Chapters I've been having these weird dreams lately, seeing myself and a strange creature conversing in a garden somehow. I would chalk it up to mere delusions, but they felt so real , like I was actually there talking with that thing. I've been in this hellhole, labeled The Facility, for months now, expecting my execution at every waking moment. I think they're just trying to draw it out and mess with my mind, probably even get me to beg for death like a dog. Death doesn't scare me, though. In fact, I laugh at the face of death.
During my imprisonment here, I had become familiar with the two people that liked to make my life hell. Frederick Phillips, the head scientist in The Facility, and Daniel Reaves, the Captain of the Guard. The former was your run-of-the-mill nerd, only he'd created every torture device known to man. His little toys couldn't break me, though. Flesh and bone is superior to wiring and steel, after all. And Daniel, built like an ox and as strong as one too, was a worthy adversary, proven by the many scuffles we had gotten into. He only won a few times because of the obvious disadvantage - my fists against his baton wasn't exactly a fair fight.
But seriously, the drugs that kept me from breaking out of this place weren't the cause of my strange dreams, so it was probably my own demented mind doing so in order to cope with being imprisoned for so long.
I had been staring up at the ceiling for who-knows-how-long during what I assumed to be night on my cell bed. Sleep had eluded me, for the drugs that had been forcibly injected into my veins kept me awake and made my eyes more bloodshot that they usually were. Maybe if I just thought about something really intensely, I would just pass out or something. I focused on the creature from my dreams, trying to uncover its appearance with my mind. At that moment, searing pain shot through my body and I fell unconscious before I realised it had happened.
I appeared back in that familiar garden once more, seemingly in control this time. Everything was still blurred, but the creature was not. It was like somebody had stitched various parts of several animals to one body. A goat's head, an antler, a spirally horn, a feathery wing, a lion paw, an eagle claw and a dragon's talon were among the many thing this Franken-creature was made of.
"I see you've finally come to your senses," It said, earning a partially shocked reaction from me. "Though I suppose the lack of magic in your world made it harder for you to re-establish a connection to our little meetings."
My initial reaction was to produce a cutting remark complete with an amused chuckle, "What happened to you? Somebody throw you into a wood-chipper and shock you with electricity?"
He lost his smirk and looked insulted. "Why, I've never been so insulted in my existence! Your words cut me deeply, Mr Holiday!"
"I should hope so," I added. "Either I'm in a comatose state in my cell or I've finally gone insane. I honestly expected the latter to come much later." Then it hit me. "Wait, how do you know my name?"
His smile returned as he clicked his fingers and a couch popped into existence behind him. Another snap of his fingers produced a bag of popcorn and two glasses of brown liquid - I assumed it to be chocolate milk.
"Well, that's rather interesting, Mr Holiday. Can I call you that?" He asked, eyeing me.
"Michael is fine, no need to be all formal."
"Okay, Michael. I'm Discord, the resident God of Chaos. Ever since my petrification, I've been able to detect chaos in the neighbouring universes, and you , my friend, are the most chaotic human I've ever laid eyes on!" He gestured to the couch he was sitting on. "Would you like to sit down? It's quite a story."
I shrugged and, figuring it couldn't hurt, sat down next to him with the glass of chocolate milk in hand. I held it up to my face suspiciously, expecting something bad to happen once I drank it. For all I knew, it could've been laced with those fucking muscle relaxing drugs. After a few moments, I took a cautious sip of the brown liquid. Instead of what I thought was chocolate, I felt like I was drinking liquidized glass and began to cough furiously in order to spit it out.
"Got to admit, liquid glass is much more lethal than lacing the drink," I managed to wheeze out, spitting out a glob of reflective grey liquid. "Even if it's unorthodox as a killing method."
I glanced back at my glass, somehow still holding the same volume of chocolate milk with half the glass gone. Odd, even for a dream including this 'Discord' guy. I lobbed the glass at a statue of a winged horse. It flew through the air and struck the statue before exploding against it in a shower of glass and stone. Explosive chocolate milk, it seemed.
"Oh come on, it's not that bad," Discord said, feigning innocence before taking a sip himself and his face twisted into disgust. He threw the glass at the already demolished statue, reducing it to powder. “You’re right. That stuff is revolting.”
“Care to explain to me why you’re here, you know, in my dream?”
“Yes, what was I doing here again…” He muttered, idly spinning his lion paw as if in deep thought. “OH! I’m here to solve your whole imprisonment problem and solve my own problem at the same time.”
