Author's Note

Well, it's been a while.
But I did finish this chapter. To date, it's the longest chapter of the story. It will also remain as such.
As it were, this chapter also marks the apex of the story line - the climax. The remaining two chapters will contain the resolution, while a final Epilogue will place the entire thing in a context.
For those of you who might be interested, this chapter is actually based almost completely on the 2600+ word draft document I created when I first thought up this story.
On a final note, as of Chapter 14 (this chapter) 'Born of Rage's rating has officially been changed to M.
The reason for this is primarily because I made the mistake of allowing one of my nieces to read the chapter as it neared completion and it physically upset her. As it stands, the M rating is more there as a reminder that this story is incredibly violent and one of the more graphic pieces I've created.
Aside from that, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Art work will be posted at some point in the future, and perhaps another chapter in the far future. In all honesty the final chapters will probably be short - circa 3000+ words each; I've pretty much gotten the body of it out of the way.
Stay tuned, ja?

Blackest Day

Ponyville was little more than a sea of flames – vermillion waves crashed across one another in a turbulent frenzy. The air was swelteringly hot, the rain doing little to quench the fires that had taken hold of the small hamlet. The din of crackling wood and popping embers all but overpowered the ambient sounds of the wind and rain that lashed so violently across the landscape. But for those poor souls who now found themselves trapped within this roaring hell, none of this compared to the sight before them.

There, wreathed in laurels of smoke and fire, striding in triumph through the blazing fields that he had sown, stood Gho'Zra. For many thousands, he was nothing short of the end of their world. The ringing of Church bells carried across the hellscape, their frantic chiming only emphasizing the calamity for those who still had ears to hear them. With an unearthly silence that was so far removed from his surroundings, the Herald of Calamity calmly surveyed his work with a sense of finality.

For untold minutes the beast simply stood and observed as the flames arose ever higher to consume every single structure still standing. Then, with a poised fluidity of movement, the gargantuan beast turned away from the doomed town and began his final ascent towards the gleaming city on the hill far above. From the burnt husk of her former home, Twilight Sparkle stood transfixed by the beast as it made to leave. She had taken shelter in the subterranean basement of her library when the commotion had started, but it was her eternal curiosity that had lured her outside.

Finally, she knew once and for all the being that had killed her beloved brother. Finally she knew once and for all the beast that had killed her Midnight Sovereign. Now she knew the truth of the monster that seemed dead-set on destroying her entire civilization. Tears flowed unknowingly down her face; it was all so very tragic - how the end had come. But her mourning was cut short when, from out of the flames came a trio of figures – their battered bodies and singed, soot-stained hides making for a pitiful sight.

She immediately recognized two of them as being Cats, and she felt fairly certain that the third one was a Toad. But oh, what a terrible sight they made! They hadn’t seen her yet, and they were all but screaming to one another over the roar of flame. One of them (a giant of a cat if ever there was one) was clearly either unconscious or in some sort of trance, and the other two were no doubt trying to get him to come to his senses. Realizing that she could be of some help to these men, she quickly shouted out, “Over here!” With a start they all three cast their eyes upon her.

For his part, Bubbi Plüschaar could scarcely believe his eyes. There, beside the mighty oak tree that so dominated the surrounding townscape (now little more than blackened charcoal), stood a Pferdlander with both horn and wings. What’s more, she was motioning for them to come to her (at least he assumed it was a she – it was hard to tell with Pferdlanders). Casting a wary glance to Theodore, the young Cat came to a silent agreement with his amphibian comrade. With hobbled steps, the two of them hurriedly dragged the still shell-struck Hermann along. As they finally reached the great tree-house, the violet-hued horse quickly ushered them inside.

As she finally got a good look at them, she had to fight the bile that rose from her gullet – one of them (the Toad) had only one good eye; the other was nothing but a gaping socket of oozing viscera. The younger of the two Cats didn’t look too worse for wear; a few singed patches of fur and a notched ear were the only damage she could make out. But the poor man that the two of them were supporting was in a sorry state indeed. He was clearly concussed, and the ragged way in which he breathed was clear indication of broken ribs. Coming to a snap decision she ordered, “Take him downstairs and put him on the work bench.”

At this point, pride didn’t factor into anything they did anymore. Both Bubbi and Theodore quickly complied with the purple pony’s demand. Making their way into the basement of the great arbor, the two of them were only slightly shocked at just how large and cluttered the subterranean chamber truly was. With a grunt of effort, the two of them managed to haul the hulking form of Oberstabsfeldwebel Kühn onto the cold metal table that constituted Twilight’s work bench; the Maine Coon’s large form was such that his legs dangled over the edge.

In a moment of lucidity, Hermann exclaimed, “Spitzer – where is Spitzer?” Theodore tried to placate his commander by responding, “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” Turning aside, he quietly asked Bubbi, “Was there any sign of the Hauptmann when you found him?” Furrowing his singed brow, Gefreiter Plüschaar slowly shook his head as he replied, “No – I couldn’t see much of anything past the smoke and flames; but if I were to guess, he’s more than likely dead.” Casting a wary glance towards the still delusional Oberstabsfeldwebel, Theodore muttered, “It’d be best to make sure before coming to any definitive conclusion.” The two of them silently agreed with one another.

They quickly halted their conversation the minute Twilight Sparkle made her way down the steps. Though she couldn’t understand what they had been saying, she was intuitive enough to catch on to the fact that they were leery of her. Deciding to cut to the chase, she began in saying, “I need one of you to hold his legs while the other keeps his shoulders steady; I’m going to apply a wrap to his chest.” Again, the two soldiers seemingly transmitted a silent message between each other as they hesitantly nodded their consent.

As the three of them began their ministration of the larger Cat, Twilight could not hold back the wave of curiosity that engulfed her. She had to ask, “Are you the only ones left?” With a scoff, the younger Cat exclaimed in a halting rendition of her language, “No – more survive; orders are to be falling back to mountainside… we being cut off from rest by fire.” The Toad then spoke up, asking, “What of you?” Absentmindedly wrapping the linen roll around Hermann’s chest, she mumbled, “I’ve been stuck down here all night; I only recently managed to open the cellar doors.”

As the last of the bandages were applied, the three of them came to the unanimous decision that they were best off waiting the fires out in the relative safety of the underground. Meanwhile, the fires above them only seemed to rage hotter as storm-winds grew stronger. Those few ponies that had volunteered to remain were now frantically attempting to fight the conflagration alongside those soldiers of the Reich who had been severed from their comrades…

The once scenic eastern slope of the mountain was now little more than a quagmire of mud and soot. Half-finished trenches and hastily improvised fox-holes were quick to fill with torrential runoff – some men had even drowned. They were considered fortunate by those who remained. Through the thick mire of the rain could be seen the flash of a thousand rifles, the blossoming flame of a hundred cannons and the splintering light of a nigh-unbelievable amount of ordnance! This cacophony of flashing fire was held in stark contrast to the black of the midnight storm – the air filled with a visual vertigo made manifest!

The thundering echo of a colossal footfall reverberated across the earth and into the souls of all those who had made their stand upon the rugged slope. The drumbeat of the Great Destroyer’s advance was like nothing to compare – sheer, overpowering might clearly emanated from the tremulous rocking of the earth. High overhead, Gho’Zra stood at the center of their world; his power unmatched in the eyes of those lowly mortals below him. Yet even a gnat, when left alone, can climb into the eye and cause distress.

Such was the plan of Hauptmann Jerolus Kym and the men under his command. From the prow of his Käfer[1], the Horned Toad gave the order, “Drive alongside it – I want to have a clear shot!” The exceptionally brave young Gila Monster at the helm of the vehicle simply nodded and proceeded to close rank with the terrifying beast, no more than a stone-throw away from its immense foot! Narrowly avoiding a chunk of shrapnel as it whizzed overhead, Kym swiveled the halftrack’s pintel mounted floodlight and unleashed a blinding beam straight into the monster’s malevolent red eyes!

With a grunt of discomfort, Gho’Zra all but stumbled as he tried to turn away from the annoying stimuli. The piercing sting of his unprepared eyes was like a vice upon his optic nerve. With a shake of his horrific head the beast tried to escape the blinding glare that assailed him. Oddly enough, the blinding light did go away, though not from any of the creature’s own effort. From his place astride the Käferwagen Hauptmann Kym switched off the flood light before grasping ahold of his personal mark flare[2] . Hoisting the pistol over his head, the Horned Toad popped off a brilliant orange ball of incandescence for all of the world to see!

Naturally, the behemoth was quick to notice the flare, and from there he came to notice the small metal contraption from which it had been spawned. No sooner had it lain eyes upon its quarry that Gho’Zra’s vision was assaulted once more by the resplendent light. There was no doubt in its mind who the perpetrator was this time! From below, Jerolus manually created a strobe effect with the light, all the while trying to maintain his aim upon the beast’s eyes as the Käferwagen juked left and right over the muddy terrain.

Turning once more to his driver, Hauptmann Kym shouted over the din of war, “Head for pit number six – let’s see if we can’t lure this thing into a minefield!” Again, the driver proved beyond brave as he simply nodded his ascent and made a sharp turn towards the nearest pit trap. Looking back towards their pursuer, Jerolus could only swear at how close it had gotten in only a few strides – the distance was closing and they were already going at maximum speed. With a renewed fervor, the Horned Toad started frenetically flashing the high-beam light into the beast’s eyes, if only in the hopes of disorienting it.

As the piercing synthetic light struck his pupils, Gho’Zra could only squint in a vain attempt to maintain vision. With a growl of frustration, the great Leviathan decided to lash out in his tormentor’s general direction. With a great roar, the scion of doom hoisted his mighty columnar leg before crashing it down upon the earth. Such was the force behind the blow that the earth around him cracked and splintered into a spider web of broken stone and jettisoned mud! The resounding crack of thunder that screamed out across the sky did little to cover the unholy rumble of displaced earth!

As its vision finally cleared, Gho’Zra could scarcely suppress the grim satisfaction it felt at the sight of the now overturned and smoldering vehicle. With slow, deliberate steps the behemoth moved to crush the vexatious little machine beneath his heel. From inside the smoldering wreck, Hauptmann Kym managed to drag his mangled body out of his cupola. He didn’t need to look to see that his legs were now missing – he could feel himself slowly bleeding out. The attack had been so sudden, so overwhelming; it had physically thrown the car into the air before flipping a half dozen times and finally coming to rest in the minefield.

In his mind he knew that his options were limited to two: either bleed to death, or go out fighting. Jerolus could only smirk as he feebly muttered, “Those are my kind of odds.” The ground shuddered violently as the Great Calamity took yet another step towards him. Lazily fumbling for the communicator he’d habitually worn around his neck, the Horned Toad pressed the transceiver and in a casual voice relayed, “This is Hauptmann Kym of scouting squad nine, requesting a Donnerschlag on minefield six – look for placement flare, over.” With a shiver, he fecklessly dropped the device. It was getting cold. With his last ounce of strength the Hauptmann raised his flare pistol and fired. Darkness overtook him.

