A flash of lightning fills my vision as we emerge from the portal, and the cockpit's main window is suddenly pelted by heavy rain. Wind buffets and shakes the shuttle, the sudden, abrupt movement causing me to stumble and my stomach to heave.

“We’re clear,” Green Wing announces.

Onyx carefully scans the readouts on the panel in front of him, looking for any anomalies. Satisfied that the other ships are safely through the portal, he turns to the cockpit. “Take us to the target.” Then, into his radio, “All craft, stay low and run silent. No lights.”

All the lights in the cabin go out, save for the dim, green glow from the control panel’s backlit buttons.

“Chrysalis. What’s the layout of this facility?” Onyx flatly asks.

“There are three levels, all in the chambers beneath the pyramid,” Chrysalis says, “The top level is for administration, the second is for research, and the third are where prisoners are stored.”

“What defenses can we expect?”

“There are at least a hundred heavily armed soldiers stationed around the complex at all times, security checkpoints at every major entrance and exit, and automated turrets in the roof along every corridor. Even if you somehow got past all that, there is only one elevator between each level, each controlled by two keycards and monitored by guards. Less opportunities for prisoners to escape, should they break free.”

Onyx contemplates Chrysalis’ information with a frown. Is he having second doubts about this? I would; Even with all the forces and firepower at our disposal, those are formidable defenses. But Onyx’s probably dealt with worse; he shows no sign of wanting to abort the mission.

“Does the system still work if power is cut?”

Chrysalis shakes her head. “Getting to the generators is a lost cause. They’re located on the bottom most level at the far east corner. The doors are deadlocked; that means nothing can get through without the master keycard.”

“Then we’ll take the control room first and shut them down from there. If that fails, we’ll use magic to force them open. Green Wing! What’s our ETA?”

Green Wing checks the digital clock on her console. “About an hour.”

“Good. Keep us on course.”

Thunder rumbles outside as we ride into the storm.

For the next fifty minutes, we continue onwards. As if speaking too loudly would alert the compound to our presence, Onyx keeps his voice barely above a murmur as he coordinates a plan of attack with the other ships. The rest of us are left to our thoughts. I keep myself occupied by watching the jungle passing by below us, lit by the occasional bolt of lightning and the dim glow from the cloud-covered moon.

“You’re taking this better than I thought.”

I glance over my shoulder to Chrysalis. “What do you mean?”

“You’re an elderly pony heading into an assault on a fortified base. If you have any fear, you hide it well.”

“Oh, I’m afraid,” I admit. “I’m afraid that we won’t find Beakbreaker and the others.”

Chrysalis snorts derisively and grins to herself. “You are not frightened of being captured? Of being turned into a helpless drone?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Then you are a poor, deluded fool.”

One of Chrysalis’ guards raises her spear, but I hold out a hoof to stop the mare. The queen’s taunts mean nothing to me.

“And what of the rest of us?" Chrysalis asks. "What of the fools who volunteered to come along on this mission? Are you not afraid for them? For me?”

“Of course I am. But I’m more afraid of what will happen if we all fail. If just one of us reaches Celestia, she will undo the damage Iron Hoof has wrought. She will free everyone who’s been turned into a cyborg.”

Chrysalis chuckles. “And what then, Silverspeak? Say you’re the one to free your beloved princess. Do you think everyone will run to you with open arms, praising your name for freeing them?” She leans forward with a condescending grin. “How many do you think joined Iron Hoof’s cause because of your words? All those speeches you gave in his name? And what about the families you tore apart? How many will want vengeance for the lives you’ve destroyed?”

Again, the guard raises her spear, and this time I don’t stop her. Chrysalis is right. As much as it pains me to think about it, all the cyborgs, prisoners, and soldiers who I convinced to give up everything would probably go after Iron Hoof first, and then me, and Celestia herself might not be able to soothe their anger, bloodlust, and desire for revenge.

“As I said, Silverspeak, you are a fool. You never thought this through, did you?”

I should ignore Chrysalis. Turn away and let her mock me. The fact that she’s doing so amazes me. Even now, with the fate of our world at stake, she wants to tear me down, and I haven’t the faintest idea why. Perhaps angry at being a prisoner of her former enemies, she wants to feel better by tearing others down. Even now, she beams, her pride etched upon her face. I know that pride: it’s the pride of a bully who feels on top of the world.

Celestia, how I hate that pride.

“I’m not the fool, Chrysalis,” I say. “If anything, you are the fool.”

My worlds make the queen chuckle again. “Really? And why’s that?”

“Yes, I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done terrible things with my life. But I’ve tried to make amends. I’ve tried to undo the damage I’ve caused. But you? You’ve spent your whole life trying to enslave others, and not once have you shown any remorse or regret.” I shake my head. “When you die, Chrysalis, everyone’s going to celebrate. You know why? Because you only ever thought of yourself. You don’t care how much pain and suffering you inflict on others.”

I return the glare she gave me.

“You’re a tumor, Chrysalis. And the world will be better off without you.”

Chrysalis doesn’t speak. Veins rise under skin that’s now bright red, and her teeth grind against each other. But neither can compare to the waves of anger and hate radiating off her, all directed at me. I’ve never seen Chrysalis so angry before, so full of rage and hatred that she wants to kick, bite, and tear at me until there’s nothing left.

And yet... through the fury, I see something else. Beneath the mask of anger, there’s horror at realizing that I’m telling the truth. Chrysalis doesn’t want to hear it. She wants to bury that horror and grief as deep as it can go, to ensure that it never comes back to see the light of day, but even she knows that’s not possible.

All that anger, the burning skin, the grinding teeth, the desire to inflict pain... it’s just a mask to hide her own.

On one level, it’s so satisfying to see the queen of the changelings seething. Even though they’re trying to hide it, I can see the others hiding their own smiles, even if they are surprised at me calling her a tumor. But I’m right. Even now, when she’s helping us, it’s not out of a desire to atone for past mistakes. She wants revenge and nothing else.

After what she did to my family, seeing her stew in her hate is the sweetest justice I can imagine... and yet, it’s not sweet. Satisfying, yes, but hollow.

Celestia... she wouldn’t trades insults or mock her adversaries. She wouldn’t try to tear them down. She’d offer them the chance to turn their lives around. Or, if her anger was too great, she might lock them up, but still offer hope that they might find redemption someday.

Perhaps I should do the same.

“You’ve done great evil, Chrysalis-”

Only the spears and guns of Chrysalis’ soldiers keep the queen from leaping out of her seat.

“-but everyone loves a good redemption story. Perhaps freeing Celestia is my chance to make up for what I’ve done... and maybe it’s your chance, too.”

I lean back in my seat. I’ve had my say and made my point. Now it’s up to Chrysalis to decide what she’ll do with it. The fury, grief, and pain is still there, but all three are already fading. Chrysalis is thinking about what I’ve said.

