Chapter One: Worn out Places.

This is a time,
This is a place,
So we look for a future,
But there’s not much love to go around,
Tell me why this is a land of confusion?
- Land of Confusion, Genesis.

***

She stared at him, her eyes full of sympathy and yet her face cold, as though all sympathy had left it. In a soft tone she asked him:

"And how would you change who you are? You don't even know who you were."

His reply was filled with certainty:

"I do know - who I am, and who I was. And I know what I've done."

To this, she raised an eyebrow in surprise, and asked:

"And what do you think?"

His reply was a question in turn:

"Honestly?"

Her reply was full of similar certainty:

"Honestly."

His eyes misted over thoughtfully, gazing off into an abyss only he could see, before he finally replied:

"I think what I did was all I could do."

Her next question cut to the heart of the matter:

"Does that make it right?"

His eyes were dead as he looked up and delivered his soft, emotionless reply:

"That makes it the least wrong."

***

The city was obviously still being occupied by some people - he could hear fighting in the distance - but Elliot wasn't sure about even where he was, let alone what the situation was - or even what the year was. That being the case, he asked Minecroft.

Walter looked grim for a moment. "Whatever happened to you out there must have messed with your head quite a bit."

He called Jenkins over and whispered something into his ear. With an almost child-like smile, the younger man saluted and dashed off.

"You are in London," Walter said, turning back to Elliot. "The year is 2032 and we are at war with a tyrant known as Solamina."

A few of the men following them spat of the floor at the mention of Solamina's name, and Elliot felt himself feeling… angry.

"She," Walter continued, frowning at the spitting, "wants to wipe humanity away or turn us into mindless pony drones who worship her with dead smiles." He gave Elliot a concerned glance. "Any of this ring a bell?"

"Solamina..." Elliot said, frowning.

I will destroy you. Do you think any power you have, stolen or inherent, is equal to the power of Astra Solamina Maxima?

"I... remember... something..." he said quietly, but his voice trailed off. "Yeah. I remember that name. And the war. I just..."

He paused.

"Easy there," Walter chimed in. "Don't struggle to remember anything too much. We have some medics waiting to help you when we get there."

"Right," Elliot said. "Who's in charge here anyway? Redmond?"

Walter stopped in his tracks. A look of absolute confusion washed over his face. "Redmond's dead."

"Dead...?" Elliot repeated. He frowned. That didn't seem...

I take it by the fact that you're here and Solamina's armies are also inbound that you failed?

"But he was..." Elliot added, and then he coughed, flecks of blood flying, splattering his hand.

"He's been dead for two years," Walter noted, not noticing the blood. "The quicker we get you a proper check up the better. Not much further now."

"So... if he's dead... who's in charge...?" Elliot asked, wiping his hand off.

An explosion rocked a nearby building before Elliot could finish, and faster than lightning, Elliot drew his hand cannon and aimed. A handful of what looked like Converted jumped down and rushed the group, looking angry.

"Converted: fucking masters of timing," Walter bellowed as he shot a Converted at point blank range with his rifle. "Weapons free, troops!"

Elliot growled, drawing his daggers once again and charging amongst the creatures before the rest of the troops could do anything. He lashed out at them again and again, his blades slicing open arteries, stabbing through throats and heart, and generally tearing them apart. He moved fluidly, almost inhumanly.

Walter seemed to jump to each of the soldiers’ sides during the battle. Only for brief seconds was he not with one of his troop, fighting almost for them. The Sergeant aimed for the battle to be quick, taking every opportunity to go for the head.

In the distance, more gunfire sounded. The Solaminan soldiers took note of this, some of them hesitating.

Walter smiled. “Don’t like that, do we?”

As if spurred on by Walter’s remarks, the enemy charged with more vigor than before. They were greeted with a barrage of bullets from Walter’s favourite uzi.

Elliot, meanwhile, had just finished stabbing another pony when one of the Converted, an Earth Pony mare, charged into him and knocked him over. Growling in frustration, he rolled with the jump and landed a short way away from the pony, who had landed in a heap. Before the mare could move, he had stridden over to her and kicked her in the stomach, stunning her and making her yell in pain. He kicked her again, hearing ribs break, before grabbing her throat and picking her up.

“You little bitch,” he hissed angrily, tightening his grip on the mare’s neck as she gasped for breath.

The pink mare choked as he tightened his grip slightly, her eyes glaring daggers at him as she struggled to breathe.

“You’re a monster,” she managed to get out between gasps.

“I know,” he replied. There was a crack.

He dropped the corpse, stepping back from it slightly. Wide eyes stared at him, shocked and afraid, and he suddenly had another coughing fit, more blood splattering from his mouth.

“Dammit!” he swore, struggling to stay stood up.

By now the Convies and Guard had been driven off, the handful who tried to stand firm dying quickly.

From behind the massive rubble of, what used to be, a near by church, emerged Jenkins.

“Ready to do this Minecroft?” he said eagerly as he approached him.

“You already missed it private,” Minecroft replied with a smirk.

