Chapter Forty Five: The Battle of Ponyville.

***

Canterlot Palace. June 6th. Year 6 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2030).

Iron Shield, Lieutenant of the Thirteenth Equestrian Home Guard, didn’t resent his position as a glorified sentry at all. Truth be told, Iron Shield thought himself rather lucky especially when he was compared with some poor buckers.

He had been a Guard for almost twenty years. His entire career had been a case of glorified standing around doing nothing - they called it “Guard duty”, but really it was just a case of wandering up and down, shining a horn-light occasionally at some dark corners during the night shift and generally looking intimidating.

This whole “war” nonsense was frankly somewhat out of Iron Shield’s experience, and while he didn’t think it was necessarily unjustified (of course it was justified - who were those bucking humans to go around thinking they had the right to defy Empress Solmina like that?) he still thought it was a big nasty mess that was really the business of those horrible Convie buckers to fight. That was why he was glad that he was assigned to the newly subdivided “Home Guard”, a division of Royal Guard who, it had been decided, were not fit for front line duty any more. All he had to do here was pretty much all he had done before, which was wander around and shine lights at dark corners. Nope - the war wouldn’t come here. It never did…

“Guards!” he heard somepony call. “Intruders! Intruders in the -!”

He frowned as the voice was cut off with a fast sounding swish and a wet sounding thunk. He turned around, frowning in the general direction of the corridor behind him… and then promptly evacuated himself into his uniform.

A tall, furious looking bipedal figure - a human - was standing less than twenty feet in front of him, wielding a giant sword that glimmered in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Behind him were a number of angry looking ponies, one of whom looked horribly like Commander Twilight Sparkle of all ponies!

“Hi,” the tall man said with a grin.

“Who… who are you?” Shield asked, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over his voice.

“We’re space invaders from Mars, come to probe your anuses for science! What do you fucking think?” a yellow Earth Pony in a trenchcoat snapped, frowning.

“Drop your weapon,” another Earth Pony, this one an old stallion with a leather coat on, said gruffly. “We don’t want to have to kill you if we don’t have to.”

Iron Shield took one more look at the group, trying to figure out the best way to respond to this.

He then promptly fainted dead away.

***

“Well,” Hell Blazer said with a grin. “That was easy.”

“That won’t be the worst we meet,” the Doctor said, an eyebrow raised at the unconscious Royal Guard. “More will come, and the alarm will have been raised by now.”

There was a noise behind him, and he turned to find Sir Elise and her knights jogging up behind them.

"The portal is gone, my liege," she said earnestly. "None discovered it before it vanished."

"Good to know," Elliot said with a grin.

"I'm surprised none of them have raised an alarm," another knight said idly.

There was a sudden blaring noise like a single klaxon, and the entire Palace building rumbled as though the Canterhorn itself were shaking. The knight had the decency to look vaguely shamefaced.

"That'd be the alarm then," Elliot quipped.

“Good,” Desert Wind grunted, frowning at the unconscious Guard as though by being so easy to get round he was some kind of personal affront. “I don’t like sneaking around.”

Elliot looked around. This was definitely Canterlot, alright, if the descriptions Resistance ponies had given him were anything to go by. He looked at Twilight.

"Canterlot?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, looking around with an odd expression on her face somewhere between recognition and sadness. "We're in the lower levels though."

“Ok,” Elliot said, trying to sound less than hurried. “Do you have any idea where a shield spell might end up being cast from?”

Twilight frowned thoughtfully, considering the question. “I’m not sure - maybe one of the astronomy towers?”

“Then we’ll start there!” Elliot decided quickly. “Lead on!”

Twilight nodded urgently. “Follow me!”

She raced off, most of her friends hot on her heels. Behind them trailed the Doctor, Hell Blazer and Elliot, the knights keeping pace behind the Avatar as though keeping a respectful distance from the man upon whom their entire order was based.

Elliot couldn’t help but grin as they charged - this was where the fun began!

***

Plymouth - portal transition area.

King William of Britain directed another squad through the portal, pointing the tanks and jeeps in the right direction. By now, a steady stream of vehicles was on the move, tearing up dirt as they went. The troops looked more energised than William thought he had ever seen from any soldiers during this war, though he supposed it was the feeling of finally, after six years of hopeless defence, now taking the offensive and bringing the fight to those who had hurt the human race so.

“Father!” a young voice called out. William turned, shocked from his thoughts, to find himself facing his young son, George. He frowned slightly in confusion.

“What are you doing here, George?” he asked.

“I heard you were going with the soldiers," the boy said.

"I..." William said, and then he sighed. "Yes, I am. I have to."

