With great zeal I pulled back the walls of this cage in which time had sought to bind me, for this would be the day of reckoning. The meddler’s barrier that had vexed me for so long was failing, withering away while we Dragons had remained patient. All that would be needed now, was a few loyal pawns.

~ Valkris

/ / / The Citadel / / /

“So be it,” Amethyst whispered as the others around him rushed forward.

With that single act, the room exploded into chaos. Daggers, bolts of magic, and arrows filled the air, striking shields or dashing against walls as bodies charged one another. Blades sang, shields rang, and armor clanged out in protest as its steel was tested.

Charging quickly the Griffons closed the distance, blades flashing in the light of discharged spells. The chamber filled with the uproar of swords as they met each other for the first time, howling for the taste of visceral fluid.

Phalyndil roared as he smashed into the line of defenders, the sound unreserved and primal as he swung for an exposed neck. His blade permanently grounded the unfortunate Pegasus in a single stroke, the spray of blood still in the air as he spun to face the next creature luckless enough to bar his path.

The next Knight his eyes spied was a Donkey, battling with nothing but its hooves and, to Phalyndil’s great pleasure, completely distracted. Before another thought could slow him the Griffon’s blade flashed forward, hungry, eager for the kill.

Too eager, Phalyndil realized as he caught motion to his side, changing the angle of his swing just in time to save his own skin. Switching his stance he lept back as his blade met with another, the weapons screaming off each other in a spray of sparks. The vibrations rattling through his wrist an intimate and painful reminder to Phalyndil of just how much force a telekinetic could exude.

“You!” Phalyndil growled dangerously as he was forced to take another step away from his would be victim. The smaller donkey continued his own fight as Sombra moved between them, his blade floating in his magical aura as it twirled through the air a few times, beckoning the Griffon to a duel.

Phalyndil was all too happy to oblige him, darting forward and slamming his blade against his opponent’s. With his free hand he took a vicious swipe at the stallion’s face, hoping to blind him and end this farce as quickly as possible.

The pony had other plans it seemed, as the talons came down he merely stepped from behind his floating blade, throwing the burly Griffon off balance as the attack met nothing but air. Sensing his chance the stallion added force behind his weapon, pushing the stumbling bird over as he went by.

Phalyndil was no fool however; he knew the motions that often followed such attacks. Instead of resisting the fall he pushed into it, going down into a dive and rolling under the horizontal cut that would have cleaved his skull. Jumping up from his roll Phalyndil spun to face his enemy once more, and immediately wished he had not…

Instead of charging in with his blade drawn, the Unicorn stood with his hooves firmly planted in a solid stance. His weapon floated by his side as he chanted something quietly under his breath. More worrisome, however, was the sphere of glowing red energy crackling just above the tip of his horn…

Phalyndil’s life flashed before his eyes, right before the ball of light slammed into his chest. The boiling mass of red hot energy splashed over his body, burning away at his cloak and feathers as it hurled him across the room. It smashed him against a pillar where the Griffon crumpled to a burning heap on the floor, unconscious…

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

Shindrah snarled as she thrust forward once more with her halberd. The deadly pike at the end again met nothing but air as her opponent simply spun out of the way in a seemingly lazy manner, his hooves always two steps ahead of her paws.

As if missing her mark was not insult enough, as she pulled her weapon back the elderly stallion leaned forward inside her reach again. His hoof followed mere inches above the instrument of death, to teasingly bop her on the beak, again.

Deciding instead on a change of tactics Shindrah reversed her grip on the weapon in her talons, pulling it sideways as she leaned her shoulder into the attack. This extended her range in an effort to sweep the stallion’s legs out from under him. It worked, to an extent…

Amethyst Song, in a moment of agility that left the young Griffoness astounded, considering the bloodied bandage covering one shoulder, allowed his legs to buckle, before simply falling over her weapon. As the shaft of the spear traveled under his body a foreleg reached out and pushed off the ground, flipping his light elderly frame over and landing him beside his dance partner.

Bop…

With a squawk of surprise, Shindrah flared her wings. She fluttered backwards away from her opponent to gain some spacing. It was impossible, how could such an old pony be so nimble, especially considering such wounds. Her first few challengers had gone down nearly disappointingly easily. This one though, he was different, cunning and skilled, the challenge excited her.