She doesn’t know what to make of it.

The resulting silence is broken as Green Wing leans back from the cockpit. “Heads up back there: We’re approaching the target. ETA, five minutes.”

All arguments and discourse are forgotten as we ready ourselves to disembark. I follow the lead from the others and make sure all my equipment and gear is secured, snatching a wide-brimmed hat from a rack on the wall. When that’s done, I peer out the cockpit windows, hoping to catch sight of our target. Yet, I can see nothing through the rain and darkness. Green Wing’s looking, too.

“Should have visual on... there. There it is.”

A lightning flash illuminates a small structure on the horizon.

A pyramid.

“All craft, prepare to disembark,” Onyx says into his radio. Then, to Green Wing, “Are there any clearings nearby?”

I join our pilot as she surveys the canopy. “There.” Green Wing points northeast. “Looks like a small clearing near a lake.”

“Set us down there,” Onyx says as he brings up his microphone. “All squads, converge on our position. I want everyone on the ground in five minutes.”

It’s difficult to keep the shuttle steady amongst the wind and rain. Gusty could probably do it with his eyes closed. Green Wing’s nowhere near his level of skill, but she manages to get us down, leaves and fronds scraping the ship’s side as it descends.

A soldier goes to the door and takes hold of the handle, ready to swing it open.

It’s reassuring to clutch my submachine gun. I don’t know what’s waiting for us out there in the jungle, or what traps we might be walking into, but at least this gives me some confidence to face it.

The shuttle comes to a stop with a gentle bump. The shaking’s not even done when the soldier yanks the door open with all his might. “Go, go, go!”

Thorax takes the lead, jumping from the hatch into the muck. The other soldiers follow him, then Chrysalis and her guards, and then Green Wing as her co-pilot takes her seat. I’m the last one out, taking a deep breath as I rush through the doorway and land in the mud. My uniform’s pounded by the pouring rain, the brim of my hat struggling to stay stiff under the relentless downpour. I’ve never been in a storm this brutal.

The door slides shut behind us as the ship rises back into the sky, quickly replaced by another coming down. It’s also emptied of its troops, the process repeating itself with the other craft.

The last ship finally departs, leaving us all to crowd around each other at the lakeside.

“Alright everyone, listen up!” Green Wing yells. “Target’s half a mile ahead! We’ve assaulted Iron Hoof’s fortresses before, and this one is no different! Follow me and stay close!”

Green Wing heads off into the underbrush, and the rest of us follow.

I’ve never been fond of jungle environments, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. The dense canopy blocks out much of the rain, but that’s little comfort as we struggle through the mud and the muck, boots glopping and schlorping as we hack and slash our way through vines, bushes, and fallen trees. This is nature at its wildest, the air heavy with the stench of vegetation in various states of growth and decay. Yet, it’s amazing how having a goal can help one tolerate even the most horrid conditions, so I block it out and I follow the others.

Chrysalis, who I expected to gripe and complain the most, is unusually silent. She seems lost in thought, almost uninterested in what we’re doing or where we’re going.

It’s another miserable half hour before Green Wing finally raises a hoof. The others instantly crouch down, and I follow suit.

We’re at the edge of a clearing. Before us, lying amongst tall grass and overgrown bushes, is the pyramid. While it was small from above, it’s enormous when we’re within walking distance, dwarfing all of Ponyville. Towering high into the sky, the house-sized blocks of stone have moss, vines, and other vegetation creeping up and sprouting from between cracks in the bricks. Several smaller temples are the same, all draped under a blanket of vines and plant life from centuries of uncontrolled growth. Only the presence of fences, tents, and prefabricated structures shows that it’s been recently inhabited.

I bring up my binoculars and take a look at the temple complexes. Strange... all the lights are out. At this late hour, it’s to be expected that most of the complexes’ residents would be asleep, but it’s also reasonable to expect guards and patrols manning the grounds, and countless lights to discourage any wildlife or intruders from getting too close.

Green Wing brings up her radio. “Onyx, this is Green Wing. We’ve reached the compound perimeter.”

“I copy,” Onyx say. “Move in and secure the grounds.”

“Will do.” She jams the radio into her pocket. “All squads, spread out. We move in on my signal.”

The squads around me disperse, slipping away into the undergrowth. In moments they’re gone, as if the jungle itself has swallowed them up.

“Silverspeak, Chrysalis, Thorax, you stay here,” Green Wing says. “I can’t risk you just yet.”

I nod. That arrangement suits me just fine.

When ten minutes pass, Green Wing brings her radio up. “All squads, report in.”

No voices emerge from the speaker. Rather, there are several distinct clicks.

“Alright. We don’t want to let anyone know we’re here, so no gunfire unless you have no choice.” Taking a moment to calm herself and steel her nerves, Green Wing breathes deep and gives a single command.

“Move in.”

Like a spring that’s been sprung, Green Wing takes off towards the complex in a quick, but silent jog, followed by the other members of her squad. I stay where I am, as do Thorax, Chrysalis, and her guards.

There’s nothing for us to do now but wait.

Several minutes pass.

I listen for the sounds of combat: Gunfire, grenades, screams, but there are none. All I can hear is the pouring rain and distant thunder.

The brim of my hat gives way as I glance at Chrysalis and her guards, two of whom keep a close eye on the jungle behind us. Beside me, Thorax is like a statue, nervous about those who have gone ahead. Even knowing that it’s not safe to risk himself, he still wants to help, disliking having to stay behind while others risk themselves.

The radio crackles. “Onyx, this is Green Wing. Outer complex secure.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“I copy,” Onyx says. He’s relieved as well, but hasn’t let his guard down. “Any problems?”

“No.” Green Wing sounds surprised. “All the buildings here are empty. No guards, no sentries, nothing.”

Considering the oddity of the situation, it’s a moment before Onyx replies. “Copy that. Proceed inside.”

“Will do,” Green Wing says. “Thorax, Chrysalis, Silverspeak, meet us as the front of the pyramid.”

I bring up my radio. “On our way.”

Thorax takes the lead. I follow him as we hurry into the clearing. We reach a fence in short order, and pass through a recently-cut hole, making our way past the tents and portable buildings set up around the temples.

Though Green Wing gave the all-clear, I still hold my gun close. There’s no telling if someone, or something, is hiding in the shadows. Yet, it appears we’re alone: equipment and tools lie scattered about, as if their owners dropped them and ran off in a hurry.

We reach the main pyramid, where Green Wing and the other squads have converged before a pair of giant stone doors.

“This the only way in or out?” Green Wing asks Chrysalis. When she nods, Green Wing turns to the others. “Alright. Open them.”

Dozens of guns are raised as two unicorns magically open the doors as quietly as they can. But no matter how slowly they go, stone still grinds against stone, a horribly loud sound that even the rain can’t mask.

