Diesel nearly forgot to slam on the tank's breaks, forcing the massive vehicle to come to a screeching halt near the center of the village, moderately far from any non-decrepit homes. Despite pain coursing through his left shoulder and foreleg, Clockwork assisted in shutting down the tank just befoe turning around to see a striped figure literally kick out the roof of the vehicle. The warrior then pulled a behavioral 180 and lifted his unconscious sister out of the mobile death machine with the gentleness and care of a mother handling her newborn. After giving her to several awaiting zebras whom Clockwork took for trained healers, Askari jumped to the ground below with a low thud. He was soon followed by his five comrades in arms and one doggish tank pilot.

As Clockwork regained his footing in the soft dirt, he noticed Zecora along with several familiar elderly zebras coming his team’s way. He did his best to stand at attention, but winced and nearly collapsed as another lance of pain decided to ruin his day. Much to his surprise though, Zecora wasn’t paying attention whatsoever to him, but rather to Long Shot and Askari.

“In time, the Consortium will receive a punishment like no other! Through what did they make my beloved sister suffer?” Zecora rhymed with equal parts fury and shock.

“A majority of her injuries involve severe blunt force trauma. The wounds were intended to inflict maximum pain and break her will with the intention of her giving up any information she possesed. Judging by the bruising, however, it appears she spoke of little. It also signifies that her interrogators went too far in their efforts.” Switcher-7 readjusted his hat and gave a quick glance at the gathered elder zebra.

“The second they touched her was when they went too far!” Askari yelled, breathing heavily through his nostrils. “If we had hurried, she wouldn’t have had to go through all that!”

“We don’t have enough information to make those kinds of assumptions,” Long Shot replied. “But believe me when I say that Meteor will make sure they pay dearly.”

Zecora raised a hoof. “I am furious at them too, but their punishment will come when it is due. Let us not allow our heads to grow hot, for you should have time to recover, should you not?” she took a moment to look at the gathered troops, her gaze coming to rest on a certain pegasus.

As if on cue, Clockwork felt a demonic wave of pain course over the entire left side of his body. He went numb, barely managing to lean against the tank’s side to keep from falling face-first into the now wet muck. He struggled to take in air as he realized the source of moisture was his own blood. Dammit, it hadn’t hurt this bad for a while now. He tasted something foul in his throat.

“The wound didn’t look like this earlier,” Charger said, concern filling her voice as she gently turned her friend over to have a better look at his wound. After removing his tattered and soaked bandages, she had to excuse herself for a moment.

“How long’s he had this?” Askari asked.

“No clue.” Clockwork struggled to articulate. “Time gets funny when you’re in a metal box.”

Askari hurried over to Clockwork’s prone form, lowering his head to give the wound an experimental sniff. His muzzle crinkled and he recoiled away from him. “Ugh, that’s infected alright.”

“What?!” Clockwork shouted before dissolving into a coughing fit. “It couldn’t have gotten infected this quickly!” his teammates had looks of equal parts shock and worry.

Zecora took the same action as Askari, but with one slight difference. Instead of a reaction of disgust, her eyes widened with concern and urgency. “The cause of this infection is neither natural nor superstitial. Instead, it is wholly artificial!” at least one of the older mares beside her stepped away from him in fear.

“What?!” Clockwork asked again. “I haven’t come into contact with any hazardous-” the pegasus was cut off as his memories flashed back to what seemed like mere seconds ago. Seastone was acting like anything else would in his position, but he did seem rather. . . skittish.

He was torn from his thoughts as Zecora spoke once more. “The beast that bit you was infected from tooth to gum, it is imperative that we take you to. . uh. . . mum. . .” she looked towards Askari, who nodded and gave a knowing look before gently lifting Clockwork onto his back.

Clockwork didn’t bother to ask what the hay was going on, as he was too busy trying to stay conscious while another ripple of pain tore through him. His vision swam and he tasted the same sourness from before, though much stronger this time.

“Where are you taking him?” Long Shot asked, calm despite recent events.

Askari made sure his cargo was as comfortable as he could get given his current situation, “The best healer in all of Zebrica.”

At that, as if a foul stench rose in the air, many of the older zebras spat and cursed at his words and had to be pulled back by their companions.

