Heart of War- Act III

>You stood overlooking the city.
>What’s left of it at least.
>When the guards saw you over the princesses, they didn’t even bother trying to fight you.
>The ponies that fought against you are currently under guard.
>A PoW camp was hastily being constructed outside of the city.
>Celestia and Luna were tossed into their own magic dampening cells in the dungeon.
>But the ponies in Canterlot want blood.
>As soon as the fires were extinguished, crowds formed demanding someone pay for the destruction.
>For now, you’ve said that an investigation is currently under way.
>Celestia all but admitted guilt to you, but due to the circumstances you aren’t ready to punish her.
>At least until this whole parasite business is dealt with.
>Casualty reports were starting to come in.
>Ten thousand of your soldiers were confirmed dead from the fighting, and three times that were caught in the blast.
>And at least eighty thousand civilians were in the area that went up.
>A few thousand were still unaccounted for.
>Your attention shifts to the sky.
>It’s been sunset for many hours.
>Flurry’s been trying to lower the sun and raise the moon for quite some time.
>She insisted that she could do it, but asked to be alone.
>You haven’t ever seen her so single-mindedly focusing a single action before.
>You’ve assumed that it’s to take her mind off of the day’s events.
>In the blink of an eye, darkness overtakes the horizon.
>A moment later, a slight illumination occurs as the moon shoots into the night sky directly overhead.
>Then it slowly retracts back to a position of having just being risen.
>Knew she had it in her.
>You sigh.
>You had hoped that the siege would be the beginning of the end of all of this.
>Instead it only feels like the end of the beginning.

>”Anon!”
>Flurry shoots into the air in front of the balcony you were on.
>”I did it! I actually did it!”
“I can see that.”
>”I’ve never been so drained, but I did it!”
>A few months ago and she would have laughed if you told her she would be soon raising the sun and moon.
>She’s always had great magical potential, but she never really pushed herself to use it.
>”Oh.”
>She says as her tone takes a somber turn.
>”Just look at me, laughing before a day has even passed since-“
“Enough of that. You couldn’t have stopped it, and it isn’t your fault. Besides, starting tomorrow you’ll be rather busy so you should enjoy your accomplishment while you can.”
>”Right about that…”
>She lands on the balcony and starts heading into the palace.
>You follow.
>”What is in store for tomorrow?”
“Well first we’ll be meeting with the other commanders here. From there we need to start building a provisional government to keep things running for the time being.”
>She leads you down a set of stairs.
“You should probably give a speech to the city, they could use some hope after what happened.”
>You reach the ground level and she starts pacing towards the throne room.
“After that we’ll have to deal with whatever pressing matters come up, and if you have some time it wouldn’t hurt to receive visitors.”
>You follow her up the steps to the throne itself.
>The window you broke has been boarded up
>And no one else was present.
>Flurry is currently staring at the throne.
>”Do I have to?”
“It’ll only be temporary.”
>”Then you take it.”

>Immediately you give a flat response.
“No.”
>”But I don’t even want the throne!”
“No.”
>”And why not?”
“You’re overvaluing my skill set kiddo; I’m a soldier not a politician.”
>”DON’T- don’t give me any of that. We both know that you’re more qualified than I am.”
“Flurry, a dangerous precedent has already been set when the army took this city. No matter the intentions I won’t let a military junta be formed.”
>”You’re the one who won the war, and you’re the one with the popular support.”
“Flurry. Enough. You’re the leader Equestria needs, not me. You’re only bringing this up because you’re unsure of yourself. Well listen here: I’ve watched you grow into the mare you are, and I have the utmost faith in your abilities.”
>”But with whatever is in my hea-“
“We’ll deal with it. I’ve seen nothing to suggest that you’re losing control of yourself. And as long as you don’t lose heart, you’ll remain in control.”
>Her voice takes an incredibly soft tone, and you can barely hear what comes out next.
>”I’m just not sure if I can live up to the expectations.”
“Flurry.”
>You reach down and perk her chin up.
“I raised you as best as I could, but it’s time to stop following in my shadow. You can do this, I know you can.”
>”Can I though? The first thing I ever did was nearly destroy the Crystal Empire. I’m named after the disaster for crying out loud!”
>You wonder how long she was hiding that from you.
“You were named for what kept the Empire from falling: hope. Hope that as blizzards were overtaking civilization, it could be saved. Not by action or magic, but because everyone there had the strength to continue. Your name means that no matter how bleak things can seem, if you hold onto even the faintest shred of hope, then you still have a chance.”
>”I… never really thought of it that way.”

>You suspect that the self-criticism has only been brought into full because of current events.
>After all, you’ve never heard her voice concern regarding her name.
“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
>”Churchill?”
>You place your hand atop her head and ruffle her mane.
“What, have I used that one before?”
>”About every other year.”
“Well the point still stands, you’ll do fine as long as you don’t give up.”
>”If you say so.”
“I do. Now you should head to bed, you’ve got to get up early tomorrow and you’ll need your energy to raise the sun.”
>”Didn’t you just finish saying how I need to decide things for myself?”
“And you better not stay up all night reading young lady.”
>”Yes Sir…”
>She said condescendingly before turning in.
>With that you started walking through the palace halls.
>About half of the old guard survived the blast, and they had become the de facto palace guard.
>They stood at attention whenever you passed a position or patrol.
>Soon you found yourself leaving the palace proper and heading into the gardens.
>You walked the path leading to the cliffside.
>In a small clearing overlooking the land below, a pyre had been set up.
>A pair of unicorns waited for you.
>When you approached, one levitated a torch over to you.
>As you grabbed it from the air, you ordered them to leave.
>The spears were removed and the blood spatters were cleared from his coat.
>You took a last look at the manticore before setting the kindling alight.
“Auf Wiedersehen Frederick.”
>You watched for hours as the funeral pyre fell into ash.
>When the fires had finally gone out, a unicorn came by to use magic to collect the ashes into a bronze urn.
>When you have the time, you’ll bring them back to the Everfree.
>It’s the least that he deserved.
>With that over with, you decided to retire for the night.
>You’ll have a busy day ahead of you.

>The following morning you and Flurry met with Admiral Brairheart and Major General Wave.
>It was decided that Brairheart would take up duties relating to industry, agriculture, and infrastructure.
>He was doing well keeping things running before you took the capitol, and now that he doesn’t have to worry about training and equipping an army as well, his plate should be much more manageable.
>The army is currently mostly volunteers, numbering around six hundred thousand across the nation.
>Unless something happens, you won’t be increasing the size.
>Once the Saddle Arabians are defeated, you’ll downsize to around two thirds the current amount to keep costs lower.
>The army is also going to be working on reconstruction of damaged areas.
>General Wave will be overseeing that effort.
>Smaller scale private ventures are going to be made legal once more, and over the course of the next few years the economy should go back to how it was before the wars of the past couple decades.
>Flurry decided that her first real act as Princess is to rescind the edicts that regulated personal liberties.
>It was agreed that given the military’s support, that internal strife will be virtually non-existent.
>With all of the pressing matters dealt with, you were about to adjourn for the time being.
>”One last thing.”
>Flurry says before the three of you can leave.
>”For my second act, I name Field Marshal Anonymous as Chancellor of the Equestrian state, and as my regent should the need arise.”
>Clever girl.
>She took de jure power just to make sure you couldn’t say no to being given de facto power.
>”I’d like you to personally start and oversee the investigation into the destruction of much of this city.”
>You give a response that only she would understand.
“So if you can’t have me as Frederick the Great, you’d have me as Bismarck”
>”Is that a problem?”
“No, I’ll do my duty… your majesty.”

>”You two can leave, I have a few more words for Anon.”
>The other commanders salute before leaving.
>As the door closes behind them Flurry speaks once more.
>”A few days ago I received a package.”
“Oh?”
>”Something I ordered to be made that I think you’ll enjoy.”
>She levitates a sizeable cardboard box out from under the table.
>You reach over and untie the string wrapped around it.
>A slight grin forms on your face as you look inside the box.
>”Took a while, but it had to be perfect.”
>You remove the jacket from the box and equip it over your beige fatigues.
“Vorwärts mit unserem Rommel.”
>”Just like the old one?”
“Needs to be broken in, but yes. Thank you.”
>”Don’t mention it. Now, if you’d excuse me I have a speech to prepare, and you have a job to do.”
>You watched as she left.
>She had stopped wearing the armor, and still forgoes any regalia.
>But she’s taken her locket out of storage and is wearing it once more.
>Your respective attire brings you back to before all of this started.
>And here the two of you are, back in the capitol once more.
>But neither of you would have envisioned this as what would have happened when you returned.
>And here you are, on your way to interrogate Celestia as a prisoner.
>You exit the small council room and start to make your way to the dungeons.
>It’s unlikely that she’ll be cooperative or even make a coherent point beyond ‘die traitor’ but it’s still a start.
>You have a plot to shed light on.
>You were never that good at court intrigue, but if Flurry wants you to play the role of a humble spymaster for a single job, then you’ll oblige.
>Time to see what you can get from Celestia.

>You enter the room and order the men patrolling her cell to leave.
>Slowly you start to pace clockwise around the cell.
>Celestia is just sitting in the center of it.
>It’s a standard magic proofed cell: Horizontal bars every foot going up that are in turn a foot deep.
>The magical dampening effect won’t completely cut off her ability to use magic but it blocks teleportation, and the shield stops anything from exiting the cage.
>She remains silent as you go around the square cell.
“Tell me about the gunpowder plot.”
>She replies soft yet firmly, like she’s still full of rage but it’s a focused and direct hate.
>”The only thing I’ll talk about is your punishment.”
“Cut the melodrama.”
>”A good flaying seems appropriate.”
>As you reach the front of the cell, you stop and lean forwards on the bars, staring into the cell.
“Shut up parasite, it’s over and you lost. Now that I’ve beaten you, can Celestia come out and play?”
>”You’re delusional.”
“And you’ll need a name.”
>”What?”
“Do you guys have names? Probably not. Alright how about Bob?”
>”And you call me unstable.”
“Bob, I need to know what your big plan was.”
>”Who are you talking to?”
“I’m not screwing around here Bob; tell me what you did to this city!”
>”MY NAME IS NOT BOB!”
>You smirk.
>The bugs aren’t in actual control of the hosts; they’re just animals that mess with brain chemistry.
>”Alright, Celestia, look. We both know you gave the order to sky high more than a few blocks. But I doubt you did any of the real dirty work or logistics. I want the names of those that did.”
>”I will tell you one thing I did.”
“And what would be that?”

>”The attempt on your life and that of your little usurper-”
“Oh come on, how dumb do you take me for, of course you ordered it.”
>Her lips seal as you rob the opportunity to gloat.
“But, I get the Appleoosa stuff, the attack on me in the hospital, and the ambush of Flurry’s army. But why did you order agents to try and disrupt the negotiations with the griffons, don’t you actually want the war to end?”
>”Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for that one.”
>Because it never happened.
>She didn’t deny the other accusations.
“Well we’re getting nowhere. Maybe a few days will get you ready to talk.”
>You turn to leave.
>”Sooner or later I will be free of this cell. And when I do, I will watch as the defiance is drained from your dying body.”
“What the old ‘I will kill you’ speech. I’d tell you to get in line, but you won’t be going anywhere really.”
>You leave the room as the guards resume their patrol.
>From what Flurry told you about Cadence you knew that you wouldn’t get any clear answers.
>At least you managed to glean a couple of tidbits from it.
>You start walking through the dungeon hallways.
>It’s looking like you won’t be able to outlast the parasites.
>Reports say that there hasn’t been any change in Cadence’s condition.
>Locking the hosts up doesn’t affect the bugs in any discernable way.
>And you can’t win the waiting game against ponies that have been around for over a thousand years.
>You eventually get to your destination on the opposite side of the dungeons.
>Time to see what you can get from Luna.

>You enter a room identical to Celestia’s.
“Leave us.”
>The patrolling guards make for the door as you approach the cell in the center of the room.
>”Greetings Anonymous.”
“Luna.”
>”I must say that I am rather relieved.”
“Oh?”
>You’d guess the next thing will be about how you have sealed your fate, or that it’s clear that you’ll fall soon enough.
>”I had thought that older… tendencies were surfacing once more.”
>This is probably some kind of trick.
>”I failed to restrain myself because I was using the wrong mental preparations.”
>When you confronted her, it did sound like Cadence managed to break through for a moment.
“So how exactly do you explain that you’re supposedly managing to suppress it while Celestia can’t?”
>”Oh, almost every fiber of my being wants to… I shall spare you the details.”
>The details being how she would decorate the palace walls with your entrails.
“Uh huh.”
>”Tell me how many died in the bombing?”
“At least a hundred thousand.”
>”I failed them. But to answer your question, I have centuries of experiences as host to corrupting influences.”
“And how do I know that you and your sister just didn’t plan to play good cop/bad cop?”
>Well, good prisoner/bad prisoner seeing as how the roles have reversed.
>”You don’t.”

>Fair enough.
>”However, the events of my life currently prove to be both a blessing and curse.”
“Because you have just as many centuries of baggage that the parasite can feed off.”
>”Indeed.”
“What does it feel like?”
>”Strange, as if nothing has actually changed. The urge to punish you seems as natural as breathing. I suppose it was the bombing itself that momentarily broke the illusion.”
“And how do you explain that you’re still in control now?”
>”For many years in my subconscious I thought that I was reverting. It is possible that when you mentioned the parasite while the shock of so much destruction weakened it’s grasp on me, that I was able to comprehend that new strategies were needed to fight the corruption inside of me.”
“Even if you’re telling the truth, we both know that I can’t risk releasing you.”
>”I know, and I approve. If it were actually possible to harm you currently, I am unsure if I could hold back.”
“Look, it would have taken a lot of ponies to pull of the explosion. Do you know anything about who was involved?”
>”I…”
>She stretches her neck as her eyes shut momentarily.
>However she soon goes back to sitting calmly.
>”Forgive me. I believe that instinctively I never approved of it, although I was unable to actually voice an opinion stopping it. Sister had all records destroyed as you made camp.”
>Figures.
>”But, I believe I managed to subconsciously protest the act. Although it lacks the full scope of the plot, I believe I managed to ‘misplace’ a document or two as the order to burn them went out. A search of my study might give you a starting point.”
“Thank you. For what it’s worth, I believe that at least a portion of what you’ve said is true.”
>”If you require my services…”
“I know where to find you.”
>You stop leaning of the cell.
>”And Anonymous?”

