Iron Grey

Glory Days
“Those days are gone forever, over a long time ago...”

One of the hinges had broken off the door. There was an odd collection of ponies scattered across long benches in a room adjacent to the entrance. Some of these ponies munched slowly on unappetizing piles of mush. Others lay sprawled out on the cafeteria style tables. Not one looked up.

Dim, flickering lights barely held the darkness at bay, even in the noon sun. Iron Heart instantly hated this place. Grey didn't seem to mind, though.

“Yep, that's why we had so much trouble getting in, the hinges are broken, see?” Iron Heart did his best to ignore Grey. Iron Heart trotted up to a counter near the entrance. There was nopony behind it, so he rang the small bell that sat on the counter. Or, he tried to ring it. Pushing the button only resulted in a muffled click.

“Guess it's broken,” Iron Heart thought aloud. He lifted up the bell to look underneath it.

“That's what I've been saying!” Grey looked up from inspecting the lower half of the main door. “Right here, silly. The hinge snapped clean off!”

“What are you talking about? Bells don't have...” Realizing that Grey was not, in fact, talking about the bell, Iron Heart started to say something discouraging and foul, but there was a gentle cough behind him. Iron Heart jumped around, startled. Behind the desk was a unicorn stallion. He wore an air of superiority.

“Can I help you, sir?” Iron Heart approached and put the bell back on the desk.

“Your bell's broken.”

“Indeed.” The pony behind the counter tossed his perfectly styled blue mane. “Can I... help you?”

“If your bell's broken, how the buck did you know we were here?”

“Such language!” The pony did his best to look offended and bored at the same time. “Oh, I don't know. I don't like to brag, but I guess my dull ears were still keen enough to hear all that racket you made when you came in.”

“Yeah, well that's because your door's busted too.”

“Really?” He gave a smirk. “It wasn't earlier. You ruffians must have broken it on your way in.” He wiggled a mustache derisively. Iron Heart was being patronized by facial hair.

“Well, yeah... we didn't. We just came in looking for a room.” The pony raised an eyebrow.

“We usually don't serve ponies of such a low class, but I guess with the state of the world,” he heaved a weighty sigh, “we have no choice but to be generous.”

“Fine! We can find another place!” Grey heard Iron Heart and trotted over to see why he'd raised his voice.

“There are no other places. Not in the entire fine city of Phovannah,” the pony shot back. Iron Heart had had enough, he went to buck the pony, but there was a sudden weight on him. He turned back and glared at Grey, who was holding on for dear life.

“Don't buck him, Iron Heart, we need to stay here.”

“I'm not gonna kill him, Grey! I just uff!” Iron Heart tried to buck Grey off. The pony behind the desk cleaned his monocle on his suit, bored. “Gonna... buck that smirk... right off!” After a solid minute of kicking and bucking, Iron Heart was out of breath.

“You wanna stay... huff... there? huff... Fine!” Iron Heart sat down, trapping Grey. Grey's body let out a squeaky wheeze. “So, how much for a huff... room?”

“Oh I suppose we could fit you in for... say... 400 caps.” Iron Heart got to his hooves and kicked Grey off with one buck. Grey rolled into the door, making it shudder.

“Give me one reason, one reason why I'd even think of paying that much. And what makes you think that's generous?”

“Make it 500 for being rude,” the pony looked at his hoof and clicked his teeth; he started to file the hoof down. Iron Heart was galled speechless.

“Um, mister pony, sir. My name's Grey, and my friend here is Iron heart.” Grey had trotted up to the counter, and now had on the face of a sad, miserable, little unicorn with no place to go. “We're sorry about the door. I fixed it though, when I hit it with my body. We only have 100 caps, and it's so dark and scary outside...” he sniffled and wiped a hoof across his face.

“Ah, a charity, I see. Well, you two should have said so. My master loves charity. As a mattter of fact, it's her favorite kind. Well now, my name happens to be Fancy Pants, dear Grey. Because of your manners, grace, and general likability, I will be happy to let you both stay for 100 caps.” As Fancy Pants said this, Iron Heart scowled at Grey.

“Thank you so much!”

“Not at all. Now, these are your aprons, I'll see you back here in ten minutes.”

Grey looked confused. “What are these for?”

“Why, for working, of course. I can't just let any pony stay in this fine establishment for 100 caps without putting them to work. Word would get out... and then anarchy!” Fancy Pants tapped his counter with a hoof indignantly. “Your room is 203. Now, like I said. Ten minutes.” Grey started upstairs. Iron Heart followed, his scowl deepened. “Don't make me come looking for you,” Fancy Pants called out, “You won't like it if I come looking for you.” Iron Heart grumbled something offensive.

Left Hoof

“Thank you, come again!” Grey nodded politely as he served a scoop of mush. A bleary-eyed pony blinked at him. “Enjoy your 100% fresh made slurry.” The pony looked at his plate then up at the new server, unsure of what to do with the smiling face. After an uncomfortable moment he picked up the tray and joined the others on the benches. A slow moving fan did its pitiful best to circulate air around the room. Fancy Pants approached.

“Good morning, sir! Can I offer you some of this delicious mash?” Grey levitated a scoop toward the white unicorn in his pristine suit.

“No… thank you, Grey.” The scoop floated closer, Fancy Pants Bared his teeth in disgust. “Actually, I was wondering if I might have a word.”

“Absolutely! Mr. Fancy Pants, sir. Thank you again for letting us stay and work for you!”

“Not at all. Now, let me see… how to put this. Our patrons would appreciate it if you would not be sooo… cheery.”

“But I thought our patrons liked my radiant demeanor.” Grey motioned around the room, some lethargic ponies slowly munched on the “food” Grey was serving, others were asleep on the table. “Don’t they look like they could use a good cheering up?”

“No, Grey.”

“Oh…” Grey’s ears flattened.

“As a matter of fact, those are not our patrons. Our chief patron, the fine Mare of Phovannah, will be here any moment for an inspection. And the most important thing she sees is that everything is absolutely normal. Do I make myself clear, Grey? Nothing different at all.”

“Okay, I understand.” Grey looked up sadly.

“Brilliant. I know you won’t let me down, Grey. You are so eager to please.”

As Fancy Pants left the room, Grey told a joke, hoping to cheer up the other stallion’s tail. It didn’t work.

Right Hoof

Iron Heart was working in the basement below. Aside from barely lighting the damp walls, dim lights also reflected off of clouds of dust. Squishy sacks labeled “YEAST” crinkled as Iron Heart stacked them, even though the outside of the sacks were made of cloth. Every few minutes, when there were twenty sacks loaded, Iron Heart pushed a button. A rickety elevator would spring to life and the sacks would disappear.

