"Wh-wh- who are you!?" Kivsin gasped. The hold of the burning unicorn was only very warm despite their whipping, orange and yellow mane and tail. He pushed himself away and ran for the edge of the roof and readied to jump but couldn't open his wings. He never could.

"Kivsin, it's me, Twilight!" She caught him as he jumped, wings or not, and fought him to stop panicking. She enveloped him in her wings, bit down on the preexisting holes in his neck and he froze in fear. Her glaring, bright red eyes pierced him as her muzzle brushed against his chin. She steadily let go when he appeared to calm down.

“Master… I-I’m sorry!” He cowardly backed away.

“Don’t be. I can’t quite stomach this either.”

“You… you look, impressive.”

His docile nature didn’t make her feel any better. “Thanks. So uh, flying. Do you think you can teach me?”

He sweat bullets but could not refuse his owner. “I suppose I could.”

Kivsin tried to open his wings again but the bones locked up. Every joint was bent backward and the skin was stretched where it shouldn't be. She took a wing and, judging by her knowledge of wing anatomy, resolved to simply pull hard, snapping and popping, and all the bones shifted back into place like an intricate lock. He screamed shortly and held it back, biting his lip just short of making it bleed. He beat his wing like it was on fire. Before he could protest, Twilight yanked on the other, playing another melody of crackling bones and he stretched them to wear out the pain. The rolling of those joints that had for years been still and unused felt strange and uncomfortable. The sliding of his once removed flesh against his muscles felt disgusting.

"Now up!" Twilight threw him in the air and like instinct, his wings snapped open and he caught himself in a hover.

“Thank you, master!” He was so enthralled by his returned ability, he threw his forelegs around her and suddenly felt sick when he realized what he did. She returned the gesture before he could lose it.

“You’re welcome! Now how many times do I have to tell you, it’s okay? An accidental bump, if you’re hurt, you don’t have to act like I’m going to kill you if you need me. You’re more than just some slave. You’re my friend and I’m there for you.” She set him down and pretended to be formal. “Now if you please, my mentor.”

The residual toxins in Kivsin’s head burned as he was thought hard about what she said.

Flying? How do I describe it? It just happens. It’s natural. Kivsin thought. “Well, uh, what do we have to work with? Could I see your wings?”

They whooshed wide open and she displayed them proudly, at least until they burst into flames to match the rest of her. Any interest she had in her form went up in smoke. These warp flames proved not actually hot. Chaos would say ‘Physics? What’s that?’ He had to start showing her the mechanics somewhere and cautiously rolled her wing in a circle.

“You must feel the pattern of up, forward, and diagonally down and back. Can you feel it?”

Twilight giggled the whole time. “Oh I feel something.” She repeated the motions. “Alright, up, forward, and back.” She accidentally slapped Kivsin back, helped him up and found his skin like a wrongly worn jacket. The impact pushed his loose fitting hide up, the mouth hole over his eyes, and the red, sinew of his ears stuck out the eye holes.

“Do not sully your hooves on the likes of me.” He muffled through his coat. Agonizingly packing his ears back and drawing his face down, he corrected his pelt like a hoodie. There was still some red under his eyes and his mouth was slightly askew.

“Sorry.” Twilight apologized.

“It is not your fault, master. I-I should not have been in your path.”

“I’ll just get back to practice.”

“Of course.”

The sun’s rays peered through the clouds as the regal sisters climbed the long stairs to the palace. The talks with the elves disintegrated into arguing over the most trivial of military concepts. Such was normal of his generals as Franz explained. Luna was inexplicably wrought with sleepiness. Overall, nothing gained but dialogue opened between the races of men, elves, and ponies.

"Thank you for accepting me as a guest your majesties." Thrakian said. His silver armor faintly reflected the sky and environment. A Hoeth swordmaster, was sent from the elven district of the city to make sure he doesn't 'decay' culturally from interacting with ponies, these lesser creatures.

"We are honored to have such an esteemed warrior like you." Celestia canted. "Your clothes speak volumes of your experience with dragons. Tell me, what are they like in Ulthuan?"

The precisely forged silver insignias on his suit represented 'sun dragon', the youngest classification. Dragon riders had to be especially careful with the hot temper of their creatures, else they be burned in the saddle.

"I can assure you they are far more powerful than the kind you described in Equestria. Rare as Morrslieb turning red, they're large enough to shatter fortress gates. They have claws that can slice through stone…” He flexed his large, sharp hand. “and they can breathe so much more than just fire. Ice, lightning, acid, poison gas. They are much thinner though, like stick bugs with big mouths."

"Are you raising a young dragon at home?" Celestia asked.

He looked to the sky wishfully, "No your majesty.” He wrung his hands. “Are the Elements of Harmony among your retinue?"

“How do you know about the Elements of Harmony?” Luna yawned. She barely had the strength to raise her head.

He got a bit tense. Even the swordmaster gave him a questioning look. “Yes, how do you know?”

Thrakian paused on a step and requested with wavering firmness. “Your highness, permission to remove my helmet.”

The Swordmaster scowled and gently held a strange gold whistle, shaped like a fierce dragon. “You understand you are to wear it at all times when out of doors and around those of importance?”

Stupid rules. He ignored him. “It was your previous request earlier, your highness. I would be more than happy to oblige. It would certainly answer your question.”

Curiosity be damned, the elf raised the whistle to his lips and threatened to blow it.

“Oh just take it off!” the brain-dead Luna said.

“While he is here, our will is supreme.” Celestia ruled. “Off with it.” The elf put away the whistle. “What was that whistle supposed to do?”

“Discipline.”

Thrakian proceeded to unhook the base of his helmet. “Every day, all day, I have to wear this and it is suffocating.”

Celestia was surprised to see overlapping, purple scales covering his skin and green scale bands across the front of his neck and large jaw. Flaps of green hide flexed up from the center of his neck in an animalistic display as his helmet was lifted off and crested atop the center of his head. Green almond shaped eyes looked on Celestia as a gentleman with a small child, waiting behind them to burst forth if the elf were gone.

“Your holiness, do you recognize me?”

The sun goddess’ mind was clogged but managed, “Y-yes. Spike. My goodness, how old are you now?”

“Nineteen, but you haven’t aged a day.” He responded cheerfully.

“You were three, last I saw you. How are you…”

“Thrakian, you know them?” the confused swordmaster said.

Spike’s smile fell slightly. “I always hated that name. What’s so wrong with Spike?”

Luna impatiently nudged her sister. “Could we please take this inside?”

“You might collapse any moment.” Spike joked.

Forty more steps and nearly as many questions asked. A team of unicorns heaved the great passage open and Luna was first in, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“We are honestly happy to meet you, Spike, but we must rest.” she said and trotted off.

He bowed his head in understanding. He, Celestia, and his aide took down the other way.

Luna slumped through the passages, almost sleepwalking from this debilitating exhaustion. Each turn mocked her with the absence of the bedchamber doors and forced her to lug her suit about. At last, salvation! The ornate doors beckoned and she was enchanted as the guards opened them. The familiar room was like a wonderland but the open windows let cursed light flood in. She snapped the blinds shut and rang for the appropriate group to perform the rites of her retirement. Always a ritual for everything.

In a few eternal minutes, they entered. The most piously decorated of them slowly swung a smoking censer and levitated a holy text. Luna took her place in the center of the room and held her forelegs out to her sides. The attendants adeptly disrobed her, choreographed to the priest’s reading of some passages from the text. Luna didn’t bother to listen, just wish the process would go faster. They rested each component of her armor on a mannequin and finished with her crown.

“Amen.” The priest concluded and quietly shut the book. They all bowed subserviently and departed in good order.

At last.

She hastily climbed into bed, yanked the sheets over her head and was out like a light.

The shadows on the darkened room quaked, bent and rippled independent of their objects, and stretched their two dimensional fingers toward the sleeping princess. She tossed and turned under the sheets as she was consumed in the essence of darkness. The shadows broke from their source items and completely filled her. She sat up and Nightmare Moon threw off the covers.

“Oh how long has it been?”

She rolled her neck and it crackled like a glockenspiel. The mirror showed her a mare that seemed strange. She hardly recognized herself without the usual blue armor ensemble and got a feel for how dull and monotone her features were. She was as back as the corner of Luna’s mind she was entombed in. That void where the infinite silence was deafening. She looked to the mannequin.

