Far beneath the Pentagon in the secure area set aside for Equestrian research, Gwen had finally lost her temper.

"Are you a fucking idiot?" she screamed at the liaison for Homeland Security who had interrupted her already heated discussion with the laboratory director to inform her of Greg's broadcast threat. "Do you think for one second that he just told us his real plans? There's no way in hell he'd give us that much advance notice of—"

The cowering man was saved by the sudden appearance of a Marine lieutenant. "Captain Sundstrom, you're needed topside ASAP. I'm to take you to an emergency meeting of the Joint Chiefs."

The lieutenant thought he heard her mutter something like "more idiots," but she made a curt gesture for him to lead the way and said nothing else.

After the elevator doors had closed behind her and the lieutenant, the HS liaison turned to the lab director and said, "God, what a... a..."

The director shook his head and said, "You won't come up with anything that hasn't been said a hundred times already. Sometimes that woman scares me more than the things we've got locked up back there." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the Equestrian containment cells that hummed and crackled as the power needed to restrain their occupants was pumped through the titanium mesh over the bars.

The HS liaison pointed at the black and yellow warning stripe labeled DANGER AREA that ran along the front of the cells about six feet away from the bars. "Maybe they ought to paint something like that around her!"

It was the last time either of them ever laughed.

Things began to unfold exactly as Greg had expected.

People immediately did the last thing that would be of any help: they panicked. The government responded with all the efficiency and effectiveness it had shown during such disasters as the hurricanes Katrina and Victor, which meant that the DC police and firefighters were pretty much on their own, trying to guide and keep peaceful the desperate flood of people all attempting to flee the district at once.

In contrast, the evacuation of the President, Senate and Congress began very smoothly. Unsurprisingly, a detailed plan for the hurried evacuation of the political leadership had been in place since the Cold War.

In the station of the private railway that ran beneath the Capitol Building, legislators and hand-picked members of their contingents lined up in an orderly, unhurried way, boarding the trains as they rolled up to the platform, one after the other. Nobody noticed that the trains didn't look exactly like the ones that usually ran on the line.

Marine One, the huge helicopter that was always at the President's disposal, touched down on the South Lawn of the White House. The President, his family, and a few members of his cabinet, surrounded by Secret Service guards, crossed the lawn and boarded the aircraft. The helicopter took off smoothly and turned onto a heading for Andrews Air Force Base. The first inkling that anyone had that something had gone wrong was when Marine One suddenly disappeared in a bright flash of light and a completely underwhelming pop.

"Two down and one to go," Greg said as he watched the Presidential aircraft vanish from where he stood on the roof of the Pentagon. He noted the flights of pegasi and griffons that would provide air cover for his current operation rising into the air across the Potomac and then lowered his binoculars and touched a button on his headset and began to speak. "Are the diamond dogs in position? Good. Go ahead. Make sure the lower floors are isolated and the roof—"

He didn't get a chance to finish. A section of the roof about 50 feet from him blasted upward, creating a swirling cloud of smoke and debris.

"Never mind," he sighed, "I'll take care of the roof."

Luna crouched, her wings lifting in anticipation as Greg unclipped his control device from his belt, unhappy at the thought of taking out soldiers who were only doing their job. But since their job was to protect the bastards who had waged a senseless and brutal war against him, it couldn't be helped. But what was revealed as the smoke and dust blew away wasn't soldiers... not in the strictest sense, anyway.

They were ponies. And what appeared to be children.

They were all in brightly colored uniform jumpsuits and helmets. Greg just stared for a moment, caught completely flat-footed. Then he saw the figure standing behind the kids and ponies The figure wore the same sort of uniform as the rest but was taller and more obviously female.

Gwen flipped up the visor of her helmet and smiled a sweet, poisonous smile at him. "Hello Greg. You're a bit ahead of schedule, aren't you? But you didn't fool me." She wasn't about to tell him that she had had no idea that he'd show up there in person and that she had only been ordered to use her Equestrian troops guard the building by the Joint Chiefs. She shrugged casually and said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "This is my unit... the Pony Defense Force. We're here to kick the ever-loving shit out of you and your broken-down nag."

