Tag Warning: Scenes of Gore are constant in this chapter, so hence the sudden 'Gore' Tag on the fic.

Reader Discretion Advised.

Part 2 of the Finale.

Click-Clack!

The bolt of my rifle slid along the bore smoothly as I fed the striper clip inside the receiver. Pressing the bullets down sequentially and closing the bolt, the weapon was fully loaded and ready to fire. I aimed down at the floor to check the Iron Sights, which needed to be reoriented just a tad more to the right.

Calibrated, locked, and loaded, I put the rifle down to take in the scenery around me.

The Olenians were moving quickly, preparing themselves as they grabbed and loaded their weapons deftly and reported to their officers.

Marja had spoken to them all prior that we would be moving out, and they wasted no time to prepare themselves.

In the midst of the commotion, my squad was huddled closer to Marja as they conversed with one another while looking over an interior blueprint of the Hjortland Palace the Olenians managed to snag one day.

Even Rain Drop was let out of his confinement in time to hear in on the situation. I was worried that he would object the plan and upset the delicate peace we had forged, but he showed no reaction upon hearing other than a swift nod of affirmation.

“Your team of Pegasi will provide adequete fire support from the rooftops after you’ve relocated from deploying the decoy demolitions. The clouds above can give you cover if you can use them. We expect you to provide overwatch for our advance out of the open through the front plaza when things go awry. In case you are suspected to be a Changeling, the passcode is ‘Velvet.’ Remember that.”

“And how many are we bringing on this? How many do you think will make it through?” Brass asked aloud in a taut tone that bordered exhaustion and adrenaline.

“We’ll have at least three-hundred of our finest fighters participating in the charge, the rest will stay here in case they counter. Our goal is within the building itself on the second floor on the Northwestern Corner. Once we find an opening inside and secure the building as fast as we can, you will have your chance to scavenge for anything that might hint to what you are looking for. Whatever that may be,” she alluded. “There shouldn’t be more than a hundred outside the Palace if everything goes smoothly.”

“And on the off-chance it doesn’t? What happens then?” Dominoes asked.

“We expect this to be a hard fight regardless. Many of us will not be coming back when this is done. If things go badly, we save whatever we can and issue a general retreat back to the Bastion.” She gives a derisive snort at the thought, glancing back at her comrades before finishing.

“We will use the craters in the streets as cover, but we will be like rats in a hole without our fire support.” She continued. “When you detonate the charges, contact us on the designated frequency and we will begin. I trust you will do your part?”

“We will do our best,” Morning Dew replied, her radio pack slung around her back.

“I would hope so,” Marja said tersely, “We are putting all our chips on this bet. I don’t want you to fold at the last minute. You will have 20 minutes until you leave.” Marja nods to Brass before turning away towards her comrades and discuss their plans in their native languages.

“So,” Pumpkin spoke first, “this is it then.”

Brass nods. “We meet here in 20 to leave. Do whatever you need to do, and carry whatever you need without encumbering yourself. Say your prayers, if you have to.” She remarks before wandering off in the direction of the infirmary. Probably to check on Storm Cloud.

“I have a bad feeling about all of this.” Syringe speaks up next.

“Who doesn’t?” Rain asks. An awkward silence overtakes us. Thick enough to suffocate if you bask in it.

“I try not to think about that.” Dominoes softly speaks up for us to hear—of which we agree to stop the conversation at that poignant point.

The next 20 minutes went by faster than I would like. Most of it was spent calculating what to leave behind and what to bring with me. I mostly pondered on which weapon I preferred to carry during this enduring confrontation. On the one hoof, I much preferred the Lavender Rifle over the Olenian’s SMG, owed largely due to its sturdy reliability and accuracy over distances. It was, however, cumbersome to reload—especially in tight spaces, where I was going to be in with the Olenian Palace.

Which transitions nicely to the other hoof on the topic; The SMG was compact and lightweight, but was still able to hold and fire a decent amount of bullets within the magazine. Easier to reload to compared to having to feed stripper clips or—even worse—individual bullets into the reciever of the Lavender Rifle. Overall, it made it the perfect choice close quarters combat.

It took me a while, weighing the pros and cons, but I eventually opted the SMG over the Rifle for this one occassion.

The rest of the time was spent taking inventory of what I had: Two frag grenades, one smoke grenade, four SMG magazines (not counting the one already fed to my gun), a gas mask, an electrical torch to make out underground, and a bayonet.

As I was finishing dressing myself of my equipment, a tap on my shoulder grabs my attention. I turned around to see Syringe holding a potion in front of me.

“Drink, doctor’s orders.” Syringe sternly orders. The bottle’s cork was pulled off by a wingtip and was shoved into my lips before I could even get a sound out of me. It was a thick, bitter, gag-inducing liquid.

Not even a second after I started chugging against my will did my stomach and throat began to revolt. But I had learned the hard way not to question Syringe’s advice. Squinting my eyes and blocking the senses out of my mind’s eye, I forced every last drop down my throat until I could finally breathe.

“Good job,” Syringe sounded impressed.

“If I find out you poisoned me and I die later,” I spoke in between gags, spits, and coughs, “I will haunt you for the rest of your days. What did you just force down my gullet?”

“A Miracle Elixir.” Syringe explained matter-of-factly, “I had to convince Marja to get one for Storm Cloud and for you. Unfortunately for Storm’s case, it will take longer for broken bones to be mended than ruptured tissue, but he will manage within a few hours.”

“Why does every healing potion I ever drink, no matter who makes it, always taste like donkey dung?” I mumble bitterly.

“Trust me,” Syringe rolls her eyes, “I hate it too. Try not to get shot again.”

“Well… thanks, anyway. I can feel it working already.”

It wasn’t as painful as my last few run-ins with healing poitions, and I could feel each individual tendon and muscle in my leg mend itself to its prior state.

Soon after, everypony (except Storm Cloud) was back in the center of the platform and found Marja waiting for us, with a thick piece paper in her hooves.

Turns out it was a map out of the sewers and into an alleyway about a hundred meters away from Palace Grounds.

Marja reminds us of our objectives: Deploy the Decoy Explosives away from the Palace Grounds to divert some of the personnel, Make contact with her to begin the attack after they bite the bait, and cover their advance inside and secure the interior. It sounded a lot easier on paper. But there was no turning back now.

Marja stands atop a table and shouts to grab the attention of every deer here. “Soldiers, Brothers, Sisters, Fellow Comrades in Arms, lend me your ears!” Almost instantaneously, the hundreds of Olenians milling about ceased their preparations to grant their undivided attention to their speaker

Silence overtook the bastion; and not the kind that you learn to tune into, no: there was total silence in the entirety of the Bastion. Marja paused a little longer to let the silence ripen for effect.

“You expect of me a speech?” She asks rhetorically, earning mute nods. “I have only one to give. It is the same speech I would give to you, were we not about to stand on the battlefield.

“I only ask today for one thing: for you to give heart and to show courage, to see this beautiful country free from the yoke of oppression and tyranny! And today, our pony friends have granted us a unique opportunity that is now ripe for the taking. For today, we take back the heart of this city and the soul of our nation!

“I have had only one dream, in all my time I had spent fighting alongside you all to free this country from the blight that clenches it so! I’ve dream’t of seeing this kingdom united under a crown that cares not for their own personal ambitions, but rather for the ambitions of its people! And it is through its people—it is through each and every single one of you—that we can see this dream become a reality, for it is not because of me, nor the kings of old, nor the politicians of today, that can make this dream a reality, it is through you! Because you are Olenia!”

Murmurs of agreement can be heard throughout the crowd.

“So today, I ask of you to do the same thing you would do were we not here now to risk everything we’ve held so dear! I ask you to fight! To fight for yourselves, to fight for your friends, for your family, for your gods, for your glory, for your survival, for your pride—I do not care what the reason is, so long as you FIGHT!”

Cheers erupts across the crowd spontaneously like an earthquake.

Through it all, Marja stood stoic, but smiling triumphantly all the same.

The grate above my head slid open with a loud grinding sound, thankfully enclosed from an unoccupied alleyway to muffle the noise. My head was the first to peek out after nearly 10 minutes of following a literal paper trail. Eventually, we surfaced to find a cloudy sky blinding Celestia’s sun.

“Clear,” I announced as I gingerly climbed out of the hole. Lending a hoof to help out the next pony behind me, Brass Screws was the first one to grab hold. Syringe, then Morning Dew, Dominoes, Rain Drop, and Pumpkin Patch came after.

“We will have a sentry on the surface ready to receive your signal to give you the best reception possible. Stay on our frequency and give us the go-ahead after you're done. Then we will begin.” An Olenian calls out from below, his voice echoing from the sewers.

“Be ready, we will be done soon enough.” Brass Screws replies back down as she grabs hold of the grate.

“Good luck, fellow comrades. You will need it.” Those were his last words before the lid was sealed.

“Finally,” Dominoes sighs, “I don’t have to smell sewage anymore. I will not miss that stench.”

“Nor do I.” Syringe agrees.

“Focus,” Brass interjects as she clicks the safety of her weapon off, “Do we got the goods Rain Drop?”

“Yep,” he simply replies, showing a saddlebag filled to the brim with TNT, pointing over to Dominoes, “He’s got his too. So, what is our target with these again?”

“Anything that looks important enough to grab their attention for a while, it doesn’t matter what specifically.” Brass breathes a deep breath to herself as each of us readied our weapons. “We keep a low profile until the Olenians pop out of their holes. Until then, the ROE is to return fire and nothing else. We want discretion.”

