There is so much shit going on right now that it’s not even funny; but despite this fact, I love every second of it.

After a two month campaign, tomorrow morning we would take Copseburgh, redirect our forces southeast and take Featherworth- just in time for my birthday! Even better is the fact that the king was in Equestria for a summit, hosted by Twilight. Actually, he wasn’t in Equestria- he was in the Crystal ‘Empire’- though realistically, it’s more comparable to a small vassalage or a city state.

The only reason I know this is Dee sent us a delivery runner detailing all this stuff. Since Grover was gone, she was rolling out Phase 2 of the propaganda- that is, defaming the king. Her film, Demons Beneath Us, was a roaring success- causing widespread concern and fear over the Diamond Dog “threat” after being played in theaters all across The Confederacy- apparently there was even a “silent movie” version for older, smaller movie houses. It was played for free and advertised heavily too.

You wanna know the best part? Before the King left, he asked his Captain of the Guard to arrest Dee on suspicion of treason, to be tortured and to await trial until the king's return.

As it turns out, the Guard Captain was one of the first people on the “inside” she convinced to join our cause after I left- so when he went to tell her the news, he was even wearing his armband and pin. The king's wife was left in charge and quite frankly, she’s so ignorant of the current state of affairs that it’s kinda funny.

We'll be letting her eat cake soon enough.

Meanwhile, for the past couple of weeks we’ve been going from den to den to force their leaders to capitulate before we took the main fort. The tales of our brutality was all it took for many of them to surrender, so we were making fantastic time! Apparently, they were so affected by the blinding that whatever morale they had left just vanished. Even Bruce started calling me Godmother.

The routine itself was quite simple- we’d set up camp a couple hours march from the actual den itself and send in Bruce along with several other delegates to tell their stories and say “hey, we’re not fucking around.”

So when Bruce, who we sent off with an expeditionary force of 35 dogs returned with only six of them alive, we kind of realized the answer. I suspected that the last bastion of diamond dog “freedom” wouldn’t give up so easily; they’ve probably reached the conclusion that they have nothing left to lose by trying to mount a defense or maybe the top Alpha is feeling suicidal.

Thankfully, I had a speech prepared.

“Well, boys, we’ve made it this far. For two months, we’ve marched and fought and bled.” General shouts of agreement rang out from the crowd and I said, “So, here’s what’s gonna go down!

“We are gonna kick their asses so thoroughly that they’ll NEVER think of double crossing us ever again!” The crowd cheered, “THIS LAND BELONGS TO THE GRIFFONS!” they might have heard the shouting from Copseburgh.

Right now, I wanted nothing more than to go home and cuddle with my wife. “MARCH IN FORMATION!” The plan, having been discussed ahead of time, was well memorized by Ulysses and all the captains. Same thing with mental maps and the like- already taken care of.

I really have to stop the whole memory thing- I don’t even remember giving the info to anyone and about halfway through, Ulysses said I had another seizure. I guess I must’ve blanked the whole thing out.

Copseburgh was essentially a large hill with a stone fort on top and a massive cave complex below. As usual, the lads and I will jump down through a ventilation shaft and make our way upward, flooding the joint with gas as we went. Meanwhile up top, the line men would be making life hell for the dogs by firing their guns and generally being intimidating.

We’d even gotten upgrades- burning carbide lamps were generally a lot brighter than their oil-powered counterparts- plus the flame was exposed, meaning that it could light cigarettes or maybe even cauterize small wounds. Not sure how safe it is, but it’s better than bleeding out or dealing with nicotine withdrawal.

Ugh. Maybe Mamma was right about smoking? Whatever.

“Alright, let’s get this over with so I can go home and fuck my wife.” And by fuck, I really do mean cuddle.

“I say we kill ‘em all!” Jos yelled, turning her gas can to max.

Adrian silently gestured for us to follow him. While I was leading the army, Adrian was leading our group. Something about him just made him easy to follow.

We were making our way up one of the shafts when we realized something- where were the dogs? We were approaching a steep-ish incline where up ahead we saw something… odd. A light source- couldn’t have been brighter than a cigarette lighter.