It was in that moment that an explosion echoed around the room, drawing Shindrah’s attention just in time to witness Phalyndil sail over her head and crash into one of the pillars. His smoldering body crumpling to the ground in a heap, what remained of his cloak burning away at his feathers.

Shindrah knew that Phalyndil needed help, though seeing their leader hurt had spurred the others on to fight harder, she was still the closest one. Shindrah also knew that there was still at least one obstacle standing in her way, the maddening old stallion whom had stood by patiently waiting for her to make the next move.

She was about to attempt a different stratagem when the pony frowned, his form seemed to shimmer and swim like a mirage for a moment before simply vanishing into thin air, leaving not a trace of himself to be found. Convenient, if not maddeningly confusing.

The apparating stallion would have to wait, their leader needed her! Master’s plans could not be left to fall into jeopardy, not when they were so close. Steeling her resolve, Shindrah charged back into the fray, making all haste to her gallant leader’s aid, prepared to slay any in her path…

/ / / / / /

It did not hurt, he was on fire and it did not hurt. His cloak, the very leather belting of his scabbards, they were aflame, yet he did not burn. What fresh madness was this that he could be consumed by fire, and not be condemned to an agonizing death? These were Phalyndil’s only coherent thoughts before the darkness took him once more…

/ / / / / /

Shindrah skewered the troublesome Caribou before kicking the weakling’s corpse aside, she had no time to grant such bold prey an honorable death. Every second she wasted was another Phalyndil did not have!

Flaring her wings the Griffon soared over the heads of two more would be challengers, piercing the neck of one with the deadly pike and swinging the body into its colleague. The pair had barely hit the ground before Shindrah landed beside her own fallen comrade.

Skidding to a halt and dropping her weapon Shindrah tore off her own cloak. The tattered old garment soaked with the blood of her kills sizzled and smoked as she thrust it over her commander, vigorously dragging it over the flames to smother them.

As the last of the fire fell to her assault Shindrah quickly tore the remnants of Phalyndil’s cloak from his body. She was shocked to find that, aside from a few charred feathers, he was mostly unharmed…

/ / / / / /

Phalyndil choked on a lung full of smoke as someone rudely began shaking him, didn’t they know who he was? What could possibly be so important as to merit such treatment?

Then he remembered where he was, and how he had come to be here. Then he heard the voice, a familiar voice trying to rouse him. Next he heard the sounds of battle and his heart began to beat a few ticks faster.

In a sudden coughing fit Phalyndil rose to a seated position. He was secretly grateful of the hand supporting his back as he spat the last of the ash filled air from his throat, his chest heaving from the exertion. His throat burned from the effort of hacking up the dry irritants that were intent on sticking to him.

Master’s creations had saved him yet again, Phalyndil realized as he examined himself. The revelation brought great shame upon him, in truth, he had his doubts when Master had told them of the things his armor would save them from. Now it seemed, not even the power of these sages could harm him so easily.

Having been concealed away beneath his cloak the silvery armor was now open to the world, daring any to test its strength. He could not help but marvel for a moment at the runes carefully carved into every plate, the way the pale light of the chamber danced across the surface. It was perfection in his eyes and reminded him why he was here.

It was at this moment of self reflection a third Griffon arrived to provide aid. A young male to which Phalyndil noticed bore a worried expression, something he found ill suited to one under his command.

“We have successfully pushed through the Knights and have re-gained control of the exit. Although the path to our goal remains hidden from sight,” the newcomer reported grimly. His constitution was clearly being tested by the circumstances.

“We must keep fighting,” Phalyndil said stoically. He retrieved his sword from where it had landed before forcing himself to stand and take charge of the situation. “We must be ready for Master’s arrival! Slay them all!” He bellowed.

That is when the hammer came down.

A literal ton of stone wrapped in glowing bands of golden metal crushed the life from the younger Griffon right before Phalyndil’s eyes. It pulped the hapless creature against the cold floor in a burst of translucent blue energy that exploded outwards from the head of the great bludgeoning instrument, spraying gore in a wide arc. Phalyndil had just enough time to close his eyes before the force of the energy hurled him back, rag-dolling him across the floor.

The two surviving Griffons smashed into the wall and slid to the ground, dazed and bruised, but alive. Wiping his face free of his subordinate Phalyndil glared up at the one responsible for ending the life of such a promising flock mate, the feathers around his neck fluffing in alarm at what he saw...