>You raise an eyebrow.
>”If I have been infected alongside my sister and Cadence, then keep a close watch on young Flurry.”
“I already have been.”
>”Good. Farewell, and best of luck.”
>You leave the room and set the guards back to patrol.
>It is possible that this is an elaborate scheme, but you doubt that Luna could have feigned the sound of struggle in her voice.
>She barely moved, but everything she said sounded like it physically pained her to get out.
>She only managed to keep some modicum of control because she knew that any action in the cell would be futile.
>Of the three princesses you have locked up, one of them has somewhat managed to hold onto their mind.
>But that would make sense.
>Celestia and Cadence both were direct leaders.
>They constantly had to deal with stress related to their positions.
>Cadence also had years of grief from losing Shining, and Celestia had a millennia of pent up stress from ruling Equestria.
>However, Luna was mostly just a figurehead.
>Her duties were lax in comparison.
>And while she has her own baggage, she had dealt with and learned from most of it.
>Based on what you’ve observed, Flurry should be alright for the time being; but you should make sure to keep her load as easy as possible.
>Until you can find a way to kill the parasites.
>If there is a way to kill them.

>…
>Inside of Luna’s study you found a handful of folders.
>Pushed off of the desk and into the waste bin next to it.
>You started to flip through them.
>What you assumed about the explosion was mostly true.
>They dug a web of tunnels spanning out from the second set of walls.
>Then they packed them full with every combustible material they could find in the city.
>It looks like the royal guards did all of the leg work digging the tunnels and planting the explosives.
>However, one of the papers mentions that a group of nobility (unnamed in the file) funded it.
>The monarchy has been in debt for years, as even the immense taxes were barely enough to cover costs, let alone room for expansion.
>A group of investors and nobles ended up forming a sort of financial clique that kept the monarchy afloat.

>They had a strange relationship with the Sisters.
>Seeing as they knew if they denied the Princesses, their assets would be seized; they mostly played the political game inside their own group.
>They would jockey for power constantly.
>Whomever was currently on top would have the benefit of paying for the more ‘financially stable’ investments, where they were likely to get repaid or gain royal favors.
>It was those ‘favors’ that ended up putting you out of the monarch’s graces and made them paranoid of a military coup.
>Those that fell out of favor with the current de facto leaders would front the money that was unlikely to ever be repaid.
>The clique still has their assets in Canterlot.
>But, seeing as it’s been cut off from the rest of Equestria for months, the ponies across the nation ended up redistributing the capital and means of production outside of the Capitol.
>That will have shattered their long term influence, but they still control their various fortunes.
>In the short term, that means that they still are the richest ponies in the nation.
>And that an unidentified number of them paid for the massacre.
>And they’ll do whatever it takes to cover their tracks.
>And how many are currently plotting against the new government?

>But this gives you quite the… opportunity.
>The public openly wants the heads of who burnt a third of their city down.
>And you can remove the influential ponies that will no doubt be a thorn in your side.
>You took the files with you, and put them in a secure location in your personal quarters.
>Then you went to find Flurry.
>Given that you could periodically hear applause, you assume she’s giving her speech.
>As you move through the halls, you start nearing the main balcony overlooking the city.
>On your approach, you hear immense cheering from outside.
>You pause at the door to listen.
>”So, at the last I say this: A great tragedy has struck no only this city, but all of Equestria. However, we will face these days together, and without fear!”
>You wait for the applause to die down before heading onto the balcony.
>When you open the doors and step out, the crowd cheers at your sight.
>You wave to the ponies below and go to whisper in Flurry’s ear.
“Have them come out at sundown; I’ll be speaking to them then.”
>You move your hands to hush the crowd.
>”Ponies of Canterlot, Field Marshal Anonymous, your new Chancellor, will be giving his own speech tonight at sundown.”
>She turns her head from the microphone as the ponies below continue their applauding.
>”What’s happening?”
>You beckon her back inside of the palace.
>As the door to the balcony closes behind you, the cheering is somewhat muffled.
>You start walking through the hallways as you talk to the Princess.

“We’ve taken the city, but the popular fervor won’t last forever.”
>”What are you getting at?”
“We can’t count on all of our enemies accepting the change in management. The Princesses themselves are in captivity, alongside the royal guard and the loyalist soldiers. But that still leaves the nobility as well as the remaining Interior Defense personnel unaccounted for.”
>”Is this related to the bombing?”
“Somewhat. The royal guard were the ones to do the physical labor, but they were funded by a group of aristocrats. I believe we can take advantage of the situation.”
>”How so?”
“In the interest of keeping your… mental state consistent, I’d rather not say.”
>”That’s why I wanted you in charge.”
“Hmm?”
>”Well in addition to not wanting the throne in general.”
>She stops, and you turn to face her.
>”I’m afraid Uncle… I’m afraid that any day I could wake up and not be in control of myself.”
“Flurry-“
>”No, just. Please Uncle, let me just be a figure head, I’ll deal with the sun and moon, and meet with the people, but I need to deal with what’s going on in my head. I’m not ordering you and I’m not going to threaten to quit, I’m asking you as a mare to her uncle: please watch over Equestria for me.”
“Flurry. Look, I know that I can’t even come close to comprehending what you’re going through. If that’s what you want, then I’ll do it.”
>”It- It is. Thank you.”
>She pushes her head into your chest as she starts hugging you.
>You pat the back of her head.
“As far as I’m concerned, your wellbeing comes first. We’ll get through this, I promise.”

>…
>After parting ways with Flurry, you had a group of men deliver a message to the Canterlot nobility.
>They are all ordered to be present in the throne room this afternoon before sunset.
>Attendance is mandatory.
>Until then you went over reports in your quarters.
>The Saddle Arabians should be pushed off of Equestrian soil within the week.
>The minotaurs and Griffons have made good on their agreements.
>The dogs are still insignificant.
>And the yaks show no signs of mobilization.
>In fact one report says that their shamans are convening for a theological council.
>They seem to want to add a new deity to their pantheon.
>A-non Ymos: the yeti demon of death, ice, and fire.
>Huh.
>Anyway, with the fighting soon to be completely over, reconstruction can begin in earnest.
>Because most of the industry was nationalized, you should be able keep things more or less stable as it shifts back towards a peace-time economy.
>You’re more worried about the Ministry of Interior Defense, or at least what’s left of it.
>Most of their agents have gone underground, and you were never privy to the location of their headquarters.
>Simply put, you have a secret police that is in hiding and most likely still loyal to Celestia.
>For all intents and purposes, they’re currently the largest threat to national security.
>You were never sure of how many ponies they had in their ranks, but it was easily in the hundreds, possibly the thousands.
>An influential group of trained ponies all working towards a common goal will be an issue.
>The odds of them simply disbanding are rather low.
>Best case is they become a mafia style criminal organization.
>Worst case they become active terrorists seeking the ‘restoration’ of the old system.
>Either way, you’ll have to bring them down.
>As hours passed, your focus was drawn away from your contemplations as a soldier informed you that the nobles had all gathered.

>…
>You stepped out onto the raised area near the throne.
>In the hall below a few dozen ponies were having their own conversations.
>There were an almost equal amount of soldiers posted around the perimeter of the room.
>Of the one’s you ‘invited’ there was only a couple that you trusted to serve the nation rather than themselves.
>Based on previous encounters, about half of them will have their own interests at heart.
>You’re uncertain about the remaining ones.
>Either way, you need to strike now, before they manage to re-entrench themselves into their old positions of power.
>You give out a shrill whistle and the hall goes silent.
>”Why have you summoned us here Anonymous?”
>One of the bolder ponies asks of you.
“It is proper to refer to one’s superior by their rank. You will refer to me as Field Marshal or Chancellor.”
>”And who are you,” the proud lord said, “that I must bow so low?”
“The man who controls your fate.”
>The nobles shift uneasily and you hear a few murmurs.
“Now, the nation asks for volunteers. In order to pay debts, any individual that would like to offer the use of the majority of their estate to aid in reconstruction may now step forward.”
>Half a dozen ponies cautiously approach the throne.
>Most of them were the ones you assumed would fall in line.
>When they get a good distance from the others you speak again.
“Forgive me, did I say volunteers? I meant that it was mandatory.”
>The noble from earlier speaks out.
>”What gives you the right to make such demands!”
“There is an old saying among my people: vae victis. It means ‘woe to the vanquished.’”
>A look of fear forms on his face.
>When more of the group starts filtering forwards you stop them.
“Hold there. I never had to say it, but you knew that the purpose of this gathering was to decide who would fall in line… You all were given your chance. Money and supposed ‘influence’ can’t save you here.”

>You whistle and the soldiers around the room start to encircle the main group of the nobility.
“Yes now the rains weep o’er his hall, with not a soul to hear.”
>The ponies have started to panic as they face their imminent doom.
>Your men push back anyone that tries to flee from the group.
>And you let them writhe for a bit
“Silence!”
>They comply immediately.
“I won’t have you killed; think of that as a gift. But the entirety of your assets will be seized, and you will rot with the other loyalists that stood with the sisters.”
>The soldiers start to apprehend them, and more men start to enter the hall to assist.
“You supported the sisters as they continued to descend into despotism. You profited and schemed as the people of this nation suffered. And you even funded the destruction of your own city, so that you could hold on to whatever modicum of power you saw. You are all traitors to Equestria, and you will be treated as such.”
>They’re also no use to you dead.
>And you have a plan for them.
>As they start to be taken away, you turn to those that agreed to bend the knee.
“Each of you will donate half of your worth to the government. You can choose the way in which you make said payment. Once it’s done, you will still be the richest individuals in the nation and you will be free to use your fortunes as you see fit. But believe me when I say that corruption and treason will not be tolerated. I’m offering to be your friend; you know what happens to my enemies.”
>With the remaining nobles weighing fear with gratitude, you made your way for the balcony to address the people.

>Right as the moon peaked over into the sky, you stepped onto the balcony.
>Much of the city had gathered below.
>You approached the microphone and tapped it to make sure it was working.
“Ponies of Canterlot, I am here to deliver news of justice.”
>You cleared your throat before continuing.
“We have been tirelessly looking into the bombing that devastated your home, and the culprits are in custody.”
>The ponies below cheer at the news.
“The old royal guard worked to dig the tunnels and pack them with explosives. However documents show that the entire effort was overseen and funded by many of the old nobles and aristocrats. Those guilty of aiding the massacre are now imprisoned, and their fortunes have been seized. We will use their vast riches to rebuild our nation, and while no money can heal the wounds inflicted upon us- we should take some solace in knowing that those that brought this destruction upon us will face the consequences of their actions.”
>The actual evidence never named which individuals actually funded it.
>But the people want justice, and the nobles would have caused more trouble eventually.
“The road ahead will not be an easy one to travel, but this nation will be returned to how it once was. The wars and tyranny of the past years will remain in the past. Together we will rebuild Equestria, and peace will reign in our time. This I swear to you.”
>With that you waved to the crowd, and stood on the balcony for the applause.
>As it died down, you went back into the palace.
>You still have much to plan for.
>But, you think you know what your next course of action will be.

>Time started to bleed together.
>For the most part you dealt with the vast majority of matters of state.
>Meetings.
>Signatures.
>Logistics.
>More signatures.
>Reviewing the documents made to nullify the old war edicts.
>The rest of your time was spent overseeing Canterlot’s reconstruction.
>After a week or so had passed, you received news that the last Saddle Arabian army was driven from the nation.
>Almost two hundred thousand of their men had been captured.
>And four times that were killed.
>Saddle Arabia has descended into anarchy.
>Riots killed their leader and most of the government officials in the capitol.
>Most of their cities are trying to exert influence over the country.
>Their army is virtually nonexistent.
>But the navy has mostly remained intact under their Murshir (the title of their highest admiral).
>Mushir Khidr is a thirty-something Saddle Arabian that reminds you of Barbarossa a bit.
>Dutiful, but now without a superior to follow.
>That being said, you’ve offered an olive branch to him.
>You sent a letter offering the return of the captured men, as well as a reasonable amount of their artillery.
>In return, you demanded peace between your two nations for the foreseeable future.
>You can only hope that he has grown tired of the fighting as well.
>Now you can only wait for a response.
>Life continued, and you planned a triumph for General Lancer.
>He should be arriving in the capitol in a few more days.
>Meanwhile, Brigadier Offense is overseeing the reconstruction of the southeast.
>…

>Four days later you sat in your room reading a newspaper.
>The press has been enjoying their freedom.
>There was quite a long piece that analyzed the destruction caused by the war.
>However, the tone was quite hopeful.
>The ponies of the nation seem to be banding together to build a better future.
>Another article talked about the Canterlot bombing.
>Celestia and Luna weren’t even mentioned; instead it focused on the nobles that funded the entire thing.
>That being said, the papers over the past few days haven’t mentioned the change in leadership.
>Because in practice the people approve, but in theory the idea is terrifying.
>However most of the small folk just seem to not care one way or the other.
>As long as the sun and moon keep a schedule and the state keeps a just order, they aren’t particularly critical on who does it.
>People seem to accept that the Sisters weren’t in their right mind (either through logic or denial), and just want whatever issue that’s happening with the Princesses to be resolved on its own.
>Wanting to distance yourself from those issues, you flipped a few pages in the paper.
>Huh, news from Appleoosa.
>Apparently a group of prospectors had gone missing.
>They set out to look for any notable deposits that would justify setting up in the region again.
>After a few days one survivor stumbled back into the city covered in lacerations and bruises.
>He ranted on and on about a stench of death and that how the others were lucky because they didn’t survive ‘it.’
>Evidence points to a landslide that wiped out the team, and the survivor was sent into the Equestrian heartlands to receive proper medical and psychological treatment.
>More death everywhere you turn.
>A hoof beats on your door.
>”Sir, the General's procession is on the horizon.”
>…

>After the triumph through the city and a formal celebration to mark the end of the war, you and General Lancer were in the council chambers.
>”You do know that fanfare makes me uneasy, right?”
>He normally isn’t one for large scale celebrations.
“Why do you think I had you in front of the audience for so long?”
>”Very funny…”
“Besides, I’ve got make sure you’re ready for anything.”
>”I don’t think that making me give half a dozen speeches I was unable to prepare for is ‘being ready for anything.’”
>The general is not that… proficient at giving improvisational speeches to civilians.
>And you made him stop to give one every few blocks.
“I only get a situation that’ll make you squirm every few years or so, what made you think I’d let it pass?”
>”Mercy.”
>You chuckle at the jab.
“Now that that’s out of the way, how’d the campaign fare?”
>He removes that last pieces of confetti from his mane.
>”You’ve read the reports: minimal resistance with no real battles.”
“So what’s next for you?”
>”Retirement. It’s about time I got back to my family.”
“I don’t suppose you could delay that for a couple weeks?”
>”What for?”
“I’ve got some business to see to outside of Canterlot, and could use someone I trust holding down the fort.”

