Rebels in Equestria 12

 *Clip clop clip clop clip clop*
> The sound of Twilight's hooves echoed with clock work in the cluttered library.
> A small candle sitting atop her desk creates dancing shadows throughout the room.
> The candle has become little more than a stump of molten wax and brittle wick.
> In the corner of the room Spike snoozes peacefully atop a pile of books; exhausted after catering to Twilight's tasks all day.
> The walls are lined with bookshelves, albeit most of them empty.
> Instead, dozens of book lie strewn throughout the oak floor.
> Twilight trots along the bookshelf wall, her eyes dancing back and forth between the book titles.
> "No...No...No...No...." she mutters to herself.

> She's been at this for hours.
> Ever since the welcoming party, she's kept herself cooped up inside her library.

> A copy of Anonymous' journal sits atop of the candle lit desk.
> A thin layer of dust has started to collect on top of its leather binding

> "Ah Hah!" exclaims Twilight. "There you are!"
> She pulls a thick leather bound book from one of the shelves and begins flipping through the pages.
> Almost autonomously, she reads each page in a matter of moments. Absorbing the information like a sponge.
> "Found it." she whispers.

> She trots over to the desk with the book.
> It, like the library, is a complete disaster.
> Opened scrolls and books lay in complete chaos.
> With the exception of the journal, books of all types are piled high on top of each other.

> "Tsk. No no. This won't do." she says.
> And a quick flick of her magic, she sends the books from the desk into the air.
> She does quick work of them and neatly sorts them back into place.
> Turning her attention to the rest of the library, she finishes the job, leaving the room in pristine condition.
> "Perfect!" she says.
> Satisfied with her work, she turns her attention to the journal.

> It sits there unopened.
> Almost as if it were taunting her.
> Inside lies all of Anonymous' deepest secrets.
> His personal thoughts, memoirs and recollections.
> Details from his past life, that up until now, he's refused to share with her.

> Twilight recalls the incident that happened hours earlier in her lab.
> It was terrible.
> Never in her life has she seen someone endure that much pain in front of her.
> Never in her life has she caused someone that much pain.
> The guilt was over whelming.

> The test's results where scarring.
> Her test equipment used the latest in Equestrian Technologies, and the most advanced of magic to give her an accurate outlook into Anonymous' state of mind.
> Allowing her to step into his shoes. To see with his eyes, albeit for a sliver of a moment.
> What she witnessed was disturbing.
> If even for a few brief moments, she was able to peer into his mind and soul.
> His very essence that made him who he was.

> During that moment, she felt nothing but hatred, pain, sorrow.
> He hides behind an empty shell of who he once was.
> Albeit for just a moment, she was able to see snapshots of Anon's dream.
> His nightmares.
> Even for just a moment, she peered into him.
> A cold shudder passes through her.
> "He needs help." she says to herself.

> Finally, she turns her attention to Anonymous' Journal.
> She opens it to the inside cover, where a few words are hand written in a neat penmanship.

> "Here goes nothing."
> After struggling for a bit, she manages to get a magic spark going.
> A deep purple aura sparks from her horn.
> Eventually she shoots it in the direction of the book.
> The pages of the book catch the aura.
> The ink on the page starts to shift.
> Slowly but surely, the letters begin to shift and alter.
> Almost as if they're dancing throughout the paper.

> Page by page, the journal translates from the alien language English, to her native tongue, Equestrian.
> Every single scribble and through once limited to Anon's eyes were now unlocked for Twilight.
> A toothy grin makes its way onto her face.
> "Oh my gosh..."

> When the spell finishes, the book lands with a loud "THUD" onto the desk.
> It's secrets now unlocked.

> "Finally!"
> She eagerly picks up the book and opens it to the inside cover.
"Property of A. Anonymous."
> "It worked!" she exclaims.
> She happily trots around the room in a small victory lap, content with her work.

> She trots over to the desk once more and opens the journal once more.
> Her eyes buggy and red with exhaustion. Regardless, one can spot the slimmer of curiosity and glee in her eyes.
> In the same way that a child would see a Christmas present ripe for the taking.
> Without further hesitation she pop’s open the cover and turns to the first page.
> “Let’s start with the first entry shall we?”
> She reads aloud to herself, in a quiet whispered tone.

> August 17th, 2015
> Day one of occupancy

> This is nothing less than a living hell.
> It’s madness.
> I’ve never witnessed such an immense loss of life than the past 24 hours.
> I don’t know how, but I’ve managed to narrowly escape the patrols, and possibly death.
> As I write, there are dozens of raids going on throughout the city.
> People’s cries for help echo throughout these streets, almost taunting me.

> It’s strange.
> Although it’s only been a few hours since the start of the invasion, it FEELS longer.
> It’s strange to think that this day started out like any other.
> I should have seem this coming, it’s so obvious. The signs are all there.

> Regardless, it all started this summer morning.
> The semester doesn’t start for a few more weeks, and I was in between jobs, so I was finding myself at home more often than I’d like.
> But it wasn’t all too bad, at least I had company.
> I share this small loft apartment with another student.
> My roommate is a gruff and well adjusted man just a few years older than me.
> We were finding refuge from the summer heat in our living room, where he was telling me about his latest endeavors with the opposite sex…


--

> "...anyways, when I couldn't pinpoint the exact location of my humble 'summer cottage' in the Hamptons, she dropped me right there."
> He sits in an old torn recliner, staring out the window.
> You idly sit at your computer reading online news reports, listening to your room mates endeavors.
> The single ceiling fan in the room gave little to no relief from the summer heat.
> It almost made you eager to return to class and to the air conditioned lecture halls from your university.
> Almost.
> "Cold! Damn, I looked like an idiot, still holding the drinks I've been paying for all night."
"Tch. That blows."
> "Well who cares. You know? Her loss."
> He finishes his bottle of beer, and pops open another.
> "Hey, what are ya reading? What's going on with the world?"
"Hmm, let's see. This heat wave is causing crops to be at an all time low, we could be looking at a food shortage. Isabella Angeline is caught illegally trafficking a large number of weapons into the country. The Estovakian economy is at an all time low. And-"
> "Man does nothing interesting ever happen in the world? I mean for once I'd like to hear about something cool li-....Woah. Isabella Angewhatever - she's that hot spoke's babe for the "Warning Against Red's" movement?"
"So?"
> "Ehh, saw her on TV yesterday."
"No idea. Besides, I don't follow all that conspiracy crap like you do!"
> "Whaddaya mean 'conspiracy crap'? Doesn't the Stovie Government Uprising bother you? Doesn't the fact that they've been amassing WMD's despite a failing economy bother you?!"
"Tch."
> "You need a reality check man'. Know what? Next thing you know you're going to be waking up under a red flag and you won't be thinking its conspiracy crap then."
"Riiight."


