Everypony in Ponyville was sleeping under the rays of the moon, brought by Princess Luna. Everypony felt safe under the light that the Moon Princess brought them.

Two ponies were asleep under the moonlight, experiencing the pure bliss of the moon. One had cotton-candy pink hair, and experienced more energy per second than the whole west side of Sesaddle did a decade. The other was a bit calmer. Though a Pegasus, she was more down to earth than a standard Earth pony.
In a hut, secluded in a massive forest, the lone Zebra was asleep for the first time in days. As she turned over in her bed, the tome she had read flipped some pages from the slight breeze that came in through her open window.

In a cloud home, a grey Pegasus’ mouth was twitching, dreaming of Equestria’s Largest Muffin, being slowly devoured by the wall-eyed Pegasus.
Elsewhere, an orange pony was in her tree house, Stetson hat safely guarded under her left forelock. Her legs twitched, as she was dreaming of chasing a herd of cows away from Ponyville.

At the edge of the Apple farm, there sat a wonderful dress shop, where the pony in charge had fallen asleep at her sewing machine. Her hoof rested on the foot pedal lightly enough to keep the machine from feeding the fabric in too fast, but heavy enough to give a low, reassuring whirrrrrrrrr.

A young Pegasus with a mane in every hue was asleep on a cloud bed, close to the Librarian’s home, and her safety measure mere feet from her.

The librarian’s favorite book was clutched in her hoof, but still was dangling precariously off her bed, as her young assistant was asleep at her feet, exhausted by today’s work.

Down below in the basement was the only sign of life; a red fox was hunched over a piece of parchment, furiously scribbling out a math problem. His son, just a few heads shorter than him, was sleeping as peacefully as one could, face buried in his arms.

The red fox added a small ingredient to a small cauldron, bubbling away a concoction that held the answer. He turned to a machine that was humming and beeping away. Two wires connected the machine to the cauldron, where fiber optic cables transferred information.

It was there, in the basement of Ponyville Library, the red fox tapped a few more grams of a substance into the small cauldron bubbling away, next to the machine whirring and beeping.

He pulled a small syringe from a bag, filled it with the light blue concoction, and then pulled a container towards him with a rat, eyes blood-red from a disease.

It was there the calm night was shattered.

“Skorpeon!” Twilight Sparkle raced down the stairs. A massive yell had woken her from a peaceful sleep. It took her a moment to realize it came from her own basement.
The purple unicorn opened the door, and, without even looking at the stairs, jumped over the hand rail, landing neatly by the silver fox, his goggled slightly askew from the angle of his face.
“Twilight! Skorpeon handed her a rat, “Can you guess what specimen this is?”
Twilight telekinetically took the rat, her purple aura enveloping it so that it hung limply, like a kit in its mother’s mouth.
“It’s obviously not one that’s been injected…” she said, unsure of the silver fox, which had mysteriously arrived.
Skorpeon’s face fell. “Not injected?” He nearly screeched “Not INJECTED?” he picked the syringe from the table, waving it in her face. “It was injected, and then cured with THIS!”
Twilight felt her face stretching into a smile “Then we can help Fluttershy?”
Skorpeon smiled a crazed man’s smile “Fluttershy, Treyville. Hay, we can save the entire United STATES!” He jumped, pumping both fists against his chest. “I HAVE THE CURE FOR THE GREEN FLU!!”
Miles hid his face, even though this unicorn was the only one seeing him like that “Give it a rest dad.” He stood, fixing his goggles so that he could take a square look at his father.”Yeah, we can now save all them back home, but this is no reason to embarrass you like this.”
Skorpeon nudged the silver fox, knocking his goggles off. As he bent down to pick them up, he made eye contact with Twilight.
The purple unicorn gasped. Instead of eyes that were white with a vivid color, Miles’ eyes were pure red.
“Wha— ah-- ” she stammered, backing into a needle. She jumped at it sank into her flesh. Skorpeon dashed forward, pulling it from her flank.
“There’s a… thing, with us.” Skorpeon explained. “It’s called Magyk. Not like yours, where it’s only given to a few, but in Miles or me, it’s the reason that we can walk and talk the way we do.”
Miles adjusted his goggles, “One of the things is called mortification. See something that causes emotional trauma, and we somehow change both mentally and physically.”
Twilight rubbed her sore flank. “What was in that?”
Skorpeon eyed her. “You might feel a little light headed…” He caught the unicorn just as the anesthesia kicked in.
“Whooo!” Twilight’s effects kicked right in “The world is up dide sown!”
Miles picked up the needle labeled Vellum. “Soo… now we have a horny unicorn?”
Skorpeon’s response was a glare, with a quick giggle from Twilight. “These ponies don’t get horny, Miles.” Skorpeon rolled his eyes.
“Ah, right.” Miles grinned his signature mischievous grin, “They get Wing-bo--” His statement was cut off as the Rainbow Dash, followed closely by Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, barged their way in.
“Who are you?!” the rainbow-maned Pegasus stalked right up to Miles, “And what are you doing here?”
Twilight giggled, “Hey Dashie! Hehe, Dashie. Like DASHING!” Twilight swayed, nearly capsizing into Fluttershy.
“What kind of twisted wizard are you?” Rainbow Dash grabbed Skorpeon’s MoonFall sword in her mouth, pointing it directly at Miles. “What did you do to her?!”
“Calm down!” Skorpeon grabbed his sword from Rainbow Dash. Miles didn’t need any more scars.
“One, I am not a wizard.” Miles was glaring right back at Rainbow Dash. “Two, she just had a little accident. And three, he is my dad.” Miles pointed a mechanical glove at Skorpeon, watching Dash’s face fall.
“I’m. I’m sorry.” She hung her head, a small tear forming at the corner of her eye. Her apology, though directed at Miles, was also to Skorpeon.
“Rain.” Skorpeon put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t know. Don’t tear yourself up about it. You were just helping.”
Miles twitched at the name. “What did you just call her?”
Skorpeon looked his son in the eye “She reminds me a lot of her, Miles.” Skorpeon stood, sitting at his table. Twilight was leaning against Pinkie Pie, to disoriented to stand right.
“So, what happened to her?” Fluttershy asked “Twilight, I mean.”
“Just a drug.” Skorpeon said, cleaning up the desk. “A powerful one called Valluim. Not only does it make the person not care about what’s going on around them, but it can also get their endorphins to spike.” Twilight fell with a muffled WHUMP!, then tried to scrabble back up. “And remove all control from their motor skills.”
“And what does that mean?” Pinkie Pie was trying to keep Twilight from falling over, yet trying to get the drugged unicorn staying in one place.
“It means,” Miles said, “That she’s falling head over heels for someone a lot faster than normal. Litterally.” He added as Twilight tried to jump over Fluttershy, and instead did a half-pirouette, causing her to land on the yellow Pegasus with a loud squeal.
“Hehehehee” Twilight giggled again, trying to focus on the many Miles’ swimming in front of her view. “Silly Miles. Silly Miles. Your name is. Silly Miles.” She stumbled over to him, and with a moment’s pause, planted a kiss right on his cheek.

Skorpeon’s yell of joy could, in no way, shape, or form, match the volume of Miles’ yell of disgust.

“I’ll see you guys soon.” He told the ponies, “It won’t take long to administer the cure.”

He bent to each of their level and gave them a hug.

“See you soon, Skorpeon”

“See ya man.”

“Goodbye, my friend.”

“After a while, crocodile!”

“Um, see you.”

“Ahbout how long?”

“Three, maybe for months.” Skorpeon told Applejack. “If there aren’t any problems, that is.”

He turned, slinging his medical supplies over his shoulder. He took one last look at his friends, then spun on the spot.