I tense myself, ready to leap back if a barrage of bullets shoots out of darkness within.

Nothing happens.

The soldiers rush inside. Only after several moments when there are no sounds of gunfire, do I follow them inside, entering a hall lined with cables and wires pressed up against vines and stones encrusted with plant growth. Lights hang from the ceiling, but they’re dark.

The doors grind shut behind us, silencing the storm outside. It also plunges the hall into darkness. It’s broken as green flares sputter to life.

“Bravo team, stay here and cover our backs,” Green Wing whispers. “The rest of you, with me.”

The soldiers move with practiced speed, resembling a well-oiled machine instead of living beings. I try to keep up as we hurry along. When we reach the first side passage, the troops hurry inside. I follow, and find that we’ve entered the control room. It was probably a ceremonial chamber of some kind, judging from the glyphs carved into the walls. Computer consoles and terminals line the walls, but all have been powered down.

Nobody’s here.

Soldiers check the computers, only to curse at what they find. Green Wing joins them, and utters a curse as she looks behind the terminals. “Onyx, come in. We’ve reached the control room, but it’s been abandoned. Computer cables have been cut. Looks like the staff didn’t want us finding out their secrets.”

I hear Onyx sighing over the radio. “Acknowledged. Any sign of them?”

“No. Looks like everything’s been abandoned. Tools and equipment lying all over the place. Whatever happened here, I think we missed it.”

“Keep searching the structure. We may find something useful in the lower levels.”

“Heading down there now.” Green Wing ends the call. “Chrysalis, where’s this elevator of yours?”

Chrysalis doesn’t answer, lost in thought.

“Chrysalis!”

Shaken from her thoughts, Chrysalis points back to the way we came. “Not far.”

“Alright. Everyone, with me.”

We follow Green Wing out, leaving the room in darkness once more.

Chrysalis leads us to a set of elevator doors at the end of the hall. Without power, though, it’s up to two unicorns using all their magic to force them open, revealing an empty shaft beyond. A few giant cables swing within, severed by either a sharp blade or magical beam. The facility’s staff must not have wanted anyone to gain easy access to the levels below.

“Alright, we’re going down,” Green Wing says. “Delta squad, you stay here to keep anyone from following us. The rest of you, with me.”

Thick ropes are attached to the floor and rolled into the shaft. Soldiers seamlessly hook themselves up and climb down one after another. It isn’t long before it’s my turn, and though I’ve never rappelled before, it isn’t that difficult to hang on and slide down. The hardest part is not looking down. Regardless of my cybernetics, a fall from five stories would crumple me like a tin can.

I’m shaking slightly as I reach the doors, where two soldiers pull me inside and back onto solid ground. Nodding in thanks, I unlatch myself and look around. We’re all in a sparse, metal lobby bereft of decorations or anything to give it a little cheer. There’s a thick door ahead of us, but Green Wing probably wants everyone present before it’s opened.

“What’s behind that?” Thorax asks Chrysalis.

“The research facility,” Chrysalis answers, her hostility towards her former subject seemingly forgotten. “That security door is to keep any unauthorized personnel from getting inside.”

With a chill, I realize it probably serves another purpose: keeping anyone from getting out.

The last of the soldiers emerge from the shaft, followed by Green Wing. Out of habit, she tries the door, but as expected, it won’t open without any power.

A nod, and four unicorns take up position around the door. The others hold back, firearms at the ready as the door is magically forced open, finally locking into place with a loud clang

Darkness awaits us.

Two soldiers crack flares and toss them through. Green light reveals a long corridor of stainless steel.

Green Wing’s pointed hoof sends the rest of the soldiers into the tunnel where they spread out, quickly hurrying along as they search for any traps, threats, or soldiers lying in wait. They toss more flares as they go, revealing that the tunnel goes on and on, until they finally reach another sealed door.

“Clear!” one of the soldiers calls back.

I relax slightly, and so does Green Wing; I hadn’t noticed that she was holding her breath. She hurries inside with the other soldiers. I follow her lead, my heart sinking as I see numerous piles of equipment, discarded paper, and other debris that was left behind in a mad rush.

It appears we were too late to catch anyone... including Beakbreaker.

“Search the rooms,” Green Wing calls out. “Make sure there’s nobody hiding in a closet somewhere. And see if there’s any documents we can use.”

Rooms? I look up to see numerous doors embedded in the walls. Each has a thick plane of glass in the top, but without any light, it’s impossible to see what’s on the other side. That’s no obstacle for the soldiers, who, whether by magic or crowbars, pry the doors open and hurry inside.

I hurry to the closest door, following the soldiers inside. It’s a long shot, but if I know Beakbreaker, she would probably try to find somewhere to hide if everyone was in a mad rush to leave this place. Whether she’d be successful or not, I can’t say: a high-priority researcher like herself wouldn’t be able to slip away easily, but if there’s anyone who can do it, it would be her.

The room I’m in isn’t a good hiding place: there are no closets here, no boxes on shelves, or even shelves for that matter: this place has been stripped clean. Heading out into the hall, I hurry along the other doors, peering inside, hoping to find the soldiers gathered around a zebra, or yanking open another door to find someone hiding within. But all the rooms are as empty as the first. At least, most of them are: A few hold machines and equipment, but I can’t fathom what their purpose is.

I’m not sure I want to know.

The other doors hold little of interest. Some lead to offices and labs filled with broken beakers and chairs lying upon the floor. Others hold even more machines, all smashes to pieces with magic or sledgehammers. One door leads to a room the size of a basketball court, but with hooks, chains, and equipment dangling from the ceiling instead of benches and baskets.

I reach the last room, and though the sinking feeling in my stomach is rising, I try to hold onto hope as I hurry inside, using my barrel-mounted flashlight to illuminate the interior. But my hopes are dashed – there’s no one here.

Confound it all...

Okay, Silverspeak, don’t let your anger get the better of you. It was a long shot that Beakbreaker or the others would be here. There’s bound to be a clue somewhere around here on where they went.

You’ll find her. It’s just going to take a little more time.

I hear hoofsteps behind me, and turn to find Green Wing and Thorax coming inside. The former shines her light around, illuminating the numerous empty crates shoved against the walls.

“Well, looks like this level’s a bust. No notes, no computers we can hack, nothing.”

Thorax goes to the crates, peering his own light inside.

“Let’s hope there’s something below,” Green Wing says, “otherwise this trip will have been for thing.”

“It isn’t,” Thorax calls out. He’s at a crate on the far side of the room.

I hurry over with the others and peer inside the crate. There’s a body inside. Mechanic, not organic, but it’s broken, scattered about in dozens of pieces of varying size. It appears that whoever was trying to demolish it wasn’t able to complete the job in time.

“Oh no...”

I look to Green Wing. “What is it?”

