“Come on, you can do it. Just a few steps more and...you’re falling,” Forceps tells me with a sigh as I stumble and fall flat on my face. “Well, don’t worry about it too much,” He says in his usual bored tone. “Recovery takes time and not to mention your muscles need to gain strength again. Rehabilitation is always a difficult road.”

        The two of us are outside of Forceps’ house that is just a short distance outside of Saint Lunasburg. It is a simple, single story farmhouse and I think the farm here once grew potatoes or something. The cellar has a good stock of vodka, some of which Forceps used to sterilize my injuries and his equipment.

        I grumble as I lift my face out of the dirt. Once I’m sitting up, I give him a frustrated glare. “We’ve been at this for a week. At this rate, there is no way that I will walk properly again. Hell, my vision keeps fading in and out from the exertion,” I mutter. “I only got the one eye too, doc and the headaches still come and go.”

        Forceps is sitting on an old rocking chair on his porch as he watches me attempt to walk up and down the dirt road that leads towards town. Honestly, I think the old bastard likes watching me suffer. I’m using the fence that runs alongside the road as a thing to lean against as I do so.

        “All I’m hearing is excuses, Silent,” He replies. “I told you it would be tough, but you insisted on getting back into fighting shape. You won’t even tell me who you really are or where you came from. Normally, I wouldn’t let a stranger stay with me, but for a buck in your condition I made an exception. Right now you couldn’t even fight off this old geezer,” He chuckles.

        “Hardy har, har,” I growl. “Get your kicks in while you can, old man. Once I get back to normal, we’ll see who’s laughing then,” I tell him as I struggle to my hooves again, only to stumble and fall once more.

        “If you ever get back to normal,” Forceps says with a sly grin.

        “And whose fault is it I have to deal with rehabilitation?” I say as I turn to him again. “I mean really, what kind of doctor doesn’t stock things like hydra and buck?”

        Forceps rolls his eyes. “I keep telling you, I’m a retired doctor, I don’t do that anymore. You’re lucky I had a few Mex-X lying around and that I never threw out my medical tools. Those potions and bandages I used on you were my usual stock, you know, for survival?” He tells me, with a shake of his head. “A normal pony would have died from the injuries you had. Maybe some of that Earth Pony endurance. When I came across you, I was certain you would die. But you insisted and told me of a generous stash of caps you had nearby. Again, you’re lucky someone else didn’t steal that stash before I found it.”

        “Speaking of those caps, when I told you about them, I thought the, you know, saving me part would match the amount,” I say as I look at him flatly. “You used like, what, a few thousand caps worth of stuff to keep me alive? Reimburse me.”

        He scoffs. “Without my level of professionalism and skill anyone else who found you would have let you die. The extra caps cover the cost of saving your life, the cost of you living here, and the cost of your rehabilitation,” He tells me with a smirk.

        “Processional my ass. You’re just in it for the caps,” I shoot back at him. “Not that I can fault you for it, that’s how the Wasteland works. But that was a small fortune, I’m going to want some of it back.” I struggle back to my hooves and take a few more steps.

        “Who carries around a small fortune in caps?” Forceps counters. “That is just asking to be robbed. Should have put them in a bank, not that those are around anymore. Maybe take one over and use it for yourself?” He suggests.

        That gets a chuckle out of me. “Yea, I’ll just go and take one over. Maybe make it into a town and let the townsponies put their caps inside the vault. You know, make it nice and organized,” I tell him with a smile. “Hell, if you give me those caps that are burning a hole in your pocket, I’ll use those as a down payment to get it all set up, and you can be my bank’s very first customer.”

        Not that settling down is something I could ever see myself doing. Out in the dirt of the Wasteland is where I belong. I’ll die there before I die of old age in some town. It’s in my blood, fighting, that is.

        “Not gona happen,” Forceps replies. “But...maybe if you ever recover, I’ll consider it. For now, keep on trying to walk. Build up some muscle. Remember, no pain no gain.”