/ / / / / /

Shindrah groggily opened her eyes, the room spinning as she took in the sight that greeted her only to find something completely unexpected. A Minotaur! A large, angry, Minotaur. To make things worse, the towering brute was already charging back towards them, hammer held high and still dripping with the remains of their fallen brethren.

Not wanting to be next Shindrah instinctively reached for her halberd, only to find it missing. Thrown clear by the blast no doubt and nowhere to be seen. She could go for her crossbow, the weapon was still firmly secured on her back with two shots left. Too bad she would be dead before she could bring it to bear.

That is when Phalyndil leaned forward from where he lay against the wall, hurling his trusty blade for all he was worth, sinking its length into one of the rushing bull’s bulging pectorals. The beast howled as it missed a step, slowed but kept on charging. The damage having about as much effect as stabbing a bear in the ass with a dagger.

Shindrah knew that Phalyndil’s actions would not have saved them, but she also knew that he would have known that as well. It was up to her now, his actions had bought her the precious seconds she needed. The bow was in her talons, primed and ready. The brute was upon them, the hammer speeding towards them both. She pulled the trigger…

/ / / / / /

Phalyndil ducked as the hammer came down, remembering vividly the sounds of his own ward's bones shattering. All he could hear in that moment however was the pained howl of the Minotaur as its head snapped back, Shindrah’s crossbow bolt lodged clean through its muscled neck.

The towering beast continued its howl as the hammer swung wide and impacted the wall just over the Griffon’s heads, shattering through the reflective material with ease and a heartbeat later the stumbling Minotaur followed suit. It may have seemed like an act of providence, if the creature’s bulk had not driven the pair of his unfortunate opponents through the hole as well…

/ / / / / /

Amethyst ducked under the swing of yet another Griffon as the avian attempted to stab him. To little effect, as the impossibly nimble pony weaved around the expertly driven blow that surely should have been his end.

Undaunted by the Griffons swordsmanship, Amethyst darted in once more. This time casually catching the Griffon’s cloak and dragging it up over the hawk's face and snagging the end over his beak. Satisfied that this would hold the unruly creature long enough Amethyst glanced about before quickly spotting another of his family in trouble and, with a blink through the ether, he was gone again…

/ / / / / /

Phalyndil was getting very tired of waking up this way, having to chase the cobwebs from his senses as he awoke on the floor yet again, only to find the hulking figure of the Minotaur doing the same. The handle of its giant hammer was still loosely grasped in its left hand. In mere seconds it would be on them again, and he held no weapons save for a small hunting knife.

Quick as a flash his eyes scanned the darkened chamber into which they had been thrown, though hurled may have been the more appropriate word, but here they lay nonetheless. As Phalyndil rolled over to see behind him he finally caught sight of their salvation. Stairs, and at their base, Shindrah’s crossbow! If he could get there, they had a chance.

Getting his legs under him Phalyndil spread his sore wings, whispering a thanks to Master they weren’t broken after such rough treatment. He leapt into the air but was unceremoniously yanked back down by the tail for his troubles. The tug on him sending an unpleasant shock up his spine as his ligaments were tested.

With his limb firmly held in one hand, and its hammer now firmly grasped in the other the Minotaur leered down at the trapped Griffin. In its moment of triumph the monster leaned down and roared, spattering bits of spittle and blood over the soon to be loser of their fight.

Phalyndil pulled his face back as far as he could, the smell nearly making him gag as the beast above him continued to postulate in victory. The blow from hitting the ground had knocked the breath from him and pain still lanced up his tail and as if to prove how bad things were for him, the hammer began to rise for the death blow.

Realizing his feeble struggling would get him nowhere, Phalyndil knew he needed to find some other way out of his situation. His eyes traveled again to Shindrah’s crossbow, the Griffoness lying a short distance beyond it. Whether she was unconscious or dead, he could not tell.

Her weapon, that was the key, if he could just get to it he could finish this. An idea formed in his head as Phalyndil braced himself for the pain. Flexing the traumatized muscles in his tail he curled himself up. A taloned hand swiped his father’s hunting knife from its place at his side in a single sweep and plunged it into the hand keeping him trapped. The family heirloom did its job well, slicing deep into the gray skin of the Minotaur.

