Call to Duty: Ghosts

by electreXcessive

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character, Comedy, Random, Flash Sentry
Length: 5584

Equestria is under attack by the latest yearly threat. There's only one pony who can stop it. Unfortunately, that pony is you. Good luck, soldier. You're gonna need it.

Second person fic. YOU are the protagonist.

You are the son of Brass Turret, father to you, Steel Sentry, and your brother, Flash Sentry. All you wanted was to waste away your days hiking and camping with your dad and brother, and spend your nights listening to dad's war stories and tall tales. This was all well and good, until one day, you began to live one of your dad's tall tales.

Author's Notes: A collaboration with my good friend Kalash93. Obvious parody of the newest CoD game, Call of Duty: Ghosts. Reference material can be found here and here.

Published 2013-11-21 02:50:05 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-21 02:50:05 UTC

Ghost Never Di—HUEAGGHARCKLE

“It was a different time… a different enemy.”

You look at the stallions sitting in front of you as you lay back on a log. Your mind is foggy and unclear due to lack of sleep, but you do your best to stay awake. Dad’s stories are always the best, after all. There’s just something about the way that he waves his forehooves back and forth, trying to emphasize a point that nobody else seems to understand. Sometimes it seems like he forgets that he’s even talking to other ponies. It’s like he gets lost in his own world, and sees things that aren’t really there.

After a deep sigh and a yawn, you look to your right. Your brother is sitting there, just looking bored out of his mind and smacking himself with his forehooves. His jet-blue mane is frazzled and misshapen from all of the noogies that your father’s been giving all day long. A small chuckle escapes your lips as you press a hoof to your mouth to suppress it. You know that you’re not supposed to talk when Dad’s in his storytime mode.

“What are you laughing at? It’s not funny!” Your brother crosses his orange forehooves as he sits on the log and sticks his tongue at you.

You can’t help but chuckle again at his immature gesture. He’s only playing around, but this is a somewhat common occurrence for him. He’s always getting rough-housed and tossed around by you and your father. That’s how it’s supposed to go, though. He’s the little brother. Plus, he is Flash Sentry. I mean, come on!

“Will you two be quiet? I’m tryin’ to tell a story here!” Your father’s brow furrows in frustration as he taps his chin in thought. Every muscle underneath his light gold coat tenses as he struggles to hold onto his train of thought.

You can’t help but shiver as you see just how buff your father truly is. He’s told you all about his journeys in the Royal Guard before, but seeing him like this makes you almost scared to imagine what he would have been like back in his prime. You feel sorry for anypony that was ever foolish enough to cross him. They didn’t call him ‘Good ‘Ol Brass’ for no reason. Brass Turret. That was his name.

“So, anyway… Like I was sayin’ before…”

He continues to tap his chin in thought. You can clearly tell that what he’s trying to say is on the tip of his tongue. Off to your right, your brother sticks his tongue out and pinches it with his forehooves, mocking your father. That’s not such a good idea. Not good at all.

“Sixty ponies. All sent from the Royal Guard with only one mission—they were sent to face down a force of five hundred griffons and force the enemy back from a civilian hospital to keep its occupants alive.” Your father gives you an all knowing look that fills you with a sense of mystery. It’s almost as if you’re watching some sort of cinematic scene play out before your very eyes as he talks.

Ponies stand at all ends of a courtyard, readying their firearms and preparing for battle. They know that they might die, but they take solace in the fact that they’re going down for a good cause. An army of griffons approach from the north, but each soldier stands his ground. Some even make idle chat, or laugh proudly in the face of the approaching enemy. No matter what happens today, there will be victory. The Royal Guard can accept no less.

You shake your head in confusion. When your father was talking, your vision was literally replaced with a scene of the battle he was describing. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you look back to see your father still telling his story, and your brother pounding his face with his hoof. Something weird is definitely going on here…

“For three days they held their ground, but… the numbers were too great. A squad of sixty was cut down to only fifteen. They wouldn’t last another night, and the enemy knew it. So, the remaining fifteen made a decision. They sent one of their own ahead with the civilians to guide them out, while the rest stayed behind to fight.”