Iron Heart saw and heard from no other pony other than a slow moving mare earlier. She barely spoke and looked sickly. Her skin had clung tight to her ribs.

“Say, do you know what’s going on here?” he’d asked. She'd responded by looking at him with hollow eyes. She hadn’t looked well. “Here.” He tried to hand her a punga fruit that from Seacraft Slip. She’d swatted it out of his hoof.

“We’re not allowed to have those here.”

“Who says?” He picked it up and dusted it off.

“She does. I mean, not her, but the mare, the mare of Phovannah,” fear crept into her voice.

“I don’t care if Celestia told you herself, you need to eat this.” He offered it to her again. She hesitated, but only for a moment. She grabbed the fruit quickly and started to devour it. Her eyes glistened.

“I’m so sorry you’re here.”

“Why?”

“Because everypony in this city can never leave. We have to stay. She says so.” Iron Heart made to respond, but the mare burst out crying. Other than Iron Heart, nopony heard, or if they did, nopony seemed to care. The mare regained her composure. “Your work starts at the end of this hall. When you start to work, that’s when you know she’ll never let you go.” The mare started crying again. Through the tears, she managed to say. “And worst of all, I like you. That’s…. what I can’t,” a sob split her sentence, “stand. I can’t take what’ll happen if we like each other.” She turned and dashed back down the hall. Iron Heart stood there, dumbfounded, but then dashed back after her.

“Wait! Wait up.” He was catching up, but she turned and slammed a gate that was hiding in the shadows between two small lights on the wall. Iron Heart put a hoof to the gate as she sat and sobbed.

“Tonight, I’ll be back tonight….”

“What’s going on, hey what is this?” demanded Iron Heart. The mare turned tail and galloped away, sobbing and saying “I’m sorry.”

Iron Heart tried the gate. It was locked. He bucked the gate but it didn’t give. He inspected the lock and realized that he had no idea how to get through it. With nothing else to do, he had made his way back, only to find a storeroom full of bags labeled “YEAST.”

A hoof painted sign had read “MAX LOAD: 20.” Iron Heart had loaded twenty five at one time and pushed the button, but nothing happened. He brought the number loaded down to twenty one and pushed the button again. Still, there had been nothing. When there were only twenty, though, the elevator had worked.

Now, Iron Heart had cleared nearly half of the bags. There were no windows and the shaft upwards was blocked unless Iron Heart wanted to try and guess how many bags of “yeast” he weighed. He didn’t. He had already sent most of the bags up when he decided to look in one.

Left Hoof

A beautiful mare entered the room. “Good afternoon ma’am!” Her pink mane seemed to animate as she entered. Her lavender eyes, however, didn’t seem to sparkle or shine. Grey felt her presence fit right in with his dower patrons.

“Hey everypony! Let’s sing a song!” There wasn’t a single affirmation, or dissent. Instead, Grey started to simply sing. “Canterlot, oh Canterlot. How I love to see your good flag wave!” Even if it was dripping with patriotism, Grey added his own special effort and flare in an attempt to get the room to join in. “Pegasi, Earth, and Unicorns, too. Everypony is welcome in you!” Fancy Pants sat cringing.

“And who are you?” The new unicorn addressed Grey.

“Just your friendly neighborhood server pony, ma’am. Enjoy your 100% fresh made slurry!” In response, the mare laughed.

“Fancy Pants?”

“Yes Fleur Dis Lee, my dear.”

“We absolutely must have this pony entertain the others.”

“As you wish, my dear.”

“I take it you know what to do for tonight?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Wonderful dear! Can we please go shopping later?”

Fancy Pants gave a snort. “Dear, we have so much to do...”

“But sugar plum, I do want us to do what we should. But I want to go shopping, too!”

“Oh oh oh,” Grey raised a hoof like an anxious schoolcolt, “Mr. Fancy Pants, sir. That’s a great idea.”

“Stay out of this,” Fancy Pants nickered, “My dear, we haven’t time for this frivolity.”

“Mr. Fancy Pants Sir, there is always time for frivolity. It’s a saying of mine.” Grey put down his serving spoon.

“Nay,” Fancy Pants whinnied insistently, “There isn’t.” Fleur Dis Lee sashayed over to Grey with a defiant grace.

“Well Mr. Pants,” she pouted through pursed lips, “I’ll give you one guess who just forgot who the mare of this beautiful city really is. I’ll also let you guess which pony won’t be accompanying me shopping today, but doing all our work instead. I’ll even give you a hint, it’s the same pony.” Fancy Pants looked shocked, offended even.

“Why you can’t just expect-“

“Oh, I do believe I can, and I believe I just did. Or did you forget that she made ME mare of Phovannah, not you. We can go ask her, if you like.” Fancy Pants looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but no words were coming out. He stopped. His monocle fell to his chest. Fleur Dis Lee stroked a hoof under Grey’s chin. “Now my dear, let us go indulge in some “frivolity”.”

Grey smiled. Then he took a sterner stance and gave a salute. “Ma’am, yes ma’am. Your humble shopping slave will be prepared in one minute.”

“Now I must protest,” Fancy Pants protested. As soon as he said this, Grey adorned him with a serving apron and spoon.

Right Hoof

Trial and error. That was the idea that Iron Heart came up with. He stood on the platform, pushing the button, hoping to be lifted up in the elevator. After many minutes of failure, he made a balance beam with some planks of wood lying around. He added sacks one at a time until he started to lift; it didn’t take many sacks, they were heavy.

Iron Heart took off three sacks and pushed the button, still nothing. Holding his breath, he opened a sack and started emptying the half rotten chunks onto the floor. A red, gooey, putrid mess decorated the floor. He pushed the button again to no avail. Apparently his body couldn’t take the smell anymore. His stomach mixed in its contents with the red puddles on the floor. Iron Heart put out a hoof to steady himself. There was the click of a button being pressed. He lost his balance when the elevator started to move upwards.

The grinding gears and screech of rusty metal died as the elevator came to an abrupt stop. Three creatures were dumping sacks into a large grinder. Their bodies looked like a black shell that had been in the sun too long. They had massive shells that covered their lumbering forms. They had been dumping the bags quickly and more efficiently than Iron Heart, despite their size and lumbering claws.

The work stopped. A flurry of strange clicks and buzzes broke out. A flutter of wings brought a green pony-sized creature into view. It had green, leafy skin that shone in the light and black eyes. Iron Heart couldn’t decide if it looked like a plant or an insect. Wings fluttered as it stepped back and hissed. It fluttered away quickly after some more clicking sounds. The three forms rushed at Iron Heart with alarming speed.

Iron Heart drew out an assault rifle. “Please let this actually be a challenge.” One of the forms leapt through the air at him. Taking to the air, Iron Heart jumped away, landing hard and rolling. The one that had jumped came to land on where he had been. “Now that’s more like it,” he smiled. The other two creatures were on him.