“Power armor... we’ve heard rumors that Iron Hoof was trying to make it. Hoped to tartarus he wasn’t, because just one of these things has more firepower than fifty armed ponies. Has enough armor to withstand such a barrage, too.”

Thorax leans in for a closer look. “Can’t tell if it’s a prototype or functional.”

“Let’s hope to Celestia it’s the former.” Green Wing eyes the other crates. “If Iron Hoof ever completed them...”

She trails off, not wanting to dwell on the image of dozens of these things, perhaps hundreds, swarming over a battlefield.

A griffin breaks the silence as she rushes inside. “We finished our sweep. There’s no one here.”

“Any computers still functioning?”

The griffin shakes her head. “They’re all smashed. Only good for scrap metal now.”

“Buck... alright. Let’s sweep the third level and get out of here.” As the griffin heads back into the hall, Green Wing turns to Chrysalis. “Did you know about the power armor?”

“Yes, but he was still researching them when I was thrown into his dungeons.” Chrysalis goes to one of the empty crates. “It appears that research bore fruit.”

Green Wing doesn’t want to believe it’s true. I feel the same; if these contraptions are as powerful as Green Wing said they were, then even a small squad of a dozen suited soldiers can overpower at least five-hundred opponents.

Let’s hope that never happens.

Another elevator awaits us at the end of the research hall. Once more, the unicorns force it open, revealing that the cables were cut, the elevator itself nothing but a pile of jagged metal at the bottom.

Our descent to the bottom of the shaft takes longer, for it’s now ten floors instead of five. When I drop into the car and head through the doors, I join the others inside another darkened chamber. Unlike the research lab above, the air is warmer. Humid, too, and with a powerful stench. There were many sweaty, dirty bodies here recently.

Soldiers toss flares into the darkness. They roll far, the light revealing metal bars. Cages... dozens of them. They’re enormous, filling the chamber as far as we can see, each designed to hold hundreds of prisoners.

All of them are empty.

The soldiers around me recoil at the sight. They’re no doubt seen all the horrors of war, but this is a special kind of cruelty. It’s all too easy to imagine hundreds, if not thousands of ponies crammed into this place, their cries and moans combining into a deafening chorus, broken by screams as the unfortunate were taken upstairs to be experimented on.

I can’t stand the thought of Beakbreaker being one of those doing the experimenting.

“Spread out,” Green Wing says. She too, is sickened at all the cages, and wants to get out of here. From the speed at which the soldiers rush ahead, the feeling is mutual.

Flares and flashlights illuminate more of the chamber, including enormous pillars holding up the weight of the complex above. This place is enormous, easily the size of a football stadium, perhaps even bigger. Was this some sort of ritual area in centuries past? Did macabre ceremonies take place-

“Captain!”

Green Wing rushes towards the pony who called out. I’m right behind her, and so are the others, with two soldiers remaining behind to guard the elevator shaft.

We reach the soldier, who stands before one of the cells, his light shining through the bars.

A pony is inside the cell, pressed up against the corner. At least, I think it’s a pony: the shape is the same, but the body is covered in tight-fitting metallic armor. It reminds of robotic monstrosities lumbering after the heroes in a B-grade science fiction film. But this is no costume built from foam and cardboard; it’s real metal.

“What is that?” I whisper to Thorax. It’s a moment before he answers, for his breathing had quickened at seeing the form.

“It’s a cyborg,” he whispers.

Green Wing keeps her weapon up, ready to fire if the pony even so much as twitches.

“Is it dead?” I ask.

Thorax doesn’t answer. I’ve never seen the king of the changelings afraid before, but he is now.

With great reluctance, one of the soldiers opens the cage and creeps inside, his hoof half-squeezing the trigger of his rifle.

The cyborg doesn’t move.

The soldier stops a few feet away. He stretches his gun out, poking the cyborg with the muzzle’s tip.

There’s no reaction.

“Is it dead?” Green Wing asks, hoping for a yes.

Another poke fails to elicit a response. Creeping closer, the soldier cautiously reaches to the back of the neck and feels for a pulse.

The soldiers around me fight to keep their aim steady.

With a fast jump, the pony in the cell retreats. “It’s alive!”

“Stay calm!” Green Wing says, keeping her gun up. “Medics, scan the thing. Make sure it’s not carrying any bombs or tracers.”

Four unicorns head to the cell’s entrance as the soldier scurries outside. They don’t enter, conducting their scan from a safe distance.

“Why are they so nervous?” I ask Thorax.

“Because cyborgs don’t try to kill you,” Thorax explains. His voice is low, as if he’s afraid of waking the thing up. “They do everything in their power to subdue you, and then you’re converted into one of them, and there’s nothing no one can do to save you.”

“Not even Luna?”

Thorax shakes his head. “She’s tried. But the magic used to convert ponies are programmed to kill the host if it’s reversed. We haven’t figured out how to stop it.”

“It’s clean,” one of the medics announces. “No weapons or explosives.”

“Homing devices?” Green Wing asks.

The medic shakes her head.

“Alright... Thorax, what do you say?” Green Wing asks. “We take it with us or leave it here?”

“I’d say we should put it in stasis and take it,” Thorax says. “But something isn’t right. It’s-”

“Left here for us to find? Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

“Maybe it’s damaged somehow,” I suggest.

“Iron Hoof doesn’t leave his forces behind, even damaged ones. He believes in bringing everyone back, no matter how banged up they are.”

Some of the soldiers chip in with their opinions. I pay them no heed as I focus on the cyborg. It hasn’t moved. I step closer to the bars, circling the cage to get a better view, staying well beyond its reach should it try to grab me through the bars. But there’s nothing to see, only more metal. Where a face should be, there’s only a reflective faceplate.

It’s hard to believe there’s a living, breathing, thinking pony within that shell. Yet, there’s no whimpering, no signs of struggling, not even faint wiggling.

Is it awake and aware of me? Is it silently begging me to help it? To subdue it and rip out that chip, even if it means certain dea-

Something moves.

I spin, shining my light upon the floor. “Did anyone hear that?”

Green Wing’s at my side in an instant, eyes wild as she scans the darkness. “Hear what?”

“Sounded like something moving.”

Green Wing’s flashlight cuts through the darkness. So does a dozen other lights, slicing through the darkness like a sword, searching for whatever made the sound.

There’s nothing in sight.

“Where did you hear it?” Green Wing asks. I point in one direction, and she gestures for two soldiers to go and investigate. As they hurry off, Green Wing turns back to the cage. “Alright, I’ve had enough of this place. What are we going to do about the cyborg?”

Chrysalis has moved to the edge of the cage, where she studies the cyborg. “Put it out of its misery,” she says.

The thought sickens Green Wing. “We aren’t murderers.”

“It’s not murder. It’s a mercy killing. But whatever you wish to do, do it quickly.” She eyes the darkness surrounding us. “Iron Hoof is quite fond of traps.”

