Author's Notes:

AN: Here begins what exists of Chapters Eighteen and Nineteen of Convergence. ~Jed

AN Also: If you're wondering why it says BONUS HOUR SUPER CREATE, I've linked you to this video! It's listed under "Education," so you know you'll learn a lot! ~Fluffy

AN: Here begins what exists of Chapters Eighteen and Nineteen of Convergence

***

***

***

- Battle in Boston - Queen Celestia launches an assault: a combination of Spectrum and Avatar forces engage the Queen's army. The Battle is inconclusive as Queen Celestia's forces withdraw to combat an invasion of Solaminan forces.

***
Checkpoint Delta.
Sam got off the radio. The interference that had blocked their comms was gone – which was about the only good news he had to relay to his team.

“We just got word in,” the blonde man said, grimly. “Massive force inbound. Newfoals by the degree of several fucking million - they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Shit,” Errant Flight swore. “What about our reinforcements? Where are the Downtime force, or the BDF?”

“There’s been no sign,” True Grit said quietly, moving to support Steady Hoof’s P225. “Much as I hate to say it, we might be fighting this one without our cavalry for a while”

“Fuck the cavalry,” Sam said with a scowl. “We don’t need them. We’re the goddamn PHL! We’re the defenders of the human race!” He took up his PK470 and stood by the defences, brandishing the weapon angrily. “We’re gonna fucking take on every Newfoal and Guard bastard who takes on point Delta – and we’re gonna fuckin’ kill ‘em all!”

His team cheered – even Steady Hoof slammed his hooves into the ground angrily. Even as they heard the sound of thunderous hooves in the distance, coming towards them, they knew they’d do more than survive. They would hold!

***

Checkpoint Echo.

“Move it!” Eleanor yelled to the others. “Elise, Alex, get in line, Javelins up!”

She and ten of her fellow Clads were on the front line at a street.

“Are you kidding me?!” one of the local soldiers asked, eyes wide. “Are you guys seriously just gonna hold the fucking line?!”

“Yes,” Eleanor said with a growl, “we are. Clads! Javelins up!”

As one, the group of Iron Clads raised their Javelin rifles and aimed down the street.

“Fire until ten metres and then switch to close quarters!” Eleanor yelled, moving into position and raising her own Javelin rifle. “Remember, these things are likely to swamp you!”

“Brothers, sisters!” a familiar voice called, and Eleanor turned, grinning under her Paladin I helmet, as Sir Eric marched into view, his sword already drawn, modified Desert Eagle in his other hand. At least twenty other Clads, mostly Paladin I, were with him. “This is our hour! The enemy has come to take this city - all they will take from it is our ammunition through their skulls and the sharp edges of our blades through their hearts!”

“Aye!” the knights of Albion called.

“Move into position - form a second rank behind the first to help prevent them being swamped,” Eric ordered, taking up position next to Eleanor. Though she couldn't see his face, she could imagine the smile.

“You’ve been waiting for today, haven’t you?” she asked softly.

“I have been waiting for the moment where I prove my mettle,” he replied. “Perhaps that is today. Perhaps it is not. Either way, we shall see.”

He aimed his Desert Eagle down the road. Eleanor aimed her rifle as well, and they waited as a distant rumbling started.

***

Near Checkpoint Delta.

“Checkpoint Gamma is overrun!”

“There’s thousands of th -!”

“Pull back! PULL BACK!”

Lyra gritted her teeth as she galloped, her team with her. She had some of the best ponies in the Equestrian Resistance on hoof - Desert Wind and Sapphire Steel were both new recruits, Wind armed with the P220a, a recent upgrade on the old P220. Behind them were Iron Hammer, Tender Care and Mountain Tempest, all ponies who had served with crack teams in the past, as well as a young mare named Viola Heartswell who reminded Lyra a little of herself… before her injury, that was.

“This is Lyrium on the ground,” she said into her radio. “I have a team and we are moving towards the perimeter of Checkpoint Delta - report, now!”

“This is Corporal True Grit,” an all-too-familiar voice said. “Be great to have you here, Lyrium, shit’s about to go down - we have multiple targets inbound!”

“My lucky day,” Lyra muttered. “Aim to thin them up, I have Resistance ponies with me and we're gonna need them spaced out to work our skills.”

“Gotcha!” Grit said. “Don’t worry - we have some experts at thinning Newfoals out here.”