Skorpeon appeared at a small hut by a river. He flung his cloak on, pressing his ear to the door.

“All right. I respect that, Lylat.” A deep voice sounded through the door. Skorpeon dug his knuckle into the door as the voice continued.

“But, if you ever want to reconsider, I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you Garan, but I’m keeping my ground.”

Skorpeon was thrown back as a tall, mechanical being came out of the hut. He had a bulky cylinder strapped to both arms, each glowing like miniature stars.

Skorpeon had his eyes forced closed. He was going to attack, he knew it. Skorpeon kept his fist balled tightly, eyes starting to glow black.

Garan turned, “Ah, how nice to see you, Brother.”

“Not as nice as it is to kill you.” Skorpeon growled. He pulled his sword from his back.
“Skorpeon RyDer!” A strict female voice called, “Get in. NOW!”
Skorpeon dashed inside, throwing the sword on the bed.
“What was that, I wonder?” his wife asked him, vibrant jade eyes boring right into his soul. He flinched.
“I told you EXACTLY what happened.” Skorpeon said, “Besides, the more yammering we do, the less time we have to get to Treyville before sundown…”
She nodded, picking up a shoulder bag.
“Got everything sorted out?” he asked, grabbing her hand.
“Let’s do it.” She said, grinning happily.

Skorpeon spun, then vanished with a slight pop.

“You absolutely sure?” One red eye met two jade eyes, and Skorpeon nodded.
“Yes,” he whispered in her ear “They need my help.”
Skorpeon’s wife looked at him “There’s not another girl, is there?”
Skorpeon laughed “No vixens like you, you mean.” He kissed her eye when she placed her temple on his shoulder. “I’m just as loyal to you now as I was when we got married.”
She replied by repositioning her head onto his chest, taking in the cologne Skorpeon was
wearing. “That’s all I need to hear.”
Skorpeon moved his hand down her side so that his wrist was resting on her hip.
When her breathing slowed down, Skorpeon gently slid of the bed and began writing a note.

To the Toa of Shadows;
I regret to inform you that I will not be remaining here in Metru Nui. It was good to see you all again—

Skorpeon crumpled the parchment up. In all actuality, he hadn’t seen his team since he left for Ponyville almost a year prior.
Gotta love Dmitri, falsifying people’s hearts and dreams he thought bitterly, the Carnival Incident sideling back into his mind.
Skorpeon tried again, crumpling the paper up and tossing it in the trash. It was good to be back in his home again without the zombies pounding on the doors.
Skorpeon thought for a moment, then tried one last time;

When we got married, I said it would be forever.
I’m still keeping that promise, just in a different city than you.
I’ll be back for you, don’t worry.
I’ll see you soon, Lylat.
Skorpeon

Skorpeon sealed the letter, placed it on the table, and then spun on the spot.

“Skorpeon!” All he saw was a blur of rainbow, then the ground greeting him.
“Hi Rainbow Dash.” He said, muzzle mashed in Equestria’s soil.

Dash threw her hooves around Skorpeon’s neck, pulling him in a massive bear hug, “You’re back!”

He spat some Rainbow-matted fur from his mouth, returning the hug "Hey Dashie."

Rainbow Dash reached behind her, and handed him a gift. "Congratulations on finding it, Skor."

He opened the little package.

Inside was a small, elaborately carved Elephant tusk, carved into an Ankh. It was the same design as the Ankh tattooed onto Skorpeon's chest.

Skorpeon picked the life symbol up, noticing for the first time the wooden chain that it hung on.

"Thanks Rain." he said, placing it around his neck. "Thanks a lot."

The Pegasus smiled, grabbing the hem of his coat. “C’mere. Twilight will be glad to see your back.”

The two talked about the adventure all the way back to the Library. Faintly, he can hear voices, but it’s probably just the fact that Twilight was the librarian and there were often countless ponies coming in and out, whether to talk or to borrow books.

However, when the voices silenced and a drape moved on the top floor, he realized what they were planning.

“After you.” Dash held the door open, and when Skorpeon came within view of the door;

“WELCOME BACK RYDER!” The lights clicked on, revealing all who were attending.

Skorpeon, the sudden noise and change in atmosphere, caused him to clutch his heart and collapse, causing the ponies to silence.

The position he was in hid his face, so when the initial shock wore down and a certain wall-eyed Pegasus prodded her, he couldn’t hold it longer;

“Gah! Fine! You win!” He rolled on his back, jumping right up with a grin on his face.

“RyDer!” he heard someone scold him.

He looked around, seeing everypony that welcomed him back.

There was a group of five, two unicorns, two earth ponies, and a Pegasus. They all had a grin on and were laughing at his little production.

A lone zebra stood next to them, shaking her head in his direction, the Pegasus that nudged him back at her side.

He smiled, seeing all his newfound friends united under the roof of the library.

“Thanks everypony.” He said “Really. You guys are the best.”

A little green dragon, sitting on the white unicorn’s back, rolled his eyes, “C’mon everypony!” he said, “Let’s boogie!”

He threw a switch, the lights went out, and the library filled with green, red, blue, and purple lights and music started playing.

“You guys got a hold of my zSize, didn’t you?” he asked, recognizing the song that they were playing.

The purple unicorn blushed, hiding her face. He placed a paw on her shoulder “It’s alright Twi. Do I look mad?”

Indeed, he was far from it. The nine of them were all the only friends he had now. His deputies from Star Zed, the Toa of Shadows, those he knew in Treyville… he hated them all now.

“Spike?” He called over the music, “Can you turn it off for a moment?”

Surprise appeared on everypony’s face as Spike turned the turntable off, all faces now at Skorpeon.

“Just for a moment,” Skorpeon repeated, “I need to tell you girls something…”

A green fox was standing out in the bitter wind. This was a fox many people knew and loved. Yet they also feared him to a point. His face was wounded with a freshly lost eye, and he was clutching a bloody stump of an arm. Massive cuts and gashes checker-boarded his body, each bleeding more profusely than the last. He had lost a fight that also lost him the woman of his dreams.

“Krystal,” he whispered to the girl he would never see again “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Unable to take it anymore, he succumbed to the black tendrils of smoke that clawed at his vision.

The green fox woke up later. He searched his surroundings, trying to make sense in his new environment. He noticed that he was warm, for one. He still felt dizzy to a point, but it was a good kind of dizzy, he thought. He also noticed that there was someone else breathing in the room. He tried to move, but his head was too heavy to move. He felt a bandage pressing the fur down on his face, and there was a sharp pain in his right arm. He groaned, and then something moved beyond his vision.

“Dah, you’re awake.” He heard someone say “I had thought you had gone in the beyond. Hmm. No matter.”

The fox felt something push him into a sitting position. His head reeled in pain with the sudden change in altitude. His head sagged against his chest, then a hand pushed his head back against the back of the bed.

“Easy now.” The would-be rescuer came into the fox’s view, “You don’t want to hurt yourself more.”

The injured fox looked the man over. He took note on his appearance, faintly hearing someone talking of a guy like this. He followed the man’s actions as he checked his heartbeat.

He tried to talk, but found his throat dry as a desert. As such, the only sound that was emitted was a crackle.

The doctor looked up, “Ah, yeah, I was wondering about that. Give me just one moment.” He stood, going beyond the fox’s vision.

His mind reeled, trying to make sense of what happened.

There was a fight, I know. I also know he defeated me. That’s probably when I tried to find help.
It was over her. He allowed his mind to wander further. Going back as far as when he found the pretty blue vixen in the hospital wing of the school.

“Here ya go.” The doctor had returned, snapping the fox out of his thoughts. “This will help with your throat.”
The fox tried to take the cup of water with his left arm. However, his arm moved, yet he couldn’t grip the cup.