“But we haven’t found anything about where Black Fang is,” Thorax points out. “Or the Princess and the Bearers.”

“Then we shall find them some other way.”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree,” Green Wing says. She gestures to the cyborg. “Thorax, you think you can teleport that thing?”

“Where?”

“Somewhere out of the way.”

Thorax lights up his horn, his brow furrowing as he concentrates, only to stop moments later. “It won’t work. There’s something in the walls. Most likely to keep prisoners from teleporting themselves out.”

“Figures. We’ll leave the cyborg here. Send a specialist team to come and get it later.” She raises her voice. “Alright everyone, gather up! We’re leaving.”

The other soldiers head towards the cage, all of them eager to get out of here. I spin my light, searching for any stragglers. Green Wing’s voice was loud, but it can’t hurt to-

I freeze.

“Everyone here?” Green Wing asks. “Sound-”

“Green Wing?”

She looks to me. “What?”

I point towards the elevator shaft.

“What? What’s-”

She freezes.

The soldiers who were guarding the elevator...

They’re gone.

“Close ranks!”

I rush to the other soldiers, who ram themselves against one another, shoulders hitting shoulders as they raise their guns. Two part as I scurry between them, raising my own firearm.

“Red Heat!” Green Wing yells. “Sure Shot!”

There’s no answer.

“Red Heat! Sure Shot!” Green Wing looks towards another area of the room, where the other two soldiers headed off. “Strong Legs! Amethyst!”

Silence.

Green Wing gulps, hooves trembling as she grips her gun. “We head for the doors,” She says. “If any of you see or hear anything, call it out. Don’t-”

Something falls before me.

Everyone spins towards the object. I almost yank the trigger, but hold back. It’s just a rock. Nothing to get concerned abou-

Another rock falls, landing beside the first.

Nobody moves.

Nobody breathes.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I take my flashlight and look up... into the one area we haven’t checked: The ceiling.

My light dances across something metallic and oddly shaped. It moves.

Then, so do the pieces next to it.

Like a nest of bats in a cave, the ceiling is covered in cyborgs.

Green Wing’s gaze goes from the rock that dropped near me, and then follows my gaze up. “They’re on the ceiling!” she screams. “Open fire!”

I yank on the trigger, and the muzzle flash lights up the darkened chamber, joining the flashes from the other guns. Cyborgs drop from the ceiling like acrobats, bullets harmlessly ricocheting off their armour as they slam into the floor with massive thuds, cracking the stone underneath. A fall like that would break the legs of a regular pony, but it’s just an inconvenience for our attackers as they leap up.

“The shaft!” Green Wing yells. “Go!”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice, and I bolt for the elevator shaft with the others, some of whom spin to cover our retreat. I only get a few yards before skidding to a stop. Cyborgs are pouring out from the shaft like ants swarming from an anthill.

“The cage!” I shout. “Into the cage!”

I’m answered by desperate, incoherent screams. Spinning, I watch as cyborgs swarm the soldiers, overwhelming them like a hive of mechanical ants.

One soldier is forced to the floor, where a something is shoved onto the top of his head. It looks like a metal plate scarcely larger than a credit card. But then it starts duplicating itself, unfolding as it spreads across the pony’s head, gripping his flesh tightly.

The pony screams as the metal reaches his face, but the cyborgs hold his legs down, preventing him from ripping the metal off as it covers his mouth, and then his nose, and, finally, his terrified eyes.

With a loud click, the metal squeezes around the pony’s head. The cyborgs let go as the pony paws frantically at the hood, which muffles his barely-audible screams.

“Go!” Green Wing shouts. “Don’t stop!”

I run for the cage. The cyborgs press in towards us, the soldiers fighting to hold them back. But there are too many of them, and more and more of our soldiers are overrun, forced down to the floor, screaming and howling as the cyborgs shove more unfolding helmets onto the soldiers.

I run, shoving and kicking as cyborgs get too close. I somehow reach the cage and leap inside. Thorax is right behind me, then Green Wing, several soldiers, and then Chrysalis. She leaps inside as cyborgs swarm over her handlers, dragging them into the writhing mass of metallic bodies.

Green Wing slams the door shut. “Thorax!”

Thorax fires a burst of magic, and the door’s locks melt into useless slag, welding the door to the surrounding bars.

Cyborgs slam against the cage, howling and screeching. But these aren’t the sounds of creatures who hunger or desire to inflict suffering on their victims. These yells... even through the metal and armour, I can hear their screams of misery, desperate to escape their metallic prisons.

Another howl makes my ears ache. I turn to see the cyborg rushing us, targeting... me! I-

Green Wing tackles the cyborg, slamming it against the bars. She rams her gun against its head and fires, high-powered rounds tearing through armor. The lifeless body slumps to the floor, red blood flowing over the metal plates.

Hooves smash away at the bars. But this cage was built to hold dozens of prisoners, and to withstand the might of earth pony strength and unicorn magic. It will hold.

For how long, I can’t say.

“Onyx, this is Green wing!” Green Wing yells. “We got caught in an ambush! We’re trapped in the third level with at least a hundred cyborgs! We need backup and we need it now!”

Hundreds of hooves bang against the bars.

“General?! General, come in!” A shake of the radio fails to bring Onyx through. “Blast it!”

The banging increases, and the cyborg’s desperate moans only get louder.

“Inventory check!” Green Wing says. Around her, soldiers check their weapons and supplies, calling out what they have. While we have plenty of ammunition, it isn’t enough to take out all the cyborgs surrounding us. Celestia, there’s so many of them! They probably outnumber us two to one, perhaps even three.

Faces smash themselves against the bars. They’re fighting to get inside, smashing against the bars, screaming in pain with every hit.

My heart nearly stops at seeing tears streaking down their necks, leaking out from under the armor.

And then they suddenly stop.

Everything goes silent.

The cyborgs step away from the cage, shaking and twitching, their howls silenced.

“What are they doing?” I ask.

“They’re being good soldiers,” a voice says from behind the crowd.

The cyborgs part again as someone passes through their ranks. Guns are instantly trained on him, my own included. I know this pony: he was the commander at the outpost, and the one who tried to kidnap Beakbreaker all those years ago on the Eagle.

I couldn’t forget him even if I wanted to.

The pony looks us over, delighted at our misfortune. “Well, looks like I got my rats all in one cage.” He chuckles. “And what a catch: King Thorax, Queen Chrysalis... And is that you, Green Wing?”

Green Wing doesn’t answer. Her cheeks turn red, but not from embarrassment.

“Well, bless my soul, it is. Funny how you escape from my outpost, only to be caught again.” The pony strolls to the bars, ignoring the guns pointed at his face. “I always get my prey in the end, changeling. I thought you would have learned that by now.”

Green Wing’s shaking, but she refuses to acknowledge the pony.