"No!" George said at once. "You can't! You'll die, just like grandfather and Uncle Harry and..."

"George," William said, holding out a hand to placate his son. He sighed and walked over to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

George looked up, frowning in confusion. "Why, father?"

"Because," William said quietly, "it is the duty of a King to follow his subjects to whatever end. If I don't go... I'll disgrace the memory of everyone in our family who has done their duty in time of war. I won't do that."

George sniffed, before nodding. "I understand. In that case," he added, frowning determinedly, "take me with you!"

"No," William said sternly.

"But I can fight, father!" the boy said. "I've had training, I'll..."

"You are the heir to the throne," William said, "and you will wait here. If I don't return, you are the King. Our family must not perish in this war. If I don't return, you will be the man who leads this nation in spirit. You will be the last symbol of our national identity left. The people will need you."

"But I need you!" the Prince said, and William smiled.

"My son," he said quietly, "you are a man now. A young man, but a brave man and an honourable one. I believe you can lead this nation without me. I believe in you."

George looked as though he was about to cry, but he marshalled himself. He stood straighter, now looking his father in the eye.

"I won't let you down, father," he said quietly.

"You never have," William replied. The two shared a last hug - William didn't know whether he would survive, but he would be damned if he didn't let his son know exactly how loved he was before he left.

***

Ponyville.

The Night Guard belted across the ground between where the portal had opened and the small village of Ponyville, their armour glinting beneath the sun, their banners waving. Though Ponyville was not well defended, there was still a small Militia force present, as well as a tiny Royal Guard garrison, and though they couldn’t have had more than a few moments of warning, these forces had already arrayed themselves in something like a standard Equestrian battle-formation. The Night Guard, equipped as old-school as their former counterparts in the Royal Guard, were about to clash headlong into them.

At the head of the great force of Night Guard, Blueblood couldn’t help but feel a certain exhilaration - he couldn’t have explained it to anyone, but he felt more alive at this moment than he had in years, like he could do anything.

“For free Equestria!” he bellowed as they charged, pushing his legs to carry him even faster. His lungs were on fire, his leg muscles felt like they would snap under the pressure, and he didn’t care!

Behind him charged Dinky, True Grit and Lyra. Dinky Doo was in a polished a set of Night Guard armour as her commander, but where he was exhilarated, she was grim and stern - this was not some fun exercise. This was divine justice for the death of her mother.

“For Ditzy Doo and Grey Squadron!” she yelled, pushing herself too until she was level with Blueblood at the head of the Night Guard.

True Grit and Lyra were both silent as they followed these two madponies. In Grit’s head, he tried to disassociate the Royal Guards ahead from those he had served with what seemed like years ago. Lyra, on the other hand, just found herself wanting to kill her enemies - seeing Ponyville so changed made her feel a great, fiery anger that she couldn’t quench, and it gave her limbs strength that she hadn’t known they could have.

Ahead of them, the Royal Guard and Militia tensed, preparing to receive the charge of the Night Guard. Spears were pointed forward. Swords and other blades were readied. Unicorns charged spells.

Suddenly, the Royal Guard and Militia found themselves being strafed by hails of unstoppable firepower. A great whirring noise swept over the charging night Guard, coming to rest over the Equestrian forces. It was a trio of battle-helicopters, machine guns firing loudly into the crowd of Equestrian soldiers. Cheers went up from the Night Guard line as the Equestrian forces broke under the unexpected attack. A handful of spells shot out at the helicopters, but none of them managed to do anything.

A moment later, the Night Guard impacted the shattered line of Royal Guard who had managed to hold their ground. Ponies impacted spears with wet thunks, bones crunched and armour crumpled. Blueblood let loose a bolt of magic that all-but incinerated a Pegasus Guard who had been standing in front of him, before ramming into another pony with a loud crash of metal on metal. He knocked his opponent to the ground and, yelling madly, stomped on his enemy’s head, the other pony’s skull giving way with a wet crunching sound and his eyes widening under the blow, staring off at something nopony else could see. Breathing out heavily and yelling again, Blueblood charged into the melee. At no point did he notice the horrendous mess that had now been left over his previously immaculate armour, coat and mane, which was probably for the best.

True Grit fired off a concussive explosive spell that knocked a good four or five ponies off of their feet. Charging headlong into the melee, he knocked another to the ground, before spinning and bucking with his hind legs, feeling bone break under his hooves. Grimacing, he turned and threw another spell off, blowing a gory chunk out of another Guard. Next to him, Lyra let loose fire spell after fire spell, driving her enemies before her and screaming like a lunatic, her eyes wide and maddened.