“Yeah, here.” The doctor grabbed his right arm, placed the cup in his paw, and tipped it to his mouth.

The fox drank greedily, downing the cup in two swallows. The man merely chuckled. He felt the cup weigh down as it was refilled.

“Don’t drown yourself now.” The blue eye pointed to the face of the doctor. Slowly, the green fox took a mouthful of water, letting the cool liquid slowly run down his parched throat.

“Who are you?” he asked when he could, his voice still coming out in a crack.

The man chuckled as he stood up. He was wearing a flight jacket with studded shoulder pads, blue jeans with a plasma pistol strapped to his left leg, and he wore black boots. Elegant white hair flowed down to his hips, where it was tied down in a ponytail. “Forgive me. My name is Gargarensis O’Donnell.” He stooped into a low bow “PH.D and M.D. for ten years.”

The fox took another mouthful of water, noticing for the first time the man’s face.

He wore a pink strip of cloth in his hair, letting two tendrils come over his eyes. He had a massive scar on his nose that was connecting his eyes. His muzzle had patches of grey on it, a white goatee adorned his chin.

“But, enough about me.” Gargarensis sat back down, staring his patient down. “What about you?”

The fox took another sip, “Eh?”

Gargarensis laughed, “You look like you were featured on the wrong end of ‘Will it Blend?’. You’ve been used as a knife sharpener, you’re missing an arm and an eye, and you suffered major frostbite to your legs, fingers, and ears. Not to mention that ingrown toenail that caused a massive infection. The best you can do is telling me your name, and how you got these injuries.”

While he was talking, the doctor unwrapped the bandage from his face, revealing a clean hole where his right eye should have been.

The fox sighed, defeated. “My name is Skorpeon RyDer. I lost my wife about seven years ago, and I finale find the one woman who can replace her. Then I lose her.” Skorpeon shuddered, “I lost her because of--”

“Her old boyfriend?” Gargarensis’ head was in a cupboard, scuffling noises telling Skorpeon that he was searching for something.

“How?” Skorpeon tried to brush the fur from his eye, but instead lodged his thumb deep into it.

“How did I know?” Gargarensis returned seeing Skorpeon rubbing his eye furiously, “Just hazarding a guess.”

Skorpeon looked up; Gargarensis was holding a leather strap in one hand, a small glass device in the other.

“Soo… does the name Panther Caroso ring a bell?” Skorpeon asked.

In response, Gargarensis tossed the strap and the sphere onto Skorpeon’s lap.

“Aye.” He turned around, “I know him.” The doctor left, leaving Skorpeon alone.

“Crazy nutter anyway.” He muttered to himself, taking a look at what the doctor threw in his lap. It had leather on both sides of a ring that had a sphere-shaped hollow that looked about the same size as the eye piece.

“Here,” Gargarensis returned with a glass of water. “This will help with your throat.”

Skorpeon eyed the doctor, his eye flicking to the half-empty glass of water already on the table.

Gargarensis followed Skorpeon’s gaze, jumping at his mistake. “I apologize.” He set the new glass on the counter. “My mistake.”

He tried to cover up by digging in a drawer, “I usually am not this out of it, but I haven’t slept since Friday last week.” He turned, noticing Skorpeon fumbling with the device, “Here, it goes like this.”

He slipped the glass piece into Skorpeon’s eye socket, the sphere sticking out a half inch. To counteract it, Gargarensis slipped the ring on, buckling the belt firmly behind his head.

“This will allow you to see again.” He said with finality ringing in his voice.

Skorpeon closed his left eye, and, sure enough, he saw almost as well as he did before. Amazement flooded his voice as he tried to think of what to say. Fortunately, Gargarensis held up a hand, stemming the flow of would-be questions before the dam broke.

“A simple, ‘thank you Doctor O’Donnell, I’ll stay away from street fights from now on,’ will suffice.”

Skorpeon smirked, “You saved my life, and I am grateful, but fighting is my life.”

Gargarensis’ eyes narrowed, “Give me back the eye!” He reached for Skorpeon’s face, but Skorpeon, having recovered enough in the time, grabbed the doctor’s wrist. He would have positioned his other arm near his elbow, but then realized his arm was missing.

“Hoo-kay…” Gargarensis yanked his arm from Skorpeon’s grip, straightening his headband. “I guess that wouldn’t be very, ah, sportsmanlike?”

He stood again, going beyond Skorpeon’s vision. He took this moment to slowly rotate on the bed so he was leaning against the headboard.

Gargarensis returned, holding a familiar silver device in his arms. “and I’m assuming this is yours?”

Skorpeon took the cybernetic arm, and with care, re-wired the device onto his still-bandaged arm.

“My son fixed this up best as he could, so, sorry if there are amy problems. I can’t even hold a cell phone to save my life.”

Skorpeon laughed, flexing his fingers. Everything seemed to be in order. “Where are my clothes?”

Gargarensis stood, tossing Skorpeon a pile of clothes at Skorpeon. Freshly laundered, and, if he wasn’t mistaken;

“These aren’t mine.”

“Course they ain’t. They’re a set my son bought so you actually could wear something decent instead of those newfound rags.”

Skorpeon was forced to see sense in this. “Thanks. I can repay you for the hospitality you showed.”

Gargarensis laughed again. “I am the town medic. I don’t charge unless I can’t do it myself. How about you stay for dinner?” Without waiting for a response, he closed the door, giving Skorpeon some privacy.

He pulled the new clothing on, checking himself over in the mirror. The dark grey “Midnight Rider’s” tee shirt, the black pants, and the flight jacket all fit him nicely. He pulled the boots on, noticing the titanium skulls tacked onto the toes. He clicked his tongue. It’ll have to do for now. he thought to himself.

Skorpeon stood, slipping a cane from the cage by the door to steady himself as he walked into the landing.

He rounded a corner into a living room that was adorned with different artifacts over every possible surface. Something caught Skorpeon’s eye on a mantel. It was a holographic picture depicting a younger Gargarensis with a lizard, and… wait…

“Having a good look around?” a gravelly voice rang behind him.

Skorpeon yelped, whirling around and making eye contact with another wolf. He was about the same height as Gargarensis, but still a bit smaller. He wore a black tank top and darker pants, black boots (quite similar to Skorpeon’s new pair), and a blue device adorned his left eye.

“Sorry,” the wolf apologized as he walked over to Skorpeon. He held out a hand “I’m Wolf. I’m the one who found you in the streets.”

Skorpeon shook hands with Wolf, “Skorpeon RyDer.”

“I see you took interest in the picture of my team.” Wolf picked the hologram up, handing it to Skorpeon. “Star Wolf. We’re an elite band of fighters. Him,” he pointed to the lizard “Is my theoretical brother, Leon Powalski. And that suck-up with the rose is--”

“Panther Caroso.” Skorpeon spat, recognizing not a younger Gargarensis, but the wolf now staring at him, agape at this newcomer’s knowledge.

“How do you know Panther?” Wolf asked, hand twitching to the pistol strapped to his leg, similar to Gargarensis’.

“Panther made it clear about his name before he used me as a knife sharpener.” Skorpeon said, “He told me that those who saw his rose also met death. Or something like that.”

“ Do you see my red rose? It marks your imminent death . Yeah, he would always rub that in people’s faces. Strange, the same day he’s evicted from the team is the day you show up in the streets, blood half gone and frostbitten like the dickens.”

Skorpeon looked at Wolf, “How long was I out?”

Wolf scoffed, “’How many weeks was I out’ is more of the question. You’ve been in a coma. Dad thought you would die any day soon. Then he would say that you should wake any minute now. I dunno. I think all his time as a battle medic is starting to get to him.”

