“Most leaders spend time trying to get others to think highly of them, when instead they should try to get their people to think more highly of themselves. It’s wonderful when the people believe in their leader. It’s more wonderful when the leader believes in their people! You can’t hold a man down without staying down with him.” -Booker Washington

Mount Pleasant Island:

“Nice and quiet, we don’t want to let them know we’re coming,” Nimbus said, as he picked up a combat knife from a fallen Enclave soldier, and continued making his way up the ridgeline, End of the Line grasped tightly in hoof.

“Hey, look, or to be more accurate, listen to this…” Midnight called, gesturing Nimbus to come over. He held up an audiolog, and inserted it into his Pipbuck.

“Alright Sharpe, I'm going to go over this one more time. The Stealthbucks are locked away in a safe behind the second screen over at Golden Meadows Cinema, you know the one that plays that old horror movie from before the war. I'd watch out for the Droolers that tend to hang out around there, but you should be able to distract them. Hopefully you're not going to need them, but…” a mare’s voice crackled from the log.

Next thing anyone heard, was the sound of plasma fire. Nimbus’ eyes narrowed. The Enclave. Which version, he couldn’t tell, but he knew it had to be them via the weapons fire alone, and the dying screams of ponies as they were reduced to nothing but ash.

“Celestia-Fucking-Damnit!” the mare’s voice swore. “It’s the Enclave! Get your-”

Another dying scream, and the audio log ended. Nimbus let out a growl, he wouldn’t let those ponies deaths be in vain. They were damn good soldiers, damn good. Cursing himself for even using that phrase Stormy liked to spout off (Old habits die hard), he suddenly noticed some different looking Pipbucks on the arms of the soldiers he and his group had just dealt with. They looked like normal Pipbucks for the most part, but bore a small radar dish. This must have been the Stealthbucks the mare was talking about.

He took them off the soldiers’ forelegs, and tossed one to Riptalon, and another to Midnight.

“Here, take them. Should work in our favor. Should be a real fucking hoot and a half for the Enclave when you sneak up on them like this…” Nimbus mused.

“What about you? Shouldn’t you take one?” Midnight asked, and Nimbus soundly smacked him around the head for asking such a stupid question.

“I’m a sniper, it’s in my job description not to be seen. I’ll be under cover of darkness, hiding behind things. They won’t see the shots coming. Well, till they get holes blown through their head. Now, enough talk, we’ve got work to do…” Nimbus growled, a vindictive smile gracing his face, one that unnerved everyone around him. It was like he enjoyed this a little too much.

As Riptalon and Midnight put on their newly acquired Stealthbucks, they soon faded away into the background like they were wearing a form of active camouflage.

“Should be fun…” Riptalon grinned. “Always wanted one of these…”

Continuing on their way up the ridgeline, Nimbus suddenly held up a hoof for the group to halt their progress. Looming over them, ominously in fashion, was the massive form of the anti-air cannon, spotlights all around it and Enclave soldiers patrolling it like Target had described.

“How the hell are we going to…?” Riptalon trailed off.

“Take that thing down?” Twilight asked. “I was going to fly up and bring it down with spellfire, while you three provide me with covering fire, but failing that… Riptalon, you’re an expert with explosives right?”

“Yeah, I consider myself a fairly knowledgeable griffon when it comes to making things go boom…” Riptalon replied.

“Okay, failing my first plan, you’re to get inside that thing and lay down as many explosives as you can, and bring it down from the inside.”

“Great…” Riptalon muttered. “That’d leave me very little time to get out before the whole damn thing collapses right on top of me, but… Suppose we all have to die sometime right?” he asked.

“Hold it, hush, the both of you!” Midnight hissed, as he heard the sound of hoofsteps, and everyone hid behind a boulder as a soldier approached, Novasurge rifle in hoof.

Quickly and quietly, Riptalon ran up behind him, and wrapped his claws around the soldier’s throat and began cutting off his airflow. Soon, the soldier slumped to the ground dead.