>He sighs.
>”Is this an order?”
“Just a request from an old friend.”
>”And what’s so important that you need to see to it personally?”
“I’d rather not say.”
>”Personal?”
>You pause.
“Partially. Look, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important. I just need you to watch the city and Flurry while I’m gone.”
>”What’s wrong with the Princess?”
>Only you and Furry know about the parasites.
“Firstly, the stress. I’ve been doing most of the work so that she can assume her responsibilities at her own pace; it’s a big load and she’s still young so I’d rather not rush her. Also old MID agents might be plotting an assassination attempt right now. If there is an attempt on her life, I’d prefer if someone I trust was ready to take charge of the situation.”
>He sighs.
>”Not a day more than two weeks. Once the fifteenth comes I’m going home.”
“And on the sixteenth you’d come crawling back from the guilt and boredom.”
>”Just do me a favor and don’t keep me too long.”
“No promises.”
>The two of you laugh at the back and forth.
>To the outsider it wouldn’t be that noteworthy; but after years of serving together, the conversation’s tone is something of an inside joke.
>Really, he would wait for as long as you asked it of him.
>You spend a bit of time briefing him on what he’ll need to do while you’re away, and then head off to pack what you’ll need.
>But as you left the council chamber and closed the door on your way out, you heard Flurry’s voice.
>”Going somewhere?”

“How long were you listening in for?”
>”Most of it.”
>At least she’s honest.
>”When were you going to tell me that you’d be leaving?”
“Tomorrow before I set out.”
>”Uh huh. So where are you headed?”
“Can’t say.”
>”Why not?”
“Because you never know who’ll end up hearing it.”
>”Huh?”
“Ministry of Interior Defense: they’re currently rogue, and I intend to bring an end to them.”
>”Do you really have to see to it personally?”
“You wanted me to lead, so I will. But we both know that I lead from the front.”
>”But with you out of the city…”
“I’ll only be gone for a while, and besides- Lancer will be here to fill in for me. He’s one of an incredibly small handful of ponies that I would trust with the job.”
>”Just come back soon, okay?”
“Sure thing kiddo.”
>You start heading towards your quarters.
>”Hey Uncle?”
>You stop and turn back.
>”What’d you mean when you said it was partially personal?”
“Mostly it was just to guilt the General a bit more. But I do plan on taking Frederick’s ashes back to the Everfree.”
>And something else that you’d rather not say to her.
>”Okay, but- just be back soon.”
“It’ll be fine.”
>You smiled at Flurry before heading to your quarters.

>There wasn’t much that you had to pack, and you finished quite quickly.
>Afterwards you sent word to Captain Thunder that he’d be accompanying you.
>You then sat in contemplation.
>Everything from the recent days have blurred together so much.
>And the monotony…
>Perhaps that’s the enigma of living a life the way you have.
>When you finally reach a state of consistent and steady work, you ache to get back into the actual action.
>And once you’re in the action, you only want it to end so that some normalcy can return.
>What’s even the point?
>You’re in a constant state of indecision regarding your role in life.
>On one hand, you’re a pivotal figure that does what no other could.
>On the other, anything you do could have been done by another- the details would be different but the story the same.
>Is history shaped by great figures, or are those individuals merely those who were dragged along with the events around them?
>Does any individual really have a lasting effect, or would the overall narrative remain similar had they not existed?
>At the end of the day, you’re just an aging man in a foreign land that’s going through an existential crisis.
>By the time you’re drawn from your thoughts, it was late at night.
>So you decided to turn in.

>You stood in a grassy field, in any direction you could see sparse tree line.
>Neither the sun nor moon was in the sky, but the area was dimly illuminated by the stars.
>Stood silently, you take in the cool night’s air.
>You felt the weight of your blade attached to your belt.
>Raising your right hand and scratched at your bare chest.
>You hadn’t moved and there was no sweat, but you could feel the quick pace of your beating heart.
>As you look downward you find that your boots and pants are perfectly clean, showing no signs of wear.
>But there is something off.
>Listening into the wilderness it becomes apparent.
>Aside from the sound of your own heart thumping, there were no sounds at all.
>No birds, insects, or other wildlife.
>And no sounds of wind blowing through blades of grass and leaves in the distance.
>On that note, you didn’t feel any wind either.
>Scanning around your position, you see that the tree line in the distance is forming what looks like a perfect circle.
>With you at the center.
>And the filed leading up to it is almost perfectly flat.
>You begin walking towards the tree line.
>The sound of your footsteps joins your heart.
>Aside from that nothing changes.
>After maybe fifty paces, you reach the foliage.
>Past a few initial trees is a thick layer of brush.
>Branches scrape against your unprotected chest as you work your way through them.
>Reaching the end, you find yourself in an open field.
>You then turn around.
>And you’re in the center of an eerily flat field with tree line forming a near perfect circle around you.
>The grass around you is completely undisturbed.
>Looking down you find that your boots have a thin coating of dirt, and your pants have one or two tears.
>There is a thin scratch on your right shoulder that a bead of blood drips from.
>And your heart has kept its quick pace, never speeding or slowing.

>You begin walking towards the tree line, and after fifty or so paces, you find a thick layer of brush that you start to go through.
>…
>It’s been quite some time, but the night has remained constant.
>Aside from what you caused, there is still no sound at all.
>Your boots are well worn, and your pants battered.
>Dozens of scratches adorn your body; some of them have started to scab over.
>And you’re back at the center of a circular field.
>You take a step forward but stop yourself.
>No.
>This is the definition of insanity.
>You sit down in the field and wait.
>It feels like hours have passed, but you can’t shake the belief that mere moments have.
>Then it dawns own you.
>This is a dream.
>You give a sharp inhale.
>…
>You give a sharp inhale.
>And spring from laying down into a sitting position.
>Your heart is beating rather quickly.
>As you check your chest, you find only old scars.
>Soon the beating slows to a normal pace.
>And you get out of bed to put a shirt on.

>After the morning routine, you had some of the men accompanying you to get your things.
>Captain Thunder, as well as a dozen crystal ponies would be joining you.
>You had the men take the container for your armor, and the suitcase with your other items.
>But you carried the Frederick’s urn personally.
>You were ready to depart by sunrise, and after you saw the sun take its position in the sky, you went to say farewell to Flurry.
>Approaching her room, the poste guards stood at attention and saluted.
>You gave a couple of light taps on the door.
>No reply.
>You opened the door quietly and peeked inside.
>Just as you thought.
>Flurry was on her bed sleeping.
>She was curled up, resting her head on an alarm clock that rings when she need to raise or lower the sun or moon.
>Presumably she hasn’t been getting much sleep recently.
>It’s probably best to let her rest while she can.
“See you soon kiddo.”
>After whispering you closed the door, careful not to make any excess noise.
>With that you made your way for the train station.
>There wasn’t much to say for what came immediately afterwards.
>Either because there legitimately wasn’t, or you just didn’t care.
>Your departure from the capitol, although temporary, is something you desperately needed at this point.
>It’s going to be a nice break from constantly having to hold the hands of clueless bureaucrats.
>Soon you made your way through the city and arrived at the northbound train.
>Once more into the breach.
>…

>After six or so hours on the train, you reached your stop.
>There wasn’t a station, but it was the closest place on the track that would get you to the Everfree forest.
>Your group then spent the next few hours hiking towards the forest.
>By ground you should reach your safe house tomorrow night.
>But as the sun was setting you made camp just on the outskirts of the forest.
>There shouldn’t be any trouble getting to your destination.
>After being ordered on more than a few trips to thin the creatures that populate the Everfree, the wildlife instinctively knows to flee at your sight and sent.
>For now you worked with your men to set up the tents, and a couple of the crystal ponies were sent off to get firewood.
>Right before last light, your group of fourteen sat around the fire.
>You spoke up to address the twelve crystal ponies.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you were chosen to accompany me. Well listen up.”
>All eyes are on you.
“I spent some time going through battle records, and in the past months you have all served with great dignity. To that end, you’ll be reassigned to the garrison back in the Crystal Empire. The war’s over and you’ll be going home.”
>You wait as they exchange banter and gratitude at the statement.
“But for the time being, you’ll still be on active duty. I know that the army is entirely volunteers at this point, and with the war over you’ll be itching to return to your old lives. In the coming months we’ll be working on getting everyone who wants to retire back home. Of course, any of you are welcome to stay on should you want to.”
>With that stated you let the men have their own conversations as you turned to your thoughts.
>Logistics wise you want the military to have between two hundred fifty thousand and four hundred thousand during peace time.
>To that end, if not enough decide to stay active duty of their own choice, you’ll need to find an alternative.

>You haven’t decided what exactly to implement.
>A draft or service by requirement wouldn’t go over that well.
>Hopefully it won’t come down to anything like that.
>After all, the army only got so small because of a forced demilitarization.
>Around eighty percent of the active troops have served in wars before the most recent one.
>Maybe you’re just worrying too much.
>Captain Thunder nudges you, bringing you out of your thoughts.
>You glance over and he’s barely holding in laughter, nodding towards a pony on the other side of the fire.
>If you recall correctly, that’s Sergeant Vigilance.
>”…But the cake was already eaten!”
>The others begin openly laughing at him.
>”What’s so funny, that one used to spook the jitters right out of me an’ then some.”
>Another pony, Lieutenant Blues, speaks up.
>”That wouldn’t scare my two year old foal.”
>”Well if you’re such a great story teller then feel free to speak up.” Vigilance shoots back.
>At this point Thunder’s laughter has started to die down, and he wipes a tear from his eye.
>Thunder then asks of the group:
>”Ghost stories, really?”
>Corporal Canon replies while pointing into the forest.
>”Well given our location it seems appropriate.”
>”Quit tempting fate, man!” Corporal Cannon (Not to be confused with Corporal Canon) interjects.
“Enough!
>You lean forwards while the entire camp goes silent.
>In your experience, Equestrian horror stories are tame by a fifth grade human’s standards.
“What say we listen to a real horror story?”
>There is a sigh of relief as the ponies realize they aren’t getting chewed out.
“I’m going to preface this. There’s a reason I don’t talk very much about my life before coming to Equestria, and this is that reason.”
>You’re literally just improvising at this point.

>…
“But we never found my friend or his cousin. Then, around three months later we heard about a hiker in the area that had gone missing. I was prepping to head back north, but I was dragged here before I could finish the hunt for good.”
>The fire has died down greatly at this point, and the faces around it are barely illuminated.
“As far as I know, at least one is still stalking those woods to this day.”
>Thus bringing generic Wendigo story to a close.
>You really got into the story telling part though, this is the first time you’ve really been able to inspect the men.
>Vigilance has his hooves over his ears.
>Blues is visibly trembling.
>Canon and Cannon are hugging each other (they split as soon as they notice you watching).
>And the others are nervously eyeing the Everfree.
>”So uhh- sir?”  Lieutenant Blues asks. “These Wendingo things don’t exist in Equestria, right?”
“Wendigo.” You correct the pronunciation. “And as far as I know, they don’t… Just don’t take a bite out of Vigilance to test it though.”
>He blinks while staring at you with a look of disgust.
“It’s a joke.”

>At least three of the ponies had to throw up while you described the creatures, how they’re made, and how they look.
>Five of them threw up and one of them passed out while you describe how you ‘watched’ one eat somebody.
>Overall, you consider this a victory.
“Now get some sleep, we leave bright and early tomorrow.”
>They stay sitting near the fire.
“Hey people, that’s an ORDER!”
>Your final word echoes three or four times as your men filter off to their own tents, leaving Captain Thunder behind.
>”All made up?” He whispers.
“Absolutely. Well, they do exist in certain Mythologies, but that’s all they are- stories.”
>”Weird how the name is so similar to the Windigo spirits.”
“You’d be amazed with how many names are similar between our worlds. Anyway, I’ll be turning in.”
>You then went to your own tents.
>Quietly, you chuckle to yourself.
>They won’t be getting much rest.
>Poor fools.
>You lie down and close your eyes.
>The sleeping bag you’ve got is a welcome change to the overly comfortable beds you’ve been sleeping in recently.
>Should be falling asleep quickly tonight.
>But you hear an ear-piercing scream/wail that seems to come from every direction.
>And your eyes shoot open.

>A moment later you storm out of your tent.
>Might as well get some enjoyment out of it.
“Alright, who’s the wise guy? Front and center people!”
>Upon hearing your voice, the men start to slowly come out of their tents.
“Get the lead out!”
>They quickly form a line and stand at attention.
>You begin pacing back and forth in front of them.
“Now, I’ll admit, the scream had me going for the slightest moment. If whoever did it steps forward now, punishment will be merciful.”
>They stand silently.
“I do not mind a prank; but when I give an order to get rest, you get rest. AM I UNDERSTOOD?”
>”Yes Sir!”
“Really, sounds like your Drill Sergeants must have skipped the day they deal with insubordination. I gave an order to sleep, and one of you illegitimate donkey-descended  numpty brains decided to play the wise guy.”
>You clear your throat and prepare for another round of insults.
>But are unable to keep a straight face, and you start laughing.
“Haha, looks like my Drill Marshal spooked you more than the story or scream. Really though, good effort on your part. Very convincing. But, I’ll just get it out with to spare you guys the nightmares: Wendigos aren’t real. It was all just a story.”
>The men start looking between themselves.
>They seem convinced that none of them did it.
>You do a head count.
>Twelve, and you make thirteen.
“Where’s Private Red Shirt?”
>You turn to his tent; the main flap is still down.
“Congratulations Private, you won my admiration, now come out and apologize to your poor comrades.”
>No reply.

