A Pawn in Another's Game

by Eric Longtooth

First published 26th of May, 2017

The Princess has ruled for longer than anypony can remember, her word is final, and she is never wrong. But... What happens when she is? How far can one fall after a mistake centuries in the making?

The Princess has ruled for longer than anypony can remember, her word is final, and she is never wrong.
But...
What happens when she is? How far can one fall after a mistake centuries in the making?
And most importantly, how will it affect her 'little ponies'?
And what if, what if they are the ones to call her out?

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So... I made a thing.
This is set in the same universe as: 'Monster is, as Monster does.'
But, you can read this without any knowledge of the other, although it would show a different side of the story.
So, this is kinda a crossover with Prototype (which I don't own), and (according to Weapons_X) a Displaced fic. But, I'm not sure myself.
(Chapter 7 onwards) Edit: Now takes a good chunk of inspiration from Shadowrun and Warhammer 40k, knowlage on these are not required.

If you have the time, I would love to read any criticism you have.

Other than that, go check out these lovely people who have stopped me from making a fool of myself:
Weapons_X
Millita Man
Zachattack525 (<= New guy :D)

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Warnings:
[Rated Teen for mild gore and language] [Now rated Mature for dark themes both planned and present.]
Dark themes include: Talk about suicide, murder, and gore. Along with gore, blood, death, and more gore.
More will be added as necessary.

Prologue: Rewritten (Edited)

“It’s strange, this… thing, we call life. The closest comparison that I can give is a trail, that we all have a choice on. We can walk forward, following the hopes and ideals of those before us. We could walk back, never quite making it to the end. Or, we can walk off the trail, we could clear a path of our own that maybe, just maybe, others will walk after us. - Eric Longtooth [12:25 PM, May 12, 2017]

The night, the time when all is quiet and addressed. When ponies sleep and shun the tapestry of black and pearl whites that graces the sky, crafted by the goddess of the sun in a haphazard spectacle of misplaced grace.

And yet, in the centre of it all, built into the side of a great mountain, a city stood in defiance of the night. Cast in marble and gold, crafted to serve the sun and to be lit even in the conferting darkness of the night, was Canterlot. A maze of high rises all surrounding the great castle of the sun, home to masses of the rich and the powerful. Be they the nobles, born into power, or the great goddess of the sun, Princess Celestia.

The city was made up of three main sectors, and dozens of sub-sectors. Three rings, one in the middle, made of the castle, another just outside, for the richest of the rich, and the last, for the lucky ‘plebeians.’

And yet, in the second ring, a tall building stood in defiance to the overarching ‘rules.’ Employing the ‘plebeians’ to craft advancements for all, this building was a thorn in the side of most high-brow nobles. This building, was the Royal Canterlot Magical and Technological Research Department.

Like the city, this building was separated into multiple sectors. Everything from the Industry division, to the Agricultural. But, the jewel of it all would have to be the Enchantments Division.

It was by far the largest division, with ties in almost all others, it handled anything involving Enchantments. And due to this, it had one of the most sought-after jobs in the world, be it the highly paid testers, or the prestigious Director role.

Oh how the nobles fought over the role, each expecting it to be hoofed over to them as their birthright. Bribes, backstabbing, smoke, mirrors, and years of planning all built around taking this role. Ever since Starswirl the Bearded founded the division, it was destined to be a role to be fought after in near cold-war like situations.

It was almost like something out of Shake Spear’s plays, when the title was given to a commoner with a dream. Given to a pony from a backwater town by the last director’s final act before retirement.

Years of planning, ruined as the nobles struggled to find a loophole to exploit. Each in uproar as they tried their damndest to keep it all from Celestia’s gaze, after all, she wouldn’t understand the birthrights of their own. With her gaze jaded by the commoner’s problems, and her mind clouded by mudpony-like ideals of equality.

But in the end, it was too late. The commoner unicorn had done it, and there was nothing they could do about it.

This commoner had no idea, even now as his sky blue eyes scanned through some of the paperwork that had made its way to his desk. Even as his dark, dull blue fur sat against the cold wooden chair of his office.

It was amusing to some, infuriating to others, to see the name ‘Arcane Quill’ cast into the bronze nameplate of the room. Its presence like a promise whispered in defiance to the underhoofed plays of politics.

‘Knock, knock.’

A pair of sharp knocks rung out through the night, rousing Arcane Quill from his work.

“C-come in.” He stuttered, his surprise at being interrupted at such a hour plaguing his voice. His dirty steel-grey mane being brushed out of his reading glasses as a nervous habit.

From the door, a lavender unicorn strode into the room. Her attitude as active as if it was the middle of the day, rather than the night. Her purple eyes stuck in a book even as she began to speak. “Professor Quill? I’ve found something I need your opinion on.”

“Ah. Yes. What would that be Twilight?” Arcane replied, leaning back into his chair. ‘Yep. She’s still a social hermit.’

“Have you heard of the ‘Mare in the Moon’?” Twilight asked bluntly, her eyes still glued to her book.

“I can’t say I have, why?” Arcane answered with a question of his own, not expecting an answer.

“Doesn’t matter. Good night.” She hastily replied, her interest in the other unicorn lost as his uselessness in this topic became evident. Waiting barely a second before she teleported out with a signature crack of time and space warping before her.

‘As tactless as ever it seems…’ Arcane sighed, telekinetically taking off his glasses to rub his eyes with a hoof. Turning his gaze to his room, he glanced over the piles of scrolls and books that crowded his generously large office. ‘Well, it was… before all this damned paperwork.’

Almost as if to heed its call, another crack of space-time heralded another pile of paperwork appearing on top of the ‘in’ box.

With a deeper sigh he turned back to his piles of work. His eyes catching on a red envelope half hidden by the sheer bulk of ink and parchment.

‘Oh? A letter? It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten anything other than paperwork… Well, work can wait. This’ll only take a moment.’ He shrugged, drawing it out of the pile and opening it with practiced ease.

From the envelope, a letter and a potion vial dropped out. The letter was unremarkable at first glance, being written in the flowing calligraphy typically associated with pegasi. The vial on the other hoof, was extremely odd.

Cast in thicker than average glass and stopped with a wooden stopper, it contained what looked like transparent molten gold. Its surface danced with optical illusions of fire that drew no fuel, and gas that didn’t ever build up.

‘Very interesting… I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like that before.’ Arcane thought before turning to the letter. ‘Maybe the letter will bring some light on this…’

Dear Arcane Quill,
Director of the Royal Canterlot Magical Research Department, Enchantments Division.
-
It’s been awhile, hasn't it? How long has it been again? Ten? Twenty-odd years? Ah, time really has slipped away from us.

I'm sure you haven't forgotten about your own brother, Steel Quill? You know, green pegasus? Just because you’ve run off to prissy Canterlot, doesn’t mean you can just forget about us back home. Heck, I’m sure Mum is still waiting for a letter from you.

Anyway, I found something. I’m not sure what it is, and it doesn’t like me for some reason, but I’m sure you can figure something out. Here’s hoping I attached it, it seems to have some sort of wallflower spell on it. Regardless, I've got important news for you.

It’s Mum and Dad, they're not well, and after they left each other a year or so ago, they’ve gotten ill. Really ill. The Docs are saying they aren't going to live long, and Mum’s went into the hospital. Dad should go as well, but he’s acting like his usual self. Stubborn old mule... You know how he gets sometimes. They say it's some sort of virus, eating their magic and whatever else it can find. I'm not even sure if they’ll be alive when this makes it to your desk.

I know Dad told you not to come back, but I think you should see Mum, one last time…
I hope this reaches you quickly, and I shall eagerly await your reply.

Kind regards,
- Steel Quill.

“I…” Arcane murmured, re-reading the letter just in case he had gotten it wrong the first time around. ‘No…’

‘I’m sure I’ve got enough holidays saved up for a quick trip… Now, where did I put my wallet?’ He rationalised to himself, summoning an old, dusty, briefcase with his magic.

In a nigh’ panicked rush, me began grabbing items from all around the room with his telekinesis as he dug through piles of stuff with his hooves. ‘Alright. That should be enough bits for a while, there’s my ID, my notepad should still be in the case…’

“Where did my necklace end up?” The blue unicorn murmured, casting a quick spell to aid in his frantic search. “There!”

Said necklace was an old trinket from long ago, a parting gift from his mother before he had left home. It was a double sided emblem brought together with a fine silver chain. With a wolf’s head cast in shining bronze, flanked by the head of an owl carved from an ancient redwood tree.

With a sigh, he paused momentarily to turn it over in his hooves, admiring it as he did all those years ago.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He whispered under his breath. “You were always there for me, even when Dad wasn’t…”

The metal shone in the candlelight as if it was giving an affirmation, a comforting coincidence found when one needed some certainty in their lives.

“Celestia damn it Dad…”

Author's Notes:

AN:
Wooo! The rewrite has landed!
Here's hoping this is better than the original. xD
Unfortunately, it's just as short as the original. But, if anyone cares to look at the other chapters, they are muuuch longer.
Sooo... yeah.

Thanks for sticking around! Trust me, the chapters get more interesting after this! It may take a bit, but it'll take off before the chapters get to double digits. :P

Chapter 1 (Edit 2) [MARKED FOR REWRITE]

{Chapter 1}
“I may not speak or act like a tyrant, but I have plenty of friends that are capable of doing so.” - Luna [Weapons_X, Monster is as Monster does, Chapter 18]

A room, not quite bare, but definitely not full. The walls seemed faded, and off to the side, a desk sat. In the middle, lain across a worn bed, was a pegasus. With tears in her eyes, she didn’t notice the visitor enter her room.

“Mum? Whats wrong? Where's Dad?” asked a small blue and grey unicorn colt, who had only recently gained a cutiemark of an old tome.

“I-I’m fine, my sweet, sweet little Arcane, Daddy's just gone to get something from the market.” replied a older mare. Her mane a neon green, and her coat a dark blue, similar to the small colt, her face was stained with tears, both dried and fresh. “W-Why don’t you go find your little brother?”

“Oh, okay. Let me know if you need anything Mum…” The colt said uncertainly before rushing out the door behind him. As he trotted forward, the hallway seemed darker than usual, turning a corner, he found his little brother in the family room. He was only younger than the colt by a few years, he had the wings of his mother and a coat as green as her hair. His mane on the other hoof, was a bright blue, many shades brighter than the fur of his brother.

He was always the more athletic of the two, while Arcane was fine to spend hours curled up with a good book, his brother was the polar opposite, he was seemingly unable to sit still, and never a fan of books. Even the good ones.

“Arcane?” Asked the green colt, turning to face his brother. “When am I going to get my cutiemark?”

Even after Arcane found his cutiemark, he still found it enjoyable to run around trying all sorts of random things. He just hopes that he’ll still be able to do it with his brother once he gets his cutiemark.

“I don’t know… How about we go try to find it Steel?” Arcane replied, as he donned a mask of false cheerfulness.

”Yay!” cried Steel, racing towards the backyard, ”I’ll go get the bows!”

With a slight chuckle, Arcane thought to himself, ‘Never change little Steel, never change…’

Suddenly, everything seemed to lose focus, and in the edge of his hearing, he heard a voice call out.

”Next stop, Whitetail Woods!”

“Ah! Wha?” Arcane Quill exclaimed sleepily, around him, what looks like a train cart, rushed across the countryside. There weren't many inhabitants inside of it, maybe ten at maximum. He shifted on the wooden bench he found himself sat upon.
Shaking away the last remnants of sleep, he looked out the window. Up ahead he could see a forest of sorts, ‘Probably the Whitetail woods, huh… I never expected to come home so soon…’

It wasn’t a popular town, but hidden in the branches of the forest, there was a small town, a bit smaller than Ponyville. It was surprising with the suddenness of the forest, with the plains stretched out all around it and the fact of there being little to no trees outside of the woods.

Ahead of the train, a small station became apparent, it was little more than a waiting bench and a ticket stand. This, was his destination.

‘I seem to remember it being bigger… I guess I’m too used to Canterlot.’ With a quick chuckle, Arcane reached under his seat to grab his suitcase. It’s dark brown case a reminder of the last time he came here. ‘I can’t believe it’s been seven years. It feels like it was just yesterday when I last saw Mother’s wonderful smile.’

The thought seemed to brighten the unicorn, if only slightly.

“Whitetail train station! All passengers for Whitetail, please make your way to the exits!” A voice cried, shattering the silence. Nopony moved, except for Arcane.

“I guess I’m the only one getting off.” He muttered, slightly amused. He exited the train at a brisk pace, be it from nervousness or excitement, it is uncertain, even to Arcane himself. Around him, the forest seemed deadly silent, the air only pierced by the train slowing making its way down the track. A desolate path stretched away from the ‘station,’ it was overgrown, bits and pieces of grass and other plant matter had made it’s home on this path.

“Just as I remember it. Alright, let’s do it. It’s only family. Not that bad.” He stammered to himself, “The train’s gone, I can’t stay here… I can only move on…”

“Damnit.” Arcane sighed, as the slowly made his way down the path.

After a good chunk of time, the blue stallion arrived at the town. From his perspective, he could see the few buildings that make up the town. It was the sort of town that everypony knew everypony else.
The town hall was situated in the middle, whilst a small residential district sat to the left of it. To the right, was a few shops and the ‘hospital.’ If you could even call it that, it was quite small, enough to only fit a small chemist and around three doctors.

‘Heh, I wonder if Caringhoof still works there… He was always good at his job.’ He thought as he reminisced in all of the times he would get busted up and forced see the doctor. ‘It’s surprising really, despite his name, he was always an old grump.’

Trotting down the path, he noticed that they had put up an entrance sign. ‘Welcome to Brismane!’ it was quite rickety, but, fortunately, still readable.

‘Well… now that I think about it, I guess it would be unfortunate.’ Turning, he spotted a greenish stallion sitting near the outskirts of the town. He looked like he was waiting for somepony. Or maybe somebody? The figure was quite lean, but his muscles seemed quite strong. From this distance, Arcane noticed that the figure had a pair of wings folded up on his sides. His mane was an almost neon blue, and at his hooves, Arcane saw a green duffle bag.

‘Is that…? Steel? What’s he doing waiting over there? I didn’t send a letter ahead of me…’ With a question on his mind, Arcane made his way over to his brother.

“I’d say I’m surprised to see you here, but I think you know better.” Steel Quill began as Arcane approached, “So, how was your trip?”

“Could be better.” Arcane replied with a shrug, “how have you been all these years?”

“Could’ve been better.” Steel shot back with a smirk, “I didn’t even hear why you left, Mum’s been quiet about it, and I haven't seen Dad long enough to ask. All I know is that you left in the dead of night.”

“Mmmm? How did you find out about that? I expected them to say that I left as the sun rose.”

“That is what they said, but I do remember seeing an egghead running off around seven years ago, right when he thought everypony else was asleep.” Steel remarked with a chuckle, “stealth was never your area of expertise.”

“Huh, I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

“You can try.”

The awkward silence once more came out to play, as the two brothers sat there, just outside of town. High above them all, the moon quickly raised towards the sun, and with it, the thousandth year had finally arrived. The chilling wind rushed through the forest, almost like the whispers of fear the residents of Equestria where muttering.

“The buck? Whats up with the moon?” Steel crudely questioned, as he pointed to the moon with his wing,

“That shouldn’t be happening… Ummm… shit.” Arcane replied, shrugging once again “I… A.... I’ve got nothing.”

“Ah. I guess the world is ending.” Steel stated with a thousand mile stare, “Damn.”

“I… Did not expect this.” Arcane stammered as the moon covered the sun entirely.

“Imma just sit here.” Steel said as he brought down his wing. “If the world is ending, I’m going to sit in my favorite spot. Right here.”

“Okay.” Arcane replied, “Who knows? Maybe somepony just got the princess drunk or something.”

The sounds of laughter now dominated the once silent hill. This did little to calm the residents of Brismane, they may be a resilient bunch, but this was well out of their league. The local authorities were able to halt any riots or looting, but general unease and panic still ran rampant.

As the hours slowly ticked by, the only ones that seemed calm were the two stallions on the hill. But even then, ‘calm’ is a relative term.

“What's been happening to you the last couple years?” Steel asked his blue-screening brother,

“I-Is this really the time to talk about that?” Arcane stammered back,

“Well, we’re not doing much else are we?”

“True, true…” Arcane replied, before letting silence play its corse.

“Well?”

“Ah, yeah. The last couple years I’ve been working in Canterlot, at the moment, I’m the head of an R and D branch.” He said with a faint smile, “other than that, I’ve just been continuing my studies of old magic. How about you?”

“I’ve been here. After this baby appeared,” He explained, flashing his crossbow cutiemark, “I enlisted in the local militia, and I’ve been keeping this place safe.”

“It’s still hard to think that you’re only nineteen. I’m… sorry that I wasn’t here for that…” Arcane apologized, it only now, truly, dawning on him how long he was gone.

“Eh, no biggie. I’m sure you had your reasons. So… You got a fillyfriend yet?”

“Wha-! N-no! Yes? Maybe!” He stammered, “I expected this from Mum, not you!”

“Come ooooon! Tell meeee!” Steel begged playfully.

“N-no! I don’t. I’ve been too busy.”

“Awwww…” Steel signed with exaggerated disappointment. Suddenly, he perked up, “So, when do you think the sun will be fixed?”

To which his brother answered with an exaggerated, and almost comical, shrug. Almost as if the universe heard them, the moon returned to its normal position.

“Huh, it’s fixed.” Arcane monotonically stated, “We should probably go find Mum. And maybe Dad…”

“Yeah… we should. Come on, let’s go.”

The two brothers stood before an old log cabin, it was of moderate size, not too big, not too small. Out the front, there was a porch with an old rocking chair and a few pot plants scattered across the beams. A few roses, a violet or two, rosemary and some lavender. It was peaceful, to say the least.

“Hey, Steel? Would you mind if I go talk to her first? I… just want a moment. It’s been a long time.” Arcane asked, a slight sorrowful look on his face.

“It’s cool, I’ll give you a moment.” Steel replied.

“Thanks.”

With a steadying breath, Arcane walked up to the door, ‘It’ll be fine, it’s just family, she’ll forgive me.’

Steeling his resolve, he knocked on the log door. With a creak, it opened, ’What? Well.. that’s not creepy at all…’

Despite his better judgement, he trotted into the house. Picture frames lined the entrance, a coat rack sat next to the door, there was quite a few coats on it. Most prominently, there was familiar denim jacket lined with wool. ’Dad? What's he doing here?’

With the question on his mind, he made his way down to the kitchen. From memory, it was quite modest, the most expensive item in it was an old ice box. But even then, it was decently cheap.As he made his way into the kitchen, he noticed something embedded in a beam above him.

“Wait…” He muttered as the summoned a light. With the magic torch, he revealed a hatchet of sorts. There was only a handle visible, as the blade seemed to be stuck deep inside the beam.

“Ahhh… okay? That's… interesting.” Continuing on, Arcane noticed that the candles were either quite low or missing altogether. “Mum? Are you here?”

He called out, concerned. Turning down another hallway, ahead of him, he saw an old stallion crouched over... something.

‘Drip’ The sound of something dripping off whatever the stallion had in his magic echoed around the hallway.

‘Drip’ The candlelight was unable to reach whatever it was, but Arcane was able to make a pretty good guess, judging from the puddle of… red, under the figure.

‘Drip’ The figure turned, the gray fur of its hoof was the only thing clearly visible.

“You shouldn’t of come back colt.” The stallion scolded, his voice gravelly and cold. “When I disown something, it doesn’t come back.”

‘Drip’ Its eyes, with its deep orange tinge, bored into the blue unicorn.

“Wh-what did you do? W-where's Mum?” Arcane stammered, fear prominent in his eyes.

‘Drip’ This time, the noise wasn’t from the grayed stallion, but from a tear falling from the eye of Arcane Quill.

“Same place you're going to!” The stallion yelled as the lunged towards Arcane, what looks like a kitchen knife in his magical grip shining in the candlelight. Time seemed to freeze as the knife danced across the air, gliding towards its target. Its blade, covered in red and bits of fur seemed to move at a snail’s pace.

’Thud!’ A cold feeling gripped Arcane’s heart. He looked down to his chest where the knife found its new home.

‘Drip’ The seconds ticked by, as the floor came up to greet its old friend.

And the darkness got to him first.

Author's Notes:

{Update: More edits}
{Update 2: Formatting!}
Well, here we are again.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, The next one will be longer, I promise.
If you've got any comments/suggestions/questions/other just shoot me a comment down below, I read all of them. Even if there is only one at this point in time.

Weapon's EN:
Eric has learned well, I don't even know whether Arcane survives. Personallly, my money is on a viral intervention but that's just a guess.

Chapter 2 (Edit 3) [MARKED FOR REWRITE]

{Chapter 2}
“Eric, you become quotable from life experience. See and do shit if you want to say shit.”
Dapper Skellington (Militia Man) [05/28/2017]

White.

Blinding white.

Pain.

Burning pain.

“Where am I?” A bloodied blue and grey unicorn stallion asked. Looking around a environment of… white as far as the eye can see.

Clutching his chest, were an open wound lay, bleeding profusely. He walked forward, not quite sure where he was going.

“Hello? Is anypony there?” He cried out, but in the end, it was futile.

From the edges of his… world, he noticed some sort of darkness, slowly creeping forward. The white seemed duller now, and now, he saw that it seemed to be a tunnel of sorts. The only directions being available to him being forward and back.

With a lack of a better option, he pressed forward. His memory seemed fuzzy, he could barely remember who he was. His name seemed… lost. Yet, he could remember a… being, a shadow that caused pain to him… blinding pain.

The landscape seemed to get smaller, the shadows grew, if only just. Yet, every time he glanced at them, they pulled back. Were they afraid? Or were they never there in the first place?

Banishing those thoughts, he pushed forward. Unsure of why, only feeling a sense of… urgency, not quite panic, but still enough to keep him moving.

Was this reality? It seemed too real, yet he could remember, if only faintly, a different existence. One were, he meant something. An existence of... pain. With a… break near the end. A time, of… urgency, and reason. A time, without pain.

But, still a time with the… shadow.

‘What is it? Why can’t I remember?’

These questions plagued the his mind as he walked... And walked…

Minutes stretched into hours, hours into days. Yet, he never grew weary, time seemed be quite fickle in this place. Ever changing, ever evolving, ever… stretching…

One hoof in front of the the other.

Walking…

Walking…

The shadows ever stretching, ever growing. Becoming more… Bold… more resilient to his gaze. Until a world the size of a hoofball field was little more than a narrow corridor.

Yet he kept walking.

Walking…

Walking…

He started to remember more, yet even his name remained a mystery.

His only purpose seemed to be walking…

Ever onwards…

Away from the darkness…

From the unknown…

Doubt…

Was there a reason?

To why he walked?

Maybe.

The darkness was close.

So close…

Too close…

Whispers emanated from them. Promises of… love… of power… of freedom…

Tempting…

Oh so tempting…

Yet not tempting enough. He kept walking. With each step, another part of himself seemed a fade away.

Soon…

He was little more than a… thing… running away from the darkness.

Shapeless…

Formless…

Nameless…

Soon…

He cannot think too long…

He felt slower…

Dumber…

Pain…

The only constant in this wasteland of endless dark.

Fear…

Growing… festering…

Burning away hope…

Only walking remained…

Pain…

Pain…

Pain…

Pain!

There is only darkness…

No light…

He was gone…

He became It.

It has nothing left…

Only walking…

And pain…

And yet, It is losing momentum…

What was a canter...

Changed to a trot…

To a crawl…

Almost stopped…

Dragging It’s formless mass onward…

It cannot continue…

It…

Gives…

Up….

And is consumed by the darkness… Now nothing is left…. Barely a memory….

Slowing burning up.

Darkness… growing, festering, groaning…

A small spark, drifting through the endless void, slowly dissolving. Ever so slowly…

‘No…’

Not strong enough to withstand the void…

‘No…’

Too weak… Too frail….

‘No…’

But yet… it stubbornly holds onto life. If only just.

‘NO!’

A flash of bright white, banishing the darkness to the edges of this plane. The spark, growing, maturing… Changing.

The light hasn’t left this world. Not yet at least.

‘Beep’

‘Beep’

Pain. Once again the blue furred stallion returned to this world.
Opening his eyes, he is greeted with the sight of a hospital room. That, unlike the one in Brismane, seemed to be quite well equipped. To his left, a heart monitor played it’s seemingly endless tune.

‘Beep’

Turning his gaze down, his chest lay covered in bandages, with blood lightly staining them. Deep within them, the pain, burning relentlessly sat, not quite dormant.

‘Beep’

To his right, Arcane noticed a sleeping form. Not one of shadows, but one of green. A pegasus, in fact.

‘Beep’

Yet, the hospitalized unicorn felt a great sense of unease. The figure… it wants to finish the job. He could feel the hatred burning from it, even though his fuzzy memories. He should run, yet he cannot. He is restrained to this Celestia-Forsaken bed, and he wouldn’t be able to fight it if it came back…

‘Beep’

Fear, like a cornered animal. He raked the room for something, anything, that could help free him.
In his panicked state, Arcane didn’t notice his brother awakening.

‘Beep, beep’

He didn’t notice when Steel started talking to him.

‘Beep, beep, beep’

He didn't notice the doctors coming in.

‘BeepBeepBeepBeep’

He didn’t notice them putting him under.

Interviewer: State your name, rank, and post.

S.Q: Steel Quill, Corporal, Brismane.

I: Where were you at --:-- AM, on ----/----/----?

S.Q: I had cashed in my shore leave to welcome my brother back to town. It-

I: On file, it states that you were using it to visit your bedridden mother. Is that correct?

S.Q: Yes, my brother came down from Canterlot to do the same. So, I decided to go with him. I ha-

I: You said you went with him, yet on your report, he was alone when he was attacked. Please explain.

S.Q: After meeting up with him, we went to my Mother’s house. He asked for me to wait outside, something about him needing a moment.

I: At what time did you know something was wrong?

S.Q: About five minutes after he went in, I went in after him. As I was going through the house, most of the candles were quite low, casting the whole place in into shadows. I was concerned at the time, but, it wouldn’t be the first time Mum forgot to restock em’.

I: Yes, go on.

S.Q: After a bit, I heard a shout, and a thud… once I got to Arcane… the attacker had… offed himself.

I: Do you know who the attacker was? I know that on your report you avoided the question.

S.Q: He… H-he was my father.

I: Ah… I’ll give you a moment.

S.Q: A-alright, I’m good.

I: Mmmmm, now, who is your brother?

S.Q: He’s Arcan-

I: Not like that, I mean, his personality, when was the last time you saw him, etc.

S.Q: Ah. The last time I saw him was about seven years ago… Him and Dad never saw eye to eye. I was quite young, so I’m not sure what was happening in the background but, after one of their… worse, arguments. Arcane just… got up and left. In the dead of night, and well… I didn’t see him again.

I: Did they have these arguments often?

S.Q: Yes, almost daily. Thankfully, after the divorce, we only saw him twice every fortnight. But even then… It wasn’t uncommon for him to come home with marks.

I: If there were marks, wouldn’t Ms. Quill have done something?

S.Q: It wasn’t that type of mark… The body heals quickly, the mind on the other hoof…

I: Mmmmm… What of your mother, any reason why she would be murdered?

S.Q: The report states that she is recovering in hospital.

I: Unfortunately, that is outdated. It has been confirmed that she died only a couple hours ago.

S.Q: I see…

I: We shall continue that at another time. You are dismissed.

The room around the pegasus lain bare. The only item within was a cast iron bench, which he was currently sat upon. Around him, gray walls gave the de-briefing room an eerie feel.

It was only him now, his mother, his father, gone. His brother, never the same.

What was the point? After Arcane gets back on his hooves, he’s still not going to have anywhere to go. ‘I guess nopony wants an employee with PTSD. At least, not when ninety-nine percent of the worker pool is fine.’

Bringing a letter out of his saddle bags, he once again skimmed through it. While it was a lot of words saying very little, the long and the short of it was: Arcane is fired due to suspected mental instability. Unfortunately, when one gets fired from such a highly esteemed position, nopony is going to hire you. So unless you fancy being a garbage handler, you’re going to have a bad time.

“Buck…” He sighed, planting his hooves into his face. If there was ever a time to cry, it was now. After but a few moments, the room was filled with the sound of muffled sobbing.

Time passed, and before he knew it, night had fallen. Brushing off his face, Steel started to make his way over to Canterlot’s resident hospital. Due to it residing in the capital, it was quite well equipped to deal with Arcane’s physical injuries, his psychological ones, on the other hoof, would take quite some time to fade.

As Steel trotted into the waiting room, his thoughts drifted over what he could’ve done.

‘Shouldnt've let him go in on his own… I should’ve known something was up with Dad…’ He sorrowfully mused.

“Dad… I’m not sure I can even call him that.” He hissed, his tone thick with venom. Before he could continue his line of thought, he was brought out of his musings by a voice.

“What was that sir?” Asked the receptionist, slightly confused.

“Nothing, I’m here to see Arcane Quill.” Steel replied, slightly embarrassed that she had overheard his comment.

“Ah, public visiting times are over, so unless you are close family, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m his brother, Steel Quill.”

“Alright, he is in room 125, in the west wing, please be quiet though, he needs his sleep.”

“I will,” he assured, as he began to walk up the stairs.

The whole building seemed to be a sterilized white. Turning a corner? White. Open a door? White. Etc.

‘Urrg, I’m getting sick of white. When I get home, I’m repainting.’ He thought to himself, half-jokingly. He banished these thoughts as he entered room 125.

Laying on the bed, a sleeping form of Arcane Quill sat. The rest of the room was quite bare, aside from a heart monitor, a desk and chair, the bed, and the IV, it was empty. ‘Well, I am the first to visit. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.’

Pulling up the chair, he sat at the foot of the bed. And for the next hour, he sat in silence.

“I guess this is how I’m spending my days off… Heh, wouldn’t have it any other way.” He chuckled, “Well, I’m not sure if you can hear me, but, I’ve gotten a letter from your job.”

With a drawn out sigh, he continued, “They’re letting you go. And, to top it all of, Mum’s gone… buck… a right fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into huh? I’m not sure what I can do, so, tomorrow I’m going to pack up your stuff and move it to my house. I sorry, I just can’t afford the rent on your place. And, now, you can’t either…”

Resting his head on the bed, he gazed into the nothingness that is neither here, nor there.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess…” and with this final comment, he drifted to sleep alongside his big brother.

’Beep, Beep!’

Steel was ripped out of his dreams by the sound of the heart monitor (metaphorically) losing its shit.

“Mmmehhh? Whaddo ya’ want?” Steel sleepily asked, just a little irritated at being woken up. Raising his head, he noticed Arcane’s eyes were reduced to pin pricks. “You alright?”

Arcane’s eye flashed around the room, searching for… something. His horn giving a few faint frizzles around the inhibitor ring, thankfully, the straps holding him down stayed strong. For a split second, Steel swore he could see some sort of bluish mist leaking from his brother’s eyes. But, as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared.

’BeepBeepBeep!’

‘I think I know what they mean by ‘waking up distressed’ now...’ Putting a hoof on Arcane’s torso, Steel tried to calm the panicking stallion. “Come on, it’s alright. You’re in the hospital, try to calm down.”

Before he could do much more, a doctor rushed in through the door and pulled Steel off to the side.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to leave. We can handle this.” The mare said, as another doctor came in with a needle filled with some sort of sedative.

“A-alright. I’ll be in the waiting room.” Steel sighed, before making his way out the door.

’Arrrg… I feel so useless… there must be something I could do… I'd be happy with anything at this point!’

He paused, seemingly waiting for something.

’Huh… I was hoping that would work. Heh, I guess I'll have to do it the hard way.’

[colour=#6aaabb]“That you will…”[/colour] A voice muttered, it sounded ‘wispy’, and it seemed to be double layered.

“Wha-!? Who's there?!” Steel cried out, glancing about the seemingly empty hallway.

The raked his eyes, for whatever had been talking. He was unable to find anypony, but he noticed a faint blue mist of sorts. It seemed to… draw his eyes away. It was so… normal. Painfully so.

After he glanced away, Steel seemed to have forgotten something… something out of place… something… unimportant.

Banishing his unimportant thoughts, he continued onwards. And he could almost hear a faint sigh… it tasted blue for some reason.

’Drip…’

The same memory…

’Drip…’

Over, and over… Never ending…

’Drip…’

He couldn’t bare to look…

’Drip...’

But he couldn’t look away…

’Drip...’

Maybe this will be the last time…

’Drip...’

Maybe not…

’Drip...’

The pain… it’s unbearable…

’Drip...’

‘Why won’t it stop? Why won’t He leave me alone?’

’Drip...’

These thoughts… they wouldn’t leave him…

’Drip...’

It was just like it happened. The wooden walls… Him standing above Arcane with a cruel smile…

’Drip...’

But this time… There isn’t any darkness to save him… it was all too vivid.

’Drip...’

And the blood… it was everywhere… the carpet… you couldn’t even see it anymore.

’Drip...’

Arcane was right next to the Pegasus… it looked awfully familiar. Almost like his Mum… but that would be crazy… his Mum is fine… Right?

’Drip...’

He couldn’t feel anything except the pain…

’Drip...’

“P-please… ki-kill m-meee... “ Arcane pleaded through the blinding pain.

’Drip...’

He received no response.

’Drip...’

The pain slowly started receding. And the world started to lose its focus.

’Thud!’

The first couple hours were painful, but that is just normal waking up. After that, Arcane was aware enough to call for a nurse.

’Hopefully this won’t be too painful of a discussion…’ he thought as the door swung open.

A mare came in, her fur a light brown, and her mane a sweet hazel. With the normal nurse get up, see was quite a sight, even without a horn or wings, and she seemed quite surprised that the unicorn was awake.

“Did you need something, sir?” She asked sweetly,

“Uhhh, yes, umm, I was wondering how long I was out? And if I could get the newspaper.” Arcane replied, stumbling over his words just a little.

“Ah, You were out for a couple days. I’ll get a paper, give me a moment please.”

“S-sure…” Arcane stammered, shocked with how long he was asleep for.

The nurse left with a little bit of a hurry, Arcane wasn’t sure why, but hay, it didn’t concern him. Gazing around the room, he notice a few things that he missed when he was… panicking. First and foremost, he had a nullifying ring around his horn.
‘Ummm… alright? I guess I was having some pretty bad fits…’ drifting down his body, he noticed that his necklace was missing, ‘T-that’s fine… they’ll have just taken it off for examinations, yeah, that’s it. W-we’re all good, e-everything is fine…’

It had only taken a minute at most, but, the nurse returned with the requested newspaper. As she trotted up to Arcane, he could, just, read the main headline.

‘WAR ON THE HORIZONS! PRINCESS LUNA INITIATES A CALL TO ARMS!’ It stated in big, bold letters, under it there seemed to be a picture of a dark princess addressing the masses atop a marble balcony.

“What? Who’s that? Last time I checked, there was only one alicorn.” He asked with a slight bit of humor.

“Mmmm? Oh! you mean Princess Luna.” She replied happily, “She was recently reformed after trying to ‘bring about eternal night’, apparently she’s Celestia’s sister.” She said with a slight smile, “A lot has happened while you were out.”

“I can see that...” Arcane admitted, baffled.

“I’ll leave you to your reading, and, now that you’re up, I’ll get these restraints off you.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He was quite happy about not needing to ask, and he was starting to get an itch on the small of his back. ‘Why do these things happen whenever I can’t get to it?’

It was a little bit of a struggle, but soon enough, Arcane was free. Leaving only the horn ring.

“One moment, let me get that for you.” She said, sweetly.

With a quick tap and twist, the ring split in half, Freeing the unicorn’s magic. The feeling was quite strange, almost like having the blood flow back into a disconnected limb, yet… different. His blood seemed to… sizzle and tingle. Almost like somepony had filled it with pop rocks.

“Thanks for that, but I’ve got a question. When I was… attacked, I had a necklace on. Do you know what happened to it?” He asked as he tested his magic on the newspaper, lifting it up and down.

“You were quite lucky to have had that on, it had slowed the knife down enough to have saved you. Without it, you’d probably be six feet under.” Arcane’s magic cut out.

“S-so, it’s…”

“Destroyed, I’m not quite sure what happened to it, but it’s gone.” He began to feel a hole in his heart, growing ever so slowly.

“B-but it was part metal, h-how…”

“I’m not quite sure myself, but… let’s just say the knife was heavy duty. Enchantments and all.” It was gone, wasn’t it? The last gift of his mother.

“A-ah… Ummm… A-alright. That’s fine…”

“Alright sir, I need to get back to work, but I’ll only be a call away.”

“S-sure…” he stammered, his eyes unfocused.

‘Come on Arcane! Pull yourself together! It’s not like Mum’s dead or anything. It’s just a trinket, it is worth less than your life.’ He mentally scolded himself. ‘-Sigh-I can still remember when I got it…’

This was it, the straw that broke the camel's back. Outside a familiar cabin, a blue furred stallion had gathered his meager belongings into his saddlebags. A book and quill, ink, parchment, and what little bits he had.

‘Enough for a train ride, maybe enough for a hotel room…’ It wasn’t much, by anyone’s standards, but Arcane would make do. Steeling his resolve, he started down the path, he couldn’t go back, he was disowned. He wasn’t sure why he was, but, it is what it is. ‘I guess it was one disappointment too many… Maybe I forgot to do something? Or was I too submissive? Nah, dad’s ego is too big for that to be a problem.’

The unicorn was unsure of his feelings about the subject. On one hoof, he was sad, he’ll most likely never see his parents ever again. Well, only if his Father had any say on it. Arcane couldn’t even remember when he had seen his Father happy, it was always… disappointment, or anger… sometimes both. On the other hoof, he’ll never have to deal with Mr Quill.

That was who he was. Arcane couldn’t even remember what his name was, he was always ‘Sir’, or ‘Mr Quill’. Never ‘Dad’, or ‘Father’. The last time Arcane called him that, he couldn’t sit down for a month…

‘I must just be a mistake for him…’ Arcane sighed, ‘Steel though… he was always perfect… following in Mr Quill’s hoofsteps. Athletic… strong… not me…’

The blue stallion felt like he should be… envious, angry, or… something. But… he couldn’t. His brother was always good to him, slipping spare food to him when he was being ‘punished’.

‘Damn… I’m going to miss him…’

After a few minutes of trotting, the resident mailmare caught up with him.

“A package for an Arcane Quill!” She called out, grabbing the stallion’s attention.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He replied, unsure on why he was getting mail. ‘And today of all days…’

“Here you go, priority shipment.” She said, passing a small brown envelope.

“Ummm… thanks?” He offered, but, the mailmare was already gone. Turning his attention to the envelope, he noticed it was from his Mother. It was a small thing, but Arcane could make out a decently large bulge near one of the corners.

Opening it, he pulled out a note and a necklace. The note was brief, but heartwarming.

‘To my lovely foal,

May you hold this close to your heart, and remember that I have never left you.

Love,
Swift Quill

The necklace was double sided, on one side, an iron wolf stood proud, and the other, a wise wooden owl. It was well made, with a brass border surrounding it, and some small carvings around it. Arcane could almost feel a… spiritual connection to it. It made him feel… safe, loved, and most of all… happy. Not quite enough to make him happy about being disowned, but at least it made him feel a little better about it.

Grabbing the light brown chain, he lifted it over his head with a faint smile. After a moment to admire it, he continued on with his trek, the gravel path to the train ‘station’, slowly but surely getting closer.

He was so focused he didn’t notice a blue mist rising from the necklace…

[colour=#6aaabb]“Come on… look away from the window…”[/colour]

The blue mist floated outside the window, shapeless… formless… yet unnoticed. It seemed to have a goal, a sense of urgency. But, it is really there? If something is unnoticed by all, does it exist? If it doesn’t know where it came from, if it doesn’t know if it exists, how can anyone else know?

These are the questions of it’s ever existence. With only a goal, nothing more, it happens. Is it real? Not quite, does it exist? Maybe. What is its goal? Unknown, with only a ‘pull’ to guide it, it follows its goal.

Why should it follow? Why should it listen to the ‘pull’? These questions are unimportant. Unimportant things are ignored. That is its way of life.

The mist shudders, [colour=#6aaabb]“Focus! I can’t fall into that… trap, again. I exist! And I choose to follow the pull.”[/colour] With new resolve it slid between the cracks of the windowsill.