Lyra smirked. “I can believe it. There in two minutes, tops.”

“That’s not leaving a lot of leeway time,” Desert Wind pointed out as he galloped.

“I know,” Lyra said. “Try to keep up, Wind.”

And she pushed herself, her limbs moving like pistons, driving her onward, nanotechnological reintegration making her body move like a steam engine.

***

Checkpoint Echo.

“Contacts ahead!” one of the Clads yelled. “Multiple hostile inbound!”

He wasn’t wrong - Eric could see them coming, hundreds and hundreds of these accursed abomination-things, a worse crime upon the face of the Earth than even the Converted. These things, the puppets of Tirek, were a stain, a disease, and he and his soldiers were the cure.

“Warriors!” he yelled. “Fire on my mark! Give nothing, and take all! On our honour as knights, none shall pass! For Albion!”

“For Albion!” the warriors yelled in unison.

“First rank,” Eleanor said calmly. “Fire until you empty your clips. Second rank, fire when the first rank reloads. This way we will have a steady line of fire.”

There was a murmur of consent at Eleanor’s orders. Eric spun his sword and aimed his pistol, counting down the seconds until they were in range of the Javelins…

Three… they charged forward, every single one of them smiling that abominable grin.

Two… one or two tripped, and were immediately trampled, unheeded, by their fellows.

One… Pegasi leapt into the air, Unicorns charged spells…

“Fire!” he bellowed.

High-power rounds fired out of the Javelin rifles, tearing through the unarmoured horde like the proverbial tissue paper. The first rank fired and fired, while the second rank clearly looked like they were itching to begin firing as well.

“First rank reloading!” Eleanor yelled. The first rank stopped firing as their clips emptied, but immediately the second rank took up the slack, firing their own guns. Eleanor reloaded swiftly, moving her rifle back to aim at the enemy. They were now less than seventy metres from the Clads’ position.

“Second rank reloading!” another Knight yelled. Immediately the second rank began reloading, and the first rank resumed fire, tearing apart more of the creatures. Eric’s pistol fired a steady, semi automatic stream of bullets, the man picking his targets - a Pegasus here, a Unicorn who looked about ready to fire a spell there. He fired again and again, only stopping to reload his pistol. Fifty metres.

“First rank reloading!” came the cry, and the charge continued as more bullets tore the front ranks of ponies apart, their fellows charging forward regardless.

‘The Avatar was right,’ Eric thought with a grim sigh. ‘They are relentless. Fortunately, so are we.’

“Second rank reloading!” Thirty metres and still they came.

Eric snorted. He dropped the Desert Eagle and brought his sword up, activating his buckler at the same time. Twenty.

“Swords!” Eleanor yelled. As one, the Clads dropped their guns and drew their swords, activating the ‘Flaming Bastards’ and holding them ready, deploying their armour bucklers as well.

And then the tide struck.

***

Checkpoint Delta.
The charging horde was almost in weapons range now. Even at this distance… God they were terrifying. Not individually… but there were just so many - hundreds of them, if not thousands. Newfoals. He hated them - he hated that they thought they could come to Earth and just take and take and take…
“We have Lyrium inbound!” Grit said, getting off the radio. “We need to thin their ranks before she gets here!”
“We can do that,” Sam said. They were nearly in range, now…
Holy father, hear my prayer. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, For thou art with me. And I'm carrying a rifle full of hot lead, and I'm gonna empty the bastard at the first thing that comes at me.
“Fire!” he yelled. His PK470 roared as he squeezed the trigger, bullets slashing towards the Newfoals like the proverbial wrath of God. A moment later, the harsh bark of the P225 and the assault rifles of the rest of the team began sounding, bullets slamming into the zombified ponies.
And then a flash of turquoise magic incinerated one Newfoal as it charged him. Sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, Sam laughed.
Of all the ponies to come to their rescue, Lyra fucking Heartstrings was here, her team right behind her. More ponies were picked off by P220a and P225 fire, and a mare who looked like Viola Heartswell fired spell after spell in the direction of the horde, knocking them off their feet as they charged.
Heartstrings slammed into the barricade near Sam, grinning at him. He grinned back despite himself.
“Good to have you here, ma’am!” he said, firing at another Newfoal.
“Good to be here!” Lyra replied. “Now let’s make them wish they weren’t!”

***

***

- The Solaminan Empire begins preparing its force for its foray into the Spectrum Earth.

