Author's Notes:

Holy Hell... That took waaaaaay longer than I anticipated, but it was well worth the effort put into it. And hey, the halfway point has lined up perfectly to match the one year mark for this story, so it works.

That being said... No more chapters of over 10K back to back... That was ridiculous...

Now before I begin, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to PenumbraGlow0290, fellow Troll Squad member and adopted little sister to the Trolls. Hang in there, lil sis.

"Smile" is by Charlie Chaplin.

Big thanks to Sylvian for helping me out with his version of Daring Do again, and to Zoljen for letting me borrow his character Gungnir.

Hope you all are well, and I hope you enjoy!

Green Pastures, Cloak’s Front Porch, Equestria
50 Years After the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Cloak sighed as he finished his tale. The foals stared up at him in confusion and disbelief as the setting sun turned the sky to gold. Finally, Kingfisher spoke up.

“So, you’re telling me that you encountered Twister?” asked Kingfisher.

“Yes,” replied Cloak with a deadpan expression.

“...How? That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever! Considering that-” asked Starlight Harmony.

“Kid, it’s Twister,” chuckled Daring. “Don’t question it. I only met him once, and he gave me the worst headache of my life trying to figure him out.”

“But-” protested Starlight.

“Stars, give it a rest,” sighed Flare. “There’s no figuring out Twister. Nana Dash always said that whenever I asked about him.”

Cloak chuckled and sighed. “Well, it’s getting fairly late,” interjected Cloak. “I’m sure your parents are all wondering where you are, and you all do have dinner to get to. We can pick up the stories tomorrow.”

With a number of reluctant groans, the group of foals eventually broke off. Daring hung back for a few moments, staring into the sunset, as though remembering a distant memory. Muffin stepped out onto the porch, smiling warmly at Daring before addressing her family.

“Dinner is ready,” announced Muffin. “Daring, you are more than welcome to join us, if you want.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” replied Daring with a smile. “Leaf is at a conference out of town, and apparently I’ve got a decades-old bet to settle.”

“I’d almost forgotten,” smirked Cloak. “So Daring, who has to pay up?”

“Depends,” chuckled Daring. “Who bet that nothing happened between me and Rat?”

“HA!” yelled Cloak triumphantly. “I KNEW IT!”

“Oh for pity’s sake, brother, act your age,” snapped Dagger, in spite of the rueful smile on her face. “So when exactly did that finally start?”

“Well, it was the night that you all took shore leave together for the first time in Seaddle,” smirked Daring.

At the mention of Seaddle, Cloak flinched as though he were punched in the gut. His breath hitched slightly, and tears began to form in his eyes. Daring stopped and winced, as though realizing some sort of mistake. Cloak was still smiling though, despite the tears tracing their way down his face. Cold Snap cleared his throat.

“Grandpa, are you alright?” asked Cold Snap.

“I’ll be fine, ‘Snap,” sighed Cloak. “I’m just… That night has a lot of memories for me…”

“It had a lot of memories for all of us,” smiled Arclight, resting a hoof on his wife’s shoulder.

“Why?” asked Cold Snap. “What happened that was so important that night?”

“Hmm…” mused Cloak. “I suppose you’re old enough to hear the story.”

“What story?” asked Cold Snap, patience wearing thin. “What are you talking about, Grandpa?”

“That was the night that most of us found what we wanted from life,” replied Cloak simply. “We found something worth living for, beyond the fighting, and beyond the missions…”

Ponyville, Prose Residence, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat sighed as he lead his group down the street toward their destination. They’d fought hard for nearly four years without actual shore leave, choosing instead to rest and train on the Cirrus, ready to respond at a moment’s notice. Of course, when Dante had learned that’s what they’d been doing for the past four years, he naturally took exception to the issue. After a half-hour shouting match that could be heard from the Pit, Rat had compromised by taking the crew on a weekend vacation to Seaddle. Their current problem was that since Rat had never been on shore leave, he’d never had to get an alias. Hoxton’s solution to the issue was located in a quiet village southwest of Canterlot known as Ponyville. As he looked around at the various ponies waving at the group and giving friendly nods, he couldn’t help but feel that this would be where he’d want to retire to, if he ever got the opportunity.

“Quaint little village,” remarked Cloak.

“I’d call this a bit more than a village, Cloak,” chuckled Arclight. “It’s no Canterlot or Manehattan, but there’s plenty of ponies and businesses here.”

“Arc, they’ve got straw roof huts,” snarked Hawk. “It’s a village.”

“They aren’t actually straw,” a small voice called out. “They only look like it.”

Rat looked around in confusion to try and locate where the voice came from, finally looking down. A small grey pegasus filly with a blonde mane waved cheerfully at Rat, lopsided gold eyes shining happily. Tank looked as though he were about to burst, flopping onto his stomach and grinning. Rat couldn’t help but smile as the filly stared up at him welcomingly, without hesitation or fear.

“Hi!” squeaked the filly. “I’m Derpy! Are you new in town?”

“Yes, we’re passing through, actually,” replied Rat, crouching down to Derpy’s height. “You know, you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“Oh…” frowned Derpy, almost immediately perking up. “You seem nice, though. I can tell! You’re all good ponies!”

“Still, you should be more cautious,” chided Rat gently. “Perhaps you can help us, though. We’re looking for 312 Lunar Avenue. Could you tell us how to get there?”

“You mean Mr. Prose’s place?” clarified the filly. “Sure! I help out at the post office all the time! Follow me!”

The filly took off down the street, narrowly missing whatever came across her path as she went. Rat chuckled lightly, motioning for the group to follow. Tank crawled along the ground like a lizard, easily keeping pace with the rest of the group. It wasn’t long before they arrived at Lunar Avenue, stopping in front of an ordinary looking two-story house almost completely indistinguishable from all the others in the town. The only thing that set it apart were some random metal scraps in the front lawn, and a shed-like building set into the side of the yard.

“Here we are!” chirped Derpy. “312 Lunar Avenue!”

“Thank you so much for your help, Derpy,” smiled Rat. “Perhaps we’ll meet again someday.”

“That’d be fun!” smiled Derpy. “I better get going, though. My friend Rainbow Dash is practicing over at Sweet Apple Acres again! Bye!”

Rat watched as the young filly flew off into the sky, crashing through several clouds on her way. She seemed like a decent pony, to say the least. Honestly, this town was beginning to look more and more like paradise in Rat’s eyes. Rat walked up to the front door and knocked three times. A dark grey pegasus stallion with a messy brown mane answered it.

“Well now, I see there is a Rat on my doorstep,” the pegasus smirked as he leaned over and looked behind Rat to the others. “In fact, it’s a whole pack of them.” He leaned closer to Rat and spoke quietly. “Has something come up? Did Dante send you?”

“Not exactly,” replied Rat, slightly unnerved at how the stallion knew who he was immediately. “You’re Epic Prose?”

“I am,” Prose replied with a warm smile. “Why, need me for something?”

“In fact, we do,” replied Rat. “Hox mentioned that you would be the one to see about aliases and false identification?”

“I would be indeed,” Prose replied with a nod as he looked around before stepping aside. “Please, come in and we can talk about it in my study upstairs,” he paused and smiled slightly. “Also, if I could ask you to keep it down, my wife is taking a nap after being up most of the night as the foals bucked her kidneys.”

Rat motioned for the group to follow as he stepped through the doorway. Tank attempted to follow, but the front step let out a shrill groan of protest. Tank flinched, whimpering anxiously as he tried to ease his way onto the step. The gentle giant soon found himself stuck in the doorway, huffing in panic as he tried to free himself. With the distinct sound of splintering wood, Tank freed himself from the door, landing with all of his weight onto the front step. The giant let out a dismayed moan as he sat in a pile of splinters that used to be the front step.

“Easy, Big Guy,” reassured Hawk. “You did nothing wrong. You’ll just have to wait out here for us, okay? We’ll be back soon.”

Frowning slightly, Prose sighed, “Sorry, but my house wasn’t built with Jaegers in mind.” He then turned and started down the hallway towards the stairs. “More so for a first generation one. They just didn’t know how to think small, did they…”

Hawk immediately seized Prose and slammed him against the wall silently, placing his machete at his throat. “What do you know about it?!” hissed Hawk. “Did you put him through that hell? Did you?”

“Hawk! Stand down!” barked Rat.

“No, no, it’s alright,” Prose stated calmly. “Hawk, I’m a Shadowbolt, same as you, and I have been for a lot longer than they’ve had ponies like your friend outside.”

“...Sorry…” apologized Hawk, releasing Prose and putting away his machete. “He’s… he’s just a little foal, really. He didn’t deserve that.”

“None of them did, Hawk,” Prose said softly, rubbing his throat before gently reaching out and patting Hawk’s shoulder. “So, keep him safe. That’s the best revenge you can ever take for what they did to him.” He lowered his hoof and nods towards the stairs. “Shall we continue?”

Rat nodded in agreement, motioning for the others to follow. The group made their way to Prose’s study, stepping carefully to make sure that the stairs did not squeak beneath their hooves.

Settling into the chair behind his desk, Prose looked at the group and smiled slightly. “So, you need identities? Anything in particular you’re looking for, or do you just want the names and legal papers so you can come up with your own stories?”

“Just the names and papers should be fine,” replied Rat.

“Alright,” smirked Prose as he opened a desk drawer and rummaged through it. “Takes all the fun out of it, though.”

The stallion passed a packet of sealed envelopes to Rat, which he in turn distributed to the crew. Inside each envelope was a passport, an ID, and various other false legal documents, even including birth certificates.

“I’d spoken to Hox at length earlier,” Prose said calmly, his smirk remaining, “so you can blame him for some of the information on there, but otherwise I am sure everything should be to your liking.”

“Aw, c’mon!” groused Hawk. “‘Early Bird’? Seriously?”

“Better than ‘Wormface’,” quipped Cloak. “Honestly, don’t really get my cover name… What the hell is ‘Broadcloth’, anyhow?”

“I think it’s a kind of cheap fabric,” smirked Dagger.

“Oh…hey, wait a minute...”

“I see Hox has been spreading stories about my escapades at the concert,” sighed Clover. “‘Green Meadows’ is really close to the alias I used back then.”

“So Prose, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the Cirrus,” commented Rat. “What exactly is your specialty?”

“Infiltration, recovery, and sabotage,” replied Prose with a shrug. “I’ve actually just returned from a rather long assignment from Dante.” He paused and his smirk slipped. “It involved JSS, actually…”

“Hence why you knew so much about Tank…” mused Rat.

“Exactly,” sighed Prose. “I don’t come around the Cirrus too often, though. Last time I was there I was debriefing after basically burning my alias.” He looked to Rat, a frown forming. “But it’s in the past now, I’m sure you’ll see me around the Cirrus a lot more often now.”

Rat nodded. “Well, we’d love to stay, but we’ve got a train to catch,” replied Rat. “Heading up to Seaddle for the weekend, at Dante’s insistence. The Mob is actually putting us up in one of their finer establishments, plus I hear the Wonderbolts are in Seaddle that weekend.”

“Really? Well, I’m jealous,” chuckled Prose. “I’ve always wanted to go to a Wonderbolts show.” He sighed and waved a hoof. “But I won’t keep you any longer, I think. I’d hate to delay you when you’re on orders from Dante to go to Seaddle.” His smirk returns and he leans back. “And have fun. We don’t get many luxuries in this life, best enjoy them while you can.”

