There was a faint crackle of fire coming from an old, burning filing cabinet. It provided little to no light; as a matter of fact, it could be detrimental, acting as a call to investigate. The darkness both hid and exposed Powers to the worst. He could not see, but he could not be seen. It was all a game of chance.

This was not the first time the darkness had been both an ally and an enemy to Powers. Thankfully, he didn't need to see his enemies to sense them, he could already feel them. Their peeling eyes tearing across this desolate landscape for another meal to fill their forever-empty bellies.

The silence and the darkness ate away at Caramel's mind, he just wanted something to happen; something to go wrong, even. It was better to at least have some insight to the terror that was chasing him.

The two came to a locked door. Powers attempted to swipe his "trump" card, but to no avail. The keypad beeped a deadly ring as it flashed red. Powers held his breath, waiting for the horde.

He counted to five in his head, knowing if they didn't swarm by then, they wouldn't swarm at all. The time passed to what seemed to be an hour. He waited five more seconds after the original, just to be sure. He began to turn around.

"Wait," Caramel began in a voice just above a whisper. "We can't go back, it's a dead end. Remember?" Powers thought, all that was left behind them was a tattered, old, bloody cot in a desolate, dank room. He turned his face back to the locked door. His brow furrowed with frustration. He grabbed the fail-safe handle, meant for opening doors during a power failure, and began to pull.

As if God himself was giving Powers a personal "fuck you" the door lock seemed to jam during the auto-free mechanism when the power shot out. Either that or something really expensive was behind this door.

Just as Powers was about to give up, he heard a tiny creak. His mind began to put the tiny pieces together, almost as if in desperation. If that door creaked, that means it must be weakened. If it's weakened, that means brute strength is possible to open it. All that's needed is a good, solid push.

In a few minutes this door would be opened and they would be one step closer to getting out of this hellhole. But again, God didn't exactly appreciate these two getting off so easy. Completely by chance, a Clot managed to stumble down the same exact, narrow hall that the two survivors had gone, and barely managed to see them through the heavy shroud of darkness that covered the entire corridor.

At the sight of another living thing, the creature let out a large, billowing scream that travel through almost the entire wing. After the alert, the Clot charged head on at the two. Powers pulled out his shiv and jammed the handle into the mouth of his pony companion.

Caramel was in more shock at Powers' action than the Clot's. He turned back to Powers, who had continued on wrestling with the door. He turned back to the being that was now fully charging the two. It had closed the gap to twenty meters now. A wave of thoughts passed through Caramel's mind as the creature closed in. Thoughts of running and possibly escaping, though at the cost of Powers. But he quickly suppressed them for he needed Powers probably more than Powers needed him.

He charged, though "charge" is a stretch of the true action, at the Clot. As he was but one meter away, he swung his head directly into the Clot's knee cap. Whether it was clumps of rust and blood flaking into his mouth or the distasteful crunch that sounded after the strike, Caramel knew for sure that a violent wave of vomiting was coming.

He attempted to pull the weapon out of the cringing creature but his body seemed to be more focused on hold back the fits of "purging" that his stomach would soon go through than mustering up strength to retrieve a weapon that he clearly didn't want to even hold.

Caramel pried at the shiv as hard as he could, but before the creature's knee was even close to giving way, the Clot clutched Caramel's mane and began pulling with a might that could be equivalent to that of a cornered beast.

Caramel screamed as his hooves began to lift off of the floor. Was this really how he was going to end? Caramel closed his eyes and held his breath. One second had passed as he heard another sickening crunch. He opened his eyes to see Powers had delivered the being a haymaker that could shatter an old piece of concrete with ease.

Caramel fell to the floor, the Clot's grip still as strong as ever. As he attempted to release himself, he looked up to where the Clot had come from. A massive Bloat had found its way towards the initial scream, a small pack of Clots attempting to shamble past it followed.

