. Tara, however, climbed on top of the armored truck, and opted to ride in the turret mounted nearby. The cramped space was starting to induce minor claustrophobia, and the last thing she needed right now was to be stressed.

As the truck began to move, and her mission had officially begun, Tara couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread. The fear began to churn in her mind. On one hand, she was being guarded by the two most dangerous men on the planet, who would do anything for her as long as she could guarantee to pay them 3.5 million dollars' worth of government spending. On the other hand, everyone she cared about wanted her dead, and if she were to fail, the world as she knew it could be dead as well. It was not a comforting feeling. Tara started taking very deep breaths as she officially entered the ground of the military base.

You'll be fine, Tara, she tried thinking. We'll stop them. We always do. Everything will end up fine.

However, she knew that was a lie. She didn't always stop the bad guy. Most of the time, she wasn't able to do much at all. If she failed now, if she wasn't able to do anything, then it would all be over. For a brief moment, Chrysalis' face flashed in her head, a bitter reminded of her failures.

But that wouldn't be the end for her. She refused to let anyone else down ever again. After all of the hell that she had been through, she deserved to get the job done. In the past few months, she had been shot, stabbed, clubbed, beaten, drugged, tortured, mutated, and only God knew what else.

No, Tara Sullivan was certainly not going to fail today.

However, as this thought crossed her mind, so did a shadow across the sky. A surprisingly dark shadow for a sunset like this, which seemed quite peculiar. Suddenly, Tara felt someone slam into her back, and the next thing she knew, she was twenty feet in the air, soaring rapidly towards the hanger. She heard Dash scream out in panic, but it seemed like a distant echo. Before Tara had time to react, she was carried into the largely empty hanger, and thrown harshly against the metal wall. She let out a scream of pain as she collided, leaning hopelessly against the structure. She saw a shadow above her, and tried to push it away. However, she felt a hand wrap tightly around her throat, as she was lifted into the air, choking against the wall.

"We're finally together now." Tara instantly recognized the feminine voice. Through her blurry vision, she saw Fiona hovering mere inches away from her face, her hand keeping hold of her throat. Tara tried to remove her friend's hand, but was shocked at the display of strength Fiona displayed. She attempted to say something, yet only let out a wheeze.

"I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for this," Fiona said in a whisper. "I haven't slept in days. I knew you'd come. You had to save your 'precious little friends', didn't you?"

"F-f….. Fio— ergh," Tara managed to choke out. She clawed desperately at Fiona's arms.

"They mean so much to you," Fiona said, her voice full of disgust. "I'm just sure you would do anything for them, right? After all, they're your friends. It's not like you would ever want to hurt any of your friends, right?"

"Wh…what are—"

"What is it like to be you?" Fiona asked. "Walking around every day, putting everyone else down around you? Acting like the queen of the world? You don't even care about the people you hurt, do you!? They're just ants to you! So why not break them down, huh!?"

Tara was stating lose focus on reality. She was struggling less and less, and she could feel her body becoming limp. She looked directly into Fiona's eyes, half-terrified, half-sorrowful. Within Fiona's eyes was a tremendous flurry of emotions: hate, rage, desire, lust, heartbreak; all of these being unleashed as Tara slowly choked to death. Fiona leaned in close, and whispered in Tara's ear.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you yet," she said softly, her voice almost soothing. "That would be too easy. No, this needs to be slow. You need to understand everything I've felt. It's not fair until you experience all of the pain and humiliation you put me through. Then, once you're crying and begging for death, and I'll be something you never were: merciful."

Tara's vision was starting to fade. She let out a gurgle as Fiona pressed their foreheads together.

"This will be everything I've dreamed of," said Fiona happily. "Just the two of us… together at—"

Suddenly, with the last of her strength, Tara shot her arm forward. Fiona flew backwards into a light dangling from the ceiling. Tara fell ten feet to the ground, landing with a thud. She rolled around on the floor, gasping for air, and coughing erratically. Once she calmed herself, she looked up towards the light. It swung back and forth on steel cables, inertia controlling it.

Suddenly, a high pitched scream filled the air, and from atop the light, Fiona swooped down on blue wings, diving directly towards her target. She waited until the last moment before braking in mid-air, rotating around, and swinging her heel towards Tara's head. Tara barely rolled out of the way in time, with Fiona digging her heels into the steel floor. She turned towards Tara, and snarled.

"Fiona, listen to me," Tara begged, quickly moving backwards. "You don't need to do this."

"Yes, I do!" Fiona screamed, shooting towards Tara. "You need to pay!" Tara ducked underneath Fiona's fists, although this hardly stopped the angelic girl from attacking. Hovering just above the ground, Fiona continued to launch a series of punches at a rapid rate. Tara felt so stupid for leaving her sword in the truck. She knew it wouldn't be much help to her anyway, but it gave her a much needed sense of security. Feeling like she was losing ground, Tara wasted more of her energy to push Fiona away and get her some space. However, Fiona planted her heels against the floor, gliding backwards until she came to a complete stop.

