With broken windows, smashed-in doors, and a roof that was still smoking, the Apple family mansion had seen better days: specifically, yesterday. In the early hours of this morning, Canterlot’s Royal Guards had assaulted it without mercy. An assault that was still proceeding judging by the shouts and spell blasts still echoing inside.

Styre trotted out into the cratered remains of the front yard. He knew that he should have felt something… anything, to see this place so thoroughly destroyed. Then again, the 'polite' members of the Apples never did invite his branch of the family over for a visit. It didn't matter in the end. His father had perverted everything good it could have possibly have stood for, and now it fell to Styre to incinerate what was left. Thanks Dad.

A row of prisoners lined up in the yard, next to the rose bushes. A trio of guardsponies systematically stripped them down of their weapons and armour. The removals were far from gentle. One prisoner’s struggles sent him stumbling into a bramble of rose thorns.

Styre winced at the pained shrieks. How had it all come to this? Larms always did have a way with words, but how did he manage to fool so many guards, so quickly? They weren't stupid, or openly traitorous, these were good mares and stallions for the most part. So why? How?

"Sargent Styre!" A shout came from Styre's side. Monochrome Sprint landed on the ground next to him. "Sargent, we can't find Larms anywhere. We think he's fled the Mansion grounds through some secret tunnel."

Of course he did. Styre growled, kneading his forehead. "Did you find the Prince-Consort?"

Monochrome shook her head. "No, but one of the Uni-detectives found signs of a struggle up in Larm's study. If your hunch was right, then that's how Grey Spear broke in."

"It wasn't a hunch Monochrome. I saw him jumping across rooftops when I was out on patrol."

"Right, right, then you came back from patrol and found that letter in your locker from your dad, right?"

Worms crawled in Styre's guts. That letter. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the words out.

Son, you're wasting yourself on this. You're built for bigger things!

He didn't need more evidence to prove that his father was nuts, but that letter clinched it. "Yes… and then I found the letter from representative Larms back at the barracks."

Mononchrome bobbed her head. "Right, right, so… what next, fearless leader?" The heads of the other Royal Guards turned an ear, awaiting orders.

Styre frowned. "I'm only in charge until we find Prince-Consort Gar-eth or Colonel Purple Dart."

"Right, right, but until then…?" Monochrome waved her hoof leadingly.

"Until then…"

I can't be the leader that Equestria needs. My heart is too cold. But… maybe I know somepony who can.

Styre took a steadying breath. "Monochrome, there's no telling what Larms is planning, that puts us on the defensive for now. Take all the Pega-guards you can and send them out to the Guards keeping the peace in the streets. We need to re-secure the castle."

"Yes, sir!" Monochrome's salute was only half-sarcastic. She turned, beating her wings once and taking off into the dark sky.

Styre sighed. Hopefully they'd all make it through the night.

A high-pitched squeak came from the front of the mansion. A rat stood in the middle of the half-shattered, smoking doorway. It waved its foreclaws at one of the nearby guards, hopping up and down, trying to get somepony's attention.

Wait a minute, Styre recognised that posture. That was one of Butter Pie’s janitors! Styre trotted forward a few steps, beckoning him over.

The moment he caught sight of Styre the janitor leapt off the doorway. He rushed towards Styre, tiny claws skittering on stone. Coming to a screeching halt, he stood, looking up with wide, terrified eyes.

Styre lowered himself down, offering a reassuring forehoof. "Why are you here?"

A litany of squeaks and explanations followed. Most was too hard to understand.

Listening to animals gave Styre a headache. Styre groaned, rubbing his forehead. Butter Pie was so much better at this. "Okay, something about a mirror, a portal, a church and a torch?"

The janitor plunged his claws into his mouth, gnawing on them in frustration. He grabbed Styre's forehoof with both claws and tried to pull him towards the mansion, hurriedly flicking his nose towards the doorway. The squeaks started to take on a desperate tone. "The Prince…"

Wait, Styre understood that one. "What was that about the Prince-Consort?"

"Heh heh heh." One of the prisoners, a silver earth-pony, let out a mirthless chuckle.

Styre turned, narrowing his eyes. He recognised the angular scar on the stallion’s bald head, "Mind telling me what’s so funny, Snowy Glade?"

"Isn’t it obvious?" Snowy sneered. "One refuse-eating beast caring for another. It brings a tear to the eye."