Left Hoof

Grey turned down another alley. Fleur Dis Lee, or just Fleur as she preferred, had already accumulated a number of items for Grey to carry. He huffed and struggled, saddle bags stuffed with various things, all of them old, but most of them very pretty. He held one bag in his muzzle.

“Hurry up, Grey! There’s my favorite café! You absolutely must try their dandelion sandwiches.”

“Mhb-pfuffer,” Grey replied. Fleur laughed.

“You’re silly, dear. Come along now, I’m quite tired and need a break.” Grey snorted and rolled his eyes. Serving mush was boring, but at least it hadn’t been heavy. “Don’t be like that, it’ll be worth it, trust me.”

They reached the café and Grey flopped down. A bowling ball came loose. “Two dandelion sandwiches, please. Tea for me and, how about you?”

“Hot cocoa please.”

“But monsieur,” the butler who had come was more animated than the other patrons of the cafe, but he seemed to still have a sadness about him, “it is but summer.”

“But my sewer, it is never too hot for hot cocoa. I try to live by that saying.”

“Very good.” The waiter disappeared.

“Where did everypony come from?” Grey had noticed many ponies now, whereas beforehand Iron Heart and he could barely see anything, pony or not, inside the city.

“Well,” Fleur started, “All these ponies have different priorities. You must understand that they love their mare. So they come out in droves to catch a glimpse of me, their benevolent administrator.” The sandwiches arrived and Grey took a bite.

“But they look so sad and bored.”

“Grey,” Fleur chuckled, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to eat with your muzzle open?” Grey nodded back excitedly. “You’re funny. You absolutely must join us for tonight. Why, we haven’t seen a pony like you in years.”

Grey looked up from his sandwich and blushed at the compliment. “Really? What about all the fine citizens of Phovannah?”

“Trust me, you’re not like a single one of those ponies.”

“But Fleur, surely there must be one citizen of this city more worthy of your presence. Take that fine waiter of ours, for example.”

“HIM? No Grey, I’m convinced that we need you tonight.”

“Why Fleur, what’s so special about tonight. What’s going on?”

“Tonight is going to be a wonderful soiree for Phovannah’s truly elite. I absolutely must have you there. I can’t tell you how interested my friends and I will be… in… you…” Fleur leaned over the table, smiling. Again she reached a hoof over and stroked underneath Grey’s chin. He smiled and leaned his head into her touch.

“You know, after everything that's been happening, I think I’d like that. I think I’d like that a lot.”

“I’m so thrilled to hear it!” Fleur stood up quickly in her chair. “In that case, Grey, grab our things, we have to get back and get ready for nightfall. Pepper Salt, oh Pepper! Do be a dear and make my drink to go; my friend and I must be off.” The butler returned a few minutes later, two traveling cups readied. Grey had never seen a traveling cup. The idea was novel, luxurious, and foreign.

“They just give you a glass you can take home with you? Don’t they need it back?”

“Of course not, Grey, they’re disposable,” Fleur assured. “Pepper, do be a good pony and put this on my tab.” The butler bowed.

“Disposable? You throw them away when you’re done?” Fleur replied with a nod. Throwing something away after one use astonished Grey. He couldn’t say exactly why, but he was sure it had to do with growing up fighting for most meals, scrounging for one cup and using it again and again. That, however, was a very long time ago. “Why that’s so wonderfully frivolous.” Grey went to follow Fleur when the butler stopped him.

“Madame’s tab takes care of madam.” He held out a hoof expectantly.

“Well, sir, here’s my two bits, then. You should say hi to Bray. I’m sure he misses you, wherever he is.” The butler’s face stayed steady. Grey was disappointed when he didn’t seem to react at all. Seeing his lack of reaction started to make Grey more than a bit curious. Grey dropped two prewar bits into the butler’s hoof. Two eyes looked back at Grey, sullen. Grey waved happily, grunted as he lifted the old, dirty boxes and bags, and reluctantly took one bag in his muzzle again. A gray aura wrapped around one cup as Grey levitated it along with everything else and trotted after the charming mare.

Right Hoof

As quickly and quietly as he could, Iron Heart tried the first door on this floor. It was locked. Cursing quietly, he tried the next door. He could hear a slow plodding sound work its way to this floor. The second door opened. Iron Heart ducked into the room and closed the door.

Sweat poured down Iron Heart’s face. He cleared his vision with the back of a hoof. “Tactical retreat,” he managed between breaths, “good enough.” He went over to a mirror to examine himself. He pulled out the assault rifle and went to reload it, only to notice that it was jammed solid. More than jammed, the barrel of the gun had a gash in it. He tossed the gun aside and looked at the rest of himself.

A few wicked scars cut their way across his armor, marring the shamrock and “O’Rielly” painted on them. He let out a sigh, now he’d need to repair the armor. He hated the armor. It stood up well against damage, but it was made for an earth pony. It clung tight against his folded wings. He couldn’t fly in it, and that bothered him. A strange sound came from the hall outside the door. Iron Heart dove behind a sofa and went silent.

There was a scratching at the door, followed by a slow plodding, and then silence. Giving it a few extra moments, just to be sure, Iron Heart stood back up. There was something on the couch. A sudden chill shivered down his back. Reaching for the lamp, Iron Heart’s hoof came down on something that rattled. Nervously, he flipped the switch.

A sudden set of smiling teeth made him stifle a whinny. It was a pony skeleton. At least it looked like a pony, but something was off. Whoever it was had been lying on the couch and was forever reaching to turn on the light. Iron Heart searched the room. There was a briefcase that he opened. Inside was a pistol that he didn’t recognize. It had a silencer. There were also a few pre-war bits and a note. Iron Heart held the note to the light.

So they sew,

Comrade Xult’an. Your years of integration training have served us well. Consider this your call to wake up, your call to deliver the eggs of our enemy’s destruction into their very heart. We are sending a contingent to you. Make sure they enter Paddock Promontory without detection. See that they reach their rendezvous point with their most holy cargo. After their mission is complete, we will deliver your debriefing. You can retrieve it at the Barnside Bank in town. Access deposit box 3212 and provide the password “firelily blossom.”

After that, you will start your conquest of Paddock Promontory. This second mission is just as important as the first, as Paddock Promontory will become our hoof-hold to continue our necessary invasion. Your task is full of holy fire and blessed with success.

-- Zenn’an, Follower of the Fire

You really should stop underestimating the ministries. Love, J

Iron Heart didn’t know what to make of the extra text at the bottom. It was hoof written whereas the rest of the letter looked like it had come from an old type writer. Iron Heart searched the rest of the room and found nothing. He took a few minutes to try to clear his assault rifle. If the damned thing hadn’t jammed I would’ve had ‘em. After a few moments he got frustrated. Keeping the barrel away from him, he pulled hard on the charging handle. There was a metal snap and a bullet flung across the room. The charging handle snapped forward faster than he expected. He needed to replace parts on the rifle or it’d be useless soon.