The creature howled again, dropping its victim and stepping back, the damaged hand oozing blood, two of the fingers limp. Drawing a shaky breath and gurgling on the blood in its throat, the weakening creature turned its fiery gaze back to its opponent with the intent of delivering a final blow. Only to find him already across the room, scooping up his fallen comrade’s weapon.

Phalyndil knew he had no time to lose, the Minotaur recovered fast and was sure to be on him in moments, any mistake now would cost him dearly. Hefting Shindrah’s weapon from where it had fallen he spun, one of his paws already in the coking stirrup as he watched his opponent charge. Seconds away, hammer held so high it nearly brushed the ceiling.

His ears had not even heard the bow string lock into place before the weapon was lifting to his shoulder, talons reaching into a pouch in his armor, where something special resided. A thing passed from Master’s own claws to his, was something truly special, entrusted to him and now would provide the salvation he needed.

With the speed of a practiced marksman Phalyndil laid his last treasure on the bow and slid it into place. The long shard of translucent crystal glowing a soft pink as the energy within it reacted with the crossbow, sensing a target and shimmering with a foreboding gleam.

The Rosea Caligo, Master’s deadliest creation. Phalyndil hoped it lived up to his expectations as he exhaled, steadying his aim. His target was close, so close the light from his own weapon illuminated the beast in an unnervingly hellish glow. The darkness surrounding them only served to deepen the effect, his eyes finding it difficult to track the nearly mirage like movements.

His aim was off, there simply wasn’t time, it was too fast, the hammer was swinging. Death was upon him. He pulled the trigger, hoping against all hope that Master’s claims held true.

His hopes were in vain, the shot was wild. He knew it even as he pulled the trigger, knew it as the shard shot away, its trajectory carrying it on a path that would travel well off to the left, high and wide. He would die here, now, and all would be lost. It was over, despair taking him as he watched his last hope sail along, as the hammer started down.

What transpired next, Phalyndil could not rightly say, it happened so quickly he had trouble seeing it, let alone believing it. As the glowing shard passed by the swinging head of the hammer its glow intensified, flaring like a fire in the night.

Like a thing possessed the shard veered over, diving at the Minotaur. The bolt speared into the creature’s arm, just below the shoulder, piercing deep into the muscle and bone. No sooner had the poor creature realized it had been struck the shard then detonated in a burst of energy that lit up the room, spraying his blood along with chunks of savaged meat and bone. What remained of the Minotaur’s arm flew through the air, landing somewhere far off in the darkness, the dreaded hammer going with it.

Phalyndil remained still, huddling under a wing as he listened to the bloodcurdling howls of pain that echoed off the walls of the dark room. Droplets of hot crimson continued to rain down as the beast fell to its knees, the remaining hand clamped around the smoking hole in its side, bursts of blood squirting between its fingers with every beat of his heart…

/ / / / / /

Sombra smashed his hoof into the side of yet another Griffon’s skull, dazing him long enough to shove him aside. He knew that howl and what it likely meant. If his friend was in trouble, then the Heart was in danger as well, he had to go. Giving the Griffon one last kick for good measure Sombra turned and raced into another corridor…

/ / / / / /

Amethyst watched from across the room as his student charged off alone to secure that which he had protected all of his own life. He knew of Sombra’s skills, but if these warriors were of a caliber capable of taking down Steel Resolve, then perhaps it was time that he stopped wasting his…

/ / / / / /

Leaving the still screaming Minotaur behind Phalyndil quickly ascended the stairs, Shindrah’s crossbow cradled in his arms as he neared the top, his last bolt loaded and ready. He hoped that the Griffoness was alive, but the only way to help any of them now was to accomplish their goal. And the only thing left to do now, was climb to the top of these stairs. Or at least, that is what his exhausted mind had hoped…

Cresting the last step Phalyndil could only grumble out a curse at what he saw, it was the same haggard old sage from earlier; the one Master had warned him to kill first. Of course it was. On instinct he leveled his weapon at the old pony, only stopping himself from pulling the trigger at the memory of how ineffective this tactic had been the first time. And now, he had only one bolt.

“You get around rather quickly, for such an old grazer,” Phalyndil remarked sourly. His patience thinning as he edged closer, hoping words might buy him time to find an angle of attack. “I swear you to be the last one I saw Shindrah battle down below.”

