It was early morning. The air was heavy with a thick milky mist that was like a steamy, opaque mirror. Concealing everything within a few feet and creeping onto the surrounding buildings of the small outpost like an infestation, the substance blending in with the faded walls and rusted iron doors. There was no nook, no cranny that the thin gas did not reach. Even the cloud cover above could not be seen through the bulky clumps of moisture. The only thing that seemed to penetrate the damp bubble of fog were the relaxing jazz tunes belting out of Fear's radio, but even that became muted and gargled once it got far enough.

Fear had no idea how far he'd traveled, only that the mist had gotten worse. But he knew he'd have to set up soon and hope for the best. He knew he'd have to turn off his radio. He swallowed as he made his way off to the side of the main road, his hooves crunching in the packed, desiccated dirt beneath him. It felt so old and dusty under him. Like it would break apart any second. It was so unhealthy. Fear rested his back against a wall, sitting down on his haunches and looking around. He really didn't want to turn off his radio. Maybe just a little while longer?

Time passed and he was given a break. The mist began to melt away as morning broke apart, the moisture settling like an old house late at night. Fear looked down the road the way he'd been going, wondering if he should keep moving or wait here. It was a decision that nagged at him. He felt so anxious, and the radio was still going. What would it be like when it was off? He grit his teeth and rolled his jaw in circles, glancing down with his eyes at the rifle he'd laid on the concrete. His horn lit up as he reached out, flicking the switch on his mother's radio. Immediately the sound cut off like it'd just clipped out of existence. Fear's breathing quickened. His eyes darted from side to side. The saliva dried up from his mouth. Everything became quiet. A palpable silence was all that remained, putting pressure on his bones. A quiet, buzzing tension that made his ears ring. Fear looked this way, that way, then down the road, leaning forward. The vague shadows, the faint outlines, all of it seemed much more pronounced. Every minor shift in the near motionless wasteland felt like an earthquake. As time passed it felt like his blood was boiling. His eyes quivered and his legs tingled. His tail hiked up and he got down onto his belly, sliding his mother off of his back and against the wall. He waited, pulling the Garand around and guiding the butt into the crook of his shoulder, looking through the scope, down the main road leading out of the outpost as the pendant jostled around his neck. The cracked cement under him felt uncomfortable on his limbs, just adding to the displeasure he felt in this situation. He was putting everything into killing this stallion, if he was real. An incredible intensity that settled over him. He was afraid. He knew it was irrational. That he'd come all this way, wait all this time, just for a stallion that might not even exist. His blood boiled with the power of heated nerves at the fact the stallion could just go around him, or could have come from a different side.

The colt was investing so much effort into this one idea, that it would work out. Taking the biggest risk of his life. His ears twitched as even more time passed - all of it going at a snail's pace, the minutes feeling like an eternity, everything in him just wanting it to be over. Whole body flushed with sweltering heat that made him sweat, switching between that and an ice cold that chilled him to the bone, making his body shiver and his teeth chatter, every ten or so minutes. It was becoming unbearable. But still he endured. After all, what would happen if he gave up? What would happen if he did not confront this here and now, if he didn't try?

It took much longer than it should have, and by the time there was a dot on the horizon walking closer, casually, without a care in the world, Fear was on the verge of giving up. Feeling sleepy and occasionally leaning onto his rifle as if he'd pass out any second. But once he saw movement – that slow, nonchalant sway – his eyes peeled back and he focused the scope.

Inky, powder black coat.

Frizzy, electric blue mane. Sticking out of a red bandana.

Flicking that familiar blood-stained knife into the air with telekinesis, causing it to spin. So aloof.

As he came closer Fear recognized that wibbly wobbly clock cutie mark.

Fear's breath hitched in his throat. His eyes going wide, pupils quivering. His jaw hung open, spazzing out like a fish out of water. He couldn't... Couldn't believe it. The memories came flooding back. Being shanked to death, over and over again, new holes being made in his flesh. Bloody slits fit for caps like some kind of jukebox. He felt the burn of every stab, the feeling of blood creeping through his body. The light-headedness. He tried to shake himself out of the paralyzing reverie, using sheer will to shatter through the glass box compressing his body in a compromising position. He ground his teeth together so hard his jaw ached, powering on, every muscle in his body straining from anxiety. Tensed to the max.

Staring down the sight, barrel pointed at the stallion, everything felt suddenly so easy. All he had to do was get over that momentary fright and then it was done. All he had to do was pull that simple little trigger and end this stallion's life before he could do anything terrible. Fear smiled deviously. It was just so... Clear. He felt mellow and loose for a lingering moment. Fear figured he'd go for a chest shot, right in the heart. Make him suffer before he died. Yes, that sounded good. After all, Chrono Corona had probably killed before, so why not? Fear adjusted the rifle by a bit, lined it up, and fired.