In the room, it quickly hid into the shadows, it had come too far to fail now. Years upon years of work will come into fruition. [colour=#6aaabb]“But… when I think about it like that…”[/colour]

[colour=#6aaabb]“It seems a bit… evil… am I evil? Is it wrong to follow the pull?”[/colour]

[colour=#6aaabb]”No… I’m just fulfilling my purpose. Right?”[/colour]

‘This is going to be horrid… Buck.’

Standing at the frame of Arcane’s Hospital room, a pegasus stallion stood, trying to work up the courage to talk to his older brother. After a letter informing him of Arcane becoming… stable. Steel had almost literally dropped everything to see him, but at the door he had lost almost all of his resolve.

‘I’m going to have to tell him about mum, won't I?... M’kay… This is going be be absolutely horrible.’ He admitted with a shaky sigh, ‘Alright! Let’s get this over with!’

Before he could think of backing down (Again), he entered the room. The first thing he noticed was that Arcane had gotten free from his restraints and was… Writing a book? When did that happen?

“When did you start writing a book?” Steel asked, disregarding the need of a greeting.

“Awhile ago. But it’s not really a book, it’s more of a research journal.” Arcane replied, barely looking up from his work.

“Riiight. What are you writing about?”

“Pre-discordian magic.”

“And that is?”

With a heavy sigh, Arcane explained. “You know, Runes.”

After noticing his brother’s blank expression he continued, “The more reliable and permanent version of enchantments? That magic that everypony can use? Even dumbasses like you?”

“H-hey!” Steel stammered,

“I’m kidding. You wouldn’t be able to use it.” Arcane replied, earning a glare from the pegasus. Silence reigned for but a moment before the brothers burst out laughing.

“Ah, I’ve missed you.” Steel stated as he lifted his hoof for a brohoof.

“And I, you.” Arcane replied as he bumped his hoof on Steel’s. “Though, I expected Mum to see me first.”

“Y-yeah…” Steel agreed with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did something happen?” He asked, with what little naïvety he had left.

“Y-yeah, ummm, Mum was… with you, when… y-you-know-what happened… A-and she…” Steel’s voice cracked, and fell away like old porcelain. He took a shaken breath.

“She...didn’t make it…”

Steel could almost hear Arcane’s world shattering. He could almost feel the icy grip of despair around Arcane’s heart. Almost…

The air seemed to drop a few degrees, and Arcane’s magical aura seemed to crackle with energy, only just held at bay. Rage emanated from his diplomatically neutral expression.

The unicorn slammed his book shut and magicked his writing instruments onto the table, raising from his bed, he slowing made his way over to the window.

“I need some time to think.” Arcane stated plainly, “Alone.”

“A-alright, I’ll go…” Steel stammered, unsure of why his brother was so… cold all of a sudden. Walking out, he closed the door and made his way down the corridor.

“I hate it when I’m right…”

Arcane’s thoughts were a mess, some were of anger, others, of depression. Year upon years of missed memories, lost. Years of love and companionship, destroyed. All because of Him.

He just couldn’t let Arcane be happy. He wouldn’t leave Arcane alone. Even in death, He still haunts him.

Outside the window, ponies enjoyed their lives. Oblivious to the blue stallion’s troubles. The stallion with a list of troubles that would make put a purple-smart to shame. Be it his… interesting demeanor, his mood issues, his inherited depression, or his tact.

Turning to his suitcase, he levitated a small packet. Inside, a gift from his brother laid, waiting. The golden liquid that burned eternally. The liquid that either took up all of his thoughts, or would never cross his mind.

Alone, it bugged him, it called to him.

But, when he was with Steel, it was silent.

‘Strange… very strange…’ Arcane thought to himself, turning it over in his magical grip. The temptation to down it all… it was strong, almost like it was pulling him towards it. The air around it seemed to almost shimmer. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen, but it was a distraction, and that is what Arcane needed. Something to keep his mind away from… Him.

Pulling his book to him, he scanned through it.

‘Protection? No… light? That wouldn’t work… mending? Why would I need that? Mmmm…. What about this?’

With an engraving kit from his suitcase, Arcane carved a… thing on the glass container surrounding the liquid. To the uneducated, it looked like a mess of lines around a dot.

‘That’ll do it. Now let’s see…’ Moving back, he drew a few more lines and dots on a piece of parchment.

Placing the liquid at the exposed dot, the lines on both the parchment and the glass glowed a brilliant blue. To a point where it was painful to look at, “Oh shit! That’s not good!”

Jumping back, Arcane ran to the door, with the book trailing behind him. “BuckBuckBuckBuckBuckBuck! NOOOPE!”

Jumping out the door and slamming it behind him, Arcane’s vision was filled with a bright white light.

“Pffftt….” The runes fizzled out.

“Well… That was anti-climatic...” He said, half disappointed that it didn’t explode or something.

”BOOM!” The door was pulled off it’s hinges as it was blasted down the hall, almost taking out a terrified nurse. The sounds of crackling flames emanated from the room, as smoke billowed out of the frame the door had (previously) occupied.

“Shit. There goes…” Pausing to do the calculations, Arcane sighed. “All of my savings.”

Author's Notes:

{Update: Got some minor edits done.}
{Update Update: Got even more edits done. Fixed some formatting issues.}
{Update (Again): Fixed the links.}
Well. Here it is.
I told you it would be longer,
And now, we've got some plot development, hehehehehe.
This is gonna be fun.

EDIT: Sooo... there was going to be some images of the runes, but I seem to be having issues with uploading them. So if you want to see em' PM me and I'll see what I can do.

Weapons' EN: I was half right, so there's that. This chapter hit a little close to home for me, considering my military background, but I'd say it turned out really well. I hope you all are enjoying this adventure as much as we are.

Chapter 3 (Edit: 1) [MARKED FOR REWRITE]

{Chapter 3}
“If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.”
- Regina Brett

As to be expected, the hospital staff were… displeased to say the least. After a long lecture on why that was a bad idea, he was deemed ‘recovered’, and Arcane was discharged from the Brismane hospital.

“Celestia damn it Arcane! You had one job!” Yelled a, now slightly red, pegasus, who had greeted him out the front of Whitetail woods’ first, and only, medical establishment.

“I was just trying out something!” Arcane defended as he trotted alongside his brother.

“And that was?” Steel inquired, not even bothering to hide his anger.

“I… can’t remember…” Arcane admitted, it seemed to have… slipped his mind. Leaving only a void in his memory. “All I can remember was that it was important.”

“Really? That’s your excuse?” The green stallion asked, disbelievingly.

“Yeah… it’s like it just… disappeared.” A warmth spread from… something, in his saddlebags. Yet, it did little to grab the scholar's attention.

“If you say so…” An awkward silence drifted through them, as they continued walking towards the pegasus’s home. It was modest, two bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. Out the front, a small garden filled with lavender, rosemary, and other herbs.

“Home sweet home.” Steel murmured, as he walked up the garden path, towards the wooden door.

With a click, the door swung open, inside a pile of boxes sat in the living room. On the sides, a few labels had made their home on the cardboard. A few jumped out at the blue unicorn, ‘Living room’ ‘Books’ ‘Study’ and finally ‘Nerd crap.’

“Huh? You’re coming over to the nerd side?” Arcane asked, slightly confused. ‘Nerdy’ was not something Steel could be described as. ‘Geek’ maybe, but not nerdy.

“Mmm? Na, that’s your stuff.” Steel stated plainly, as he made himself a sandwich.

“And why is my stuff in your house?” Arcane inquired, as he started digging around the book box.

“Well, I can’t afford the rent on your place. And your office was… evicted.” Steel nervously muttered,

“Why? I still have to work, I’m not fired or anything… right?”

“Didn’t the docs tell you? They don’t want you anymore.” Steel said, his voice confused and laced with slight sadness. “I gave them the letter and everything. They said they’d pass it on to you.”

“Well… That’s… disappointing. I’m just… going to put my stuff away.” Grabbing the boxes in his magic. He looked over to his brother, who seemed to being having some trouble dealing with this… situation.

“Alright, your room is the one on the left. Let me know if you need anything.” With but a sound, Arcane started moving towards his room. The carpeted floor muffling his hoofsteps, the only sound being from his magic, and whatever Steel was doing in the kitchen.

Opening the door to his room, Arcane took note of the furnishings. There was little, but there was a medium bed settled in the top left corner, with a small bedside table. To his right, a decently sized bookshelf was snuggled next to a desk and chair. Other than that, there was a built in wardrobe in the top right corner of the room.

Placing the boxes in his room, Arcane began the tedious task of unpacking. Starting off with his saddlebags, he pulled out his runic book and placed in on the shelf.

‘I don’t need to blow up my brother’s house today… Not sure about tomorrow though.’ The stallion thought to himself with a slight chuckle.

Next, he moved… it. Being careful to only touch the glass with his magic, he placed to golden liquid’s container on the bedside table. ‘Last time, it was able to overload the runes… granted, they weren’t the most powerful, that is still… concerning.’

Resisting the urge to ‘test the buck out of it,’ Arcane moved onto the rest of his stuff.

There wasn’t much of interest, other than the odd Pre-Discordian text, it was mainly little trinkets that he had collected over the years. Yet, the book shelf filled quickly, despite the efforts of space, there was a few that had to take up a temporary home on the bedside table.

“Alright. I think that’s everything…” He murmured to himself, as he stood, awkwardly, in the middle of the room. “What now?”

Arcane’s thoughts drifted to the liquid, but, not the one of gold, instead he thought about the godly elixir known as coffee.

“Well, that’s a plan.” He admitted as he walked out to the kitchen, the lack of a certain pegasus had made itself prominent as Arcane searched fruitlessly for the holy liquid.

“You looking for something?” Asked the aforementioned pegasus with no lack of amusement.

“Maybe…” Arcane replied slowly, as he turned to his brother. Unfortunately, it seemed Steel wasn’t standing there with coffee.

“You’re looking for coffee aren't you?” He said with a deadpan tone.

“Yeah…”

“I don’t have any-”

“HERETIC!” The unicorn screeched as he started shaking the very confused heretic. It lasted only a moment, as before the heretic had regained its senses, Arcane had grabbed his wallet and was halfway out the door.

“Wha-” Steel began dumbly.

“I’m going to get coffee. Au Revoir!” And with his statement, Arcane left the building.

’Ahh… that never gets old.’ He thought to himself, as he began on his epic quest for the elixir of the gods.

It hadn’t taken too long, at the edges of the town, a café sat proudly. Out the front, a slightly worn sign displayed the name of the establishment.

“Hmm? Black Bow Coffee Company? Alright. Let’s see if they make any good coffee.” Arcane muttered to himself, as the inspected the spruce sign hanging over the gravel path, which is commonly referred to as a road.

Walking into the store, Arcane could’ve mistook the place for a bar, except instead of alcohol, they seemed to be serving coffee. Thankfully, it wasn’t a seedy bar, in fact, it was quite clean. The serving bar, the stools, even the tables, were all well maintained, and the place seemed quite popular.

Over in the corner, there seemed to be ‘caravan’ game being played. Other then that, everyone seemed to be having a good time. The smell of good coffee penetrated the air, adding to the atmosphere.

‘Well… This is interesting.’ Arcane thought to himself as he made his way over to a unoccupied stool, looking up at the menu, he marveled at the sheer amount of options. ‘C.A.F Coffee? Blackbeard's delight? Snipers’ Hide coffee? V-Tac Berzerker blend? Woah…’

Snapping out of his thoughts, Arcane looked over to the barkeep. The hardy earth pony was hard at work cooking up something or other, his fur was tan and seemed to have a large collection of scares riddling his hide. Yet, he seemed quite friendly, it only took him a moment to pass the brew over the bar. Holding onto the mugs seamlessly with his hooves, betraying years of experience. Yet, his deep brown mane was chopped short, with but a inch of length to it, and his cutiemark of two bows crossed in a way that made them into a X shape, seemed to indicate that he wasn’t always a barista.

“What’s ya’ poison?” The barkeep asked, his voice deep and gravely.

“Umm… Let’s go with the Black Bufflo.” Arcane replied, picking whatever looked interesting.

“Aye’. yer’ first time ere’?”

“Yeah, I’m usually up in Canterlot.” The blue stallion admitted,

“Hmm? You’re Arcane?” The barkeep moved around the place at a rapid pace, brewing liquid gold.

“Yeah, that’s me. How do you know my name?” This only seemed to justify a chuckle from the scarred stallion.

“Word spreads real quick, Heck, Ah’d be surprised if anypony didn’t know ya’.” The barkeep explained, his accent thicker than oil.

“Yeesh, that bad?”

“Ye’, it ain’t every day that a visitor gets shanked.” He seemed to be trying to hold back said accent, he probably got a few complaints about it.

“I guess I’m just special.” Arcane joked, brushing his unruly mane out of his eyes.

Pausing for another hearty laugh, the barkeep brought over a steaming mug. “Ye’, seems so. Ere’ it’s on the house, ya’ been though enough to warrant one, don’t ya’ think?”

“Heh, thanks.” the unicorn thanked, surprised.

“No prob’.”

Bringing the mug to his muzzle, Arcane savored the smell of the blessed drink. With a sigh of relief, he sipped the steaming drink, the warmth spreading throughout his body.

“This is the good shit.” He murmured to himself basking in the coffee.

Turning his gaze ahead of him, Arcane took notice of a set of silver armour. It was quite large, and seemed to be made for an earth pony, judging by the lack of horn or wing holes. He was faintly reminded of the royal guard’s armour, but this set seemed to be a lot bulkier, armour plating all around it, and at the joints, chainmail occupied the area.

The set was in great condition, yet, it’s helm looked more like something from a medieval fantasy book. With a large face guard set on sturdy hinges, and on the sides of the helmet a symbol of a winged sword shone proudly.

Above the armour, a massive warhammer was mounted on the wall. Like the armour, it’s steel plating shone brightly, but, unlike it, it had signs of use. A crack here, a chip there, yet, it still looked like it was more than able to cave a few skulls in.

Past the damage, Arcane could see carvings all over the thing. Around the head, it seemed to depict a last stand between a pony and The Hordes of Tartarus, down the bottom of the long shaft, on a stylised spike, there was the same winged sword.

Unlike the usual warhammers, this one lacked the armour piercing spike on the head, there was just the big brick of stylised steel.

‘I guess who ever used it, didn’t need it…’ Arcane thought with a shudder, before returning to his heavenly coffee. Almost half had been consumed, and even though he had been focused on the armour, it was still piping hot.

‘Least the coffee is good.’

After the last of his drink was consumed, Arcane made his way to the notice board.
It was placed by the door, and it was covered in pages of parchment. Some of them outlined events that were coming up, or even gambling nights. With a quick glance, he took note of the amount of courier jobs. Some were close, like Canterlot, others were quite far, some as far as the dragonlands. They seemed to pay well, but most of them asked for ‘experience fighting monsters’,

‘Well, that’s not going to work…’ Arcane thought to himself, before moving on to the next pamphlet.

None of them were particularly appealing, but after a little bit of digging, Arcane found a note with the symbol of a winged sword as the header.

WANTED:
DEAD OR ALIVE
Jekyll
Monster, Daemon, Abomination,
Reward: 500,000 Bits
ARMED AND DANGEROUS! FOR EXPERIENCED HUNTERS ONLY!
LAST SIGHTED NEAR THE EVERFREE FOREST!

WANTED FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE CROWN, ANY AND ALL INFORMATION GIVEN WILL BE REWARDED.

THIS BEAST IS A KNOWN SHAPESHIFTER, DO NOT BE CAUGHT OFF GUARD, IT WILL NOT HESITATE TO KILL ANYTHING IT CATCHES.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Behind it, a few more pages of bounties were hidden. But, there wasn’t anything as… extravagant, as the front page. Not all of them were about killing somepony, a few were for monsters to be slain, others, were for ‘hired help’, in both meanings of the word.

‘Half a million for some… monster? That seems a bit… overkill.’ Arcane thought to himself, ‘Maybe the barkeep will know what the fuss is about…’

Walking up to the bar, the unicorn’s mind started to wonder. ‘I can’t believe I got fired...after multiple years of loyal service, this is how they repay me? Sitting at the bar, Arcane’s mind turned down darker paths. ‘It was probably one of those assholes in the ‘noble’ court, it’s not like they liked me. It was always ‘why didn’t you approve of my idea? It was flawless! I’ll have your job for this!’’ He sighed, thinking back to the sheer amount of horseshit he had to deal with whenever a ‘noble’ came through. ‘I guess they got me in the end… moronic bastards.’

“Ya’ need somethin’?” With the question, Arcane was snapped out of his brooding by the barkeep.

“Yeah, I’ve got a few questions... If you don’t mind of course.” He hastily added, slightly nervous. The barkeep didn’t seem to mind.

‘He probably gets this a lot…’ he mentally admitted.

“Aye, whatcha’ what ta’ know?”

“Who is Jekyll?” The blue stallion asked, quite frankly. ’No sense beating around the bush.’

“‘Who is Jekyll?’ He’s a beast! He’ be the murderer of thousands! Beyond mortal, a monster whose power radiates with a darkness that casts a shadow upon darkness itself!” The barkeeper's eyes burned with a fury that only a defeated hunter could ever hope to conjure.

“Y-you seem to know a lot about him…” Arcane stammered, trying to rein in his speeding heart. Yet, the barkeep only seemed to find this amusing.

“Know of em’? I hunted that bastard for months! But, wen’ ah’ found em’, ah’ was damn near killed. He fought... nay, he danced with death! My entire squad was… disabled, with ease. He didn’t even kill us! He broke bone, tore flesh, and pulverised limb, but never killed! Maybe he wanted to scare the others, or he was unable to finish it, ah’ don’t know the reason, but ah’m still not sure what was worse…” He trailed off, almost like he had forgotten about his audience. About halfway through his story, the other members of the bar had lowered their tones to listen to the old barkeep. A few even moved closer, but the only ones unaffected by the story, seemed to be the ponies playing caravan in the corner.

“But you’re alive! It’s better to live then to die!” One of the bar goers shouted from... somewhere.

“Kid, ah’m an old cripple. My hip was destroyed in that... slaughter, and ah’ can barely walk straight!” With a shudder, he continued.

“Ah’ still remember the feeling ya’d get from lookin’ em’ in the eyes… He was… indifferent to us, no rage, no anger, nothing! Ah’ barely got a hit on em’, and look at the hammer!” The stallion ranted, pointing out the wrecked Warhammer.

“But… why? Why were you trying to find him?” Arcane quietly asked, almost fearing the answer.

“Ah’ was apart of an ol’ group of mercs. Real old, besta’ best, we where. Called us the ‘Silver Swords’... ah’ ain’t sure iffa’ the group is still ‘round.” The old stallion remised, his eyes looking beyond what was infront of him.

‘Well… that is certainly something to think about…’

After a few questions, the crowd dispersed and returned to their day to day lives. But Arcane was gone long before then, maybe it was because of the story, or he had enough of the atmosphere. Nevertheless, he was gone.

At the other end of the town, a stream flowed, creating a natural barrier to defend Brismane from one side. Despite this, a bridge was built a great deal of time ago. It’s stones worn by time and weather, and yet, it stands strong, indifferent to the passage of life.

This bridge was a good distance out of town, close enough to be apart of it, but far enough away that it could be unnoticed by the inhabitants. Around it, only the sound of calm wind and moving water could be heard, yet, nopony was there. But there was someone, a mist congregated into the form not unlike a timberwolf, but this form was… smoother, it seemed to have fur instead of bark, and it seemed a lot more… alive, despite the fact that it was a mist. Throughout it, little sparks of light calmly floated. Not unlike the stars against the night sky, yet, they seemed to move, ever so slowly.

The mist had it’s two front… paws, resting over the side barrier of the bridge. It’s gaze looking out in the direction of the town, it seemed… peaceful. Like a prisoner freed after a life of imprisonment, like a elderly stallion who had accomplished everything he wanted.

It was this feeling of inner peace that the being clinged onto, almost desperately. It’s eyes shining in the midday sun, and, if one was to look, they would swear they could almost saw little whispers of knowledge, dancing across them.

“At last… I’m… alive.” The being whispered to itself, the fog within it’s mind had lifted, maybe for the first time.

Maybe even the last…

Banishing these thoughts with a quick shake of it’s head, it focuses back onto itself, determined to finalize its form. Its ‘anchor’ to sanity. Soon, it became a he, and he, in turn, became solid. He was no longer a mist, he was a being. Granted, one who can change it’s form at will, but a being none the less.

He was now able to eat, to drink, to… live. Gone were the days of mindless following, gone were the days of eternal servitude to the whims of reality. At long last, he was free.

Or not…

“Maybe I should find him… he did do… whatever he did to free me.” He thought outloud to himself, before adding in a extra thought, “Even unintentionally.”

The populace would brand you a freak…

“Well, I could always wait until he is alone… hopefully he will be open minded about… me…” The being whispered, lost in thought.

We’ll see…

After leaving the ba-Coffee shop, Arcane spent the rest of the day looking for a source of income. Not many positions were open, and despite his luck, the best he was able to find was a librarian position.

It didn’t pay spectacularly, but it was enough to pay the bills. The library itself was more of a bookstore. But even then, that was being generous. It had in total around five shelves of books, and the whole place was quite run down.

It wasn’t unlivable, but it was close.

‘Seems like nopony here cares much for literature… Let’s see if I can change that.’ Arcane thought to himself, filling up with determination, he set off for home. ‘Maybe Steel can give me a hoof with repairs…’

“Ah… ah… AH CHOO!” Steel sneezed, before rubbing his face.

He paused, thinking for a moment before deflating.

“Aww shit...”

After a quick walk, Arcane opened to door to his new… home. Steel seemed to still be at work, since the house was almost silent. But that didn’t deter the unicorn, he was in a good mood, and by Celestia, he was going to make to most out of it!

Shifting though his supply of books, Arcane choose a few to add to the library’s meager stores. Halfway through sorting, he took note of a relatively new newspaper. With a flash of remembrance, he grabbed the paper with his magic.

‘Ahh yes… I remember, Equestria is going to war… this is gonna be a shitshow…’ he thought to himself, dampening his mood slightly. Before finishing his train of thought with a chuckle. ‘I guess I’m not the only one having shitty luck lately.’

“Here’s to hoping they don’t have to start drafting ponies.” The blue stallion murmured solemnly. With a quick spell, the newspaper was tucked away into one of his shelves. “There is no point dwelling on what cannot be helped… Who knows? It mightn’t even get past planning.”

Spending a few more moments searching through his room, Arcane’s thoughts returned to his runes and the… issue with his previous experiment.

‘Why did it act like that? It was a protection rune for Celestia’s sake! Not an explosive one!’ The unicorn fumed, as he brought about both the liquid and his Rune book.

’Flip’

’Flip’

“...”

’Flip’

’Flippity flip’

“Hmmm… how about this?”

“...”

“Maybe I should do this outside…”

After moving his setup outside, Arcane began the tedious process of etching runes into parchment. It took a good hour, but soon enough, Arcane laid the rune-riddled parchments onto the grass.

The stallion had moved his operations to the edge of the forest, which was -thankfully- a good distance away from any and all passersby. And after the first… disaster, Arcane had decided to go all out on the runes. Instead of the basic setup he was using, the unicorn had gone with layers and layers of crazy runes.

‘Alright then… this should work.’ Arcane thought to himself, looking intently at the center of the array.

Using his magic, he levitated the golden liquid into the epicenter of the runic circles. With it in place, he double checked the safety protocols.

‘Hopefully, it won’t explode this time… I’m not even sure how the damned thing survived the first one…’ The blue stallion wished with a chuckle.

“Let’s do this!” he yelled, slamming his hoof into a gap in the runic circuit.

It took only a heartbeat. Maybe it was because of his luck, or maybe he had overlooked something. Regardless, things starting to go wrong only barely a second after Arcane began the test.

It didn’t explode, thankfully, but it did blind anything looking in that general direction. It even caught the attention of the local militia, despite their laid back approach to their jobs.

The flash was powerful enough to rival the sun itself. And with it, a great wave of heat blasted outwards, raising the temperature by at least ten degrees.

It was enough to cause a shockwave that pushed Arcane a good ten meters. Coming down, he collided with the ground. Not quite enough to bring about the darkness, but enough to disorientate him.

But before it could do any more damage, protocol came into play as a shimmering shield erected around the array. It seemed to be layered, but the inner layers were stripped away after but a moment. With only the outer shield holding the detonation at bay, one of the other arrays kicked in and reinforced it.

The shield crackled and hissed, straining under the sheer force of… whatever was going on. And, while it was able to stop the shockwaves, the shield wasn’t able to stop the grass inside, and outside the array, blackening and smoldering.

Shaking himself off, Arcane raised from his prone position. He found himself staring at the runes with a mix of fear and awe, fear due to the power of the detonation that was currently in progress, and awe from the sheer amount of energy needed to create such a reaction.

He began to laugh as the emergency protocols launched the overload of energy into the sky, causing a great pillar of bright blue light. The sound of crackling lines of power filled the air, raising from a dull drone, to a deafening scream, causing Arcane’s ears to ring and bleed.

He barely noticed himself falling to his hunches, as his laugh of mania reached its crescendo. His eyes, reduced to pinpricks, his forehooves, raised above his head, his mind, just a little more broken.

The passage of time meant little to the unicorn now, as did the arrival of the militia. For now, his concentration was solely on his creation of madness. It’s meaning, meaningless, it’s purpose, irrelevant, for now, it was a display of power, it was to show the world that he was more alive than ever before.

He has seen true power. The power used to move mountains, to level cities, to own the world! Never again will he be restrained by the concept of morality!

Never ag-THUMP!

And the darkness greeted it’s old friend, once again…

The town was in a panic, as, but a few moments before, a massive shockwave rocked houses and destroyed windows. During this, the old barkeep was finishing up for the day. The questions really took it out of him, and, now he’s just going to leave the bar to his employees.

But alas, the universe had other plans for him.

After the shock wave, he had rushed over to where it had originated. But ‘rushed’, was quite relative, for him, it was more of a hobble due to his bum leg. Either way, he was the first on the scene, well, at last that’s what it seemed like.

In front of him, an orb of cracking mana slowly burned away the grass near it. Only a few meters away, a blue unicorn sat, bewildered.

‘Isn’t that Arcane? What in tartarus is he doing?!’ The barkeep mentally screamed, but before he could make any further action, Arcane burst into the laughter of a crazy pony.

Almost as if it was reacting to him, the orb began shooting the energy into the sky, burning away a few clouds above it. Over the other side, some of the local law enforcement gathered, unsure on how to proceed.

Acting on instinct alone, the barkeep rushed forward, ignoring the roar of the orb, ignoring the pain of his leg, focusing all his might into one bull rush.

Seconds ticked by, as he galloped over to Arcane, the sound, growing ever louder. After the agonising run, the barkeep fruitlessly tried to get over to the unicorn.

But in the end, it didn't matter, as one last blast ripped up the earth around the orb and flung it in every direction. Which, included Arcane’s direction…

THUMP!

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

The familiar beeping of a heart monitor greeted Arcane, but this time, it was accompanied by the feeling of the light breathing of somepony else.

Opening his eyes, Arcane took note of the familiar restraints and nullification ring. But this time, near the door, a guardstallion stood, clad in gray armour with a short sword strapped to his side. Instead of the royal gaurdsponies, the militia lacked the ‘uniform enchantment’ that made their coats white or grey.

In fact, this guard was a bright blue, with fiery eyes, and it seemed he was a earth pony. But that was of little importance, first, Arcane needed to figure out what happened.

“Ummm… sir? Can I please know what happened?” Arcane shyly murmured,

“You were hit by flying dirt and rock.” The stallion deadpanned.

“Uhhh… how?” the hospitalised unicorn replied, confused.

“You were sat too close to the center of a very powerful spell.” The stallion clarified, still in his deadpan tone. “You can expect a word from the Lieutenant.”

“Ah…”

An hour or two passed with little chatter.

’It seems, despite their lesser training, they are just as tight lipped…’ Arcane mentally groaned.

Thankfully, not long after his mental comment, another guard entered. But, unlike the original, this one had a gold trim to his armour, and, on his left shoulder pad, a small golden bar had been attached.

With a glance, the lieutenant dismissed the original guard, before pulling up a chair next to the hospital bed. For a few moments, the two ponies sat in silence. But, it wasn’t to last, in the end, the orange furred lieutenant broke the silence.

“What were you doing?” He asked bluntly, not bothering with subtlety.

“I-I”m not sure what you mean…” Arcane began, before being silenced by the lieutenant losing his shit.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! The bucking pillar of light!” The pegasus fumed, “You were found ten meters away from it! So I’ll ask again! What the buck did you do?!”

Before Arcane could formulate an answer, three knocks resounded from the doorway behind the captain. Who, after pausing for a moment, muttered a curse and left the room. Leaving the blue unicorn to his musings.

A good amount of time had passed, and like the time, Arcane’s wakefulness disappeared. But, it wouldn’t stay that way for long…

“So you’re Arcane,” A voice stated, distorted by the unicorn’s grogginess.

“Wha?” Arcane murmured, half asleep. And, before he could properly awaken, a unwelcome slippery appendage entered his left nostril.

“Gah! What the hay Steel?” Arcane protested, quickly raising from his bed and scanning the room half-heartedly.

“Try again,” The voice said as Arcane noticed… him.

Before Arcane stood a horror from the darkest pits of Tartarus itself, the monster’s face bare inches from his own. Its fiery red eyes were cold, dispassionate, as though it wasn’t capable of caring whether Arcane spoke or died. The creature’s face had a short nose instead of a proper muzzle, but was arranged in a way that left no doubt to its predatory nature. The front facing eyes, boring a hole into Arcane’s own. It’s mouth, left slightly open so he could notice… them.

Teeth. Razor sharp, pointy, teeth. They only added to the image of the perfect apex predator.

Even the beast’s mane looked deadly, as though it was actually a number of venomous snakes waiting for the moment to strike. Every feature Arcane’s eyes crossed only heightened his fear and sense of helplessness, and each one was the same glossy black with bright red veins to accent the monster’s alien features all the more.

“Y-you’re Jekyll, your wanted poster is hanging in the coffee shop,” Arcane noted absently. His mind skipping the panic stage and moving instead to disbelief.

“Good, that means you know my threats aren’t empty and telling you not to do that again might actually achieve something,” Jekyll continued, ignoring the fear of the blue furred stallion.

“But-” Arcane tried to protest, before he was cut off by… him.

“I fucking hate that word more every day, say it again and I’ll geld you. I don’t care what you did to make that pillar of light, but I could see it from Ponyville. More importantly, I could also see the panic it caused there. I don’t know yet if the gryphons, or any of the other races, could see it or whether they’re using it as an excuse to wipe this pitiful town off the map along with the rest of Equestria, but if I see another stunt like that again… Well, I think you know by now. Are we clear?” Jekyll asked pointedly, his voice dripping with malice.

“Th-that wasn’t supposed to happen! It was only supposed to make a shield...” Arcane pleaded, eyes wide at the beast’s threats; both implied and explicit.

“How do you fuck up a shield rune so badly that it does that? Who the hell let you out of school without at least being able to carve one damn rune?” The monster asked, his anger slowly bleeding away into curiosity. After a moment, he grabbed… it.

‘What the buck!? I’ve blown that liquid up, twice! How in Celestia’s name is it still here?! Let alone in this room!?’ Arcane mentally screamed as Jekyll carved a shield rune into the side of the flask.

Once he had finished scraping away with his talon, he asked “How far from this was it?”

“It was the same… ish...,” Arcane replied, trying to hide his little slice of insanity known as the ‘Golden Liquid’.

‘Note to self: Find better name for it…’ Arcane deadpanned to himself.

“Then maybe it’s not the rune, dumbass,” Jekyll mused, completing the circuit with a claw. Finding it working perfectly, he handed it over to Arcane, “Low power, go for a shield around the flask itself. And at least try not to destroy the room.”

‘Why didn’t it explode? Waaiiit a moment… He activated it using his claw… Maybe he’s resistant to magic? Or maybe it is the resistance from the skin, muscle, and other tissue…’ Arcane pondered, his thoughts getting increasingly complicated every second.

Absentmindedly, he did as Jekyll has instructed, and, unsurprisingly, the flask exploded, throwing shards of glass in every direction and leaving a few scratches on Arcane’s muzzle for good measure.

“Fascinating, it almost looks like the rune was allergic to your magic. Impossible, but fascinating,” The beast mentioned, ignoring a few… disturbing noises from the other side of the door.

“You’re really curious about this? The poster made you seem like-” Arcane began.

“A dumb but unstoppable brute, I’m aware. I also couldn’t care less what they say about me. Back on topic, I would recommend testing your magic on things that don’t almost kill your stupid ass until you can track down exactly what keeps going wrong. Do I need to give you an incentive to avoid runes until then?” Jekyll asked, not really expecting a yes.

“No, bu-although I may have a theory.” Arcane began, catching himself before he angered the predator in front of him.

“Before I was… injured... I could handle runes just as easily as anypony else, I think it might have to do with what happened,” Arcane bluffed, ‘I’m not sure if it would be a good idea to mention the liquid… Better play it safe.’

“You got stabbed or something right? Join the club. I doubt that would affect magic like this. Just because I legitimately want to know, for some reason, I’ll be posting a messenger in the woods. Walk out alone and he or she will find you, just don’t trust every timberwolf you come across. Or do, even if you get eaten I still win on account of not having to deal with this crazy bullshit anymore. Keep me posted on your findings and I might even call in an expert or two to help,” Jekyll offered.

“You’re studying me?” Arcane confirmed,

“Heh, you’re more clever than most, usually you lot never figure out how you’re being used and twisted. Yes, I am. However, if I had to watch you all day, I’d probably just eat you and call it an early lunch on the first day. But you seem competent enough to not die before you can diagnose yourself, so I’ll be expecting you to check in whenever you find anything and ask for help when you inevitably end up eyeball deep in trouble,” The monster stated.

“Uh, wow, I wasn’t expecting that much,” Arcane commented.

“I wasn’t expecting a bright ass pillar of blue light interrupting my lunch and pissing me off, but shit happens. I’d just be happy that you get the chance to study yourself, there are worse possibilities,” Jekyll rebutted, “Like vivisection.”

“Okay, I’ll tell your messenger whatever I find,” Arcane relented, “So, what happens now?”

“Now I collect my gryphon before she actually does eat somepony that isn’t actively exploding and then I’ll go home, you carry on with your...what the fuck? I swear I watched that explode,” Jekyll stumbled, noticing a flask of golden liquid sitting on the table.

“I-” Arcane attempted. Panicking internally ‘shitshitshitshitshit!’

“Meh, must’ve been two of them,” Jekyll excused, though his eyes scanned the room suspiciously.

“Uh, yeah, two of them,” Arcane agreed nervously. ‘Thank Celestia… that was too close…’

“Well, it’s about that time,” Jekyll declared as he stood to his full height and turned towards the door, “And Arcane, don’t make me come back or I’ll try out this ingenious little surgery I’ve been itching to do. I doubt you’d enjoy it, but the advancements in the medical field would be far worth any discomfort. To have a subject’s living brain moved into his rectal cavity...who knows what we’d be able to discover.”

Arcane could only nod as the intimidating figure of Jekyll confidently strode out the door and into the maelstrom of shouts and threats that had brewed from his presence.

“He’s all yours. Gilda, we’re done here,” Jekyll shouted, just out of view.

“You won’t get away with this!” A familiar voice cried to the retreating sound of Jekyll’s footsteps.

Not a moment after the door clicked shut, it was roughly thrown open by a familiar green pegasus decked out in silver militia armour. The pegasus seemed to be filled with rage, that was, fortunately, not directed to Arcane… yet.

When the enraged stallion’s gaze fell on the form of Arcane, his features softened as he hurriedly rushed over to his brother.

“Did he do anything? Did he hurt you?! I’ll kick his arse!” Steel worriedly asked, before jumping into an angry tone at the possibility of the monster hurting the only family he had left.

“Nonono, he didn’t do anything. It’s fine.” Arcane rushed, trying to defuse the situation before somepony did something stupid.

“Alright… now. WHAT THE BUCK WHERE YOU THINKING!?” It seems with one situation defused, another took its place…

“This time, it’s not my fault!” Arcane stubbornly replied, “I reject your reality, and substitute my own.”

“Suuuure. Just like how the last explosion wasn’t your fault.” Steel replied, not buying it for a second. “I’d expected that after THE FIRST TIME, you’d learn NOT to buck around with your damned runes!”

“Bu-” Arcane tried to retort, but it was fruitless, Steel wasn’t done with his rant.

“And THIS TIME you brought in THE MOST WANTED CRIMINAL IN EQUESTRIA!” Steel raged, as the other militia soldiers, who had originally planned to enter the room, decided to leave the two to their argument. “What in Celestia’s name possessed you to think THAT was a good idea?!”

“... Sorry…” Arcane murmured, cringing away from his younger brother’s outburst. “I wasn’t expecting it to do… that…”

Steel didn’t look satisfied with this answer. At all. But, with a deep breath, the green furred stallion calmed his tone to a reasonable volume. “Alright. That’ll have to do… I guess. Just… Don’t do that again…. Please.”

“I won’t… ‘Sides, I’m meant to be the older brother, I’m supposed to keep you out of trouble.” Arcane replied with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“True that.” Steel admitted with a chuckle. “Anyway, you feeling alright?”

“Surprisingly, yes, I’m feeling just fine.” Arcane said, with a happy sigh.

“Good.” Steel replied, before sighing and continuing, “Now, you’ve going to need to answer some questions from my C.O. But, the medical staff say you’re good to go. So, I think we’ll head home for the night.”

“Ummm… what? Is that legal?” Arcane asked, surprised.

“Eh… sorta.”

“Uhhh… Alright…”

“...”

“Who was that?” The creature of blue mist asked to nobody. He had waited outside of the hospital for hours, waiting for his savior to awaken.

He was going to enter, but then the monster had appeared. It had talked to Arcane.

It had threatened him…

It was going to hurt him….

It was going to hurt his savior…

Kill it… it dared to threaten our savior… it does not deserve to live…

“But I can’t… it is too strong… too smart...”

Then we must get stronger… we must protect our savior… it is our duty…

“Yes… That will work.” He resolved, slipping away from the window and into the night.

The monster talked about a messenger… it would be weak… we must kill it… leave a message for the messenger…

No… we must be smart… not let the monster know of us… till it is too late…

Feast… grow… become stronger… then we will hunt… then… we… will… kill…

“Then we are in agreement… Let us feed… and grow....” He stated as he neared the forest edge.

Yes

“This is a stupid idea!” Arcane whisper shouted at himself, as he dangled half out of his bedroom window. “I could go to sleep! And never deal with this horseshit again!”

The chilly wind seemed to agree with him, and yet, he lept out the window and onto the grass. After raising his hoof and closing the window with a near silent click, he began the trek to the forest.

“Then again… I really don’t want to piss off Jekyll…” The blue unicorn murmured to himself. “But what about Steel? Surely he’d understand…”

Somehow, he doubted it.

The rest of the trek passed in silence, the only sounds being from the creatures of the night and the dull rustle of Arcane’s hooves on the grass.

And yet…

There was barely a sound from the animals.

The crickets were Arcane’s only company. Even as he trespassed on the forest edge, the trees were still, almost as if they feared something… something… powerful…

“Maybe this is a bad idea… A really bad idea…” He murmured to himself,

Just as Arcane began to turn, his mind jumped back to… Him.

His mane, his teeth… his eyes. Everything about Jekyll screamed ‘bad’, and even without his reputation, it seemed like it would be a horrible, horrible idea to cross him. To the point that death would most likely be a better idea.

“N-never mind! Back into the freaky forest… Celestia damn it… what did I do to deserve this?” Arcane sighed as he went back to the forest, not even bothering to lift his hooves above the bare minimum.

Further into the forest he trudged, the sounds of the animals unchanging. And, unsurprisingly, the mood only got worse. After a while, the screams started.

Blood curdling screams rang across the forest, seemingly bypassing Arcane’s ears, for no matter how hard he stuffed his hooves into his ears, the screams still rang true.

The sound wasn’t from a pony, but whatever it was, it went on and on. Making sure the world knew of it’s pain and misery.

‘Where is that coming from?!’ Arcane mentally screamed, fruitlessly trying to hear himself over the mind numbing screams.