Ponies fall in droves before a hailstorm of bullets. The muzzle flash from all of the firing rifles is nearly a blinding display, but the remaining ponies take solace in that now. They can’t see their comrades being cut down as bone and flesh are torn asunder, and a steady ‘rata-tat-tat’ fills the air. So many bullets… so many bodies.

The blood of fallen comrades and foes alike washes the floor underneath the hooves of the surviving ponies. Still, they stand strong. The sense of urgency and despair makes things quite clear; they cannot let these civilians die, no matter the cost. Griffons retreat from the fight with smug grins on their faces. They care not for the lost. They only know that victory is assured. All that’s left is to regroup, and take the remaining forces out…

You shake your head once again. You look toward your father, who’s still completely enraptured by his story. Something weird is going on here, so you decide to finally speak up.

“Er… Hey, Dad? Sorry to interrupt your story, but are you using your magic again to make it seem more realistic? Because this is really freaking me out.” You frown and look at your father’s horn. It doesn’t seem to be glowing at the moment… “I mean, it’s really disorienting to just suddenly be watching everything happen but not actually be there. I’ve told you that like a million times!”

Your brother and father both stop what they’re doing and look at you like you’re an absolute loon. And this is why you just keep your mouth shut most of the time. Choosing to simply lay back, you close your eyes and listen to the story. That always works when your dad is using his freaky unicorn magic to influence your vision.

“The rest returned to the line, using the bodies of their fallen brothers as cover. While they laid there in the sand, the blood of the broken washed over them. Sand stuck to their wet coats, and covered them like a blanket. It changed them.”

“Uh, Pops? If they were just going to bathe in blood to camouflage themselves, why didn’t they just… bathe in the blood of their enemies? You know, instead of their allies? Seems kinda counterproductive…”

You open your eyes in shock at your brother’s interruption. Flash Sentry retreats as soon as he makes that statement and raises his hooves over his head in reflex. The punch of retaliation never comes—he gets a sharp smack on the muzzle that shuts him right up.

“Boy, why don’t you just let me finish my story for once? Always gotta go interrupting me during the good parts…” Your father, Brass Turret, shakes his head in disappointment.

“Anyway… When the enemy drew near, the remaining fourteen rose from the sand. They were like hunters that couldn’t be seen by the mortal eye, using stealth their enemies couldn’t defend against. When they ran dry of ammunition, they used their blades. When their blades went dull, they used their hooves.”

“But that doesn’t make any—” Flash Sentry is cut off as your father places a hoof sternly on the bottom of his mouth and clenches it shut.

“When the dust settled, only one of the enemy remained. He was picked up in the desert, wandering aimlessly. He told stories of a force so menacing and undefeatable, that it could only be described as supernatural. He called them… ‘Ghosts’.” Your father finishes his tale with a smile and releases Flash’s muzzle.

“So… You mean to tell us that this really happened, Dad?” Flash simply shakes his head and rubs his jaw with a forehoof, trying to work the tension out of it. You smile and look to your father, who is giving you both an all-knowing smirk of near epic proportions.

“So the legend goes.”

“Come on, Dad. You don’t believe that stuff is really true, do you? I mean, fourteen ponies killing off hundreds of griffons on their own? That’s just not possible. I don’t care what kind of stealth you have, it’s just not happening.”

“Well, I believe it happened. Who knows, maybe they had some outside help?” A golden hoof extends outward to you to help you up. Your father pats you on the back and chuckles. “You gotta stop staying up so late, Steel. It’s not good for your health. Anyway, let’s get back to the house.”

You and your brother both nod as you begin to move up the hill and back towards your home. Still, something about the day just seems… off. Glancing around, you find your eyes coming to rest on a tree branch directly in front of you. Just a few more inches and you would’ve smacked yourself in the face. You’d never hear the end of it if that happened.