“Fortify me.” Her horn glowed its ominous dark blue and, one piece at a time, the suit encased her. Her mind raced with all she could do but knew as well as Celestia the hell that was bursting out from the north. She was in no position to revolt against the solar goddess and knew not of the incident on Nightmare Night. Her energy warped the armor, twisting it into something truly nightmarish. The tiny, marble moons and crescents formed into green emerald eyes and her edges became tapering and sharp. She could sense something was amiss.

The window blinds parted at her motion and she looked out over the city. “Somepony didn’t leave sacrifices.” she said, licking her lips. She dissolved into a dark mist and flowed through the tiny cracks in the window to the outside, sticking to the shadows.

As nimble as the wind, she passed low to the ground, between blades of grass even, and into the wealthy sprawls around the palace. Her sight identified who did and didn't leave offerings on the holiday dedicated to her. A small procession of cultists, lauding in their grim monotone, were clean as they radiated nothing in her eyes. In one of the spacious complexes, she saw through the walls, the black silhouette of a mare. The first to be punished. She rose against the wall and in through the window. Nothing but contempt, she felt for the blasphemous pony. Or was it hunger for the taste of the unfaithful?

"I'll wait for you in the carriage dear." A stallion at the door of the bedroom said. He fixed the last creases in his classy clothing, straightened his collar, and stood at the door.

"Yes, yes. I'll be there soon." the target answered. She stood before a dresser, covered in countless makeups, powders, and pads. She blew a kiss to the stallion and he snatched the invisible gem from the air. He shut the door and she returned to her preparations.

Nightmare Moon reformed and, silent as a shadow, she approached from behind, intending to toy a little with her victim. She let herself be seen in the mirror, her wings open, teeth bristling, and narrow, hungry eyes glaring into her being. The powdered pony dropped her makeup pad and as she snapped her head around, Nightmare Moon quickly poofed into her vaporous form again, so thin, she was unseen. The orange pony timidly scanned around, her breath heavied from the surprise. She checked the mirror again and only her reflection looked back.

"I'll leave double next year." she said to herself. "That should make up for it."

There won't be a next year for you.

Nightmare Moon lingered closer and slowly re-condensed, just enough to be seen again and expand when the mare jerked around once more. She was definitely afraid now, fearing divine punishment. Before a religious icon at the bedside, she bowed and prayed for forgiveness.

Let this be my que.

The moon deity fully materialized silently behind her. "You unfaithful, miserable wretch." she murmured with scorn. The mare's heart skipped a beat, or two. She backed against the nightstand as Nightmare Moon stood over her. "You ask for forgiveness? There can be no forgiveness."

The horrified pony sputtered, "Please, your holiness! I have been so dedicated my whole life! I pray every morning and night, go to the abbey every sunday and monday. My faith was stained by but a single night. I offer thee a million times a million apologies. Have mercy upon me!" Tears started to pool in her eyes.

"Mercy." Nightmare Moon smirked. She raised the mare with her magic and forced her legs to curl against her body. She speared her penitent eyes with her gaze. "No mercy for heretics."

The skin of her cheeks parted, exposing the red muscles underneath. Her jaw stretched down and she floated the pony to it. She fruitlessly screamed and struggled against the blue magic that enveloped her and her face pressed against the hot, humid back of Nightmare Moon's throat. The esophagus widened and she looked down into her moist, pulsating doom. Sharp teeth scraped and cut her body as she was moved into the vertical tunnel. A playful tongue stroked along her underside as Nightmare Moon enjoyed the taste of her.

Nightmare Moon raised her head to align the passages and let gravity sink her victim a little further. She released her magic hold and let them flail their hind legs about while she swallowed, pulling them deeper into her bowels. Their round flanks required extra effort to get down and their body formed a massive, writhing girth in her throat. Their screaming was muffled by the wet insides. A few crushing gulps later, their hind hoofs slipped into her throat. Her snack squeezed through her, round the bend between her neck and torso and she loved it as they were stuffed into the pit of her stomach, clothes and all. Nightmare moon felt her squirm and licked the bits of torn skin and blood on her teeth. As her esophagus settled, it pushed up a girdle that fell wetly out her mouth.

"Ah, the taste of flesh. Just as tender and succulent as I remember." she canted. She brought her head around and raised the side of her armor. Her skin was stretched with the blasphemer inside. Her stomach rolled and jerked, the digestive juices burned in the mare's bleeding cuts. "I'm going to keep giving you air, so you're awake to feel me burn you." she said sinisterly. Under the black fur, they screamed, beat the soft walls and jostled. "Try all you like, little orderve. It amuses me."

She vaporized and streamed back out the room.

So sister, what say I join you?

Celestia placed the quill back into its holster and flashed her letter to its destination. The Pegasus holding up the writing block departed.

“Shining Armor should receive that soon. Tell me, how did you find him?” Celestia asked. Her sword and shield clinked against her legs as she walked to the practice room.

“I would not know that your majesty.” The swordmaster said. “I have been on missions for the Tower of Hoeth longer than ponies have been in Ulthuan.

“I can answer, Princess.” Spike took a deep breath to ease the pain of remembering.

He slept soundly in his little basket and having done his daily duties and some of Twilight's as she was still out, rest was well deserved. The smell of smoke, not his, but something more wooden, startled him awake. The air was thick with the stench of burning wood but the fire was not in the tree, yet.

"Twilight! Twilight!" He scrambled out of bed and shook the unconscious librarian. She didn’t move.

A fire near a large tree house full of dry paper books and scrolls brought him to instinctively try to drag Twilight with his infantile strength out. Soul wrenching howling and tortured screaming outside filled him with rampant fear and he hastily got Twilight down the stairs, across the lower floor and he put her down to open the door. He immediately regretted it as the denizens of ponyville were running about like chickens with their heads cut off from nightmarish monsters and steel giants.

These horrors brutishly swiped up the ponies by twos and threes, caging and binding them. Every home was ablaze and ash and cinders rained from the raging heavens. The dirt roads quickly became mud of blood as the creatures slaughtered many mercilessly. One chaos warrior, one of these steel giants, was carrying Spike's beloved Rarity, screeching like a banshee for her freedom. His young facilities couldn't process all that was happening and he slammed the door shut. His back to it, he scanned around at Twilight, then the upstairs window. Just as he was going to act, a large crash and splinters of wood fell on his ears and head. He looked up and a large fist had rammed through the door, feeling around for him.

He grabbed Twilight and dragged her back up the stairs as the door was smashed apart. A chaos warrior stormed in and stomped up after them, pulling Twilight away and grabbing Spike by the face. He analyzed him for a few seconds through dark eye holes and toted him under his arm, kicking and screaming. Back outside, the leader of the hundred man warband, a sorcerer, was going over a map with his second in command.

"Follow the railway tracks. Burn everything between Manehattan, Applooza, and the arctic regions. There is a great darkness near the Crystal Empire, shattered and scattered. Bring it to me. Slay all who fight, capture the rest."

The triangular path between those places covered at least half of Equestria.

As Spike was carried from the tree-house, a Flamer, a twisted, viney creature of many mouths and limbs, belched plumes of fire onto the tree-house. Further in the distance, the white and blue city of Cloudsdale was slowly swallowed by a massive dark fog and disappeared from the night sky. Wrestling for freedom, he screamed and beat the armor of his captor and was thrown into an iron cage. His face bashed against the bars and the rest of his body tingled for little reason. He looked at his claw and his fingers started growing, twisting and bending with no rhyme or reason, as shapeless as the fiery wind that devoured Ponyville.

The caravan carried everyone out of town and over the hills on a forced march. Spike's condition quickly worsened and he cried as his body became more distorted and contorted. His fingers grew long and rending, his tail, bulbous and coiled. His teeth stabbed through the gums of the opposite row and his mouth was constantly bleeding.

In the camp, he was kept isolated as he was degrading into a chaos spawn. A mindless monster so warped by chaos, they are nothing but masses of raging flesh and vague limbs and mouths that will lash out and kill anything that moves. The night dragged on. He dreaded what was happening to him and feared everything in sight. A stealthy elven agent, a shadow warrior, quietly slithered into the room his cage was in.

"Ssh." He whispered silently and took him in the cage.