“There, if anyone comes looking, looks like he’s just taking a nap…” Riptalon smiled. “No questions asked.”

“Till the gunfire starts up anyways..” Midnight muttered before once again saying in Neighponiese: “Shinu mae no meiyo… Watashitachi wa hijō ni warui hi o sugoshite imasu.”

He had no idea on how right he was on that last aspect.

Cocking his rifle, Nimbus grimaced. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

He sighed, here’s hoping Henri and company were having a better time getting off this island than they were taking down the Enclave forces that called it home…

With Henri:

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the island’s coastal edges, Henri and the rest of the group were shooting their way up to the to Enclave’s landing pad, borrowed Novasurge rifles in hoof.

To their surprise, there actually was a Dust Devil waiting for them, the massive VTOL craft/gunship parked nice and neatly in front of them.

“Well, I’ll be. He actually kept his promise…” Henri mused aloud, thinking back.

“So, I’ll do you a favor. There’s a Dust Devil waiting for you at where you first landed. Take it, and your company and leave this island in peace and just let us have Twilight Sparkle and the gifts she’s so kindly offered us for free. Our newest emancipation tools, if you will.You shall not be bothered by any of my men, unless you bother us. Are we clear? I scratch your back, and you scratch mine, understand?”

In a way, she supposed, seeing Enclave soldiers turned to ash instead of shot full of holes and bleeding out was more merciful on Starglow’s psyche. If only by a little. Henri wondered, where had she lost herself, justifying things like this as merciful on a small filly’s state of mind? She supposed, it started when she met the infamous mare known as Security, AKA Blackjack.

It was some years ago, Henri had actually lost count, but she supposed it wasn’t long after she met the mare she’d come to know as Winter Breeze. Predictably, it was in a bar, AKA one of Blackjack’s favorite hangouts.

Old blues and jazz music played in the background, as Henri got herself another shot glass of whiskey. Wild Pegasus, she noted.

“Good choice, I think…” A mare’s voice complimented. The mare was mostly white, with a black and red mane, and an ace of spades as her Cutie Mark. Henri’s eyes visibly widened, she knew only one mare who fit that description. The white mare smashed her metal hoof on the bar. “Of course it’s a good choice! It’s whiskey, Goddess Dammit!”

“Your favorite type, I note.” Henri deadpanned.

The mare turned to stare at her. She had bloodshot eyes that indicated she had been crying. “Of course fucking damn it. Most think they know me but who the living hells are you?!”

“Henrietta Firebright,” Henri introduced herself. “Or Henri for short. Your choice.”

The white mare’s hoof turned into fingers offering them to shake. “Blackjack, or as most call me the maiden of the stars or that bitch that kills you.”

“Thought it was Security?” Henri asked, taking the hand and shaking it. She noted how… odd it felt to be shaking the ‘hand’ of a pony.

“Eh, whatever. I’m a failure I lose the one I love. I get blown up, and I get these. Oh, my life is so wonderful, isn’t it? Also you said your name is Firebright, didn’t you? Does that mean the wonderful juice between your legs is fire?”

Henri actually burst out laughing at that. “Yep, it’s definitely you Security. Still, some class we keep. I mean, I’m a shitty sister, and you’re a shitty mare in general.” she chuckled bitterly.

Blackjack just stared at her drink. It didn’t hit her at first, of course, slow as she was. Never said she was a smart pony, Henri remembered about Blackjack. “Oh! We are the same, never thought I’d say that. For a griffin, though I oddly find you impressive. I don’t normally feel like this towards a griffin, maybe it’s the whiskey...”

“Puh, I doubt that. I know you’d sleep with anything and everything that moves!” Henri snarked, playing a decidedly dangerous game.

“Well with how life is... It’s hellish enough not to sleep with everything. It helps you forget…” She looked at the whiskey. “Like this whiskey it makes me forget the… nightmares.”