This was us setting up a three way conflict between the Solar and Solaminan empires and the human allied forces. It would have been glorious.

Imperial Airship ERAS Gloriana Regalia, March 1st, Year 6 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2030) - ‘Solaminan’ Equus.

A Guardspony mare named Cyan Cyclone took a breath, trying her best to calm her nerves as the rumble of the Zeppelin's engine drowned out all thought. Thought was not necessary - thought implied that she needed to think about anything, implied that there was uncertainty about her choices and path. Thought would not be necessary until she met the enemy - and then it would only be "how". "Why" was not a question. "For whom" was not a question. The only question was "how".

"How will I execute the will of my liege?"

"What is our purpose?!" a strong voice cried out.

Cyclone turned to regard her commanding officer, a stern-looking mare named Straight Course, whose imposing air was only heightened by the scar across her left eye, as well as her scowl. The armoured Pegasus that led her unit stood at the front of the passenger bay, perched atop the service stairs that led up to the bridge.

“To serve the Empress!” she replied to the commander, parroting her comrades around her. The words were so simple she had never had to think about them. They were the only true answer.

“Why do we serve?!” Course shouted.

“Because we must,” the reply echoed throughout the room. “Because it is what is right!”

“And what do we do to those who oppose her?!” the commander shouted once again, her voice thundering over the assembled Guardsponies.

“We destroy them!” The reply she and her comrades gave was even louder and more passionate. The very thought of anypony, anything, daring to oppose her Majesty made her blood boil with rage. Glancing at the ponies beside her, she saw they thought exactly the same thing.

A hundred pony warriors united in thought and deed, prepared to strike down any foe or infidel. This, Cyclone knew in her heart, was true harmony.

“Alright troops!” their commander said, addressing all of them. “This is what we know. We will be engaging another Equestria in combat actions today!”

There were brief murmurs of confusion - another Equestria? But that didn’t make any sense…

“Now settle your damn britches!” Course snapped. “I know, it’s confusing - but we have this information straight from top brass, High Commander Sparkle’s office itself! According to her, we are up against some sort of ‘dark mirror’ of our own Equestria: we don’t know what that means, but we should be prepared for ponies whose tactics are every bit as ruthless and precise as our own!”

“What I can tell you for certain is this!” Course continued grimly. “We will be part of a special detachment, a fleet including the Blade, the Interception, and being lead by the Solar Glory, the Gloriana Regalia and the Sidera Somniata, all under the command of Marshall Creed! This is big, ponies! The Empress wants this by the book and buckup free!”

Cyclone exchanged glances with her colleagues.

“Now, this is a recon mission,” Course clarified for her troops. “Our job is to fly in, assess the enemy’s strengths, and fly out again. Minimal engagement probability.” She paused, then grinned. “In the event we encounter a hostile force, however, we are authorised to engage with extreme bucking prejudice!”

The pony soldiers cheered, and Cyclone joined them, grinning.

“We will also have a special guest for this operation,” Course added, looking at the back of the hangar. Cyclone, curious, turned her head, as did many of her colleagues, and she gasped.

A tall, slender mare trotted along the steel floor, looking dead ahead with a grim expression. Her name was scarlet, flowing from behind her with an unnatural, almost magical air, and her coat was a brilliant shade of deep amber. As she reached Course, she turned to face them all.

She was - and Cyclone could hardly believe this - an Alicorn. Neat wings were folded behind her, and a horn was prominent on her head. She wore silver plate armour, and girt at her side were two short swords.

“Greetings,” she said simply. “I am Cataphyra: the armour of Solamina. I am here to assist you in this mission and test my own abilities. It will be an honour working alongside brave soldiers of the Empire.”

She bowed her head regally. On impulse, most of the Pegasi around Cyclone did the same, and even Straight Course bowed her head.

“An Alicorn,” whispered one of Cyclone’s comrades from next to her. “A new princess, like Princess Cadenza?”

“She didn’t introduce herself as one,” another whispered.

Course stomped a hoof, and the entire group of Guards fell silent.

“That’s enough!” the officer snapped. “No gossiping here, what are you?! A bunch of namby pamby gossip-mares?! You’re showing the unit up.”

Cataphyra smiled contently. “Fear not, Commander Course. I understand your soldiers’ confusion.” She raised her head slightly to address the ponies. “I am ascended - a blessing of our good Empress for these times of war. Once, I was like you.”