“The Facility isn’t something to sneeze at, buddy, even if you’re this self-proclaimed God of Chaos. One way in, one way out, five hundred guards and six prisoners, myself included.” I rubbed my eyes idly and picked out the crust forming into the corners of my eyes.
“I’m not helping you escape, my friend. At least, not directly. Since magic is near non-existent in your world for beings naturally able to use it, I’m going to exploit a loophole.” He grabbed my wrist with his paw, yanking it over where he could see it properly. “Like so.”
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” I asked dangerously in a quiet manner, trying to retrieve my hand from his grasp.
“Just stay still so I don’t muddy this up,” He replied, encompassing my hand and wrist with his own paw.
Searing pain, similar to when I passed out, spread through my wrist and hand and bright light glowed from between his paw and my hand. I tried not to struggle and screw up whatever he was doing. After a few intense moments, the pain stopped and the glowing subsided.
I took my hand back and saw a new addition to the top of my hand. A white segmented circle with short arrows, apart from the bottom arrow that was longer than the others, pointed from every direction had been emblazoned on my hand. A tattoo, maybe some kind of brand?
"You gave me a tattoo. How does this help?" I asked bitterly, staring at the mark on my hand.
"That isn't a tattoo, my dear friend. That, right there, is a Mark of Chaos." He said, as if saying only that explained everything.
"Meaning?"
"Well, like I said earlier, beings able to naturally use magic aren't able to do so in your world. WHich is why I've given you your very own Mark of Chaos, which when imprinted on a magic-less being allows that being to use a sort of pseudo-magic. Very ingenious, if I do say so myself." He looked proud of himself until I rained on his parade with yet another clever remark.
"If by 'pseudo-magic', you mean parlor tricks and illusions, it isn't going to help very much against guards armed with tasers and assault rifles."
"You're a real downer, you know that?" He said with brutal honesty.
"I'm not really the optimistic type, so yes. Yes I am."
Discord put his paw to his face, muttering something about 'putting up with me' and 'it'll all pay of eventually' before looking at me once more, his ever-present grin materialising.
“You never actually told me why you’re here or why you’re helping me, Discord. So, start talking.” I said with finality, crossing my arms while staring at him warily.
“I made a bet with some friends that I’d be able to take over Equestria without being petrified again. And that’s where you come in, my friend. You’re the most chaotic being to exist that I’ve seen, and I thought that I could use some assistance in usurping the throne.” He said candidly. “You see, some ancient relics called the Elements of Harmony are the bane of anyone that tries to have some good, old-fashioned, chaotic fun. And since you’re not from Equestria, that renders the Elements useless should you be caught.”
“So you’re my contractor, in a way?”
“Yes, when you put it that way.” He glanced over his shoulder, spotting something that I couldn’t. “Alright, the Princesses are in the garden. If I so much as give off a twinge of magic, they’ll put the spell restrictors on again. I’ll see you soon!”
He shoved me forcefully off the couch and I woke up back in The Facility in cold sweats, panting heavily from the sudden ejection. I glanced at my left hand, making out the Mark that Discord had given me. So it was real and not just my mind coping with solitary confinement.
“What happened, cupcake? Have a nightmare?” Someone familiar sneered.
I looked up and I saw him. It was Daniel Reaves, the Guard Captain. A cocky grin was on his smarmy face. Something had him obviously excited, like it was his birthday or something more twisted in mind.
“What do you want, Reaves?” I asked bitterly, getting up from the bed and standing in front of the bars that separated me from the outside world.
“Wouldn’t want to be late for your own execution now, would you?” He unlocked the cell door with a cruel, twisted smile with his taser in hand. “Come on.”
“There’s no need for that,” I gestured to the taser, stepping out of the cell. “I’ll go quietly.”
He chuckled, nudging me with the barrel of the weapon as I walked down the hallway. “I’m sure you will.”
I gave my regards to the other five prisoners when I passed by their cells. Guards were giving me death glares as I passed by them, which I returned with a look of indifference. I felt the Mark of Chaos pulse intensely. I took a deep breath and spun on my heel, taking Daniel by surprise. He raised the weapon and I seized the barrel, wrenching it away from his grasp. My fist slammed into his gut and he exhaled sharply, trying to breathe as he fell over. I seized the M1911 handgun from his holster and quickly gunned down the two guards in the immediate area.