“Should we accompany you, sir?" Switcher inquired.

“No. We’ll be fine.”

“What about Mganga?” Long Shot asked.

Askari sighed. “We hate to leave her, but her injuries can be treated by any professional here. This pegasus though, he needs some serious care.”

“What about Captain Fluttershy? Surely she-”

“I don’t care how good that mare is, she isn’t trained to handle this kind of shit.”

Before anypony could respond, Zecora took off into the jungle, followed closely by her brother.

Clockwork could barely stay conscious as Askari sprinted through the jungle. His vision was already bad enough as is, and it being the middle of the night certainly wasn’t helping. Occasionally, he would recoil as the tip of some plant or another flicked his nose, snapping him back to painfully complete alertness. The trio of equines hurried farther into the jungle for some time before Clockwork managed to make out a very distant light source. It certainly wasn’t natural, that much was for sure.

The jungle slowly became enveloped more and more in the soft orange light until it was as though Celestia had just risen the sun, giving the eerily twisted black trees an almost unholy appearance. Clockwork shivered and knew that, if anything, he somehow had been carried to the darkest part of the jungle, closer to where the Everfree started to form on the Zebrican end of its expanse, for there was no other explanation for the unnatural paranoia he was experiencing. Unlike what he remembered from his few trips inside the forest when he was younger (and always accompanied by several armed guards), he could not recognize the sound of a single animal or insect since the appearance of the thorny black trees. As if immune to the pegasus’ discomfort, Askari slowed to a halt and removed Clockwork from his back, passing him off for Zecora to support. It was only now that the half-awake pegasus could get a good look at what was lighting up the entire area.

Before them stood an immense, withered tree the color of pure onyx, large enough in height and width to make even the Everfree’s mightiest oaks seem like saplings by comparison. Oddly shaped windows of stained glass and exotic masks dotted its bark, and bottles of various sizes and colors hung from its many branches. He craned his neck as much as he could, noticing that each mangled branch had strange orange markings engraved deep into the lightning-blasted bark. As he looked down at the gnarled roots that were exposed to the orange light, it finally clicked in his mind that, to his astonishment, the light was coming from within the tree.

Strange, moss-like growths adorned the highest of the tree’s branches, creating an unearthly half-light. Even stranger, the pegasus noticed in his daze, was what looked like a thick pool of glowing sludge surrounding the tree’s roots, shifting in color like an indecisive chameleon. It was a bit difficult to believe that this was inhabited by anything less than some horrible monster, let alone the best healer in Zebrica. Then again, this was Zebrica, next everything he had learned about it in school had been dead-wrong.

Clockwork’s hazy thoughts were cut off as he saw Askari run over to the blackened tree’s front door and pound on it several times with a large forehoof.

“Mom! Open up!” he shouted.

Much to Clockwork’s surprise, a seemingly normal zebra mare opened the door just a few seconds after Askari assaulted it. He couldn’t get a good look at her from this angle, but he was sure that she wasn’t wearing her mane in the standard zebrish mohawk.

“Ah, Askari,” her voice was equal parts mother and sage, “your voice I could recognize as no other, tell me, why is it that you shout at your mother?”

Askari pointed behind him as Zecora and Clockwork stumbled over to his side. With only a few silent nods, the zebra, whom Clockwork finally realized was Zecora and Askari’s mother, trotted over to his other side and helped him into the literal tree house. Askari stayed outside, drawing his bo-staff as his eyes scanned the perimeter, wary for threats only he could perceive.

Clockwork was gently set on something plantlike that vaguely resembled a couch and let his eyes adjust to the organic orange light that illuminated the insides of the treehouse. Zecora carefully let the pegasus’ left foreleg hang over the supposed furniture's side before returning to her mother.

The older zebra spoke first. “It is good to see you again, daughter of mine, you look the same as the last time we met, very fine!”

“Thank you mother Uchawi, but Askari and I did not come here out of spite, for this pegasus is suffering from a dog's poisoned bite!”

The elder zebra’s voice took on a much more serious tone. “Zecora, retrieve my book of healing, I must determine how this pegasus is feeling.”

“I feel like shit,” Clockwork groaned, rolling his eyes as another wave of pain hit him. He didn’t care for politeness much at this point as he did for some form of painkillers.