Rat nodded in agreement, signalling the group to move without a word. As he left the study, Rat noticed a hardcover book with a very familiar face on it. The author’s name was drastically different, but Rat would know Daring’s face anywhere. He felt a slight warmth rise in his face as he thought of the last time he’d seen that face…

“Didn’t know that you published books,” commented Rat.

“Well, you have your orders from Dante, and I have mine,” stated Prose cryptically as he looked to the book Rat was looking at. “Miss Yearling is the subject of mine, currently.”

“Is she doing well?” asked Rat suddenly. “...Miss Yearling, I mean.”

“She’s doing quite well, actually,” admitted Prose with a warm, perhaps even proud, smile. “Her first book has hit the best seller’s list. But she still wanders off on her adventures, and then she tells me about them.” He chuckled. “Dante wanted me to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t spill the beans on the Shadowbolts, but honestly hearing about what she gets up to and what she hasn’t told the world? I think we’re safe.”

Rat nodded and left the room. It had been a while since he’d seen Daring last. Perhaps he could look her up while in Seaddle. It would be nice to talk to her when he wasn’t on an active mission, after all. As he joined the group outside, he wondered what sorts of things they’d be up to during their stay.

Seaddle, Downtown District, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“C’mon, Big Guy!” barked Hawk. “Tickets are selling out like hotcakes! Wonderbolts only do so many hoofball games a year!”

Hawk bolted as fast as he could though the park, ducking and weaving through the crowd. Tank ambled along at an easygoing pace, watching the various ponies in the crowd with a cheerful grin on his face, even as ponies gave him wary glances and plenty of distance. Only thirty feet from the ticket booth, Hawk felt a distinctive tremor through the ground, signalling that his companion had suddenly stopped. Tank sat in the middle of the path, staring cross-eyed at a butterfly on his nose in amazement and wonder.

“Oh for fu- Really?” sighed Hawk as he watched his comrade.

Tank payed no attention to his irate companion, instead continuing to stare at the butterfly on his nose. The insect flapped its bright wings a few times before fluttering away. Tank stood up, watching the insect rise into the sky. Hawk attempted to seize his chance.

“Alright, bug’s gone, so let’s-” began Hawk before being knocked to the ground.

A large toy ball bounced painfully off of Hawk’s head and landed in front of Tank. A young pegasus colt chased after it, freezing upon seeing the hulking pegasus before him. The colt cringed, covering his head in fear. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to find the large stallion crouching down to his level, nudging the ball gently with his hoof to the colt. The foal looked up in confusion for a second before tapping the ball just as gently. It was returned to him again, the stallion tilting his head to the side. The game soon commenced, the young colt laughing happily while Tank chuckled gently.

“Just my frigging luck!” muttered Hawk. “The one time I have shore leave during a Wonderbolts hoofball game...”

“Sunstreak! You shouldn’t run off like that!” a young mare called out from the crowd, rushing forward to the colt. “You nearly gave me a- ...oh my…”

The young pegasus mare stared at Tank in alarm, her piercing blue eyes widening in shock. Tank, to his credit, attempted to make himself appear as harmless as possible, remaining in the same crouched position. Sunstreak looked down at his hooves guiltily.

“Sorry, Starbolt,” apologized Sunstreak softly. “... Would it be alright if I played with my new friend for a while?”

A wave of emotions seemed to pass over Starbolt’s face in that moment, ranging from trepidation to sadness. She cleared her throat gently. “... That’s fine, Sunstreak…” replied Starbolt gently, a hint of tears brimming in her eyes. “Just stay where I can keep an eye on you, okay?”

The young colt brightened up, a jubilant grin on his face. “Okay!” chirped Sunstreak. “Thanks, Starry!”

The colt grabbed Tank by the hoof, leading him over to an open grassy area where they could toss the ball more easily. Starbolt turned to Hawk sheepishly, clearing her throat.

“I’m so very sorry about this, sir,” apologized Starbolt. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing right now, and now you have to wait for your friend.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it, kid,” replied Hawk. “If it wasn’t your younger brother, it’d be a tree branch, or an ice cream cone, or what have you…”

“Cousin, actually, but honestly he’s basically been my younger brother his whole life,” replied Starbolt. “Still, thank you so much for humoring him. Normally, I’d tell him ‘no’, but… well, I think this is the first time I’ve seen him smile in a long time…”

“Rough life?” asked Hawk as he sat down on a nearby bench. “Name’s Early Bird, by the way. My friend’s name is Gentle Guardian, but I usually just call him ‘Big Guy’.”

“I’m Starbolt,” replied the mare, taking a seat next to Hawk. “And honestly, yes, it’s been rough for us, especially in recent months. I don’t know if you’ve heard about what’s happening in Sirejevo?”

Hawk nodded, frowning because he knew all too well. Sirejevo was a part of an imperialistic state not unlike the Elysium colony in Saddle Arabia. The nation had long been under the rule of a harsh dictator, which the Princess had tried and failed to negotiate with in previous years in order to improve the lives of its citizens. A few months ago, a group of revolutionaries decided that they’d had enough of the tyrant, and a bloody civil war erupted within the city. Recently, the Rat Pack had taken a contract from the revolutionaries to clear a path for refugee airships to flee the chaos. Hawk wondered briefly if this young mare had fled to Equestria on one of the airships that the Rat Pack had defended so well, but was interrupted as the mare continued her explanation.

“My father, my uncles, and a few of my aunts all joined up with the Resistance, sending the rest of my family here with everything we had,” continued Starbolt. “It’s been months, but we still haven’t heard anything about what’s going on over there. Most of the rest of us have handled the change well enough, but Sunstreak has been withdrawn since we arrived, barely saying more than a few words a day to any of us. This is the first time I’ve heard him say more than a few words, and certainly the first time that it’s been anything besides ‘When are Mommy and Daddy coming here?’… Honestly, I’ve been running out of answers to give him.”

“... Hell in a hoofbasket, poor kid…” murmured Hawk. “A colt his age should be more concerned with kites and caterpillars, not whether his mother and father will see him again… That’s no way to grow up at all. Foals should never have to worry about war…”

Whatever Starbolt said next was lost as Hawk’s mind drifted back through the years...

Vanhoover, Northern Woods, Equestria
20 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Hawk sighed as he checked his equipment for the third time. The JSS transports rumbled as it plowed through the woodland, carrying mercenaries, bounty hunters, and four squads of JSS elite tactical units. If the flyer was worth anything, this contract would be the largest bounty he’d ever brought in. From the description, it seemed as though it would be pretty easy money. However, as he watched Janus Security Solutions’ finest don heavy armor and prepare nasty-looking weapons, Hawk couldn’t help but feel as though they were on some kind of suicide mission. He turned to glance at the nearest elite, tapping him on the shoulder.

“So, is this target really this dangerous?” asked Hawk. “I mean, better safe than sorry, but with all the gear and shit, you’d think we’re going to bag a dragon or something.”

“What do you care, hunter?” sniffed the JSS elite. “You’re getting paid to do a job, not to think, so do your job and shut your trap.”

“Whatever you say, sunshine,” snorted Hawk.

The transports grumbled forward, finally stopping in a large clearing. The ramp lowered, and mercenary and soldier alike disembarked from the transport. Traps were set in the tall grass, and groups began organizing. The other transports continued onward, moving deeper into the woods. Hawk drew his machete, checking the sharpness of the blade. The only warning of what was about to unfold was a metallic clang and a dull thud in the direction the transports went.

Smoke began to rise above the horizon as screams broke through the air. Every head turned to face the hellish sounds coming from just beyond the treeline. A stallion hopped his way back through the treeline, missing a limb and sobbing through a shattered jaw, finally hopping onto a bear trap and killing himself instantly. Hawk flew up to a nearby tree and took cover in the branches. Whatever was beyond the treeline would take more than brute force to stop.

“Hold steady, gents!” barked a JSS officer. “We just need to lead the subject to the perimeter, and then-”

“INCOMING!” screamed a mercenary, just as half of a transport flew beyond the treeline and flattened him.

The ground trembled beneath their hooves as they gripped their weapons tighter. After several long moments, the trembling stopped. From the treeline, half of an earth stallion landed in the middle of the clearing. To the mercenaries’ horror, he was still alive, even as blood poured from an empty eye socket. The stallion coughed several times and looked as though he was about to say something, but the light left his eyes before he could. And that was the moment their target emerged.

It was a pegasus, as near as Hawk could tell, but it was larger than any he’d ever seen in his life. Its light brown coat was marred by nasty looking scars, visible even with a coat of grime and dirt over it. A jet black mane hung in a tangled mess over gleaming gold eyes, which focused in a glare of pure rage. The stallion gave a mighty roar, more akin to that of a large bear, and charged the JSS soldiers.

“HE’S CLOSED THE GAP! STRIKER TEAM, REGROU-” barked the lead commander, before being sent flying through the air with a sickening snap of bone as his neck broke.

The mercenaries screamed, lifting whatever weapons they had in defense. Spells that could knock a full-grown minotaur on his ass bounced off of the monster like raindrops. The remaining JSS elites attempted an organized defense, but were scattered like bowling pins in an instant. Hawk watched as each mercenary attempted to attack the stallion, and watched the stallion rip each one limb from limb every time. Nothing seemed to slow it down, even as its body bristled with darts, spears, and crossbow bolts. Hawk watched with stunned horror.

“Come get me, you dumb brute!” bellowed a surviving JSS soldier.

The stallion turned, eyes blazing as he charged toward the lone soldier. Hawk couldn’t begin to imagine why the JSS elite would deliberately call attention to himself like that, unless… A sudden snap of metal on bone and a roar of anguish confirmed Hawk’s suspicions. The stallion looked down as his right leg was caught in a bear trap, which he attempted to free with no success. The JSS soldier laughed cruelly, slowly approaching the wounded stallion.

“You always were a dumb brute, weren’t you, Alpha-38?” sneered the soldier as he lifted a device that crackled with electricity tauntingly. “Always so headstrong that you smashed through whatever obstacles that stood in your way, but never at the expense of your batchmates. Shame that caution all went to waste!”

The soldier stabbed the metal chain of the bear trap with the device, causing electricity to arc through it. The stallion roared in pain, thrashing about in the bear trap. Hawk felt bile rise in his throat. This wasn’t a fair fight! This was an execution!

“You shouldn’t have run away, 38,” taunted the soldier, jabbing the chain in short spurts to punctuate his statements. “Your termination was going to be painless, just like Alpha-41. I suppose that if I let you go back to the lab, it still could be. But honestly, I think this is more fitting for a beast like you. Dying cold and alone in the woods, in agony at the hooves of your hunter…”

The stallion growled in defiance, but howled in pain as the soldier increased the power on the device. The pegasus dropped to his knees, writhing in the trap as the soldier chuckled. The soldier lifted the device again, halting the flow of the lightning. The stallion whimpered, clearly terrified. There was a distinct tinge of urine as the pegasus soiled himself, curling into a ball.

“It’s strange, in a way,” laughed the stallion. “Your other batchmates were hailed as heroes in the last war. How could a mutt so pathetic as you come from the same stock? I guess there must be runts in every litter, so it falls to us to clear up the wastes of space!”

The device lifted again. The stallion flinched, shutting his eyes. He looked so much like a foal-

Big bro? ...I’m scared...

Hawk flinched as memories he thought long-dead flashed before him. He looked at the stallion, and all he could see was a scared colt-

I’m here, Redwing. No matter what happens, little buddy, I will always protect you.