Greg had a hard time suppressing outright laughter. "PDF? Really? What happened to the Guardians of Harmony? Maybe a focus group would have helped with the acronym selection. And who did you hire to design those uniforms, Hasbro?"

Gwen didn't bother replying to him, but turned to one of the young girls instead. "Sergeant Melissa, Alicorn Attack Formation, now!"

The passengers aboard the capitol subway train were astounded when they emerged from the darkness of familiar tunnels to roll through a verdant field of tall grass and wildflowers. Some of them felt a sudden nausea and one or two slumped to the floor of the train, unconscious, but most were unaware of how strange the transition really was.

After less than a minute, the train slid to a smooth stop in front of a rustic but beautifully-designed train station and the doors slid open. At first, nobody wanted to exit into this beautiful but strange new land. An earth pony in something like a conductor’s uniform walked along the cars saying, "Move on out, now! We gotta go back for another load."

The speech didn't convince them at first. Then several unicorn ponies began lifting people bodily out of the train in their magic, saying, "You're messin' up our schedule! Go on! Git!"

They got.

Beyond the station was a large, beautiful village of half-timbered houses with straw thatched roofs climbing up the shoulder of a tall, green hill. A few figures moved here and there in its streets... figures that weren't human. In the large open area before the village was a crowd of people who had come through before the newest arrivals, and in the middle of the crowd was a huge military helicopter bearing the seal of the President of the United States. It's rotors were missing, but it seemed otherwise undamaged.

A senator stepped forward and called out to the people around the aircraft. "Does anybody know what the hell's going on here?"

"When the guards told us the roof access doors had been fused, and all the cameras up here had gone dark, I knew it had to be you," Gwen said as her team spread out across the rooftop. "Fortunately, some of our members carry their own built-in blasting equipment... which we are now going to use on you!"

Greg shook off his astonished paralysis and actually grinned at Gwen. "I'm actually glad to see you, because I've wanted to meet these ponies for a long, long time." He made a general gesture with his left hand, indicating the line of enemies facing him.

He squeezed the bonus selector button on his control device and the pulse of energy that shot into his partner made her fur ripple and spark. The unicorns of the Pony Defense Force lit their horns, but before they could get off any spells, Greg had pressed the level-up button and there was a brilliant blast of light centered on Luna.

When the light died down the Dark Goddess stood on the rooftop in a full suit of shining silver armor. Her fur was jet black and thousands of tiny stars twinkled within it. Her mane and tail were the shifting shapes and colors of deep space nebulae. The irises of her eyes were frozen supernovae shock waves. She was wreathed by an aura of immense power that was tangible even to the magically blind humans.

The ponies facing her only hesitated a second. Then the girl, who was evidently a sergeant, called out, “Pegasi, cover and take shots of opportunity. Unicorns, pin her down with magic and let the earth ponies stomp on her!”

Greg ducked behind a giant air-conditioning unit for cover as the Dark Goddess repelled the first volley of magic and the first charge of the earth ponies with a shield that briefly flared into existence.

They countered by spreading out and moving to surround her.

It was obvious to Greg that they were very experienced in battle. Soft exchanges like their first attack were fairly safe for them and a few more exchanges of the same type would trigger their own power-up states.

"Hey guys," he called out to them. "Has the military really got you so brainwashed? You may not like me a whole lot, but are you really going to go up against Equestrian royalty? Princess of the Night and all that?" He paused. "Guys?"

The rooftop blazed with colorful fire and the cries of battle.

"Huh. I guess they are," he said to himself. Then he called out loudly again. "Don't hurt them, Luna! They're just dumb kids."

A blast of sizzling unicorn magic hit the corner of the air-conditioner and turned it into molten slag.

"Okay," Greg shouted. "Dumb but dangerous! Try not to hurt them too much!"

