The Memory Spill

by LoganofBuals

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Tragedy, Princess Celestia, Human, Iron Will, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 43029

What lengths would you go to for the sake of fitting in? How far will you go to cover your past? These are questions I ask myself every day. But there's one question that will haunt me until death; Am I really the monster?

I, First Lieutenant Anthony Micheals of the Shadow Marines Forces, am the last human alive. I escaped the End War, with the assistance of a very noble scientist, by the use of time stasis. Do I deserved to be saved? Hell no! There are so many other deserving humans who could've taken my place. Im just a slacker who got drafted into Armageddon.
The world I emerged into was very unlike my own. The land of Symphonia, formally known as Britain, to be exact. The population is a hyper advanced race of magical ponies whose only goal is to provide the world with song. They do not believe that I am human, they believe I am just some troll with strange armor. For this, I have been imprisoned in a mine. If I play my cards right, I may be able to get a trial, commonly known here as a Memory Spill, and prove that I am no threat. Let's hope to Christ almighty that they do not find my mistakes...

(Authors notes) this story has been festering in my mind as a full length novel for some time now. I want it to be a sci if story and maybe even get it published. It won't have ponies, and it will be much bulkier than this. I just wanted to make it into a fan fic to see what needs to be worked on the most. Any major plot holes or maybe things that can be added should be written in the comments. Anything negative remarks will be recieved as constructive criticism, followed by a swift reply about your mother. And I know that the whole OC do not steal plz k thx thing is over done, but I mean it. The internet is the lawless Wild West when it comes to ideas, which is why I have several different types of evidence explaining me as the original creator if someone were to steal my story for there own use. It may sound like I have my head up my own ass when I say my story is worth stealing, but I just wanna be careful.

PS I know the whole thing needs to be bulked up, but that's the point of releasing the lanky version to a select few before the general public. (That's the Cormick McCarthy way of writing, and you all see how successful The Road is!)

Published 2014-04-14 09:20:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-28 04:05:51 UTC

A Clean Slate

Darkness. My motionless body sits alone in a caved in room, soaking in an inch of water. The rest of my squad have been cut off from me. Either that, or they've been terminated. Leaving me in solitary confinement. I take a couple of deep breaths, before turning on my suits night vision. Who knows where I could actually be. The suits breathing filter had prevented any smell from alerting me of a dead body. For all I know this room could be filled with a compelation of dead bodies, displayed on the walls like a science fair presentation. A bright flash came over the eye pieces of my mask. Thank god, the room was just a barren, concrete sewer room, with the entrance covered in debree. Still, it left me with a feeling of loneliness.

I always loathed the feeling of being alone. It's nice to be alone with my thoughts, but the feeling of being cut off from the world only made it uncomfortable for me. As long as I knew that I had the safe net of always being able to socialize and still be able to co exist with others after being alone, like going outside for a breath of fresh air, then I'd be fine. But if I were to get lost in the woods, I'd begin to feel the isolation burning inside of my heart. Unfortunately for me, the other coexistants in the area are currently ruthlessly ripping each other's tracheas out.

A series of lights began to fire across my eye pieces. My eyes were momentarily blind as a blue light covered my eyes. My HUD finally came back online. The mission was written out on the left eye piece. It stated:

find your way through sewers

infiltrate Great Monarch castle

Overthrow Great Monarch

Of course, it left out the important details. My fellow adrenaline addicted suit wearers would be fooled into thinking they would be the hero who would be paraded around and celebrated as war heroes. I wouldn't be fooled this time. Not because I think myself as smarter than the other Shadow Marines or that I think peace can be achieved if we stopped fighting, but because my adrenaline injector was busted, and thinking with reason was a lot more favorable than being in blind rage at all times.