“No arguments there,” Pumpkin quietly acquiesced.

“Dominoes, you take point. Everypony else stays close.” Brass orders, as the former nods with resolution.

Peeking out from the dead-end alley we emerged from, we could hear the din of battle still going on further away from behind us. Our pony comrades were still giving them a tough time from the sound of it, but it wasn’t close enough to draw the Jaegers away from Hjortland’s Palace.

“Sunshine, you said there were some guns near the Palace?” Brass asks quietly from behind.

“Yuh-huh, big ones too. At least 88’s if not bigger.” I informed her. “They were very close to the Palace though, and I didn’t see any other ones that nearby.”

“But they were at least 88’s, right? At the bare minimum?”

“Minimum, yes… What are you planning?” I asked back.

Brass Screws contemplates for a while. “... We don’t have any potential targets far enough away to grab their attention with the decoys… unless we intercept an armed column on the way to the front further south, but that’s a death wish with just us…”

She looks up at the sky. “... It seems the clouds have gotten thicker since you came back, Sunshine.”

I looked up at Brass’s words. And sure enough, they did seem thicker and a lot higher in altitude, at least a hundred meters, though perhaps more so than that.

“And you said they had a heavy-weapon ammunition stockpile behind the palace as well, didn’t you?”

My heart skipped a beat at those words.

“You… you’re not serious, are you?” Syringe cautiously asks, to which Brass shrugs.

“It depends on how close to the Palace they are, but if I remember correctly from the pictures you lent us,” her eyes lock onto me, “they were far enough to not cause… significant damage to the structure of the Palace.

“Oh Sweet Celestia, she is serious.” Syringe mutters darkly.

“But, isn’t that…” I paused, trying to find the right words as everypony waits for me to speak, “Wouldn’t that put us at risk?”

“We would be high up enough that-”

“No no no no, not like that, I mean…” I paused, looking around instinctively for eavesdroppers until I realized the ridiculousness of that notion and just spoke plainly.

“What about ‘the bomb?’”

A pause, followed by several hard blinks.

“I mean, think about it logically here: if a large chain-reaction-explosion is set off in the same location where we are potentially searching for a Nuclear Bomb…”

I didn’t finish.

Each of them gave a tentative glance at one another. Judging by the cautiously contemplative expressions on their features, I didn’t think I needed to elaborate.

But just to be safe…

“... Is this a risk we want to take?” I finished.

Everypony glanced at one another, waiting for somepony other than themselves to say speak up to this. No counter-argument was made until Brass spoke up.

“Unless we want our Olenian friends to be killed, it’s a risk we have to take. And the longer we delay here, the less chance of success we will have of getting out of here alive.”

I was somewhat appalled at this. I wanted to object, it seemed insane. The potential risk was too great to ignore at the very least, but Brass didn’t even seem to consider that.

Or maybe she didn’t want to think about the consequences of that destructive act.

Either way, it seemed reckless.

“That… doesn’t seem smart to me,” I spoke honestly. “It seems like we are dabbling with a very dangerous powder keg here… Literally.”

“And I agree.” Brass replies in kind. “But do you have a better idea? Did you see any better targets while you were up there?”

The challenge left me at a loss for words. And despite the logic behind her request, I couldn’t answer.

There was no better option. And I didn’t have an alternative to her plan because of it. My silence spoke volumes in this case.

“I don’t like it either Sunshine. But if there is no alternative,” she slides the bolt of her rifle back to chamber a bullet, “then we keep going.”

Nopony else dared to speak up apparently, judging by their silence. So I simply nodded in mute agreement.

“Right then. Dominoes, take point. We’re going up to the clouds.”

Maybe it was naive of me to say, but I had hoped that the ongoing conflict from our pony brethren would be more than enough to draw the attention of the Changeling Garrison away from Hjortland Palace. That same hope was already dashed during my reconnaissance mission earlier in the day, but there was at least the saving grace that we would have the element of surprise on our side.

At least, thats what I thought.

Staring down at the opulent Palace from a patch of Stratocumulus, a nauseating lump in my stomach overtook me. There had to be at least a hundred.

“That is… a lot.” Rain whispered ever so eloquently.

The garrison had seemingly doubled in size since I last saw them. And that wasn’t just Hyperbole; They were everywhere. Like a miniature hive, they buzzed about across the front plaza stacking sandbags and prepare weaponry, whilst further back there were more Changelings occupying the makeshift trenches they dug out from the dirt of the Botanical Gardens.

Several deafening explosions were fired from behind the Palace Building as mortars and artillery fired away to the south where the fighting was located. The Changelings working on them didn’t seem particularly stressed or rushed; they methodically loaded the guns with trained speed and precision. They continued to fish out more shells from the tents that stockpiled their heavy ammunition, running to and fro in between as they never stopped working around the clock.

“There’s our target.” Brass quietly points to the artillery guns. “Is the Satchel ready?”

“It just needs to be ignited, and we are good to go.” Dominoes answers quickly.

“Alrighty,” Brass shoulders off another satchel she had been carrying, tossing it to Dominoes. “You’re our decoy specialist for this job. I need you to get the party started for us.”

Dominoes deftly catches the bag mid-air and slings it around his torso.

“I do love me some good fireworks.” Dominoes jests.

“Make it a big show. We want as much attention as we can grab from them.”

“And when I’m done?”

“When you’re done, you will rendezvous to us. We will most likely be on the rooftops when shit hits the fan, so look for us.”

“Right then,” Dominoes acquiesced as he turned to take off. But before he took off, a hoof hooks around his leg to stop him.

“And don’t fly back when you are done. They will be expecting Pegasi. Just run back and keep to cover.”

Dominoes nods in mute and takes off in a fast but not to steep dive behind us. Thankfully, we were just far away enough to not be seen by the enemy.

The evening sun was starting to set to the west, casting long shadows to the ground below and illuminating rooftops in a vibrant orange hue. The sun would be in our eyes if we were to start our fight right here.

Not ideal. And Brass knows this. She quietly orders each of us to start flapping our wings and gently push the cloud northbound, slowly and steadily gliding across the sky to not arouse suspicion. It drifted gently for about a few minutes until we were over the roof of the Palace.

“Okay stop moving!” Brass quickly whispers, each of us sitting atop to not expose our bodies in the open. The inertia slows down the clouds and drifts them to a halt.

Right over the Botanical Gardens.

“Okay Sunshine, Which one’s got the biggest caliber of shells?” Brass asks, pointing a hoof down at the tents that their heavy ammunition.

I almost felt bad for the Changelings, for what was about to happen next.

Almost.

“The biggest green one, there.” I pointed a hoof at the aforementioned target. “That one’s carrying 120 Milimeter shells. A lot of them.”

“I can’t help but feel like this is too easy.” Syringe pipes up quietly.

Each of us collectively spare her glance in mute acknowledgment.

It did seem easy. Too easy, in fact. I remember I had a much harder time getting by the Changeling Garrisons with less peering eyes to look out for. Now that we are over the Palace Grounds without getting caught despite there being more of them, I can’t help but wonder.

How?

It seemed too unlikely for it to be possible. How have they not spotted us? They spotted me just as easily, and there weren’t even that many back then. And yet, we still are breathing to prove it to be true. Not shot was fired, no shout was heard.

“Doesn’t matter now, we’re here.” Brass interrupts my thoughts by carefully scooting away from the cloud’s edge. “Okay, Morning, is your pack on?”

“Not yet.”

“When we hear Dominoes put on his fireworks, thats when you give the signal,” She turns to Rain Drop, “when that happens, I want you to light the goods and drop it onto the shells below.”

The latter nods, his forehooves slinging the satchel off of him carefully to not drop it. His body may be able to sit in clouds, but the same cannot be said for our equipment.

“For now, we wait.” Brass orders with a whisper.

For about five nerve-wracking, ephemerally eternal minutes, we’ve played hide-and-seek with our greatest enemies down below us, being the closest we’ve been to our goal in… who knows how long?

It felt like I was sitting on a precipice, staring down at destiny below.

“This is taking too long!” Rain whispers.

“Shhh!”

No more words were spoken, but the suspense was—pardon the cliche—fucking unbearable. I was starting to shake at the limbs a little, calming myself only with quiet breathing exercises.

“... Where the fuck is he?” Brass whispers coarsely. “They are starting to look at our cloud.”

My heart started beating faster.

“Come on Dominoes.” I whispered aloud. “Don’t fail us now—”

Kra-Koom!

From behind me, the most jubilating explosion I had heard in a while sounded off just in front of the Palace Plaza, practically eviscerating the building it detonated in while toppling down several stories of the neighboring apartments, crashing down in a spectacular fashion.

It shook the foundations of neighboring buildings enough for them to start collapsing down as well, destroying half of the block it detonated in.

“That’s our cue! Now!” Brass points at both Rain and at Morning, signalling both to do their work.

Everything that happened next was simultaneous.

Rain Drop quickly ignites the fuse of the Satchel, and tosses it downwards at such an angle it would bounce forward and slide into the Tent with perfect accuracy.

Morning Dew would switch the power of her radio and Brass quickly got to work operating it; twisting several knobs and dials to hone in on the frequency and to get the transmitter running.

Everypony else—myself included—peered down with our weapons ready in case they had spotted us, but none were too busy looking up at us when they were preoccupied with what looked like an incoming assault on their strongpoint.

