Chapter Nineteen: World of Ruin

***

January 31st, 2030, 8.02pm.

A troop of tired, weary and downtrodden ponies marched up the ruin of the M62 leading up towards the city of Hull. They trudged in unison, their steps a unified rhythm of trot, trot, trot, a drumbeat that trudged to the mercilessness of their pace. All around them were the ruins of a world: burnt trees, burnt out cars, and (rarely enough that the more inexperienced didn't feel sick), a handful of bodies, left where they fell: ponies and humans alike, most in various states of decomposition.

Each pony in the troop carried a pack with a sleeping bag in it: Iron Gait had told them they'd be issued with other Resistance standard equipment afterwards. They all knew what that meant - their weapons.

On the front row, Twilight Sparkle dared a brief glance to her left, at her friends Rarity, Applejack and Pinkie Pie. The former two were flagging, Rarity looking visibly exhausted and Applejack stoic but dour. Pinkie Pie, on the other hand, looked like the only thing keeping her from bouncing was the grim-faced Sergeant Iron Gait who marched next to her. He caught Twilight's eye and scowled at her.

"Eyes front, Private!" he barked. At once, Twilight shifted her gaze back to the front. She hoped that, wherever they were, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were having a better time of it.

"You ponies look like you're having a rough time of it!" Iron Gait yelled at the marching recruits. "Is this little stroll too much for you're wittle leggy-weggies?"

"Sir, no sir!" everypony called. Already, they knew that any other answer would be... unwise.

"Bullplop!" Gait barked. "You're a bunch of pampered ponies who've never stepped outside your cherry sweet doors to smell the horseapples! I've never seen a sorrier bunch in my life!" He marched a little ahead of the group and turned back to start looking at them. "You! Applejack!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Applejack said in response. Not breaking stride or breaking her forward gaze.

"You're an Apple, right?!" Iron Gait asked.

"Sir, yes sir!" Applejack replied trying not to sound as confused by the question as she felt.

"Bucking Tartarus you are!" Iron Gait swore at her. "I've had Apples in my forces! Braeburn from Appleoosa and Babs Seed from Manehatten both marched this same course, and neither of them looked nearly as worn out as you do now! Are you perhaps an adopted child, Applejack?!"

"Sir, no sir!" Applejack replied, feeling irritated by his insults but knowing better than to show it. "One hundred percent home grown Apple from Ponyville, sir!"

"Are your legs for bucking saplings, little missy?!" Iron Gait added, ignoring her response.

"Sir, no sir!" Applejack yelled. "These are one hundred percent tree bucking legs, sir!"

"Oh, are they?!" Iron Gait yelled, eyes widening in anger. "Then why are you so bucking slow with them?!"

"Sir, I'm marching just fine sir!" Applejack answered without breaking stride.

"'Just fine', huh?!" Iron Gait said, raising an eyebrow. "And do you think 'just fine' will cut it?!"

"Sir, I don't know sir!" Applejack replied.

"Well I do!" Iron Gait yelled. "'Just fine' gets ponies in your squad killed! 'Just fine' is what a slacker says! Are you a slacker, Private Applejack?!"

"Sir, no sir!" Applejack insisted.

"Then put your bucking back into it you little piece of horse manure!" Iron Gait screamed. He fell back into line and Applejack began marching harder, trying her best to look like she wasn't flagging despite her legs starting to feel like they would give out beneath her.

Iron Gait's gaze ran up and down the group, eyes narrowing. Everypony was flagging, their spirits low. He was a hard taskmaster, he always had been, but he wasn't an idiot: he knew when they needed the carrot, as well as when they needed the stick.

Iron Gait turned his attention to Pinkie Pie without breaking stride. "Private Pie!" he snapped.

"Yes sir?!" she barked right back, seemingly enjoying the military discipline almost too much.

"My understanding is that you're a party pony!" Gait barked as they marched. "I take that to mean you know what keeps ponies happy, is that correct?!"

"Sir, I'd like to hope so, sir!" she said happily.