“Private! Front and center!”
>You approach his tent and flip open the flap.
>Your man is nowhere to be seen.
>But there is a considerable amount of blood.
>The far side of the tent has a gaping hole ripped into it.
>And you can see another tear.
>Five cuts spaced a bit larger than your own hand could make.
“Very funny, and pretty convincing.”
>You leave the tent behind and yell out.
“Alright soldier, you’ve had your fun. But that tent’s coming out of your paycheck. Get back here now, Wendigo’s might not be real, but there are plenty of other monsters in the Everfree.”
>Still no reply.
“No more games Private- get your flank back here ASAP!”
>”Uhh Sir?”
>Thunder speaks up and you turn to face him.
>”You were certain that those things weren’t real, right?”
“Oh don’t give me that, you were the only one that didn’t buy into it.”
>”No but…”
“But what?”
>He nods behind you twice.
>The others in the line follow suit.
“Very mature. Sure, I’ll indulge you.”
>You pivot on your heel.
>It’s dark, but the moon and stars are giving you a decent visibility.
>Throughout all of your time in Equestria, you’ve always taken their legends and myth with a grain of salt.
>At least until you’ve seen it for yourself.
>And right now you’re looking at a dark silhouette about a hundred feet away.
>Humanoid, standing on two legs, but hunched over.
>If it was standing fully upright, you’d guess it to be twelve feet high.
>It’s body and limbs are rather thin- almost malnourished looking.
>And noticeable claws.
>There is some movement in its head as a near identical wail starts to echo around you.
>And then the creature leaps off to its right, moving quick enough that you lose track of it.

>Your initial thought is that it’s a dream.
>You sharply inhale, trying to wake yourself up.
>But nothing happens.
>This is all wrong.
>Firstly it showed up right after you finished telling a story about them.
>Second- they don’t exist.
>Maybe you’d be a believer if they existed in Equestrian myths and legends, but they don’t.
>And you know these woods.
>You’ve spent many months thinning out the beasts that live in the Everfree, and not once have you ever encountered anything even remotely similar to a Wendigo.
>”Sir, what do we do?”
>Then again, there is still a lot to this world that even the ponies don’t know much about.
>”Sir!”
>You’ve been unable to locate any targets in the darkness.
>And everything is quiet.
>Too quiet.
>No sounds of wild life, only the wind and the panic of your men.
>”SIR!”
>Your men.
“Arm yourselves, and then get more wood on the fire and break out the torches. We’re being hunted.”
>With that order, you draw your sword.
>The men start to scramble around camp, desperately trying to get the fire roaring once more.
>Alright, if this really is what it looks like, then you’ll need flames to kill it.
>You’ve no flares, or flame throwers.
>Or any unicorns that can summon magical fires.
>But some of the men are lighting lanterns.
“Captain, how much oil are we carrying?”
>The pegasi flies over to you.
>”Not much.”
“Enough for a Molotov?”
>”Maybe.”
“Then get to working on that.”
>After Thunder went off, you went to grab a torch, grasping it in your free hand.
>All you could do is watch the forest for any changes.
>As your men shuffled around you, the campsite grew brighter with each passing minute.
>But the forest remained still.
>Wind passing through leaves.
>Hoof steps and weapons being drawn.
>Fires crackling.
>But no animals.

>…
>Based on the position of the moon, your group has been back to back at camp for an hour or so.
>No more sightings or attacks, but the silence has remained.
>It’s still out there.
>Your men have caught on to the lack of sound as well.
>For most of the time they’ve been silent as well, waiting for an attack.
>But you won’t be able to keep this up forever, because eventually you’ll be needing rest.
>Theoretically the creature hunts at night, but you have no idea what’s legend and what’s fact.
>All you know is that it’s almost twice your size and incredibly fast.
>And that it’s killed one of your men.
>Who was alone in his tent.
>That explains it!
>You’re being hunted.
>It’s waiting for an opportunity to strike.
>After all: it’s still thirteen against one.
>And the thirteen are tightly grouped in a defendable location.
“Captain.”
>You whisper over to Thunder, and he approaches.
“I’ve got to draw it out, be ready for my word.”
>”Sir, do you think that’s a good idea?”
“I’ve never encountered anything in this forest that I’ve been unable to kill, and tonight is no different. It wants us to wait and let us make mistakes in our exhaustion.”
>On one hand, you’re literally adhering to horror clichés.
>You’re the jock who thinks he can deal with the killer.
>But on the other hand, you’re yet to find a creature or individual that could best you.
>Ponies, yaks, griffons, minotaurs, packs of timber wolves, manticores, chimeras, hydras, and even dragons have fallen before you.
>You are the single most destructive organism that’s ever lived in this world.
>But…
>Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.
>Conscious of that, you hand your torch to the Captain.
>And start forward into the darkness.

>You stop at an even twenty paces.
>Slowly, your eyes start to adjust to the change in light.
>With your back to the camp, you can only make out the silhouettes of the local flora.
>Scanning to each side, you see no sign of life.
>But you know that it’s watching you.
>You can feel it.
>A pair of cold eyes sizing you up, waiting for just the right moment to strike.
>But it’s hesitating.
>It doesn’t know what to make of you.
>You sheath your blade, but keep your hand on the grip.
>And then you close your eyes.
>And listen.
>On your six, you hear no spoken word from the camp.
>Your men are waiting just as diligently.
>The crackle of the fires is far away.
>No movement or sounds from any wildlife.
>The wind blowing through an endless sea of brush.
>And a branch snapping.
>High to your three o’clock.
>In a single fluid motion you draw your sword and turn to the disturbance.
>And open your eyes.
>You see a large mass landing onto the ground maybe six feet away from you.
>Taller that you and disfigured, but distinctly human.
>A dirty white skin that bears dozens of bumps and cuts.
>You can see almost its entire skeleton pressing outwards against its skin.
>Elongated arms, with an equally stretched out hand; each finger tipped with a five inch claw.
>The feet are rough, bare, and well worn.
>Remains of some ragged clothing are left on its main body.
>And the head.
>Whatever hair it had has long since fallen out, but you can see the slightest fuzz growing on its head and upper chest.
>The eyes are wide open, and it looks like its irises have glazed over in an incredibly pale blue hue.
>Skin on its nose is starting to fall off, and you can see the bone that used to be underneath it.
>The teeth have grown by maybe an inch or two; they taper off into sharp points.
>It also looks like it has eaten its upper and lower lips, as well as some of the cheeks.
>And it’s just standing there.
>Hunched, but standing.
>Watching you.

>That makes sense.
“Ha!”
>It’s head cocks to the left, and it inhales through what’s left of its nose.
“Really Discord, you didn’t have anything better to do?”
>It takes a step towards you.
“You had your fun, but it’s over. Where’s my man?”
>As it exhales, the odor of rotting flesh overtakes you.
>This isn’t right.
>You catch a glimpse of some red fur sticking between some of its teeth.
>And what looks to be fresher blood on its claws.
>Killing isn’t Discord’s style.
>And the way it’s studying you.
>Like it recognizes a similar body shape.
>Or it’s ideal food.
“Oh.”
>You lunge backwards as the beast screeches and swings at you with its claw.
>You almost out of its range, but you feel four distinct claws tear into the black t-shirt you were wearing.
>They were almost perfectly sharp, perfect for skinning.
>You swing your sword to hack at the creature’s side.
>And all of your momentum is halted as the blade impacts its skin, not even leaving a scratch.

>”SIR!”
>Hearing Captain Thunder yell out, you take action.
>You roll backwards, just below another swing from the creature.
>Just as you regain your footing, you see a bright object impact the figure.
>Glass breaks and oil coats the Wendigo’s right side, leaving it to let out another shriek.
>But with this one, you can hear the pain and fear in its tone.
>Now’s your window.
>Closing the short distance between you and your target, you place grasp your sword’s grip woth both hands.
>Charging over the scattered flames that have blossomed on the ground, you duck under a flailing arm.
>And bring the full force of your blade down into the creature’s burning neck.
>You then get out of the burning mess, patting some flames off of your shoulder.
>As you turn, you see that the head is now resting a few feet from its slumped over body.
>The area was a slight clearing, so there shouldn’t be a brush fire.
>With that you turn and start heading back to camp.
>Your men have already started cheering.
“Nice throw Captain.”
>”You know, this isn’t exactly what I was envisioning when I signed on.”
“It neve-“
>A familiar ear piercing shriek echoes on the wind, cutting you off.
>But this one is different, almost vengeful.
>Before it can finish, a second scream joins it.
>And a third distinct wail is added in.
>All before a much deeper bellow dwarfs the previous noises.

>…
“Hold!”
>The men tracking behind you stop, waiting intently on your words as you study the surroundings.
>You’ve arrived at a river after hours of pursuit.
>The birds are chirping in the morning light.
“We’ve got wildlife. Take stock and rest up, you’ve got two hours before we’re setting out.”
>You do a quick head count.
>Captain Thunder, Lieutenant Blues, Sargent Vigilance, Corporal Canon, and Corporal Cannon.
>The others are presumed KIA.
>You remove your backpack from your shoulders.
>After you set it on the river bank, you rip off what’s left of your tattered shirt.
>Good thing you didn’t change out of your boots, because you’ve been running almost since you killed the first Wendigo.
>There were three others like it, and larger one.
>The alpha, bull, prime, or whatever it’s called was easily around fifteen feet high.
>And that’s not counting the antlers.
>It’s head looked like a bloody deer’s skull, and a fur had grown over the top half of its torso.
>Anyway, after you killed the first one the rest of the pack set on the camp.
>You all only had a couple moments to grab gear.
>Then came the hours of retreating.
>Your other men were picked off one by one.
>Some tripped, some were separated from the group, some were ambushed, but at the end of the night you’ve lost the majority of the soldier you entered these woods with.
>But they’ve faced losses too.
>As you were retreating, you managed to beat one to death with a torch.
>It was the smallest of the group- only a foot or two taller than yourself, but you still got one.
>Unfortunately, the others learned from that.
>They know that you’re the strongest of their pray.
>You think that’s why they didn’t make any more direct attempts against you.
>They’re saving you for last.
>But the beasts only let you flee deeper into the Everfree forest.
>You have a general idea of your location, but for the most part you’re lost.

>Wilderness can change a lot in a couple of years.
>But you do know one thing:
>You won’t be able to get out of the Everfree before nightfall, and they’ll be back.
>Six against three.
>You look towards your men.
>Thunder is currently working to get a fire going.
>Blues is just standing where he stopped, giving a thousand-yard stare into the distance.
>Vigilance is scanning the forest, unready to leave his guard down.
>Cannon is sitting on an old log, raving about the situation as Canon tries to calm him down.
>”I mean this is it! What are we supposed to do?”
>”Come on buddy, we’ve been through worse.”
>”No we haven’t!”
>”Well after today we’ll be able to say that.”
>You place your fingers in your mouth and let out a shrill whistle.
“Alright, listen up!”
>Cannon goes quiet, and Blues is snapped back to reality.
>The others turn their heads as well.
“I know we’ve just been through a lot, but we’re not out of it yet. This isn’t what any of you signed on for, but it’s what we’ve been thrust into. Now, I’ve got a safe house in the area, and based on our rough location, we should be able to reach it before night fall. But if any of us are going to survive this, I need each and every one of you working to the best of your abilities.”
>You pause for a moment.
“I know you’re afraid, but I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you alive. We’ve got two of them already, all we need to do is get to the safe house and get properly armed. Now rest up, you’ve got two hours.”

>With that, you went to check what was still in your pack.
>No spare clothes, they were in your suit case.
>A waterproof case of matches.
>Set of stainless steel pots for cooking and boiling water.
>A canteen, still full.
>A flask of high proof vodka.
>Some rope.
>A few rolls of gauze.
>One run-of-the-mill hatchet.
>A full tang bowie knife with a ten inch blade.
>If that isn’t enough length, then you have a twenty inch blade on your machete.
>Should none of those suit your needs then, you’ve got kukri and its fifteen inches of hacking power.
>You start untangling the various sheathes and harnesses for your gear.
>As the bag is emptied, you’ve noticed something.
>Frederick’s urn was left at camp.
>You whisper under your breath:
“I’ll come back for you buddy.”
>”You say something sir?”
>Thunder asks, looking up from a pile of wood and kindling.
“Nothing. Here, catch.”
>You toss the match case over to him.
>”Thanks, left mine at camp.”
>But you’ve already gone back to equipping yourself.
 >Thanks to the Wendigos and the forest’s brush, you’ll be going shirtless until further notice.
>At least it’s summer.
>You’ve got the bowie knife strapped over your pants on your right thigh.
>Your sword is still on your left hip, and you strapped the hatchet’s sheathe to your right.
>A pair of harnesses are over your upper torso now:
>Under your left arm is the kukri, and the machete rests on the right side of your back.
>You’ve put your flask in your left pocket.
>Finally you put the canteen’s strap over your left shoulder, and let it hang on your right side.
>You gave the pots over to Captain Thunder so he can start boiling river water.
>The rope and gauze you tossed over to Vigilance, who added it to his sparse load.
>With gear sorted out, you set on the next task: food.
>But all rations that you could have eaten were left behind.
>Thankfully, there’s a fire going.
>…

>You stood on the water’s edge with a sharpened stick.
>Waiting.
>Too small.
>Too far away.
>Small.
>Perfect.
>Must be nearing to feet in length.
>That’s right.
>Just stay there.
>You strike downwards.
>And your aim was true.
>Catfish for breakfast.
>…

>Your knife was a bit cumbersome for gutting fish, but you made due.
>More than one questioning look was sent your way as you were cooking it over the fire, but you men have better things to do than be picky about their CO’s diet.
>And you have more important things to be worrying about.
>Like where your safe house actually is.
>You ran mostly westward.
>And your camp was set up so that you would be equally as far south and east from the safe house’s coordinates.
>You should be due south of it, give or take a few degrees.
>But, those few degrees could be the difference of being stuck in the middle of the Everfree or inside of an armory come nightfall.
>Your life, and those of these five survivors, depends on your ability to lead them to safety.
>But something else is bothering you.
>The Wendigos.
>The fact that an earth centric myth has been encountered in Equestria, (for the first time, right after you told their tale,) is unsettling.
>Wendigos are the product of human cannibalism, and the ones you’ve encountered all seem rather human.
>Aside from the big one, but like you told the others:
>’Some peoples said that they grow ever more bestial as they devour more flesh.’
>Anyway, their presence here could mean that there are… or rather, were more humans here.
>Or it could be that some sort of creature or pony is using a form of magic to turn into or summon fears into reality.
>The tale, although tame by your standards, absolutely terrified most of your men.
>You’re not sure if that kind of magic exists here, but a MID unicorn could have literally weaponized  your men’s fear.
>Either way, the Wendigos are tangible threats that have to be dealt with.
>And you might be the only hope for these five ponies.

