Chapter Fifty One: One Light, Alone.

***

Former ERAS Interdiction.

Errant Flight blocked another wild spear-thrust, before dodging to the left as the pony he was duelling tried to rush him. His right fore-hoof lashed out, and the wrist-blade impaled his enemy in the side, rupturing his spleen and kidneys. Behind him, he heard Fell Spear duelling with more enemies, and he grinned.

On the right! the voice of Lightning Dust in his head yelled. His peripheral picked up a Pegasus charging at him, and he ducked a wild sweeping slash, before retaliating with a stab that gutted his enemy.

"Are you buckers even trying?!" he yelled, as he slashed another across the throat.

They’ve gotten no better since our day, Butter Mellow noted dispassionately, his voice echoing slightly but still as wise and weary as Errant remembered.

Honestly, I’d be embarrassed if I was the Guard, the voice of Little Wing spoke up. This standard’s so low, I bet even Head Strong could get in.

Hey! protested an imaginary Head Strong.

By this point, Errant Flight had long ceased caring that he was imagining his old friends in his head. He had long stopped caring that he was bleeding out, and he had even stopped noticing the fact that his vision had started blurring and distorting slightly as his mind began slowly fading out of consciousness. He was far too busy focusing on the enemies he was fighting, the adrenaline rush he was getting.

"Spear!" he yelled back. "How long ‘til the bridge?!"

"Not long, sir!" Fell Spear replied smartly. "Next deck up, I’d imagine…"

He was interrupted by more ponies charging at him, and he had to block their attacks. Growling, the former Night Guard reached forward and broke one of his enemy’s necks, before stabbing the other in the eye. The Guard juddered slightly as his nerve endings fired off, and then Fell Spear withdrew his blade and the pony collapsed. Errant, meanwhile, found himself fighting two more Guardsponies, one using a sword. He dodged the skilled but predictable blows of the sword wielder, killed the other with a quick stab, and then used his wrist-blades to first disarm his opponent and then cut him open from shoulder to spleen. The pony gurgled in shock for a moment, his eyes wide, before collapsing.

"Third squad, report!" came the harried-sounding voice of Lieutenant Soft Song, the Guard who had taken the bridge, over the intercom. "Third Squad?!"

"He sounds worried," Fell Spear smirked.

"Come on, then," Errant said, grinning. "I don’t want to leave the good Lieutenant waiting."

***

Sky above Canterlot.

The Avatar was dying.

The blood he had coughed up should have been a sign that he was weakening, that he couldn't keep this up forever, and yet he had pressed on regardless, determined to keep fighting, hoping against hope that this was an isolated moment, that maybe he would be able to keep going.

It had only gotten worse.

It started with the pain: pain in his chest, pain in his limbs, pain at the very core of his being. His entire body protested with every moment, bones aching and muscles screaming at the exertion but he knew he couldn’t stop. He knew that to let up was to die. However he also knew that he had no choice but to let up eventually. It was all a matter of time now, a matter of time before his human body finally gave out and died, and Solamina won… and the BDF and resistance were destroyed. Without him, he knew there was no hope.

Solamina would triumph. She would rally her armies, and he had already seen her among the flyers of the Resistance - she had swatted them like flies, crushed them. Images filled his head of that destruction writ large across the battlefield, fire raging in the streets…

No. He could not lose here.

The Avatar kept blocking his opponent's blows, grimacing slightly as Solamina pressed her assault. The mad Alicorn was swinging her glaive constantly, and though no blows had passed the Avatar's defence, he was slowing down. Eventually, through sheer odds, one of her attacks would get through. He knew it, and unfortunately, so did his enemy.

"You can't win, little man!" the Tyrant yelled, a mad grin on her face as she swung her glaive down again. "I can see it - you're weakening!"

"Maybe," he admitted grudgingly, "but I'll die before I let you win!"

He held out both arms, Excalibur blazing with light, and fired off a bolt of blue light that flared brightly enough to temporarily blind both combatants. Solamina flew back slightly, dazed, but she managed to repel the bolt with a growl. He calmed himself, knowing that if he allowed himself to succumb to fear or doubt, it will destroy him. He shifted his grip on Excalibur, and raised it into a guard position. His opponent shook her head, before raising her glaive with a snarl.

"I will destroy you," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"I will fight you until my last breath, foul Tyrant," he rejoined, trying to fill his voice with confidence he no longer felt.

She narrowed her eyes in an expression of utmost loathing. "Then breathe your last, fool."

Her horn began glowing with eldritch power, crackling up and down as though she were drawing the very energies of creation into it. She grinned, a malicious thing filled with the promise of death. And then she unleashed her attack: a bolt of energy lashed toward him. He held up a hand as though to ward the blow, but there was no strength in that hand, as there was no longer strength in him to reflect the blow.