“WHOEVER GOES THERE, STATE YOUR BUSINESS OR WE WILL SHOOT!” I wasn’t sure if this was a dog and quite frankly, I’d rather not shoot one of our own- after all, it could just be that pyromaniac chucklefuck from the red team. Guy gives me the creeps- never takes off his mask except to eat and is constantly laughing and giggling and humming during battle and loves molotovs… but shit, as long as he follows orders and only burns the enemy, he can be as unapologetically insane as he wants.

I mean shit, whatever keeps your snatch from dryin’ out, I suppose.

Tangent aside, whatever that light source was… started sparking and approaching us rapidly. I shot my pistol and the guy fell to the ground screaming… Then our eyes shot open in realization as a bundle of lit dynamite sailed over our heads like a majestic fuck-you eagle.

“FORWARD NOW!” Adrian yelled, and we all started charging forward.

What followed was an explosion coming from behind us that almost knocked me on my feet and made my ears scream with tinnitus. We didn’t have time to check if everyone was alright- the ground was trembling and our way back was being blocked by falling rocks.

So when we all looked at each other and nodded silently, we unhooked the heavy gas canisters and started hauling ass. I was running with my cutlass in hand and a cursory glance over to my friends showed me that, at the very least, no one was so injured that they couldn’t run.

“KEEP YOUR MASKS ON!” I yelled, hoping to God they could somehow hear me. As tempting as it was to abandon the masks, what with the gas being left behind us. We charged into a wide chamber full of diamond dogs and started swinging. I drove my cutlass through the chest of one holding another bundle of dynamite, which he dropped to the ground. I then pulled out a pistol and shot two more.

All six of us made quick work of the mutts.

“WHO THA’ HECK GAVE ‘EM DYNAMITE!?” Roscoe yelled. We decided to stop for a second, and make sure everyone was actually alright. Our ears were still ringing and we had to lift our masks AND yell so we could hear each other.

“THE HELL YOU ASKIN’?” yelled Fin, apparently just as deaf as the rest of us.

Overall, we were off to a shitty start. We had no gas left- we dropped the tanks back there to let us run faster and barely escape with our lives- but now we had an even bigger problem.

Another wisp in the darkness turned to sparks flying our way and the worst part was we could barely hear each other.

“ADRIAN!” I screamed, and the lit bundle of dynamite shook the ground so bad that I’m not gonna lie, I think I pissed myself a bit. He saw it and was able to jump to the side to avoid it… and he was now clutching the bloody bag that protected his wing from the gas, still attached to his body. He quickly gestured for me to come over and I said to the rest,

“GET INTO AS DEFENSIVE A POSITION AS YOU CAN!” I grit my beak, running over to Adrian. I tore the sleeve that the wing was inside off and I think we both realized how fucked it was. His wing was peppered with rocks and debris- but thankfully, his metal armor held. I grabbed a tourniquet out of my emergency pack and cut the blood off from the rest of the wing.

I eyed the roll of bandages and, almost in a panic, I yelled “Where do I even start!?” He clenched his beak and growled,

“Just cut the fuckin’ thing off!” I was taken aback!

“Are you fuckin’ insane!? No, no I’m not cutting your wing off, you’ll never fly again!”

“This wing is beyond saving, just chop it!” he demanded, and I stood there frozen. He yanked his mask off and grabbed his wing in his beak, wincing as he pulled it taut. “Right below the tourniquet! We don’t have time!” he yelled, voice muffled by his own wing. He looked at me with a fiery determination in his eyes… I nodded.

“Sorry, bud.” I said, taking my sword and grounding my good friend for life. I then tore a paper cartridge out of my cloak and poured gunpowder on the wound. Grabbing my acetylene torch, I looked him in the eye and he nodded, biting down on his own wing like a leather strap.

“GAAAAAH!” he yelled as the powder deflagrated, launching thick smoke into the air. I can only imagine what it was like to taste your own flesh and blood, feeling your beak crushing the bones of your own wing like a fistful of barroom peanuts. The bleeding had stopped and Adrian spit his wing out.

“Alright, then.” He spoke with a dark anger in his voice, putting his helmet back on and forgoing the mask entirely. “They want to fight so bad, then we’ll give them a fight.” he was smiling and I… was feeling turned on, not even gonna lie. Having finally said fuck it, I yanked my gas mask off and took a breath of air which was not fresh and in fact, it smelled like burnt flesh and gunpowder.

We simply looked at each other and nodded. Our friends were positioned behind large boulders for cover and both of us whistled.