Caramel thought that Powers would've helped release him by now, but to his general surprise Powers was actually running at the locked door. As he tackled the passageway, the door gave out a loud, snapping noise. The door jolted back as it slid off the rail that was holding it in place.

Powers ripped the door open, the rusty metal screeching and cracking a cringe-worthy tone. After such, he grabbed at Caramel, brutally dragging him through the doorway by his mane. After the two were through the door, Powers tossed Caramel at a wall and began pushing on the door, attempting the snap it back onto its sliding rail.

The door clicked back into place and Powers slammed the metal piece of scrap as hard as he could, but it was stopped by a loud, cracking noise. Powers looked to see a blistered, green hand in the doorway. The Bloat pulled back the door, revealing only its face and half of its fleshy chest. It reared back and shot out its fatal bile at the mute.

Powers lifted his left arm to block the spew, a piercing sizzling sound occurring only moments later. Fighting through the pain, Powers managed to kick the enormous specimen in the stomach and into the pack of Clots behind it and completely slammed the door shut, temporarily locking it.

He took a few breaths before instinctively jutting back into the wall and clutching his arm in agony. He tried to scream, but only the sound of retching and coughing came out.

Caramel looked at the wounded man. Though he hesitated for only a moment, Powers could've sworn the horse-like creature was enjoying the spectacle. Caramel then ran into a nearby room to look for a first-aid kit, something with a red cross, something to at least help. Directly next to the door on the inside of the room was what he needed. He jumped up to the kit, grabbing it by the handle and using his body weight to rip it off the wall.

Bandages and needles fell out of the box as Caramel raced over to his injured ally, kit in mouth. He ran up to Powers and laid the box down in front of him. He began to open the kit, but was quickly pushed aside by Powers himself. He grabbed a blank bottle and began to spin off the top. He didn't care what it was or what it did, he just wanted to put something on this agonising wound. To at least convince himself that he was doing something to prevent that "checkmate".

The liquid began to bubble instantly as a new wave of pain washed over the masked man. He shot back again, attempting to not pass out from the sheer pain. Unfortunately, the behemoth of a man succumbed to the agony, the bile still eating away, slightly, at his arm.

Powers began to shift to his side, Caramel jumped to him to try and catch him, only to be nearly crushed by the man's surprisingly heavy weight.

He threw the man to the ground as lightly as he could, still letting out a loud bang in the process, and looked up from the ordeal. A horde was collecting on the other side of the door and the hallway opposite to it was completely shrouded by darkness. Caramel took a deep breath and clenched his teeth onto the man's clothing. This was going to be a long night.

=================

In the distance, a mechanical bang went off. Though, too far for Caramel to pick up. Slightly after the bang, a thunderous laughter echoed, something Caramel did manage to catch note of. A shiver made its way up his spine. He tried to think of something to push him through this pain, this hardship. He began to think of Twilight's smile...

================

Lewis sat in the chair facing out towards the window. All the candles had faded out, only the blue film of the moon lit the room. He gazed at the starry night, trying to forget his true duty. There was a silent, yet constant whisper, reminding him that he was meant for others to die. That the only thing he was ever good at was ending the lives of those "spawns of Satan".

He breathed a heavy sigh through his mask. He wondered why he kept it. It no longer served the purpose it was intended for; it was never really needed, actually. He began to think if it had some sort of symbolic value, something his subconscious might find reasoning with. He thought.

He was no longer human, that was for sure. Humans don't go through what he's forced to live with everyday. He's what humans used to make sure they would never have to do that. He was closer to a machine than to something with consciousness. He felt empty, he was empty. Just a shell, a tool for others to use when necessary. The only question that remained in his head was "When was this tool going to rust?"

===============

Skully sat at the edge of his bed, his cloth mask pulled down, revealing his pale face, his dark goggles still covering his demonic, bloodshot eyes. He stared at his lap, a set of comfortable sheets not inches behind him. His body reckoned for the rest, but his mind held a demanding lead as thoughts passed through. He knew of a night just like this, something moonlit, calm, blissful; only there was more color, more music, more sound, more death...