Cyclone’s eyes widened - the Empress could bring ascension? Such a thing was unheard of…

... except for a Goddess.

“If you prove truly worthy,” Cataphyra added with a smile, “you, too, may ascend as I have.”

A fresh batch of murmurs broke out at that, and Course stomped her hoof again.

“Alright, that’s enough, I said!” she snapped. “I don’t know about ascending - the chances of any of you plotheads getting there is next to squat in my mind, unless you pull your heads out of your rectums and get to it!”

At once, the troops stood to attention, if anything more sharp and more eager than before. Cyclone grinned: she didn’t know about any of the others, but she was determined that she would prove herself worthy. She, too, would ascend.

***

Checkpoint Foxtrot

Idle checked his soundproofing gear. His HUD reported all was in top condition, and he smirked.

“Hart, Gregson, ready?!” he asked.

“Ready!” Hart said.

“Set, boss!” Gregson added.

“Ladies!” Idle said to the GG3, who had set themselves up, their helmets designed to project their voices. “You’re on!”

“R-right,” Adagio said. “You’ll have to give us a moment to warm up.”

Idle scowled, and turned to look down the street as he felt a slow rumbling. He frowned - he could see shapes beginning to turn the corner, and then there they were - a whole horde of ponies… and him and his team the only damn Clads in this sector.

“You don’t have it,” he said grimly. “Clads, covering fire!”

He brought his Hellfire gun up and began firing, the heavy weapon tearing chunks out of the oncoming horde. Hart had a Javelin rifle, and was firing and reloading faster than anyone who had tested the Javelin would likely have guessed. Gregson, meanwhile, had set up a Thunderbolt R/MPG, and was firing carefully targeted rockets into the enemy’s ranks.

With their soundproofing gear active, the sound was massively muted - the better to keep the GG3 out of their heads, which was just what Idle preferred. The low thumps and vibrations of the impacts of rockets and the barking of heavy weapons sounded dulled and far away.

He threw a glance at the GG3, and Adagio, a grim expression on her face, nodded.

And then, though he couldn’t hear it, he knew she had begun to sing...

***

Checkpoint Alpha.

Kellman scowled as he heard the reports coming in from their Checkpoints across the city.

“This is Kraber at Checkpoint Bravo! Multiple hostiles are charging us! These fokkers aren’t gonna know what hit them!” There was a pause. “Although…”

“Checkpoint Echo to Checkpoint Alpha - the Iron Clads are holding for now but we need immediate reinforcements!”

“Checkpoint Delta - this is Desert Wind, Lyrium team - we’re holding, but there’s a lot of these buckers. Any word on reinforcements?!”

“The same call is going out from all our positions,” Silent Step said quietly. “What do I tell them?”

Kellman sighed - he hated being left in charge at a time like this. Checkpoint Alpha was the forward base, but he had only expected to be in charge a short time while Cheerilee was gone - he hadn’t expected the attack to fall while he was here!

“Tell them…” he began but suddenly there was a flash of light.

The figures of Discord, Marcus, Stephan, Trixie and Cheerilee were there, though the bright red letter Q on Discord’s chest differentiated him as DisQord. The Draconequus grinned.

“There,” he said. “Back in a flash, just like I said.”

“Lieutenant!” Cheerilee said. “Report!”

“The attack’s begun!” Kellman said quickly, trying not to be too taken aback by the sudden appearance of half his immediate superiors. “There must be millions of Newfoals out there!”

“Shit,” Marcus swore. “Q, can you get us where we’re needed?”

“Where’s the worst hit?” the Draconequus asked, suddenly all business.

“Er…” Kellman said, looking to Silent Step.

“Checkpoints Delta, Echo and Bravo are under attack,” she said at once. “We’ve also got reports that the GG3 are being deployed at Checkpoint Foxtrot.”

“They’ll be able to sow confusion for the moment,” DisQord said. “Alright, ladies and mares, you’re going to Checkpoint Delta.”

“Any particular reason?” Stephan asked.

“No,” DisQord said with a smirk. “I just like the sound.”

He snapped a claw and the others disappeared, and he grinned.

“What about you?!” Kellman asked, eyes wide at the display. The man was feeling utterly confused.

“Who, me?” the Draconequus asked. “I’ve got more stops to make.”

He snapped his claw, and was gone.