> The moon's dim blue light is barely visible past the overcast skies and cluttered skyline.
> Your skin tingles as a cool breeze howls throughout the city
> You and your room mate stand with a crowd of people idly on the edge of a crosswalk waiting for the cross signal.
> It's a blur of headlights as dozens of cars zoom down the street.
> "You're so in denial!"
> The smell of alcohol is slight on his breath.
"Tch."
> "Just try listening to those 'Warning Against Reds' guys! They've really got some interesting idealog-

> Before he can finish his sentence, he is cut short by the sounds of explosion.

> You quickly turn to the source of the blast.
> One of the sky scrapers along the skyline is on fire. Thick black smoke spiral's from a gaping hole in the side.
> The roaring boom of jet fighters can be heard overhead.
> Looking up, you can see the tell-tale cloud trails left behind by the fighters.
> Their afterburners a stark contrast with the night sky.

> "Fuck!" your room mate shouts.
"W-W-What the hell!?"

> You watch as the fighters circle around once more.
> This time, they form into a simple "V" formation and head your way.
> They begin dropping bombs on various buildings lining the streets.

> "Shit!"
> "Run!"
> The sounds of people screaming and sirens wailing fill you ears.
> Police cars and ambulances are rushing towards downtown to the burning sky scrapers.

> A nearby building has collapsed from one of the bombs.
> It is nearly leveled, leaving little more than rubble.
> From inside you can hear the faint cries for help from those underneath.
> A group of people had already gathered around the rubble to begin pulling out trapped victims.
> Their intentions are well, but their cause was hopeless.
> "Ready!?" one of the men shouted. "On three we lift!...One!...Two!...Three!"
> The group grasps a twisted metal beam and tries lifting it.
> A woman trapped underneath the beam shrieks in pain with each motion.

> Try as they may, the beam does not budge.
> "Fuck!"
> "Someone call the fire department! They have pnuematic tools!"
> "No! Are you shitting me?! That'll take too long!"
> "We need more guys!"

> "Hey! Hey you!"
> A burly man from the group calls over to you
> "Get your ass over here! We need some fucking help!"

> You take a good look at the situation.
> There's about a dozen or so men by the collapsed building.
> A young woman is trapped underneath, and these Samaritans are trying to pull her out.
> A twisted metal beam is pinning her head down.
> All the meanwhile, the city is being bombarded by an unknown enemy.
> The formation of jets has already begun another pass over in your direction.
> They're dropping bombs and firing their 30 millimeter canon's at will.

"No..."
> You take a few steps back.
"No...No...No..."
> "Hey! Hey! Where the fuck are you going!?"
> Picking up the pace, you run away.
> "Hey! Get the fuck back here! Coward!"

> Panic catches up to you.
> You starting sprinting.
> Running with the mob of people away from the explosions.

> You keep sprinting down the streets.
> The city's power lines have been knocked down, and for the first time since you can recall, the skylines are pitch black.
> The only things illuminating the streets are the fires from the burning rubble.

> Police officers and fire fighters scurry about the streets.
> Their mixed orders and lack of direction causing more chaos than good.

> Tanks and military vehicles start rolling down the streets.
> Soldiers and other personnel begin disembarking from them.
> They are armed with various weapons and gadgets.
> Truly a force to be reckoned with.

> “The military?!”
> “Thank god! They’ll know what to do!”
> “Hey, no pushing!”
> You, along with the rest of the crowd tried making your way to the parked vehicles.

> Safety is just beyond those lines.
> There must be a green zone set up by the military.
> They must have an evacuation plan.
> A counter attack.
> Something.
> Anything.

> The closer you get, the more nervous you get.
> You’d imagine that in the middle of a crisis situation, they’d be a little more fleet footed.
> But instead, they held their ground. Maintaining in perfect formation without moving a muscle.
> As you neared, you notice all their vehicles and uniforms seemed all too foreign.
“No…Please, god no.” you mutter as you realize the gravity of the situation.

> Among the battalion sit several armed men, tanks and vehicles.
> A young officer is manned one of the APC’s machine guns.
> He fair skinned with a short military hair cut.
> A look of disgust and hatred is in his eyes.
> He speaks in a different language than yours, his tone full and confident.
> “???? ?????!”
> He readies his weapon, aiming for the crowd of people.
“W-What?!”
> “???? ??!” he shouts.


> Without warning, the battalion opens fire on the civilians.
“Sh-Shit!”


> With nothing else but your own well being in mind, you shove your way across the crowd.

> You press onwards as fast as you can, praying that you don’t become a target.
> People drop like flies.
> No one was spared.
> Not even the women or children.

> You make it to an alley way nestled between two restaurants.
> The sounds of gunfire still echo nearby.
> They’re getting closer.

> [spoiler] Hide. You gotta hide! [/spoiler]

> Using your cell phone as a flash light you search the pitch black alley for a suitable hiding place.
> A small dumpster in the corner seems tempting.
> You open it up and peer inside.

> It’s packed to the brim with rotting trash.
> A few rats scatter as you open the lid.
> The smell is absolutely repulsive.
> Off in the distance, you can hear a more troops headed your way.
“D-Damn it!”
> Albeit hesitant, you make your way inside and close the lid behind you.