>…
>At least twelve hours have passed.
>You think that you’re the last one left.
>It seems like you took the group on a path to far to the west.
>As night fell so did your numbers.
>Currently you’re sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree.
>The three beasts cornered you on the bank at the top of a waterfall.
>So you jumped.
>But not before the big one cut in to your gut.
>Not deep enough to do any serious damage, but the blood loss will slow you down.
>At least you managed to toss the gauze into one of your pockets.
>First went Vigilance, he stopped because he thought he heard something in the night.
>Then a claw dragged him into the brush.
>His pack was torn open and you took what you could.
>Reaching into your pocket you retrieve your flask.
>You started by taking a hefty gulp for yourself.
>After that you pored some of the vodka on your open wounds.
>It stung, but after decades of injuries you’ve gotten used to it.
>Second was Canon, he tripped and slipped down a steep incline as you were traversing past it.
>Third was Cannon, he went down to rescue his friend.
>By the time your group went around and down to meet up with them, there was only a clearing full of blood.
>You start unraveling the gauze and start wrapping them around your lower torso.
>They’re still a bit damp from your dive into the river, but it’ll have to do.
>You have just enough to give a decent covering around the wounds.
>Then you tie it up and lean against the tree again.
>And then stare into the dark forest.
>Fourth was Blues, as you were running he stopped dead in his tracks.
>He had a break down and kept screaming to ‘get them off.’
>When you turned back at him, they swooped in and dragged him away.
>After that you were sure that you were getting close.
>Fifth was Thunder, he flew up and over the tree line to scout ahead.
>There was heavy movement in the canopy above your head and you didn’t see anything, but he never came back.
>And then there was one.

>You entered this forest with thirteen men.
>You promised all of them that they would be going home.
>You said that they’d be seeing their families soon.
>Now they’re gone, each and every one of them.
>You said that you’d protect them.
>You told them they’d be safe.
>You vowed to get them to safety.
>Now they’re gone, each and every one of them.
>Now you’re sitting in the dirt holding a wound.
>Just waiting for death to take you.
>You never expected it would be like this.
>The vision you’ve always had was that death would come to you and you’d face it on your feet.
>Not on the ground and struggling to stay conscious from exhaustion and blood loss.
>And you always thought that it would be for something.
>And that you wouldn’t die in the middle of the woods without any witnesses.
>This is just pitiful.
>You reach down and grab the flask, taking another swig before closing it and putting it back into your pocket.
>It’s a shame about Thunder.
>He was a good man.
>But his wife will have it worse; someday some ponies will knock on her door.
>They’ll say how he’s missing in action and they’ll still be looking for him.
>That she shouldn’t lose hope.
>But she’ll know the truth.
>Her husband will be gone and she’ll never have the closure she deserves.
>All of the men’s families will go on like that.
>Wives, parents, siblings, children, and all of their other loved ones will never know what happened.

>And what will they say about you?
>You can imagine the speculation now.
>Are you dead, or just in hiding?
>Maybe they’ll think you’ve gone back to your own world.
>But here you are.
>Not with a bang, but a whimper.
>An old man that’s too tired to continue.
>What about Flurry?
>She’s a strong girl, and you’ve raised her well.
>You know that she’ll be able to rise to the occasion.
>She will grow to be the Princess she needs to be.
>But, losing you at a time like this might push her over the edge.
>You fish the flask back out of your pocket.
>What’s even the point?
>You keep fighting because at any given time you’re too valuable to die.
>But no matter what you do there’s always another issue to pop up after the task at hand’s been solved.
>You put the mouth of the flask to your lips and down the remainder of it.
>A shame you spilled so much onto your wound.
>You keep telling yourself that you’re too necessary to be out of the picture.
>But it’s a big world, and someone else will surely be able to keep it from being destroyed.
>And anyways, you’re tired.
>What’s taking them so long?
>You’re here; alone and ready.
>Ready for your peace.
>You close your eyes and wait for the inevitable.
>But slowly drift off to sleep, no longer able to keep yourself conscious.

>You awake gasping for breath as you sit upright and place your hand on your chest.
>”Mmm, what’s wrong?”
>Your wife sits up next to you and places her hand around your shoulder.
>”Bad dream?”
“Yeah.”
>She starts lightly scratching your back as you look around the room.
>Light is shining in through your blinds, and your clock reads 5:59.
>You reach over and the alarm rings as the time switches over to 6:00.
>The sharp beep wakes up your dog who was lying at your feet; his head springs up and he looks over with his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he pants.
“What ya lookin at Frederick?”
>He cocks his head.
>”Go get him Freddy!”
>At you wives command, the dog raises and you’re impacted with seventy pounds of Labrador Retriever.
>He knocks you back down onto your pillow as licking commences.
“Mmm. Yeah. Good dog. Now get off.”
>At your order he jumps onto the ground and starts barking.
“Don’t look at me like that, you know how to use the dog door.”
>You point off to the rest of your house.
“Out.”
>He barks lightly then scampers off to presumably relieve himself outside.

>”What’d you dream about Hon?”
>Right your dream.
>You can’t quite place your finger on it…
“I don’t know. It was dark, I was running, and there was blood; but beyond that…”
>”And I was there, and our dog was there, and there’s no place like home?”
“Actually I think you both were there. And it felt like it took a real long time... Ah well, it’s just a dream.”
>”Yeaaah… besides Anon, we’ve got quite the day ahead of us.”
“We? You get to sit and read- I’m the one driving.”
>She gets out of the covers and walks on her knees over to you.
>As she starts to straddle you, she reaches down to each of your hands and you interlock fingers.
>”I like to think of it as being the navigator.”
“Well Miss Navigator, tell me: what highway will we be spending most of the drive on?”
>She rolls her hazel eyes, and what little light there is shines off of her wavy golden hair.
>She then mutters something and adds “west” at the end of it.
“Well Amber, that’s half right at least.”
>”And I only have to be fifty percent right, because you’re my other half.”
>You give out a condescending sigh at the pun.
>Then sit upright and bring her into a deep kiss.
“God I love you.”
>”I love you too. Now come on, I’ll finish packing if you’ll cook up something.”
>…

>After cooking up a quick breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, you and Amber ate in more or less silence, rushing to get out and hit the road.
>You threw a strip of bacon to Frederick as you rinsed off the dishes.
>With everything cleaned, you then headed out to your car, a dark grey SUV.
>Amber had finished packing, and after breakfast headed straight to the car.
>She was waiting in the passenger’s side seat, and as she saw you she reached over and honked the horn.
>You let Frederick into the back before getting into the driver’s seat.
“Ready?”
>”Absolutely.”
>Backing out of your driveway, you started to drive through the smaller roads to reach the highway.
>Both you and Amber were teachers- she taught elementary and you were a professor at your town’s university.
>Summer was coming to a close, so you were making your annual pre-school year getaway.
>When your dad died last decade, you inherited ten thousand acres in the Rockies, with quite a lodge.
>So you made it a tradition to spend a few weeks there with Amber, her sister Winter and her husband A.T., and your own adoptive daughter.

>Her name was Flurry.
>The name was because when her mother went into labor, their car broke down on the way to the hospital.
>Flurry’s father had to deliver her in the middle of a snow storm in winter.
>So they named her after it.
>Anyway, her father was one of your best friends back in High School, so you were always close to the family.
>But her dad was in the army, and he ended up going MIA when she was five.
>A bit after that Flurry’s mom got put in an asylum because she wasn’t able to take the stress.
>So you started looking after Flurry with her Aunt and next-of-kin.
>Until her Aunt went on a flight that disappeared over Malaysia.
>Grandparents had recently passed, and with no family you became her legal guardian.
>She then went off to college, soon after as you were bar hopping one night you met Amber.
>That was six years ago.
>Now you and Amber are five years into your marriage, you just turned forty-four, Amber’s reaching thirty-six, Flurry is going to work on her doctorate, and in a few days your big happy family will be relaxing.
>Fishing, no light pollution, cleaner air, maybe a bit of hunting, peace and quiet, and getting away from the suburban life in general.
>Though you’re not sure why you’ve been recapping your recent life.
>But as you hit the highway, all memories of the dream were out of mind.

>Just open road, classic rock on the radio, and the endless flatlands of the Midwest.
>In your side view mirror you could see your dog sticking his head out the window.
>After about an hour, something specific comes on the radio.
>Amber picks it up immediately.
>”Is this the real life, is this just fantasy?”
>And you know what to do.
“Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.”
>…
>Around noon you needed gas.
>After pulling into the next station, Amber filled up the car while you went inside to take a leak.
>Gas station bathrooms are disgusting, but highway gas stations are a deeper layer of hell.
>As you were washing your hands in the grimy sink, you glanced up to the mirror for a second.
>And quickly double take.
>You could have sworn that your eyes were solid black for a second.
>But no, probably just the poor lighting.
>Either way you then took a more in depth look at your face.
>Perfectly normal.
>A shame your beard and hair have started to grey.
>You’ve been playing with the idea about growing out your beard more, but you’re fine with it only being about an inch.
>As you look your right eye starts to twitch, and you could swear that you heard a voice.
“Almost done.”
>You say to the door, assuming that another person wants in.
>Then you blink a couple of times until the twitch stops.
>Looks like you’re already getting tired of the road.
>But you’re getting a deeper feeling.
>Like you’re forgetting something important.
>You let out a belch.
>Anyway, time to head back to your car and let that other guy in.
>But as you opened the door, you didn’t see any other customer in the gas station.
>Huh.
>Well you’ve still got a few hundred miles to go today, and another day on the road tomorrow.

>So, you decided it was best to get a bit of rest before hitting the road again.
>After getting back in the car, you pulled it over into a parking space.
>Then leaned back your seat and closed your eyes.
“Make sure I’m up in a half hour.”
>”Sure thing hon.” Amber said as you heard her flip a page in her book.
>You would be tagging out, but she gets nervous driving high profile cars on highways.
>And seeing as her sedan doesn’t have the trunk space for all the luggage…
>Anyway, you should be getting you ten winks about now.
>…
>Oh sweet Lord.
>You’re alive!
>As you were taking in your miraculous survival, you forgot to keep moving your limbs.
>And you start sinking.
>Realizing that swimming is required to not drown, you breech the surface.
>After spitting out a mouthful of salt water, you look tak in your surroundings.
>There’s fire on the water and scattered debris from your plane crash.
>And you don’t see any other survivors.
>Just you… in the middle of the Caribbean.
>Before today you never bought any of that Bermuda Triangle mumbo jumbo, but now you count yourself as a believer.
>It’s dark, but the flames are illuminating the quickly sinking wreckage.
>And the bodies.
>Oh God.
>And a raft that must have inflated automatically.
>Thank you Jesus.
>You tread water over to the raft and climb over the side of the inflated orange rubber.
>Let’s take stock of what you have.
>The raft has a single paddle, and a flare gun with a single flare.
>You have your very wet suit, a now useless cell phone, your wallet, and keys.
>It’s okay, you just need to wait, and rescue will come soon.
>After all, it was a major airline that just went down.
>…
>As sun dawned, you saw no sign of rescue boats or helicopters.
>Only open water.
>Oaky, they just need to do math and stuff to account for your drift in the ocean.
>They’ll get here soon enough.
>…
>Later that afternoon, your spirits plummeted.
>You saw a shark fin.

>…
>It’s been two days.
>You can’t properly describe the thirst.
>And you’re hungry.
>And you keep seeing shark fins.
>You’re a businessman not a survivalist, for Christ’s sake.
>…
>The next morning, you’re certain that there is no God.
>Or at least not a merciful god.
>You can’t keep going on like this.
>When you looked down at your hands earlier, it looked like all of your veins were popping out.
>And pitch black.
>But then after a double take, everything looked normal.
>…
>It’s night.
>But you see a light in the distance.
>You shot the flare gun, but the light didn’t change course.
>Despair is a fun emotion.
>…
>It rained; maybe there is a God after all.
>The raft was filled with a nice layer of fresh water.
>To complete the meal, you ate your shoes.
>Leather is something you can go the rest of your life without eating again.
>…
>The raft is deflating.
>Only one of the sections looks to still have full integrity.
>And in the past four- or was it five?- days, you haven’t seen the slightest bit of land.
>…
>This is how you go.
>Struggling against exhaustion while hugging the last bit of the raft that’s above water.
>Your legs are in the abyss.
>You can swear that you’ve felt sharks brush pas them.
>But you’ve been awake for two (?) days, and can’t fight the sleep urge anymore.
>You can barely think straight after all.
>The name Anonymous will just be another on the list of deceased from the crash.
>So much for joining the billionaire club.
>And you were so close too.
>Still though, at this point you can only hope that you don’t feel it coming.
>And your eyes shut for the final time.
>…

>”Hon… Hon!”
>You shoot upwards and sit up straight.
“How long was I out?”
>”Half hour on the dot.”
“Really?”
>”Yeah… you okay? Another dream?”
“Yeah, with sharks… I think.”
>”So I take it we’re not going scuba diving for our anniversary next year?”
“Love you too, dear.”
>”This is just payback; you did the same to me when I broke my leg last spring.”
“You didn’t even hit anything; you just rolled your foot and broke off bone on the bottom of the leg bone… thing.”
>”I hate when my ‘leg bone thing’ is broken.”
>She…
“It’s one of those days…”
>Usually the snark to snark combat is evenly matched, but you’ve been completely off today.
>”Really though, you okay? This is the second one today.”
“Did I have a nightmare this morning?”
>”I’ll take that as a: ‘yes my dear, I’m perfectly okay; but I would like to take the time to say how much I love and appreciate you’.”
“And I’ll that as a: ‘start driving’.”
>So you start driving.

>…
>Many hours later you found yourself at a crummy chain motel.
>The room reeked of cigarettes and you’d assume at least two people have been murdered in it.
>But it has hot water and (thank God) clean sheets.
>And is pet friendly.
>After unwinding for an hour, you looked over to Frederick.
“Alright boy, go over and wait in the bathroom.”
>Ever dutiful, your Lab trots over into the other room of the cheap motel.
>As soon as you have relative privacy, Amber throws you down onto the king sized bed.
>Each of you then took your time undressing the other.
>Long story short, is that something’s wrong.
>Every test says you should be able to, but after five years of trying you weren’t able to have kids of your own.
>And you try to almost every night.
>You both really love the trying part, but neither of you are getting any younger.
>That being said, after the deed was done, you assumed position as big spoon and drifted off to sleep around your wife.
>…
“Come on you apes! You wanna live forever?”