If anything, I was below standard for the average Shadow Marine. I had a mesomorph body type. Meaning I was tall, but lanky compared to my fellow soldiers. I never lifted a weight in my life, but somehow, my stupidity managed to land me in replacement Shadow Marine duty. It was my misfortune to be the exact height of someone much stronger and skilled than myself. When he bit the dust, it was my duty to don his suit and take over his responsibilities, which mainly included killing everything that wasn't on our side of the fence. I never wanted to fight, or kill, or even participate in this bloodbath. All I want is out! Out of this End War! I want to go back to my family ranch, back in America. But after today, there won't be a home to go back to. The least I can ask for is a comfortable place to crawl up and die before this war takes us all.

And here's the real kicker. My suit can't be removed without permenate spinal damage. The artificial nerve enhancer and spinal armor appears to be a metal spine replica covered in lights and wires, but when attached to a host spine, enhances every single sense in your body. Not the five senses you learned in kindergarten, but the actual thirty or so senses that were discovered in the past few years, including: quick time thinking, time perception altering, body heat gauging, memory enhancer, and strengthened immune systems and bodily repair functions along with the Emergency Stem Cell gel dispenser built into the spine. But if the spine was to be removed without the expertise of a master surgeon or the technical prowess of a Shadow Marine engineer, the nerves below my fourth spinal disc would be severed, which would leave me unable to use my lungs. I would die, fully conscious of my surroundings, in a lifeless husk of a body.

The commanding officers over seeing the Shadow Marine initiative did this on purpose. They knew that they could scare their soldiers into fighting if the other alternative was death. Heartless bastards. If only they knew how badly I needed a shave, or how much I desired to eat food again, rather than ingest nutrition supplements from the suits mouth peace. Oh well. What's the use in complaining? We're all going to die anyways.

There was nothing out there that would keep us from getting killed. No strategy, no amount of force, and no number of soldiers being thrown at the castle itself would stop our immediate deaths. We didn't have any reinforcements or any plan to extract the wounded. It's actually odd how many safety nets we were granted back home. If we were in danger, we could call the police. If we're ill or have anxiety, we go to the doctor. Even if we're a little sad, we have family and friends to keep us from doing anything stupid. It's like the Truman Show, where society wants to keep you alive as long as physically possible, just so you that you could continue doing whatever you were doing for society without question. Non of that matters now, we blew every single possible chance of maintaining society with this war.

All the safety nets had been taken from us. We were on our own. Our last stand if you will. Now, I now that dying to preserve modern society is something worth fighting for, but fighting for the preservation of humanity is a greater cause. And human instinct is telling me to do whatever possible to preserve my life.

I opened up the strategy menu built into my suits HUD, and scrolled through any sort of infiltration technique that could save the world. I had high doubts that there was anything that could save us. We were wasting resources on a battlefield that was too heavily guarded to begin with. However, the Great Monarchy has prepared their nukes for firing. Our leaders thought we could prevent this if we threw everything we got at them, truth be told theirs no way around this. In a couple of hours, over 10,000 nuclear devices will be fired at any area that isn't The Great Monarchy. Any surviving ACA soldiers will proceed to return fire with their nukes. Several Ally citizens have retreated to the mass bunkers. Each bunker, filled with its own wild life, food growing system, and society, is now absolutely overflowing with scared human beings. I have high doubts that any of them will survive. Even if the nukes do not destroy the bunkers, the radiation should remain in the air for many years to come. And they do not have enough resources to keep going for that long. I guess this means the end of all life as we know it.

I better find a nice place to die. The ACA can't do anything about deserting the battlefield if they're too busy being blown to smithereens. Who knows, this suit has decent radiation protection, maybe if I go deeper into this sewer, I'll someone live for a couple seconds longer.

My arms push on the ground as the rest of my body protests the thought of getting up. I feel light headed as I search the room for an exit. The one I came from had been caved in from a mortar round, but there was a maitinence door that lead downwards. I opened it as if I was opening the gates to hell, accepting my fate as I trouged on. I exhale a sigh, and begin my journey to find my final resting place. The walls resembled a former city, filled with life. There was graffiti on the wall, and torn propaganda poster strewn about the place. I used to be bothered by graffiti, it used to remind me of my first home. It used to represent dangerous criminals, or petty crimes. But now, it's the dead language of a dead culture. The entire town of Omsk was destroyed. Either taken by the ACA, or turned into a fortress for the Monarchy. I sighed at the graffiti, and continued through the next door.