"Iron Hoof?" Styre glanced to the Royal Guard currently stripping Snowy of his gear. "Remind him who is responsible for that refuse-eating beast."

Iron Hoof grabbed Snowy by the neck and drove a hoof into Snowy's gut.

The wet thud reached Styre's ears, but he refused to react, stepping forward.

Snowy collapsed to the ground, coughing, spluttering. "Bastard… you'll get the same," he hissed

"Since you know what he's saying," Styre said. "I'm sure that you understand what he's talking about, too. Where is Gar-eth?"

"Go hang yourself," Snowy spat.

Styre glanced to the Snowy's left. "Iron Hoof?"

Snowy threw his hooves over his gut. "F-fine! You want to know where your 'Prince-Consort' is? He's rotting in a shallow grave in the Crystal Caverns! Larms tried to get him to see reason, but Grey Spear just tried to stab him to death! Then, after Larms barely escaped, a group of us didn't even have the stomach to do the right thing and put him down! Don’t you get it? We're not the monsters here, Grey Spear is!"

"The Crystal Caverns?" Styre glanced down at the rat, who was still tugging at his forehoof. "This janitor said something about a Mirror portal, know anything about that?"

Snowy snorted. "Yeah, I know that you'll never get there in time. The way is closed."

The last of Styre's patience evaporated. "Iron Hoof!"

Snowy yelped, curling into a ball. "N-no! Please, I-I swear, I don't know how to open it!"

"We'll find out how much you know.” Styre growled, working a kink out of his neck and clapping his forehooves together. “Iron Hoof, hold him still. As for you, Snowy, we’re going to have a nice, long talk. For instance, where is the Mir—"

A deafening thunderclap roared in the distance. Everypony in the yard stopped and turned towards Canterlot castle, where a rainbow of colours, magic and light illuminated the night horizon.

A sour feeling crawled into his gut. That came from the Throne room. "The Princess…"

Styre, I learnt a valuable lesson when I was a foal; you cannot rely on one pony to give you everything. You need to be able to get it yourself.

Styre grit his teeth. He gently brushed off the janitor and handed him over to Iron Hoof.

"Sir?" Iron Hoof grunted.

"Take a few Guardsponies and stay here with the prisoners. Try to find Gar-eth if you can, but…" Styre shook his head. He turned to the rest of the Royal Guard, waving a forehoof above his head. "Everypony else rally on me. We're marching on Canterlot castle!"

Stay hidden, stay low. Stay hidden, stay low. Gareth chanted in his mind, keeping his back pressed up against one of broken church's walls. He'd ran from one side of the chasm to the other, fleeing far away from where 'Neville' patiently awaited the pegasi’s approach. He wearily peeked around the side.

The smoke had fully cleared, drawing the veil on the utter desolation.

It was… astonishing. He was no architect, that church had to be unusually sturdy in its construction. He glance between the fallen remains before him and the remains still teetering above.

Although the church’s roof had collapsed, one of the outer walls and almost half the church’s flooring hadn’t fallen into the chasm at all. Even one of the three walls that fell remained upright. The others kept a firm grip on their flooring, merely tilting over at right angles. Unfortunately for those stone 'boxes' at the sides of the crystal chasm, they weren't so sturdy. They had cracked open like eggs, spilling out artefacts and other decaying objects. Almost all of the glowing lights littering the field had turned out to be one from one of those 'boxes'.

It didn’t seem like anything else was going to fall, though. Good enough for him. Gareth moved along the wall, keeping a look out. Effectively utilising your surroundings was a crucial element to battle. Perhaps if he could get closer to one of those spilled-out artefacts, he'd find something of use.

A naggingly familiar, musky smell suddenly filled the air. Just a few yards away was a shattered casket, obviously fallen from a great height. A withered claw hung loosely out a crack in the side.

Gareth grimaced. He was right the first time. This place was not a place of worship; it was a place of mourning. A mausoleum. A tomb for the dead.

A chink of metal and hooves carried over the ruins. Battered golden and silver armour gleamed in the dark. Earth ponies began to join the pegasi as they scoured the ruins. A glitter of light came from far above, unicorns keeping a careful watch.

A jolt of adrenaline banished the smell. Gareth crouched low, watching.