"Fiona, please!" Tara shouted in vain. "You're not thinking straight!"

"I'm thinking more clearly than I have my entire life," replied Fiona. "It's all so clear now. You never cared at all! That's the game you play: you pretend to show compassion towards others just so you can tear them down! But it won't work on me anymore, you damn monster!"

"You're being brainwashed! Balle did something to your mind to make you act like this. You can stop this! I'm begging you. Please!"

"Why should I believe you!? Why should I believe anything that you say!?"

"Because it's me! Tara! Your friend! I just want to help you!"

"You liar!" Fiona screamed, launching herself towards Tara once more. Tara tried to force Fiona back, but nothing happened. She was left completely helpless against whatever her vengeful friend might do. Fiona attacked with no sense of order or strategy like she usually did. There was no tactical thinking involved whatsoever. Instead, she was driven by blind fury, letting a storm of limbs flail in every which direction.

"Please, I don't want to fight you, Fiona!" Tara screamed, desperately trying to break through. Her voice was shaky. She didn't have much energy left.

"Stop it! Stop lying to me!" Fiona yelled, continuing her onslaught. "All you ever do is lie to me, just like everyone else!"

"We can end this—"

"There is no end to this!" Fiona cried out. "Not until you suffer!"

"We're friends!" Tara begged, practically on the verge of tears. Fiona's eyes shot wide open. She growled furiously.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Friend!" shouted Fiona, punctuating each word with a punch to the head. On the fifth try, her fist finally landed with Tara's temple, sending the already-wounded girl crashing into the floor. In an instant, Fiona dove on top of her, straddling Tara's waist. She reached into her back pocket, and pulled out a thick knife. Tara was too dazed to realize what was going on.

"Just die already, you inhuman bitch!" Fiona shouted. She let out a terrible cry, as she thrust the blade towards Tara's chest.

__________

Dash started to panic. Even from within the truck, she heard Tara's screams as she was flown away. Kristov seemed to show slight sings of concern, yet Yuri's face gave no impression of worry.

"Stop the car!" Dash ordered.

"We're not stopping the car," Yuri stated.

"We're not leaving Spark behind to die."

"We have a job to do, and we're going to get it done. That's the Korbalov way."

"Bullshit. You guys do whatever the fuck you want to! Don't try to attach some flimsy moral code to this. You're fucking mercenaries."

"We keep driving. That's final."

"Yuri, go to the hanger," Kristov instructed. "Protect the client at all costs." Yuri groaned in frustration. He had no particular pleasure being at the base. There wasn't any real reason for him to show up except for the money, and he wanted to retrieve it as fast as possible. So why did there have to be so many extra rules for him to obey?

"Fine," he said with a grunt. "Let's—"

BOOOOOOOOOM

The truck shook violently, as it spun onto its side. The three souls inside were thrown about in chaotic fashion until the vehicle stopped sliding across the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" Dash exclaimed. Her body was bent forward at an uncomfortable angle, and she lost all sense of direction. She saw the door in front of her. She began kicking it sporadically, until it eventually opened with a pop. As it turned out, Dash was staring straight up into the sky, and was greeted with the calming sight of deep orange. On shaky legs, she climbed out of the turned-over truck. Quickly, she identified the source of her problem: Pinky stood outside of the silo, aiming at the truck with an RPG. Upon discovering signs of life, the blonde dashed inside of the silo, dumping her rocket launcher to the ground.

"Guys, I'm going after Pinky," Dash said to the truck. "Get this car back in order."

"Working on it," Yuri called from inside. As Dash chased after her friend, the two Korbalovs piled out of the truck. They stared at it for a few seconds, before grabbing onto it, and flipping it back over once more.

"Damn it," said Yuri. "The paint was chipped. And look at that! A dent. I hate cleaning this thing up."

"It's not too bad," Kristov said. "It'll take you a few hours. It's better than drinking the day away." The two stood in silence for a minute.

"So… should we be helping them out at all?" Yuri asked.

"We were told to fix the truck, so we fix the truck," Kristov shrugged. He reached inside the vehicle, and pulled out an ancient katana. It seemed so small in his massive hands. "Besides, there are more of those girls about. We should probably start looking for them."

"Good idea," Yuri said, turning towards the hanger. "Faster we do this, the faster we—"

Smack

A boot connected with Yuri's head, sending him to his knees. Kristov opened his mouth to speak, but was swept off his feet immediately.