        “Yea, yea,” I mutter. “You know, you’re a real asshole sometimes.”

        He chuckles. “Comes with age.”

        Hey there. So, you might be wondering, am I going to keep telling you my story of recovery? That would be awfully boring. I’ll skip to the end of the whole rehabilitation thing, but first before my story goes any further, you need to know how I ended up here in the care of ex-doc Forceps.

        Let’s begin with my name, Silent Fury. The name Silent Fury has a bit of a history behind it, but that’s nothing I want to get into right now. However, outside of doc Forceps and a few others I am close with, no one knows me by that name. It is reserved for the select few that I trust or had the misfortune to meet in my younger days.

        What most of the Stalliongrad region knows me as, is the Angel of Death. Bounty hunter, caravan guard, scavenger, basically a jack of all trades when it comes to putting fear into raiders, slavers, and even the normal run of the mill creatures that overrun this area. I didn’t ask for the name, but it stuck. Most just call me Angel. Honestly, it is a bloated title that makes me seem a lot scarier than I actually am.

        With that name helped me earn my place in Stalliongrad and the surrounding towns. I’d take on any bounties, no matter how difficult they might be. When new ponies meet me, they usually stare at me in confusion. They expect some scary buck with a bad attitude and a shoot on sight mindset. In reality, I am an average looking buck who is polite to everyone he meets. A real standup citizen of Stalliongrad.

        The nickname Angel of Death actually originated from the raiders who escaped from me. As it turns out when things get heated, say in combat or when yelling and arguments breaks out, my personality gets a bit...darker. Some ponies tell me it is some multiple personality disorder thing, but it’s not. Both sides are me and both exist at the same time, it is just me deciding which one needs to have the wheel. This other side of me excels at killing and is what puts the death in Angel of Death.

        Of course, that name doesn’t matter anymore. Hard to be the Angel of Death when you can’t fight. From now on, I’m Silent Fury. But the name change isn’t going to stop me from getting revenge on the fucks that did this to me. I remember their faces, all six of them. Yes, just six ponies took down the Angel of Death. They caught me off guard, lured me into a trap.

        It all started when I accepted a bounty in Applevka…

        “Hey there Angel, how’s it going?” Shotglass asks me as I take a seat at the bar. He is a clever buck who seems to always be wearing a sly grin. The only time he lets his smile slip is when he gets serious.

        “Same as always,” I reply. “How’s business?” I ask as I glance around the bar. Around ten patrons spread about. Some alone, some in groups. The bar itself is is fairly simplistic, seven round tables with chairs all around. The actual bar area is set into the back, and I think the door behind it leads to the second story where Shotglass lives.

        “Oh, same old, same old,” He replies as he cleans a glass with his magic and scratches at his charcoal mane. “Shall we do away with the pleasantries and cut to the chase?” He asks, his grin widening slightly.

        I find myself grinning as well. There are only two reasons Shotglass grins that wide. The first is a profitable day. The second is when he thinks he finds a job that will get me killed. “Still not letting that whole Dash thing go?” I ask him.

        His grin shrinks back to normal. “Taking out my supplier was rude. That was a very profitable business avenue, and you ruined it,” He says with a sigh. Whenever he sighs, it really  bothers me, since he smiles all the while. It is creepy.

        “If you didn’t want them killed, you shouldn’t have given me the bounty to kill them. Whose fault is it really? But, you got a job for me, correct? One that you think will kill me?” I reply with a smirk of my own.

        We have an odd relationship. Shotglass is the type of buck who loves wealth. He’ll do anything to get more. When someone put out a bounty on his Dash supplier, he took the contract fee, thinking that no one would be able to pull it off. I crushed that dream of his and cut off his Dash business. Ever since, he has been finding extremely difficult jobs to throw at me. That’s his type of revenge. I’ll make him money by completing the jobs and if by chance I die, it is a win-win for him. I suppose you can call us...friends.