“Say goodnight, beast,” sneered the soldier, raising the device.

There was no warning. A flash of steel was all it took. A fountain of red sprayed through the air. The shocked expression of the JSS soldier rolled away into the bushes. The body crumpled to the ground, dropping the device safely to the forest floor. Hawk shook his machete clean. No amount of bits was worth this.

The stallion groaned, shifting on the ground before lifting his head. A look of confusion passed over his face as he looked around to investigate why the pain had stopped. He looked over at Hawk, scanning him briefly with suspicion before wincing in pain. The stallion glared down at the bear trap, snarling as he turned his attention to removing it. Hawk watched as the stallion struggled with the trap for several minutes, attempting to remove it with little success, whimpering and growling at each failed attempt. Hawk sighed, setting his machete down as he approached the stallion against his better judgement. As Hawk got closer, the stallion turned and snarled at him, roaring directly in his face.

“Easy, big guy!” snapped Hawk, before relaxing his tone. “Easy… You’re just going to make it worse… I’m going to help you, but I can’t do that if you smash my head in, alright? Just hold still… This is probably going to hurt.”

Hawk approached the stallion’s injured hoof, taking a few moments to locate the release lever on the trap. Gritting his teeth and wondering what had possessed him to do so, Hawk pulled the lever quickly, causing the trap to fall open as the spring disengaged with a metallic snap. The stallion bellowed in pain briefly, but trailed off as he found his hoof released. After a few flexes to test his hoof, the stallion turned to look at Hawk, who merely nodded.

“Alright, you’re free now, so now we should go our sep-”

“Heh, heh, heh…”

Hawk suddenly found himself lifted off of the ground and enveloped into a bone-crushing hug by the humongous stallion. The stallion now wore a big dopey grin on his face, hugging Hawk like a foal embraces a teddy bear. Hawk squirmed in the stallion’s grip, more out of indignation than fear of being crushed.

“Alright, alright, Big Guy, put me down...” protested Hawk. “No need to get all cuddly. I just flipped a lever here. Not like I’m some kind of hero or anything, jeez…”

The stallion grunted, setting Hawk back on the ground, still grinning at the smaller pegasus. Hawk brushed his vest off, grunting as he retrieved his machete and sheathed it. The stallion leaned back and sat on his haunches, working to remove the last remaining projectiles from his body. Hawk glanced at the setting sun. Without transportation, it was too far to make it back to the city before nightfall, and now JSS would be hunting him down for betraying his contract. He walked over to the wrecked transport, retrieving two bags of emergency supplies from the storage locker, tossing one to the large stallion.

“Alright, so listen up,” began Hawk. “It’s going to be dark pretty soon, and the temperature is going to drop pretty fast, so I recommend finding some sort of shelter as soon as you can. As soon as it’s light out, try to make your way to Canterlot while keeping away from large cities. The Princess should be able to help you from there-”

For the second time that evening, Hawk found himself lifted off of the ground. The stallion had grabbed onto Hawk’s vest with his teeth, and now was carrying him deeper into the forest. Hawk sighed in exasperation. While it seemed clear that this stallion meant him no harm, he clearly did not want to part ways with Hawk.

“Alright, we’ll do it your way,” grumbled Hawk petulantly. “This better not become a habit, though!”

“Heh, heh, heh…”

“DON’T LAUGH! YOU’RE CARRYING ME WITH YOUR MOUTH, YA BIG LUG!”

Seaddle, Downtown District, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“Mr. Bird? Is everything alright?”

Hawk was jolted out of his memories by Starbolt’s hoof on his shoulder. The sounds of jubilant foals’ voices filled the air, accompanied by Tank’s distinctive chuckle. Hawk glanced over to the source of the sounds and saw that more foals had joined Tank and Sunstreak, and now they were using the large stallion as a jungle gym while he remained completely still, shaking only when he chuckled.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that, just remembering some sh- some stuff,” replied Hawk, catching himself before he used strong language.

“It’s alright,” smiled Starbolt. “I think there are times where we need to be in our own heads. Especially in times of stress…”

“Yeah, no kidding,” chuckled Hawk, smiling as he watched a foal slide down Tank’s head with a jubilant yell.

“Well, I’m sure you’re anxious to get going, so I’ll just go and tell Sunstreak-” began Starbolt.

“Let him be,” interrupted Hawk gently.

“What? Are you sure?” asked Starbolt in confusion. “You seemed anxious to be on your way before.”

“Life is too short and far too cruel,” replied Hawk. “Moments like this are often few and far between. They should be cherished and embraced, and not rushed along for material things. He’s honestly and truly happy right now, so let him hold onto that feeling. After what he’s been through, little brother deserves it.”

“Cousin.”

“Hmm?”

“He’s my cousin.”

“Oh… Yeah… Him too…”

Seaddle, Downtown District, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat could barely breathe through the artificial haze wafting from the dancefloor of the club. Synthetic drumbeats threatened to pound a hole through his brain as he attempted to drink his overpriced cider. He’d seen less haze and flashes of light during the intense fight at Pier 39 all those years before, and honestly that was preferable to what he faced now. Mares and stallions moved in time with the synthetic beat below on the dance floor, where Cloak was trying and failing to chat up mares. Phantasm was at the bar, watching over Clover as she proceeded to weep over a pile of ale mugs taller than she was.

Rat sighed, picking up his drink and moving over to where Clover was weeping obnoxiously in the corner. Something told him that if he ignored it any longer, there would be a bigger mess to clean up later.

“I just don’t get it, Phanny!” slurred Clover. “What does he see in that green-eyed, red-maned tart? What does she have that I don’t?”

“I think all he sees is an aggravation, Meadows,” replied Phantasm, before leaning in and whispering. “First off, use the fake identities or I’m taking you back to the room. Second, you don’t call me ‘Phanny’. Ever.”

“Sorry, Ph- Wispy…” hiccupped Clover. “It’s just… It’s so hard, y’know? I was there first, and this Vietmanese bitch swoops in and steals his attention like nothing! I mean, am I not pretty enough? Does he think I’m ugly or something? Am I ugly or something?”

“You’re fine, Meadows,” sighed Phantasm. “You’re not ugly.”

“You’re- you’re just sayin’ that!” slurred Clover as she slammed down another cider. “You’re not even into mares! You’re just saying that to make me feel better! BOSS! Am I pretty, Boss?”

Rat groaned internally as Clover turned her drunken attentions onto him, knocking several mugs off of the bar in the process. Honestly, Rat had never seen anyone so far gone in his life. Her eyes were bloodshot from tears and alcohol as she wobbled in place. Her makeup was smeared all down her cheeks, honestly giving her the appearance of a giant green raccoon.

“You’re fine, Meadows,” sighed Rat. “You’re not ugly.”

“But am I pretty enough for you to- y’know…” slurred Clover, making motions with her hooves.

“Meadows, you are a beautiful young mare with plenty of life ahead of her,” replied Rat placatingly. “Plus, there’s a reason why Willow has been hovering over you all evening. She’s had to chase away stallions with a stick because of you.”

“R-really?” asked Clover.

“Absolutely,” grinned Rat. “So keep your chin up. It’s not over yet.”

“Thankss, Boss,” smiled Clover. “Y’know, you’re kinda cute yourself. You should find a nice mare tonight. Show her a good time.”

“Well, uh-” began Rat.

“Unless you’re into stallions,” slurred Clover. “Nothing wrong with that. Stallions are cute. Ask any of us mares! Well, maybe not fillyfoolers, but y’know what I mean...”

“No, it’s not that, it’s-” stuttered Rat, trying to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, you’ve got a special somepony in mind, don’cha Boss?” giggled Clover.

“No, it’s-”

“Shush shush shush, no worries, Boss,” reassured Clover. “Your secret’s safe with me. You’re lucky ‘cause I already don’ remember this…”

“I-”

“Oh, Hoxy,” slurred Clover. “I knew you had a massive transmitter down there… C’mere an’ interface me, ya hunk...”

And with a loud belch and a sigh, Clover collapsed into her pile of mugs, snoring soundly.

“...What the damn hell…” groaned Rat.

“Orders?” asked Phantasm.

“Get her back to the hotel,” replied Rat with a sigh. “I’ll cover her tab. Just make sure she doesn’t die tonight, and that Hox never hears of this.”

“Hox never hears about it anyway,” smirked Phantasm. “You could slap him with Clover right now, and he’d go back to fiddling with his motors and cogs.”

“No one is that oblivious,” snorted Rat before frowning slightly. “...You’ve had something to drink tonight, haven’t you?”

“Only a few ciders,” replied Phantasm with a grin. “How’d you know?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say more than thirty words before this,” smirked Rat.

“Perhaps I don’t usually have much to say, Boss,” chuckled Phantasm. “Much easier shooting things when you’re not having to worry about small talk.”

“Maybe so, but it wouldn’t hurt to speak up every once in a while when we aren’t on the job,” replied Rat.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Phantasm as she hoisted Clover over her shoulder. “Hope you find your mare tonight, Boss.”

“She’s not my-” protested Rat.

“Shush,” interrupted Phantasm, before vanishing.

Rat sat in silence for a moment, sighing as he turned back to his cider. As much as he hated to admit it, perhaps his team was right about Daring. It might not be a long-lasting relationship, but there were definitely some sparks the last time he saw her. And then those photos…

Rat sighed as he ordered another cider. It was a moot point, considering that she was probably off in some distant corner of the world, crawling through cramped dungeons or swinging across snake-filled chasms. Besides, she probably wasn’t even looking to have any sort of fling, much less with him. He glanced over to see Cloak approaching, a convincing fake grin on his face.

“I guess Clover went a bit too hard tonight, eh Boss?” chuckled Cloak. “I will admit that she can put away more alcohol than any of the rest of us, excluding Tank.”

“Civilian names, Broadcloth,” chided Rat. “I’m guessing you didn’t have any luck on the dance floor?”

“Well, yes and no…” admitted Cloak, glancing away sheepishly.

“‘Yes and no?’” repeated Rat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh what’s the frigging use?” sighed Cloak as he slumped into Clover’s abandoned pile of mugs. “Bartender, keep ‘em coming. I’m going to be drowning my sorrows tonight!”

“Bit for your thoughts?” smirked Rat.

“It’s all pointless, this little game we play out on the dance floor, hoping to find love, but only finding cheap booze and even cheaper whoopie…” groaned Cloak.

“Get shot down?” asked Rat sympathetically.

“No, worse than that,” sighed Cloak. “I shot them down…”

“Hmm? Why would you do that?” asked Rat in confusion.

“...You’d laugh at me…” muttered Cloak.

“...You’re still on about her, aren’t you?” asked Rat.

“It’s been four years, Rat,” sighed Cloak. “And we only knew each other for a few hours… How was she able to get under my skin like that, Boss?”

“Mares really have a knack for that, don’t they?” sighed Rat.

Cloak groaned, burying his head underneath the mugs. Rat sighed sympathetically, patting the stallion’s shoulder. Crystal Rose has really made an impact on Cloak, as much as he’d denied it at first. It had not distracted him yet during a job, and he denied it vocally for years, but in quiet moments like this, it was as plain as day. Out of the corner of his eye, Rat noticed a mare approach the bar.

“Go away, miss,” mumbled Cloak. “There’s only one mare worth heartache in my life.”

“Still don’t know how to speak to a lady, do you?” quipped a familiar voice. “And not even so much as a letter in four years! What am I going to do with you, fly boy?”