“The nest has been rattled, I say again, the nest has been rattled!” Morning Dew calls through on the telephone with finality, giving the signal. “All hooves, get to—”

Heat and intense force catapulted us off our clouds, as the shockwave from the mighty explosions below dissipated our cloud cover almost instantly.

The blast had knocked me upward to the sky, leaving me off balance and spinning in random directions, I could hear a few snaps of flying shrapnel zipping pass me.

Instinctively, I had regained control of my flight and hovered in place long enough to see a dark cloud of soot and ash billow upward toward us from the blast.

Looking down I saw most of my squad regaining stability and quickly dispersing into separate directions to conceal themselves among clouds and buildings down below. I didn’t have time to see who remained afterward and promptly flew back towards the nearest pony I could find.

Rain Drop was hugging a smaller patch by his lonesome until I planned myself next to him and curled up as small as I could.

Rain shot me a deathly stare for a moment, but swallowed whatever he was going to say.

Frantic screaming and shouting were heard from below as some of the Changelings in the garrisons were annihilated by the blast. The others were either gravely wounded or tending to the wounded.

Every-ling was left reeling after such an explosion that some abandoned their posts to help tend the now roaring fires of secondary munition explosions going off behind them. They took care to try and save whatever wounded remained as well.

A new sound was then heard below me; The sound of a shrill whistle being blown.

A roaring cacophony; of Screams, bellows, shouts, battle cries, and promises of death as I saw Olenian figures emerge from the windows of buildings, from the grate holes of sewers, and from around the corners of streets to charge into the fray.

Soon the gunfire started.

Tartarus was let loose.

“You hurt?!” Rain Drop asked out of the blue.

“N-no, just shaken-”

“Then start shooting!” he shouts, leaving no more words to be said as he flies down from his cloud and glides towards the rooftops. Leaving me alone on this barely surviving patch of cloud.

I looked down at the gristly scene. White Tracers of automatic fire from the Olenians are suppressing whatever Changelings still remained.

The few that didn’t abandon their forward positions to help the garrison found themselves paying the price for their diligence in death.

They were quickly overwhelmed, and the Deer that weren’t busy shooting were steadily advancing forward across the front Plaza taking cover in anything they could find—Leftover sandbags, Craters in the streets, and overturned vehicles.

I scanned the battlefield. I saw where Rain flew towards, providing suppressing fire with his Everfree SLR to cover the advance.

Scanning at the clouds above me I found nopony shooting down from them.

Scanning the rooftops of the Hjortland Palace, I was surprised to see Pumpkin Patch up there instead of Changelings.

He was busy sniping them from behind, picking them off without them even realizing they were being flanked.

A snap passes over me. Instinct realizes I am being shot and promptly takes over, gliding my body down in an evasive manner to get to the rooftops next to Rain Drop.

Landing rather roughly for my liking, I slammed down in a painful thud on the uncomfortably constructed shingles of the roof tiles. My gun slipped from my grasp and was sliding down the roof.

“Shit!” I swore as I yanked it back with a hoof, my body sliding down the roof with it until I was face to face with the ground, dangling over the edge.

Only to be stopped by Rain Drop grabbing my tail with his mouth, and pulling me and my gun back up.

“I hope me saving you isn’t gonna become a habit.” He groans as he balances me to my hooves.

“Sorry,” I can only mutter as I carefully climb my way back up to the crest. Peaking over, I see the forward positions of the Changeling Garrisons being overrun entirely, leaving only the second line of defense at the Palace Steps itself for them to fall back to.

Most didn’t make it, as they were shot in the back.

“I lost sight of everyone else, and the bugs are starting to get wise.” Rain Drop fills me in. “There’s still some Jaegers left hiding behind the windows.”

“Pumpkin’s on the roof of the Palace, last I saw him!” I replied in a hurry as I steadied my gun along the roof crest to aim.

Taking sights as one peeking from behind a Corinthian Column near the front stairs, I squeezed the trigger. The SMG sounds off relatively quietly, in comparison to the deafening onslaught ahead of me. And it was not accurate enough to land a hit, but it did scare him.

“We do what we can, make these shots count!” Rain methodically replies as he returns fire with short bursts of automatic suppression. He targets the windows where he can see muzzles flashing off, giving the Jeagers something to worry about.

“Cover me, Gotta load!” he announces as he shifts down from the crest and lets me take over. I squeeze my trigger in a sequential fashion, disregarding accuracy in favor of suppression as I let loose a hail of bullets down below. Many of them struck close to home, but no dice on any hits. But it did the job of providing a deterrent to peeking out again.

Some of them were growing wise though, as Rain aptly put it earlier. Snaps and Cracks of bullets striking the roof in front of me forced me to scoot down just in time to see Rain Drop done reloading.

“They know we’re here, we gotta move!” I warned Rain, as he pulled back the receiver’s action and reloads his weapon.

“We gotta get inside if we wanna do some good!” Rain replies. “And we can’t do shit until the Olenians provide covering fire for us!”

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing that for them?!”

“It works both ways, dammit!” He curses back as he contemplates on what to do.

Kra-Boom!

An explosion sounds off on the roof behind us, just barely over the crest we were hiding behind.

“Shit!”

“What was that?!” I asked.

“They got fucking Rifle-Grenades!”

Another explosion sounds off to confirm his suspicion. They exploded on impact, and they were getting closer to us.

“We gotta—Shit!” Rain swiftly takes aim behind me, prompting me to yelp and scoot out of the way before he lets loose a barrage down below. Snaps of bullets fly back at us in return. “They’re below us! We gotta go!” he quickly takes flight after emptying the magazine. I followed suit, flying parallel to the apartments we were hiding atop and over derelict alleyways. Bullets zip and snap past us in stubborn determination, some flying by closer than I would like.

Rain dips around the corner of these apartments to the left and I quickly dip around in pursuit, seeing him gliding down to land on the sidewalk. He then books another left onto the main street of Front Plaza.

“What the fu—RAIN!” I tried to call out as he charged head-first into No-Creature’s Land.

I wanted to chase after him, until I remembered we were being pursued ourselves.

Swiftly turning around and hovering in place with as much stability as I could muster, I took aim down the street with my SMG aiming high.

I knew they would be coming, and chances are they would be flying after me like I was.

The first one came around the corner at the ground, aiming at ground level without him seeing me.

I took the first chance and squeezed a short burst at him in his head. He drops down unceremoniously in a lifeless thump.

A bullet snaps over me as the second one, flying above me, misses an easy shot with his rifle and was struggling to load another round.

I squeezed the trigger again.

Click-Click.

Pure dread encompasses my being as my neurons fire up the fight-or-flight response. I felt my gun empty, and I saw my enemy reload.

Instinct told me to charge him, and I obliged by throwing it at him.

Bellowing a shriek, I flew at him with hooves extended. The sheer audacity of my stunt was enough to stun him for a precious half of a second as I closed the distance.

To his credit, he snapped out of it remarkably fast and took aim after clicking the bolt.

The rifle sounded off just above my head as I made contact and tackled him with as much strength as I could muster. He lost grip of his gun and he and I both fell down to the earth in a painful crash and tumbled around a little while.

I had lost my grip on him, and soon he rolled and tumbled out of my grasp as both of us came sliding to a painful stop.

Both of us groaning, we looked up at each other and he saw both of us without our weapons. It was only then did I realize I had dropped my gun in lieu of tackling him in desperation.

He and I quickly stood up, fumbling around as he furiously gestures his hooves towards his helmet.

I wasted no time charging him again as he unbuckles his helmet straps.

Blong!!

“Ah, sonuvabitch!” I swore aloud.

His helmet painfully connects to my face, and I wished I could say it didn’t fucking hurt!

Another painful force to my torso knocks the wind out of me, and I see my attacker now atop of me in full mount, his face donning the look of wrath.

Still strugglin to breathe, I found myself depleted of energy as he forcefully plants his hooves onto my throat and starts choking.

Sharp pain invaded my throat. I couldn’t breathe, and the fire in my lungs was starting to become agonizing.

I felt my head tighten from pressure, and my eyes started leaking as my limbs desperately flail about and slap back in futile resistance.

Until I felt something heavy and solid to my left. His helmet that he threw.

At this point, I was feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Desperately clawing, scratching, grasping at the straps to pull it closer, I turned it over until finally I found a good grip.

And I swung, with the last vestige of strength left, right onto his horn, as it snaps and cracks into pieces.

He lets out a blood-curdling scream, letting go of my neck instantly to clutch his forehead as green blood seeped profusely from it.

Gasping and coughing violently, I finally managed to breathe oxygen as I feel life flowing into me again.

Looking at my attacker, he was too incapacitated to stop screaming or let go of his now bleeding horn, as it crackles and snaps with unbound energy.

The other piece of it was laying off to the side, in a rather sorry state without its counterpart.

Grabbing the helmet with my forehooves, I felt that instinct take over again.

After another arduous crawl towards my wailing enemy, I mounted atop of him, clutching the sides of his helmet. He looks through the holes in his chitin hooves, and he sees me atop of him ready to kill.

His arms feebly reach and grab onto me. “Nein, Bitte, Bitt—”

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

The sounds of the world drowned out like I was underwater. But still I kept going.

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

I looked down at my victim and saw what used to be a skull. Now it was a crevice, with pulpuous brain matter bleeding profusely from the bottom.