The room I entered was much of the same story. Brick walls, graffiti, posters, a couple more doors and a cold concrete floor. There was nothing new, just a severe lack of life. This was no place to die! I don't care if this leads to the darkest sewers imaginable, it would still be an adventure. I must continue on to find a more appropriate demise. I choose the middle door, which lead to a staircase, and continued on my quest.

The stairs were twelve floors in length. I suppose it would be normal for a cities service tunnels to be this long, however every floors tunnels all lead to dead ends. The rooms are all the same, brick walls, graffiti, and doors. All leading to separate rooms on the same floor, with the only exit leading out the door on the staircase. The only floor that had any sort of sign of progress was the seventh. Which had only one hallway that led me away from the main complex. The hall itself must've been half a mile long! I had finally made it to the door, only opening it to find more rooms. There's got to be something going on. Someone's hiding something. And I think it would be nice if my final moments are of adventuring into some sort of conspiracy.

The hallways became more and more complex, adding trick doors that lead no where and doors that lead to thirty foot drops. I had to go deeper into this rabbit hole. I entered every room with extreme caution, treating it as some sort of ancient temple, filled with many different traps. With every new room, I began to notice that the setting switched from maitinence to militaristic.The filthy concrete floor had donned a metal walkway in the center. The brick walls filled with former life were replaced with concrete slabs with metal lining.

The graffiti was replaced with restricted area signs. I finally came to a large maintenance elevator at the end of a dead end. I reluctantly entered, pressing the basement level button. The elevator shook and shuttered, sparks firing off the sides. The elevator descended into darkness. I wondered if their was salvation for me. Perhaps I'd find a bunker that was just deep enough that had room for one more, I could be saved. I'd do anything to be saved.

The elevator had finally came to a furious halt, forcing me to catch my balance momentarily. The doors opened to reveal a large circular corridor that lead to an incredibly large vault door. Halfway to the vaults door, I came to the realization that anything could be beyond its circular metal latch. Monarchs, rebels, or even the superhumans! Thankfully for me, I am never under equipped. The ACA employed the idea that our Shadow Marines should never be unarmed. They brought this dea to the highest engineers and scientists in all the western hemisphere to work on a solution. The result was the Worm Hole Armory. It was a giant cube facility, over five hundred feet tall, wide, and long that we, somehow, filled with guns, ammo, medical supplies, basic supplies, and entire memory base of music for entertainment. Even after storing 89% of our weaponry in the Armory, they still had an incredible amount of room for storage. So, ACA decided that the Shadow Marines would look more fierce in the eyes of our enemies if we carried a variety of swords, axes, and other impressive melee. While I do enjoy using a sword to fight bad guys, it was impractical. There's a reason we don't use swords in modern society, and that reason in guns. The rest of the spare space in the Armory was used to build a forge to fix the weapons we broke.
After all the possible additions were successfully installed and tested, the cube itself was launched into space, then (using the wormhole technology) was transported into a parallel universe. The facility would then remain in that empty sub space, while continuing to be fully functional, for the rest of time. There were no suns or planets in the area, so there was no chance of accidently crashing into anything else. If the facility was damaged by a meteor storm or extra terrestrial life, the facility is equipped with self repair units and several defense systems. Then, from that universe, it can store each individual Shadow Marines weapons, ammo, and supplies in a safe environment. When a Shadow Marine needs a weapon, all he does is imagine the weapon. The sensors in his mind will read the brainwave patterns and notify the Armory. Then, using wormhole technology, create a black haze in the palm of your hands. All you had to do was move your hand in slightly into the portal grab the handle of whatever you spawned. Any additional items acquired can be stored in the armory, like Monarch intelligence or priceless artifacts, by placing them inside the black cloud. With an infinite supply of weapons and ammo, I decided to spawn my favorite revolver.