Skorpeon nodded. “He gave me two glasses of water. Is he a bit--”

“Absent minded? Yes.” Wolf smirked, “I wanna know how he has a clean record with how little memory he has left.”

“Wolf?” A woman’s voice rang from the other room “Can you come here a moment?”

Wolf grimaced, “My mom. C’mon, you need to meet her. She’s a dream.”

Skorpeon smirked, “You still live with your mother? How old are you?”

Wolf elbowed Skorpeon in the ribs, “Yeah, just because you’re a patient, doesn’t mean I’ll take smack about the fact that I have to live with my parents because my dad has old timer’s, or something”

“Alzheimers.” Skorpeon corrected him.

“Bless you. Yes ma?”

A lovely shewolf stood in a glistening kitchen, long blonde hair going to her shoulders. She turned, catching eye of Skorpeon.

“Ah, good; you’re awake.” She said, “I’m Shermanda. Don’t worry about the eye piece, we have hundreds. Wolf, can you help me with this?”

Skorpeon backed up a pace to allow Wolf access to the kitchen, then followed after a moment.

“Do you need any other help Missus O’Donnell?” Skorpeon tried to do some good, but the shewolf grabbed him by the collars of his jacket and thrust him into a chair.

“Don’t give me that. You spent the good part of four weeks in a coma on that table, and the sooner you get some nutrients in you, the better. That bloodstream stuff only takes you so far.”

Skorpeon sat dejected, trying to keep his mind off his now-rumbling stomach.

Four weeks?!?! he yelled at himselfThere go all chances to find Krystal.

Don’t say that RyDer. You can do this! You’re one of the best trackers in the galaxy!

Shut up. That’s not the point.

NOT THE POINT?! Dude! Get a grip! Look at the technology these guys have! You can fine Panther and Krystal in ten minutes at most! Besides, Wolf appears to know Caroso…

Yeah, but still, I only met him five minutes ago. I don’t know him, he doesn’t know me. He’s probably not going to help you.

“Hey, Skor.” Wolf waved a paw in front of Skorpeon’s muzzle “Corneria to Skorpeon. You’re being paged.”

Skorpeon shook his head, “Sorry, what?”

“I said are you allergic to any foods?” Gargarensis was standing beside his wife, meat cleaver in hand.

“Oh, ah, no. ” Skorpeon slumped against the back of the chair. His little conflict with himself had managed to mask out the three O’Donnell’s setting the table around him. Wolf sat down next to Skorpeon, pulling two plates off the pile. He handed one to Skorpeon, also slipping a piece of paper under it.

“Wait until after dinner.” He muttered to Skorpeon. “My mom hates this kind of stuff…”

Skorpeon slipped the paper into his sleeve, grabbing some utensils as a pretense. His eye itched, and reacting instinctively, went to scratch it.

“AY-YAH!” He mistakenly shoved the device into his eye, and being four weeks old, the damaged muscles screamed in protest.

“Yeah, don’t scratch it for another five weeks.” Gargarensis said, taking a set next to his wife across from Skorpeon.

“Now ya tell me.” Skorpeon muttered, accepting the pot of mashed potatoes from Shermanda.

“So, Skorpeon.” She said as she took a small pile of meat from what looked like a pig, “How did you come to find yourself in a coma?”

Skorpeon sighed, handing the pot to Wolf. “I lost my wife seven years ago. She was a pretty little rose, Mei Ling. About three months ago, my… sister… and I had a slight disagreement. Her rage consumed her, and she killed herself. It was over a young vixen named Krystal.”

Wolf gagged then started choking. Skorpeon, who was closest, started thumping him on the back.

“Krystal, as in Sevenarrow?” Wolf asked after he regained control over his own breathing.

“Yeah, actually. Do you know her?”

Wolf nodded, “Yeah, she was a part of our team. Panther and she were actually pretty steady, then they have an argument, and she leaves us.”

Skorpeon buried his face, “She traipsed off with Panther when he attacked me.”

Wolf cocked his head, “Really? I thought the two of them hated each other?”

“Apparently not.” Skorpeon dug into his mashed potatoes half-heartedly.

“So, what lead up to the fight?” Misses O’Donnell asked, “I doubt it was over just this girl?”

“It probably was.” Both Wolf and Skorpeon said at the same time.

“Ma, it’s Panther. He’s the one who will bludgeon someone to death with a rose because he thought they scratched his Arwing.”

“What happened anyway?” Gargarensis asked, “How did the fight start?”

Skorpeon sighed, “Krystal and I were trying to contact an old friend, she said. She said the two of us would get along, and maybe we can merge Star Zed with them. She never said who, though. Panther sees us walking down the road, arm in arm, and he pulls a knife on me. After a brief Skirmish, I lay on the ground, eye leaking from my face and the two of them walking away. I should have seen it sooner. She was setting me up.”

“Hey man, don’t accuse her that way.” Wolf said, “She probably was trying telling the truth, and Panther just messed things up.”

“How do you know?” Skorpeon looked at the wolf, noticing for the first time the tattoo on his neck; An S and W, separated by a phoenix’s wing.

“I’m your contact.” He said. “And no one attacks my friends.”

Skorpeon’s eyes widened, “I should have made the connection before…”

Wolf shrugged, “Like its bad to not know who your meeting for the first time in your life.”

Skorpeon took a sip of the juice Wolf’s mom handed him. “Mmm. What is this?”

Gargarensis laughed, “You ever hear of a Bamfodad?”

“Can’t say as I have. I haven’t been on this planet very long…”

“It’s a citris fruit.” Shermanda said, “We have a few other fruits in there just to make things interesting.”

Gargarensis pulled a silver flask from the table, popping the cap on it. “Could do with a bit more of a spike, though.”

Skorpeon’s eyes widened from behind his cup. His instincts spat the juice from his mouth.

Fortunatley, the glass managed to catch the majority of it, letting the rest of the juice stream down the cup onto his shirt.

The three wolves laughed, Wolf tossing him a towel. “It’s not alcoholic man. Don’t worry.”

Skorpeon accepted the towel, mopping himself up. “Sorry.”

Dinner finished on a higher note (not including the fact that Shermanda made Skorpeon eat about five plates of food to get some nourishment with his four-week coma.), and Skorpeon found himself in Wolf’s room.

“Who are the Midnight Riders?” Skorpeon asked, seeing four people bearing down on him on every last square inch of wall.

Wolf’s jaw dropped to the floor, solitary eye staring right at Skorpeon, “You- you- wha- how- bu-bu-”

Skorpeon held his hand to his shoulders, “You know, I haven’t been here very long.”

“Only the best band this side of our dimension.” Wolf said pointing a paw at the four people, “Ox, Smitty, Jake, and Dusty. They are the best.” He tapped a screen, a holo-monitor buzzing to life.

“Here, lemme show ya something.” He tapped an icon on his screen.

There were a few riffs that led to a heavy metal solo.

“This is good.” Skorpeon found his foot tapping to the beat, “This is good.”

“Wait.”
[link]

When the song ended, Skorpeon found his jaw on the floor, “I take it back. They’re not good.”

Wolf looked at Skorpeon as if he was crazy. “The Riders? NOT GOOD!?”

Skorpeon shook his head, grinning, “They. Are. Awesome.”

Wolf slugged Skorpeon in the stomach, causing the fox to double over, still recovering from his slight fight.

“C’mon. I’ll show you to your room. You can room with us until you’re feeling up to a dimensional travel.”

“I’m sorry?” Skorpeon asked, shaking his head, “Did you say ‘dimensional?’”

Wolf nodded, “I’d wait until you’re feeling better. I don’t want to have to lug back two corpses.”

Seeing sense, Skorpeon allowed himself to be shepherded across the hall.

“This is your room, My ma prepared it about day two. Everything is clean, but I’d be careful with my ma’s decorating.”