        “It is my policy to never forgive, especially when it comes to caps. But I do have a job for you. The client won’t disclose the details to me, so they want to meet you in person,” He informs me, floating out a scrap of paper on the bar between us. “The client is anonymous, a courier delivered this to me. It specifically asks for Stalliongrad’s Angel of Death,” He says while I look over the note myself. “As you can see, the job is to,” He clears his throat, “‘wipe out the raider scourge in the vicinity of the Stalliongrad Library.’ But anything past that is unknown.”

        I’ve heard about some up and coming band of raiders from that area. So far they haven’t done anything too major, but it seems like they are becoming a threat to someone. Extermination jobs aren’t new to me. ‘Wipe out x group of raiders, slavers, or creatures.’ Pretty straight forward as far as jobs go. “I’ll take it,” I tell him with a nod.

        His slightly larger grin reappears. “Excellent,” Shotglass says as he puts the scrap of paper back under the bar. “I take it you already memorized where you need to meet the client?” He asks.

        “A cafe two blocks south of the library, I got it,” I tell him. “I’ll be back once the job’s done,” I tell him as I get off the stool.

        Shotglass nods. “Come back as a corpse, or not at all,” He says happily. I know he is serious, but I can’t help but laugh as I start walking away.

        “Unless you make me a corpse yourself, I’ll come back alive,” I call back as I approach the door.

        I raise my hoof to open it when Shotglass calls out, “I consider doing just that on a daily basis! Happy hunting.” See, friends. And with that I make my way out of the bar and into the quiet street of Applevka. I stretch my legs and look around the town. Busy, but quiet. That’s why I like this town.

        In other towns, you get unruly travelers and townsfolk, or just noising ponies in general. But here, no one really talks unless they have to. Hell, inside the bar the other patrons all spoke in near whispers. You see, the security in this town is notorious for having troublemakers die in custody. From small time drunken brawls to thieves and killers. If you start trouble here, you die.

The mare in charge, Elixir, is a real ballbuster and I personally make it a point to avoid her. And it isn’t just because I got her younger sister, Tonic, pregnant and then pushed her down some stairs to get rid of the baby. No, Elixir just has a thing for ruining the fun of others. Her and her cronies rule Applevka with an iron hoof. But, they also keep the town safe, more so than other towns in the Stalliongrad region.

Off to my right, I hear someone click their tongue. “Damn it Angel, you know you aren’t allowed in town,” a mare calls out. I turn and find two security mares walking towards me. The few ponies that are in the streets turn to look over at the sudden raise in volume, but upon seeing the two mares they quickly go about their business.

I greet the pair with a broad grin. “Ebony! Ivory! We meet again! I hope that the two of you are doing well?” I say as the step up in front of me. Before you get the wrong idea, I’ve not slept with either of them. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind. Both of them are absolutely adorable. They are actually some of the cooler guards under Elixir’s command.

Ivory, the mare who called out to me first, smirks slightly. As her name implies, her ivory coat is flawlessly beautiful. It is a shame she is wearing all that barding. “We’re doing better than you, that’s for sure,” She tells me. “So, how did you get in this time? Bribe the gate guards or sneak in?” She asks.

I can’t help but let out a happy chuckle. “Now, now. I can’t tell you that. Either the guards would be punished or my way in would be blocked. It wouldn’t be fun for anyone,” I explain. “But enough about me. Are you two fine ladies out for a stroll or are you here for me specifically?” I ask.

        Ebony rolls her eyes. Now might be a good time to point out that Ebony and Ivory are twin sisters. Like her sister, Ebony is named after the color of her coat. I personally think the fact that their manes match their sister’s coat color perfectly, is a very nice touch. “You wish we were here for you,” Ebony counters. “We are on patrol. You know, working?”

        On a side note, I recently found out about this symbol of balance called a yin-yang. Some black and white circle thing. Part of some pre-war belief system or something. Anyway, it is a goal of mine to get these two sisters to recreate this symbol.