“And who is this? Oh my... Silverspeak. Iron Hoof’s going to be so happy when I bring you all to him.”

The soldiers around me close ranks. One shoves the barrel of his gun through the bars, the muzzle inches from the pony’s face. But he doesn’t panic or back off.

He just grins.

“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You see, if I’m killed, there’s no one left to hold back these cyborgs.” He pats one on the head. “Just how many bullets do you have in those magazines of yours?”

“Enough to kill you,” Green Wing snarls.

“My, my, such bloodlust! Never knew you had it in you, Green Wing.”

I barely notice it, but Green Wing’s hoof tightens on the trigger of her shotgun. Just the slightest of squeezes, and our captor’s face will be decorating the opposite wall.

“I have a proposition for you all: Put down your weapons, surrender, and you’ll get to sit the rest of this war out in a nice, cozy cell. Better then becoming a cyborg, as your friends here can attest. Iron Hoof is merciful: He wants to avoid any further loss of life. The Resistance may die, but you’ll all live. You’ll be pardoned and get a chance to be part of our new world.”

The pony puts on a smile worthy of a used-car salesman. “What do you all say?”

“Go to Tartarus,” Green Wing says.

The others nod in agreement.

“Now, now, Ms. Green Wing. You wouldn’t want to lose all your troops here, not when the war’s almost at an end.” He smiles. “Haven’t you lost enough loved ones already?”

Green Wing shakes.

The pony ignores her. “Last chance. All of you. You’re coming with me, one way or another. Best you choose-”

Green Wing yells, yanking on her trigger. The pony falls, but it’s more of a stumble, for he had managed a half-leap as Green Wing fired. He scrambles back, blood trickling from nicks and slices in his uniform.

Green Wing fires again, but two cyborgs leap before their commander, their armor easily absorbing the blast. And then the pony’s gone as the swarm surrounds the cage once more, banging away as hard as they can.

The bars begin to groan as they bed inwards.

Green Wing’s livid, but not so furious that she can’t think and prioritize. Letting her gun fall to the floor, she pulls out two blue-colored grenades from her vest.

“Everyone, EMP grenades!”

The others comply, yanking out blue grenades from their own vests.

“Alright, here’s the plan! We all pull the pins at once! When the blast’s done, Thorax unblocks the door, we run to the shaft, climb up, seal the doors, and get out of here!”

“But what about the upper levels?” a soldier asks. “If they’re under attack, we can’t-”

“We’ll deal with it!” Green Wing snaps. “And if you find that smiling motherbucker... he’s mine!” She wraps her hooves around her grenades. “Thorax! You take care of Silverspeak!”

Thorax hurries to me. “Silverspeak, we’re going to fire off some EMP grenades; they’ll stop the cyborgs... but also shut your systems down momentarily. I’ll restart them before you feel anything.”

Wait, is he... is he serious? My heart and lungs are going to shut down? Without air to breathe or a heart to pump blood, I’ll-

The bars groan and crack.

“On three!” Green Wing shouts.

Before I have a chance to protest, Thorax pushes me to the floor and opens a panel on my flank.

“One!” Green Wing yells. “Two! Three!”

Pins are yanked, and grenades held high.

There’s a loud bang and a wave of blue energy washes over and through me.

My chest goes still. I try to breathe, but my lungs don’t move. Oh Celestia, I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! I-

Air floods my lungs as Thorax hits something. My heart starts up again, hammering away as fast as it can.

“Go!” Green Wing yells. “Go, go, go!”

Thorax yanks me up as he blasts the cage door off its hinges. He tosses me onto his back as he runs from the cage, leaping through the piles of cyborgs lying around us, limp and unmoving. Are they dead? No, they aren’t... if I can be reactivated, so can they.

We reach the elevator shaft. Ropes are grabbed, and those who can fly take hold of their earthbound companions and race upwards. I clutch Thorax as he flies upwards, his aged wings beating hard. He’s sweating and panting, but manages to reach the research level in seconds.

Sliding off his back, I stagger on solid ground, but the feeling passes. I go to the edge, brace myself, and help pull soldiers up and through the doors.

Chrysalis reaches the doors, wheezing as she tries to pull herself through. I grab her leg and yank her inside. She looks to me; is she grateful? Embarrassed? Angry at having been helped? I can’t tell.

Without a word, she hurries on.

Green Wing is the last one out of the shaft. She grabs hold of one door and shoves it. I take hold of the other, and the two slam together. Two unicorns immediately go to work, quickly welding them together.

“Everyone okay?!” Green Wings asks, panting from the effort of our rushed escape.

Soldiers nod, equally as tired, but in no mood to stop.

“Alright. Let’s get-”

There’s moans and shouts from the other end of the research lab.

They’re coming our way.

“Buck!”

Thorax runs to the end of the hall, two unicorns right beside him. They reach the doors and quickly weld them shut.

“Chrysalis, is there any other way out of here?!” Green Wing asks.

“No. That door is the only way in or out.”

If she’s panicking, Green Wing hides it well as she reloads her shotgun. “Then it looks like we’re going to have to blast our way out of here.”

“But the cyborgs,” one of the soldiers says. “They’re-”

“It’s them or us,” Green Wing says, not looking up as she loads shell after shell into the barrel.

The doors behind us bend as hooves slam into it from the other side.

The soldiers rush to prepare their weapons and themselves. Things are happening too quickly for them to be scared. I don’t have that luxury. Chrysalis says there’s no way out, but she has to be wrong: there’s always a way out. We just have to find-

Wait... air vents! A place this big can’t operate unless there was a way to pump air down to the lower levels!

I run into the closest research room and shine my light on the ceiling. But there’s none to be seen. Wait! The air vents! Maybe there’s a vent somewhere nearby!

I run into the closest room and look up to the ceiling. It’s solid, and there are no vents to be seen. I run out and try another room. But there’s no vent in here either.

Where are they?!

The banging on both ends of the hallway are becoming increasingly frantic.

“Hold your ground!” Green Wing says. “We can do this!”

Think, Silverspeak, think! If you were designing this place, where would you put a vent?

“You’re looking for a way out.”

I spin. Chrysalis has followed me inside.

“Chrysalis! Is there an air vent nearby? Anything we can use to get out?!”

She nods. Then she turns and hurries out and down the hall.

“Silverspeak! Chrysalis!” Green Wing shouts. “Stay-”

An explosion rocks the hall as the doors ahead are blown apart. They fly past us, and so does a barrage of smoke seeping from cylinders rolling across the floor. In moments the hall is flooded; I cough, keeping my head low as I follow Chrysalis into the giant auditorium with the chains and hooks. She ignores them, rushing to a series of crates in the corner, where she grabs one and tries to shove it against the others. Joining her, I lend my own strength, and together we ram the thing into place.

Scrambling on top, Chrysalis climbs up the other crates. She’s panting by the time she reaches the top, but desperation gives her the strength to hit away at a vent cover. It finally breaks free, exposing a duct within.