Wolf flicked a light on, and Skorpeon felt he had been shunted into the past.

There were Beatles albums adorning one wall, David Bowie and Ziggy Stardust adorning the other. There was a vinyl deck under a window, hooked up to two speakers that looked capable of blowing out a wall or two if they were allowed their full potential. The bed was decorative, yet simple.

“Here’s your room, I guess. Need anything, my parents are just down the hall. Try not to touch Bowie, and I think you’ll be alright.”

Skorpeon smirked, “Mom in love with him or something?”

Wolf shook his head, “My dad and David Bowie had one thing in common.” Wolf shrugged, “They’re both absent minded as the hills. I’m wondering if they knew each other in a past life.”

Skorpeon nodded, “Yeah, knowing technology these days, there might be something to that extent.”

Wolf stepped out of the room to allow Skorpeon some privacy. Skorpeon shed the jacket, hanging it on a bedpost.

Something fell to the floor. The piece of paper.

He unfolded it, eyes widening at what it said;

I want to help you. I know how much of a pain Panther can be.
How do I know this? You were crying about her when I found you.
I want to help you get Krystal back. She meant a lot to me, but I never saw it working out.
Maybe it will work with you.

He stuck the paper in his pocket, took a moment to locate a mirror, gingerly stepping towards it. He peeled his shirt off with more care than he put it on.

Skorpeon finally got a good look as to what Panther did. There were massive scars where his opponent got him. Skorpeon ran a finger over them. They were still tinging with pain, but Skorpeon was grateful he had spent four weeks comatose with that factor.

Skorpeon sighed, threw the t-shirt over the jacket, and fell right onto the bed.

“Skorpeon?” The fox woke with a start, the sudden rapping on the door waking him from his dream.

“Skorpeon?” he heard a lady call again, “Are you decent?”

Skorpeon looked down at his midriff, “In a moment.” He reached up, pulling the shirt form where he discarded it last night. He quickly pulled it on, opening the door to a smiling Shermanda.

“Sleep well?” she asked, “I’d expect you to. How are you feeling?”

He smiled, “Better, thanks.”

Shermanda handed him something, “Wolf told me to give this to you when you woke up. He and Gargarensis are out for a bit, but they should be back in an hour or so.”

Skorpeon took the paper, unfolding it the same way he did the one last night.
If you wake up before I get back, the computer turns on with a wave of the paw over the small dome. Username is :shipname:, password 5tier.
Have fun, but you break anything, I won’t be so hospitable as my parents...

Skorpeon pocketed the note, limping across the hall into Wolf’s room. He located the dome, waving his paw over it.
It hummed to life, the screen emitting a holographic display.

Skorpeon looked around for a keyboard, and found a blue projected keyboard on the desktop. He grinned, typing the information into the computer.

A chime, and Skorpeon was trying to figure out what he was looking at. There were icons, yes, but they weren’t like ones he’d seen. He found the mouse, clicking on a “4” logo on his desktop.

“May as well,” he said, leaning back as the game loaded, “It sounds fun.”

An hour and a half later, Wolf opened his door, finding Skorpeon on his computer.

“Yeah, shoulda figured you’d take Left for Dead.” He shook his head, “But dosen’t look like you know how to play…”

“I only started an hour ago. Shut up.” Skorpeon recoiled when something screeched on the screen.

“Here. Let me show you how you survive a REAL apocalypse.” Wolf waved a hand over a second dome, bringing up another screen. He did a bit of stuff, and soon the two canines were playing side by side, offering and receiving advice on the game for near five hours until dinner.

Dinner was rather hurried. Wolf claimed that Skorpeon needed to see something. When Skorpeon had barely set his fork down, Wolf grabbed him by the collar, dragging him out into the night.

“You’ll love this.” Wolf said, letting go of Skorpeon at a large black tarp, “This was Krystal’s when she was part of us. When she left, she got a new one and told us we can do whatever we wanted with his one. I managed to restore it, and if I am not mistaken, you’ll be needing a new ship, will you not?”

Skorpeon nodded, “Yeah. That might be a slight problem…”

“Soo… what’s the plan?” Skorpeon was feeling much better now that he had been out for fresh air the last few weeks.

Wolf laughed, “Panther’s ship, The Black Rose, has a tracking device in it. All we need to do is find it, open a dimensional gate, and go get your girl.”

Skorpeon looked at wolf, “Again, dimensional gate?”

Wolf typed something into the keyboard, a purple glow opening up between the black bars.

“These. Don’t try to move too much, or you’ll come out in more than one piece.” He stood, placing a paw into the vortex. Wolf grabbed Skorpeon by the collar, then dove right into it.

Skorpeon yelped as Wolf pulled him in, but quickly recovered as the ground below him reformed. The two of them stood, shaking the dust from their clothes.

“Well, here we are.” Wolf said, pulling two pistols from his belt. He tossed one to Skorpeon, “Think fast, and keep a wary eye.”

Skorpeon readied the pistol, holding it at the ready. “What is this thing anyway?”

Wolf laughed, “Sorry, but this is called a needler. It’s a flechette based assault rifle. You’re holding it backwards.”

Skorpeon flipped the rifle around, shaking embarrassment form his face. Faintly, he heard the babbling of a stream.

The two canines searched for a sign of life.

“Wolf.” Skorpeon nodded to a small hut on the edge of what looked like a forest. “Think there--”

“DOWN!” Wolf tackled Skorpeon, winding him. A puff of dust signaled a bullet had narrowly missed them.

He fired three blasts into the forest, then ran off, leaving Skorpeon gasping for breath.

“Skorpeon?” He heard a familiar voice, “Is that really you?”

Skorpeon stood, turning to the blue vixen. “Bet you and Panther had a a pretty good laugh after you--”

He was cut off as Krystal buried herself in his chest, crying her eyes out in his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Skorpeon.” She sobbed, “I, I had to- to -”

“Save face for this back stabber?” Skorpeon heard a grunt as Wolf returned. “I hear ya, Krys.”

Krystal looked up into Skorpeon’s eye, hers brimming over as she saw what her actions did to him.

“I’m sorry.” She said, placing her paw on his face, “I didn’t think. I just acted. And it cost you one of your handsome eyes. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. In fact, here; take one of my eyes out. I’m serious.”

She handed a knife to Skorpeon, who just threw it over his shoulder. “You may not believe you deserve it, but I’m still giving it to you.” He bent his neck, kissing Krystal’s forehead.

Wolf grinned, foot on the unconscious form of Panther, “C’mon, RyDer, I think we have a merge to happen.”

“Really Wolf?” Krystal said, “We’re trying to have a chick-flick moment.”

“Its okay, Krys.” Skorpeon said. He slapped a paw on Wolf’s shoulder, literally feeling something click in his mind.

Wolf O’Donnell had just become Skorpeon’s best friend, and he didn’t even know it yet.

Skorpeon finally shrugged off the responsibilities of trying to track down his final target to avenge Mei Ling. The other Skorpeon was already dead, and he didn’t feel that his sons deserved the same fate.

All that mattered now is that he makes new friends.

All that mattered now was—

“Alright, up you get RyDer.” Wolf was again helping Skorpeon off the ground, Krystal giggling “Let’s get you home before—aw shit.”

“What?” Krystal asked “What’s wrong?”

“No way to get home. The Black Rose only has two seats, and my gate just closed.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Skorpeon said, grabbing Wolf’s shoulder. “Grab him. I think I can get us home. Same principle as a gate?”

Wolf slung Panther over his shoulder. Krystal, now used to this, grabbed Skorpeon’s paw as he spun on the spot, experimenting with the idea of Apparating between Dimensions.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was silence in the library, the silence from Skorpeon’s story ringing like a church bell.