BAM!

He missed.

Fear's eyebrows rose. That was strange. He rose his head. The stallion had just completely swerved to the side at the last second, just as he was pulling the trigger. There was no way that was possible. Did he know Fear was there? Well, it didn't matter, there was no way he could repeat that. You can't possibly sense when somepony's going to fire a gun, unless you're me, and Fear knew he was too far away to ever be sensed. Right? Fear adjusted the barrel again, this time aiming for a headshot. His anxiety was picking up again in a wave, slowly rising, threatening to crash against his psyche. Fear swallowed hard and fired.

BAM!

Another miss. His head just tilted to the side, bullet whizzing past like it was nothing.

Fear looked up again. Suddenly that dot was getting a whole lot closer. Way too close for comfort. The colt looked through the scope again. The stallion was charging. Fear panicked, his heart thumping in his chest, beginning to sweat, his hackles rising on end. His breathing came in labored pants. Pupils shrunk to pinpricks. What is going on? What is happening? How!? The stallion had stopped flicking the knife in the air and was now levitating it in a diseased looking etheric aura right next to his own face.

Okay, there's no way he can dodge while he's charging like this. Fear prepared one more shot, down two valuable bullets so far. He fired again. And again missed. The stallion just leaned to one side. Away from the bullet. Barely adjusting his balance to keep himself standing.

Fear fired wildly, blasts of light spilling from the barrel of his rifle like a dragon spitting flames. Cracks echoed in the air. Every bullet was dodged, his shoulder hurt from the recoil. Fear stood up as the stallion got to him. He brought the rifle into the air, narrowly blocking a stab from the knife. His Garand twitched in place as the knife pulled back and was about to stab again. Fear sensed the intent, his eyes going wide as he threw himself to the side just barely, just in time. Every sense in his body quickly grew harried and tickly. His breath caught in his throat. The air quickly became charged with pure magic, seeping from both their horns. Fear's sixth sense went into overdrive over the course of seconds. He wanted to counterattack but the knife swiped horizontally. He reared back onto his hindlegs, barely avoiding it.

“HOW DO I KEEP MISSING!?” Fear's voice was frantic, a rhetorical question he didn't expect a response to.

“You're not like the others. Not quite raider, not quite innocent, and you dodge well.” The voice was calm and concise. Too succinct to be properly equine. And nowhere near civilized.

It was becoming a dance with Fear barely staying on all fours, looking for an opportunity to strike as his hooves waltzed across the ground. He could tell the stallion was trying to drive him into a corner, and Fear reacted to everything with instinct, hardly able to make sure there were no buildings behind him. Fear rolled and tumbled around, bouncing onto his hooves, trying to read the stallion's brain. “WHAT ON EQUUS ARE YOU!?”

No matter how much Chrono moved and spoke, he never ran out of breath, never needed a moment to recharge. He just kept coming, kept swinging. It was unnatural and lethal. “I am a science experiment.” Fear could feel the intent behind those words. To tire him out or get him distracted. He couldn't listen much if at all if he was to keep focusing on the desire to kill him with that knife! “Ministry of Arcane Science. An attempt to cross the flawed destiny-telling powers of the Crystal Heart with a pony.” The knife kept swinging, and Fear was barely staying out of the way, occasionally blocking with his Garand as he got further and further from his gear. “I have been in cryostasis for a long time,” his words came out in a bit of a jumble, trying to distract his opponent by making him think about what he'd just heard. “And I think it is about time I show... Well.” He laughed, sourly. “I, little colt, am what happens when ponies mess with time.”

Fear saw an opening during the laugh and twirled the rifle around, until it was laying point blank against Chrono's body. He didn't hesitate or anything, just firing. Another miss. He was out of the way as soon as it'd happened. Fear's jaw gaped as he brought it around and tried to crack Chrono across the head with the butt of it. Yet the stallion ducked and grabbed it in his telekinesis, using Fear's overreach against him. He wrenched it away from his grip with the sound of straining rope and shattering glass, throwing it off and to the side where it slammed into one of the buildings of the outpost and clattered to the ground. “Now let's see just how long you can last without that rifle.”

How do I beat something this impossible? Every attack I throw at him he just dodges like it's nothing, and- Fear ducked a slash of the knife. It whistled in the air over his head. -and keeps on coming. I have nothing that he can't dodge in my arsenal. Nothing I have can beat this!