The vermilion gleam of the emergency flare screamed high into the air for all to see, just as the enormous monstrosity’s foot came down full force into the trap. The resultant explosion of a score of mines detonating at once beneath its foot was titanic in its breadth, rocking the whole of the mountainside. With a wail of surprise the reptilian colossus stumbled and fell headlong into the great pit, his immense form flailing as it fell, triggering further explosions which only seemed to intensify in destructive power! From the walls of Canterlot, Oberst Mittens beheld the spectacle with a grim determination. Turning back to his Funkertruppe, the grizzled old cat gave the order, “Set up another Donnerschlag on pit six, grid point 057 295.”

As the radio operators rapidly relayed the command, Mittens could only look on in fear of what he’d sent so many young boys to face in his stead. The beast was already beginning to pick itself up from the thoroughly smoking hole it had found itself in. With a wary frown upon his whiskered face, the Oberst prudently asked, “What is the status on our Railway Guns?” Holding a paw to his headset, one of the Funkers (a slightly heavyset Manx) responded, “All three Railguns have relocated to defense track two -Guns ‘Hummer’ and ‘Faust ’ are fully prepped; Railgun ‘Brecher’ reports three minutes and closing until ready, Herr Oberst.” Nodding in understanding, Mittens then relayed his next command, “Order ‘Hummer’ and ‘Faust’ to fire at will – have ‘Brecher’ fire as soon as is convenient.”

From across the mountainside, from within the great city and amidst the surrounding forests there arose an indescribably titanic uproar that shook the very air and drowned out even the mighty storm clouds overhead as a thousand guns unleashed a torrent of smoke and flame that, for a split second, lit up the night as if it were brightest day! From the distance came the almighty report of the Railway Cannons as they added their own lot to the mix – the massive shells they loosed breaking the very atmosphere asunder as they flew across the sky and towards their target! To say that it was an impressive display of power would have been an understatement!

And it was this hail of munitions that met Gho’Zra even as he righted himself, engulfing him in a brilliant blossom of hellfire and the stink of Sulphur, exploding outward into a veritable garden of destruction, the crashing din of which all but snuffed out the elements which oversaw the great conflict! Then the Earth Breakers landed! Like a geyser welling up from below, there arose a mighty stream of earth and stone that rocketed forth from the blazing inferno, still smoking and rising only ever higher as if to escape the very atmosphere! Silence seemed to rain as the blaze subsided, with even the rain being brought to pause.

The minutes crawled on like hours for those who stood in awe of what they had just witnessed. As they peered through the rain and into the shroud of smoke and steam, they could only hold their collective breaths in hope and fear of what might rise from within. That was when the ‘Brecher’ finally fired, as if to have its final say of it all! With a resounding explosion the billowing crater was further punished as the shockwave of the great shell physically displaced the air around it, knocking men flat and rattling both the earth and the sky. For many, there could be no question – nothing could possibly survive that!

From his position in a muck-filled trench on the desolate mountainside, Leopold Lachespringer nearly swallowed his cigar at the awe inspiring attack. With wide eyes and no small amount of anticipation, the Toad could only wonder at it all; in all of his years as an elite soldier of the Reich, he had never seen such a thing as had just befallen the great beast – truly, if Gho’Zra survived this, then there was absolutely no stopping it, ever. This thought was repeated across the entire mountainside as the smoke finally began to dissipate beneath the weeping skies. Gravity seemed to finally take action, as all across the battlefield there came the pattering of falling earth and stone, from miniscule pebbles to boulders as big as a tank!

However, none of this seemed to matter to those men who were caught out in the open beneath such a deadly downpour, for there, standing in a great blackened crater stood the most horrifying thing they had ever before seen in their lives. He was still standing. Charred earth fell from his craggy hide, whisping tendrils of steaming rain seemed to spindle forth from his very form, as did copious amounts of oozing blood made thick by the heat and pressure as it slowly ran from his wounds like the sap of a freshly cut tree, but he was standing nonetheless! Eyes closed and face set into a horrid grimace, Gho’Zra stood like some ancient god of wrath born from the festering wound of the earth!

Slowly, very slowly, the gargantuan creature opened his blazing red eyes. As his wounds finally closed up, and as the rain cleansed the last of the soot and mud from his body, he reared his head back and bellowed forth his challenge to the very heavens themselves – a noise that struck at the deepest, most primordial fear of every man, woman and child who heard it. It was now his turn. With a deep, almost mechanical whine the grotesque spines upon his back began to glow a scalding white as he took in a breath that expanded his chest two-fold. Whirling towards the nearest concentration of troops, he spewed forth all of his vituperative hatred of the world into a genocidal ray of destruction that raked across the land in a spectacular burst of heat and light, vaporizing all who feel beneath it!

Like a spark to fuel, the effects were immediate; the lines broke – men of all ranks and stature began breaking out in every direction, just to get away from this thing! Major Lachespringer was no different – he held no qualms over retreating before overwhelming odds. Making a run for a nearby stand of timbers, the battle hardened Toad had only just ventured a dozen or more meters from the trenches when a massive wave of pressure flipped him into the air before he landed hard upon his back onto a pile of overturned earthen rubble, knocking the wind from his lungs and concussing the back of his skull.

Vision swimming, the Sturmtrupper was only vaguely aware of the outside world – the ringing of his ears was an eerie contrast to the muffled and often muted ruckus going on around him. Lifting his hand in front of his face, he was confused to see not the usual five fingers but perhaps fifteen or twenty! Slowly turning his head to the left, he detachedly observed some hapless soldier running across his vision – his entire body was alight with ravenous flames that swiftly consumed his skin. Turning to his right, Leopold lazily observed the massive figure of Gho’Zra as it continued its tirade against the world. That was when the familiar face of one of his fellow squad mates, Erste Leutnant [3] Spiffy Ulnz came into view.

While Leopold could hear the young Calico’s muffled voice, he was finding it difficult to comprehend what it was Spiffy was saying. For some reason his vision was beginning to wander, and it took the Leutnant slapping him lightly upon the cheek for him to refocus. Like the rushing torrent of a mighty river the sounds of the outside came crashing in upon his awareness, just in time for him to hear Leutnant Ulnz scream, “-- to get up now – get up now, Major, or you are going to die out here!” Rapidly blinking his eyes, the Toad mumbled, “I’ve got to get up – I’m up; I’m getting up!” With words of encouragement, the young Cat managed to help the Major to his feet, quickly guiding him towards the stand of trees once more.

From high upon the walls, Oberst Mittens stood aghast at such destruction! Working his mouth open and close in a gob smacked manner, the distraught Cat finally managed to impassionedly exclaim, “Fall back to the next line of defense and have all available batteries switch to T-300 ordnance!” As the message was relayed across the air waves, Mittens had to fight back the urge to weep over what he’d just done. These men – no – these boys were under his command. They were his responsibility and they were fighting in his stead; their deaths were on his head, and the thought of so many mothers who would grieve the loss of their sons and husbands because of what he was about to do was a soul straining burden that he sorely wished were not his own. He felt so old.

His thoughts were interrupted by something he’d never wanted to hear from his Funkertruppe; one of the radio operators literally yanked his headset off and exclaimed, “What in the hell was that?” Turning towards them, the Oberst’s dread only increased as another of the Funkers replied, “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s on all channels and wreaking havoc with the bandwidth.” The spectacled Ferret from before turned at last towards the Oberst and hurriedly explained, “Herr Oberst, communications are down due to outside interference – something or someone is using the same radio band as us and they’ve--" He was interrupted as a Badger in the group exclaimed, “I’ve got something!”

All eyes were upon him as he frantically adjusted the various knobs and dials in an attempt to get a clearer signal. As the seconds passed, the tension only mounted as a look of confusion crossed his face. “What is it?” one of them asked. Looking to his equipment, the Badger made a few more adjustments before rubbing his temples in consternation. Finally having had enough of the suspense, Mittens pulled rank and barked out, “Funker Scipio, report what you’ve found.” Snapping back to reality, the poor Radio man hesitantly relayed, “The signal is one of ours, Herr Oberst, but they keep referring to their division as being a Geshcwader [4]."

Before any of them could ponder the implications of this, all attention was drawn back to Gho’Zra, who had gurgled out some sort of deep resonating tone that shook the ground beneath their feet. While chaos and pandemonium reigned all around him, the Harbinger of said destruction was almost death-like in his sudden stillness. Tilting his dead to the side, the beast gave a great shuddering sniff into the air before turning his head to the southwest. What followed was too fast for the naked eye to catch, but were they able, many would have seen the massive lancet construct as it blazed over the treetops and tore through the air beyond the speed of its own noisome path.

Even with his incredible sensory awareness, Gho’Zra had trouble following it. He’d only just heard the unearthly noise in the distance – akin to the roar of a blazing inferno amidst the churning oceans and wrapped beneath the howling of the mightiest of gales. And yet, it was so brief that, he’d almost passed it off as a figment of his own mind. He had only just caught the imperceptible trail of smoking black fire and the subtle glint of starlight upon metal from the corner of his eye when it struck. To everyone else, it was as if, where once there was darkness only a second before, there was now brightest noonday sun! The explosion was so catastrophic that by the time the noise reached everyone’s ears it was already gone – replaced by a massive billowing mushroom of flickering red, glowing vermilion and fading white and gold as it subtly metamorphosed into an inky black pillar of cloud that rose ever higher into the atmosphere!

Not five seconds had passed when the horrific noise, much like a hundred thousand rips and tears all but screamed into one’s ears, finally caught up! In the blink of an eye the monster had disappeared beneath what many could only describe as an Act of God! “Lord Jesus in Heaven,” exclaimed Oberst Mittens, “what was that!?” As if to answer his question, one of his radio operators meekly announced, “Herr Oberst, you’re being hailed on a private frequency[5].” With no small amount of anger, Mittens Von Fleischtauben took hold of the proffered headset and snarled, “Whoever the hell you are, you had best have a damn good explanation as to why you’re fucking with my communications!”

In response, an all too cheerful voice mirthfully replied, “I’m dreadfully sorry about that, Mittsies – it won’t happen again, I swear.” To say he was shocked by the voice on the other end of the line was an understatement as he nearly chocked in surprise. “Hans?” he exclaimed, “What in God’s name are you doing here?” With an air of genuine embarrassment, the Admiral replied, “I’m sorry I couldn’t establish contact with you earlier, Mittens, but the Chancellor was insistent that I not get involved unless it was urgent, you understand.” Of course the Chancellor would do something like this behind his back – conniving old bastard that he was. It was less a problem of the Admiral being there as it was the Oberst being kept out of the loop.

Rubbing a hand down his face out of pure frustration and no small amount of desperation, Oberst Mittens finally exclaimed, “Well, so long as you are here, I’d appreciate your help.” With a smile in his voice, Hans responded, “Anything for you, dearest brother [6].” Before ending the call, Mittens added, “Hans, remember that those are my men out there – you do anything that harms them, you’ll answer to me.” With a laugh, the Admiral happily exclaimed, “I’ll try and keep that in mind, ja?” Handing the headset back to one of the Funkers, Mittens could only look on in the hope that there might be a way to survive this after all…

The rain was slowly starting to abate in its intensity, enough to allow for a plethora of flood lights to pierce down form the heavens and cut through the smoke and debris that was only now beginning to settle. From the ground all manner of soldier and civilian looked on in mild surprise to downright joy – these were reinforcements from the Reich, an entire flotilla of Airships! From the billowing black clouds and out of the darkness of deepest night descended one such Airship, the venerable ‘Pride of Might’, her smooth planar surface seemed wraithlike as the moon momentarily cast its light upon her silken exterior, only to fade like a memory. From her undercarriage were all manner of antennae and beacons, and all along her belly were a dozen or more searchlights that had all honed in on a single point.