        I make an offended gasp and bring a hoof dramatically to my chest. “Why, I am hurt! You think that I just slack off? I’ll have you know I just accepted a job,” I tell her. “Sometimes it feels like all I do is work.”

        “Maybe you should work more,” Ebony says, pressing her attack. She is the more aggressive of the two, and the one I need to really work on to get my fantasy to come true.

        “But Miss Ebony! If I work any more, I won’t have any time to spend with you lovely sisters,” I say with a smile. “I’ll be honest though, Ebony, if you acted a little bit nicer you would be just as beautiful as your sister.” Ivory immediately blushes.

        Which brings me to another reason I love this town. Because of the oppressive mood, the ponies around here don’t flirt much. This lets me catch a lot of mares off guard since they don’t usually get hit on and complimented a bunch. Nothing is cuter than a blushing mare. I like to toss out compliments, even if I have no intention of sleeping with them. It always brightens their day and brings a smile to my face.

        Ebony just scoffs though. “What’s wrong, can’t handle a mare with some bite?” She says with a scowl. On the contrary, actually. I love them. A mare that can handle herself is incredibly sexy. Even more so when that tough mare shows you her sensitive side. I swear it makes my heart skip a beat every time. But…

        “What can I say, Ebony,” I say with a shrug, “you’re as feisty as you are lovely. Any buck who isn’t a little wary of you is just asking for trouble.” Ebony blushes a little at that, causing me to grin a little wider.

        Ivory interjects this time. “You should really get out of town before someone else finds you,” She tells me, still blushing slightly.

        I chuckle and nod in agreement. “Yes, you are probably right. I feel like you two are the only ones who get me in this town,” I say with a sigh. “Well then, ladies, I will be on my way. But, when I get back from this job, let’s have some drinks, shall we? I’m buyin’,” I suggest.

        Ebony smiles cunningly. “If you’re buying, sure. Don’t expect us to hold back though,” She says maliciously.

        “Trust me, I’d be offended if you did,” I say as I start to walk away. “I’ll tell you all about the job once I’m done too, so look forward to the story!” I call over my shoulder. The two of them smile slightly and shake their heads as I continue walking. I keep walking until I hear them start to walk as well, and then I stop and turn back. My eyes are drawn to their flanks as they walk side by side.

        I chuckle to myself and then start to hum a tune as I continue on my way.

        ‘But Silent! I thought this was your explanation of what happened to you? Why are you focusing on your escapades trying to get mares into bed?’ Because it is important, damn it. I had a fucking hero’s welcome waiting for me when I got done with this job! I was going to take Ebony and Ivory to bed! And those bastards ruined it all! Do you think those two lovely gals are going to give an injured as fuck buck like me the time of day now? Not to mention the fact that way more time is passing by than I anticipated. They probably think I am dead or forgot about them.

        I’m not even sure how I look right now, Forceps won’t let me see a mirror yet. Says I am still in the healing process and that things will change. But, if my legs and back are any indication, I can’t be a pretty sight. I feel itchy all over, like something is crawling under my skin. All of this is those bastards fault. They didn’t have the decency to fight me fairly, they had to lay a trap, even six to one.

        I will track each one of them down and and kill them, even if it is the last thing I do. But I have questions that need answers. Some things that went down didn’t sit right with me. Those six couldn’t have pulled this off alone, someone was behind it.

        Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s fast forward a bit. To when I was just a few blocks away from the cafe I was to meet my client at.

        Stalliongrad was once a bastion of industry, back during the war. Many battles were fought for control over it. But, all that is ancient history. The people who once lived here make up those in the Stalliongrad region’s Wasteland today. This is why the region boasts more griffins and buffalo than most other parts of the Wasteland. Griffin mercs are a common occurrence and there are a few small buffalo settlements.