> You squeeze in between bags of garbage and debris.
> The smell of rotting food makes you nauseous.
> Your entire body is trembling with fear.

> Attempting to call your family via cell leads to no response.
> None of your friends or classmates is responding either.
> You can only assume the worst.

> Just outside the dumpster you can hear the constant barrage of gunfire.
> The explosions and jet engines are completely deafening.
> Yet, despite all this you still manage to hear people.
> People screaming.
> People laughing.

> You turn to tears and cringe into a fetal position.

> Nerves on edge, you keep a close eye on the horizon.
> You pray for this night to end, one way or another.
> Just above the city skyline, just above the horizon, you can see the warm glow of light.

-----

> The morning sun dawns.
> It’s golden light creeps its way into the room.
> Off in the distance, you can hear Ponyville waking up from it’s slumber.
> But not you.

> You only managed to catch a few hours of sleep.
> The constant nightmares were restless.
> To try to get rest at that point was daunting. Impossible even.

> Almost autonomously you made your way outside the boutique.
> You grabbed your gear and made your way outside.

> Save for the cool wind blowing through the town, the night was quiet.
> Your weapon was loaded and at the ready.
> You had the worst feeling in your gut.
> [spoiler] It was the same feeling from earlier that night. [/spoiler]
> [spoiler] Someone. No, something had been stalking you. [/spoiler]
> [spoiler] It probably followed you all night long to Rarity’s [/spoiler]
> Someone has been watching you.
> And it’s genuinely bothers you.
> It’s almost frightening.

> While only a select few here in Equestria knew of your weaponry, even they didn’t know to what extent you were armed.
> You fumble around your satchel and produce a small explosives detonator. The very same one you used on the suspension bridge.
> A smug grin draws its way on your face.
“There’s a time and place for everything…”
> You hide the detonator back in the bag.
“But not now…”

> As the day becomes stronger, your fear recedes.
> A few residents pass by the street and offer good mornings.
> There is safety in numbers you suppose.
> Whatever lay in hiding will have to wait for another chance.

> You can hear horse drawn carriages clattering on the cobblestone roads of P0nyville.
> The irony is amusing.

> You take a cigarette from your pocket and light it.
> For just a moment, you ignore your plights and enjoy the flavor.
> The rich taste.
> It’s almost nostalgic.
“Mmmm. What I wouldn’t give to share one with your guys.”
> Bastards.
> They’d probably swindle you out of all your cigs anyways.

> Getting up, you stretch your body.
> Staying in a crouched position all night had cramped up your body.
> As you stretch to and fro, your body lets out various relaxing cracks.
> A sting of pain comes from some of the wounds that have yet to fully heal.
“That’s enough for now.”

> The gauntlets you’ve been wearing catch the golden sunlight and reflect it into your eyes.
> You take a quick moment to examine them further.
> The way the light catches the emblems is captivating, it’s almost as if they’re glowing on their own.
> You take them off and examine them closer in the sunlight.
> It’s then when you realize there was an engraving on the inside of the cuffs.
> On the golden cuff, a small message is engraved.
> It reads : “In recognition of your honor, sacrifice and bravery.”
> There is also an engraving on the silver cuff.
> Your full name, birthday and place of birth was engraved in a small and fine font.
“Woah.” You mummer to yourself.
> You had never disclosed that information to any here.
> Then it dawns on you that the only person that would have access to this information was Celestia.
> You realize that she knows more about you than she leads on.

> You re-read the message that was included with the cuffs.
> It’s hand written on the finest piece of parchment and signed by Celestia herself.
> “We welcome you into Equestria with open arms as an honorary member of the royal family. These cuffs are a testament to that fact. They represent all that and more. Wear them with pride.”
…
“Royal family huh?”
> What kind of rights would that entail?
> Why would they give them to you?
> Is this some sort of reward or incentive?

> “Anon?”
> You turn to the doorway, where Rarity stands.
“Yeah?”
> “Did you sleep well? I hope you’re not too flustered after last night’s party.”
“No. I’m fine. And I slept well, thank you.”
> [spoiler] Lie. Lie. Lie. [/spoiler]
> “Oh, excellent!”
> You exchange warm smiles.
> “Oh? And what are those?” Rarity asks, gesturing at your gauntlets.
> You hand her the note and gauntlets.
“It’s just something that they sent me. I’m not entirely sure what it means though.”
> As Rarity reads the letter, her eyes widen.
> “Anon! You should be honored!”
“W-What? Why?”
> “An honorary member of the Royal Family? That’s the highest honor anyp0ny can receive here in Equestria!”
“Really?”
> “Yes really! This is only awarded to a select few! Not even Shining Armor has this title!”
> Awarded?
> You ponder it for a moment.
> Is Celestia rewarding you?
> Does this have to do with your actions in the war?
> Maybe…
> Maybe this is her version of the Medal of Honor?
> Most of them are awarded posthumously anyways, and technically, you did die.

“Shining Armor?”
> “Of course, you haven’t met him yet have you?”
“Not yet. How is he?”
> “Oh he’s simply charming! A strong and dependent stallion he is.”
“Really?”
> “Well of course! They just don’t make anyone Captain of the Royal Guard!”
“Royal Guard? You mean like for Celestia?"
> "Mmmhmm."
"Sounds prestigious.”

> You pull out another cigarette and light it.
> Rarity looks at you with disgust
> "Honestly?!" she exclaims
"W-What?"
> She picks up the cigarette butt and properly disposes of it
> "Smoking?! Blech, it's absolutely repulsive! Do you have any idea what that smoke does to your mane?"
"You know, you worry waayy to much. I know it's a bad habit, but it's not THAT bad."
> She grabs the cigarette out of your hand and extinguishes it.
"Hey!"
> She also snags the rest of the pack and levitates them just out of your reach.
> "Anon, you realize I hold you and your customs to the highest regard right?"
"Yeah?"
> "But I simply cannot allow this to continue! It's disgusting!"
"W-What?!"
> "Please be more considerate Anon! I can't have you smoking around Sweetie Belle like that!"
> You stand up and snatch the pack back into your grasp.
"Don't worry about it!"
> You reassure her ever so nonchalantly
> "Hmm. Fine. Let's just head inside. We've got a long day ahead of us."