That point was directly upon the figure of Gho’Zra, who had only now managed to recover from the staggering explosion that had caught him so unawares. The last vestiges of whatever damage he had taken were quickly stitching themselves closed, and it was no surprise that he was more than angry at this sudden turn of events – the burn he’d felt from that last attack was unlike anything he’d felt before. These creatures were infuriatingly persistent in their attempts to halt his progress! From tiny vermin to metal contraptions, all manner of projectiles and now, of all things, a massive flying beast that even now was descending closer upon him! He’d had enough. With a great and terrible cry he prepared himself for this newest encounter!

As if to answer his challenge, the mighty dirigible’s undercarriage opened up from both sides, revealing hundreds of cylindrical devices in varying sizes, all arrayed upon a latticework of mechanical racks. From her helm, the Captain of the vessel (A Griffon [7] of all things) gave the order to strike. With a mechanical whir, the hydraulically powered bomb racks disengaged, and thousands of kilograms of explosives slowly made their way to the earth in a surreal display of physics. Of all the things Gho’Zra was expecting, this was the furthest from his mind. He was thoroughly unprepared when the first bomb went off directly in front of him. He was even less prepared for the myriad that soon followed. Like a fireworks display from hell the unyielding rain of explosives bombarded the beast with abandon – the heat from the blasts actually drying the muddy earth, such was its intensity!

The bombardment lasted for a full thirty seconds before the last of the bombs finally landed. What emerged from the smoke brought a sliver of hope to the forces of the Reich. The nigh unstoppable titan that had so casually brushed aside everything they’d thrown at it was not only wounded, but had been physically beaten into the earth with such force that it struggled to free itself! This was their chance! From aboard his flagship, ‘Das Schwert der Könige’, Admiral Drücker’s booming voice carried across the helm as he commanded, “Order ground crew to launch Feuerlanze Two as soon as they can!” Turning once more to review the radar feed, Hans softly muttered to himself, “I sure hope this works.”…

Deep within the heart of the south-western expanse of the Everfree stood a row of immense rockets, their brightly painted red surfaces flickering and shimmering beneath the string of light posts that had been erected around the sizeable clearing within which they were housed. Beneath these mighty colossi ran a plethora of tiny figures, dwarfed as they were beneath such massive weapons of war. These were ‘Der Feuerlanzen[8]’, and they represented a new generation of Imperial weapons technology. From his post situated in an earthen mound some two-hundred and fifty meters behind the giant rockets, Oberleutnant Kazzi Shempo listened to the incoming order to fire another Lanze.

Turning to an orderly, the short-set Calico softly spoke, saying, “Please inform team two to begin fire-protocol epsilon immediately – tell them to adjust for wind resistance.” With a nod the newly designated messenger swiftly exited the command compound and made a quick dash to the front of the firing line. Approaching his destination, the young Cat caught the attention of one of the HEV suit-clad operators before shouting over the noise of idling engines, “The Oberleutnant says to start her up – adjust for the wind and fire as soon as you can!” With a nod, the silver suited soldier immediately began rounding up the rest of his fire team.

With practiced precision the crew of eight set to work disconnecting the various tubes and hoses that were tethered to the massive metal form. Locks were disengaged and safety protocols were switched off. With a ratcheting series of whirrs and clicks, the rib-like scaffolding that had held the Feuerlanze in its upright position began to slowly fall into place, bringing the great weapons down into forty-five degree angle. As it automatically locked the angle in place, the fire crew hurriedly began adjusting the dozens of dials and levers that covered the interface panel. As the last adjustments were made, one of the suit-clad soldiers retrieved a small bronze key from a special flap in his suit before he inserted it into a nearby lock. Waving his arm at his squad mates, he then turned the key a full ninety degrees.

That was the signal needed, as the entire squad made for a ditch some fifty meters away as if their life depended on it. All across the clearing, a blaring klaxon screamed its warning as dozens of brilliant red warning lights came to life, their spinning reflectors casting a crimson haze across the night. Just as the last of the prep crew leapt into the ditch the surrounding noise was all but snuffed out by the unholy roar of the Feuerlanze’s three massive motors coming to life, spewing a scalding trail of incarnadine flame that poured over the ground in a blazing wave of heat. Slowly the rocket began to move forward, only picking up speed as the seconds passed.

With a final mighty roar the Feuerlanze flew free from its firing ramp and into the stormy night sky, skimming the treetops as it passed overhead, a column of orange flame and billowing black exhaust following in its wake! The noise was soon replaced by the characteristic boom that the men of the Feuerlanze battery had come to recognize as the shattering of the sound barrier that marked the point at which it was finally safe to come out of hiding. Taking his slightly steaming helmet off, one of the HEV clad operators turned to his comrades and casually remarked, “Nice to see that it didn’t explode this time.”…

The world had finally stopped moving enough for Gho’Zra to finally pull himself up from within the crater. His vision was still slightly blurry, and the ringing in his head had yet to fully dissipate. Shaking himself for good measure, the towering saurian had only enough time to blink before his world was once more engulfed in an inferno of sights, sounds and, above all else, pain. The second Feuerlanze had torn across the sky like a thunderbolt, making direct contact with its target and consuming it in a hellish blast of fire and chemicals! The blow was struck upon the beast’s lower back with so much force that he was physically bowled over, shattering a few of the hideous spines that jutted from his back on the way down!

All across the battered landscape, the echoing refrain of hundreds of guns popped off from amidst muck-filled trenches, sodden timbers, broken rocks and flaming fields. The general order to use chemical weaponry had been received and, while most were leery of using such a dangerous weapon as T-300, they were more impressed upon by the fact that they were running out of options against a foe that was seemingly indestructible! The ethereal while contrails of a hundred fold canisters cast an eerie cascade of arcing streamers that caught the barest light of the moon and shone like diamonds in the sky.

The deathly hiss of releasing gas signaled the first shell to land in this deadly new facet of combat. It was soon followed upon by two more, then a dozen, then a score more! Soon enough the massive crater that had once been a shallow minefield was all but overflowing with a noxious white cloud of swirling thick mist. The midnight sky was ablaze with the flames of perdition that had consumed the land – the violet flash of lightning only punctuated the hellish visage that was the surrounding landscape. The sulfurous stench of munitions and the acrid odor of burning flesh filled the air and put in mind visions of hell. The pitch black sky continued to weep in bitter suffering for the world that seemed set to end upon the very hour.

The cacophonous night air was then pierced by a shrieking wail, like tearing metal, which spoke of an unbearable level of pain and suffering beyond the scope of comprehension and set the hackles of everyone on edge! From out of the fiery mists there rose the ghastly form of Gho’Zra, wreathed in fire and in the throes of agony. Those who now beheld the monster could only shudder in horrified revulsion at what they saw. Falling once more to his knees, Gho’Zra’s mind was little more than a void of excruciating pain that felt like nothing that had ever before assailed him – not even his rebirth so many months ago could compare to what he now experienced!

Like a living nightmare, the beast’s resilient hide was sloughed from his very bones, just as quickly regenerating only to once more enter the revolting cycle! Great waxy globs of flesh fell freely form his thrashing body – the resultant smell forcing the beast to vomit a viscous mixture of bile, blood, and the lining of his own stomach! This was too much for some of the soldiers, who either expelled the contents of their own stomachs or outright fainted from the horrifying display they had just bore witness to. But if many found this display unsettling, they were outright terrified by what they weren’t seeing!

Instead of the last struggle of a dying animal, they were baring witness to the thrashing movements of a beast trying to escape its own entrapment! The monster wasn’t dead. It was not even dying! It was trying to crawl out of the chemically laden trap it had found itself in, and there was no doubt that it would soon enough shrug this latest attack off as easily as it had all the others! The airship - which had up until now remained overhead, casting its lights upon the target in an attempt allow the troops on the ground to keep the beast in sight – began to slowly rise back into the clouds; its Captain no doubt coming to the conclusion that this fight was far from over.

Too late, it seemed. Working through the unfathomable pain that wracked his every nerve, Gho’Zra managed to roll upon his back before letting lose a stream of searing retribution that missed its primary mark but glanced across the aft end of the vessel, demolishing the airship’s rudders and setting the canvas skin alight! From his seat aboard the helm of ‘Das Schwert der Könige’, Admiral Drücker shouted over the communications channel, “'Pride of Might', get out of there – pull up!” The only sound he received in response was the horrified screaming of the doomed crew aboard the burning airship. Even from his vantage so high above the clouds he could clearly see the blazing outline of the airship as it slowly began to plummet.

It seemed that, in a final effort to strike at their murderer, the crew of the ‘Pride of Might’ had managed to steer their falling craft on a collision course with the beast. Bracing himself for the impact, Gho’Zra was buried beneath the skeletal remains of the once proud vessel – her burning form finally detonating as the flames finally reached her reserve munitions, engulfing her target in a final explosion on par with the Feuerlanzen in its destructive capability! With simmering anger, Hans held no doubt that the beast was still alive as he turned to one of his communications officers and shouted, “Tell fire crew to launch another rocket – send this thing back to Hell where it belongs!”

Like a demonic phoenix, the scarified form of Gho’Zra rose out of the ashes of the destroyed airship – brushing aside twenty tons of steel as if it were little more than a nuisance. The horror experienced by the soldiers on the ground had morphed into a chilling numbness as they came to the conclusion that nothing could stop this monster – it was a god, come to punish the world for its sins. Nothing they, as mere mortals, could do had any hope of stopping the being they called Gho’Zra! Standing tall amidst the wreckage, Gho’Zra bellowed out his victory over his now dead enemy; his roar carrying with it the promise of only further destruction.

Yet for the pointlessness of it all, the brave soldiers that stood between this abomination and the shining city atop the mountaintop stood their ground and prepared to sell their lives dearly. All along the front, every conceivable form of weaponry was brought to bare as they loosed a hailing torrent of flaming lead upon the beast. From artillery to tanks to the simple rifles of the infantry, all of it was thrown against the monster in a bid to garner its attention. And against all hope, it worked. With a snarl of intense hatred, Gho’Zra wheeled towards his assailants and screamed his rage at them. They wanted his attention? They would receive it in full!

Taking a gigantic leap forwards, the scion of hatred fell upon the nearest concentration of troops, bringing his terrific jaws down upon them and swallowing them whole! Instead of fleeing at his predatory display as he’d assumed they would, the vermin who opposed him seemed to only have redoubled their efforts - they were not fleeing, and this only served to make him all the more enraged! Taking another step towards a nearby line a trenches from which all manner of machine-guns and mortars repeatedly struck out at him, it was only through his incredible senses and reflexes that he managed to pick up the now very familiar hiss of the blazing rocket that was screaming towards him!

Pivoting upon his foot, the behemoth snapped his jaws open and spewed a beam of radioactive energy towards the oncoming missile as it hurtled towards him beyond the speed of sound! The lance of energy was near perfect in its placement, intercepting the Feuerlanze as it made its final approach and striking it across the nose. The explosion was impressive to say the least, as the chemically laden warhead burst into a corona of yellows and greens that instantly became inflamed upon contact with the outside air, creating a deadly cloud of chemical rain that was quick to carry itself upon the wind!