Iron Heart turned off the light, doing his best to ignore the skeleton on the sofa. He knew it was still there, even if he couldn’t see it. Cracking the door, he poked his head out and looked right, then left. Before looking left, there was a soft thud on the carpeted hotel floor. He turned, noticing one of the strange creatures flying through the air, swiping a claw at his head. Iron Heart ducked back into the room. How can something so large be so quiet, he asked himself.

The door shuddered as a sudden weight hurled against it. Iron Heart was knocked to the ground by the force. Outside, a series of strange clicking sounds started to grow louder. Figuring that meant there were now more, he braced against the door. A thought crossed his mind. One had been checking rooms while at least one more had watched the hall. They were intelligent. What was worse, they were difficult to kill. Part of the door shattered inward as a claw snapped through the wood.

Left Hoof

By the time Grey and Fleur returned to the hotel, the sun was setting. It was hard to say when day ended and night began. Instead of getting suddenly dark, the sky just slowly gave up its ghostly light.

“Good evening my dear Fleur… and you. I half expected you to not come back,” Fancy Pants sneered as Grey and Fleur came in.

“Ift good do fee yew ptoo!” Grey spat the bag from his muzzle.

“How could you say such a thing about my little Grey?” Fleur scratched Grey under the muzzle again. He smiled wide and a hind leg began to twitch involuntarily.

“Is he your pet now? Well I suppose I could get the doghouse ready…” Fancy Pants instantly regretted his choice of words. At that, Fleur marched over to Fancy Pants and fixed him with a dangerous stare. She saddled close and showed her teeth.

“Bite your tongue or you won’t like who winds up outside in that doghouse of yours,” she hissed. “Besides- dear- it’s me he wants, not you.” Her demeanor calmed and she called around, primping her hair with a hoof. “Isn’t that right, Grey?”

“Huh? What?” A flagrantly large hat twisted around as if it were trying to see. Grey’s tiny body poked out from underneath. “Is that you, Fleur?” The bags and boxes Grey had been toting lay in a lazy heap. One particularly large box had been opened; Grey had seen fit to purloin what was inside. Fleur gave a warm chuckle and looked at Fancy Pants. Fancy Pant’s look told Fleur that he found the gray unicorn’s idiocy astonishing. She gave him a saccharine smile.

“Everything is ready for our soiree tonight, yes?”

Fancy Pants squirmed. “Preparations… uh… had almost been completed.” Fleur’s face went dark. “Dear… you- you don’t understand… his friend- a disturbance.”

“Are you meaning to tell me, that you have one- simple- task- and it’s not done?” Instead of raising her voice, she kept her tone even, but made her words shorter; every word came like a quiet knife. “I guess this just means we’ll have to cancel for tonight.”

Fancy Pants looked distraught. “No, please no! I need that don’t take tonight away. Be reasonable dear! Please.”

Fleur pranced around until her other side faced Fancy Pants. “So I am to take it that everything will be ready?”

“Of course, I will see to it personally.”

“Good, because I needn’t remind you that tonight is important for both of us. Also, there’s one fine guest in particular that you don’t want to have to see to you.”

“Right away dear, I will see to it right away,” Fancy Pants left the room a nervous wreck.

“Um, Fleur?” There was a thud. “Oowww.” The giant hat sat on its gray behind and rubbed its crown with a hoof. “I think this is stuck on my horn… and I’m lost.” Grey’s voice was coming from somewhere underneath the hat. Fleur gave a laugh.

“Not to worry, dear, I’m right here.” The hooves under the hat reached out and started groping at air. Fleur giggled and played a little game, trying to see if Grey could find her. It ended when Grey's hoof found her chest. She smiled and stopped the hat from engulfing it's swallowed perch, revealing Grey underneath. Grey's eyes and muzzle went wide. “Come Grey, you and I have to get ready.”

Right Hoof

The door to the hotel room sheared off its hinges, crashing to the floor. A lumbering shell jumped onto the green combat armor and helmet.

“So long, buckers! Hah ha!” Iron Heart flew just beneath the doorway and into the hall. Another one in the hall angled itself up, trying to see Iron Heart. It jumped blindly. “Not even close!” Iron Heart cried out as he flew down the hall toward freedom. Iron Heart stopped short and flew up the stairs when he saw the shadow of a form making its way toward him.

Inside the hotel room a second form appeared, then a third. One picked up the combat armor and held it close to its face, trying to make mane or tail of the situation. There was a rattle as it picked it up and turned to face its comrades. The three creatures stared at each other as the skeleton’s armored head rattled to the floor. A cacophony of clicking filled the room.

Just before reaching the third floor, Iron Heart met with a green ceiling in the stairway. He could see the stairs beyond and figured it must be some kind of magic. Iron Heart poked a tentative hoof through. Nothing seemed to happen. With a shrug, he flew through, bucking open the door at the top of the stairs. One of creatures, barely fitting in the stairway found its way to the field of green.

It hit the field with a “thunk.” Clicking indignantly, it tried three more times. It was repulsed each time. Two powerful claws scraped and snapped at the field to no avail. There the creature sat, waiting for something to happen.

Dull lights flickered to life. Some continued to flicker, never quite making it. Iron Heart was in a large room. Two sets of doors, one on the wall opposite the entrance and one adjacent, gave Iron Heart some options on what to do next. The contents of the room made no sense to him. Large glass cylinders sat on tables. Some were filled with cloudy liquids while others contained plants of a rainbow of colors that changed as Iron Heart looked at them. Bookshelves and terminals and equipment he couldn’t name, all of it seemed to come together for some purpose he couldn’t name. He shrugged it all off when he didn’t find anything he knew he could use.

Behind one door was a room filled with stable tech terminals. Trying one, he found it required a password. “The one time I could use that idiot.” He went back and tried the other door. It opened into an office. There was a large window, but no sunlight showed through. “Dark already?” He flew over to the terminal on the desk. He was used to a cloud interface, but managed to muddle his way through the keys. There were four entries he could access. Iron Heart chose the first.

Foalish. Brash. Over-reaching. They said I should stay in high society where I belonged, that this venture would not prove fruitful, and that I had no business shoving my muzzle where it didn’t belong. Me? They dared to preach to me about what defines fruitful? They’re the foals.

Years I've been respected in Canterlot. Years until this war started. I've been ignored as a socialite, an outcast. A pony who, “doesn't know the first thing about a real fight.” They have sought to ostracize and isolate both me and my dear Fleur Dis Lee. I cannot take such insults any longer. Not myself, but for my darling must I show their filthy world what true durability looks like. They have laughed at my societal misfortunes but soon they will cry out for a taste of my genius. I will look down at them from across the sea and say, “Nay!”