There was a loud, reverberating crack that echoed through the air, and the Avatar was sent flying through the sky. Without any strength left, he could no longer keep himself from descending toward the ground, a faint glow of energy still clinging to him. His last thought, as he turned into a glowing falling star descending on the city of Canterlot faster than sound, was a prayer - a prayer that someone would help him, or at least that someone would be able to defeat Solamina.

It couldn’t end like this...

***

Streets of Canterlot.

Five minutes earlier.

In a street filled with rubble and wreckage, a battle was going on.

A casual viewer might have assumed the battle was somewhat unfair when they saw it was a case of nine on two: there were four Earth Ponies, three Unicorns and two Pegasi on one side, and a single Unicorn and an Alicorn on the other. Of course, any hypothetical viewer observing this battle would have to completely ignore the basics of Alicorns and their comparative power levels in order to draw the conclusion that said Alicorn was outmatched, and that was without taking into account the fact that said Alicorn was clearly dominating the battlefield.

The corpse that had once been Princess Luna of Equestria stood alone in a metaphorical (and given the destructive nature of some of the things being thrown at her, literal) hurricane. Fireballs, spells, bullets and more spells - as well as pastries and rocks - were being thrown at her from Unicorn horns, a battered and erratic P220 and an equally battered party cannon, and she weathered it all. Her already battered flesh was torn and charred in several places, white bone exposed to the destructive powers arrayed against her. Her eyes blazed with eldritch fire, and her mouth gaped as she wailed in unholy, unnatural fury. Every so often, she would fire a devastatingly destructive spell in the direction of her enemies, who could do little except take cover.

"Do you see now?!" came the almost rabid voice of Commander Twilight Sparkle. "You can’t challenge the might of Equestria! Nothing can!"

A hail of spells lanced from her horn as she yelled, smashing into rubble and narrowly missing several of the ponies arrayed against her. One spell shot the P220 clean off of Applejack’s back, and the already-battered machine was smashed apart. Yelping, Applejack ducked behind cover.

"Springfield, Hell Blazer!" she yelled into the air. "If ya’ll are gonna do anythin’ about Luna, do it sharpish!"

She was addressing a yellow Earth Pony and a Unicorn who were taking cover nearby behind some rubble. The Earth Pony was Hell Blazer, who was frowning at the spells - and the nightmarish visage of the undead Alicorn firing them - with concern evident in his eyes. On the other side of him was Rainbow Dash, a cyan Pegasus who was clearly frustrated at the situation.

And then there was the Unicorn taking cover next to Hell Blazer. His name was Well Spring, and it was Wallace Springfield. He was a Unicorn, and he was human. And he was dead.

When the Undead had offered him the chance to join the Dead Men, Wallace had felt the truth in those words - he was dead. He had been dead since he had been Converted - his body was not his own and his soul was shattered. He was honestly surprised at himself for being able to hold in his inner turmoil on the battlefield. The mantra in his head had never ceased.

...neverforgivenneverforgivenneverforgivenneverforgivenneverforgivenneverforgiven…

And yet he had fought it back. He had beaten it down with a different mantra, ringing in his ears, a constant noise that drove him onwards and kept him focused.

The Dead need no forgiveness. They need only purpose.

And now he was about to fulfill that purpose.

"Are you ready for this?" Hell Blazer asked his fellow Converted, his eyes questioning.

"Yes," Springfield said quietly. "I am."

Hell Blazer sighed.

"Alright then," he said. He turned to look at the others, in cover further back from their position, and waved a hoof. A moment later, a single small blue spell shot up.

"We’re on," Hell Blazer said shortly. "Dash."

Rainbow nodded. She spread her wings slightly, preparing to take off. A spell exploded nearby and she flinched. Hell Blazer scowled.

"Oh for fuck’s sake, take this you dead whorse!" he yelled, throwing a fireball in the direction of Luna. The spell didn’t make it past Luna’s shield, but it was enough of an opening that Rainbow Dash was able to take off, flying right at her. She whipped her wrist-blade out and snarled.

"For Equestria!" she called. Her blade raked Luna across the back, and the enraged corpse turned to try and swat her like a fly. "Now, Twi!"

At this, Twilight jumped from cover near Rarity, her own horn blazing. There was a flash of light, and she was suddenly near her counterpart, who was too surprised to react. A moment later, Twilight grabbed her counterpart, lit up her horn and disappeared, leaving the corpse of Luna alone and unsupported.

This was Wallace’s opening. He stood up, horn blazing, and with a slight growl he charged right at Luna.

"The Dead are upon you!" he yelled angrily.

Her head snapped around faster than should have been possible, an audible crack ringing out, and her eyes blazed. A spell lit up, and Springfield found himself being lifted up. His eyes widened in shock and fear as those eyes met his and narrowed in contempt.

"Shit!" Hell Blazer called. "Springfield, hang on!"