Cloak sat upright immediately, whipping around to look at the mare. Crystal Rose had certainly grown up a fair bit since the last time they’d seen her. Her crimson mane flowed in a loose and gentle style down to her shoulders, and her eyes still sparkled with mischief even as they glimmered with joy. Cloak’s jaw seemed to be permanently locked open as he stared in shock. Rat cleared his throat, attempting to break the ice.

“Good to see you again, Miss Rose,” greeted Rat. “How’s your father doing?”

“Fairly well,” smiled Rose. “He sends his best to you and your crew. I must admit that I’m a little cross with him for not mentioning that you’d all be in town this evening.”

“It was a rather short-notice plan,” chuckled Rat.

“Indeed,” smirked Rose, glancing at Cloak. “I don’t suppose you’re busy this evening?”

“Hah?” articulated Cloak.

“Well, I was hoping to go for a walk through Hoofmeyer Park, and Daddy would kill me if I went this late at night all by myself,” teased Rose. “Maybe you’d be able to escort me?”

“Uh... Yeah… Yeah, of course!” replied Cloak.

“Wonderful!” replied Rose as she took Cloak by the arm. “You’ll have to regale me with all the adventures you had that kept you from writing a letter all these years…”

Rat chuckled as the mare led Cloak to the door, the poor stallion still in a somewhat stupefied condition. Despite being alone in this hellhole of light, sound, and smoke, Rat was happy that Cloak was able to reunite with the mare that he’d been thinking about for so long. Hopefully, everything went well for the two of them tonight. If only something like that could happen for him…

“Hey there, soldier,” a familiar voice chuckled. “Buy a mare a drink?”

Rat turned to find Daring Do approaching the bar in a white silk cocktail dress, her trademark smirk firmly in place. Rat grinned as he motioned the bartender to pour a drink for Daring.

“You know, normally I don’t accept drinks from strange stallions, but I’ll make an exception for you if you tell me your name,” smirked Daring.

“Call me Eagle Eye,” replied Rat with a grin. “At least for now.”

“Daring Do,” smiled Daring, her eyes dancing with mischief as she played off of Rat’s banter. “Yes, that Daring Do.”

“Daring Do, huh?” chuckled Rat. “I might have heard a few things…”

“If they’re naughty, they’re right…” grinned Daring, before chuckling lightly. “Alright, enough banter. Any more and I think I’d gag.”

“Indeed,” smiled Rat. “You look good,”

“Thanks for noticing,” smirked Daring. “It’s not as form-fitting as that flight suit you gave me, but I think it’s more socially acceptable.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” blushed Rat, remembering the photos of Daring in said flightsuit.

“Aw, did you not like the pictures I sent?” teased Daring.

“Well… yes, I did…” stuttered Rat. “Problem is, a few others noticed as well, and I got into a bit of hot water for that…”

“Don’t tell me you were passing those photos around…” smirked Daring.

“More accurate to say that I wasn’t the first to see them…”

This caught Daring off-guard as she choked on her drink, blushing slightly.

“So what have you been up to?” asked Rat, taking a swig of his drink. “Raid any dark crypts recently?”

“Writing, actually, if you can believe it,” sighed Daring. “Met a publisher in Ponyville that encouraged me to write about my adventures and a few months and far too many cups of tea later, ‘A.K. Yearling’ is a well-established author.”

“Really?” asked Rat, thinking back to Prose’s cover story in Ponyville. “Any chance of getting a signed copy?”

“Play your cards right, and I might sign the original manuscripts for you,” winked Daring.

The two drank in relative silence. If Rat wanted to take a chance, now would probably be the only time. It seemed all of his comrades had chosen to be happy, so why couldn’t he? There was no rule forbidding it. Hell, the fact that she was a Wonderbolt Reservist didn’t even matter. Rat cleared his throat.

“So…” began Rat hesitantly, heart pounding in his ears. “I don’t suppose you’ve run into any handsome adventurers in your travels, then?”

“Actually, I have,” grinned Daring.

Rat choked on his drink, coughing as he tried to clear his throat. Even from what he knew of Daring, that was shockingly blunt, and while he appreciated her candor in the matter, it still hurt like a knife in the back. Attempting to put on a brave face in spite of the sinking feeling in his gut, Rat cleared his throat.

“Oh… I see,” replied Rat. “That’s… good to hear. Any of them stand out from the rest?”

“Actually, it’s only really been one so far,” smirked Daring. “He’s definitely good-looking, very smart, charming, and he’s got a damn fine flank.”

“I… see…”

“Heck, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and hot damn he looks good! Oh the things I’d do with him if I ever got him in the sack…” chuckled Daring.

“Oh, so you haven’t-”

“No, unfortunately,” sighed Daring wistfully. “But damn, do I want to… You know what the sexiest thing about him is?”

“No…”

“He’s humble.”

Rat said nothing, instead staring at Daring in shock.

“Even after everything I just told you about, he’s humble,” explained Daring, smiling wistfully. “He’s not putting on an act or anything. He’s genuinely kind and caring, and he’s fiercely loyal to those he cares about, even as the world crumbles around him.”

“He sounds… perfect…” choked Rat. “Honestly, a mare like you deserves nothing less.”

“Thanks...” beamed Daring. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“It’s true,” replied Rat. “You’re a wonderful mare, Daring. You deserve to be happy, and I hope you enjoy that happiness tonight.”

“Oh, believe me I intend to…” grinned Daring as she finished her drink. “So, your hotel room, or are we heading back to my place?”

Rat stared in shock at Daring for the second time that evening. All emotion seemed to drain from him as his mind went completely blank.

“...what?” croaked Rat.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” laughed Daring. “I’m asking if we’re doing it in your hotel room or if you’d be willing to endure the cluttered mess and squeaky bed at my place for the sake of privacy. What’s to be confused about?”

“No, I know that, but- me?” spluttered Rat.

“Of course you!” laughed Daring. “Who’d ya think I was talking about before? Some hunky Istallion pegasus with a long mane and muscles the size of my head?”

“...Oh,” articulated Rat. “Wow...”

“I mean, are you actually interested?” asked Daring, a hint of uncertainty slipping into her voice. “I was just going off of before, but if you’re not-”

“Oh no, believe me, I am!” interrupted Rat. “I just- wow…”

“Guess we’re going to my place, then,” snickered Daring. “Seems like you’d end up wandering around the bay trying to find your hotel right now.”

“With eyes like those, can you blame me for getting lost?” grinned Rat.

“Pffft! You’re awful!” laughed Daring, smacking Rat with her wing. “Alright, let’s get out of here before you start serenading me in the moonlight, Casanova.”

“Sounds good to me,” grinned Rat.

“One last thing, though,” smirked Daring. “I’m going to be on top.”

Rat smirked, discarding a verbal reply for a passionate and enthusiastic kiss. Daring jumped in surprise before diving right into the kiss, matching Rat with equal passion and a hint of ferocity. After a minute and several prolonged stares, some shocked, some disgusted, and some approving, the two broke apart, gasping for breath as their hearts raced. Rat grinned as he tossed a bag of bits onto the bar to pay the tab, taking Daring by the hoof.

“I’m sure we can negotiate that point,” whispered Rat.

“Less talking,” growled Daring playfully. “More leaving.”

And with that, Rat took flight after Daring, gliding through the night sky as the two of them laughed breathlessly. Looking up at the moon, Rat briefly wondered how Cloak was doing with the mare that had haunted him for so long. He shook the thought away with a smile, because while he couldn’t say for sure how he did, Rat knew that those two were doing just fine...

Seaddle, Hoofmeyer Park, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Cloak felt the night air deep in his lungs as he chased after the mare who had haunted his dreams for the past few years. Rose’s laughter echoed in his ears, the beautiful unicorn mare giving a smile filled with joy and mischief. Cloak found himself unable to tell whether this was real or if it was a dream, as the laughter was indistinguishable from the sound that served as the backdrop for countless blissful dreams over the years. If this was a dream, Cloak never wanted to wake up again.

“Come on, slowpoke!” teased Rose as she rounded the corner through the gate. “I thought you’d be more fit, thanks to your line of work!”

“It’s hard to move when you’re trying to figure out whether you’re dreaming or not,” countered Cloak with a grin.

As he rounded the corner, Cloak suddenly found himself face to face with Rose as she kissed him passionately. Any witty lines or snappy retorts or clever jokes came crashing down in an instant as Cloak became lost in the kiss. Her lips were impossibly soft, and the faint floral scent of her perfume made his head spin. Cloak drank in the kiss eagerly, but soon found naught but empty air. Confused, Cloak looked up at Rose, sitting a dozen feet away on a nearby fountain.

“Still need to catch me first,” teased Rose, taking off in a brisk run.

Cloak grinned, immediately taking flight. Gliding fast and low, Cloak quickly caught up to Rose, catching her in his arms as she gave a delighted squeal and laughed. They tumbled to the ground, both laughing as they landed in the grass. Cloak kissed Rose gently on the nose, eliciting another giggle from the mare as she bopped Cloak lightly on his nose.

“You cheated,” huffed Rose playfully, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“I am a mercenary, ma’am,” grinned Cloak. “We do like to play dirty.”

“One can only hope…” smirked Rose, leaning forward and playfully biting Cloak’s ear gently.

Cloak felt his knees go wobbly as the beautiful mare nibbled behind his ear. She stopped moments before his knees gave way, and Cloak found himself falling blissfully. At least, until he hit the ground. A ringing laugh from a nearby tree branch signaled where Rose had teleported to, where she waved flirtily from a low-hanging branch.

“Now who’s cheating?” grinned Cloak.

“I am the daughter of a mob boss,” teased Rose. “We also know a few things about playing dirty.”

“Then I guess we’re even, eh?” chuckled Cloak.

“Hmmm…” mused Rose playfully. “Nah, you still need to catch me.”

With that, Rose teleported back to the ground and bolted deeper into the park, laughing as she did so. Cloak grinned and quickly followed, gliding after the mare that had haunted his dreams for so long.

Seaddle, Pacific Palisades, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“So, this is nice…” observed Arclight as he glanced around the restaurant.

Dagger merely nodded. It was one of the nicer establishments in Seaddle, recommended by Fine Print when they’d arrived earlier in the day. The decor of the room was elegant without being overly formal, allowing for a relaxed and civilized dining atmosphere. However, Dagger could only feel her pulse pounding in her ears.

“You know, Dagger, if you keep staring at the table like that, you’re going to burn a hole in it,” teased Arclight gently.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” hissed Dagger. “This was foolish-”

“Then let’s be foolish together,” replied Arclight. “Tell me what’s wrong, Dagger. Talk to me.”

“I swore I’d never let myself be vulnerable like this again!” growled Dagger.

“Then let me help you, Dagger,” replied Arclight. “I’m here now, and I’m sure as hell not leaving without you.”

Dagger sighed as Arclight watched her with concern.

“You’ve heard the story about my parents, right?” asked Dagger resignedly.

“Not from you, but yes, I have,” replied Arclight. “I know that your village was on the border of the Griffin Kingdom.”

“We watched wave after wave of Sky Wings descend upon the village, hunting the Scale Guard without discrimination,” explained Dagger, a haunted look in her eyes even as her expression remained resolute…

Rockport, Upper Steppes, Equestria
20 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Silver Bolt opened her eyes, and felt nothing but pain as she coughed ash from her lungs.

“Silvy!” Bright cheered as he embraced his twin. “You’re alright! Thank the Princess, you’re alright!”

