"Are we- are we filming?" a male voice asked in the darkness, his voice laced with an edge of boredom. A small spark conjured, illuminating the darkness, until it faded into a dull red of a cigarette. A tobacco smoke filled the air as the guest puffed a few times before lowering the smoldering fag. "I hope you don't mind if I smoke, do ya?"
A machine switched on, illuminating the room with a light. A single, armored pony tinkered with the video camera, attempting to increase the light's intensity. He twisted a few more screws before finally giving up, turning around to sit in the steel-reinforced chair. He rested his armored elbows on the table, his power armor whirring and clinking as he fidgeted. Before him was the Enclave's special guest, who had went against all expectations and accepted their invitation. A powerful guest. Neither human, ghoul, or mutant.
A god.
The man before him, or what appeared to be a man, smoked his vintage cigarette. Donning a King leather jacket, neatly combed brown hair and mustache, and leathery wings protruding from his backside gave him a meta-human appearance. Not exactly uncanny in a world filled with deadly, radioactive monsters, but enough to give the stallion chills in his heavy armor. The human may lacked the size many abominations held, but the pony could feel the power radiating from across the room. Regardless, it was time to start the interview.
The Enclave stallion cleared his throat. "Hello, and welcome to the Enclave, Mister..."
"Anonymous."
The Enclave stallion cocked his head. "Anonymous."
"Yes, Anonymous. Is there a problem?" The man learned forward onto the table, resting his cheeks against his hand. His porcelain skin shimmered in the dim light, attributing to his divine quality. Electricity crackled in his fingertips, begging to be released.
The stallion gulped as his brow began to sweat beady drops of fear. "No, sir. It's just that... you're a god."
The man chuckled and leaned back, crossing his arms and placing his polished, posh brown shoes on the white table. "So? I can't be interviewed anonymously? Mortal, my true name strikes fear into the hearts of my enemies. If I dare utter it in this room, you will shit yourself."
The stallion scoffed. Even if the man before him was a god, he couldn't be that horrifying. He knew the legends, of course, but even a god couldn't have that effect. "Pft, try me."
The man uttered his name.
The stallion shit himself.
"So, how's Woona doing? I hear the Fountain of Youth is doing her well."
The stallion's ears fell flat as a rotten odor filled the room, ignoring the man's quip completely. He slunk back in his chair as his suit began to asphyxiate him in his shame. "Uh, moving on Mister Anonymous. Would you mind telling me a bit about yourself?"
Anonymous grinned with his pearly whites, his red eyes sparkling with deep hues and magic. "Well, the other day I was just napping on a cloud when some letter came out of nowhere, bonks me on the head, and wakes me up for the first time in a thousand years. I'm a curious fellow; it comes with the immortal package."
"Cloud?" the stallion inquired. The radioactive clouds in the dry sky weren't nearly moist enough for the pegasi, how would he even-
"Mushroom cloud, from the war," the man finished, snickering. "Oh boy, do I miss those days. War, heroes, and victory. Those were the days, those were the days."
"Right..." The stallion tapped the desk, trying to ignore the toxic smell in the air. It was time to move on before the god got bored. "Tell me about the old days, your beginnings and journeys. Shed a little light on these legends, if you wouldn't mind, Anonymous."
"Well," -the man leaned forward- "it started in another world, another place. A place full of humans, as my current form is modeled after. You know the story, there isn't much to tell. It's just like any other origin story. We got hit by monster trucks in a pep rally, died via a freak meteor that feel from the sky, and some lightning struck our graves and caused an inter-dimensional rip in space-time and resurrected as alicorn princesses."
"Alicorn princesses," the stallion deadpanned as he stared at the obviously male human in front of him. "Princesses."
"Yes, princesses." The man's fingers tapped the table in mock impatience. He scratched his cheek, contemplating the past. "My friends, there used to be four of them, accompanied me on our strange journey. It was strange at first, being mares and all. The fact we had hooves, or that sentient ponies ruled the world we now resided in. It was odd, but we adapted. We lived our new lives in peace at first. At first."
The stallion gulped as electricity flickering in the man's fingertips began to burn the table, causing the wood to smolder. "T-then what happened?"
The man grimaced, painful memories apparent in his eyes. "Everything was perfect: ponies frolicked and fell in love, the occasional villain was defeated and redeemed, and even the humans were accepted into royalty. But everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked."
"The Fire Nation?"
"YES!" the man roared as he slammed his fists against the table, creating a splitting fissure underneath that threatened to destroy the table. "Those damn dragons attack with their flames, their weapons, and their tyranny! We fought back, of course, but not everypony was immortal like us. Mares, stallions, warriors, heroes, and even the children were laid to waste!" The man held his face and cried into his palms, driving pity into the Enclave stallion's heart. "W-we had no choice. We had to do it."
A rock dropped inside the stallion's stomach.
"The Conversion Bureau."
The man sat up and adjusted his leather jacket, popping his collar as well. "It was an ambitious and daring idea. We had long ago figured out to create 'Moongates' into other worlds, and to shift form as well, but we couldn't leave Equestria behind. Not just yet. We formed a Bureau for citizens' conversions. We began to transfer, train, and convert human recruits to aid us in our war in return for magical knowledge. At first, it began to work. The tide of the war started to change. We started to win our battles, to drive the vile dragons back. And then it happened."
"What happened?" the stallion asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.
"We realized something." The human blinked with his sparkling red eyes. "Everyone we actually cared about died."
"Oh." The stallion leaned back, relating to that. Ever since he left Stable #908132, his family members began to drop like flies. "Then what happened?"
The man shrugged, his lack of care apparent. "So then we were like, 'Fuck this shit.' We just used some magic and bombed the place. And now we're here!"
The stallion choked in shock. "WAIT! That was y-"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The man checked his watch, turning off the alarm in the process. He glanced at the stallion, an amused glint in his eyes, and grinned. "Whelp, it looks like an exact thousand years have passed. It's my turn!"
The stallion, stuttering in shock, tried to say something but a bright flash in front of him beat him to it.
Discord, the legendary draconequus of chaos, sat on the table, his head reaching the ceiling. In front of him was a chessboard, which he was currently pondering. He moved his lion paw over a rook and moved it three spaces to his right. On the other side of the board was a pegasus, a mare without a single speck of dirt on her blue fur.
"Wha-" the stallion stuttered.
"Discord!" Anonymous roared, standing up with fire forming in his palms. "You're cheating on me? I thought we had something!"
Discord shrugged as the mare took her turn, moving her bishop to trap his king in unison with her knight and queen. "Hah, I win! Cloudkicker is wiiiiinning!"
Author's Note
Obvious parody.