"No!" Springfield yelled in return. He found himself staring the abomination in the eyes. A deep croaking began in the thing’s ruined throat.

"I… am… the… dead…!" it said, it’s voice filled with anger… and torment. "I… am… the dead!"

Springfield scowled at her. Suddenly, all fear left him. He knew exactly what he had to do.

"Fine," he said calmly. "Then join me in death!"

His horn lit up, a blazing, fiery light. He closed his eyes. images of his family, long gone, filled his mind, even as his horn grew brighter and brighter.

Forgive me, he thought. I’m coming.

There was a bright light.

***

From the outside, it looked rather like this: the blazing light on Springfield’s horn grew larger and brighter, to the point where nopony could bear to look at it. Suddenly, the light seemed to implode in on itself, and there was a loud thoom that rang out. Whatever the light was, it had destroyed the area where Luna and Springfield had been, showering the area in rubble and wreckage. The remaining ponies could only take cover as debris rained from the sky. A moment later, it was over, and Pinkie Pie of all ponies popped her head out from cover first, putting down a bright yellow umbrella she had grabbed from nowhere.

"Ok!" she called, sounding oddly cheerful. "I think it’s over!"

Everypony else slowly stepped out from cover, looking to see precisely what had happened. Of Springfield, nothing could be seen save a few scraps of charred uniform covered in bits of red. There was no sign of the corpse of Luna at all.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell did he do?!" Hell Blazer asked, eyes wide in shock and horror.

"Some sort of destructive spell," the Doctor theorised, the old pony dusting his jacket off with a slight frown. "I’d heard of such spells being used as suicide attacks before, but I can’t say I’d ever encountered one being used in the flesh."

"He… killed himself?!" Rarity asked, looking sick at the very notion of such an act. "To destroy Luna?"

"Maybe he thought it’d be the best way ta stop her," Applejack pondered morosely. "‘Sides, can’t imagine it was very nice bein’ him."

"No," Hell Blazer said quietly. "Being a Convie… a Converted… isn’t very nice at all, and I’ve still got an intact soul to my name. God knows what he went through."

"We’ll never know now," Rarity murmured.

There was a long pause as the ponies took stock of what they had just witnessed. for Hell Blazer and the Doctor, this was almost normal. They had seen things just as horrible as this before; much as they didn’t enjoy it, it wasn’t shocking. But to the ponies who had come from another Equestria, this was yet another thing they had never seen the like of before.

"Poor Springfield," Fluttershy said quietly.

Hell Blazer sighed and shook his head. Then he frowned as a loud crack reverberated through the sky, before looking up to see what had made the noise - and he blinked in shock. A figure was falling from the sky - a figure in archaic plate armour, holding a massive greatsword…

"David!" Hell Blazer yelled, eyes widening in horror. The others looked up too, and some of them gasped in horror.

"Is that Elliot?" Rainbow asked, looking horrified. "Did Solamina hit him with something?!"

"Fuck!" Hell Blazer swore. Before anypony could stop him, he was running in the direction of the falling figure, galloping as fast as his small pony legs could carry him.

"Hell Blazer, wait!" Rarity called after him, but he was already gone.

"We should go after him," Rainbow said urgently. "If Elliot’s been hurt he’ll need our help!"

"Agreed," Applejack said, moving to follow Hell Blazer.

Suddenly, there was a deep, ominous rumbling beneath their feet.

"What the buck?" Rainbow swore. "What is this?!"

And then the ground exploded. A battered, bloody and winged creature emerged from a shower of rubble, a horn blazing in fury, a terrible wailing escaping from its mouth.

"Oh no…" Fluttershy murmured. "She’s still here!"

And the corpse of Princess Luna screamed...

***

Sol Invictus’ stand, Canterlot.

Ten minutes earlier.

True Grit dodged one charging Militia-pony’s charge, lashing out with his bayonet and stabbing his opponent in the side. Behind him, he could hear Lyra yelling as she fired off spell after spell.

The clash of Militia and Night Guard had been brutal: armour had been crumpled and rent by spears and blades, bodies had been crushed beneath hooves, and spells had flown hither and thither, fired into the swirling melee that spilled across the courtyard.

Near the Militia lines, the burning wreckage of the Solar Idols blazed on, the magical fire not quenched by the destruction of its hosts. If anything, it had become more fierce, casting a heat like the fires of hell itself across the courtyard and making even those farthest from the fire sweat. Many of the surviving Dead Men had torn their coats and gas masks off and were firing their guns at the Militia lines with reckless abandon, inspired by the sacrifice of their leader. From elsewhere, BDF troopers were being drawn to the battle, fighting Royal Guard, Eclipse Guard and Militia in brutal short-range gun/magic fights that caused horrendous casualties.

And at the centre of it all were the Night Guard themselves, fighting against the core retinue of Sol Invictus and the elite of the Militia.

"Grit!" Lyra called out. "Get down!"

