The Silent had all but forgotten his wound. It didn’t pain him anymore, and it wasn’t as if he was going to start talking any time soon. The bandage around his throat had been recently changed after the blood had stopped weeping from the long gash, the wound now beginning to heal itself healthily. The medi-foam the apothecary had applied to the wound had worked well at regenerating his windpipe, allowing him to breathe just as he would normally. The Silent kept solid footing as the inside of the storm eagle shook from turbulence, his eyes fixed on the holo-display depicting the capital city of this alien country. The defending forces were putting up a strong fight, especially considering that the devastator squads had run out of ammunition hours ago, having to take to their sidearm’s and combat blades. The Silent would aid his brothers as best as he could, but not before seeing a certain task complete first.

The Silent would arrive in a courtyard, the only one that was large enough to accommodate the huge aircraft he travelled in, and then proceed to escort a group of civilians to the frigate docked on the other side of the city. The Silent had hoped the ship would allow the dropship to dock in one of its hangars, but the hundred or so insectoids that were scratching and gnawing to get into the belly of the craft made opening any doors very troublesome. The last thing a ship needed was two dozen xenos scuttling the inside of its hull. With him would be two battle brothers, brother Xinor and brother Derelis. Derelis had been briefed to focus his efforts on ‘bug-repellent’, his flamer being ideal for discouraging any swarms that thought the civilians looked tasty enough. Silent had replenished his ammo, as did his companions, and even found time to finish a prayer for safe travels.

The Silent turned to look at the civilians, all of whom had taken a place in a flight seat. They looked quite comical as their harnesses were far too large to support them properly. Especially for the small child that travelled alongside her mother, who fitted the large hydraulic harness like a toothpick fit a scabbard. The child seemingly enjoyed every second of her journey in the craft, her bright eyes peering about giddily as her sight explored the wealthy collection of exotic machinery. The roar of the storm eagles’ engine began to wind down to a growl as they made their descent, slowing down to make their landing.

“30 seconds pretty boy!” Called Xinor.

The Silent took well to his nickname. Despite his climb through the ranks, superior and initiate alike knew him by it. His title ‘The Silent’ was rarely used, mostly in formal situations. The Silent had taken a self-served penance of silence, which he rarely broke, after his failure to capture a heretic warlord two decades ago. Although the chapter council judged his failure as only a minimal tactical disadvantage, and released him with practically no punishment, The Silent had felt it necessary to sacrifice his voice to pay for his crime. The truth was he barely uttered a word before his failure, no one even knew his name. Even he forgot his birth title at times, a condition that concerned the company champion somewhat. Ten seconds to deployment and The Silent fastened his helmet, tactical display flickering to life as it reconnected to the rest of his armours system.

The craft hit the city grounds, its suspension rocking it a second after landing. The rows of harnesses hissed as their machinery released the civilians from their steel grip, the passengers warily taking a stand and shuffling towards the front of the ship.

“We will keep a constant, steady pace to the evacuation point. Myself and The Silent will lead you while brother Xinor covers the rear. Do not fall behind. If you grow tired, look to your gods to lend you strength. If we come under attack ensure you keep a fair distance from active weapons and take to whatever cover you can find.” Derelis announced as the frontal loading ramp dropped open.

If any of the civilians had any objections they were not to be heard as the space marines disembarked down the ramp, the civilians following close behind. Around them a broken Canterlot lay defiled and scarred, entire streets cracked in half and buildings brought down to rubble. Gunfire and muffled explosions haunted the air whilst the ever darkening evening was brightened with the flashes of bolter fire. The city glowed with an eerie orange light as fire raged throughout the city, and the odd roar of engines was heard as an aircraft flew over head. Stone statues and sculptures that had taken weeks to craft had been broken and disfigured everywhere, it seemed not a single thing that had been built had not suffered some degree of damage.

The Silent put his helmet on; seeing its infrared enhancement would help the group navigate the dark streets more easily. His HUD flickered to life as the helmet locked onto his armours neck seal. The deep orange displays darted about his vision, highlighting tactical hotspots and outlining every structure with an orange grid. He held his sword aloft before thrusting it forward, signalling the group to move before breaking into a light jog himself. Behind him the rest eagerly followed, the orange coated ranch-hand seemingly taking a leadership position behind The Silent.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“DRIVE ME CLOSER!” Yelled a fanatical sergeant, waving his power sword forwards as he rode atop a rhino tank.

