Reloaded: Prologue

Long ago, in ancient time, before the birth of the Celestial Sisters. Before the Three Tribe, the Gryphon Empire, the Dragon Hoards, the Minotaur Clans, before any known land, nation, or species we know today, existed four mysterious kingdom. They currently known, by modern archaeologists and historians, as the

The Arians: Ancient master of the sky and rulers of the heaven. Known during their time as the fastest being alive and as well as the most skill marksponies with bows.

Fotia Maatau: Guardians of the molten earth and knights of leveled-lands. Known as the master of heavy weaponry and volcanic eruptions.

Cee'la Seera Vatnarn: Keepers of the oceans and champions of patience. Known as the commanders of stealth and assassination for their ways were incoherent to all.

Falloin Stella: Cheaters of the world. Known to be hated amongst the other. Fakers and builders of alluring knowledge for they were never gifted like the other, but stole to reach the top.

These four ancient empire fought amongst each other, yet protected one another. The reason for this remains unknown. They rule the archaic world, with unbelievable might and power, until one day they disappeared. Their history gone, their architecture said to surpass any and all modern building lost and forgotten to the soil on which they stood. Their way of life forgotten, their very existence faded into myth. Nopony knows what exactly happened to these once great empires. Some say war, other say famine, more say disease, but few say it was another ancient empires that consisted of Alicorn. That wipe the others to extinction and then mysteriously vanished. Although no hard proof or evidence has been found to prove of such an empire ever existed, the same could be said to the other empires of old. If it weren't for a few small relics that have unknown origins and written documents. Though both contains little to no information on these four empire, it only adds more to the mystery of their existe-

"SWEETIE BELLE!"

Planet: Phylum Gaia
Location: On board the Friendship Express
Destination: Baltimare Train Station
Date: June 8, C.R. 1006

"SWEETIE BELLE!" Shouted a light brilliant gamboge coated pegasus, with a moderate cerise mane and tail. Wearing a light brown cargo shorts, a tan tang-top, and a pair of worn out forest green sneakers.

"Ahhhh!" Yelped a light grey unicorn, falling from her seat and dropping a book she was reading. Her mane and tail consist of two colors, a grayish mulberry for the main color with a pale light gray rose streaks running here and there. The pony in question is wearing a pale white sundress, a pair beach sandals for her hooves, and a yellow-brown sunhat. She looks over to the pony who scared her from her seat. "What do you want Scootaloo?" Groaned the fallen unicorn, annoyed that she fell and drop book on the ground.

"Dunno, just curious on what you're reading." She replied. Placing both of her hands on the back of her head.

"Scootaloo, didn't Sweetie already tell ya before we got on this here train?" Said a southern sounding pony, standing in front of her two friends. She's a light yellow earth pony, with a brilliant amaranth mane and tail. On the back of her head is a light pink bow.

"Yeah, Apple Bloom right! Didn't I already tell you Scoots." She added, reinforcing the pony call Apple Bloom.

"You did, but I'm just so bored!" Said Scootaloo.

"Then why, didn't ya bring a book o' something to read?" Questioned Apple Bloom.

"Because, book are so boring and none of them were any cool." She whined.

"Ugh, whatever." Said Apple Bloom, returning to her seat.

"So...are you going to tell me or what?" Asked the pegasus.

"Arg, fine." An annoyed Sweetie Belle got off the floor and reach out the book next to her. Straightening out her dress and grabbing the fallen book. She starts by asking, "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"What's the name of the book?" She said.

"It called, The Myth of the Four Lost Empires. "

"It's a history book then?" Asked Scootaloo.

"No, it more like a mythology/fantasy/history book telling of an age-old tale of four lost empires. They're alleged to be about 500,000 years older than the earliest nomadic pony." She hand the book over to Scootaloo, who skims through the content of the book. She doesn't take long to reach the end of the book.

"It's pretty short." Handing the book back to Sweetie, Scootaloo reaches into her pocket to take out a stick of gum.

"Well...not much is really know of them." Replied Sweetie, as Scootaloo chews the stick of gum into her mouth. "They're considered more of a myth than anything."

"Why?" Questioned Scootaloo.

"Well, there isn't much information on these old empires, other then small relics and bits of information." Sweetie answered.

Giving her friend a question look, she asks, "Wait if there are artifacts and info about them, then why are they consider a myth?"

"That a good question." Sweetie puts her hand under her chin thinking of an answer. "The information seen in this book comes from other old civilization, like the Three Pony Tribes or the Minotaur Nomads. Most of it is folktale music and there's very little written material referring to them. Though all of knowledge about them indicate that the ancient civilization, at that time, believed they were gods that save the mortal realm from a terrible catastrophe. Of what nopony knows, and regarding the relics several unidentifiable artifact have been found across the world."