On instinct, True Grit ducked, to see a spear sail over his head. Lyra’s horn blazed, and a Pegasus who had been strafing the battlefield took a hit and was sent spinning into a wall.

"Thanks!" Grit said to Lyra breathlessly, before sending another spell off himself at a Militia pony charging at him.

Another Pegasus was shot down by sniper fire coming from a nearby building, and smashed into a group of fighting Night Guard and Militia, knocking several of them to the ground. The Militia were poorly trained and seemed more like a mob than an army, but the mob was easily several hundred strong: as always, the Equestrian army could afford to take horrendous losses.

True Grit sent a concussive explosion spell at a group of about ten Militia behind rubble near the edge of the throng. The spell destroyed their cover, killing several and scattering the rest, and Grit saw his chance.

"Come on!" he yelled at the ponies behind him. Lyra and two others followed him. The remaining Milia ponies managed to rally themselves just as Grit reached them, but Grit almost immediately knocked one over, wrestling him to the ground before smashing his head in. Behind him, Lyra hit another with a burning spell. One of their comrades took a spear to the chest, but the other lashed out with a bayonet, avenging the stallion. Unfortunately, another Militia pony managed to kock her to the ground, before stamping on her throat.

"Bucker!" True Grit swore as the mare gurgled, blood welling through her ruined throat. He sent another concussive spell out, this time directly at the offending stallion. The resultant impact was so loud that, for a moment, True Grit could hear nothing but a loud ringing that deafened him for a moment. He blinked and looked around, seeing Lyra looking up at the sky. She was gaping in horror, as though shocked and horrified by something. Frowning, dazed and confused, True Grit looked up in the direction she was. His frown disappeared, replaced by wide, shocked eyes.

An armoured figure was falling from the sky - and an armoured Alicorn was following.

"Is that… Elliot?" True Grit tried to say, but his hearing still hadn’t cleared up and he had the horrible feeling he’d failed to modulate his voice properly.

He tried to look back to Lyra, only to see her racing off in the direction the armoured figure had been falling. Shaking his head to try and clear the noise out of it, Grit followed as fast as he could - he didn’t know if they could help Elliot but frankly he didn’t care.

The man was a good person, a friend - and he wasn’t letting him, or Lyra, face Solamina alone.

***

Across the courtyard, death was king. Dead Men survivors had rallied around their banner and were firing at any Equestrian reinforcements that were attempting to get into the melee. Eclipse Guard and Royal Guard remnants were pushing in from other points in the city, but the fields of fire that the Dead Men had set up had turned those narrow streets into body-choked killing grounds, Unicorn spells and billets flying hither and thither, faster than thought, thicker than rain.

In the centre of the courtyard, the Night Guard and Sol Invictus' Militia followers clashed. Spears stabbed, blades sliced, spells burned and froze, rended and destroyed, and ponies died. And at the heart of the swirling melee, Prince Blueblood was at once more terrified than he had ever been and far, far more alive.

He knew he was as likely to die in this chaotic, brutal melee as anyone else, but he didn’t care. He had no privilege above his fellow pony, he had no special protection, and he loved every second. For the first time in his life, he was making a difference to the world, a real, positive difference.

"Forward!" he yelled to the Night Guard all around him. "Push forward!"

There was a yell of assent as the Night Guard surged forward, pushing close to Sol Invictus’ banner itself as it fluttered in the sky. There was a charge on the air, a charge like no kind of magic Blueblood knew (and if he was being immodest, he knew quite a bit). Today they might actually win. Today, they would get their home back!

And then he stepped forward from the throng. Sol Invictus himself, armoured and golden, his red mane billowing as he moved with purpose. There was a sudden lull in the fighting as the two leaders squared off against one another.

"Traitor!" he called toward Blueblood. "You have come to defile the city of a Goddess!"

"And you're a human who abandoned his people," Blueblood returned, scowling. "I know what Solamina has done! I was here for it!" He paused. "I helped her do some of it."

"Your treasonous words hold no sway with the faithful, heretic!" Invictus screamed, and the Converted behind him cheered. "There is but one chance for you! Repent your sins, cast down your weapons, and beg for the mercy of Her Glorious Majesty!"

"Repent?!" Blueblood yelled, and the Night Guard behind him jeered at Invictus. "Repent?!"

"Solamina should repent!" Blueblood heard Dinky yell, her tone furious. "Repent for the Night Guard! For the Converted! For the deaths of thousands of ponies, billions of humans! For Gilead and the PER and all the atrocities from her Barrier! For London, Leeds, Hull, Whitby, Manchester! For Luna, Lyra Heartstrings, Ever Stern, Babs Seed - my mother!"

“She should repent for destroying the good name of a pony who did more good for our kind than anypony else ever has and ever will,” Blueblood added, now speaking quietly, more dangerously than ever. “Celestia is as much a victim of what Solamina has become as anypony.”