The bulk of the forces moved to blockade the lowest stone block, barring easy access to the 'staircase'. There was a sudden shout; one of them had spotted the 'Neville'. The pegasus yelled at the inanimate debris, slamming a warning hoof into the ground.

Hilarious. Gareth smirked. 'Neville' wasn't the listening type, and was unlikely to 'drop' the glowing sword resting up against his side. Meanwhile, Gareth reached for a loop in his belt, slowly pulling out the crystal mace. He didn't want to have to use this, but if they turned out to be hostile, he wouldn’t have a choice. Now, let’s see how many take the bait.

Before long, the other ponies in the ruins began to turn towards the commotion.

That was his chance. He quickly glanced about, looking for a way up.

The guardsponies were professionals indeed. Stony-eyed guards kept watch over any easy access to the 'staircase'. Yet, none of them were guarding the stained glass windows in the fallen church's walls. The glowing faces and vignettes looked untarnished, still fully intact.

Maybe they still worked, too. Gareth glanced down at his glove. When he put his hand on that first window it went straight through, like a Mirror portal. It was just a guess, but the magic from those windows may have been what kept the walls so intact. He looked up.

Just one of the stained glass windows was still embedded in the unfallen church wall. The glass was hard to see from this distance and angle, but it seemed to depict a dog-like creature standing next to Cecilia.

Finding that dog-man's tomb would be Gareth’s way out. There'd be some climbing to do, of course. What’s more, he’d need to find a tomb that was close enough to the dog-man's, climb out of that one and into the dog-man's tomb. Still, any plan is better than no plan. And it’s only if these ponies turn out to be traitors, and that wasn’t certain, right?

Sharp whines of energy echoed through the chasm.

Gareth frowned, lifting his head. What on earth was--

A barrage of violent explosions ripped through the air.

Sound pounded into Gareth’s head, pierced his ear drums. He groaned, lifting a hand to his throbbing skull. He sucked in a breath, turning towards where the noise came from.

'Neville'... was now nothing more than a smoking crater. The pale green blade was gone, just like the rest of the rubble it had laid on. Meanwhile Gareth's glittering headguard lay half-buried in the dirt, charred and cracked in two.

His headguard… Celestia’s gift… gone. He remembered her giving that to him. A brush of her wings. A smile, a simple picnic. Now it was gone. They… they destroyed it. A flare lit up in his guts. Traitors. Of course, they were traitors.

Pega-guards and Earth-guards cautiously approached, picking through the remains. Meanwhile, Uni-guards chortled overhead, horns smoking and glowing with energy. All of them were watching the newly formed crater.

Blood pumping in Gareth’s ears, his fist clenced around the club. It was tempting to return the favour, but this was Gareth’s best chance, while they were distracted. He steadied himself, shifting around the side. Armour twisted and creaked as he jogged across the ruins.

His back slapped up against the nearest piece of cover, another wall. At a glance, he couldn’t see any of the guards.

His heart hammered in his chest. He ignored it, surveying the stained glass windows. One of them had to bring him closer to the dog-man’s tomb. Was there a timeline, or a narrative? The dog-man’s was near the entrance... perhaps it was one of the older ones?

Yet, looking through the windows, there didn’t seem to be any link. None of the husbands seemed to have any rhythm or technological improvement that he could follow. They almost seemed to be placed randomly.

Wait what if it wasn’t arranged in time, but in species? Or...

Clopping hooves echoed off the walls nearby.

A shiver raced up Gareth's spine. He crouched lower, praying that his armour hadn’t given him away. He hadn't thought this plan through at all. It was only a matter of time before they spotted him. No, he needed to pull back, think it over and--

A squawk of alarm filled the air. Gareth turned to see an Earth-guard transfixed in shock. Just behind him was a window depicting Cecilia and a laughing griffin in a jester's hat.

So much for planning. Letting out a low growl, Gareth rushing forward, bringing up his club in an diagonal swing.

A dull crack resounded off the Guard's face place. He slumped underneath, groaning.

The hammering in his chest increased, standing over the body with a club in his trembling hands. No, no he- surely he was still alive, right? Gareth crouched, pressing a hand on the stallion’s chest.

Rhythmic breathing pushed his furred chest in and out.

Gareth breathed out with him. A weight lifted off Gareth’s shoulders. He’ll be fine.

That’s when another group of guards rounded the corner.