“Bright?” asked Silver. “What happened? Where’s Mom? What about Dad? Where are we?”

“We’re under the stairs…” began Bright hesitantly. “I managed to reach Dad’s knife in time… The griffin is outside… Rest of the house was collapsing, so I pulled you in here and hoped that the stone steps would hold…”

Silver sighed in relief. “Thanks, Bobo,” smiled Silver. “So where are Mom and Dad?”

“...Silv, I think we should get some rest,” replied Bright uncomfortably, moving to block the closet door.

“...Bobo? Where’s Mom and Dad?” asked Silver hesitantly

“Silvy please, you hit your head hard on that beam, you should rest right no-” began Bright quickly.

“Bright Side, where are Mom and Dad?” repeated Silver frantically, her heart racing. “Are they hurt?”

“Silvy, please re-” urged Bright.

“MOM! DAD!” Silver called out desperately, bolting toward the broken closet door.

“SILVER, WAIT!” cried Bright. “DON’T LOOK-”

Silver froze as her brother’s warning reached her too late. They were there. Seven feet from the door lay her parents. They could easily have been sleeping. They looked peaceful in each other’s arms. For a moment, Silver believed that everything was alright. For a moment, she believed that she could call out to them, and they’d get up and pull away the fallen rafter, and they’d embrace as a family again.

But there was something wrong. Silver’s gut could instantly tell there was something very wrong. Something seemed off about the way Mom rested her head on Dad’s chest. Dad wasn’t snoring, the silent afternoon air only disturbed by the sound of creaking ruins around them. Why wasn’t Bright doing anything to move the debris? Why were Mom and Dad not moving? And why was Dad’s face turned away from Mom?

“M-mom?” asked Silver hesitantly. “D-dad? Wake up… P-please, you gotta wake up…”

“...Silv…” choked Bright. “...Please get away from the door…”

“Come on, Mom!” begged Silver. “You gotta get up! Wake Dad up!”

“...Silv…”

“Come on! Wake up! You gotta wake-”

And that’s when it happened. That terrible moment of fate. The floorboards beneath their father shifted, causing his head to swing back toward their mother. The horrible truth was revealed. Daddy’s head... Where was the rest of Daddy’s head?

“D-daddy?” asked Silver, desperately not wanting to believe. “Daddy?!”

“...Sil, please,” begged Bright.

“DADDY!” screamed Silver, her anguish piercing the night like a white-hot brand as her world shattered irreparably around her. “DADDY! MOMMY! NO! PLEASE! DADDY! PLEASE! MOMMY!”

“I’m sorry, Silv!” blubbered Bright as he held his sister close, weeping. “I’m so sorry, Silv! I’m sorry! It’s my fault, Silv! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

There were no words. No thoughts. Nothing. Nothing but anguish. Grief. Pain. Sorrow. Silver screamed and wept as she held her brother, only his words of “I’m sorry” echoing in her ears.

Seaddle, Pacific Palisades, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“Gods above, Dagger…” breathed Arclight. “I… I had no idea…”

“...I’m fine, Arc,” protested Dagger, even as tears flowed freely down her face. “It was years ago. I’ve mourned over them plenty of nights. I survived. I found a family again. I found you. It’s just-”

“-you’re afraid of losing someone that close again,” mused Arclight.

Dagger looked up at Arclight. She found herself unable to speak, but it didn’t matter. No words were needed. The two sat in silence, Arclight holding onto Dagger’s hoof gently. A weight had lifted from Dagger’s heart, leaving only an empty space behind. Dagger held onto Arclight’s hoof for dear life, as though letting go would set her adrift in the abyss.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone close,” began Arclight. “Watched my dad get himself killed about a week before I was found.”

“I… I didn’t know, Arc…” replied Dagger.

“No, don’t worry about it,” protested Arclight. “It was his own fault for trying to open a medical clinic in Coltenhagen.”

Dagger’s eyes widened at the mention of the corrupt city. The Princess herself had declared the city to be “lawless beyond hope”, and so left it to fester into a cesspool of greed and avarice. The city was filled with violence and malice for as long as anyone could remember, but no one alive knew why.

“Ironically, the gangs wanted him alive,” snorted Arclight. “He provided a vital service to all sides, and his only rule was that his clinic was a neutral ground. But the crime wars broke out, and the whole city went to hell… That’s where I was found, actually. In the aftermath of my father’s clinic burning down.”

Coltenhagen, South Slums, Denmare
19 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Fires still burned as spells rang out through the night air. The usual screams of the helpless were accompanied by the dying and dismembered, but Coltenhagen cared little for the gang wars that raged within it. Murder, rape, and robbery still occurred as though nothing was going wrong in the city. No one seemed to care that enforcers from every criminal empire in Coltenhagen were slaughtering each other by the score. It was simply another layer of sin on the orchestra of discord and corruption that was the city’s lifeblood.

For Arclight, it meant even less in the face of what he’d witnessed the previous week. He could still hear his father’s words echoing in his ears as he pulled his makeshift blanket around him closer to drive the chill from his bones. Given how his father had died, those words seemed a slap in the face now.

Help others. Bring light to darkness.

Even when dying, his father had still clung to that foolhardy belief that brought them here to the deepest hive of scum and villainy on the entire planet. Probably one of the best qualities about his father was his idealism, even in the face of utter depravity and corruption. It didn’t matter that nothing changed in spite of all he did each day, just as long as he made a difference in at least one life.

Arclight sighed as he stirred the pan of soup that looked less appetizing than the water in the long-since clogged rain gutters. It was all he had at the moment, and he’d be using it on a complete stranger. Still, a promise to a father carried a lot of weight, even a dead one. Even if this stallion could potentially-

“I’LL KILL YOU, FIEND!” bellowed the strange stallion as he rose to his hooves, glancing around wildly.

Arc nearly dropped the bowl of soup as the stallion turned his gaze on him, eyes narrowing sharply. The azure stallion surveyed his surroundings carefully, taking careful note of his bandages.

“You’ve bandaged my wounds,” stated the stallion impassively. “Why?”

“Well, I didn’t see much way around it, since I couldn’t have you bleeding all over the nice carpet,” quipped Arclight instinctively.

“Amusing,” grumbled the stallion, rolling his eyes. “But I won’t ask twice: Why help me? What do you hope to gain?”

“Keeping a promise for a damn fool who brought his only son to the scummiest place on this damn planet just so he could ‘bring light to darkness’,” sighed Arclight.

“Your father?” guessed the stallion.

“If you can call him that now,” replied Arclight.

“And what do I call you?” asked the stallion.

“Arclight,” replied Arclight briskly. “And you?”

“You may call me Moon,” replied the stallion. “You are quite skilled in healing for someone your age, Arclight.”

“Learned from dear old Dad,” sighed Arclight as he gave Moon the soup.

“Hmm…” mused Moon. “So you’re a medic, then?”

“I guess I am,” chuckled Arclight.

“Are you afraid of heights?”asked Moon cryptically.

“Um, no?”

“Good. Breathe deeply.”

“What?” asked Arclight before descending into darkness with a cloud of green.

**************************************************************

“He’s a medic, sir,” explained Moon as Arclight regained consciousness. “One of the best I’ve seen in years. I’d have bled out if it wasn’t for him.”

“And since Saw retired, you feel as though recruiting an experienced field medic should be a priority?” countered an unfamiliar stallion.

“Absolutely,” replied Moon. “Stratus agrees with me on that, and he is one of our best tacticians.”

“I don’t disagree with either of you, but you’re sure this colt can handle this life?”

“He was surviving alone on the streets of Coltenhagen, sir,” countered Moon. “He’s got the right stuff.”

“It was for a week, and there was a gang war going on as well,” piped up Arclight.

Both of the other stallions jumped in surprise and alarm. Arclight couldn’t be sure, but he swore that he saw a glimmer of approval in Moon’s eyes. The other stallion seemed a bit more wary, carefully regarding Arclight.

“Well, I figured as long as my fate was being discussed, I should probably speak up on my own behalf,” quipped Arclight. “I mean, this is probably one of those, ‘join or die” things, right? So, I figure it’d be in my best interest to convince you to take me aboard.”

“You’re very clever for your age,” mused the stallion. “What is your name?”

“Arclight, sir, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it,” replied Arclight.

“Oh? And why would that be?” asked the stallion.

“Just something to remember my father by,” replied Arclight. “He always told me ‘keep moving forward, but remember where you came from, lest you wander in circles’.”

“Wise words,” chuckled the stallion. “Very well, I’ll allow it. You may call me Dante, Arclight. Welcome to the Shadowbolts.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Arclight, glancing out into the hallway where a beautiful grey pegasus mare watched in silence. “I think I’m going to like it here…”

Seaddle, Pacific Palisades, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“Even back then, Arc?” asked Dagger as soon as she found her voice. “Even after all you saw and all the pain you felt, you still-”

“Yeah,” replied Arclight. “...Yeah, I guess I did. Even after being in the deepest pit of corruption and avarice, I still managed to get a crush on a beautiful young mare with stunning eyes.”

“But why?” asked Dagger. “Why open yourself up to such pain?”

“Because I couldn’t consider myself alive if I did,” replied Arclight. “Sure, my heart would keep on beating, and I’d still be breathing, but I wouldn’t be truly living. Life is full of great pain and great joy, but it is also all too brief. There isn’t enough of it to sit as a passive observer.”

There were no words as Dagger lifted Arclight out of his seat to kiss him desperately. Tears streamed down her face as she gripped Arclight for dear life. Arclight returned the kiss with a reassuring touch that conveyed the gentlest strength. After only a moment, Dagger broke away, her expression having returned to a semblance of normalcy.

“Pay the bill and get the food to go,” sighed Dagger with the ghost of a smile as she reached for her coat.

“But our drinks haven’t even-” began Arclight, but froze.

The look that Dagger gave Arclight invited no arguments, but promised so much more. Arclight sat transfixed for a few moments, before clearing his throat.

“Uh, check please?” asked Arclight.

Seaddle, Hoofmeyer Park, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Cloak sighed as he stared up at the stars, the Mare in the Moon watching from on high. Rose lay next to him on the grassy knoll, smiling gently as she held Cloak’s hoof. They had ran through the park until they collapsed into the grass, where the sounds of the city were far from their minds as they gazed upon the night sky.

“So who won?” chuckled Cloak, glancing over at the beautiful mare beside him.

“I did,” smirked Rose, rolling into Cloak’s arms and snuggling closer to his chest. “Rawr. I caught you.”

“Oh, no, whatever shall I do?” laughed Cloak.

“Be mine,” countered Rose, burying her face into Cloak’s chest.

Cloak laughed gently, nuzzling the top of Rose’s head. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest as he wrapped his wing protectively around her, attempting to keep the chill of the night air at bay. Every breath was filled with the sweet scent of her mane, making Cloak’s head spin as his mind became wrapped in sweet intoxication. Even now, as he held the mare that had haunted him for so long in his arms, Cloak wondered if this was all a dream, and that he’d wake up the next day at the hotel, hung over from a night of drinking to oblivion. Looking up at the Mare in the Moon, Cloak made a silent prayer to never wake up from this dream.

“Y’know, I’ve looked up at the night sky so many times back home, and I don’t think I’ve ever really noticed how beautiful it was until now,” sighed Cloak.

“... It really is…” whispered Rose quietly.

“So many stars,” smiled Cloak. “Like a tapestry of lights…”

“... It is…” choked Rose, burying her face into Cloak’s shoulder.