"Silence!" Sol Invictus snarled. "You are traitors, heretics! You deserve nothing but contempt and destruction!"

He snorted, hoofing at the ground in the universal pony gesture for preparing for conflict. Blueblood did the same.

"I will kill the traitor personally!" Sol Invictus yelled to his Converted followers. "No one interfere!"

"Funny!" Blueblood said, loud enough for both parties to hear. "I was about to say the same thing!"

There was a brief pause as the two glared at one another, and then they charged...

***

Former ERAS Interdiction.

Errant Flight dodged another spear, and - with effort - managed to force his wrist blade into the chest of his enemy. He stared into the dying eyes of the pony for a moment, leaning heavily on the corpse to give himself a moment's support, before pulling back, staggering slightly.

His injury was beginning to take a toll on him: he could feel himself starting to lose consciousness. Still, he couldn’t stop now - they were almost to the bridge.

“Sir?” Fell Spear asked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m bleeding out,” Errant replied conversationally. “Don’t really have time to stop, though, do we?”

“Sir,” Fell Spear said, his tone full of foreboding, but then another group of Royal Guards charged from a doorway, and he was in amongst them, fighting. Errant pushed himself forward and stabbed another Guard, before throwing the corpse into another, who was knocked to the ground. He stabbed the Guard while he was down, blocked another blow (barely) and kicked out, sending the last Guard away.

Fell Spear dealt a fatal blow to his last opponent, the stallion still efficient and quick. He looked up at Errant.

“Bridge is dead ahead,” he said quietly. “Are you…?”

“Let’s just do this,” Errant said, drawing upon his last reserves of strength.

The two of them headed for the bridge door. Fell Spear turned to Errant, who nodded, trying his best to keep himself up. A moment later, they burst onto the bridge. A Lieutenant in Guard armour - most likely Soft Song - was stood by the wheel, and four more Guards were left in the room. Looks of surprise were frozen on their faces. The mere idea that two ponies had fought their way to the bridge through every Guardspony that had been sent their way was enough to leave them stunned for a second.

That second gave Errant Flight and Fell Spear the time they needed.

Fell Spear immediately leapt up onto a table, dashed across it and jumped at the Royal Guard Lieutenant with a yell, leaving the Guards for Errant. He sighed, and stabbed the first one, before using the body as a shield from the charge of the second one. He pushed forward, knocking the Guard over, where he pushed the body of his late comrade off as Errant dueled another Guard, managing with effort to slash the pony’s throat.

The Guard stood up, just in time for Errant to buck him in the face. He stumbled backwards, stunned, as the last Guard charged Errant, who blocked his opening attack, knocking the spear away, before stabbing him through his chest armour with effort. Breathing heavily, he pushed the corpse off of his blade and turned to the last, stunned Guard with a sigh of exertion. The Guard righted himself, before scowling at him.

“Traitor!” he yelled. “I’ll kill you!”

“Get in line,” Errant muttered. The Guard charged, but Errant sidestepped him and stabbed him in the back of the throat as he ran, before stumbling over the corpse as he tried to retract his blade.

Not long now, Errant - best make it count, the Ditzy in his head said.

“Gotcha,” he murmured. He turned to look at Fell Spear - and swore.

Soft Song hadn’t sounded like he was competent, but how ponies sounded was often deceiving, and unfortunately for Fell Spear, Soft Song was fresh and energised, whereas Spear, though a better fighter, was tired from fighting his way through half the Guards on this zeppelin. Thus, Fell Spear was outmatched just enough that Song was able to batter past his blocks and impale him on a spear.

Errant growled. He had lost enough ponies. This was the end of his rope. He spread his wings, grabbing the corpse of the last Guard as he did so, and as Soft song turned to look at him, he leapt forward, the momentum from pushing himself into the air throwing the Guard’s body right at Soft Song, knocking him to the ground. Errant landed right near him and, with the last of his strength, stabbed him in the throat.

“That…” he said angrily, panting from this latest exertion, “was for my friend.”

Song’s eyes were wide with horror as he choked on his own blood, and then he stilled. Errant slumped to the ground, drained. He looked up at the window, frowning.

“Hello? Hello?" he heard a small, tinny voice say. He frowned, before turning almost lazily to Fell Spear, grabbing his comm, and putting it in his own ear. “This is Grey Two to Grey Six, are you there?”

“Dream Flyer?” Errant said tiredly. “This is Errant… Spear’s dead. Bridge is… bridge is secure…”

His eyes looked out at the battle raging in the sky, and his heart sank. He could see, in the distance, a giant, undecorated but unmistakable shape moving toward the battle, surrounded by swarms of ponies in blue uniforms.

“We have… we have heavy incoming…” he said, trying to form the words. Even as he did so, though, something happened that he would never have expected.