> You make your way back into the home.
> Reaching the kitchen, you find a groggy Sweetie Belle slouched over the dining table.
> The smell of a home cooked breakfast wafts into your senses.
> Looking over to the counter you spot an array of breakfast foods.
> It's inviting as it is mouth watering.
> "I hope you're hungry, help yourself!" Rarity exclaims.

> You spend the rest of meal chatting up with Rarity and Sweetie Belle.
> She is still curious about you and your kind, shamelessly asking questions of all sorts.
> You try your best to answer as many questions without giving away your secrets.
> [spoiler] She's much too young. She wouldn't understand. [/spoiler]

> "...and that's how we formed the Cutie Mark Crusaders! Pretty neat, huh?"
"Cutie Mark Crusaders? You know I really like the sound of that! It rolls of the tongue quiet nicely!"
> "You really think so!?"
"Yeah! Definitely!...Much better than 'Wolverines'...." you grumble.
> The two ponies stare at you with confusion, filling you with an awkward sensation.

"So...you said something about a cloubhouse?"
> "Oh yeah! The Cutie Mark Crusaders would be nothing without our club house!"
"So where is it?"
> "Oh! It's on Sweet Apple Acres! Next to Apple Family's barn!"
"Why's it so far away?"
> "Well, it used to be Apple Jack's club house when she was just a little filly. So she gave it to us!"
"Tch. It must be in terrible shape then!"
> "No! No! Apple Bloom and Scootaloo helped me fix it up! It looks amazing!"
"Yeah riight!"
> "Really! It does!"
"Yeah okaay." you say in a sarcastic tone.
> "Lemme show you then! Come on, I'll take you there right now!"
> Sweetie Belle was ready to make a dash for the door before being stopped by Rarity.
> "Ah ah ah! And where do you think you're going little missy!?"
> " I was just going to show Anonymous the clubhouse!"
> "On a school day? I don't think so! Now hurry up and gather your books, you're going to be late for class!"
> "Rarityyy! You're no fun!" whines Sweetie Belle
> "Now now! Off to class!"
> With a disappointed look in her face, she makes her way out the door.

> The two of you begin cleaning up after the meal, occasionally stopping to make conversation.
"Man, she seems like a handful."
> "Only sometimes. Most of the time she is simply a little-"
"Sweetie Belle?" you ask with a coy look on your face.
> She pucnhes you in the side for making such a crude pun.
> You wince in pain.
"H-Hey! That hurts you know!"
> Rarity laughs in response.
"I-I'm serious!"

> You finish cleaning up the mess of your breakfast, and as soon as you do Rarity leads you into another room of the house.
> She leads you back upstairs into a room you haven't entered before.
> The entire room is in complete chaos.
> Pieces of fabric and clothing are strewn throughout the room.
> Pony mannequins lay about the room, half of them donning some form of unfinished dresses.
> She leads you to stand on a small pedestal surrounded by mirrors and removes your clothing, leaving you in little more than your underwear.
> "Now just stand still for a moment."
> You do as your told.
> And all the meanwhile she begins her work.
> Using a tape measure she gets your body's measurements, just as a tailor would.
> She records everything on a sheet of paper with a rough sketch of your silhouette.
> "Anon?"
"Yeah?"
> "Do you miss it?"
"W-What?"
> "Your home? Do you miss it?"
> You fall silent for a moment before responding.

"There isn't a moment that goes by that I don't think about them."
> "Them?"
"My family and friends. The people I once held close to my heart."
> "You don't anymore?"
"I can't."
> "Why?"
"Because, they're all dead."
> She shakes her head in denial and holds up various pieces of fabric up to your skin for color comparison.

> "N-Nonono. Surely there must be someone out there..."
"No trust me.” You cut her off before she can continue.
“I lost contact with everyone I knew before the war."
> "But just because you lost touch with them doesn't mean that they’re gone!"
"Yeah. Yeah it does. Trust me. I’ve experienced firsthand how their prisoners. I know how they fight their wars."
> "What do you mean 'fought their wars'? Isn't war just war? Reckless violence amongst men?"
"You'd think that. But we’re not as barbaric as you’d think.”
> “Oh? How so?”
“There are rules Rarity. There are rules for everything. While war seems like a huge ensemble of chaos on its surface, it’s actually a well strategized event. Each move is carefully planned out with the opponents next move in mind.”
> “Sounds more like a game of chess.”
“Exactly. And like chess, there are rules of war."
> "Rules of war? That sounds incredibly redundant. War is war, no matter how you want to put it. In the end, it all boils down to one party killing another in a barbaric and primitive manner. Or am I wrong?”
"You’re totally wrong. It’s nothing like that!"
> "I don't understand."
"Well it's kinda like this:  Humanity has always been deadlocked in a constant battle against itself. Even from the earliest of civilizations, man has always fought against itself. Fighting is nothing new to mankind. In fact, I think over time, we’ve become more accustomed to being with a closed fist and an open palm."
> As you explain, she holds various strips of fabric up to your body to compare colors.
" It’s not just two men going at each other with swords and shields anymore Technology advances at an amazing rate. And many of the advances found in science and technology are applied to means of warfare. So in turn, we had found some truly effective ways of killing ourselves. We’ve crafted weapons that give man powers of a god.”
> "Like that 'rifle' of yours?"
"Oh god no. You're thinking too small. This rifle is nowhere near on the scale I'm talking about."
> "But that thing has the power to take any down from a distance! How is that not dangerous?"
"No. I'm talking on a much larger scale. Much larger!"
> "Like what? Dare I ask.”
“You guys have bombs here right? Explosives?”
> “Yes. To some extent, most of it is offensive unicorn magic.”