In an instant the field was awash with the deadly cocktail, with great swaths of it landing within the trenches! Men of all stations and rank were caught unprepared for this newest and most horrific assault – the smell of burning hair and evaporating flesh mingled with the screams and shouts of men caught within the agonizing clutches of their demise! Soldiers caught in the deadly mist were soon vomiting out their own innards in a spray of blood and mucous. Hundreds swiftly died as their lungs filled with fluids and they drowned beneath their own viscera. Still others were doomed to a horrifyingly slow and agonizing death brought about as their skin melted away and their blood spilled across the drenched earth!

If only to compound upon such tragedy that was unfolding, the delivery engine of the Feuerlanze somehow managed to remain intact, consumed in a blanket of fire and careening out of control – it sailed over head before landing amid the central trenches and upon the heads of some three hundred souls! With a shattering crash, the flaming engine cart-wheeled a half dozen times, spewing gouts of flame that engulfed scores upon scores of men, before finally coming to a stop and exploding in a consuming blaze of rocket fuel that stuck fast to every surface it met – including the poor men it had fallen upon!

Grisly scenes of carnage spilled forth from the trenches. Men chocking to death as their lungs were scourged by the volatile fumes of rocket fuel. Flash burns so intense as to thoroughly cook some poor souls perfectly through. Limbs severed by flying shrapnel were a common reality, and the concussive wave of the blast was enough to destroy the internal organs of those unfortunate enough to be at the epicenter of it all. Like a cascading river the line broke – the shock of it all was too much and the men had reached their breaking point. It was every man for himself as the defenders began to retreat across the field.

So complete and total was this new carnage that the wailing screams of the dying could be heard for kilometers. From his vantage point atop the walls, Mittens Von Fleischtauben bitterly wept as what had befallen so many good sons of the Reich. Turning away before he could be sick, he all but screamed, over the radio, “For the love of God, Hans, cease firing those infernal contraptions – those are my men down there!” So sickened was he by it all that Mittens threw the transceiver down and stomped it into pieces before ordering, “Get them the hell out of there – fall back to the city and make ready for a final stand there!” Even before the message was sent, hundreds upon hundreds of shell-shocked survivors fled towards the walls of the city in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between them and the monster as possible.

Seeing that it was his order to launch the rockets that had doomed so many young boys to death, Admiral Drücker felt nothing but a deep loathing for himself as he shouted out, “Order ‘Tannhauser’ to provide cover for the retreat – maneuver twelve!” From the bridge of the ‘Tannhauser’, the order to assist the ground troops was received; the crew immediately set to work and began preparing the necessary countermeasures. Descending from the clouds in silent stealth, the black-hulled airship made an approach from behind the beast. Noticing yet another sky borne adversary, Gho’Zra was well prepared to do battle once more.

However, the crew of the ‘Tannhauser’ had other ideas. As they passed over the beast’s head, a small undercarriage opened up from its belly, from which fell some two dozen cylinders that were halted mid fall by parachutes. Tilting his head in confusion, Gho’Zra had enough time to let out a growl of confusion before the devices went off directly in front of his face! His senses were assaulted by a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds and smells. Flare batteries and smoke canisters went off before his very eyes as specialized flak-burst whistlers screamed past his ears and a chalky powder filled his nostrils and deadened his sense of smell! As if to top off this medley of stimulants, a final flare went off – detonating into an actinic blaze of pure white light that physically scorched his corneas and blinded him!

Thrashing in impotent rage, Gho’Zra could only stumble around in anger and darkness as he waited for his eyes to regenerate; however, by the burning sensation from within his sockets, it was clear that that might be a while in happening. In the interim, the great gates of the city walls were opened wide to allow the broken army to scramble inside. With the knowledge that his men were safe for the time being, Oberst Mittens thoughts shifted to the burning rage he now felt for being left out of the loop. Because he had never factored in the arrival of Admiral Drücker, the Oberst was more than certain that lives were pointlessly lost to the lack of information. With anger in his heart and a look of malice in his eyes, the Oberst swiftly took his leave as he headed towards the one man he felt certain was to blame for all of this…

From within the radio Pullman situated upon the rail line, Claws Von Schlauhirn continued to monitor incoming and outgoing information in real time. As it stood, it was clear to all parties involved that the operation was going south; the Reich was losing. Gripping at his forehead, the Minister of the Interior released a frustrated sigh. The Chancellor had yet to respond to the watershed revelation he’d sent some three hours prior. This would be fine were it not that protocol dictated he wait for a response. He’d only minutes before sent a telegram informing the Reichskanzler of the sudden appearance of Admiral Drücker’s Geshcwader; he was rather displeased with being left out of the loop.

He was shocked from his thoughts by a bone jarring bang as the door to the Pullman was nearly thrown off its hinges by a positively irate Oberst Von Fleischtauben. Locking eyes upon the bureaucrat, Mittens roared, “You!” before lunging at his target. With a squeak, Claws exclaimed, “Me?” as he tried to evade the clearly unhinged Cat that was reaching for him. Unfortunately, Claws had never been coordinated, and he all but stumbled over his own feet, falling face first into the Oberst’s grasps. Hoisting the now terrified Minister into the air, Mittens furiously exclaimed, “You foul, disgusting little wretch – how long have you known about that fleet!?”

Trembling in fear of his life, Claws stuttered, “H-honestly, H-herr Oberst, I-I was as s-surprised as a-anyone b-by the Admirals arrival; I swear!” Slamming the squirming Minister of the Interior against the wall, Mittens all but spat, “Liar! The Reichskanzler gave the orders, and you have a direct line to him!” Shoving his face into the Interior Minister’s, he growled, “My men are dying out there, Claws – are you telling me that you didn’t have anything to do with this?” As if a switch had been triggered, Claws’ eyes narrowed as he muttered quite candidly, “I’ll go one step further and say that, as per usual, the crafty old bastard has left as many people in the dark as possible.”

Shifting his gaze from one eye to the other, the Oberst watched for the slightest sign of treachery before dropping the fiery haired Cat upon the floor and turning away. With a series of deep breathes, the Oberst slowly turned back around and offered his hand to Claws, who hesitantly took it. With a grunt the older Cat lifted Claws to his feet before speaking in a calm tone, “Then we’ve both been shafted – I’m no doubt going to get court-martialed for this, and you – well, I can think of a whole slew of suitably nasty things they could do to end your career.” Audibly gulping, Claws could only agree; failures like this were tantamount to treason, and with so many well-known names involved the public would soon be screaming for blood.

Turning to the Oberst, Claws humbly said, “Believe me when I say this – if we should survive this night, I’ll do anything and everything to try and deflect the blame away from you.” With a snort, Mittens replied, “Much as I appreciate the sentiment, this night isn’t over yet, and I have no intention of just rolling over and letting that thing win without a fight.” Placing a paw upon Claws’ shoulder, the Oberst begrudgingly suggested, “Head towards one of the bunkers, Claws – the city’s about to be breached; it’s no longer safe above ground.” Looking Mittens in the eye, the Minister of the Interior asked, “And you?” Removing the cloak he’d been wearing up to this point, Oberst Von Fleischtauben replied, “I’m going to go and lead my men like I should have been doing from the start.”

Handing the cloak to Claws, Mittens made to head for the exit. He was stopped, however, by a paw on his arm. Turning back to the Minister, the Oberst merely raised an eyebrow. In answer to his unspoken question, Claws spoke and said, “Godspeed, Heer Oberst – the fate of the Reich just might rest upon this night.” Nodding his head slowly, the Oberst finally turned away and exited the Pullman. Claws Von Schlauhirn was soon enough ready to do the same, but was stopped by the clacking of the telegraph as a new message was received. Scrabbling to the receiver, Claws stared wide-eyed at the message as it read: ‘Claws. If Kanterlotte falls. New priority. Enact Weißerturm Protocol.’ With a nod of understanding, Claws sent a single reply of ‘Confirmed’, before exiting the Pullman and heading towards the nearest bunker…

The massive ‘East Gate’ of the capital city of Canterlot was designed to inspire a sense of awe and splendor that subtly displayed the empire’s wealth and power. Its mighty bronze doors depicted scenes of Equestrian history and of the many heroes of its long and storied past. Inset with hundreds of thousands of semiprecious stones, the great entry way was said to come alive in a rainbow of glorious splendor that struck the souls of all who visited. Yet this mattered very little to the war-weary men of the Imperial expeditionary forces as they crammed their way past the gates and into the interior of the great city.

Nor was it only the massive gate that they poured through. Even the myriad of secondary minor entryways were packed full of soldiers seeking respite. Makeshift ladders had even been hastily erected as scores of men sought to circumvent the crowd and simply go over the walls! Yet for all of the chaos that this entailed, there was a surprising amount structure to this great exodus. Even to the untrained observer it could clearly be seen that the forces of the Reich may have lost this round, but they were far from through with the fight. The rumbling of boiler engines rang out as the crowd parted to allow a handful of Sturmwagens through.

One of the tanks was in fact the No. 7; her exterior was covered in dirt and branches that she’d acquired during her escape into the woods not an hour before. In that time she’d performed a half dozen maneuvers designed to try and distract the beast as the army made a general retreat. Pulling up to a nearby coal station (situated, as it were, next to a munitions depot), the metal behemoth’s engines finally stalled into silence. From inside his cupola, Siegfried gave the all clear. Clambering up the ladder, Toni Langermann made his way towards the nearby coal pile and began shoveling large quantities of the fuel into the No. 7’s coal bin.

From his radio station, Ernst called up to Siegfried, saying, “Command’s given the go ahead to switch out for Grade four or five payloads – looks like this could be a last stand situation.” With a nod, Ziggy replied, “Verstanden,” before turning to his gunner and saying, “Frank, go ahead and requisition whatever sort of chemical ordnance you can get ahold of at the supply dump.” With a grunt, the gunner made to exit the turret, stopping only long enough for the Kommandant to also exclaim, “Oh, and on your way, tell the brothers to start retrofitting their sponsons for chemical warfare – we don’t want anyone to start breathing this stuff halfway through the fight!”

Outside, Frank relayed the message to the Kugelbach brother before he himself made for the nearby munitions depot. The brothers set to work breaking down their side-sponsons, replacing the large-bore cannons for a set of chemischewerfen[9] as well as switching out for an air-tight compartment designed to insulate the occupants from any noxious fumes. By the time Frank returned with a cartload of volatile shells, the brothers were finished. Calling out to them, the dark haired Cat explained, “There’s a drum of soup[10] back at the depot – munitions general says it’s yours if you can carry it. With an excited nod, the two brothers raced off towards the depot. Rolling his eyes, Frank began the rather tedious process of stocking the shells…

In another quarter of the city stood rows upon rows of Ponies, standing at attention beneath the pounding rain and clothed in the green harness of a volunteer division. At their front stood the imposing figure of Oberleutnant Kujek Ghresht, his usually affable demeanor now replaced with a grim frown as he surveyed these latest recruits. They were a mixed group, coming from all manner of stock and background. Some, like the blonde maned, blue-eyed Unicorn standing at the front row, were of obviously noble background. Types like him had the most to lose, so it only made since that they would volunteer. Others were of a middle-class background. Still, there were even those that, had they been Cats, he would have turned away without a second thought; the young, the sick, the old, the malnourished – all of them came out in droves.