"Take this you freaks of nature!" screamed Rachel, who stood over Kristov. She raised her foot high in the air, and then brought it down onto his stomach, causing him to grunt. Yuri recovered, and lunged at his foe. Yet, Rachel was quick. She performed a simple back handspring, and dodged the attack all together. Then, she grabbed ahold of Yuri's fist with one hand, and used her other arm to wrap around his neck. Spinning around, she used his weight to force his head into the side of the truck, before kneeing him in the face when he recovered.

"I knew we should have killed you when we had the chance," Rachel said to herself. "Why did they have to be so damn sympathetic? Well, I'm not making the same mistake again."

Yuri growled, and charged at Rachel. She simply smirked. She could see every move before Yuri ever made them. It was child's play to duck the right jab, and them weave around the incoming left hook, before jumping away from the knee. It was also simplistic to see that Kristov had jumped to his feet, and planned to hit her lower back in two second's time. She fell to her knees, allowing the red hand to sail over her head, and hit Yuri in the chest. She rolled backwards, falling behind Kristov, and jumped off of his back, and onto the top of the truck. She landed nearly flat on the surface, before whipping around, and delivering a sweep kick directly to Kristov's chin.

"Do you two honestly think you can hit me?" Rachel taunted. "I've been training for this for months. See these boots? They're laced with a triple-reinforced titanium/steel alloy. It's something I came up with a while back that the good doctor whipped up for me. It's practically indestructible, and given how your nervous systems haven't fully recovered, I'd say it hurts."

Rachel flipped off the truck on the opposite side, just as Yuri punched the truck in anger. It flipped up in the air, flying over Rachel's form, and landed some ten feet away. Rachel charged at her opponents, keeping as close to the ground as possible, weaving back and forth like a serpent. Yuri readied himself for another attack, but was suddenly pushed aside by Kristov. His arms began to glow, and with a yell, he slammed them into the earth. The ground cracked beneath him as a shockwave launched towards the charging woman. However, she leapt into the air, staying untouched as she delivered another kick to Kristov's face. Yuri attempted to grab her, but she sucked beneath his grasp, and a shoot her boot into his jaw. He stumbled backwards, holding onto his wounded face.

"Come on, you psychotic bastards," said Rachel. "We're only getting started."

__________

The only word Dash could use to describe the missile silo was dark. That was her first thought the moment she entered the building. In less than a second, everything had turned back, and she was left wading around in complete darkness. She knew for certain that Pinky had wandered inside, but in the darkness, it seemed like it would be near impossible to find her. Dash reached for her belt, and detached a pistol, which for once, was not actually stolen from Camelot.

"Pinky? Where are you?" Dash called out, cautiously taking one step after another. She had no idea why, but she hoped Pinky was still gullible enough to give away her position. Unfortunately, the only thing Dash ended up finding was something large and metal, which she proceeded to walk straight into. Dash yelped, and the pain in her foot only frustrated her.

"Come on, Pinky! Show yourself! We don't need anyone to get hurt here."

There was no response. There was a quick patter of footsteps to her left, but by the time Dash turned around, they had died away. Dash kept her weapon at the ready, peering into the unknown. For all she knew, Pinky was standing right behind her, ready to stab her straight in the throat.

Nah, Pinky would never do something that insanely violent, Dash tried thinking to herself. However, a very distinct memory popped into her mind. She recalled being chased by members of the Smiling Dragons, and Pinky shooting several criminals in their jugulars, watching them slowly bleed to death. Dash rescinded her hypothesis.

"Look, Pinky," Dash said, trying to sound reasonable. "Let's be reasonable hear. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to talk things out. So don't fucking stab me to death. Cool?"

The footsteps came back. However, the conditions of the room made it so that the sound echoed off of the walls, and died just as quickly as they began. With a groan, Dash pointed her gun in the air.

"Okay, listen up!" Dash stated. "If you don't come out here in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna start firing at random. I have to hit you at some point, right?"

"Wait! Don't fire!" Pinky suddenly shouted. Dash spun around, scanning the blackness for any sign of her friend. "Whatever you do, don't fire the gun!"

Dash raised an eyebrow. "Why the fuck not? Don't want to get shot in the head?"

"Think about it," Pinky said, clearly annoyed. "We're surrounded by nuclear weapons. Do I even need to explain what would happen if you fired a gun in a room like this? I think it's pretty freaking self-explanatory!"

Dash lowered her weapon. It wasn't as if she were planning on using it anyway. Her intent was to capture, never to kill. Still, she had to pause and consider what would happen to the base if twenty or so nuclear bombs all went off at the same time. However, she realized something that perhaps Pinky herself had not realized.

"So… you can't fire anything as well, right?" Dash said with a smirk. Pinky said nothing, although there were more footsteps skittering across the floor. "You don't have any weapons at all, do you?"