I spin towards the hall. “Gr-”

A hoof clamps across my muzzle and yanks me back with surprising strength.

“If you want to escape,” Chrysalis whispers, “you will stay silent.” She shoves me towards the vent. “Inside. Now.”

I climb in, easily pulling myself inside. The vent is cramped, but just wide enough that I can squeeze myself around. “The others!”

There’s no reply, for Chrysalis is already gone.

“Chry...”

I stop as the howls of cyborgs climb into the vent. If I yell, then they’ll know I’m here.

A form appears in the smoke beneath me. Is it a cyborg?! I reach for my gun, ready to... no. No, it’s not a cyborg. It’s Thorax!

“Thorax!”

Hearing my voice, Thorax looks up. He doesn’t question why I’m in a vent, instead grabbing my outstretched hoof. He’s bigger than I am, but my artificial muscles are stronger and I pull him inside as if he were a child. Problem is, though he’s safe, the vent’s too cramped with the two of us squeezing up beside one another. I retreat deeper inside while Thorax stays at the entrance, turning so that he’s the one looking down.

I’ve only scooted back a few feet when Thorax thrusts his hoof down and grabs hold of something I can’t see. He struggles, finally pulling a form inside. It’s Green Wing! But she’s limp, her eyes closed. Is she dead?! No, no, she’s breathing, just knocked out.

“Silverspeak, back up!” Thorax says.

I scoot back as Thorax does the same, dragging Green Wing’s limp body with him. Another form leaps up after him. I almost shout, but silence myself in time: It’s Chrysalis, not a cyborg.

My rear hits the end of the vent. I look up, but while the shaft continues upwards, it narrows until even a foal would have trouble getting through.

We’re trapped.

“Chrysalis, we’re-”

She hisses, pressing a hoof to her lips.

I stop talking.

There are gunshots below us. They’re muffled, but there’s no disguising how many guns are blazing away, or how the soldiers are yelling, shouting defiance to their attackers, refusing to go quietly.

It isn’t long before the gunshots become erratic.

The defiant yells turn to screams, and it’s not long before everything becomes deathly silent. I could’ve heard a pin drop

It’s quiet in the vent. I can’t even hear Thorax or Chrysalis breathing. The changeling king has his hoof over Green Wing’s snout, doing his utmost to keep her quiet, not daring to even move his head, lest his antlers scrape across metal.

Two moans approach the vent, and I frantically turn off my light.

The noise stops underneath us.

I clamp my mouth shut, going as still as I can.

If the cyborgs find out we’re in here, we won’t be able to-

The moans fade as their owners retreat.

My body wants to sigh, but I don’t dare move. The cyborgs below us have moved away, but only to rejoin their companions who remain in the hall. Their zombie-esque moans drift up to us for another minute before mercifully fading away.

Chrysalis motions for us to stay put as she carefully slides out of the vent.

Minutes pass. How many, I don’t know. Five? Ten? Twenty? How long should we hide in here before sneaking out?

Just how long can cyborgs wait for their prey? Their handler is bound to notice that we’re not among his thralls; what’s he going to do when-

There’s a whistle from down below. “Thorax. Silverspeak.” It’s Chrysalis, and her tone tells me that it’s safe to come out.

Keeping a tight hold on Green Wing, Thorax carefully lowers himself from the vent. I follow him out, dropping down onto the crates. It’s a struggle not to cough from the acrid smoke that fills the room, but it’s easier to breathe closer to the floor.

Chrysalis hurries from the room, clearly wanting to show us something. I follow her into the hall, which is now a mess: guns, broken pieces of armor, and scattered drops of blood lie across the floor. Wall panels have been dented, and a few of those panels lie where Green Wing’s squad made their last stand. But now they’re gone, as are the cyborgs.

My heart tightens up. There’s only one reason they would have left, and I try to push the thought aside. Painful as it may be to accept, we can’t do anything for Green Wing’s soldiers now, save finding Celestia. Get her, and she’ll be able to free them.

“Did no one make it?” Thorax asks, pained at seeing the telltale signs of fighting and destruction about him.

“Not from your squad, no,” Chrysalis says. “But the cyborgs lost someone quite important.” She goes to a fallen panel and kicks it off, revealing the bruised form of the pony from below.

“He was about to leave with his troops,” Chrysalis explains. “Such a pity they won’t notice that he’s gone.”

Green Wing stirs upon Thorax’s back. She’s like a machine coming back to life after being deactivated for months, if not years: her limbs twitch, and she’s slow to open her eyes, confused about what’s going on, recoiling from a pain in her head. She reaches up to grab it.

Then her eyes widen.

Thrashing, Green Wing falls off Thorax's back, struggling, kicking out at invisible enemies.

“Easy!” Thorax says. He quickly kneels next to Green Wing. “Easy, Captain. You’re safe. It’s over.”

It takes Green Wing a few moments to realize that Thorax speaks the truth. When she does, she rubs her head again. “What... what happened?”

“I saved you,” Chrysalis says.

“The others!” Green Wing lurches to her hooves, winching from the pain. “Where are the others?!”

“Gone,” Chrysalis says without regret. “Taken.”

“Taken?! What do you... oh no... No, no, no!”

“There were too many,” Chrysalis explains. “I could not save everyone, so I saved those who are important.” She gestures to the pony at her hooves. “If you want revenge, take it out on him.”

Green Wing’s rage burns like an inferno. She storms towards the pony, grabbing him and slamming him into the wall. He wakes up with a yelp, unsure what’s going on. When he sees who’s holding him up, and the murderous rage in her eyes, his defiance and smugness from before give way to sheer terror.

“Now... let’s not be too hasty,” he says with a chuckle. “I-”

Green Wing does her best impersonation of a battering ram as she headbuts the pony’s snout, breaking his nose. He shrieks in agony, and then again as Green Wing hits his shattered nose again and again, each blow harder than the last.

“Stop!” he screams. “Stop! Please!”

Green Wing doesn’t listen. She’s crazed, almost feral, hitting the pony over and over. I’d intervene, had this pony not tried to take my wife from me, and succeeded in taking all of Green Wing’s squad.

“Please!”

“Did he beg?!” Green Wing smashes him again. “Did my husband beg like you?! Did he plead for his life?!”

“N... No! He didn’t!”

“Liar!”

A smash from Green Wing’s forehead shatters the pony’s nose into a bloody pulp.

“You took my husband from me. You took my child’s father.”

Green Wing slips a knife from its sheath.

“This world would be better off without you.”

“No! No, don’t!”

I can’t stay silent. “Green Wing!”

“Back off, Silverspeak!” She rears back.

“I can tell you everything you want!” The pony yells. “W… Where the others are. Anything!”