Further along the line, Dinky ducked under blades, moving faster than her bigger and bulkier opponents, her horn glowing as her own blade, a midnight-black short sword, whipped out and lacerated throats and limbs, stabbing and cutting like a stinging (albeit lethal) fly.

The Royal Guard claimed their kills too, of course: a good dozen Night Guard had run straight onto well aimed spears and been impaled, and more were falling, inexperienced recruits being killed by better trained and more experienced Guardsponies. The sheer numbers, however, were quickly beginning to tell on the Royal Guard.

Worse still for the beleaguered Imperial forces, human soldiers had begun landing, laying down sprays of carefully controlled fire that killed half a dozen ponies with every burst, driving the remaining fighters on like cattle. Knights of Albion, dressed in uniforms that seemed a combination of bits of old plate armour and the rubber and kevlar suits of the main BDF, drew longswords and charged into the fray. Dead Men soldiers came up from behind the Night Guard, disciplined, faceless and intimidating in their gas-masks and trenchcoats. Within a few minutes, the Royal Guard ranks broke, and they retreated into Ponyville itself.

“Yes!” Blueblood screamed from the front line, covered head to toe in muck and filth. “Take that you buckers! For Freedom! For Equestria!”

Dinky came up behind him; her own armour was rent and dented and she had a nasty bruise over one eye, but she was otherwise unharmed. She put a hoof on his shoulder.

“Sir? Are you alright?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive,” the Prince replied with wide eyes. “I should have done this months ago!”

***

Mayor Mare of Ponyville hated this war. She had never been brave enough to flee the country - neither with Doctor Hooves’ Exodus, nor with the caravans, nor with anything else. She told herself that her staying was less to do with cowardice and more to do with the fact that she could do more good for the citizens of Ponyville by staying, but the truth was that if she had ever been thinking about the citizens of Ponyville she would have stood up to Twilight Sparkle when she had factories and Converted barracks and a dozen other ugly buildings put here. She would have spoken out against disappearances, against ponies being arrested and ordered to the Iron Wall, against everything that had gone wrong.

Still, much as she hated Solamina’s regime and everything that had changed… she had never wanted war on the streets of Ponyville itself. And yet now it seemed that was precisely what she was going to get.

“Mayor Mare!” came a panicky voice. “Mayor Mare!”

From outside Mare’s office came her adjutant, a strangely-accented green Converted Unicorn who called herself Schöne Blumen.

“What is it, Blumen?” Mare asked. She had never been able to pronounce the Converted’s first name.

“The enemy are at the edge of the town!” Blumen yelled. “They’re tearing the garrisons apart!”

“Calm down, Blumen,” Mare said tiredly. She half considered how she would deal with this - technically, she was still in charge of the town. “Have a white flag run up over the library and tell everypony who isn’t a combatant to gather there.”

“But what about…” Blumen said, but Mare cut her off with a sharp glare.

“We won’t risk the ponies of Ponyville,” she said. “I’ll wait here for them. No trouble, though - I don’t want any deaths that aren’t needed.”

“Mayor Mare, our duty is to fight the invaders!” the Converted said, all too earnestly.

“That is the job of the military,” Mayor Mare retorted. “And they are being ‘torn apart’. How do you think civilians would fare?!”

“But…”

“No buts, you stupid Convie bucker!” Mare snapped. She composed herself. “You have your orders, Miss Blumen.”

“Y-yes, Mayor Mare,” Blumen said quietly. “But what about warning Canterlot?”

Mare sighed. She had hoped that Blumen would have forgotten that was necessary by protocol, given just how much she was panicking. Still - protocol was protocol.

“You know what to do, Miss Blumen,” she said quietly. Blumen nodded and raced to the balcony of Mare’s office. A moment later, a bolt of light shot from her horn, racing into the sky before exploding in a multicoloured burst of light.

Mare’s eye was drawn to distant Canterlot. A moment later, a similar flare of light exploded atop one of the towers of the city, signalling that the message had been received. And then, as though something was melting or spilling over the top of the city, a purple shield began forming, starting at the very highest point over the city and spilling down the sides to form a great purple ball, impenetrable by any force.

“Well,” Mare said quietly. “Now we wait.”

***

The Interdiction, ponderous and slow, flew through the portal. Behind it, Grey Squadron and Upsilon Squadron came. Nearby, more helicopters, escorted by ponies from Green, Blue, Alpha and Sigma Squadrons came flying.

It was strange, flying through the portal: one moment, they were in British air, seeing the portal ahead as a target and then all of a sudden...

... they were home.

Errant Flight could see the Canterhorn, the distant Canterlot glinting as a giant purple shield materialised into existence. He could see the Everfree Forest and Ponyville. He could see home, Cloudsdale, once proud and fair, now merely a toy for Solamina to play with, just as all of Equestria was.