“Believe me,” Henri muttered as she poured herself another shot. “If it were only so easy to just forget how you got your little sister killed, but for me… I suppose it’s for the best eh? Puppy wouldn’t want me drinking her memory away and making myself more of a terrible sister to her than I was already…”

“No pony is terrible unless they make themselves that way. I… made myself that way. I hurt Glory... I broke her heart...” Her voice sounded so empty, so… hollow. “I ruined my chances with her... I hurt every pony I met...” The white mare grew angrier tossing the shot glass on the ground. “Give me a fucking another one!!” She demanded slamming her metal hoof on the bar.

“No, you’ve had enough.” the bartender said in return. Big mistake. Blackjack actually lunged across the countertop and grabbed the bartender by the scruff of his shirt.

“When I ask for more, you give me motherfucking more!!” She screamed at the stallion, only for Henri to pull her back.

“Hey, you want to get thrown out, be my guest. Shame, it’d ruin that nice ass of yours if you got tossed out onto it…” Henri deadpanned, not believing what she just said, a blush gracing the sides of her facial feathers.

Blackjack dropped the stallion. Then helped him back on his hooves. “Sorry um... Whiskey gets to me.” She gets back over the bar. “You said what about my ass Griffin?”

“I said… it’s a nice one…” Henri mumbled.

Blackjack shrugs wrapping her metal hooves around the poor Griffin kissing her on the beak deeply. Henri let out a moan, surprising even herself as she let Blackjack’s tongue in.

She then broke the kiss tossing Henri on her ass. “Huh not bad...” she mused.

“Oh…” Henri groaned out in pain. “So that’s the way you want to play it?” she smirked, before tackling Blackjack to the floor and kissing her passionately.

Blackjack, of course, didn’t seem very surprised at this. She seemed rather used to it. (Big shocker to Henri) Her strange fingers glided on the back of the Griffin to add to the pleasure they felt. Henri than began nibbling at Blackjack’s neck with her beak, just as she found herself teleported to the inside of a graffiti-covered bathroom stall.

“Beak rhymes with freak for a reason, you know…” Henri mused. Blackjack only smiled at that.

“Hmm I love freaks. They make the sex more wonderful...” She purred softly. Henri smiled.

“Then, let’s get to it…” she growled out.

The white mare wrapped her hooves around Henri pulling her again into a deep kiss. Her hooves sliding along the Griffin. Her cheeks bright red not only from being drunk but also the heat of the pleasure coming off her body.

“Bitch is back, but in a good way I think…” Henri purred out her kissing starting to go lower and lower.

The white mare let out some deep pleasured moans as Henri licked the rims of her marehood. The fact that she could feel at all impressed the griffin. From how she was talked about of course being a heartless bitch. Blackjack’s moans continued to grow ever louder as Herni continued, and the stall shook a little as Blackjack shoved Henri up against a wall, before finally she released her load. Blackjack was quite keen to return the favor.

Eventually, panting and sweating and covered in their own juices, Henri and her newfound partner broke away from each other.

“Best… Best sex I ever had.” Henri panted out, and Blackjack could only laugh bitterly.

“Wow, you must have reeeeeeaallly low standards in mares.” she drawled out.

“How… how do you justify it all?” Henri had to ask. “ I mean, the death, and all the killing. It was easy when I was a mercenary, just doing what I was paid to do, but now…?”

“Sometimes I can’t. But I promised myself I would keep going... Like the Dealer told me to. I feel someday I will find the hell that will take me. But I justify it by doing what I feel I must for Equestria. Even though I don’t feel like a hero...” She softly said.

“Never said there was such a thing as a hero. Hell, I sure as hell never felt like I one, even when I let her go. Just let her get the eternal rest she needed…” Henri sniffled, thinking back to Puppysmiles.