Already my venture has born fruit. With my other holdings, this hotel, and my influence at Stable-Tech, I now have everything I need to leave them in the dust. Instead of a piteous glitterati, those slack-jaws won’t know what bucked them when my brilliance takes them from nowehere.

-FP, Head Researcher, Visionary, Stallion of Business and Innovation

Iron Heart continued with the next entry.

Better than I’d expected. I have pulled together a stunning lab, the muscle to guard it, and an army of like-minded unicorns to use it to its full potential. Construction is continuing on below, as well. My operation should be finished within the month.

My only concern now is perfecting the virus. It proved difficult at first. There were… regrettable setbacks and more than a few accidents, but I ensured that the families were fairly compensated. As a matter of fact, I offered most of them accommodations in our new society, but they all refused.

I am convinced, though, that the MEP is the key to the next step in pony evolution. Even more, it can provide every pony the durability, longevity, and metabolism required to survive the harshest environments. I have been asking for testing volunteers, but none have acquiesced.

Now if only I could get Fleur Dis Lee to follow. I can hear her now, “I refuse to give up all my friends for that filthy swamp.” I keep telling here that Phovannah is nothing like that and we can make a name for ourselves. Nay, we can own this land. Then she could build all the shops she could ever want. Friends? She could be the mare of the whole city when we’re through. She will come around, she has to.

-FP, A True Gentlecolt, A Stallion About Town, The Stallion of the Future

While it started as interesting, Iron Heart was getting bored. He clicked to the next entry.

Construction is complete! In celebration, I have commissioned Stable 0 with my best champagne. I let Scootaloo know how pleased I was. In our new world there will certainly be a place for her, too. Now I must think of a suitable password. I’m sure I shall think of something poignant.

-FP

Iron Heart selected the last entry out of duty. Duty, and the shred of hope he had that he might actually read something interesting. It certainly was not because he wanted to.

The contagion is complete, and it has surpassed my wildest expectations! I must chronicle my thoughts. Instead of waiting around for who-knows-how-long for nature to take its course, why not understand the process and make it happen? The next step in pony evolution now belongs to us! I cannot write of the endless hours, the tireless nights, or the countless setbacks, the result is too marvelous.

Instead of what went wrong, I shall speak of what went right. In the first, the simple biology provided the inception of the design. Countless examples of flora and fauna adapting exist. Why not understand the process? Why not improve upon it? Why not gain such a knowledge of this that we gain the ability to control it? Why not indeed, when the deed is already done?

However, what could possibly govern such a transformation in such a species? Genetics you magnificent bastard! If we control the gene, we can control our world. Then, all we would need is to take the best genetics from different species and splice it into our own. Trees that live over four hundred years? Easy! I give you a pony who's life span would approach that of the Princesses' themselves. How about an earth pony with wings?

Now, for the final piece: delivery. How can a living, breathing pony go through such radical transformation and come out alive? All one needs is to look to nature, once again, and the answer is obvious! What else is nature's little genetic reprogrammer but a virus? Once we have successfully extracted the genes we need, we can implant them in a virus and let it do its work. This is done too slowly under natural circumstances, and often results in death, so we have magically enhanced the process. Word has spread to the Ministry of Peace... we're expecting a visit from them soon.

In the end it was my collection of scientists, of visionaries, and my dear lovely Fleur Dis Lee who brought me here. Them, and my unexpected partner. Between her magic and the endless stream of volunteers she provided, we have been able to perfect our process.

And here's where those neighsayers come in with their high minded “reservations.” Don't they know the world is ending? Certainly not. I do, and so do those wretched others. Too bad they haven't the answer to our society's survival, unlike myself. I simply wish I was the only one with this ambition.

Two things I must put down. The name of our brilliant discovery: Metamorphous Equine Pathogen (MEP). The password to the Seedpod (my pet name for Stable 0): “firelily blossom.”

-FP Boldly Into the Future

Iron Heart was trying to remember where he had heard that before. There was a creak. Iron Heart looked up quickly. Fancy Pants stood at the doorway to the office.

“Well now, this is interesting. I must say, you are the first pony to ever make it up here.” Fancy Pants wore a smug smirk. He was also levitating a pistol with a silencer on the end. Iron Heart matched with a smile of his own.

“Grinding pony pieces? Viruses? What are you up to?”

“Killing you.” Fancy Pants squeezed the gun's trigger. Iron Heart leapt and unfurled his wings. There was no way Fancy Pants could hit him at this speed, or so Iron Heart had thought. To his amazement, Fancy Pants hadn't aimed at him. To his horror, the desk behind him exploded. Iron Heart tumbled and rolled, coming to a stop in front of a pair of white hooves. Looking up, he saw Fancy Pants still wearing the same smile.

Iron Heart coughed as the dust settled. “H.E.-,” he coughed again, “doesn't that... defeat the purpose?”

Fancy Pants looked down. “This silencer? Oh my dear Iron Heart. That was only the first bullet. I assure you this gun has plenty of magical tricks up it's sleeve.” Fancy Pant's expression became twistedly gleeful as if there was some joke only he was getting. “Now then, let us see if that heart of yours really is made of iron.” The pistol twisted toward Iron Heart. Iron Heart lunged. Fancy Pants fired.

Iron Heart connected and knocked his target, the pistol, away. In a snap decision, he'd figured that attacking Fancy Pants would give the unicorn plenty of time to adjust the aim and fire again. Instead, the unicorn looked surprised and panicked as he searched frantically for the gun; Iron Heart treasured that look.

But something was wrong. A strange light cast itself about the room. Iron Heart heard himself screaming in short breaths, but he didn't know why. Looking down, he staggered. A bright glow was starting to eat its way into his chest. “Goddess! DAMN!” Iron Heart made another snap decision.

Fancy Pants found the gun and twirled both himself and the gun back towards the smoking desk. He saw Iron Heart hurl himself toward the glass window.

Iron Heart hadn't noticed, but he did now. The window was a stained glass window, and ambient light from the moon illuminated it with a soft blue light. Three ponies stood on the top half. At the center was Fancy Pants, to the right was Fleur Dis Lee. To the left was the same figure from the statue that he couldn't recognize. Rays of light poured forth from behind them. Below, in the shadow of the three, was a familiar symbol. From some long forgotten memory Iron Heart recognized Celestia and Luna, sisters of the sun and moon, frolicking in an intertwined circle. It was all wrong, though. Both sisters were rotten, partially eaten away. Dying or already dead, Iron Heart couldn't tell as he flew hoof-first into them, shattering their glass forms. There was a muffled sound of gunfire and the soft tinkle of raining glass.