>The sounds of bracing rigs going into position floods the compartment.
>Moments later you hear the distinctive lurch as the hanger outside was opened to vacuum.
>The ship then hums with life as you begin descent out of the larger carrier
>In your area, thirty five men are prepping for atmospheric entry.
>But in your thirty-five drops into hostile landing zones, you have not once strapped in.
>And you have not once so much as staggered.
>After all, the commanding officer of the Fallen Angels does not falter.
>You are a lieutenant in the Terran Union Marine Corps.
>Leader of the 666th Shock Platoon.
>To your superiors, you are Lieutenant Anonymous, citizen code: 36,912,821,435-T and the military code: 210,012,120-M.
>But to the average men of the military, the acting CO of your Platoon goes by the informal call sign: Lucifer.
“I have been in this platoon straight from boot, serving for twenty-five years, leading for twenty. Half of you are veterans and know this speech, but to the newcomers- that means that because we are THE vanguard for all our people’s conflicts for over one hundred years, I have outlived every member of the 666th since its formation in the First Colonial Insurrection.”
>The drop ship lurches as you hit atmosphere.
“Now you know the mission. Since our species left Earth over three hundred years ago, we thought that we were alone in the galaxy. That has changed.”
>You start to pace up and down the row of your seated men.
“One year ago, we lost contact with the colony of Hapsburg. A native fungus had infected the colonists… all thirty million of them. Last month a ship broke atmosphere and landed in the planet’s orbital station. The Fungoids overrun it.”
>The sounds of flak fire can be heard outside.

“Our techs think they have a semi shared consciousness that can assimilate the thoughts and knowledge of their hosts. Although our brothers in the navy have destroyed the infected station and started orbital bombardment, the Fungoids had already gotten infected ships onto three nearest colonies. Make no mistake; they won’t stop until all of humanity is infected… This is an extermination campaign. And because the majority of the sector’s fleet is tied up trying to quarantine infected space, glassing the planet is not currently an option. So, we’re going boots down to cut the head off the snake.”
>”Man, I signed up to fight rebels, not this sci-fi bullshi-“
“Stow it Jackson, this might be the defining fight our species has ever took part in. Remember, all of the surviving colonists are infected and hostile- they will all hold no qualms about killing or infecting you, so don’t hesitate if you see women or children. They’re all active combatants, putting them to rest is the only way to end the hell they’re going through. Now, what are the rules?”
>Your men yell out in unison:
>”Everybody fights, nobody quits!”
“And if you don’t do your job, I’ll kill you myself!”
>The drop ship shakes as you impact the ground, and the men throw off their braces.
“Parati ad omnia!”
>To which your men reply:
>”Non timebo malum!”
>A red light emanates from the ready lights, so your men put on and lock their helmets to their hardsuits.
>All ground forces are wearing top of the line armor that has a self-contained filtration system to limit infection possibilities.
>It goes over the standard issue powered exosuits, and can withstand anything but top of the line military grade small arms.
>As you lock your own helmet into place, the HUD lights up.
>Sunlight filters in as the rear hatch starts opening, and you pick up your weapon.
“For the Union!”
>As always you were the first one off the boat.

>You landed on the outskirts of Charles V’s industrial center.
>The old capitol has become a strong point for enemy activity.
>And in the center of the industrial quarter, the Fungoids have set up missile stations.
>It’s actually rather ingenious.
>They converted factories to build old bootstrap style rockets, like those that your species first broke atmosphere with.
>Then they have one of their infected fly a kamikaze mission into the orbiting fleet.
>Unlike traditional missile munitions, they fly at a low enough speed to pass through defensive shields.
>And point defense can only take out so many of them.
>Larger ships are too unwieldy to actively dodge the huge numbers of suicide attacks, so only smaller corvettes can safely get anywhere near the planet.
>By taking the main rocket site, your forces will be able to get proper orbital support.
>That involves going through one of the most populated sectors on the planet.
>But if it was easy, the Fallen Angels wouldn’t be leading the charge.
>As you exit the drop ship, your HUD flags at least a hundred enemies, about fifty feet away and behind barricades built from local scrap.
>Armed with combustion based firearms.
>You hear guns fire as lead projectiles start impacting your armor.
>Stolen colonial militia gear doesn’t stand a chance against military equipment.
>Bullets flatten against the plate or ricochet off, but no damage is registered.
>As they fire you zoom in with the HUD.

>Disgusting creatures.
>You can make out the human flesh and clothes, but about half of their bodies are covered in a black and brown rugged shell.
>Some of them have tendrils coming out of various areas of their body, anywhere from one to ten feet long.
>The only uniform feature about them is the eyes.
>The fungal shell surrounds the upper face, and forms a glossy shell over the eyes.
>They pop out slightly and glow with a dim sickly yellow aura.
>By now, your entire platoon have lined up in the street, forming a single line facing the enemy fortifications.
>The enemy stops firing as they see it has no effect.
>So you return the favor.
>You flip your IR-231c Particle Carbine to the max power setting.
>And watch as dozens of blue pulses shoot at the hostiles, blasting the hostiles and their barricades into charred remains of gore and ash.
“Alright, these were the farthest ones out, don’t get cocky- as we get to the target they might have something more than pop guns. We’re taking this block by block. Mendez, I want Fireteam Morningstar with me at the lead.  Jackson, you and Fireteam Inferno watch our six.”
>Other dropships are landing on the other streets, and you’ll be assaulting from the south and west.
>If all goes according to plan, within the hour there will be fifty thousand marines assaulting the rocket batteries.
>But when has anything ever gone according to plan?

>…
>The answer is never.
>At first, the landing troops were advancing multiple blocks in a single minute.
>But that soon changed.
>When you were at an intersection, you looked down to the platoon advancing in the adjacent street.
>The 1292nd.
>One of the Fungoids charged at the advancing troops.
>And whatever they’re made of, their tendrils can pierce your armor.
>Within the next five minutes, they shifted their tactics.
>Across the entire front if radio chatter is to be believed.
>They dropped what weapons they had, and charged.
>All of them.
>The first waves were sparse, but after they consolidated the streets were full with an endless mass of hostiles.
>Your men are good, but they can only fire and reload so quickly.
>The full retreat was ordered within the hour.
>You managed to keep the enemies on your own street at a distance, but around you the lines were collapsing.
>…
>The point of egress was on the mega highway leading out of the city.
>The dropships needed a larger area to properly land without the threat of being overrun.
>And a thirty lane highway raised a hundred feet off of the ground would provide just that.
>The platoons that were the furthest from the highway would start to peel off first, leaving those near the highway itself to hold the line while the bulk of the force got to safety.
>And the 666th was dead center.
>…

>This isn’t right.
>You haven’t seen any incoming hostiles for ten minutes.
>They were just about to reach your men.
>But then they turned tail and ran.
>This has happened across the front.
>Whatever they’re planning…
>*BZZ*
>Your radio springs to life.
>”Fleet command to the 666th, commence evac immediately”
“Copy that”
>But neither you nor your men start to move.
>Still nothing.
“Alright, fall back.”
>Your men slowly start to make their way south.
>As you walk through the empty city streets, you soon see the onramp.
>And aside from distant rocket launches, there is complete silence.
>This is very wrong.
>And the ground is shaking.
>No, not the ground.
>The highway.
“Double time it!”
>After the upwards slog onto the road, you see hundreds of energy bolts heading down it into the city.
>Into what you can only describe as a tsunami of enemies.
“GO, GO, GO!”
>You and your men start sprinting to catch up with the other retreating forces, firing backwards as you run.
>You buzz in on the radio.
“Fleet, we need every available battery to cover our retreat, or there no one’s getting off this rock!”
>Come on, reply.
>”Negative, atmospheric disturbances are messing with targeting. You’re on your own.”
>You switch the radio to your platoon’s frequency.
>Because to your front, you can see dropships landing and taking off.
“Hold this position!”
>Without questioning your platoon stops and turns towards the swarm.
>You’ve got maybe two hundred feet on them.
>But their speed is slightly slowed as they are packed so tightly that they occasionally have to climb over allies.
>But on the proverbial other hand, you’re thirty six men strong, in a single line with considerable gaps between men.
“Lay out everything you’ve got, we’re the only ones buying the evac time!”
>…

>After seeing your platoon make a stand, a couple others joined in.
>Over a hundred men shooting heavily charged energy bolts towards the oncoming storm.
>They advanced slowly, but you held.
>Until every other soldier was on a boat headed off of this god forsaken rock.
>Now only you few defenders had to get off.
>The men from other units went first.
>All you had to do was keep them at bay long enough for the last drop ship to get your boys.
>The enemies were crawling over their living and dead comrades as less and less weapon fire went down range.
>You were standing ankle deep in spent energy cartridges.
>But finally you heard engines hum in the distance.
>Since you started this stand, you’ve made your peace.
“Jackson, LMG!”
>You shift your carbine over to your left hand as he tosses a fifty pound ‘light’ machine gun to your right.
“Someone’s gotta buy you sorry fools time, get out of here!”
>You begin firing both of the guns towards the mass.
>But your men are still holding.
“THAT’S AN ORDER!”
>You boom over radio, as slowly the men start to peel off.
>And the horde is released from suppressing fire.
>You start gunning down as many of the quicker ones as you can.
>They’re quickly gaining ground, but you only needed to buy a minute’s head start.
>As they get within twenty-five feet of you, you toss aside the guns.
>You flick your left wrist, and the gauntlet folds out into a shield.
>Then you grab your knife with your right hand, pressing a button to extend the blade by three and a half feet.
>With another buttons press, the blade edge splits and hot plasma replaces it.
>Twenty feet.
>This is it.
>Fifteen feet.
>You prepare to lunge out.
>Ten Feet
>---

>…
>You awake and start swatting at your face.
“Stop it boy, no licking.”
>Your wife is woken and starts giggling.
>”Good boy Freddie.”
“You’re not a good influence on him.”
>You sit up and push your dog away.
>He lets out a quiet bark, as if he doesn’t want to wake the people in adjacent rooms.
>Clever boy.
“What is it? You need out?”
>He paws at your leg.
>Glancing over at the clock, you see that it’s almost time to get going.
“You start packing, I’ll take him out.”
>”Don’t forget to leave the keys with me.”
>As you start getting out of bed and reach for your pants, you fish out the car keys and toss them to Amber.
>And you headed out of the room to let your dog go do his business.
>…

>A half hour later, you were checking out of the hotel.
>There was a different worker on shift.
>And-
>”And how, pray tell, can I help you? Checking in or out?”
“Woah.”
>He raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry, but you look just like my dad.”
>”Don’t worry, I get that ALL the time.”
“Even sound a bit like him.”
>Similar hair, brow, eyes, cheek line, nose.
>It’s uncanny.
>He taps at his name tag.
>Weird last name: Iscord.
>First initial D.
>French maybe?
“No, I know you’re not, he died years ago. I just didn’t sleep that easily last night, and I’m still a bit tired. Anyway, here are the keys, room 114.”
>”Strange dreams?” He asks as he grabs the room keys and starts clacking on a computer that looks about two decades old.
“Yeah actually.”
>”Well you know what they say; dreams are the subconscious trying to tell you something.”
“So my subconscious thinks in clichés?”
>”And why would you say that?”
“Actually… I don’t know. I can’t remember anything about it.”
>”I’m sure it will all start coming to you. Have a good trip Anon.”
“How’d you know my name?”
>”Because I’m your guardian angel, of course!”
>You give a deadpan stare.
>”Oh you’re no fun, It says it right here on the computer: “Room 114: Two guests and a pet, paid by a credit card in the name of Anonymous”.”
“Right, sorry.”
>”Well, you’re all set. Arrivederci.”
“Thanks.”
>With that, you head out to your car.
>Strange guy.
>…

>After driving for a few hours, you noticed that your wife had dozed off.
>Time for some payback.
>You hit the touch pad on the GPS in your car.
>Music.
>Downloaded songs.
>Alphabetical.
>Straight to E
>Then you spin the volume dial so low that you’ll barely be able to hear it.
>And hit play.
>Wait for the intro.
>First few lyrics.
>And here we go.
>You spin the volume all the way up.
>[Highway to hell]
>”Gah, Jesus!”
“Hahaha.”
>She spins down the volume as soon as she can reach it.
>”That’s not funny.”
“Hey, you said you were navigator-you can’t do that while you’re sleeping.”
>”Love you too, jerk.”
“Besides, look around. Trees! We’re finally out of the Midwest.”
>”Still got a couple hundred miles.”
“Actually, about that…”
>You pull in to the rest stop you were nearing.
“Truce?”
>”I’ll consider it.”
“Thanks hon.”
>After pulling over and turning the car off, you grabbed a small pillow from the back.
>You see Frederic raise his head as you reached past him.
“Just a bit longer buddy.”
>Right.
>You turn the key so you can crack the windows.
>Then turn the battery off and set your seat back.
>Hopefully Amber will wait until the dish is cold to serve revenge.
>…

>”ANON!”
“Forty-Two!”
>People around you laugh.
>You answer as you raise your head from your desk.
>”If you’re going to nap in class, at least remember what actual class it is. As much as I value the answer to life, the universe, and everything: this is not a Math course.”
>Freshman year of college is ‘fun’.
>Taking all of these courses to fill out general requirements.
>You’re currently sitting in Intro to Theatre, with quite easily the craziest professor on campus.
>It’s probably luck that he didn’t spray water at you.
>Or worse.
>”Now where was I?”
>He puts his hand to his long grey goat patch beard.
>”RIGHT! Selective realism! Now, this is something that you should all be proud of, because.”
>He clears his throat.
>”This is one hundred percent all-American, pilgrims.” He says as he salutes the class.
>Solid John Wayne impersonation.
>”Now, Selective or Symbolic Realism is an off shoot of the realism movement that originated in the 40s and 50s in- you guessed it- America.”
>Your eyes start to wander.
>”Simply said, it’s where certain aspects of actions, scenery, or dialogue are heightened and emphasized, while others are omitted.”
>Class is almost over.
>”For example: If Arthur Miller or Tennessee Williams (Two of playwrights that championed the trend) were to write a play about this class, if Anon there was the protagonist, the set would prominently display the clock: seeing as he can’t take his eyes off of it.”
>More laughter from the class.
“Sorry Professor.”