Blackjack held Henri’s face staring into her eyes, finally remembering Henri’s name and where she’d heard it before. “You did what you had to... Henri. I heard the story of Puppysmiles from Watcher. The innocence she carried, and the fact a filly could live that long. Well, maybe not live but you know what I mean. Just to search for her mother. You did the right thing. You listen to me, don’t you ever fail like me. Don’t keep falling into this hole I’m making for myself. Someday soon, I will be asked to answer for my crimes. You can escape...“

Henri’s mind zapped itself back to reality with another press of the trigger, and another Enclave soldier turned to ash. “But I haven’t escaped, have I? Not yet… Here I am, with another filly under my charge all over again, and putting her in more danger than any child has a right to be.”

As she pulled out Black Rose and White Rose, shooting two soldiers in the head, Henri growled. She’d be damned if she let this filly die while under her watch. She turned her thoughts to Twilight, wondering what would happen if she did go insane, she was that dangerous. Nobody in their party could stop her really. Same went for the rest of her party really, the war turned ponies into different ones entirely than from when they started. History taught her that much.

“Hey, I'm the only gal in the room who doesn't have super magical powers or some sort of ace ability, and let me tell you: you guys scare me. What if you do decide to go and face off against the Enclave, taking care of whoever you think is guilty? Stormy’s charismatic, we know that much, but he’s also completely insane. How do we know some of the ponies working for him aren’t working for him out of sheer fear? Who could stop you if you did decide to go rogue? Me? Look, I'm an old lefty. The government must do for the ponies what ponies can't do for themselves. The NCR sure can't protect themselves from the likes of you guys. Trouble is, eye for an eye, everyone always ends up blind I find…” she’d told Twilight shortly before leaving, and partially, perhaps that was why she was so eager to leave this island, perhaps to leave Twilight and Nimbus to die. Ponies like them, so quick on the trigger as it were and remarkably dangerous leaving little room to trust, they honestly scared her.

Back with Nimbus, he’d set himself up in a good position, and looked through the scope, forms of Enclave soldiers coming up green. Only eight shots, but he could make do. That’s what the Trottingham borne or Trottingham descended did, they just carried on.

He watched as the barely visible forms of Midnight and Riptalon began taking out Enclave soldiers, as Twilight flew above everyone, and fired spell after spell into the cannon’s armor, before lighting up her horn and creating a huge purple blade to cleave the cannon right down the middle. Then it all went sour, a soldier got out a high-powered energy rifle Nimbus knew at once to be a SOAR, and fired it at Riptalon and Midnight, exposing them to the world as it ran amuck with the Stealthbuck’s features, shorting it out for the time period. As if to make matters worse, a lucky shot from a Star Blaster sent Twilight plummeting towards the ground, and she hit with a loud thud, sending her into unconsciousness almost in an instant.

Nimbus swore quietly, and emptied his current ammo, firing four quick shots into four various soldiers. One, the one with the SOAR, and the second with the Star Blaster who’d downed Twilight. Observe. Prioritize, Analyze, React. That was how Nimbus’s internal thought processes often went in the midst of battle. Observe every threat, prioritize the most dangerous to least dangerous, analyze how to deal with them, and then react.

As the gunfire pounded in Nimbus’ eardrums, sniper shots ringing out and small explosions from Riptalon’s grenades making a barrage of noise and chaos all around him, the sniper tried to recenter his focus, and calm himself. It wouldn’t do anyone (Except perhaps the Enclave) any good for him to lose it now. Slowing his breathing, he ran behind a boulder, and reloaded his last cartridge of ammo into End of the Line just as a shot from a Novasurge Rifle flew by his head, barely missing him by an inch.

“Just four shots left, and in this sort of a bedlam, not going to be enough…” Nimbus thought to himself, with a grimace. “Going to have to make them count…”

He took a small glance towards his left, and saw the fallen Enclave soldier Riptalon had strangled, Novasurge rifle lying beside him. He smiled devilishly to himself, that could come in handy.