“LET'S GO!” I shouted out, hauling ass with a pistol out to keep up with Adrian. The diamond dogs were afraid of the lunatics running at them with sword and gun at the ready, as you can imagine. Coupled with the fact that we had four more guys running behind us, we had those fuckers on the run!

This lasted for about an hour, with Adrian and I charging in the front, killing anything that moved, dodging bundles of dynamite once in a while. Either these dogs didn’t want to fight or they were dumb as hell; both possibilities are just as likely. I think they’re throwing them without aiming them.

As we ran, every once in awhile we would stop to take out a bunch of mutts or have a quick breather, where Adrian and I were called many different variations of fucking insane; despite this, they would still pat us on the back and cheer us on.

The strategy was genius- KEEP FUCKIN’ PUSHING!

In retrospect- perhaps we could’ve taken out all the dens without gas- but then again, the dogs are terrified of the stuff. Especially the ones from Goldcairn; one needs only point at a canister of chlorine to get them shaking. And besides- a little insurance never hurt and quite frankly, I’m not worried about the whole ‘war crime’ thing because we’re winning.

In fact, we were so confident that when we saw a bright light that signaled the exit, we all charged forward!

Then, the largest explosion I’ve ever heard went off above our heads. The ground shook intensely and the roof was collapsing; I didn’t have to tell anyone to run.

The ground kept shaking as the roof itself started caving in. There must have been a massive dynamite explosion within the fort a ways behind us- the fort itself being swallowed by the very earth.

In my fear and excitement I wasn’t paying attention to where I stepped, tripping and falling. Shit shit shit, not good.

“H… HELP!” I screamed pathetically, holding an arm out. Adrian skidded to a halt and charged at me, jumping on top of me to try and use his body as a shield. “Oh, no…” I muttered as the roof collapsed on top of both of us.

After a few seconds, the dust began to settle, a bone-chilling quiet shared between the both of us- if we were both still alive, that was.

“You alive?” I heard the muffled voice of Adrian and breathed a sigh of relief. “You fuckin’ better be.”

Shit, was I alive? Were we alive? It was dark as shit and quite frankly, things looked grim. Both of our torches went out, not that there’d be any room to use them. I began mentally checking my body- and when I tried to move my back right leg, I almost yelled from the pain.

“I’ve been better.” I said, dearly wishing I had a cigarette. “Leg hurts like a motherfucker, though. How you feelin’?”

“I’ve been better. I’m sore all over but I think the armor did its job. My left wing is probably broken, but my right wing is gone anyway…” then, after a few seconds he added, “And I kind of need a shit.” And I started chuckling.

“Motherfucker I swear to God I will kill you myself if you do that- and I don’t give a damn if we’re both dead anyway!” He chuckled faintly and said,

“What’re you gonna do? Bite my balls off?” He asked,

“Fuck it, I might.” And after a few seconds, we burst out laughing. We were dead men, as far as I was concerned. Might as well go out with a laugh. “You know, if they dig us up like this they’re gonna think we were 69-ing in our last moments.” He snorted.

“Can’t think of anyone better to do it with.” I raised my eyebrows and after a few seconds of silence he asked, slightly nervously, “I didn’t offend you, did I?”

“Nah, of course not. It’s just…You! Made a sex joke! You, Adrian!” He snorted back laughter and said,

“To be fair, I think we’ve all changed somewhat.”

“And ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.” I agreed, feeling faintly lightheaded. After a few seconds of silence, I thought of something.

“Hey, Adrian. If we make it out of here alive I…” I paused, wondering how to put this. I mean, we were both dead men anyway. “My wife and I, we’ve been talking about kids for a good bit now. I think you can do the math.”

After what felt like a solid minute passed, he said “You want me to be a surrogate father?” I nodded then realized that he wouldn’t see it,

“Y-yeah.” I said, blushing lightly. “And when I take over, you can have whatever you want, man. Seriously, I owe you big time if we survive.” After a few seconds, I heard him laugh and wondered how much more oxygen we had left before I died.

“Tell you what, since you lopped off my wing we’ll call it even.” He then added, “And if you need a surrogate, fuck it. I’ll do it.” My smile threatened to split my beak.

“Thanks, man.” I said, feeling much woozier now. I was… feeling nervous. “And if we die here, I’m glad I was with you in our final moments.” He snorted and… nothing.