Zecora gave the pegasus a final look of motherly concern before trotting off to a different part of the home. After she had disappeared from view, the elder zebra finally replied. “I meant that I must determine how to heal you, child. Even with all my experience, having a guide tends to help more then you would believe.”

“Wait,” Clockwork raised a wobbly limb in the air.. “You uh, you didn’t rhyme there.”

The zebra waved a forehoof in the air as she approached Clockwork. “Psh, that?. It’s just a silly old family tradition that Zecora's taken to heart.”

“. . . Okay?” Clockwork let Uchawi looked him over, in turn allowing the pegasus to finally get a good look at the mare. Her mane and tail, while striped, looked like they were made of twine. Clockwork’s eyes widened as he looked at her mane, were those rea-? Wait, no, they were fake spiders, but incredibly realistic ones nevertheless. A beaded necklace that held a mask was hanging around her thin neck, the mask looking like an epileptic cow had tried to paint an angry dragon’s face with its head.

Uchawi’s hooves were broken in several places, but they didn’t seem infected nor did they affect her remarkably gentle touch. Her teeth had several chips out of them as well, but the rest of her didn’t seem too strange, aside from the fact that her coat looked like she hadn’t cleaned it in a month. Underneath the grime, Clockwork could make out a faint pattern on her flank, the same one as Askari, Mganga, and Zecora.

“Wow, that’s nigh septic.” Uchawi stood up and hurried around her room, snatching bottles hanging from the ceiling and tossing them into the massive black cauldron set in the middle of the room. Clockwork didn’t bother to wonder why she didn’t even open the bottles or discard the string attached.

“How could it have gotten this bad so fast?” the pegasus asked. “I was only bitten like, an hour ago at most.”

Uchawi didn’t look up from her work. “Zecora was right, you've been poisoned, boy. I've seen worse, but it stinks of dark enchantments and other foul things.” she glanced over her shoulder. “Speaking of things, I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my long life, but nothing ever came close to this.” Uchawi darted over to Clockwork’s side and tapped his artificial wing a few times. “What is this, anyway? Some sort of crazy newfangled pony creation? Some golem-thing?” she wiggled one of the feathers in curiosity, furrowing her wiry eyebrows.

Clockwork groaned. He needed to make some sort of recording that explained his artificial appendage. “I made it, I didn’t know it would do this, and don’t try to take it off unless you want me dead.”

Uchawi looked up from sniffing the appendage. “Hmm. . . mithril? Huh, that’s something I haven’t seen in some time, some time. Weird metal, really, doesn’t usually do what you tell it to do. Quite sytubborn, actually.”

“Umm. . . what?” Clockwork asked, baffled.

He didn’t get a response. Instead, Uchawi hurried back over to her cauldron, swinging her tail from side to side as she stirred whatever the hay was inside of the massive black pot, whistling a vaguely familiar tune as she did. Clockwork desperately struggled to remain conscious, but even after all of his efforts, he couldn’t help but welcome the open arms of sleep.

Clockwork’s head felt like somepony had taken a mallet to it. He groaned as he slowly opened his eyes and immediately wished he had not.

Ponies boiled in an ocean of their own tears while laughing centaurs poked and prodded them with thorny branches.

Crudely formed beings danced around an idol vaguely in the shape of Luna while the sun slowly grew bloated and red.

Tiny ponies with the wings of butterflies cried out as their bodies warped into blackened husks as the seaponies sang a song of total agony.

Wetwork looked at him, smiling, eyes like green orbs framed with smoky purple magic. She slowly rubbed Haywire's severed head in her lap like it was a purring cat.

Spiders with the heads of serpents wove webs of thickened blood across a dead city that looked like Canterlot.

The Everfree’s hordes hooted and howled as they rampaged across Equestria and beyond.

Celestia scorched Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's flesh from her bones in a burst of pure light and adorned her bleached skull as a helmet.

Blasts of green fire ravaged Equestria and beyond, rending soul from corpse and causing everything to live a half-death for eons, forever burning and screeching in a dead world.

Something like a goat, but more like a pony, in some respects, black as night and sitting in front of an hillside thicket, watched with detached amusement as another shackled pony was brought over to the stone circle by muscular minotaurs and giggling griffons to be added to the corpse pile.