The Silent and his group had reached the epicentre of the warzone, a zone they needed to cut through before reaching the awaiting craft. Behind the growling armoured vehicle charged another ten battle brothers, all with chainswords raised high in the hunger to claim the first kill. About the clustered buildings of the cities centre assault marines soared from rooftop to rooftop on their bulky jump packs. In the alleyways waited wide-eyed squads of royal guard, spears held up to drive any changelings back out into the open streets. The Silent sent a burst of bolt rounds into a swarm of insectoids that flew close by, sending the survivors scattering in all directions. The Silent swung his shielded arm forward and headed out into the main road, Derelis sweeping high and low with his flamers sights, but finding no nearby targets. Once sure the area was reasonably secure they signalled the rest forward and into the road. The Silent headed towards the building highlighted by his HUD as a rally point. The building looked to be a shopping centre, as schematics showing it having dozens of smaller rooms within its massive tunnelling complex. Hi reached the closed wooden gates and firmly knocked his armoured fist against it, saluting towards an unblinking servo skull keeping watch from a window above. The doors creaked and slowly swung open, The Silent letting the civilians through first while he and his brothers covered the entrance.

Once inside The Silent let himself relax slightly. The doorway slammed closed again, two guards locking it up again as quickly as they could. After walking a while and marching through a checkpoint guarded by eight of the mortal soldiers and one space marine armed with a nicely decorated multi-melta, The Silent came to the cities refuge centre. Mortals everywhere held to their loved ones and flinched as their wounds were treated. Makeshift beds were crammed together to fit all the refugees in, most shoulder to shoulder. A little way through The Silent came across Apothecary Idisor tending to some injured guard. The medical expert held a limp guards head up to a beautifully crafted golden goblet, the mortal weakly drinking the ingestible medi-compound mixture within. Alerted by the heavy footsteps approaching Idisor looked up before setting the guard back to his bed.

“Brothers, Veranus is just a few hundred metres away, but I fear that the heart of the battle lies between you and the boarding post. You’ll need assistance, I’ll radio ahead to clear you a path.” The apothecary said while, kneeling to aid another fallen guard.

“The rest of the civilians will need to go with you brothers! The battle is to finish soon, but I have no doubt the remains of the attacking force will seek to break through those doors. Myself and Thorbus will defend the injured who are unable to move.”

The Silent gave a sharp nod, while Xinor turned to the civilians.

“Now hear this! Those of you able to travel, come with us! This is the last group the frigate will take!” Xinor boomed across the refuge, turning many heads.

The vast majority of civilians fumbled for their belongings and made hurried headcounts before setting off after the marines who had already started off to the exit. Through the next checkpoint The Silent waved off the guard who readied themselves to haul the doors open. With little effort he swung the double doors open, and not a second after ended up having to slam his shield into the oncoming fanged mouth of a changeling. Marine and changeling were engaged in close combat, green gore flying in vast sprays across the road. Chainsword and blade bit clean through the creatures’ fragile bodies, their thin exoskeleton crunching and breaking like pastry. Derelis threw liquid fire into the skies, setting dozens of the insects alight. The burning bodies fell from the sky mid-flight, then squealed and thrashed as the flames tortured them. The Silent found it comical how their bodies would pop open after a couple of seconds, their insides obviously boiling at a catastrophic level. The mortals behind him covered their ears and clenched their eyes shut in horror, green blood being washed over them.

“Keep moving! Follow our champion!” Xinor barked.

The civilians rushed in a mob behind The Silent who took up a charge towards the buildings near the cities air-docks, his power sword carving wide arches through the air as his dismembered and decapitated as he ran. At his sides his brothers valiantly held back the vile creatures by the dozen, heavy boot crushing and angry chainsword chewing as they kept the road ahead as clear as they could. The Silent noticed a spot of colour in the sea of black and green that the changelings made up, the anomaly catching his eye. It was a civilian, a lone mortal drowning in the ocean of xenos. The Silent kept his pace up, confident one of his brothers would aid the helpless native. Then another crying civilian caught The Silents’ sight, and another, and another. The Silents expression became that of a panicked confusion as soon there were as many mortals as attackers, anilentd just a few seconds later even more. After several seconds The Silent came to a sharp hault along with his group at the sight of hundreds of crying, pleading mortal who cowered before the mighty space marines before them. His battle brothers remained statues, frozen in utter confusion at how so many civilians had appeared, and at how the swarms of xenos had apparently vanished.

