{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.