Errant grinned as the Pegasi Squadrons flew - to feel Equestrian air again! Air that was something he could master, control even… the subtle difference wasn’t anything he could ever have explained to a non-Pegasi, and not even that many Pegasi felt it, but he always had. Earth’s air wasn’t home. It didn't quite bend to the will of a Pegasus the way the air here did, it didn't support in the same way. Sometimes in the early days, it had surprised him that Pegasi could even fly there.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of thoughts. He needed to prepare himself for battle.

“All flights,” came the voice of the Interdiction’s Captain, a forest green Earth Pony that Errant had spoken to briefly named Green Grass, though he would be going by the callsign ‘Interdiction One’ for this battle. “This is Interdiction One. Comm test, sound off by Squadron.”

“Grey Squadron, check,” Errant said quickly. The other Squadron leaders quickly called in their own readiness:

“Eagle, on station.” Eagle Squadron's leader sounded stern and efficient.

The leader of Sigma Squadron was a different matter. “Sigma, here," was snapped out in a slightly nervy tone, his voice reedy and tense.

“Alpha, ready.” Alpha Squadron's leader was a sombre older pony, who sounded weary and experienced.

“Upsilon, standing by," Grey Fox threw out. He sounded more confident than Errant Flight had ever heard him.

“Blue, ready and able," came the almost eager voice of Blue Leader.

“Green, ready to go," added the less calm voice of Green Leader.

The imperious and cold voice of a mare spoke next. “Gold, at your command.”

“Theta, standing by," added another mare's voice, though this one was less calm, sounding tense but ready.

“Switch to local channels and sound off,” Interdiction One said tersely. “Good luck flyers.”

Errant Flight switched his comm to local channels as ordered. “All flyers, this is Grey Leader. Sound off please.”

“Grey Two, here,” Dream Flyer said quickly.

“Grey Three, standing by,” Ditzy’s voice came. She sounded oddly calm considering the situation.

“Grey Four, ready and willing!” Dark Wing said, his voice full of anticipation. Errant could hardly blame him: today, he would get to avenge Swift Wing and Little Wing, his cousins who had died over Manchester, just as Errant would get to avenge Cloud Ranger and the others from Grey Squadron who had fallen.

“Grey Five,” came the reliably sturdy voice of Solid Hoof, a tiny bit thicker than normal, almost as if he were trying not to sound emotional at seeing Equestria again. “Here.”

“Grey Six on station,” said the Thestral, Fell Spear. His voice was clipped and professional.

“Grey Seven, standing by,” White Blossom said, her voice quiet, as though being here in Equestria had somehow made her unable to speak louder than that.

“Grey Eight, here,” came Pure Heart’s voice, the normally antagonistic mare sounding a little less so.

“Grey Nine,” Star Blitz added. “Ready and able.”

“Grey Ten here,” Bright Wonder said quickly.

“Grey Eleven standing by,” came Lily Picker’s voice, sounding slightly less nervous now that she was a little more experienced with the Squadron.

“Grey Twelve here,” the calm voice of Mellow Air finished, the mare gliding almost easily in formation.

“Grey is a go,” Errant reported. He heard the other squadrons report similarly. Everypony was ready for this, the final battle.

“No sign of organised aerial resistance at presence,” Interdiction One said. “Waiting for orders from command on the ground.”

“Roger that,” Errant said, trying not to sound worried or annoyed. ‘Command on the ground’ was Prince Blueblood, who wasn’t exactly known for sensible decision making prior to the war. Errant only hoped he was less of a plotwipe than he remembered.

***

Canterlot Palace.

"Down here," Twilight said, leading the group down another corridor. Sighing, the rest of the group followed her, keeping up with the speeding unicorn as best they could.

For the last five minutes, the group had been trying to reach the exit to the lower part of the palace, but Twilight's skill at leading them was lost upon the horrible realisation that this entire section of the palace had been extended and modified. Where once these parts had held quarters for servants and tertiary libraries, now there were dungeons and torture chambers.

"What manner of ponies could possibly work in a place like this?" Rarity asked as they proceeded down another corridor, this one full of empty dungeons.

"I don't rightly know," Applejack replied grimly, looking around the place in disgust. "But I'll tell ya'll this: I'd like to have a word."

Fluttershy was at the rear of the group - despite being more confident now than she had been, this was still enough to shock and disturb her into some semblance of her old, quiet self. Rainbow was with her, and the two were having a murmured conversation

"You and half the Resistance," Desert Wind commented. "But I know who runs this place - this is..."

They were suddenly distracted by a loud, strangled moan of pain.