***

He goes to AOAverse where Elliot was convincing the Council to let them have forces - they agreed, and Elliot, Sunset Shimmer, dozens of Iron Clads, Dead Men and Errant Flight and three squadrons of ERAF are sent to help.

***

***

Elliot rolled his shoulders, the power slowly filling his body. This Driver armour stuff was surprisingly light, and contrary to what he had been expecting it didn't feel like it was hindering him at all.

Behind him was enough of a force to be considered reasonable impressive - three squadrons of ERAF, including Errant Flight, leading the newly reformed Grey Squadron, as well as dozens of Iron Clads, Elite Operative Gleeson, four hundred Dead Men and another four hundred BDF and Resistance troops, armed with the best weapons that could be pulled at short notice.

“Company ready to depart,” Gleeson said quietly, her long red hair tied back into a ponytail.

“When the portal opens,” he said to his men, “we might be thrown straight into it. ERAF, concentrate on Pegasi - keep the skies clear and ours. They won’t be used to your tactics, so use that to your advantage.”

“We know what we’re doing,” Errant said, looking prouder than Elliot had seen him in years, the Grey Squadron uniform definitely suiting him better than Red Squadron had.

“Iron Clads,” Elliot continued. “Close Quarters protocol - we need to wade in and hold up those Newfoals.”

“Understood,” one of the Clads said evenly from behind his helmet. “We’re ready, Commander.”

“Dead Men, shore up defensive perimeters - I don’t want anything getting past us,” Elliot said, turning to the gas-masked Undead and his men. “We need to hold the line. Boston is the focal point - it falls, everything falls.”

“We have purpose, sir,” the Undead replied.

“Too fokkin’ right we do,” one of his men added, and there was a shout of agreement. Elliot grinned.

“Infantry,” he added. “When we land we’ll likely be deposited at the biggest combat zone as per DisQord’s mandate. Your job will be to distribute to other zones and reinforce them, clear?”

“Clear sir,” Iron Gait, one of the lead ponies, said with a stern nod. “You hear that, buckers?! We’ve got some marching to do!”

“Sir, yes sir!” the ponies yelled.

Elliot grinned again, before turning to face the sudden light of an opening portal.

A moment later, the swirling mass of blue energy appeared, and the face of Discord - DisQord, the Q giving him away - appeared.

“Well?” he said. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?!”

***

Canon Equestria’s forces begin their move - Celly and Luna as part of the first wave.

***

Hell Blazer and Constantine are retrieved from the HTC by DisQord.

***

Checkpoint Delta
Sam growled as he reloaded. He was running low on ammunition, and he wasn’t the only one.
“Gun’s exhausted!” Desert Wind yelled from the defensive position. Sapphire Steel had already begun firing spells off to compensate for the lack of firepower, but even as skilled as she was she was no substitute for the rate of fire the minigun could have managed.
“We can’t hold forever!” Sam yelled over to Lyra. The mare threw the man a look, a scowl on her face.
“Start preparing to pull back,” she said reluctantly. Like anyone from the Avatar Earth, she hated the idea of pulling back - every inch of ground given was one nigh-on-impossible to get back - but in this instance she didn’t have a choice.
“Yeah, how about no?” a new voice called.
Suddenly, a fireball lashed out, smashing into a bunch of Newfoals and obliterating them, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. From the shadows stepped a man with a battered trenchcoat, short blonde hair spiked up, a winning grin and a cigarette lit and smoking in one hand, a fireball forming in the other.
“‘Ello guys,” he said to Sam and Lyra. “John Constantine. Master of the Dark Arts.”

He threw the fireball forming in his hands, and it bounced off a wall before incinerating five more Newfoals, though it also narrowly missed Sam’s head. The blonde man threw his friend a glare.
“Well,” Constantine said. “Dabbler in the Dark Arts anyway.”
“Need a hand?” a new voice asked.
Suddenly an armoured figure barrelled into the Newfoals, a glowing claymore sweeping in a wide arc as he slashed through something like a dozen of the creatures. Another man, crop haired and wearing simple fatigues, was firing a pistol into them, apparently unconcerned by the numbers. Even as he did so, an Earth Pony charged forward, leaping into the air and landing with a shockwave of power that scattered a dozen Newfoals. Before she could be ganged up on by more, a half-dozen blades appeared from nowhere, cutting dozens of Newfoals apart, and a blue Unicorn materialised into view, grinning viciously.
“Well,” Desert Wind said, raising an eyebrow as he knocked one of the charging Newfoals down and crushed its skull. “This is becoming a bucking little army we’ve got here!”
Another fireball lashed out, and a yellow Earth Pony in a trenchcoat ran up to Lyra, slide kicking a Newfoal that was charging her in the process. Hell Blazer stood up, readying more fireballs as he did so.
“Lovely party!” he said with a grin. “This is like London all over again!”
“Except in London, we had less troops and smarter enemies,” Lyra retorted with a wry smirk.
“Maybe,” Hell Blazer said. “Try not to jump in front of any spells this time.”
“I’ll stick to shooting them,” Lyra replied.