With the taser and the M1911 in my hands, I darted down the hallway toward the testing field and disposed of any people foolish enough to get in my way. The corpses of several guards littered the doorway to the field and fell into a pile as I exited the building and went outside into the yard. I backed up into the yard, firing several rounds into the mass of incoming guards. Automatic gunfire filled my ears from behind me. I turned around and saw a scientist clutching an M16A4 carbine, the latter aimed in my direction. I put a bullet in his head and cast away my weapons, cartwheeling backward and picking up the carbine. Four more guards poured through the door, only to be cut down by a volley of three-shot bursts from my weapon.
Bullets streaked past my head, diverting my attention to the plethora of guards approaching from the other side of the field. I considered taking them down right now while I had the advantage in weaponry, but the risk of being swarmed stopped me from doing so. I retreated back into the compound past the cells with guards on my tail and ascended into the upper levels. Two guards ran by on the catwalk, unable to see me because of my spectacular hiding spot. Once the clanking of their boots hitting the metal of the catwalk faded from earshot, I peeked out from my hiding spot and cautiously moved all the wall.
I heard people talking from one of the rooms and said, “A sound. Close by.”
I flung open one of the doors and found four scientists casually going about their day like there wasn’t a criminal with a machine gun, like myself, running about. I felt my Mark pulse again and I was suddenly hearing the thoughts of the people in the room.
Oh my god, Thought the first man, who was standing near the microwave.
Sometimes I never wish I left my room, Thought another, lowering the book from his face.
OH MY GOD, I’M A DEAD MAN! The third man practically screamed in his mind and caused me to wince a little from the volume in his voice.
Ugh, I’m gonna have to change my underwear, Thought the last one, who sounded a little like an elderly man.
“Left for death. They’re all gone,” I said ominously, raising my rifle and letting loose a volley of accurate, three-shot bursts.
The scientists barely had time to react. Splatters of blood painted the walls and floor as they fell down dead, drowning in pools of their own blood. I walked out of the room and continued to traverse the catwalk for a few minutes as to lose any possible pursuers. A metal arm smashed through the wall just in front of me, so I slid under it and levelled my rifle with the protruding appendage. After a few intense moments, the robotic arm disappeared from sight.
“I see you,” I said quietly right before another wall smashed in behind me.
I jabbed my weapon backward, striking something sturdy with the stock of my weapon. The machine jolted from the sudden strike, allowing me to whirl around in time to level my weapon with its head.
“You were taught well,” It said in a monotonous voice.
It tried to rush forward but the volley of rounds that had penetrated its skull caused it to lurch on its feet, crashing into the ground in an unceremonious heap. I put another three rounds into the head to make sure it stayed down.
“Now, where’s that armoury at?” I muttered to myself, leaving the malfunction MP-WARBOT down on the floor as I left for the prison’s armoury.
After countless minutes of wandering, I had found the armoury and promptly broke in. My face lit up like a kid in a candy store. All sorts of weapons were displayed in racks, cases and boxes. I picked out an AK-47, a Glock 17, a ballistic vest and plenty of ammunition for both weapons. By this time, the Mark of Chaos was acting up pretty badly.
My hand began glowing brightly, bathed in a blue aura, as did the Mark. I pointed my outstretched hand at the concrete wall, a bolt of blue energy rushing forth and striking the wall. The bolt opened an opaque, swirling rift on the wall. I heard shouting from outside the armoury. Someone must’ve heard the racket. Without a second thought, I charged through the rift and tumbled onto grass.
Whoa. Teleportation? Seriously impressed, Discord.
Multiple bodily sensations hit me at once. My stomach was churning like one who had ridden a rollercoaster right after eating, and my energy was suddenly sapped from the teleportation as well as an immediate dimming of the light glowing from my Mark. Perhaps the brightness of the light was directly tied to my physical energy and my newfound ‘magical’ energy.
Of course, first things first. I reeled over and emptied the contents of my stomach (terrible prison food mind you) onto the grass. God, it was like they hardly tried to mask the taste of poison in that unrecognisable slop they called ‘food’.
“Uh, sir, we have a situation here,” A deep, commanding voice, much like Daniel’s, said out of nowhere.
“What is it, soldier?” Another one said.
“That thing that just teleported into the gardens and puked onto the grass,” The first voice said, probably pointing toward me if his description was spot-on. “There’s also a strange marking on its left foreleg.”
Foreleg? What am I, a horse?