“Okay then. Picture this. A bomb so dangerous it’s been universally banned from ever being used in warfare again.”
> “Now it can’t be that bad.”
“But it is. We call it the atomic bomb, an explosive device that uses unstable elemental reactions to release untold amounts of raw energy. Within less than a second it can extinguish thousands of lives in an instant. The shock wave from this blast has the power to level and entire city in an instant.”

> “I-I don’t believe you! You’re bluffing!”
“The sad part is that I’m not. In my history Nuclear Weapons have been used on civilian cities, killing thousands of innocent civilians.”
> “But. W-Why would anyone do that!? That’s absolutely disgusting!”
“Ironically it was used to put a swift end to one of the world’s most largest wars.”

> She shakes her head in disgust
> “No. That’s just...No…”
“After that incident, much of the world came forward and banned the use of those types of bomb again. Potentially saving millions of innocent lives in the action.”
> You simply shudder the thought off and disembark the small pedestal. Quickly dressing yourself once more.
> Rarity on the other hand is a little taken back, you can just barely see her trembling.

“Now you understand why there are rules of war. And why it is crucial to uphold them.”
> “I hardly think those rules would do you any good, you still have to deal with the reckless actions man.”
“They would in theory. Some of them are pretty simple: Don’t use weapons of mass destruction. If your enemy surrenders you take them as prisoners and treat them humanely. Don’t cause any unnecessary violence or collateral damage. And above all, don’t point a gun at anyone who isn’t pointing one at you.”
> “You make it sound like it was a sport of sorts!”
“Hardly. In theory these rules would help retain some form of dignity in that god forsaken mess….Well at least, in theory.”
> “What went wrong?”
“Rules are rules. They are set forth for one to follow. However…”
> “However?”
“ There are those who don’t play by the rules, and the Stovies were one of them… Those bastards.”
> Rarity falls silent for a moment before looking at you once more.
> “Did you?”

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

> You both turn to the window.
> Outside you can see a hesitant Fluttershy hovering outside. She timidly waves to both of you.
> “Oh! She’s here early!”
“You were expecting company?”
> Rarity opens the window and welcomes Fluttershy inside.
> “Well of course! She’s going to take you out on the town!”
“W-What? Why? Aren’t you coming?”
> “I’ve got to get started on your wardrobe silly! I pledged not to leave this house until you’re dressed head to toe in excellence!”
“And you’re sure it’s not too much trouble? You don’t need my help?”
> “Oh heavens no! I prefer to work alone.”
> She takes one good look at you.
> “Besides, you’d probably just get in my way.”
“H-Hey!”
> “Oh I’m only joking Anon. You know that.”
“Hmph.”

> You turn to the patiently waiting Fluttershy.
“So, what did you have in mind for today?
> “Well… I was thinking of a nice quiet walk on one of my favorite trails. And maybe a bite to eat… I-If that’s alright with you Anonymous?”
“Yeah! Hell, what are we waiting for?”

> You headed back to your bedroom and prepared for your day.
> Donning your new gauntlets, you holster your revolver on your belt.
> At this point Rarity’s intentions are justified: You’re on your last set of clean ‘clothes’
> As you glance yourself in the mirror, you sigh in shame.
> It’s little more than tattered rags.
“Well, it’s only temporary.” You assure yourself.
> You sling your satchel and rifle across your back before presenting yourself to the ponies.

> “Are you all set Anonymous?” Fluttershy timidly asks.
“Yep.”
> You turn to Rarity, who has already begun working on an outfit for you.
“Alright. I’ll be heading out.”
> Fluttershy leads you out the door.

> “Ah. Anon?” Rarity calls out.
“Yeah?”
> She gave you a stern look of disapproval and pulled you down to eye level.
“Please. Do be careful with that thing. It’s not a toy you know.”
> She gestures at the rifle slung across your back.
“Don’t worry! I’ll be fine!”
> “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

> You pause for a moment. Taken aback be her comment.
“The hell?”
> “Is it absolutely necessary for you to carry than thing around? I mean, after what you’ve told me about your kind I hardly can believe you can practice any sort of discipline.”
“Do you really have that little faith in me?”
> “It’s not you. It’s that thing!...It just doesn’t feel right having you carry that thing around Ponyville!”
“Does it really bother you that much?”
> “Well, Frankly. Yes.”

“Tch. Fine. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll leave it here with you.”
> “That’s an excellent idea. I’ll keep it nice and safe here. And I’ll make sure nopony lays their paws on it.”
> As you un-sling the rifle, you remove the magazine and engage the safety mechanisms.
> You toss it to her.
> She catches it with her hooves and nearly drops it due to its weight.
> “Gah! This thing weighs a ton!”
“Eh, you get used to it.”

> With her magic she stows it on a shelf far from anyone’s reach.
> Rarity returns to her work as you exit the room.

“Ah, Rarity!”
> “Yeees?”
> She responds without so much as looking up from her work.
“Please. Do be careful with that thing. It’s not a toy you know.”

---

> You finally make your way outside to a patiently waiting Fluttershy.
> She greets you with a toothy smile that simply melts your heart.
> As you make your way down the busy cobblestone road, you idly greet those that pass you by.
> Many ponies stop and ask you how your morning was, or how your time in Equestria has been so far.
> You make a mental note on how friendly the people are around here.

> Despite your alien stature, it appears they have already accepted you in your society.
> It even seems like you’ve gained a reputation as a gentle giant of sorts, for even little fillies run up to you to ask questions.
> Among them is Sweetie Belle, whom you promised to visit her clubhouse another day.

> Finally, you arrive at Ponyville’s Central Market.
> At first glance, it looks nearly identical to a busy farmer’s market.
> Ponies set up in various stalls lining the streets.
> As you make your way through the market you note the various artisans selling their handmade goods.