Fear heard his mother's voice caressing his mind. When everything seems lost, take stock of all you have and do a brainstorming session. Words Storm had said many times in the past when one of them were stuck in a dire situation.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cq1ZXlaLIcA

As Fear bowed out of the way, wove to the side, and narrowly brushed with death on multiple occasions, he tried to come up with a way out of this mess. He needed something smart, something that Chrono couldn't get away from. His body was becoming sluggish and lethargic, slowly but surely. He knew he couldn't keep up much longer, getting barraged with a cut every some odd seconds. It stung but it was nothing compared to what a full hit would feel like. Reading and writing wouldn't help him right now. What else had Mom taught him? He winced as he avoided a brutal stab, then ducked as the knife tried to cut open his throat, causing him to swallow hard. Chrono was truly the most vicious pony he'd ever met, he would without a doubt kill every single pony in that village without a second thought, without a moment's reprise. He tried not to get distracted but he couldn't help but realize that only a machine gun or something could stop this obstacle.

Panting hard, muscles aching, essentially screaming at him to give him a break or face the consequences of full on collapse, it was taking everything Fear had to stay in the game. Anger and adrenaline being the only things surging through him to keep him going. His sixth sense the sole aspect that was keeping him a step ahead, and even then, Chrono always knew where he was going to move. The whole scenario was an excruciatingly cruel tango between the two of them that was pushing Fear to his limit. A fierce samba of stabs, spins, ducks, leans, and slashes. I am so fucking pissed this guy would consider killing good ponies like Crate and Angel. I can't believe I'd considered doing the same. I was horrible! THIS is the kind of equine that killed my mother, not those innocents! Everything was on the line, the whole village. His journey to find something he'd lost. And he couldn't think of a way out, constantly getting distracted.

Fear, focus! You need a way to stop him from using his magic, right? That's your goal. What do I know about unicorn magic? The memories flashed in his mind. Back and forth motion of magic through the horn. But how would that help? I can overload the thaumic gland! Or crush it or- or something! With raw magic! Fear had his idea. But he needed an opening. Fear banked to the side out of the way of an overhead swing. Chrono had easily ripped the rifle from his grip, so he couldn't do it while his enemy was using magic. I need an opening! Fear stared at Chrono as he kept dodging. I need to stun him!

The gashes were getting deeper, blood trickled from his cuts. It was becoming a race against time. His body would give out any second now. The air tingled from the outpouring of ether in the environment. Fear's face was full on panic mode, ears flopped against his skull. There are ways to leave a pony out of breath, ways to knock them out. He didn't have much magic to spare but... But. He remembered hitting his head a few times and getting a concussion. How can I do that to Chrono!? Something he can't dodge, something he can't dodge! Fear repeated incessantly in his head. He needed to rattle his brain up. He had only one chance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnypjQJV4E4

“You're strong enough to eat, kid! Maybe if I devour you I'LL become stronger!”

Surprise lit up on Fear's face as the knife perforated his chest, but he'd had enough presence of mind to leap back on instinct, keeping it from piercing a lung. Blood was flowing though. Too rapidly for comfort.

Fear's small body couldn't take much more. Alarm purged everything from his body, including hesitation. He slammed his teeth shut and went for it. The colt's horn lit up, a tendril of telekinesis shunting up into Chrono's nostril. This time it was Chrono's turn to look surprised. The sudden sensation of warm air rushing through his snout was enough to make him pause.

No stopping.

No giving up.

No surrender.

Fear latched onto that unicorn's brain and put some oomph into his magic, firmly grasping it and violently shaking it, slamming it in one deft movement against the inside of his skull.

As if realizing what Fear was trying to do, as it happened, Chrono tried to shove the knife into where Fear's chest was. Was. Fear stumbled to the side. He felt woozy, but he saw what he needed. The stallion's eyes crossed from the concussion then rolled around discrepantly, dropping the knife, his horn going dark and letting out a yelp. Pain and adrenaline inspired Fear, stumbling from side to side as if he couldn't get his hooves under him.

Chrono's hooves on the other hand weren't responding at all. His knees buckled under him and he fell, blacking out for a second. A crucial, integral second. Even as Chrono tried to catch himself Fear was already acting. Fear's horn lit up again, this time magic surrounded his enemy's horn. Fear took a step forward in defiance of his death. “I won't let you hurt Crate and Angel, and you're NOT. KILLING. ME!” Pouring on the juice, the energy funneled down through the crystalline nerves, touching the stallion in a way he'd never experienced before. As he was trying to get back onto his hooves, confusion crossing his face, Fear clamped down like a nutcracker with all his might, energy crashing into the thaumic gland and nearly making it explode.

Agony.