Spike tried his best to stay quiet but his changing nature would not allow him. He moaned and howled almost constantly until the elf was being pursued by chaos marauders. With super-athletic speed, the elf ran. Forget stealth, he was found. A portal, hidden in a small recess of the central tent of the camp was his way out and he dove through. So mocking was the Warp that they were inadvertently taken back in time, some years before the coming of ponies to the world.

In Ulthuan, more specifically the province of Caledor where dragons are considered sacred creatures, the elves performed daily rituals and spells on him to cleanse him of the taint of Chaos. He'd been raised among other young dragons but they were not necessarily sentient. They could not speak, hold a conversation, or reason like dragons in Equestria. As he grew up, his sentience made him very special among his more primal brethren. Diets of raw meat were standard and the elves pounded into his head, 'jewels are for magic and decoration, not eating'.

At thirteen years old, his dragon lord sent him to the woods alone, where the daemons of Chaos lurk. For a whole month he was so live there, feeding on woodland creatures, and when daemons bounded toward him, he was consumed by the tumultuous trauma of the night chaos came. He unleashed all his hatred, pain, and sadness on them. Even after their bodies disintegrated back to the warp, he still clawed at the ground, still seeing them there until he'd dug a fairly deep hole that he'd then spend the night in.

After the trial, and righting some injuries cross his body, the ponies of the Crystal Empire came, escaping chaos. Horribly depopulated and Princess Cadence on the verge of death, they became second-class citizens. He witnessed Cadence receive a prosthetic jaw as her severed one no longer fit her head. Her speech was still understandable but had a powerful lisp.

She at one point plummeted into a bout of insanity at the news that King Sombra was in Naggaroth, resurrected by chaos magic. Her people would never be safe. He was gifted to Malekith, the Witch King by Archaon, sent on a wooden raft across the sea and wound up in Naggaroth. Sombra once disobeyed Malekith who treated him like a pet, leading an assault on Ulthuan and failing miserably to the power of the Crystal Heart. His punishment on returning to the Druchii capital, Naggarond is unknown.

Years after, the shrine of Asuryan signaled the new Storm of Chaos had begun. Spike, Cadence, and the High Elven host set off to the Old World.

“You and she have been through so much.” Celestia said sincerely.

Spike treaded glumly with the hateful knowledge that Twilight or the others weren’t in the city. “We can’t dwell on the past too much. The fate of the world is out most urgent concern now.” He tried to perk himself up. “How often do you train?”

“Every afternoon I can with the most skilled warriors in Reikland.”

“Humans move in slow motion compared to elves.” Spike snickered. The swordmaster put on a superior grin as well.

Spike held the entrance to the combat practice room. A high roof provided room for flying combatants. Though he didn’t have wings, he was still maneuverable. He took off his gloves and ran his large claw along the wall.

“Could I get a feel for the room, princess?”

“Absolutely.”

The small child burst forth. He sank his claw into the stone and hoisted himself up, gripping and swinging on fixtures and structural supports, as agile as a squirrel and blindingly fast. Celestia couldn’t remember the last time she saw such childish joy. He let himself fall and slammed to the ground, scattering the hay cover with the force.

“Right. Let’s go.” He put his helmet back on and unsheathed a greatsword. Elves had to use two hands to wield them but his size allowed him to swing it with one. His shield was tall and wide, studded with red rubies and embossed with the silver icon of a blazing phoenix.

Celestia drew her own sword, channeling her magic threw it to make it roar with solar flames. Her shield was a proud sun. Its sharp points would easily pierce any armor.

“Mares first.” Spike said, bobbing back and forth.

“My, my. Such a gentledragon.” Nightmare Moon sounded from the entrance.

“Luna.” Celestia said perplexed. “I thought you were resting.”

Nightmare Moon forced herself to smile but in her mind, was spitting venom. “In this form I have some time longer before exhaustion strikes again and I must behold what prowess Spike has.” If there weren't a seven and a half food dragon in the room, her words would have been less friendly.

Spike's helmet suddenly jerked up and he unbuttoned the metal folds at the back. His frills stood on end, responding to the evil presence in the room, and he held back the urge to bestially growl at her.

“I’m sorry princess." he grunted. "You radiate a dark energy.” He caught a peculiar scent. “Is… there blood in here? Princess, are you hurt?”

Nightmare Moon sucked in her gut and buried her tenseness. “Not in the slightest, worrisome dragon.” She lept into the air and seated herself in a lookout booth. “Come now! We are all well. I implore thee, proceed.”

Spike gave her one more glance before returning to Celestia. “When you’re ready.”

Nightmare Moon felt uncomfortable in her seat, on her stuffed stomach, well obscured by her suit. She felt her prisoner twitch and breathe faintly in their churning, gooey cell.

“Still not perished I see." She shifted on her gut, feeling they weren't anywhere near melted. "Time may not be on my side. Digest now.” Her horn lit dimly and her stomach quickly kicked into overdrive, filling with acid. It pounded and pummeled the victim, audibly squelching and gurgling as it crushed and dissolved them into a soft, chunky fluid mush. Her stomach shrank as it flushed the slush into her intestines. She let out a small, dainty belch. “Pardon me.” she chortled. There was a crash of metal and she looked up to see Celestia on her side with Spike’s engraved sword lightly touching her neck. He helped her up and Nightmare Moon clapped at her defeat. “You will fell him next bout sister!”

"Woe O world! The age of mortals is coming to an end! Time passes into oblivion and the stars lapse in the sky!" The pessimistic, raspy preacher lauded in the streets outside the castle walls.

"Somepony shut him up." Shining Armor ordered, his last nerve crushed.

A handgunner aimed through one of the view ports in the wall and his weapon flashed. There was a short clamor of screaming and a minute later, the tune of the town returned to normal. Shining Armor returned to his brooding and staring at his mutated banner of command. The star speckled shield of the tapestry became warped and evil since his last battle. The central star glared an organic eye at him. The points had become bloody arrow heads and instead of six, there were eight. This image burrowed itself deep within him. This sign meant something, but what?

The chamber door rattled and creaked open and an messenger entered nervously. "My lord.”

“Go ahead.”

“Th-the generals are concerned as to your recent h-h-h-habits.”

Shining Armor’s ears twitched, frightening the messenger. “Go on.”

“They believe you are too d-d-distracted by this banner.”

A pair of furious sapphire eyes that haven’t known sleep for three days set his soul on fire. “Go on…”

“The generals believe, for your health and purity of soul, the tainted banner should be... burned.”

With his gaze no longer fixed on the banner, Shining Armor finally felt the weight of his deprivation. It wasn’t the worst exhaustiveness he’d felt but still mired his coordination.

“Very well. Take it to the temple.” He yawned. “Dispose of it in the sacred fire.” He rubbed his burning eyes. “Did the dwarf concede?”

“N-n-no my lord. His human associate has but won’t go without him.”

“Double the offer. I don’t care what it takes. If they’re half what their books say they’ve accomplished, they’re my only option. What was the man’s name? Felix something?”

“Felix Jaeger sir. Your presence is also requested at the top of the citadel. The White City is within sight and will be here for resupplying for two days.”

Burned out or not, Shining Armor was excited to see it. “Then let us be on our way.” Military attendants rolled up the standard and carried it out with the sisterless field-marshal.

He was in his ceremonial wear, a wide, gold and midnight blue hat, an armored vest embossed with a lunar eclipse, and a red and deep blue cape, the colors of Altdorf. His sleeves were specially colored to signify he was the highest commander of imperial forces short of the Princesses and Emperor. He shared the same authority with Reikmarshall Kurt. Ascending the stairs, Shining Armor regretfully reminisced his recent decision, attempting to attack the ork WAAAGH!!! and getting twenty thousand men and ponies killed. The roar of artillery and screams of those injured men haunted him.

As a soldier opened the door to the roof, Shining Armor and all who were with him were blinded by a flood of white light into the fire lit stairwell. He paused at the top of the stairs, covering his eyes, and when they adjusted, he beheld the unblinking eye of day, burning his retinas as he stared directly into it. Many haven’t seen the sun in years. His eyes were pulled away when an officer called his small group of Reiksguard stallions to attention. He took a look around the fortified roof and the grassy plains beyond the wall and the city of Bechafen behind him. His sun starved skin tingled as the warmth of heavenly light blessed the earth.