Shit. He froze, staying perfectly still. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me, please don’t see--

They glanced between him and their friend, then bellowed out an alarm.

Gareth flinched at the bray, jolting to his feet. He back off as they approached, holding the club out. There was no way he could win this. He turned and sprinted towards the stained glass window. ONE of these has to get him closer!

Bright lights flashed before his eyes, receding into a dusty into an almost equally colourful tomb. It was fit to bursting as if decorated by a court jester. Bright colours, bells and other bizarre contraptions filled every empty space, even the walls. Well, half-filled, the part that was still intact that is. The rest spilled into the chasm's maw with the other half of the tomb.

Roars of alarm echoed up from the chasm. 'Grey Spear', 'Ucigas', and other less pleasant monikers accompanied the cries.

Dizziness rolled into Gareth's head and stomach. They were looking for him. Once they found him, they’d alert the unicorn and then…

English cannons thundered in Gareth’s ears.

No! Gareth shook his head. He had to focus! This place was nearly demolished, there had to be a way out!

And there was. One of the other tombs was close, within jumping distance in fact. A large hole in the side hinted at gold and marble embossed interiors.

Gareth sighed in relief. Finally, some good news. With some planning and proper run up he should be able to make it. Well, provided none of the pegasi got lucky and spotted him.

A pair of Uni-guard flew up over the tomb’s damaged floors. They stared at him for a second, before screaming out, "Ucigas!"

"Oh, just fuck right off!"

One of the yelling pegasi jabbed a forehoof at Gareth while the other yelled up to the Uni-guards above. They levelled their still-smoking horns, quickly accompanied by another sharp whine of energy.

The sound felt like burning flesh and tearing metal. English cannons. Gareth closed his eyes, pressing his club back into his belt’s loop, breathing deep. Lightning rushed from his heart to his bloody fingertips, steadying them, charging them. He opened his eyes, and jumped.

Leather and metal crashed as Gareth landed boot-first onto the crypt’s floor. The tomb looked as nice as from the outside: elaborate, beautiful.

Ignoring the pain lancing up his leg, Gareth staggered forward, away from the gaping hole behind him. A momentary smirk came to Gareth's lips. At least he'd found a nice place to be blown to bits.

Then the whine of energy came to a crescendo. Explosions ripped into the tomb around him, shredding stone, silk and gold. Rocks and sound slammed into his body.

Something punched his face. Everything went black.

When Gareth opened his eyes, he was on the floor. His helmet’s visor was bent on the right side. Everything was ringing.

A nauseous pressure pushed up the underside of his chin. Gareth choked the rising bile back down, crawling forward. What hit him? With a groan, he felt along his distorted visor.
What ever it was, it hit him hard enough to warp metal. There were still pieces of pulverised rock flaking off.

He had to get out of here. Trembling hands pushed Gareth back to his feet. He didn’t dare look back. Such destruction… all just to kill him.

The glass window stood before him, depicting Cecilia next to a well-dressed unicorn. They looked happy.

No time to think. Gareth lurched through.

When he exited the portal the world turned diagonal.

Breath forced from Gareth’s lungs as he flopped to one knee. He immediately struggled back up.

The same Traitor-guards from before were standing on either side of the Jester’s window. Each glanced at it, watching as the magic slowly lost its lustre.

The ringing in Gareth’s ears started to subside, replaced by a clarity. They were… they were destroying everything. No, they WOULD destroy everything. As cowardly as it was, running was probably the best way to get them to stop.

One of the Traitor-guards finally noticed him. He spluttered at Gareth to halt.

Gareth wasn’t listening. He spotted the next closest window and staggered towards it.

A pegasus leapt in front of the portal, wings wide. A pair of Earth-guards rushed Gareth's side, heads lowering.

Grim determination cleared his mind. He pulled the club from his belt loop, sucked in a breath, then turned his stagger into a charge.

The Pega-guard rushed, trying to cut him off.

Gareth waited until the last moment, then pushed his full body into a upwards swing.

A crystalline crunching noise ensued as the club battered into the Pega-guard’s side, sending him stumbling into his fellows.

Glancing back, Gareth would have found the scene funny if he wasn’t fighting for his life. He turned, stepping through the window.

Bright colours once more burned Gareth’s sight. Lights gave way to a new tomb containing a distinctly French design to it. What's more; it looked intact.