        The city itself is fairly intact, but a husk of what it once was. Having two balefire bombs impact outside the city will do that though. It can be divided into multiple different sections, depending upon what particular raider group is controlling a given area on a given day. It also boasts one of the larger towns in the Stalliongrad Region, simply called Stalliongrad. Everything else is the Stalliongrad Ruins.

        I know this city and its ruins like the back of my hoof. I was born here after all, and raised for a few years as well. My work takes me here regularly too. It was a trivial task to make my way towards the library and then veer down a side street to make my way to the cafe.

        I think it was called Pony Joe’s, once upon a time. Some cafe chain that had places all across Equestria. Of course, in all the time that has gone by a few letters have fallen off the storefront. The only large letters that remain over the entrance spell out ‘Poe’s’. It is a rather plain location, doesn’t stand out too much. Pretty sure it has been picked over quite a bit too, so it is a good place for a meet up.

        The front door is non-existant so I just walk on through into the shop. Dead ahead is a counter with a register on it and behind that is an arrangement of large machines that once produced coffee, one would assume. There are even a few stacks of coffee cups on the counters. Understandable, given how common they are.

        Papers, cups, and the usual grime is covering the floor. Nothing special in the Wasteland. A few scattered tables and chairs are between me and the counter, some in better conditions than other. Looking around the room, there are some benches against the walls that clearly show their age. Off to the right there is a door leading to the back of the store. The ‘Employees Only’ sign is hanging by a single screw from the door.

        A small stream of water is trickling down through the ceiling, probably from the rain we got last night. The water is falling onto a table and is then cascading down to the floor, where it begins pooling in the far corner. It is a steady stream that fills the cafe with the sound of it hitting the table and floor. A constant trickling sound.

        My client, however, is nowhere to be seen. In the front, anyhow. “Anyone here?” I call out. “I’m the Angel and I’m looking for my client.” I start walking towards the door to the back when I hear movement from behind the counter. I turn and ready my battle saddle.

        After some more rustling, a tired looking buck pops up from behind the counter. I stares ahead at the cafe’s doorway and blinks a few times. He lets out a yawn and then slowly turns towards me. “Ahhhh, if it isn’t the Angel of Death,” The buck says, yawning once more. “I was waiting for you.”

        “You’re my client then?” I ask as I keep my guns leveled on him. He is a unicorn, so I should be mindful of his magic.

        He raises a hoof to rub at one of his eyes. “Yea, something like that…” He grumbles with another yawn. “Sorry, as you can see, I just woke up,” He tells me as he starts stretching. “I’m rather nocturnal, so this is fairly early to me.”

        “It has to be at least five in the afternoon,” I tell him. He smiles tiredly and rubs his dirty grey mane.

        “Exactly. I usually wake up around eight,” He replies. “I’m not a huge fan of how bright it is during the day.”

        “It isn’t like the sun is shining down on us or anything. It is always cloudy,” I counter. He doesn’t seem like a threat. I move a little closer to the counter and peek over. Nothing, no weapons or supplies. He came here with nothing? Either he is confident or stupid. Maybe both.

        “That’s true, but I like the darkness. I always have to squint when I go outside during the day. Sensitive eyes, you know,” He says with a shrug.

        “I see, that must be rough,” I mutter. “So, what’s the job, specifically?” I ask, trying to move things along.

        “Ah, right, the job. Let’s begin with my name,” He says as he leans on the counter. “My name is Torpid. Fitting, I know. And you are the Angel of Death, correct?” He asks with a tilt of his head. His expression looks bored.

        “Torpid, huh? Yeah, I am the Angel,” I tell him.

        “The same one who takes on difficult bounties and kills raiders, slavers, and horrors without mercy?” He questions.

        I nod. “The same,” I say simply, with a slight smile.

        He looks at me flatly as he says, “You are nothing like I imagined.” There it is, the typical response. “I was expecting someone bigger, scarier, and definitely someone less polite,” Torpid tells me honestly.

        “I get that a lot. But, don’t worry. I’ll get any job you want done,” I assure him.