The Silents’ eyes widened as he looked to the crowds, and looked to his group, seeing the same set of faces copied a hundred fold. They were illusions, just camouflage, just an imitation of the real civilians that now looked about in worry.

“They’re just copying us! They aren’t real!” Called a purple civilian psyker near the middle of the group.

“Brothers, do not fall for their deception! Let your thermal vision see through their cowardly sorcery!” Derelis shouted round before washing away several pleading changeling mimics with his flamer.

Again the fighting ignited, space marines shouting vicious curses at the false civilians for such ignoble magic. The majority of the changelings returned to their former, gruesome selves again in a flash of green flame. The Silent blinked his thermal vision rune to activate and witnessed how the changelings showed up cold on the spectrum, glowing a pale green opposed to the civilians’ oranges and reds. With less than a hundred yards to the docks The Silent came to a hault and shot a flurry of bolts into the crowds of changelings, letting the mortals and his brother run passed him before following them to the docks entrance.

The entrance was a wide archway that must have been quite beautiful before being peppered with bolt holes and cracked open by some explosive. In the archway stood a single marine, bolter chattering away in controlled bursts, surrounded by all the cities crossbowmen. The guard worked nonstop in a routine of winding up their firearms then firing, sending a slow rate of fire into changelings that drew too near to the docks. The marine however was the bulk of the firepower that was being pushed into the oncoming ranks of attackers, bolter fire bursting open the six foot tall insects in a gory display of merciless defence. The Silent once again waited for the mortals to vault over the tiny wall of sandbags and wreckage before taking a long step over it himself.

He led the group through a short maze of corridors to a waiting room filled with at least thirty other civilians, bringing the total to over fifty at their arrival. Near the doors that led to the docks stood another space marine, who upon seeing his brothers arrive radioed the ship to let them know they needed to open their doors one last time.

“Let’s not wait around brother, one more run and we can focus on getting this mess cleaned up.” Said the marine at The Silents’ approach.

Suddenly the room exploded with cries of panic and wails of despair. The Silent pushed his way through the crowd to see the problem, finding the majority of civilians crowding around something worth observing. The Silent reached the centre of the crowd to find several mortals tending to one, much larger individual. He took a wild guess and assumed this was one of the countries two matriarchs he had been informed of. Upon closer observation, he spotted another larger individual was one of the civilians tending to the other, which he also assumed was the other. The both of them were injured, the one on the floor grimacing as her sister held a cloth to her bleeding stomach obviously in direr need of assistance. The white one on the floor was conscious and attempting to reassure her subjects that she was not badly injured, while the dark blue one urged the civilians to keep their distance.

“I’m fine Twilight, please, calm down. I assure you it’s just a scratch.” The white princess said soothingly to the purple female at her side, who was clutching her hand tightly.

“Princess, you’re covered in scratches! This is a serious wound! We need to get you help!” The purple civilian replied in panic.

Xinor pushed through the crowd and marched passed The Silent to kneel beside the fallen princess.

“This is not a very serious injury ma’am, but I would advise we get you to the ship to dress the wound.” Xinor said while scooping up the matriarch.

“Ma’am? I’m...I’m not a ma’am! I don’t look that old! Luna, do I look that old?” The white princess called to her sister.

“That depends sister, how old do I look?!” The other replied with a concerned grin.

Both were dressed in elaborate, yet highly impractical armour, which did more as a fashion statement than personal protection. They had apparently seen a their fair share of action, as their golden and obsidian armour bore a number of cuts and dents, just as many as their flesh did. Both princesses bled from a number of small injuries, but nothing that would impede their movement or health; aside from the deep gash the white one had received. Xinor reached the door and nodded at the battle brother that stood by it, the said marine raising his bolter to the door in response.

Xinor kicked the door open, the wood splintering as if a grenade had just gone off behind it, sending the remains scattering about the marketplace that led to the docks. Xinor broke into a full sprint alongside the battle brother that provided his bolter where Xinor was unable to use his. The rest of the group kept up to the best of their abilities, but ended up falling behind within seconds. The Silent signalled for the group to pick up the pace and began to gain speed. A little while later Veranus came into clear view around the corner, its enormous hull making the native airships look like toys. A swarm of changelings sped round the front of the ship, Derelis responding in kind by sprinting ahead of the group, stopping to blast away the creatures with his flamer. The black, gold and red of Veranus grew larger and larger until the ramp that extended from the frigates lower hangar bay way just seconds away. As soon as Xinors’ boot hit the steel ramp the hangar doors whined open, a warning siren blaring from within as orange beacons twirled wildly. From within the doors strode three battle brother adorned with tactical dreadnought armour, their hulking frames marching forward to cover the approaching refugees.