"Wha… what are you talking about?" Pinky asked, her voice shaking. "Of course I have weapons. What kind of idiot would I be if I didn't bring a close-range weapon into a nuclear missile silo? Heh heh heh…"

"Wow," Dash said, unable to stop herself from being amused. "This… this is the most pathetic cat-and-mouse game in the history of ever."

"Hey, don't mock me!" Pinky yelled. "At least I'm not working with the bad guys!"

"Yes, you are! That's why your stock-piling nukes! How is that a good thing?"

"It's for a good cause."

"Like what?"

"Well… Mr. Balle hasn't actually told me, but I'm sure it's good!"

"Okay, I've had enough of this," Dash said with a sigh. She put away her gun, and pulled out the metal syringe. "Can you just come out already? It's not like there's any way you can beat me in a fight."

"No way! I'm not giving up to you!"

"Well…" Dash said with a grin. "Can you at least turn on the fucking lights? Seriously, the last thing I want right now is to stub my toe and kick start World War III."

"Oh… okay, I guess," Pinky said after a minute. "The light switch is actually right next to me. Hold on a second."

Suddenly, the footsteps returned, heading to the edge of the silo. Dash couldn't believe her ears. There was no way it was happening. It was impossible. Was she actually about to do what she thought she was about to do? Dash stood still with wide eyes, waiting in anticipation.

Suddenly, the lights in the room turned on. Dash covered her eyes with her hand, allowing them to adjust. All around her, she saw nothing but storage crates full of warheads. There seemed to be a new crate every few yards. However, that was not the interesting part. What was so fascinating to Dash was that, merely ten feet away, standing behind a storage crate, was Pinky, standing happily by a light switch. Pinky smiled cheerfully, seemingly proud of her accomplishment. She opened her big, blue eyes, and gave Dash a thumbs-up.

And then, Pinky froze in fear. She looked at the light switch, and then back to Dash. Then back at the light switch. Then back to Dash. Then back at the light switch. Then at her own feet. Then back to Dash.

Dash simply sighed. "Pinky, I love you to death," she said with a soft smile. "But you have to be the biggest fucking idiot on the face of the Earth."

Immediately, Pinky hauled towards the entrance. However, Dash was much quicker. She ran at Pinky head on, sliding over the storage crate with ease. Pinky barely ran a yard before she was tackle to the ground, with Dash holding her hands behind her back. Pinky wriggled around like a worm, trying in vain to free herself.

"Get off of me!" Pinky screamed. "You won't take me alive! Do you hear me!? You can hold me down, but you'll never—"

"Shut up already," Dash groaned, using one hand to hold Pinky's head to the floor. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk way too fucking much?" Successfully holding Pinky in place, Dash carefully pressed the needle into her neck, slowly pumping in the cure. Pinky moaned in pain.

"Hey! What are you doing!? Stop that! Get off of me. I'll get you. I'll get you so hard. You'll… you'll be so…sorry that you…ever…ugh…"

Pinky fell limp on the cold, hard floor. Dash checked her pulse, hoping Celestia hadn't made a crucial error. Luckily, Pinky appeared to be very much alive. She was breathing very softly, but was otherwise just fine. Dash took a deep breath. The encounter had gone much easier than she had expected, yet she couldn't help but feel on edge. Most likely, she figured because Tara was still in danger. So, with a sigh, Dash lifted Pinky up over her shoulders, and ventured out of the silo to find her troubled friend.

__________

The Korbalovs were known to be an unstoppable force of nature. They were not only infamous for the sheer brutality of their actions, but their capabilities to accomplish any task asked of them. They could never be killed, nor beaten. Any such accusation would surely result in the painful demise of the doubter. At least, this is what Yuri believed in his heart. So, his frustration was understandable when he was booted in the jaw of a twelfth time.

"Still too slow!" Rachel shouted as she jumped away from Yuri's fist. Yuri growled.

"Why won't you just stay still?" he bellowed, trying unsuccessfully to land a hit. Rachel smirked as she sidestepped Yuri's punch, rolled along the length of his arm, and jabbed him in the throat before ducking away. She took calm, collected breaths as she surveyed the environment.

Keep it up, Rachel thought to herself. A few more strikes should do it.

Rachel had never fully appreciated her Macer abilities before. Of course, when she was coping with her blindness, it was certainly splendid to have the ability to see. But after that extensive period, she had never gotten a true chance to use her powers for much other than dancing. However, now faced against the Brothers of Chaos, the very same people whose torture had made her life such a living hell in the first place, she felt almost like a super hero. It seemed very much so as she bounced off of foes, dodged every incoming blow with relative ease, and faced clearly sadistic opponents.

The thought caused Rachel to smirk. She was a superhero. Wasn't that something to be proud of? It was a true achievement if she ever saw one.