“Soo…” Twilight spoke, causing everyone there to jump. “You’re telling us this because…”

Skorpeon wiped his eyes, “I gave up my quest for the McAlber family to actually live a life worth living when I befriended Star Wolf. We merged teams, fighting together as one. Protecting the innocent as one.” He stood from the stairwell, looking at the nine attendants in the library. Those who had missed him these long months. Though he was only gone for three months, it felt like ten years for Skorpeon.

Ten years from these ponies. Three months, still, but he was beginning to wonder whether he should’ve gone back to reverse them or not.

“There were a good twenty thousand in Treyville.” Skorpeon explained “twenty thousand when the infection hit. KV had a ninety-percent kill rate, that's eighteen thousand people dead. Crashed and bled out. Dead. Less than one-percent immunity. That left two thousand healthy people, like Kursed, me, and Wolf. The other sixteen thousand turned into Zombies, and then they got hungry and they killed and fed on everybody.

“Those who weren’t killed by the infection one way or another were killed by CEDA or other survivors. Many succumbed to the infection and died for no reason. By the time I got there with the cure, five years later…”

He sighed, remembering Treyville from before, and the solitary hundred people left.

“My friends. All killed. No one in Treyville left.” A tear slid down his cheek.

Twilight placed a hoof in his arm, “Skorpeon, we’re your friends. We’ll never abandon you.”

Rainbow Dash spoke up, “Yeah, you’re like our brother. We would never think about hurting you.”

Skorpeon looked up, the semi-circle of ponies were all smiling at him. Something snapped in his mind. He didn’t care. He was their protector. How could they be friends with someone like him? He’s SLAUGHTERED people for crap’s sake!

Without a word, Skorpeon spun, Apparating to a secluded part of a trail near Whitetail Wood. He collapsed near a stream, crying bitterly into the rushing river.

Without any thought, he started attacking the red fox that was facing him from the depths of the stream. No matter what he did, that face was staring right back. He silently cursed that image of himself.

He cried more, wanting the pain in his heart to just vanish.

The green fox was crying. He had no real intent on crying, yet he was.

He was crying to release the pain. The hollow in his heart found earlier that day.

He was kneeling at an open grave. There was an elaborate mahogany box sitting at one side of the grave. His son and wife were still miles off, which allowed him to release the pain alone.

It all flashed through his mind. The Scamander kid casting the Killing Curse, trying to get out of the spell that Reine had on him during a duel.

He didn’t know what it was. He had no idea. Skorpeon didn’t hate the kid.

He hated the kid’s father.

What twisted man would use that curse on his own wife? He hadn’t meant to, so she was slightly okay.

But Loran Scamander HAD meant to use it. He didn’t mean to kill, but that’s not how it works.

Skorpeon placed the rose he was holding in Reine’s paws. He looked at the headstone itself;

His cheeks stung from the wind, but he couldn’t fell them over the pain in his heart.
“Skorpeon?” He turned, seeing Hermoine and Harry there.
“What do you want?” he growled, “Leave me alone.”
“Skorpeon, listen” Hermoine knelt beside the professor, “I know what it’s like to lose someone. Need I remind you that Ron and the majority of his family was killed in the Battle at Hogwarts while neither Harry or I could do a bleeding thing?”
Skorpeon brushed the hand from his shoulder, “Yes, you lost, Ronald, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, and Ginerva, did you not?” His eye glowed a light blue, then turned blood red, “Who did I lose? I lost Akira and Reine under the roof of Hogwarts. They weren’t just friends. They were FAMILY.”
He turned from the two human, wrapping his cloak around him.
“Ron,” Harry paused for a moment “Ron and Ginny were more than friends to us. Ron was almost my brother. And Ginny--”
Skorpeon snorted, “And Ginny was the girl you dated for a mere five months then shunted out the door when you destroyed Voldemort. Real close, you two.”
Harry closed his eyes, “Ginny was my first true love. She was the only family I had. My parents were killed, my godfather was killed, my mentors all were killed. She was the only thing I had left.”
Skorpeon turned, his eye was turning black “Yeah? Well, Reine was my baby. She was only in her second year.” He heard someone approach. He turned to see his wife, daughter and son climbing the hill.
“Skorpeon.” Krystal wrapped an arm around Skorpeon, sobbing into his shoulder.
Miles, however, distanced himself from the grave. He loved Reine, he loved her more than a sister.
Miles wasn’t really Skorpeon’s son. He and Krystal had adopted him when he ran from Sonic and his team. All he ever said was that Sonic stole his girl, and that was that.
When Reine was born, Miles spent every last second he could with her, always having enough energy to take care of her when neither Skorpeon nor Krystal could. When she got her letter to Hogwarts, Miles was as ecstatic as she was.
Now, that she was dead, Miles was distant again. He hardly spoke and seemed to be on the verge of tears.
“Miles?” Shakirae placed her paw on his shoulder “Come on. Let’s pay her her last respects.”
Miles nodded, pulling the necklace he wore all the time. He never said where he got it, or what it meant. One day, he dropped it down a sink, and he frantically shut the entire bathroom down while he hastily invented a device that could get it out.
He looked at the violet vixen, sleeping peacefully in the coffin. He placed the necklace on her neck, adjusting it so that it sat on the center of her chest.
When Skorpeon noticed that Miles was crying, he placed his paw on his shoulder comfortingly.
“It’s okay Miles.” He tried to comfort his son. Miles, however, smacked Skorpeon’s paw from him, turning tail and running back down the hill, his vibrant blue eyes cascading behind him.
Krystal turned to Skorpeon, her own eyes brimming with tears. “How did it happen?”
Skorpeon sighed, recounting the tale. It took him all of five minutes, but it still was too great for him.
Krystal started to cry when he finished. Together, the two foxes and two humans placed Reine in her final home, carefully covering her with Hogsmeade soil.
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“Get a bleeding GRIP RYDER!” He smacked himself in the face, bringing himself into the present. “I told her two weeks. Two weeks in Ponyville. I’ve been here for three months! I need to leave before the ponies get to me!”
He stood up, “There’s still time. Just wait until Twilight Sparkle is in bed and--”
“And do what?” Rainbow Dash spoke up, causing Skorpeon to pull his pistol on her. Without thinking, he brought the butt if the gun onto her head. With a muffled thunk, Rainbow Dash hit the ground.
Skorpeon merely looked at the Pegasus, then, without another word, turned around and hid in the closest bush.

He hid there for maybe three hours before Rainbow Dash came too.
She moaned, rubbing her head. Skorpeon saw her crimson eyes widen as she remembered what he did.
“RyDer!” she yelled “Come out if you know what’s good for you! No one and I mean NO ONE MESSED WITH RAINBOW DASH!” She screamed the last words, falling back to the earth. She began looking around the area.
Skorpeon held his breath as she looked his way. Faintly, he felt something tickle his paw. He brushed it off without thinking. A moment later, it came back.
“AAAAKEEEEYAH!!!” Skorpeon dove from the bush, spiders crawling on his cloak.
“RyDer!” Rainbow Dash ran over to him, “Hold still!” She grabbed his cloak in her mouth, carried him to the stream, and threw the protesting fox into the river.
Skorpeon, unable to swim, tried to reach for the rebreather he kept behind his ear.
It hadn’t been there for near seven years.
He began to panic, taking a lungful of water. He gagged, allowing more precious air to escape. He felt his mind starting to go into panic mode now. It would be a matter of seconds before…

He rolled on his side and coughed water from his lungs. He heard some people whispering behind him. He coughed more water from his lungs as he felt someone pressing their hands to his back, expelling the water at an even faster rate than he could cough.
He spluttered, then took a deep breath.
“…didn’t know he couldn’t swim.” He heard someone say, “What? You think I was trying to kill him?”
Skorpeon snarled, jumping to his feet. He looked at the six ponies.
“Something wrong?” Fluttershy asked “I tried to get all the water from your lungs, but there--”
“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING RAINBOW DASH?!” he yelled, unleashing his fury on the rainbow-maned Pegasus.
“I was only--” she stammered.
“YOU WERE ONLY! YOU WERE ONLY!” He didn’t think; he just brought his foot against her stomach.
“RyDer!” Rarity and Twilight acted at the same time, trapping Skorpeon in a purple and blue bubble.
“LET ME GO!” he roared, trying to claw the bubble apart. “Let me the dickens go!”
Rainbow Dash clutched her stomach. Though Skorpeon couldn’t hear, he could see her coughing.
Twilight mouthed something, running to her friend. Rainbow Dash coughed again, blood spraying from her mouth.
Skorpeon gave a demented smile. The bubble around him vanished as he felt something collide with the back of his skull.
The last thing Skorpeon saw and heard was the crying of the rainbow-maned Pegasus as she collapsed on the ground, unmoving.