I tossed the helmet aside and looked around for my weapon. Seeing it lying in the middle of the street, I inspected it for damage.

“Still good.” I said to myself, my shaking hooves struggling to release the magazine to load a new one in.

After a little fumbling around, I felt a wave of nausea creeping up that I had violently suppressed with a shake of my head.

“Don’t think about it,” I said to myself as I cocked the mechanism back to load another mag, “Just don't think about it.” My hearing started returning to me a little, and I could hear the din of battle growing louder with each passing second.

My senses returned when I finally finished reloading and saw that the Olenians were holed up in various positions. They couldn’t advance any further; the fire from the Palace stalled their advance, and they were pinned.

Several Changelings took a few opportunity potshots at the holed-up Olenians by flying above them and shooting down below. Many of them were shot down in response to this, but not without taking someone with them.

The situation was deteriorating, and I couldn’t find Rain Drop or anypony else anywhere.

I saw Olenians throwing smoke grenades over their craters to try and block their line of sight. They were also busy throwing back Changeling grenades landing in their holes, some exploding just over their heads too close for comfort.

It took several long minutes until their smoke grenades were finally billowing enough to block the whole front plaza sightline altogether.

A few pot shots were fired through the smoke from both sides, neither of which was landing any hits.

I took it as a sign to move forward, moving from cover to cover as I saw many Olenian and Changeling Corpses across streets and narrow grassy fields. More Changeling bodies than Olenians, but who knows how long that will last?

Charging forward until I was on the leftmost street, I found a crater harboring a singular Olenian. He seemed confused as to my presence, and aimed their guns swiftly at me in suspicion.

“Velvet, Velvet, Velvet!” I spoke the passcode over and over as I jumped inside. He understood me, at least; He wasn’t aiming at me anymore.

As I panted heavily from the sprinting and exertion, I found myself listening to the few potshots that were being fired across the plaza. The Olenian in my hole with me was groaning.

I looked at him and saw he had a bullet wound on his stomach that he was clutching with a free hoof.

“Oh shit.” I voiced aloud.

He didn’t seem to understand me, as his attention was hyper-fixated on his wound.

He looked scared.

“Hang on, hang on,” I spoke to him as I gingerly pulled out a precious bandage for him. Only one of two.

I was faced with a dilemma: Do I save him? Can I save him? Use a precious bandage on him?

I shook my head clear of those thoughts and got to work applying pressure to the wound. It didn’t look like the bullet went through.

That’s bad.

Applying pressure to his wound, I squeezed on it as hard as I could. My hooves were now stained with his blood, the bandage soaking up a lot of crimson.

He looks at me with confused gratitude. He looked like he was barely an adult.

“Kittos.” He speaks in his young, native tongue.

“Uh…” I hummed, “... you’re welcome?”

I wasn’t sure what else to say.

Wrapping it around and tying it to his torso, the pressure applied would at least prolong his life, if nothing else. I heard him wince and groan a few times but was otherwise lenient on my actions.

I tuned my ears to hear any of my squad mates, to listen to their voices and see if they were alive. I hear a few others shouting, none of them familiar.

That was when I noticed it. How… quiet everything was.

No gunshots, only sporadic shouting.

The smoke billowed in front of us slowly and was taking a long time to dissipate. A couple of shots were heard then, but not many more afterward.

It was way too quiet now for what had happened minutes before this.

Shouts from the Changeling side overpowered the shouting from the Olenians. It sounded like… parlay? I didn’t know. It was too foreign for me to interpret.

It was moments like these where I wished I had Syringe’s linguistic talents.

Machine Gun fire from the Palace abruptly halts any sort of communication there was for a few seconds before it, too, goes quiet. The smoke was dissipating enough for both sides to see through. I could see faint outlines of Changelings rushing inside the doors of the Palace.

What was going on?

I scooted down from the crater’s edge towards the bottom after feeling a sudden overwhelming premonition.

Something was about to happen.

Something very bad.

There weren’t many sounds to tune in to besides faint gunfire further south and shouting from all around us. This left an air of unbridled tension that was waiting to be punctured with a bullet, but no such bullets came. Everyone was content to hide in their holes and wait for a long while.

And it was during the dead stillness of this makeshift ceasefire that a new sound emerged.

Hissing.

Like a snake, it sounded too artificial to be any animal or creature. It sounded like a vapor, being constantly leaked.

“KAASU! KAASU!”

The Olenian suddenly screamed from beside me, terror overtaking his voice.

"KAASU!"

That word was repeated all across the Olenians frantically, leaving me dumbfounded.

A whiff of chlorine pervades my nostrils.

And like a silver bullet piercing through the fog of my confusion, I realized with bone-chilling, heart-pounding horror what was happening.

It wasn’t until I heard a Ponish scream from somewhere behind me that my dreadful suspicions were confirmed.

"GAS! GAS INCOMING!"

There was no time wasted.

My hooves moved lightning quick to grab the mask dangling from my hip this entire time as I tried to mount it on my face.

The noxious fumes were starting to make my eyes water, and my throat started to burn as well.

Pulling it off my waist, I went to wear the mask until I saw something; something that made my heart stop and made me want to scream.

An invisible wall of death approached.

And my gas mask was broken in the goggles as the lens was cracked open from shrapnel.

Fear.

It seized me as I started to cough violently.

The sensation that was meant to relieve me actually brought more pain instead; I can feel my throat rupturing at the seams as my vocal cords felt like they were disintegrating. My lungs were burning like brimstone as well.

That same fear turned into pure, unadulterated terror as I realized I couldn’t escape.

They would shoot me dead if I tried to flee.

But if I stayed here, I would be dead anyway.

I was about to die.

The Olenian next to me started to cough violently as well.

I could see his eyes streaming black tears as they lost their color. Mine were starting to lose vision as well, but still I saw he had no mask on himself, as he was busy trying to multi-task pressuring his wound and trying to put on his mask.

He fumbled said mask out of his hoof and it tumbled onto the bottom of the crater below.

Perfectly intact.

Filter in place.

He desperately went to reach for it, his other hoof never leaving his wound as he looked on with horrifying realization that he wouldn’t make it in time.

Instinct. It grabbed me again.

Scrambling down onto the crater, I grabbed the mask gingerly to not compromise it and inspect its condition—of which was perfect.

The Olenian looks at me with pleading eyes.

And without a second thought of hesitation and started to apply the straps onto myself, fixing it in place over my face.

As I did so, I could feel the Olenian’s feeble hooves attempt to dislodge the mask from me. His voice was muffled, my perception of sound drowned out as I only focused on the present moment.

His cries turned into pleas. I can see him struggling to breath as a thin vapor billows inside the hole with us. Through my masked breathing, I can still hear him struggling to do just that; breathe.

Snapping the final straps in place, I could feel filtered oxygen seep into my lungs, untained by the horrors outside. Clarity and relief flooded my mind as I breathed the first few breathes of fresh air.

My eyes drift downward to the now limp Olenian, still bleeding but now still. His eyes were tinted rosy red, a look of horror permanently etched onto his features.

He soon went still afterward.

A wave of nausea assaulted me. The realization of what I had done slams me like a freight train.

I had killed before, but… this wasn’t the same.

I smothered his chances of survival without a second thought. I killed what was supposed to be my ally.

And his kindness was betrayed by those he was trying to help.

Tears well up again; not from the gas this time. I wanted to take my mask off to dry them, but that would be fatal to try.

“Celestia forgive me…” I pathetically whimpered as I grabbed his lifeless corpse and tucked his arms over his still bleeding chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

That was when I heard someone shuffling from behind me and landing in the hole I was in. I turned to see Syringe staring down at me and the body with her mask on, taking cover from her enemies.

“What…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I…” I whimpered again, sniffling a little as I try to get my shit together. “I-I did what I could, but he…” I lied.

Somehow, the lie felt more heinous than the actual deed.

Syringe did a double take on the body and my broken gas mask laying at his feet.

“... There was nothing you could’ve done.” Syringe attempts to reassure me. And it only made the guilt even worse. “You did what you could.”

Celestia help me. Syringe doesn’t even realize what I did.

“Stay down.” Syringe urges me while pulling me away from the body, her weapon trained outside the crater. “They’re gonna counter-attack any second now. Get ready.”

Her decisive words snapped me out of my self-hatred-fuelled-stupor. Shaking my head to dry my tears and readying my SMG, I laid on my backside next to Syringe and aimed above me for any intruders.

A few snaps passed over me, as the gunfire returned from the Changeling’s side. Trying to suppress us while covering their comrade’s advance against us. I still had a few frag grenades left I was saving for inside, but it dawned on me that I might have to use them now lest I wish to be killed.

“Got any ‘nades left?” I asked aloud, sniffling once to clear my snotty nostrils.

“Just one.” she answered back, her voice muffled through the mask.

“Make them count.”

The din of battle resumed to its previous intensity as the Olenians were returning fire. It was getting hard to see the enemy with the gas pervading all across the plaza, but that means they need masks too. Both sides had a mutual disadvantage in that regard.

Which means they would likely not want to advance in the open, but rather…

“Check the buildings next to us, that might be where they are coming from!” I called out to Syringe, her gun swiveling around to the apartment next to us as she took aim; my gun trained down the street behind her.

Soon afterward, a figure with glowing blue eyes emerges from the second story, peeking through a window.

Syringe fires a round from her rifle and strikes true. A loud cry of pain was heard from inside.