>He looks up to the clock.
>”Why would you be sorry, why didn’t you say anything? Class is over; I set the clock back five minutes to mess with the next class in here. Now for our next class, come having read the Glass Menagerie, there may or may not be a pop quiz.”
>”But on the syllabus it said that there would be a pop quiz over it. Is it really a ‘pop’ quiz if we’ve known about it since the start of the semester?”
>”Well of course it is Miss Heart, it’s not like the majority of the students here actually read the syllabus. If they had, they would have been complaining about not getting free candy last week.”
>The girl sitting in front of you dyed her hair in these fading pink and purple curls, with a light blue streak going through it that matches her eyes.
>She’s something of a teacher’s pet, seeing as she’s one of the theatre students here.
>Her name is Flurry Heart; the name is because of some hippie parents or something.
>Okay tracks of land, but has an excellent rear bumper.
>God bless the inventor of yoga pants.
>You’re eyes drifted as she started walking out of the class room, and you followed.
>You had intended to invite her to the party your dorm is having tonight, but the professor’s voice stopped you.

>”Not so fast Anon, may I have a word?”
>You stop.
“Yeah, sure Professor De Lancie.”
>”You know I go by my first name.”
“Sorry, John.”
>”Come sit down.”
>He indicates to a desk in the front.
>As you go to sit, he sits in a rolling chair and scoots his way over.
“Sorry about falling asleep, football practice was pretty intense this morning.”
>”I don’t care about falling asleep, I care about paying attention.”
“Sorry?”
>”Go on, tell me one thing about my lecture today.”
”…”
>”Any time.”
“Realism?”
>”A for effort”
“Sorry.”
>”Hmm. Describe this room.”
“Why?”
>”Indulge me.”
>You look around.
“Well, it’s a pretty normal room. The clock ticks pretty loudly, but pretty standard aside from that.”
>”I do think you would have enjoyed today’s lecture.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
>”Nothing, I suppose. But anyway, I called you in because there’s something you should know.”
“And what’s that?”
>”I know I can be hard on you, but I’m on your side. I just want to see you succeed.”
“And what, an intro to theatre class will end up saving my life someday?”
>”Not necessarily, I just want to make sure that eventually you come to realize that I’m not the enemy right now. Even if that realization doesn’t come until another life.”
“Okay, really now. What drug are you on?”
>”Life, dear boy. Life! Now go on and get out of here, enjoy yourself cause it won’t last forever.”
“Uhhh, thanks?”
>”Carpe diem, carpe diem!”
>He starts walking out of the room.
>But as he crosses that threshold, he turns back and peeks his head back into the room.
>And then reaches out his hand and points at you.
>”You keep fighting kid!”
>And then he left.
>As you went out of the room, you couldn’t see him in the hallway.
>Huh.

>Well, classes are over so you should probably get going to the store.
>It’s your turn for the snack run for this weekend’s party.
>Your dorm has a cycle so that every time a party comes around, everyone has put some money towards food and booze.
>Then people with cars rotate going to get supplies, the people that are 21 get the booze, while minors get the food.
>You’re a freshman with a car, and your turn has come up.
>So you started across campus to your dorm.
>It’s only around 2 in the afternoon, so even though it’s a Friday, the campus still has a considerable amount of people on it.
>After trekking across the campus, you arrived at your dorm.
>Someone should have dropped off the jar at your room.
>After waving your ID to get into the building, you headed up to the second floor where your room was.
>You go to a small-ish liberal arts college in Suburbia, and propel are actually pretty nice.
>It isn’t dirt cheap, so you don’t get inner city trash, but it’s affordable enough that people with decent grades and testing scores can usually get a full ride.
>Inside of the dorm buildings, almost everyone keep their doors opened or at least unlocked.
>Mainly because a locked door means somebody has… company.
>Or a notable lack thereof.
>Theoretically it’s a dry campus, but no one cares as long as no one dies or causes notable property damage.
>As you got to the last door on the right, you tried your doorknob.
>Unlocked.

>As you enter the room, you’re greeted by your roommate.
>”Hey man! You here for the jar?”
“Yeah.”
>Your roommate Will is…
>Definitely something.
>He’s a nice guy and all, but he’s from Mississippi and is almost a textbook stereotype of a southern hick.
>”Oh, how’d it go with you know who?”
>He tosses over a mason jar filled with various bills and coins.
“Actually, I didn’t get to ask her.”
>”Damn. Well, I’ve got somethin’ that might make up for it.”
>He jumps off of the top bunk of your beds, and starts going through a duffle bag.
>”Nope.”
>He tosses out a handful of dirty underwear and shirts.
>”Nope.”
>He sets a cowbell on the desk next to him.
>”How’d you get in there?”
>There’s one of his shotguns.
>He must have at least three of them hidden around the room.
>”There we go.”
>He pulls out a gallon sized glass jug filled with a clear liquid.
>”Brought it home from Thanksgivin’ direct from the family still.”
>He takes off the cap and offers you a sniff.
“Jesus.”
>”Hundred twenty proof, not our best work but still better than that store bought Russian shit that Tyler keeps bringin’.”
>With that, he spins it round onto his elbow and takes a swig.
>”Woo!”
>As he’s doing… that, you open the mason jar of money.
>After taking out the list of desired snacks and drink mixers, you start putting the cash into your wallet.
>You counted around ninety bucks, plenty for what’s on the list.
“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit; don’t down all of that without me.”
>”Roger that boss.”
>With that, you left your room and started making for the stairs.
>After getting to the ground floor, you went into that floor’s hall.
>Third door on the left.

>Like always, it’s open.
“Yo Tyler.”
>”Yeah?”
>He’s currently sitting on his couch holding an Xbox controller in his hand, playing some shooter on his flat screen.
>He’s a Junior that through some mess up with rooms, has one of the largest rooms in the building all to himself.
>So he volunteered his room to be the dorm’s bar for parties.
“I’m heading out for my run, be back soon.”
>”Hold up, let me see the list.”
>You reach into your pocket and hand it over.
>He sets down the controller, and grabs a pencil to write a couple more things on it.
>And then fishes out a twenty that he hands to you.
>”Thanks man.”
>With that, you take your leave.
>The dorm is relatively quiet right now, but that will be changing in a few hours.
>Across two floors of twelve rooms each, there are currently fifty-three current residents.
>On party nights that can almost triple.
>It’s gotten to the point where some of the guys have to kick people out if they can’t be vouched for.
>After all it’s an all men’s building, so girls can usually come and go as they please.
>But the entrance doors lock automatically, so whoever’s drawn the short straw has to make sure that no random dudes come to crash it.
>There are groups generally in about half of the rooms, but Tyler’s room is usually the biggest.
>All in all, your dorm works a bit like a fraternity but without the self-entitlement.

>After exiting the building you started walking to the farthest corner of the parking lot adjacent to it.
>You don’t mind the walk, and there’s almost always a free parking space no matter what time it is.
>Your sedan’s older than you are and about half rust at this point, but it works and your grandpa gave it to you for free so you can’t complain.
>The nearest grocery store is only about five minutes away down one of the town’s main streets, so you shouldn’t be gone long.
>As you pull out of your spot, you flip on the radio.
>Static.
>You bash your fist against the top of it a few times until it works.
>Highway to Hell is playing.
>As you pull out of the parking lot, you do a double take into the rear view mirror.
>Could have sworn your eyes were pitch black for a second.
>Huh, must be seeing things.
>After driving down one of the larger streets for a while, you shake your steering wheel.
>Are you losing power steering?
>You slide over your right hand from a twelve position into two, and put your left onto ten.
>Nah, steering’s working still.
“AHHHH! What the hell?”
>As you look at your hands, your veins are pressing up against your skin.
>And you’re pretty sure veins aren’t supposed to be pitch black and pulsating like that.
>You blink a few times and shake your head.
>Back to normal.
>And you’re ninety-nine percent you’re not currently high.
>What’s happening?
>Crap.
>You’re in the wrong lane.
>TRUCK!
>…

>[CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON] blares into your ears at a volume of eleven.
>You knock off the headphones placed onto you.
“Gah, I thought we had a truce!”
>”I said maybe.” Amber sings with a smug smile on her face.
>You can’t really blame her, seeing as this back and forth has been going on longer than you’ve been married.
“Love you too.”
>”Now go on, it’s the last stretch.”
>You toss the pillow into the back and get your seat beck upright.
>Just a few more hours on the road.
>…
>With only a couple more stops for food or to use the restroom, you steadily started gaining altitude as you drove into the mountains.
>After getting off the highway, you then started driving in back roads until you reached the gravel path to your lodge.
>Soon, you ended up seeing the building.
>Two stories, and with a pretty nice basement.
>Honestly, your dad left you with a mansion.
>You would have taken up a permanent residence if it wasn’t so isolated.
>It’s built on a flat area and the forest around it has been cleared for almost a hundred feet in every direction.
>As you park relatively close to the front door, you turn off the car and let Frederick out.
>He starts running around, happily barking.
“Alright, you want to start unpacking while I get everything up and running?”
>”If it gets us hot water, then sure.”
>After unlocking the front doors, the first thing you did was to grab a shotgun off of the wall.
>Your dad was a bit of a gun freak.
>But as you put shells into the double barrels, you give the house a quick once over.
>Just in case any wildlife or vagrants have taken up residence while you were gone.
>Thankfully, the house was secure, and you unloaded the gun and put it back onto its rack.
>After getting the power and water running, you went into the main bedroom to help unpack.

>There weren’t a ton of clothes to unpack, and Amber had already finished stocking the fridge and freezer.
>”The others should be getting in the day after tomorrow, got anything planned in particular?”
“Oh I can think of a few things.”
>”First thing’s first Casanova, what do you want to do for dinner tonight?”
>That means she’s in the mood for something fresh.
“Duck?”
>”You and Fred could use the stretch after being cooped up for so long.”
>She reaches into the closet and tosses out a pair of boots and a camouflage jacket.
“That eager to get rid of me, huh?”
>”How else will I nap in peace?”
“Fair enough.”
>After redressing, you told her that you’d be back soon.
>Then you picked out a single shot 20 gauge to take with you.
>It was actually one of the first guns your dad let you fire, he used it to make the point about making every shot count.
>It can also safely drop any animal you’ve encountered in your property.
>You grabbed three shells of bird shot, as well as a couple slugs in case you ran into a bear or anything else that wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of you.
>As you stepped outside, you managed to enjoy the cool mountain air for the first time this trip.

“Frederick, schnell!”
>Your dog runs out of the door as you hold it open.
“Come on buddy, were going on a hunt.”
>After all, this is what he’s trained for.
>Ten thousand acres is quite the personal hunting zone, but you aren’t in the mood for a huge trek.
>The property is dotted with a few streams and couple lakes of various sizes.
>There’s a larger one to the west that you can see from your lodge, but you don’t like shooting in such a close proximity to the building.
>About twenty minutes to the north is a small pond that should do nicely.
>You open the breech of the shotgun, and put in a birdshot shell, then leave it open as you cradle it under your right shoulder.
>Then start heading into the woods.
>…
>An hour later you came out of it with a pair of dead ducks in hand.
“Honey, we’re home!”
>You start to wipe your boots on the welcoming mat inside the lodge.
>Amber yells from another room.
>”Bring me anything nice?”
“Yeah, I’ll start getting them ready.”
>”Great, when they’re ready to cook tell me and I’ll get some other things ready to go with it.”
>…
>As the sun was setting outside, you were just finishing up dinner.
>You tossed some of the leftover meat down to Frederick.
“Good job boy, here’s your share.”
>He barks happily and starts eating away at it.
>”Well, if you’ll excuse me, after two days in the car I could use a hot bath.”
“Sounds nice right about now.”
>”Only problem is, the bathtub in our bathroom is pretty big, I’m afraid I might drown.”
“I’m sure I could put some of those fears at ease.”
>”Oh can you now?”
>…
>A few hours later you lay in bed, exhausted from a day of driving, hunting, and… bathing.
>”Night hon.”
>Amber is lying with her chest at your side, her arm atop your bare chest.
“Love you.”
>You move you head slightly to kiss her forehead before letting yourself fall asleep.
>…

>You raise your head from the wooden bar.
“How long was I out?”
>”Not long,” the innkeeper replies. “The others are here now and over at that table.”
“Thanks.”
>You flip a coin his way before heading over to meet your cohorts.
“So a human, a dwarf, and an elf all meet in a tavern. How cliché?”
>”Aye lad, you think they’ll want us to rescue a princess this time, or slay a dragon?”
>Valdi, your short of stature friend replies.
>”Or maybe rescuing a princess from a dragon?”
>Elduin quips, while scratching his pointed ear.
“It’s the first of the month; obviously someone wants the giant rats out of their basement.”
>Your trio is renowned throughout the land for your proficiency in battle, and in witty remarks.
>”Actually, none of those.”
>A hooded figure says as he approaches.
>He hands you a rolled up scroll, sealed with a royal sigil.
>”This is a warrant for the dark wizard Meldrig, dead or alive.”
>”Necromancers! Figures.” Valdi says before downing the rest of his ale.
>The hooded figure nods to you, and then takes his leave.
>”Meldrig… that will involve sieging his underground complex, said to be guarded by a thousand undead.” Elduin says solemnly.
“Actually, I have an idea about that.”

>After three full day’s ride, your party arrived at the mountains.
>Before you lay two large stone doors, wide open.
>As if to invite poor adventurers to their deaths.
>”Alright, care to explain why ye’ve dragged a donkey and cart with us?”
>”Presumably it has to do with the barrels atop the cart.”
“That it does my pointy eared friend, everyone take a barrel.”
>You each grab one of the three empty barrels and lay them down at entrance to the doors.
>They lie on their sides, the open end facing the entrance.
>Below you can see stone steps going down into the darkness.
“Now what was the command?”
>Your friends look at you in confusion.
“Klaatu Barada... Necktie?”
>Nothing.
“Klaatu Barada… Ni*cough*…. Anything?”
>Negative.
“Klaatu Berada Nepoticide.”
>Words, words, words.
“Klaatu Berada Necter... Nickleback?”
>Right!
“Klaatu… Berada… Nikto!”
>On command water starts rushing out of the barrels and into the dungeon.
“Remember how the Archmage owed us for fetching ten griffon beaks? Well I had him make a few doors to the elemental plane of water.”
>Valdi starts breaking out into laughter as Elduin just looks dumfounded.
“Hope you brought a seat, cause it should take a few hours to fill up.”