Iron Heart didn't remember landing, or much afterward. His body faded in and out of consciousness. What he did remember was a form standing over him in the moonlight. She was beautiful, but also concerned. He was being dragged on the stone street. She must have been strong because the world around was passing quickly for one pony dragging another. At one point he'd tried to say something, to get up, but she pushed him to the ground. At another time, he'd recognized a special medical device he had been trained on. He had reached for it, but she had knocked it away. She yelled something, but Iron Heart couldn't understand. The blade of a keen knife had glinted in the moon. Then his world had gone dark.

On the Left Hoof

“We're all ready everypony!”

“Leeeet's spin this shi-!” A white unicorn DJ with a blue mane flipped down her glasses and started a loud song with a deep beat, drowning out the rest of her sentence.

A few flakes of something fell from the cracking ceiling. The function hall was much larger than the hotel and accommodated the guests quite easily, but it was in worse shape. Faded wooden walls connected to a white and cracking ceiling. Dusty red curtains stretched from the floor all the way up to the upper sills of long windows. The dirty carpet was a dark green and was torn in some places. Grey thought it looked old and unsettling.

All the guests there didn't seem to mind, however. The whole function hall had come alive. Almost everypony was well dressed, and many were dancing. Grey trotted around the room, distracted. Some ponies talked about how wonderful their city of Phovannah was, while others were shocked that such boisterous music had gotten popular in Canterlot. Grey even heard one hushed conversation about the DJ.

“Clearly the Ministry recognizes how important Phovannah is,” one stallion explained to another, “I've heard that she's a favorite of the Ministry, and the fact that she's at our party... well, let's just say having the DJ Poney marks a new beginning for us.” Grey thought they looked funny talking to each other with their muzzles up in the air.

While the party was attended by mostly ponies, other species were present as well. Grey saw a pair of griffons standing around the punch bowl, an odd zebra here and... wait a minute, he thought. Grey found himself next to a miserable looking zebra with a scar on her muzzle.

“It's you! How did you get here?” Grey's question caught her attention.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at him. “Did my warning even catch your ear?”

“What am I doing here? I, uh well...” Grey retorted. The zebra put a hoof to her face.

“Why do you ponies always ignore my warning? Do you have any idea what will happen to you by morning?”

“Well, I did come with a date, so...” Grey put on the stupidest grin he could. “Probably a long... awkward kiss in front of her apartment.” He was blushing. It looked like he was actually uncomfortable. Uncomfortable talking about a kiss. The zebra couldn't believe he was being serious.

“No you foal! You've been in their trap ever since the shoal!” She started to rub her head. “Here I thought you might be able to save me. You're just an idiot with too much bravery!”

“Ah ha! See? You're doing it again! You do always rhyme.”

“What are you babbling about? We haven't much time! Dammit.”

Grey trotted in place excitedly. “Oh oh oh, you're doing it with me now, the rhyming thingy.” The zebra let out a groan. “Dammit. Hush. Don't make yourself known. They'll see you're not local and your cover's blown!”

“Cover? Is this a costume party? If so, I’m completely unprepared.” Grey trotted over to a mare, clothed in a lemon dress, gingerly sipping from a sparkling glass. “I say! What ho fair filly?” Grey started speaking in a terrible accent. “Is tonight’s soiree a masquerade?”

“Young stallion, this is not that kind of party!” she responded, looking offended. “Now shoo, you’re interrupting me.” She brought the glass away from her lips and put a hoof around her escort, bringing the two very close. Her escort was in an equally fancy dress of scarlet, but her expression was sorrowful. Where the one Grey had interrupted was vibrant, her partner’s face was a dower mask. The mare in scarlet looked over at Grey with hollow eyes and extended a hoof.

“Please…” she wheezed. “Pleeaase.”

The one in lemon tried to pull her away. “There’s no need for that, come let’s dance.”

“Not at all fair maiden,” Grey interrupted. “I know exactly what you need. Don’t move, I say!” Grey disappeared and reappeared moments later with an identical looking glass. “Here you are miss, just what you need for that wheeze of yours.” The mare in scarlet looked at the glass then questioned Grey with a look. “I say, no need to be shy, drink up!” The mare looked confused, but took a sip. She brought the glass down, then back up, and drained the glass. Grey took the mare in lemon aside. “Look here, lemon.”

“My name’s no-“

“Your escort is violently dehydrated,” Grey preached, “I want you to make sure she gets enough liquid, but only give her a small glass at a time, forsooth, and nothing too alcoholic, if you catch my drift.”

“Dehydrated?” She looked aghast, which turned to confusion. “What’s that?” Grey returned her look with one of his own.

“Young filly, do you mean to tell me you don’t know about dehydration?” Grey waited an awkward moment. A notepad and pen floated out. The pen started scribbling. “First aid, my dear filly, education, enlightenment!” Grey sounded ridiculous. The zebra stopped shaking her head from behind him and started looking around the room. “Lieutenant Blue Bell has a wonderful class in first aid. To be sure, she is stationed on an Enclave military base at least three days’ journey by sky chariot, but who can put a price on health? Not I, forsooth. Take her card.” A page tore from the notebook floated over. A crudely drawn drill pony frowned down at a cartoonish red cross doing what were supposed to be push-ups. Below was a section labeled “how to fly there.”

“Come, we must go.” The zebra collared Grey toward the dance floor.

“But I don’t wanna!” Grey’s voice cracked back to its normal timbre.

“Dance you idiot, else they’ll know!” The zebra started to dance. Although the music had a steady beat, her dance was slow and serious. She glared at Grey. Grey just orbited around her, bouncing merrily up and down.

There was a change in the music. It became melodic and had a softer beat.

“Grey? Grey! There you are, my dear! Come dance with me!” Fleur Dis Lee was sashaying through the crowd, stopping every so often to jive with the music.

“Fleur!” Grey galloped over excitedly. They met and started to dance their way to the center.

“I just talked to Velvet Rose,” Fleur yelled over the music. ‘She told me what you did. That was very sweet of you.” Grey blushed.

“Oh, you mean Lemon? I just uh… it was nothing you see… the mare needed a glass of water.”

“Not in the least!” Fleur stopped dancing and marched over to Grey. “You saw exactly what that other mare needed when her escort couldn’t. And you made sure she got it.” Fleur leaned in and kissed Grey.

Grey turned red. The beat of the music was drowned out by the beat of his heart, or was that the throbbing in his head? Either way, he couldn’t remember feeling this happy, or feeling this good. But for some reason, he couldn’t hold onto it. Just as soon as the rush came, it went away. The music returned, louder than ever. Grey pulled away suddenly.

Grey looked at Fleur, confused. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “I’m sorry, did- did I do something wrong?”