“The thought that counts,” said a new voice.

It was surreal. Nobody reacted, nobody fired a bullet. They seemed glad to see her. Beside Jenkins trotted a snow white Unicorn mare. She bore the same symbols on her uniform as the members of Walter’s troop. She wasn’t the only one either. Jenkins had two other ponies with him who were checking the area to see if it was indeed free of the enemy.

“Small Mercy,” Walter greeted. “I’d like you to meet…” He turned to Elliot.

“Elliot,” David Elliot said quietly, eyes wide at seeing the pony. “You’re…”

A pony. The Enemy.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “You’re a pony. You’re a…”

Walter put a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “A friend.”

Elliot looked at the man as though he had grown two heads.

“Friend?” He blinked. “They… they never… there aren’t any…”

Resistance/No help/Exodus/abandoned by the stinking pony scum to die - let them burn/they came to help - saved us - without them we’d have…

Elliot yelled, clutching at his head and screaming in pain as more blood came from his nose, and he felt like throwing up from the pain and nausea he felt.

“Medical attention now!” Walter ordered.

In unison, the troop surrounded Elliot. Only faint words reached Elliot’s ears before he found the darkness take hold of his sight.

“A.S.A.P… fit… safeguard… resistance.”

Resistance/no Resistance.

***

“You know this is the only way.”

“Of course it’s the only way, John. Don’t patronise me. But I’m allowed to have a moment of hesitation, aren’t I? This is my life.”

“And you’re going to give it to save the rest of the human race.”

“Yes, I am. I’m giving up my life for this. Aren’t I allowed to hesitate?”

“Not when there’s this much at stake.”

“And what happens after we win? We just enslave another race.”

“Tell me they don’t deserve it for what they did.”

“They…”

“Tell me honestly.”

“... they never came to help us. There might be those who wanted to though.”

“But they didn’t come.”

“No.”

“Exactly. Far as I’m concerned - far as a lot of people are concerned - they deserve everything they fucking get”

***

Elliot groaned and raised a hand to cover his eyes as a bright light shone into them.

“Easy there mate.”

Three figures were stood above Elliot. Two ponies and a human. He scowled - it was time for explanations. Ponies fighting alongside humans: no matter where Elliot was on Earth, that was an impossible thought, and yet, here they were. Elliot’s eyes soon got used to the light.

Walter sighed in relief. “Thought we’d lost you there.”

“Try not to move,” said...Small Mercy, was it? “We’re running a few tests for magical mental manipulation.”

“You’ll find none,” Elliot groaned, feeling certain of that much at least. “My mind is mine.”

“Do you remember anything else?” Walter asked.

“I remember that we were fighting ponies and then that one showed up,” he said, pointing at Small Mercy, “and you seemed to think that she wasn’t the enemy.”

But she’s not/she is.

The other mare, one with electric blue fur, stepped forward. She seemed offended by Elliot’s words.

“We are with the Resistance,” she exclaimed. “You know them right?”

“The what?” Elliot asked.

Resistance. Help. True Grit. War. Conflict. Friends.

“The Resistance,” Care repeated. “Equestrian Exodites.”

“I… I think I…” Elliot said quietly. He clutched at his head, making a noise of discomfort. “Why can’t I remember?”

Walter groaned thoughtfully. Small Mercy’s horn began to glow but the sergeant gestured for her to stop.

“I think I should have a talk with Mr Elliot first,” he said quietly. “Tender Care, Small Mercy, you two wait outside the room. I’ll yell when I need you.”

Both left without another word. Tender Care shot Elliot one last glance before shutting the door, leaving the two in dead silence as Walter took a seat on the bed opposite. With one calming breath, he began.

“You my friend, have quite a lot missing from that memory.” Walter gave a quick chuckle. “Maybe ‘missing’ isn’t the right word. The Resistance have been with us for a long while. They came over on the exodus from Equestria nine years ago. Anything ringing a bell?”

“Some of it…” Elliot frowned, “but it isn’t at the same time… that doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

Walter sighed. “What’s the first thing you remember?”

Fires sweeping over the Earth, bodies in the streets, cities turned to dust…

Retaliation.

“War,” Elliot said simply. “I remember the war. Fighting. Desperation. I remember…”

He trailed off.

“See that makes sense,” Walter said with a half broken smile. “It’s been like that for a long time. Thing is,” he pointed to Elliot’s clothes. “you’re not exactly dressed like one of our soldiers. Maybe you were some lone warrior?”

Elliot looked down at his battered outfit. He frowned. “Maybe. But I don’t remember being alone. I remember…”

We await your orders, sir.

“There were soldiers,” he continued, now speaking quickly, excited at this new memory. “Soldiers following my orders.” He looked up at Walter. “My name - do you know anyone by my name?”

Walter shook his head. “Only you.” he scratched his dying hair. “If men were taking orders from you then you were probably a reasonably high ranking figure - a Sergeant at least.” Walter snapped his fingers. “Did you come into contact with an Archmagi? They might have done something to you. By your skills. You probably escaped.”