The Draconequi in their chaotic splendor danced and sang to the hole in reality from whence they were born as the true original race obliterated themselves with blasts of pure chaos.

Something old and long dead sat in a corner of a frosty cave, muttering to itself as it traced arcane glyphs into the wall in front of him.

A sea of purple sloshed in a vast nothing, mumbling a single maddening phrase.

Great skyships powered by boiling blood and the screams of the fallen waged war with an army clad under a banner of gold and green.

A great silver-scaled thing, hunched over a hoard of blood-stained gold, howled out her commands as the world was bathed in red.

Charger laughed as she held out an amalgamated lump of tarnished metal and flesh and called Clockwork a father.

Clockwork screamed.

Clockwork did not wake up in a start. No sweating, no fits, no rapid breathing. Rather, he opened his eyes as slowly as he could physically manage. After he had made sure nothing notably horrific and insane was in his immediate area, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“What in the name of all that is decent did that dog put in me?”

“Oh good, you’re finally awake.” Clockwork looked over to find Uchawi trotting towards him, carrying a small black bowl of something. Whatever the hay it was, it was constantly transitioning between pink and green. Clockwork swore it blinked.

“Sleep well?” the zebra asked as she set the bowl on a small tray that had been placed by his - wait, his bed?!

“No, no I didn't.” Clockwork looked at the strange liquid once more before looking around his new room. It didn’t look any different from the rest of the home, except for no cauldron in the center and some framed photos dotting the walls.

“Now why's that?” she gestured towards the concoction that she had prepared. Clockwork reached for it, but met resistance. It didn’t hurt, much, but it felt more like. . .

The pegasus looked at his shoulder, it was thickly wrapped in some sort of green leaves. He shrugged, albeit with difficulty, and instead reached for the soup-esque thing with his unhindered foreleg. He took a large swig of the liquid, and was met with a surprising sensation.

“This stuff is delicious!” Clockwork exclaimed, his mouth half-full. “What is this?”

“A special recipe that's been passed down my family's line for generations.”

“Is this supposed to help with my injuries?”

“I already took care of those. This is just to get something in your belly.” she paused, frowning. “Are you normally this lean or have you just not eaten in some time?”

“Kinda both, really.” Clockwork smiled before he took another spoonful of the delicious fluid.

“You know what? Forget about telling me about your restless night, I’d like to know more about that.” Uchawi prodded at Clockwork’s metal wing. “I’ve seen some unbelievable things in my time, but that right there takes the talking cake.”

“Is that a compliment?” the pegasus raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps.”

Clockwork gulped down another mouthful of his meal. “I assume you want to know all about it?”

Uchawi nodded.

“This may take awhile.”

Clockwork laughed several times during his story. The sight of the elder witch doctor in front of him, her mouth agape, was simply too much. “So. . . yeah.” he finished his story. “That’s about it. Any questions?”

She looked almost amused. “No, your explanation was quite informative.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t get bored and leave.”

“It is good to listen to a story every once in awhile. You should tell that to the others, especially the young ones. I have little doubt they would enjoy it. Speaking of your departure,” Uchawi looked over her shoulder, “it is time that we return you to your friends.”

“Sure.” Clockwork got to his hooves. Surprisingly, he could actually put pressure on his leg again. He couldn’t put his full weight on it, but it was definitely progress. “Thanks for the food, healing, and company.”

“Of course, of course.” Uchawi led him out the door and began walking with him back to the village. “It is not everyday that a zebra meets the Chuma Mrengo.”

Clockwork stopped dead in his tracks. “The what now?”

“Oh, I assumed that you had heard by now?” Uchawi raised a thin eyebrow as she reduced her pace to stay alongside a certain limping pegasus. “You do not know the legend? What are they teaching young colts in Equestria these days?”

“Completely inaccurate information if my experiences count. Again, the legend of the chewy mango what?”

“Now, I must admit I thought it would have been a griffon, or perhaps a young dragon, but I suppose things like that get lost over time. . .”

“Could you please explain?”