Skorpeon awoke with his head bandaged and throbbing like mad. He heard someone talking behind him.
Well, worst comes to worse, it’s the ponies. He groaned inwardly when he saw a rainbow mane in the bed beside him.
Rainbow Dash was facing away from him, breathing shallowly. HE could tell she was awake, because she was propping herself up on one forelock.
He silently stood, reaching for the knife strapped to his shoulder. Skorpeon crept up to the unexpecting Pegasus, paw stretched out to grab her forehead.
Rainbow Dash’s shriek was muffled by Skorpeon’s paw. She felt something grab her forehead, pulling her back into the deep black eyes of the fox. He grinned as she felt something cold and metallic touch her throat.
She realized that was his knife.
She realized he was grinning savagely.
She was going to die.
Rainbow Dash felt the blade sink into her throat, the pressure releasing on her head. She heard yelling and a bang.
Rainbow Dash blacked out of consciousness, a mysterious flash of green the last thing she saw.

Skorpeon was tied down with the magic of the four unicorns. His paws were forced behind him, his chest on his knees.
“Skorpeon Kingsleigh RyDer!” Nightmare Moon slowly trotted up to the incapacitated fox, eyes glowing a vivid white, “You have tried to kill a pony, have you not?”
Skorpeon’s answer was a snarl, not unlike the guttural growl of a bloodhound. He looked up into the eyes of the Queen of the Night, his own eyes black with rage.
“Cok mo we, 0ei awdehudk raksx.” He growled in the Dinosaur Language.
Princess Celestia positioned herself next to her sister, both Alicorns glaring down upon the fox.
“He’s usually not like this, sister.” Nightmare Moon told the elder. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“He still killed Rainbow Dash.” Celestia said in undertone.
Suddenly, Skorpeon started fighting his bonds.
“Let me go!” Everypony present heard the panic in his voice. “Let me go! I can heal her!”
A flash of light caused Nightmare Moon to transform into her own self, a young and beautiful black Alicorn with purple hair standing in her place.
Skorpeon, unrelenting, let out a cry: “FORCE!” The four unicorns felt a massive wave of air knock them into the hospital walls. Skorpeon jumped up and whipped his wand out in the same motion.
He dove to the bed of the bleeding Pegasus, crying bitterly when he saw what he did; slit her throat.
Skorpeon cursed himself. He had done PRECISELY the opposite of what he swore to do when he became what he tried to hide…

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Skorpeon and Krystal stood in the bitter cold of an Earthen night. They were waiting for someone. And they had no idea where he was.
“He said ten, right?” Krystal looked to the green fox, who nodded a confirmation.
He looked at a device embedded in his left arm. “He’s only ten minutes late.” He looked at his wife, noticing how much she was shivering. He took his trench coat off, placing it on his shoulders. Though he was wearing a t-shirt, Skorpeon wasn’t being affected by the cold. Yet.
They stood around for maybe ten more minutes, Skorpeon’s ragged breaths becoming more and more visible in the night air.
Snow started to fall around them when they heard something; the rumbling of a motorcycle engine.
Krystal leaned around Skorpeon, a red-orange glow illuminating the sky. Skorpeon drew a breath and grabbed Krystal by the waist.
He dragged Krystal behind the short wall, tapping a small camera onto the back of the wall. Krystal pulled a small flat device, slid her finger on the screen, and tapped an icon of a camera.
They saw, on the pocket-sized device, a creature step from the motorcycle. He had the build of a man. He was wearing a leather jacket with massive spikes on the shoulders. A trucking chain lay wrapped around his torso three times.
He looked around, and it was his face that caught Skorpeon and Krystal’s breath in their throats.
Instead of a face, there was a skull. The man had no flesh on his face. The glow emitting around him was what they noticed to be FIRE.
This man was on fire.
“Come out.” They heard him whisper. It was a loud whisper, if there was a thing.
“Who is this?” Krystal asked, “What is this?”
The creature looked to where the camera lay. He heard a small gasp, a feminine one, accentuated with a muffled yelp.
The flaming creature stalked towards the camera, picking it up in a flaming hand. He examined it in every angle. He set it down, and, seeing no one around, walked back to his bike and took off.
Skorpeon whipped the invisibility cloak from the two of them, thankful that creature was simple enough not to check the glimmering silver that was elevating the snow in a weird shape.
“What the crap was that?” Krystal asked, terror in her eyes.
Skorpeon shook his head. “I have no idea.” He bent at the tracks in the road. “Must be some pyrotechnic junkie…”
Krystal knelt beside her husband. The tracks left behind the bike were still smoking. The snow was melted, and the asphalt was still bubbling from where the bike had idled.
“Whatever it was,” Skorpeon said, standing up, “I think we should be grateful is gone.”
They heard a chuckling behind them. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
Skorpeon whirled, wand at the ready. He felt the dark aura of the figure behind him. “Who are you?”
The man chuckled again. He was wearing black robes that ended in tendrils of smoke. He carried in his hands a walking stick, adorned with a devil’s head on the end. His face was old and wrinkled, yet still had the look of a man at thirty.
“My name is not important.” He said, “I need help getting that man you just saw go past.”
“Yeah, no deal.” Skorpeon turned back around, trying to get his wife away from that dark man. He found his progress barred when a stream of smoke slid between the two of them. It swirled for a moment, the man walking through it again.
“I merely want some help.” He chuckled.
Skorpeon, however, pointed at the man, “I know who you are.” He growled “Your Mephistopheles. The Son of Morning’s brother.”
Mephistopheles’ face contorted into a spine-chilling skull, then back again. “Yes. I am.” He pointed at Skorpeon, “And you are Skorpeon RyDer, how fitting of a name.”
Skorpeon smacked the man’s hand from his face, “What do you want, devil spawn?”
Mephistopheles grinned, revealing a hundred sharp teeth in his maw, “I simply want that man ended. I need your help to corner him.”
“And what will you steal from us?” Krystal asked, her voice wavering on edge of fear.
Mephistopheles looked at Krystal, “I want no repayment for this… deed.”
Skorpeon snorted, “You want our souls. I know how you work.”
The man looked at Skorpeon, noting how his eyes were turning black, “But, what you don’t understand, RyDer.” He spread his fingers apart, hand encasing in a black fire, “If we ask a service, we can… induce, the service of those we feel right for the job.”
Skorpeon didn’t react fast enough; Mephistopheles placed his hand in the fox’s chest. Skorpeon felt the skin burn under his hand, and literally felt smoke streaming from his eyes.
His eyes rolled into his head. Skorpeon felt the burning escalate, the dark tendrils of night encompassing his vision as he fell to the snow-covered ground with a muffled thump.