"Where?" Asked Scootaloo.

"Most were found by accident by random ponies."

"Couldn't some scientist or architect, I don't know, asks the the pony in question to where they found it?" Seemly stump at that.

"Scootaloo, most findings were way too long ago, so the ponies who found died already." Sweetie changes her attention from her friend to the book. "Also they did, but most said they bought off street vendors and gypsies."

"Huh." Scootaloo said as she went back to seat. Sweetie went back to her seat as well and open the book to the last she was on before her friend interrupted her. She continues to read during the remainder of the trip.

Planet: Sera
Location: Unknown forest
Destination: Three kilometers from an abandon COG installation
Date: Heat 8th, 16 A.E.

"Chris!"

No replies.

"Chris!"

Still nothing.

"Goddamn, Chris answer!" Said an irked voice in frustration, before switching frequencies to contact the others. "Hell, even the Fagual voice is better then this silent bullshit!"

"Martin for the last time, stop calling me that." Said an annoyed voice over the Tac-Com. "It's Raul, not Fagaul, you homophobic bitch."

Ignoring the one called Raul plea/insult, Martin replies, "Finally one of you asshole answer."

"What do you need?" Entered a new voice over the Tac-Com.

"Chris," said Martin with displeasure from the ignorance he got from him, causing him to places a finger closer to the Lancer trigger. A visible vein appear on his neck as the blood flows to his head. Anger taking its rightful course in his mind, gives Martin the urge to strangle Chris with his own insides, feasting on the dying teen flesh, but sets aside the desire for the mutual benefit they share to one another. "I need a sit-rep of yours and Rachael current info on the abandon military installation."

"Dick!" Said Raul for being called Rachael.

Chris intervenes to stop the upcoming confrontation, "There are neither Locusts, Lambent Stalks, nor Stranded present at the building. From what I could tell it seems safe to enter."

"Hopefully, there's ammo for the Markza in there." Said Raul, knowing that if they didn't find ammo soon he'll be force to leave the Markza when they found another weapon.

"Hopefully your right, Raul," says Chris, "we're been low on ammo for a few weeks now."

"Or a gay porno mag for the faggot." Said Martin pushing Raul limits for shits and giggles.

"Fuck off!" Whispered angrily Raul, precautions of making sure to no one could hear them. Causes Martin to release a small hollow laugh. Taking his hand off the comm, Martin reaches for a pouch on his left hip to take out a half empty flask. Filled with crappy tasting Moonshine, Martin takes a swig of the offending alcoholic beverage. The foul taste and the burning sensation running down his dry throat, would cause any other to cough or even choke, but not Martin. He was to use to this burning sensation and foul taste. He's used to a lot of thing that hurts.

"Ahhh!" He sighs with shallow happiness. Putting the flask back into the pouch, Martin places his left hand on to the Tac-Com to relay a new set of order, but before he could a new comm opens interfering.

"Hey if there are gay porno mag for Raul, then think there maybe any magazines with some nice big titty women with well rounded asses." The another voice sounded a bit on the cheery side for that.

"Stop calling me gay, you jackasses." Responded Raul in a hushed, but fueled rage anger voice, for being call a gay for like the billionth time.

"Only, you Dave would want to find something as useless as Brumak shit." Martin retorted in disgust. Checking his Lancer to see if anything is at an amiss again, before opening a comm to complimenting Dave insult. "Also nice one, you perverted Monkey."

"Thanks! And as true as that may be, a man got his needs." Countered Dave. "Besides you can't yank one off to shit no matter how hard you try."

"That just disturbing to hear, let alone imagine." Said Raul trying his hardest to not to vomit his lunch from three weeks ago of the terrifying image.

"A-agreed." Added Chris, trying to keep himself composed over the comms, but his voice betrayed him the moment he stuttered.

Martin usually not caring when he or the others abuse the Tac-Com links, would get annoyed by their or his own bickering, but could deal with it. Hell, he would careless about their health or well-being, let alone his own. If they slowed him down or were injured, he'd most likely leave them behind to rot like the others before if it weren't for the fact they needed each other. Martin usually never intervenes unless they're doing something very important or when he finally get fed-up with it. Always being the cold hollow human he is, he'll rarely talk to the other with a voice that carries little emotions enough to catch their attentions.

"Okay enough fucking around we're losing daylight here." Martin voice cold, serious, and venomous. "Also, is just me or is anyone else feels the wind picking up speed?"

