Well, this certainly seemed like death. A cold black void seemed to stretch out ahead of him, no beginning nor end in sight. Was this some pony’s cruel interpretation of hell? The sheer nothingness could drive any insane. But as a distinct pain began to rapidly fill Azzal he realized that it may in fact not be his time just yet.

The strong smell of blood had filled the room, a sharp metallic aroma that seemed to trigger all kinds of warnings. The room around them was dimly lit, only a single lamp giving its light. So this wasn't death after all. No, the pain was returning to his body. Along his neck he felt a burning sensation that caused his eyes to rapidly flinch. His limbs only just started to regain proper movement. His breathing started off heavy and only became worse, almost gasping for air. The sound it made was almost a low drone, a harsh metallic sound as the air passed through where his mouth was. Azzal reached up a hoof to feel across his face, expecting to find some kind of life support, but what he found was something far worse.

Covering his mouth was a mechanical mask of sorts, a number of filters and circulatory devices constructed by the Tech Priests most likely. Straps were bound across either side of his head and up his forehead to keep it fixed in place. Inside he could feel the inner working of the device in effect, preventing his throat from collapsing in on itself. This thing was all that was keeping him alive, such a delicate thing.

After a bit of initial struggle Azzal forced himself to sit upright on his haunches. Looking around the room the images were at first inconceivable, his sight blurred by the procedure. As he slowly regained focus he found himself still in one of the war tents. They were still in Equestria then, the war continued. His neck was still in a sense of agony, only now realising that they must have had to cut it partly open to successfully complete the surgery. But now all those field doctors and Tech Priests were gone, leaving the Pegasus to entertain himself on his recovery.

From the entrance came a mare who appeared to be one of the few doctors they had, judging by the amount of blood on her coat. She did not offer much of a warm smile, in fact she seemed to be a bit startled now that she had a chance to get a good look at Azzal with his new life support.

“I see you’ve had a chance to get familiar with yourself.”

When Azzal tried to speak his voice trailed off into a series of metallic drones and hums. Swallowing a small amount of blood in his throat he tried to speak again, finding it rather difficult with restricted mouth mobility.

“It could be worse.” He voice did not have its sly tone about it anymore. All hints of that were replaced by a deep and muffled tone, seemingly adding to his intimidation. Surely only daemons spoke like that.

The mare certainly noticed, cringing slightly at his words. “Well that’s true. We’ll keep you under watch for another hour while you get used to your new respiratory system. You certainly had a close call with death. After that the generals have requested you attend the hearing of Sil Ran’s death.”

Oh right, he was dead wasn't he. Azzal did not regret having off with his idiotic lord, but he only wished he had not been so foolish as to let him strike back. The results speak for themselves.

“For now you may just want to rest while I look over things with the other doctors. The Tech Priests have already gone over your life support and guarantee its efficiency although they plan on doing slight modifications and upgrades to it ever now and then.”

“So I’m one of their little test projects.”

“Well it seemed like the most convenient time to test out this new technology. It has the potential to save hundreds of lives once they work out how to simplify it. But enough on that for now, if you need anything else just give me a shout. I’ll be just in the other tent.”

“Will do, now go.”

After an hour had passed and the doctors felt comfortable with letting Azzal go out on his own, the old warrior turned up at the war tent to meet with the other generals. Sil Ran’s body had been long cleared and the room cleared and organised. Around the table sat the same tribal and military leaders under Sil Ran’s rule, all of them casting Azzal a harsh glare as he entered.

“Azzal Khan, it’s about time you arrived. We will be brief then.” Har Dellas stood up among the generals and addressed the new arrival, flinching a bit at the sight of his modification. “We simply wish to run over last night’s events so that we can clear this up before proceeding with any plans of war. Surely you can understand.”

The Khan sat down around the table with his fellow ponies, looking across to meet Dellas’ gaze, the slow drone that crept into his voice serving to further intimidate those around him. “If that is all you wish to know then. I returned to Sil Ran after my journey to Canterlot to discuss the terms of surrender. They denied them and so bring war upon themselves. As for Sil Ran he gave me little chance to explain for he was on me. Pulling the knife from my side he attempted to drive it through my throat, almost succeeding. But I managed to fend him off, even if that means he is now dead.”

All the generals exchanged weary and somewhat worried glances to each other, none daring to question Azzal’s word. Finally the mare known as Arin Suladan spoke up, but not to oppose him.

“Azzal has proven his loyalty in the past and he has lead us this far without fail. Many of you may not trust him, but I can say he has done a damn amount more of leading-.”

Dellas quickly interrupted. “Sil Ran was champion, he lead us to an age of prosperity in the east. I would not scoff at this so swiftly.”

“All that prosperity brought us more famine and death. Azzal has lead us to a new world that is fertile and aplenty with resources.”

Dellas sat back and looked at the mare with a scowl and then back to Azzal. “It seems that you have a follower. So be it then; the council will vote on who shall take up temporary command as till such time as we may hold a formal appointing."

He spoke again with a slight sneer in his tone. “Now, who objects to Azzal Khan taking command?”

They did little to speak out against him, Azzal looking across the table with a menacing stare. It was hard to keep him in sight for a few seconds without felling the need to turn away.

“So it is settled then; Azzal will seize control of the vassal s and coordinate the attack on the city. May the gods look favorably upon us.”

If it was possible for the Khan to let out a slight smile under his mask, then that was exactly what he was doing. After years of clawing his way through rank and rivalry he had finally reached the stage where he had an army of near thousands under his command. Now his plans would be fulfilled and all opposition crushed. Whatever plans Azzal Khan held they certainly would not favor any.

Next Chapter: Sweet Dreams Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 55 Minutes