        Torpid stares at me for a few moments and then says, “Okay then. If you say so. Just want to make sure you aren’t an imposter. This job could get you killed, ya know.” He sluggishly climbs over the counter, lacking any grace at all. “Follow me to the rear of the store. I got something back there you need to see before I explain the job further,” Torpid tells me as he starts walking towards the door.

        His steps are heavy, but sluggish and he is swaying quite a bit. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “Why not just tell me about the job?” I ask him as I start to follow.

        “You wouldn’t believe what I’m about to tell you without seeing this,” He replies as he pushes open the door and makes his way inside.

        “Honestly, I don’t really care,” I tell him as I follow him through the door. “As long as you’ll pay me, I’ll do-” But I am cut off as a metal bat swings from the left of the doorway and catches me in the forehead. The world around me flashes and then fades to black.

        I wake up with a groan and a pulsing headache. “Finally awake, huh, Angel?” A gravely voice says tauntingly. I blink a few times and look around, my gaze falls on a red buck in front of me. A moment later, a hoof hits me across my muzzle.

        Shaking my head and moving my jaw a bit I mutter, “Well, look at all of you familiar fucking faces.” I turn to the pink mare who just hit me. “Nice right hook, Petunia. You still hit like a bitch though,” I tell her with a smirk. She hits me again, causing my lip to start bleeding. I can’t help but chuckle.

        It seems while I was out, I was stripped down and tied to a chair with some pretty heavy duty ropes. I think I also feel some chains biting into my flesh too.

        “Golly gee, who’d have thunk that the five of you would be in the same room,” I laugh. “What’s the occasion? Going to put on a show for me and fight each other to the death?” Petunia raises her hoof to hit me again, but this time another buck catches her leg just before she hits me. “Aww, Smoker, my hero. Saving me from that crazy bitch...I didn’t know you-” He headbutts me. When he pulls back, I break out into laughter.

        “We are here to kill you, Angel,” Smoker tells me as he stares daggers at me. “We are tired of you interrupting our operations.”

        I smirk. “Oh, so sorry I am disrupting your stampede manufacturing, Smoker. And your slave trade, Petunia. Can’t forget about your forced prostitution rings either, Bumper,” I sneer at each of them in turn, ending my gaze on the red buck, Bumper. “What about you two? Codex? Slag? You’re just raiders. Am I disrupting your raiding?” I ask.

        “After today, we won’t just be raiders,” Slag says. He is an orange buck with a bad attitude. Pretty sure he is the one who hit me with that metal bat. His gang loves their shiny metal tools.

        Codex jabs him in the ribs. “Oh shut up,” She tells him. “Let’s just deal with Angel and get out of here. This place is disgusting,” Codex says as she makes a face. Unlike Petunia who doesn’t mind getting her hooves dirty, Codex is usually hooves off. She’s got a thing about nice clean things and loves technology. Probably wishes she was born a Steel Ranger.

        “You’re right,” Slag mutters, and then swings his bat down on my rear left leg. He does so with enough force and at just the right angle to completely break the bone. I scream out in pain from the initial hit, but grit my teeth and stop myself. Then I start to laugh.

        “Oh that’s rich! The six of you fucking cowards are going to kill me?” I laugh at them and then fix my eyes on Torpid. “What about you, Torpid? You’re a new face. Is this lot using you or are you here for some revenge? If they are just using you, tell me now. I won’t have to kill you when I get free,” I tell him as I grin widely.

        Torpid yawns before answering me flatly. “I’m in it for me. You took out my predecessor and I need to make sure you won’t do the same to me,” He says, ending his sentence with a yawn. “You see, I’m going into the dash production business.”

        I chuckle at his response. “Oh, well that makes sense then!” I say, throwing my head back with laughter. “I am going to kill you all! Each and every one of you! Then, I am going to go kill off the rest of your respective gangs!” I cackle wildly.

        “This is more like what I expected the Angel of Death to be like,” Torpid says with a slow nod. Meanwhile, Petunia hits me right in the stomach with a right hook, turning my laughter into choking gasps.

