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.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Durabilities Estimated time remaining: 17 Minutes