The enchantress grinned, her chipped teeth resembled fangs. “Well, it’s rather simple. Legends say that when the creature with a wing of magic metal appears before the tribes in a time of severe hardship, it spells great change for all of the tribes. I doubt many of the elders would enjoy such change, but they will eventually have to face the reality of the situation.”

Clockwork thought on this more, and simply stated, “So there’s no chance that it can’t be metaphorical? Like, could our airship be it?”

The elder zebra simply gave a wide grin and said “No. To be fair, just last week we had five fabled warriors rise up, go out, and fight, and before you ask, one colt born in the mountain tribes two years ago can talk to plants, and no one believed me when I said that was going to happen fifteen years ago; his birth is considered fabled-in-hindsight now.” she took a moment to step over what seemed to be a rather bloated shrub that pulsed oddly in the half-light. “We have a lot of fabled things, actually.” she stopped for a moment, as if to ponder her own words. “I suppose the average shaman truly does have nothing better to do then ask the spirits for things. It’s practically a desk job with air conditioning.”

Clockwork said nothing as the duo kept going. As the silence stretched on, he decided to approach a subject that had been bothering him for a while now.

“I don’t mean to sound like an eager tourist or a clueless filly, but I know next to nothing regarding zebras. Until the start of the war, I had never even seen a zebra in the flesh. Judging by what I've seen, you guys don't seem too happy to be under the same flag. What’s the history about the current alliance between the tribes?”

The enchantress gave a little frown and thought for a moment. “Perhaps it would be best to put it into a tale. You’re a bit older than those who would normally enjoy such things, but considering the length of our walk. . .”

Clockwork shrugged. “Eh, why not?”

“Well, in the lands of Zebrica, long after the reign of the Elephants and such-”

“The who?”

“They’re a great band, but that’s beside the point,” Uchawi muttered half to herself. “Do they actually teach young mares and colts anything in their designated places of learning? I would assume you don't know what a Dromidian is, either?”

“No, I don’t. What are they?”

She scowled, kicking up a bit of dust. “Bah! Never mind, their story is best left forgotten, but I digress. Once, there was a young zebra of great strength who inherited his father’s place as ruler of his tribe, but with a young ruler comes lack of experience, and the tribes formerly under his family’s reign broke away with ease. The warrior was eager to prove his worth to impress the veteran fighters and lesser chieftains his father once kept in place, so he travelled the land and made other tribes submit to his glory.”

Clockwork spoke up. “That sounds more like he openly waged war with other groups and forced them to give him land and supplies.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well yes, but that would scare the foals.”

After Clockwork muttered his agreement, Uchawi started again.

“After many years, the ruler had every tribe of his father’s old lands and more under his control. He had the swift runners of the rolling hills to the north, the hardy nomads of the southern desert and their trained hyenas, the cunning forest-dwellers of his own home, and the savvy ocean-goers and their camel trade partners from across the sea. With more than half the Zebrican tribes under his hoof, the warrior’s tribe became very rich indeed, perhaps greater than the older kingdoms of Rhinos, Karkadens, and perhaps even that of the Hippos-”

“What the hay are Hippos?” Clockwork swore he recognized those names from somewhere, but Equestria had shockingly little historical information on other lands, aside from a bit on Germaney. Prance’s deer were too closed-minded to share their records, and the camels preferred to trade material goods with the zebras rather than history with anypony else. The Griffons were hostile at the best of times, so they weren’t cooperative in the slightest.

“Old creatures, now as rare as the Okapi, not like you would know what they were,” Uchawi answered, almost indulgently at this point.

Clockwork hung his head. He missed the feeling of knowing what his conversation partner was talking about. It came to Clockwork's attention that, even though he regarded himself as mildly intelligent, he knew almost nothing about the lands outside of Equestria’s borders. Ignoring the young colt’s mental battle, the striped mare continued.

“After several years of living in this new kingdom, the young king heard tales from distant travellers that a great jungle tribe, wise in the ways of hexes and curses, grew corrupt after learning old and forbidden magic from a shadow spirit. In response, he rallied all of his allies, from the lowliest potter to the grandest warrior, and had them march north into the darkest parts of the jungle to find and slay these wielders of sorcery and black magic. He lost many fine allies, but soon he had killed all but a single known individual. The seventh daughter of the tribe’s king and his second wife.”