“Rose? What’s wrong?” asked Cloak, immediately concerned.

“Sorry, no, it’s fine,” protested Rose, even as tears streamed down her face. “Please don’t let me ruin the moment. Oh gods, I’ve waited years for this moment and now-”

Cloak didn’t say a word, instead wrapping his wings around Rose in a reassuring embrace. Rose’s resolve to not cry broke in an instant, and the unicorn mare wept into Cloak’s shoulder without restraint. Rose gripped Cloak as though she might shatter the moment that she let go, sobbing freely. Cloak hummed a soft melody into Rose’s ear, gently rocking her back and forth as her muffled sobs continued. Eventually, Rose’s sobs died down, but Cloak continued to hold her in his arms, wings wrapped around her securely.

“... I’m sorry, Cloak,” choked Rose. sniffling slightly. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Shh…” whispered Cloak. “It’s alright. Don’t apologize. Everyone cries. I’m sorry for making you cry-”

“No, it wasn’t you,” protested Rose firmly, even as her voice broke from her prior sobbing. “I… I was just remembering… My mother and I used to watch the stars all the time, ever since I was a filly. She was an astronomer for the Princess, but she’d retired shortly after having me. We’d go up to a small cabin in the woods every few months and watch the night sky, and she’d teach me about every star and constellation we saw… But now…”

“Shh…” whispered Cloak reassuringly. “It’s okay to cry, Rosie. You don’t have to put on a brave face for me.”

“I’ve never really talked about this with anypony,” whispered Rose, burying her face into Cloak’s chest. “Not even the nightmares… for a while, all I could see is the day that she died to protect me…”

“Oh, sweet Celestia…” breathed Cloak. “I had no idea… Rose, I-”

“No, it’s okay,” replied Rose. “It’s been years. Honestly, I should be fine by now, but-”

“No, Rosie,” interrupted Cloak. “There’s no ‘should be fine by now’ about it. It was a trauma for you. And it’s one that’s not easy to dismiss or forget, believe me.”

“What do you mean?” asked Rose.

“... I lost my parents, too…” replied Cloak. “Griffin-Drake War. We lived in one of the colonies on the border, just outside the city… Mom and Dad were killed by a falling support beam trying to reach me and Dagger. It’s been over a decade, and there are days where it still hurts like the day after it happened...”

“Cloak…” breathed Rose. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s alright, Rosie,” sighed Cloak, pulling her closer. “I get by.”

“How?” asked Rose. “I only lost one parent, and I can barely get up every morning. How?”

“Well, it honestly goes back to that awful night, trapped under the stairs,” began Cloak.

Rockport, Upper Steppes, Equestria
20 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Bright Side held his sister close as she continued to sob. It had been hours since she had learned of their parents’ fate, but she still continued to weep. Bright was at a loss. Between the deaths of his parents and Silver Bolt’s descent into grief, he had no clue what to do now.

“Hey, Silv,” began Bright. “Remember what Mom always sang to us when we were little?”

Silver Bolt didn’t move. Her sobs had subsided to a grim silence, but she remained hunched over.

“Smile,” sang Bright softly, his voice breaking slightly, “though your heart is aching...”

Silver turned her head away, whimpering slightly. Fresh tears streamed down her face, but she was able to keep from sobbing. Bright cleared his throat, struggling to remember the words that he’d heard countless times after nightmares or foalhood injuries.

“Smile,” continued Bright haltingly, his sobs making the phrases uneven despite the notes somehow ringing true, “even though it’s breaking…”

Silver made no move to silence him. Creaking beams and distant fires were the only other sounds that broke what would be deathly silence. Bright continued to sing softly, even as tears streamed down his face.

“When there are clouds in the sky,” choked Bright, “you’ll get by… if you smile through your fear and sorrow…Smile, and maybe tomorrow… You’ll see the sun come shining through…”

Fond memories of foalhood returned with every note, and Bright found his voice failing him as happy moments replayed in his mind. Silver’s first flight. Races through the clouds with their father. Lessons and stories with their mother. Fishing trips. Birthdays. Ghosts of the past seemed to grip Bright’s throat as he realized that countless more happy moments had been stolen from him and Silver. He swallowed hard, attempting to push past the newfound lump in his throat. He had to continue.

“...for you…” sobbed Bright.

Silver squirmed out of Bright’s grip, moving to the back corner. Bright continued to sing, his voice growing stronger even as sobs shook his body.

“Light up your face with gladness...” gulped Bright. “Hide every trace of sadness... Although a tear may be ever so near…”

Silver didn’t move. Bright moved closer, determined to lift his sister’s spirits.

“That’s the time you must keep on trying…” continued Bright.

Silver shut her eyes tighter, turning away from Bright again.

“Smile, what’s the use of crying?

“You’ll find that life is still worthwhile…”

In spite of all that had happened that day, Bright began to grin, even as tears streamed down his face. What was the use in crying, anyhow? All it did was waste time and energy, pulling you down as despair sinks into the cracks of your heart. It would be enough to drive anypony to madness. So then why did so many ponies go down that line of thought, only to end it all too soon? Why not choose happiness instead, and cling to whatever light you could find? The only one capable of taking a smile away is the pony himself, so why not just keep it around? If only Silver could see that as well…

“...If you’ll just-” began Bright.

“-think I heard something in here,” murmured a voice outside before calling out. “Hello? Is anyone still alive in here?”

Salvation. Another living soul. There was someone outside. Someone who could help them. Bright grinned jubilantly, opening his mouth.

“WE’RE H-mmmph!” began Bright, before being tackled to the ground.

“Are you stupid?!” hissed Silver. “How do you know that they aren’t going to kill us?!”

“They would have killed us already!” protested Bright. “IN HERE!”

“Tartarus, there’s somepony still alive,” swore the voice. “Rookie! Get your big friend in here!”

“Got it!” replied another voice. “Alright Big Guy, do your thing!”

There was a grunt, a blood-chilling roar, and the sudden protesting squeaks of wood against wood. A pegasus stallion in a black and purple flightsuit stepped into view, peering through the haze.

“Keep talking!” barked the stallion. “Where are you, kid?”

“Under the stairs!” called out Bright, tears of relief streaming down his face as he felt himself begin to laugh. “Thank Celestia! There’s a beam blocking the door!”

“I see it!” exclaimed the stallion. “Are you hurt?”

“No, we’re fine!” replied Bright. “My sister is a bit shaken up, but we’re not bleeding!”

“...son of a bitch…” muttered the stallion, having found the bodies of Bright and Silver’s parents. He cleared his throat and called out. “Hey, kid? What’s your name?”

“Bright Side!” replied Bright. “I’m here with my sister, Silver Bolt!”

“Ok, Bright?” continued the stallion. “We’re gonna get you out of there, just give us a second to make sure the building doesn’t collapse-”

“Don’t bother,” spat Silver. “We’ve already seen their bodies. Don’t waste your damn time.”

“...Alright, kid… Just keep yourself and your brother away from the door...” murmured the stallion. “Tank? Break it down.”

A humongous hoof smashed through the middle of the door, gripping the knob before pulling the whole door off of its hinges. A younger pegasus stallion walked through the breach, helping Bright and Silver to their hooves. Silver pushed the stallion away, her eyes flashing in anger.

“I can walk without your hooves!” snarled Silver. “Touch me again, and we’ll find out if you can do the same!”

The older stallion chuckled. “Watch yourself, Hawk,” warned the older stallion. “She’s sharp as a knife.”

“Oh stuff it, Razor,” groused Hawk. “We’re not even getting paid for this shit!”

Bright began to laugh. It didn’t matter what storms lay ahead of him. He’d keep on smiling. No one could take that away from him, no matter what they did. Even if it went away for a short while, he’d find a way to smile even through the deepest pits of Tartarus. He’d smile all the way to the grave if he had to. All he had to do now was find a way for his sister to do the same...

“...Smile…”

Seaddle, Hoofmeyer Park, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rose stared up at Cloak, tears brimming in her eyes. It seemed as though she wanted to speak, but her voice had abandoned her. Cloak cleared his throat as he wiped away a few tears from the corner of his eye.

“Since then, I’ve always tried to look at the bright side of life,” concluded Cloak. “I took the words of that song to heart, because sometimes all you’ll have is the smile on your face, but you gotta push through.”

There wasn’t a single word spoken. Rose tilted her head upwards suddenly to catch Cloak in a passionate, heartfelt kiss, tears streaming silently down her face. No words needed to be spoken. Through the pain and the sorrow, the two of them found a faint glimmering light within the darkness. After a moment that ended all too soon, they broke apart, Cloak smiling and beginning to hum as he held the mare to his chest, feeling her heartbeat against his. The notes of the song rang true as he hummed gently in his beloved’s ear. Rose sighed, smiling as she held Cloak. The moment felt right, in every possible way. If only it could last forever…

“We’re probably moving way too fast,” whispered Rose.

“Probably,” agreed Cloak. “Want to slow down?”

“Are you crazy?” smirked Rose. “You’re a mercenary out in the field, and I’m the daughter of a crime boss, next in line to take control once my father retires: we don’t exactly have a guarantee of a future, fly boy.”

“So that’s a ‘no’ to slowing down…” grinned Cloak.

“You bet your ass it’s a ‘no’, fly boy,” winked Rose, leaning in to whisper in Cloak’s ear. “Besides, after you kept me waiting for four years, you and I have a lot of lost nights to make up for, mister…”

Cloak immediately turned bright red at the implications. Just to be sure that it wasn’t wishful thinking, Cloak glanced down to look at Rose and confirm what she said. From the look that she gave him, there was little doubt. Cloak cleared his throat.

“Are you sure about that, ma’am?” replied Cloak. “I mean, what would your father say?”

“‘About time, young Shadowbolt! I’m most disappointed that you kept my daughter waiting this long! That being said, don’t break her heart or I break your wings!’” replied Rose, mimicking her father’s accent.

The two of them burst out laughing, as they had little doubt that the older stallion would say exactly that. Once again, the two fell into a comfortable silence as the night breeze gently brushed over them.

“...So…” began Cloak. “...do we want to make up for lost time now, or…”

“In a minute,” whispered Rose. “Let’s enjoy this moment for a little while longer…”

?????, ?????, ???????
???? Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“Darling, they’re coming!”

“Why? We’ve done nothing wrong!”

“It doesn’t matter now! We need to get out of here!”

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on?”

“Falcon, we’re going to need to run. Some bad ponies are coming-”

“We’re out of time! They’re here!”

“Falcon! Remember what we taught you! You’re going to have to run without us!”

“OPEN THE DOOR! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!”

“MOM! DAD!”

“RUN, FALCON!”

Seaddle, Whinney Ridge, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat gasped as he awoke in a cold sweat, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Daring stirred slightly, but didn’t seem to wake. He sighed heavily, wiping sweat from his eyes. Celestia had not raised the sun yet, but the sky had already begun to brighten. Rat stood up and walked out onto the balcony. The early morning air bit into his face as he wrapped his wings around himself. Not even memories of the night before could drive away the chill from his bones.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had the dream, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He hadn’t thought of his real name in years, not since giving Dante the false name on that fateful day. It had made sense at the time, as it gave him an alias that he could step into at a moment’s notice if things went sour with the Shadowbolts. He honestly didn’t remember much about his former life before his street rat phase, so his lie back then was only a small fib. However, in recent years, details had resurfaced in his mind and manifested in nightmares. If only-

“Rat? What’s wrong?”

