"He wasted time describing their capital." Pharynx frowned as he sat beside the table that held all those world leaders. "It's a mess. Their people are..." He cringed softly. "It... Is that what is happening to him?!" He drove a hoof against the floor. "It's empty, especially of the important people. 'Commander Force', that's the name everyone talks about being in charge. The council's gone, right at the center of the blast."

Thorax tilted his head. "Is that what they usually call their kings?"

Novo shook her head. "They have a council, ruled by a chairman that is both voted by and voted off by that council." She took a slow breath, letting it out slowly. "There just aren't council meetings without the chairman. If he wasn't there when it was destroyed... That's very unusual."

Celestia was looking at Novo with naked surprise.

"What? I have been putting more effort into knowing what the rest of the world is doing." She fixed her eyes on Rason. "I blame you and your people. The world is becoming smaller, and I can't afford to ignore everyone else anymore. They're all my neighbors, like it or not."

Cadance softly nodded. "This I can agree with. Even the yaks are... relatively... less reclusive."

Luna looked across to Ruddertail. "It would seem you were wrong, but so were we. All signs point now firmly to America not being behind this attack."

Ruddertail crossed her arms with a soft huff. "Good, we focus on winning then? My warriors storming their beaches. Brave warriors, good fighting." She smiled with a chuckle emerging from deep within her. "Stupid bulls. Thank you for good weapons."

Ruddertail's forces counted in the thousands, compared to the hundreds of the same that America could field. They were, on the other hand, completely amphibious. They emerged from the waters, transitioning from swimming to a full run with scarcely a pause between the two. The guns were still pivoting towards them when they were halfway up the beach.

A great lance of energy reduced a handful to slurry, but there were others, approaching in a wide semi-circle towards the turret.

A jet soared overhead. The timing hadn't been planned, exactly, but it worked out quite well, bombs dropping on the turret that attempted to defend itself from ground invaders. The shield was reduced to ash and the shell of the turret was bashed, cement dust filling the air.

It began to turn towards the jet, realizing the greater danger, but it was far too late. The otters had arrived. Held firmly in their hands were American weapons, given for the task. Automated fire opened as they began peppering the structure with fire. One rushed forward and slammed down a load just beside the access door before manically fleeing. An instant later an explosion rocked the entire area, the door knocked clear off its hinges.

With a roar of victory, they charged inside to butcher any enemy combatant they could find inside the turret.

Starlight paddled madly through the water, looking for Twilight. It struck her and she groaned as magic sped her forward, cursing herself silently for not thinking of it sooner. There! A slowly descending form was just ahead of her. She stretched her head forward as if streamlining could make all the difference, willing herself faster.

It worked a bit too well, crashing into Twilight with a grunt. She wrapped her arms and legs around her unconscious friend. With a rush of magic, they both vanished, just to appear in the air above the ocean, Twilight's limp form in Starlight's firm grip. Starlight was heaving for air with her effort, but Twilight was silent. "Dang it..." She looked around for land from where they were floating, but not a single scrap was in sight. "Dang it..."

She twirled once in the air before picking a direction half at random, sailing in that direction as she worked Twilight around to be on top of her instead of being clutched in her hooves. "You're not allowed to die, you hear me? You die and you failed the test, and I know you don't like failing tests, so no dying out of you, young mare."

"Black." They were both out of ammo. They were two soldiers with daggers.

Hoku let out his breath in a silent motion, his eyes glancing towards where their squadmate had run off towards. "Stay low. Be quiet."

They were useless as they were. Attempting to charge the enemy would just add two more corpses to the field. They hunkered low and went silent. They could hear the enemy advancing, steps on the abused ground. The smoke was clearing, the conflict on that side over.

Only about a half a dozen enemies emerged from the smoke. They had expected more of them. Had they wounded or killed so many, or had there just been so few of them to start?

Another rushed to join them, the weasel from before hurrying up to their line, waving his one remaining sword and looking like he was complaining.

Another creature, a fox, waved off the weasel and pointed forward towards where the fighting still raged behind Hoku. They were going to attack a vulnerable flank. Hoku's grip on his dagger tightened, reconsidering making a mad dash, as futile as it would be.

He swung around, a brush against his shoulders causing him to react without thought. He had his dagger up against his missing squaddie, blinking rapidly. "Where come from?" he harshly whispered, lowering the dagger.

"You're welcome." He tossed a magazine towards the sharpshooter and offered another to Hoku. "Got all there is to get, took the long way around to minimize the chance of playing catch with death rays or bullets."

"Good work." Hoku got his gun loaded and primed. "We have stop." He tossed his head towards the advancing seven. "Out open, maybe best." Their pause in firing was perhaps the best thing that could have happened. "Line shot, make count." He raised his gun into position, secured against the ground as he took his best aim.