"What was that?!" Twilight asked shocked. "Most of these dungeons have been empty!"

"We're not here to free prisoners," Hell Blazer pointed out impatiently. "The sooner the shield goes down the better."

"We don't even know it went up," Elliot replied, frowning at him. "All we know is the internal alarm is up. I don't think they've thought to look down here yet." He paused. "And if we can free any prisoners, I fully intend to."

He looked around before turning to Sir Elise.

"I want your group to keep searching for an exit," he said. The knight looked less than happy about being sent off.

"Our place is with you, my liege," she said.

"Your place is to follow orders," Elliot replied. "You have them. Carry out my instructions."

Elise looked as though she wanted to protest some more, but then she sighed and bowed. "As you wish, my liege."

She turned to her knights and signalled for them to follow her, and they jogged down the corridor and out of sight. Elliot sighed: he didn't exactly like having warriors like that who devoted themselves to him, and the fact was he was fairly certain they were really more devoted to Albion.

"Where's the prisoner then?" he asked, turning back to his group.

"Here," Springfield called over to them, the Converted Dead Man standing by a locked door with no windows. "The moaning came from in here."

"Stand back," Elliot said. He swung Excalibur in a narrow downward arc and the door splintered like cheap stunt-glass. "Go."

Springfield entered first, horn lit. A moment later, he rushed out before rushing to an empty and open cell to evacuate his stomach.

"What was it?" Twilight asked, frowning as she moved to enter the room.

"D-don't!" Springfield choked out, but it was too late. Rarity and Applejack right behind her, Twilight entered the little cell and fired a small light spell that hung in the air, throwing the contents of the room into horrible relief. Applejack gagged and ran out to follow Springfield, leaving the two unicorns alone.

A figure was chained to the wall. It wasn't a pony - purple scales and what might have once been dexterous claws attested to that. One of it's arms looked like it had been sewn on, and there was definite scarring as if the arm had been blasted off. The head lolled to the side, eyes wide and staring at nothing the ponies could see. The teeth were yellow and red, stained in blood and the Pony God only knew what else. It looked dead, but it clearly wasn't - the limbs twitched, even the lolled head jerking every so often somehow.

And then it's eyes flicked up to look at the ponies.

"R-r-r-r-r-r-r-raaaaaarrrr..." it said, it's voice nothing more than a pained, hoarse croak. "Raaaaaaaarreee..."

"Oh no," Twilight said, her eyes widening and tears brimming as she realised who this was. "S-Spike?"

"What's in there?" they heard Rainbow's voice speak.

"Don't!" they heard the voice of Springfield snap. "Don't go in there. Just don't."

"I don't get it," Rainbow muttered. "Hey Twi!" she called. "What's in there?"

"Do as he says, Rainbow," Twilight called back, her voice breaking slightly. "Keep the others out too."

There was a pause, and Twilight held her breath, hoping her friends wouldn't have to see this.

"'K then," Rainbow said, now somehow sounding convinced, though whether by Twilight speaking or her tone of voice nopony could say. Twilight didn't care - she was busy looking over... what was left of Spike.

He was older than when Twilight had known him by a couple of years, maybe his limbs were a tad longer, but it was recognisably him. Rarity closed her eyes for a moment, horrified by what she was seeing. Behind Rarity and Twilight, the Doctor entered, his eyes wide in horror.

"He was killed," he said, his gravelly voice no more than a whisper. "When I escaped, he was killed."

"But... but he's alive..." Twilight said, her voice breaking with sobs. "Sweet Celestia, what have they done to him...?!"

"I don't know," Rarity said, her voice a whisper. "But I don't think he's alive anymore, Twilight." Her hoof extended, her own horn lit up. "Look."

Twilight followed Rarity's horn light, and she gasped in further horror as she saw that both the dragon's legs ended at the knees. The bone was yellowed and exposed, and Twilight could swear she could see necrosis of some kind, almost as if...

"No," she said again, her eyes widening in even more horror. "They didn't, tell me they didn't."

"Necromancy," the Doctor said, his own eyes widening in surprise. "The practice of restoring the dead to some semblance of animation. Fascinating. It usually..."

"I know about Necromancy, thank you very bucking much!" Twilight snapped. "What I want to know is how can we help him?!"

"There is no way," the voice of Elliot spoke. The man stepped in, his eyes frowning in concern at the dead dragon, the little voice-box of the poor thing still growling out. He stepped in front of the dragon and knelt in front of him. "Can you hear me?"

The dead eyes of the Necromancy-raised body still locked onto Twilight and Rarity, something sparking in the otherwise dead flesh.

"Spike the dragon!" Elliot snapped. The eyes quickly looked at Elliot. "Can you hear me?"