“Got one!” she announces as she cocks another bullet in. A second pair of eyes emerge from the first floor, kicking open a door right in front of us barely more than a meter away.

My SMG lets loose another hail into his armored chitin, most of them puncturing inside his organs. He stumbles backwards, then forwards in futile resistance, until he falls down onto his mask face first with a groan.

“Gun down!” I said as I ejected the magazine, Syringe’s aimed trained proper on the building next to us. Shouting was heard from inside.

“More incoming!” She warns me as I hastened to feed the magazine into the receiver. Cocking it in place, I began to scramble upward.

“Cover me, I’m going in!” I announce to Syringe. Before she could protest, I leapt forward into the open door and landed uncomfortably on my belly.

A few snaps of bullets flew pass me as I made my way out of the open.

Grabbing my wits and getting on my hooves, fear had temporarily left my system and was replaced with stupid bravado. Inside was an empty living room devoid of furniture and cover, so I stood on my hindlegs against a wall covering the front door and the staircase.

I can hear loud thumping of hoofsteps above me, along with Changelings shouting.

One of them was marching down the stairs as fast as he could to try and close the door, only to be intercepted by bullets to the head as he tumbled down the stairs in a lifeless heap.

Training my gun upstairs, I saw another pair of glowing eyes staring at me with his rifle trained down.

The two of us exchanged fire with one another, both of our shots failing to land and prompting us to take cover.

“Sheiße!” I heard him swear upstairs as he cocked another round.

Peeking that again was a death sentence. Fishing for one of my grenades in my vest, I ignited the fuse and blindly tossed it upstairs. A shot rang out, followed by a frantic scream.

Kra-Koom!

My body swiveled around as I went upstairs on my hind legs, weapon trained upstairs.

During my slow ascent, I spotted mangled remains of the Changeling, who was seen lying fetal in the doorway missing a foreleg as it was tossed next to him. He was twitching on the ground, but was otherwise neutralized.

My gun swivelled around the doorway upstairs to see a Changeling lying beneath a window while clutching his neck. Sickly noises were emanating off of him as he struggled to breathe and stop the bleeding.

His eyes go wide when he locks onto mine. We both stared, admittedly a little dumbfounded. He then sagged his shoulders and his limbs fell limp.

The eyes went still after that.

I took the time to pat down each body for any spare grenades. One smoke and one frag grenade in total.

Quickly galloping downstairs, I found Syringe still hunkering down in the crater I left behind, her focus trained on the Palace in front of her. “Building’s clear!” I yelled through my mask.

She didn’t acknowledge me, too busy reloading her weapon. A stray bullet snaps past, causing me to jump back from the doorway as it ricochets off a wall.

“Too many fucking bugs!” Syringe screams through her mask. “I can’t move!”

A small peek from behind the door was all I need to see what Syring was talking about. Though the cloud of gas was still pervading in the air around us, I could see the windows each harbor a metal rod potruding out of them, firing round after round against their enemies. The muzzle flashes were bright enough to illuminate their faces in the darkness of the windows.

Green tracers of Machine Gun fire fly past in a deafening roar of a Buzzsaw, a torrent of gunfire erupting from the Palace. Most of them were landing on the streets, trying to either kill or supress those holed up inside the Craters. Olenian and Changeling bodies alike were piling up all along the street.

Syringe was the only face I recognized. And she was in a bad spot. If she stayed there any longer…

“SYRINGE!” I screamed as loud as I could through the clammy mask. She gives me a quick look. “GET INSIDE!” I dared myself to peek around and fire a few rounds into a window. It didn’t achieve much.

Syringe, meanwhile, tried to move, but found herself stuck underneath a hail of bullets flying over her head. Many of them landing close to her.

It was starting to rupture my eardrums with the amount of gunfire going on, as I hear the faintest ringing of tinnitus in the background.

But I didn’t need to hear what was going to happen next; I could feel it coming before I heard it.

I looked at the ground, vibrating as tiny pebbles bounced up and down. My hooves were quaking as they stood on the ground. My heart drops and a cold sensation washes over me.

I recognized that sensation.

“SYRINGE!” I screamed again, “WE HAVE TO GO!”

The rumbling of the Panzer Engine emerging from our rear was heard soon after. Syringe did a double take behind her and to me. And though I couldn’t see her face, I could see her eyes: her pupils were dilated and shrunk into pinpricks as pure panic seeps into her features.

She knows what is coming, but she can’t move.

The gunfire was starting to slow down as everyone on the battlefield heard what was coming. All eyes trained to the south.

There was no way I could reach to Syringe and bring her into relative safety without getting shot at myself

And I couldn’t bring myself to leave her behind.

So instead of running, I jumped in with her as I tackled her to the ground.

Green Tracers whizz overhead immediately afterward, narrowly missing their mark.

“Stay down!” I yelled as both of us laid as low to the ground as possible. I didn’t dare to peek my head up to see what came next.

Somewhere in the main street next to me, sounds of Olenians warning each other of the imminent danger were superceded by the din of automatic gunfire. The treads were rumbling close enough that I can assume it passed around a curb, aiming at our direction.

Heart-pounding, soul-terrorizing silence took over the battlefield for only a couple of seconds as I could hear the grinding mechanisms of the turret swiveling in our direction.

KRA-BOOOM!

The shell pierce’s overhead with a shrill whistle. The detonation that followed, strangely enough, was further north than I expected.

Green tracers of MG fire buzz from the tank, snapping overhead indiscriminately.

My brain worked furiously; The shell and the bullets were missing us entirely, and were aiming at the Palace.

Are they targeting their own allies?

“What is going on? Why aren’t they shooting at us?” Syringe noticed it too.

Eventually, the MG fire was salvoed back in kind from the Palace Windows as the Changelings returned fire on the Panzer down the street.

KRA-BOOOM!

Another mighty explosions rocks the direction of the Palace. Taking a few seconds to steel myself, I dared my body to creep up the slope of the crater and peek overhead.

The Palace had two gaping holes blown open from the first floor, collapsing the foundations of the second and third floors that then caused an artificial landslide. The debris from the destruction piled up to form a makeshift ramp to scale up the enemy defenses, and granting access inside.

Turning my head around, I saw the Panzer in Question aiming its guns at the Palace… boasting an battle-torn Olenian Flag staffed at the top of the turret.

“Sweet Celestia, it’s one of ours!” I announced aloud, looking down at Syringe’s wide eyes “The Olenians-”

Ping!

An immense force rocked craned my neck downward as my body went flying forward atop of Sryinge almost instantly. My dead weight had knocked the wind out of her, and I struggled for a moment to gather my bearings at what happened.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Syringe frantically asked over my limp body as she inspected my head for injuries. That was when I noticed I had lost my helmet.

“Yeah yeah, I’m okay… I think. Am I?” I asked.

“I… somehow, yeah! You got shot in the head!”

My heart dropped. I quickly reached to grab my helmet, my body subconsciously taking care to keep as low as possible this time, as I saw a white indenture of a bullet impacting the top of my Brodie Helmet.

It ricochetted clean off the scalp, leaving only a white mark to prove my survival. I quickly put it back on.

“I am never taking this damn thing off again!” I spoke aloud as I buckled the snap back beneath my chin.

“Don’t fucking peek over like that next time!” Syringe chastised with a slap to my shoulder. “I thought you died!”

“So did I.” I replied honestly as I grabbed my dropped weapon.

KRA-BOOOM!

The explosion behind me reminded me of my message. “The Panzer outside is Olenian! They have that thing commandeered!”

“Yeah I figured that much, but how?”

I looked at the building I cleared earlier, seeing a more reasonable chance to infiltrate now that we have a tank supporting us. “We gotta get to better cover!” I announced as I swiftly took off and dove inside the front door. Nobody shot at me this time.

Syringe wasted no time to dive after me, taking a breather after closing the door behind her.

“Now what?” she panted.

“Now we find the others and make our way inside!”

“Yeah, but, how?”

Good Question, I thought to myself.

BAM!

The door violently slams open, startling both me ans Syringe half to death as Rain Drop comes barreling through the door way panting and wheezing, scrambling to close the mangled frame back in place.

Me and Syringe quickly recovered, prompting both of us to raise our weapons in suspicion of him being a bug; only to hear him yell out:

“Sweet Luna’s Tits! It’s fucking Tartarus out there!”

He looks up at both of us after his rant and furrows his brow.

“Fuck off, I don’t have time for that right now!”

“... Yeah, thats him,” Syringe sighs, “no bug can replicate that.”

Bullets shatter the nearby windows, as green tracers of Machine Gun fire were trying to hit us.

“We need to move!” I called out as I scrambled upstairs away from the door. Rain and Syringe followed suit and hugged the nearby walls.

“RAIN, DID YOU SEE ANYPONY ELSE OUT THERE?!” Syringe yells over the deafening gunfire.

“FUCK NO! I WAS BUSY STAYING ALIVE! YOU SEE WHAT WE ARE DEALING WITH?!”

“SHUT UP!” I screamed over everything, plugging my ears with my wings and cradling my head with my hooves trying to desperately hunker down. I could hear the walls behind me struggle to maintain their integrity as the onslaught continued.

Until it stopped, just as suddenly as it began.

A split second of reprieve prompted all of us to scramble back downstairs, looking for a way out in the back.

A door leading to the back alleys where me and Rain were chased earlier was spotted wide open. Rain cautiously peeked both ways, before prompting us to follow him. The alley in question had rows of wooden fences—some mangled, some not—potruding from various doors of other apartments.