The vault door was slightly ajar when I arrived to it. I inspected it cautiously. It was just large enough for me to squeeze through. I stuck the revolver in first, the followed in suit through the opening in the door, only to find that this was not a bunker. It was a scientific research facility. I stepped uneasily into the the lobby of the facility.
Ffzt..."Hello? Who are you? State your business into the microphone on the south wall...err you're left..." A mysterious voice ordered in a Spanish accent.

I approached the microphone with caution. This man could be another Doctor Mendele for all I know. After all, it's defcom 1, no one will come to my aid if I get captured and tortured. But I can't give up, I will do whatever I can to continue my life. And you know what they say, "Go out with a bang, not a whimper".

"Hello? This is...Er, Anthony. Lt. Anthony Micheals. I...I guess I'm here because I don't want to die."

"Do you have a fear of space, and are you physically fit and able to survive on your own?"

"Ehh...I'm not afraid of space, and I can handle myself."

"Perfect! Come and find me. And hurry up the end of the world is in a few hours, and it won't wait for you to sight see my office!"

The door next to the microphone clicked, and opened by itself. I stepped through the door with confidence. I still don't know if he is friend or foe, but I have a feeling thing that he's going to help me. I passed through several offices and walked by many abandoned work stations before finally getting to a large set of double doors. I pressed through the them to find a decontamination room. The doors shut behind me. A series of lasers passed over my body, removing every germ from the premises. The doors ahead of me opened revealing a large chamber like room. Almost like a former nuclear silo. However, the nuke it should've been housing was missing, and replaced by a smaller , 30 foot tall rocket like pod with a spot for one person inside. The scientist approached me.

"Mr. Michaels! Dr. Steven Rodriguez, at your service." He extended his hand out.

"Eh, pleasure to meet you. What's going on here?"

"I will explain everything, come with me for a sec." He politely said.

I was lead into a room connected to a silo. It looked like some sort of high school science lab, but without sinks or those funny gas pipes. The walls were covered with White boards, each was covered in equations and different graphs. The tables were littered with notes and binders filled with more notes. Dr. Rodriguez ran to the other side of the room, digging through a drawer. It felt uncomfortable with the silence of him digging.

"Wow, there sure are a lot of notes. Who wrote all of these?"

"Myself, you get a lot of free time when everyone holding you back is dead!"

Alright, maybe it was a bad idea to make small talk, but I have a feeling he won't tell me what the plan is if I don't get him talking.
"Err...what is this place?"

"I suppose that it's not exactly top secret anymore. This was a former nuclear missile construction site. They hired me to help develope a new type of nuclear explosive."

"A new type? What do you mean by that?"

"The Great Monarchs wanted a nuclear explosion that will soak the earths soil with harmful chemicals and nuclear fallout. It would ensure that nothing will grow on the Western Hemisphere for the next five hundred years," The doctor said," The nuke was so large, that the original scientist who created the schematics for it needed it to be constructed from six different silos. They also requested that the construction of said parts were overseen by a Robotics Engineer and a Nuclear Physicist, both at the top of their respected fields."

Dr. Rodriguez proceeded to the next shelf, after snatching a small jar of a clear sludge. The jar was quickly hidden in his lab coat pocket. The Dr proceeded to a shelf under his desk. He began searching that one for only gods knows what. He looked up in my direction, and further explained,"Our construction team was assigned to assemble the fission engine. The science team was assigned to create a formula for a type of fallout that would soak into the Earths soil. We were the last phase of the project, so our parts and formula would be sent straight to Moscow, and be added to the nuke. Once that was finished, the deadly missile would be ready to fire, and end all life on the Western Hemisphere," the doctor further explained. A smirk came across his face as he mischievously said,"But, the part of the formula that I and my colleagues contributed will ensure that it does not play out like that."

"How so?"