But those leaves… And that branch. You tilt your head to the left as you examine the branch in curiosity, moving your head closer as you do so. The distinction is quite noticeable now; you could swear that these leaves look fake. Almost like a badly painted watercolor painting done by a kindergartener, or a plastic plant. Come to think of it, the rocks and grass do too. And the wind sounds like someone’s just blowing a large fan into your ears!

Flash and Brass are now halfway up the hill from you, looking back down upon you with concern. You shake your head and take a deep breath, trotting upwards to meet them.

“Uh, Dad? Flash? Do things seem really weird to you today or what? I mean, seriously! Look around us! Doesn’t everything just look bad and…” You tap your hoof against your chin, searching for the right word to describe what you’re seeing. “Pixely?”

They both look at you like you’ve gone absolutely bonkers. Your father even goes so far as to walk over to you and put his forehoof to your head, checking your temperature. He hasn’t done that since you were only seven years old.

“Steel. I want you to tell me the truth. Have you been doing drugs again? Your eyes look all glazed over.”

You take a step back, stuttering. “N-no! I already told you! That was one time! And it wasn’t even me! It was Flash! I thought they were just some weird kind of vitamin or something!” The extreme blush on your face only gets deeper as your father steps away and Flash glares at you.

“Well, no matter. We should probably be getting home. You might be sick or something. Flash? You stay by your brother. Make sure he doesn’t pass out or anything.” Your father begins walking up the hill again.

You simply shake your head and sigh. Could today get any worse? Well, according to the gods of the universe, yes. Yes it can. As you continue to walk, you feel a slight tremor under your hooves, causing you to stumble a bit, as you’re caught off guard in your thoughts. Luckily for you, Flash manages to steady you, but it’s still unsettling. There hasn’t been an earthquake in [insert name] in nearly ten years.

“Woah. Little tremor there. You alright, Steel?” Flash hoists you back up onto your own hooves and looks at you with concern. You simply nod your head absent-mindedly.

“Oh, geeze. Your mother used to hate these things. Nearly scared her half to death!” Your father gives a hearty chuckle as he remembers.

The three of you continue walking, but you only get a few more feet before another tremor occurs. This time it’s much more violent, however. It shakes all three of you and causes you to stumble for a moment. All of you share a look of worry before you begin walking at a faster pace, making sure to avoid loose patches of dirt and rocks on the hill.

“Another one?” Flash’s voice is laced with concern.

You father simply smiles to assure you both. “You know how these things go, Flash. There are always a couple tremors before the dust settles. Maybe we’ll get a couple more. Who knows?”

Before you can even begin walking again, there’s another tremor, but this time much harder. The entire world seems to vibrate around you with extreme force before stopping suddenly. The wind begins to pick up as well, and as you look to the sky, you swear that you can see a heart shaped missile coming down from the sky.

“D-dad? What’s going on?” You’re now clearly worried. Your father is too, which nearly sends you into full on panic mode. Brass Turret? Nervous? You gulp as your father beckons for you to begin running with him.

“It’s okay, boys. Let’s just hurry back to the house and make sure nothing got damaged.” There’s a tinge of unease behind the normal serene calm of your father’s voice.

Suddenly there’s a blinding flash of orange as the heart shaped missile impacts a house directly in front of you. You and your family burst out into a full on sprint. You hop over a fake looking log blocking your path, though you idly note in the back of your mind that your hind leg just seemed to pass through it. Who cares? There are more important things going on right now. Namely—

“BUCKING EXPLOSIONS? Dad, what the heck is going on?!” Flash looks to your father for guidance as the three of you run through the street, now having arrived in the city. All around you, pandemonium ensues. Families are running, cars are driving into fire hydrants causing torrents of water to spray into the air, and houses spontaneously combust into rainbow fire around you.

A giant rainbow colored laser slams into a house in the distance at an impossible diagonal angle, causing the whole thing to explode into marshmallows and chocolate sauce.