Wait, intact? Sweat prickled Gareth's skin. If he couldn't find a way to climb out of this tomb then it was a dead end. He grit his teeth, looking over the corners. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave the way he came.

"STOP!"

Shit. Gareth turned back, lowering his club in a deceptively open stance. Sweat was turning to slime in his gloves.

The trio of Traitor-guards exited out the window and faced Gareth down, clapping their forehooves into the stone in a hostile staccato.

Though he took a half-step back, Gareth wasn’t afraid. He wasn't going to be the one to make the first move, and he wasn’t going to provoke them. This was their choice. No killing.

With a trio of battle cries, the Traitor-guards charged.

His mind clear, Gareth raised his club.

The pegasus flew straight at his face, forehooves out.

Ducking low, Gareth flicked the club up and smashing into the Pega-guard's wing.

The Pega-guard let out a yelp of panic, spiralling into the wall, cracking masonry and sliding to the floor with a dazed groan. Deep spiderwebs crawled across the wall; a few rocks broke free, revealing the chasm on the other side.

If that broke just a little more…

The two Earth-guards rushed Gareth on either side, flanking him. They let out a pair of animalistic growls, readying to send four bucking hooves into his spine.

But Gareth was ready for them. Without missing a beat, he swayed forward and turned to smash them across their snouts.

The Earth-guards yelped in agony, cringing back and holding their broken muzzles.

That’s all he needed. Gareth sprinted past, winding the club over his shoulder and bring it down into the weakened wall.

Stone and crystal fragments exploded, sprinkling off Gareth's helmet. The wall crumbled into the depths below.

Dust scraped Gareth’s lungs, extracting a cough or two. He quickly punched loose rocks aside, peering through the smoke to find something, anything he could jump to.

Through the dust was another tomb. This one looked to be the most destroyed yet, it was almost entirely emptied with only a tiny portion for him to jump on. Looking down…

Air froze in Gareth's lungs. He was near the church now, over a hundred yards up, and he didn't fancy his chances living through that drop a second time. Yet… that tomb was only a few yards away.

Staggered growling came from behind. The Earth-guards beared down on him, blood dripping from their faces.

Gareth looked down at his club only to find that it been reduced to a useless stump.

They saw it too. A predatory grin appeared on their muzzles.

Useless peice of shit! Gareth turned and scrambled up into the hole, boots tearing at the rocks which crumbled underneath him. He had only seconds before the wall fell either dropping him backwards into a tomb where a pair of ponies planned to crush his skull, or forward into a chasm that would send his knees into his ribcage.

Rocks crumbled. Ponies roared. English cannons.

Vertigo touched Gareth’s head, pushing him off centre. His feet wobbled, trying to keep him standing. He didn’t have a choice. Gareth pushed down into a crouch and jumped.

Wind whistled through his jingling chain. His outstretched hands reached for the stony outcropping.

He wasn't going to make it.

The very edge of the stone floors slapped into Gareth's hands. Immediately his body clenched down, swinging into the crystal wall.

Weightlessness tugged down at Gareth’s legs while fire burned up his arms and back. Coughing and wheezing, he dragged himself up over the side, crawling in as far as he could.

The pair of Earth-guards from the crypt behind him climbed into the hole that Gareth had just leapt out of. They looked around, measuring the jump. They quickly realised that they didn't have a hope of making it. Within moments, they began to helplessly scream and shout expletives.

Still trying to catch his breath, Gareth found himself smiling. Ignoring them, he stood and looked around.

Besides a rod-mounted tapestry and a 'floor' reduced to a tiny outcropping, Gareth was right the first time, there really was nothing here. Whatever 'theme' this tomb had, was now scattered across the chasm's floors.

Well, he'd best take a look at the glass window portal, perhaps—

Set into the wall was the picture of the dog-man and Cecilia.

A relieved smiled forced its way onto Gareth's lips. Unbelievable.

Unlike the others, the dog-man and Cecilia weren't facing each other, they faced off against an army of black shapes and figures. The dog-man's coat was… golden, holding a quarterstaff in his hands. Meanwhile, Cecilia looked far different. Her mane was a solid pink with no wings on her back. Regardless, both of them looked ready to fight to the death.

Wait, stop. Gareth’s hand froze just over the window. There was still those bombarding Uni-guards. Stepping through the window only to be reduced to a fine grey smear would just be embarrassing at this point. Still, he wasn't going to get past them bare handed, if only he had a spear or a staff to keep them at bay.