"Would you say a sing along is in order for a platoon of flagging ponies?!" the Sergeant asked.

"Sir, I think that's a brilliant idea sir!" Pinkie said with a grin. "Do you know a song?!"

"Several, Private," Iron Gait replied. "Alright everypony, this one goes on for a while, and the words repeat: you'll be able to follow me eventually!"

He took a breath, not breaking his stride as he began singing:

"This is the song that doesn't end,
Yes it goes on and on my friend.
Somepony started singing it, not knowing what it was,
And they'll continue singing it forever just because,

This is the song that doesn't end,
Yes it goes on and on my friend.
Somepony started singing it, not knowing what it was,
And they'll continue singing it forever just because..."

Pinkie joined in as he repeated the verse a second time, her voice enthusiastic and loud. She too didn't break stride. Twilight, still looking directly ahead, couldn't help but be a little bit happier hearing her friend sounding so happy. On the fourth verse, she joined in, her voice more tired but happier for hearing Pinkie sing.

On the fifth verse, Lyra and True Grit joined in. On the sixth, Applejack, Desert Wind and Private Dipstick as well. Soon, everypony in the troop was singing the silly song over and over, some of them even laughing as they stumbled over the oft repeated words. Iron Gait smiled as he kept singing.

One of the most important things any unit needed was camaraderie, and he hoped that he had just facilitated the first of it today.

***

In a field some seven miles from the city of Hull was where the ponies eventually stopped for the night, their little sleeping bags rolled out onto the grass and themselves positioned in it.

"Alright," Iron Gait said from his own bag. "You've got fifteen minutes before I call bedtime, privates. You wanna talk, do it now."

Almost immediately, ponies started talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. Pinkie Pie, Applejack and Twilight turned to each other in their bags, the latter two looking pensive, while Pinkie looked happy. Rarity was already asleep, snoring softly, the walk having been more physical exertion than she had ever experienced.

"How are you?" Twilight asked them both softly.

"My legs ache more than bucking half of Sweet Apple Acres all by myself," Applejack said with a wry smile on her face, "but apart from that I'm good."

"I'm great," Pinkie said. "This is fun!"

Twilight raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Fun? Fun? You think this is fun?"

"Sure!" Pinkie said chirpily. "Mr Gait acts like a meany pants but it's all so we learn better and quicker. Otherwise he wouldn't have tried the sing along when he saw how tired everypony was."

Twilight thought about it for a moment. "You mean he's giving us some sort of psychological preparation for war by putting us through Tartarus now?"

"Psycho-what now?" Pinkie asked, frowning in confusion. "No silly, he's not doing that. He's just making us do really hard things now so that when we fight it doesn't seem so hard."

"But that's what I..." Twilight began, before facehoofing and sighing. That was just Pinkie for you. "Never mind."

"So you're saying he's doing this to get us ready for fightin', not just with the training but by making us miserable too?" Applejack asked.

"More like training us to deal with physical and emotional hardship," Twilight said, more confident now that she had a grasp on things. "If we can trudge for forty miles, we can fight for ten hours straight: that sort of thing."

"I could have told you that, ma'am," the voice of True Grit interrupted them from a couple of bags over. He was lying back, eyes already closed, and smiling. "It's similar to Guard training in that respect."

"Explains why you're so at home," Lyra muttered tiredly from the bag next to him.

"Are you two ok?" Twilight asked.

"Never better, ma'am," True Grit said with a smile. "This place reminds me of home: discipline and everything."

"I'll live," Lyra added softly. "For now."

Twilight smiled at that. "Hang in there, Lyra," she said. "I get the feeling that it'll get worse before it gets better."

There was a pause.

"Did you see the broken carts and stuff?" Applejack asked after a moment, her tone sombre.

"Yeah," Twilight said, expression downcast. "It was... well." She paused, trying to find the right words. "It's hard to believe, really."

"Of course it's hard to believe," True Grit pointed out from his bag. "Where we come from the idea of war like this is almost unheard of. The idea of ponies being the ones pursuing that kind of war is unheard of, utterly."