The doctor looked up from the desk to explain with greater pride. Eyes locked, and his smug grin widening further, he explained," The Monarchs do not allow the scientists from other construction sites to communicate to one another. They knew that if we were to converse, we would join minds, we would create a weapon that would dud without risk of premature detonation. We could not join together to save billions of lives, so we followed orders." The Doctor continued to place more components into his pockets, then ran to the other side of the room to examine a chart located on a nearby table. He excitedly proclaimed," However, they were not as brilliant as myself. For my formula would delude the radiations effects, and still be subtle enough to look like a success. The most that the radiation could do is change how your eyes process light!"

"Okay, what's the plan here. Why did you want me?"

"You're a soldier, and a sane one too. You would be more likely to survive than the others."

"Dare I ask, survive what?"

"The future." He responded with excitement as he hurried himself to me. "Here relax, I'll explain everything. Take a seat," he said.
"Eh...sure" I reluctantly accepted. There was something off about this man, but he said that I could be saved. So I'll take my chances. I leaned forward and sighed heavily. Dr. Rodriguez proceeded to combine all of the ingredients together in a syringe. I assumed he was making something for himself. I felt like I needed to trust him more if I was to get results, so I didn't mind.

"Tell me, Antonio. How much do you weigh?"

"Err, with the suit, 435 pounds. But regular body weight, 195 pounds. Why?"

"Oh..." He said as a needle was injected into the medical injector port on the back of my neck. "...for this!" Damn it! Whatever he injected me with was fast acting. I felt my body go limp, I tried to move my fist but it wouldn't budge. I can't believe it never phased me that he was going to drug me. I'm such an idiot! I knew I shouldn't have trusted this man. My first response to the Doctors betrayal was a stern and manly punch to the throat. I tried to lift my fist, but my arm refused to budge. I'm using all of my strength to bring swift justice to his face, but my body was buried in very strong resistance. I feel like I'm trying to swim in concrete.

"Don't pass out on me just yet! I wouldn't want to send you off without any clue of what's going on!" He said as he plunged another needle in my neck. I tried my hardest to respond, I truly did. I focused all of my energy on my jaw, and managed to mutter out," Ffffuck....y..y-you.."

"Shh, Antonio. I understand you rage, but you would never agree to do this willingly." He moved across from me, pulling up a chair in front of me. I wanted answers, I just wanted to know if we were spending our last hours in some freaky fantasy or is he actually here to help me!

"Look, amigo, humanity is doomed. The vaults can hold the animals and plant life easily, but the people cannot survive that long together. The food resupply systems are only sufficient in a couple of bunkers. The other hundreds of bunkers will have no other choice but to go out there in the radiation to find food, which will kill them. The only sure way to be safe is to momentarily leave the planet.

The doctor rose from his seat, and slowly walked to the doorway to stare at the pod. He then spoke up,"I've spent the last couple of years on this rocket with the robotics engineer, Dr. Goodwell. We designed it as a way out, in case the world really did end. When we evacuated the city for fear of nuclear retaliation, Dr. Goodwell was murdered by one of the head engineers for a spot in our side project. That's when I decided that a brilliant mind cannot withstand the stress of what the future holds, let alone the stress of war. But a soldier is trained for stress."

The doctor turned to me and began to walk forward," That is where you come in, amigo. It has room for only one, the rest is space for the AI and the stasis systems. It will send you into orbit and slow time inside of the pod. You can then, wait for the radiation to die out, and land when life becomes hospitable on Earth again. The AI will notify you of any major changes, it has built in scanners that monitor and identify any events that you would find interesting. As for the second thing I injected you with, well...it's kind of an experiment. It will help your brain better communicate with the wormhole technology. As well as the hologram program built into your suit. Basically, your weapons will spawn quicker and holograms will form more complex creations."

My vision started to blur, I could feel myself falling asleep. My eyelids began to shut as red flashing lights began to shine on my motionless body.

"Looks like that's your cue, amigo"

I was pushed on the rolly chair I was sitting on towards the rocket. The glass pod section opened up, and revealed a faux leather sort of bed for me to lie on. With much difficulty, Dr. Rodriguez lifted me from the chair into the pod, and sealed it tight.

"Don't worry, amigo. I've lived a full life, but if you could mention me in the future, that'd be nice too."