        Sucking in a few lungfuls of air, I start rocking the chair. “I’m going to get out of here and I’m going to kill you all! And once I am done, Codex, Petunia, I am going to skull fuck the both of you!” I shout madly as Bumper puts a hoof on the chair to stop me from moving it.

        Then they start laying into me, with the exception of Codex and Torpid who are just watching. After a few minutes, they have worked me over pretty good. Slag’s bat has done the most damage, but the others didn’t pull any punches. Once there is a break in their assault, I turn to the side and spit out some blood.

        I start to smile weakly. “The leaders of some of the strongest gangs around, and this is the best you can do?” I let a few laughs escape. “I guess it is my turn now, huh?” I lick my lips and throw myself backwards. It is enough of a push to jerk the chair and send it, along with me, falling to the ground. Right before it hits the ground, I pull against the ropes to put some strain on the old chair. When it hits the ground, the chair breaks.

        “Shit, grab him!” Petunia calls out, but I waste no time in scrambling to get my legs out of the ropes and chains. I put some distance between myself and the six of them, barely able to stand on my three working legs.

        “That’s too bad,” Torpid mutters. “I wanted to enjoy the show a little more.” He raises a pistol in his magic and shoots me in the chest with it. I ignore it and charge at him, but Bumper steps in the way. I jump and tackle him to the ground and plant a few punches in his face. Torpid shoots me again, so I leap off of Bumper and refocus on him.

        I tackle him to the ground as well as while Codex says, “I hate to agree with the Angel here, but is this really the best you all can do? Bash his skull in or something, you primitive.” Torpid is rather calm about me tackling him, just glancing up at me flatly. As I’m about to start punching him, Petunia tackles me off of him. With the roles reversed, she is now on top of me and pulls back her hoof to strike me.

        But I meet her right hoof with my left and then follow that up with my own right, catching her in the muzzle and sending her sprawling off of me. Slag is the next to go after me, bringing his bat down on my chest. I think I feel a few ribs crack from the impact. I counter by swinging one of my legs under his and knocking him down.

        “I don’t see you doing anything, Codex,” Smoker says before he unleashes a burst of flames at me with his flamers. I roll onto my hooves as the flames burn my hide and cascade across the walls, ceiling, and floor. I manage to keep just ahead of the flames until I get behind Codex. Smoker cuts off his flames and they fall short of burning her.

        “At least I’m not almost burning friendlies,” Codex counters as she starts walking away from me.

        Smoker scoffs. “Please, I am as precise as a sniper when it comes to controlling these babies,” He tells her. Meanwhile, Bumper and Petunia are back up on their hooves and looking to inflict some damage. Bumper has a pistol of his own now and Petunia has a power hoof on her right hoof. Petunia charges at me while Bumper takes a few shots, two of which just nick my shoulder.

        Petunia pulls back her hoof to hit me, but I dodge to the side just as her hoof flies past my head. I land wrong on my broken leg and end up in a heap on the ground. Petunia doesn’t waste the opportunity and climbs on top of them, then proceeds to pound away at me with her power hoof. After the third punch, I manage to shove her off of me. She rolls easily back onto her hooves. I on the other hand, barely manage to stand up before Bumper takes another shot at me.

        His bullet catches me in the left eye and exits through the side of my head. If I wouldn’t have had my head turned the way I did, that shot would have went straight to the brain. As it stands, it is enough to drop me back to the floor. I collapse into a heap as the sound of the flames eating away at the building roars louder. One of them whistles. “This place is burning pretty nicely. I don’t think it will be long until...Oh, it’s starting,” Smoker says with a chuckle.

        The sound of the building groaning drowns out everything else as I follow Smoker’s gaze up to the ceiling. It is engulfed in flames and I see a large wooden support being consumed. A loud crack echoes throughout the cafe as it falls, right on top of me. It pins me to the ground and despite my struggles I can’t shift it off me.