The eyes moved back to Rarity and Twilight, and if Spike had heard him, he made no sign.

"R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-raaaaaarreeeeee... eeeeeee... teeeeeeee..." the little voice croaked, sounding as pained as anypony had ever heard anything sound. It tore at Rarity's heart to think that, after all he had suffered... even in whatever horrid half-life this was, he still thought of her first.

"Celestia's sake!" she snapped. "There must be something we can do!"

"There is," Elliot said quietly. He stood up, moving Excalibur to a high guard as though he were about to behead someone, the blade almost glowing in the dark room. "We end it."

"No!" Twilight and Rarity yelled together.

"I'm not just killing him!" Twilight yelled. "Not when we can help him!"

"We can't!" Elliot snapped. "We have no time. Maybe if we had time, but..."

"No," Hell Blazer's voice spoke. He stepped forward, his face half in shadow from the various light sources. "This kind of Necromantic work? Looks like he's been killed more than once and they brought him back again. Look closer." His hoof pointed at the legs. "They'll have done that to stop him escaping. The arm was sewn on. There's marks that look like internal damage. If we moved him, we'd be lucky if he didn't fall apart in our hands - hooves." He grimaced. "This is nasty."

Twilight and Rarity exchanged glances of horror - this was worse than they could have imagined.

"That settles it then," Elliot said, raising Excalibur again.

"No!" Twilight snapped, and Elliot paused again, looking down at her. She looked up at him, her expression grim and stoic. "I'll do it. I'm his sister. I raised him. I owe him this."

"You'll have to completely destroy the body," Hell Blazer said, sounding oddly subdued for the normally loud and brash Converted. "Otherwise they can bring him back again."

"I understand," Twilight said. "Leave. All of you."

Elliot said nothing, but he put a hand on Twilight's shoulder as a gesture of solidarity. She smiled weakly.

"I'll stay," Rarity said firmly, her eyes watering. "He deserves that much."

"Alright," Twilight said quietly. "Ok."

She turned to Spike. His eyes locked on hers, the small spark in them flaring up.

"Twwwwwwwiiiiiiiiii... liiiiiiiiiiiiiiight..." he said, his voice still a croak, but now full of something almost like... anger? Fear?

"I'm gonna free you, Spike," she said quietly. "I'm going to set you free."

"Fr-fr-frrrrrrr... eeeeeeeeeeeee.....?" the corpse-dragon croaked. "Frrrrr... eeeeeeee... k-k-k-k-k-kiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllll... m-m-meeeeeeeee..."

"That's right Spike," Twilight said quietly, trying not to break. "I'm going to... to kill you."

Spike said nothing more, but his dead eyes closed and he let out what could almost have been a contented sigh.

"Can you... can you actually... d-destroy his body, Twilight?" Rarity asked.

"Dragons are tough," Twilight said coldly. "But yes. I happen to know a spell that can disintegrate their bodies."

"What spell?" Rarity asked.

"You'd be amazed what the Watcher's Council on Earth had to hand," Twilight said shortly. She closed her eyes, there was a flash of light... and then Spike's body disintegrated, the entire thing turning to ossified dust. She turned away and left the room, leaving Rarity alone for a moment.

"Goodbye, Spike," she said quietly. She too turned and left the room.

Elliot was waiting for them, Excalibur planted in the ground and the man leaning on it heavily.

"It's done," Twilight said bluntly.

"Good," the man replied shortly.

"Who did this?" Twilight asked. She looked at Springfield and Desert Wind. Springfield shrugged, but Desert Wind scowled.

"Who d'you think would be experimenting with forbidden magic in this bucking place?" he asked, the tone of his voice - the venom in it - telling Twilight everything she needed to know.

She narrowed her eyes, her heart turning to slivers of ice in her chest. "I see." She turned away and started walking down the corridor. "Guess that's something you and me have in common, Wind."

"What?" the tan pony asked with a frown.

"We're both wanting to kill Twilight Sparkle when we meet her," the purple Unicorn said, a slight snarl in her voice as she exploded into a full gallop.

***

Ponyville.

Still pumped on adrenaline after the fight with the Royal Guard, Blueblood met with the field commanders on the ground after the initial enemy force had been driven off, breathing heavily. All around him there were tanks, jeeps and other madness of war being driven into position, surrounded by hundreds of human soldiers and Equestrian resistance fighters.

"Prince Blueblood!" one of the Knights of Albion - Sir Eric himself - said, approaching him. Behind him were Major Redmond, who looked harried but otherwise alright.

“We’ve got the plotwipes on the run! We’ve got to press the advantage!” Blueblood exclaimed once he reached them.