The sky was almost completely clear; a placid sea of noble blue. Tens of thousands of city residents were gathered around the citadel, radiating a pall of prayer and the stink of tight packed plebs and their burning incense would be smelled for miles around. In the distance, over the plains, was a titanic, thick column of clouds, slowly floating in Bechafen’s direction. Mists of many colors, rainbows, poured from its walls and high places. They shimmered immaculately in the sunlight. Shining Armor stepped up to one of the elevated platforms on the roof and awaited the coming of Cloudsdale.

Pegasi kept the skies clear of clouds and the floating, battle damaged metropolis began to pass by. Its battered walls were lined with pegasi who swooped down and began tying ropes down to different parts of the castle and walls. Miles of rope, hundreds of hooks and knots were fastened. The airy city slowed its movement as the ropes strained and squeaked, and soon halted. Its great gate was right before the platform Shining Armor stood upon.

The Reiksguard officer stepped forward with a banner bearer. The flag was raised straight up and slowly angled toward the city. Long trumpets blared a short set of tones, loud and grandly.

“Will the Governor-General of Cloudsdale come forth and welcome, most pious servant of the celestial gods, Reikmarshall Shining Armor!” the officer shouted.

The denizens below silenced, awaiting a response. The great poufy gate jerked forward slightly and slowly lowered to the platform and a trio of regal pegasi proceeded down. One bore the banner of Cloudsdale, a twin headed alicorn, looking in opposite directions over its large wings. Another was shaven bald around his head with an iron halo down around his eyebrows. The banner bearer pointed the pole straight up and touched the tip of the Ostermark flag.

“Hail and well met Reikmarshall.” The third, yellow and orange mare greeted.

“And to you.” Shining Armor responded. He looked up the mountainous city. Behind his professional façade, he was beyond words. “Your city is beautiful.” he said earnestly.

“It radiates its purity. I would be honored if you would view our facilities and attend the exodus of the souls of our fallen.”

“I would like to witness the processes. Thank you.”

A priest carried a shallow bowl of water before Shining Armor, dipped his hoof in it and dabbed the reikmarshall’s forehead.

“Oh immortal majesties, have mercy upon us, though weak and miserable that we are. Oh masters of heaven, protect your flock from the taint. Oh keepers of the light and night, guide or uncertain path with your wisdom. We are your subjects and we are servants to thee. We stand free from blindness of heart. Free from hypocrisies, feign glories, and deceits but captive to hatred, malice, and anger, to the filth, the beast, the heretic. By thy grace and will, by thy sacrifice and glory, by thy ascension as the gods of ponykind, keep and strengthen us, we who fight for thee.”

“Amen.” All said.

“The clouds are safe, reikmarshall. The Rig makes it so.” The governor assured him.

Shining Armor nervously placed his hoof onto the white surface and put pressure on it. It felt strange but, as the pegasus said, it held up his weight. The flags separated as he stepped up and the Reiksguard stallions followed them up the gate.

“Might I know the name of my host?” Shining Armor asked.

“Spitfire." She shook his hoof. "I don't think I caught your name. The officer didn't yell loud enough.” she joked.

“Spitfire…” he wondered. “One of the original Wonderbolts! This is an honor indeed.”

“Yeah. Being the last of the first generation alive has its perks.” She sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

A carriage awaited them both just inside the walls. Shining Armor ignored the lamenting sounds around them and entered.

“Mind if we break the formal act here?” Spitfire asked

“I suppose.”

“Thanks. I would have preferred to fly but you being earthbound and all, heh.”

“Not that much of a disadvantage when you have magic.” Shining Armor jabbed back.

Through tinted windows, he looked out. The inside of the walls was absolutely shanty, poor pegasi desperately tried to recover their destroyed homes and one flew around, calling out, “Muffin!? Muffin!?” She soon found her little lavender daughter, crying with one leg bent at odd angles.

One pushing a wheelbarrow full of bodies rolled down the street. “Bring out yer dead! Bring our yer dead!” Another four dismembered pegasi were loaded up. It wasn’t Shining Armor’s job to care for them.

“What was the attack like?” he asked.

Spitfire sniffed. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. Here, I got this for the ride.” She opened a compartment with a couple of glasses and a bottle of deep red wine. “Like extra hooves.” she boasted as she held the glasses in her wings and poured with her hooves.

“No hooves.” Shining Armor adeptly levitated the cup away and tipped it over her head. The drink spilled out and he caught it just before her face and streamed it back into the cup. He took a short sip, bitter and teeming with more alcohol than it should.

“Yeah, not known for its taste.” She gulped down her glass in one go, poured another, and corked the bottle. She was already showing signs of intoxication. “You know, a lot of ponies tell me I can’t hold my drink. I don’t believe them.”

She almost straightaway fell drunk. Most of their talk was just Spitfire rambling about how she had to take a leadership role in Cloudsdale and keep everyone together as the city emerged from the Warp, over Nuln. The Imperials didn’t take kindly to this but eventually, the Princesses got their conference with the Emperor and the massive batteries of artillery pointed at Cloudsdale were lifted. The city was tethered in place in the sky and they learned from the gunnery college in Nuln. In time, Cloudsdale became specialized with black powder weaponry; guns, cannons, rockets and everything in between. They were set adrift, carried by the warp guided winds and became a beacon of faith and a holy city for ponies everywhere.

She fell apart as she described the attack over Mordheim. A terrible daemon of Tzeentch, the Changeling, had been terrorizing Cloudsdale for years, sabotaging their works and playing lethal practical jokes on the unwary. It was responsible for the opening of a warp portal that sucked in Soarin and he was never seen again. The daemon was apparently captured in the attack and turned out to be Rainbow Dash when she was locked away in The Rig. The Rig took her daemonic energy, along with other daemons, to make the clouds of the city safe for non-pegasi to walk on. After Soarin, Rainbow Dash was the last important pony Spitfire knew who she could look to. She wore a rainbow ascot for luck every waking minute and was completely destroyed after finding out she was her worst enemy.

Spitfire picked up the bottle to pour her third glass while Shining Armor was only half done with his first. He forced her to put it down.

“This isn’t the way to solve your problems. I understand what you’re going through.”

“What do you know?” she grumbled. “What do you know about losing everypony you ever held near and dear?”

He leaned back and donned his serious face that quickly silenced her. “I lost my wife and little sister. I don’t know if they’re alive or dead or worse.”

A golden flash in the carriage disoriented them both for a moment and Shining Armor picked up the letter, stamped with the Celestia’s seal. Before he could read it, the carriage seemed to sink into the clouds a few inches but held after. The sound of alarm bells penetrated the space, sounding at every pitch a pony could hear.

“What is that?” Shining Armor said.

They climbed out of the carriage and one of the guards of The Rig hovered over them. He wore lightning bolts all over his gleaming armor and was obviously distraught.

“Governor, the Changeling has escaped!”

Spitfire looked ready to explode. She slammed her hoofs on the ground and let out a scream, so enraged, it would shatter the Immaterium.

Half a moldy potato and a cup of spit from the security guards every other day, not an ideal diet to be on for three weeks and now trying to run for her life. A hooded creature, no legs, three arms on one side and carrying a bloody, scroll wrapped scythe in the other, pulled Rainbow Dash along. The contact of these two shapeshifters caused them to revert to their original forms but neither could take the time to look at themselves. It used the sickle well, reaping a harvest of souls as he cut through the guards and brought his precious cargo to a window overlooking the city.

“Bird!” it screeched and jumped, pulling Rainbow Dash along with him.

She’d become nearly deaf from listening to the daemons in The Rig screaming and howling and couldn’t understand what the figure said. It let go of her hoof and shifted into a mutated raven. She emulated him, wracked with pain as her body ripped itself apart to become a similar, creature. Bullets whizzed by from the inaccurate gunners and they dove to the lower levels. Though it wasn’t extremely long in the Rig, Rainbow Dash was rapt with the same happiness she felt the first time she took flight as a filly, the wind in her face, the weightlessness. She strained to keep up with the guide and her malnourished body hampered her further. She marveled at the literally bird’s eye view of Cloudsdale and Bechafen below. They both settled in a space between two buildings and were well concealed in the darkness. Rainbow Dash nearly crashed with her dulled dexterity and they huddled silent as soldiers swooped by over the alley. They were safe for the moment.