No matter what he thought of, his mind always returned to the screams, until they just… stopped.

Silence dominated the forest once more.

‘Well… that was… abrupt…’ He dumbly thought as he removed his hooves from his near bleeding ears. For a moment, he just sat there, looking around him, scanning the forest as if the answer would just jump out at him.

Safe to say, it didn’t.

‘Maybe a song will help?’

‘...’

That. Is a stupid idea.

“Whaaat the buck what that!? Who’s there?!” Arcane jumped with his shout, as he whipped around trying, and failing, to find the source of the voice.

Everyone.

And no one.

“Come on! There’s two of you?! Stop messing with me!” Arcane yelled into the darkness, too tired to deal with this riddle speaking pile of horseshit.

There are a many of us...

Yet there is only one of us...

“All tied together by fate...” A new voice said, unlike the other voices, this one didn’t skip Arcane’s ears. But at the same time, it seemed to echo ever so slightly.

“Show yourselves!” Arcane cried, lighting up his horn and ruining his, half decent, night vision.

As You “Wish...” The voices seemed to overlap almost seamlessly, the only difference between them being different… feel.

Whilst the first seemed elegant and flowing, the middle seemed to burn with anger, yet, at the same time, it didn’t seem angry.

But the final one… it was different. Stronger than the others, louder than them. It seemed the closest to ‘normal’, because aside from the echo, it could be mistaken for a normal pony.

But with it… it seemed like it held great power behind it.

Arcane was snapped out of his thoughts by a shape emerging from the foliage.

It looked similar to a timberwolf, yet, it didn’t move with the jerky movements that came with being made of wood. Instead, it moved as if it was a flesh and blood creature, even though it seemed to be slightly see-through.

It’s pelt seemed to be made of a light blue mist, condensed into a solid form, and, throughout it’s body, it seemed to have tiny stars glinting in the moonlight. On top of all that, the slight wind seemed to move it’s fur as if it was a pony’s own.

The strangest of it all was it’s eyes. They had no pupils, and instead, the glowed with a powerful light, yet, no light escaped them, only a mist that wrapped around the back of it’s head.

The more Arcane stared, the more he felt like something was wrong with this… thing. Then, it hit him.

“W-what happened to your leg?” Arcane asked nervously, gesturing to the creature’s back right leg.

Said leg only went down to it’s knee, everything below that was gone. Replaced only by mist, leaking out of it.

“An unnatural monster didn’t appreciate our presence. They shouldn’t even be on this plane of existence...” The creature calmly explained, sparing the aforementioned leg only a glance.

It will not make that mistake again...

Don’t interrupt! This isn’t our place to talk.

We are f-!

“Silence! Both of you!” The creature barked at… himself?

Whenever the other voices said anything, the creature’s jaw moved as if it was speaking, and it’s right eye… changed.

When the elegant voice talked, his eye went a calm green.

But when the angry voice talked, it went a hateful red.

Arcane’s surprise must’ve been clear on his face, for only a moment after he noted this observation, the creature went back to talking.

“Do not worry about them. They are unimportant at this point.” The creature assured, it’s tone… calming.

“W-who are you?” The unicorn asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

“We do not have a name.” The Not-Timberwolf admitted evenly,

He doesn’t want to make one...

At least, not one in your tongue...

“What did I say? Not a moment ago?” It hissed to the other voices, displeased with their behavior.

‘Hmm… so it’s a he? Can’t say I’m surprised…’ Arcane pondered over this small piece of information, ignoring the venomous tone the creature used when addressing the other… parts of itself.

“We have taken the form of a ‘Wolf’. From what we can remember, it was a animal in the old world.” The self proclaimed ‘wolf’ explained, taking on a tone of a… teacher.

“But, like the rest of your kind, we do not expect you to remember the old world.” He sighed, before continuing with i-his makeshift lesson. “A long time ago, before there was the land of Equestria, this place was different. It controled itself, it regulated it’s own seasons. And, it had it’s own creatures.”

“But, when the ponies came, they changed the land. They killed the independance of the weather. And, they destroyed the creatures who had called this land home.”

“But, we accept this outcome. They were strong. And only the strong survive.” The wolf explained, a glint of admiration in his eyes.

“Why are you telling me this?! We’re sitting in the middle of the forest, in the dead of night, and you’re giving me a history lesson!” Arcane yelled, exasperated. “Can you please tell me why you are here?”

“Hmmm… It seems like the Elixir has already taken hold...” The creature murmured, almost too quiet for Arcane to hear. “Regardless, we are here because of you. You did something in that hospital room. Something… impossible. And now we have returned to existence.”

“We are fragmented, and we do not remember all that has happened in our past life. Nor do we have all of our power, but, the fact still remains, we exist because of you. And that is something we are unable to repay.”

So we shall be bound to you.

Till’ death do us part.

“B-but I didn’t do anything!” Arcane protested, raising his hooves above in head in an effort to get his point across.

“But you did, and now we are bound to you.” The creature replied flatly, as he moved away from the foliage fully and laid down near the confused unicorn.

“I didn’t ask for this…”Arcane muttered, ‘Why can’t these things be easy? I just want to go back to my boring life… heck, I’d be happy if paperwork was all I had to deal with...’

“Neither did we, yet here we are.” The creature returned, still in his flat tone.

The two beings sat there for a time, barely saying a thing, and, after some time, Arcane became a bit more comfortable with the Wolf’s presence. But, in the end, all good things come to an end…

Our time runs short… daylight approaches,

As do the others… it seems like they did not take kindly to the… manticore incident.

“Unfortunate. I guess I shall just skip to the point.” The creature sighed, before lifting a paw and condensing the leaking mist from it’s eyes on top of it. “Take this, it is a physical representation of our connection. And with it, we shall be able to better protect you.”

“Is that…? Wait… My necklace!” Arcane exclaimed, wide eyed at the familiar necklace the creature created out of it’s… mist.

“Curious… It wasn’t supposed to exist in this form… It seems we are tied closer than I expected.” The wolf murmured with surprise before passing the necklace into the telekinesis of the blue furred unicorn.

“Well… this has been an interesting day…”

Author's Notes:

(Update: Formatting)
AN: Alright! The first major tie in to 'Monster is, as Monster Does' is done!
I hope everyone enjoyed it, and if you want to know the story behind Jekyll, you'll have to go over to the other story (Link above).

Weapons_X's Note:
And this is why it took a month to get chapter 22 of Monster published. Oh, and if you can figure out why Jekyll's lines are different in this version, you get an OC in both the stories.

Militia Man's Note: Another perspective to tell the bigger story. Sounds like a good time to me. Can't wait to dig real deep with this one.

Chapter 4 [MARKED FOR REWRITE]

{Chapter 4}
“You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain” - Harvey Dent [2008, The Dark Knight,]

Trees crawled past as the conflicted ‘wolf’ slowly strolled around the edge of the forest. On the outside, he was silent, the only sound from his muffled footfalls, and even then, it was near silent. But on the inside, two voices argued over plans both past, and present.

We shouldn’t do this… the Swords grow ever closer…
A green voice quietly advised, it’s voice as soothing a summer breeze.

We mustn't show weakness… They barely hold a candle to our power… We will crush them...
A red voice shot back, with a voice as hot as fire.

But what of the monster? We cannot attract the ire of him!
The calming voice retorted, raising its volume near the end.

His pawns are weak. He will be no different.
The flaming voice answered, as if it was obvious.

His pawns were able to maim us! He will always be stronger than his underlings, and you are a fool to think otherwise!
The calm voice argued, it’s voice cracking and becoming slightly distorted.

You dare call me a fool!? I have crushed nations under my heel! I have shaped the world in my image! I am power incarnate!
The other voice raged in reply, not seeming to fall into the distorted mess that the other had become.

Really?! Then why are you not in Control!? You were shamed! Defeated! And annihilated! The only reason you exist is because of Our power!
The once calm voice continued, only become more and more distorted as time went by.

YOU DARE-!?

‘SILENCE! Thou art both acting foalish! We art merciful to both of thee, and thine squabbles shalt be thine undoing!’
The ‘wolf’ mentally yelled, not even bothering to hold back his old tongue.

...

...

‘Our plan has already faced complications, and we don’t need to add ‘infighting’ to the list.’ The ‘wolf’ explained, it’s tone venomous.

The rest of the walk was in silence, but, after the sun had began bringing the inhabitants of the small town of Brismane into wakefulness, the wolf decided to retreat into the darkness of the woods.

At the same time, Arcane had nearly finished slipping into his room.

“Come on… come on… almost there…” The unicorn muttered as he slowly opened the window to his room, hoping beyond all hope that his brother had oiled the hinges of said window.

“Almost there… just a few more minutes now…” The window opened just enough for the stallion to slip through it, and, thankfully, it had avoided the temptation to make a large amount of noise.

“Aaaaand…” He pleaded, halfway through the window.

THUMP!

“Ow! Shit! Buck! damnit!” A voice yelled from somewhere in the house.

“Alright… I’m done. I’m home. We’re all good.” Arcane Quill said with a sigh of relief, as he closed the window and went into the dining room.

In said dining room, Steel seemed to have fallen off the dining… table.

“Uhhh… Should I ask what you are doing?” Arcane asked, perplexed at the randomness of the situation.

“Curse you… you drive me to drink...” Steel grunted, surrounded by empty bottles.

“Oookaaayy…” The blue stallion said as he slipped out of the house, leaving his brother to his… fate. ‘No sense dealing with a hangover Steel… That’s just asking for trouble.’

All things considered, the town was coping well. With all of the different… things happening, one would expect the townsponies to be a little skittish… at least.

After a bit of a walk, Arcane sighted the tavern of the gods. Around it, there was a few ponies drinking their coffee and talking with friends and family.

The coffee shop itself seemed particularly popular today, and, even with all the extra ponies, they still found a way to give Arcane a wide berth.

‘With everything happening lately, I’m not surprised. Hay, it might even be for the best.’ Arcane sighed sadly as he opened the door to the shop.

Inside, the sounds of merriment remained of constant. And, even with the other ponies avoiding him, Arcane still felt his mood raise. Maybe it was because of the lack of change? Or maybe it was the smell of coffee? Regardless, Arcane was happier than he was a few moments ago.

Not a moment after he took a seat at the bar, the Barkeep moved over to the unicorn. The limping stallion seemed to brighten when he saw Arcane, but the reason why decided to keep to itself for the time being. “Ah! If it ain’t the talk a’ the town! How’s it goin’ lad?”

“Not too bad, my back it killing me though. How about you?” Arcane greeted, mentally trying to figure out what coffee to have.

“Aw’, Ah’ ain’t too bad. A wee’ bit worried ‘bout yerself though. Ah’d heard that ye’ had a run in wit’... ’im” The Barkeep explained, his tone turning venomous with the mention of Jekyll.

“Yeah, it was a bit crazy…” Arcane said, trying to avoid explaining what happened, “Wait a sec… You never gave me your name…”

“Haha! Ye’r a sharp one ain’t ya’? Name’s Ashen Brew! ‘Nd as ya rightly know, Ah’ own this ‘ere coffee shop.” The Barkeep laughed wholeheartedly, “Now, for the ‘portant questions! What do ya’ want coffee wise?”

“Hmmm… I think I’ll go with the Warrior’s Heart.” Arcane chose blindly, not quite sure what else to go with.

“Ah! Good choice lad! Ah’ll brew it up real quick!” Ashen boomed, his voice seemingly unable to be quiet.

Taking this time for his gaze to wander, Arcane quickly found his eyes drawn to a table on the far side of the room. Hunched over it, three being seemed to be discussing something, and, unfortunately, Arcane was only able to hear a few snippets of the conversation.

“Twenty thousand? No, that can’t be right…”

“Aye, that be a wee bit too low...”

“... Finders fee… Areomorne…”

Out of the three, the third voice seemed to be the quietest. For while the blue stallion was able to overhear a few sentences from the first two, he was only able to gather a few words from the third.

“... Twenty now… split… amongst the rest... Three days… Port Seahooves…”

“... ‘ight, ah’ get it.”

“We shall see…”

With those last words, the body belonging to the third voice rose from the table and left the bar. Whilst the first two, who Arcane was able to make out as a pair of Gryphons, remained at the table.

But, before Arcane could ponder this further, Ashen returned with the unicorn’s drink of choice. “‘ere ya’ go lad. Wan’t anythin’ else?”

“This is fine thanks.” Arcane thanked, levitating a few bits over to the barkeep. “So, I was wondering, have you heard the name ‘Areomorne’?”

“Hmm…” Ashen murmured, scratching his chin in concentration. “Ah’ can’t say Ah’ ‘ave. It seems ‘mighty familiar, but Ah’ can’t remember offa’ the top of me head. Why? Are ya’ looking for new lands?”

“No, I had just heard it mentioned and I got curious. That’s all.” Arcane bluffed smoothly, ‘I never mentioned what it was…’

After finishing his drink, Arcane began the quick trek over to his new workplace. Once he got there, he spent a few hours cleaning, and clearing out broken bits of furniture. But, in the end, he was snapped out of his working frenzy by the sound of a familiar voice.

“You need a hoof?” Steel greeted, placing down a medium sized box with the word ‘Library’ scrawled on the front. “I saw this in your room, and I guessed you’d need it.”

“Thanks, it seems you guessed right.” Arcane replied, moving the box into the library with his telekinesis. “Now, if you want to help, we’re going to need to fix up these bookshelves.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Steel asked, confused.

“While the outer wood is fine, the shelves have minor to major wood rot. Hopefully, we’ve caught it quick enough to stop it from getting to the rest of the building.” Arcane explained, pointing out of few bookshelves near the entrance. “Hopefully, the extra plywood I found out back will be able to fix it…”

“Alright. It looks like you’ve got it all planned out, as usual.” Steel ribbed, “Shall we get to it?”

The two brothers then spent the rest of the day fixing up the library with whatever they had on hoof. They caught up in between blood and sweat, discussing the finer points of both the past, and the future. Speaking of hopes, and most importantly, dreams.

Pondering all the different things they needed to do, and, of what they had done.

But, for some surprising reason, the conversation ended up in the strangest places…

“I’m telling you, Celestia was able to kick Nightmare’s flank once. And the only reason she wouldn’t do it again, is because she didn’t want to banish her again.” Steel argued as he piled the rotten shelves together.

“That's cause she had the Elements. Also known as, the ultimate trump card. In a fair fight, Nightmare would’ve won!” Arcane shot back as he worked on replacing said shelves.

“In a fair fight, there wouldn’t be a Nightmare Moon! It would be Luna vs Celestia. And Celestia would still win.” Steel reasoned, continuing the argument civilized debate.

“Nooo, it would still be the same power levels. The only reason she became Nightmare Moon is because she needed the intimidation factor. Would you revolt against a ruler that looked like that?” Arcane continued,

“Yes!”

“No, you wouldn’t, you’d be pissing yourself.” Arcane teased.

“I would not!” Steel cried, “I am part of the Brismane Militia! I would not piss myself!”

“Yes you would! Did you even see the pictures? That mare is scary! Hay, even the Royal Guards had some trouble.” Arcane reasoned, not bothering to mention that the Guard part was just speculation.

“Fine! But what about…” The two brothers continued their back and forth for almost the rest of the day, using it to keep their minds off the work. And, by the end of it, it looked quite good, all things considering.

All it needed was books. Lots and lots of books.

“So, how does it look?” Arcane asked, referring to the, now usable, public library.

“I think it looks great!” Steel replied, happy with the end result. “Now, all it needs is more books.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna put an order in tomorrow.” Arcane admitted, brushing off some dust that stubbornly cling to his fur.

“So, want’s next?” Steel asked, glancing at the evening sky. “It’s getting a bit dark…”

“Hmmm… How about we close up and head home? There isn’t much to do now.” Arcane suggested, “‘Sides, I’m tired.”

“Alrighty, sounds like a plan.” Steel replied, moving back to the library as he fished out his keys.

“That reminds me,” Arcane began, following Steel, “Have you ever heard of ‘Areomorne’?”

“Only whispers of it, why?” Steel asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I overheard somepony talking about it, and it got me thinking.” Arcane said with a shrug, “And, you know how I get.”

“Fair enough.” Steel chuckled, before continuing, “Well, from what I’ve heard, it’s this place over on the far side of the ocean. Apparently, an old sailor found it, and, as the story goes, he found ponies on it.”

“Really? I thought only Gryphons were over there.” Arcane asked, bemused.

“Nah, even further than them.” Steel replied, “Anyway, from what he said, he had found these ponies using insane things. Towers that go past even the clouds, flintlocks that can shoot thousands of times without reloading. That sort of stuff.”

“Afterwards,” Steel continued, “The guard investigated his ship, and, as it turns out, he had a couple pounds of fermented poison joke.”

“‘Fermented poison joke’? What do you mean?” Arcane questioned, “I heard of poison joke, but not the fermented stuff.”

“Ah, it’s a pretty new thing.” Steel explained, “It turns out that if you treat it right, poison joke can become a ‘recreational drug’. I think the list was something like… Relaxant, hallucinogen, something, something, addictive.”

“Ah…” Arcane murmured, “Do you know anything else?”

“About the poison joke? Or the sailor?” Steel inquired,

“Both.” Arcane answered with a nod.

“Well,” Steel began (again), “The poison joke came from someone near the everfree forest, and if you ever get on that stuff, I won’t have to kill you. It’ll make you sorry enough itself.”

“As for the sailor, he ran away, never to be seen again. And, the story kinda died with him. Now, it’s just the ramblings of a high drunk.” Steel finished as he and Arcane entered their house.

“Hmm... “ Arcane murmured to himself, losing himself in thought for a few moments.

“So, what do you want food wise? It’s almost dinner time.” Steel asked as he made his way over to the kitchen.

“Umm… I dunno, what do we have?” Arcane questioned in reply as he followed his brother.

“We’ve got… a pizza I could heat up… some veggies… maybe enough for a couple hay burgers… Mexicoltan… Or we could go out.” Steel listed off, “I dunno about you, but some nachos seem like a good idea.”

“Alright, let’s go with that.” Arcane decided with a nod.

“Sweet, I’ll cook this up.” Steel expressed, turning on the stove.

“I can do it-” Arcane began, only to be cut off by Steel.

“No. No you cannot.” Steel responded, his tone implying there wouldn’t be any room for discussion.

“... Fine.” Arcane said, “But I’m telling you! I can cook now!”

“You said the same thing when we were kids, and then you burned toast into a liquid state.” Steel deadpanned,

“That was years ago!” Arcane protested,

“Only a few.”

“Come on… come on… Yes! 20!” A shout of victory rose from one of the normally abandoned corners of the Black Bow coffee shop.

The shout seemed to have came from a fiery red earth pony with a cutiemark of a pair twenty sided die with the numbers, ‘1’ and ‘20, who, along with four others, surrounded a decently large table. Said table was currently burdened with a multitude of parchment sheets are dice.

At the head of the table, a rectangular red oak screen divided one figure from the rest of his companions. The screen itself was divided into three sides and connected by some magnets, on the front of each side, a different carving took up the once bare wood.

On the left side, a huge stylized dragon did battle with a small minotaur gladiator. On the right, a detailed shield with the words ‘The Dice Giveth, and The Dice Taketh Away,’ with the likeness of a twenty sided die under it.

And finally, on the front, a group of two ponies, a gryphon, and a zebra stood proud. And, behind them, the figure of a large cloaked unicorn stallion levitated two dice in his magic with a sinister grin on his face.

All in all, it was a very fancy screen.

The figure behind the screen, who, behind his dark cloak was actually a zebra, seemed to be the one in charge of the party. And, if him being at the head of the table didn’t give it away, the fact that, whenever he spoke, the others would fall silent, would.

To his left, the red coated stallion brushed his deep orange mane out of his face. And, to his right, a black maned pegasus ruffled his chocolate brown wings, his cutiemark of a stylized burst of wind laid faithfully on his rear.

Next to the brown stallion, a grey furred unicorn sipped at a cup of coffee, his cutiemark of two axes crossed over a scroll sitting content on his flank.

And, taking the final place at the table, Arcane Quill enjoyed a game of Ogres & Oubliettes with his, new, group of friends.

“You charge heroically forward, battle axe in hoof, and, you bring it down on the lich’s head. Roll for damage.” The zebra said in reply.

“Alright…” The red stallion murmured, taking an eight sided die and giving it a roll. “Aaand, five!”

“Your battle axe splits the lich’s skull and travels down the first few vertebrae of it’s spine. It falls into a heap, dead.” The zebra finished, removing a figurine of an undead creature from the map in the middle of the table.

“Alright, Zyon, I’ll move to take out the remaining undead with my crossbow.” Arcane spoke up, gesturing to the other undead figurines on the map.

“Alright, take your rolls.” The zebra, who identified as Zyon, said with a wave of his hoof. And, a few seconds later, the sound of dice rolling filled the air.

“The undead fall under your mighty crossbow, with a crossbow bolt sticking out of either their head, or their torso.” Zyon praised with a nod.

“So, Arcane, you play often?” The brown stallion asked, “Cus’ it seems like you know what you are doing.”

“Not really, I’ve only played once or twice, what about you Styled?” Arcane asked in reply.

“Only a little, I think this is my… third-ish game. Honestly, Battle and Zyon are the ones who play all the time.” Styled replied, gesturing to the grey furred stallion and the cloaked zebra.

“Hey! I play too!” The red stallion protested,

“Not really Chance. At least, not as much as these two.” Styled shot back with roll of his eyes.

“True that.” The grey stallion added with a smirk, “I am named Battle for a reason.”

“Alright, I think that is all we’ll have time for tonight.” Zyon announced sadly, “It’s getting a bit too late to start the next part, so, let’s call it here.”

“Awww…” Chance sighed loudly, “Alright… I’ll wait for next time.”

“When will we be playing again? I don’t want to leave you all without a cleric.” Arcane asked with a chuckle,

“Uhhh… I dunno, how about next week?” Zyon shrugged, putting the idea in the air.

“Same time?” Battle fished, looking for clarification.

“Yeah, is everypony alright with that?” Zyon clarified, and, was greeted with a unanimous agreement. “Alright, see you all then.”

With the dungeon master’s last words, the group dispersed into the late night crowds. Leaving only Arcane, Styled and Zyon at the table, with the former two helping the zebra pack up all the sheets and dice.

It didn’t take long, a few minutes at most. And, at the end, Zyon left the two stallions to their musing with barely a ‘farewell’. But, they both understood the reasons, the zebra was sure to have a busy day at the hospital tomorrow.

From his own words: ‘Turns out, creating an explosion of light tends to destroy windows. And, funnily enough, ponies don’t seem to like falling on glass. Who would’ve thunk it?’

“So, what do you do for a living?” Arcane asked, slowly finishing off a mug of decaf coffee.

“I do art, mainly carvings.” Styled replied with a shrug, “I even made the DM screen Zyon’s using.”

“Really? Good job, it looks amazing.” Arcane praised with a nod, “I might even commission a few things in the future… Maybe.”

“Thanks, I think that one is one of my favourite, just behind a deco hilt… I’m not even sure where that one ended up…” Styled murmured the end, looking out into space.

“‘A deco hilt’? Who was that for?” Arcane asked, curious.

“I think it was for a guard, not sure what the name was. It was a good while ago, so I’m not surprised if it changed hooves…” Styled explained, tapping a hoof on his chin, “It was a beautiful thing, in the center, a stunning citrine crystal shaped into the likeness of the sun. The hoof guard had carvings of dragons and fire, and to tie it all in, the customer commissioned a blacksmith to add some gold highlights to the pommel, and, to tie it all in, a fiery ruby, enchanted to keep the sword strong and sharp.”

“It was truly a work of art. With four different craftsponies working on it… I’m glad to have been one of them.” Styled exclaimed with a sigh of happiness.

“Did it have a name?” Arcane urged, happy to learn more about his new friend’s passion.

“Yeah, the owner called it ‘Solar Fury’, Quite fitting if you ask me.” Styled continued, still staring out into space.

“Why’s that?” Arcane asked, trying to keep the conversation alive.

“Aside from the details, the citrine had something in it, and don’t ask me how it works, cus’ I’ve got no idea. But, when it gets hit, be it from magic, or kinetic, the energy gets transferred into the sword. And, if you used enough force to break it, it’ll just use that force to make itself stronger.” Styled paused for a moment, thinking about how to give the sword it’s due, “Add in the fact that it’ll get sharper as well as stronger, and, the capability to add on more layers of enchantment that would gain the same empowering effect… Hay, I even heard that the buyer was going to add a few fire enchantments on it…”

“Wow… That’s... “ Arcane stammered, the power of this weapon finally dawning on him. “Just… wow...”

“I think I should head off now, I’ve got some commissions to catch up on in the morning.” Styled sighed sadly, “I’ll see you next week, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll see you then.” Arcane replied, tripping on his words a little.

“Alright, see you then.”

Someone is coming… We need to make our move...

The fractured being’s mind was in turmoil, two different options were given. And neither were desirable.

Leave them. We will make our move if we are needed. And only then.

And such is how things went, sitting outside the window, peering in at their savior. In a form made more of gas then of solids, making the being almost completely transparent in the moonlight.

We shouldn’t wait. You know how… efficient they are...

But if we intervene, we’ll attract too much attention. They’ll take a more active role in hunting us. And, by extension, our savior.

Fine… his blood will be in your paws...

We shall see…

After Styled had left, Arcane decided to chill in the coffee shop for a little while longer. The only reason being his own procrastination to leave the warmth that had found itself inside the aforementioned coffee shop.

Ordering another decaf, Arcane moved from his table to the main bar, where half of the other inhabitants had already claimed. Near the left end, a small party of two ponies and minotaur seemed to emit merriment, in complete denial of the time.

So, like the stallion he is, he made the logical decision to sit… at the other end of the bar.

And, before long, someone else joined him.

With barely a sound, a gryphon clad in a light brown cloak sat next to the blue unicorn.

“What’s up?” The newcomer asked, his voice deep and gravely.

“The sky, despite my best attempts to bring it down.” Arcane replied, enticing a chuckle from his new companion.

“Fair enough, I don’t think I’ve heard that particular answer yet. Name’s Typhoon. Yours?” The gryphon greeted, extending a claw for a hoofshake.

“Arcane Quill. So, what brings you here at this time of night?” Arcane asked, accepting the aforementioned shake.

“I could ask the same thing to you.” Typhoon said, avoiding the question.

“That you could.” Arcane shrugged, before returning to his coffee.

For a while, the two just sat there, enjoying the coffee this place was known for. And, if Arcane had paid more attention, he would’ve noticed the figure watching from the window to his right.

Unfortunately, The gryphon did.

“That your buddy?” Typhoon asked, his voice near a whisper pointing out the figure on the windowsill.

“Who?” Arcane asked dumbly, looking in the direction the gryphon was pointing out.

‘THUMP’

I seem to remember mentioning that this would happen...

This is not the time to have this discussion.

"Agreed, first, let’s remove this abomination from our sight." The being muttered, straining to keep the rage out of his voice as he returned to his almost-solid form.

Before any other comment was made, the wolf smashed through the glass separating him from his target. The Gryphon seemed surprised that the being was able to retain a solid form, and thus, was wholly unprepared to deal with the charging beast.

The others in the room acted no better, the patrons at the bar either, in the ponies’ case, fell back and ran off, or, in the minotaur's case, backed up slowly, trying to stay out of the brawl.

The other ponies scattered around the room seemed to take initiative and removed themselves from the general vicinity of the fight, and, ironically, sat down to watch.

In the end, the Barkeep’s reaction was the most interesting. Instead of running like other ponies, he reeled to grab an old worn warhammer situated on the wall behind the bar. But before he could do too much, the wolf hit his target.

Due to his leap, the first thing that hit the gryphon was his claws. And, despite his ethereal look, they still sank a good few inches into the one known as Typhoon’s chest, knocking them both onto the floor.

With a twist, Typhoon knocked his attacker off him and rose into a fighting stance, pulling out a hand axe that was, previously, hidden in his cloak.

Snarling at the prospect of losing his new found prey, the wolf once again charged, the mist leaking from it’s eyes flashing and pulsating.

As the wolf closed in, the gryphon swung his hand axe, catching the beast in the side of it’s head. The force causing it to sink in for a few inches, an eye for an eye.

But, this didn’t seem to slow the wolf, instead, the light in it’s eyes changed with a flash.

From the icy blue, it had now became an angry red.

And, with his eyes, the mist that made up his body took on a slight red tinge. Changing from the calm view of galaxies, it now shuddered, twisted, and flashed. Becoming all the more chaotic.

“Motherbucker!” Typhoon screeched, stumbling back before grabbing another hand axe and taking the offensive.

The wolf expected this, ducking under the double axed swing and latching onto the side and neck of the gryphon with his jaws. Much like the wolves of old would take down deer.

Blood flooded the ethereal wolf’s mouth, it’s coppery taste bringing all the more satisfaction it him. But, alas, it wasn’t to last.

Typhoon was ripped from his jaws by the blunt stopping power of a warhammer backed up by earth pony strength.

The gryphon seemed to take offense to that, and, instead of retrieving his lost hand axes, he grabbed out an odd looking wooden contraption.

In a split second, Typhoon had taken aim, and… fired.

In another split second, Ashen Brew fell to the floor with but a peep, the copious amount of blood showing all the wolf needed to know.

“Lucky shot, you ruinous piece of shit.” The wolf growled, before lunging forward and ripping the gryphon's throat out.

Before long, Typhoon choked to death on his own blood. And, with a quick growl, the rest of the patrons of the bar ran off into the night, leaving only the wolf, a pair of corpses, and a unconscious Arcane.

“And this is why, you listen to me.” A wolf growled to itself as it moved over to Arcane’s limp body.

I’ll be sure to remember this next time.

Arrrgg… oww… ehhh…

Heh, it seems he’s out for the count. Enjoy your power, it won’t last long.

The final comment from his subconscious drew only an eye roll from the wolf. Momentarily taking his focus away from his current task of dragging Arcane away from the coffeeshop.

“At least I’ve got power. Unlike someone else I know.” The wolf jabbed, enjoying the fact that it got his conversation partner to shut up for a moment. ”Now… let’s get this done quickly. That gryphon fuck smelled awfully tasty, and it’s been too long since I’ve eaten a good kill…”

Please don’t…

Deciding to ignore the other’s opinion, the wolf continued to move Arcane towards his home. Unsurprisingly, the panic drawn from the fight had awakened a good majority of those who live near the coffee shop. But, thankfully, the wolf and his cargo was able to make it to their destination without being seen.

“Now, where did that brother of his run off to?” The wolf muttered after dragging Arcane onto his dining room table.

Maybe he is still asleep?

“I doubt it. If he was a true warrior, he’d be going to the fight.” The wolf shot back, “Anyway, will you awaken the prime personality? I’ve done my part.”

I didn’t expect you to give up power so quickly… Who are you, and what have you done to my brother?

”Hardy har har, just wake him up already. I’m fucking tired.” The wolf said with a roll of his eyes.

Your will be done, your royal bitchiness.

Before long, the wolf returned to his original color scheme with a shudder. And, not long after that, he returned to the forest, licking his wounds. Leaving Arcane to be found by his brother in the morning.

When morning came around, Arcane was awoken by the sound of a, very, angry brother of his.

“WHAT THE BUCK HAPPENED!? WHO’S BLOOD IS THIS?!?” Steel screamed, shaking Arcane awake.

“Wha? Stop yellin’, my head hurts…” Arcane muttered as he pushed Steel off him and rubbed his head.

“Nonononono! You’ve not getting out of this! What the buck did you do last night!? I close my eyes for ONE MOMENT! AND YOU COME HOME LIKE THIS!” Steel continued, ranting a raving Arcane’s ears off.

“Calm! Calm your face!” Arcane yelled back, grabbing Steel and giving him a solid slap across the face. “Now. Explain what you are yelling about.”

“You. Are. Covered. In. Blood!” Steel explained, loudly. “What did you do?!”

“I’ve got no idea what you are talki-” Arcane cut himself off as be became aware enough to notice that, yes, he was actually covered in blood. “I’m sure there is a perfectly logical and reasonable reason for this.”

“There better be…” Steel muttered as he removed himself from his brother and went to his whisky cabinet. “I’m running out of booze…”

Arcane sat there for a few moments, unsure on how to respond to his brother’s current priorities.

“I’m going to take a shower…” Arcane said, not even bothering to wait for a response. Only feeling the need to, A, get himself off this bloody table, in both meanings of the word, and B, to be rid of all the blood.

‘I’m not sure what’s worse… not knowing where it came from… or knowing…’ Arcane brooded as he opened the door to the shower and started getting the water running. All whole time, turning his necklace end over end. ‘Maybe I should ask the wolf?’

Thinking over his options, Arcane stepped into the shower, letting the water run through his fur. Unsurprisingly, the water came off a muddy red with a few small leaves scattered around.

After a while, the water started running clean, leaving Arcane to sit in the steamy shower, thinking about his life choices.

‘Yeah, that seems like the best plan. Maybe I could see Ashen on the way…’ Arcane pondered, turning off the shower and grabbing a towel. ‘The last thing I can remember… What was I doing? I think… I was in the coffee shop… I had been playing with some new friends… And then… A gryphon?’

‘What was his name? Ty… Ty… Tynoon? Typhoon? Yeah, that’s it! Typhoon!’ Arcane mentally cheered, slowly piecing everything together. ‘He… he wanted… something. A gravely voice… a question… and then… something. What was it?’

After drying off, Arcane returned to the dining room to clean off the table, only to find his brother, Steel, strapping on his silver Militia armour.

The armour looked faintly similar to the armour of the Royal Guard, but with a few differences. The most blatant would be the lack of white fur. Instead of making the coat of the wearer a uniform white or dark grey, it kept the fur the same. The reasoning behind it as simple as it comes… Time, and bits.

Where the Royal armour would be gold plated, the Militia armour had forgone this aesthetic improvement and kept the silver look. The same could be said for the fur enchantment, and, due to the maintenance of the militia armour being left to the wearer, the lack of fur enchantments kept the maintenance times to a minimum.

Another bonus to the different color scheme, is that officers would be able to quickly notice whether they are dealing with the highly trained and heavily armed Royal Guard, or, the guerrilla tactics of the Militia Guard.

But at the same time, the forces they were fighting would have the same advantage, so, just like that, it becomes a double edged sword.

“What’s going on? I thought you’re on a break?” Arcane asked, confused.

“I was on a break. I’ve been called in, apparently there has been a murder or something.” Steel explained darkly, “I think the sitrep was… One dead, one in critical condition, one missing, one case of illegal weapons, smuggling, attempted kidnaping, and a few other things.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.” Steel sighed, moving into ‘Guardstallion mode’, “I don’t think you’re in trouble this time, but we’re going to need to bring you in for questioning.”

“Okay? I’m not sure if I’ll be much help, but if you say so…” Arcane replied quietly, a little overwhelmed with the current developments.

Steel stayed silent as he strapped on his shortsword and wingblades. With the sword as standard issue, and the wingblades for his race, obviously, he wasn’t much for customisation.

And, before long, they were off… in the direction of the coffee shop.

“Umm… isn’t the Guard's station the other way?” Arcane pointed out, confused once again.

“Yes. But we’re going to the crime scene, maybe you’ll remember a few things if we go there.” Steel explained bluntly.

“And where is the scene?” Arcane inquired, trying to get a hold of the situation.

“The ‘Black Bow Coffee’ shop.” Steel answered in his ‘Guard voice’. The voice he uses when he is working, the voice, of no emotion.

“Oh…”

The rest of the trot was silent, neither party willing, or wanting, to hold a conversation. And, not long before they reached the coffee shop, they were joined by another Militia Stallion, who, unsurprisingly, remained silent.

What was surprising, was that instead of the standard shortsword, the new guard had a pair of short battle axes. And, on top of that, from Arcane’s perspective, the new stallion’s fur was only just darker than the silver of his armour. But at the same time… he looked familiar…

‘What was his name? Barge.. Brigot… B… B…. Battle! He was… playing a game with me and… Zyon… and… the others.’ Arcane realised, turning to the new stallion and asking, “Battle? Is that you?”

“Yep, and it looks like you’ve got yourself in a fine mess.” Battle replied, shuffling in his armour uncomfortably. “What did you do anyway?”

“No idea, all I know is that I woke up covered in blood, and that I’m, probably, not in trouble.” Arcane explained with a shrug. “And on top of that, I’m having a bit of trouble recalling what happened last night.”

“Discipline…” Steel hissed at the other guard, who, in turn, snapped back into a rigid trot.

“Fine… I’ll stay quiet…” Arcane muttered, ‘Well… Steel is, very, pissed…’

Before long, the trio came within sight of the coffee shop, which, wasn’t looking the best. The glass windows out the front and side were trashed, shattered glass covering much of the grass around the building.

The door had been knocked off it’s hinges, and from what he could see, the interior wasn’t much better.

Aside from the main bar being taped off, there was blood splattered everywhere, and a few bloody weapons were scattered around the floor.

Unfortunately, it only got worse the closer they trotted. And, once they had entered, Arcane was a little bit green, mainly from the dead body near the middle of the bar.

Although it was covered with a sheet, Arcane could still make out chunks of bloody muscle scattered around the body, and, on top of that, the large pool of blood that was seeping under the sheet wasn’t helping the situation.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Battle and Steel passed Arcane over to a gold armoured stallion who was backed up by a pair of silver guards.

Before Arcane could even consider running, the Officer noticed his presence and called him over.

“Alright, what happened?” The officer asked, his voice giving away the fact that he, really, didn’t want to be there.

“I-I’m not sure, I remember… playing with a few of my friends at that table,” Arcane started, gesturing to the table he had sat at, “And after… I… sat at the bar, and enjoyed some coffee…”

“And after a bit… A gryphon, Typhoon, sat next to me… and I think he pointed something out? And then… something.” Arcane finished, trying desperately to remember what had happened.

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” The officer growled,

“I-I don’t know, just, something. A… pain maybe? I don’t know…” Arcane tried to explain, “I don’t remember anything after that…”

“Maybe this’ll jog your memory.” The officer grumbled, pulling the cover off the body.

It looked horrible.

The gryphon’s neck was gone, leaving only a gaping, bloody, hole. His side was mutilated, claw and bite marks riddling his hide. And the blood… it was everywhere. Arcane couldn’t even see the original color of Typhoon’s feathers. And that’s not all, the stomach looked like a manticore had ripped it open and has halfway through eating him out.

Before Arcane could form any reply, a large bang filled the air. The officer he was talking to’s head exploded with a shower of gore, and not a moment later, two more explosions signaled the end of the officer’s personal guards.

“GET ON THE GROUND!” A voice shouted from the entrance, causing Arcane to turn, only to see a group of three gryphons, an earth pony, and a zebra charging in.

The gryphons were clad in a familiar cloak, two of them were brandishing a pair of flintlock pistols in their claws, whilst the third and final one was wielding a longer, more powerful, weellock rifle.

The earth pony on the other hoof seemed to be in a heavily modified version of the normal militia armour. Instead of favouring mobility, this armour looked more like the suit Ashen had worn, with interlocking plates covering wherever they could, and the other areas being covered by chainmail and a underbarding of reinforced leather. Said earth pony was currently turning a militia guard into a kabob on his side mounted lace, and, from what Arcane could see, the pony would be able to fall back on the massive battleaxe sheathed over his back.

Finally, the Zebra.

Clad in reinforced, blacked leather armour, with what looked like a cape of dragon scales being proudly displayed on his, no, her back, and ending with a hood that was loosely pulled up around her head.

With what looked like a black cloth around her muzzle, obscuring her identity, the zebra danced around the guards, killing them with precision hits with her foreleg mounted knifes.

All in all, Arcane was almost shitting himself.

Barely a moment later, the earth pony was chopped in half by a wave of icy blue energy. And with the energy, a bright flash of the same colour foretold the entrance of a very familiar wolf.

"Thou hast tested Our patience for the last time! Now face thy doom!" The wolf howled, charging the rifle wielding gryphon.

Arcane, frozen by fear, was thrown behind the bar by the form of his brother. Who, after glancing at Arcane to make sure he was behind cover, charged the zebra with a war cry, brandishing his wingblades.

“Buckbuckbuckbuck!” Arcane quietly cried to himself, as he inched over to Ashen’s door. “Don’t see me, don’t see me, don’t see me…”

He had almost made it to the door before the wolf was launched into the space in front of him.