His mind screamed "NO!", he closed his eyes as if a pain shocked through him. He took a quick sigh. He tried to think of his duty, to protect mankind. But something silently whispered in his ear. "You cannot protect a corpse. All this hardship, it can end. There is safety here. There is no need to fight...

Skully shook his head. "Did I..." he began aloud, but finished in thought, "did I just say humanity was dead?" He shook his head again. There was no worse crime than betraying your own species, was there? "I just need sleep. Talking about betraying your own species, man I need to get my head outta clouds." Only, he didn't remember putting that information together, he didn't think it himself, did he?

He just wanted a break from it all, he did what one of his friends used to say, "think happy thoughts" and he did. He thought of a nice, warm beach. Nice clouds, perfect bliss at it's best.

"Someday, man." He said to himself. "Someday..." Suddenly his happy thoughts involved a skimpily-clad woman walking up to him right out of nowhere. "Thanks for throwing me a bone," he stated to himself. This was one of the few thoughts that didn't involve death and gore, and he was going to enjoy it...

================

A large, white pony laid down upon her large bed with a small stack of papers to her right. A half-dozen candles faintly illuminated the room as a weak beam of moonlight glittered through the curtains. This was a fine night, something to be proud of her sister for.

But right after that thought, Celestia's nerves seemed to weaken and give in. A small wave of fear tickled at the lower end of her spine. Something just didn't seem right to her, and it was the fact that she didn't know what that worried her more.

"What to do, what to do?" She said aloud, trying to calm herself. Though this was work that was needed to be done, but her mind was most definitely elsewhere. Those things, humans, they occupied her mindset for the evening. The very scenario seemed odd just when said aloud.

"Members of a once dominant species of a planet that was soon knocked way down the food chain by a similar yet more nightmarish species only labeled as 'specimens' that came here via a teleportation device that they admit themselves to being far ahead of their original technology." Right then and there another spec of trust managed to flake away from Celestia's thoughts about the humans.

What if this was all a ruse? That they are merely here to spy or weaken our defenses. I know it's a foolish thought, but I must take in every possible aspect and possibility. Their looks alone were enough to cause distrust among the guards, crusted in another beings blood. How can one take everything they say as truth and not feel somewhat deceived? But then Celestia nodded her head. She was a proper hostess, she would never evict a foreign guest, no matter how unruly or untrustworthy they seemed. Though she would keep a good watch on them.

Her eyes grew heavy, the stress of meeting this new, odd scenario was alien to Celestia, she was used to being in control most of the time.

Before, she could at least guess what the outcomes of certain situations would be. But now, the spontaneous nature of the alleged machine gave her a dreadful uncertainty. What was it's limit's, where did it's power stop. She knew nothing, she was in the worst possible place for her position, and the evening was just right for an attack...

================

At first, it was only the sound of a light fizzle, something you couldn't even notice if you tried. But then, it grew. It grew to a faint crackle, then snapping, then eventually the bang of particles ripping between dimensions, then finally the thundering bang of the portal opening.

A thunder that was alien to even the immortal Celestia. Her eyes shot open with a fear at the oddly familiar sound. A heavy weight tied around her heart and ripped it down to her digestive track. That dark eyed human was right, something had come knocking.

================

Kevin tried to push through the queasiness. Surely his children could ignore it, but he was needed at this hour, it took longer for a connection with the cloner to connect. But when it did connect, hell would surely surface. He managed to transfer the odd feeling and funnel it to that of pain, something that made him angry. And when he was angry, things got messy. And he loved it when things got messy.

The Patriarch was still on his knees when the first group of guards came witness to the sight. They all stared, that creature was a thing of pure fear. Something demons in their own mythology might fear to tread upon. The Patriarch looked up to the fear stricken ponies, he giggled a deep, ghastly laugh. The guards only shook more.