The Silent gave a nod to the terminator sergeant as he ran passed, the other two spewing bolts from their storm bolters. The Silents highly attuned ears picked up the gleeful cry of the child the grey female had been carrying, the small girl finding the gigantic terminators to be ‘awesome’. The marine and civilians had made it through the blast doors, and with that the terminators retreated back into the belly of the ship as the doors the size of thunderhawks ground to a close for a final time. The Silent deemed that a very successful run.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Immolatus squad reports the creatures are retreating, but some have taken to flying into the engines of our gunships. Is this something you would have expected?” The space marine that dressed Celestias wounds asked, his voice a synthetic growl from beneath his looming death mask.

“I’ve studied changelings for hundreds of years, even been attacked by them, but this is completely out of charac- OW!” Celestia yelped as the marine pressed some form of syringe into her wound.

“I did say this might be unpleasant. Do you think there is anything that could have provoked such an attack from all three of these factions? From what I’ve heard your peaceful lands would not have played a part in such a thing, but what about foreign forces?”

“You mean something attacking their empires first?” Celestia inquired through a clenched jaw as white foam was pumped into the deep cut.

“Yes, perhaps another invading force drove these creatures from their homes in the first place.” The marine proposed before withdrawing the instrument and switching it for another.

“I doubt that, otherwise we would have seen the changeling queen, goblin king and the griffin general. Which reminds me-”

“Conflicts in the griffin city have gone well. Captain Titus and his command squad have breached the citadel whilst the support squads have secured the palace and its grounds.” The marine replied before Celestia could finish.

“You guys sure do know your warfare. What are you going to do when this is all over?” Luna inquired from the surgical table across from Celestia.

Luna had been patched up in under a minute, the marine simply applying some strange gel substance on her cuts before starting his work on Celestia.

“Well, firstly clean up the mess we’ve made. I’m sure you can expect some new imperial decor. Then we’ll just wait until our chapter fleet arrives, unless another incident like this occurs.” The marine replied.

He walked back to Celestia holding something that looked like a can opener, which made Celestia hope she wasn’t in any need of ‘opening’. He placed the cold instrument on Celestias toned stomach, activating the device so that it projected some kind of laser reticule onto her. With a snap the princess winced as a sharp pain burnt into her wound. The process repeated six more timed before the machine whined, bringing with it a sickly squelch sound, before ending with a click as the marine withdrew the instrument. Celestia looked down to see her wound being held tightly closed by seven thick stitches. The soldier took a white cloth soaked in some form of oil and cleaned the wound with care before turning to fetch a golden chalice.

“This will taste strange,” He said as he handed the drink to Celestia.

Celestia took the drink, the goblets cup the size of a punch bowl and as heavy as a microwave. Celestia took a hesitant sip to find the taste similar to drinking cough medicine mixed with toothpaste. The princess took one generous gulp before gently whipping her lips and handing the chalice back.

“What was that?” Celestia asked after pardoning a very unprincessy belch.

“A mixture of viral nano-healing organisms and defensive cells similar to your white blood cells. It should ensure your wound won’t lead to any internal infection or bleeding.”

Celestia groaned as she spun on the operating table and dropped her hooves to the floor. Luna quickly rushed to her side to steady her sister. Celestia gained her balance and walked round the table to head to the door.

“If you wouldn’t mind showing us to where our subjects are?” Celestia asked.

“Of course.” The marine replied with a nod before leading the sisters out the medical ward.

The walk through the ships interior was very strange, the interior designs very alien and quite grim. Skulls and depictions of penance and sacrifice were sculpted and carved into the walls of the vast corridors, the ceilings bearing dim lights in the form of chained lanterns. About Ponyvilles length of corridor and a couple of empty halls later the trio walked through a pair of double door gates as high as a hydra and into what seemed to be an alien depiction of heaven.