"We've got a lot of forces inbound," Redmond pointed out, his tone respectful but his expression stern, "but I don't think any of them are ready to engage yet."

"The Night Guard are!" Blueblood replied at once. "We'll take the fight to the buckers happily!"

“If I may, Prince Blueblood,” Sir Eric said quietly, “that would not be wise. They have the advantage of terrain. Any force that enters the town will take enormous casualties. We should send an expeditionary group into the town in order to flush them out.”

Part of Blueblood was pained by the idea that he himself couldn’t go and kill every single one of his enemies - but then his rational mind returned, fighting off the blood-drunk state he had entered, and, shaking his head, he thought logically about what was being said. He straightened up slightly, trying to regain something of his Princely air.

“Who would you suggest?” he asked, swallowing slightly as the adrenaline left him and he started feeling tired. He felt the slightly ridiculous urge to yawn, but suppressed it.

A moment later, a squad of Dead Men appeared, almost as if the question of high casualties had magically summoned them.

“We volunteer,” one of them said sharply.

“I… alright,” Blueblood said, slightly surprised by the presence of the Dead Men. “Flush the enemy out of their hiding holes. Clear the town out.”

The Dead Men moved off immediately, their leader ordering more of their troops to form up and begin the advance. A blue Resistance mare jogged over to their position, looking a little frazzled.

“Sirs,” she said, saluting Redmond and Blueblood. “Silent Step, Radio Op.”

“Report,” asked Redmond, returning the salute along with Blueblood.

“Interdiction One and the rest of the air force are requesting orders, sir,” the mare said.

Redmond looked to Blueblood, who was looking at him expectantly.

“You’re in command, sir,” he pointed out.

Slightly unnerved, Blueblood turned to Silent Step. “Tell them to start heading for Canterlot. Hopefully Elliot’s team will have the shield down by then.”

“Yes sir,” Silent Step said, turning to relay her orders.

“That should allow for the forces to begin landing as soon as the shield falls,”

“We also need to secure another method of transportation to the city,” Sir Eric said as they moved off. “We can’t rely on only one front of attack when the shield comes down, and walking’s too slow.”

“The train!” Dinky said, suddenly excited. “There’s a train station near here. If we secure that, we’ll be able to move men and materials up using that, and we could secure a foothold in Canterlot using it as well!”

“Good thinking, Dinky,” Blueblood said quietly. He turned to Sir Eric. “If I could leave that in your capable hands, Sir Eric?”

“The station will be ours,” the Knight promised. “And you will have your foothold. Knights!” he called over to his soldiers, who had been congregating nearby. “Assemble!”

As he too walked away, Blueblood turned to Dinky, sighing slightly in disappointment at not getting to immediately go kill more enemies.

"Are you alright?” he asked, looking over her injuries with a keen eye.

“Yes, sir,” she said quickly. “Just… just glad to be here.”

“Good,” Blueblood said, smiling slightly. “I think it was about time we gave those bastards a bloody nose in person.”

Dinky smiled in return. “Yes sir.”

***

The Dead Men moved like robots. They didn’t know fear - they were already dead, after all. The streets of Ponyville were ripe for ambush, and several of them had already been killed - shot by spells, impaled by spears and in two cases, hit by potion bottles that struck skin where their uniforms had been torn: those men had willingly shot themselves, never once flinching as they did so. Nonetheless, the Dead Men continued, unheeding of death, unwilling to stop for anything in the world. They were ruthless, methodical, clinical, efficient. They had their orders and nothing would deter them. Death had come for them a long time ago, and now they were just bodies waiting to stop ticking.

At the head of these grim soldiers was a man named Manfred Stein. He had lost more than many of them: his family had been in Germany when the Barrier came down, and he didn’t want to think about how agonising their deaths might have been. He had made his home in a small English village, becoming one of it’s protectors… only to fail when they needed him most. The entire village’s children had been ponified by one of the last of the PER, and Manfred had…

He swallowed reflexively as he fought. He didn’t like thinking about it. As he battled these ponies, firing his rifle again and again, all he could see was the bodies of the Converted foals that had once been the children of that tiny village. Thirty bodies. Thirty bullets. His gun.

“Sir,” one of his men said, tapping him on the shoulder. The man pointed towards a building that had a white flag raised over it - it looked like it had once been a tree, but had been turned into some kind of house. Manfred could see foals hiding in the windows of the building, looking out at them with questioning eyes that wondered whether these monsters would come for them as they had come for the Guard and Militia.

“Orders sir?” the Dead Man asked. Manfred cast a clinical eye over the building, ignoring the foals peeping from the windows, though he felt his gorge rise.