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” the daemon squawked and assumed the form of a noblecolt, keeping his scythe out. “Fix yourself up. You must return to where you belong.” He tapped her with his scythe, forcing her back to normal.

Outside of The Rig, the ruinous powers wreaked havoc on her mind again and Rainbow Dash’s forgetfulness streak came back with a terrible vengeance.

“Who are you? Who… am I?” she murmured weakly, trying to catch her breath.

“Very good question!” he said maliciously. “But my name is not what is urgent here. My lord Soarin, you took a nasty spill through the Warp.”

“Warp? Soarin?” Rainbow Dash garbled.

“Your amnesia is terrible! That daemonette really hit you in the head hard.” he lied further.

The Changeling passed the flat side of his scythe over Rainbow Dash and formed her in the image of Soarin, a light blue coat, dark blue mane, and a winged star on her, or his, flanks. The daemon studied the scrawny, woozy work before him.

“Not quite there yet.”

He smashed Rainbow Dash across the face with the dull side of his staff, instantly fracturing her skull. He then quickly cut and tore her body, opening gaping wounds, breaking bones and spreading her blood.

“Let us put some of this here, this gets ripped. Just enough exposed skull and let that hang off by a thread.”

He wound up the flat end of his scythe like a golf club. “And one broken rib! *crack* Two! *crack* Three!” So intricate was the masterpiece he crafted and soon, he had a mutilated wreck before him. This fake Soarin drooled blood.

“Convincing!” he congratulated himself and compacted his sickle into a necklace. He knelt down and lifted Rainbow Dash’s sliced ear. “There’s only room for one shape shifter in this town and I’ll enjoy the extra challenge.” He punted her head with the small sickle before returning it to his pocket. “What did I just say?” She just looked at him with inflamed, confused eyes. She didn’t know the colt standing over her. “Good. Now let’s see you back to your girlfriend.” He picked up the confused and destroyed Soarin and helped him out of the alley. “Help! Help! This colt is horribly injured!” the disguised daemon wailed.

A soldier swooped down and inspected the victim. His jaw hit the pavement. “Praise the sisters, he found his way back! What happened?”

“I d- I don’t know!” the changeling acted. “I found him like this and a black cloud was vanishing around him. He can’t remember anything.”

“Apothecary! Somepony find a Luna damned medicine maker!” the soldier shouted.

Jurisdiction was soon handed over to the group of troops that came to aid their ruined lieutenant, beaten to an inch of his life. The Changeling daemon trotted away solemnly, and then happily the further from the medical mash pit he got. The gears of his plan were in motion.

“Just as planned.” He whistled. “Just as planned.”

Rainbow Dash awoke, feeling warm and wet all over. A pool of water surrounded her and her cut forehead stung as a nurse wiped a disinfectant cloth over it. A dozen medical ponies surrounded her.

“Spitfire, he’s awake.” Shining Armor said.

Soarin painfully turned his head at the yellow pegasus that knelt by him, her face full of happiness and tears.

“Soarin, do you recognize me? She asked. He shook his head. “I’m Spitfire.” She choked. “You and I were together. We’re going to help you get back into things, okay? Help you remember.”

He weakly nodded and started to cough blood into the water.

Shining Armor whispered to Spitfire, “I have to leave immediately. I’m needed at Altdorf. I’m happy for you two, and good luck.”

“Thank you.” she said.

Rarity passed the needle through the loop, one last time. Her bony arm, devoid of flesh, muscle, and blood, creaked and bent into a pair of scissors and clipped the thread. These limbs were nothing but endlessly shifting, thick tree branches of white marrow. She tugged on the thread and tightened up where it connected to a pair of pants. Elegantly sewn with all her hatred and thankfulness toward Lyra, it would nicely cover up her gnarled legs.

She checked herself one more time. She had times when she'd ask herself, 'Is this what I've become? This hideousness.' She was riddled with cold, barren craters where large eyeballs used to be. Three horns occupied her forehead and temples, curving upward and were always aglow to relieve a constant buildup of magic. Her shoulders brimmed with bony spines. Her leathery skin successfully grew back her white fur that covered up her withered hide and she shifted her fingers into a plethora of shapes for amusement. Animals, faces, weapons. One large talon, shaped like a scythe at her side twitched and curled without command, seeming to do whatever it so pleased. The Skaven's blade pierced deep and she thanked Tzeentch she hadn't perished and the claw grew from the wound in time.

She had her fingers come together to form something of a handheld mirror and funneled her energy into it, crackling and sparking with lightning.

"Show me Applejack." she muttered to it. The beams came together and formed a hazy, glassy surface.

The dead mare was ridden down the street by Cultist-Chan who held a slab of raw meat on a stick before her face. The toothy mouthed girl had come by a few times, a friend of Lyra's. The poor dear had to wait over 38,000 years before she would be used for whatever the Dark Gods were saving her for. In her zombified state, Applejack mindlessly followed the bait and would come to again soon and wonder how she got where she was. Then skulk off to her hole and pretend to be well.

It was clear she'd gone bonkers as she had a set of dead ponies that she painted one red with blood, another yellow with puss, and the last a putrid green and stretched its skin to make it look old. She filled them with maggots and flies under her control and conducted them like puppets to mimic her family. The Plague Lord does love family. She lived with a fake little sister, big brother, and grandma and convinced herself they were real, at least until she would suddenly break down, tear the meat puppets apart and go to see the Doctor to regain some sanity.

"Not faring so well are we?" Rarity snickered.

She separated her fingers and thought about going to find her friends. She'd contemplated leaving the domicile as she was no longer at the mercy of the living inhaler that used to couple to her face but the armour she was forging didn’t quite feel done yet. The price of chaos warrior armour was steep and she'd like to keep her soul, so she settled for making her own. She poured the insanity of her mad visions into it. Every crease, horn, lightning heated weld, and thorn on it was part of some nightmare or hallucination she gave form. Her horns would display beautifully through the ghoulish helmet. Monstrous, beaked faces with glass eyes glared out from the chestplate and shoulders. Bronze was shaped as smoke and in thin stripes across its dark blue bulk. Any hopes Lyra had of trying it on were dashed as Rarity made it to be big enough for herself. She stood one and a half feet taller, without the armor.

She walked around the home, looking for something to do. Lyra had many trinkets, books, and this pet starfish she called BonBon, after her lost friend. The spiny creature disgusted her but it was the only company she had when Lyra went out and ashamedly talked to it once in a while.

“Come on out you vile little beast.” Rarity chimed to the starfish in its cage. She held out her palm and opened the hatch. The creature scampered into her hand and she elongated her fingers into the shape of a tree. She watched it swing and play and purr in its little feral language.

Her entertainment was interrupted by the impact of another painful vision. They were all vague. A giant metal beast was at the door, smashing at it and looking for her. At that moment, the ground did seem to vibrate. The wall fixtures shook slightly and it stopped on the other side of the wall. Rarity got as far from the door as possible and charged her hands with lightning, forcing the starfish to abandon its jungle gym.

Her heart raced as she waited with her hand to the door. The door rattled and jostled a little and in fearful stress, Rarity fired.

“Woah!” Lyra gasped as the shot missed and scorched the wall. “Swiss, what the frick!?”

Rarity’s cratered exterior merited the nickname. “T-terribly sorry dear. I thought you were something else.” She sat in her chair in relief.

“Well find something to put on, we’re going out. But first.” She picked up a hammer and chisel from a disorganized pile of things.

Rarity instinctively covered her flanks where the gems of her cutiemarks had turned green and actually materialized warpstone on them once in a while. There was at least 20 bits worth on her rump now.

“Oh, no” Rarity got up.

“Yes.” Lyra grinned.

“No!”

"Yeees." Lyra psyched her out.

Miss Cheerlie’s patience ran out. “Lyra, would you hurry up in there!”

“Just a… hold still! Minute!” The sound of snapping stone was accompanied by a painful yelp. “Done, you baby.” Rarity massaged her aching flanks as Lyra put her cruel mining tools away. “Awesome! You finished my pants?” She swiped it off the work desk and immediately tried it on, poking her tail through a hole just below the back of the waistline. They were striped blue and black with marks of Tzeentch on the knees. “Oh this is so cool, thanks!”

“Must I put on my suit now? It just doesn’t feel complete.” Rarity griped.