The Zeppelin turned to its left, exposing it’s undecorated side. The golden balloon had been hastily scrawled on, as though whoever had done it had been in a hurry, and the message was now exposed to everypony and everyone in the sky.

Buck Solamina.

Looks like the Wonderbolts finally pulled their heads from their plots, Lightning Dust’s voice said, sounding as though she approved. Errant boggled, but then he grinned too.

“Sons of bitches,” he said quietly, feeling himself slip. “Dream Flyer…? We have heavy… friendly… incoming…”

He grinned, even as he felt consciousness leave him for the last time. The last thing he thought he heard was a familiar voice.

You did good Grey Four, the voice of Ditzy Doo said. You did good.

***

In the sky above Canterlot, the super-Zeppelin - nobody wanted to give it it’s original name at the moment - came without fanfare, but its effect was felt immediately. The Wonderbolts, many of them fresh from the fighting in Cloudsdale, swarmed the remaining flyers and zeppelins of the Solaminan forces.

A few gunships took potshots at the approaching leviathan before realising what was scrawled across the gasbag and what the super-Zeppelin was training its guns at. The attacks did nothing anyway, as enchantments woven into the superstructure simply shrugged off the missiles and gunfire.

On the bridge of the super-Zeppelin - called Haughty’s Revenge by Quill Tip, the stallion who’d taken command of the motley crew of docile Converted and eager (if unskilled) civilians - Quill Tip watched as the zeppelin fired newly repowered and repaired weapons at nearby Solaminan zeppelins, a look on his face of mixed sorrow and pride.

Zeppelins erupted into flames as magical and alchemical shots ripped through their gasbags and blew the gondolas to splinters. Guardsponies threw themselves from the collapsing wreckages, many of them burning as they struggled to extinguish flames that would not go out. Regiments of Guardsponies were blown apart wherever they flew the flag of the Empire or were otherwise overwhelmed by great mobs of enraged Wonderbolts and civilians from Cloudsdale.

“Your great work is fighting for the right side, Haughty,” he murmured to himself. “Wish you could have seen it.”

With the power of the Zeppelin and the force of the Wonderbolts, the Solaminan forces broke, retreating from the new forces. The battle in the sky was won.

Now, all that was left was the city itself.

***

Elsewhere in Canterlot.

Twilight coughed as she pulled herself to her feet. She had teleported herself and her counterpart as far away from the corpse of Luna and her friend as as she possibly could, in hopes that maybe - just maybe - it would be enough to give them breathing room. Now, stood in a narrow street she didn't recognise, she breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she had succeeded. Still, the effort had drained her somewhat. She looked around briefly, trying to find where her insane counterpart was.

"Surprise, whorse!" a harsh yell rang out, and a spell hit Twilight in the side, knocking her to the ground. She struggled to get up as her counterpart appeared, a furious expression on her face.

"You little..." Sparkle hissed, her horn glowing. She shot another spell at Twilight, who put up a shield just in time. "I have lost everything in this war thanks to those humans, and you dare come here! come from a world where none of that has happened, and you think you have the right to judge me?!"

She shot another spell at Twilight, but by now she had pulled herself to her feet and was able to make a steadier shield. She held it, narrowing her eyes at Commander Sparkle.

"You waged a war of genocide," she said angrily. "You helped murder millions, enslave billions!"

She fired her own spell at Sparkle, who blocked it almost lazily before retaliating with another. Twilight grunted from the effort of blocking the shot.

"What I did, I did for friendship. For the love of my friends, my country and my Empress. There's no point in debating," Sparkle said tiredly, her eyes filled with emotions Twilight never wanted to feel: emptiness, despair, and rage - overpowering rage. "You've come to kill my Empress, my mentor and my friend. I'm going to kill you first."

She charged, and rammed into Twilight's side. Twilight, winded, fell backwards, but managed to use her opponent's momentum to vault her directly over her, where she slammed into a wall. Twilight got to her feet, charging her own attack spell, but Sparkle was too quick, using her horn to create a shock wave that knocked Twilight over again.

"You're no match for me!" Sparkle yelled, approaching Twilight with a grin, a deadly spell building on her horn. "Now... die!"

Before she could use the spell however, Twilight's dagger leapt from its sheath and slashed her across her front. Twilight sat up quickly, a spell darting from her horn and smashing into Sparkle, sending her spinning away.

“You first,” Twilight hissed, before going back on the attack.

***

Canterlot Palace.

"Huh. Funnily enough, this is not how I imagined him ending up."

"Of course it’s not."

"This is a terrible ending. Such a downer."

"Weren’t you the one who wanted -?"

"Ahem. That is different."

"Anyway, point stands - this is dark."

"Maybe if we do something about it…"

"Not needed, fellas. Just watch."

"Are you sure about that?"

"This isn’t how this is supposed to end, you know that…"

"Of course you know that."

"I mean this was all your idea in the first place."