Still, things as they were, he would not turn away able-bodied volunteers at this hour, as he began speaking, saying, “You are not soldiers, nor are you fit to be soldiers.” This seemed to catch their attention as they leaned in to listen to him as he went on – “You are men, both young and old, who have decided to fight for your homes… I can respect this.” There were a few smiles at this, but they were quick to vanish as the Oberleutnant continued, “Many of you – if not most of you – are going to die tonight: this is the nature of what we are dealing with.” A few of the volunteers nervously fidgeted, but none turned away as he finished, saying, “However, it’s better to die like men, fighting in defense of what you know and love, than to die cowering in the dark.”

With his speech now out of the way, the Gila Monster set to work, exclaiming in his deep, gurgling voice, “Listen up - I’m going to assign you all into squads of ten.” As he spoke, a few dozen Cats seemed to materialize from the dark, in time for him to continue, “Each squad will be led by one of these men – you will obey them to the letter or not at all; they’ve been authorized to execute anyone who doesn’t follow orders, do I make myself clear?” All manner of affirmatives were given with no small amount of trepidation at the thought. “Alright then,” Kujek bellowed out, “I’ll leave you to it.” With that he took his leave, heading for the next group of volunteers down the line…

With a massive roar, Gho’Zra quickly incinerated the last of the tanks and artillery that had thus far been harrying him every step of the way. Having finally recovered his sight some ten minutes ago, he was surprised to find that most of the vermin that had so far impeded his progress had vacated the field. He spent the next ten minutes dealing with stragglers and more than a few pockets of resistance that he knew were meant to distract him. However, his rage was such that he didn’t care; he would destroy every one of them if he had to. Giving a cursory once-over of the field, he was pleased to find that there was now nothing between him and his ultimate objective.

Slowly striding up to the gleaming white walls that surrounding the city, the lumbering giant braced his shoulders before casually wading through the massive stone barrier with a contemptible ease! With just a few strides he was already making his way towards the gargantuan inner walls. Small arms fire form the crenellations was completely disregarded by the beast as he made his way ever closer. However, a slew of artillery shells exploding directly in his face were less easy to ignore. With a cry of outrage, Gho’Zra swiftly identified the culprit – a small battery of heavy artillery pieces, perched atop one of the massive nearby guard towers, a full head taller than him and contained within the walls proper.

Opening his toothy maw, the avatar of destruction let loose a stream of molten retribution. However, instead of the smoldering wreck he’d expected to find, he was rather shocked to see that the tower was still intact! The barest shimmer of light gave proof to the efforts of a quartet of Unicorns who stood upon the tower, their bodies shaken by the exertion their minds had just gone through in order to deflect such a concentrated burst of power! Just as he was once more about to vomit forth an attack, he was interrupted again by a second wave of shells form the heavy guns, one of which struck the back of this throat!

With a snort of absolute rage, the crimson eyed monster decided that he’d had enough of this. Stooping over, the beast deftly scooped up an enormous chunk of the wall he’d previously walked through before tossing it with all of his fury at the offensive structure! The great rocky projectile all but decimated the upper half of the tower, which was now little more than a cloud of falling masonry and falling bodies. Thereupon the remains of the tower quickly imploded in upon itself, releasing a thick, choking haze of dust into the rainy night sky.

Realizing that there was little they could do against such a foe (and perhaps being taken ahold of by a notion of self-preservation), the defenders who had previously been firing ineffectually from the walls had decided to abandon their efforts in lieu of fleeing into the city. Taking a deep, bone-jarring breath, Gho’Zra forced his weight behind his shoulder as he bodily thrust himself into the titanic stone barrier. The inner walls (having been designed decades ago with the notion of an eminent war with the Cats and taking into account their explosives) were a colossal feat of engineering in their own right – twenty meters thick and with sloping walls; such was their thickness that they actually withstood first blow!

Not to be discouraged, Gho’Zra simply took a step back before once more throwing all of his weight into the walls. With an almighty crash the beast physically stumbled through the now compromised defenses, the debris from which buried him half-way as he toppled forwards. Extricating himself form the stone rubble, the monster quickly shook himself off before bellowing in victory as he took his first bold step into the city. His path was clear – the towering spires of the palace lie ahead of him…

The entire city was in an uproar! Civilians fled in all conceivable directions in a vain attempt to find shelter. Entire city blocks were abandoned, and no small amount of destruction was incurred by the stampede of hooves. In the distance, looming ever larger stood the terrifying figure of Gho’Zra as it made its way implacably further into the midst of the great metropolis. Down a narrow side alley ran a mixed group of souls towing a large and unwieldy gun as they kept pace. Leading this motley group of Pferdlanders was none other than Hauptgefreiter Remi Tschescher who, despite his reservations on the matter, had been forced into the role of squad Captain to this volunteer unit by the mere fact that he was a Cat and that he had been present and on hand at the time.

Still, orders were orders – he wasn’t about to go against a command from his superiors. Fortunately, they’d granted his request to allow Red Sky to come along; the Bison was currently providing the primary means by which the massive SFk-15 was even moving – Lord knows that a ragtag group of Pferdlanders was ill equipped to tow the three ton weapon. Passing a cowering group of civilians as they banked their way into another alley, Remi didn’t even spare them a glance – he needed to focus on the objective. That objective was to strike at the beast from amidst the labyrinthine passages of the city streets in the hope of stalling it.

The volunteers were green in more ways than one, much to his chagrin. It had been no exaggeration when he was told that the Pferdlanders were ill suited to the rigors of war. Still, he was confident that, so long as they remained mobile during this operation, they might just survive the coming dawn. Pulling into a broad thoroughfare, the group was only slightly startled by how close the monster had gotten – not but some five hundred meters! Turning to his charges, Remi was quick to order that the gun be unlimbered and a shell to be placed in the breach. As two of the Ponies helped to unhitch Red Sky from the carriage, Remi (being the only man present who was qualified to even use the cannon) walked the remaining squad members through the necessary motions to fix the gun into firing position.

With an audible clack the artillery was set, and a massive fifteen centimeter shell was hoisted onto the breech track. “Careful with that,” exclaimed the Hauptgefreiter, “there’s enough Schmerz-soße [11] in that thing to kill a whole battalion!” Not understanding what ‘Schmerz-soße‘ was, the Pferdlanders none the less took care to avoid jostling the shell more than necessary. With a resounding clang the round was finally loaded and the breech screwed shut. One of the volunteers exclaimed, “The shell’s loaded, sir!“ With swiftness that even surprised himself, Remi was quick to hop into the gunner's-seat where he quickly began dialing in the sights. As the reticule finally landed on the target, Hauptgefreiter Tschescher boldly gave the order, “Feuer!” With a clamorous boom that echoed off the alley walls and across the open streets, the massive field cannon physically buckled under the force of the shot; a streamer of whisping smoke was all that remained as the shell flew true.

No sooner had the shot been taken that the crew was already fast at work breaking the gun down and re-limbering it to the carriage. As the crew fastened the last strap to Red Sky’s harness, Remi urged the volunteers to hustle back into the alley. He didn’t bother looking back to see whether or not the shell hit the mark – he’d rather not tempt fate as it stood. The Pferdlanders seemed to hold a similar mentality, as none of them even stumbled to bother looking anywhere but straight ahead. Even Red Sky, who was unflappable by his very nature, moved with a quiet sense of urgency.

As it stood, the shot did hit the mark, striking Gho’Zra in the neck; punching through the beast’s gnarled hide (a one in a million shot that defied the odds) and digging in deep before detonating into a gory spume of carmine blood, tinged orange as it oxidized beneath the chemical gruel that openly seeped from the visceral wound. A viscous cloud of thick grey smoke emanated from the hole as the acids quickly went to work eating away at the surrounding exposed flesh! With a genuine scream of pain, Gho’Zra physically reeled at the unexpected blow, instinctively bringing his arm up to grip at his neck in a feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding!

The potent haze of caustic fumes and acrid smoke were playing havoc with his senses – his eyes burned, his nose ran like a waterfall of bloody mucous, and a thick pink bubbly paste of blood and saliva poured from his mouth as he tried to retain his equilibrium beneath the neurological assault he was under. Unfortunately, his struggle to remain standing was a losing battle as he crashed headlong into a front of buildings. However, just as always, the wound was quick to suture itself closed. The fumes dissipated and the burning eventually stopped. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Gho’Zra swiftly arose to his feet and began searching the surrounding cityscape in an attempt to spot the source of the attack.

His search was cut short, however, as his attention was drawn towards the raining black skies by a droning mechanical din which only grew louder as whatever made it grew fast in approaching. From the swirling dark clouds emerged a pair of creatures the likes of which Gho’Zra had never in his life seen before. Their lustering dark skin was obviously made of metal, but they flew with the swiftness of shrikes and maneuvered just as well as any hawk! His observations were cut short as the flying metal birds erupted in a barrage of flaring light which preceded the distinctively bothersome prickling sensation of his skin being struck by a barrage of bullets.

For their own part, the pilots of these experimental strike craft[12] were nothing if not brave. The lead aircraft was swift in falling into a dive as it barreled full speed towards the snarling face of the beast! Involuntarily flinching as a burst of auto cannon fire raked his face, Gho’Zra only managed to open his eyes just in time to watch as the vessel pulled up sharply; the pilot inside of it activating the supercharger in an attempt to gain altitude quickly. What the colossal saurian failed to see was the oblong container that had jettisoned from the attack craft at the apex of its dive. He was rather unprepared for the foaming geyser of gelatinous fire that engulfed his upper body and scoured his flesh in a most unpleasant manner.

Rising to his full height in both indignation and rage, Gho’Zra could scarcely know how ominous his appearance was – the glaring, half-molten visage of his face was wreathed in an orange bed of flames which cast hideous shadows across his keloid-laced flesh and highlighted his massive teeth; combining in such a way as to lend his face a skeletal grin that sent a shiver up the spine of any poor soul who was unfortunate enough to witness it. The second fighter craft quickly followed suit as it, too, pushed into a dive. Never one to fall for the same trick twice, Gho’Zra was swift to duck out of the way of the next fire-gel bomb[13] as the second aircraft pulled up in a jerking manner far less smooth than that of its twin.

The wayward bomb flew past its intended target before landing violently upon the city streets below! In a flash the night sky was awash with the vermillion glow of virulent flames as they splashed across the city pavement and spilled across any and all of the surrounding buildings, setting them alight in a swiftly growing firestorm which reached outward in a desperate bid to consume as much as it could! Looking back at the flames that trailed in his wake, Gho’Zra would have grinned were he capable of it – the warm radiance of the flames would greatly assist him in spotting his enemies amidst the backdrop of the nighttime air.

Indeed, it was this guiding light which helped him to spot the metallic glint of the first vessel as it came around for a second run at the beast. Instead of using its cannons or another firebomb, the craft pulled out another surprise in the form of a battery of screaming solid-fuel rockets that soared through the air at the speed of sound. However, the weapon was less than effective – only a few of the warhead managed to meet their mark, and they were apparently disregarded by the beast as being negligible at best. Growing tired of these bothersome birds, Gho’Zra decided that he’d had enough as he coiled his herculean muscles into a spring of tension before swinging his massive serpentine tail into the air as the vessel passed over him. The collision was fantastic - destroying the contraption in an instant and leaving naught but a million tiny shards of metal and powdered plastics!