Suffering pulsated in Chrono's skull. His entire brain was on fire. It was like a muscle had been completely obliterated, right in the center of his brain. Everything was wobbly, he could hardly stand. His breath hitched in his throat. He screamed.

Bloody.

Murder.

“WHAT DID YOU DO!?”

Chrono's magic didn't respond when he tried it, only managing to give off sickly sparks. He backed up, his legs feeling weak under him. He held his head, eyes squeezed shut, screaming again. A blood curdling, dangerous scream like a cornered animal.

It was now or never. Fear stamped on the ground, swiping the knife from off the ground next to him, his body feeling weak, blood pouring from his wound. He felt cold. “Because I'm their hero and they believe in me!” What little strength he had left for magic was pumped into holding the knife, slicing it through the air across Chrono's throat. It whistled, tearing intimately into his jugular, ripping apart his larynx and esophagus. Shredding it open and revealing it to the world. A veritable fountain of blood was exposed from the ruptured artery. The stallion's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Fear stood disobediently. He stood tall. A breeze whipped across his body as he watched Chrono gurgle and bleed out for a few seconds. Soon enough however, he was shuffling lazily back to his saddlebags.

It felt like an eternity to get there. The entire time he reveled in his endorphin rush. The pride of a job well done, and the exertion he'd put his body through. He laughed a little. “Even a science experiment is still just an equine.” It helped alleviate some of the tension and trauma he was experiencing, but if he was being sincere he was pretty sure he died and he was just dreaming, that he'd wake up soon.

Eventually he made it. He opened up the flap and pulled out the health potion as he fell to his knees, his brain a little sore. Popping the bottle open he downed it in a few quick gulps. His weight felt like too much to handle right now as his vision vignetted. As the medicine flowed into his body steam began rising off the wounds from the heat being generated in his cells, forced to divide at an unnatural rate. He was healing. His blood was coming back. Fear gasped. As the high began to fade he felt his anxiety return. The air was heavy with the scent of ozone. Fear reached out and flicked on his radio. He closed his eyes as the jazz tunes filtered out and melted away his stress and fright. Comforting him. He gathered up his saddlebags and mother, even as exhaustion tried to sweep him away into sleep. His mother's legs were curled under her as she was placed on his back.

Fear shook his head, lifting up his head and cackling like a witch, just like his mother used to sometimes do. All while stumbling over to his Garand, having remembered where it landed. He slurred to his mother. “I did it Mom,” he said woozily. “I fucking beat his ass. I fucking killed him.” He laughed, his snout wrinkling up, the high returning, a power high the likes of which he'd never experienced. “I feel like I'm soaring through the sky, above the cloud cover.” He was sure it wasn't the momentary blood loss. “I've never conquered something that impossible before. It's like I shook off radiation poisoning with sheer will alone.” He threw his head from side to side again emphatically. “This was incredible! This story is just... Impossible.” His voice faded. “No one would believe me.” He shook his head one more time. “Still. Mom. It felt good, doing the right thing. It was nice to kill though in order to do it.” Fear finally made it to his rifle and collapsed, all his stamina drained for now.

You did well my little Nightlight. Congratulations on a good job. Rest now.

“Thanks Mom. I love you. I can't believe how out of my league that guy was.” Fear realized then that he had a choice to keep moving or go back. “I don't... Don't deserve to go back. I did the right thing. I don't doubt that. But I've still done wrong things before.” He sounded sour, solemn. “And the call of a journey is echoing in my mind. It's pulling me forward.”

You can do as you wish, my little Nightlight. I believe you will do the right thing.

Nodding once, he stilled his body. “Thanks Mom. It was amazing, proving myself that way. I've never felt so alive; so accomplished.” He was still damaged but... “Maybe I'll get to do it again. Protect others with my life, and prove that I'm the dominant unicorn.” He looked back toward the stallion, petulantly sticking his tongue out at the lifeless corpse. “Get fucked you stupid asshole.” He snootily tilted his head up. “I win. You lose. Better luck... NEVER! Hah!”

Fear pulled his mother off of him and held her against his body, nearly encompassing him with her stuffed form. He held her tight, dragging a hoof down along where her spine once was, using what he had left of his telekinesis to wrap the stuffed legs around his body. “I regret not staying long enough to get victory snuggles from Angel. I deserve them but... This'll do.” His mother wasn't the same as before, but it was good enough. “Someday I'll get to experience that again.” He sounded uncertain, but it convinced him for now. He rested his head against her body. Not sure but... He could've sworn he felt her presence. His eyes went limp as he was lulled to sleep. Was it his imagination or did he feel a hoof gently stroking over his back, caressing him into a nap?

Whatever. Angel was right... Somehow... Somehow she'll always be with me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=079qsH6j4XI