Atop the ship sat a town, a town made of gleaming marble and shining gold. It appeared as several ramps leading up to the deck, two towers topped with heavy weapons to each ramp entrance. With the circle of ramps was a collection a larger defence towers, bunkers and armouries of some description. However towards the front of this collection, nearly half way down the ship stood a huge monastery or chapel of some kind, boasting a dozen defence towers as well as a gun the size of the princesses’ palace on its top. Over the edge of the ship Celestia spotted Equestrias hills and fields, surprisingly close as well. What looked like all of Canterlot and ponyville was bustling about the collection of buildings, chatting and reuniting in a sea of activity. The princesses carefully walked down the steady ramp and were met with Equestria warm morning breeze.

“Princess!”
“Princess! Are you all right?!”
“The princesses are here!”
“Your majesties, thank you for saving us!”

The crowds of ponies swarmed the royal sisters in care and thanks, the bearers of harmony at the front of the crowd all eagerly awaiting the princesses’ words.

“My little ponies, please do not threat. My sister and I are very well thanks to our gracious saviours. They are the ones who deserve your thanks; they are the ones who have saved your country.” Celestia announced as she gestured to the space marine at her side.

Only the giant soldier wasn’t at her side any more, and must have left her a while back as he had seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Celestia looked about a second before letting out a sigh and turning back to her subjects.

“So, can anypony show me around? I would like a sit down and a drink.” Celestia asked gently.

A wave of acceptance washed over the sisters and immediately the equestrians cleared the way down the metal ramp to the courtyard. The princesses were shown to the centre of the complex and taken to a water feature the size of Twilights’ library. Golden statues of winged aliens flying to the sky surrounded by their winged young stood at the centre, their hands grasping slack jawed skulls whose mouths shot crystal clear water into a shallow pool below. In the pool played dozens of fillies and colts, none older than ten. Some simply splashed each other with the shimmering water, others sat talking at the pools edge and several even marvelled at the shining statues that loomed over them.

Celestia scooped a handful of water to her mouth, and even had the desperation to pour some water over her face and shoulders to sooth her wounds. Luna did likewise only to be caught by a stray splash made by a group of fillies, only to splash back playfully. Fluttershy took the liberty to inspect Celestias worst wound only to find nothing more she could do to help. A number of alien drones and servants floated and shuffled about the ship’s deck, carrying scripture and cargo from building to building. The adult ponies kept their distance from the strange creatures, continuing to gossip about Equestrias latest arrivals.

“I saw it, one of them held back seven changelings with one arm while he fired his fire-crossbow into a dozen others!”
“One of them threw a griffin through town hall! I mean it, right through both walls!”
“Yeh, he saved me and my little muffin! He even go cut on the neck, but he didn’t fall, he just kept on fighting!”
“Did you see those big weapons that shot blue suns?! I saw one turn a warship into orange goo!”
“It was so scary, their swords eat things! I mean, they actually have metal teeth that chew on whatever it hits!”

Celestia would have dismissed such banter as over exaggeration, but knew all these claims to be true. Her sister and she had fought at the gates of their palace with magical swords alongside her personal guard. At first the battle had gone easily, the marines thinning the changeling ranks to just a lucky few that made it passed the wall. After the ammo had run clean the enemies numbers soared to the hundreds. Celestia was very large and extremely well muscled, her strength and stature making her superior to a changeling in every way. But even a superior royal alicorn such as her stood little chance against the tidal wave of changelings. After a desperate battle that seemed lost, the space marines posted at Ponyville had won the fight and had come to support the city. Celestia remembered all too well how in a blur of dark blue a space marine had single handily acted as a freight train and charged through twenty changelings, just before the other hundred were blown into sticky chunks of meat and exoskeleton.

It was shortly after that, while fighting besides the mighty giants did Celestia fall into a trick which would sorely wound her. Luna had helped get her sister to her feet and to the docks, which had led her to this place, this strange craft. It was the size of a city, metal and stone forged into a war engine that could turn all of Equestria into a scorched wasteland. Such might made Celestia feel like a little filly again, yet for all its might, all the power it held such a creation was being used a floating hotel for refugees. Celestia had just noticed how the marble floor had a faint picture engraved within it, a large image of an armour-less marine holding up a lantern as miniature planets orbited him in a sea of stars. Celestia flicked her gravity-defying mane up as she looked around at the buildings once again, the icy blue glow of the stained glass windows on each of the alien structures along with the clean white marble and liquid-like gold and angelic music that emanated from skull shaped speakers emerging from the buildings corners made her feel almost comfortable in such a place.