> The hustle and bustle of the market fills your ears.
> “Peaches! Get your fresh Peaches!”
> “Come get ya’ veggies here! Freshest produce in all of Equestria!”
> “Get ready for the coming winter with saddles! Half off! Today only!”
> You swear that in the commotion of the busy market you can hear Applejack advertising her apples.

> You catch Fluttershy staring at your gauntlets in awe.
> She’s not the only one to take note.
> As you pass by the merchant shops, they offer you special discounts or free product once they notice the Royal Insignia.
> Most of the time, you humbly decline their offers, and instead strike up a conversation with the shop keepers.
> Occasionally, even Fluttershy joins in on the conversations.
> However, more often than not her additions to the conversation are minute and seldom. Truly earning the name Flutter“SHY”

> Unfortunately, your time in the market it quickly spent.
> By the time you had left, you carried a satchel full of supplies and a picnic basket full of goods.
> All free of charge, of course.

> You internally debate on whether you could get other special benefits from your new title.
> All in all, you promise yourself to visit the local restaurants to see whether they give out any “royal treatment”.

> By now, you finally reached the beginning of the trail.
> It winds in between some of the forest surrounding Poyville.

> You trek down the forest path.
> It’s a tiring hike the crosses many hills.
> Most of the time, you run adjacent to a small brook.
> It’s soft running water is soothing and calms your nerves.
> Lucky for you, these boots are more than capable of handling this terrain.
> While they are a bit hot for this climate, you can’t complain otherwise.

> Occasionally during your hike you catch Fluttershy staring at you.
> Examining you.
> You can feel her curious stare over your body.
> Your physique and stature. The clothes you wear. The equipment you carry.
> It all must so alien to her.
> Occasionally she makes a motion as if to ask you a question, but always ends up stopping herself before she even starts.
> You sigh to yourself, and decide to take the initiative.

“Soo… Fluttershy?”
> “Hmm?!” she eagerly responds.
“Tell me about yourself. I know that Twilight is a student, Rarity is a tailor and Applejack is a farmer. So what do you do?”
> “I- I care for the local flora and fauna.”
“Oh, so you run a livestock farm?”
> “N-No. Not exactly.”
“So it’s a petting zoo?”
> “Err. No.”
“Then what?”
> “I take care of the local critters. Mostly the woodland creatures though.”
“Y-You take care of them? Like, you feed them and everything?”
> “Exactly!”
“…Wow. That’s gotta be the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”
> “W-What?! That’s weird?!”
“Well, yeah. Where I come from all the wild animals fend for themselves. Usually they hunt and gather their own food and live on their own accord. Hence the term ‘wild’ animals. I mean, isn’t it the same over here?”
> She shakes her head.
> “Oh heavens no! All the critters around these parts rely on me for food and shelter. I mean, if I don’t care for them, who will?”
“Well. That’s kinda odd. At least for me it is. Where I come from, the only animals we care for are pets and other domesticated breeds. You know, like dogs and cats. You guys have them here, right?”
> “Why of course! B-But I don’t like to think of them as pets. More like, little friends!”
“Riiiight.”

> As you make your way down the worn path, you continue chatting with her.
> Your conversations as stark as your differences.
> Finally, you can take note of her true personality as she opens up to you.
> A caring and kind soul.

> You exchange various stories and tales as you finish the hike.

> One story that you enjoyed hearing was of how she earned her cutie mark.
> The sheer concept of a cutie mark still intrigues you.

> She asked about your tattoo again.
> In turn you told her how you became shit-faced drunk and was given a tattoo against your will.
> You retold that fateful night as best you could; Careful to leave out any details about the war, of course.

> Time with company is spent quickly.
> And it’s not before long that you find yourself bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

> “We’d better head indoors. It’s getting pretty late.”
> Glancing around, you can see the dim light from Ponyville’s building on the horizon. You note that it’s quite a distance away, and you probably wouldn’t be able to make it back before sunset.
“But we’re pretty far from town. And I didn’t bring a flashlight with me.”
> “Oh no. That’s fine! You can stay with me for the night!”
“Y-You live out here?”
> “Yup!”

> With that, she leads you to a small clearing.
> A little cabin is situated smack dab in the middle of it.
> From here, it looks small and cozy.

“You live all the way out here?!”
> “Yup!”
“Don’t you think this is just a bit far from town?”
> “It might seem like a bit of a trek to you, but it’s nothing for a Pegasus like me.”
“Oh! Right.”

> As the Pegasus invites you inside, you take note of the various animals that live on the property.
> It almost looks like a farm here!
> Man, she wasn’t kidding!

> She leads you inside to her living room.
> The house is furnished with various pieces of mismatched wooden furniture.
> Most of it showing its age with wear and tear, however all of it looks to be handmade of quality woods.
> Photo’s of Fluttershy and her friends cover the walls.
> Bookshelves full of knick knacks and books line the walls as well.
> All in all, the home can be best described as a cozy place.

> She lights a few oil lit lamps that bathe the room in golden light.
> It’s a cool contrast to the cool blue moonlight that shines in from the windows.

> “Make yourself at home Anonymous!”
> There’s that word again.
> [spoiler] Home. [/spoiler]
> You smile softly as you fight to suppress tears.
“S-Sure.”
> Finding an empty spot on a couch, you plop down and stretch out your body.
> After a long day on your feet, a moment’s rest is pure bliss.

> “Are you comfortable?”
“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.”
> “Are you sure? You look a bit famished. Are you hungry Anonymous?”
“N-No. Not at all.”
> “Oh. Then are you thirsty? I’d be parched after a long day’s walk too.”
“No. I-I’m not thirsty. I’m fine, really!”
> “Is the temperature in the room alright? You know, if it’s too hot in here I can open up a window.”
“No no no! I’m fine, really I am. I’m just glad to be here.”
> “Oh. I just want to make sure you’re happy Anonymous… Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”
> You ponder it for a moment.
> Ultimately, you decide to humor her.
“Well, now that you mention it. It is a bit chilly in here. If I knew the Equestrian nights get this cold, I would have brought my snow gear!”
> “Oh! J-Just give me a second!”
> She runs to a different room for a moment before returning with a blanket and cup of tea in her hand.
> She then trots over to a fireplace on the far wall and starts it up.
> It’s warm heat filling the room instantly.
“T-Thanks Fluttershy.”
> “Now if there’s anything else I can do for you, please just let me know.” She says with a warm smile.
> You offer one in return.

