Death wasn't a fitting fate for this noble warrior. He deserves peace better than that. He saved not only his people, but other races as well. Interfering with his fate is the job of a weaver, but who am I talking about? Of course it's Zeratul.

Whoever said that "Love is Young" was right all along. There is no gender, no social status, no dimensions, no time..., infact, there are no boundaries for love. And this fanfiction is going to be a living proof of it.

This story could be considered as a prequel to my OC in the story of "The Misfits" by Cyber System, narrating his childhood and exile altogether.

What does a hero truly need? Money or friendship?

If you think that the world around you is all rainbows and sunshine, then think again because 'they' shall make sure that 'they' are the last thing you see.

If you believe that Equestria is a peaceful country, then prepare to be proven wrong.

I am a bad writer because English isn't my native language and this is my first MLP/TF2 Crossover.