Seeing that its brother had been so consummately destroyed, the second craft decided to call it quits as the pilot increased his throttle in a mad dash above the city – desperate to get away intact. With a glaring snarl, Gho’Zra disabused his prey of any such a notion of escape as he opens his gaping maw in a spray of negative energies! The beam sped beyond even the aircraft’s abilities and lanced across the vessel’s wing, clipping it mid-flight! In a blazing pillar of smoke the fighter spiraled out of control, its twirling dance ending as it crashed amidst a distant part of the city – the volatile fuels within its engine then igniting into a pyroclastic surge which set to light the surrounding architecture!

With nothing left to oppose him, Gho’Zra once more continued to wade through the buildings towards the center of the city; every iota of his concentration focused as it were upon the central castle which loomed ever closer. This was it – the end of his quest was nearly within reach! The racing fires that had spread in his wake were quick to overtake him in a shroud of shimmering heat. The heat did little to affect him – he was born of the flames, after all; the conflagration which had birthed him had left its testament upon his very flesh, and no mere flame would ever come close to that first fire so long ago! To his left, a great wooden building lit up in a splendid display of heat and smoke, flushing the air with a thick black haze.

The haze was thick enough that Gho’Zra failed to notice the pack of Sturmwagens that had rolled forth from a side venue and into a flanking maneuver. Inside the venerable Number 7 (which stood at the vanguard of the pack), the sweat-stained crew waited in fearful anticipation. They were nervous, and for more than one reason – their battlewagon was surrounded on both sides by a wall of sweltering flames which only increased the awful heat of the tank’s interior. They were about to commit an attack upon a beast fully capable of crushing them like a beetle beneath a man’s heel, and if that were not stressful enough, they were currently accompanied by a new crew member – a Unicorn, who’s name they had already forgotten; dumped upon them by command for the express purpose of gambling with their lives!

The Unicorn himself was likewise just as nervous. He had been picked up by a group of rather intimidating felines, placed within the confines of a giant metal box and given the vague instruction of using his magic to aid the machine’s crew in its efforts against the monster that was destroying his home city. Needless to say, it was a very uncomfortable situation for all parties involved. From his seat at the electronics console, covered in crash webbing and anxiously fidgeting, Walter Fisk finally spoke the words that were on everyone’s minds as he asked, “Just what the hell are we supposed to do against something like that, hm?” Ignoring his bow gunner’s question, Panzer Kommandant Siegfried Stoßer turned instead towards the Unicorn and asked in halting Pferdsprecht, “You are ready, ja?”

With no small amount of trepidation, the poor Unicorn could only hesitantly nod his head in affirmation – he was about as ready as anyone could be in such a situation. Nodding his own head in understanding, Siegfried slowly looked around himself as he took in the grim expressions of his crew. Coming to some sort of internal decision, the German Rex called to his radio operator, saying, “Ernst, radio the others and tell them to begin the attack.” As the Havana began sending the command, Siegfried slowly sat back in his command seat and whispered, “May God have mercy upon us.”

As if of one mind, the group of Stürmwagens opened fire upon the unsuspecting monstrosity. Their payloads were varied – some were designed to penetrate armor, others were chemical ordnance, and some were of a mixed design. Still, some were just Jerry-rigged explosives that had been cobbled together for lack of available shells! Regardless, they all did their job, striking true and completely catching the beast off guard. Wheeling around out of instinct alone, Gho’Zra only managed to catch sight of the interloping machines as they made their exit amidst the rubble and through the many alleys and side streets. Still, Gho’Zra’s response was quick - he managed to get off a small radioactive burst upon one of the offending vehicles (the ‘Schwarzie’, no less). But as the smoke dissipated, the beast was noticeably surprised to find that the Tank was still intact, and that it was still moving!

For their part, the crew of the Number 7 was quite shaken by the fact that they should more than likely have been killed by the attack. Some of them physically shook; others held a grimace of horror; Bart outright vomited. However, the worst off of the bunch was doubtlessly the Unicorn who was now splayed upon the floor, covered in sweat and taking great gulps of air - his complexion pale and sickly. After all, he’d just barely held that last attack at bay with the magic he’d used to shield them all; he’d never had to exert so much effort before in his life, and he sincerely doubted that he’d be able to do it a second time! From his place beside the Kommandant, Frank Müller casually observed in moderately surprised voice, “We’re alive; it actually worked.” From the helm of the machine, Schmüllie silently shifted to the highest gear as he continued to drive the machine onwards and into the relative cover of the surrounding buildings.

Preparing to give chase to the fleeing Sturmwagen, Gho’Zra was once again struck from above – another Airship (‘Der Peststurm’) had quickly descending from the storm clouds overhead, while the beast was distracted, and began to release a concentrated payload of nerve gas canisters upon the monster. As the canisters exploded all around him, Gho’Zra attempted to hold his breath whilst the bright blue cloud of nerve agents wafted upwards amidst the thermal updraft of the surrounding firestorm. It was to no avail, however; the chemicals were quickly absorbed by his skin, where they set to work destroying his nervous system! With a wail, the beast stumbled around as he swiftly lost control of his motor skills. From all around him, the pack of Tanks made pass after pass at him, striking from all sides and just as swiftly disappearing as they continued their guerrilla war against him.

His frustration was only growing – the hatred he’d used to sustain his will was reignited by the ire he felt for these creatures that simply refused to leave him alone! As his blood literally boiled in anger, the nerve gas was quickly flushed from his skin in a pale neon mist that gave him the ethereal quality of a wraith. Quickly righting himself, Gho’Zra glared as the looming vessel above him prepared to drop another round of chemical shells. With a snarl, the Scion of Destruction grabbed ahold of a small cinder-block structure before heaving it towards the Airship - the mass of stone and concrete punching clear through to the other side of the vessel!

Like a falling leaf, the rapidly deflating ‘Peststurm’ gracefully dropped to the city below. As she quickly came to rest amidst the flames, much of her volatile payload was ignited, and with a brilliant purple bloom a mighty explosion occurred – at its base there now grew a horrifying chemical fire which spewed untold volumes of deadly green smoke into the air! Bellowing triumphantly, Gho’Zra quickly went on the offensive. Spotting one of the tanks as it made its way behind a nearby pile of debris, he was quick to spew his hatred in a beam that raked across the landscape, setting the still standing buildings that surrounded him to light!

Soon enough, his target tried to make a break for it, heading towards a nearby toppled building in the hopes of escaping the conflagration. With a terrifying shriek, Gho’Zra released another beam of radiant might directly at its prey. Like the one before it, this tank seemed miraculously immune to the attack, as the shimmer of a magical field dispersed the concentrated energy in all directions. Not content to let the machine get away, Gho’Zra opted instead to take a more direct approach - lifting his gargantuan foot before bringing it down upon the Sturmwagen with all of his fury, rupturing the cobblestone streets and completely flattening the vehicle!

The next few minutes turned into a deadly game of cat and mouse for the crews of the Sturmwagens – the beast used everything at its disposal in its hunt for the insurgent tanks, even going so far as to crawl on hands and knees in its bid to overcome them! It was in this seemingly vulnerable position that a trio of Sturmwagens (lead by the ‘Schwarzie’) came up from behind it and began firing. Sadly, they had completely forgotten to take the monster’s powerful tail into account. With a simple flex of its back the beast’s tail swept across the landscape, completely pulverizing one of the attackers and sending the other two hundreds of meters though the air. One of them fell into a nearby park where it was shredded against a row of trees. The No. 7, however, fell amidst a residential district…

The city was ablaze – washed in a sanguine haze that only continued to grow as the fires spread from one district to another. Wherever the fires burned there were a dozen tales of heroism in the making as both soldier and civilian alike fought to put out the swirling inferno! Cats and Ponies worked side by side in a mutual act of survival; bucket brigades were formed, and water was carried by any means necessary. Even more desperate were the continued actions of those who were willing and brave enough to aid in hindering the lumbering beast which sought nothing short of their total annihilation! Volunteer platoons died in droves in the hopes of, at the very least, stalling their malefactor’s progress. Still the hammering echo of countless guns in the distance gave proof through the darkness that the Reich was still fighting, still dying to save a city they scarcely cared for.

And amidst this menagerie of conflict, the rains began to soften; the clouds began to fall away. It was only too apparent in the way the flames seemed to climb ever higher into the horizon, and how the heat began to boil the very air in a great expanse of steam and blistering smoke. Canterlot was burning to cinders, and there was nothing that could be done for her. She would no doubt linger and die over the course of the coming weeks, but the fires were too far spread, too entrenched within her soul of clean cut stone and gilded timbers. From his vantage in the sky, aboard ‘Das Schwert der Könige’, Admiral Drücker looked on in pity before morosely remarking, “So, this is how a city dies.”…

The once proud Sturmwagen, ‘Number Seven’, was now little more than a twisted mockery of its former glory. Her boiler-hold had ruptured, taking much of her aft with it. Her once mighty gun was now twisted and warped – permanently ruined. A steady trickle of coal-oil and chemical lubricants seeped from the many rending wounds across her hull, and her treads were now little good for anything but scrap. It had been a miracle that she’d not gone to spark and combusted – something that Walter Fisk attributed to the grace of God at this point. As he dragged the comatose form of Siegfried from the wreckage, he had to suppress the feelings that wanted to well up from within him; there would be time for mourning later.

As he gently laid his commanders head upon Toni's lap, the bow gunner once more took stock of the situation. The ‘Schwarzie’ was gone – not even fit for salvage. He purposefully avoided looking at a nearby puddle of blood as he recalled how both Frank and Ernst were dead – crushed within the metal deathtrap that the No. 7 had become. Hirschel was in critical condition; much of his fur was gone – burnt away by the chemicals that had ruptured within his sponson's compartment. There was a chance that the fumes had irreparably damaged his lungs, but only time would tell. He was still a great deal better off than his brother. Pip had been on the vehicle’s right side when it came down. He’d no doubt been crushed to death upon impact. If the crash hadn’t killed him, the toxic chemicals that pooled beneath the vehicle had surely finished him off. Walter sincerely hoped that Pipin had died quickly.

The Unicorn that had been assigned to them was also dead – his fragile body had been ruptured upon impact, spilling much of his innards into the interior of the tank. Walter could still taste the bile from when he’d purged at the sight. Those had been the casualties. Looking at his likely broken paw, Fisk could only marvel at how he’d come away so intact. It had most likely been the crash webbing he’d tangled himself within that had allowed him to come out walking. Schmullie had been similarly lucky; aside from a slight concussion he was okay – the safety harness of his seat had kept him from being tossed around so hard. Of less luck were the other survivors. Poor Bart Zipfel’s legs had both been broken – one of them was a compound fracture! He’d given the poor boy some morphine from the emergency supplies.

Toni had a variety of nasty burns across his body, compliments of the boiler exploding. One of his arms had been rent from its socket (though that had been easy to remedy), and his left ear was now little more than a blood crusted stump of flesh (not as easy to fix). Kommandant Stoßer no doubt had the worst of it. One of his arms had been severed at the elbow; fortunately enough, whatever had cut it off had been blunt enough to crush the blood vessels closed, so at least he wasn’t bleeding out. His tail was obviously broken in multiple spots, because there was no way it should be bending like it was. More noticeable was the hideous lesion of dried blood and scorched puss that had at one point been his right eye. This only emphasized the way in which much of the right side of his face was now hideously marred with what would no doubt become horrifying scars in the future.