But for now, Nimbus mused to himself as he peeked out from behind a boulder and got his sights back in, peering through the scope of his rifle and aiming at a soldier, this would have to do. His eyes narrowed quite considerably, and he let out a small little protective growl as he saw this same soldier about to knife Riptalon in the back.

“Not going to happen… bastard.” Nimbus thought.

He let the shot fly, (Feeling as if he was punched very hard in the shoulder by a power armored warrior) and the next thing Riptalon heard was a loud bang, and felt the brushing of air as the bullet whizzed on by his head. He quickly turned, and saw blood and brain matter shoot out the other end of a nearby soldier’s head and helmet.

Riptalon’s eyes widened as he realized just how close to that soldier was to knifing him in the back, and mentally thanked Nimbus. Riptalon let out a little laugh. Never thought he’d be doing that twice in the same day.

Nimbus was ready to fire off another shot, before he heard the crunching of hooves against rock and dirt, and he turned whipping out his borrowed combat knife and finding himself face to face with Stormy Skies himself.

“See you haven’t changed a bit,” Stormy said in his aged voice. “Always making trouble where you’re not wanted, and openly defiant of the Enclave’s laws. The archangel, she showed me the true path, and I asked: “Why do you show this to me, archangel? I'm not a strong man. I'm not a righteous man.”

“You’re damn well right about that…” Nimbus muttered, his comment going ignored as Stormy continued his preaching. Because really, what else could you call it?

“I am not a holy man.” (Nimbus scoffed at this) And she told me the most remarkable thing: “You're right, Prophet. But if grace is within the grasp of one such as you, how can anyone else not see it in themselves? When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory. One stallion goes into the waters of baptism. An entirely different buck comes out, born again. But who is that man who lies submerged? Perhaps that swimmer is both sinner and saint, until he is revealed unto the eyes of the world.”

“You going to continue that blabbering horseshit of yours, or do I have to shove a bible up your arse to keep it from talking?” Nimbus growled out, the firefight below forgotten. “I see you haven’t changed either. Still the same nonsense spouting lunatic you always were...”

“Oh, but I have changed… For the better, I might add.” Stormy replied, and for the first time, Nimbus noticed a long horn, protruding from Stormy’s skull like a lance or a jousting spear. Stormy’s great black wings had expanded as well, and he bore a much higher stature than before. His eyes widened, since when was Stormy an Alicorn? This changed the danger level he posed, considerably. Before, he was just a lunatic with a few followers that could be dealt with quick enough if everypony’s attentions were focused on him, but now…

In a reflex, Nimbus, he threw his knife right through Stormy, not even thinking he could probably throw up a shield. But I said, right through Stormy. Not even hitting flesh and bone.

“What the Hell…?” Nimbus whispered, quickly realizing Stormy wasn’t even here, he was just talking to a projection of some sort. Damn Alicorns.

“Oh, you can thank IMP for this. That cult who worships their false goddess, so helpful…” Stormy smirked. It didn’t take long for Nimbus to put the pieces together. He’d heard about a Nightmare Moon worshipping cult several times, some on the radio, and other times from random mutterings under her breath by Henri. And he remembered how Alicorns were made, with the substance known as IMP or the Impelled Metamorphosis Potion.

“You’re mad…” Nimbus muttered. Then again, Stormy, as the pegasus had already figured out long ago was mad. And a complete egomaniac. Nimbus, he’d visited Stormy’s church back in Coltumbia, and it was like a personal shrine to himself.

Celestia above, he remembered it all too well. First thing you noticed was all the dimly lit candles everywhere as you strode through pools of water with lotus blossoms floating about to create a state of calm and tranquil bliss. Of course, then there was the gilded gold statues of famous pegasi like Firefly, Flash Magnus and more recently, Spitfire with the old hymns being sung coming from seemingly all around you thanks to how the church was built.

And then there were Stormy’s monuments to himself. Oh Celestia, they took the cake. Painted portraits of him rising above a sea of chaotic pegasi, and seemingly guiding the Enclave to a state of tranquility, when the reality was anything but. He seemed personally blind to everything that went on around him, and how much everypony who wasn’t one of his little stupidass followers hated him.