Clockwork knew where this was heading, and he wasn’t sure what to think about it. “That was you?”

The enchantress rolled her eyes once more. “Yes, you impatient colt. Anyway, he was captivated by her charms. Some claim it was true love, others whisper that he was put under a dark trance, but nevertheless, he took her as his only wife.” she gave a wink at Clockwork that made him feel on edge, even with the playful look she had on her face.

“So was your tribe actually, er. . . evil? Or-”

She gave Clockwork a hard stare, but quickly softened her gaze. “No, we were not, but our ways scared other tribes, calling us a group of witches and spirit-callers. Our use of polygamy and our survival inside lands all others considered cursed scared them, and so they eagerly attacked us when united.”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow. “But Zecora rhymes, and she’s well known in Equestria as a shaman. How can she rule if she’s openly using your tribe’s ways?”

The mare sighed, rolling her shoulders as she did. ”She is the ruler of a loose group of tribal nations, each able to survive more or less on their own without the support of a central figure. I suppose many of the elders think there is a dark irony in the barren scion of a dead tribe leading a nation bound by war.” before Clockwork could open his mouth, she quickly added, “Potion accident. Harmless, but very unfortunate.”

The duo did not travel for much longer before Clockwork decided to get a final question responded to. “Excuse me for asking, but why is Zecora so different from her siblings?”

Uchawi gave a whooping laugh. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that. My husband wanted a fighter for a son, so he sent Askari overseas to an academy in Iram to train as a Cataphract there. He might not have like the armor, but fifteen years of running around in plated mail certainly did him good.”

Clockwork laughed and nodded.

“My dear Mganga was never one for spirits or magic, despite all my efforts, so when she came of age she travelled to the southern fringes of the desert to become a healer of spear-wounds and desert poisons, and unfortunately seemed to take in some of their values. Zecora however, she took in every word I said and more! I once caught her attempting to sneak a book away from my collection and read ahead of where we were in her studies!”

Clockwork took that in, and realized he had yet to inquire about something that had been on his mind for some time.

“Mganga called us something when we arrived, and I-”

Before the wounded stallion could inquire any further, Uchawi said “Please, if you have any more questions, ask Zecora’s adorable little helper, Penyelamat. She enjoys telling others about Zebrica, and the poor thing needs to be talked to more.”

After the conversation had faded to simple chatter, the jungle gradually changed back to the lusciously green, semi-friendly environment Clockwork had seen earlier on. The familiar sounds from before returned as well, and in less than an hour, the duo arrived in a small clearing on the outskirts of the village..

The duo hadn’t even made it halfway to the city’s primary hut before they were gradually swarmed by curious zebras, mostly mares and foals. They chattered away to one another in a language that Clockwork recognized but did not understand. However, he did catch the occasional whisper of “Chuma Mrengo” or “Pepo Mke”. Eventually, the duo reached the capital hut of Mji Mkuu/Zecora’s hut/war room. Almost immediately, Clockwork was enveloped in a surprisingly fierce hug from a certain mare.

She was silent for a long time. “Promise me that you will never get bitten again." she broke away, making the mistake of looking over her friend's shoulder. "If you do, so help me I will- GAH!” the yellow earth pony jumped back a good distance. “Are those. . . spiders?”

Uchawi laughed. “Do not worry, young one. These eight-legged accessories are merely detailed models, hoof-crafted by yours truly.”

“I see, and you are?” Charger trailed off, giving the older mare an uncertain look.

“I am Uchawi. Witch doctor, healer, enchantress, and mother of Zecora, Mganga, and Askari. If you have a problem that requires advanced medical expertise, then I am the mare that you should see.”

“If I may inquire, what is the purpose of wearing that mask around your neck?”

“It is a gift from a good friend long gone. . .” Clockwork thought he saw Uchawi’s eyes water, “but those memories should stay in the past. I am here to return Clockwork. He requires two days to fully heal and should not take part in the fighting during that time if he can avoid it. He has already endured much pain, there is no reason to needlessly expose him to more.”

“Understood.” Long Shot looked up from fine tuning his rifle, which had by now been reset to its original configuration.