Rat glanced back in surprise. Daring stared, bleary-eyed and half asleep, her mane a beautiful mess. Memories of the previous night flowed through his mind, despite being slightly soured by the nightmare that followed. Rat walked back over to the bed with a rueful smile on his face. Daring’s confused exhaustion turned to honest concern in a moment.

“Only thing wrong is that I wake up with a beautiful mare after a wonderful night, and I can’t enjoy it because of a foalish nightmare…” sighed Rat.

“Seriously? A nightmare?” asked Daring in honest disbelief. “Must have been one hell of a nightmare to frighten you of all ponies.”

“You’d be surprised, actually,” grinned Rat. “My fears can literally be boiled down to one common thread: the loss of family.”

Daring didn’t say a word. Instead, she pulled Rat close to her, resting his head on her lap, stroking his mane gently.

“Talk to me,” she pleaded gently.

“Not a whole lot to say,” sighed Rat, closing his eyes as he felt Daring’s hoof through his mane. “Just remembering the last day of my foalhood before becoming a thief. Hell, I don’t even remember it that well… and honestly, I think that’s what’s bothering me.”

“How so?” asked Daring gently, softly twirling a strand of Rat’s mane.

“It’s just…” began Rat. “I thought I’d never forget my parents or that gods-damned night… And yet, here I am… Happy, and living a life that my parents would never have approved of…”

“Stop that,” chided Daring. “Your parents would have wanted you to be happy. That’s what any decent sort of parent should want for their child.”

“Even if it goes against everything they stood for?” asked Rat.

“Pfft, I hardly think they’d argue with their son catching the eye of a mare like me,” Daring remarked as she put a hoof against her chest. “I am, after-all, a noble mare of fine birth and upbringing!”

“Wait, you’re a noble?” asked Rat in surprise.

“Yep, unfortunately,” smirked Daring. “Most ponies would call you pretty damn lucky. Not only did you get a piece of this fine noble flank, but you turned in your V-card to her as well!”

“I sure as hell won’t argue about luck, since you’re a lot more than just ‘fine noble flank’,” grinned Rat.

“You trying to flatter your way to a second helping there, soldier?”

“...Perhaps…”

“Well, keep it up, cause it’s working...”

Just as their lips met again, a distinctive beeping made Rat groan in exasperation. Daring sighed, gave Rat a rueful smirk, and walked off toward the bathroom to fire up the shower. Rat watched her leave for a few moments before slamming his comm unit onto his head.

“What?” snapped Rat.

“Yeesh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed… or in the wrong bed…” winced Hoxton.

“Hox, this had better be important…”

“Yeah, I know, you want to get back to your marefriend, but shit has really gone sideways, and I need you as hooves on the ground.”

“What’s gone wrong?” demanded Rat. “And why me? Why not one of your Infiltrator friends?”

“Well, as to ‘why you’ and all that, you’re the only one close enough to respond in time,” explained Hoxton. “And as to what’s gone wrong, well…”

Seaddle, The Smoking Snakes, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Rat walked up to the shattered front entrance to the bar, sighing as he did so. Hawk was being bandaged by a surly-looking older pony in an Equestrian Navy uniform. Tank was tying a street sign into knots and giggling at the creaking metal. Groups of law enforcement and riot squad officers were removing griffons and ponies from the building with frightening efficiency. Rat groaned as he examined the damage closer.

The wooden sign for the bar was hanging by a single frayed rope, with several splintered chunks missing. Every single window was smashed, as well as virtually every piece of furniture splintered and piled into loose barricades. There were small alcohol fires and scorch marks from larger fires everywhere. Unconscious riot squad members were being removed and placed on the sidewalk to awaken. If Rat were to have his guess, he would probably not be able to meet Daring for breakfast like he’d hoped. He walked up to Hawk, his blood pressure rising with every step.

“Alright, what the hell happened here, Hawk?” asked Rat, facehoofing as he surveyed the destruction.

“You look like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Boss,” smirked Hawk.

“Tank, I think Hawk needs a really big hug, don’t you?” asked Rat innocently.

“Alright fine!” snapped Hawk. “Jeez, no sense of humor!”

“Hard to have a sense of humor when there’s a wrecked bar behind the two of you!” snapped Rat.

“I know, I know!” snapped Hawk. “I know this shit’s bad! I’m not an idiot, despite what you may think-”

“Just... “ interrupted Rat, taking a deep breath. “Just tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

“Alright, so after we missed the Wonderbolts show, I decided to get a drink or two to cap off the night,” explained Hawk.

“And then you trashed the bar?” asked Rat.

“You honestly think I started this shit?!” asked Hawk indignantly. “All I wanted was a nice quiet drink…”

“I hope you’re happy, Big Guy,” grumbled Hawk as he sipped his ale. “Four months of waiting to go to that show, and what do I do? I let you play in the park like some oversized foal.”

Tank rested his head on the table next to Hawk and looked up at him like a wounded puppy. The effect was somewhat diminished by Tank nearly tipping the table over entirely. Thankfully, Hawk managed to stop the punchbowl of ale for Tank from overturning onto the stallion’s face. Finally, the pout became too much for Hawk to bear.

“Look, don’t worry about it, alright?” sighed Hawk, causing Tank to instantly perk up. “We’ll just go to the next one. Wonderbolts won’t be going anywhere anytime soon…”

Tank bobbed his head in agreement and resumed drinking his ale from the punchbowl. Hawk sighed and turned back to his glass. There’d be other opportunities to meet Squad Three, but meeting the legendary “Silver Streak” had been his plan to forget about… her… Honestly, it made no sense why he’d be attracted to that mare in Sireberia. They barely knew each other for fifteen minutes. Hell, he didn’t even know her real name! Why-

“-the Enterprise should be hauling garbage!” slurred a very drunk griffin from the other side of the room.

“...Ya want to rephrase that, laddie?” a stallion in a Royal Equestrian Navy uniform murmured ominously.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” taunted the griffin. “I didn’t mean to say it should be hauling garbage… I meant to say it should be hauled away AS garbage-”

The griffin didn’t even get a chance to laugh before a large bottle smacked him across the face with a distinct cracking of bone. Hawk winced as the griffin’s jaw fractured beneath a full bottle of scotch, brandished by the bright red stallion. The rest of the griffins nearby stared in shock as the stallion climbed on top of the table, removed the cork from the bottle with his teeth, and took a sizable swig from it. He sighed, smacked his lips, and then looked around at the griffins.

“Are ya just gonna take that lying down, then?” asked the stallion indignantly. “Sky Wings must be bigger pansies than I thou-”

At this, a tankard whipped by the stallion’s left ear, and the griffins let out an enraged roar before charging at the REN officers. The stallion grinned, drank more from the bottle, and promptly used it to send the first griffin sprawling. Tank looked up with excitement as he watched REN officers engage the griffins in a full barroom brawl. The stallion instantly gave Hawk a desperately pleading look.

“No, we are not getting involved!” barked Hawk.

Tank whimpered pleadingly, watching as a large griffin tumbled past him.

“No!” argued Hawk “I swear, I just want to have a quiet dr-”

The table suddenly was upended, and a flaming cocktail spilled all over Hawk’s head. The stallion sighed heavily. This was supposed to be a quiet night.

“Nothing permanent, and nothing that will get us arrested outright,” sighed Hawk as he used Tank’s punchbowl to extinguish the flames on his head.

Tank grinned at his compatriot, tossing another bottle of ale to him before roaring and joining the fight. A young griffin looked up in time for an oversized hoof to smash the side of his face with blinding speed, causing the surrounding bar to explode into stars. Hawk watched benignly as griffin after griffin toppled to the ground in a daze. One younger griffin landed hindquarters-first into Tank’s ale, showering Hawk in alcohol. The griffin groaned in dismay, too dazed to move, as Hawk turned to look at him.

“Why me?” asked Hawk. “Why does this shit only happen to me?”

No answer came. Instead, Hawk sipped his drink with as much dignity as he could muster before a table crashed upon his skull with frightening accuracy, causing the world to snap to black.

“And that’s all that you remember?” pressed Rat.

“Yes!” snapped Hawk. “For the love of the Princess, yes! Next thing I know, I’m being pulled out of the bar by the EMTs.”

“So how the devil did this get so out of hoof?!” snarled Rat.

“Mayhaps I can elaborate for ya, lad…” a gruff voice interjected.

Rat looked up in surprise. An older tabby-colored griffin with a distinctive scar on his right leg limped forward toward Rat. There were a number of fresh cuts and bruises

“And you are?” asked Rat.

“Name’s Gungnir,” replied the griffin with grin. “Your friend fights well for a pony.”

“I see…” replied Rat. “So what exactly happened?”

“Well, twas clear that the younger whelps couldn’t handle your large friend there in any sort of fight, so I decided to try me claw at it, and well…” sighed Gungnir.

Gungnir crashed hard into table behind him, causing the legs to crack and groan in protest. He spat blood from his beak and gave his opponent a wicked grin. The Equestrian Navy officers cheered while the Sky Wings roared in frustration. The overly large pegasus gave a single chuckle. Gungnir cracked his neck and stood up, ready to fight again. The two locked in a grapple.

“You’re good, bucko,” smirked Gungnir. “But ya won’t be finding me such easy prey…”

“Heh, heh, heh,” chuckled the stallion.

What had started as a barroom brawl had quickly become an illicit fighting match, complete with betting, jeering crowds, and even a set of honorable combatants. The large stallion suddenly lifted Gungnir off of the ground and tossed him again, smashing the table entirely. Gungnir smirked, picked up two legs from the table, and tossed one to his opponent. The stallion grinned.

“Ya think ya can keep up?”

“Heh, heh, heh…”

The sound of oak against oak filled the bar, rising above the cheers. Gungnir found that he had the upper claw here, his years of training in the Sky Wings giving him an edge when fighting with a weapon. Even still, his opponent seemed able to shrug off the strikes without so much as a wince. Eventually, Gungnir was going to wear down, and then-

“THIS IS SEADDLE POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Gungnir turned to the door. Seaddle’s finest, as well as a dozen squads of Royal Riot Control waited outside. The crowd roared in protest to the sudden lack of entertainment, beginning to lift bottles and broken furniture pieces. Gungnir looked at his opponent, smirking slightly.

“Whoever beats down the most coppers afore the riot foam hits wins?”

“Heh… heh… heh…”

“...You’re kidding…” sighed Rat.

“Swear on me grave,” replied Gungnir earnestly.

“How is my friend not dead or restrained?” asked Rat incredulously.

“He didn’t really hurt anyone,” chuckled Gungnir. “Mostly just picked them up and dropped them in a dumpster and sat on it until they stayed. Kind of like a foal, really.”

“Gungnir!” A stern, yet female, voice sounded. Gungnir quickly turned towards it, his ears lowering just in time to see a griffiness glaring at him. “You were told by your doctor to not get into a fight! And what have I seen?”

“Er, well.” Gungnir started, before the griffiness grabbed his ear and started to drag him away.

“Come on mister,” she growled as she dragged him away.

“So… We’re fucked, aren’t we?” asked Hawk.

“Oh yeah…” replied Rat. “And as Cloak would say ‘Not in the fun way’...”

“...Shit…”

“Heh, heh, heh...”

“I blame you for this, ya big lug…”

Cirrus, Recreation Room, Equestria
7 Years Before the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

“So nice of you to provide us with all this high-quality cider, Hawk,” grinned Cloak.