“What the b—”

That’s all you get the chance to say before your father veers off to the right, heading up the slope of the hill. What the heck is he doing? There are explosions!

“Boys, get to the house!”

“But, dad, what’s goin—” Your father interrupts you as he points you up the hill.

“Celestia on a stick, this ain’t an earthquake boy! Get to the house, both of you! I’ll get the carriage and meet you up there!” He looks to the sky as more rainbow fury begins to descend. The screams of ponies and some other sort of unidentifiable animal now fill your ears. “Those crazy bastards. It’s the orbital friendship cannon!”

“Wait, Dad! Why are we going to the house? The road out of town is the other way? Why don’t we just hop in the back of one of these carriages that hasn’t left yet?” You watch as your father disappears around the corner.

You hear him call back faintly. “They won’t stop for us! Er… And I forgot the carriage in the Country Club parking lot!”

Before you get a chance to respond, Flash pull you and the two of you begin running. You can’t even tell what’s going on anymore. Ponies are screaming, stuff is blowing up, and fire is sprouting up everywhere. So much at one time, that it’s almost impossible to keep track of.

You rush by the ornate statues at the front of your house before climbing over the cracked out wall. You watch in awe as a large crack in your pool causes it to drain completely, leaving on the glossy sheen of vinyl tiles behind. These are obviously important details for you to note, since they’re just so damn shiny and in your face compared to everything else.

“Come on, Steel! It’s too dangerous out here! We’ve gotta get inside!” Flash calls out to you from the front entrance of your home. As a missile crashes into your side yard, you suddenly aren’t exactly sure what kind of safety your mansion (because you have that, you know) will offer you from a missile.

“Uh, Flash? Are you sure? I mean, I know Dad told us to go inside the house, but I don’t think that’s such a go—”

“It’s too dangerous out here! We’ve gotta get inside!” Flash calls out to you again, still standing next to the front door.

“Yeah, I know, bu—”

“It’s too dangerous out here! We’ve gotta get inside!”

“I get that, bu—”

“It’s too dangerous out here! We’ve gotta get inside!”

You blink twice, swearing that his tone just got more stern. You make your way over to him. Maybe he has a point. Standing outside certainly isn’t going to help you out at all. Still, why is he being so insistent?

”IT’S TOO DANGEROUS OUT HERE! WE’VE GOTTA GET INSIDE!”

“Alright, Flash, I’m ri—”

”IT”S TOO DANGEROUS OUT HERE! WE’VE GOTTA GET INSIDE!”

Before you know it, Flash grabs you and shoves you face first into the door. Mouth open. As your face impacts the ornate doors, you swear that you just swallowed some of the wood. They fling open, and you fall face first into the now open doorway. Flash steps over you with an air of calmness and then proceeds to just stand there.

You stand up, but Flash is still blocking your way. You nudge him, but he doesn’t budge. In fact…

“Dude, get out of the way! You were so urgent for me to get in here that you slammed my face in the door! Now you won’t even let me in? And what’s with this? Have you been working out or something?” You try with all your might, but no matter how hard you try he doesn’t move. It’s like he strapped lead horseshoes on this morning! He doesn’t even appear to be paying attention to you either.

“Uh, hello? Equestria to Flash Sentry! Come on, man, let’s hustle!”

Still no response. You reach a hoof upward and tap him on the back of his head. As soon as you do, he bucks you in the shin as hard as he can. You fall to your forelegs as you hear bone snap, and excruciating pain flows through you. A cry of anguish escapes your lips as he leans over your face.

“Friendly fire will not be tolerated!”

“AGH! What the hay, dude? You just broke my leg! Now how’re we gonna get out of here?!” You clasp your broken leg in pain as you whimper.

Flash opens your eyelids with his free hoof and holds them open. Before you even have a chance to ask what he’s doing, he pulls out a jar of what appears to be strawberry jelly and uncaps it. He slathers some on a hoof and begins to move towards your eyeballs.