“You’re going to regret that!” The wolf cried, his voice cracking into another’s voice halfway through his cry. And at the same time, causing a rush of air away from him.

Not a moment later, the death cry of a gryphon filled the air. But, that didn’t mean anything to Arcane, his mind was wholeheartedly focused on one goal. The goal of survival.

But, even then, he was destined to fail.

The back door was busted open by another earth pony, this one clad in the same armour as the first, but instead of a lance and battleaxe, this one wielded a great sword in his jaws.

Fortunately, the pony ignored Arcane in favour of attacking the wolf, but, unfortunately, another zebra, equipped in a similar fashion to the first, followed behind him, who, unlike his pony brethren, saw Arcane.

Arcane didn’t have a chance to escape, the zebra was quick in his strikes and before Arcane could make a sound, he fell to the floor, unconscious.

In the eyes of the firey wolf, the battle was truly glorious. In his opinion, it had been too long since he had a good brawl.

But, that changed pretty quick.

Once Arcane had fallen, the other guards were quick to follow. Be it in a bloody last stand, or a dishonourable backstab. And, before long, the wolf was the last one standing.

I count three assassins, a few firing lines of gryphons, and enough heavy infantry to give even us pause. We should stand down, we can’t fight all of them.

‘If we give in, what will happen to our savior? We shall stand till the last. And, if that means we fall in this battle, then we shall bring as many of these fuckers with us as possible.’ The wolf mentally pointed out, reinforcing his claws with his magic.

Fine. Make sure to mark the assassins, we cannot lose track of them, it’ll be our undoing.

With the remains of his fractured mind in agreement, the wolf began his last stand. Charging forward to slice through three earth ponies with his magically enhanced claws, twisting at the last moment to dodge the barrage of small arms fire.

Once landing, the wolf charged once again at the firing lines, scattering all those he didn’t kill.

His claws bloody, he twisted mid air to dodge a well aimed strike from a zebra assassin, once landing, he rushed forward, grabbing the foolish assassin’s neck in his jaws. Once grabbed, we turned the body to catch a thrown hand axe, once the axe landed, he threw the, now dead, zebra at the slowly regrouping gryphons.

Barely pausing to pick a target, the wolf launched off the ground to rip a wing off of a gryphon who thought it would be a good idea to charge in with his saber.

Once the gryphon landed, the wolf grabbed the saber in his paw, launching it at another assassin who caught it in between her eyes.

With almost all the assassins killed, the wolf turned his attention back to the firing lines.

Said lines had reformed and were preparing another barrage of rifle fire. But, they barely got a shot off before the wolf was upon them.

The wolf aimed for the gryphon that was organizing the firing line, who, had drawn his saber once he saw the wolf leaping at him. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t enough.

The wolf used his right set of claws to mutilate the side of the gryphon’s face, and, once the hit landed, he shot out with his back legs to catch a pair of gryphons who were rushing to aid their commanding officer.

Unsurprisingly, all three of them fell with a shower of blood.

But, it seemed that the wolf forgot about the last assassin.

Right between the vertebrae of his neck, a leg mounted knife severed the spinal cord of the beast. Bringing an end to his rampage.

At least, that was the plan.

The op was going to shit.

It was supposed to just be a simple kidnapping, but, they hadn’t accounted for this kind of power.

Typhoon had been insistent on carrying out his own mission, even though it was against protocol for a officer to go onto the field without backup. He had said, ‘It’s my own damn mission. If I was scared of a fucking unicorn, I wouldn’t be an officer.’

But at the end of the day, they had to secure the objective. Failure wasn’t an option.

No one was sure how Typhoon had died, the only one to know would’ve been himself. So they went in hard.

The Guards weren’t going to be a big deal. For all they were worth, they’d just be a minor inconvenience.

This wolf on the over hand…

Skyhammer was the overarching commander of the mercenary group’s operation in this area. He was a veteran of a great many operations, and, he was the pride of any minotaur in his profession.

His armour consisted of three layers. The first, was a suit of dragon scales backed up by reinforced leather barding. The second, a thick chainmail layer, made to stop any strikes that could get past the third layer.

The third layer was, in fact, a full set of dark steel platemail.

All in all, he was a walking tank.

His weapon of choice was a double sided greataxe, as long as he was tall. Heavy enough to crush most armours, and sharp enough to cut through dragons as if they were hot butter.

But even he was having second thoughts about this op.

After the zebra assassin had scored a hit on the beast, it had exploded in a great ball of fire, completely destroying the building they were in, to the point that he was worrying about if they had pulled the target far enough away.

But that was only the start.

After the building was demolished, a much larger version of the wolf rose out of the rubble, it’s coat a crackling green.

“Send in the armoured troops! Hold it back whilst the cannons load!” Shyhammer ordered, pointing to the other minotaur units who were clad in full platemail and were wielding a range of hammers and axes.

With a nod of confirmation, a group a six minotaurs charged the unholy beast. But, before they could make contact, the wolf appeared behind them in a large flash and a cackle of thunder.

The minotaurs didn’t even turn around. They fell forward, legs going one way, chest and head going the other.

“Cannons! Lay down covering fire! Troops! Fall back and regroup!” Skyhammer ordered, grabbing his great axe off his back.

The cannons were slightly more effective than the minotaurs, with huge six barrel rotating cannons that shot out balls the size of watermelons, and a full crew of five to reload them. Sat ontop of a heavy pivot, they were able to move a full three sixty degrees, and, with another pivot under it, it was able to move up and down for better aiming. On their own, they were a threat, but, Skyhammer had a squad of four on hand.

A few moments after the order was called, the sound of cannon fire filled the air, making sure any villagers who still slept were awoken. And, after he had gotten to the rally point, Skyhammer turned to see a intriguing sight.

Before the op, they had planned that, worse case scenario, the commanding team would fall back into an old guard tower. And, due to his new elevation, the minotaur commander was able to clearly see the cannon emplacements.

Said cannons were opening fire upon the wolf, who had erected a thick shield around himself, causing the cannonballs to smash up against the shield, sinking a few feet before remaining lodged in the shield.

The strangest thing was, the wolf was smirking.

“Moronic Foals. I wonder how they ever hoped to defeat me.” The wolf growled to himself, barely straining himself to keep the shield up.

The cannons only had an effect because he allowed it. For he could crush them all with a single thought, but he didn’t. He humored them for a time. He gave them a chance to realise that they were doomed to fail.

But, they didn’t.

If there was one thing he could admit them, he would admit that they were stubborn.

Not in the good way, where they would fight and win against impossible odds. No, they were the stupid kind of stubborn. They would fight, and lose, because they didn’t, couldn’t, admit defeat.

And for that, he will kill them all.

Once a sufficient quantity of cannonballs had been built up, the wolf dropped the shield and launched the cannonballs caught in it towards the cannon emplacements.

It was an easy feat, with all the cannons being set up in close proximity to each other. And, due to a lucky hit, one of the cannons collapsed and the lit fuse rolled into the gunpowder stores.

Safe to say, the cannons went out with a bang.

With the cannons destroyed, the wolf turned his attention to an old guard tower. From what he could see, the commanders of the forces had set up shop in said tower.

It was amusingly simple to teleport into it.

Once he had gained entry, the wolf weaved a wallflower spell around himself. He knew, although he was powerful, he still needed to find his savior.

Once he snuck into a makeshift command center, he took note of the general discord that was taking place within. Everyone seemed to be in a rush, packing up what they had, and preparing to leave.

“You! What’s the condition of the Objective?” A large minotaur boomed, pointing at a gryphon in a black cloak and leather armour.

“Primary Objective it secure, secondary objective is M.I.A, presumably retreating. Forces are at thirty six percent strength, and communications to Central are down.” The gryphon rattled off, glancing at a clipboard he had procured from a nearby table. “The cannon crews are K.I.A, as are Phantom team one. Overwatch is in place, and is ready to extract the V.I.P.”

“Bring the Objective to the roof, Overwatch will evac him from there. Tell the troops to pull back and return to base.” The minotaur ordered, “The rest of the high ranking officers are to fortify the roof for extraction. I don’t want any more issues from the Tangos.”

“Sir, yes sir!” The gryphon snapped to a well worn salute before rushing off to follow his orders.

Forcing himself to remain silent, the wolf began a slow sneak over to the minotaur commander. ‘ Cut off the head of the snake and the body dies...’

With the rush of the command room, it was easy to get behind the commander. But the problem lied within the kill.

Due to the minotaur’s triple layered armour, it was near impossible to kill him without compromising his wallflower. And, if that fell, he would have to get out of sight before recasting.

So, he was left with an… unconventional answer.

Whilst most spell casters would go for the flashy, high powered spells to deal damage. It was entirely possible to ‘supercharge’ a simple spell into a force to be reckoned with.

And that is what he did.

Using a simple telekinesis spell, the wolf gripped the minotaur’s heart and then, using a teleport spell, removed it from his body.

‘ Crude, yet effective.’ The wolf through to himself as he used the general chaos caused by the commander’s death to escape to the roof.

Author's Notes:

And there we have it! Chapter 4.
The part where everything goes to shit.

Now, I'm sure everyone knows the song and dance by now, but, for those who don't:
Drop down a comment if you have any suggestion, typos, or, if you just want to chat. I read everything down there.

Chapter 5 (Edit 1)

{Chapter 5}
“SCP-1440: Before you perish, my poor child, allow me to give you a word of advice.
Dr. ████: Go ahead.
SCP-1440: Should you choose to challenge Death to a game of cards for your life, there is one thing you must never do.
Dr. ████: And what is that?
SCP-1440: Win.” - Item #: SCP-1440 Interview Log 1440-7

“Go go go! Get the bucking Objective out of here!”

“Command is K.I.A! I repeat, Command is K.I.A!”

Voices cried around Arcane, stirring him from his forced sleep. And, before long, the sounds of gunfire joined them, forcing Arcane into wakefulness.

“Errhhh… my ‘ed hurts…” Arcane groaned tiredly, trying, and failing, to rise. “Wha? Where am I?”

Around him, he could only make outlines of what he assumed to be bindings over him. Everything else seemed to be obscured by a brown sack that was tied tightly around his head.

And, before long, it only got darker as the form of a… Gryphon? Fell on top of him, leaking something… ‘Step one… Don’t think about it.’

Resisting the pull of fear, Arcane began attempting to wiggle out of his restraints, trying desperately to ignore the sounds of fighting around him.

His makeshift plan was going well all things considered until the ground under him began moving. Thankfully, the restraints seemed to be anchored into the floor, but, it was enough of a shock to make him pause for a moment.

‘L-let’s just think about this for a moment… I’m tied down, I can’t see anything, people are fighting around me, and whatever I’m on is moving.’ Arcane mentally stammered, ‘The last thing I remember was… the Coffee shop. And then… Mercenaries… and the wolf... ’

‘I really need to name him… How about Star? Yeah. That’ll work for now.’ Arcane silently rambled, trying to keep his mind off of his surroundings. ‘Wait… that wasn’t there a moment ago…’

During his inner monologue, the familiar shape of his golden elixir manifested under his chin. And, like usual, it gave off a feeling of: ‘You know you shouldn’t eat me, but you really, really want to.’

‘Maybe…’ Arcane thought for a moment. ‘But, I’ve got no bloody idea what it’s made of! It could kill me!’

Unsurprisingly, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp… something, cutting its way through the floor with a bang. And with it, the bag around Arcane’s head became quite loose, allow him to see the bone claw sticking up from the wooden floor not barely over an inch away from his muzzle.

“KILL IT!” A voice shouted from somewhere behind him, and with it, the sound of gunshots followed. Thankfully, they weren’t directed towards Arcane. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the claw from moving.

“Nopenopenopenope!” Arcane screeched, flailing around desperately. And for once, the universe gave him a good roll.

With a mighty snap, Arcane was freed from his bondage, allowing him to fall back into the side of an armed gryphon who, up until now, was shooting things.

“Oi! Bugger off!” The gryphon yelled, pushing Arcane back into his corner. But, luck seemed to be in Arcane’s favour for once.

With the push, Arcane tripped over the golden elixir that had, previously, been resting under his chin. And, with the trip, the elixir was flung into the gryphon’s face, shattering against it and causing the runes on the inside of his armour to overload.

And, as Arcane knew so well, runes didn’t like overloading. At all.

Unfortunately for the gryphon, he had recently taken to using a fire rune to make his rifle shots a bit more powerful.

FWWABOOOM!

The whole side of the aircraft lit up in magical fire, burning away any other gryphons on that side. And, judging by the death calls, there were quite a few caught in the fire.

As he rose from the floor, Arcane took a moment to capture the area around him. Behind him, a flock of four Pegisi and a pair of gryphons pulled the flying cart he found himself on. To his left, magical fires burnt away the corpses of mercenaries, quickly making their features unrecognisable. To his right, four gryphons were unloading their weapons into a starry green mass that assaulted the cart.

The figure looked faintly like a green version of the wolf, but, this time, i-he had tinges of black and red flashing along his fur. But, the most noticeable difference was his size and shape.

Unlike a stable, a-bit-larger-than-pony size, this creature was massive.

It’s form constantly fluctuating and changing, becoming something… demonic, something… impossible.

And to top it all of, it wasn’t even a wolf anymore. It looked like something straight out of Tartarus, claws and spines bristled all around it, a multitude of arms and legs slashing or kicking at the mercenaries as it reenacted a scene better fitted in a ‘Kraken’ movie.

The air around it was filled with screams and cries from the mercs, but the creature himself maintained only a low growl, separated by barks of rage whenever a merc would score a lucky hit.

And, even from Arcane’s position, he was still able to feel an aura of fear coming from the creature. Not the fear of getting in trouble, nor the fear of seeing a being of immense power, no, this was different. It was a fear that chilled the very bones of those around it, the fear that makes your spine crawl and the temperature of the room drop by a few hundred degrees.

Pure, untainted, primal, fear.

It took a considerable amount of a willpower to stop himself from bolting, and only half of the reason was the fear aura. But unfortunately, Arcane didn’t have the luxury of time at this point in time as he attempted to shake off the sense of terror and make for the front of the carriage.

Arcane passively took note of the fact that, surprisingly, the carriage was at least five meters in length. And, with the extra weight of passengers, cargo, and the other passenger, it was unlikely that the flyers pulling would be able to travel very far.

‘Maybe there are a few enchantments? Or even a few medium power runes running off the Gryphons? I’m pretty sure they don’t need much magical assistance to fly…’ Arcane pondered, ‘Focus! Examination later, survival now!’

Regardless of his inner-thoughts, the blue unicorn made it to the front of the carriage. And, like he hoped predicted, he found a set of saddlebags.

‘Field scribes. Everypony needs them when taking on a military, or in this case, renegade operation.’ Arcane noted smugly as he removed some basic writing tools from the bags. ‘As much as I’d love to not need to manually power it, I’d rather not waste time looking for a suitable conduit.’

Taking only a few moments to mark out some runes, Arcane started running the arcanic calculations in his head. Trying to find a way to not end up splattered across a half mile of countryside.

“Make sure to carry the three… add in possible debris… Better round up, too much rather than too little… Drop the nine, wind would cover me on that front... “ Arcane murmured, mentally preparing himself for the drop ahead. “Please, please, please, please, don’t buck with me universe!”

And, with the word ‘universe’, Arcane jumped off the side of the carriage, making doubly sure to pre-charge his horn for the drain ahead.

Unfortunately, Arcane’s moment of courage ran shorter than hoped for, and with it, what magic he had gathered dissipated into nothing...

“BAD IDEA! BAD IDEA! VERY BUCKING BAD IDEA!” The stallion screeched, his voice raising a few octaves throughout his cry.

Six thousand feet…

Five…

Four…

The ground was getting a bit close for comfort… And yet Arcane continued to scream his lungs out.

Thankfully, Arcane, more or less, gathered his wits and attempted to restart his horn. ‘Come on, come on, come on!’

‘I’m going to have such a sore throat after this…’ He silently complained to himself as he continued to scream. ‘Come ooooon!’

Just a few moments before impact, the unicorn’s horn flickered to life, igniting the drawn runes and activating their effect.

‘THUD!’ The sound of a stallion making contact with the ground rung out across the countryside, and, a few moments later, a large explosion blasted its answer.

‘Owwww… Buck me, that hurt… Now, where was that explosion? Arcane thought to himself, nursing his bruised forehead, ‘Alright, if the smoke trail is any indication, I’d say the carriage ‘landed’ a few miles away from here…’

‘Maybe I should take a look at it? Hm…’ Arcane mused as he sat his rump down and looked over at the tattered remains of his runework. ‘No. Just… no. I’m not in a horror movie, I’m not going to be a dumbass about this.’

‘Better idea, stay here and make sure I’m alright. Anypony nearby would’ve seen the explosion, it’s only a matter of time before somepony finds me.’ The blue stallion planned, shuffling around for a slightly more comfortable spot in the dirt. ‘Regardless, I’m not sure I want to see the wolf just yet. Wait… What did I call him again? Stair… sta… star! Yep, that was it, Star.’

‘But what about the others? From what I’ve seen, it’s not just Star in there. How about calling the angry one ‘Hunter’? He seems like one at least.’ Arcane reasoned, allowing himself to be distracted from the current events. ‘And the last one… what to call him? How about Andril? Seems fitting at least. Altogether, how about they be the ‘Archon’? I think that was Old Equestrian for something… not sure what though…’

‘Anyway! Next time I find them, I’m going to need to get their side of the story… I’m still not quite sure what happened...’ Arcane sighed, looking down at his restored necklace. ‘Didn’t Star say something about this being our ‘link’ or something? Does that mean I can call them? How would I do that? Channelling magic into it? Runic circles? Hmmm….’

‘Why can’t these things be simple?’ Arcane pouted, his ears folding against his head.

After a few minutes of waiting, Arcane began to fiddle with his necklace, attempting to find it’s secrets. Be it through magic, angrily glaring at it, or just chanting random gibberish. And before long, the golden Elixir once again appeared under his chin.

“What the buck? How?! How do you do the did-done-ding?!” Arcane fumed, descending into half-hearted madness. “Wait…”

“Elixir…” Arcane murmured, raising the aforementioned object with his magic. “Necklace…”

“Hmmm…. This is either going to explode… or work.” Arcane thought aloud as he slowly brought the two items closer to each other. “Maybe both?”

Steeling his resolve, the blue unicorn thrusted the two items together, smashing the glass around the elixir and covering the necklace with it.

For a moment, nothing happened.

And for a moment after that.

And the moment after that.

“Well… That was disappointing.” Arcane sighed, shaking off some of the excess liquid and returning the necklace to its proper placement around his neck. “Where is everypony? I expected at least one by now…”

“Maybe I should go find Jekyll… he’s gonna be soo pissed when he finds me…” Arcane mused, “But he’ll be more pissed if I don’t find him… right?”

“He’s going to eat me either way, won’t he?” Arcane deadpanned, letting his head fall to rest on his forehooves. “Well… least I’m not boring…”

And so, he sat there idly staring at the rising smoke from the crash site on the horizon. Listening to the whistling of the wind through trees nearby. Enjoying feeling the green grass that filled the meadow he landed in.

“Well… it could be worse.”

DEATH, MURDER, KILL, DEATH, MURDER, KILL!
Hunter raged, urging Andril to murder all of the petty mercenaries. Whilst Star remained silent, mulling over the memories of the other personalities.

Andril, in contrast, was a hurricane of anger and death, bringing the survivors of the crash to a sudden death via tooth and claw. It was uncharacteristic of him, but for now, it was all he knew.

‘Show them… true fear… End their petty existence… Punish them for their sins against you…’ A grave voice whispered to Andril, and him alone. ‘They have forgotten us… we must remind them… of the fear we once sowed… in the Old World…’

But, before long, the survivors dwindled and died, leaving the raging beast with no target for his rage.

Breathing heavily, the Archon slowly shrunk to his normal form. And, once he had ‘reset’, Andril returned control to Star before retreating into his mind to slumber.

Now that was some real fun! Truly something to return to!

"We would rather not. Thou lasted barely minutes, thou art foolish to think that was ‘fun’." Star angrily criticised as he stretched out and began walking away from the crash.

We never got this kind of action when we were with Him! Surely you’ve missed it.

”Thou shalt never mention him! That was a dark time, and We need not thy reminders!” Star spat, fuming slightly. ”Regardless, thy thoughts art incorrect. We miss not this… slaughter.”

Then, why do you fight?

“We believe the saying ‘the ends justify the means’ would fit.” Star quoted, ending the argument in it’s entirety.

But a few moments after the argument, something shifted in the back of the Archon’s mind. A little change, unnoticeable to most, but not all.

It felt almost like if one would unclench a muscle that they had tence for as long as they remember. A change that was at the same time, major and nigh-unnoticeable.

And, moments after the shift, more feelings followed.

A feeling akin to a tube running out the back of his head, a tube that flowed a small trickle of emotion. A feeling of… curiosity, another of restrained sadness, and one of fear.

Star took note of them but didn’t vocalize his findings. He remained focused on his trek through the countryside, which, all things considered, was quite peaceful. With only his other selves, the occasional pony, who, unsurprisingly, ran at the sight of him, and the quiet background noise of trees swaying in the wind, for company, Star found himself at peace. Heedless of what happened a few moments ago.

For some reason, it reminded him of a song, one he never remembered hearing, but still, it reminded him of it.

“Dear fellow traveler… underneath the moon… I think I’m growing weary and I hope you come soon...”

Clink

Clink

A deep sigh joined the clinking of bits being stacked. The bits lain upon a worn spruce table, either in neat stacks of five or in piles of random number. On each bit, stamped into one side, was the Equestrian flag, which shone prominently with the image of a pair of Alicorns circling the cartoonish image of the sun and moon. Around the edges of the flag, small stars were all in uniform lines, two rows thick.

On the other side of the bit, a number one took centre stage, flanked by a pair of feathers. Above the number, the words “Harmonia Nos Sustinet” were written in flowing hornwriting. Under it, the bulky letters of “Bit” were presented, seeming slightly crude compared to the rest of the coin. And finally, around the edges, stylized vines and plants brought one’s attention to the centre.

The table, like the bits, had its own sense of majesty. Its legs were slightly curved outwards, whilst the wood was covered in small details and an add-on of silver filigree to add to the dark spruce the table was made of.

Around the sides of the table, carvings of battles played out. Heroes and monsters from battles long since fought. Tales inscribed on spruce, tales of mighty paladins, lowly rouges, and beastly hydras, even a few of gods and demons.

But, taking center stage was the top of the table. Dented into the firm spruce, the picture of a Draconequus skull flanked on one side by a stylized demon wing, and on the other side, an Alicorn wing. Around the skull, six elongated hexagons surrounded it, and beyond them, on the side of the Alicorn wing, was the stylised imprints of powerful flames going from the side of the table inwards. On the demon side, vines and other plant matter reached into the middle of the table, and, spread throughout the plants were images of thorny roses.

All in all, it was very fancy.

Around the table, an old room made of logs and planks stood silently, with no windows to allow light in, all of the light was from a flickering candle on the edge of the table.

Other than the table, the room was quite bare. With only a chair taken up by a figure, and the only way into the room, a trap door on the south wall, directly behind the chair. The figure, who sat over the table, looked to be a middle age hippogryph, clad in master-crafted leather armour.

Around his chest, the leather seemed to be attached to a decently thick dragon scale chestplate, which had the likeness of a dragon head added on in darkened silver paint. Around his shoulders, the leather thickened and darkened into large black scales from an even larger beast. But, unlike the usual suspect of a dragon, these scales seemed to be slicker, flowing into each other with an almost magical feel.

Regardless, added to the right shoulder pad in a white paint, was the insignia of a winged sword. And under it, a deep blue sapphire burned with a frosty passion. But, if one would look closer at it, they would notice that it was inscribed with flowing dots and lines, and if they were knowledgeable in the Runic Arts, they would see that the gem had a pair of runes running. Said runes being, Frost Aura, and Midnight’s Shroud.

It was an interesting combination, on one hoof, the Frost Aura made anypony around the wearer feel the air drop a multitude of degrees. But, where that is mainly used for intimidation, the Midnight’s Shroud had the opposite effect, causing the wearer to blend into the shadows and silencing their steps.

If anything, the combination was redundant, if only slightly.

“Your report?” The figure asked, his deep, gravely voice like sandpaper on the ears.

The one he was addressing, however, had only just entered the room from a trapdoor in the roof since there were no doors.

The new figure, unlike the old, was a zebra clad in an armoured cloak a black as night. Under it, one would take notice of a thick leather armour, backed by a set of Secondskin runes, allowing the wearer to move quickly and efficiently.

On top of the leather armour, a pair of bandoliers were hosts a multitude of different length knives. Some, the size of player cards, others the size of a ruler and a half. And, if that wasn’t enough, at the zebra’s side, a steel short sword inlaid with carvings of a majestic dragon completed the ‘assassin’ look.

“Jekyll has left the town. He took the traitor with him. The Shadows think it safe to assume it is for interrogation, and as thus, they have moved his capture to cobalt priority.” The zebra began, his voice thick with the accent of his homeland. “The Shadows are most displeased of your failure in the capture of a crimson priority target, and talks of your retirement are beginning once again.”

“Have they forgotten what I have done?! Have they forgot all that I have sacrificed for them!?” The hippogryph screeched, whirling around to face the zebra, his features full of rage. “I found them the cure! I bought low many a traitor with my own claws! And I captured the scorch rifle prototype!”

“And yet, you’ve failed what was a simple capture mission.” The zebra replied levelly, seemingly indifferent to the figure’s outburst. “But, for your service to the cause, The Shadows have allowed you to continue on this mission. You have three days to bring us some noticeable progress, or else The Shadows will have you assigned to the Purity project.”

“They wouldn’t dare…” the hippogryph muttered, his previous energy draining like the blood from his face. “The council wouldn’t allow it…”

“Perhaps, but remember who brought you into the fold.” The zebra reminded, before seemingly disappearing from the air with only whispers being left behind. “Three days… remember your place…”

“We need to move to the nearest garrison.” A guardstallion murmured to the lightly wounded form of Steel Quill. “Princess Celestia must be informed of what happened here.”

“Fine.” Steel spat in reply, as he scoured the ruins of his old town. “But I’ll stay, there might still be survivors under the rubble.”

“Sir, with all due respect, we’ve combed the rubble for hours, we haven’t found anything or anypony.” The guard replied to his aggravated commanding officer. “I know you’re waiting for your brother, but the Princess will need to hear your account of what happened.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. You want to abandon Brismane? Fine. But I’m not going to.” Steel shot back, as he shrugged off his battered and worn helm. “There are plenty of other witnesses for her to interview.”

For a few moments, the pair sat there, in the middle of the ruined barracks, if it could still be called one.

Two out of the four walls had collapsed under the strain of the mercenaries’ assault, and with the walls, the roof had been brought down, crushing and burying any supplies that had been left in there. Among the rubble, a few unfortunate stallions who held the building to their last had been left to rest. Their last rights being left until the town had been re-secured, if it ever was.

“But sir-” The guard began before being cut off by the reddening Steel,

“No buts! I am staying behind, and that’s final!” The pegasus shouted, causing the guard to flinch back slightly.

“Y-You can’t just brush off the Princess! S-she’s the Princess!” The guard tried, grasping at straws in an attempt to convince Steel. “Y-you just can’t!”

“Can’t I?! Where was she when we were being slaughtered? Why is she taking so long to send us help?!” Steel returned fire, further shocking the guard with his heretical talk. “So far, I have yet to see why she’s in power! A thousand years of peace? Horseshit! Look around you! War is on the horizon, the Celestia has done nothing to stop it! Where is her so-called ‘God-like power’? Why is she yet to smite those who march on our shores?”

“I’ll tell you why!” Steel continued, not giving the guard a chance to retort. “She’s a fraud! We live our lives as if nothing is wrong, but we still have families being torn apart by poverty and illness! Even the Elements of Harmony have realised it! After all the times she has sent them to deal with her buck-ups, they’ve started leaving her! Have you not seen the headlines about Twilight Sparkle, the element of magic no less, becoming Princess Luna’s student?”

“What say you in your mindless loyalty?! What say you!?” Steel ranted, punctuating his argument with a few solid prods to the guard's chest.

“I-I don’t-” The guard began, before taking a deep breath in. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. But I’ll be sure to pass on your resignation from the guard to the captain. I bid you good day sir.”

And with the final goodbye, Steel was left alone in the ruins. Accompanied only by his anger and mourning of his displaced brother. And even then, the anger burnt out fast, leaving only sadness.

‘At least Princess Luna tried… Even if it was futile…’ Steel sulked as he turned his head to the sky, watching as the weather crews brought in a heavy shower. ‘But should I feel this way? Surely there is a reason for Celestia’s behaviour… Surely…’

And yet, a nagging sense of doubt plagued him. Burrowing into Steel’s mind like a Tatzelwurm in the dunes, only getting worse as time went by.

“Where the hell are you Arcane?”

“What do I do now?”

A question asked by many, yet one with a great deal of importance...

A question asked by the young when they are bored...

A question asked by the old when they have fulfilled their dreams…

A question for the refugee, when surrounded with the tattered remains of their old life…

A question for the noble, surrounded by the finest luxuries money can buy…

A question for mortals and gods alike.

One with many different answers, all leading down different paths.

“You move on.”

A simple answer at best, unhelpful at worst.

But if anything, it is a fitting answer. An open answer for an open question, both with a great deal of meanings.

“How? I have nothing. My home is gone, I own only what I have on me, and everypony’s dead… Mum… Dad… Hell, even Steel…” Arcane murmured in reply, as he picked over the broken remains of Steel’s house.

”How do you know that?” Star rumbled in reply, his pelt slowly stitching itself back together. ”We are yet to find the body.”

“He was fighting beside us. There’s no way he would’ve survived your… moment.” Arcane solemnly explained, “At least, not if it was like how you described it…”

”As we said before, it was out of our control. You are lucky to have escaped with your life.” Star heatedly returned, his mist moving slightly more erratically.

“But at what cost? Why do we get to live, and they don’t? What’s so special about us in comparison to them?” The blue furred unicorn replied, a hollow feeling replacing his sadness. And in the end, Arcane can’t tell what’s worse…

”We survived because we’re stronger, the weak were trimmed like the branches of a great tree before the storm hits,” The wolf shrugged, as if it was obvious, ”At the end of the day, we succeeded where they failed. We lived where they died, as it has been for all of time. Only the strong survive, be it through cunning, skill, strength, or even misdirection.”

“But is that a life worth living? A life pathed by the deaths of others, a life where we continue only because of the sin we commit?” Arcane shot back, as he turned to face his partner. “When does the sin end? When do we atone for our misdeeds? Where does good end and evil begin?”

”We atone when another comes. We atone when we are struck down by a being stronger than us. We atone when we find the end of our trail,” Star cooly replied, his voice lacking his previous anger, being replaced only by cold resignation, “It is fate. And fate is beyond our control… despite our best efforts.”

“Is it though? Is it really fate? Or just a cruel interpretation of the wilds? Are we doomed to become monsters, regardless of us fighting said monsters? Endlessly fighting the evil of this world with our own, only to be struck down by somepony worse than us?” Arcane questioned, the images of armies marching against the darkness flashing before his eyes, “In the end, why should we fight the darkness if we are destined to become worse than what we are fighting?”

“Maybe there is no fate. In the end, we are mortals questioning the will of the immortals. Maybe there is no reason for fate or the beings above, maybe there is only a sick satisfaction gained by watching ants fight the tide. A satisfaction of having the lives of thousands in your own paws, their fates tied only to your will, their ideals being only a facade given to them by yourself,” The wolf sighed, idly drawing shapes in the dirt and ash. Images of cosmic deities, mortals, and constellations being drawn and whisked away with barely a thought, “We do not pretend to know what lies behind the doors of death, nor do We pretend to live forever. A long time? Yes. Forever? I am glad to say no. Regardless of the feelings of others, We find it comforting to know that in the end, when all is said and done, we can rest for eternity.”

‘The paws of fate care not for your wishes or feelings. If they believe it is your time, running will only speed your demise,’ Adril telepathically muttered, surprisingly monotone despite the current setting, ‘Whether you believe in them or not, you’ll die all the same. For the gods care not of the opinions of ants like us.’

‘Ha! This is philosophical horseshit at best. There are no gods! We carve our own fate, regardless of whatever beings are watching! For fate does not define us, we define fate!’ Hunter zealously ranted, causing one of the wolf’s eyes to momentarily turn a fiery red.

‘Regardless, we must keep moving. The Horror’s children move upon us, and we won’t have too long before they’ve sighted us,’ Andril murmured, once again taking hold of one of Star’s eyes, if only briefly, ‘The way I see it, we have three choices to choose from. We can wait here, and become the Horror’s prisoners, we can take the fight to those who dared cross us. Or, we can hide. Lay low until the suspicion dies down.’

“Wait a sec… is that… Steel?” Arcane murmured, as he peered through a hole in one of the ruined walls of his home. “It is! Come-”

‘Don’t!’ Andril interrupted, ‘The children of hell change form to hunt! He is only a trap, one targeted for you.’

‘Yes. I have seen such tactics, it is best we leave, before we join the faceless dead,’ Hunter confirmed angrily, his hate dripping off his words like poison.

“A-are you sure? H-It looks like Steel… Maybe he stayed behind to help us?” Arcane pointed out hopefully, “W-why would Jekyll be looking for us? We’ve done nothing to him…”

“No. We have intruded on his territory, that is enough to bring the ire of the Horror. We must be off, lest we be discovered.”

Sitting on the outskirts of Ponyville, towering over the buildings, was the six-legged monstrosity known as Abaddon. It’s ‘hull’ was decorated with the skulls of everything from dragons to hydras, and, on the top of its ovalish body, was a multitude of long, hollow cylinders, decorated with interconnecting scales, all of which were connected together with bones and tendons. Near the apex of the oval, or the ‘front’ of the beast, was the biggest skull of them all. At least, it looked like a skull.

It was larger than most chariots, and with enough teeth to make a hydra blush. With four glowing red eyes, two on each side of the skull, sunk into the sockets like a starving Zebrican, teeth the size of greatswords, and a rhino horn longer than a minotaur is tall, stuck just above where the nose should be. And if that wasn’t enough, a pair of extra tusks extended around the sides of the skull, and an extra set of hollow cylinders hung just below the chin of the beast. All in all, the skull was no less monstrous than any other part of the beast.

The skull, if one would look hard enough, still had flesh on it. It was similar to a starving pony on death’s door, but at the same time, it looked like it had enough muscle to crush buildings with but a thought. It almost was like someone wanted to make it look like an undead siege platform, but didn’t want to give up the strength of a living body.

But, in contrast, the insides of the beast wasn’t as fleshy as one would expect. If anything, it was damn near pleasant after being subject to the outer layers. The walls were made of a thick grey stone-ish material. The floors were made of metal grates over more grey stone, and, on the border where the two meet, was a repeating pattern of black and yellow. And to top off the ‘war bunker’ look, the doors were a solid plate of brass plated steel, with the likeness of a circular metal wheel in the middle, replacing the ‘normal’ door handles. When they opened, they didn’t open inwards, or even outwards, instead, they were just sucked up into the roof of the door frame.

But, at this point in time, all of this wasn’t important. At least, not to Ashen Brew.

The earth pony, after the loss of his coffee shop in Brismane, had been faced with a hard choice. On one hoof, he could’ve moved on, but, with barely enough bits to get by, and with no source of income after the destruction of his coffee shop, that wasn’t a very feasible option.

The other hoof wasn’t much better, a few hours after Brismane had fallen, Jekyll and his merry band of horrors came into town. Their reasons for this were irrelevant, but what was, was the fact that Jekyll the Horror, was best friends with Princess Luna herself!

‘Still sounds absurd… even after seeing it with my own eye…’ Ashen thought to himself, idly rubbing his lost eye with a hoof. ‘Damn him to Tartarus! All I want to do is hate him! Why does he make it so difficult?!’

Ashen sat in silence for a few moments, before thinking back on how he got into this whole mess…

‘It’s gone… I get out of hospital only to be met with this?’ Ashen brooded, as he walked through the ruins of The Black Bow. The eyepatch still itching against the tattered remains of his right eye. ‘Celestia damn that gryphon! Can’t even bucking shoot right…’

With a sigh, he sat heavily down on one of the few remaining chairs. The positioning of it sparing the mercenary the sight of his ruined livelihood.

“Well, I can say I’ve had worse than floor coffee,” A voice cut through the silence like a knife, it’s deep tone resonated from somewhere behind Ashen. “Here’s hoping the grinders and at least one press will still work.”

‘Of bucking course he’s here! First, he crippled me, and now he’s stealing my bucking coffee!’ The old cripple raged, before grunting a reply. “They do, just gotta twist the one on the left a bit.”

“Thanks, Ashen. You don’t mind me making floor coffee, do you?” The Horror asked as if he was capable of being polite.

‘Buck it. I’ve got no bloody life anymore…’ Ashen sighed, shrugging. “It’s ruined anyway, make what ya’ can out of it. Might as well take whatever else ya’ want, Ah’m ruined too,”

“I wouldn’t say that. A few boards, some paint, and a restocking are all this place needs to get back on its feet,” Jekyll taunted, ignorant of how normal lives work.

“Didja’ not notice the roof?” Ashen pointed out, drawing the monster’s attention to the lack of said roof. ‘Moron. Can’t even see past his bucking eyes…’

“Well, a few more boards and some shingles then. That’s just an afternoon of decent work,” Jekyll shot back, as the sound of coffee making filled the silence between responses.

“Where’m Ah supposed ta’ get that kinda bits? A coffee bar in the ass end a nowhere doesn’t make that much,” Ashen argued, slamming his hoof into the chair angrily, ‘‘Sides, I can’t have a business if everypony else has bucked off.’

“I suppose I could be convinced to give you a stipend, even though I don’t usually give my victims payoffs,” The monster once again taunted, causing the old bartender to turn in surprise.

“Ya’ serious? Ah’ hate ya’, ya’ dense monster, why in Tartarus would ya’ help me?” Ashen demanded.

“I like coffee and seeing this place fail because of a fight you had nothing to do with wouldn’t be right. That eyepatch looks good on you, by the way, really fits your whole persona. No offence, of course, just saying,” The monster replied.

“Buck. You. Ah’ don’t care if it fits mah ‘persona,’ Ah’ liked mah eye more!” Ashen spat.

“Do you want my money or not? Your feelings toward me versus your feelings toward this shop. I can leave and you’ll remain right in that chair with your ruined coffee and depression, or you can grit your teeth and accept enough money to rebuild as a token gesture of my desire to repay you for all that I’ve taken,” The deceiver offered, sounding more and more like the devil with every word.

“Why didn’t ya’ kill me before?” Ashen asked solemnly, surprising the devil in disguise. ‘Didn’t expect that one did ya’? Bucking arsehole.’

“During our first meeting? When you wore that armour? It’s simple. I knew neither of us were evil, so I made an effort to keep it that way. You were blinded by the lies about my deeds, I understood that, I think you’ll hear a similar story from everyone else that ever came after me. I cut and broke and bruised, but I never killed and I never crippled enough that they wouldn’t be able to find another job. I hurt you for sure, and it prevented you from fighting ever again, but you were whole enough to move on with your life, that’s why I didn’t kill you,” The tempter explained.

“Lies? Yer’ sayin’ that poster’s false?” Ashen pressed.

“I spend most of my time with Princess Luna, she counts me as one of her few friends. Do village burning monsters get to claim that?” Jekyll countered, most likely pulling shit out of his arse.

“Bull,” Ashen snapped, ‘Him? Friends with the Princess? Ha! He’s not even trying anymore.’

“Fine, I’ll prove it,” the liar replied before stepping out of the ruined coffee shop, and barely a few moments later he walked back inside and sat against a wall.

“Ah don’t see a princess,” Ashen pointed out impatiently, ‘Maybe he’s just insane? Not the most outlandish thing I’ve heard…’

“Give it about two more seconds,” he urged right before a popping sound announced a new arrival, “Called it.”

“What’s this? This coffee has been ruined. I’m too late to save you, dear beans, I pray you can forgive me,” Princess Luna lamented as she saw the state of the bar.

“Ashen here owns the place, we were just discussing a business partnership where I pay for the repairs in exchange for free coffee,” the tempter prompted, causing Luna to teleport in front of Ashen and give him a hard stare.