I turned around and what I saw shocked me, though I didn’t physically show it. Two white equines dressed in gilded Romanesque armour were staring at me, watching my every move. I strapped my AK-47 to my back and approached the two. Their gaze followed my featureless face, save for my bloodshot eyes staring into their very souls.
“Would you two gentlemen kindly tell me where I am, or are you going to stare at me like I’m some kind of freak-of-nature until I leave to find more competent equines?” I asked very calmly, despite my situation. Discord never mentioned talking equines before, so I was going to give him a piece of my mind when I saw him again.
The first one looked to the second for guidance. The other one just stared at his companion as if to say, “What do you expect me to say?”
While they were mentally breaking down, I walked past them and pushed open a door leading inside wherever I was. I was greeted with medieval architecture, something more refreshing than the grey walls of The Facility. A stained glass window depicting several multicoloured ponies blasting a demonic-like pony with a rainbow beam greeted me as I strolled along the hall.
Ah, I see you made it. Discord’s voice rang in my head. And at the palace, too! It’s always good to be ahead of schedule.
“When were you planning to tell me that Equestria is populated by ponies, technicolour ones at that?” I asked aloud.
That may have slipped my mind at the time. All that matters is you didn’t get mangled by the teleportation process.
“Wait, mangled?! You mean I could’ve been killed?!” I seethed loud enough for my voice to echo off the walls.
Yes, that was a concern at one point. Most creatures that are dimensionally relocated often succumb to mana burns or grievous physical injuries.
“When I get my hands on you, you son of a bitch, I’m gonna throttle you so fucking hard!"
Yes, I’m sure you will. You might want to stop talking now, other ponies might think you’re a lunatic. More so than you already are.
I didn’t respond and was about to wander about the hall when a real-life version of that winged unicorn statue in the garden was staring right at me with a puzzled look on her face. God, she probably heard me talking to myself. I followed her gaze to the Mark of Chaos on my hand, immediately hiding it behind my back like any suspicious person would.
“What art thou, strange creature?” It asked in a female voice, also speaking like it was from the Middle Ages. “And what art thou doing in the Hall of the Elements?”
Here’s a random fact for you people out there: The most convincing lies are the ones that aren’t really lies at all.
“Truth is,” I began. “I’m sort of lost.”
Hopefully she was gullible enough to believe my enigmatic lie. If not, my extensive training in several martial arts, even the ancient fighting styles of the Order Empire, and firearms should be able to aid me against such a foe. Maybe the Mark would work in my favour, too, if I knew how to properly control it.
“Lost? But thou art in Canterlot Castle, not out in the wilderness. Surely thou would knoweth thy way around Canterlot?”
“Not in the local sense of the word, I’m afraid. I’m saying that I was thrown through a portal in my world and into yours. I’m not native to this place, kapiche?” I gestured wildly, trying to get the point through her thick skull.
I had bolted back through the door I came through, making sure not to alert the guards I passed by earlier. They were gone when I checked, probably off to warn another pony. I wouldn’t give them that chance.
Yes, enough with the first encounters. Just get to my statue already. Discord piped up from the back of my mind as I sprinted through the garden, passing by several statues of important-looking ponies on the way.
“You’d think a Frankenstein-esque person like you would stick out like a sore thumb…” I muttered, aimed at Discord. “Running around looking for a dead ringer statue of you is proving to be a misuse of my energy.”
Oh, stop complaining. You’re almost there, anyway. Also, what’s with these rather rude remarks about my appearance. Do I mock you about how you look?
“No, I just happen to be an asshole that insults people whenever I get the chance. You’ve should’ve read the fine print before making a deal with the devil, buddy.” I chuckled morbidly.
“You there, halt!” A familiar voice shouted, causing me to huff out of irritation. “In the name of Celestia, stop right there!”
“Can’t these people take a fucking hint that I want to be left alone in peace while I free this God of Chaos from his stone prison?” I questioned, only I had said it to myself instead of out loud in fear of blowing my cover.
Now you see why I needed your help. Everyone is opposed to the idea of spontaneousness and chaos, seeing it as taboo. As if your ego was inflated enough, you’re basically my human counterpart, only significantly less powerful.
Doesn’t mean we have to be all buddy-buddy around each other, I reasoned.
I spun on my heel and saw five more of those guards, now armed with spears, not far from my position. It looked like they were looking for a fight more than anything right now.