“I got just the thing for this! Magical healing jelly!” Flash slaps the jelly all over your eyeballs. Suddenly your vision is filled with red, and you can feel chunks of strawberry pulp at the corner of your eyes. It’s more like jam than anything.

“I CAN’T SEE! GAH, IT BURNS! I CAN TASTE THE STRAWBERRIES THROUGH MY RETINAS!”

You thought you were in pain before? That’s nothing compared to the pain you feel when the magic jelly gets absorbed into your eyeballs through magic osmosis (because that’s a thing!!!!), and every single bone snaps back into its proper position within the span of seconds. The howl that escapes your lips can only be described as unearthly.

“Oop! Looks like you need more healing jelly! Coming right up!”

“Wait! No, ple—”

You get another hooffull of jelly right in the eyes.

“IT BURNS! IT BURNS!!!”

Flash grabs you by the neck and drags you as you thrash about in pain. All around, the house is shaking in its foundations and look like it may be about to collapse. Not that you notice. The only thing you can see is all of that strawberry jelly in your eyes. Mmm… The taste of pure pain.

Finally, as you reach the back door, the jelly fades from your eyes with a sharp stinging sensation. You stand up and rub them. Flash seems to be waiting by the doors, beckoning for you to come join him.

“Dude? After what you just did? I need to go wash my eyes out so that I can actually see!”

You turn to walk away, but the ways to the kitchen are blocked by some sort of fire. You move to the left. The fire moves with you. You move to the right. The fire turns that way as well. In fact, it looks the same from all sides!

“What kind of weird fire is this? What’s going on? Why is everything so weird?”

Flash grabs you and puts you right next to the door. “Come on, help me open this!”

“Okay, but I really think I should—”

“Help me open it!”

Shaking your head, you brace yourself against the door and sigh. No use arguing. In one… two… You and Flash both push forward at the same time and the doors burst open. Everything fades to white, and you feel yourself drifting away...

Everything is black. Wait a minute; no it’s not. There are lots of little pinpricks of light. Why do you feel so light? And what the hell is this thing compressing you? You see other floating ponies. Holy balls! You’re in SPACE! Wait? How the—

“Hey, you!” A voice calls. “Get the buck over here.”

“Um, how?” The thirty-two meters between you is nothing but empty air—er, space.

The voice, a feminine one, sighs in frustration. “Are you daft?”

“What”

“You’ve a rocket pack, moron; use yours.”

You look down and see something down by your waist which looks a lot like a gaming joystick, with a red button on the top, and a trigger below the head. You tilt it forwards, and you float across with your rocket pack. On your way down or over or whatever, you see Equestria. And there are Afghneignistan, and Zebricy, and Chechneya with The Zone inside it, and Griffiya, and Miền Sói. You’d better shut up and stop naming countries now. It’s getting annoying.

“Seriously, Ramirez, how do you even remember to breathe?” First doom falls from the sky, then you’re in space, and now you’re named Ramirez! What the buck!? “Follow me,” she says, floating towards a nearby space station a short distance away. You follow her lead and fire your retrorockets to stay on course, because you remember that there is no friction in space, so the only way to slow down or steer is to use your propulsion to fire opposite to the direction you wish to go.

You want answers, so you try to get some. “Um, exactly what’s all this stuff again, and why is it here?”

The mare groans again before explaining it to you. “This orbital defense grid was built because The Federation posed a threat to Equestria. We have dozens of kinetic rods on the four platforms, which can all deliver a devastating strike against a chosen city. Why, if you were hit by it, all’d you notice would be a bright flash, followed by the ground crumbling like a really fat guy sat on it.”

“Aren’t their treaties against this kind of shit?”

“Who cares? It’s awesome. Pity it’s never been used, though.”

Wait a minute. Bright flash -- crumbling ground… this was the thing that hit you before you ended up here! Which means… For Celestia’s sake, you’ve accidentally time traveled, again! And this time, you’re right in the middle of a right wing, military speculative fiction fantacist’s wet dream.