A large, white stallion walked from behind the first line. His armor made the suitor seem like a sentient battering ram, one with as much physical prowess as it had aesthetic poise.

"Come on, ya fillies." He began in a deep voice that seemed to be shaped perfectly to fit any character with authority. "I've seen worse than this sorry sack of fertilizer." He shuffled his front hoof like a bull, readying to charge.

Being somewhat inspired by the "speech", the rest of the group followed suit and began a "charging line" of sorts. In the front, pegasi and earth ponies ready to bear the brunt of the attack. In the rear, unicorns readying offensive spells for the intruder. This was a hilarious to the Patriarch, it reminded him of when the humans thought that order and intimation was enough to defeat him.

"Oh, you don't want to do this." The Patriarch began with a snide smile on his lips.

"CHARGE!" The commander stallion yelled, the line of guards running at the lone monster. Kevin didn't even bother to spin his chaingun. He cracked his neck and jammed his knuckles against his weapon, cracking them as well. As soon as he was done "preparing", a massive wave of various specimens zapped behind him, catching the ponies completely off-guard.

The commander tried to back up, but unfortunately his momentum dragged him close enough for the Patriarch to jam his claws into his neck. Gurgling in agony, the commander attempted to scream in pain as the specimens happily pounced at their meals. The Patriarch pulled the half-living pony close to his face.

"Thanks for the meal, I always loved delivery." With that, the Patriarch pulled his head back and smashed the pony's head in with his own forehead. He threw the corpse to the ground and began to laugh hysterically.

Just like old times.

================

There wasn't even a knock, Skully was caught completely off-guard. An armored unicorn came into the room greeted by the sight of a shirtless Skully with one hand behind his head and the other under the silk covers, near his waist.

"Why are you like that?" The guard asked the (oddly) still masked and goggled Skully.

"Because of reasons!" He said in a slightly angry, slightly shocked tone while trying to retrieve his clothes.

"Well, are you injured or something. We have some medics that can help you if-"

"I'm fine! What's the problem!?"

"It seems your theory was correct. We’re being invaded!"

"Invaded! Fuck." he put his chin in his clean hand. "Well, what are we gonna do? We can't fight it here. We’d need an army!"

"Precisely, that's why you and your friend have to be evacuated. You are the only two who know what we are up against. Hurry up and follow me, we need to get going now!" Skully began to climb out of bed.

"Alright, give me a damn tick, I'll be out in a minute." The pony nodded and left the room. "I hate everything..." Skully said quietly, under his breath.

================

Lewis was still sitting quietly, his thoughts not focusing on one single topic. He thought of outcomes, joy, death, and of random things like what his last meal was. He didn't want to sleep, he wanted to think. Thinking allowed him to be in control, to have power within his own mind. Dreams were the opposite, constricted and dense, something he was merely a rat in, another obstacle to overcome.

The door was smashed open. He didn't turn, he only grew furious, though completely by choice. At the very least, the angry would allow him to enjoy the act. The Clot approached him with as much curiosity as anger. It held a Bloat's cleaver, a weapon it had no idea how to use. It lifted it up and tossed it at the man.

Lewis was slightly caught by surprise at the attack, this was different from normal. Weapons were very alien to Clots, to most specimens really. They merely thought that what weapons they had were always there and would use them in the most inefficient ways, most of them at least.

Barely grazing some extra fabric of Lewis' suit, the cleaver fell in an arch that landed not a foot away. He finally turned around and uppercut the Clot with his good hand, though it was his bad hand as well. His knuckles throbbed with a surprising pain, he never really did much with his left hand, things became a lot less fun in Lewis' mind then.

The Clot was only thrown slightly off balance, not even enough to trip it though. Lewis quickly, yet calmly turned around and picked up the meat-slicing utensil. He always thought that sharp objects were a sloppy way of disposing an enemy, but now things were slightly desperate.