“This is a waste of my time and a misuse of my energy. What do you want?” I asked coldly, stopping just a few feet away from the lead guard. “And this time, try not to break down into a mental fit like your comrades and actually say something instead of gawking at me like an idiot.”
I heard mutterings from some of the guards in the rear along the lines of ‘it can talk?’. I ignored them and looked at the leader expectantly, his bright blue eyes matching my bloodshot gaze. It felt like hours passed during this pointless staring contest.
Then, as if to break the intense staredown, he shuddered briefly. It wasn’t cold, so he must’ve dug deep enough for him to work out the hatred, malice and the lack of remorse hidden behind my eyes. I smiled evilly, reminiscing the helpless screams of my victims over and over to the point that it almost drove me to produce a maniacal laugh. Almost being the keyword.
“You are to stand down and relinquish your devices so that we may escort you back to Princess Luna. If you do not comply, I will use lethal force.” He said threateningly, quickly regaining his stoic posture.
Instead of responding, I focused on something and the Mark of Chaos began to glow once more until several items flashed into existence on my person. A spear in my hand, a Greek hoplon strapped to my arm, a blood-red cape on my back fluttered in the breeze and a Spearton helmet appeared on my head. I was pretty sure I looked menacing enough, but I had the combat prowess to prove myself worthy of my new attire. It was once said that Ares, the Greek God of War, personally trained the Speartons and taught them the art of war, making them unstoppable machines of death.
“You obviously have no idea who I am, or what I am capable of,” I growled at them with renewed anger and pride, as if I was directly channelling one of the Speartons from ancient times just by having his equipment. “You see, I was born to die, but not before my enemies. And now you shall know a world of pain and suffering beyond your petty imaginations.”
Whoa, going a little overboard with the cosplay, aren’t we? You’re not actually one of these ‘Spearton’ guys, just a lunatic pretending to be one.
I ignored Discord’s comment and charged forward with my spear and shield raised. The gold-clad guards reacted quickly, assuming defensive stances. The heads of their spears barely scratched my shield as I got within lunging distance. Quarrels embedded themselves into my shield as some of the other guards sprung skyward, firing off shots from their crossbows. They were cowards for resorting to such underhanded tactics. Real warriors, human or not, fought with blades and shields, not crossbows and magic. No matter, all would fall to my spear sooner or later.
Assuming the Princesses don’t come out and hand you your ass on a platter by that time. And they most likely will.
Once again ignoring the Chaos God’s snide comment, I narrowly evaded a swipe from the leader’s spear. I raised my shield once more and threw my shoulder into it as I charged right into the unsuspecting guard, effectively sending him sprawling across the grass. I ran over before he could recuperate and plunged my spear into his exposed stomach. A gush of blood spurted from the wound and painted his pale fur with a shade of red as it trickled down. I seized the guard’s own spear and pitched it like a javelin at one of the airborne guards, who was loading another quarrel into his crossbow. The spear streaked through the open air and skewered the unaware Pegasus like a pig. He dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks and flopped over in his death spasms. I retrieved my own spear from the guard underneath me and fended off another flurry of quarrels from the airborne guards.
My shield was getting noticeably heavy from the abundance of bolts protruding from its surface. Soon it would be too cumbersome to properly use in a stand-up fight. One of the archers managed to get behind me and put a quarrel through my shin. I dropped to a knee and cried out in pain, dropping my bolt-ridden shield and my blood-soaked spear with it. Agony shot through my leg -- it was much worse than a gunshot -- and the remaining guards dropped to the ground to subdue me. I refused to let them shackle me, but the risk of losing too much blood and the fact that my leg’s condition could get worse stopped me from picking my spear back up and slaughtering them all.
“Quickly, get the cuffs on it,” Said one of the archers, warily keeping his distance with his crossbow trained on me.
Once again I felt sapped of my energy and my Spearton equipment dissolved into nothing, leaving me with only the bleeding quarrel wound in my shin. With a quick glance towards my hand, my Mark of Chaos was duller in colour than before. Instead of white, it was now a dark grey. My vision blurred and was lost completely when I felt something blunt smash against my skull, rendering me unconscious.
“But sister, the creature may merely be threatened. If thou were thrown from Equestria, would thou not be scared and intimidated toward what is not thy own land?” The voice belonging to that blue pony from before pleaded, with desperation in her voice.
“Why do you insist on defending this creature, Luna? It killed two of my guardsmen before falling to a single quarrel in its leg. What Outsider immediately resorts to killing when faced with authority? Riddle me that,” Another voice, sounding slightly older and angrier, retorted with what I assumed to be tranquil fury. “And the scholars in the Magi Tower found that mark on its foreleg to be one of a chaotic nature. Must I go on, dear sister?”