The creature from before felt it; another soul damaged. He turned the bike around, pulling his weapon from the bottom of his bike. He induced a fraction of his Hell-Fyre into it, transforming it into his choise weapon.
When he got close enough, he saw a green figure in the ground, with a blue one lying on top. He could faintly hear her crying.
That’s where he was hiding. The creature placed the gun back in its spot, pulling up to the spot he was at mere minutes before.
The blue creature looked up at him, tears streaming from her face. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Get back!” She yelled with a slight British accent. Fitting for her beauty.
“Relax.” He said in his oddly comforting growl, “I’m a friend.”
She was holding the red figure in her arms, slipping her hand under his shirt. She pulled a black device from within, aiming it right at the flaming creature. “I’ll do it.” She said, pulling the catch with her teeth, “I swear to God I’ll do it.”
He placed his hands at his shoulders, forcing the Hell-Fyre to cease. Faintly, his skin returned. His har grew back, revealing the jet-black hair going to his shoulders. A slight goatee adorned his chin, and his eyes were the greenest the young vixen had ever seen.
“Relax.” The man said again, “I’m a friend.”
Krystal didn’t think, she just twitched her finger.
The man’s skin erupted in flame where the bullet hit. The skin reformed immediately, preventing the bullet form wounding him.
The man looked at her, trying his best to appear concerned, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Krystal looked at the man, nodding silently.
The human picked Skorpeon up and fireman-slung him over his shoulder, “C’mon, it’s not far to my warehouse. Get warmed up, and I’ll tell you all I know about that man.”
He touched his bike, and, and as if it were clay, he extended the length of it to accommodate two more people.
He slung Skorpeon on the back, allowing Krystal to sit behind him.
When Krystal was seated, the man kicked his bike in gear, racing off at high speeds. Krystal, though her husband was possibly comatose because of Mephistopheles, couldn’t help but suppress a yell of delight as the ice-cold air ripped though her hip-length hair.
The trip took about fifteen minutes, leaving Krystal thoroughly chilled. She was visibly shivering, and the man made a mental note to get her something warm to drink.
Krystal picked Skorpeon up off the bike, cradling him like an infant. The man flipped a tiny hatch closed as a door opened up in the wall. He wheeled his bike into the building, setting it in the middle of the floor.
When he got his bike standing, he grabbed the table in by the couch and tipped it, letting its contents fall to the floor.
“Put him here.” He said, rushing into the kitchen.
Krystal set Skorpeon down on the table, something catching her eye. She picked up a book that had fallen to the ground.
“Mystic Legends of the Old West.” She read aloud. She sat on the couch, keeping a wary eye on Skorpeon. She began to read,
It's said that the West was built on legends. And that legends are a way of understanding things greater than ourselves. Forces that shape our lives, events that defy explanation. Individuals whose lives soar to the heavens or fall to the earth.
One such man, by the name of Carter Slade, had a certain ring to his legend. They say he went to the most evil city on Earth, gathering the souls of the wicked, and possessed.
When time came to hand over the contract, however, Carter rode off into the night, leaving the man--
“Leaving the Devil without his contract. He couldn’t consume the souls of the city. He failed.” The man set a jug of water on the couch beside Skorpeon. “I know that story.”
Krystal looked at the human, “And you are?”
He laughed, tipping a wine glass full of red and yellow jelly beans into his mouth. “I’m sorry, my name is Johnny Blaze.”
Krystal held her paw out, shaking his hand, “Krystal RyDer.”
Johnny pulled a remote from the side of his couch, clicking a channel on.
“Not going to worry about Skorpeon? Just going to sit and watch TV?” Krystal looked at Johnny as if he was rather peculiar. In all senses, he was.
“Not much I can do. He’s just lost his soul and been infused with a massive power. I’d be surprised if he woke up within the hour.”
“Yeah, well you don’t know my Skorpeon.” She muttered to herself. She placed a paw on his cheek, stroking it gently. Something clicked.
“What did you say?” she asked, Johnny’s words finally sinking in.
“Didn’t say anything.” He said, immersed in the show.
“No, when I asked you if all you were going to do was watch TV.”
“Ah, I said he just had his soul taken from him. I felt it when he collapsed.”
Krystal gaped at Johnny, “And you know this how?”
Suddenly, Skorpeon stirred, causing Johnny to jump.
“How is he--”
“He’s my Skorpeon. He can handle anything.” Krystal helped Skorpeon sit up. “You okay?”
Skorpeon muttered, “Water,” and his head fell on her lap.
Johnny handed Krystal the jug of water and a cup. She gave the cup to Skorpeon and filled it, suppressing a giggle when he downed it in three swallows.
When Skorpeon had drunk his fill (Johnny had to refill the jug three times in the process,) Skorpeon found he could think clearly again.
“What happened?” he croaked, “All I remember is a man placing his hand on my chest.”
“That was Mephistopheles” Johnny explained, “He now has you under his full control.”
Skorpeon shuddered, “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re like me.” He said, trying to find the right words.
“A Rider?” Skorpeon asked, burying his face in his paws.
Blaze gaped again, perturbed by his knowledge, “I’m sorry?”
“You say I’m like you. You say that you know what happened with one glance. I’ve read reports about you.” Skorpeon shook his head, his heart sinking, “You, as I recall, are a Ghost Rider. Forever enslaved to do the work of the devil.”
Johnny looked at the fox, “Yeah. You handled that well…”
Skorpeon simply looked into the eyes of the human. “I’ve been downright POSSESSED. This is nothing.”
“Right.” Krystal said, “You were just attacked by the brother of the devil, and you shrug it off as if it’s nothing.”
“It is nothing.” Skorpeon said, “Did you see what happened when he touched me?” Krystal shook her head, he answered her, “His lip curled in rage. He can’t get to me. Yeah, he infused the power, but he now knows that there are two Riders against him now.”
Krystal looked at Skorpeon as if he was crazy, “And that because of…”
Skorpeon pulled a small chain from his neck with his dog tags. He fingered a certain one. On the front was a gladiator-like figure. “A Stripling Warrior.” He said. He turned it over, reading the inscription on the back.

Krystal looked at him, “He can’t get to you because…”

Johnny was smiling, “He can’t get to him because he’s righteous. I recognize that. I had a buddy who had one of them.”

Skorpeon tucked the dog tags back in his shirt. “He gave me the powers of a Rider, but he doesn’t have my soul. He can’t touch me.”

Krystal smiled, as did Blaze. “You do realize what you need to do?”

Skorpeon shrugged, “I’ve been protecting the innocent my entire life. Having the control to burn people’s soul makes no difference now.”

Johnny cocked an eyebrow, “You sure know a lot of being a Rider.”

“I told you, I read reports and stories. You’re really popular from where Krystal and I are from.”

“But I was actually referring to helping me take down the devil himself.”

Skorpeon smirked, “Boy, I was ready to take him down even before I was born. Protecting the innocent is my life. And damn is it a long one.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was snapped back into the present when he felt someone trying to pull him away from Rainbow Dash.
“Let me go!” he said, “I can heal her! I can save her!”
They didn’t listen. Resorting to a last measure, Skorpeon grabbed their hoof, slamming Pinkie Pie to the ground.
“I won’t let you kill her!” she said, “She’s my friend!”
Skorpeon didn’t listen. Instead, he placed his wand at Rainbow Dash’s throat, muttering a bit of latin.
Her throat sealed, leaving not even a scar.
Princess Luna and Celestia were in the doorway. Skorpeon, tears still in his eyes, looked at the Princess of the Sun and Moon, “This. This did not happen. Agreed? She had a nightmare.”
The princesses nodded, sensing his remorse.