“And you move too quickly,” Amethyst replied from where he sat. His back turned to the Griffon as he watched a large crystal artifact slowly rotating in the air at the room’s center, a thin line of energy shooting up and out through the roof of the spire. “Always in such a hustling bustle, you Griffons. A proud race once.”

He stood then, turning to watch the gradually circling warrior with a surprisingly sad expression. “But now, fallen, pawns to those who cannot let go the wrongs done upon them in the past. Can you not see where this road leads? I beg of you, do not plunge this world back into the darkness that so many generations fought and bled to be rid of, this course of action will bring only ruin to us all.”

“I care not to hear your empty words of warning old one, my life holds only what meaning the Master bestows upon it. If his will should bring about my end, then I welcome it,” Phalyndil snarled back. His pace quickened as he realized what his eyes spotted just behind the pony in his way. It was indeed the Timeless Heart, it must be. Master's instructions flashed across his mind once more,

'Knock the heart from its pulpit, then I shall come.'

“You truly are of the lost flocks then,” Amethyst said sadly, knowing what was to be. He knew that sooner or later, the balance of their world would once again be broken. Though perhaps, not this night…

Phalyndil knew he was running out of time, knew he had to make a move, had to do something! The Heart was the key, Master could not enter this place so long as it remained under the artifact’s protection. He was about to cut his losses and simply make a rush for his prize, it would likely never work, but what choice did he have? Swallowing his doubts he leveled his weapon, aiming for the old pony's chest, then he stopped.

Amethyst stood there, the last thing standing between the world and its damnation, and he was wavering. Small ripples traveled up the length of his body, distorting his image and blurring the air around him. Lifting a leg up the aging stallions stance relaxed, the limb fading before his very eyes.

“I suppose then, that is that, I am out of time.”

The flickering pony staggered slightly, stubbornly taking another step, trying to keep himself between the Griffon and his prize. A stronger jolt of flickering and he sunk to the floor, gasping as he hit the stone. “Too old, used up too many years... Congratulate your master for me, won’t you? Seems he had the patience to outlast me, after all.”

Continuing on past the stricken unicorn Phalyndil approached his goal, the Crystal Heart nearly in his grasp, so close now. It radiated with power, static crawled around the bases of his feathers, the smell of ozone tickled the inside of his nose.

“Tell him yourself,” Phalyndil said with a smile as he reached out, talons nearly touching his prize.

“Stand off heathen!” Sombra shouted as he tackled the Griffon to the side, the pair rolling across the floor in a heap of thrashing limbs. As they continued to flail across the floor Phalyndil’s crossbow was knocked away, skittering over the crystal and out of reach.

As the pair finally came to a stop Sombra managed to get behind the larger Griffon, thrusting a foreleg under the warrior’s throat and pulling his head back. Sombra's floating blade poised at the bird’s neck. “Yield,” he demanded, allowing the tip of his weapon to pierce the Griffon’s skin to emphasize his point.

“Never will I yield to the likes of you!” Was Phalyndil’s immediate retort. He refused to fail after coming so far, his own life be damned! He continued with his struggles, hoping the younger warrior would be intelligent enough to realize what he was doing for her…

She was. Shindrah leapt through the air, her wings giving a single powerful thrust that propelled her past the distracted equines and right into the side of the floating heart. The impact jarred it free of the energy that had held it in place. Most importantly of all, ceasing the beam that fueled the magical barrier that had kept the citadel secure since time immemorial. In that single instant, just like that, it was over. The ancient tower shook as the energy that had cascaded into the sky like a flare disintegrated, the barrier dispersing into the night. A signal to all the world of what had happened.

Shindrah landed in a crumpled heap, screaming as magic coursed over her body, the boundless energy now suddenly with no outlet. Still she would not let go, holding on until at last the artifact grew still, its lustrous color becoming like stone. With one last flicker the Heart's power grew silent, leaving the Knights with naught but horrified stares.

Before either pony could react they were hurled from their hooves as the entire length of the spire jolted beneath them, shuddering under the force of a tremendous impact that scattered the remaining combatants like the toys of a child. Knights and Griffons alike were dashed upon the walls and pillars, a few being forced to flee for their lives as chunks of the crystal ceiling rained down from above.