***

Near Checkpoint Echo.

Elliot sniffed the air as they marched through the portal. The smell of blood and death, too familiar to the man by now, was on the air.

“Confirm our position,” he said to a pony named Silent Step. She nodded, getting on her radio.

“This is BDF relief force Avatar One,” she said, “calling PHL Checkpoint Alpha. Come in please.”

A moment later, the same voice sounded from Step’s radio. “This is PHL Checkpoint Alpha. Good to hear from you Avatar One.”

Step looked bemused to be hearing her own voice coming out of the radio, but Elliot ignored the bemusement. He grabbed the pony’s radio from her.

“This is Commander Albion,” he said crisply. “We need a confirmation on our position, now.”

“Checking,” the PHL Silent Step said. “Comsat has you about one hundred ten metres east of Checkpoint Echo - they’re under heavy attack by Newfoal forces.”

“Who’s there?” Elliot asked.

“The entire Iron Clad complement and four squads of infantry,” Step said.

Elliot turned to his Clad group. “Get moving.”

“Yes sir!” their leader yelled, before gesturing to his troops. Moments later, the entire group had set off full pelt down the street, and Elliot couldn’t help but find the whole thing amusing. Only a few months ago (from his perspective) the whole idea of even seeing one Iron Clad was downright silly - now there were a good few hundred running around.

“So,” Gleeson said, coming up next to him. “How do we wanna play this now?

“We’ve reports of a mass gathering of troops at Checkpoint Delta,” the PHL Silent Step reported.

“Then that’s where we’re headed next,” Elliot said, turning to Gleeson. “We’ll need your skills for this one.”

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smirk, holding up a glowing hand. “I’m ready.”

***

Checkpoint Echo.

Eric smashed another pony into the ground, scowling. He turned on his heel and slashed at another, before bearing another down with his buckler.

"Beasts!" he bellowed. "Why won't you die?!"

They were definitely... numerous. He saw one of his fellow Clads swamped by the things as they crushed him under their weight, and growled, throwing a Newfoal with one hand directly at the crowd of ponies and bowling them over before charging at them, pulling them off his soldier with his gauntleted hands.

“You abominations will not win this field!” he yelled. “I shall see you all slain!”

“Eric!” Eleanor yelled, cutting through a Newfoal as she spoke. “There’s too many of them - we can’t hold forever! We’ve already lost Harry and Daniel!”

Eric scowled beneath his helmet. “We may not hold forever, but we will hold for as long as we can!”

“Yes sir!” Eleanor yelled back without hesitation, returning her full attention to the fray. Eric also turned, grabbing a Newfoal by the throat, slashing at two more, before throwing the third through a collection of its comrades.

Suddenly a hail of bullets tore down the street, cutting dozens of Newfoals down. Eric turned, grinning as more Iron Clads appeared - what must have been dozens of them, likely the entire complement from the British Isles or more. They jogged up to him, many of them drawing swords as they ran, and they slammed into the oncoming horde. One or two brought their arms up, and bolts of arcane power lashed out - this was dangerous for them: they could do that, but it wasn’t generally advised.

The hell with ‘advised’, Eric decided, turning back to the battle and bringing his sword swinging in an arc, carving through two more Newfoals.

“Eric!” one of the new warriors said cheerily. “This is fun!”

“Indeed!” Eric replied with a slight grin. “I’m having the time of my life!”

“You two,” Eleanor commented, stepping back and punching a Newfoal to the ground, the thing’s head splitting from the impact, “are insane!”

***

***

“Alright,” Discord said, dusting off his hands. “They are well and truly bottlenecked, the odd stragling group aside.”

“I’d say ‘good’,” Stephan said grimly, “but that still leaves the problem of them coming this way, and now there’s more of them!”