“No Fleur, that was amazing. It was wow! Just absolutely wow!” Grey jumped, hooves flitting about before landing again. He suddenly looked disappointed. “But it was over so quick?”

Fleur saddled in dangerously close. So close, that Grey heard her whisper in his ear despite the music. “I guess we’ll just have to find some place where we can take our time.” Grey’s red deepened. He started getting hot and bothered. Fleur leaned in for another kiss… but she came up empty.

“That sounds w- w- w-onderful Fleur. Do you usually like to kiss me by the neck?” Grey hardly noticed his hooves dragging across the carpet as he closed his eyes and waited for his kiss. The zebra stomped off, dragging Grey by the scruff of his neck. “Fleur? Fleur! You’re not her.” Stopping, the zebra turned to face Grey.

“You don’t know what’s going on. All this, it’s all wrong.”

“Seems okay to me, everypony’s having a swell time.”

“Not everypony, take a second and look at those around thee.”

Grey looked around. Every pony had an escort. Some were stallions, some were mares, but one half of them were beautiful and gay; the other half were mourning some unspoken sorrow. In each couple there was a portrait of color next to a shade of pallor.

“Why aren’t half the ponies happy Ms. Zebra? Isn’t this a party?”

“Yes Grey, of course it is.” Fleur took Grey by the neck and dragged him into the crowd. “What you did earlier helped that other mare, Velvet’s escort, realize how few were getting the water they needed. About half these ponies are thirsty, as a matter of fact.” The zebra jumped out from the crowd, knocked Fleur away and started dragging Grey in the opposite direction.

“Then why do they look like death has warmed over? Surely you can see this one’s hollow eyes and gaunt shoulder.” Grey and the zebra were stopped as she tried to explain to Grey. The music stopped suddenly. Everypony, sickly and healthy, pony or other, bowed low. Fleur looked around and spotted them. She approached them both to take her escort by the neck once more, but stopped short when she saw who they were all bowing to.

“Too late!” the zebra cried.

“Princess Celestia!” Small though he was, Grey’s voice echoed across the hall. Ignoring all else, he galloped as fast as his tiny hooves would carry him.

The entire room was aglow. Even the eerie red curtains seemed to soften and brighten at the new presence. On one end of the hall two large doors were now open. Just past them stood the radiant Celestia. A white coat almost emitted light itself while her rainbow mane glinted from some hidden light. Her wings were spread wide as she entered, then folded into her side. Celestia wasn't only a pegasus or a unicorn, she was an alicorn. Instead of just possessing a horn or a set of wings, she bore both. Every animal, great and small, was bowing low. Every individual was bowing low except for the zebra and Grey.

A sea of ponies did nothing to stop the tiny stallion from bounding his way to Celestia. He wrapped his fore hoofs around her neck and pressed his muzzle into her chest. He breathed in deeply, even her smell was beautiful. Some of the ponies in the room got up, astonished, a few gasped.

A few armored guards approached, but Celestia waved them off with a hoof. She looked down and gave a warm smile. “Who might you be?” Grey looked up, almost muzzle to muzzle with the countenance of his goddess.

“I'm Grey Grid! I'm so happy to meet you! There's so much I want to say, so much I want to ask you. But, if I could, your highness, could I-I just stay close to you? Even if it's just for tonight?” Grey buried his muzzle back in Celestia's chest. She breathed in deeply.

“Well Grey Grid. This is most... unusual.” Grey was suddenly self conscious. He pulled back, avoiding her gaze.

“I, oh um, you're right. I'm sorry.” Grey looked like he was expecting to be rebuffed further.

Celestia cocked her head. “You have done what no pony else in this room has. Why?” Still avoiding her gaze, Grey looked around nervously. “Do not be afraid Grey, be honest.”

“I... I just love you.” His eyes started to glisten. Celestia breathed in deeply again.

“I'll say this once more, Grey. You have done what no pony else in this room has. I want you by my side.”

Grey's expression changed from nervous to fear to elation. “Really? Really!”

“Really, really,” Celestia nodded. Grey put a hoof around her, hugging her once more. “This is pure, I haven't felt love like this since...” Celestia's chest heaved as she breathed in. She wobbled in place slightly.

“Your majesty?” Fleur had approached and gave a gentle cough. Celestia didn't move, but opened her eyes.

“May I help you Fleur? I trust everything is in order in Phovannah?”

“Fine thank you. I was wondering if I could have my escort back.”

Celestia looked down, Grey was nuzzling her happily. She looked directly at Fleur. “No, I think he is going to stay with me.”

Fleur lifted a hind leg in surprise. “But he came with me, he wants me!”

Celestia looked down and smiled. “Whatever do you mean?” her tone remained measured. “That does not look like it is the case.” Fleur's eyes brightened with an arcane fire. Fleur looked at Grey, then at Celestia. If she weren't so hungry, she might have remained in control. She paced back and forth, back and forth, and back again.

“No? No, no No NO! He wanted me, he loves ME!” Fleur danced close, sashayed, spun, and bucked high with her hooves. Their impact made a deep click.

Celestia's head turned back to face Fleur once more, her smile had grown wider. “Wait here love, I'll be right back.” Grey was so overwhelmed by meeting Celestia that he didn't seem to notice, or do, anything. Celestia moved him aside with a hoof. Fleur stooped.

“I don't... I'm s-” Fleur tried to get her words out, but Celestia loomed over her and came down with two hooves of wild fury. DJ Pon3, as the unicorn DJ's banner proclaimed, grinned as she threw on some rock.

Fleur stumbled back, bruised. Celestia shot raw magic at her. She dodged and fired back. Celstia spread her wings and flew over the blast, rolling in the air to avoid Fleur's attempt to correct her aim. Both hooves came down on Fleur again. She blocked one strike and avoided the other. Fleur whinnied and reared. Celestia prepared for an attack, but Fleur's rearing was the attack. She boxed Celestia's face three or four times, staggering the larger mare. Fleur got her rhythm back. She danced her way to the fallen Celestia, unholy fire in her eyes. Celestia's eyes went wide.

A buck to the face laid Celestia flat. A number of guards struggled and roared to get through. A flock of laughing Griffons held them at bay, cruelly eager to see who the winner would be. Fleur reared again, coming down on Celestia hard. The fallen mare coughed, trying to get her wind back. Fleur laughed, whinnied, and went to cripple her princess.

“NO!” Grey yelled, throwing himself on Celestia. Moments before she smacked Grey, Fleur put one hoof on the floor, checking the blow.

“MOVE!” Fleur whinnied furiously. Grey shook his head madly, but was instantly flipped onto his back. Celestia had flipped him off by extending a wing. In one smooth motion Celestia rolled to her side, danced her head, lit the tip of her horn, and thrust through Fleur. Blood rolled onto her beautiful coat. Celestia retracted and stood tall, regal and victorious. Once again, the music stopped.