Far below the fighting, the lights in the Equestrian containment area flickered briefly. "Don't worry," the director hastened to reassure the HS liaison, "We've got two redundant instant-on backup generators down here. Even if the main power fails, we'll be fine."

Behind him there was a crash and a section of the floor fell in. Rough hand-like paws lifted a pretty little pink unicorn into the room with the two men. "Generators?" the unicorn asked in a soft, melodic voice. Her horn flared and several rooms away there was the sound of crumpling metal. "And if something happened to your generators?" she asked, almost pleasantly.

The director spun around and gaped at the pony, but before he could say anything, the room was plunged into darkness.

The hum of the electrified cells fell silent.

The last thing the two men heard was the creak and snap of metal bars and many sets of heavy hooves and claws rushing toward them.

In the broad meadow across the train tracks from the village station, a spire of crystalline rock surged up through the earth. The crowd of people turned as one, most wondering if the bizarre structure presaged something dangerous. So far, none of them had worked up the nerve to enter the village and encounter the ponies that peered curiously out at them.

A fissure split the spire and widened into a gap large enough for a man to pass through... which was convenient because that was exactly what began to happen: men started passing through. Men in uniform. Angry, confused men in uniform. Some of them staggered as they made the transition to digital form and a few passed out, as had happened on the trains, but most simply marched through and began shouting angry questions at the people across the tracks.

General Greenwaldt said nothing. When the ponies had forced them all through the glowing mirror portals that had appeared inside the Pentagon, he had a much better idea about what was going on than anyone else in the crowd. He marched past Marine One, merely glancing at the huddled knot of men around the First Family and continued on to the gates of the village. There was a crude painted banner hung from the gate posts that read: Welcome Huma. On the post to the right were the final two letters in a different colored paint: ns!

The pony standing, smiling at the gate was fairly innocuous-looking but Greenwaldt knew better than anyone that the way they looked was deceptive. "You're a unicorn, aren't you?" he asked, trying not to sound hostile.

"Not quite," the purple creature chirped happily and ruffled the wings that the general had overlooked, "I'm an alicorn, and my name is Twilight Sparkle. Welcome to Terminus Village!"

Terminus, thought the general sourly, I don't like the sound of that. Aloud, he said, "Have you been given any orders?"

"Orders?" She chuckled pleasantly. "Oh, nothing so formal as that! Greg has asked me, and all of the ponies here, to welcome the new arrivals, attend to their needs, and make them feel comfortable in their new home."

"New... home?" The general grunted in surprise.

"Why, yes!" The little pony hesitated and then added, "Oh, not just the village... this whole world is your new home. It's pretty large... it ought to be room enough for all of you even if you like to spread out. But right now, you should all come to the village square. Pinkie Pie has a welcome party prepared for you and she's really gone all-out on it!"

"What if we don't want to stay?"

"Well..." The pony cocked her head to one side, carefully considering the general's question. "Then, you will probably be unhappy." She straightened her head and her eyes took on a hard glint that the general didn't care for at all. "Because you are going to stay. You're going to stay here forever."

Greg surveyed the disorganized ponies with satisfaction. They weren't quite beaten, but they were being steadily driven back by the Dark Goddess’s relentless attacks. It won't be long, now, he thought.

"Hey, Gwen," he called out, "Are you sure you don't want to surrender? If you ask me really nicely, I might even..." he looked around, suddenly realizing that in the confusion of battle, he had lost track of the woman. He spun and ducked instinctively and there, behind him was Gwen, no more than thirty feet away.

"Nice try," he growled at her.

She kept coming.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Are you looking for a personal rematch?" he asked as he dropped into a fighting crouch. "Because I'd just love to—"

When she was just outside of his reach, Gwen made a flicking motion with her right arm and a small pistol appeared in her hand as if by magic. In the space of two heartbeats, she shot Greg twice in the center of his chest and once in the head.

Author's Notes:

Thanks again to my unutterably swell prereaders and editors WrittenWord333, Jordanis, and Fana Farouche!