"Defend your country," the poster had said. "Be a hero!" The young bull nodded as he jogged towards the recruitment office. He wasn't an especially talented calf. He wasn't sure what he'd do with his life, but if he could get into the army, he'd be doing good, for all his people, and being paid to do it.

Win win, right? He'd heard of the humans, making strange waves far across the ocean. They were recruiting all the more heavily. He'd get in, he hoped. He wasn't the strongest bull around, or the cleverest... But he could protect people and follow directions.

They gave him a physical that he passed, barely. "Good thing they just lowered these," the physician had laughed, sending him on his way. He'd get better, he assured himself. He had to. They'd run him around and he'd improve and get fit and everyone would be amazed at his condition.

He signed the papers declaring his intent. Four years. He could manage four years, then he'd be free to do whatever he wanted, in a far better position than when he'd started. He'd be able to start his life off right.

"Trainee Trial!" barked his commander and drill sergeant. "We need 30 seconds off your lap time. Get back out there and do it again until you get it right!"

Trial went right back to running, determined to succeed.

The news of the Americans was getting louder, even in training. They were the possible end of the world, and they, the trainees, were becoming the force that could stop them. The Storm King? A laughable distraction in comparison. The bulls would have to take off the blinders, they said. They would have to step out onto the world stage and save everyone else.

They were the last line of defense for an ignorant world. Other nations were grinning stupidly and letting the far superior forces of the new nation run them over, trampling their trade, trampling their culture, and threatening with weapons of staggeringly horrifying magnitude, only getting smiles from the others.

How could the other nations be so stupid? Trial didn't get it, but he would be a proud member of the bulwark against it. He would protect their nation, and the entire world. It had worked well for them, even with little bumps like the Storm King. Heck, the ponies had taken care of that, of all the nations that could have.

Theirs was a good world, with good people. They did not need these new aliens rushing in and destroying all they had worked for countless moons to have.

Speaking of the Storm King... "Did you hear?" One of his other trainees had asked him. "They're in the Storm King's lands, taking it over."

"What? No!"

"Yes!" The other bull slammed his hands together loudly. "As if they couldn't be more nakedly obvious in their aggression, there they are, forcing people to stand in lines to be fed, where they have to pledge allegiance just to get a day's food."

"Horrible..." They weren't bulls, but even they deserved more dignity than that. "Are they threatening them?"

"No weapons, that's the worst part."

"How's that worse?"

"They operate under threats of starvation and disease." The other trainee scowled. "If they don't behave as they want them to, they promise to take it all away. They have nothing, what do they say? Of course they play along!"

How insidious...

When the word came down looking for a volunteer to help liberate the people of the Storm King's nation, Trial was one of the first to raise a hand. They congratulated him on his bravery and willingness to serve. They shipped him out the next day, where he met up with other creatures of the TSDI along the way.

"Terrible," hissed a snake of a person, checking the ammunition of his firearm. "Our job is simple at least."

Trial nodded softly. "Yes. We go in, we scare off their overseers. We liberate the Storm King's people, and they'll call us heroes." Because they would be heroes, of course. "Poor people... They deserve better than this. They've been through so much."

"They were foolish to be taken by that king," grunted a bear. "It's still unfair that the humans are taking more advantage of them."

Hands went out in solidarity, fist against fist against fist, the unit of one mind to free the people and drive off the Americans that were enslaving them.

They landed just off the beach and stormed down the ramp. It would be a fine day to do good.

It would also be Trial's last day breathing, sniped from behind by a pony he never knew was there. He was dimly aware of the world as it faded, somehow holding onto fleeting edges of life. He could hear shouting, gunfire, and steps in the sands around him. He couldn't move. It didn't hurt, he couldn't feel anything. He could just hear, and even that was fading, becoming quieter and quieter.

At least he had tried his best.

Back home, his face was used much as the one that killed him. They both became martyrs to the cause. A brave young calf of a bull tried so hard to make the world a better place and died trying. That was the dedication that would be required if the minotaur council was to survive the next year.

More bulls replaced him, each imagining they would have done something different, that they wouldn't have died in Trial's position and would have won through the day. They would succeed where he failed and return as heroes, living heroes.

When word came that their very country was being invaded, emotions flared. The EFC had shown its true intent. They were not playing defensively, they were attacking. They would be met with resolution and would crash against the hard stones of minotaur will.

For their way of life, they would fight.

Author's Notes:

Since someone had asked, we see a slice of the enemy's PoV. From their angle, they are doing good things. Such is the way of war, and propaganda.

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