The three of us hunkered behind one of these fences, masks still on all of us. By this point, I was exhausted, sweaty, and struggling to process with everything thats happened. It was hard to catch my breath.

“Wait,” Rain suddenly raised a hoof to stop us, “Hold on a sec.”

The three of us immediately got as low to the ground as possible.

Rain, with great reluctance and caution, took off his mask just barely to sniff the air.

“... It’s clean here,” he announces with some shock, taking off his mask in full. “The air is fresh.”

Syringe and I exchanged a double take, before proceeding to take off our masks. And much to my astonishment as well, the air was (relatively) fresh.

“Okay, let’s just… catch our breaths for a moment here.” Rain announced as he slags down against the fence in fatigue. “I need a minute.”

“Same,” Syringe agrees.

All of us were sitting down with our backs against the wall, trying to recover from everything in a brief respite before continuing on. The gunfire heard from battle was echoing off the walls, but was losing their audible power to make it not as punishing on my poor ears.

I wish the army had invested in ear plugs.

“This is crazy,” Rain broke the silence, “even after the explosions, they still fuck us up.”

“Okay okay, listen,” I spoke in between my breaths, “I saw Pumpkin on the roof of the Palace earlier. I don’t know if he is still alive or where the fuck he is, but I know I saw him.”

“You sure it ain’t just a bug, disguised as him?” Rain asked.

I paused.

“... I hadn’t thought of that before, but… he wasn’t trying to shoot ahead, he was shooting down. At the bugs as well, so… I don’t think that’s the case.”

“... Okay, if he isn’t—which is unlikely—but if he isn’t; then we rendezvous with him and find our way inside together. Then we try and get the job done.”

“What about Brass and the others?”

This question paused Rain as well, as he gave no shift in his expression except for a singular hard blink.

“If there is one thing I can give Brass credit for, it’s that she is resourceful. She can get the job done with whoever she has as well. She will have to manage on her own.

“Right now, we need to focus on keeping ourselves alive.”

“I agree,” Syringe acquiesced with a slight frown. “I don’t want to abandon them on account of my Hippocratic oath, but… I’m also no good to them dead.”

Both of them, gave me a wary look, expecting resistance, but hoping for compliance.

“... Okay then. Your call, Rain.” I nodded to him.

He nods back. “We move cover to cover, and don’t fly unless we have to. We get as close as we can to the Palace without getting caught, and we find a way to get inside. When we approach, we frag the fuck out of it and clear our way inside.

“How many smoke grenades do you guys have?”

I did a count, alongside Syringe.

“I got two.” Syringe answered.

“One for me.” I answered.

“And that leaves me with two as well.” Rain answered. “We throw them into the enemy positions to cover our advance.”

“Sounds good.” Syringe agrees by grabbing hold of her weapon.

“Hey, hey,” Rain drop stops all of us before we got up.

“We may die here today.”

His somber words left both me and Syringe in stunned silence, as it came out of nowhere.

“... But before we do, let’s kill as many of these fuckers as we can, okay?”

Me and Syringe gave another double take at one another. Syringe was the first to nod, before I followed.

“Yeah. I’m with you. Let’s do it,” Syringe complied by cocking another round in the chamber.

All of us quickly got to work.

We slowly trotted along the alley way until we made our way towards the edge. There we saw the edges of the Palace with its gaping holes now being covered by Changelings firing from inside.

I glancecd upward at the roof and saw no Changeling nor Pony occupying it.

“Ready smokes, throw them at the hole.” Rain Drop orders, all of us fetching them out and ready to pull the pins.

“Now!”

Each of us hurls it with our hooves as far as physically possible, all three of them landing just shy of the landfill at the bottom of the hole.

“Now on the streets in front of us!” he orders, and again we threw them at the road. They landed a few meters in front of us.

A tense half-minute passes until the white vapor billows enough to create a thick screen for us to move through. Another half minute passes, and the hole is now being smothered as well as some of the windows.

“Masks on!” Rain Drop orders again, each of us doing so as we steeled ourselves.

“On my go!” Rain holds up three feathers of his wing and counts down.

Three.

Two.

One.

“GO!”

Each of us sprinted off as fast as our hooves could carry us. We booked it straight across the streets, aiming for the gaping hole inside.

We each took cover behind an over turned automobile when the bullets eventually started to fly over us.

“FRAGS!” Rain yells, fetching one out with his wings and deftly igniting and throwing the projectile within five seconds. Me and Syringe managed to do it in about ten seconds.

Each of them hit their mark, landing in the hole one after the other, detonating inside to unleash their fury.

“GO!” Rain Screams, and again we charged forward. The bullets were not flying at us as intensely as we saw some of our Olenian Comrades inching forward despite the casualties.

Rain was the first to enter, as he lets loos a barrage of bullets inside while floating up and firing from the hip with his Machine Gun. Syringe and me respectively followed suit.

I saw what he was aiming at as my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness of inside, seeing Changelings fleeing away from the hole as we took aim. Many of them fell and didn’t make it.

“Reloading!” Rain yells as he takes cover inside. Syringe and I cover the hallways as he feeds another magazine.

A Changeling attempts to fire an SMG wildly in our direction, while peeking from a door down the hall.

Syringe disposed him in a single shot to the head, and he collapses.

“Good to go!” Syringe announces as both of us scrambled our way inside.

“More up the stairs!” I yelled out as I stood behind Rain against a wall.

Syringe took to the other side of the hall, looking inward.

Rain peeked, and I heard a burst of fire from above. Bullets landed near Syringe, prompting her to hunker in as Rain retaliated.

I heard a shrill scream, followed by constand thumping. A body then tumbles into view from the stairs, and Syringe plants another bullet in the head.

“Down!” Syringe’s muffled voice yells, cocking another bullet.

I heard whistles blowing behind me coming from outside, followed by another orchestra of shouting.

Syringe looked back at the hole, her mask obscuring her features. “The Olenians are coming!” I hear her shout.

“Finally!” Rain cheers. “Sunshine, clear the stairs, I got the hallway. Syringe, you get the door to your left! Let’s go!”

Each of us got to work as I galloped a short distance towards the stairs as fast as possible. Floating up with my weapon trained resulted in no hostiles around the wooden stairs.

“Stairs is clear!”

Rain and Syringe began to sprint on my shout, getting up top quickly as Olenians ascended up the slope behind us.

Their masks hid their expressions, but their suspicion of me was not unnoticed.

“VELVET, VELVET!” I screamed at them. A tense second passes before a nod was given in reply, followed by a hoof gesture to signal the rest to move up.

Bratatatata!

Rain’s gun sounding off gave me a start as I quickly turned with my weapon raised. He laid prone above the stairs covering the hallway, and Syringe was watching his back with her weapon on the doorways.

“Got one!” Rain sounded off, as he scrambled up to stack up against a door.

Syringe and me followed suit respectively, with me watching our rear as I heard each of them reload.

When they were done, I did the same. As I was doing so, I heard hoofstomps from below.

Several Olenians ascended up the stairs, and began to stack up against a different door across from us.

There was a tense moment. I turned around, and Rain had seen them too.

“... On Three!” He yells in plain Ponish. A nod was given, they were waiting.

Rain counted once again with the feathers of his wings.

One.

Two.

“Three!”

Rain the Olenians bucked the doors open with our back hooves. Rain managed to do it clean in one go, the Olenians were still struggling last I saw them before breaching inside.

The room was littered with damaged and knocked-over desks, chairs, and paintings as the tank blast had almost destroyed everything in here, with the foundation somehow still standing after said tank blasts.

No living Changelings in the room we were in, but I saw corpses of them near the windows followed by shouting further ahead.

One of them turned the corner with their weapon raised, taking a pot shot that missed horribly at us. Rain laid down a barrage from the hip with his gun, prompting the bug to fall back.

Rain then dove down near the bodies, scrambling towards them to pat them down as me and Syringe covered the doorway.

The bug’s rifle was aiming out, but his body was covered. Burst fire from my SMG at best made him flinch, but it did not deter him.

A shot rang out, and my heart dropped as he quickly retreated back into cover. I waited for a cry of pain, or help, or… anything from Rain.

Instead of hearing him, I saw a grenade fly from where he was earlier.

A scream was heard from in the doorway.

Kra-Boom!

Splinters and Shrapnel dart across the room, some flying past my head as I got down as low as I could.

More screaming was heard from within by the Changeling. I looked up to see Rain already standing at the doorway aiming down, firing one bullet.

The screams stopped.

“Clear!”

Syringe and I got a move on, vaulting over desks to stack up next to Rain.

The door to our right led to another gaping hole blown open by the tank, the floors collapsed downward along with their occupants.

The left door lead to an open room with windows facing eastward. The Changeling on the floor was missing their forehooves, harboring many incisions and deep gashes that showed bone.

“Masks off!” Rain yells, as he swiftly follows his own advice. Sniffing the air once gave me all the information I need to follow his advice; Clean oxygen, excluding the smell of copper and gunpowder.

“Okay, we clear this place—room by room—until we find what the Olenians are looking for first. No fucking around.” Rain planned aloud with both of us.

“Yeah that sounds good.” I replied quickly, looking away from the gristly sight.

We moved towards the leftmost door, stepping over the deceased bug and clearing the room ahead. We heard more gunfire from below our floor alongside Olenian shouting.