“It’s fine. Here.” Lyra shoved the helmet into her bony hands.

She tapped her hard fingers on it. “Oh, what the heck.” She slipped it over her head and went for the rest of the ensemble.

It felt natural. With Lyra providing the flame when she was crafting it, Rarity made it to conform to her shape on the inside. She specially made the side with her talon to support her so she didn’t need use her arms like a cane but it rendered her back a little stiff. The bones shooting from her shoulders fit into their sockets in the pauldrons and lit the glass eyes a brilliant bright blue. They channeled her excess magic into the eyes and it dissipated as a mystical smoke on the air. She was finally at ease, not having to constantly monitor her own levels and worry about a backfire. She didn't bother with arm braces or greaves as she could use her whole arms for defense, forming them into clubs or tasers. From the mouths of the shoulder pads though, flowed long cloth sleeves that ran to her wrists.

"What do you think? Inspiring or does it need..." She shuddered at the thought of the bloody business of collecting, "...skulls?" Turn once, then once more on sharply pointed shoes, Lyra got a good look and clapped snootily.

“What do I have to say to get us out of here faster?”

“I am waiting on you now. So exited! I haven’t been outside in weeks!”

“How many times did I tell you, BonBon doesn’t like being outside.”

“Suffocating me is a strange way to say it.”

“Come on, go!” Lyra pushed Rarity to the door and magically opened it.

Rarity had to step sideways to get out and nearly ran back inside at the sight of what was to the side of the door.

The iron monster leaned fearfully against the building, twice Rarity’s height and a cloaked pony with a large necklace of skulls talked to it.

“Fluttershy, There’s somepony that wants to meet you.” Miss Cheerlie said softly.

Her mane of chains rattled as Fluttershy turned her head to Rarity. Her eyes widened and she turned back, afraid of the armor she wore and didn’t recognize her.

“Hello!” the chaos teacher greeted Rarity. “I’m Miss Cheerlie of Mordheim’s School for Heresy. Lyra told me a bit about you. She calls you Swiss but your actual name may be better.”

Rarity managed to pull her attention from Fluttershy to Cheerlie. “R-Rarity. This… Fluttershy?”

The giant looked back again, focusing on her familiar face. She picked Rarity up and squeezed her between her forelegs, swinging back and forth.

"Oh Rarity! I can't believe you’re okay!" She bawled, breathing burning hot air from the furnace of her insides. Rarity’s magic armor burned Fluttershy’s chest and she quickly let her go. She wobbled to balance with the weight of her armor.

“How did… giant.” Rarity stammered.

“Ah yes, unfortunately something like this happens to many ponies that become juggernauts.” Miss Cheerlie expounded. “Their bodies haven’t accepted this form yet so they have different kinds of allergic reactions to metal. In her case, absorbing it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Rarity scolded.

Miss Cheerlie laughed, “You expect chaos to make sense? I remember when Vanga’s mount became a juggernaut. He had him locked in magic chains for two years for exploding every time he touched metal. He nearly blew up the entire Keep of Skulls. Guess who provided the chains.” She jingled the barbed links that trailed from her body.

“Years?” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Yes. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Quite the piece of work, isn’t she?” Lyra slapped Rarity square on the back.

"Where did you find her?"

"Just this morning. Some crazy pony brought her to the school, she lost it, and I almost melted her. You know her?"

"She’s one of my best friends.” Rarity tapped Flutterhsy’s hoof. “I can’t imagine the pain you must be feeling.”

Fluttershy was shivering like a boiling kettle. “I’m glad this is my limit though. I can’t take anymore.”

“What is that horrid smell?” Rarity covered her offended nose.

“Kerosene.” Lyra said with a smile, tightening the reddened cast around her foot. She took a dab of it and felt its oily texture between her fingers. “That’s what I get for messing with pyromancy.” She burned it off and shoved her foot in Rarity’s face. “Here, get a better whiff!”

“Ew ew ew! Stop!”

Fluttershy futilely tried to talk them to peace in her tiny voice. “Um L-lyra… please don’t do that.”

The mint green mare couldn’t hear her over her own laughter.

Vanga looked on from the tree line at the forming circle of orkz around the great walls of Mordheim. It was a thin line; a few hundred maybe. The greenskins just began to set up their arcane, ramshackle siege engines. The Chaotic warband was on the far side of the city from the WAAAGH!!! as it slowly started to surround the place. Arrows and gunfire were exchanged in growing intensity between the walls and outside ground.

“Little piglets, ripe for the slaughter.” Vanga echoed.

“E’yep.” His mound said back.

Vanga raised his axe. “Knights on me!”

Khornate chaos warrior knights and riderless chaos warrior ponies formed an organized rank and file in the woods, right behind their leader. The steeds snorted smoke and angry warp flames. Khornates on foot and the Nurglites readied behind.

“Y’all keep close.” Pox told the three fillies that were to take cover under him like a bloated meat shield.

“Mhm.” They nervously murmured back.

Vanga rode Big Mac to one side of the cavalry line and trotted past them. Their armour was battered and worn from their campaigns away from the city but they all still boasted the Blood God’s fury. Big Mac had a visible layer of rust on him from the celebration to Nurgle a couple nights before.

“Charge for the gate. Slay all in your path!” Vanga roared. He raised his axe to the sky. “Blood for the Blood God!”

“SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!” the cavalry screamed back.

The warband lurched forward and burst from the trees.

“Maim kill burn. Maim kill burn.” Vanga slowly chanted. “Maim kill burn! Maim Kill burn!” The rest of Khorne’s legion joined in. “MAIM KILL BURN! MAIM KILL BURN!”

They got the orkz’ attention as arrows started to land far out in front of them. They never bother to really aim. As the band entered the steel shower, the shots panged and deflected off their armour and got harmlessly stuck in the nurglites’ bodies. The immaterial howls of the force reverberated to the heavens and the cutiemark crusaders kept huddled under their undead umbrella. The orkz’ battlecry broke through Chaos’ noise.

“WAAAAAAAGH!!!”

They turned a spear chukka around and it thunked a large bolt into the horde. It skewered a long line through the heretics.

The first ork came charging at the Brass Beast, beady red eyes and a dull choppa in hand. Big Mac lowered his head and jerked it to the side, impaling the ork on his horn and Vanga brutally cut it off for the next. He swiped down, cutting off an arm from the spear chukka and decapitating a goblin. Time and time again, they cut down the greenskins, forging a stream of blood behind them. The cavalry plowed through and steadily put the thin line to rout. A big ‘un, bigga 'n tuffa than normal orkz, rallied its fleeing subordinates, shouting at them to ‘git bak in da fight!’. He positioned itself right in Big Mac’s way and pounded his shield, patronizing him. It couldn’t wait to give a good crompi’n. The bait worked and the juggernaut steamed toward him.

“Git stuck in kay-oss boyz! WAAAAAAGH!”

With a crash, Big Mac’s horn penetrated straight through the ork’s shield but its size managed to slow him massively, ripping up soil as it was pushed back. Vanga used his mount’s sudden stop to lunge forward, pull the shield down and cleave through the ork’s helmet, burrowing his axe deep in its head.

“Open the gate!” Vanga thundered at the ramparts. “I am Vanga! Chosen of the Blood God! Warlord of the Crimson Hand!” He hacked and slashed at the orkz as they came. “I COMMAND YOU!”

His boast truly carried weight and moments later, the gate creaked and squealed open. Vanga waved his mighty axe to the gate and his warriors made a break for it. Big Mac ripped his horn out of the fallen big ‘un’s shield and battled his way around, looking for Pox who he’d tear apart later, once he could get him and Applebloom out of sight of each other. The bloated carrier plodded as quickly as one could with dead muscles and bones eaten away to sponges. A sorcerer surrounded himself and them in a roaring, blinding fog of flies, devouring orkz to bones as they tried to enter the miasma. His passengers were deathly afraid at the bogged down brawl.

Mig Mac ran over, pushed Pox aside, and lowered his shoulder to the fillies.

“Get on.”

The crusaders hastily got on his back and he charged for the open gate, avoiding as best he could the orkz that tried to work out their choppi’n arms on the little ones. On the other side, he dropped them off to the side of the gateway and charged back out to help clear the way for the rest of the troops.