>…
>Eventually, you could see water starting to reach the top, so you used the voice command to stop the flow.
>After setting aside you looked down the stairs.
>Calm water.
“Just wait for it.”
>Seemingly on command, the water starts bubbling.
>Moments later, a pale man in a sooping wet black robe breeched the surface, gasping for breath.
>”Fools!”
>He pauses to cough up water.
>”You know not who you are dealin-“
>You give him a swift kick to the front of his face.
>Out like a baby.
>Valdi drags him fully out of the water, letting him lay face down in the grass.
>”So should we bind him and take him to the city?” Elduin asks.
>And the three of you start laughing.
>”What so he can escape?” Valdi states
“Or seize the throne?”
>”Or summon some demon?” Elduin adds.
“Valdi, you can do the honors, one swing into the neck.”
>He raises his axe above his head, and swings down- decapitating Meldrig the dark wizard.
“Good job guys!”
>The earth starts to shake.
>You look up to the mountains, and you see a rockslide starting to approach.
>Simultaneously, your trio just says:
>”Really?”
>And the rocks fall.
>Everyone dies.
>…
>You yawn.
>Your wife is still lying next to you; the Sun is coming into the room and shines off of her hair.
>One more day before being joined by the others.

>And it was a good day.
>It’s hard to explain, it just was.
>Like you hadn’t had a day of just pure bliss for years.
>Or that it’s been an entire life.
>Almost like after what seems like an eternity of always having to deal with the next problem, you suddenly didn’t have to anymore.
>You went for an early morning hike with Amber and Frederick.
>Afterwards you spent a few hours fishing on the lake just outside your lodge.
>Then you watched a few movies that you had on DVD.
>And you fell asleep in each other’s arms, curled up next to your fireplace.
>It was simple, but that didn’t bother you.
>But as you blinked in and out of sleep, you couldn’t shake a feeling.
>Of a dark void through your whole body.
>…
>You were standing on a rooftop.
>By the looks of it, you’re in Chicago.
>You look downwards at yourself.
>Black boots, black pants, black shirt, black trench coat, black sunglasses.
>As you turn your head, you see that you’re alone on the roof.
>”Oh I wouldn’t say that.”
>You spin in a 180, and see a man wearing similar attire.
>But his sunglasses are reflective aviators, and he’s got a goat patch beard.
“Human form doesn’t suit you, Discord.”
>”Wait, you know who I am?”
“I don’t know what you’re planning with all of this dream nonsense, but you messed up with putting me into the knock off Matrix. I’m aware that we’re in a computer program, AND inside a dream, within a dream. What I don’t know is why.”

>”Listen to me very carefully, I didn’t do this. That you’re aware means you’re progressing much faster than I anticipated. I’ll answer all your questions, no strings attached and no antics. But first, you need to fight and you need to win. Remember that this is your mind: you have the power here.”
>And in a flash of light, he was gone.
>”Well, well, well, Mister Anonymous.”
>You turn to face a dozen generic men wearing suits and sunglasses.
>”Lie down and go to sleep. It will be peaceful. Much easier than struggling against the innnnnevitable.”
“What are you?”
>”We… are inevitability. Beyond your mind’s simple comprehension. All encompassing. We are… Fate.”
“Well it sounds like ‘we’ are a walking cliché with a penchant for melodrama.”
>”A jesting insult against what you don’t understand. An archaic response.”
>Seemingly from nowhere, you start to hear a Matrix-esque soundtrack.
“That’s starting to get intense; we both know what that means.”
>”You cannot defeat us, not truly.”
“I’ve been hearing that all my life.”
>The suited men start to fan out.
>You flip open your coat and retrieve a pair of machine pistols.
>They remove their own pistols from their suits.
>But who will cast the first stone?
>The soundtrack shifts into fight music.
>They open fire simultaneously.
>You return fire and start running to your right.
>Dozens of bullets skim behind you as you move as fast as they move.
>Each of your adversaries easily side step and dodge the bullets sent their way.
>You’ve seen this one, guns don’t work.
>You stop in place, and cast aside your weapons.
>They do similarly.
>As some of them start to approach, you remember Discord’s words.
>You have the power here.

>Putting all of your focus you try to do something.
>Anything.
>The music stops.
>Replaced by something.
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwBKjK7Xik0
“Not what I expected, but okay.”
>The first of them approaches.
>And you let your dream machine downloaded martial arts skills take over.
>Modified slightly with your real world hand to hand experience.
>After a half minute of exchanging blows, you got behind your adversary and hear the ever so familiar sound of a snapping neck.
>One by one they all fell.
>Necks were snapped, some went down to the pavement, and you even ripped the still beating heart out of one.
>All that was left was the one that spoke to you.
>Because that’s how these overdone and generic fight scenes go.
>You fought tirelessly against your final foe.
>But he kept getting hits in, and you weren’t able to reciprocate.
>Eventually you were bloody and lying against a heating unit on the roof.
>Because that’s how these fights always end, now he’ll start a monologue.
>”Like I said. Inevitable.”
>You begin focusing once more.
>”What is that?”
“You need to watch more movies.”
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEjgPh4SEmU
>Better, you might just be getting the hang of it.
>Your wounds are miraculously healed, and you flip onto your feet.
>Right about now you’ll be able to beat him with ease.
>…

>Okay maybe everything isn’t that clichéd.
>You’ve been fighting for hours.
>Neither able to get the edge.
>Third time’s the charm.
>He stops and takes a step back.
>”What do you hope to accomplish with that… change of wardrobe Mister Anonymous?”
>Your all black attire is gone.
>And you might have just taken a page from Discords school of thought.
“You’re in a lucid dream now. And I’m not Anon... I’m Dorothy Gale from Kansas!”
>You look down past your dress, and tap your ruby slippers together three times.
>There’s no place like home.
>…
>And you teleport to early 20th century farm.
>That might buy you a few moments to think.
>Alright, this won’t end till you can beat him.
>A sphere of lighting appears before you, and the suited man takes place where it once was.
>That was quick.
>But maybe you can tire him out.
>”Running won’t accomplish anything. Eventually you will need rest.”
“Like hell, I’m already asleep. But I hear that Boston’s nice this time of year.”
>…
>Perfect.
>The big red button is ready to be pressed.
>And you’re out of the dress, the jumpsuit is pretty snug, but no time to complain.
>And your hunter appears in the area below.
“You’re gonna need a name, how ‘bout Steve?”
>You press the botton.
>”Naming us changes nothing. You have no hope of besting us.”
“Hey, that guy in the suit hates America!”
>”What?”
>”INITIATING DIRECTIVE 7395: DESTROY ALL COMMUNISTS”
“Steve, meet Liberty Prime.”
>”COMMUNIST TARGET ACQUIRED”
>He turns around to catch the brunt of the giant robot’s head laser.
>As the dust settles, you see Steve just standing there.
“Oh come on.”
>He turns back to you.
>”You cannot defeat me Mister Anonymous. You cannot fight Fat-“
>”DEFEAT IS NOT AN OPTION”
>Liberty Prime raises his leg and brings it down.
>But Steve catches it, stopping it with a single raised hand.
>Alright, next plan.

>…
>Hand to hand doesn’t work.
>Guns won’t either.
>Lasers had no effect, and blunt force didn’t do anything either.
>Something has got to kill it.
>You’re currently in a dark hallway that’s coated in a black resin.
>The mist around you lights up as your attacker appears near you.
>But, he’s taking longer to appear whenever you switch setting.
>”A trip through reconstructed memories won’t save you.”
“But you hear those klaxons? Welcome to LV-426, we’re in the middle of a reactor that should be going up in three, two, bye.”
>…
>40 megaton nuclear explosion, that’s got to get rid of him/it.
>You’re in a park, so you sit down against one of the trees.
>You’ve been on your feet for too long.
>Why are you getting tired in a dread?
>You hear the air crackling.
>”That’s because you never even entertained the idea that this isn’t a dream, per say.”
“Why aren’t you dead?”
>”Because you can’t fight-“
“Yeah yeah yeah, knock it off.”
>”Ready to accept inevitability?”
“No actually, this right here is Alderaan. And this nice park is ground zero.”
>…
>That probably didn’t work, but it should buy you some time.
>About ten seconds are added after each jump to a new area.
>Huh, you’re holding a lit flare.
>Wearing winter gear, and have a flamethrower on your back.
>You turn around and your flare illuminates the grotesque abomination that used to be Blair.
“My mistake, I’d rather not have you and Steve anywhere near each other.”
>…
>Nice suit.
>They should be getting in this room right as Steve does.
>Just need to wait…
>A minute later the room light’s up.
>”You cannot run foreve-“
>” Ex-ter-minate!”
>Steve lights up blue as an energy beam hits him, illuminating his skeleton.
>And he’s still standing.
>”EXTERMINATE EXTERMINATE!”
>The last thing you saw were more of them shooting at your follower.

>…
>You’re wearing an olive BDU inside of a missile complex.
>Nuclear explosions, planetary destruction, and extermination didn’t work.
>You’ve got one more idea before resorting to divine intervention.
>One of the technicians in the control room starts speaking over the intercom, you can see him behind the glass looking into the room.
>”Sir, how did you get there.”
”Never mind that Walter, just start dialing.”
>”Where?”
“Anywhere. And stay quiet till the last one.”
>A rotating stone like sound starts filling the room, stopping for the loud chunks into place.
>One.
>Steve has to be getting worn out at this point, even if he doesn’t show it.
>Two.
>After all, every time you jump it’s like he has to search your entire mind just to find you.
>Three.
>And with each jump, he takes noticeably longer to get to you.
>Four.
>But you still have no idea to actually kill it.
>Five.
>Hopefully this works.
>Six.
>”Mister Anonymous.”
>He appears before you at the top of the metal ramp.
“Bad idea.”
>Walter’s voice comes in over the intercom.
>”Chevron seven is locked!”
>A kawoosh of what looks to be water shoots out of the stone ring.
>And the unstable vortex of the Stargate’s artificial wormhole overtakes Steve.
>When it falls back into the standing pool of shimmering light, it worked.
>You start heading up the ramp.
>Planted on the ground are the severed feet of Steve, charred at the top where it met the wave.
>Disintegration will do that.
>You start walking back down the ramp.
>”Uhhh, Sir?”
“What is it Walter?”
>He’s currently staring behind you.
>You turn.
>And from the remains of Steve, a murky black semi-liquid is raising up from the feet.
>Forming a rough silhouette of a man, that then solidifies back into the thing that was chasing you.
>Nope.

>…
>You spent the next few minutes hopping between normal earth cities.
>Rome, Barcelona, New York, Tokyo, Moscow.
>You needed time to think.
>Any conventional way of stopping it doesn’t work.
>And you don’t know how to kill it.
>You don’t know how to kill it.
>Maybe that’s why it’s still alive.
>Okay, think.
>All you know is that it’s in your head.
>That gives you an idea.
>…
>You’re in a dimly lit bedroom, holding a revolver.
>All you need to do is wait.
“Come on Steve, no more running.”
>Speak of the devil.
>”Hello Mister Anonymous.”
“Hold up, now tell me one thing before I accept inevitability or whatever.”
>”Very well, we will indulge you.”
“Alright, so you’re in my head right.”
>”Indeed.”
“And I take it you’re from Equestria.”
>”Correct.”
“See this memory isn’t of any media, it’s a modified personal memory.”
>”How so?”
>The door opens, and you walk in.
>You point your gun at you.
>”Woah, gun. Are you the government?”
“Get in here.”
>”What is the meaning of this?” Steve asks.
“This is me.”
>A beardless college student who has no sense of real direction.
“A few days before Equestria.”
>”Look can I just like, go?”
“Quiet, now.” You turn back to Steve. “The way I see it, I can’t kill you because I don’t know how. But in my mind, if I’m dead before I would ever encounter you, then it’s a paradox and you would cease to be.”
>You pull the trigger, and the younger you falls over.
>But nothing else happens.
>”But you know that the younger you is also a part of this charade. Therefore, killing him has no effect.”
>You should have thought this out more.
“Maybe.”
>You press the gun’s barrel at your temple.
“But I’m real, and you’re in my head.”
>You pull the trigger.

>…
>You awake to the sound of Amber humming and the scent of breakfast begin cooked.
>Frederick runs over to you as you start sitting upright.
“Hey there boy.”
>”Well look who’s finally up?”
>You glance over at the nearest clock.
>It’s nearly ten.
>You haven’t slept in that much since college.
>As you get on your feet, you feel slightly dizzy.
>”Good thing you’re up now, or else you’d be eating cold left overs.”
“You sleep well.”
>”Yeah… you okay? You look pretty pale.”
“I’ll be fine once my blood starts pumping and there’s some food in my belly.”
>”Go on and sit down, I’m just about done.”
>…
>As you ate breakfast, you weren’t that talkative.
>And as soon as you finished, you went straight to take a cold shower.
>You’re having one of the worst migraines in your life.
>It feels like all of your grey matter is being mixed around.
>…

>Immediately afterwards, you found yourself in the basement.
>Standing next to your bar, throwing darts at the target on the opposite wall.
>In your left hand you held a glass with a sizable amount of whiskey on the rocks.
>Everything… everything’s just so… surreal.
>It’s hard to explain.
>Everything is just off.
>The layout of the room, the feel of the darts in your hand, the taste of your whiskey, even how your clothes sit on you.
>”Hey, so that’s where you ran off to.”
>You see Amber approaching from the stairs at the far side of the room.
>”Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
“You tell me.”
>”It’s barely past noon.”
“Is it?”
>”That far gone already?”
“No, it’s just… doesn’t this seem, I don’t know… wrong?”
>”I’m with you, how could it ever feel wrong?”
“I don’t mean it like that, but everything around us.”
>”How so?”
“Well, describe this room to me.”
>She looks around.
>”Bar, pool table, dart board, couch, TV. Through that room is a bathroom with a hot tub. The one next to it is storage, and down that hall is the boiler and laundry room.”
“All of the items are there, but what about the specifics?”
>”… It’s pretty normal.”
“Selective realism.”
>”Sorry, what was that, you need to speak up.”
>You don’t even know why you said that.
“I don’t-“
>You’re cutoff by a doorbell’s sound resonating through the lodge.
“That’ll be your sister or Flurry, I’ll get it.”
>You set down the dart and your drink, and then head up the stairs.
>The bell rings again.
“I’m coming, just calm down. You’re making my headache worse.”
>As you open the front door, you’re met with white emptiness.
>There’s nothing, just blank past the door’s frame.
>You don’t know why, but you feel drawn into it.
>You pass through the threshold.
>And as you turn around, the inside of your lodge is nowhere to be seen.
>Only the emptiness.