“Our orders are to clear hostiles,” he said after a moment, pointing at the white flag. “That’s a universal symbol of non-hostility. It isn’t our business. Continue the sweep.”

“Yes sir,” the Dead Man said, saluting. At once, the Dead Men continued onwards, methodically wiping out any Guard or Militia Pony who jumped out at them.

Manfred cast one last glance at the building before sighing. Ignoring the still staring foals, he moved on to his mission.

***

“Onwards brothers and sisters!” Sir Eric yelled, his sword flashing as he took down another Royal Guard.

The train station, a small straw-roofed arrangement on the edge of Ponyville, had been difficult to reach - it seemed as though the place was the only position in the entirety of Ponyville where the Royal Guard hadn’t decided to flee: resistance here was very heavy. Nearby, Eric could see Sir Frederick fall with a spell striking him. Another knight whose face was hidden by their helmet fell as well, and Eric pushed himself harder, cutting down another Guard who rushed him. He cursed - already behind him were the bodies of many knights brave and true, warriors beyond measure of bravery who had proven their mettle to him a thousand times, men and women who he had trusted with his life. Their deaths weighed heavily on him, but he swore they would not be in vain.

His knights were equipped with a combination of guns and swords - Eric had fought with swords ever since the battle of Cornwall, where he had been blessed by Excalibur itself. Since that day, he had found that his faith and his blessings could be passed on to those deemed worthy by him and those who followed him: more proof, if proof had ever been needed, that those who served Albion and Avalon were blessed by the divine will of the gods themselves.

Near him, Sir Eleanor was struck in the face by a potion bomb. There was a momentary hesitation on her part, and then the vile liquid dissolved on her face. Grinning, the blonde woman pushed forward, her blade spinning as it decapitated the pony foolish enough to think such a tactic might work - immunity to the vile potion was one of the many blessings granted to the Holy Order, along with strength of will and body greater than that of normal warriors.

Truth be told, the blessings of Albion were not infinite - eventually, they would drain, and though they recharged they were not so great that a warrior would be able to jump into battle again immediately, but Sir Eric and his followers didn’t care. If a warrior could not accept that death could come, that his luck might run out, they were no warriors.

“My liege!” one of his knights called. Sir Thomas waved at him, before pointing to the station once he had Eric’s attention. There was a train there - but it looked to be readying to move.

“There’ll be no way to secure a foothold without that train!” Eric said, cursing under his breath. “On, warriors! We must board that train!”

Pushing themselves even harder, the knights of Albion pushed themselves forward, blades flashing and guns barking. There were many Royal Guard before them - but these fools were no match for the power of Albion.

Eventually, Eric and his cohort reached the train - just as it was about to move.

“Jump on!” Eric called, leaping for the rear carriage, where a door was exposed with a small walkway for somepony to land on. He landed near the door and kicked it in, landing amongst three Guardsponies. At once, they moved to attack him, but his blade was faster and they fell headless at his feet.

He spat out a wad of blood from some old injury on the way here and took stock of his situation - he was on the train, but it was moving and he had no way of knowing how many more of his troops had joined him. Fortunately, the train was tall enough that he did not need to crouch, but the doorways would be a point where he could become trapped.

“Don’t focus on the negative,” he chided himself. “You’re a warrior of Albion. It’s time to prove your mettle.”

Suddenly, there was a screeching sound and the train jerked to a halt. Frowning, Eric readied his blade… and then two of his warriors, Sir Eleanor and Sir Paul, walked out from the doorway leading to the front of the train, both soaked in blood and grinning.

“Sir Eric,” Sir Eleanor greeted him with a grin. She held up the severed head of a pony. “The driver gave us some trouble. We may have fixed that.”

Eric grinned. “Well done, Sir Eleanor.”

A moment later, another knight boarded, one Sir Francois, a French warrior who had proven his mettle many times over.

“Sir Eric!” he said, bowing slightly. “The station is clear! Our forces are ready to board!”

“Then by all means, my bold knight,” Eric replied with a vicious grin. “Let us get our forces aboard this train and begin our assault on the Tyrant’s capital itself!!”

As Francois and the others jumped off to gather their warriors, Eric sighed contentedly. Today might be a day of fallen brothers, a day of red blades and rent armour, but despite all that… it would be a good day.

It would be the day a Tyrant fell.

***

Author's Notes:

Personal note: ok, now I'm darker and edgier.

This Chapter contains some references to events from the Anthology. I've linked those references to the specific chapters they occur in, in case you're interested in more information.

And so... the battle for Equestria has begun. This... might take a while. Thanks again to RoyalPsycho and The Void, they're badasses as usual. Thanks to commenters and favouriters alike. Hopefully what happens now really rocks your socks off!