“That proves nothing! For all we know, it could be simply brainwashed by Discord to do his evil bidding!” Said Luna, fiery passion in her voice. It sounded like she was sticking to her guns with the whole ‘strange creature is misunderstood’ theory. “Discord could’ve taken this poor soul and twisted its mind unto oblivion where it only knew pain and suffering. Are we to condemn it for what it did not possibly want to do?”
“Luna, there is no known procedure to simply remove a Mark of Chaos. Twisted mind or not, it is still a threat to you, me and my little ponies.”
“And we are to believe that thy word is final? That we are to simply dispose of an innocent and deliver an unfulfilled soul unto Death just because you say so? Just give us time with the Outsider, and let us see if we cannot return it to its unaltered state of mind. That is all we ask, sister.”
Luna’s sister sighed in exasperation, then replied with, “Fine. Do what you think is best. But if I see it lash out again, I will not hesitate to do what I must to protect Equestria from a possible threat.”
Luna’s voice became level, but I detected giddiness in her tone. “Very well. I shall start immediately. Guardsman, open the cell door.”
The clopping of hooves moving further away told me that Luna’s sister was departing. Good, she sounded like a Grade A bitch. My eyes were heavy, but they failed to open at this exact moment. Something in front of me clicked and the door creaked open, followed by the light clopping of what I assumed to be Luna’s hooves getting closer.
“This Outsider’s appearance is very strange. Almost as if a foal drew a crude stick-like creature and suddenly was given a three-dimensional form,” I felt something cold lightly jab me in the stomach, causing me to shiver involuntarily. “There is no possible way of fitting the required amount of internal organs into such a thin frame. Perhaps it is the norm of its culture. And its head is so perfectly spherical, it’s almost unnerving.” Her voice dropped to a mutter, but I could still hear her talking to herself. “No Luna, you must’ve go judging how Outsiders look. Not all of them may be ponies. What if you were to end up on a realm that wasn’t your own. Everypony else would have the same amount of caution when dealing with something they don’t know about.”
My eyes creaked open, spotting Luna gazing solemnly off to the side. I cleared my throat and spoke up.
“If you keep talking to yourself, love, people are going to think you’re a nutcase.” Her gaze slowly rotated back to me, her deep blue eyes meeting my own bloodshot eyes. “Or at least, that’s the theory. The real problem is when you have an argument with yourself and lose .”
Then her face gained confusion. “How does one lose an argument with themselves?”
“With great difficulty if you’re sane, I assure you.” I replied, looking down at my hands. “Though if you’re a real psycho, it’s pretty easy.”
Like I had expected, I was handcuffed, not with regular cuffs but with purple glowing ones. It looked like a Lantern’s doing, but I doubted a Purple Lantern existed. I looked back up at Luna, who looked at me with intense curiosity.
“I assume thou knoweth of thy act in the Royal Gardens?” I shook my head, feigning innocence. If I was to free Discord, I needed to gain the trust of the good guys and stab them in the back when I’ve achieved my goal. “Really? Did Discord give you amnesia as well as force you to commit horrendous crimes?”
“What’s a Discord? Crimes? I didn’t kill anyone, did I?” I asked frantically, testing my luck to see if she was gullible enough to believe me yet again.
She sighed, possibly out of pity. “Discord is a ‘who’, not a ‘what’. He is the resident God of Chaos, a trickster-turned-villain by the hoof of fate. While it seems you were ripped from your own realm, Discord entered your mind and made you kill a guardsman and grievously injure another. All the while equipped with a Spartan Stallion’s weaponry and armour.”
I mentally kicked myself. I only injured the guard I stabbed in the gut, and I didn’t even double-tap to make sure he was dead. A sloppy job if there ever was one.
“Well, I remember some kind of creature grabbing me by the arm and dragging me through a portal of some sort. Then I puked because of motion sickness, and it’s all blank from there,” I lied.
“Yes, that would be the case. I am Princess Luna of Equestria, Outsider. What is your name?”
“Michael Holiday. Just call me Michael.” I lifted my shackled hands up, offering my hand out to Luna.
Author's Note
The plot thickens, it seems. The over-trusting, misunderstood Princess of the Night is trying to make friends with Michael. I'm sure he'll make her life hell.
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