Just as this thought occurred, she saw Kristov charging up his arms in the corner of her vision. Even though her glass eyes stared aimlessly at the floor, she could clearly see that she was about to be attacked from two separate angles. At once, she dashed in Kristov's direction, zig-zagging to make herself a harder target. As she approached, time seemed to slow down. She clearly saw Kristov's intention of swinging towards her head, so she dove towards him feet first, sliding beneath his legs. During which, Rachel rolled onto her stomach, and took a deep breath. The moment she passed through his legs, Rachel rolled her legs backwards over her head, and using her palms for leverage, rose to her feet. She quickly delivered a swift kick to the back of Kristov's knee, and when he fell down in pain, she spun and delivered another kick to the side of his head. Sensing Yuri charging from behind, Rachel grabbed onto Kristov's shoulders, and used him as a springboard to get away from the battle.

"Dammit, she's slippery," Yuri muttered. He helped his brother to his feet.

"This obviously isn't working out for us," Kristov stated. "We need another approach."

"We only have the one approach. Unless you want me to shoot her down. I'd like to see her dodge bullets…"

"I have an idea, but it's risky," Kristov said. "It could blow up the base if uncontrolled."

"You're not thinking of—"

"Yes. I am. Just give me enough time to charge up. Sixty seconds, probably."

Yuri smirked. "I can do that. Sixty seconds is nothing."

"Are you sluts going to talk to each other, or are you going to fight?" Rachel sneered. "Clearly, that's all you nonintellectual brutes know how to do anyway."

Suddenly, Yuri stopped being frustrated. Something about being taunted by such a young creature seemed so ridiculous to him that he immediately lost all sense of tension. Once again, everything seemed like a game.

And Yuri liked games.

"Tell me, girl," Yuri said, taking slow steps towards his foe. "Do you really want to have your eyes ripped out again?"

Rachel growled. "It won't be my eyes, you son of a bitch."

Reminded of her intense hatred, Rachel sprinted towards Yuri at a relentless pace. Yuri crouched down, waiting in anticipation for Rachel to strike. Based on her low stance, he suspected a low attack; in all likelihood, she was going to sweep his legs. However, at the last possible moment, Rachel stopped short, and jumped high into the air, drawing back her leg. Yuri was barely able to lean back in time to avoid being hit with the Brit's reinforced boot. Her foot sailed inches away from his face, and she was forced to bend at an odd angle in order to land properly.

However, Rachel recovered with great speed, and instantly turned her failed roundhouse into a devastating sweep. Yet this time, Rachel wrapped her right leg around Yuri's left, and rotated onto her stomach. The sudden shift in momentum forced the already off-balanced Yuri to the floor. Rachel rolled out from underneath him just before he landed, and she jumped back to her feet. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Kristov kneeling over, with his hands placed on the ground. She saw a bright red pulsating from his arms. She became instantly frightened. She knew full well what those arms were capable of, and she refused to let anything of the sort happen to her.

"Oh, no you don't!" Rachel shouted, beginning to run after Kristov. Yet in her fear, she failed to notice that Yuri had gotten off of the floor. Without any warning, she was picked up, and held in place by two power arms.

"There we go," Yuri said happily. "We finally got you to hold still."

Suddenly, Rachel went into overdrive. Feeling his hands holding onto her body, having him actually make contact with her was sickening. The pain began to flow back to her. She remembered every fist that landed with her face. She perfectly recalled every single knife wound, all of which continued to haunt her form. But most importantly, she remembered what it felt like when Yuri had reached into skull, and tore her eyes away. Even after she said everything she knew, he still went on tormenting her, ripping out her other eye for good measure.

She would never face such pain again.

Like a wild animal, Rachel screamed. Using all of her strength, Rachel swung all of her mass to the ground. Once Yuri leaned forward to compensate, she viciously snapped her head backwards, feeling the cracking of bone behind her. She fell to the ground, feeling more relieved than she had her entire life. By this point, she didn't care about taunting the Korbalovs anymore. All she wanted was to make them truly suffer. She screamed again as she lunged backwards, and punched Yuri directly in the face. His flesh felt like steel, but she battered away at him in a blind rage. She could feel him buckling beneath her strikes, growing weaker with every hit. Once she finally felt like he was wounded enough, she tackled him to the ground. With her newly gained vantage point, she started to pummel the younger Korbalov into submission.