“Oh, they were in a spot of trouble, so I decided to strike a deal like the good buck I am. Help them, and they’d help me. Scratch their back, and they’d scratch mine. Both of our forces are on the outs, so we thought we’d join up,” Stormy explained. Nimbus almost burst out laughing at this. Stormy was so stupid he couldn’t see just what kind of personal suicide he was committing. The Nightmare Cult was dangerous, that was for sure, given that they were alicorns. Soon as Stormy tried something, he was probably getting impaled right through the heart by the cult’s followers. (If Nimbus was to be honest, he’d probably thank them for doing the deed, right before shooting them of course.)

“Right, and you’ll betray them at the first possible opportunity once their usefulness is ended, as I know how much you love lesser species,” Nimbus replied sarcastically.

“Okay, of course, I’m going to deal with them. There’s only room for one power in the land, and it isn’t a group of mutated freaks who worship the dark god Nightmare Moon. Honestly, they should be paying me more for my protection… Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? When thou seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?”

Ignoring the psalm as he knew Stormy was about as likely to follow it as everyone was about as likely to start loving him, Nimbus scoffed. “Protection, that’s a laugh, considering what you just said! Besides, the government isn't the mob.” he laughed sarcastically, long and loud at the utter joke of it all and the nonsense Stormy was spouting.

“Really? Pay them every year to protect you, and Celestia help you if you don't. Isn’t that the way the Enclave and the NCR work?” Stormy asked.

“You’re so paranoid…” Nimbus muttered. “Here’s a better psalm for you, one that I think we should all pay attention to: “Distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality.”

Predictably, that last bit was completely ignored.

“Have to be, only way to survive anymore. Paranoid? Probably. But just because you're paranoid doesn't mean there isn't an invisible demon about to eat your face.” Stormy replied. “You would know, isn’t that right… son?”

Personally, Nimbus didn’t know if Stormy meant calling him his son as some sort of religious bullshit thought up by the stallion when he started thinking himself as everypony’s savior, or if he actually believed Nimbus was his own child. Either way, Nimbus couldn’t give a damn. He sure as hell wasn’t related to this loon, and that was the end of it. Completely ignoring Stormy calling him his child, he fired back a retort of his own.

“Ponies that have trust issues only need to look in the mirror. There they will meet the one person that will betray them the most.” Nimbus shot back.

Stormy, much to Nimbus’ smug satisfaction, didn’t say much for a few minutes after that. Nimbus continued deconstructing Stormy’s entire ideology.

“Us ponies, we’re not the little blind worshippers to your ‘greatness’ that you like to think we are. Yeah, sure a slave obeys... But a pony, he chooses.” Nimbus smirked, although that was soon to fade. As ever, Stormy had some sort of comeback to that little remark. And as ever, it was completely insane. In hindsight, Nimbus really shouldn’t have been all that surprised.

“Then you’re just blighted cattle, and like all cattle with a blight, you must be… culled, Morningstar.” Stormy said giving him the nickname of Celestia’s lover, and the current ruler of Tartarus.

“What came first Stormy, your insanity upon thinking Celestia graced you, or everyone hating you and wanting you dead? The griffon, or the egg?” Nimbus asked with a smirk. Stormy growled and sputtered out a few words, unable to form a coherent sentence, before vanishing in a flash of gold light.

Nimbus actually chuckled at that. Nimbus ‘Morningstar’ Breaker. He could learn to live with that. Sometimes, he wondered, if he’d grown up in a completely different environment, would he still be the same as he was?

Tabula Rasa, the theory was called, or Blank Slate in regular Equestrian. The theory, it referred to the epistemological idea that individuals are born without built-in mental content and that therefore all knowledge comes from experience gathered over their lifetime or their own perception. Anyone who was a supporter of this theory generally disagreed with the idea that the mind was already in possession of certain aspects of knowledge. They also favoured, more often than not the "nurture" side of the classic and still ongoing nature versus nurture debate when it comes to aspects of one's personality, social and emotional behavior. Personally, Nimbus didn’t really care for psychology really.