> The tea has a bitter sweet taste to it.
> Fluttershy and you spend the night chatting away.
> She is curious to see what kinds of creatures inhabit your world.
> You explain with great detail.
> Telling her all about man’s dominance over the natural world.
> About domestication of hundreds of breeds of animals.

> You even tell her more about the horses from your world.
> Explaining the difference from Equestrian Ponies and normal livestock.
“…You see they are much taller than any pony I’ve seen so far. I think the closest one I’ve seen so far that even vaguely resembles them is Celestia. And even then, she is far too lanky.”
> Her eyes widen curiously.
“They’re not sentient, and are treated as such. In fact, where I come from humans are the only species on the planet that are sentient. Nothing else comes close! Heh, so you can just imagine my surprise when I come face to face with all of you.”
> You both let out hearty laughs.

> The conversation shifts.
> You tell more about the different people from your home.
> The cultures, the nations and past times.

> Again, you spend time answering all of her questions.

> It’s almost starting to get boring repeating yourself.
> Regardless, you keep a smile on your face as you answer them.

> The fireplace grows weak.
> Since the night started, you’ve nearly exhausted the supply of firewood.
> “Oh my.” Fluttershy gasps. “Looks like I need to get some more wood.”
> She begins to trot outside.
> You get up from your seat and begin to follow her.
> “No no no! You stay right here!”
“But don’t you need help?”
> “Oh no! You’re my guest! Please just take a seat! I’ll only be a moment.”
“Uh. O-Okay. Whatever you say.”
> She smiles cheerfully as she trots outside.

> You sit back on the couch and wait patiently.
> A small photo album sits on the coffee table nearby.
> Picking it up, flip through it.
> Photographs of Fluttershy and her friends fill the book to it’s brim.
> Finally, you can have a mental picture of all these stories the ponies have been telling you.
> Look! There’s a photo from when they went to the Grand Galloping Gala!
> And hey! There’s that picture of the Royal Wedding!
> It takes a while, but you finally finish the photo album cover to cover.

> Suddenly, you hear an ear piercing scream. Followed by the sounds of shattering glass.
> Quickly get up and make your way to the kitchen. The source of the sounds.
“Fluttershy?!” you shout.

> You step inside the kitchen.
> There you can see broken glass scattered across the floor in front of the door.

> You freeze in your tracks.
> The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

> Staring at the door, you can see a tall shadowy figure through the broken window.
> He sticks his hand through the window and opens the door from inside.
> As he steps inside, you get a good look at him.

> You couldn’t see him too well from outside, but now you are able to get a good glimpse at him.

> It’s a person.
> A man.

“No… No… No…” you mutter.
> Your voice begins to crack and you tremble in disbelief at the sight of him

> He is dressed head to toe in an Estovakian Officer’s Uniform.
> [spoiler] The enemy. [/spoiler]

> He stands in front of you.
> His expression is as full hate and anger.

> You double take to make sure what you’re seeing is right.

> But there he is.

> You’re sure of it.

“No… No! No! No!” you shout.
> He remains silent as he steps toward you.
“What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing here! No! No!”
> As he steps closer, you step back.
“Get the fuck out! Leave!”
> You trip over yourself as you step back, landing on your back.

> He pulls out a small knife from his belt and sprints towards you.
> His intention is nothing less of killing you.

> Quickly you stagger back on your feet and dodge his tackle.
> With his back turned you grapple his and slam him to the ground.
> He lands with a loud thud.

> Without so much as a second thought you start kicking him as hard as you can.
> Your boot lands right in his face, giving him a nasty bloody nose.
> He catches your foot with his arm and slashes it with his knife.
> A small gash is left in its wake.
“F-Fuck!”
> You clutch your leg in pain.
> He takes this opportunity to slam you against the floor.
“S-Shit!”
> You tumble against the wooden floor, as he pounces on top of you.

> He grabs you by the hair and slams your head against the floor.
> Then, he wastes no time slashing at you with his knife.

> He tries to stab you in the face, only for you to catch his wrist at the last moment.
> The two of you become dead locked in a struggle of strength.
> The tip of the blade only mere inches from your eye.
> Your eyes twitch uncontrollably due to a nervous reaction.
> With all your might, you miraculously push the blade away from your face.
> He staggers for a moment.

> Using this as your chance you clutch his neck around your hands.
> Wringing his neck like a wet towel.
> [spoiler] It felt….good. [/spoiler]
> Your nails dig deep into his skin, but not enough to pierce into it.

> His gasps for air was like music to your ears.
> Your joy was short lived though.
> In this moment, he grabbed the knife and dug it deep into your forearm.

> Your clothing offered little protection from the blade and tore apart instantly.
> A surge of pain like nothing you’ve ever felt before surges up your spine.
> He pulled out the blade, and when he did it felt as if the flow of blood in your arm reversed.

“F-Fuck!”
> He sliced again and again, tearing away at the flesh of your arm.

> Enough is enough.
> You clench your good arm into a fist and punch him as hard as you can.
> A solid “CRACK” could be heard once your fist made contact with his jaw.

> Keeping the momentum going, you tackled him into a bookshelf and onto the floor again.
> He is crouched on all fours, coughing up blood and wheezing for air.

> This is your chance.
> Using a vase from an end table, you smash it over his head.
> Glass shatters everywhere, and some of it becomes lodge in his skin.
> Quickly, he scatters to his feet and makes a dash for the exit.