The charge and the kill, a blade sweeping through bodies and necks, slicing them apart. The same symbol, again and again…

“I killed an Archmagi,” Elliot said softly, frowning as he struggled to piece together the fragments of his memory. “No… I killed more than one… I killed…”

Hundreds. All of them.

“...lots,” he finished lamely, frowning as the memories slipped away.

That familiar silence crept back into the room. Walter shut his eyes as he thought to himself. If Elliot focused, he could hear them talking outside. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he knew they were there just the same.

Walter opened his eyes again. “For now,” he began. “What you need to know is this. The Resistance has both ponies and humans in it fighting off Solamina. Hell, if it wasn’t for the Elements we’d be a worse hell than we already are.”

Elements! Enemy! ENEMY!

“...what did you say?” Elliot asked, frowning. “The Elements…?”

The eyes of the sergeant became stern. “Yes. The Elements of Harmony. Elliot…” Walter stood up. “I’m not sure what happened to you but rest assured, I will help you.”

Elliot smiled tiredly. “Thanks. ‘Preciate that.”

“Tender Care and Small Mercy are better than Jenkins at spotting magic based injuries so I asked them to look over you. There aren’t the enemy.” Walter rubbed his arm, twitching when he touched certain spot. “Believe me, I don’t know where we’d be without the Resistance and the Iron Clads to help us out.” He stopped rubbing his arm and his expression became grim. “To be honest, I don’t want to know. One of the Iron Clads may know you if you were powerful enough to meet an Archmagi and live. I’m gonna fetch one while Care and Mercy look after you. Do you think you’ll be alright?”

“Yes,” Elliot said softly. “Yes I’m fine. I just… need a few moments. I’ll be alright.”

Nodding, Walter called for the two mares to return.

“Play nice,” he said as he left.

Elliot frowned at the mares as they entered, keeping a wary eye on them, as if expecting them to throw potion on him at any moment.

“Are you going to let us treat you?” Tender Care asked, noticing the glare.

“Yes,” he replied slowly. “But I’m still not sure I trust you.”

Tender Care raised an eyebrow. “Not to worry Mr Elliot. If it helps, I’ve treated HLF before who’ve had problems trusting a pony physician. I know how to be sensitive to your requirements.”

Elliot scowled at that. “I’m not a child. You can do what you need to do, just be as quick as you can be.”

Tender Care sighed and began checking him over, leaving Elliot’s mind to wander.

If this ‘Equestrian Resistance’ thing was real, and he wasn’t somehow being manipulated (or Minecroft wasn’t somehow being manipulated…) then why couldn’t he remember them? Surely he would have been able to.

But how much do you remember, David? he asked himself. There’s a lot missing from that memory…

Like how he had even come to be in this place in the first place. So much missing, and yet…

“Where are my weapons?” he asked, suddenly remembering that he wasn’t equipped with them. In fact, he wasn’t even wearing his clothes - he was wearing hospital clothing.

“Taken aside,” Small Mercy said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be returned once you’re cleared for duty.”

“Assuming you’re actually military, of course,” Tender Care said, “and not some sort of rogue civilian type.”

“I’m military,” Elliot said with a scowl. “I’ve killed more ponies than you can count.”

“Don’t try to impress me,” Care said, scowling back at him. “Posturing doesn’t interest me.”

“I’m not posturing, you stupid nag,” Elliot hissed, suddenly clenching a fist in fury. How dare this nag question him?! Hadn’t he done enough to prove himself? Hadn’t he given enough of his blood, his sweat, his tears, his very self to this conflict, and been given nothing but pain and despair in return?! “I’m the bloody…”

“Whoa!” Small Mercy exclaimed. Tender Care turned to her, before following her gaze to Elliot’s fist. Her own eyes widened and she stepped back. Elliot’s frown turned from one of rage to confusion, until he too looked at his hand.

It was glowing. His eyes widened in surprise at that - how could his hand be glowing?

“Mercy, magical scan,” Care said quietly. The other Unicorn’s horn glowed as she stared in shock at the man.

“It’s not external,” she said quietly. “It’s internal. Like he’s generating it.”

“How is that possible?” Care asked. “Do you know anything about this?”

“I…” Elliot said, eyes wide. “No. No, I don’t remember this.”

“Everybody calm down,” a new voice said, sounding strong but fair. Elliot turned and looked to the doorway, and blinked in surprise.

A tall man in what appeared to be some sort of advanced plate armour was standing in the doorway, a helmet tucked under his arm. He had cropped blonde hair, a craggy, battered face and a scar across his right cheek.

Sam. Friend. Murdered.

“Sam…?” Elliot asked, frowning in surprise. The man looked at him, and his eyes flickered slightly in what might have been surprise.

“Hello, David,” he said quietly. “You look like shit.”

Elliot laughed, a throaty, tired sound, but nonetheless it made him feel better about himself. Somehow, beyond any hope, his friend was here.

Maybe everything would be alright after all.