But he did know one thing, it was most likely, that in whatever universe, Stormy Skies would always be Stormy Skies, just as A would always be A. To quote something he heard Winter Breeze spout off once: Everything that existed has a specific nature. Each entity exists as something in particular and has characteristics that are part of what it is. So in short, despite constants and variables in the multiverse theory he’d heard about, some things would never change no matter where you went.

“Ugh, think any more on that, and my brain would probably melt... “ Nimbus thought, as he grabbed the Novasurge rifle, and lined up his next shot.

Down below, Riptalon and Midnight were fighting back to back, lighting up the battlefield with weapons fire, and using the S.A.T.S in their Pipbucks to their best effects, finding weak spots in armor, and blasting holes open in them. Soon, a pathway was cleared, and they rushed inside the massive structure in front of them, shooting down any more soldiers foolish enough to get in their way. Eventually, they arrived in a large central circular shaped room, a glowing power core a few feet beyond them.

“Well, time for plan B…” Riptalon muttered nervously, taking out a few detpacks from his jacket. Midnight stared at him.

“Do I even want to know why you’re a walking explosive hazard?” Midnight asked.

“Never hurts to come prepared, I say,” Riptalon remarked. “Besides, should you really be complaining at this juncture?” he asked. Midnight was forced to concede his point.

“Fair enough…” he admitted. “So, what’s the plan, assuming this doesn’t get us both killed in the process?”

Tossing one of the detpacks to Midnight, Riptalon replied: “Line these up on each of the load bearing beams, and I’ll put some around the power core. Now once these are armed, we have about three minutes before the whole place comes down around on top of us, maybe less.”

“So, no pressure…” Midnight joked weakly.

“Just shut up, and get to work.” Riptalon snapped. Fairly soon, about half of the detpacks were placed around the room, and that’s when the trouble began as a fairly large platoon of Enclave soldiers burst in, armed to the tooth.

“I thought Nimbus was supposed to be giving us covering fire!” Midnight shouted.

“He’s only one pony, not an entire army as much as I’d like him to be right now…” Riptalon muttered, pulling out Lawgiver.

“Guess we’ll have to substitute. Won’t he be pleased when I tell him I took down a whole hoard of Enclave soldiers?” Midnight joked as he went for his rifle. And soon, the firefight began, the two dodging and weaving between the crimson-orange plasma shots, every so often using the other as covering fire as they laid down detpacks on support beams.

It became a blur of ashes and blood in both’s eyes, as the two worked together in tandem -A perfect harmony and synchronicity- and quickly learning each other’s maneuvers to take down whatever soldier was in front of the other at the time. Whatever Riptalon did, Midnight mirrored and vice versa. Back to back, they stood against the approaching hoard that seemed to have no end in sight.

But still, the reinforcements came, and Riptalon knew they couldn’t hold out much longer, even as he reloaded Lawgiver for the next wave. So it seemed, all forces on the island had come out to play, popping out of the woodworks whenever prompted.

As they took cover behind a set of metal crates, Midnight looked at Riptalon.

“You go on ahead, I’ll give you the best covering fire I can. Blow this place sky-high!” Midnight stated sternly.

“But… But they’ll kill you! You can’t possibly hold them all off!” Riptalon snapped back.

“I know that, but I’ll buy you time. And hey, you wanted to fight alongside me one day, didn’t you? Just be proud that the day you did, you saw me at my best.”

“Yeah… that I did…” Riptalon muttered, and without thinking, lunged forwards and kissed Midnight passionately. The younger pony moaned as he let his tongue slip into Riptalon’s mouth briefly wrapping his forelegs around him, before pulling away.