A metallic tapping came from behind. The tapestry flowed in the wind, the metal rod holding it up occasionally bounced off the wall.

Perfect. Gareth reached up, ripping the tapestry down and tearing the fabric away. A few experimental twirls revealed that the rod was light and hollow, perhaps made of copper. It wasn’t going to last long, nor was it particularly balanced, but it was better than wailing on ponies with his bare hands.

The Earth-guards began to yell louder, angrily pointing at him. Those shouts were punctuated by a high-pitched whine…

Oh crap! Gareth tucked the rod under one arm, clenched his eyes closed and hopped through the stained glass window.

Boots met stone. Seconds later, flakes of stone and metal showered over his back.

Gareth opened his eyes, quickly bringing the rod to bear.

A dozen Uni-guards stood over the edge of the broken church. They peered over the sides, squinting to the depths as their smoking horns cooled down from a cherry-red. Instead of being blasted into oblivion, none of them so much as glanced over in Gareth's direction.

Freezing still, Gareth watched the guards. He glanced to the entrance.

The front door to the church was right there, unguarded, just a dozen yards away.

Deciding not to question his stroke of luck, Gareth slowly, slowly, inched over to the door. Each step letting out a chink of chain and a clink of metal, but the Uni-guards paid it no mind. The moment he got to the door, he glanced outside.

The way to the Mirror portal was clear. No-one was guarding it.

Did they think that he was one of their compatriots? Almost casually, Gareth stepped outside, grabbed the door, and started to pull it closed.

He barely had to try, after the initial tug the door closed on its own. Even after the door closed with a low, stony grinding noise, there was no noise or commotion on the other side. They hadn't even noticed that Gareth slipped past.

Blinking, nonplussed, Gareth turned and made his way over to the portal. It was not a good idea to linger. While the closed church door would at least slow down the Uni-guards and Earth-guards, there was still plenty of room for the Pega-guards to fly over the church's half-destroyed walls.

A low groan of pain came from the remains of the camp.

Gareth turned, pulling the rod up into a combat stance.

Inside were a dozen bound and gagged ponies. They laid unconscious on the dusty floor, beaten, bloodied and bruised. Whatever happened here, they clearly put up a fight. A pile of discarded armour lay just a few yards away from them.

Frowning, Gareth took a step closer to the Mirror portal. They could have been Loyalists… or they could be Traitors who quarrelled with their new masters. Either way, he didn't have time to check to make sure. The Mirror portal was waiting.

"H-hey!" A shout came from the side of the camp. A solitary Uni-guard stood, staring at Gareth with wide eyes.

Gareth didn't think: he charged, screaming a battle cry.

The Uni-guard face twisted into shock, backpedalling. His horn glowed yellow, charging up a spell and blasting it in Gareth's direction.

Without breaking stride, Gareth jumped left, letting the beam sail wide. Reversing his grip, he brought the rod around in a full-body swing.

The sound of crunching metal filled the camp as the Uni-guard's head whipped back. He slumped to the ground, groaning as his limbs writhed uselessly in the air.

Gareth cautiously approached, watching the Uni-guard's bloodied nose and mouth.

A puff of hair shifted the dust the Uni-guard lay in.

Still alive. Gareth breathed a relieved sigh. He looked down at the tapestry rod.

… Which had unfortunately bent in half from the blow.

With a disgusted growl, Gareth discarded it and marched back to the portal.

The Mirror portal wasn't glowing anymore.

A pit opened in Gareth's stomach. He rushed forward, thrusting his hand through.

Nothing. No tingling, no light. Nothing. The portal was closed.

Gareth glanced back. The Uni-guard wasn't aiming at him.

Yells echoed from the church behind him. The Uni-guards inside began to bang on the closed door.

Gareth sunk to his knees, staring at the ground in a daze. No. No no no, this couldn't be it!

The banging got louder. Flapping wings rose up from the chasm.

NO! He thrust his hands in the base of the Mirror portal, brushing away dust, trying to find something. A rune, a-a message, Equestrian words, something, ANYTHING!

The dust revealed only a solid metal frame.

Gareth went numb. This couldn’t be it.

A high-pitched whine echoed over the walls.

This couldn’t be how it ends...