Green Wing couldn’t care less. All she wants is this pony lying on the floor while choking on his own blood. But if this pony knows where Celestia, Beakbreaker, and the others are, then this may be our only chance to get it.

“Wait!” I plant myself between Green Wing and the pony.

“Get out of the way Silversp-”

“This pony is one of Iron Hoof’s right-hoof ponies. He’ll know where the others are.” I turn on my charm. “I don’t blame you for wanting vengeance, Green Wing. But if you’re going to get it, then wait until after he talks.”

Green Wing looks to me, then the pony, and then back to me.

She steps back.

I turn to the pony. No telling how long Green Wing will be able to hold herself back, which means I need to move quickly. “Talk,” I say.

“W... What do you want to know?”

“Where is Celestia? Where are the Bearers?” I lean in close. I want him to see that I’m not messing around. “Where’s my wife?”

“Celes.... Celestia and the others were taken to Iron Hoof’s fortress in the north!”

“And where’s that?”

“Fifty miles past the northern coast!” The pony can’t get the information out fast enough. “It’s on an island enchanted with our most powerful spells!”

“And my wife? Is she there, too?”

“No! She’s.... she’s with Black Fang! He demanded that she be taken to him!”

“When?”

“Last night! Iron Hoof had her taken to his lair!”

“And where is it?!”

“Manehattan! It’s under the remains of Manehattan!”

Thorax and Chrysalis look at each other, surprised.

“There... there’s something else! Black Fang and Iron Hoof... they talked several hours ago and came to a decision. They... they decided to move forward with their plan, the one that will destroy the Resistance!”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The plan isn’t going to happen in a week!” the pony says. “It’s... it’s going to happen tomorrow!”

Tomorrow?! But... but that’s not possible! Whatever this plan is, there’s no way Iron Hoof can move all the resources he needs, or the soldiers he’d have to relocate. There’s no way he can pull it off!

“How’s he going to do it?” I demand, and I can’t stop the fear from coming into my voice. “What’s his plan?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yes you do!” I glare into the pony’s eyes, into his very soul, as I ramp up my charm to its utmost peak. “What is Iron Hoof’s plan?!”

The pony withers before me like a plant before a torch. “He... he never told me! He wanted to keep it a secret, even to his most trusted officers! Only he and Black Fang know what it is!”

Buck... he wasn’t lying after all. If that’s the case, then our only course of action is to find Black Fang himself and stop him.

“Black Fang’s fortress; how do we get into it?”

“There’s... there’s a factory on Manehattan. All of Black Fang’s victims were processed there before being sent down to him. There’s an elevator you can use. It’ll take you right to him! That’s all I know!”

“What does he do with his victims?” I demand.

“I don’t know!”

“You’re lying!”

“No, I’m not!”

I yank him towards me. “What. Does. He. Do?!”

“I don’t-”

There’s a flash of red before my snout, and something wet splashes across my hooves.

Gurgling, the pony grabs his throat, and the large slice that’s gone across it. He wobbles for a moment and then falls to his knees, blood pooling on the floor like it was coming from a hose. He looks at me with widened eyes, numb from pain and consumed by fear.

With a heavy thud, the pony collapses on the floor. He twitches once, gargles, and goes still.

I spin to Green Wing, who wipes her knife clean, her eyes locked on the lifeless body before me. There’s no smile, no jubilant grin, only the cold satisfaction of revenge.

“There was more he could have told us,” I hiss.

“He told us what we needed.” Green Wing doesn’t care if I’m frustrated. She doesn’t even show any concern at hearing that the Resistance is going to be wiped out tomorrow. She just storms down the hall towards the last elevator shaft.

Chrysalis and Thorax look to each other, their animosity forgotten. Like me, they’re shaken by the news the pony told me. But, like me, they come to the same conclusion: standing around in shock isn’t going to stop whatever’s coming, and they hurry after Green Wing.

I should hurry after the others, but I take a moment to study the body of the dead pony. Even after all he did, I don’t feel any anger towards him. Nor do I feel pity or sadness. It occurs to me that I don’t even know the pony’s name. But none of that matters. I don’t have time to waste feeling anything for a pony who only spread misery and suffering during his life.

“Silverspeak,” Thorax calls. “We should go.”

I turn and head towards the shaft, leaving the pony behind to soak in his cooling blood.

We go slowly as we climb up through the temple complex, but our fear is unwarranted as there’s no one to meet us. The squad that was left to guard the shaft are gone, and so is the one at the pyramid’s entrance, with only scattered shells and the lingering stench of gunpowder giving away what happened.

Hurrying into the pouring rain, I find no sign of the cyborgs or the soldiers. At least, not at first. There’s a multitude of footprints in the mud, steadily being erased by the rain. It seems the cyborgs came through here and headed into the forest. Where they went, I don’t know, but it would be suicide to try and track them in the jungle, where they could lie in wait and ambush us at any moment.

Green Wing is in no mood to pursue anything as she yanks out her radio. “Onyx Shield, this is Green Wing. Our group was attacked. We need immediate evac.”

There’s no answer.

“Onyx, come in!”

Silence.

“Blast... we’re on our own.” The captain looks around as she sheaths her radio. “We need to get out of here and get to Manehattan.”

“No,” Chrysalis says. “We would be better off informing your princess about the fortress.”

I shake my head. “If we find Black Fang, we might be able to stop him before he can unleash his cataclysm, whatever it is.”

“Your concern for your wife is admirable, but you fail to-”

“If we can find a ship with a radio, we can contact Luna, who can deal with the fortress while we deal with the dragon.”

With a hoof to her chin in thought, Chrysalis considers my words. “A fair point. But how are we going to reach Manehattan without a ship?”

“I think we can use that one.”

I turn to see Thorax pointing at something across the courtyard. I squint, trying to make out what that object is. A chance flash of lighting reveals a downed shuttle, one of the craft we used to get here. We all hurry over, and through the rain, I see the craft’s been shot down, giant holes in the hull testifying to some assault that we missed while hiding below. A quick check reveals that no one’s inside, nor is there any sign that anyone is nearby. But even if there were, I fear we wouldn’t have time to look for them.

With time ticking down, we have to prioritize like never before.

It takes half an hour to get the craft ready to fly. Being the most powerful magic user, Thorax does most of the work in righting the ship and patching the holes with what little material he has. Green Wing works on the electronics and the engine, with Chrysalis and myself doing manual labor, moving engines, spare parts, and other pieces of equipment to where they’re needed.

At last, the repairs are complete. Piling into the gondola, we hang on as Green Wing activates the engines. They sputter to life and send us aloft. Settling into the pilot’s chair, Green Wing takes control of the console, studies the compass, and sends us north, soaring over the canopy, leaving the pyramid and it’s dark, bloody secrets behind.

Author's Notes:

I couldn't find a place to put it in the chapter, but for those who are curious, Iron Hoof's right-hoof pony was called Silver Tongue.