He lifted the blade up and swung it down overhead the pale being. The sloppy crunch of the blow was distasteful to Lewis' ears and the softening glide as the blade met a resistance of tissue and muscle that gradually slowed the dull blade felt unnatural to Lewis.

He observed his damage, the blade was dug in deep enough that only an inch or so of the cleaver was still left out of the body. He guessed that the Clot's collar bone was shattered and was in a burning agony, though it felt wrong, he pulled the blade out and readied another blow.

As he released the cleaver from the Clot's body he gave it a strong kick to give himself some space, successfully knocking the dying creature to the ground. He walked over to the body, the creature looked into his eyes. He could see the pain that burned through it, it almost looked... human.

Lewis shook his head as a wave of rage coursed through him. He slammed the blade directly into it's head, another distasteful crunch. Lewis opened his eyes again. The cleaver had dug itself so that the back of the top of the Clot's head was punctured, leaving about six inches of skull and skin between the end of the blade and the front of the Clot's twisted-in-agony face. Lewis chuckled, but only at the fact of how clumsy his swipe was.

He jammed his boot into the face of the creature and held a firm grip on the handle of the blade. He pushed with his foot and pulled with his arm in short, sporadic jolts as the biomass broke and snapped. The skull crunched as the blade slowly inched it's way out of the cranium and the skin snapped and tore as it was pulled against the dull, rusty, metal surface.

Lewis couldn't quite tell for sure, but one could swear that the Clot made lip motions of "P" and "M" before the man completely decimated the creatures face by pulling the blade fully through it's skull. Skin and some pieces of bone managed to jam in a way so that some of the Clot's flesh jutted out of the "exit wound" of the blade. Lewis would've chuckled at that sign too, if it weren't for the sound of feet, or rather hooves, coming down the hall.

Lewis relaxed his shoulders, put his foot and the shoulder of the (assumed) dead Clot, and pushed its body behind the bed. He did not want to explain the heinous shit that had just happened. He couldn't even begin to think of why he even did it. His heart picked up at the very thought of trying to explain it.

Skully was the first to enter the room.

"Hey man," He began, slowing down as he saw the patch of blood on Lewis' chest. "I see you've already welcomed some of the guests." He cocked his eyebrow, "I thought you didn't like using knives and stuff."

"I was desperate." Lewis said in a clear monotone.

"Riiight. Well, let's get going. I'm afraid the party's been crashed and it's a real S.N.A.F.U.."

Lewis jolted, slightly at the statement, "what, we're just gonna leave the castle? Don't we usually hold it with our lives? Isn't it like, the last line of defense or somethin'?"

"Not really, it's just symbolic. The Princess herself said that this head-piece wasn't worth losing everything over, there are other advantageous areas to hold up, this one's been compromised."

"Well fuck..." Lewis began as he tried to form a more correct response to the situation. Skully quickly interrupted him for they didn't have much time.

"My words exactly! Now let's get going before Patty starts kickin' down doors. Rumor has it he's not just here for the bloody curtains." Lewis nodded and started for the door. A raunchy stench penetrated Skully's skull mask, he flinched at the sense. "Bloody Hell! You forget how to flush or somethin'!? It smells like somethin'-"

"We don't have the time, remember?" Skully stared at the masked man for a few seconds. The eye lenses were tinted dark, but he could've swore that Lewis held a crazed look in his eyes. He shivered again.

================

A row of guards stood behind a door.

"What's behind it?" One asked.

"Hell if I know." Another returned. "We just gotta make sure whatever this is stays in these halls. Who knows what'll happen if whatever's there gets out?"

"What is it,even? Nightmare Moon? Discord? Changlings?"

"First off, Nightmare Moon is gone, Discord is stuck in stone and there's no way he could get out, and we pushed those changeling bugs so far back down in the hole they crawled out of they won't know which way is up for years. It's gotta be something different."

"Then what?" The group went quiet for a moment, a silence that was broken by a gut-wrenching squish. The guards all cringed at once, it seemed. A few began to shake.