“G-Get back here! Coward!”
> You stumble after him, but barely make it to the doorway before tripping over yourself.
> The combination of a concussion and blood loss make it very difficult to maneaver about.

> The Stovie has already made it outside.
> Him, like you, can only manage to stumble a few steps at a time before tripping to the ground.
> He heads to the edge of the property, into the woods.

> [spoiler] No. [/spoiler]
> [spoiler] You’re not letting him get away. [/spoiler]
> [spoiler] Not after what they’ve done to you. [/spoiler]

> Your blood comes to a boil, and you can feel a small surge of energy.
> Probably the adrenaline giving you one last push of energy.
> You put all of your focus into your body’s movement.
> And with that, you pursue him with a slow jog.

> You produce your revolver from its holster and disengage the safety.

> Your dominant hand is barely usable at this point.
> Right now, it’s enveloped in a strange warm and tingling sensation.
> You imagine once the adrenaline wears off, you’d feel the true pain.

> It’s difficult enough under these low light conditions, but you manage to find the bastard in your sights.
> Your grip is uneasy and unstable, but it’s your only shot.

> BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
> The gun shots could be heard for miles.
> Despite your best efforts, none of the shots hit it’s mark.

> And almost as quickly as he appeared, the Estovakian Solider vanishes in the darkness of the forest.

“No! No! No!”
> You shout at the top of your lungs.
“Come back, mother fucker! Came back and face me like a man!”
> In a fit of anger and misery you empty the rest of your shots into the woods.
> Aimlessly firing away at whatever moved.
“HEY! COME BACK! Y- YOU FUCKER!”
> Your words echo throughout the forest.
> Repeating back to you like some kind of cruel joke.
> You fall to your knees.
> Tears flow from your eyes as you struggle to suppress them.
“P-Please. Come back.”

> Your body trembles in misery.
> As the adrenaline starts to wear off, you feel the full brunt of your actions.
> Your head starts to throb in pain.
> Everything from your head to toe starts to ache.
> You can’t even move your arm, let alone feel it.
> The bleeding hasn’t stopped, and it doesn’t look like it will any time soon.
> You clutch at the wound, hoping that will stop the bleeding.
> Breathing becomes a labored task, as it feels like someone is snuffing the air out of you.

> You collapse onto the grassy ground and cry out in pain.

> Only then, do you shift your attention elsewhere.

> You muster up with little strength you have and walk towards the back yard.
“F-Fluttershy!”
…
“Fluttershyy!”
> Again, you’re met with nothing but silence.

“F-F-Fuck.”

> As your eyes adjust to the night, you can make our your surroundings clearer.
> You can see the silhouette of a small building.
> And upon focusing your hearing, you can hear someone whimpering from that same direction.

“F-Fluttershy?” you call out.
> As you near the chicken coop, it becomes apparent someone is hiding underneath.
“Fluttershy? You there?”
> You crouch down underneath to see her cowering in fear.
“H-Hey! Come on out! Please!”
> She only cowers further away.

“Come on! We gotta go!”
> She trembles in fear.
“Fluttershy! It’s not safe here!”
> You reach in for her.
> She panics and cowers away.
> In hysterics she lashes out at you, biting your hand.
“G-Gah! Fluttershy!”
> You grab her by the mane and pull her out.
> The entire time she is trashing about.
> “No! No! Stop! Please! Stop! No more! Please!”

> You’ve seen this before.
> Shell shock.
> When a person experiences a trauama so great, they lose it.
> Her eyes are ridden with fear.
> A sight your all too familiar with.

> You carry her with your one good arm, and the pistol in the other.
“W-We gotta go! It’s not safe out here!”

> It takes all your strength and perseverance, but you manage to carry her inside.
> You stumble back into the home and lock the door behind you.

> It’s then when you realize what a mess you’ve made.

> Furniture is scattered throughout the floor.
> Blood is pooled up into small puddles nearly every step.
> Glass is scattered across everywhere.
> It’s truly the fitting image of a bull in a china shop.

> Finally, your strength gives out.
> And you collapse with your back against a wall.

> Fluttershy has since calmed down for a moment.
> She’s lost in hysterics.
> Her weeping is far too familiar.

> Only then do you realize the cause of her state.
> AS you run your hand down her mane, you can feel thick lumps and bruises forming around her body.
> One of her wings seems oddly bent out of place.
> When you touch it, it twitches and she winces in pain.
“T-That fucker!”
> Your face grows red with anger.
> The sheer thought that an Estovakian can just prance in here and start the same shit enrages you.
“T-That motherfucker! He’s going to pay!”


“I-I-I-“
> Her words are jagged and stuttered.
> You can see the pain in her eyes as her broken wing twitches uncontrollably.
> “A-A-Anonnnn. W-What happpp-pennd?”

> You take one good look at her wing.
> You’ve been in this situation before.


> You hold her close to your chest.
“Listen to me Fluttershy? What I’m about to do is going to hurt. Y-You understand?”
> “W-W-What do you m-m-meean?”
“I gotta do this? Okay? It’ll only be a second!”
> You fumble inside one of your pockets and pull out a bullet from your revolver.
> You stuff it into her mouth between her jaw.
“B-Bite this? Okay? Whatever you do, don’t move. Okay?!”
> Before she has time to react, you grab her wing.
> She starts trashing about.
> You hold her steady and reinforce your grip.
> Slowly but surely, you pull her wing forward.
> All the meanwhile, she cries at the top of her lungs.
> You slowly maneuver the wing as best you can back into its proper socket.
> IT falls into place with a soft “POP”
> And soon afterwards, she retracts it to her body as normal.

> She’s in full blown histerics.
> As you hold her close to you, your blood stains all over her yellow coat.

> Off in the distance, you hear another glass pane shattering.

“N-No… Noo… No! No! No!”
> You pull Fluttershy close.
> Your revolver.
> You reach out for it and hold it with your weak arm.

> You whisper into her ear.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

> Your body has reached its limit.

> And you finally black out to the sound of her whimpers.