"And yet here they did," Twilight finished. "Why? What happened?"

"I reckon the why isn't gonna be important til we've finished taking Solamina down a peg," Applejack said darkly. "Knowing why a pony's hitting you ain't any good when that pony's still hitting you, no matter how much you might wanna know."

"Good point," Twilight conceded. No, knowing what Solamina was doing this for was almost utterly irrelevant. That she was doing it was enough: the 'why' was a question that they could all ask later.

"Alright privates!" Iron Gait yelled, silencing everypony. "Your nattering time is over. Good night!"

"Good night sir!" the ponies called back.

"Sweet dreams!" Gait added, still in the gruff voice.

"Sir, you too sir!" Pinkie Pie called out. Gait raised an eyebrow and allowed himself a small smile, before rolling over and falling asleep.

***

Hull base, February 1st, 2030.

The troop marched into Hull base that morning somewhat refreshed but still tired from their excursion. Unfortunately, there would be no time to rest. The group was immediately gathered at attention in the city centre, near a large statue of a formidable looking woman stood upon a column, with a crown upon her head and a sceptre in her hand. The statue was chipped in places, but seemed largely intact.

"Alright!" Iron Gait said, grabbing everypony's attention. A mare in uniform with a large sack stood . "Now that we're here, I'd like to introduce you all to your super-special someponies!"

Pinkie Pie grinned wildly at that, only for the grin to turn into a puzzled expression when she was given a long dagger from the sack by the mare. The dagger seemed optimised for being held by pony teeth, though the make and length seemed oddly similar to Elliot's daggers. Everypony looked at the weapon with some distaste, except for True Grit.

"This here is your new special somepony, ladies and gentlecolts," Iron Gait said, a grin forming on his face. "This is the adapted Resistance Dagger: designed for optimum holding flexibility. You can hold it in your hoof, you can hold it in your teeth, you can hold it with your bucking unicorn magic if you happen to be a horned ponce!" He looked around the unit. "From here on in, this is your best damn friend. With it, you will kill your enemy. With it, you will defend this country, the human race, and the free ponies of the Resistance. This weapon will be your best damn friend in the world, and I expect you to treat it as such! Am I clear?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" the ponies called out.

"Glad to hear it," Iron Gait said with a grin. "Now then, let's run through some basic facts you plotwipes probably don't know much about. First off: do you know how a pony might prove useful to a human army?" He looked around. "Anypony?"

There was a pause, but not one recruit spoke up.

"Alright then," Iron Gait continued. "It works like this: ponies don't do guns very well. There's theories and other bullplop running around but frankly we need every gun for the folks with opposable thumbs. As members of the Equestrian Resistance, therefore, your job is to use magical support as well as innate pony strength to support your human comrades in a close combat capacity. They fire their guns, and when the Royal Guard close, it is you buckers who have the privilege of caving their smug golden-armoured faces in, as well as introducing them personally to your special someponies there."

Some of the ponies glanced at the weapons in their hooves with a new respect, others with trepidation. Twilight hovered hers in front of her, eyes narrowing at it.

"In this training course, you're gonna learn exactly where to hit a pony hardest," Iron Gait said. "You're gonna gain the endurance to kill ten ponies in a row without so much as running short of breath! When you leave here, you will be ready to fight on the front lines, and you will be ready to win." He looked at the assembled ponies with a frown. "Am I right, privates!"

"Sir, yes sir!" they shouted back.

"You're darn right I am," Gait muttered. "Now then..." He paused as Pinkie Pie raised a hoof. "Private Pie, a question?"

"Yes sir!" she said with a smile. "Where's the cake, sir?"

"Excuse me, Private?" Gait asked with wide eyes.

"The cake you mentioned when we set off sir," Pinkie continued, tilting her head slightly. "You said there was cake here. That's why we were coming."

Twilight felt the urge to facehoof, but restrained herself once again. The Sergeant looked torn between to serious rage and the desire to laugh out loud.