The commander of the group nodded to one of the unicorns in the back, he returned the nod and motioned to the other unicorns. They all took stances as their horns began to glow. The thunder of heavy feet pounded through the halls. Then, there was a silence, a long silence.

One second later the Patriarch smashed through the door, revealing his face and his claw arm.

"Heeeeere's, Kevin!" He laughed as a concussion spell hit him right in the forehead. He growled as he retreated from the opening. He took one half-step back and kicked the double doors with a force that knock them both clear off the hinges. The debris crushed a total of five stallions and injured two more with the flying splinters.

The ponies stood in awe as the Patriarch held a stance in the doorway, not moving, only soaking up the priceless reactions of the ‘unstoppable guards of the palace’. He grinned and began to spin up his chain-gun. He took aim at the center of the legion, but was caught off guard by a barrage of concussion spells making contact with various points in his body.

He stumbled to his knee by all the blows, which soon stopped after the unicorns saw the damage they had dealt. He looked up again with another grisly grin. Suddenly, a massive horde of Crawlers jumped from the ceiling on top of the group, the Patriarch had seemed to only be a distraction as the true attack had gotten into place.

The Patriarch had begun to laugh hysterically again as he pulled out a glowing, red syringe and jammed it in between his ribs. As the red liquid entered his bloodstream, he looked up to the ceiling and screamed a terrible roar. He looked back down to see the group of guards either trying to stomp on the Crawlers or trying to wrestle them off as more had swarmed the narrow hallway. The battle was quickly drawing to an end. The specimens with no loses yet.

If the Patriarch still had tear ducts, he would've cried at the beautiful sight.

================

The three beings quickly walked down the hall. The sound of crashing and battle echoed through the halls. The specimens were quickly spreading.

"So," Skully began with an awkward pause, "never got your name." The guard pony looked back at him.

"Does it really matter right now? I'm only escorting you to the carriages, then we'll never see each other again."

Skully cocked his eyebrow at the impudent pony. "Well, it's something to talk about, to calm the mood about the fact that there's a giant horde of things that generally want to see your organs splattered about the floor."

The pony groaned. "Seeker." He said in a monotone voice.

"Seeker..." Skully led on.

"Just Seeker, it's what my friends call me and I know you just need to be my friend. So it's just Seeker." Skully cocked his eyebrow again, and began to slightly grind his teeth.

"Alright, Seeker, where's this damn station or whatever it is we're headin' to?"

"It's just around this-" Seeker's sentence was interrupted by a blood-soaked Gorefast smashing through a nearby door. "What the Hell is that!?" Seeker said as he fell to the ground.

Without hesitation Skully rammed his shoulder into the occupied beast, smashing it against a wall. He grabbed it's jaw (or rather, where it's jaw should be) and bladed arm and pinned it against the wall.

"RUN!" He yelled to the two, "There'll be more! I'll catch-up!" Lewis nodded and turned to Seeker. Instead of leaving a soldier behind, he ran at the specimen but was grabbed by the mane.

"We don't have time!" Lewis said, "He can take care of himself." Seeker nodded and turned down the corridor. The two left the DJ behind.

Skully quickly released the creature's jaw and maneuvered his arm so that it was now caught in a headlock. He then kicked with both feet to the wall and smashed the Gorefast's head into the opposite wall. He released it full and ran down the hall the other had done not one minute ago.

As Lewis and Seeker ran down the hall, Lewis caught quick sight of a door labeled "Armory".

"Wait!" He yelled, Seeker turned back to him. "Do ya got a key for that?" He said pointing at the door."

"Of course, but I don't think we have the time."

"There's always time for guns! Come on, let's get goin'!" Seeker ran down the hall as Lewis followed. His horn glowed as a key levitated to the lock. As he twisted it, Lewis Kicked the door with all his might. Seeker gave an angered look to Lewis, but to no avail as he was already rushing to his own firearms.