Rat smirked as Hawk glowered at Cloak. As punishment for allowing things to get so out of hoof, Rat had made Hawk pay for not only a portion of the damages to the bar, but also provide the cider and snacks for the next three poker nights.

“Fuck you,” snarled Hawk.

“Odd way of saying ‘you’re welcome’, but that works,” shrugged Cloak. “Oh and you didn’t skimp out either! Apple Family Reserve! I swear, they only make about a hundred casks of this stuff, and you bought three!”

“...Cloak, I’m going to tell Ruin that you need help serenading your mare…”

“Alright, break it up, you two,” barked Dagger, smacking Cloak on her way around the table.

“Hmph, you’re just salty that you didn’t get any last night,” pouted Cloak.

At this statement, Dagger simply smirks and sits next to Arclight, giving her stallion a uncharacteristically warm smile. Cloak stared at the display for a full minute in confusion, unsure of why his sister was not jumping all over him. Clover looked fit to burst with laughter, vibrating with anticipation while Phantasm simply observed. Finally, a spark of realization gleamed in Cloak’s eyes, the stallion’s jaw dropping to the floor.

“NO WAY!” exclaimed Cloak.

“What do you think?” grinned Dagger.

“YOU SHEBOINKED MY SISTER?!” bellowed Cloak at Arclight in shock.

“Well…” chuckled Arclight. “It was kind of a mutual thing… Y’know, I didn’t mean to on the first-”

“HOW ARE YOUR HIPS INTACT?!” yelled Cloak.

Dagger’s glare could have melted through the side of the Cirrus, even as Clover, Phantasm, and Hawk howled with laughter. Arclight turned bright red, but appeared to be struggling to stifle his own laughter at Cloak’s outburst. Dagger looked as though she were about to reply, but soon found herself cut off.

“-but I don’t even play poker!” exclaimed a familiar voice from the hall. “Razor, I have my work-”

“You were just fooling around with new materials in the forge,” Razor sighed. “All of your actual contracts were completed over an hour ago. So, until tomorrow, hush and take a load off. Relax and let your mane down for once, hmm? For my sake?”

“... Fine…” grumbled Patch. "Now gimme back the tie for my braid! You know I hate having my mane loo-"

"YOU!" Patch’s voice was joined by Hoxton’s, venom clear even to those listening to the hallway exchange. However, as they entered the room, Razor had himself squarely between them, holding them apart even as they gave each other death glares.

“Listen up, you two,” barked Razor. “Tonight, you have a truce. No fighting. At all. First one that tries to throw a punch is going to see me angry. So far, the worst either of you has seen has been annoyed. Get the picture?”

“You know me, Razor,” replied Hoxton. "I won't start anything if that nag doesn't."

"I don't start fights, you old goat,” snapped Patch. “I finish them."

"If Hox is an old goat, what does that make me?” quipped Razor. “I'm nearly old enough to be his father..."

"But you’re not a goat..." protested Patch.

"And neither is he,” chided Razor “So behave yourself, young filly."

“You’re right… Calling him a goat’s an insult to the goats,” muttered Patch in Vietmanese as her hooves nimbly worked to replait her mane. Razor frowned, smacking Patch with his wing gently as he moved to sit down. Patch scowled as her braid fell apart in her hooves, returning to an unruly and fly-away mess around her head, but said nothing as she sulkily sat next to Razor.

"What are you, her father?" smirked Hawk.

"Better than, pigeon-humper,” snarled Patch, slipping back into Vietmanese. “He's the father who volunteered."

"He probably prefers earth ponies," chuckled Rat in Vietmanese, which made Patch smirk and chuckle as well.

Razor scowled at Rat, choosing to reply in Vietmanese. “Bìzuí yòu fāhuí hún hào, yào bùrán wò wéi ní de shèzàng gěi ní...” growled Razor.

At this, Patch burst out laughing while Rat stared at the older stallion in confusion. “I’m sorry, but did you just say ‘Shut up again, send back dishonor bright, if not so fertile soft leather mare's underwear arranged storehouse for intimacy’?” asked Rat.

Razor blinked, bemused for a second before clearing his throat. “So that’s not how you say ‘Shut up and play nice, or else I feed your kidneys to you’?” asked Razor as the entire table burst into howls of laughter. Razor snorted, smiling in spite of himself.

“Alright, alright, let’s settle down and get this game going,” groused Razor good-naturedly.

“What, looking at an early night, old-timer?” jeered Hawk. “Clean only half of us out and go to bed? Also, I don’t appreciate the deliberate tampering of wagers, ‘Daddy’...”

“What wager?” asked Hoxton in confusion.

“Don’t worry about it,” dismissed Hawk.

“What wager, you little toad-humping, duck dick-sucking lump of shit!” hissed Patch before being restrained by Razor.

“Behave,” barked Razor. “One more outburst like that, and we’ll run ten more sets through the training course tonight.”

Patch flinched, despite shooting a withering glare at Hawk. “Yes, sir…”

“Alrighty then, Badlands Hold’em, standard rules. Buy-in is five thousand bits each, with small and big blinds of fifty and one hundred bits respectively. No limits, mares and gentlecolts.” quipped Hawk, as he rapidly dealt out the cards.

The first round of betting went quite normally. No one raised from the initial bet, so Hawk proceeded to deal the Flop. An Ace, a Jack, and another Ace graced the field. Hox instantly grinned.

“Five hundred!” smirked Hoxton.

“Not worth it,” replied Dagger.

“Yeah, not doing anything with these cards…” sighed Arclight.

“I’m out!” yelped Cloak.

“...Dammit… Dealer folds,” swore Hawk.

“...Fold…” murmured Phantasm

“I’m out as well,” smiled Rat.

“Fuck me sideways, I’m out, fillies and colts,” hiccupped Clover.

“Have fun, youngsters,” chuckled Razor.

“Call,” snapped Patch. “Let’s see what you’ve got, limp dick…”

“Alright, we’ve got two who’ve bitten,” announced Hawk. “You going for it, Big Guy?”

“Heh, heh, heh,” chuckled Tank as he tossed in his chips.

“Well, that’s going to be a problem…” chuckled Razor to Rat.

“I doubt this will end well for anyone here,” smirked Rat.

“Oh, please,” scoffed Razor. “I didn’t survive the Battle of Chisankyou just to die at a poker table from a temper tantrum of my student.”

“Wait, you were at Chisankyou?” asked Rat, stunned.

“More than that, kid,” smirked Razor. “I was younger than you were when you first showed up here back when I first ran away from my parents at Saigo Harbor to join the Kirin Resistance. Actually stayed with them for a few years. Learned their ways. Became one of their own.”

The Kirin nation had a very troubled history, to say the least. Living in near-complete isolation from the outside world for nearly two thousand years, the Kirin had created a feudalistic society of educated nobility, faithful peasants, and the honor-bound warriors known as the Yoruba. When the Wyvern Imperium broke the isolation, a brand new political power known as the Modernist Party had risen up from the ranks of educated peasants, swiftly executing the nobility. The Yoruba did not go quietly into this new regime. In response, they lead a bloody revolt that lasted for years, culminating in the Battle of Chisankyou.

“But none of the five hundred Yoruba survived that battle against the Modernist Defense Force…” murmured Rat in confusion.

“You’re right, none of them did,” muttered Razor. “I was Equestrian, so the Modernist Party had to turn me over to the Embassy, where my parents took me back in.”

“Is that where-” began Rat.

“Where I learned how to use all the weapons that I’ve got in my locker?” chuckled Razor. “Yeah, and then some. It’s what I’m teaching Patch, to an extent.”

“Wow…” breathed Rat. “Where do you go from an opening like that?”

“Took on several odd jobs, bouncing from mercenary company to mercenary company,” began Razor. “Eventually joined the Shadowbolts after a job in Zàijiāng went-”

“ALL IN!” howled Hoxton suddenly.

“BRING IT ON, CHICKEN-HUMPING NEEDLE-DICK!” bellowed Patch in Vietmanese, shoving her chips into the middle of the table to join Hoxton’s. .

“Oh for the love of-” groaned Razor.

Hawk glanced over at the only remaining player, flinching slightly. It was the last round of betting before the Reveal, and two Aces, a Jack, a Six, and a Five were showing. Tank’s grin had not changed since the Flop.

“Gonna get in on this crazy, Big Guy?” groaned Hawk.

“Heh, heh, heh…”

“Alright then,” sighed Hawk. “Players reveal your cards.”

“TWO PAIR! ACES AND JACKS WITH A SEVEN KICKER!” shouted Hoxton and Patch simultaneously, before staring in shock at each other.

“Well, if Tank has nothing, you’ll be splitting the pot,” chuckled Hawk. “So what have you got, Big Guy?”

“...Heh… Heh… Heh…” chuckled Tank, as he lowered a Six and an Ace to the table.

Patch and Hoxton stared blankly as Tank slowly pulled the pile of chips toward his end of the table. There was only silence for a moment as Patch shook in silence.

“YOU-” bellowed Patch, before being pulled from her chair.

“I warned you,” sighed Razor, restraining the screaming and flailing armorer as she kept trying to throw herself at Hoxton. “Hawk, add my earnings to the current wager I have. I don’t anticipate being back until long after you’ve finished.”

They watched as Razor carried Patch from the room as she howled Vietmanese curses at Hoxton. As the voices trailed off, Cloak cleared his throat.

“Well… That was a thing…” chuckled Cloak.

“So, next round?” asked Hawk.

“Deal ‘em, Hawk,” smiled Rat. “No place I’d rather be than here…”

Green Pastures, Dining Room, Equestria
50 Years After the Shadowbolt/Wonderbolt War

Cloak sighed as he rested his eyes for a moment as the story drew to a close.

“That was really your first date with Grandma?” asked Cold Snap.

“In all honesty?” sighed Cloak. “That was when I started counting the days. We had our ups and downs over the years, but that was the starting point, in my eyes.”

“I wish I could have met her…”

It was silent for only a moment before Cloak cleared his throat.

“Well, you best be getting some shut-eye there, ‘Snap,” nodded Cloak. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

“Alright,” yawned Cold Snap, embracing his grandfather. “Hey, Grandpa?”

“Yes, ‘Snap?”

“Do you think Grandma would be proud of me?” asked Cold Snap. “Do you think she’d like me?”

“...Yes, ‘Snap, I think so…” replied Cloak quietly. “She would have loved you very much…”

Cold Snap smiled. “Thanks, Grandpa,” replied Cold Snap. “Good night! Night Mrs. Do!”

Cloak sat back as he watched his grandson bolt up the stairs with youthful energy. Tears began to form in his eyes, even as a faint smile graced his face. Dagger stood up and moved behind her brother, embracing him gently

“I’m sorry, brother,” sighed Dagger. “I know it must be hard, bringing up all these old memories-”

“No, don’t worry about it, sis,” interrupted Cloak, wiping a tear from his eye. “It’s good… Remembering…”

They sat in silence for a while. Tensions rose. No one wanted to say what was on everyone’s minds at that moment. They lived through that time. They knew what was yet to come… Finally, Dagger broke the ice.

“He’s looking forward to the stories more and more,” mused Dagger.

“I know,” sighed Cloak. “They all are.”

“That worries me a bit, Old Timer,” interjected Daring. “I may not know a lot about you crazy mercs, but I do know enough about what happens next to know that something somewhere goes screwy.”

“We’re getting pretty close to that point, Cloak,” agreed Arclight. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to address-”

“Her, I know,” interrupted Cloak. “Nightshade…”

To Be Continued…
End of Arc 3