“Everypony aright?” Pox checked the three fillies, unable to ignore his sense of paternal duty. They dripped with blood and fungus spores and Applebloom had a choppa in her back.

“Ah think so.” she said, yanking it out

Scootaloo checked to see if her cutiemark was still there. The eight pointed star remained.

A small number of orkz tried to enter the city but were massacred by the defenders. The skirmish raged outside for a while and a steady flow of heretics came through, limping, crawling, or parading in with overflowing bravado. The racket of battle progressively quieted down and the four grew apprehensive as Big Mac and Vanga seemed not to have entered yet.

The gate eventually let itself go with gravity and crashed down. Dust blew and chains rattled with the bang. Applebloom ran to the sound of a repeating clang to find her brother. He limped along, his left hind leg mechanically groaned and squeaked as he walked and wobbled at the joint. Vanga held him by the handle on his neck, both of them covered in nicks and deeply cut plates.

“To the Keep of Skulls!” Vanga barked.

The khornates formed a ragged, battle damaged column and headed into the city. Vanga pulled his limping steed forward. Once at the keep, they’d be refitted, redressed, and rejoin the battle. Big Mac would get a painful re-fabrication of his hide.

“Brother!” one rotting heretic called to Pox. “Are you not coming with us?” The nurgle worshipers were headed in another direction.

“Jus gonna make sure these here fillies get with their friend safe.”

Applebloom watched her brother struggle and walked by him, keeping to his right side. “You aright Big Mac?”

“E’yep” he lied, listing heavily to the left.

Applebloom was dizzied by the sights of a city, its tall buildings, flowing rivers of people, and so many stores, shops, and the smells of raw meat everywhere. The noise of people walking and howls of daemons and death was ubiquitous.

“This really where ya live?”

“N’nope.” He pointed his head to the sky spearing towers at the center of the sprawls.

“Woah-“

A giant metal hoof slammed into Big Mac from around the street corner, kicking him up and he seemed stuck to it. Vanga and Applebloom were thrown back.

“Wh-wh-what did I just hit?” Fluttershy sputtered. “Eek!”

“Hey, let go a him!” Applebloom punched Fluttershy’s hoof to no effect. Vanga stood silent. Words were not necessary to express his rage.

Big Mac’s iron body forcibly crumpled and crushed toward her hoof.

“No, no, no!” Fluttershy cried, her head starting to pound. She tried to scrape him off with her other hoof but it stuck also to his face. She tried to separate them. He wailed as she pulled apart more strongly and the sections between his torso and hind legs popped and cracked.

She ripped him in half. Liquid fire poured from pipes in his separated waist and torso and he seemed to perish. His fiery eyes extinguished. Fluttershy took a moment to mentally process the strange arrangement of bodyparts on her hoofs.

“Big Mac!” Applebloom cried. Caustic tears trickled from her dry, amber eyes.

Fluttershy screeched in terror at the work on her hoofs and smashed them together to try to put him back together. They rang against one another and there was no sign of him between them. She separated her legs and there was nothing but a crushed face, dissolving into her hoof. Her accelerating heartbeat sent shockwaves of pain through her whole body and her daemonic features manifested themselves again. She would consciously witness her transformation, swelling joints, shortening neck, and elongating claws.

“No, please. I don’t wanna be mad. I don’t wanna…” She growled and whimpered.

“Grapples!” Vanga bellowed to his troops. “Grapples! Tie it down!”

Everyone on the block scrambled. Anything and everything they could find, torture hooks, grappling hooks, fishing hooks, anything to catch and restrain her. Rarity held her hoof, knowing what she'd have to do.

Fluttershy snatched her hoof from Rarity's hold and clutched her head as hers and Big Mac's minds crashed. Everyone around her was a target and ropes flew around her like streamers, clasping her legs and fusing to her body. She was half laughing, half crying at their attempt and glared at Big Mac's little sis with a soul rending grin and bloody tears running down her cheeks.

"Applebloom, run."

Twilight teleported herself and into her apartment and rummaged through her things. She had to know. Miss Cheerlie’s words buzzed in her brain like a furious beehive. Remaining black stains on the floor reminded her of the night before. She shuddered and wished to forget.

“Daemonancy, daemonancy, come on!”

She raged as it wasn’t placed in alphabetical order with the other books and teleported back to find her answer. The dark cloud around her scattered and her ears were assaulted by the blaring music outside a room full of Slaanesh iconography. Octavia was preparing Kivsin for the ritual and pretended nothing happened while Twilight was gone.

“That was quick.” Octavia said.

“I would have found the book faster is somepony organized them better.” Twilight glared at Kivsin. “Is he ready?”

“As best I could prepare him. Consuming souls really did this to you? Just so you know, I’ve never done this before.”

“I need to know if I’ve fallen that far. If I’m really a daemon.”

With the potential daemon already present, Octavia skipped to the environmental preparations in the book. Twilight lit the incense in her flaming, tail and mane and Kivsin lay lengthwise, along a large mark of Slaanesh on the floor. The air was soon filled with the unholy smoke and Octavia painted a chaos star on Kivsin’s face and chest with the blood of a sacrifice. One of the dancers that enjoyed Vinyl’s deafening noise in the other room served well.

"We are gathered here today to join these two being in unholy union." the dark sermon began. "In our midst, is a servant of the great gods, here to be incepted into a worthy vessel and infest it with the plague of darkness. Do you seek a vehicle to carry out the gods' intents?"

"Yes." Twilight answered edgily.

"Kivsin, will you accept a child of chaos into your being, and share flesh and blood until separation or death?"

"Y-yes." he gulped, quaking on the mark.

"Then let the seed of his demise be planted for the greater glory of Chaos."

Twilight picked up the headless body of the sacrifice and sank her fangs into its shoulder. She drank it to a tight husk and rested her hooves on Kivsin’s face and chest. Her horn illuminated brightly and Kivsin whimpered in fear.

Twilight felt but a mere tingle as her fur evaporated into lingering flames. She only opened her eyes when she started to loose feeling in her hoofs as they choked Kivsin in a burning mask. Her entire body dissolved into fire and even she was frightened. Her jaw, face, then the rest of her head disintegrated. Kivsin gasped and writhed with the flames. He tried to breathe, inadvertently inhaling his master, choking breath by breath. He sat up when he met real air again, his lungs on fire and fur singed.

"Master?" He clutched his aching chest. His body didn't respond. "Master!?" he yelled at himself more distressed. He immediately felt lost, the small room felt too open and foreign.

Octavia put her hoof on his shoulder. “Give her time. Now where were we?” She released her cello onto a beanbag chair, balancing on her one hind leg. She hopped to Kivsin and carefully sat in his lap. “When she isn’t here, you are mine, understand?” She poked his heaving chest. “Friend of your owner.”

Her maw opened slightly, brushing its teeth against him and a set of tentacles wrapped around his leg that supported her. One gently pulled his head down to her.

“Take your time, Twilight.” she whispered.

Kivsin didn’t much object to this feeling of his person. While Twilight was searching for the book, Octavia had her way with him and he enjoyed it a little also. She took one of his hooves and stuffed it in her maw. He took his lips away as he didn't know what she was doing.

"Easy." she said softly. The teeth gently stroked his leg. "Just find my sweet spot and beat it like an egg." she said hotly.

He felt around in her torso. A thick membrane separated her organs from the outside. He felt the ripples of her ribcage and found a small bump just below her left lung.

She grunted in pleasure, "Right there. Oh yes."

She returned to her business with him as he worked the area with his hoof. More tendrils slowly emerged from the membranes inside her and filled her great mouth. Kivsin took his hoof away as he grew nervous but her tentacles grabbed it and forced it back to her pleasure center. Her eyes dilated and she gritted her teeth as the sensation grew and she could barely hold back the swirling mass in her body. At completion, her maw jerked open and the tentacles washed over him, grabbing every feature of his body and yanked him into Octavia's open side. She wailed as he was packed in, pushing against her membrane and pushing her organs aside, and the great mouth snapped shut. Some tentacles retracted back into the walls of her body but a large number stayed to embrace their guest.

"My goodness." Octavia huffed. She stroked down her side, shoulder to haunches. The teeth locked her side shut tight. "So sorry. I'll be able to let you out in a while." She watched the imprints his hooves made against her coat as he pushed against the crease of the mouth. "Oh bliss. You remind me of when I locked Vinyl in there. That taught her not to borrow my cello without my permission." She laid on her back with him in her side. "So, tell me how you got those scars."