"Do you like how this feels!?" Rachel shouted furiously, punching without end. "Do you like making people suffer!? Well now you're going to suffer! You'll pay for what you've done. I'll cut your eyes out! I'll cut your tongue out! I won't stop until you're just a bleeding mass of flesh! This is for ruining my life! This is for taking everything away from me! This is—"

CRASH

Before Rachel knew what was happening, Kristov slammed his fists into the ground, sending tremors out through the earth. Yuri and Rachel were immediately launched into the air, sailing several dozen feet before colliding into the hard concrete. While Yuri's hardened muscles prevented him from receiving no more than a few scratches, Rachel had no such luxury. As she tumbled across the floor, her foot snapped violently to the side, and jagged slabs of concrete cut deep into her flesh. When she finally came to a halt, she barely had the energy to move. All that she could identify was intense pain. In desperation, she tried to crawl back to the command center. She needed to warn AJ and Matthew. She needed their help. She was going to die. She was going to face hell again. She knew she wouldn't be able to handle it.

However, her journey stopped short when she felt a large boot step on her hand. She looked up in fear, and saw the Kristov's shadow looming over her. Suddenly, she knew that she was facing the last moments of her life. This was truly the end for her.

And then, she felt something prick into her neck. She thought it was a very strange thing to happen indeed, before everything turned black.

__________

Tara's arms were firmly crossed above her head. With every passing moment, she felt herself growing weaker. The only thing that motivated her to keep fighting was the blade dangling inches above of her face.

Fiona gritted her teeth together. She was so close that she could taste it. All it needed to be was a few more inches. Tara was already waning, and it would be so simplistic to end her life right now if she truly wanted. And yet, something kept holding her back. For whatever reason, she felt like she was unable to finish the job. It was almost as if some part of her brain was telling her that she wasn't supposed to kill Tara.

Unfortunately, this only infuriated Fiona more. Why was she having doubts now? Why was the concept of mercy suddenly appearing in her mind? Did Tara do this to her? Was it just more of her twisted thoughts seeping their way into Fiona's head. Fiona decided that yes, it had to be that. It was all Tara's fault. It was her fault for everything that was wrong. But Fiona would not let anyone else be manipulated by Tara's cruel and evil ways. With newly found determination, Fiona pushed down on Tara's arms even harder than before, using her leverage to her advantage.

Tara felt her arms snap back down into place. The steel of the blade rested just above her eye. If she made even the slightest movement, she would surely be stabbed. She looked all around, desperately searching for something to help her. Alas, all she could see in the hanger were trucks and tanks, most of which many yards away. But then, as her hope was fading, she spotted something in the far end of the hanger: a weapons locker. All she needed to do was get to it, and maybe, she could stay alive for just a little longer.

"Fiona," Tara said, struggling under the weight. "I just want you to know… I'm sorry for anything that I've done to hurt you."

"You're lying!" Fiona growled, raising her arms high in the air. The knife glistened in the dying sunlight that shone through the hanger. With one final strike, Fiona brought down the blade as hard as she could towards Tara's head.

However, Tara was waiting for this. Mere seconds before the knife made contact, Tara rolled her upper body to her left. The blade bounced off the ground behind Tara's head with a clang. Taking advantage of the missed attack, Tara wrapped her right arm around Fiona's, and pulled her legs close to her chest. With a great push, Tara flung Fiona as far away as possible, and stumbled to her feet. She heard Fiona muttering to herself in anger, and realizing she did not have much time to waste, she sprinted towards the locker.

Tara felt nauseous, surely a side effect from overuse of her powers. She had no idea how she even found the strength to keep moving forward. The injuries from the previous nights were ungratefully reminding her of their presence. Still, she had to push onwards. She heard Fiona screaming; the cry sounded like that of a banshee. Tara saw the creature swoop past her on the right, flying at incredible speed. Then, a dozen feet away, Fiona spun around, and dove at Tara, brandishing her blade. With both hands on the hilt, Fiona brought her hands out to her side, and forcefully swung at a sharp angle. Luckily for Tara, she was just able to duck underneath the blade, and continued running at full speed. Fiona came to a sudden halt as her feet connected with the ground, and then she launched herself backwards. Tara glanced backwards to see that Fiona was gaining ground.

"Get over here, you stupid bitch!" Fiona screamed as she approached. However, before she could get within striking distance, Tara had spun around, and grabbed onto her arm. Using what she knew about circular momentum, Tara grabbed onto Fiona's arm, and launched her forward. Fiona crashed back first into a tank several yards away. At last, Tara had a golden opportunity. She legs were shaky, and she felt like she was going to be sick, but she was almost to the locker. She heard Fiona groaning in agony from far away. She still had time.

The instant Tara reached the weapons locker, she slammed into it at full force, knocking it open. Her eyes scanned around for anything that she could use. Much to her satisfaction, she found a 9 millimeter handgun resting at the bottom of the locker. She grabbed the pistol, and whipped around to aim it at her target.

However, Fiona wasn't there anymore. Before Tara realized what was going on, she felt two arms wrap around her neck, and drag her to the floor. Fiona knelt behind her with a gleeful look on her face.