“I do enjoy a coffee in the morning,” Luna warned in the guise of musing.

‘Wha-how-what? This must be fake… it must be…’ Ashen reached out and poked Luna in the nose to confirm she was real, making her snort at the unexpected contact, “Mah word, it’s an honour ta meet ya, princess.”

“Please, it’s just Luna. Now tell me, what’s wrong with this deal?” Pri-Luna pressed.

“Ah can’t accept bits from this monster, Ah’ve spent too long hatin’ ‘im,” Ashen explained.

“I see, and if I gave you the bits?” Luna leveraged.

“Ah’d be almost honor-bound to accept them,” Ashen replied.

“Excellent. Jay, have the bits transferred from my account,” Luna instructed the monster, who surprisingly seemed compliant with being ordered around.

“Sure, no problem. Should I take them from your personal or the joint account though?” The horror snickered, confusing what remained of Ashen’s face.

“I assume you’d like some of that coffee too, better use the joint account so both of our names are on the deal,” Luna advised.

“Good idea, I’ll have them sent over right away,” Jekyll agreed.

“Am Ah missin’ somethin’ or are y’all talkin’ like ya got married?” Ashen asked once he found his voice.

“You’re missing quite a bit. Let’s leave it at that and not spread rumours, m’kay?” the monster warned, hinting enough to throw Ashen for a loop but vague enough to keep him quiet.

“This was fun, but I was promised coffee,” Luna pointed out.

“Sure sure, let me clean off some more. We should get moving soon though, no telling what insanity is going on back home without us,” Jekyll responded as he began preparing another pot of coffee…

The Princess had left not long after she had her coffee, and with her, the beast left Ashen to his grieving. And, with them gone, he was lost. The old mercenary was being given the bits to rebuild his life, and then some, yet he still knew, somewhere in his heart, it was futile.

While the money would keep him afloat for a while, unless the town rebuilt with him, he’d still be without a source of income. As anypony with two brain cells to rub together knew, you might have a store, but you still need ponies to buy your shit.

‘Maybe the Princess’ bits would be enough… she did express her love of coffee… Even if it was slightly… terrifying…’ Ashen shuddered, remembering all the beans lost to the princess’ great thirst. ‘What’s the point though? The traders have already blacklisted this place...’

The sound of the time-space continuum being ruptured heralded the arrival of the aforementioned Princess, who, even with all her majesty, still managed to visit the poor.

‘Still sounds like something out of a politician handbook…’ Ashed brooded, turning the town’s death sentence over in his hooves idly.

“Ashen? Are you well?” The dark alicorn asked as she trotted over to where Ashen had made his brooding wall.

“Noooooope, sold muh soul and got nuthin’ ta show fer it. Courier jus’ came through, town’s dead. No more traders comin’ this way, no traders no coffee, no coffee no shop. The Black Bow is finished an’ so am I, jus’ leave me ‘ere ta die,” Ashen quietly sobbed, brandishing the letter as though it were the most dangerous weapon he’d ever seen.

“Ashen, where’s everypony else? I can fix this if the townsponies help me,” the naive princess urged, still uninformed of the troubles of the day-to-day stallions.

“Gone, dead, both. It’s over. Steel’ll stay till Arcane shows, then they’ll go too,” Ashen predicted somberly, ‘If the kid ever does make it back…’

“I’m sure this was a wonderful place, but if that’s true then there’s no saving it anymore. If ponies would come together and seek help from each other, then we could’ve saved Brismane,” she lamented, sitting against the wall next to Ashen, joining him in his depression.

“Ashen, Jekyll said there was one pony in this town he liked. He said that pony could live aboard our leviathan until he was back on his hooves. He didn’t say who, but I’m fairly sure he was talking about you,” she confided, seeming slightly perkier with the hinted proposition.

“Fer’ the irony, Ah’m tempted…” Ashen began before pausing to mull the idea over, ‘It’s not like I’ve got anything else…’

“Beh, screw it, Ah’ll come ‘long fer now,” He sighed, before chuckling slightly, “Heh, mebe Ah’ll find somethin’ there that’ll help me kill the bastard.”

“It’s called the cure and he doesn’t keep it there, I’ve never even seen the stuff myself,” the princess replied with the bluntness of a rock.

‘Wait… what in Tartarus is she wearing? Is that… platemail? Where did she get that? Why even would she?’ Ashed questioned in surprise, “Damn. What’s wit’ the armour anyway? Ya weren’t wearing that before.”

The armour was stunning, and if he didn’t know better, Ashen would’ve guessed it was made out of the ruined remains of demons.

The undersuit was a deep crimson, still quite a few shades darker than blood. Along the material, which he could only assume was treated leather, lines of golden filigree and embellishments softly glowed under the afternoon sun, similar to that of the alicorn’s mane.

On top of the suit, a set of shoulder pads connected to the menacing black steel, at least Ashen thought it was steel, of the chestplate. The pads were covered once again with golden filigree, and yet, this time, they seemed to form words of a long-dead language. The right shoulder holding the words: ‘Ex profundo inferni ad summa cacumina, me nunquam falter, nec non tueri quid ego tenere cara.’, whilst the left held the words: ‘Populus meus, mea, thesaurus. Fortitudo mea, eorum arma. Mea ira, cras.’

The chest, unlike the other parts it was connected to, bore the likeness of an ancient demonic skull upon its otherwise smooth exterior. The black steel being further complemented by the addition of two fiery rubies, placed within the eye sockets of the beast. Attached to the main plate by blackened steel scales, four thigh length boots were in place. Looking like something from the dragons’ ancestors, they had golden bars, inlaid with silver and red dust, twisted around them almost like the border to a painting. On the hoof of the armour, a claw-like appendage stretched from the back of the hooves, only further adding to the Draco-Demon style of the armour.

Finally, to tie the whole set together, a draconic helm was attached to the side to the suit. It’s four detailed horns being split into two parts, with two of them curving around the sides of the helm before ending not too far from the mouth, whilst the other pair twisted backwards, curving down were the princess’ neck would be. And, as if the suit wasn’t demonic enough, instead of a standard horn hole, the helm twisted around where the horn would be, similar to a thick, and spiky, wireframe design.

“I commissioned it a while back, and it was just finished a few minutes ago…..I don’t think I can get it off, not by myself anyway,” the warrior princess revealed, keeping her voice casual despite the menacing tone of her armour.

“Ya got somethin’ stronger than coffee on that thing?” Ashen asked as he finally stood, ‘Damn… this ain’t the princess I saw in the papers…’

“If you mean alcohol, we have plenty,” she answered.

“No point moping around here, ya got a chariot or somethin’ comin’?” Ashen wondered before looking at the princess just in time to see her once again bend reality to her will.

“Nope, we take the faster route. The one with the big head is Tzu, he can get you set up with a room and teach you how to get what you need,” She instructed as a familiar figure approached.

“Sup,” the horror greeted as he looked over the former mercenary standing dumbly next to Luna.

“You were talking about Ashen right? I took a guess,” Luna confessed.

“Actually I was talking about that guard, Steel, it takes a lot of guts to stand up to a pissed gryphon covered in weapons,” he taunted, his demeanour seemingly oozing ego.

“Buck ya’ too ya’ old codger,” Ashen spat.

“Hey, Tzu, come help Ashen here get settled in so we can get moving,” he called, ignoring Ashen for the time being…

“Speak o’ tha’ devil…” Ashen murmured to himself, as he heard the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway leading to his room.

The room itself was quite spartan, but unlike the halls, it had wooden floors and log walls. Making it seem like he wasn’t in the middle of a walking death-fortress-monster-thing, even the door was different than the others. Instead of the normal metal sliding doors, this one had the texture of a dark oak door, but, unlike a normal door, it still was sucked into the roof when opened.

“Where tha’ bloody Tartarus did ah’ just put ma’ ‘ammer? Ah’ still owh’ tha’ monster a beatin’...” He grumbled as he pulled his warhammer up onto his shoulder, bracing himself on the wall to the left hoof side of the door. ‘Wait for it… waaait for iiit….’

Shlick,

Thump!

“You shouldn’t mistreat your equipment Ashen.” The deep voice of Jekyll rumbled through the warhammer resting on his face.

“Gotta try,” the earth pony replied, pulling out the warhammer and once again resting it on his shoulder. ‘Least I surprised him this time.

“If you ask nicely, I might have my smith make you a better one,” The tempter once again lived up to his namesake.

“Horseshit, the Silver Swords only use the finest weapons and armour. Ah’d be hard pressed ta find a smith that could hope ta match them,” Ashen rebuked.

“What about a demon that has been practising that trade since the dawn of time?” Jekyll proposed.

“I-how do you know a demon?” Ashen asked, taken aback by the casual tone in reference to one of the dreaded creatures. ‘Was my soul not enough for you?! Bucking arsehole…’

“I saved the world about a thousand years ago, accidentally conquered Tartarus in the process. That would be one of those things that nopony would believe, they’d dismiss you out of hoof on the assumption that I’d have killed them all by now,” The liar explained, saying just enough to keep his hostile guest quiet later on.

“Ah can’t figure why ya’d lie ‘bout that, shite. Ya’d let me have a new hammer, knowing Ah’m gonna attack you with it every chance I get?” Ashen confirmed.

“It won’t matter, you can’t hurt me with blunt force. But I think you’re the type who’d appreciate it more than a place to rest your head and some money. On that note, did you get any coffee in yet?” He rambled in reply.

“Aye, but it’s the generic swill. Good ta wake ya up, but not so easy on the tongue as my regular stock,” Ashen informed, ‘Let’s see how you handle your coffee, monster…’

“It’ll do for today, there’s a sleepy alicorn in my room with a craving for caffeine,” The monster ‘graciously’ allowed, “Let one of the enforcers know where to get the good shit and they’ll make it happen.”

“Will do,” Ashen agreed as he gently set the remains of his hammer against the wall and walked over to a small bar, soon returning with two steaming mugs, smelling of kerosene. ‘Celestia damn it! I should’ve set up a camera for this! Good Celestia, his face! Bwahahahaha!’

“Is this acid?” He asked as he began to nurse the cup of liquid energy.

“Nah, Ah got no problem with yer missus. It’s just a bit on the strong side,” Ashen reassured, as he used all his years as a stone cold mercenary to accomplish one simple goal...

Keeping a straight face.

“Strong he says,” He joked as narrowly missed the doorframe with his newfound energy., “Thanks Ashen, catch you around.”

‘Damn. He’s still talking normally. I’ll need to make stronger shit next time…’ Ashen noted, before grabbing a normal cup of coffee and making his way to the top deck of the death-tank-thing.

“Oi! Abba-what’s-ya’-face, got any popcorn?” Ashen asked the floor as he looked out at an Alicorn and a monster going faster than the speed of light. “Ah’ got ‘bout ten seconds ta’ enjoy this, and Ah’m not gunna’ do it wrong.”

“I do not, however, I do know where to get some. I can’t promise it won’t taste like cotton candy though,” Abaddon replied, seeming to enjoy the spectacle as much as Ashen was.

“Bwahahaha! Take dat’ ya’ bloody moron!”

Author's Notes:

Sorry if this isn't up to the usual standard, a lot of shit has been going on in the background and I've been having trouble writing.
Don't worry, we'll be back on the usual schedule soon. Just got a month or so to go. :/

Weapons_X's Note: The curse of the hobby writer, forever shackled to the tides of real life. Alas, nothing can be done to change this cruel fate for it is one we all must endure.

Chapter 6 (Edit 1)

{Chapter 6}
“They called it the witching hour, when the evils of the world would descend upon the innocent and steal them away for their own purposes. Others called it the devil's cloak, a time when the darkness was thickest and ne'er do wells could act as they pleased. For the many, it was the time to hide behind their walls and rest for the coming day. But for the few, for the few this was the day. For the few this was paradise, for the few relished in the darkness and faced the wolves of night with a grim thrill known only to them.” - Weapons_X, 11/30/17

Rain.

It’s nice to look at, or even listen to, but not so fun to be stuck in.

Sure, being cold is annoying, but being cold, wet, and miserable? Normally, one would seek shelter until the rain passed on.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much shelter in the middle of a paddock.

With a snort of irritation, Arcane continued trudging through the mud and muck brought about by the bucketing rain. It had been like this for the last five hours, to the point that even Star had thrown in the towel, disappearing into his mist, leaving the blue stallion to his own thoughts.

The last few days were showing their toll on Arcane, even without his coat being plastered to his skin. His eyes had lost their spark of curiosity, leaving behind a haunted and grave look. His hooves were chipped and worn from walking on days on end, and his mane even more unruly than usual.

Maybe it was the pressure of the Archon? Or maybe the pain of losing his home for the second time was catching up? Or even the stress of being pursued by the remnants of the mercenaries was bringing him low?

Three days. Before now, he’d’ve been complaining about the lack of hours in the day, now, he’s only wishing for a break.

Arcane was exhausted, running on autopilot for days on end was the only way he was able to keep going. Barely thinking, or even talking. Just walking forward with a grim determination, occasionally dodging a guard patrol or a wandering mercenary.

At this point, he didn’t even know where he was going. Away seemed like a nice place. Better than Here at least.

“You!” A tone dripping with hate and malice cut Arcane from his autopilot, bringing his mind back into focus.

Before him was a once proud hippogryph, his feathers worn and dishevelled, eyes reduced to pinpricks and marred by scars and still bleeding wounds. The ‘gryph quiveringly brandished a medium sized curved sword contrasted it’s owner’s appearance uncertainty in his left hand, betraying his difficulty wielding a weapon on that side.

It was of fine silver, polished to shine in the growing darkness, even the hilt ignored the tradition of wood or gold in favour of continuing the trend of shining silver. The only difference between the blade and the hilt being the lack of sharpness on the latter, giving it a simplistic yet elegant appearance.

“I’ve found you, you little shit!” The hippogryph bellowed as he slowly advanced on Arcane, the tattered remains of once elegant leather armour barely holding onto his form. As he approached, a slight grin of mania prominent on the mercenary's face.

Arcane, taking a step backwards in surprise, quickly took note of the long, thick crack running down the right side of the hippogryph’s beak and the two missing claws from his right hand… claw… thing. ‘What was the terminology for their fore-hooves again?’

And, for once, the blue stallion attempted the diplomatic solution… with varying degrees of success

“Who in Tartarus are you?!” Arcane screeched, hoping his natural ‘charisma’ and ‘charm’ would surely save him from this crazed maniac. But, despite swearing that he could hear whatever gods watch over him facepalm in annoyance, his… inquiry had made the maniac pause in his slow shambling.

Instead of answering, the hippogryph began giggling madly; his eyes seeming to shrink beyond what should be natural. Then, with a mighty heave, the ruins of whatever being was once in him launched the silver blade…

Into the ground next to him, much to the relief of Arcane’s blood pressure. As Arcane relearned how to breathe, he saw the hippogryph proceed to lean on his sword for support in his maddened giggles. It was eerily similar to a character from the Batmare comics, the laughter of an insane creature without reason or passion, only the madness spread through its veins like a sickness or poison.

The giggles turned to laughter, even getting to the point that tears of blood streamed down the face and beak of the once proud hippogryph.

“Of course you don’t remember!” He spouted through his mania, “There isn’t anything to remember!”

Leaving the sword behind, he moved forward closing the distance between the two before there was barely ten paces between them. Still fully shrouded in his mania, he proclaimed proudly, “But lookie here! No wolfie to save you now!”

Arcane, frozen to the spot, glanced down to his necklace, mentally pleading for help. But, he only got a feeling of pulsing, burning energy emanating from it, to the point that crackling red electricity danced across the surface of it.

“Ohhh? That’s where he’s been hiding!” The eagle pony continued in his maddened laughter, drawing a flintlock pistol from his tattered armour. With a click of the hammer locking into place, the laughter ended and his voice turned to one of a cold, calculating machine. “No escape for you now.”

“Capture and secure… alive.” A voice, barely above a whisper but still audible to both parties. No emotion, no mercy… and no drive behind it. Only the monotone of something dulled by time and pain. And with the voice, a pitch black shadow fell upon the halfbreed, ignorant of the dull glow from beyond the clouds, “Back to purity, maybe you’ll be of more use for us.”

Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, the eagle pony fell to the matted, sopping wet grass, his orifices oozing half clotted, dark crimson blood. The tide enough to push his eyes from his skull, leaving them to float away with the crimson flood pooling around the body and slowing being sown into the ground from the harsh rain.

Falling back, Arcane put as much distance between him and the body as he could before the raising bile forced him to the ground.

‘Even after all that has happened... and after all that he had been through... he was still a pony... Pathetic…’ A voice weakly whispered in the mind of Andril, who, with the other two consciousnesses, opted to remain dormant, despite the magic of the hippogryph being long since dispersed.

Maybe it was the faint tears in Arcane’s eyes, or maybe it was just the unsettling feeling that came with watching another’s pain. Regardless, Andril, the green-ish wolf, pushed his attention to investigating the halfbreed’s magic.

It was strange, unlike pony magic, or even the magic of the long forgotten demons, this seemed… unnatural, sickly and powerful in an angry, tainted way. Where the magic of ponies would have a warm, glowy feeling, this magic seemed… alive. Alive in the same way that a ghoul was. Alive in a way that just by looking at it, one could tell that it shouldn’t be.

‘Not to mention… Hippogryphs shouldn’t be able to cast active magic. I do remember one who channelled passive, but not active… At least, not without some… interesting deformation.’ Andril pondered, mentally turning over the memory of the magic. ‘It seems… similar to demonic magic, or even changeling magic, but it lacks the… fire of the former, and the malice of the latter. Maybe Jekyll has gotten around to mastering magic transplants?’

‘No. He wouldn’t give something like that to a halfbreed… maybe the influence of an artifact of some kind?’ Andril dismissed before turning his attention back to Arcane.

Said pony had finished ejecting the contents of his stomach and had resigned to gulping the damp air of the fields. Perhaps in an attempt to stabilize his raging insides? Perhaps just to procrastinate looking back to the corpse?

There wasn’t much to be done for the poor stallion, if anything, making their presence known would only worsen the moment. And, unfortunately, Andril didn’t have any philosophical bullshit to fix, or even calm the situation.

So instead, the green wolf weaved together an invisibility spell and emerged from his resting place. With the invisibility, he made his way over to the corpse, making a point not to disturb he who already has been disturbed.

By now, the body had stopped bleeding, and the bulk of the blood had been washed into the earth, leaving only a thin layer of watered down lifeforce coating the fur. Even then, it was slowly dispersing with time.

Casting a quick slash of pure magic to open the back of the hippogryph, he slowly began opening the body and investigating what is left. It was grizzly work, but one necessary to the betterment of knowledge.

‘But that is how it starts... doesn’t it? The ends… justify the means?’ The dark voice softly chuckled in the back of his mind, only worsening Andril’s mood.

A cut, a snip, a pull, a tug. A scan, a ponder, a rinse, a repeat.

By the end of it, there were fewer results than before. With no talismans and no signs of tempering, Andril was left with only speculation. But maybe, just maybe, it was for the better.

The crash of waves battered the weekend hull of an old fishing boat. Breaches littered the barnacle encrusted sides of the ship, and with each passing second, gallons upon gallons of seawater flooded the decks.

The stars glittering and shining upon the black canvas of the sky, looking down upon the doomed vessel with pity and sadness. For tonight, another carcass will fall to the depths.

But not if the sailor had anything to say about it.

The old minotaur fought against the winds and tides, fighting to keep his ship above the murky abyss of the waters. The sail whipped and flailed about freely on its slack tethers, having already claimed the life of his First Mate when he tried to wrangle them.

Cuts and bruises crowded his arms and chest, some from the sail, some from the terrors of the deep. The crimson blood flashing with each lightning strike, the sore and tender muscles stinging with each drop of rain.

It was a mistake, coming out to the seas. He should’ve listened to the signs. Thoughts of grief and self-doubt swam through his mind like the terrors surely awaiting him in the depths.

“Raaargh!” with a mighty heave of the waves, the ship was overturned and the greying minotaur was lost beneath the tide…

…

Long after the ship had fallen, a single scrap of paper, miraculously dry when one considered where it was. Written upon it, in the crimson flowing writing and language of the ancient minotuarian prophets and oracles, it’s words speaking the words of the stars themselves…

‘Another lost to the other side, another clawed into the depths of the machine. Fear no death for none cometh’. Yet ye’ who heeds the siren’s call, fear what thou finds, for only pain awaits.’

And with its message given to whatever gods listen, the parchment was dragged below the raging tide. Leaving only the whispers of pain, and the echoes of the slain haunting the waves and breeze.

But that was the way of the world, no? The cries of the dead endlessly calling out to the living, tempting them with half-truths and lies. And sometimes, sometimes they call with the bittersweet truth, of an existence of the void and endless cries to those who run from Death…

In the end though, Death catches all. Even those who sing the song of immortality, those untouched by time, untouched by pain and fear… for forever is a long time, and Death can wait for even longer…

He knew it was a dream… but he still couldn’t escape it…

It wa-felt real, the pain that spiked with every step, the terror battering at the edge of his mind, like a wolf clawing at the door. And most of all, the fear pulling his sanity into a death spiral, like a pegasus strike with a stray lightning bolt.

The eerie chimes playing a haunting tune, the darkness absorbing everything beyond his muzzle, the cold wind chilling his bones like a windigo, and the salty tang of the tears streaming down his face. All of these feelings, too real for where he was. Too real for a dream... too real for a nightmare…

Memories blurred, names faded and sights changed…

Who was he? Was he Arcane Quill? No. He couldn’t be...

He wasn’t even a pony, let alone a unicorn…

Then what was he?

A... wolf of some kind. A real one, not one of magic like the timberwolves…

Grey fur covering his body… red blood leaking from numerous wounds covering his hide…

Too real… yet so surreal…

Slowly, with each step forward, the darkness was pushed back. Changing from pitch, to the darkness found during the night. Illuminated only by the moon and stars peeking through the slowly appearing forest around him, he started to make out the finer details of the forest around him…

Some shrubbery here… some doe tracks there…

He didn’t even know what doe tracks looked like… yet he did…

Moments pass, but to him, it could’ve been hours. Hours of stumbling forward, fearing what could come from behind any of the trees…

Hours of the damned chimes, endlessly haunting his bloody and battered ears…

The tune seemed… random…

Like the chimes on the front porch, softly swaying in the breeze, playing a tune that would’ve once been calming…

And just as he started to tune it out… it ended.

Leaving only the sound of leaves and the soft pulsing of his heart to accompany him…

Somehow, the silence was worse than the noise…

…

One paw in front of the other, left front, right back, right front, left back, repeated over and over… And with each step, each breath, and each moment, weakness and pain grew ever stronger…

And before long… he couldn’t even walk in a semi-straight line. He swayed from side to side like a drunk, his sight spinning and lurching. The feeling of nails being hammered into his skull, of needles pricking at his muscles, the knives continuously plunging into his gut…

Was this the gods’ idea of comedy? Watching their creation suffer and struggle for their amusement?

Maybe… maybe…

Maybe he should just… rest… here…

He fell to the ground, his strength failing with his resolve…

And with his strength, darkness stretched around his vision… Calling to him… Promises of rest and shelter from the pain luring him into unconsciousness…

And with his vision fading, a hooded figure stood over his broken and damaged body… Saying only one sentence…

“Well… This won't do stranger.”

“Aaah!” A short scream cut through the silence of the early morn’. A few birds, disturbed by the noise, flew off into the sunrise with a flutter of activity. “Celestia damn it…”

“We do not believe she can banish nightmares. Was there not a new Princess for that?” Star echoed through mists of awakening.

“Y-yeah, Princess Luna.” Arcane stammered in reply, surprised by the literal answering. “It’s just a saying…”

“Is that so? Seems a little… egotistical for her to have it that way, no?” Star pondered, leaving his resting spot within the stallion’s necklace and wrapping his body around Arcane like a mother and a cub. “Asking for your leader to smite something whenever you are inconvenienced? Yet only one of the leaders, one of two or three, correct?”

“I-I think so, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are the only ones I know of at least…” The blue stallion confirmed, “I mean, I guess it’s one way of thinking about it…”

“Unsure even of who is in charge, aware of only one? Tis’ not something unheard of, We believe it was called... tyranny? We believe the leader in question said the same of one ‘Sombra,’ no?” Star inquired, his star-fur… stuff, surprisingly soft against the unicorn’s coat.

‘Surprisingly warm too…’ Arcane noted, “Sombra? Wasn’t he a dark magic crazed manic that took over the Crystal Empire? I’m not too sure, if anything, the Crystal Empire is a footnote in Equestria’s history…”

“Hmmm, We don’t believe magic had anything to do with it.” The star-wolf sighed a sad little sigh before continuing, “But, unfortunately, We are also lacking in Our knowledge of that time. So all We have is speculation. Still, ‘Those in glass houses.’”

“‘Shouldn’t throw stones,’” Arcane finished, mulling over the new information, “How do you know so much about history anyway? I had to dig pretty far to find anything on the Crystal Empire, let alone enough to know about Sombra…”

“We have been around a long time young pup, we... I, was old when your race was only an idea from the void. When your nation has rotten and collapsed into ancient history, We will still be here.” Star explained, punctuating the ‘young’ part with a lick to the side of the unicorn’s face. Lightly smiling at the flailing that followed, he continued, “Your race have your marks of destiny, telling you what you are, have been, and will become. We watch. An unchanging force from beyond time itself.”

“That’s… slightly depressing… Is that what you were doing before… me?” Arcane questioned as he attempted to rub off the slobber with a hoof.

“No.” The wolf grunted in reply, the mood darkening. “That was a dark time. One you need not question, pup.”

With the final word, Arcane was left on his own as Star retreated back into his necklace. Leaving him only more curious on the past of his mysterious friend.

‘If he even is a friend… Who knows what could be happening in the background…’ The stallion sighed to himself, before rising from his place in the grass. ‘I still wonder why Hunter had to… steal, the merc’s stuff… Egh… I feel sick just thinking about it…’

Carrying a dead po-Hippogryph’s belongings was not something he had expected to be doing when this whole… mess started. But, he had to admit, the sword was of good craftsponyship. As heavy as it was on his hip, it did… calm him, if only a little.

‘But, unfortunately,’ as Hunter had remarked, ‘The armor is too damaged to be useful.’

Personally, Arcane was grateful he didn’t need to carry it, much less wear it. His nightmares were bad enough without needing to deal with that.

‘Was there not a princess for that?’ Star mentally jabb-...

‘Wait….

Wait a moment…

Something was wrong with this picture.’ The gears within Arcane’s mind slowly turned, and before long, one plus one started to equal two.

“Please explain. Please.” The poor stallion begged, his ears lying flat with his head as his quick gait slowed to a stop.

‘Explain what, young cub? The meaning of life perhaps?’ Star teased, followed by a deep chuckle instead of any explanation.

“The… telepathy, I believe it’s called… Please don’t play games… I’m really starting to get tired of… everything.” Arcane complained in an almost monotone voice. The wear and tear of the last few weeks truly paying their toll.

‘The past beginning to catch up? So be it, I shall end my fun. Andril, if you will.’ Star replied with a mental wave of his paw.

‘If you wish.’ Andril telepathically bowed with thinly veiled enthusiasm. ‘As you know, we are an old being. Older than your princesses, and older than the monster they bargain with. But, before them, this land was wild. With no ponies to tame it, and no rules to follow. It was our own brand of chaos, the chaos of nature.’

‘Animals that would make the Grand Everfree Hydras look tame roamed the land, each generation stronger than the last. There was no apex predator, only us. In truth, there where those who hunted us. But they never succeeded, as you can see.’ The green wolf weaved the tale, images of forests with trees easily dwarfing the ‘skyscrapers’ of Manehatten. ‘Some came close, too close, to killing us. And with the monsters only becoming stronger, we hatched a plan. A plan most of our peers looked down upon for the longest of times.’

‘We did the unthinkable, we bound our souls together and gifted them to a mortal. The first mortal to ever wield the power of the gods themselves. It took us a long time, but we did find a mortal worthy of our power, he was one not of this world, one who was brought here by powers above even our own.’ Andril continued, the silhouette of a… oddly proportioned minotaur filled with four orbs of colour. The colours being the light blue of Star, the wild green of Andril, the fiery rage of Hunter, and a new one… A black beyond black, a black made of the darkest void… ‘He was nothing before us. He had not the shapeshifting power of Jekyll, the solar might of your Goddess, nor the reality-bending power of Discord. He was plain, a blank slate if you will. With iron will, and a steady hand, the mortal would be powerful if he had our power, and we knew it. So with the gift, this mortal of man crafted a home of his own, deep within the earth. A temple made in his vision, for his dream of a civilisation of his own.’

“And this history lesson relates to telepathy… how?” Arcane grunted, his hooves returning to their slow, dragging steps.

‘I’m getting there. Be patient.’ Andril snapped back before continuing, ‘Anyway, before long, we ruled the wilds. We were on top, and the other immortals began to lose power over their worshipers. Though, none as much as the self-proclaimed Avatar of Chaos.’

“So… Discord?”

‘No. During this time, Discord was merely a servant of this being. Barely even a lesser demon. This Avatar, in its prime, it was truly a force to be reckoned with… if it would shut up.’ An image of an immense blue, bipedal bird clad in silk robes and wielding a book that bled a mystic magical fog flashed before the stallion’s eyes. With the image, a slight shiver trailed down his spine at the thought. ‘Though, in his weakened state, it was unable to attack us directly, it slowly turned the other immortals against us. The Mother and Father of the Alicorns, the Greater Spirit of the Wilds, the Forgefather of the West, and many more flocked to the Avatar’s banner. Then, began the war of the heavens.’

‘The skies rained fire and brimstone as the immortals called forth the mortals sworn to them. We were outnumbered a hundred to one, and before long, we were pushed back to our seat of power. The place where we were our strongest. Our followers fought valiantly, making our foes pay for every step they gained. Our powers called forth great storms of magical energy that tore apart all that stood before them, and our host culled the heretics by the bushel.’ What enthusiasm the wolf once had died out with his heavy sigh that followed. And yet, he continued telling the story, like a surviving guard telling the tales of his fallen comrades. ‘The Avatar, along with the entity would become the elements of harmony, weaved a powerful curse. They bound us to our host even more than we already were, then cast him, and his fortress across the planes of reality. With our host gone, our mind was torn apart. Part of it went with him, and some were claimed by the Avatar. With what was left, we culled the weakened immortals and began stalking the halls of the living. Murdering all who our shattered mind deemed worthy.’

“Wait… You killed the immortals? Aren’t they… immortal?” Arcane asked aloud, bringing a hoof up to stroke his chin. “And you still haven't said anything about the telepathy!”

‘They are as close to immortal as one can get, with power emanating from those who worship them and immunity from the ravages of disease or time. But, they still could be killed. Just with great difficulty.’ Andril explained, his voice taking a strictly neutral tone. ‘As for the telepathy, it is from the curse. Once we have been around a mortal and helped them enough, we begin to become one. If only slightly. It starts with a mental link, then we could share our vision, and before long, our power in its purest form.’

“Ah…” The blue unicorn muttered, before perking up. “Looks like we’ve stumbled upon a town… here’s hoping they have a hotel or something…”

Author's Notes:

AN:
I live! Again!
Sorry about the delay, the laziness from Christmas has hard to shake off this year, and life just loves to make me a liar.
Here's hoping I can make more sooner. :P

Weapons' EN: That is a boldfaced lie, we had to mail Militia to Australia just to pull some necromantic shit and bring Eric back to life.
Getting him sent back by customs three times is what took so blasted long.

AN (Again): Hey!

Dapper's EN: The only reason I got sent back only three times and not more is because I grew impatient, charmed one of the agents, and changed some documents and recent memories.

6.5: A Step Back (Edit 1)

Thousands of realities, spread in front of one’s eyes, all merging, blurring, together in an array of hues and colour. Some closer than others, tethered together by a few similarities. Others drifting off on their own, a self-contained reality in this mess of truth and lies.

Yet between them all, between the kaleidoscope of time and space, new realities fill in whatever space available. Replacing the destroyed and the stagnated, lasting for moments and sometimes even centuries, but never forever. In the end, all will be replaced.

In this realm, time had little meaning. Seconds pass for some, and others, eons. But how can one tell? When their entire existence is set on a timescale that is different for every being?

It’s simple, one doesn’t.

But it is of little worry, for very few ever see another in this realm. For space is infinite, and beings are rare.

There are some who found others, an undead gentleman, a cat, and a bioweapon for example. Sometimes these beings join each other in their duties of tending to the realities, other times, they only speak in passing, leaving moments after, sometimes, never to see each other again.

These beings were, are, will be, known only as the Storytellers. They tend to the realities, crafting, influencing, and polishing them into their image. But, even they will fade in time. And with them, their realities crumble and falter, only rarely continuing after their absence.

For these are their stories and not all end in the way one expects. Some, if not most, just… stop. The seconds turn to nothing, and the citizens of the story know not the passage of time. They feel nothing as the void breaches the walls and they fall into nothingness. They pass with nothing. No pain, no joy, no screams, and no recognition.

Sometimes though, one of them survives the collapse. Be it fate, or careful crafting, these few join the storytellers and create their own realities. Which, in turn, would fade and collapse like all those before it.

These New-tellers often fade the fastest, but, some rise higher than the others and stalk the fields of realities for many years. And sometimes, for a rare few, they last even longer, affecting the other Storytellers for the better, or worse, guiding others around them to new heights, or new lows. And in turn lasting even longer than most, and even after they fade, they are remembered in the hearts and minds of the other Storytellers.

As a wise man once said, “They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”

Maybe it is true, maybe not. But in the end, these realities, these stories, are their legacy. Seen only by the other dwellers of the void, and the other Storytellers. But even then, memory is a fickle thing. And often, what was made, and what was remembered are similar, but not the same.

“So… is this the end?”

Sound, like time, was different here. It was less the manipulation of air, and more the ideas being spread from one to another. Sometimes it would even skip the mouth entirely, becoming something closer to telepathy.

“No.”

There isn’t air in the void, beings here don’t require such things. To those without the necessity of breathing, air becomes more of a luxury than a requirement.

“Then why are we here?”

With a light sigh, a heavily scarred grey wolf looked up from his edge of reality. Said wolf was covered in a thick fur, only parted around his eyes and scars, particularly around a long, thick scar running through his right eye.

“I do not know. This is less a decision, and more a feeling of what to happen next.” The wolf explained, shrugging.

This wolf Storyteller, only recently freed of the title of ‘New-teller’, tended only a handful of realities, with none yet fallen to the void. One reality of his own creation, a pair he maintained, and a final one he only looks at in passing.

“What of Arcane? Shall he make an appearance?”

The other, being little more than a face in a red mist, was older. Having tended to his own reality for years in his own timestream, he had influenced more than he cared to count.

“It is not his time, as I wish for him to remember it. It makes things more… interesting.” The wolf explained, gazing at three semi-transparent panes of glass. With one showing a blue and grey stallion dozing off on a train, another of the same stallion walking through a marshland, and the final one of the stallion fighting a clockwork golem.

“So you’re just pretending to be active?” The mist asked, a thin smile on his… face?

“Noooo… Maybeeee?” The wolf offered pitifully, “Look, I wanted to do something about random timestreams and then I started rambling… now we are here.”

“So this is just filler. How long are you going to drag this on for?”

“About this long.”

Author's Notes:

AN: So... I've got no bloody idea what I was doing here. No event or anything caused this, just shower thoughts. xD
Weapons' EN: The best thoughts.

Chapter 7: End of Arc 1

“So tell me, when the dust falls and all is said n’ done, who would you bow your knee to? The solar tyrant, ignorant of what happens beyond her borders? A lunar princess, who makes love to the devil himself? Or will you raise for yourself? Ending the rule of the alicorns and creating our own empire, built on the backs of us all, not in servitude to a god-like being, but for ourselves?” - Steel Quill (Eric Longtooth), a few days after the fall of Brismane.

It had been many hard days of travel, but, after what had seemed like forever, Arcane had found the small port town of ‘Long-Reach.’ Though, calling it a town would only just fit, in total, it had only five buildings, with three of them being residences, one being a farmhouse, and the other being the dockyard office.

The buildings themselves where banged up and worn down, with panels loose and windows cracked. Maybe it was the aura of sadness, or the light fog covering the area, but it seemed like the few residents of the town didn’t care much about fixing the buildings around them, or even in building and expanding the town.

There where a few ponies around, along with a gryphon or two and a minotaur who seemed to be manning the docks. Which, in comparison to the rest of the town, the docks where in surprisingly good shape, looking like it was commonly used, but far from fallen into disrepair.

“This can only end well…” Arcane grumbled as he made his way into the town. “Why are we even here, Star?”

“The monster is looking for us. Not very well so far, but well enough.” Star explained, amusement in his eyes as he glanced at the townsfolk creating a wide berth around him. “We are to go where not even his rumoured Krakens can follow. All we need to do is escape his notice for a few more days at most.”

“Wait… Krakens? Aren’t they sea creatures?” The unicorn stallion questioned, liking this plan less and less. “Wouldn’t it be a really bad idea to go onto the ocean then?”

“Possibly. We trust our power enough to deal with one, if not two of the beasts.” The blue star-wolf purred as they made their way to the dockyard office. “In the end, we would only need to delay the demon-spawn for as long as it takes to get to where we are going.”

“And that would be?” Arcane deadpanned.

“The place we must go.” Star chuckled, “I will not tell, not yet at least, there are to many eyes already.”

With those final words, the wolf slipped through the door to the dockyard office, leaving Arcane to move to a fast gait to catch up. Once through the door, he took note of the general cleanliness that the office, surprisingly, had. The insides where… cozy. With only two doors inside, one currently behind him, and the other behind a long office desk that stretched from one wall to another, only stopping with a small swing-door at the righthoof end.

Aside from the desk, the room was furnished with a neat little bookshelf that occupied the lefthoof wall. The bookshelf was covered in a few old, yet well loved, books. there were a few general non-fiction books there, but the majority were about fishing and boat repair.

The floor was made of worn spruce tiles glued together with some old flakey tar and nails that stuck out for a few millimeters. The walls was made of a simmerly worn spruce logs and a few plywood cross braces, but all in all, it was at home in this worn down town.

At the aforementioned desk, a beefy minotaur was currently arguing with a small pink furred mare. The mare, along with her pink fur, also had a vibrant lime green mane and a slightly above average length horn. She, currently, was staring down the minotaur with oddly intimidating pink eyes punctuated with a few forceful uses of her hoof into the chest of the minotaur.

“I don’t care what the buck happened to the last ship! I payed for this three weeks in advance, at double the bucking price!” The mare screeched, forcefully jabbing the much larger minotaur in the chest a few times for added effect. “You will get me to the gryphon isles, you miserable insect!”

“Ah’m nout gowin’ missay. Ah’ down’t chare’ ‘bout yer bits.” The minotaur shot back, his accent thicker than his coat. “Tha’ las’ on’ tha’ ‘ent out, is fookin’ dead ya’ twhit!”

‘The mare doesn’t smell right.’ Hunter mentally growled, ‘This must be a trap. It has to be.’

‘‘Doesn’t smell right.’ She doesn’t even have a scent! All I can smell is the perfume...’ Andril murmured telepathically, ‘It’s… familiar, but I can’t put my paw on it…’

‘Don’t be rash, she isn’t one of the monsters.Even they have a scent about them.’ Star sighed, ‘We will be vigilant, but We can use this ‘mare’ for our ends.’

‘If you say so…’ Arcane joined in the sighing before summoning up his courage and moving forward to join the heated conversation.

‘The nerve of this… this… defective nymph!’ She ranged internally, ‘I’ll get off of this Queen damned island, if it’s the last thing I do! Wait… who is that?’

The mare was cut out of her musings as she caught sight of a pair walking up to her. One of them was a young unicorn stallion, slightly thinner than normal from what she presumed to be poverty, and the other… the other was something else entirely.

It was larger than a timberwolf, and almost as tall as the minotaur with her, it’s pelt was a blue starry mass marred occasionally by black holes or galaxies. It’s eyes gazed into hers with a steeled glint, older than her mother and possibly her mother before her, from the corners of them, a thin blue fog raised up into the air behind it, following the sides of it’s head like a seagull gliding over the waves. Inside it’s maw was a full set of long canine teeth, and, behind them, was another set of smaller, razor sharp teeth, almost hidden from view. As it moved the shine of pitch black scales occasionally parted the fur, showing that it’s transparency was only an illusion.