“NO NO NO!” Grey screamed. He ran over to Fleur. She staggered and leaned hard against Grey. Her eyes grew sad. “Don't do that, no stay with me! Come on! I love you, I really do!” She smiled at him and leaned in closer.

“I know,” she whispered. Somehow, Grey felt like his love was being drawn into her. It was as if she was internalizing it, making it a part of her. When Grey realized what was going on, he focused and loved her as hard as his little heart knew how. The griffons broke off, the guards rushed in, but Celestia waved them off with a hoof once more.

“Too bad, really,” Celestia brushed herself off as if nothing had happened, ignoring her own bruises and the small splotches of blood that spotted her coat. “You need a reminder of who it is who made you the mare, even if it is the last lesson you ever learn.”

Fleur started to shimmer. “N-no. He loves me this way!” Her form twisted, but remained.

“Idiots! I thought Iron Heart was hard to get along with, but it's you two I can't stand!” Grey rounded, furious. “I loved you both. Can't I do that? Can't you let me have one happy night? Or do you both need to be so selfish?”

“What do you mean? You can't have it both ways,” Celestia shot back bitterly.

“Don't you know there's more than one type of love?” he rounded on the wounded Fleur. “And you! Is it so hard to trust me for a few hours? Didn't you think I'd come back?” Fleur's eyes were drooping. “After all that, the least you two could do is act like the ponies you're pretending to be. That's the one rule of a masquerade, never let your mask go!”

Celestia did a double take. “Grey? What are you talking about?”

“Oh please,” he squeaked. “Do you actually think Celestia would attack one of her own so easily, even when provoked? And you, any gentlepony would never lift a single hoof up against her goddess. I'd have done anything for either of you, but you wouldn't let me pretend for five minutes.” Fleur collapsed.

Grey looked at her, trying to assess the damage. “Please no, please no!” Her breathing slowed. Her form shook, shimmered, and transformed. In place of Fleur was a leafy green body. It was slightly smaller than a pony, and had black eyes; the eyes were mostly closed. As Grey came in close, he saw that the blood showed a rainbow sheen in the light. “Please don't go, please don't!” The zebra stood aloof, trying to judge the situation. She clutched her side.

Grey felt a hoof on his shoulder. The zebra bent close, looked at the creature Grey clutched, and started rummaging through her bag. She dumped the contents on the floor. Looking through them, she picked up some herbs and ground them together. There was a small stand with a glowing stone underneath. Picking it up and blowing on it made it glow brighter. One thing that had fallen out was a healing potion. The ground herbs went into the healing potion and onto the small stand.

“She's part plant. When I fix this potion, giving it to her will be your errand.” Grey looked at the zebra and gave a nod. Celestia left to get the party to continue. Guards surrounded Grey, the zebra, and the unconscious creature that had replaced Fleur.

The potion began to bubble and change color. The zebra gave a nod. Grey picked up the potion and poured it down the creature's throat. He massaged it down. Standing back, Grey breathed a sigh. “What now?”

“I do not know. Whether it lives, only time can show.”

“Very touching, very touching. Unfortunately, however, your time is at an end. I had hoped to have you, Grey, to savor you dry, but you have spoiled my mood.” Grey perked. The voice that had come from behind him was using the words Celestia would have, but it wasn't her voice. “It's not as good, you see, when my meal knows its a meal. No matter how good you pretend.” Grey turned around to face what he knew wasn't Celestia.

“You're right,” he sighed. “But you're good. I would have liked to keep pretending.”

The form of Celestia put a hoof under his chin. “You're not so bad yourself... but I'm afraid your outburst has spoiled my appetite. I'm not ungrateful, though, so you and your friend will have the honor to be a different kind of meal.” She began to laugh deeply. Her eyes glowed with an arcane malice.

Addendum I:

Field Report- Spike

Related Reference- Field Fleet Report 1024

Classified-Access Restricted

Security Authority Recognized......................

Decryption Initiated.................................................................................

Decryption Complete..............................................................................

Dragons. The very word strikes fear into most cadets, and rightly so. Immensely powerful, unable to be tamed, and able to kill a pony without even thinking, these flying harbingers of death continue to be used as brutal weapons in the conflicts that have embroiled the wasteland. Spike is one such weapon, and for reasons unknown at the writing of this report, Spike the Dragon has allied himself against the Enclave. Lion and Mouse may be the first cause of death among our military, but Spike is a close second.

I continue to request these reports be released publicly as our populace needs to know the threats we face. My requests continue to be denied. Spike was a close friend and personal assistant to none other than Twilight Sparkle, the Mare of the Ministry of Magic (MOM). Our best sources suggest that at some point Spike was sent to live in the caves of Dragon Mountain. We say he was sent because our archives turned up a piece of information considered unimportant at the time. Before the great bale fire, Dragon Mountain received a dispersal of resources from the MOM. After that, and still before the bombs, Spike was relocated to the mountain itself.

We remain unaware of what was done or setup in that mountain. It is clear, however, that Spike has remained in control of whatever the MOM built there. While an uneasy peace existed between the Enclave and Spike, recent events have turned a two hundred year standoff into all out war. In the assault on Dragon Mountain (an ill-fated and ill-advised attempt to assault a heavily fortified enemy, I might add), Spike was chief among the defenders.

Furthermore, he has destroyed many of our remaining cloudships with his own claws. Our raptors cannot afford any more casualties, especially if there is nothing to show for it. We need to get smart and we need to be effective. I will attach my recommendations for our remaining raptors in a later report.

How can we fight against such a large foe? I submit that many of our largest threats must be overcome intelligently and cooperatively. Any more foolish shows of open force will not allow us to achieve our goals. The problem is we have employed the same tired tactics again and again; it is no wonder we have failed. What we need in this case, indeed in many of our other efforts as well, is an evolving paradigm. We need adaptive strategies and effective tactics. Continuing to rely on brute force to control the entire wasteland will only end in continued failure.

We have real options, however. Advanced training, improved armaments and armor, augmented intelligence can all serve to support a new, galvanizing force. We need the tried and true tactics established for just this kind of threat. We need the force that has resulted in pegasus victory time and again. I call upon the council to reform the fiercest, and most effective, force in pegasus history: the Shadowbolts. A following report will include my official recommendations as well as the supporting facts.

LEVEL UP
New Perk: Pack Pony
Are all those bags of flour too heavy to carry on your own? Too much shopping? Don't make two trips, get your very own pack pony today! (Pack pony requires a friend willing to help carry anything your whims may desire and is not included).
Carrying around all that extra weight paid off. You can carry an extra 25 lbs of equipment.