Such a place was almost beyond reality, its design and quality so flawless it made Celestias palace look like a tree house. The alicorn decided to stand and head over to the large chapel towards the middle of the ship, refusing any offered assistance with a warm smile. After a short, and slow walk Celestia arrived to find its gates wide open, yet nopony had built enough courage to enter. Inside the building was even brighter than the sun lit courtyard. It was as if Celestia had died and gone to pony heaven. The room was lit from every direction, not a single shadow in sight, and the decor was absolutely otherworldly. The ceiling was diamond, perfect diamond cut to reflect each individual colour on the known spectrum, forming a brilliant tornado of crystalline colours. A huge statue of a long haired, robed alien stood at the end of the building pillar ridden hall, the statue looking down at the ground with an expression which was could only be described as a stern pity. Following the princess in was her sister and the dozens of ponies.

The masses ‘Oooh’d’ and ‘Aaah’d’ at the intricate carvings populating the large pillars along with the variety of crystal sculptures. The little fillies and colts ran wild around the inside of the building, exploring every corner and touching everything that was shiny enough to catch their attention. There was no sign of any seating arrangement or resting area, the only furniture being a tall altar towards the rear of the building. Celestia braved a look at the polished sculpture, carved into an alien holding a roof of skulls above him. Atop the altar was a large, open book, its pages stained with age and writing completely unreadable. Their handwriting was peculiar, but quite relatable to equestrian text, being a line of sharp scribbles, loops and dots. The princess dared not touch the book, the last thing she wanted to do was insult a race of warrior-monks.

“I have to admit to thee sister; we are impressed by such wondrous architecture.” Luna admitted as she walked up beside her sister.

“I trust these people Luna. Look at all they’ve done for us. Look at all they are. They are strange indeed, but somewhat similar to us in certain ways.” Celestia replied, gesturing about her to the beautiful building around them.

“I know sister, but we can’t stop feeling awkward around them. Their motives are most unclear, and they’re so....artificial. Like they hath no concern for themselves.”

“They’re like Frankenstables’!” Called a high pitched voice beside them.

Celestia and Luna both looked over in surprise to see the bearer of laughter, Pinkie Pie.

“Excuse us?” Luna inquired.

“Y’know, Frankenstables’ monster! They’ve been cut up and changed to be something different from what they were. But unlike Frankenstables monster, they chose to be bigger, better, faster, stronger.” Pinkie pie chimed whilst imitating the last part with robotic arm movements.

“They chose to get all changed and become different so nopony else had to. I mean, can you imagine how different Equestria would be if they hadn’t been here to help us? Sure they’re all loud and ‘fighty’, but deep down they’re just like ponies who want to help others. Like Frankenstables’ monster, they’re not really bad; it’s just everypony gets scared because they’re so different. And not to mention smelly!”

Luna and Celestia were utterly taken aback along with all those who heard Pinkies ridiculously accurate and plausible theory.

“That...was a very enlightening speech Miss Pie. I think you actually explained that perfectly.” Celestia said with a smile, her eyebrow raised in surprise.

“Of course I did! I dressed up as Frankenstable two Nightmare Nights’ ago!” Pinkie replied beaming, turning to skip off gleefully.

Pinkie skipped towards the main entrance only to stop just a couple of hops away.

“Oh, hi Mr Titus! I hope your vacation was super awesome! What’s that you got the-...Eeeeeeww!!! Gross!!! It’s aaaaall over your hand and everything!” Pinkie yelled as Captain Titus strode up to her with half a dozen marines behind him.

“I thought you’d like it.” Titus chuckled as he marched passed her, through the crowd and faced Celestia.

“It would seem we have an alternate theory on how your country was afflicted with the presence of daemons!” Titus called over to the sister as he held up something a bright cream colour and dripping with slime.

In his metal grasp was held a familiar face, or skull to be exact. The bony cranium bore sharp, unnatural features along with two pairs of eyes and a crown of twisting horns. It dripped with a thick purple slime that dribbled all over its surface and off its rows of sharp fangs, it’s very presence forcing her ponies to shuffle away in disgust and fright.

“And the griffin general?” Celestia asked with a nervous gulp.

“Dead. But by his own hand, and long before we had arrived at the steps of his palace. I’m afraid your country will need to be quarantined while we inspect surrounding countries. For now, our ship will land outside the town near the forest. We have a lot of cleaning up to do.”

Titus turned to the civilians.

“The battle is won!”