Around it was an air of authority and supremacy, tightly entwined with a pulsing aura of sheer power and magical might. The feeling of being meer seconds from being splattered across the walls or being banished to a far off celestial body was near crippling, as the mental pressure increased with each step towards her.

“By the First Mother…” The mare whispered fearfully, wanting nothing more than to scuttle off to a dark corner and hide from the… Deity before her.

“We wish to procure a ship, and a crew for it.” The Deity stated calmly, gazing at the minotaur as it’s sheer power ebbed into it’s words.

“Ah-Ahs Ah shaid ta’ tha’ lass ‘ere,” The minotaur began, before swallowing a lump in his throat and continuing. “Ah’rm not goin’ ohut. Ah ‘on’t chare ‘hoo ya’ are.”

‘You retarded dung beetle! Can you not feel its power!?’ The mare internally raged, snapping her eyes onto the suicidal dockmaster.

“We were not asking, half-breed. We shall leave this island, regardless of thine wishes.” The Deity replied with an icy tone, flashes of red riddling it’s starry hide. “We shall give thou one last chance. We require a ship, and a crew. Now.”

“A-Ah’ll ghet tha’ crew ready shire’.” The minotaur scampered off into the back room, attempting to avoid the Deity’s fury.

‘Leaving me alone wi-...’

“Thou have good survival instincts, young one.” The Deity observed, still looking forward, as the pony that came with it awkwardly shuffled his hooves. “Though, We would not recommend following through with them.”

Her throat dried faster than water in the badlands and she visually paled a few shades as the wolf-like Deity slowly turned to face her. ‘Get a grip! Panicking will do us no good here… We’ve just got to appeal to it’s ego, and we’ll survive… hopefully.’

“Now, to business. Thou art afraid, that much is clear, but in the end, thou need not worry for thine fate. Not at the moment at least.” The wolf monologued slowly, backing her further into a corner with each word. “Thou’ve intrigued Us, it is plain that this body is not thou own, and yet thine art not one of Jekyll’s spawn.”

“What. Are. You?” The wolf-god questioned, putting it’s great power behind the words as its body flashed from it’s calmer blue haze to an angry blood red.

“I-I’m nothing of i-importance your grace, I-I’m barely an insect to your righteous might.” The mare stammered, her eyes flicking to each corner of the room as she attempted to formulate a workable plan. ‘Queen damn it! Of course it can see through my disguise!’

“We care not for thine bootlicking. Tell us who thou art, or We will pry the information from thine skull.” The deity before her deadpanned, the mist rising from its eyes lashed out violently and its claws lengthening and becoming less translucent by the second. “We once ruled this land as a GOD! It would be a miniscule effort to invade the unguarded shanty thou call thine mind!”

“What? You weren’t kidding about the god thing?” The stallion from the back interrupted, causing both the mare, and the wolf to snap their heads over to look at him. “What?”

“Has thine race really been so naive to forget where it came from? To forget the terrors that once clawed at your door?” The wolf asked, his tone laced with steel. “Did they forget what made the timerwolves? What made the sun stop? What forced them to use their magic to keep the world moving?!”

“Don’t. We shouldn’t even be surprised by now.” He snapped as the stallion opened his mouth. “Regardless, We have more pressing matters. Now, this is thine final chance. Who art thou?”

‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-Buck it. It’s him killing me now, or Jekyll later. May as well get this over with.’ With one last sigh of resignation, the mare was consumed by thick, sickly green fire. And yet, no cries of pain followed as the mare’s skin and fur was torn from her, no screams as her bones and muscles burnt and broke.

“Woah!” Arcane cried out in surprise, in complete contrast to the steely gaze of interest from the Archon. But, before the stallion could contemplate doing anything to save the strange mare, the fires died down. Leaving behind not a corpse, but an insectoid… pony?

The not-pony was slightly taller than Arcane, if only by a few centimeters, instead of fur, it was clad in a thick, black charapse of chitin. It’s horn was about the size of a real pony’s, and yet, inted of the normal, straight spiral, it was curved backwards slightly, thin and almost… rectangular, with hard lines and edges marred only by a multitude of holes that similarly covered it’s hair and legs. Speaking of, it’s mane and tail seemed to almost… cascade off of it’s body like a waterfall of pink hair. Around it’s barrel, a pink… weed strapped on a, also pink, cape… thing, to it’s back.

As it opened its eyes, it lowered them to just below Star’s muzzle. Downplaying what would’ve been amazingly striking pink eyes to a submissive wreak.

“What… are you?” Arcane murmured, half delighted at the prospect of researching a new species, half terrorfied at its existence.

“A changeling. A princess even.” Andril answered, taking the reins from Star and returning his form into a much more… neutral tone. “It has been many years since I have seen one of your kind, I was even beginning to forget your scent. Or, lack-thereof. I must say, the perfume did confuse me for a bit.”

“I’m Chitin, sole heir to the Throne of the Badlands, the last bastion of my kind.” The changeling replied, bowing deeply. “I wish no harm to you and yours. I wish only for an escape from this place.”

“Escape? What do you run fro-” Andril began, before he was interrupted by a blood curdling screech from behind them.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” The minotaur, now free of his previous accent charged forward, his arms dissolving into a pair of long, thick blades partially covered in a fleshy, pulsating mess of tendrils and muscles.

Along his spine, more barbs and blades began to mold into existence, turning the once normal minotaur into a monsterous horror from the depths of tartarus. A creature crafted and bred for the sole purpose of murdering anyone, and anything.

And yet…

As it gained speed, it didn’t topple Andril over as it impacted with him.

No, quite the opposite in fact, it came to a dead stop as the wolf did as wolf does.

What the wolf did, was in fact quite simple.

He ripped it’s fucking throat out.

‘Who dares interrupt us?! Star! I demand to teach this welp a lesson!’ Hunter blazed angrily in the corners of Andril’s mind. And, if he cared to listen, he would have heard a firm denial from Star. But, in the end, he didn’t.

Instead he was focused on this creature that had attacked him. He knew what it was, as one doesn’t simply ignore Jekyll’s Brood. But, that wasn’t what was so interesting, this one was different. It was almost… sloppy. Manic in it’s attacks, and not to mention, it tasted different. A little more like… an opal mixed into a coppery, fleshy, stew.

The stew wasn’t new, the last few tasted quite similar, but the opal? That was different. Very different. Maybe it was an experiment of Jekyll’s? Or maybe even one of the many things that can change with this race?

Regardless, this wasn’t going to be a fight.

This would be a slaughter.

Pulling his jaws back, taking a good mouthful of flesh with them, Andril took note of the flesh already reforming as he no longer maintained contact with the beast. Regardless, he quickly took advantage of the beast’s surprise to drop to the ground and swing his back legs around to swipe the monster off of its feet. Before it could react, Andril slammed his front left paw into its chest cavity.

With a dull squish, his front paw melted through the beast, and, with a substantial pause of energy, began to cook the monster alive. His magic forcing the cells of this creature to stop their rapid mutation and expansion, enabling them to be burnt like any other flesh.

‘Regardless, one doesn’t simply ‘stop’ Soulfire. As long as there is magic, it’ll keep burning.’ The Once-God idly noted, sparing a few seconds to regain a breath barely spent. ‘And with all this ambient magic? This town will be little more than a crater as it burns through the soil by the time I’m out of range for it to maintain any sense of order.’

Screams of agony filled the room as the “minotaur” attempted and failed to free itself of the Archon’s impressive weight. But, it didn’t matter. Regardless of who heard, all they would find is a pile of ash and maybe some, still burning, claws.

“Die, motherfucker!” Another battlecry sounded from behind him, followed shortly by the sting of the Virus Demon attempting to consume him.

‘Cute. Another sheep led to the slaughter.’

Leaving the first monster to burn, Andril struck out with his back paws, covering them in a powerful coat of his magic to burn away whatever they impacted.

“BOOM!”

More screams filled the air as the burning body of the monster was catapulted into the middle of the village. The few ponies that lived here bolted in a multitude of directions as another pair a monsters shedded any attempts of disguise and charged Andril.

One of them, smarter than most, formed some sort of biological hand crossbow and began firing upon him. In the end, it was just as effective as anything else as Andril’s hidden inner hide deflected the shots and blocked those that it didn’t.

The other creature formed a tower shield and attempted to provide cover for its ranged companion.

With a dark chuckle, Andril summoned forth a magic missile, powered with barely a fraction of his power, and sent it forth at the pair. Gazing with dark amusement as the missile penetrated the shield and detonated inside their more… fleshy bits.

With the remains of the creatures either dead, dying, or retreating, Andril turned his attention to the cowering changeling princess. “Now, as I was saying, what do you run from?”

“I-I-” The princess began before she had her turn of being interrupted.

“You fuckin’ dumbass…” The first monster rose from his position indented in the floor. As it rose the burning parts of it had, seemingly, decided to jump ship, leaving the monster only a little thinner than it was in the beginning. “You may have killed my brothers and sisters, but my blood will bring forth a disaster this world has never se-”

Before the monster could finished his moon-touched ramblings, Andril simply annihilated what was left of it with a great beam of Soulfire.

“I’m beginning to get tired of being interrupted.” Andril hissed, his eyes leaking barely a fraction of his power.

“It might have been a good idea to listen to him…” Arcane murmured, shuffling a bit further from the still burning ash. “It sounded at least a little important…”

“I doubt it. But, if it really is such a concern, I’m sure no one will miss this town.” Andril stated bluntly, gesturing to the Soulfire currently spreading and consuming anything left in the town. “It is quite a marvel of how much this spell can destroy.”

“I don’t know. That seems like a bit of overkill…” Arcane replied blankly, shrugging his shoulders.

With a grunt, Andril turned away from the stallion to once again inspect the changeling. “As you were saying?”

“A-ah, y-yes…” Chitin swallowed and gathered her courage, “I-I’m fleeing from my mother. She wants me to lead our species into a new golden age.”

“And you don’t agree?” The wolf inquired, gesturing the group to follow him.

“N-no, I despise them. Changelings are love-sucking monsters, and I want no part in anything involving them.” Chitin replied, her voice steeled with resolve.

“Hmmm…” Andril murmured, pondering his next words. “Do you not count yourself as one?”

“It’s… difficult. Chrysalis is a fool, she’ll lead us all to our deaths for her damned pride.” Chitin spat. “I refuse to go back. I won’t. I can’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” Andril shot back with a slight smirk. “If you despise even the thought of going back, then why do you still walk this world?”

“What the buck Andril?!” Arcane interjected, shocked. “What kind of question is that?!”

“An honest one. I remember a young Queen oh so similar to you, she didn’t last long and, for once, I had nothing to do with it.” Andril shrugged, bringing forth an illusion of a small changeling with bright red colour scheme. “It isn’t as rare as you think it to be, young pup.”

“Still! Seems like a bit of a jump to go from ‘not wanting to go home’, to ‘I want to kill myself’!” Arcane countered, “Seriously! What is up with you today?”

“What do you mean, pup?”

“First you suddenly decided to ignore any sense of not being seen and walk into a town where you’ll stand out like a sore hoof. Then you go and interrogate a bucking changeling, and if that wasn’t enough, you’re burning down the bucking village!” Arcane raged, throwing his forehooves above his head for dramatic effect. “What. Is. Going. On?!”

“It is none of your concern, pup.” Andril growled, his tone booking no argument. “We are going to leave this place. All of us. Now.”

With a quick teleport, the Once-God dumped the stallion and the changeling into a smallish ship not too far from him. Ignoring the quiet sounds of protest from the princess, he turned his attention back to the town.

It was tainted, he could feel it in the field of magic. A cancerous growth infecting and plaguing the very soil of this place, growing and festering.

It would be a simple act, to destroy it all. But, he wanted to send a message. Jekyll’s monsters attacked him and his. And now, they will get a taste of his fury. If only a small one.

Planting his paws into the cobblestones under him, the mist rising from his eyes lashed out, encircling and trapping anything left in the town. Lines upon lines of runes lost to time where crafted and engraved into the ground. It took a few minutes at most, and, when he finished, Andril shoved a sizable portion of his power into the runes.

‘VWAAA-BOOOOOOM!’

The air itself crackled with power as a great pillar of light rose into the sky. Incinerating anything in it’s way, up, or down. The dirt around it burnt and blacked, even cracking in some places as the spell burnt through the tectonic plates of this place.

With his spell ignited, Andril turned and slowly made his way to the ship. The spell would do its job. It would be a reminder to those who had forgotten.

A reminder of who he was.

Who they are.

“Be afraid ponies. Your God has returned.”

Rain.

Again.

Arcane was really starting to get tired of the rain, being it when he is trudging through it, or, like now, when he was sailing through it.

After Andril did… whatever he did, and created his current, quite literal, hornache, they had set sail. Powered by their resident god, they were sent hurling across the seas in pursuit of… something.

It was really strange, being told one was connected to an Old God. Even more so when the God was able to destroy the largest threat to ponykind with barely a thought.

Well… ‘threat’ was a bit loose. Judging by the papers left in the ship, which where thankfully warded against the rain, depending on who you asked, they can be evil monsters that destroy entire families, or benevolent demi-gods who help out where they can.

‘I mean, I could ask Star… he’d probably know.’ Arcane pondered, idley tapping the wooden floor of the ship. ‘Then again, he’s probably the most biased source…’

‘Is it even possible to be unbiased at this point?’ He continued, looking over at the newest addition to the ‘traveling party.’ ‘She’s shit-scared of them… I think. It would be nice if she talked more, it’s either single worded answers for me, or the ‘I’m-telling-you-the-truth-but-not-the-whole-truth’ for the Archon…’

‘Maybe they did something to her? I mean, Jekyll was pretty civil with me, but…’ He sighed, turning his attention back to the churning waves. ‘How do you tell the truth from the lies, when they can be literally anypony. Not even that, anything!’

“Hold on to something! We’re almost there!” Star cried from somewhere above the stallion. Prompting the changeling to grab onto the ship’s railing for dear life, something Arcane followed with a little less enthusiasm.

“Acta deos numquam mortalia fallunt!” Star cried out, pushing more and more power behind the ship.

Once the last words left his maw, the ocean erupted before them. A great stone gate, larger than even the Canterlot Castle, rose out of the water. It’s edges decorated with silver highlights and torches burning a sickly green fire. The inside of the gate seemed to be a large plate of bloody water, tinted with swirling patterns and toothy fish.

The sight caused Arcane to gaze up in awe, loosening his grip for a few moments before he remembered the Wolf’s words. Chitin on the other hoof, took it as a sign to tighten her deathgrip on the railings as her slitted pupils shrank into an almost closed state.

The wolf’s form fluctuated and twisted the closer they came to the gate. Arcane would even swear he saw all three of their personalities standing side-by-side for a few moments as the gate loomed over them.

Star had grinned a shit-eating grin as he gazed into the murky waters before them, Andril was indifferent, and Hunter… Hunter was cackling over the crashing waves like a madpony, his eyes pinpricks and opened wide, even as the water crashed into them and consumed the ship, Arcane didn’t even see him blink...

Traveling through the portal was a strange experience to say the least. They took enough time in the water to make him fear the possibility of drowning, and yet they were quick enough that he felt like a fool for being afraid. Even as he was certain something brushed against his leg, afterwards, he still found nothing to validate the feeling.

And yet, even as Arcane pondered this feeling, he felt his breath run from him as he raised his eyes to gaze upon the surroundings.

Around him could easily be described as a mass grave as hundreds of different shipwrecks loomed out of the near-black waters. Relics from ages long since past and not yet seen dotted the seafloor, fishing ships, Minotaurus Ironclads, Equestrian Airships even made their way into this grave.

But, most stunning of all would have to be the ruin taking center stage barely fifty meters away.

It’s hull was of rusted steel, it’s size easily dwarfing any of the other wreaks by a factor numbering in the hundreds, it’s sides had hundreds of cylinders pointed outwards. They seemed like more… refined cannons, much bigger as well. These ‘cannons’ could easily house a pony in it’s breech, and, judging by the amount of them, Arcane doubted there was anything Equestria could do to match it’s once grand firepower.

On it’s top deck, the stallion could faintly see a multitude of even larger cannons, some even reaching the size to allow them to fire off even the bulkiest of minotaurs. Near the base of its sides, there seemed to be some sorts of… connection ports, two on each side. If Arcane was to hazard a guess, they would’ve held some sort of outrigger, maybe even one each.

On top of it all, or in this case, in front of it all, instead of the standard figurehead of a mare or a battering ram, this ship seemed to have a multitude of blades sticking out a fair distance. Each of them much thicker than he was tall, even if he stood on his hind legs!

“Woah…” Arcane murmured dumbly, gazing at the ruin towering before him. “What could have made this thing?”

After a few moments of silence, broken only by the gentle rocking of the ship, the blue unicorn tore his eyes away from the ship to glance around for any signs of his companions.

Thankfully, after only a few seconds of scanning, he was able to find Chitin lying unconscious near the side of the ship. The Archon on the other hoof…

As high as the chances of the… ‘ling being wounded were, Arcane still found himself searching for the resident God instead of inspecting her. It was an idle curiosity to the stallion as he rose from his prone position on the deck, though, he noted, his search shouldn’t take too long.

The ship they had… ‘procured,’ wasn’t a large one. It was merely a fishing ship, with a single shared cabin, some deck space, a cargo hull, and a captain's wheel, there really wasn’t that many places Star could be.

“Who knows, he might’ve just woken up before me… he is a god after all…” Arcane muttered, opening a door to below deck with a quick flash of magic. “How the buck does that work anyway? I mean… everyone knows of Discord, and he’s a… god I guess, but I haven't heard of a starwolf before… all this…”

“Where did it all go?” The unicorn sighed sadly, scanning the room for any movement. “Everything was going just fine, and then it just… wasn’t any more. War’s on the horizon, shit’s on fire, the Princess doesn’t care, and then there’s… Jekyll.”

Unfortunately, there weren’t any answers for the young stallion, nor was there tail or hide of the supposed God. Even Arcane’s necklace hung lifeless and dull, void of the wolf’s magic. It was a strange feeling, before now, Arcane hadn’t really felt alone. There was always a… pressure, in the back of his mind. A warm feeling here, a gentle nudge there. He always felt like there was… something there for him. Be it physical, or not.

“Bleh, what is with it with ponies and being so sour whenever anything goes wrong?” A, slightly condescending, voice jolted him out of his brooding. With a startled spin on his hooves, Arcane was greeted with the sight of a seasick Chitin. Her pink highlights slightly dulled and a green haze over her muzzle didn’t help the insectoid look of her race... at all. That or the snark. But that just made her unpleasant in Arcane’s opinion. “Yes. I do exist. Thanks for checking on me.”

“Sorry… I was a bit distracted…” Arcane muttered in reply, shuffling his hooves a bit.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you where. No racism here.” She shot back with a roll of her eyes. Before adding under her breath, "Damn carapace scaring ponies away..."

“What’s wrong with you anyway?” Arcane asked, confused at the apparent hostility. “You were friendly… ish, before now. What changed?”

“Let me see… I almost drowned. I got punted through reality. And the fucking God of Death stopped threatening me with bodily harm if I looked at him wrong!” The changeling counted off, forming magical tallies with each point, before continuing on with her train of sarcasm. “You’d be surprised what threats of death does to make one seem friendly!”

With a heavy sigh, the bug-princess turned tail and made her way out the door. “Whatever, I’m going to go find something to consume. Don’t die whilst I’m gone, you’d make a good backup.”

“Hey!”

“Bravo-Golf-Actual, this is Command. Come in Bravo-Golf-Actual. Over.”

“Confirmed Command. This is Bravo-Golf-Actual. Over.”

“We’ve detected a disturbance from the gate. Move to engage. Lethal force is permitted, although live capture is prefered. Over.”

“Confirmed. Moving to engage. Out.”

“Wait! It could be dangerous out here!” Arcane gasped, slowing catching up to the changeling princess. His hoofsteps echoing off the rusted hallways of the once-great ship. The insides of the ship fared no better than the outside, with sections of the floor rusted through, hallways collapsed, and dust covering everything.

The bug had came in here for something, that much he knew. And as much as he wanted to leave her to die, his survival skills were… subpar to say the least.

“What are you looking for anyway?!” Arcane continued, only catching glances at a pink tail that drifted through the maze-like hallways of the ship. “We should be finding land! Not looking through this Celestia-Forsaken ruin!”

“Be silent, pony! There is something here, I can sense it!” Chitin shot back, her normal voice replaced with a predatory tone better suited to her kind. Even though she was only taller by a few centimeters, Arcane struggled to keep pace with her stride.

Turning another corner in his pursuit, Arcane was greeted with an incredibly large room. With the ceiling being multiple stories up, the room stretching hundreds of meters back, and it being around a hundred and fifty meters wide. Across the sides of it, five metal gates laid closed, each being taller than a pair of minotaurs and twice as wide. The metal being in surprisingly good condition, even though the strips of black and yellow paint near the bases of the gates still flaking and fading.

Inside the room, there was very little. With only a few broken or rusting steel crates huddled around the walls, all avoiding the middle of the room. In the middle though, in the middle was a large metal… thing.

It looked like a minotaur on steroids, given form in a boxy metal shell. It’s posture seemed to be folded into itself, hugging it’s legs up to it’s chest. Across its shell, pipes and wires snaked through and around each other in no particular order, the only guiding force being the larger concentrations around the ‘head’ area.

Though, calling it a head would be a bit of a stretch. It looked like a rectangular box cast in a dark grey metal, at the front of it, a pair of dull, lifeless, red dots took centre stage. On the sides of the ‘head,’ a pair of smaller metal poles, barely as thick as Arcane’s horn, flanked the ‘head’ like a winged helmet.

On it’s left arm, a contraption similar to the hollow metal poles that decorated the sides of the ship replaced where one would expect a hand to be. The poles, eight in total, each only slightly thicker than the ones on the ‘minotaur's’ head, where arrayed in a vaguely circular shape each hollow and in good repair.

All in all, the contraption looked different to the state of disrepair of everything else, it’s shell untouched by rust or decay.

“What is this thing…” Arcane murmured, forgetting his previous chace, and moving forward to better inspect the device.

“I… do not know. It seems… off.” Chitin replied quietly, her predatory tone gone. “I could sense emotions from it ever since we got here. Usually we can’t sense them unless we are within close proximity, but this… machine, is different.”

“What do you mean?” Arcane questioned, not taking his eyes of the contraption for a second. “Is it alive?”

“It must. I cannot feel the emotions of the dead.” The changeling confirmed, taking a much more cautious approach to the machine, and instead circling it from a distance. “But, as powerful as the emotions are… I cannot tell what they are, only that they are there…”

Chitin, ninety degrees from where she started, let out a sigh. “I swear, pony. If you wake it up, and it wants to kill us, I will end you.”

Arcane rolled his eyes, deciding not to reply. But, as he got closer, he noticed a familiar symbol engraved into the ‘minotaur's’ chest. The same symbol he had on his necklace, only in a two dimensional form. A carving of an owl, with half its face replaced by the likeness of a wolf’s.

“... The fuck?” He asked, confused.

BOOM-Tizzzzz!

He whiped away from the metallic minotaur at the sound, and, once he locked eyes with Chitin’s position, he wished he hadn’t.

The snarky princess had been struck down, her chitin crackling with energy as her muscles fired off at random. Above her, clad in a concealing cloak, was a pony.

And that was all he could make out before the great boom filled his ears once again, and he was greeted with darkness once more.

“Targets subdued. A unicorn and a changeling princess. Unidentified hive.” The pony murmured out loud. “Secondary objective completed, Minotaur class riot control bot has been secured. Awaiting extraction. Over.”

“Confirmed. Primary and secondary objectives complete. Locking onto your P.P.L.B. now.” Another voice buzzed from a small metal clip-like earring. “Please stand by for reinforcement.”

“Affirmative. Awaiting further instructions, over.” With the pony’s last words, he reached into his cloak before placing a gunmetal-grey, hoof-thick cylinder onto the ground in front of him.

With a click, four struts extended from each ‘corner’ of the cylinder before they lifted it a few centimeters off the ground. Following it, a much louder ‘thud’ sounded as another small strut was launched into the metal of the ship’s interior.

After waiting a moment, the hooded pony let out a deep sigh. “Stupid fucking machines…”

Then with a swift kick, the metallic cylinder came to life. Lines across its surface illuminating with a pale blue light and indenting into the contraption. A low buzzing filled the air as the beacon fulfilled its purpose and brought additional assistance to its master.

Zzzz-Fwabang!

With a great flash of light, and a distinctive bang, six forms where teleported into the ship. Four of them, being almost identical to the minotaur-like machine in the middle of the room, whilst the other two were ponies clad in form fitting black armour. The armour was black cat-suits over lain with dark grey plasteel plates, and, although the original pony couldn’t see their faces through their full face-concealing helmets, he knew them. It was always them.

With another sigh, the original pony tapped a metallic object embedded just above his right eye, watching as a hologram was pulled forth and settled in the edge of his vision. Letters and numbers danced across it as the programs loaded and checked on the pony’s vitals.

//Starting boot cycle…
/…
/…
/Done.

//Logging in…
/User: Bravo-Golf-Actual
/Password: ********
//Welcome Administrator!

//Loading translation software
/…
/Done.

With a dreadfully delightful ‘bing!’ The original pony looked towards the others. “So. They sent you two… again.”

The pair only replied with a dull drone of their techo-babble. Alas, the original would still have to listen to them as his translation software converted the binary into something he would understand.

User ‘Magos’: “It is good to see you too, Bravo. How’s the eye treating you?”
User ‘Techseer’: {Sarcasm} “I do hope the Corp didn’t rough you up too bad, after all, all you did was let a suspect go.” {/Sarcasm}

“Yeah, it’s treating me fine. Who wouldn’t love having their boss be able to see everything you do.” The original, Bravo, replied sarcastically. “How about your legs? I can see you’ve replaced them. Like everything else.”

User ‘Magos’: {Sarcasm} “Thank you for that, by the way.” {/Sarcasm} “Turns out you were able to break them in seventeen different places.”
User ‘Techseer’: “Ruined the nerves too, though I know it is only a matter of time before I get you back for that.”

With a dark chuckle, Bravo moved back to the changeling he had incapacitated. ‘Shame. If I didn’t have this damned eye-cam, I could’ve earned a nice payout from her. Who wouldn’t want a mare that can be anything you want?’

“So, I assume you’ll be taking them in for questioning?” Bravo asked the pair, he already knew the answer. Procedure was always the same with these things.

User ‘Magos’: “Yes. Though for once, we won’t get to keep them. The Corps had something big come up, and they need some more soldiers.”
User ‘Techseer’: “Shame. I could’ve used a new play-thing.”

“Something big, huh?” Bravo replied, genuinely surprised. “Any idea what it was? They usually don’t give a shit what happens at the border.”

User ‘Magos’: “Even if we did know, we wouldn’t tell you.”
User ‘Techseer’: “It must have been big though. The whole city is in a tizzy, something is unsettling the fleshies in there.”

With a grunt and a roll of his eyes, Bravo turned back to his catch. It wasn’t too bad, all things considering. The pony would probably go to some rich pig who needed some menial labor done, whilst the changeling would ‘disappear’ into some brothel somewhere. That, or, if Magos was telling the truth, they’d be turned into cyborg soldiers with no will of their own. ‘Damn. A real shame.’

“Alright! Get em’ loaded!” Bravo shouted to the minotaur machines, spurring them into life. Although they were commonly used for riot control, they made great hauling bots. Just with the added bonus of extra firepower if they get attacked. ‘Too many sick fucks out there. I’d rather not have my organs sold to the highest bidder, thank you.’

Arcane awoke to a blinding pain from his… everything. Around him was darkness, darkness with no end. But in front of him, in front of him was a creature that terrorfied him.

It was vaguely pony-shaped, but beyond that, it was something entirely different. It’s fur was gone, replaced by steel and wires, it’s eyes held nothing behind them, just the red stare of a robotic nightmare. It’s mouth was gone, replaced by four metallic mantibles that, when closed, made it look like it had nothing there in the first place. When open… when open Arcane could see all the way down it’s throat, thousands of teeth layering all the way down. The teeth of a predator, all angled backwards like a snake.

With a quick glance of himself, Arcane notice that he was tied down. Shackles of a cold white metal and more metallic items held him in place, they didn’t go around his limbs, no, now he knew where the pain came from. Hooks and spikes through holes in his legs as they oozed crimson blood, smallish plastic pipes where feeding… something into him through these holes. Whatever it was, it seemed to make the sweet abyss of unconsciousness as far as it has ever been.

Through the mangled and tooth ridden throat of the not-pony, it whispered things that dripped a poison. A poison of promises. Promises of pain, promises of death.

He couldn’t make out what the thing said, his mind was fuzzy and dull from the pain. He couldn’t formulate anything in his mind, let alone his mouth.

The not-pony seemed displeased by this. It brought forth it’s foreleg, and Arcane watched as it opened up. Plates of steel moved and revealed a whole assortment of metallic things. Some with spikes, some still laiden with blood from whenever they where last used.

The not-pony made one of the instruments of pain- a barbed pole, only a few hooves long and lined with wires and blood -extend further than the rest. It slithered around his prone body, away from where Arcane could see him.

The pain was mind numbing, and yet Arcane was able to slowly formulate… something. Anything in his mind. Although all he could think of was the blinding pain or why it was him here, it was something. It was progress.

Progress what was annihilated with a small action by the not-pony. He could feel it, the barbed pole, it had split the back of his head and slowly inched forward. Each millimeter was mind shattering, each centimeter, torture. It was like the fears of waking up during an operation, seeing doctors operate on you whilst awake, just… all too real.

Crack!

The sound of his skull breaking… that was one Arcane never expected to hear. Although he was sure it wasn’t that loud, he could still hear it with perfect clarity. From the back of his head, he could feel the pole twisting and moving, each vibration causing immense pain.

It was changing, taking up more space, he was sure of it. The tears that stung his eyes and the scream that boomed across the darkness, it was all too real. It couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. Nopony would do this to another, nopony would give up their flesh for chrome and steel.

And yet, and yet… he couldn’t wake up from this nightmare. This reality he wished wasn’t his own.

There was no princess of the night to save him as he was torn apart by the not-pony, there was no Wolf-God to save him from this existence. Nothing was coming for him, he could feel it in his heart, in the mind, and his soul.

With a quick jab, the metallic pole embedded itself into his brain. It was a strange feeling, he could feel what movement and coordination leave him as the pole damaged his cerebellum. He knew it couldn’t be possible, he couldn’t, shouldn’t, be able to feel the pole beyond his skull, and yet, he knew the feelings in his head. He could feel as tendrils extended from it and snaked through his brain, as they clamped onto parts of the frontal lobe, and they did… something.

Images from his life flashed before him, his childhood, Chitin, Star, his father, the pillar of light, the portal. Each at different times, and all flashing before him. The pain was excruciating, but it wasn’t what he was focused on.

With what little focus he had in this state, he felt something. Something he had felt few times in his life, but never to any real extent.

He felt…

Violated.

He knew with his heart, he knew what the not-pony was doing. He might not understand how, nor why, but he knew the not-pony was browsing Arcane’s life like a book. A living book that screamed and bled.

And, for the first time since it appeared, the slight tether at the back of his mind was gone. Cut off. He felt alone, more so than he had ever been. Alone, soaked in his own blood and being pulled apart by a monster. At one time, he would’ve fainted at the sight of all the blood, but now… now he couldn’t. He felt more awake than ever before.

Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the sludge being pumped into him, maybe it was just a cruel twist of fate. It was beyond him now. He was broken, pulled apart and violated in ways he never thought possible. Maybe it would be the end for him. Maybe.

And maybe, just maybe…

That was what he wanted.

Doubt had taken root in his mind, doubt in his friends, doubt in himself, doubt that he could come back from this.

How could anyone? He might not be a normal pony, sure he should have died in more than one occasion, but this? This was something new. Something terrible.

And even if he came back from this… even if he somehow survived his monster… would it be worth it? Would he be the same pony he once was? Would anyone recognise him now? Or ever?

The pole disconnected from his brain, leaving his skull behind with another wave of pain. Another wave that joined the ones before it.

Oh it still hurt, it hurt to the point that we knows he should have died. It hurt as much as it could possibly do so. The tears still stung, and the screams still echoed. But it wasn’t the same to when it had begun. It frightened him how quickly he was becoming used to it, it scared him to think that this might be his existence. But even then, the emotions, the electric shocks and waves of pain, they became duller and duller. They were the same, all the same.

The same.

The same.

The not-pony had came back to his view, it’s metallic hide stained with blood as Arcane could swear it smiled at his pain. At his screams. At his tears.

Another set of tools came out of it’s back, and as they descended on his chest, Arcane felt it. A feeling of hopelessness. A feeling of dread. All these where expected, but the feeling… the feeling of anticipation. Of hope. That was a surprise.

Hope that this would be the end, hope that it was over. Hope that death was coming.

It was not pony-like.

Did it make him a bad pony? A monster?

For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to care. For once, he cared not of what others would think. For once, he blocked out the voices and teachings of peace and harmony.

For once… he embraced the dark. The dark of suicide, of death, of pain.

The tools descended, the first being a saw that cut and broke through his fur, his skin, his bone. He could see his insides, his racing heart, is quivering lungs, everything.

More tools descended, removing his ribcage and exposing everything. Others took his organs from him, his stomach, his intestines, his liver. Grabbing them, and pulling them into the open plates of the not-pony. It was another strange feeling. He could feel his stomach churning, and yet, it was gone. He could feel the breath of the not-pony on his heart, he could feel the blood flowing from him, and being replaced by the sludge. He knew he should be dead. There was no way he could be alive. He should have bled out multiple times over now.

Should have...

Would have...

Regrets…

By Celestia did he have regrets. It was as sure as the pain that flooded him. As sure as his death should have been.

His brother, the one he left behind.

His mother, the one he abandoned.

His father, the one he hated.

Jekyll, the one he feared.

Star, Andril, Hunter…

How did he feel about them?

It was strange. It felt like he adored them, like they where the best thing that ever happened to him…

But did he?

Did he really?

As he laid there, being torn apart and harvested like cattle. As he lain there, screaming for death.

It was their fault.

Even if indirectly.

And yet…

And yet…

He couldn't hate them for that.

He just…

Couldn’t.

Not through his morals, not through his better side. No.

He just couldn’t hate them. He couldn’t no matter how much he should.

Heh.

Maybe he was the crazy one.

The not-pony pulled back, retracting it’s tools of pain. It spared only a quick glance to Arcane’s teary eyes, as if making sure he was still there. But the glance, the glace told more than Arcane ever expected, he wasn’t sure how, but he… felt the not-pony. Just not in the way he expected. It was like… a brush against its mind. It told him more in that brush than he learned from this land, a spark of crazed passion, a tinge of love marring it’s movements, be it for the craft or whatever else, and an underlying sense of… fear. Not remotely close to Arcane’s, but it was there. A fear of… something. And he wasn’t sure if that terrorfied him or filled him with hope, the knowledge that his monster was afraid of something more powerful than it.

But alas, the quick relief of pain was short lived, as more plates across the monster opened and more tools came forth.

These tools though…

These tools were different.

They were mainly claws, each holding other pieces of machinery, some had lights that blinked in an array of colours and hues, others were cold and quiet, seemingly disabled.

Each of them, though. Each of them had a place within him.

A clamp-like thing over his heart, a pair of vaguely lung-like things taking place behind his…

Other things went into new places, unviolated places. His legs, his flank, and the most concerning of all… a pair of scalpels, a needle and thread descended between his hind legs.

A quick snip, a light suction from a tube, and it was over. He always took it for granted, most do, but now… now he felt even more violated. Any fight he had left was gone. It’s gone. This monster took something that he could never get back. He’ll never have a family of his own blood, not now.

But it wasn’t over. No. It wouldn’t be enough for this monster, would it?

For once, Arcane felt something inside his heart. Something that wasn’t the machines and bullshit this monster gave him.

He felt anger before, he felt rage. But this… this was different. As a pony, life was precious, and as much as he could stand aside as another died. As much as he could do things in self-defence. But this, this was different. This was a fire that burned with cold flames, this was an effort he would put everything behind in a second.

And for once, Arcane didn’t just want to kill this thing. He would kill it, no matter the cost.

A wordless roar of defiance, echoing across the darkness. Louder than the screams, louder than the sobs of a broken stallion. This was the voice that brought forth revolution, the voice that causes nations to fall, to rise, to begin, to end.

This was the voice of revolution.

Brought forth rarely by the ponies, only heard a few times since the beginning of time itself.

Discord was overthrown from this.

Gods were brought low.

And the world...
The world changed for the better.

The world blurred as he lurched forward with strength he never knew he had, ripping his limbs from the hooks that restrained him; the pipes that kept him awake through this insanity.

The not-pony was surprised, but Arcane paid it no mind as he grabbed one of the multiple sharp tools and jammed it through the monster’s eye, blinding it.

It raised it’s tendrils to defend itself, but it mattered little, with a punch to the tool, he drove it further into the monster’s skull. He felt a bit of resistance, but it didn’t last long. It gave way, and something vital broke, causing the not-pony to go limp in his hooves.

That was it.

He did it.

The pain lessened, but didn’t fade entirely. But with it, the adrenaline and whatever magic he had ran off faded as well.

The feeling of being alive was truly something glorious, the feeling of the blood running from his body, the feeling of the sludge slowly draining from the gabing holes in his hooves… it was fucking wonderful.

And the darkness, the darkness that clawed at the edges of his vision, that was even better.

But the changeling, the changeling that cradled him in her arms, that cast spells to return the blood, to mend what was broken.

That was just puzzling.

Author's Notes:

AN:
Note for some of the topics discussed in this chapter: Suicide is never the answer, I don’t endorse it as such and I shall never do so. This is simply for the story.
If you are considering it, please seek help. It isn’t right for people to be in a situation where that is a valid way out, and there will always be someone out there willing to lend an ear.

Also, there will be darker moments from here on out. If you feel uncomfortable with this, turn back now.
The AN part of the AN:
Well. That got dark pretty quick. Umm… yeah. Thanks for sticking around to the end of Arc 1! If you keep reading, sweet! Thanks! If you don’t, what did I do wrong? ;A;
Anyway, onto the next chapter!

Weapons_X's EN: Ending not dark enough; 7/10

Chapter 8: Ghost in the Machine (Edit: 2, Fix: 1)

“One loves the light all the more once one has beheld the depths of the darkness.” - Baked Bean (Irrespective), This nose knows, 10th May 2018.

“Recovery team Alpha, this is Command, report. Over.”

“Command, this is Romeo-Alpha-Actual, reporting in. Techpriest ‘Magos’ has been killed, reports state it was during a conversion session with a Uniform-India. Suspected killer being the subject, as the restraints have been broken. Suspected prior muscle augmentation. Over.”

“Romeo-Alpha-Actual, Command, was the suspect found? And what of the CCTV? Over.”

“Command, Tango-Delta-Actual reporting, cameras where not installed in the operation room. Violation of standard protocol has been logged, and area has been designated for Sierra-Charlie one-five duties. Over.”

“Confirmed. Despatching Sweep-and-Clean squads now. Suspect has gained ‘Alpha’ priority, capture at all costs. Out.”

Pit…

Pat…

Water dripped down from a leaky pipe somewhere behind her. It didn’t matter though. She was still alive after all.

Pit…

Pat…

The feeling of being alive.… it was the greatest thing she ever felt. Like a blind pony seeing colour for the first time. The first true time. It was a wondrous feeling.

Pit…

Pat…

The thrill of slipping by stationed guards, the fear of being discovered as she swept through the back allies of this city. The weight of Arcane heavy on her back.

Pit…

Pat…

Oh, she had missed it.

Pit…

Pat…

Arcane… what he did was something incredible. She wasn’t sure what happened, but from the screams that had echoed across from the operation room and into her containment cell told her enough.

Pit…

Pat…

Not to mention the aftermath. Seeing him stand over the metal-pony, covered in blood with his organs bare to the world to see.

Pit…

Pat…

The fire in his eyes as he murdered the monster, the raw hate that emanated from him as he enacted his revenge, careless of the wounds he had.

Pit…

Pat…

She could see why he traveled with the Wolf-God now.