"Well, I'm sorry Private Pie," Iron Gait finally said. "It seems I just plain forgot to radio ahead, and they won't be able to bake us any cakes for today. Ain't that a gosh darn shame."

"You mean... there is no cake?" Pinkie asked, eyes wide in horror. "The cake is a lie?!"

A moment later, Iron Gait was suddenly stood next to her, and he slapped her upside the head sharply, a scowl on his face.

"The cake is indeed a lie, Private!" he said sharply. "You're gonna have to get used to there being no cake in this army! You're gonna have to get used to there being a heckuva lot of things not being in this army, so much so that by the time you see cake again! you will know it for the darn luxury it is!"

"Aw," Pinkie said, pouting slightly. "But I love cake." She paused for a moment, then coughed. "Sir," she hastily added.

Iron Gait, his eye twitching decided to ignore her, instead turning to face the other ponies.

"Alright ponies," he said, smiling in a slightly unpleasant way that made the ponies think something... less than nice awaited them. "There might not be the cake Private Pie wants so badly, but there's some delicious army rations waiting for you all in the canteen. Let's move it out!"

***

February 4th, 2030.

The troop of ponies jogged down the small suburban road, the ruined houses surrounding them like a kind of graveyard for buildings, many of them reduced to burnt out skeletons and piles of rubble. Iron Gait jogged next to his troop, adjusting his pace every so often so as to be jogging next to anypony who needed his unique brand of encouragement.

"Keep it up you buckers!" he yelled at Sapphire Steel and Private Dipstick. "I know you can do better, so do better!"

"Sir, yes sir!" the two of them shouted, redoubling their efforts. Gait jogged up to be next to a True Grit.

"So you think you're a hard pony, huh?" Gait asked, practically yelling in Grit's face. "You think being a Royal Guard taught you jack diddly about being in my army?!"

"Sir, no sir!" True Grit replied not changing his expression nor his pace. He knew better than to answer any such questions in the affirmative, his memory of his own Sergeants all too fresh in his mind, though they had never been quite so vulgar as this pony.

"Well buck me, here's a regular know it all, ponies!" Gait said to the troop. "Knows all about soldiering from his days guarding a peaceful palace and kissing Celestia's royal flank! Would you like to teach the troop for a change! Recruit Grit? Think you could do it better than me?!"

"Sir, no sir!" Grit called out.

"Good!" Gait said with a smile. "Then you're learning something, chick pea."

Private Dipstick flinched slightly at the name the Sergeant used. He missed his own name. Still, he knew better than to take issue with Iron Gait.

"And what about you, Private Sparkle?" Gait said, jogging next to a Twilight and Lyra, who were at the head of the troop. "You reckon you're some big shot magic unicorn, Recruit Twilight Sparkle?!"

"Sir, no sir," Twilight said.

"Bullplop! You're meant to be the Element of Magic," Gait snapped. "You telling me you don't think you could take an old Earth Pony like me with your fancy magics?!"

"Sir, I wouldn't like to try, sir!" Twilight said.

"Well, horseapples, looks like you have a brain after all Sparkle," Gait said with a nasty grin. "And here was me thinking you were just some sort of parrot pony who repeated everything she read in a bucking book!"

Twilight ignored the jibe.

"Do you read books, Twilight Sparkle?!" Iron Gait asked.

"Sir, yes sir!" Twilight replied.

"Do you love books?!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Are you gonna marry a book and have three point five little paperbacks with that book?!" Gait asked, yelling in her ear.

The implication stung slightly, and Twilight had to blink back shock at it.

"Sir, no sir!" she said after a moment.

"Bullplop, I bet you have a special somebook back home just dying to see you again!" Iron Gait pressed. "I bet you go to sleep every night having dreams about that book! I bet you're gonna jump that books bones the minute you get home!"

"Sir, no sir!" Twilight shouted, getting slightly riled by the insults the Sergeant was throwing at her.