You see a complex of space stations, all looking liked spoked donuts with OFC written on them. Great, you think, misappropriated mythology. Hey, at least you’re in the airlock now. There is a few seconds and then it opens to reveal the interior of a space station. You follow your guide along. It doesn’t hurt that she’s also a cute mare with a nice plot, unlike whatever the hell it is you’re living through.

You drift across the central hub, full of other drifting Equestrian ponies, with the mare talking at you the whole whole way. Does she ever shut up? You dub her, Gabby Gums. Gabby Gums and you drift towards a second intersection. You hear sound chattering, almost like firecrackers. You shouldn’t be able to hear this in space. Then, you see little green darts zip across the hub, followed by dead ponies floating by. One, with it’s last breath, closes the window, separating you from the ruckus.

Two Griffons appear, wearing spacesuits and wielding AK-106’s “Pochemu zhe my tut?” One asks.

The other one roars back, “Potomu cho pisatel’ jeto syn shlyuhi, kotoryj lyubit’ lovit’ vafli.” Then he opened fire on the window, but the 5.45x39mm rounds were too weak to do anything more than create spiderweb cracks across the panel.

Paralyzed, you open your mouth. “What was that about flying di--”

“No time!” Shouts Gabby Gums, grabbing you and making a beeline away from the murderous griffons. You race to an airlock, and fly out into space, seeking shelter in the next space station.

You hear a panicked voice on the radio. “This is mission control! The Federation has hacked the orbital platforms, and are launching the weapons, preset to target Equestrian cities.” You see the gigantic spears hanging from the stations below you drop away and hurtle towards the planet below like enormous, metallic, destructive, flying dicks.

Why the buck did we design weapons of mass destruction, make them ludicrously easy to fire, and then point them at ourselves!?

Mission control freaks out, “Bombs away! Words twice, bombs away! Any personnel who can respond, get to the control center on platform two an abort the launch!”

“Ramirez, abort the launch!” You tail Gabby Gums, shooting across to the next space station. You get into the airlock. WIthin seconds, it cycles, and you enter the station. It’s a tangle of astronauts.You follow Gabby Gums, because there’s apparently nopony else in the entire operation more qualified than you to abort the strikes. You hear gunfire and see a struggling pony hurtle towards you. He’s bleeding, the blood forming red spheres. Suddenly, a griffon slams right into you, assault rifle in hand.

He tries to get a bead on you, but you grab the weapon by the forend and wrestle against him, the both of you hugging around the poor, injured pony.You find that you’re stronger than you remember being, because a lifetime of video games and marathons of reality shows, haven’t done your muscles much good. It’s a desperate struggle, but you wrench the gun away from the griffon, and take control of it. You’ve never fired a weapon or killed before, but those seem like petty concerns today, considering the WMD’s, body hopping, and time travel. You fire three times and then push both him and the pony aside, only to find yourself face to face with an armed Gabby Gums. “Where were you,” you demand, “when I needed you?”

She snaps, “Ramirez, be faster next time -- hurry up!” You follow her. You see a group of griffon space marines float across the hub. “Ramirez, take ‘em down!”

Ramirez, do everything. You aim down the sights of your AK-106 and squeeze the trigger, hosing down the fireteam. Your gun runs dry. You reach down, and for some weird reason, you find a fresh magazine ready. How does this even… You reload, completing the maneuver just as you reach the control room, just in time to see several of the flying dicks spontaneously go off course to either shank godzilla or burn up. I didn’t even do anything. Dafuq.

“Well done!” Mission control cheers. “But platform four isn’t responding; you have to scuttle it manually.”

You wordlessly follow Gabby Gums. Is it just me, or am I the only one they have in mind when they’re giving orders? You fly across space again, landing on the top part of the last platform.

Gabby Gums yells, “Shoot it!”