"Got you now," said the deranged youth. "This will be nice and slow; a few drawn-out minutes of complete agony. I think you deserve that."

Tara groaned, and then reached upwards, placing the gun to Fiona's chin.

"I don't think so," Tara stated, her voice dry. "You're going to let me go now, or I'll splatter your brains all over the wall. It's your choice."

Fiona paused for a moment, looking downwards at the gun. Tara's finger was already resting on the trigger, and based on the expression she wore, she did not seem to be messing around. After all, Tara was an evil person, so it would only make sense of her to murder someone in cold blood. That did seem most logical. Based on all of the evidence, Fiona came to one conclusion.

Fiona started to laugh. It was an honest, sincere chuckle that seemed so out of place at the moment that Tara was left perplexed.

"Really? Is that supposed to frighten me?" Fiona asked through her chuckles. "Please, Tara. We both know you won't shoot me. You won't shoot anyone. You're too much of a coward to do anything like that. Next time you make empty threats, make sure your opponent doesn't know everything about you."

Tara began to panic. Her bluff had failed horrendously. She could feel the life being drained out of her body, slowly being leached away. If that wasn't bad enough, Fiona suddenly began to fly, lifting Tara high into the ceiling. Gravity shifted her weight downwards, only increasing the pressure of Fiona's choke.

"Isn't this much better?" Fiona taunted. She talked in a laugh, but something in her voice gave way to pure hatred. "You are afraid of heights, after all. There isn't a better place for you to die in the world. Tell me… how long were you going to wait? How many more months was it going to be before you made your final move, leave us all in the dust? How much longer were you planning on draining the life from us before you got bored?"

Tara gagged, unable to respond.

"You're awful, you know. Really, you're probably the worst person I've ever met. I'm being merciful here, allowing you to choke to death. I could have made you suffer for months like you made me. You should be bowing at my feet, thanking me."

Tara stared at Fiona's arms. She knew she had once final chance to free herself. Unfortunately, it would be a very long fall to the ground.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look?" Fiona asked, feigning sincerity. "It's truly a shame such looks are wasted on such a terrible personality."

Shlkk

Fiona screamed in horror as Tara suddenly bit into her arm. Tara tasted the blood flowing over her lips, but continued to bite down regardless. Fiona flew around erratically, trying to shake Tara off. In one fell swoop, Fiona slammed into a light fixture, sending her spiraling out of control. Tara was dropped from the sky only a yard above the ground, while Fiona ended up colliding into a truck, causing her wings to retract back into her body. The pair lied twenty feet apart from each other. Neither of them moved. Time passed by slowly.

Finally, Tara started to recover from the fall. From yards away, she heard Fiona groaning. Both girls rose to their feet on trembling legs, falling over on occasion. Tara looked at Fiona pitifully. The poor girl appeared to have broken her arm from the fall, as she held it very close to her chest. With her other hand, she dragged herself up, using the truck as support. Even though they were practically fighting to the death, Tara entered a state of worrying.

"Fiona?" she called out, fearful for her friend. She began to walk towards Fiona, taking careful steps to make sure that she didn't pass out. "Are you alright? Fiona, can you talk to me? I need to make sure your—"

Click

Tara instantly froze. Fiona had extended her "broken" arm, revealing Tara's gun. She was wearing a devious smirk.

"Don't move," she said, failing to hide the pain in her voice. "Don't you dare take another step closer."

Tara slowly raised her arms in front of her, a sign of surrender.

"Put the gun down, Fiona," Tara said calmly. "Don't do anything rash."

"Rash?" Fiona asked, insultingly. "This is all for justice. This will make things right with the world. All it would take is a second, and balance will be restored."

"Look, Fiona—"

"Don't say my name!" Fiona snapped. "You don't deserve to say my name! You don't deserve anything except pain and death."

Tara sighed. "I… I know you hate me right now. I understand. I hate myself too. But trust me… if you pull that trigger, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"Liar! That's another one of your tricks, making me think things that are only hurtful. I should kill you right now!"

Tara thought about this for a moment. She spoke softly. "Then why haven't you done it yet?"

Fiona froze. She was completely shocked. What was Tara talking about? Was it just more tricks? It had to be, right?

But Tara knew what she had said hit something in Fiona's mind. Her real mind. Slowly, she began to walk forward. Fiona snapped out of her state of shock, and refocused her aim.

"Don't take another step!" she ordered. Yet Tara marched forward, closing the gap one step at a time.

"Go ahead… kill me," Tara said dryly. "If you really want to do it so bad, go ahead. You have a gun, so do it. Shoot me right now, before I get any closer."

"I… I will," Fiona stammered, the gun trembling in her hands.

"Then why are you hesitating?" Tara asked. "You could have killed a dozen times before. You could have snapped my neck, or dropped me from the sky, or at least tried something to end my life faster. But you didn't. Why is that?"