The adrenaline in my body started to wake me up. I was going to time travel in space. Despite the improbability of it actually working, I was excited. What future can I expect? Will I be taken to a new world of wonder, or a crater of death? The rocket began to lift slightly. It was preparing to launch me. I could feel it readying its engines.

"Goodbye."

There was a prick in my neck, the pod had injected me with another serum. This one was similar to Dr. Rodriguez's muscle relaxer. This one is more date rape-y, I can feel myself lose control of my movements. Everything began to slow as the pod lifted itself off the ground. My eyesight was blurring, and breathing itself became a chore.

I closed my eyes as the sound of explosions and death lulled me to sleep....

......................................................................

My eyes began to flutter open. A voice had just come over the pod. It was the now busted A.I. Trying to inform me that I am awake. Good thing it did, I obviously wouldn't be aware.

Congratulations...you have been asleep for 3....

"Three" what exactly. I highly doubt it was only three years, but I'm still worried that I might be somewhere i don't want to be. What new wonders does this world hold for me, will I find a nuclear wasteland, filled with radioactive mutant people for me to kill? Or will I find a new Utopia, where there is no war. Or maybe the computer was wrong, and I'm about to die from nuclear fallout. Any of those options would be better than dying in a pod due to paranoia.

My hand wakes from its own slumber and reaches towards the front of the pod case, making its destination a crank that will fire the door off of the pod. My hand wrapped around itself around the lever, and began yanking. I had not fully waken up yet, so this was my first true test to see if I can survive in this world. My other hand goes to assist, but the lever would not budge. One last yank finally managed to move the lever and free me from my metal coffin.

Fwomp!!! The door fired off into the new world. I expected blinding light, but was greeted with a dark abyss. My night vision switched on, and helped me process where I was. I had landed in a forests area with a small clearing in front of me, similar to the forests you'd find in middle North America or even just in Northern Europe. But there was something off. They looked, less textured. They looked almost like they came straight out of a cartoon. My body flopped out of the pod and onto the earth. My hands ran through the grass to see if grass still worked as individual strands or if it was just a giant green blob on the ground. My fingers combed through the green abyss to make out single threads of grass. I suppose the knew that the radiation would have permanent effects, but I didn't think I would make the entire planet look like a god damn episode of Ren and Stimpy. Unlike Ren and Stimpy, it made sense. The grass had consistency, it wasn't stretchy or bouncy, it just felt like regular grass. I reached to pick up a nearby rock to see if it would have cartoonish style properties. Throwing the rock at a tree revealed no bouncing stars or silly sound effects, only the sound of stone striking wood. This must've been the work of Dr. Rodriguez's formula. I'm glad it worked, but I didn't expect the nuclear fallout to be this efficient at light perception.

My body protested as I forced myself up. The drug had not left my body quite yet, which was shown in my incredible lack of balance. I managed to stumble over to the edge of the clearing, with a high score of twelve intoxicated steps before stumpling onto another tree to catch my balance. I felt like passing out, but a thought occurred before I allowed myself to do so. If this planet is still occupied by people, then they must have civilization. And a large amount of post war civilizations can either be kind and loving or kill on sight barbarians. This armor can only keep me alive after a certain amount of punishment before I can die, so if any sort of hostile scouts were to see my pod crash down, my adventure would be cut short. I managed to muster the energy to force my body past the tree and into the bushes at the edge of the clearing. The time had finally been imputed into my HUD, it stated:

May 24, 35657. 23:17

Awesome, my clock is busted. There was no physical way that I could've been up there for over thirty thousand years. I dismissed the clock back into the HUD menu and began rest my eyes. I tried to muster the strength to hide myself better by covering myself in a branch, but it was now impossible to even try. Hopefully, nothing will notice me...
..........................................

I had awoken to the sound of voices. My eyes were a still slightly blurry, but I could now slightly comprehend what I was looking at. There appeared to be five grey blobs and three white blobs. I suppose these were men in uniform, seeing as how they were speaking to each other. The voices were muffled, but from body- err blob language and muffled yet shouted commands, I could tell that the gray ones wanted the white ones to examine my pod. At least I think that's the case. My hearing started to clear up as I could make out a specific voice.