        The beam is still burning and starts to scorch my flesh. “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt,” Smoker laughs. “We should probably get out of here and let the fire do its job. Don’t want it to get us, you know. The whole place will bury him, no way he is getting out of this alive,” He says.

        “No complaints on my end,” Codex says, already walking towards the store’s back door. The rest of them seem to be in agreement as more of the ceiling starts falling.

        “Nice knowin’ ya, Angel,” Bumper calls out as he makes his leave. “We’ll be sure to give the boss your regards.” He is the last one out, and moments after he leaves part of the ceiling collapses in front of the door.

        “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!” I yell out as the flames continue to consume the building. More rubble cascades around me as smoke starts to fill the room. A few minutes passes and it isn’t long before I can barely breathe. “Torpid... Bumper... Petunia... Smoker... Codex... Slag... I’ll kill you all…” I mutter.

        Of course, that is easier said than done. Hard to kill anyone when you are trapped in a burning building. Probably asking yourself right about now, ‘Did Forceps pull you out of a burning building? He’s an old buck!’. And you are right. That old geezer didn’t brave a raging inferno to save me. Think back a ways and you might be able to figure out what happened. I’ll give you a moment.

        No ideas? Okay, here it is. Recall the water trickling down from the ceiling in the front of the store. Now, the rain the night before was heavy. Real crazy. Enough to drown you if you were laying down face first. And as it so happens, the roof of Poe’s is like a giant tank. Honestly, whoever thought to make the roof without gutters is pretty stupid, in my opinion. Granted, it did save my life.

        Well, when the ceiling started to come down, it also let down the water that was stored up there. It was as though a lake suddenly fell upon the fire that engulfed the backroom of Poe’s. The flames were doused and nothing was left of them. Only ash and charred building materials remained.

        Of course, it didn’t help me out too much, considering the large support beam was still pinning me to the floor. I was covered in burns, but at least the fires stopped my bleeding. Still hurt like a son of a bitch though. It wasn’t a good time, I’ll tell you that much. And it was a good two days before Forceps came along and finally pulled me out. Like you heard earlier, I did have to bribe him with the promise of caps, but he finally got me out of there and took me to his home.

        Once there, he pulled the bullets out of my body, properly set my leg, and did what he could about my burns. But of course the geezer lacked most medical amenities to do it properly, thus the whole rehabilitation thing. And there you have it! The short tale of how I came to be learning how to walk all over again.

        And as I said before, the whole thing didn’t sit right with me. Bumper’s last words to me before he left, his mention of a ‘boss’, specifically. The fact the six of them, who would normally be trying to kill each other, suddenly decided to work together. But, for all intents and purposes, the Angel of Death is dead now. Silent Fury remains, and I am pissed.

        Which brings me back to my name, the thing we were discussing before I started the story about the Angel of Death’s downfall. I am Silent Fury. You’ve probably noticed through that story just how much my personality shifts when things get aggressive. I go from having a nice conversation with a buck to talking about skull fucking some mares. All the while, my inner monologue is a happy balance between the two.

        Thus my name, Silent Fury. Silent takes charge and everything is nice and polite until Fury takes the wheel and everything goes batshit crazy. What actually goes on in my head, however, is a happy balance between the two. I suppose you’d call what goes on in my head how ponies usually act. But I personally find that using the two extremes when they are needed a little more beneficial.

        Now that you know all this, it is time to close the book on the Angel of Death and open up the story of Silent Fury. And do you know what I am going to do? I am going to find those six and ask them who their boss is. Right before I kill them, and the rest of their gangs. Then, whoever their boss is, is going to get their teeth kicked in, their eyes gouged out, and finally I’ll crush their windpipe. And maybe, just maybe, I will get Ebony and Ivory into bed. A buck can dream, right?

        Torpid, Bumper, Petunia, Smoker, Codex, and Slag. These six ponies are going to die, and I’m going to be the one to kill them.