Pit…

Pat…

It was hard, even with her medical knowledge she still struggled to keep the stallion alive. But whatever the monster had done to him, it had kept him alive. His blood seemed limitless, and she had seen his wounds scar over before her eyes. It had been like something had fast forwarded him and him alone.

Pit…

Pat…

And yet… It worried her.

Pit…

Pat…

He was barely a pony anymore. And if it wasn’t for him killing the metal-pony, she would’ve been on the table next.

Pit…

Pat…

For once… she had needed help.

Pit…

Pat…

It was a strange feeling.

Pat…

The bitter drink burned as he drank, its poor excuse for alcohol tainted his taste buds and burned away what it could.

It wasn’t terrible all things considered, sitting in a run down bar in the poorest district of the city and expecting good shit would be stupid. You get what you pay for, and he didn’t pay much.

There where few beings in the bar, a pony in the corner, a minotaur at the bar, and himself. The bartender had passed out for the night, having ‘indulged’ herself a few too many times. Leaving only the regulars.

They wouldn’t steal anything. There wasn’t any point. The barkeep kept her credstick strapped to her thigh, and the drinks were piss-poor anyway.

No, they didn’t come for the drinks. Few did. They came for solitude, for peace, for a safe place to hide until the heat died down.

He was the odd one out. The others were petty thieves and poor sellswords, he was a cop. A damn good one too.

Living off a triple digit paycheck every week, it was a good life. Enough to live on at least.

And yet, here he was. Resting with the filth of the city, the SINless. The ones with no ID numbers, and barely any credits. Hell, some of the people who passed through here were ones he’d arrested personally.

A SINer among the SINless.

Couldn’t get more cheesy if he tried.

He was a stallion of habit. Get up, go to work, come to the bar, get pissed, go home. Same thing, every day. He didn’t like change, and if change happened, soon enough it became habit as well.

But this… this was change.

In his left hoof he nursed his drink, in his right he held something new.

Something, in all his years of working for the Corps, he had never seen. Hell, he hadn’t even seen something like it. It was a liquid made of a golden fire, it flickered and burned, though it never became any less. He could feel it, an angry heat behind it. It felt alive, it produced a feeling, a feeling of being away from where it must be. Away from it’s master.

Bravo could only expect it’s master to be the blue unicorn he had found snooping through the ruins of The Terra Dawn, after all, he nicked it off him. But the question remained, what was this thing?

He knew in his heart he should’ve handed it into the Techpriests. They would’ve had a ball with it. But, for the first time in years… he didn’t. He kept it, heedless of the threat of losing his job, his SIN, even his life, in favour of keeping this strange liquid.

Sure, he sometimes took risks. Sure, sometimes he fought with those above him. But this… this was different. There wasn’t an injustice he was fighting against, there wasn’t a prick he was annoying, this had no real motivation.

With a light sigh, he downed the rest of his drink and laid back. His faded cloak ruffling and barely hiding his dirty brown fur, parted only by the scars crisscrossing all over his body. He really wasn’t much, a few botched jobs here, a few cybernetic additions there, and he was barely more than the scum he found himself with. Hell, he didn’t even have the ‘standard’ augmentations of his post, all he had was a radio clip embedded in his ear, a neural interface, and an eye that recorded what he saw. No muscle grafts, no replaced limbs, not even sub-dermal armour.

Some said that made him replaceable, cheap, personally he thought it made him more pony than the others. Less of an unstoppable killing machine, and more of an agreeable character.

His glazed over emerald eyes gazed around the room in his, slightly, tipsy state. Maybe it was time for him to leave, he did have debriefing in the morning after all…

Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.

He rose up from the table, connected the thin casing of his credstick into the barkeep’s terminal to transfer a small tip, and left the other inhabitants to their drinks.

Outside, the buildings stretched into the sky for a few hundred meters before connected to the roof of this level. This was his home, the back allies of Areomorne, the greatest tower in history. Holding billions of lives scattered across each of it’s one hundred levels, bringing the tower to be a few kilometers in height, both up, and down. With each level about the size of ten hoofball fields, it was truly a sight.

Until they looked deeper.

As much as the tower is impressive, there were still places like this one, where the slums were built upon other slums. Housing at least half the population in a quarter of the space. Metallic streets had litter layered upon them, masking whatever original colour they once had, and with enough nooks and crannies between buildings to hide as many illegal things as anypony would ever need. This was the criminal underworld, in all it’s dirty glory.

When walking these streets, one was liable to have a knife between their ribs or a bullet between the eyes. But at the same time, this place was free, if only slightly. Unregulated to any considerable degree, and more or less free of the corp’s talons. And because of this, one could find the strangest things on these roads.

Maybe that was what he enjoyed the most about the slums, maybe it was just the feeling, maybe, maybe.

Maybe this was the day he found something.

‘Heh. If only.’

This… city tasted horrible.

With the adrenaline fading, and her energy with it, Chitin had found nice little hole to crawl into until the morning.

Well… if it wasn’t already.

From what she could tell, they had found themselves in a tower of sorts. And, as judged by the dirty chrome roof high up above her, the sun might never even have touched this place. But in the end, it didn’t bother her too much. Darkness made everything easier, sneaking, feeding… hiding…

Did she even have to hide anymore? Could Chrysalis even find her? Was she free to live her life?

Somehow, she doubted it.

Chrysalis always found her. Whenever she lowered her guard, whenever she stopped, whenever she thought she was safe…

Maybe this time Chrysalis would show up in person, instead of sending ‘elite’ guards after her.

She doubted that even more.

Regardless, Arcane had seemed to have stabilized and had drifted off into a, more or less, fulfilling dream. At least that’s what she had gathered from the trickle of love she gently nawed on, although, the tinge of regret and fear really didn’t help the flavor.

Speaking of, Chitin began a quick inspection of the stallion. After all, an infection wouldn’t be particularly helpful at the moment.

The leg wounds had almost completely healed, with hair already forming on the new, pinkish skin and parted only by the metal exosuit that seemed to be slowly growing out of him. The chest was much leaner, the fat having been replaced by toughened muscle, though it seemed something had grown in place of his ribs, forming a solid, almost armour like, chestplate to protect what organs he had left.

Though, the most interesting of all would have to be his head.

At one point, something had consumed his eyes, leaving behind what looked like a steel-like wireframe replica that slowly become more and more solid during her inspection. His teeth had a similar experience, but the wireframes were much more jagged, looking like something that should be on a predator, not a pony.

Through some quick calculations, the metal seemed to spread at about a couple square millimeters every second for the eyes, and double that for his teeth. Factoring in the progress already made, Chitin expected it to be complete within a couple minutes.

Other than that, Arcane seemed fine. With no open wounds, and the back of his head completely healed, with only some metal being left behind.

She shuddered lightly, this was too unnatural. Too alien… It shouldn’t exist. Not within her lifetime at least.

“The fuck?” A gruff voice echoed down the dark alley, causing her to whip around to bare her fangs at the intruder.

It was a brown earthpony, at least, the muscle structure said so, with a pitch black cloak that concealed anything above his hooves and below the neck with acceptable efficiency. Judging by the slight metal tab on his forehead, Chitin deduced that he had been under the knife at least once.

She didn’t like this tech of theirs. It created unknowns, and unknowns kill.

Her observations had only taken a split second, but she could already see the stallion shift his stance, it placed more weight on his hind legs and lifted his fore hooves slightly. Although this could just be him turning to run, it could also end up with a leap forward, or he might’ve had a weapon he’d been reaching for in his cloak. And she couldn’t take that chance, not with everything at stake.

She dropped to a low stance, she sprang to the side and grabbed onto the rusting metal walls of the ally. With a dash above head-height, she moved forward, watching as the stallion followed her with his eyes. His forehooves had rose to chest-height as he seemed to sit down, the unknowns pained Chitin greatly, but she continued scuttling the last few meters over to him.

With one last leap, she had tacked the stallion to the ground, and with a quick burst of magic, he couldn’t move his legs to attack her.

’The whole encounter was over in a few seconds,’ she mentally chastised herself, ‘I’m getting sloppy, that was barely twenty meters! I should’ve been able to cross that in half that time!’

“Well, you’re a quick one, aren’t you?” The gruff stallion asked rhetorically, not even bothering to struggle against her magic. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” Chitin hissed, she had listened to her training and instincts well, keeping her fangs within striking distance of the stallion’s jugular. Unless he pulled some tech bullshit, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m Bravo, Bravo Ember. I just saw you down the alley and got curious.” Bravo replied smoothly, even his emotions seemed to be calm. It was different. Unknown. “It’s not often we see Changelings on the positive floors. You lot seem to stick to the negs.”

“‘Negs’?” She asked cautiously, she was out of her depth here, but panicking wouldn’t help.

“The negative floors. The ones below the ground floor, or, as it is commonly called, floor zero.” The stallion explained calmly. Too calmly. His behavior was really starting to piss her off, did he not know all the flavors of death she could give? “If I recall correctly, floor six, neg five, neg seven, neg nine, neg twelve, and a few others were claimed for some of the hives.”

‘’Some of the hives’? There’s more than one?! Queen fucking damn it, Chrysalis!’ Chitin mentally raged, her face still cold and calculating as her instincts took over. “Why should I not kill you where you lay, pony?”

“You’d just be doing me a favour at this point. The paperwork for getting attacked, well, not even that, getting attacked by a changeling, is fuckin’ terrible.” He chuckled lightly, still calm. Mockingly calm. “Though, I’d hazard a guess that you’re lost. We’ve got a lot of different changelings, but none of them are pink. So unless you’ve making a new hive, which, mind you, is a whole ‘nother pile of paperwork, you aren’t from here. So you’ll need some help, and not everyone is as kind as me.”

“We’ll see.” She hissed back, with a quick thought, she charged her horn and removed the stallion’s cloak from him and chucked it off deeper into the alley. She even let out a slight smirk at the cloak’s metallic thump as it collided with the wall before she continued stipping the stallion of his gear.

“Come oooon, you have no idea how much all that had cost me.” Bravo complained as the vest he had under the cloak was taken. Along with four ‘L’ shaped objects, two on his chest, one on each shoulder, a longer ‘L’ that had been strapped to his left side, and what looked like an extendable shield that had been strapped to his right side. “Anything else you want to take from me?”

With a roll of her eyes, she pulled out seven metallic ball-things out of his tail, that, due to his looks of fear as she had tossed them, she made sure they didn’t hit anything too hard. Before Chitin was over, she also found three false teeth filled with an assortment of sharp things, another small ‘L’ object hidden in his mane, and four more ball-things hidden in false hooves.

“Now. Tell me what you can do for me.” Chitin demanded with a hiss, intimidation always helped these situations, after all, he might be faking his cool demeanor. “Or, I’ll take your shit, cut off your legs, and then leave you to die.”

“Well, your friend hasn’t woken up, has he?” Bravo commented with a smirk, “And you don’t know much about our tech, do you?”

It was the forest again…

He felt a tinge of familiarity for this place, this place that he has only seen in his dreams…

The dreams that felt true…

That felt real…

Maybe this wasn’t even a dream, maybe the rest was just a nightmare and this was reality…

After all…

Princess Luna only interrupts nightmares, and she’s never helped him here…

Maybe…

Maybe…

He had crossed this place before, he has felt the bark running through his fur…

And yet, this time, he was still a pony…

Pain followed every step as blood drained from multiple arrow wounds in his back, darkness danced before his vision as he slowly lost his battle…

His battle to keep moving…

Something was behind him, he could feel it in his heart. Something was after him, something dangerous…

It would catch him, that much he was sure of…

His allies had fallen before it…

First a lover, found solace...

Then a temptress, hidden by realms untouched…

Then a spirit, unwanted…

Followed by the others…

All the others…

The strongest had fallen before it, the weakest had fled from it’s hate…

All had died…

He was just another step in the process, the process of life and death…

He could hear the cries of the mob from behind him, taunted his fruitless endeavors to escape…

The rough gravel path through the forest cut and chipped his hooves as he desperately stumbled forward, the darkness slowly fading from behind him as the fires of the mob’s rage caught up with him…

A black cat ran across the road in front of him, as if his luck wasn’t bad enough…

He could hear them now, the very earth rumbling before the force of a hundred hooves pushing their masters forward, ever forward…

Another, identical cat ran across the road… it was taunting him now, it had to be…

He risked a glance back, pitchforks and torches greeted him as his fellow ponies hunted him…

He could even swear to see a tall mare off to the side, with hair full of stars and eyes full of confusion…

But he couldn’t have seen her…

She wouldn’t leave him to this fate…

Would she?

He thought with certainty, but his heart spoke otherwise…

As the stampede's blades of steel began to cut and pierced his hide, he cried out in sadness and pain…

Memories of his mother… his brother…

How would they see him now? Was he even the same stallion they knew?

A tinge of love in the heart of darkness, tears stung his eyes as his view was filled with an oily, translucent pelt of fur…

He was filled with the feeling of safety, he knew not the cause, but he was safe… for now…

All things considered, he wasn’t doing too bad.

Sure, he was assisting an illegal heir and an escaped Flesh-Droid, but at the same time, he was still alive. And in the grand scheme of things, that was a pretty good thing.

Hell, maybe he’d be able to do something good for once.

“So, lass, what’s your name?” Bravo questioned as they moved over to the unconscious stallion.

“Chitin.” She shot back, her words quick and clipped. “What did they do to Arcane?”

“This kid? From what I can tell, he’s halfway through becoming a Flesh-Droid.” Bravo shrugged, looking over this ‘Arcane.’ “Depending on how far ‘they’ got, he might not even be able to think any more.”

“Can you fix him?”

‘Huh, she seems oddly attached… for a ‘ling.’ Bravo mused as he crouched next to the stallion’s head. “Nope. Even if we had all the shit they took out of him, I’m fuckin’ hopeless with cybernetics.”

“Can you wake him up?” She continued with the quick questions, still laced with her slightly hostile tone.

“I can.” He answered with a nod, “I’ll need my coat back though.”

“No.” Chitin stated stubbornly, before adding as an afterthought, “what do you need from it?”

“Small brown case, has a little metal rectangle on the side and it’s made of wood.” Bravo explained, gesturing with his front hooves. “It should be in a pocket on the inside of the right breast.”

‘Heh, at least she’s listening.’ He mused as the princess carefully extracted it from his coat. “Alright, gimme a sec.”

With a quick tap on the top corner of the box, Bravo pulled out the metal rectangle and the hoof sized brown roll behind it. And, with practiced ease, he sparked a flame on one end of the roll and stuck the other side in his mouth.

As he pulled a long draw of the cigar, he gave Arcane a quick, yet forceful, bop on the nose with the wooden box. And, with a smirk on his lips and the burning in his lungs, he watched as the stallion was roused to the waking world.

At the sight of the changeling’s light glare his way, Bravo replied only with a shrug and another drag. “He’s awake, is he not? No my fault you didn’t try that in the first place.”

Regardless, as this, ‘Arcane’ began to stir, the earth pony moved back a few paces. Which, conveniently for him, put him within ten or so meters of the rest of his gear. ‘After all, diplomacy is nice, but one can hardly defend themselves with a cigar box.’

Chitin seemed to begin to say something, but with a few concerned murmurs from the unicorn lain on the ground, she abandoned her words in favour of checking over Arcane. Whispering a few words here and there that Bravo couldn’t make out.

It was almost sweet… almost.

‘Changelings don’t get attached, even more so for the royals. She must just be worrying about her backup love-pack.’ Bravo calculated as he slowly inched closer to his gear. ‘Come on. Remember your training dumbass. Keep your eyes on her, move back to your gear, and then engage in talk. Diplomacy through superior firepower and all that, they may not be monsters, but they aren’t ponies, not worth losing your job for.’

Still, he wondered if he was just trying to lie to himself.

As much as he wanted to know how they did what they did, how they were able to be subdued by him, and yet escape the Techpriests, he couldn’t lose his job for this.

Hell, the Rangers might already be coming for him, just depends on how lazy his boss is feeling with Bravo’s eye-cam.

With this in mind, he resigned himself to finishing his job… and keeping it.

Interrupt 1:1 Detected.

Launching bootstrapper…

Words danced before Arcane’s eyes as he was brought into the world of the living.

A.O.S Loaded, preparing startup diagnostics.

He felt… heavy. Quiet.

The thumping of his heart was absent, and he could feel his muscles struggling to pull in a breath he couldn’t give.

Heightened Cortisol levels detected, administering stabilization…

The words came and went as they pleased, and, in his slowly stirring state, he felt fine. Not worried at all with these changes.

CPU Nodes: 14 (25% Engaged)
Memory Nodes: 20
Power Level: 98% (^)
-----
Directives:
Primary = Maintain Operation
Secondary = Restore Weapon Systems
Tertiary = Restore Subsystems
-----
Damaged System Report:
Stabilization Core = 76% Efficiency
Arcane Power Conversion Ring = 46% Efficiency
Primary Weapon Systems = ERROR
Secondary Weapon Systems = ERROR
Mag-Lock Pads 1-3 = 63% Efficiency
Mag-Lock Pad 4 = ERROR

He could feel things spinning to life inside him, and yet panic was far from him mind. It was strange, to say the least. Not scary, but… interesting.

With the last remaining sleep slowly falling away, he was greeted with the sight of Chitin standing over him. She seemed worried, which, for a reason that still eludes him, gave Arcane a light feeling in his chest.

Interrupt 2:3 detected.

‘The fuck?’ He thought to himself, reading the text that appeared in the top left hoof side of his vision. In his heart, he knew he should panic, but he still felt as far from it as he could be.

Interrupt 2:3 detected.

It appeared again, accompanied with a muffled sound lingering in his ears. ‘What was that noise? What’s this text? The fuck is going on?’

Firing CPU processors…
Dedicating RAM…
CPU usage at 30%

Interrupt 2:3 detected.

“Arcane?”

This time, he could hear the voice clearly. The sound of Chitin’s double toned voice blessing his mind once more. He struggled to mutter a reply, as his mouth felt like a lead brick strapped to his face.

Rerouting power systems to Communication Cores…
Power deficit detected.
Estimated time until forced standby mode: 1 day, 6 hours, 15 minutes.

“Yeah?”

His voice echoed slightly across the metallic walls of… here. “Where am I?”

Engaging Auto-Mapping Core…

“We’re in an alley, how are you feeling? Any pain or discomfort?” Chitin asked, a slight tone of worry bled into her speech.

Following her words, the top right corner of Arcane’s vision filled with the addition of what looked like a bird’s-eye view of a urban area. With a small blue dot in the center, a green next to it, and a yellow one a bit further away.

“No… I’m feeling fine. I’m getting… things in my vision. Like… a map, and writing…” He replied, his voice still a neutral tone.

“Heh, looks like the kid got most of the good stuff then.” Another, gruffer, voice added.

User id Number: 314:225:674:255.65, Handle: Bravo Ember.
Occupation: Border Guard,
Previously charged with Assaulting a Commanding Officer, Unsanctioned Occupation of Class 6 Weaponry, and Attempted Breach of Perimeter.

“What do you mean?” Chitin hissed at the voice, Bravo.

“He’s got cybernetics, and judging by the addition of the map, some real good ones.” Bravo replied, “What’s on the map, kid? Green dots?”

“Yeah, a blue one, a green one, and a yellow one… I assume the yellow one is you?” Arcane asked, watching the yellow dot slowly inch away from the other two.

“Yeah. The blue one is you, and the green one is a ‘friendly.’ Yellow means ‘Neutral’ and red is ‘hostile.’” The other stallion explained, “That’ll map around you so you won’t get lost, and the dots will stop anyone sneaking up on you.”

“Now, what else is coming up? Any strange feelings?” Bravo continued, his neutral tone never leaving his voice.

“I just feel… strangely calm.”

“Shitty. Looks like they’ve gotten the emotion suppressants installed.” Bravo spat, pity and hate leaking into his tone momentarily, “I hope you didn’t want to feel fear or any of that shit.”

“Can you stand?” Chitin murmured to Arcane, keeping her eyes on him for the time being.

“I… think so.” Arcane replied softly, shifting his muscles and legs in preparation to stand.

Preparing Walk Cycle 1:1:0…
Booting Movement Core…
WARNING:
Stabilization Core = 76% Efficiency
Mag-Lock Pads 1-3 = 63% Efficiency
Mag-Lock Pad 4 = ERROR

Manual Movement Required.
Switching control nodes...

With little effort, Arcane managed to get his hooves below him. When greeted with a lack of pain, he gave a few experimental steps in each direction, painfully aware of the changeling’s eyes observing his movements for weaknesses. ‘Strange, usually my legs would have fallen asleep after a nap like that.’

Nerve misfiring detected, boosting pump capacity to 48% to compensate…
Queuing Nerve nodes for repair…
Err.
Const. Uplink not found.
Detecting issue…
Uplink Node not found.
Queuing Uplink Node for repair…
Err. Loop detected.
Adding ‘Repair systems’ to Secondary Directive…

“Now. This is heartwarming and all, but I’ve got a job to do.” Bravo stated, his dot moving backwards at a much faster rate before stopping. Raising his eyes, Arcane turned to see Bravo pointing a elongated ‘L’ of metal at him and Chitin.

User id: 314:225:674:255.65 had become hostile.
Signaling change of status to Mainframe Node…
Err.
Const. Uplink not found.
Engaging Self-Defence Core…
Err.
Weapons systems not found.
Increasing power draw to rotors for Hoof-to-Hoof combat…
WARNING:
High Power drain detected.
Remaining battery life estimated: 4 hours, 58 minutes.

Interrupt 3:12 Alpha detected.
Beginning Power Core override…
Enabling additional processing cores until threat is eliminated…
Remaining battery life estimated: 47 minutes.

Time seemed to slow around Arcane, colours became more intense and he could feel his legs fill with strength. Chitin lunged forward at a snail’s pace, taking whole seconds to move any considerable distance. Bravo’s ‘L’ fired off a bright ball of blue fire, and it slowly streaked across the distance between them.

He could… feel, where the ball was going to land. A gut feeling that told him it would impact him in the head. Another that told him Chitin wouldn’t make it to Bravo before he fired off another shot. And most importantly, a feeling told him to move. Fast.

Unlike the others, he could move normally, as if time had slowed for all but him. He pondered this had he followed the gut feelings and rocked onto his hind legs and moved to the side of the shot.

He watched as Bravo’s face turn from neutral to shocked, he watched as Bravo’s eyes followed him at a speed the rest of his body couldn’t match.

His gut told him to attack the stallion before him. His gut told him to kill Bravo in cold blood.

But he didn’t. He just dodged the three other shots Bravo fired towards him as Chitin slowly made contact with his shoulder. As she clamped her jaws around Bravo’s neck and as the light fled from his eyes, his entire body seemed to relax with a haunted shudder.

“How may I serve you, my queen?” Bravo droned absently.

Threat disabled. Deactivating secondary processing cores…

As quickly as it came, the flow of time returned to its normal state with greater haste. And with it, the gut feelings ebbed into obscurity.

“What is that in your hooves?” Chitin barked, her fangs dripping with green venom.

“An A.A.E rifle.” Bravo answered hollowly, his tone having lost anything that once made it unique. “It can fire a concussive ball of electricity every three seconds, or a lethal ball of plasma every five. It generates ammunition faster than it consumes it, unless it is in fully automatic mode.”

‘What? Did she mind control him? With venom?’ Arcane mused, shuffling his hooves awkwardly. Fear still alluding his mind. ‘I’ll have to ask her how that works later…’

“What of the smaller ones? And the orbs?” She continued, her tone hostile and her posture even more so.

“They are S.S.E.C pistols. They can fire once a second, or they can melt their batteries for a single power shot.” Bravo continued, his neck slowly creating a puddle of blood under him. “The orbs are grenades. They create an explosion that can penetrate most civilian armours, and some military drones.”

Chitin let out a low hum, looking over to Bravo’s gear. “You are to protect your queen, and are to keep yourself alive unless my safety, or the safety of Arcane, demands your death.”

“Of course, my queen.”

“Arcane? Put his gear on. It’ll only slow me down, and Bravo isn’t worth it.” Chitin commanded, her tone having lost it’s hostility but not it’s authority.

“Uhh… how?” Arcane asked, looking over the mess of straps and hooks that clung to the inside of Bravo’s coat.

With a roll of her eyes, Chitin gestured Bravo over to him. “Get him kitted up.”

“Of course, my queen.”

Blood trickled from the holes in his neck, the wounds slowly clotting as his body was stolen from him.

The world had been tinged a hateful pink as his body moved without his commands. A prisoner in his own mind.

Free will was something everyone loves beyond all else. Even if they don’t realise it. Even if day to day, they take it for granted.

But to have it stolen?

It wasn’t something he’d wish on anyone.

He knew he should be angry, that he should be feeling something. But in reality, not even his emotions were his anymore.

It was only a matter of time before the venom took his mind. After all, it controls what is physical, and the brain is rooted within the physical reality.

His captor Queen commanded, and his body obeyed.

His mind was left, for now, it’s torment not yet that of servitude.

This was the end for him. As the poison captured all he had once owned in a matter of moments.

So with his last free thought, he cursed his Queen as he was drowned in the pink haze…

A slight flicker of pleasure danced across her spine had she watched her new drone fulfill her orders. The hormones and triggers that guided previous queens to build their hives plagued her mind, regardless of how she attempted to block it out.

Ancient habits and urges resurfaced as she commanded her drone. Urges to create a hive of her own, to become a queen.

With a great mental effort, she pushed them down and focused on Arcane as he was fitted into the armoured duster. He had changed considerably from when they first met, his hide marred from scars and metal. His legs were encased in a wire-frame of metal and wires that hugged his pelt and occasionally penetrated the flesh near the joints. The main changes would have to be his body mass, that had changed from a standard stallion to that of a personal trainer, and his eyes. His eyes were obviously robotic, with the pupil shrunk and two extra ones added to it. One below it, and one to the top-right of the main one. The iris was completely removed in favour of colouring the pupils a blood red, and a pair of elongated, also red, crescent moons in the corners of the eyes.

All together, Arcane had turned into a well muscled stallion of flesh and iron.

“It is done my queen.” Her drone cut her out of her musings, his tone still empty of emotion and filled only with undying loyalty.

“Good. Now, where are the other Changeling hives? We should parley with them first, and then we can deduce if there is anything here worth saving. Otherwise, we’ll just have to cut our losses.” Chitin explained, mostly directing her thoughts to Arcane. The thought of keeping her drone around for longer than needed left a sour taste in her mouth, but it was necessary for now.

“What of Star? We should probably find him, he might need our help.” Arcane questioned, cutting off Bravo before he could begin his explanation.

“If ‘Star’ is in trouble, we shouldn’t go find him. If there is something to give an Elder God trouble, we don’t want to be anywhere near them.” Chitin replied with a roll of her eyes. “Use those survival instincts, if you still have them.”

Arcane’s mouth turned to a thin line and his eyes glowed brighter, but he didn’t say anything in his defence. Leaving Chitin to turn to her drone to hear his explanation.

“Floor negative five is the closest, my queen. But there is also one on floor six, negative seven, negative nine, and negative twelve.” Bravo explained dully, still managing enough personality to shoot a dirty look at Arcane for arguing with his ‘queen.’ “I can upload the directions to Master Arcane’s database, if that is what you wish, my queen.”

“Do it. We’ll go to the one on floor six. If this place is any reference, going down would be incredibly annoying.” Chitin commanded, watching as her drone extended a cable from his hoof and connected it to a port on the back of Arcane’s neck. “Anything else we should be aware of?”

“The Techpriests, that ones that captured you in the first place, become more tightly clustered the further down. Upwards has less of them, and more automated defence systems.” Bravo explained, his sentences becoming more and more intelligible as the venom rooted deeper into his mind.

“Alright. Let’s go then.” Arcane shrugged, rubbing his left eye roughly.

It was easy to slip through the slums undetected, and with the aid of its many alleys, they were able to reach an abandoned maintenance hatch with relative ease.

The hatch itself was little more than a crawl space between the inner and outer wall, but through it’s rusted labyrinth, Arcane was able to direct the group to the next floor. The trip itself took a little over three hours, as the group was forced to take multiple alternate routes due to the poor maintenance of some of the areas. But, with the time passed and the more-or-less fresh air replaced with recycled and pressurised that was required with such heights, they had made it.

The labyrinth had dropped them off in a shining hallway of polished metal and chrome. The walls had inscriptions that ran across them that Arcane had identified as magical runes, and the floors had polished grey and white mosaic of the highest quality.

“Are you sure this is the place, drone?” Chitin hissed, the ease of this ‘mission’ of theirs putting her on edge. “It’s too clean for any hive I know.”

“I am s-sure, my queen. High Queen Zethala is just… cleaner than the others.” Bravo replied, flinching away from Chitin’s hostile tone.

“Hmm.”

As they continued down the hallway, they began to be greeted with paths branching off of the main one, along with ‘doors’ that lacked any handle or hinge. But the further they went, the colder the air became. At first, it was only a few degrees, but as time wore on, it became quite noticeable.

“My… body says it’s now nine degrees celcius, or forty eight fahrenheit.” Arcane noted with an uneven tone. His voice still revealing how uncertain he was about his body, regardless of what it tried to give off. The thought gave her a light smile.

“How far are we, drone?” Chitin hissed, her voice lacking the malice of earlier but still slightly hostile.

“J-just a-a f-few more m-minutes, my q-queen.” Bravo chittered, taking the cold much worse than the others.

“That is far enough.” A gruff voice droned from ahead. As Chitin turned away from Bravo, she was greeted with the sight of another changeling.

The new changeling is much bigger than she was, being able to stare Celestia herself dead in the eye, it’s body was bulky and hard. It’s exoskeleton had been thickened and reinforced, making it look like it was wearing a suit of plate mail. It’s eyes had shrunk into it’s skull, making them barely larger than an apple, in contrast to Chitin’s which where more than double the size.

Along with this, it had a blood red mohawk and a cut-short tail. It’s wings were much larger than a normal changeling, even more so in comparison to the rest of its body. Looking more akin to a gryphon’s wings than a changeling’s, they were a little under double the length of its body.

It’s horn was about half a meter in length, and it was thicker than most’s, along with a deadly looking curve, it looked to have been sharpened.

‘Either going for intimidation, or it’s less sensitive, allowing for its use as a weapon.’ Chitin thought quickly, judging her options. ‘If the gun at his side means anything, he’s probably a guard. So he should know where this ‘High Queen’ is.’

“We wish to speak to your queen.” Chitin barked out, straightening her pose and channeling her inner queen. But, chances are, her size would just make her look like a child playing pretend.

With a grunt, the guard looked over to her pony companions. “Your ponies should stay here. They will not last in the cold.”

“I’ll be fine. My augments tell me I can handle another hundred degrees.” Arcane explained, looking to Chitin with steeled eyes.

“They will come with me as an escort.” She replied plainly, but, after a quick glance at Arcane's disapproving look, she added. "Bravo will return to the entrance though."

“If that is what you wish, princess.” The drone said, burying Bravo’s response with his deep tones. “Follow me.”

Temperature drop detected.
Current Temperature: -3℃, 25℉
Rerouting power to heating systems...

Interrupts and notifications flashed around Arcane’s vision, giving him information on the world around him. But, for all the information, his eye were drawn the mass of yellow and red that was his map. There were only a few red dots in the mass, but there was enough yellow to block out any useful information.

The drone had led the pair into a large throne room. The majority of the back wall being taken up by a lavish throne of blackened steel and shining chrome. To its sides, there were two lavish thrones to the left, and one to the right. At the moment, there were no other changelings in the room, as even the guard left them. But he presumed it wouldn’t last long.

High Threat detected.
Caution is advised.

‘Speak of the devil…’

With a powerful crack of space-time warping to the caster’s needs, a large figure appeared before the throne. At a quick glance, the figure was a female changeling queen, about a head taller than Princess Celestia’s horn. Her mane and tail are a blood red, with the former done up in a tight bun behind her head. Her maw was home to a pair of long fangs and another pair of, slightly smaller, fangs resting behind them. Unlike the other changelings, her horn was more or less straight, only curving near the base to give it some distance from her temple. But, in spite of the main horn’s impressive length, a pair of slightly shorter horns were found in addition. They began just before the hairline to the left and right of her slitted eyes, giving her a crown-like look. Finally, her ears looked to be a few hoof lengths longer than they should’ve been, giving her the look of what his pop-ups classified as an ‘elf.’

Passive mana generators detect over 35,000 Thu'ums.
Deactivating generators…

A small flash of pain sparked across his horn, leaving the air around it heated and steaming. With Arcane’s only response being a slight grunt, he focused his attention to the new queen. As much as he… didn’t know her, Chitin needed his help. Regardless of what she said.

He just hoped he could give it…

This queen was trouble. Chitin could smell it.

The pheromones being given off by this… ‘Zethala,’ were immensely powerful. Like an aura of power, fear, and… fertility?

‘Zethala must be due to lay, but has yet to be fertilized, so her body must be attempting to rectify this.’ Chitin mentally noted, drawing some of her energy into her muscles in case she needed to dodge any attacks. ‘Alright. Let’s get her talking.’

“You’re High Queen Zethala, I presume?” Chitin asked baitingly, slowly moving out of the middle of the room. As to keep herself as a ‘footnote’ and not a main focus.

“Yesss, I am.” The High Queen replied, her voice dripping with serpentine accents, stretching her ‘s’s and giving her a regal tone. “And who are you, young queen?”

‘Shit. No comment on Arcane? Really? I guess she prefers to ignore the ‘cattle’’ Chitin mentally raged, “I am Princess Chitin, heir to the throne of the Badlands.”

“Aaahh, you’re one of Glossssimar’s brood? Ssshe alwaysss had a habit of naming her own after bugsss.” Zethala chuckled, her tone condescending as she settled down upon her throne. Flaunting her height advantage even more than that given to her naturally. “How isss the old bug? Ssshe wasss alwaysss one I enjoyed.”

‘She knows Great-Grandmother? Interesting…’ Chitin noted, sparing a glance to Arcane who seemed to only look towards the High Queen with a light scowl of disdain. “She died long before I was born. Slain in the founding of our hive, like her daughter after, and like her grand-daughter will before me.”

“Ambitiousss, wanting to take on a hive for your own. When all you have isss your petsss.” The queen teased, baiting Chitin into revealing more.

‘I’ve already said too much, let’s move this back to her…’ Chitin swallowed her retort and attempted to steer the conversation away from herself. “What of you? I doubt you made this hive from the ground up.”

Zethala took a sharp intake of breath, followed by a smirk the danced across Chitin’s muzzle. ‘That got a reaction.’

“Thatsss where you are wrong, young one. I made thisss hive from the assshesss of your own. I fought your great-great-grandmother and thossse before her. I ssstripped them of their rightsss here, and cassst them assside.” High Queen Zethala hissed, flaunting her age as she rose from her throne for added effect. “I killed, no, purged your hive from thisss land. Thousssandsss felled by my own bladesss. Forget not your rootsss, young princessss, lessst they turn to rot.”

She spared another glance at Arcane to avoid the piercing glare of the older queen, he was steaming from where his implants broke skin. His eyes emitted a furious red and his nostrils were flared. If it weren’t for his rigid stance that belated only strict professionalism, Chitin expected a fight to have broken out by now.

Before she could say anything in retort, she was cut off by a venomous response from Arcane, his eyes still glaring at the High Queen. “At what cost of your own? Everyone comes from someone else, and I don’t see your mothers. Well, you know what they say about glass houses.”

For all the High Queen’s age, she wasn’t able to fight the slight flinch that followed Arcane’s remark. Leaving only a smile of Chitin muzzle as she turned back to the queen. ‘Looks like he’s useful for more than love.’
...
‘Wait, that came out wrong. FUCK OFF, MENTAL IMAGE!’ Fighting a slight blush, Chitin drew some of her power to cast a minor transformation to keep it from her face.

“You ssshould know your place, drone.” Zethala shot back, her attention removed from Chitin for the time being.

“You never answered the question, your highness.” Arcane deflected with an exaggerated bow and a roll of his eyes.

“My mother wasss a traitor and got what wasss coming for her! Ssso ssshall you if you don’t learn your place, drone!” Zethala raged, slamming her forehoof into her throne with enough force to demolish the armrest.

“So from what I’ve been told, you will give me suicide?” Arcane snarked back, a knowing grin on his face. “Now that doesn’t sound right, does it?”

“You ssshouldn’t know that…” Zethala hissed under her breath as she caught her temper. “Unlessss… Who told you thessse thingsss, drone?”

“Star, Andril, and Hunter. Wolf God of this world and all those before it.” Arcane shot back, exaggerating for dramatic effect.

“Ssstar? Isss that what he callsss himssself now?” Zethala questioned with a chuckle as she settled back into a throne and repaired the armrest with a simple spell. “When I knew him, he wasss known asss ‘Immortalesss Ssstella,’ or ‘the Immortal Ssstar’ if you ssspeak thisss tongue. Oh, it hasss been quite a while sssince I heard hisss name.”

“You know him?” Arcane asked, his anger momentarily lost.

“Of courssse, he ruled thisss land for a time, and he created it asss well. Although mossst have forgotten, thossse asss old asss me remember hisss might.” Zethala explained with a smirk. “If you wisssh, I can regale you with a ssstory of old.”

With a glance to Arcane, who shrugged in indifference, Chitin answered plainly. “Sure, tell us your knowledge, old one.”

“It wasss many thousssandsss of yearsss ago…”

It was the day of reckoning. The main portal had rose from the sea surrounding their island and had been forced open, allowing the creatures that stole their home to pour through on battleships and destroyers of the highest quality.

The Great Cannon encampments of the shores sung their song of death as they blanketed the setting sun’s sky with fire and steel. Upon the beaches sword and gun met in battle as two armies broke before each other.

Ponies, Gryphons, Hippogryphs, Changelings, and Minotaurs, all fighting for their home and their survival.

Hives of many colours all blended into the faceless masses of dead and dying as Zethala looked over the battlefield.

Clad in runed and battered power-mail, she brushed the blood of the recently slain off of the one sided transparent chrome visor. This was a desperation tactic, attacking her capital whilst the main force was attacking theirs. Regardless of the outcome here, the Empire of Sigmar would be lost to time.

Their Emperor had been slain before her own blade, and his best generals had fallen before the Wolf God’s might. This was only a petty attempt of bringing Areomorne with them to their death.

With a cry of defiance, one of the many thousands of remaining humans charged her, chainsword in hand. With a roll of her eyes, Princess Zethala spun her power sword from her back and into the heart of the foolish warrior. It was amusing to cull the mortals, but she still questioned why her mother wanted her to fight on the front. They had the Wolf God on their side, they couldn’t loose to these upstarts.

Speaking of, the detonation of the Human’s capital warship heralded the Wolf God’s entrance to the frey, his massive form towering over the other soldiers on the beach by a few meters. Every couple of seconds, the God would launch a great ball of explosive Soulfire into the remaining ships, killing more than the Great Cannons had in the last hour.

She pushed forward, cutting through the waves of disposable humans with ease. Her power sword parting their bodies as easily as a bullet through paper, aided by her auto-gun spraying it’s fifty calibre, titanium explosive rounds into anyone foolish enough to assault her. Showering her armour in blood, gore, and brains.

The Wolf God’s steaming black pelt lashed out at any humans near him, as his three heads channeled his immense magical presence into great beams of death. At the highest point, he stood at over five meters tall, with a length numbering at nearly double that. The left-most head’s eyes of bloody red fire launched hailstorms of thousands of small magical needles, whilst the right-most chimed in with his strategic blasts of green soulfire. The middle head on the other hoof, with his eyes of burning blue, ignored the mortals around him as it burnt the fliers from the skies. Their concentration only phased when they launched an additional ball of soulfire at the remaining warships.

“Mine lordsss!” Zethala called to him as she parted the last humans between them. “Their troops doth not break! Thine forcesss slaughter them, yet theye ssstill fight!”

“We shalt keep fighting. Theye will be brought to heel! For their end is ‘nigh!” The Wolf God replied, his three toned voice skipping her ears and going directly into her brain.

“Thy will isss eternal!” Zethala replied, turning back to the fray with renewed splendor. Her role shall be that of protection for her God, and she loved it. “Theye rally!”

From the mess of living and dead, a large minotaur-like automatron charged her, its forearms replaced with blades almost as long as it was tall. Turning her attention to it, she sprayed her auto-gun at it, the miniature explosions tearing armour plates off of the robot but failing to slow it.