Immediately Chris responded, "Now that you mention it, I've notice the wind is blowing stronger then it was four minutes ago." Chris knowing that something bad was going about to happen to them. "The Longshot auto-adjust-windage knob is constantly adjusting to because of the increase of the wind velocity."

"Same here...just without the auto-adjust-windage knob." Sheepishly added Raul.

"So, what." Said Dave, possibly not knowing the implication of the increase of wind velocity. "A little draft never killed anyone."

"Well, maybe not a draft," Martin said, "but a hail-gale definitely has." This causes everyone to go silent on the comms for a few seconds.

...

...

...

"WHAT?"

"SHIT!"

"SERIOUSLY!"

"I know, I know." Martin said not caring for their panicking states.

"How long?" Asked Chris getting straight to the point. "How long do we have until it reaches it max?"

"From how long it took the wind to gain their current level of speed and how fast the temperature is dropping , I'll estimate about thirty or so minutes before it reaches it apex." Martin states. Looking back to abandon building, seeing how the building looked in relatively good enough to withstand the upcoming storm. "Guys rendezvous to my position."

"Roger." Said Chris.

"On my way." Said Raul.

"Where was that again?" Asked Dave.

"Where we first found the clearing with a decent view of the place we were going to ransack in a few minutes ago." Sighed Martin at his acquaintance intelligence.

"Oh yeah." Said Dave.

"Martin, you said we got thirty minutes right?" Curiously asked Chris.

"Give or take, but yeah." Replied Martin.

"Set up any earlier alert wire or something?" Asked Chris.

"Yeah, a few alert wire for you and the fag." Stated Martin.

"It better not b-"

"WILL YOU STOP CALLING ME GAY!!!" Raul in intruded, preventing Chris from finishing his sentence.

"Don't cry yourself a river," Martin inferred to Raul. "Also, no. Didn't use any of yours Chris."

"Good." Said Chris.

"Okay enough bumbling around, get your asses over here." Commanded Martin.

After a few minutes passes by, everyone eventually gather at the clearing. Raul being the first to arrive, then Chris and finally Dave.

The four faces of stranded teenagers should show young men with youthful faces and bright eyes, yet they present a different tale. Each of their faces lack the youthfulness and innocent, children at their age should have, that has long since been ripped away and replaced with something worse. Faces riddled with bullets marks, burnt skin, cuts and permanent deformities. Eyes that expresses coldness and hatred towards the world and themselves. All of them lacking the basics of humanity and existing as a former shell of themselves. Each carry a story of terror and pain, yet they looks unaffected by it all.

Martin, the most scarred, garbs a stick from the ground and begins to draw out their plan. "Okay guys, me and the Monkey are the first to head out." Looking over to Chris and Raul, "The both of you, provide sniper fire encase something come from our backs. Once we reach the building we'll look for an acceptable entrance, if there isn't an entrance, we'll make one. Got it." Then looks over to Dave.

"Got it." Repeated Dave.

"Good." Martin drops the stick heading to a nearby bush to pullout a military grade duffel bag, a badly damage and aged duffel bag, but a useful duffel bag nonetheless. Which Martin has so gracefully dubbed the Man Purse. Returning from the bush Martin takeout several set of explosive devices, ranging from Bolo Grenades to explosive gas canisters to Q-11 plastic bombs. Handing half of the explosives and grenades to Dave, Martin resumes the plan. "From there the Monkey and I will explore the place to deem it structural safe and pests free. Side note if the wind starts picking up speed within fifteen minutes or lighting cracking around you, the both of you double times your asses over to the Monkey and I current location. Inside or not." Looking over to the other to get their confirmation the plan, everyone nods their heads. "Let move Monkey."

Dave nods his head as carefully placing the explosives into a spare pouch and clipping Bolo's on his left hip. They both leave the clearing to the abandon base.

Author's Note

1) I'm back and ready to continue my work. I want to apologies to all my readers, new and old, for the lack of updates, I really haven't been motivated to write. Too all my new readers, later chapters will make sense to what was said here, but after a few rewrites.

2) To add to this all of the my older chapters are going through a rewrite, because I made a lots of mistake in the story plot line and how I executed it the first time. Because of this fault, writing a chapter after Broken became very tedious and nerve wrecking. To the point where I nearly gave up this story. I had an idea, I knew what I wanted to write, but I couldn't executed it properly. Every time I tried the wording sounded off or it didn't work at all. So, I decide to rewrite it all.

3) Finally, I'll like to say, "Thanks for reading the Stranded Four! I hope you had a good time!"

This UNITLuna004 signing off.

P.S. Any creative criticism is wanted. I work alone so I can't spot all my mistakes.