Sombra shakily began to rise from where he had landed by the stairs, coughing as he attempted to wipe the dust from his eyes. Clouds of dusted crystal fouled the air as the shaking continued, the sounds of cracking crystal vibrated through the entire spire, the tower conducting the sound throughout. Without warning the stairs and wall splintered like so much glass, shattering as something tore its way through.

Summoning what strength he had left Sombra pushed himself up and scrambled back as quickly as his tired legs would carry him, closing his eyes and turning away as the crumbling wall exploded inwards. A claw twice his size pierced the meter of enchanted crystal and pony made wards with the difficulty of peeling an orange.

The claw continued with its incursion, followed immediately by a scaled finger. The offending limb continued until the entire face of the wall met with a similar fate as three more intruders joined the first. The quartet obliterated the stairs, their song the deafening chorus of shattering quartz and confused shouting.

In another violent burst of motion Sombra was nearly thrown to the floor again as the claws suddenly curled in on themselves, gripping at the wall above them, their tips crushing the material that had been sturdy enough to have survived the tests of time. With a monumental heave the clawed hand began to pull upwards, the entire room splintering with cracks. In one fluid motion, the very roof over their heads was torn away. The inky black of the raging night looking down upon them, its gaze filled with fury.

Sombra could only stare in fascinated horror as the top of the great monolith was tossed aside, its undeniable weight made insignificant by the clearly enormous creature that had torn the top from their tower. He stared into the clouds that stormed overhead, watching them move in unnatural ways. He stared into that blackness, this gate to oblivion. He stared, until it deemed him worthy of a glance of its own. Then he knew, that he was already dead.

A single eye, glowing like the fires of Tartarus itself and just as lifeless leered down at the broken stallion. The weight of its gaze told of something ancient, a soul bearing knowledge beyond the comprehension of the squabbling masses it now surveyed. The weight fell over Sombra, feeling as physical as being struck, pushing him down to the still cracking floor. He found himself obeying, having neither the strength left to fight, nor the will to oppose his own weakness. Sombra could merely lie there, and bleed.

In a motion as silent as the creeping twilight, the single arm that had torn apart their sanctuary ventured down once more. Swirling eddies of cloud and snow followed after the limb, as if to guard against prying eyes. The clawed hand descended, the action fluid and graceful as nothing was wasted in its motions. Coming to a stop near the fallen Griffon, the claws unfurled and, gently as a mother lifting her baby from a crib, plucked the injured creature from the floor. The warrior still clutching the stone heart to her chest.

It took nearly everything Sombra had, his reserves waning as he lifted his head to better view the approaching end. He knew what power they faced, what kind of creature had come for them this night. He knew, even as the blackened ash-filled clouds pulled apart, answering to the will of the great eye, parting as the beast moved closer to its trophy. Sombra knew, that a Dragon had destroyed the Knights.

Thunder rolled over what remained of the spire as the head of the leviathan gradually revealed itself, its blackened scales slid from the clouds like oil over water, silent under the winds that had long masked the approaching tempest. Teeth flashed in the light of a distant discharge, the lightning illuminating the immense form from behind, defining its hidden bulk within the clouds. It had to be hundreds of hooves high, maybe a thousand! It was impossible to tell through the squall.

Then, as if answering to a sovereign’s decree, all was silent. The winds abated their new assault upon the citadel’s interior, instead seeking a route which allowed them to flow out and around their Master until such time as their return was beckoned. Neither a flake of snow, nor wisp of cloud dared move within this space; it was calm, almost peaceful in its tranquility.

Sombra lifted a leg, some last vestige of strength compelling him to reach out for the thing that had been entrusted to his care. He reached until a voice echoed across his perceptions, felt as much as heard. Though the dragon’s mouth never moved, the words fell upon every ear. It rolled over his consciousness, unstoppable as the tide, rumbling over every thought.

“Take heed my children, and listen well. The victory you have claimed this day ensures tomorrow's future, a future unhindered by the Fates who set their wills against ours so long ago,” the voice boomed, the crystal structure resonating with every word.

At these words, the face of the dragon drew closer, staring down the fallen ponies as one might an unwelcome insect. “You, live. Take all those you find able, and run. Run to your Alicorn gods, and tell them. Tell them, that the end of Infinity, has come for them all…”

Next Chapter: III: Beginnings of Madness Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 10 Minutes