Pools of molten steel boiled around her. The stifling heat made Rarity feel sticky in her armour but the snarling monster before her was far more important.

“Fluttershy, p-please stop.”

The horned beast crawled to balance between the glowing, rectangular vats of the giant dwarven forges. The huge facility was evacuated as the chaos dwarfs didn’t dare fire their lead and metallic shot at Fluttershy. Rarity looked around through the glass eyes of her armor. Applebloom was hiding securely in a pile of chains to the right. To the far left, a dwarf slaver was coordinating a mob of goblin slaves to manipulate chains that controlled a hellcannon riding on railings on the ceiling, catching up to Fluttershy.

“Dear, please stop this. I can see what is going to happen and I can’t stand to see you in this much pain.”

“I’ll never stop.” Fluttershy grimaced. “Not while there’s still one living soul left in the world. Everything must die and I’ll start with you and Applebloom. I want to fell Big Mac lose it when I grind her up…” her jagged teeth spun and whirled, “and burn what’s left. Then, I’m gonna drown the world in blood, endless killing, for the blood god.” She twinged and was suddenly struck by a fireball of warp energy.

“Got her!” Scootaloo jeered. “Great shot Sweetiebelle!”

The mouthy filly released the lever of a smoking hellcannon. “Thanks!”

The artillery piece wailed and moaned with the tortured souls bound within. The great mouth of a bore flexed and screamed. Fluttershy readjusted herself and felt where the shot hit. A good chunk of her chest was melted away but she was too frenzied to care.

“Drop it!” the slaver commanded.

The gobbos released the chains and the other cannon plummeted onto Fluttershy with a hellish crash. She was stuck on her belly and Rarity carefully got closer, her vision beginning to come to fruition.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let it come true.” Rarity said as she placed her hand on the beast’s cheek and electrocuted her severely. Fluttershy’s metal form amplified the effect.

“YOU CAN’T HURT ME!” she screamed, truly suffering. Her claw tried to lunge forward and impale Rarity but the frame of the artillery had her. Rarity took another breath and pumped another massive jolt into her friend, hoping to make her pass out. Again and again, Fluttershy slowly faded, her body smoking. “You…call this pain?” she drooled. A simple plan came to mind and Rarity was frightened to see her grin. She let out most of the metal she’d taken in. Arms, armor, and metal sheets, budded out and fell into the vats around her. She then took the hellcannon instead.

“Don’t you dare do it!” Rarity ordered. She slapped her other hand on Fluttershy’s snapping muzzle and put in everything she had. The artillery bellowed through Fluttershy and her mouth dribbled the raw soul energy that was its ammunition. “No! Stop!” Rarity gave her a punch that boomed with a shockwave and deeply dented her cheek.

The monster stood with the weapon fully assimilated and built up a shot to unleash on Rarity. The outsized unicorn ran as Fluttershy’s mouth filled and she felt a sudden surge. Not a buildup of anger but more of a flush of it, away. She looked at her paws, the bloody claws from killing so many while chasing Applebloom. The taste of the shot was repulsive and she spat the shot behind her. It exploded in a hissing mushroom cloud. She felt her horn, this gigantic blade shooting up from her nose, still bearing many bodies and metal plates form smashing through buildings. Her heart melted as she looked around to the little fillies coming out of hiding and Rarity, who still had a deathly frightened look.

“Don’t run.” Rarity said. Fluttershy couldn’t bear what she’d almost done, what she said and did, and backed up.

“There it is!” Vanga barked from outside the forge. “It has my steed! Seize it!”

Rarity ran up to Fluttershy and wrapped her arm around her neck, holding her own wrist. “Okay, now we run.”

“Wait!” Applebloom cried. “She’s still got mah big bro and ah ain’t gonna leave ‘im!”

Rarity held Applebloom in a roll cage she made out of her other arm and looked up to Fluttershy’s miserable face. “Go Fluttershy! This is where my vision stopped! We have to get out of here!” The iron giant picked herself up and faced the charging heretics. “Just go and don’t stop for anything!” Rarity fired a great bolt of lightning and fried a couple small hostiles.

Fluttershy acted on instinct, bowed her head, and charged. She tried to ignore the shouting and striking of axes against her hard legs. Rarity looked back at the little white filly with the horned orange pegasus as they the forge became more distant. Fluttershy thundered through the streets, making sure her commuters were safe. Rarity gave her directions to anywhere but there. Even she didn’t know where they could hide.

Octavia practiced her cello as it was firmly secured in her side maw. The smoke of the incense in the room trailed toward Kivsin as his muscles and bones bubbled and expanded.

One of his eyes turned red and swiveled and blinked independently of his natural yellow eye. His skin swelled and strained as his insides redeveloped and split along his scars. His blood soaked him and his hooves budded bumps that grew into long, sharp claws. His jaw became large and powerful, armed with warp tempered steel teeth. To accommodate his weight, his wings grew to be giant. Black fluids oozed form his muscles and hardened into a shell to protect the soft flesh between the remains of his fur. His face looked more like a mask he could rip of at any moment and reveal a more hideous visage.

“Ubvit… Ubvit…” he growled.

It was one of the few words in Black Speech Octavia could understand. Kill, kill. She hastily got up and waddled to the entrance flaps, using the cello as a second leg. Kivsin grabbed her leg and rumbled furiously.

“Kill! Kill!”

“Oh Kivsin, What did I do?” Twilight said at the monster. His ears perked up and he looked back. Hazy and her ears drooped down, she held his soul in her hoof but he didn’t see it.

“Master!” He sprang up and quickly fell again with his unfamiliar weight, hitting his head on a counter.

“Ow!” Twilight grunted. She held the side of her head. “I felt that.”

“You see her don’t you?” Octavia looked to where Kivsin did, but saw and heard nothing. “Welcome back.” She waved.

Twilight knew she wouldn’t be noticed and focused on Kivsin’s soul. She examined it, dull blue and smoldering. It rattled as she shook it to find anything inside and started a strip soul spell and it flurried with memories and information. The possibilities. Cells of his true history were locked up in mystic chains, the life he never knew he had. She took the ones of his training and combat knowledge, of King Sombra and all the business he heard from him but kept away his independent will and the fact he was once part of the Black Guard. He was hers.

“Let’s see what we can do here.” She brought one close. “Here’s your name! Rampage.” She giggled, “You definitely look the part now.”

Her horn glowed brightly and the Druchii spell shattered. She looked to him and he was scratching his head like a rash. Without provocation, he grabbed his face and started squeezing hard. She could feel this assault on his person. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I d…I don’t know.” He feared. “What’s happening?”

Twilight quickly took another cell against his tightening grip and broke its bonds also. His other claw grabbed his neck and began crushing it. The nails dug into his skin.

“Master!?” he garbled.

Twilight’s air was already cut and she faintly took the memory of King Sombra. The image laughed insidiously as if he knew what she was doing. Those vicious green eyes seemed to accelerate her dwindling and blood ran from Kivsin’s face and throat. With the last of her breath, she broke the seal and it exploded in raucous laughter. Twilight gasped as Kivsin threw his arms down. The memories funneled back into his soul and it burned bright blue and a little hot in her hooves.

“That was different.” Octavia amusedly approached him and leaned her hoof on the possessed pony’s shoulder. She couldn’t resist the blood on him and brought her tongue close to him.

“Let her Kivsin. You need a cleanup.” Twilight said before he could push the thirsty grey mare away. She folded her legs under her body and got comfortable. “Tell me everything you remember.”

Octavia seated herself in his lap and pulled his head down so she could drink of his blood there. She tickled both their chins and her saliva stung his cuts. Twilight bent her neck to the sides she was working on and giggled.

“What I remember?” Memories flooded his mind. Their multitude filled him with nostalgia and remorse.

“Hold still!” Octavia ordered as Kivsin shuffled closer to Twilight.

“I-I remember so much! Master, thank you!”

He unloaded his information to her while Octavia drank her fill. Eventually, Twilight was struck with the realization.

“Wait a minute. How do we separate?”

Author's Notes:

There was a publishing mishap with this chapter a while back. I felt so stupid with how it looked and hopefully this is much better.