"I remind you, a lot of this stuff happened entirely accidentally, nothing to do with me - and you two did a lot of it too."

"Yes, but it’s still your tale. You just let us work in it."

"Yes. True. But…"

"So maybe you should intervene?"

"Maybe probably."

"Almost certainly."

"Guys! You just have to trust me, you two. Everything’s going exactly how it should be."

"If you say so. Oh look - I think he’s waking up..."

The Avatar groaned slightly as he opened his eyes. For a moment, he thought he saw three figures standing above him, but then he blinked and he could see only one. He couldn’t make out the figure, except that it was human and seemed to be wearing a coat. For a moment, it seemed as though the figure was holding out a hand, and blindly he reached out to grab it.

"There we go," the voice said quietly. "Back on your feet. You’ve a destiny to fulfill, my friend, and you’re not going to do it lying down."

The Avatar blinked, frowning. He was stood up, but there was no one else there. He was in a dark room, the only light from outside being the hole in the roof he had made.

He felt terrible, but he was alive. He closed his eyes, trying to heal himself, but the magic just hurt him more, making him cough. He used Excalibur as a crutch to keep himself from falling, and growled slightly at his own weakness. He concentrated again, focusing hard, and this time he managed to use the magic to heal himself, though it took a lot of energy. Chances were, he wouldn’t be flying about again any time - which might end up being a problem…

He frowned. There were other beings in this room - he could vaguely make out the silhouettes of ponies. He raised Excalibur, and a small light shone, and then he could see them. They were definitely ponies, and they were standing… but they weren’t moving. For a moment, he thought they were statues… and then a series of magical candles sparked and ignited, dousing the room in cold blue light, and he could finally make out the figures.

There were dozens of them, pale eyed, each armoured in cold steel armour, blank faced and all armed to the teeth. Unicorns, Pegasi, Earth Ponies… and people. Human beings - Knights of Albion and soldiers of the BDF and Dead Men and even those who must have once been civilians. Ten, twenty, thirty… dozens of humans, dozens of ponies, all of them the same in one respect.

They were dead. All of them.

The bodies were preserved by some dark magic, but they were bloodless and stiff and cold, with many covered in injuries ranging from burns to rot damage, with holes in their bodies that the Avatar could see through. They hung from the ceiling, naked and covered in long coagulated blood, with hooks and other apparatus holding them up like macabre marionettes. By all rights, this grotesquery shouldn’t have been able to stand, so grievous were their injuries. They shouldn’t have even held together, simply falling into piles of severed limbs and meat, but whatever it was that preserved them had evidently kept them from collapsing on themselves. They were stood, row upon row… dozens… maybe hundreds… unmoving, unthinking.

"What devilry is this…?" the Avatar murmured, eyes wide, as the bodies of the dead surrounded him. "What have you done, Tyrant?"

"Do you like them?" a voice asked. The Avatar spun around, Excalibur raised to defend himself, but a bolt of magic slammed into him, driving him through another wall - and several of the corpses, their bodies splattering all over him.

He now found himself stood in a courtyard of the palace, white walls surrounding a small botanical garden. He scowled as he wiped bits of corpse off of himself, and stood up, raising Excalibur once again.

"Are you about done picking yourself up, little man?" that cold, cruel voice asked, a tinge of dark humour in its tone. The Avatar turned, and narrowed his eyes in contempt at Solamina, who was stood on top of a wall, wings flared in triumph.

"What did you do, Tyrant?" he asked, trying to restrain himself from shouting. "What was the point of that menagerie of mockery in there?!"

"Is it not obvious?" Solamina replied haughtily, before laughing. "None may leave the service of the Eternal Sun until they are given my permission to do so."

"And what does that mean?" the Avatar asked.

"Why, have not my servants shown you that death is no barrier to my service?" Solamina asked, her voice tinged still with that dark humour. "Those bodies are an army. My willing servants, warriors for an army that cannot die. Soldiers for the Eternal Guard."

The Avatar felt sick. Necromancy? He had known the Empress condoned such practices, but on this scale… it boggled the mind.

"The Converted willingly offer themselves to me in entirety," Solamina continued. "As do many of the natural born ponies… and those that do not have no choice, those who find themselves jobless, useless to the population, wishing for some money to come their foals way. Your kind were... more difficult to acquire, but there are certain advantages to using the bodies of mankind as well. These bodies were gathered from a hundred battles - Dover and Plymouth, Hull and Leith, Leeds and London, all of them gave us what we wanted."

The bodies. The Avatar cursed when he realised - the bodies from the Illustrious, battered and burned and yet not disposed of. If they were experiment victims, why were the bodies not disposed of? Now it made sense - even after the bodies were used up and left to rot, there was still one more thing the monster needed them for.

"I thought there was no limit to your evil," the Avatar said quietly, his voice a hiss of contempt, "but even I thought you would at least allow the dead their peace."