Lewis stood in awe, after being away from his weapon for so long it felt good to finally have some firepower back in his hands. He grabbed his shotgun and the bag of shells that went with it, along with three 9mm pistols and Skully's sword. It's amazing that these weapons were able to pass through as well. I guess Patty isn't all bad...

He jammed two shells into the double barrel and began to walk out of the armory with Seeker.

"Are we done? These isn't anymore errands you need to do? Have you got your laundry?"

"Ah, shadup. Just get me to the damn evac!"

"Hmmph" Seeker said as he turned to the direction of the courtyard which held the carriages. Hopefully some pegasi were left, otherwise they were walking.

They had finally come to the door that lead out to the courtyard. Lewis put his back to the surface to the right of the door. He rested the barrel of the weapon on his right forearm and readied for the door to open. Seeker twisted the handle with the magic of his horn and slowly creaked the door open.

Lewis sighed and he turned to face the door and kicked it, all in one smooth movement. The courtyard was empty. There were a few carriages, but any form of propelling those carriages seemed to have already left.

"God dammit!" Lewis said as he stomped down his boot upon "dammit". Seeker looked around, this was very unusual. Typically, even if the castle was under siege, the pegasi in charge of running the carriages were trained to never leave. Something must've been up.

Skully entered the room, Seeker hung his head. Before any words were spoken, Lewis instinctively handed Skully his arsenal, two 9mm and his trusty sword.

"Hey, where's the evac?" He said. "What's goin' on?" Lewis turned back to him. He shrugged as Skully grew angry. "Dammit!" All that time and we coulda just made a run for it!" Skully thought for another moment. He looked over to Seeker, who had a defeated-sort of look on him. Not complete, but damn well close.

"Lemme guess, only way out's on the other side of the castle?" Seeker nodded. "Well shit. Let's get goin' then."

Seeker turned to Skully, "What!? Don't you know that the castle is probably filled with those... things!"

"Yeah," He began, "but we should at least go down tryin' to escape. No point in sittin' here waitin' to die!" Seeker furrowed his brow yet again. He was about to say something, but his sentence was cut off by the sound of heavy breathing. It sounded like a Fleshpound, but was much worse.

Skully was the first to view the massive creature. The first sight was his large, chain-gun arm. His eyes widened behind his goggles. The creature began to laugh.

"Well, well. How utterly predictable. I knew you hapless vermin would only be looking for escape. Thank me that I'm a master at guessing." The Patriarch grinned his evil, wide-mouthed grin, a sign that death was imminent. "So," His eyes jumping from each victim to another, "care to go the easy way and scrunch up in a nice little ball? Or am I gonna have to waste some more ammo?"

Skully looked at Lewis, he nodded to the DJ as Skully gave Kevin the finger. As Skully did that, Lewis sprung up his shotgun and blasted both barrels at the monstrosity. The bullets peppered his chest, and even made him stumble back, but for the most part he was unfazed.

The Patriarch pressed a series of buttons on his arm and a compartment on his weapon opened up. He aimed the gun at the three and flexed a muscle on his arm.

Thankfully, before the missile launched, all three jumped to different directions to avoid the blast. The only damage that was done by the missile was a large crater in the porcelain tile flooring. The Patriarch triedto load another warhead into his arm, but a shock wave of pain and force smashed him into a nearby wall.

He turned to the being that caused this and was greeted by a majestic, tall, white pony wearing a large, golden crown and a long glowing horn.

"You will stop your rampage now or you will face the utmost punishment for your crimes!" She boomed in a loud, demanding voice. The Patriarch could only laugh.

He jumped to his feet and pressed another button on his chain-gun arm. He aimed it as Celestia took her stance.

"Well then, it's about time I got a real battle." Celestia could only glare at the grinning beast. There was a moment of silence, of nothing happening at all. Though the two combatants stood perfectly still, they each played a million different scenarios through there heads. Each one ended with bloody battle...