“What… what’d you do that for?” Midnight asked in surprise.

“Please, young buck like you? Always worrying about killing me, and the war? Bet you never had time to consider dating. Making it up to you, just a little,” Riptalon smiled sadly. “Now go get ‘em. Shinu mae no meiyo, right? Honor before death?”

Midnight nodded, and pulled out his rifle and let the shots fly even as Riptalon ran for the power core, the griffon never looking back not wanting to see what happened next. He shut his eyes tightly, fighting back tears as he heard the scream.

“Alright you bastards, now you’re really asking for it…” Riptalon thought to himself, rage and fury filling him as he set a few detpacks on the power core, and primed them before running for it down a hallway towards a side exit. A few Enclave soldiers got in his way, but were blasted to bloody chunks by point-blank blasts from Lawgiver.

Hard Law, but the Law indeed.

Eventually, he made it out just in time to watch the fireworks go down, or up to be more accurate.

Riptalon smiled in grim satisfaction as he saw the anti-air cannon go up in flowers of red and orange fire, but his eyes widened as he saw a steel girder come flying right towards him, launched by the force of the explosions. He braced himself for death, but it never came as a blast of purple magic cleaved it in half right down the middle. He looked up, and saw Twilight standing right next to him, horn alight and a furious expression cast upon her muzzle. She’d felt Midnight’s signature vanish as soon as she woke up from her quick nap, and now she wanted blood. Perhaps Henri was right about her, she mused, she was nothing but a madmare who would turn on anyone at the worst possible moment and nopony could stop her if she did. But Twilight fought back her urges, revenge would solve nothing, it wouldn’t bring Midnight back. It wouldn’t bring any of her friends back.

“Thank… thank you.” Riptalon whispered to the former Princess of Friendship. He fought back the urge to actually bow at her, realizing for the first time just how powerful of a force she was to them, and if properly swayed, could be a major player and gamechanger in the war. That was, if they got out of this little situation first.

“Not out of the woods yet. Fact is, I’d say we only reached a small clearing and ran right through it back into the Manticore’s maw.” she replied, as Nimbus joined them (Sliding down the hillside) just in time for them to get all ready for battle as what was left of the Enclave recovered from their shock and horror and armed themselves.

As Twilight, Riptalon and Nimbus stood their ground, waiting for what came next, they were surprised when they heard the whir of a turbine engine, and saw what remained of the Enclave forces being cut to bloody ribbons by a minigun as the distinctive shape of a Dust Devil rose over the horizon.

Nimbus smiled as he saw Henri at the controls. “I knew she’d come…” he thought.

“I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has had to overcome while trying to succeed.” -Booker Washington

Author's Notes:

And so we come to the end of this arc at last. Hooray. Okay... So, ah, yes. Midnight's death scene. Honestly, I really was running out of ideas on what to do with him, character-wise, so I figured the best course of action was to just... let him go. I did get permission from his creator to do this, with a proviso, namely that he went out in a way that was memorable and not just a shocking moment that comes out of the blue like Steelhooves' death. Also... Ah, yes, Henri and Blackjack's (Credit to the latter goes to Somber, and his story Project Horizons.) sex scene. I did have to get a little help with this, along with asking Mimezinga's permission for obvious reasons. So, thank you Megaskullmon.

Also, thank you Ruinqueen for writing up the small little transmission that dealt with the Steathbucks' presence on the island, and explaining how they're used and how to disable them.

Funny little side note, I built this whole chapter around Stormy and Nimbus's little verbal pissing match, and just worked from there. Actually on that, Stormy's new nickname. Originally, it was going to be the Deathbringer, but I decided that was a bit too on the nose as it were, and then I remembered Morningstar, which given how Stormy thinks himself as a god, I thought was very meaningful given Morningstar is one of the Devil's names believe it or not. (Plus, it allowed me to make reference to one of Ruinqueen's stories.)

Anyways, as ever, comments, thoughts, and constructive critique are always welcomed.