From what he could make of it, one of the chemical shells must have sprung a leak and seeped into the poor Cat’s face. A haggard cough from Hirschel brought him back to reality as he went and applied more basalt powder to the boy’s skin. From where he sat with Ziggy’s head in his lap, Toni Langermann simply watched on in somber silence as, in the distance, Gho’Zra made its way ever closer towards the palatial castle. Gently stroking the commander’s head, Toni began to silently weep. From his own half-delusional, drug addled state, Bart looked up into the sky. The clouds had begun to recede; the rains were nearing their end. He casually wondered if this would be how his own life ended…

The frantic shuffling of hooves upon the marble floors echoed across the arching walls and vaulted ceiling of the palatial lobby as dozens of dignitaries, bureaucrats and politicians nervously made their way through the resplendent halls. Amidst this group of anxious ponies, the Chameleons K'Umetk and Ghur’Tcha found themselves pressed along for the ride. As far as K'Umetk could surmise, the party was being ushered out of the castle and onto the palace grounds. The group suddenly halted as a gruff voice spoke out, “Alright, listen up; this tunnel should lead you to safety – it goes about a kilometer to the west and opens up near Clover Field Park[14].” The groan of great metal hinges was followed by a burst of stale air as the guards opened the clandestine path.

The first to enter the cramped passage were the various foreign dignitaries and delegates, who were quick to make their way through. The next group to venture forth was that of the various courtesans, ministers and nobles, many of whom were less than eager to leave the only home they’d ever known. When it came time for the Chameleons to go through, Ghur’Tcha spoke in a hushed whisper, asking the older K’Umetk, “Did you not see the Princess among their numbers?” Turning only slightly towards the young reptile, K’Umetk muttered back, “She was not, nor do I think she ever intended to be.” Casting the pair of royal guards who stood at attention a wary glance, the two islanders passed through the entrance of the tunnel and took their first step into the darkness. As they wandered down the winding way, they could hear the muted thud of the great earthen door closing in their wake…

Within the innermost confines of her private personal chamber, Princess Celestia – now sole sovereign of Equestria – having just finished writing up her last will and testament, telekinetically returned her quill to its inkwell. Casually observing how the ink dried upon the velum parchment, she absentmindedly turned to the only other living soul that was present at the document’s drafting; her loyal Minister of State, Prudent Measure. With a voice that spoke of a sense of calm that could only be held by one who was assured of their own death, she spoke to the old pony, saying, “Please insure that Twilight Sparkle is given this document upon my passing – in it are provisions for which the state may continue to exist in my absence.”

With a genuine look of sorrow, Prudent Measure exclaimed, “Please, your highness – Celestia; there is no need for this!” Looking his sovereign straight in the eye, he implored, “Come away from this place – there is still time to escape with the rest of us!” With a weary sigh, the Alicorn replied, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” With a desperate gleam in his eye, the old gray equine incredulously asked, “You can’t, or you won’t?” Casting a hard glance at her minister, the Solar Sovereign brusquely declared, “There is nothing left for me here.” Rolling up the parchment and affixing a wax seal to its binding, the gleaming white princess presented the scroll to the minister, who begrudgingly took it upon his self. Quietly dismissing him, the Princess then turned away and walked towards her balcony. She had said that there was nothing left for her. She was more right than she realized…

The eastern courtyard of the royal Canterlot Palace had at one point been a veritable Garden of Eden. All manner of flora from across the world had been planted upon its verdant green grounds. Now it was the setting of a desperate last offensive. The proud vegetation that had shaded the land had been cleared away in order to make room for a full division of artillery that was, even now, being prepared for a final attack. The division was composed of hundreds of cannons, mortars, howitzers and rocket batteries - even a hand full of Equestrian trebuchets and mangonels! Those that crewed the battery were just as diverse in their makeup; Voroshians, and Equestirans alike stood side by side in the knowledge of what they would soon face.

From the onset, a plan had been in place in the event that the Reich was incapable of stopping the monster from reaching the castle walls. An all or nothing gamble that placed all bets on a single decisive blow. Every single last shell of weapon’s grade four and above that had been left was now concentrated within this single place; nestled in the barrel of every gun. An entire block of Sternschnuppen[15] Had been assembled on location - their bulky forms were now trained at the horizon of the wall’s edge. In fact, every gun present was focused upon a single point – the point from which the scion of doom was set to approach at any minute!

From the confines of a Käferwagen he’d commandeered in order to direct his men, Oberst Mittens could only stare in disbelief as the towering form of Gho’Zra ethereally glided across the burning landscape like a vengeful phantom, destroying everything in its wake as it slowly edged its way towards the final bastion of Equestria. He realized that this was it – it was now or never. Though it pained him to do it, he knew that they needed to hit this abomination with everything they had. Tightly gripping an onboard radio transceiver, the Oberst dialed in to the proper channel and firmly asked, “Hans, can you hear me?“ A bout of hissing static was all that met him at first. He was relieved to hear the Admiral’s voice suddenly cut through the white noise as he responded, “Ja, ich höre dich.“

With a heavy sigh, Mitten’s next words held the gravitas of self-condemnation as he spoke, saying ,“If you have any more of those rockets, I need you to launch them all at grid point 002 027 – on my mark.“ For what seemed like minutes, there was only silence on the other end. The silence was finally broken as Hans replied (in an uncharacteristically melancholy tone),“The rockets are prepped – we await your mark.“ With a sigh, Mittens let go of the receiver before collapsing in his seat. Gripping at his face, the old Cat physically felt ill. ‘This must be what failure feels like.‘ he forlornly thought. He was well aware that they’d lost – he’d accepted that hours ago. Still, it didn’t hurt any less. He’d failed the men of his command, and he’d failed the Reich. In the distance he heard the sonorous roar of Gho’Zra as it screamed its triumph to the sky. Picking the radio set back up, Mitten gave his last meaningful order of the battle: “Feuer…”

Out of the darkness of the forest screamed a final salvo of three ‘Feuerlanzen‘ – their brilliant orange contrails spiraling through the atmosphere in a final bid to destroy the beast upon which they would soon bare! In the blink of an eye, the first rocket landed true and engulfed the child of destruction in a shroud of infernal flame and smothering smoke, garnering a mournful wail from the creature which sent a chill down the spines of all who were witness to this final act. No sooner had the first ‘Feuerlanze‘ made contact that the second rocket landed nearby, giving birth to another ball of fire and completely leveling those structures that still remained standing in the vicinity.

But, to the surprise of many, the last of the rockets was halted mid-flight by a pair of muscular arms as Gho’Zra's form emerged from the smoke. With a growl of weariness, the beast fought against the thrust of the rocket as its mighty engine still roared with vicious gouts of flame before it suddenly exploded within his own grasp, engulfing him in a titanic storm of burning heat and searing acid! With a warbling cry that ululated across the city and beyond the mountainside, Gho’Zra screamed his pain, his hatred, his anguish and torment; he grew tired of the world! The otherworldly cry was as long as it was deep, and it carried with it grievances from the past and promises of retribution in the near future!

As the detritus began to clear and the smoke and gas clouds finally dissipated, the pale light of the burning city revealed a grizzly sight. For there, amidst such carnage and destruction, defiantly stood the ghastly form of Gho’Zra, the destroyer of worlds and the avatar of death! His arms were scorched to their very bones, oozing blood and horribly mangled to the point where even hardened veterans of a half dozen campaigns had to turn away . The noise they made as both flesh and muscle began to rapidly regenerate across the bone was nothing short of sickening. What was worse was the gaping hole that had been his left eye – scoured to the point that the bones of his eye socket could be clearly seen, it was even more horrifying to watch as the skin around the wound began to close up while a gelatinous mass began to seep into the gaping occipital opening; the makings of a new eye, no doubt.

Frothing drool and thick brown blood poured from his mouth as he took great gulping breaths that gurgled and churned as the blood of this ruptured lungs was expelled; they were slowly beginning to reform themselves. But what horrified everyone the most was that, despite receiving such astronomically egregious wounds, the colossal titan continued to hobble towards the walls of the castle! Its body had been thoroughly broken, and yet it refused to yield. A gurgling growl of total and absolute hatred welled up from within the beast, as thick as the blood that ran from its wounds and more potent than the fiery death it was capable of breathing.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the radioactive leviathan took the last few steps needed to reach the castle walls. With a heaving breath, the scarified monstrosity outstretched his left arm (the least mangled of the two he possessed), firmly taking purchase of the crenellated structure before surging forward in a bid to break through the walls. He was caught completely unaware by the massive barrage of smoking fire and burning pain that was unleashed directly upon his upper body. As of one mind, the crews who manned the battery that had been hidden behind the walls had unleashed their final say upon the matter in the form of a near solid deluge of potent munitions that now openly met with the ravenous beast!

Every conceivable projectile was unleashed upon Gho’Zra in a near biblical projection of devastation. From gas propelled mortar charges designed to rupture organs to liquid-fuel rockets capable of breaking through earth and stone; acids, gasses, explosives, composites, even solid boulders and barrels of burning pitch – anything and everything that had ever been devised with the express purpose of causing catastrophic harm was at that very moment sent into the un-expectant and thoroughly surprised maw of the great destroyer! The resultant explosion was something to behold!

The effects of the explosion were of an altogether nightmarish horrendousness the likes of which no man should have ever been witness to. Where once there had been a snarling face of flesh and blood was little more than a mass of blood-ridden flesh and melting fat which clung tenaciously to a skull which looked all the more ferocious as the unearthly creature attempted to open its jaws, spewing forth a vomitus river of boiling blood and squelching giblets which poured into the confines of the courtyard, consuming dozens of horrified victims as it burnt away their own flesh and blood! A sound akin to the sucking of a straw soon emanated from the monster’s throat as the decimated flesh began to twist and turn in ways not meant to be seen as it rapidly regenerated the damaged tissue.

For Gho’Zra, it was nothing short of an insurmountable wave of absolute agony. The feeling of his very flesh being peeled from his body was one thing, but the deep, soul-cutting burn of it coming back was quite another. Taking firm grasp of the mind shattering pain, the beast directed it towards his rage (the only possible way that his mind could even conceivably remain intact as it were), channeling it across his entire body with such ferocity that he physically began to quake. Before anyone could react, before anyone could think to react, the dam broke.

With a humming vibrato that physically shook the air around him, Gho’Zra tensed up in unadulterated animosity. His massive, hideous spines began to crackle and shimmer with fell energies, popping and hissing as they strobed in agitation. The air began to thicken as an incredible heat began to permeate the atmosphere. Vaulting arcs of plasmatic energy began to dance amidst the creature’s grotesque spines, jumping to and fro amidst the jagged structures, traveling up and down its back. The electrical storm grew more frenetic as the seconds passed, filling the air with a sound akin to a million singing sparrows, all the while with the droning hum growing in pitch and decibel.

Time seemed to stop. In the blink of an eye – the span of a heartbeat, the chittering grove of living lightning was seemingly sucked into the behemoth’s back and the whining tremolo that had permeated the air reached its zenith. In a flash as bright as the sun and as brief as a single moment in time, a great cascading pulse of pure energy erupted from within Gho’Zra’s very form! With the force of a million suns the gravity around him exploded in strength, rending and twisting metal, pulping flesh and bone, and mulching stone with such force that the rocks around him began to defy nature and rise into the air! The actinic hiss of corroding metal and oxidizing air mingled with the smell of burning hair and simmering flesh in an ungodly display of destruction!