We just sat there in total silence, each of us pondering whether or not we’d survive. It… wasn’t looking good. I thought about Dee, about Mamma, about Emmie. I sniffled, tears rolling down my cheeks as panic set in.

“I-I don’t want to die here, Adrian.” He kept silent, probably out of interest in preserving oxygen. I hoped to God he wasn’t gone already. Oh god, will they even find me to give me a proper funeral? Will I be so rotten that Mamma won’t even be able to have an open casket?

I felt my conscious fading in and out, and strings of thought were harder and harder to keep in line. Who was I kidding- they’re never gonna find us here. God knows how deep we actually are here.

Overall, I think I’ve lived a good life. And hey, who knows? Maybe I’ll just come alive again like the last time! Reborn in a whole new world to ruin!

Before I went unconscious, I thought about Dee some more since I knew that the only way I’d be able to see her is mentally. I couldn’t even take my helmet off to look at that picture and it would’ve been too dark anyway.

---

“She’s waking up!” There was an oxygen mask being pressed against my beak and Adrian was receiving the same treatment. I could hear cheering all around me and I wanted to roll over and return to the nap I was taking in a bed of dirt. Briefly, I assumed I blacked out during a bender but then remembered the fact that I’m supposed to be… you know…

FUCKING DEAD!

“He’s waking up, too!” I breathed a sigh of relief so hard that I erupted into a coughing fit.

“Any way I can get a smoke?” I asked the nurse holding the mask, who cocked an eyebrow incredulously. “What? After having a whole ass fort dropped on my head, you think one ciggie will kill me?”

“It very well might, Mrs. Grimfeather.” The doctor said as the nurses loaded Adrian and I onto gurneys. It looked like they forced a bunch of diamond dogs to do all the digging, probably under the threat of being shot.

“The uh… leader alpha, whatever the fuck his name is. Bring him to me.” He was ushered over to me, where he seemed quite nervous.

BANG!

Naturally, I pulled my gun out and shot him in the balls. He doubled over, clutching his shattered jewels while everyone cheered me on.

“You’re a lucky bastard that I’m fucked. So the next time I see you, I’ll sodomize you with a bundle of lit dynamite. Capisce?” He nodded rapidly before slowly falling to the ground in agony. I looked to the doctor and said,

“Have someone sew his bag back up. I intend on following through with that threat, the son of a fuck.”

I was carried off to a medical tent where many other soldiers were being treated. There was… an unfortunate amount of injured. Not sure how many are dead; I haven’t seen the casualty report yet and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. All I knew was I was definitely gonna commit dynamite sodomy once this was all said and done.

“We’re gonna give you something for the pain, alright?” I nodded and noticed a concerning amount of nurses crowding my bed.

“Woah woah, I don’t want any special treatment, you hear?” I said as I was jabbed by a syringe in the leg- at first I winced, but whatever pain I felt was replaced with a sort of warm, fuzzy feeling all over. “Whew, that’s the good stuff!” I said, my speech slowing considerably.

“I can assure you, you’ll receive no different level of care.” I simply nodded, muttering good under my breath. I noticed that Adrian was looking over with an odd look in his eyes. Just as I felt myself falling asleep with my eyes open, I yelled over to him,

“Why you’s lookin’ so glum? We fuckin won!” I said, giggling faintly, “The mutts belong to us!” he smirked and gave me a thumbs up. I was so ecstatic by our victory that I didn’t even mind the fact that I was rapidly losing consciousness.

I looked down to where the nurses were cutting the laces to my boots. “Hey, fuckin watch it! I need that boot!” The nurse glanced over to me with an odd look in her eye, and I realized that I was high as hell on morphine and maybe I was seeing things.

Then when the nurse removed the boot, they told me that my exact words were: “Oh, that’s not good.” Again- I was doinked out of my gourd on morphine. Below the knee, my rear leg and foot looked like shredded meat and rocks.

“You guys can fix me, right?” I said, deciding it was almost time for bed. The nurse simply looked at me and nodded.

“Hmm. Good.” I said, slowly falling asleep. “Call my wife and someone get me a cig’rit.” Never mind the fact that phones haven't really been invented yet.

So, that nurse I asked? Perhaps I should’ve been more specific with my definition of fix. Apparently, the nurse I asked was holding a bone saw.

And on that note...

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

As always, thank you so much for reading! Likes and comments are always greatly appreciated!