"Well good," Iron Gait yelled back, "because as of this moment, you can kiss your beloved books goodbye! You aren't gonna be some timid little bookworm in my troop, Sparkle, I expect you to be as much of a mean, lean, pony killing machine as any other soldier! Is that bucking clear?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Twilight yelled.

"Glad to bucking hear it!" Iron Gait yelled. He turned to the rest of the jogging squad. "I want you all to look around as you jog, you buckers! Look at these houses and burnt out cars!"

The ponies did so, taking in the skeletons of buildings and the ruined transports. It was an entirely morbid sight.

"It's things like this that are the reason we fight!" Iron Gait yelled. "Pony kind did this, led by the Tyrant! I don't know about you buckers, but I am not about to let the name of pony kind go down as that of a genocidal race of friendship hating lunatics! What about you?!" Iron Gait's gaze swept up and down the line. "Are you willing to let pony kind be remembered as a race of monsters?!"

"Sir, no sir!" everypony yelled as one. None of them were: none of them could look at this horror, look at this death, without feeling sick. Ponies had done this. Ponies had been responsible for this destruction. How many men, women and children had died horrible deaths because of the madness of Astra Solamina... and because of the ponies who helped her?

"Will you fight to free Equestria from the mad Tyrant?!" Iron Gait asked them, still yelling.

"Sir, yes sir!" everypony yelled with conviction.

"Darn right you will!" Gait barked. "You're gonna do your darn best in this training, you are gonna become lean mean pony killing machines, and when I send you out there I will send you out there ready to fight Astra Solamina her gosh darn self and buck her right in her smug face! Is that clear?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" the ponies yelled.

"Alrighty then!" Iron Gait yelled, looking almost pleased. "Keep it up you buckers! I want you to get back to base double time! Move, move, move!"

"Sir, yes sir!" the ponies yelled back at him, increasing their pace. All of them now felt a little more certain about their task here, especially the newcomers. This run hadn't just made them more physically fit: it had shown them up close exactly what it was that they were fighting for..

***

The Mindscape.

Elliot span around, blocking blow after blow from the knight. He could not rightly say how long the two of them had been sparring, but he knew that it had been a long time. Impossibly, his arms were aching from the effort of swinging Excalibur for so long, despite how light the blade felt.

"You are wavering!" the knight told him, swinging it's own blade in a downwards arc, only to be blocked by Excalibur.

"Never!" Elliot said angrily. "I will never waver!"

"You have wavered!" the knight said. "You have wavered and your wavering dooms an island! You are a failure! The power of the Avatar should never have been yours!"

"What would you have me do?!" Elliot yelled, pushing his opponent back and lashing out. "I've tried my best to use the power!"

"You have allowed the power to use you!" the knight retorted. "You have allowed it to claim your body, and use you without your own direction! This was not what Arthur did! This was not the way of the Avatars of old!"

As the knight spoke, it lashed out again, and Elliot blocked the blow, before riposting, driving his opponent further back.

"Then what should I do?!" Elliot yelled at the knight, bringing Excalibur down in an overhead hack. The knight blocked the blow and kicked out, driving Elliot back.

"You must channel the energy more," the knight said. "Yu just claim it as your own. It is not a brute force weapon, to be set off, thrown and then hope that one destroys one's targets! The Avatar is a blade: a precision weapon, elegant and clean. When one is the Avatar, one's task is to be a precision instrument of the vengeance and justice of a nation! Yours is greater still: you are the vengeance of a world! Vengeance is not some crude thing: vengeance is precise, it is methodical, it is clean and it is swift!"

The knight lowered his blade slightly.

"You are the Avatar," it said to Elliot. "The weakness of the flesh is no obstacle to you. You are a knight of your people, a symbol of hope. It is your solemn duty to fight for them, but you cannot fight for them if you don't know how to. That is why I am here: you must learn to home the Avatar's power: you are not an explosion, you are a sword, and as a swordsman whets his blade, so I will sharpen you!"

Elliot breathed hard, before raising Excalibur again into a guard position, smiling as the knight did the same.

"How do we begin?" he asked.