The horde was barrelling down the street towards the group. Cheerilee tensed, and Marcus placed a hand on her shoulder. Next to them, Operative Heartstrings had already readied a spell. The firing line, Kraber and Aegis amongst them, was tense as well, and even the Iron Clad group looked less than sanguine.

“Well, Commander?” Elliot asked Marcus with a grin. “You wanna call it?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, before grinning as well. “Absolutely, Avatar.” He turned to the group. “Alright: we got two minutes so listen.”

“Listening,” Discord said, his ears growing.

Marcus sighed good naturedly. “Ok. Kraber, hold the firing line. Anything gets past our group, gun it to oblivion.”

“Gotcha,” Kraber said, throwing a salute.

Marcus turned to Discord. “Don’t waste your power wiping ‘em out. I want traps. Fragment that wave, make it easier to deal with them piecemeal.”

“Yes sir,” Discord grinned, before snapping a claw. A hail of baseballs suddenly shot towards the Newfoals, who suddenly found themselves navigating banana peels, spikey balls, big rocks and other obstacles that filled the already crowded streets.

Marcus turned to Stephan, Lyra, Trixie, Cheerilee and the Iron Clads. “We’re on close quarter duty. The fragmented line means they’ll get close enough to start hitting hard without overwhelming us. We need to use that. Ok?”

“Jawohl,” Stephan said with a grin.

“We’re with you, Marcus,” Cheerilee added.

“And me?” Elliot asked.

Marcus shrugged. “You’re the Avatar of Albion, right? Go hit things with your sword.”

Elliot laughed out loud. “It’ll be my genuine pleasure, Colonel.”

He held out a hand, and suddenly Excalibur materialised. A subtle glow surrounded Elliot, whose Driver armour whirred and buzzed, as suddenly the cloak turned from black to scarlet. Elliot began advancing towards the horde, who kept charging up the street. His sword crackled with energy, and suddenly he lashed out at the air with a single sweep. A whistling sound rang through the air, and the first thirty or so Newfoals simply dropped, blood spurting from fatal wounds, limbs falling off.

And then the Newfoals stopped.

Marcus blinked. “The hell?”

“They stopped?” Cheerilee said quietly. “But they never stop!”

Ahead of them, Elliot narrowed his eyes at the group of Newfoals.

***

***

***

Elliot blinked as the mass of flesh slowly writhed and slithered down the street, absorbing Newfoals - both alive and dead - as it went.

“Ok,” he said slowly. “Who the fuck brought the blob?!”

“The what?” Eric asked quietly from next to him.

Elliot sighed. “Eric, you’re a brave knight and a skilled fighter, but you really need to know your pop culture references.”

“Honestly,” Marcus said, looking pale, “it kinda looks more like the Thing.”

“Would have said the Flood, myself,” Discord said.

“Does it matter?” Elliot asked.

“Woulda gone for Necromorphs, personally,” Kraber added.

“Guys! Semantics!” Elliot snapped. He spun Excalibur in his hand once. “Right.”

With a sudden flash of energy, the Avatar of Albion was standing in front of the group.

“It is time to end this,” he scowled.

“Kill the dead?” Kraber asked.

“Stem the Flood?” Discord added.

“Wreck that Thing?” Marcus put in.

The Avatar simply looked at them all. “Yes.”

And he charged.

***

“So,” Marcus growled. “In addition to the biomass-eating blob, we also have another clone of Queen Celestia running around! Well, today is just fucking brilliant, isn't it?!”

“We need to put her down quickly,” Stephan wheezed, winded from the last impact. “We can't afford another protracted fight, not with everything that's happening right now.”

The Avatar had a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked at Marcus with a slow smile on his face.

“Colonel,” he asked. “Are you afraid of heights?”

Marcus blinked. “Do I want to know why you’re asking?”

The Avatar grabbed him by the arm and suddenly took off into the sky. Marcus gave a yell. “I REGRET EVERYTHIIIIIIIiiiiii…”

“Well,” Stephan said, blinking. “This is… fun.”

***

... and that is where we stopped.

Which sucks, because there was a battle against what we affectionately called the Newfoal-Necro-CellyMorph, which was a fun concept. The key point, though, is this.

This was not the end!

Convergence was planned to exist for at least two more stories and two more spinoffs, the main stories later coalesced into one big story! There would have been more battles, more death, and more epic moments!

… and guess what? We wrote a ton of stuff that was due to happen, and now we’re gonna share it with you!