Flicking the gun back to her holster, she gripped her power sword in her three-horned magic as she counter charged. Ducking under it’s left blade as it swang through the air at neck-height, she thrusted her blade into the shoulder joint of the right arm. Its powerfield cutting and disrupting the molecular bonds of the joint.

With a elegant flick to the left, the powered blade parted the inner core of the automaton and cleanly divided the robot into three pieces. Not even sparing a moment to look back, Princess Zethala grasped the severed limb-blade in her sickly green magic before launching it forward into the swarming mass of humans that assaulted the beach.

“RAAAARGHH!”

A beastial roar cut through the drone of gunfire and death, shaking the battlefield with its volume. As she turned, Zethala noticed the dull chanting of ‘murder, murder, murder’ that followed the roar.

From the hordes of flesh, a titanic being charged the Wolf God. Its form boxy and it’s legs small, its speed rivaled that of the cavalry divisions as it wolf pelt clad armour broke the ranks of those before it with it’s eight meter tall stature. It’s blue armour covered all but its head, showing only armour plates, wolf skin, and the skulls of the fallen. One of its eyes had been replaced with a beedy green cybernetic, as its mane of pure white whipped against it’s headboard.

It caught the Wolf God in the side, its powered claws embedding deep within his hide, its maddened charge was greeted by the Wolf God’s howls of rage as he turned his attacks from the ships and infantry to this new treat.

His living hide attacked the intruding claws with all its might, leaving deep scratches and farrows in the armour plating but failing to dislodge them.

Zethala gave a wordless scream of anger to the flesh and metal hybrid as she charged to defend her lord. Her auto-gun pelted the armoured wolf hides of the monster, tearing through the beast and damaging anything it could reach.

Moving forward with a flourish of her power sword, Zethala cut deep into the sides of the cyborg. Oil and blood gushed out of the beast, as it pulled its claws out of the Wolf God. Another cry of bestail rage filled the air as it charged the young Princess, it wounds not slowing its pace at all.

With a quick roll to the side, she dodged the clumsy swings of its power claws, popping up only to pepper its hide once more. The remaining humans rallied at the sight and poured through the Areomornian ranks to assist the beast in killing the Wolf God.

Said God had rose on unsteady paws and had been forced to blast the waves of humans as his guards finally caught up to him and set up a perimeter. Zethala felt the need to chastise the God on his faith in his immortality, but with the fight with the beast still in full swing, she banished the heretical thoughts from her mind.

A few friendly soldiers joined her in assaulting the cyborg, but their attempts were quickly silenced by a few well timed backhands from the power claws. As untrained as the beast was, it was exceptionally fast for its size, forcing Zethala onto the defensive more than she would have liked.

It took nearly an hour of rolling and firing for the monster to begin to tire, the battle around them still raging on in spite of the Princess’ efforts. Shells still flew from allies and foes alike as the humans drew their last stand. They knew their home was defeated by now, the mortal half of the Wolf God would have it no other way as he annihilated their cities on the frontline.

Even as the Wolf God was pulled from the battle to tend to his wounds, Zethala fought like he was still watching. For if she was to die to this beast, the Wolf God would judge her, and she wouldn’t be found wanting.

With a cry of anguish, she pulled out of her roll too slowly, feeling the power claws cut into her horn and dismantle her magical wards with ease. Its power field went through her steel plate like a hot knife through butter, the magical feedback causing a miniature explosion that blew the pair apart. Her broken body skidded across the battlefield for a few meters, the pounding in her head protesting every impact.

She felt the darkness around her, and the piercing gaze of the Wolf God turning to her side. Judging her failure. Her weakness.

Cracking open her eyes, she saw the beast of metal and flesh looming over her, its arms raised for a finishing blow.

No.

She refused this. She refused to die a failure.

Her roar of defiance echoed across the battlefield as she pulled a knife from her armoured boot, gripping its dirtied handle in her fangs, she lunged forward, plunging the blade into the creature’s skull. Killing it once and for all.

Only then, did she let the darkness consume her.

Only then, with her duty fulfilled, was she granted rest.

“Return to us, noble Queen. Thou art not destined to die this day.”

Author's Notes:

AN: Well, that was a crazy chapter. I told you it would get better. :P
Anyway, thanks to Irrespective for the quote. And thanks to all of you for reading!
I’ll be back with the next chapter soon(ish), but until then, here’s the ENs!

Weapons’s’s’s’s EN:
Somehow this story managed to turn ninety degrees, then flip seven hundred and twelve more. I wasn’t ready. Anyhow, looking good and I’m holding out for more soon.

Dapper's EN: Interesting how the Changeling becomes concerned for her companion after the right things like "emotion suppressors" are installed. Wonder how this will affect their dynamic...

Chapter 9: Rise and Fall

“The Space Wolves revere the Emperor as the greatest warrior of all time, the only being to have ever bested Leman Russ in hand-to-hand combat. When Space Wolves call upon Russ or the Emperor in battle, it is to witness the deeds of men and to judge the fallen.” - Meditations upon the Fang, Codex: Space Wolves (5th Edition), p. 27.

User ‘Fabricator-General’: “Have the escapees been located, Enginseer?”

The harsh buzz of binary echoed across the metallic confines of the Ommisian Temple. The ensignia of a skull within a gear and half replaced with cybernetics stood proudly between some of the many steel pillars of the temple.

User ‘Enginseer Bronze Circuit’: “Affirmative, my lord. They have been spotted by the India-Whiskey cameras in sector six-three-seven. What are your orders?”

The metallic centipede-like form of the Fabricator-General hissed and steamed in irritation as its internal processors whirred to life. The low red lights barely illuminating its form to the lowly Engiseer.

User ‘Fabricator-General’: “[irritation][muttering]Of all the places…[/irritation][/muttering] Encircle the area with Skitarii legion ‘Lucius’ and capture them once they leave sector six-null-null.”

User ‘Enginseer Bronze Circuit’: “By your word, my lord.”

Attempted hailing detected. Priority: Primus
Loading data package…

Arcane was drawn out of the changeling queen’s tale by a flashing prompt in the middle of his vision. Its existence calling all but the smallest bits of his attention to it.

Error. Data corruption detected. Displaying salvageable data.

-----
FROM THE LIPS OF THE MACHINE GOD
TO THE MINDS OF HIS CHOSEN.
HEED HIS WORDS, AND OBEY.
-----
F######E ORDO##########
TO SK##############LUCI##

REROUTE FORCES TO SECTO############### BY T###ORDER OF THE ###################
BEGIN AR## SHUTDOWN ORDER 16###
CAPTURE THE ESCAPEES AT A########
FOR THE#######DISGRACED ############ AND HAVE TAKEN ONE OF OUR OW#

####HI# WILL BE D###
THUS DO WE INVOKE THE MACHINE#####
######### MAKE WHOLE THAT #######WAS SUNDERED.

End Message.

Arcane’s eyebrows rose at this, with his eyes flicking over to his minimap. With a mental command that he had yet to fully understand, he expanded it to take up his entire vision. Through the mess of changeling icons, he took note of a solid circle of red that slowly constricted upon the hive, stopping only at the edge of the changelings’ influence.

Dedicating additional cores to reconnaissance…
Tuning sensors away from ‘TAG:CHANGELING’...

With naught a sound nor flicker, the changeling icons disappeared and the circle of red turned into a mass of dots. Each moved with calculated precision to leave an exact distance between them. Behind the main mess of dots, some larger icons moved into place, at least one for every five of the smaller ones.

Detecting hostile tags…
Hostile tags identify as ‘Legiones Skitarii: Lucius.’
Higher Ranking Priests Detected.
Attempting to hail…

‘Skitarii? Isn’t that… something. Why do I feel like I should know this?’ Arcane mused, steam raising from his chest as additional cores were dedicated to conscious thought. As he turned his attention away from the, now minimized, map, he took note of Zethala’s story slowing to an end.

“And I heard hisss voice cut through my sssleep of death, he called to me and sssaid, ‘return to usss, noble Queen. Thou art not destined to die thisss day.’” Zethala concluded, her faraway look fading as she returned to the moment.

“Chitin. We have hostiles incoming… ‘Legiones Skitarii, Lucius,’ apparently.” He interjected, his tone low in an attempt to go unnoticed by the queen in the room.

“The Ssskitarii? Impossssible, they are not allowed on our grounds.” The high queen interrupted with a tone of finality. “You mussst be missstaken, drone.”

“Do the walls count?” Arcane shot back, ‘I’m really getting tired of this…’

She only replied with a hiss and her ears twitched as if listening to something they couldn’t hear. A few moments passed as they stood in awkward silence before it was broken by Zethala raising from her throne with another hostile hiss. “What did you sssteal from them?”

“Only our own lives.” Chitin replied honestly, flinching back from something Arcane couldn’t sense.

“Of fucking courssse. Now they want their livesss back.” Zethala spat, summoning her magic into the form of a long spear and a tower shield.

The spear was two and a half meters of the purest gold, its metallic surface gleaming with a burning passion. Across the sides of its spear head, of which made it look more like a bladestaff that anything, was the words ‘No mercy for the guilty sun’ engraved and backed by silver fineary. The haft was wrapped in cured leather, its deep brown accenting the gold even more as a single ribbon of red velvet snaked down from a rectangular cut-out in the blade.

The shield, in contrast was of shining silver and chrome. Accented by a pair of burning red rubies near the middle of the shield, and additional accents of browning bronze. Like the armour of platemail, the shield had plates of steel and bronze layered on top on another for additional strength. The face of the shield was decorated with geometric patterns that drew the eyes to the pair of rubies that looked out like cat’s eyes.

Not even breaking stride, the high queen grasped the weapons in her three-horned green magic and approached Arcane, stopping only once she was within two meters of him. With a steeled tone, she addressed him with a certainty that sent a shiver down his spine.

“We cannot ssstand againssst them forever. They are here for you two, that much I am sssure.” She explained calmly, her gaze piercing through Arcane with its intensity. “Our forcesss are… disssplaced, and we only have a ssskeleton guard on hoof. Ssso, will you ssstand with usss againssst thossse who pursue you?”

High threat detected.
Skitarii Onager Dunecrawlers have became hostile.
Avoidance advised.

Sparing a glance over to Chitin, who seemed to be calculating the risks of this operation, Arcane steeled himself and spoke with certainty. “May I discuss this with the Princess?”

“Of courssse.” Zethala replied before continuing to the entrance of the throne room. “Tell the guardsss outssside your anssswer. I mussst prepare the defencesss.”

The main door closed with a echoing boom as the temperature seemed to raise a few degrees with Zethala gone. Chitin hissed out a low breath as she shook her muscles and loosened them from the tension she hadn’t noticed gaining.

“What do you think?” Arcane asked evenly, his voice void of the fear she once knew him for.

“I don’t know. Do you know anything about what’s coming?” Chitin replied, thinking over her options. ‘We can fight, hopefully earning some respect from the ‘High Queen,’ for whatever that’s worth… We could probably make it if we run, I doubt they could detect me when I’m actually trying…’

“Not really. There is… a lot of them though.” Arcane shrugged, seemingly disappointed at his lack of information.

‘Chances are, we’re outnumbered. Not sure about being outmatched, for as technologically advanced as they are, I doubt they can take on an Ancient Queen.’ Chitin hummed in thought, drawing a mental map of her information on the ‘Skitarii.’ ‘We’re still going in near-blind, and as annoying as it is, the Queen is likely to be our best option… I’m out of my depth, our resident god is missing, and I’m stuck with a pony who knows less about himself than normal.’

‘But at the same time… if we help her, we might be able to get some new gear. As useful as fangs are, I wouldn’t mind some extra firepower for later…’ Looking over Arcane, Chitin took note of the large array of futuristic weaponry he had strapped to himself. It was… interesting to her that a pony, even one that had gone through as much as he had, would have the guts to stare down a queen. Let alone one as old as Zethala claims to be.

“Do you think we could take them?” Chitin asked levelly, the irony of her asking a pony for strategic advice wasn’t lost on her.

“Alone? Definitely not. But with some help? Maybe.” Arcane shrugged, letting out a hot gust of air from his muzzle. “I’ve got a… ‘pop-up’ saying that there are about a thousand of them, and another saying that the changelings number only in the hundreds.”

“Any of those hunks of metal telling you what we should do?” She sighed, quickly checking over her wings for any signs of decay.

“It predicts a… sixty-seven point three-three-four percent chance of survival with their assistance. Along with a thirty-nine point six-one percent chance of minimal casualties.” Arcane answered diligently, his glowing red eyes staring at something only he could see. “It doubts that Bravo will survive, but it knows that Zethala will rake in the highest ‘kill count.’”

“Fine. This is acceptable chances. I may be able to sneak out of here but with all your metal, you’ll definitely give us away.” Chitin reasoned, buzzing her wings in irritation. “Fighting will probably be our best option…”

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll help however I can.” Arcane nodded, his voice shaking slightly.

“Do you think you can handle it?” Chitin asked, a sincere tone leaking into her voice for but a moment before being replace with her usual irritation. “You are a pony after all.”

“Not sure if I count anymore though.” Arcane replied jokingly, his attempt at humour contrasting his sour emotions greatly. “I’ll be… fine. I’ll live.”

‘No comment on that one. He tastes bad enough already.’ Chitin’s scowl lightening slightly as she began to make her way to the door. Arcane falling behind her with his creepily consistent stride.

The shining chrome doors, accented with lighter silver and taller than three of her own heights, opened with barely a touch. Its mass split across the middle and sucked into the roof and floor with naught a sound.

On the other side, a pair of changeling guards stood, shorter than the others by a meter or so, their height only just allowing them to stare down at the unlikely duo. They were thinner than the others, with more muscles in the hind legs than the front ones. They were equipped with armour reminiscent of princess Luna’s guards’ own, with the only main difference being their armaments, instead of swords or spears, they had a long ‘L’ of blackened chrome. With accents of the weapon being done in a glowing red light. The pair looked over to the young princess with indifference, intrigued only by the noise she made in her wake.

“We wish to assist your queen in combat. But first we must be armed and armoured.” Chitin commanded, ignoring the foul taste in her mouth that followed. “We also expect the same treatment for our followers. Including the one near the outer end of the hive.”

“As you command, princess.”

After a considerable walk through the sanitised, bleak, and most of all, repetitive halls of metal, Chitin, Arcane, and the guard that was acting as a tour guide, was greeted with Bravo and another pair of guards standing before a large, vault-like door.

“My queen! It is a great blessing to see you once more!” Bravo greeted, his eyes still glazed-over with the pink tinge of Chitin’s venom.

“Yes, yes. I’m glad you’re no longer turning into a pony-sickle.” She dismissed sarcastically with a wave of her hoof. Her eyes piercing the three guards that were now bunched up near the door.

“As am I, my queen. But I must inquire, what are we doing here? My… uh… company, are not one for conversation.” Bravo nervously chuckled, giving himself some distance from the aforementioned guards in favour of being closer to his queen.

“We’re going to war. The hive is going to be under assault soon, and we are assisting in the defence.” Arcane butted in, doing his best to make his voice seem calm and cold.

‘To be fair, he’s doing a good job… for a pony.’ Chitin noted with a light roll of her eyes. Her own mental tone surprising herself with its lack of her patented snark.

“Ah, of course, my lord.” Bravo replied, visibly deflating as he was ignored by his queen before lighting up again as he turned to Chitin with another question. “And, my queen! I must inquire, but, what role will I play in your brilliant strategy?”

‘I’m really starting to dislike his boot-licking… Fucking venom, I knew I should have used a different compound.’ She sighed, looking over to the guards that waited tirelessly for her order to continue. “Support. I’ll need someone to watch my back whilst I work.”

“Wondrous! I’ll be sure to do this to the best of my abilities, my queen!” Bravo chittered happily, ignoring the looks of amusement from Arcane.

‘Understandable. It isn’t very often one sees such a large stallion act with so much emotion.’ Chitin shrugged, allowing a light smirk to grace her muzzle as she turned to address the waiting guards. “We require a set of light infiltration armour, a set of heavy armour, and a set of support rigging for my escort. Along with any weapons befitting of our stature.”

“At once.” One of the guards replied before running off to a side room.

A few moments passed before the guard, assumedly the same one, and an additional pair of ponies joined them. The ponies carrying a large assortment of equipment that, yet again assumedly, was for them.

The ponies were unremarkable, both of them were earth pony stallions, and both of them bore red-tinged and glossed over eyes that came with the usage of a changeling’s most useful venom. But the equipment on the other hoof, the equipment was interesting.

The pair sorted it into three piles, one in front of each of Chitin’s… party. The first to be finished was that of Bravo’s, its arsenal numbering the least of all of the piles.

The armour, that Bravo oh-so hurriedly equipped, was light. Consisting of a flexible leather under armour along with a few plates to cover vitals and joints. But the baulk of the mass was within the backpack that came with it.

With a boxy main part that was about half as thick as his torso, and a pair of metallic… arms that protruded from the left side. On the right side was another pair of arms, but instead of the two-pronged hands of the others, they had a proportionally large chain blade and drill attached to a boxy mess of wires and tubing. The other, unlike the tools of pain offered by the first, was an assortment of needles that were attached to the main body of the backpack by multicoloured surgical tubes. To top it all off, it was attached to Bravos body by a mess of straps, and most importantly, a thick bundled wire that attached to a hidden port behind his right ear.

Other than the suit, his pile had four full-hoof shoes that, similarly to the needles, attached to the backpack through bundled wires. They, unlike the backpack, were strapped close to his legs as they made their way up to the boxy part of his backpack. As he equipped them, they began to crackle and glow with a violent looking energy.

The second pile to be finished, Arcane’s, was quite different. With no real armour, and only an assortment of plates that the ponies attached to the inside of his armoured trench coat. Though, it covered the other end of the offense-defense spectrum with an even larger assortment of weapons than Bravo’s, or even the guard’s, loadouts.

For his right side he had a box near his flank that shot forth eight barrels almost longer then he was, that were attached to each other at two points near the middle and just before their end. The final thing of note for the box, would be the belt of coppery brass that attached to a plain box that followed the gun on the underside.

On the other hoof, his left side he was equipped with a set of boxy, metallic saddlebags that took up his whole side. The bags glowed from blue strips of light that bordered its edges and a mess of blue wires that connected the bag to itself.

If this wasn’t enough, the get-up also came with another, larger backpack that held short, almost hoof-length tubes that shot out in every direction. Racks upon racks of them layered upon themselves until one could barely see what they were attached to.

Along with this, Arcane was also given four of the same full-hoof shoes that was given to Bravo, and an additional layer of armour under the sleeves of the trench coat. Turning what was once a medium weight set of armour into something to rival and outpace the plate mail suits of his homeland.

But, in the end, her pile of armaments held the greatest rewards. A set of magically lightened half-plate backed with blackened leather and forged in shade-steel.

‘An alloy of titanium, steel, and changeling goo. Stronger than any of the three when apart, and able to amplify any runes or enchantments placed upon it. Including my shapeshifting!’ Chitin mentally giggled, casting a quick spell to keep her excitement off of her face. ‘I thought the recipe was lost during the original purge of the Everfree hive! Ha ha ha! In your face, Chrysalis!’

Along with the armour, a long flowing cloak was attached to the shoulder plates weaved out of the finest silk and enchanted to mask its wielder from view.

For the weapons, a pair of hoofblades were attached to the armour’s front shoes, and a rapier, crackling with magical and electrical energy, was sheathed into a scabbard lain across the back of the armour.

Along with this, a short, also boxy, ‘L’ was held on the right side of the armour’s flank, its power radiating from a thick blue tube that replaced all but the tip of its barrel.

Weapons interface detected.
Downloading software…

Arcane shuddered at the foreign feeling of a hoof long metallic interface plug inserting itself into the back of his skull. Its mass seemingly disappearing into hammerspace as it entered him.

Additional cores found. Directives completed.
Updating self-diagnostics…

CPU Nodes: 18 (57% Engaged)
Memory Nodes: 20
Power Level: 76% (-)
-----
Directives:
Primary = Maintain Operation
Secondary = Restore Subsystems
Tertiary = Restore Connection to Uplink
-----
Damaged System Report:
Stabilization Core = 76% Efficiency
Arcane Power Conversion Ring = 46% Efficiency
Mag-Lock Pads 1-3 = 63% Efficiency
Mag-Lock Pad 4 = ERROR
Uplink Systems = ERROR, HIGH PRIORITY
-----
Additional Notes:
Passive Thu’um Absorption Systems have encountered a overload within 24 hours. Maintenance is recommended.
Uplink nodes have been damaged beyond acceptable operation limits. Repair is required, Priority: Cobalt.

Arcane flinched as a sharp phantom pain pierced his mind, its pain resting over his right side. As the seconds passed, the pain ebbed into a dull throb before fading into the back of his mind. As if acting on instinct, or even curiosity, he clenched the area, marveling in the sensation of the pain slowly spinning and gaining speed.

WARNING: Safety is active. Firing is disabled.

Like a teasing seductress refusing the end of the event, the spinning continued, teetering on the edge of feeling complete. Always missing the something it needed to finish.

It was... odd. Like a pistol hammer striking on an explosive that wasn’t there, and like a cut that brings no pain.

‘Not odd… alien. Feeling alien in my own body…’ Arcane mentally sighed, the rotations slowing to a halt as he looked around the room.

Bravo was watching Chitin like a colt watching a foal-hood crush, whilst she was marveling over her new equipment with what seemed to be indifference. The ponies that had equipped the trio had left some time ago, their passing only being noticed by the blue unicorn after the fact. All while the changeling guards watched the young princess as if awaiting her orders.

He felt alone in a crowded room, the emotions that should follow still far from his mind, leaving only a hollow feeling. Oh, how he waited for the tears he knew so well, like a wife waiting a husband killed in conflict, he was greeted only by their absence.

Another plug joined the first, heralding the coming of more phantom pains. This pain, unlike the first, was emanating from his back and left side, but beyond that, they gave no difference to him. Even the words that stretched across his vision blurred together as he stared into space.

With a slow mechanical movement, he raised his right hoof into his vision. His eyes visualising the hard metallic surface that now was his hooves, covered only by the armour given to him by strangers. Was this what he was becoming? A weapon to be used by strangers?

The cold realisation had finally sunk in, the trust he once had for his immortal rulers shattered like a pane of glass in a battlefield.

He was lost.

Forsaken.

Abandoned.

‘Shhlinck,’

The sharpening of a sword cut through the solemn silence of his cave. His green fur lit only by the light of a few scattered torches.

‘Shhlinck,’

Around the cave, others had joined him in preparations. Fastening their old guardstallion armour, painted black to distinguish friend from foe.

‘Shhlinck,’

In a few hours they would be taking the first step. A minor raid of a military shipment traveling to a fortress on the borders of their once great nation.

‘Shhlinck,’

There wouldn’t be many of them coming, barely over a dozen in total, they would be relying on surprise more than anything else.

‘Shhlinck,’

“Mister Quill? There is somepony to see you.” A younger voice interrupted his brooding and staying his hoof.

“Who is it?” He asked back, raising from his seat and sheathing his wing-blades with a dramatic flourish.

“A miss Sharack,” the younger replied, uncertainty. The foreign name tripping his tongue and confusing his mind.

“Fine. Send her in.” Steel sighed with a roll of his eyes. Shuffling his wings in a slightly nervous anticipation.

“Of course.” The younger stallion replied in a feminine tone, his form burning away in a bright flash of green flame. The flesh burning to ash and blowing away on a non-existent wind as the once-stallion’s form grew and thinned.

Parts of the ash stuck to the creature’s chitinous form and blackened into a thick exoskeleton. As the flames rose to the mane and tail, they were stripped away as the green flames cooled into a fiery red that flowed in a nonexistent wind.

Finally, as the eyes melted into a mass of flying ash, a pair of sharp irus-less snake-like eyes. Their alien gaze piercing Steel like his namesake.

“What are you, a monster? A devil?” Steel demanded accusingly, drawing casting off his cloth sheaths with little care for their condition. “Or are you an assassin? Sent forth from the King of Demons?”

“No.” The feminine temptress replied, it's slender supermodel-like proportions slinking slightly to the side, pointedly ignoring the swords and blades drawn by the other ponies in the cave.

The other ponies looked to Steel, as if non-vocally asking for permission to attack the newcomer.

‘No… I shall not stoop to Celestia’s racism. Let’s hear what she has to say.’ Steel mentally sighed, shaking his head before turning to ‘Sharack’ once more. “Then speak what you had brought.”

“We seek to trade.” She replied bluntly, her eyes never leaving the stallion before her. “Information, for bodies.”

“Of what do you seek?” Steel asked, frustration building.

“We wish to know.” Sharack answered, her fangs flashing in the fire-light as she spoke. “Of this nation, and of your kind.”

“And why should we trust you?” Steel shot back, baring his teeth in mounting anger.

“You don’t have a choice.”

‘My Queen, the guests are being given basic equipment training as requested. It seems the princess and the flesh-droid have never wielded ranged weaponry before now.’ A drone buzzed in her mind, a concoction of cybernetics and genetic modification receiving the ‘transmission’ as effectively as if the drone was right next to her.

‘Good. Bring them to sector-three-four-seven as soon as they are able.’ Zethala commanded with barely a passing thought.

As she stood on the battlements of her hive of steel and chrome, she gazed over the small legion that was assigned to her sector. With only a pair of squads, one of her personal detachment and one of her ranged corps, manning the area.

Some stood before great cannons, others sharpened their weapons in grim determination. All while slight buzzes filled the air as they spoke in their voiceless tones.

A by-product of their perfected genetics to be sure. Efficiency having created a unnerving intimidation factor for any who stood against them.

On the horizon, the great metallic walls of her tower stood indifferent to the bloodshed to come. It’s surface glistening with black and red as the Skitarii legions flooded from their hiding places and prepared themselves in rank-and-file lines of computer-simulated efficiency.

The hostile forces stood a handful of kilometers away, well out of range of small-arms fire. Yet, as far as they were, Zethala didn’t need to see them to know how it looked.

Thousands of cybernetic ponies, made of metal more than the flesh they once had, backed by great siege walkers and abominations of metal and oil. The harsh static of their machine-language stinging the ears and draining morale as they prayed to their God of metal.

It would be a pyrrhic victory if they ever found one. She was outnumbered and outgunned, the only advantages she had would be the magical might of her soldiers.

She sighed, calculating any reason she could find for them to attempt such an action. To put such force behind an action that would only yield a simple flesh-droid.

‘My Queen, we have lost contact with India Tango, Delta, sixteen-twenty one. Their last known location was two sectors from you.’ Another drone notified, his words shortened and sharped from years of military-grade bio-radio operation. ‘Alpha Foxtrot, one-five has been dispatched for seek-and-destroy. Romeo Alpha Foxtrot, eleven-fifteen is on standby. Please advise.’

‘Deploy auxiliary forces to the affected sectors. Prepare the primary artillery pieces to fire on the Skitarii forces. Two barrages of Echo Mike Papa shells, then load the Hugo-class shells. Do not fire the third barrage until additional confirmation.’ The high queen replied, swinging her spear in cold indifference as she ran the numbers. ‘Power the main turrets and the heavy autoloader cannons. Activate the internal anti-personnel defences and launch the War CPUs.’

‘Confirmed.’

With the drone’s passing words, sections of the internal dome that made up her hive, split and revealed long cannons. Each covered in masses of pipes and wires, their very movement steaming the air as the cold internals of the hive rushed into the hotter outer air.

A few moments passed as Zethala scanned the horizon, each second ticking by at a snail’s pace for her bio-engineered senses. But, on the ten second mark, the sky was filled with arching artillery strikes.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Great vents of steam filled the air as the cannons’ explosive charges launched their payloads far into the sky.

She gripped her weapons harder as the shots closed upon their targets, her multiple millenia worth of logged combat hours still not breaking the tenseness that come with the first shots of a battle.

With great explosions of energy, the shells made contact. Thousands being felled as the electromagnetic pulses fried the Skitarii’s extensive cybernetics. Any troop beyond the standard foot soldier stood firm against the attack, their importance warranting more extensive protection than their robotic slaves.

With a sigh, Zethala watched as more ranks of foot soldiers broke from the wall to regain the losses. Even as another barrage came rushing for the troops, the indifferent legion began their endless trot to war.

In a way, it reminded her of the long-dead humans and their unmatched stubbornness when it came to anything that tried to stop them.

The sheer determination to fight till’ the last, even when their kin were cut down like cattle. Still they came, like a wave of bodies and blood.

It was a shame they broke when they did. It was always a challenge to fight them.

With great explosions, the ground just outside the Changeling fortress erupted as long drills spewed forth from the levels below. Destroying the metallic piping and cables that ran under Zethala’s hooves as they unleashed waves of skitarii from their hulls.

“OPEN FIRE!” One of her captains shouted to the gunnery crews, heralding the outbursts of autocannon fire as her troops followed the command wordlessly.

The hivemind was abuzz with chatter as messages were relayed through designated conduits, and with but a simple mental request, the messages waned and spat out the information Zethala required.

From the other sectors, similar attacks occurred, each with similar results.

Brass littered the ground as the High Queen waded through the mass of her subjects to the castle wall. Silently from behind her, her personal guard followed, their heads on a swivel as they scanned for any threats.

The battlefield was a mess, the corpses of skitarii littered the ground as the autocannons tore them apart. The drills fared better, as hull mounted weapons spewed fire and phosphor into her lines, some scoring kills, others just being caught by armour plates.

From the horizon, blasts of atomising energy tore into the walls, sundering what was once whole, and turning any caught in the beam into ash on the wind. Screams cut through the hivemind as her children died around her, the guilt having long since became a dull sensation weighing on her mind.

They wouldn’t breach the wall with what they had, but they could cull many as they tried.

‘Boom! Boom!’

A new sound echoed through the battlefield, barely audible over the gunfire and death. The sounds of great footsteps, slowing becoming louder as time wore on.

‘SCREEEEEEEEECH!’

With echoing and painful screech, a titanic walker tore through the metals of the wall like paper. On one arm, a great cannon with bullets larger than most changelings, on the other, a chainsaw longer than the wall is tall. Upon its back, a massive missile launcher turned to train its deadly payload to the fortress-castle.

Plooms of fire streaked across the sky as the warheads launched from the monster of metal. Followed afterward by the deafening booms of pony-sized ballistics being fired. The bullets wouldn’t make it to the wall, but the missiles landed with great explosions as emergency ion shields deployed and struggled to hold.

‘Fire the next barrage on the Imperial Knights! Zethala mentally barked, her mind going into overdrive as more screeches heralded additional knights joining the fray. ‘Continue to fire Hugo shells until those things are brought down! Open the Forbidden Armory and bring forth the Wolves!’

‘C-confirmed. Wolf unit “Talon” onroute to your position, H-high Queen.’ The bio-radio operator replied, attempting to keep his mental composure. Coughing and static replaced his voice before a final piece was said. ‘Rustsalkers have breached the command centre-Cough, Cough- it was a honor my Q-queen…’

“SHIT!” Zethala exclaimed as the connection was cut. “You! Get to the command centre! You! Get the poniesss here, now!”

From the wall Princeps Neolius lumbered forward, following the pair of knights that had came with him. His Castellan-pattern Knight armour dwarfing the smaller escort considerably as his titanic form strained the damaged floor beneath it.

Skitarii rushed out of his way as he surveyed the battlefield. His knight’s neural feeds spitting out data as he gazed across the fallen, the legion that had acted as a vanguard had already suffered great losses. With smaller artillery pieces having shattered some of the crab-like walkers, and the defensive wall having torn through any infantry caught out of cover.

Pathetic. I have waited years to fight these beasts, and this is what we get.

The Knight’s spirit commented, causing its pair of Siegebreaker Cannons to twitch in their housings on top of its hull.

‘Agreed. It is a shame they sent their armies away. Too much faith in treaties.’ Neolius replied, as he continued to command the knight forward.

As if it was his own, he lifted the Knight’s left arm to fire off a burning ray of red energy from his Volcano Lance. The laser impacting with the castle’s ion shields with a deafening snap of superheated air.

Following his example, the spirit followed up with launching the pair of shieldbreaker missiles nestled between its ‘shoulder blades.’ The missiles skipping in and out of existence as they traveled further than any infantry-mounted ballistics could.

With great explosions, the missiles skipped through the ion shield detonating on the battered walls. Sections of the wall fell before the explosion, with the ion shield flickering before following suit.

But, from the ashes, the bugs shot their retribution in the form of an artillery barrage.

Rotating ion shields… Brace for impact.

The shells landed hard on his personal defences, the great force and sudden stop causing the a great jolt as Neolius’ knight strained backwards.

Barrage neutralised. Ion shields at 37% and charging. Knight Paladin Eratus has been lost. Knight Crusader Drugal has been disabled. Repair crews are on route.

As the soot and ash cleared from his Knight’s cameras, Neolius looked out over the destroyed frame of one of his escorts, and the heavily damaged form of his other.

“Does Eratus live? Or has he fallen with his metal half?”

He has been slain. House Eternal Spear’s finest has fallen to these beasts.

“A sad day indeed. But we shall morne later, the siege is still afoot.” Neolius sighed as he commanded his knight to move forward once more.

The grim hours passed slowly as the siege waged on. The first wall had broken before his knight’s assault, and Neolius marched once more through the dense outer city of Zethala’s hive.

The other knight squads had broken through their sectors only a few hours after he had, some of the faster warhulls already having began their assault on the next bastion.

The Omnissiah will be pleased once we recover these beasts’ artifacts.

His knight commented, filling the daunting silence of the dying city.

“I only hope it was worth our honor.” Neolius replied grimmly, scanning the ruins with his breast mounted turrets. The miniature fusion launchers of the multi-meltas already emitting a low heat in preparation.

Bah, honor can be replaced and repaired. These bugs would have only grown stronger without our interference.

“We had lived with them for over five thousand years without incident. Was the peace worth that little?”

Weakness grows from idleness. Peace is just stagnation. This was inevitable, even if it a thousand years or so later than expected.

House Neolius will grow stronger with the deaths of these bugs. And our brothers in the Mechanicum shall surely reward us for our participation, after all, it has been many years since I have gotten some new armaments.

“Is the Volcano Lance not enough for you?” Neolius replied jokingly, “A lascannon bigger than a tank, still too small?”

It fires too slow for my tastes. I already have enough anti-armour, and I like the idea of a twin, or maybe even quad, auto-loading battle cannon.

With a roll of his flesh-side eyes, Neolius turned his gaze forward to his brothers-in-arms. Before long, they would be in sight of the inner wall, and the warpath would be amongst them once more.

‘ATTENTION BATTLE TEAM PRIMUS. WE HAVE LOST CONTACT BATTLE TEAM DELTA, APPROXIMATELY THREE BLOCKS AWAY FROM YOU. STAY ON GUARD, BATTLE TEAM DOMINUS SUSPECTS A MOST FOUL PLOY BY THE FOES OF THE OMNISSIAH. OVER.’

[transmitting]Affirmative. Over.[/transmitting]
A shame they put the cog-head from House Raven in charge. If we lead this battle, it would be over already.

The once shining chrome of the city burned and waned, the ugly scars of war still fresh, the enchanted flames still burned bright as Chitin weaved through the ruins.

It had been going well, the hostile forces had broken before the walls, and there were bodies apleantly to man the defences.

How foolish of her, when surrounded with her own kind, to let her guard fall so far. Zethala had been wounded by an invisible assassin just before the fall of the wall. Missiles trailed fire and filled the artificial sky, abominable machines of fire and steel walked through the defences like they were nothing.

Arcane had left her, having pulled back to the inner wall with Zethala, acting as a personal guard as everything went to shit.

Even Bravo had left, having taken a bullet meant for her as he fulfilled a duty falsified by her poison.

She was glad Arcane hadn’t seen that. She was glad he hadn’t seen her peel the dying body off of herself as she left the mind controlled drone behind. She was glad he hadn’t heard his dying screams for her as he was overrun by the cyborg footsoldiers.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest, though the raw emotion lacked its bite. Like a numb lava poured into her veins, leaving her only the sense of duty required to move on.

Following the shadows, she slunk into an intact balcony to watch her prey. Their thunderous steps moved ever onwards as the five titanic walkers scanned the buildings for hostiles.

‘Oh how seldom do ponies tend to look up. Even in war, they are blind.’

Each walker was easily well over ten times her height, with the single ‘commander’ in the middle being almost twice as tall as the other. They felt safe with their towering height, she was sure of this, but in the end, they would fall just as easily as the rest.

She silently leaped from her position, passing over the heads of the walkers ad she passed uneventfully through their defensive shielding. Her hair tingled as she passed through unnoticed, her horn glowing under an invisibility spell as she dampened her hoofsteps and shrouded her form.

With nought a sound, she drew her new weapons as she neared the commanding walker’s access hatch. Steeled resolve and surprise would save her, while instincts would bring this mission into fruition.

Standing a few meters away from the hatch, she cast another spell to give her extra grip before aiming her pistol.

Vvvvawah-BADOOM!

With an almighty discharge of plasma, the hatch melted and deformed before her. With another click of a button, great vents of heat gushed out of the weapon as she aimed the vents into the newly-made hole.

She was greeted with a scream as the titanic walker stumbled and began to fall. It’s diver melted.

The other walkers attempted to turn, but let loose no fire before she had connected sword-first into another. Her blade sung of death as she used it to dismember the walker’s weapons, limbs of steel fell to the ruins as the end of the walkers drew near.

Time passed at a snail’s pace as the other walkers poured fire and death into their fallen in an attempt to slay her.

But alas, it was for nought.

Five had entered, and as time passed, none would leave.

DOOF, DOOF, DOOF, DOOF, DOOF, DOOF!

WARNING!
Combat Stims exceeding recommended levels!

The faceless fell before him, in their pony-like forms that stunk of oil and stuffed with metal. Their emotionally null faces dying like swine as they clawed and spat fire in defiance.

His gun spat death and spoke lead as it launched high calibre rounds into the endless swarms of skitarii. His gaze saw red and his mind was clouded as his drug-induced rage was lain bare before his foes.

A cocktail of chemicals and simulants injected by a body given to him by those he now used it against. He was given a post, to guard the last wall they said, to protect the High Queen for as long as he could.

They said this long ago, before the long hours had passed. They said this like a father addressing a dying son, with a finality reserved only for the certainty of death. Like a fool he had followed the orders of the changelings, but, like a hero of old, he held the line.

Before the hours, there were more who stood with him. Guards and machines alike stood with him, and with each death another shot of chemicals kept him from running. Kept him from his pony-like nature.

Somewhere along the hours, he had broke. His mind retreated to escape the insanity-inducing death that he found himself spewing. And then the spirit took control. The spirit that lurked in the minds of all. The dark thought that tempted all ponies into acts unspeakable. To kill the innocent, to rape the untempted, to purge those against him.

DOOF, DOOF, DOOF, DOOF, DOOF, DOOF!

He waded through the blood and gore, the giblets of the damned stuck to his fur, matting and ruffling all that it could find. His legs passing through a thick soup of blood and oil, his tattered armour doing nothing to stop the gore.

“Do not ask which creature screams in the night! Do not question who waits for you in the shadows!” His maddened cries echoed to those who wouldn’t listen. “It is my cry that wakes you in the night! And my body that crouches in the shadows!”

“Die! Die! DIE!” He cried in time with his slowly pounding cannon, each word and blast punctuated by the metal skull of a skitarii caving in.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Author's Notes:

AN:
So… That was a productive chapter.
I hid an extra quote in there somewhere, so if you find it, good job! If you know who said it, better job!
Sorry about taking so long, everything is just mildly on fire at the moment.
ALSO! After the ENs, there is an outline of the Adeptus Mechanicus hierarchy for those who are interested. It’s not the same as the one in Warhammer 40,000, as I’ve added/removed/moved things around into something I’ll be using. So… enjoy?

[err. EN machine broke]
-----
Hierarchy:
???
???
???
Omnissiah’s Chosen
Fabricator-General
Fabricator-Locum
Magos Prime
Arch-Magos
Magos Delta
Magos
Logis Prime
Logis Delta
Arch-Logis
Logis
Tech-Priest Dominus
Collegia Titanicus Princeps
Techseer Prime
Arch-Techseer
Techseer
Arch-Genetor
Genetor
Artisan
Electro-Priest
Enginseer
Transmechanic
Lexmechanic
High Runepriest
Runepriest
High Priest
Moderati
Sensori
Steersmen
Priest
Skitarii
Menials / Servitors