"I… I needed to make you suffer," Fiona answered, sounding unsure. "I wanted to make it last."

"Maybe you didn't want to do it at all," Tara stated. "Maybe there's still some part of you left inside, fighting to keep me alive. Maybe you never wanted to kill anyone at all. Maybe… you still care about me."

Fiona didn't know what to say. Her head was starting to hurt. Tara was only ten feet away, and getting closer still. She was bluffing, she had to be. It was the only way. But what if she wasn't? What if she really did care? Her mind felt like a battlefield, and she didn't know which side was good or which was evil. She just wanted it all to stop.

"No," Fiona said softly. Then, more confidently, she yelled, "No! Shut up! I hate you. I hate everything about you! You're mean and ignorant and cruel, and I hate you! All you ever try to do is break me, just like everyone else in the world!"

"I know," Tara said, soothingly. "I know I'm an awful person. I know I'm stupid and selfish and… well, everything. And I certainly know you deserve a better friend than me."

"Shut up… shut up…"

"But I know that we are friends. And I know that you would never want to hurt any of your friends. That just isn't you, Fiona."

"You're lying…"

"Please, Fiona," Tara said. She was less than a yard away now. Carefully, she placed both hands onto the barrel of the gun. "Fiona… we both know you don't want to kill me. It's all over now."

Fiona was in a full state of panic. Nothing was making sense to her. Half of her mind was screaming to finish the job, pull the trigger, end it all before she was hurt again. But the other half of her mind as begging for her to put down the gun before she did something horrible that she would never forgive herself for. Who was she supposed to listen to? Everything came and went in waves. She was losing all sense of self. She lost control of her body. Her mind was a wasteland. Why were tears rolling down her cheeks. What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to do? She never wanted to hurt Tara. Tara was her friend. But then why did she want to kill her? She wanted it all to stop. She was praying for it to end. She just wanted to be left alone, or be surrounded by friends, or both, or neither. Everything seemed to just be one big blur.

And then, reality came back to her. Tara was holding onto the barrel of a gun, looking at her sorrowfully. From there, the choice was obvious. Fiona slowly pointed the gun towards the ground, and then lunged into Tara's arms. She let her pain flow out in the form of sobs, as Tara soothingly rubbed her arm.

"Oh God… oh God, I'm sorry," Fiona said weakly into Tara's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shh," Tara whispered. "It's okay. No one's hurt. It's all over."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything, I swear. I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay, Fiona. It's all okay now," Tara spoke softly. She allowed Fiona to cry herself out for a few more seconds, feeling the girl's heavy sobs against her shoulder. Then, Tara used her free hand to reach into her back pocket, pull out the syringe, and stick it into Fiona's neck. The angelic girl barely noticed anything through her cries. Soon, she murmured something unintelligible into Tara's neck, and passed out. Tara carefully lowered her to the ground, comfortable laying her head against the truck.

"Spark! You in here!?" cried Dash from the entrance.

"Over here!" Tara called. Dash jogged over to her friend, taking note of the damaged hanger.

"Jesus Christ, what went on in here?" asked Dash. Suddenly, she took note of Fiona lying against the truck. "Ms. Angel did this?"

"Yeah," Tara said with a nod. Dash sighed.

"Man, that girl is going to turn into a psychopath one day," Dash stated. "Pinky and Rachel are dealt with. The guys are loading them into their truck. That worked out better than expected."

"But we still have a lot of stuff to do," Tara said sadly. "Balle is still out there, and so is AJ."

"We'll handle it just fine. Oh, that reminds me…" Dash reached around her back and removed the black sheathe which she was wearing. She handed it to Tara, who smiled as she removed her sword.

"Thanks, Dash. I really need to stop leaving this behind all the time."

"Get on it," Dash said with a chuckle. "Come on, let's get back to the others. We'll come up with a plan or something."

"And by 'we', you mean I, correct?"

"Now you're getting it."

Tara sighed. She glanced back at Fiona, sleeping soundly against the truck. Even though her head still ached and her body was still weak, she was somehow assured by this that everything would turn out alright. She had absolutely no idea why she thought this, but it comforted her, and so she did not question it. With a smile of confidence, she jogged to the door of the hanger with Dash.

"We're going to need to take a break," Tara said as she reached the exit. "I don't know about you, but I can barely—"

Smack

Tara flew backwards, landing against the hard ground with a thud. Dash opened her mouth to scream, but felt an arm wrap around her, and throw her to the ground as well. Dash looked up in panic. A girl her age stood over her, holding two machete blades. Her skin was tan, her blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and she wore a Stetson atop her head.

"So," AJ said calmly. "Where do you two think you're going?"

To Be Continued…