“We appreciate your assistance, Madam Uchawi.” Switcher, who was still in disguise, nodded towards the witch-doctor. A smile crossed his face.

Clockwork was sure he saw the zebra’s brow furrow even as she nodded at the changeling’s words. Was that suspicion in her eyes? he shrugged. Nah, it’s probably nothing.

After a few minutes with her family, Uchawi left to check on Mganga. The rest of the day passed as normal as it could get while in the middle of a warzone in a foreign jungle. Clockwork relayed his tales of his time with Uchawi and the dream he had and some other information. After a while, Long Shot suggested that they go check on Mganga, though Charger excused herself to take care of some things. They made their way over to a small secluded hut not too far from the center of the village. The zebra standing guard waved them inside, and Clockwork was a bit relieved by what he saw.

Mganga lay on a comfortable looking bed easily twice her size. She was wrapped in bandages, but not nearly as many as Clockwork had expected. She showed no signs of discomfort while she slept, a certain pink-maned pegasus sat by her side, lids half-closed as she murmured some lullaby or another.

“O-oh. Commander!” Fluttershy looked up from her daze, saluting all the while. “Her injuries were severe, but not as life-threatening as we first believed. Umm. . . the doctors say she’ll be up and running by the end of tomorrow..”

Clockwork breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s impressive, and good to hear.”

“Yeah. . .” Long Shot chimed in. “It’s hard watching everypony you meet either die of old age or from some sort of injury sustained in battle. I’m glad she’s safe.”

“To be honest, sir, I believe it is your health that should concern you,” Switcher replied. “Your heart rate increased by a full thirteen percent after we first arrived, and then another ten whenever you are in close proximity to Mganga. Is there something wrong?”

Clockwork blinked several times. The muted shade of pink he thought he saw appear on the commander’s cheeks had disappeared as fast as it had come.

“I appreciate the concern, Switcher, but I’m fine.” the Nocturni smiled. “C’mon. We gotta show Clockwork where he’ll be staying for now.”

“Of course, sir.” Switcher left the hut first, followed closely by the commander and Fluttershy. Clockwork stayed behind. The pegasus looked around the hut and found no sign of Mganga’s staff. A small lightbulb went off in his head. Her weapons had most likely been destroyed, so why not give her a new one? Better yet, what better way to fight the Consortium than with their own supplies? The pegasus reached in one of his jacket’s pockets. He retrieved a golden rod tipped by a blue-white gem set between twin blades and placed it at the striped mare’s bedside, quickly leaving after that.

“Get well, Mganga. Your family and friends need you.”

The trio, after weaving their way through a large number of zebras, eventually made it to a different portion of the village. The area was bordered by a small ring of moderately sized huts, a large fireplace set in the clearing’s dusty center. Unlike the rest of the village, there wasn’t a zebra to be found here.

“Tribe Queen Zecora was kind enough to grant us temporary residence in her village,” Switcher-7 announced. “This is one of the smaller variants of the many living areas spaced around the village. Each hut is large enough to accommodate two equines, but due to recent events, this particular section is empty. Each member of Meteor Squad has been granted their own hut. This one is yours.” the disguised changeling pointed towards a hut that didn’t seem any different from the dozens of other around the village besides a slightly different mosaic decorating its walls.

The pegasus raised an eyebrow. “What about our supplies from the Vikare?”

“We sent her back to Szary after we had unloaded everything the Alliance intended for us to deliver.” Long Shot explained. “Charger dropped your stuff inside.”

“I’ll make sure to thank her later.”

“You’ve got free reign while you’re here. Heal up quick, kid.” the Nocturni began to walk off, followed by his changeling companion. The commander turned back to look at the pegasus one last time. “and that’s an order.”

Clockwork saluted his commander, who returned the gesture of respect. The pegasus limped inside without a second thought after that. The living space was humble and could definitely use a thorough sweeping, but he wasn’t picky. There was a single empty bed located at the back of the room, which seemed a bit out of place, since it appeared far cleaner than the rest of the home. Clockwork recognized his duffle bag laying on said bed, and walked over to it to find a small sheet of parchment resting atop of it. A single elegant C graced its surface. The pegasus flipped it over and read it to himself.

Clockwork,

Get well soon. We all need you in good shape.

That goes double for me.

-C