A doorway leading to a hall going Northward showed an Olenian Squad advancing carefully forward, nodding to us in acknowledgment as they stacked up on several doors and began clearing them.

Further ahead of them laid a badly damaged room from Rain’s Satchel going off near the ammunition depot, with the walls missing but the floors (barely) standing.

No shots rang out from the Olenians near us, only shouts.

The three of us moved along this hall and Rain quickly got upstairs to the third floor, trying to find the Broadcast room the Olenians were after.

“You think it might have been destroyed by the blast outside?”

“I hope not.” Rain answered honestly, gun swiveling around carefully as he cleared the empty hall above us.

“We got bugs to our right.” Rain quietly spoke to us.

A sort of Battlement-looking Hallway was protruding Westward to our right, going all the way to the other side of the building as many Changeling bodies were now lying under the windows, but there were still some with rifles taking shots down below.

Rain carefully laid down behind a pillar near a vertice, gun loaded and ready.

“Check your ammo, make these shots count on my go.” Rain quietly orders.

Syringe reloads a few rounds, and I check which magazine I hadn’t touched yet. Only one fresh mag left. I loaded that one in.

“On my go.”

Each of us took aim, giving one another space. They never noticed us.

Bratatatatatatatatata!

Rain’s weapon sounded off ferociously as red tracers pierced through the chitin of several changelings. Syringe’s rifle sounded off next to me and I squezzed short bursts downward at the ones panicking to retreat. Only one of them managed to get away, but about five to seven of them were cut down.

“Clear!”

“One of them got away!” Me and Rain sounded off at each other.

“Vhich Vay?”

A voice speaking broken Ponish sounded off from an Olenian downstairs.

“Vich vay did zey go?”

“West! Go! West!” Rain replied back, speaking slowly.

He nods back, speaking his natural tongue back to his comrades as he beckons them to join him.

“Can’t go down that way, too much of a Killzone in case they are on the other side.” Rain warns us as he peeks out again.

Sure enough, a single round snaps past us from the other side at an obscured angle.

“We go around,” Rain orders as he turns back north to the other end of the building. The further he went along, the more damaged the rooms became in lieu of his work.

None of the windows were spare; furniture was overturned; and the walls, floors, and ceilings were riddled with holes of fragmentation as splintered remains were littered everywhere.

But none of them bared any particular importance regarding City-Wide Transmission capabilities; they seemed like blank-slated office rooms. Some of them might have been military-related by the Changelings. If so, some of this information was lost forever due to the blast.

We kept moving, carefully peeking over to see through one of the windows at Rain’s work.

A massive crater, probably about ten pony lengths deep and ten more lengths wide, ruptured the earth in a mighty creation of destruction. The sky had tinted blood red from the sunset overhead.

Neither any of the garden patches or leftover military infrastructure had survived the blast.

Tattered remains of fences still burning were seen spreading their flames to the grassy patches behind them.

No Changelings were in sight.

“Sweet mother of mercy.” Syringe muttered to herself as we all kept moving along.

The hall we were in bore no more staircases leading upward, and the rooms were far too damaged to have any significance. And no more Changelings were found here neither.

Until we turned the corner, and found our previous survivor still watching the same hallway we previously gunned down.

A single shot from Syringe’s rifle to the head dispatched him.

Clearing the rooms of this hallway resulted in nothing, however. We merely found guest bedrooms.

One room, however, stood out. The Master Bedroom.

It had a King-Sized mattress that looked like it was worn down beyond repair, with semi-clean sheets to boot.

But beyond that, there were several makeshift cubicles planned across the room. There was a small safe tucked between a nightstand table and the mattress, looking particularly conspicuous. It had a combination lock, and looked sturdy enough to withstand explosives.

These small cubicles each harbored a typewriter and small desks to store paperwork in, some of which was lying around in the open. Syringe was idly looking at one of these as me and Rain cleared the room.

“Anything interesting?” I asked aloud.

“... If you find daily reports counting ammunition counting going into excruciating detail about the specifics of each gun of each ammo type that is being store here ‘interesting,’ then yes.”

“You coulda just said no.” Rain griped.

“This must have been the head officer’s room, the one in charge of the Garrison of the whole city.”

I looked around at the giant bed that was much too large for a singular creature, even the Princess wouldn’t take up the whole space of this bed.

“Seems opulent for their tastes.”

“You’d be surprised.” Rain mutters. “But there’s nothing here for us, or the Olenians.”

“What about the safe?”

We each took a look at the safe that Syringe mentioned and pulled out, sitting on the floor.

“... We got bigger fish to fry right now. Our Olenian friends still need our help.” Rain dismisses, reloading another magazine in his weapon. “We can come back for it later.”

“Fine,” she acquiesced, “Your lead then.”

Bam!

The three of us had never had our weapons trained on that door as fast as we did at that moment when whoever bucked it opened rudely interrupted our conversation.

And to our surprise, it was a Crimson Coated Mare. Brass Screws, followed by, Dominoes, and Morning Dew.

“... Shit, you guys are here already?” Brass asked in astonishment.

“What the fuck kept you?” Rain asked bitterly.

“... Nevermind. Good to see you.” Brass quietly greets.

“Is this all of us?” Syringe asked aloud as the rest entered the doorway.

Everyone's here, except... “Where’s Pumpkin?” I asked aloud.

“... Dead.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Found him on the roof. Shot in the face.”

I looked at Syringe and Rain, each as perplexed as me.

That was when I noticed Morning without her pack on.

“Where’s your radio?” Rain asked the question for me.

“Got fried by shrapnel by the blast you made. It only slowed me down, so I had to ditch it.”

“... Sorry?”

“Don’t be; at least the Olenians heard my signal before it happened.”

“Okay, focus.” Brass announced, taking command once more. “Rain, did you find anything while—”

“No, nothing about the broadcast station, or about what we are looking for.”

“Dammit!” Brass swears. “We nearly searched this place top to bottom, and haven’t found shit!”

“... Not everything.” Syringe pipes up.

She then points to the safe we found. “This was here when we secured the room. Might have something in there.”

Each of us inspected the safe, closing the door behind us and locking it as we did so. It barely managed to do so, due to Brass’s violent bucking.

It was small, barely about half of a barrel’s size. But it was heavy and thick.

“Wait,” Dominoes then pipes up, inspecting the combination of the safe door.

“... I know how to open this.” He says as he knocks on it a couple of times.

“Yeah, I don’t think satchels are going to spare the contents inside if we try that method.” Rain points out with a slight jest.

“No no no, it's the lock.”

“What about it?” Brass asked.

“It’s the weak link in the structure. I don’t need to guess the combo; I can just cut it open.”

He then shrugs off his saddlebags and fishes out a few things; a Welding Mask, hoof-gloves, and a Blowtorch.

“Stand back, give me some space,” he announces as he gets to work. Pulling the mask down and turning on the torch, a White-hot flame protrudes from the torch in a narrow jetstream. When it made contact with the metal, sparks began to fly and land on the bed. Some of the embers were starting to catch fire in the bed sheets, prompting Rain and Morning to frantically put it out by smothering the flame, folding sheets atop themselves to do so.

“Dominoes—”

“Almost done!” He interrupts Brass as more sparks begin flying.

Just as suddenly as it began, the embers then stopped flying as the safe's door cracked and fell open with a horrid metallic groan. Aside from the poor sheets, the room otherwise survived.

“Done,” he announced as he shut off the torch.

Gleaming golden metal shines back at us, and stacks of valuables and paperwork are neatly organized. There were golden ingots, bracelets, necklaces, and even teeth stacked inside miniaturized compartments at the bottom half of the safe.

Rain let out a low whistle.

“That’s worth a loooot of Bits, there.” Rain whistled.

“Hundreds of thousands...” Dominoes idly remarked with some shock in his tone.

Brass was (somewhat) undeterred by the wealth and instead grabbed hold of the paperwork stored inside, stacked neatly inside clean Manilla Folders thick enough to contain a novelette.

“Syringe, you‘re good at reading Changeling. Can you find anything interesting?” Brass asks, handing the folder to the former. She opens it with her wingtips and quickly scans the pages for information.

“Uh… some of this is redacted. Let's see…”

A tense few seconds passed as some of us took positions, covering the door and the windows outside.

“... Uh, yada yada inadequate personnel, supply issues, low morale… It seems like a list of requests.” She turns the page. “Requests for aid and soldiers to fill in the gaps of the Garrison. Apparently, they don’t trust the Queen’s Guard, hence the Jeager Division being stationed here.”

“Anything that can help us?” Brass eagerly asks.

“Not really. Most of this is redacted, I can’t seem to… wait, hang on.” she suddenly reads slowly, carefully inspecting the lines of the pages.

“‘Due to… inadequate personnel, the project will have no choice but to suspend delivery of your expected shipment to next week…’ Lemme see…” she flips back to the front page. “That was... three days ago now… they expect that delivery sometime this week. Which means…”

“It’s still here…” Brass finishes the sentence. My heart sped up along those words. “Any indication as to where it is?”

“Uh… some kind of special holding room it says. Classified, though. Not even the commander of the Garrison is in the ‘need-to-know’ loop on this.”

“... What if it's like Vanhoover?” Morning asks aloud. "Could be another underground spot."

“What, does every Palace and Administration Building have its own basement to hide secret documents and weapons in?” Rain asks in jest.