"They are but the first," Solamina said with a vicious grin. "The first of an army that will make the worlds beyond this one bend the knee to my glory."

The Avatar’s eyes widened in horror at the implication. "No…"

"Did you really think this world and yours would be the end of my ambition, little man?!" Solamina laughed. "You have been to other worlds. I shall go there as well. But where you went in service to others, I go for myself! Where you went as a supplicant, I will go as a conqueror! Where you begged aid, I will take what is mine!"

The Avatar pointed his blade at her, ignoring the pain in his body that had still not entirely abated.

"Your evil goes no further than this place, right here and right now," he said, his tone cold. "I will kill you."

"Ha!" the Tyrant laughed. "Part of me almost wishes I could keep you around, little man. You amuse me with your delusions. Still - it is time to end this game once and for all."

"I’m ready for whatever you have to throw at me, Tyrant," the Avatar replied shortly, lifting Excalibur into a guard position and trying to keep it relatively steady.

"Really?" Solamina asked, now sounding even more amused. "Oh, well I shall have to let somepony else see what they can do."

The Avatar scowled at that, but he knew it couldn’t mean anything good. Drawing upon whatever reserves he had left, he raised Excalibur into a higher guard, awaiting his opponent’s move.

She stood, her horn glowing with power. He braced himself for an attack, but none came - a bolt of purple light shot into the sky instead, exploding into a bright display that, had it not been ominous, would have been beautiful. A horn rang through the sky.

***

Elsewhere in Canterlot.

Twilight quickly generated a shield as her counterpart unleashed another offensive. She scowled.

“Try harder!” she yelled, before throwing an attack spell in reply. “I’m not some defenseless human, and I’m not any old Resistance Unicorn!”

“No, you’re a traitor!” her counterpart replied with a snarl, her own shield dissipating under the force of the attack. “and you’ll get the fate all traitors get in the end - you’re going to -!”

Sparkle was distracted from her diatribe by a purple light and a deep, blaring horn sounding. she looked up, as though she had been struck.

“What?” Twilight said, also looking up. There was a large explosion in the sky, almost like a firework, very similar to the spell that had summoned Luna’s corpse. Except this one was the colour of Twilight’s fur…

She turned to look at her counterpart, but all she saw was the flash of light that heralded a teleportation,

“No!” she yelled. She turned back to the explosion - it must have been over the palace. She snarled and concentrated, before she, too, teleported away.

***

Canterlot Palace Courtyard.

One by one they came. Some of them wore simple purple robes, emblazoned with that damn symbol - the purple star over the sun. Some of them wore ornate armour, the same symbol stamped onto it. Five… ten… twenty… they teleported in, one by one, and moved to surround him, and all the while Solamina watched on, a triumphant expression on her face.

“Am I supposed to be intimidated by numbers, Tyrant?” the Avatar asked, frowning at the ponies. “I have defeated Arch-magi before.”

"You will not be so fortunate this time," Solamina replied, laughing down at him. "You are dying. Your frail human body is nearing its end. You are one light, alone in the darkness."

The Avatar narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on Excalibur as the Arch-magi circled him, all of them apparently preparing to strike.

And then something happened that neither the Avatar or Solamina could have predicted: a clear, strong voice yelled out.

"He is not alone!"

A fireball shot from one corner of the courtyard, smashing into a half dozen of the Arch-magi before they could react, knocking them down, and an Earth Pony in a trenchcoat appeared, standing on a wall with a smirk on his face. Spells lashed out from a small gateway as a green Unicorn stallion fired at the ponies nearest him, and Lyra Heartstrings stood on a rock arrangement, an expression of defiance on her face. The Arch-magi milled in confusion for a moment.

"Need a hand mate?!" Hell Blazer called down from the wall, grinning.

Solamina looked at the three ponies and laughed, a harsh thing that held no warmth and no mirth.

"You three are nothing before my might," she said harshly. "I’ll crush you like insects!"

A spell shot out from her horn, but faster than anything, the Avatar was in front of it, holding up a hand. The energy smashed into him and he scowled.

"You will not touch my friends," he growled. He raised Excalibur and leapt at Solamina, slamming into her and knocking her to the ground. As though this were a cue, one of the Arch-magi turned to her fellows.

"For the Empress!" she yelled. "Magic is might!"

"And we are magic!" her comrades answered, before moving to attack the newcomers, their horns lighting up as exertion and grim anticipation marred their faces.

"Ah buck," True Grit said, eyes wide. Lyra gritted her teeth, her horn glowing as she prepared another spell. Hell Blazer, though, grinned.

"I’m gonna make you wankers wish you’d stayed at home!" he yelled, throwing another fireball at them with a grin.

***

Author's Notes:

Endgame is coming.

My thanks to Doctor Fluffy, The Void and RoyalPsycho for keeping an eye on this chapter as it progressed, to my readers for their support and to those who've commented and favourited.