“How does that even make sense?!” You shoot it anyway. It withstands the first few rounds, but it soon proves less durable than an interior glass window, exploding and leaking a plume of flame, which definitely would be completely impossible in space. You aren’t holding onto the platform, but Gabby Gums is, but now both of you seem to be falling towards the planet.

“Platform scuttled. Good work. Saved a lot of lives.”

You feel the heat begin to accumulate on you as you continue falling. Oh don’t tell me… You think, This shouldn’t be physically possible. Fire before reentry into the atmosphere comes out of nowhere, shrouding you, the platform, and Gabby Gums. Everything is fading to white. Oh great, and I get a bullshit reward, too. You know that the fade to white means you’re dead. At least you aren’t being made to read some antiwar quote this time.

You stumble out of the front door and scream as loudly as you can. Whatever is going on around you at this moment in time does not matter. All that matters is that you just became a freaking space marine, blew shit up for no reason, and died. And now you’re… alive? You rub your hooves all along your body in an effort to make sure that you’re actually alive and this isn’t some kind of illusion. The feeling of your hoof rubbing against your fur confirms that you are indeed alive.

Well, that and the huge rainbow explosion that goes off right in your face, blowing your mane back and yet still somehow not knocking you over. The entire portion of suburban neighborhood in front of you begins to fracture and actually crumble.

“What the buck?! Since when can one missile cause the earth to split apart?!” You stare in disbelief as the world opens up into a black abyss. The abyss seems to stare at you, mocking you with its presence. One thing’s for sure: you aren’t goin—

“Come on! This way!” Flash runs forward, jumping back and forth gracefully between platforms and using his wings to guide him.

“W-what?! Are you insane? I’m not going that way! I’m not even a pegasus!”

“Come on! We need to get to the truck! Quick!” He continues running, but you’re frozen in the middle of the cracking ground in fear.

“WAIT FOR ME! HOW WILL A CARRIAGE EVEN HELP US WITH THIS SITUATION AT ALL?!” You tip-toe as fast as you can across the depressions in the earth, praying to Celestia that the universe won’t decide that today is your unlucky day.

“Just keep runnin’!” Flash yells to you as he continues to take off down the collapsing street. You follow him. Who the buck are you to disagree with the angry earth behind that’s trying to eat you?

“Flash! Wait a minute! Please! I can’t keep up, jus— Oh buck. Oh buck.” You look to your right from where you saw that missile strike earlier. Out of the ruins of a house, some sort of creature seems to be emerging. Something about it upsets and unnerves you, sending a chill down your spine. It almost looks like a…

Oh no. Celestia, please no. Why today? Why today of all days?!

The honey badger leaps at you like a cougar and pushes you down. You make several attempts to push him off, but he’s honey badger and he don’t give a fuck. He pulls a bottle of liquid nitrogen out of this air and pours it all over your throat, causing it to freeze. He positions his foot above your throat, ready to strike, and—

“Get off of my son you freak of nature!” Your father arrives with the carriage and rushes forward, smacking the badger in the face. It runs away because your father is the king of brass balls. “You okay, son? Did he hurt you?”

Seriously? Is he serious?

The sheer absurdity of the situation overwhelms you and you try to scream. Too bad for you, because your vocal chords are frozen solid, and the heavy vibrations do more harm than good. You feel something deep within your throat snap, and instantly you regret your decision.

“He’s not answering, Dad! I’ll go get the healing jelly!” Flash rushes off to go rummage through the carriage.

“Here, lay down. I’m gonna put you in the back of the carriage. Just stay with me, Steel. Hold on!” Your father leans over you with concern in his eyes. Neither of them seems to be paying any heed to the explosions around you anymore.

In the back of the carriage. You mean like I suggested at the very beginning?!

You begin to cry as you see Flash approaching and sticking his hoof out towards your eyeballs eagerly. What a day. All you wanted to do was venture outdoors for once and spend some quality bro time with your family. Now everything’s exploding, things are on fire, your eyes burn, and you’ll never be able to speak again.

It sure does suck to be chosen as this year’s Call to Duty protagonist.