“Actually, yes.” Brass answered. “Most of those buildings have sub-layers included. I haven’t been in one in all my life that doesn’t have a basement.”

“... So we try the Basement then?” Morning suggests.

“Good as shot as any. Where do we find it, though?” Syringe asks.

Nopony had an answer for that.

“Whatever, we will find it on our own. We found the one in Vanhoover on our own; that's how we started this whole shitshow. We can find it.” Rain encouraged us.

“He’s right, we will have to make do.” Brass agrees. “For now, though, we clear the building and wait for—”

Wzzt-Bzzt-SCREEECH!

Electronic feedback from an amplified source was heard from outside. Though muffled, I could hear the loudspeakers in front of the Palace with a deafening blare of tinny but patriotic-sounding music playing for all to hear. The song lasted for about half a minute before a voice replaced it.

“Friends, Family, Soldiers, and Countryfolk of Olenia, lend me your ears! I have come to you with words of fraternity and liberation! For today, I ask you to heed the call of duty and finally rise up against your oppressors!"

Each of us were now standing in the halls, listening out the windows as the speech continued to enrapture our attention.

“For too long has the fair nation of Olenia been oppressed by the yoke of tyranny. First it came from the debauchment of our nobility when our King submitted to the Evil Queen Chrysalis, only for that tyranny to be hence replaced by an even more terrible one.

“First, they took away your country, your place of home! Then they took away your homes, your place of safety! Then they took your Liberty, your sacred birthright! Then they took away your friends, your loved ones, your family! They took away EVERYTHING!”

“But Today? Today, you will show them, and you will show the whole world! That they have not taken away our fighting spirit! They have not taken away our will to resist! They have not taken away our chances of victory!

“Today, I ask of you to rise up in resistance! Be you at home in your cabin in the country side, take up your family’s rifle and join the fight! Be you in Sakara, Cervus, or Vaverfront, oppressed by our overlords—take to the streets and resist! Be you afraid of death, cast aside your doubts for your finest hour is now!

“Brave soldiers of the resistance, who have been carrying the torch of this fight for as long as they have, I ask of you to show the way of our brothers and sisters! Show them how to fight the good fight, lest we wish to be forever snuffed in darkness!

“I swear to you, brave soldiers of Olenia, for as long as you shall live, for as long as Harmony lives, for as long as the resistance carrys on, we shall not abandon you! We shall be by your side! We shall be together in martial harmony once again!

“For today, Olenia is reborn!

“For today, Olenaia is ready!

“For today, Olenia prevails!”

Rapturous cheering was heard below, and outside the Palace floor, we stood. And I saw Olenians outside throwing their hooves up in celebration as they had won what they had sacrificed so much for.

And like a snap of a finger to bring me out of a dream, I felt my adrenaline wane and my body collapse from exhaustion.

Syringe rushed over to help me up as several other ponies in the squad visibly relaxed.

“Holy shit. They actually found it.” Rain praised, with jubilant, genuine laughter wheezing from his throat. “They fucking did it!”

He wrapped his arms around the nearest pony he could find, which happened to be Dominoes. The latter joined in on the laughter, albeit reluctantly.

“You hurt?” Syringe asked me.

“No, just… tired.” I sighed.

My mind drifted to Pumpkin. To the olenian in the hole. To the crevice of brain matter staring back at me.

Nausea wracks my stomach, alongside the guilt wrangling it.

“Let’s not go galavanting in celebration just yet,” Brass announces over the cheers, “We still have a bomb to find."

“Hey, I think I found something!”

The search for the basement entrance had spanned for about a half-hour before Rain finally yelled out. We had descended down floor by floor as we encountered nothing but dead and surrendering changelings. All of the POWs were to be transferred to the Bastion by the resistance’s orders.

Dusk had fallen over the city, casting long shadows over the streets as darkness was coming soon. The battle southward with our pony brethren was still ongoing but was starting to die down. I couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad sign.

But eventually, we made our way into the throne room. Corinthian Columns stood tall to the ceiling; ornate molding of Deer Heads with Antlers, the Entablature, the Capital, the Base, and the Pillar itself were all carved with such precision that only a perfectionist would possess.

Or at least, they were. It had long since been repaired or maintained by any skilled enough Artisan to restore it to its former glory. Grime had covered the pillars, the mold of the heads was damaged and vandalized, painted glass windows had shattered a long time ago, and the structure had cracks stretching all the way into the ceiling.

But what helped us wasn’t the throne room itself, but rather the rooms behind it.

Behind the King’s throne—an opulent but ruined piece of work, much like the rest of the throne room—lay an Ogee Arch with a small cylindrical roof vault leading to a series of rooms connected via vaults leading further underground.

The council room was further along the dining room, the kitchen, and several pantries, which were littered with a lot of paperwork, maps, reports, and so on—a treasure trove of information.

“Holy shit, it's a gold mine.” Brass appraises.

“... Huh.” I voiced aloud.

“What?” Syringe asks me quietly.

“Nothing, just… Déjà vu.”

“What the fuck is all of this?” Rain asked with a hint of worry in his tone.

“Looks like an operations room. Wouldn't they try to destroy this?” Dominoes asks.

“No, look, it’s all untouched. Shit’s still here. I got maps, timestamps, and inventory ledgers.” Rain listed off.

I was gazing upon maps of the frontlines stretching from Mead Lake to the coast when I heard a voice shout.

“Holy shit, what is this?” Dominoes asks aloud as Syringe peeks over his shoulder.

“Is that… an engine?” Syringe asks.

“Looks like it… like a giant propeller.”

I made my way over to see the blueprint in question. It looked like a Gondola. Morning Dew got a look at it. I noticed her eyes go wide.

Before I could ask about it, I heard Rain behind me yell.

“Hey, come look at this!”

Each of us scrambled to see a large topographic map of the West coast of the Continent Equus, stretching from Sakara in Olenia to Stableside in Southern Equestria.

The cities near the coastlines and mountain ranges were circled with red markers, while most of the Olenian cities were already ‘X’d out.

“Look's like a target map. I got marks on… Vanhoover, Acornage, the Shire, Las Pegasus, Stableside, Tall Tale-”

“They are targeting every major metropolitan area.” Brass mutters darkly. “Alright! I want all of the important shit bagged and tagged. Syringe, I need you to determine which is important and what is going to be left to the Olenians, got it?”

“On it!”

“Everyone else, find every map and blueprint you can find and secure it!”

“I got maps of all the cities right here!” Rain diligently announced as he rolled up some scrolls and folded some documents.

“Wait, what fuck is this?” He suddenly quips.

“What, you got something good?”

“Something… It's weird. It’s a… it’s some kind of Itinerary.”

“Lemme see!” Syringe yanks it out with haste, quickly skimming the lines as she scans the page.

“Uh… oh shit… it’s a bombing mission scheduled for next week!”

“Is it about the bomb?!” Rain and Brass spoke simultaneously.

“I-I dunno, hold on! It’s…” She scans as fast as she can. “It says… Ai-Ay-Aee... what the fuck is that word?”

“Lemme see!” Brass grabs the paper violently, eyes skimming faster than Syringe's.

“... Ai… Aigion?”

The room goes quiet.

“What the fuck is Aigion?” Brass asks aloud.

“No… Wait! I heard of this before!” Morning backs up, horror etched on her features.

“What is it?”

“Syringe, when and where is that itinerary going?” Morning asks the million-bit question.

Syringe grabs the paper and reads it carefully.

“Uh... five days from now and…”

Her eyes go wide.

“... Canterlot.”

Silence.

“... Aigaion’s Next Target is going to Canterlot.”

“What the fuck is Aigion?” Brass asks again.

“We need to go.” Morning urges with haste. “My family is in Canterlot! I-we-we have to—”

“What. Is. Aigion?!” Brass asks again with firm authority.

“It’s an Airship! You heard about the fire-bombing of Las Pegasus, haven't you?”

Each of us nodded.

“The airship was there! It aided in its destruction, and its never alone! It always has an armada of aircraft supporting it! If that same ship that destroyed Las Pegasus gets to Canterlot, I—”

She starts to hyperventilate. “... M-my mom and dad, they-they aren’t safe, they-they-”

My heart was starting to thunder in my chest.

“Morning, deep breaths!” Syringe orders as Morning Dew struggled to calm down.

The rest of us were silent.

“... The bomb is not here.”

“... What?” Rain asks aloud as Brass mutters.

“The bomb was never here in the first place.”

“Then what the fuck have we been searching for!?”

Brass scrambles around the table again, inspecting the Gondola blueprint we had found earlier.

“... This. This was their shipment.”

“But, that's…” Rain stuttered to find reason in this.

“It makes sense… The renovations, the upgrades, the intolerance to failure, all of the reports we’ve read about a secret shipment… This is it.

“Aigion is supposed to be upgraded with these blueprints.”

My heart's thundering crescendoed as it threatened to boil over in panic. “B-but what about the bomb? If not here, then where is it?!" I asked.

“I don’t know!” Brass frustratingly admits. “But this is something we can’t ignore!”

“And the Olenians? How are we going to tell them about this? How are we going to—”

“We will tell the truth.” Brass interjects.

“... What?”

“We will tell them everything. We will tell them why we are here, and what we found instead. And then, we find our way back home to Vanhoover, Blueprint and plans in tow. We must bring this back.”

The air of tension had threatened to suffocate us. But there was a mute, sobering agreement to this reality we were in.

We were in a race against the clock.

And we had a head start.