All of this in the span of a few seconds! As his eyes once more returned to sight, and as the last of his wounds closed themselves, Gho’Zra took the moment to survey his surroundings. What met him was a vision of death and destruction in their purest form. Strewn across the open courtyard, the broken, twisted and mutilated forms of both mortal bodies and metal constructs lay where they’d been felled – like the toys of a child left scattered across the floor. In every direction there were phantom shadows permanently burned into the landscape – a testament to that which had been and was now no longer. But it was what had not met his vision that truly testified to his victory: there were none left who opposed him.

Rearing back and filling his lungs to the brim, Gho’Zra, bringer of ruin and paragon of destruction, bellowed forth an earth shattering roar that resounding across the mountain, over the darkened forest and up to the very heavens themselves! The world had sought to oppose him – to destroy him! But in the end it was he who stood astride a mountain of corpses in total and absolute victory! The storm all at once broke at the sound of his conquest, and the clouds receded – replaced by the watchful gaze of a hundred million twinkling stars. Truly it seemed that the very universe acknowledged his supremacy!

With a renewed vigor, the hulking saurian monster struck the great stone wall before him asunder before he slowly staggered towards a pristine white tower which seemed to beckon to him from the very center of the palace. Halting his strides, he simply stood and observed as a tiny winged parasite humbly strode out to meet him upon the tower’s open balcony. Celestia’s face held nothing but an absolute look of peace as she strode forth to greet her destiny in the form of the living avatar of death that was Gho’Zra. For untold minutes the two stared at one another; one in serenity and the other in a rage that only seemed to grow in intensity as time inexorably marched on.

With a haggard breath, Gho’Zra drew his shoulders back as he slowly raised his arms above him. Understanding that this was the end, Celestia could only remark in a sad, somber voice, “How terrible it must be, to feel such hatred and pain within your very soul…” Parting his lips back in a bare-toothed snarl of absolute loathing, Gho’Zra brought his arms crashing down with a mighty roar, demolishing both the tower and the life of Princess Celestia, former sovereign of what had once been called Equestria. Body heaving in profound anger, the beast all at once released the months of fury it had built up in a single cataclysmic display of might!

From the distance, across the whole of the doomed city, soldier and civilian alike watched in dismayed awe as the monster unleashed itself in a berserk fury upon the magnificent palace. So complete was the desolation that he wrothed upon the complex that not a single stone was left unturned, nor a single blade of grass left to grow. All that remained was a devastation so thorough that one would scarcely believe there had ever been anything but rubble upon the mound where once had stood the royal palace of Canterlot.

Like a waking dream, the last light of flickering stars began to fade as the pale red light of the early morning sun began to shine across the nearby eastern sea – freed for the first time in millennia to rise of its own accord. And with this crimson new dawn came a strange sense of peace, the likes of which Gho’Zra had never felt before. The hatred had finally ebbed away. It was still there, but no longer was it the overpowering urge it had once been. But in its place came a feeling that was perhaps worse than any amount of hatred he had experienced. What he now felt was the indescribable emptiness that came with the knowledge that he was both the last of his kind, as well as the first. And it filled him with a deep and powerful sadness to understand as such. He was so tired.

Slowly, lethargically, the thoroughly exhausted creature surveyed the surrounding city. He was suddenly struck by how lonely he felt – how alone he truly was. With a mournful wail he at last turned away from the ruins and began a slow, tired journey through the city and towards the distant shore. In his wake, there was only the shattered hopes and dreams - the broken and battered memories of hundreds upon thousands of souls, and a flaming city of death. He disregarded all of this. He had grown so very weary of the world, and only wished to return once more to the sea.

By the time he reached the pristine sands of the ocean shoreline, the sun finally broke over the horizon, casting its warm radiant light upon the first day of a new era, and across the memory of what once had been. Falling headlong into the gentle waves of the sea, Gho’Zra slipped into the inky blackness of the abyss and towards the open embrace of the ocean he’d been reborn upon. As the last of his mighty spines sank beneath the watery expanse, he finally felt a modicum of peace within himself… He could never have known of the radio transmitter lodged within his flesh, deposited there as it were by one of the myriad thousands of shells that had been thrown at him during that most terrible night…

[1] The Sondermilitärischefahrzeug 12 (Sd.Mfz 12) colloquially referred to as the ‘Käferwagen’ or ‘Käfer’ (‘Beetle’) for short, is a popular and highly modular Half-track support vehicle. The oblique design of its armor allows for better shell deflection, and as such it is a highly reliable troop transport as well as a stable assault platform. Often considered the work horse of the Army, the ‘Käfer’ has been a fixture on the battlefield for the last twenty years.
[2] A modified pistol designed to fire a flare beacon, the mark flare is a breach loaded double-shot utility flare gun primarily used to signal for help.
[3] That is, a First Lieutenant
[4] A term used to denote a formation of Airships in the Voroshian military
[5] A private Frequency is reserved only for high level military and government personnel in the Reich
[6] Though not related by blood, Admiral Hans Drücker is the husband of Clara Von Fleischtauben, the eldest daughter of the Von Fleischtauben estate and sister to the famed war hero Oberst Mittens Von Fleischtauben. Cat society views such relations to still be iron-bound to the notions of kinship – as such, the terminology used by the Admiral is actually a genuine statement – they are brothers in the eyes of both society and the law.
[7] Hailing from the southern peninsular plains of the continent, the Griffons are a species for hire; their natural gifts and aggression make for good soldiers and guards. They come from a loose confederacy of rival democratic states, which they collectively refer to as Κήπωνγη (Kipon'gi), and have had plenty of practice on one another. They've been known to come together against a common threat, but they're less interested in Global politics and more interested in earning coin. There is a cordial peace between the Griffons and the Ponies, so it is assumed by many that they are in a military alliance, though the reality is less straightforward.
[8] Measuring 20 meters (a little over 65 feet) in length and some 5 meters (a little over 16 feet) in width, and weighing in at some 4,500 kilograms (nearing 10,000 pounds), the highly classified and extremely experimental ‘Feuerlanze’ (meaning Fire Lance) represents a new era of warfare and as such is the pinnacle of Voroshian weapons technology. Using an Alcohol Liquid Oxygen mixture for propulsion, the Feuerlanze is a massive two staged rocket capable of carrying its 750 kilogram (1,653.45 pounds) payload some 360 kilometers (a little over 223 miles) from a maximum altitude of 90 kilometers (nearly 56 miles). It accomplishes the feat through a trio of massive rocket thrusters housed at the base of the propulsion stage of the rocket. The rocket has enough fuel for only 60 seconds of powered flight; by that time it will have already broken the sound barrier and be well on its way to the target. During long distance operations, the first stage can break away, allowing the secondary stage of the rocket (which houses the 750 kg warhead) to initiate a smaller ethyl hydrogen mixture fueled motor which is capable of propelling the warhead a further 120 kilometers (that is, just a little under 75 miles), giving a combined distance traveled of 480 kilometers (which equates to about 300 miles). The payload itself is comprised of 80% by an inert plastic explosive referred to as ‘Stoff’, 15% by a highly classified organic peroxide, 3% by a volatile organophosphate, and a further 2% comprised of a catalytic super acid. When the pressure pin at the tip of the warhead is depressed upon impact it breaches super acid compartment, which will then eat through the peroxide chamber roughly .02 seconds before it eats through the organophosphate’s container. The delay of .02 seconds is enough to allow the Peroxide to funnel into a specialized cavity in the inert plastic explosive before the two volatile chemicals mix. This mixture acts as a catalyst itself which chemically transfers energy to the ‘Stoff’, resulting in a catastrophic vacuum effect which heats the entire mixture up to 2,700 degrees Celsius (4,892 degrees Fahrenheit) before detonating with enough force to flatten an entire city block. The explosion also supercharges the reaction of the Peroxide Organophosphate mixture, producing a caustic chemical gruel that is both partially aerated gas and caliginous gel, capable of liquefying organic molecules and burning though a variety of both inorganic and synthetic materials. This is, of course, what occurs when the fuel has been expended via maximum transit – the force of the blast can actually be increased three fold should the secondary motor retain its fuel, and to fivefold should the primary engine still retain a portion of its fuel. The entire system is controlled by a gyroscope, 2 D-Volt batteries and a primitive analogue computer housed at the base of the warhead. The design was purposefully designed to be modular with the express purpose of allowing it to carry any number of theoretical ordnance systems that have yet to be developed or are in the final stages of development.
[9] A heavily modified Flamer unit, the Chischewerfer is designed to spray a specialized chemical cocktail of caustic fluids and potent gases up to a maximum distance of 120 meters.
[10] A slang term for the chemical mixture launched by a Chemishewerfer
[11] Literally translating to ‘Pain Gravy’, Schmerz- soße is a slang term used to refer to the trio of hyper-acidic compounds known as Antimony pentafluoride (SbF5), Fluorosulfuric acid (HFO3S), and Trifluoromethanesulfonic acid(CF3SO3H) which are stored in a specialized, compartmentalized ceramic shell called a Topfscherbe. The Topfscherbe is designed in such a way as to disperse the three acidic compounds into a volatile cocktail strong enough to eat through flesh and corrode steel in seconds. The entire system is referred to as T-750, and is classified as a Grade 5 munition.
[12] Designed by the manufacturing company of Jünd & Lubek, the JL-103 (colloquially referred to as the ‘Sperbern’, or ‘Sparrowhawk’) is an experimental first generation, swept dual-winged , heavier than air strike craft. Designed with the express purpose of escorting the relatively defenseless Sky Shark class Airship, the Sperbern has only been in active service for a little over eight months, and has thus far not seen active combat up until this point. Compared to other designs, the JL-103 is unique in that its engine is located in the back of the craft, as is the propeller that allows it to fly under its own power. The Swept wings are another novelty, designed to allow increased speed, while the cruciform rudders on the aft portion of the fighter compensate for the loss of mobility. Finally, a quartet of 20mm auto-cannons is housed in the vessel’s blunt nose, capable of firing in both tandem and in simultaneous bursts.
[13] A sticky mixture analogous to Napalm
[14] One of Caterlot’s most iconic landmarks, Clover Field Park is home to over 30 naturally occurring varieties of Clover, and is an Equestrian Heritage site. A gallery of monumental architecture and sculptures located within the park has also resulted in it being a popular tourist attraction.
[15] The RktAt.09 Raketenartillerie-System, nicknamed Sternschnuppen (Shooting Star), is the latest in a line of conventional rocket artillery platforms. A single Sternschnuppen contains a rack mounted battery of 12 liquid fuel Kralle (Talon) Rockets, each rocket containing an armor piercing drill head designed to bore through fortified bunker systems before detonating its 57 kilogram (that is, a little over 125 pounds) payload. The plastic based explosives used are laced with some 12 kilograms of micro-warheads which explode into a shower of razor edged flechettes designed to rip and tear at flesh and thus maximize killing force. The delivery system is capable of launching rockets in sequence or all at once.

These are some of the vehicles and weapons used in the story thus far.

And this depicts a scene from the previous chapter.