"...not gonna ask again, Symphonian swine! You will tell us what this is or you will be responsible for the invasion of Symphonia! Do you want that? What would Equestria do with out the ability to sing? Nothing! Your countries existence is a joke!"

Odd how they were speaking English, I'd expect the new world to have a new and futuristic sci fi language, but it saves me the trouble of having to learn a new way of speaking. Plus, it will make it easier to become friends if I can understand them. I have a feeling that the grey blobs might be the bad guys here. The white blob began to struggle before muttering something.

"We...don't know! This looks like its from the future or something! Honestly!"

"You expect me to believe the lies of your kind?"

"Please! I'm telling the truth!"

"Well, looks like I get the honor of killing you here then!" They grey blob exclaimed as he drew out what appeared to be a spear. I needed to do something. I don't know if these white blobs are actually better than the grey ones, but they're a hell of a lot friendlier than them. The drugs had mostly exited my body, so I was able to lift myself, spawning a revolver in hand. It was the only weapon that had an abundance of spare rounds, so it will be the ideal weapon to scare off anyone fore the next couple of months or so. They must have notice me attempting to walk towards them as they turned around.

"What in the name of all that is dark is that thing!?" One of the grey blobs exclaimed.

"No clue, but it looks like a troll in armor, kill it!"

Before they could act upon their words, I pointed my firearm to the sky and fired. Bang! The kickback felt like a jolt of electricity shooting down my arm, straight to my spine. The sheer force knocked the right side of my body backwards. It may not have looked that manly to get knocked back by a pistol, but it looks like they don't know what it is, it must look pretty powerful to them.

They backed off for a good second before approaching again. My arm was still en-pained by the shot, but still moved forward to fire again, I aimed carefully at the center blob. My finger ached as it pulled the trigger. BANG! The bullet had traveled through the middle blobs, what I assume, head as blood splattered through the backside of him. He fell towards me, the rest backing up. I aimed towards the left blob and fired twice more. Bang! Bang!!! Two through the chest. He fell to the Earth as the other grayish black blobs escaped into the night. The white blobs appeared to be crawling towards the spear the gray blob dropped.

It took all of my strength to fight, I needed to rest again. I made sure that my revolver was stored back in my suit, before collapsing. My eyes began to blur again, but the face of the deceased combatant was now visible. I managed make out the face of my advisory, before shutting my eyes again. It was an odd face for a normal person. I'm sure it was a mask, but why would anyone make a mask of a weird bat creature. I drifted into sweet slumber as I felt my leg being lifted, and my body began to be dragged...

Author's Note

Feel free to notify me of any sort of corrections or existing potholes. My current editor is more wasted than ur mum lol.

Murder is the new fad

The sounds of metal clashing with stone had made for an excellent alarm clock. It was just irritating enough to awaken me from my slumber. My eyes were still slammed shut, refusing to acknowledge the day, but my mind was very much awake and now stirring with questions. How long have I actually been out? Who are the good guys here, the people in black or the people in white? Why do I hear the sounds of mining around me? But there was one question that stood out from the rest, it was the kind of realization that makes one shoot out of their beds in fear. Where the hell am I?!

My head shot upwards as I spawned a revolver in hand. Analyzing my surroundings, it wasn't hard to guess that I was in a mine. The room I resided in was just a mines out hole with a few wooden boards and load bearing posts on the walls. There were a few lanterns residing on these posts, but the mine was still hard to see in. The entrance to this room was a tunnel with the floor of it lined with tracks and a mining cart at the bottom of those tracks. The opposite wall of the room had several chips and scratches on the wall, my most logical guess was that whoever is in charge here wants me to mine. There was a note by my leg. Dismissing the fire arm from my presence, my hand reached down to examine the mysterious letter. I could've sworn that the drugs were still affecting my vision, because the text was written using the alphabet I was familiar with, but it was all scrunched together. It almost looked like the western alphabet and the acrylic alphabet had a deformed love child. I summoned my HUD to see if I could support my theory that I have contracted drug induced dyslexia. My suits menu had opened up, reading out:

Menu: suit options:
Vital signs)
Map)
Inventory)
Targeting assistance)
Communication)
Entertainment)
System)

It was a relief to know that my eyes were still fully functional, but even more worrying that I have one less way of communicating with the inhabitants here. It was always a deep frustration of mine to attempt to try to understand someone of another language. I do remember the inhabitants speaking English from my arrival, so I'm saved the inconvenience of learning a new language, but that still means it would take a great deal of effort to understand any novel by them or even understand a street sign. My hand fell to the rock below me, only to make a metal on metal clink followed by a rattle. There was a chain sitting in the pebbles on the ground. My hands grabbed on and began pulling to find that the chain had been connected to the post I was resting on and my own ankle. Someone doesn't want me leaving, but it also means that someone is grossly underestimating my abilities. My inventory has(among the array of guns, explosives, and bad ass "intimidation" melee weapons) a saw capable of breaking this chain. I could break this chain easily and shoot my way out. Perhaps even escaping this mine and finding refuge in a forest somewhere. But there was something keeping me from doing this. I felt like my submissive nature came from the desire to be accepted. Maybe if I played along, I would be able to eventually be welcomed into this society. I know that most people wouldn't be able to trust a metal man with an armory of guns at his disposal, but there's more to me than that.

I figured that if humanity has gone back to believing that witchcraft exists, I could use my hologram entertainment system. It was initially installed in this suit to make tribal warriors in third world countries believe that we were magic, by creating images by using hologram programs directly linked to our mind. Thankfully, we were never deployed there, so these tricks were never used. It was still entertaining to use the projection system from time to time. To ensure it still worked, I focused on the ground next to my leg, and imagined a squirrel. Sure as the sky was blue, a squirrel appeared next to me, happily twitching its tail and investigating me. Hmm. Let's give him armor, and a sword. A shiny metal coat covered the squirrel as he equipped a sword in hand. I gave a light chuckle towards the ridiculousness of my new friend as I dismissed him.

I decided that it would be a while before any one noticed that I was awake, so it was time to just sit back and rest my exhausted muscles. My body sank lower into the ground, feeling of a steam operated machine releasing its pressure valves. Nothing felt better than relaxing after working hard. My mind was further cleared, but a new question appeared. Why am I even doing this? I have an armory at my disposal! I could just as easily fired a warning round in the air and been declared King of the Mines. So why wasn't this my current goal? I searched for an answer, thinking desperately for a reason I wasn't holding my captives in captivity. The best answer I could muster was that using my guns would create a Cold War KGB stealing nuke secrets from the US situation. I wouldn't want this new race learning of a more effective way of ending each other. My eyes began to close, signaling the rest of me that I was successfully drained of energy. However, my mind was still aflutter with the actual reason behind me cowardly attitude. It was the fear of being a monster in there eyes permanently.
***

I had finally ridden the anxious thought and began to drift of into slumber, when I received a sharp jab to my shoulder. I could here a voice, demanding something of me over the illusion of rest. My thoughts of slumber were dismissed as my senses began to perceive the world around me again. The darkness of the mine shaft mixed with the yelling had caught me off guard. The voice came from behind me. "What are ya, nuts? What in the name of Harmonia are ya doing?" Damn. I had a feeling it was expected of me to dig. Looks like I'll have to lie my way out of this one.

"I'm sorry, I was taking a break."

"A break? Trolls don't need breaks!"

"Well I'm not a troll, so I don't know where this leaves us,"

"You're not here to rest, freak. You're here to work."

I began to turn my body to respond to the voice as I asked,"You know, I was beginning to wonder, why am...I...." There wasn't anyone there. Only a small horse in body armor. It was nice body armor, too! Solid gold color, several patterns etched into the metal, and a treble clef carved into his gold helmet. The helmet itself appeared to have Spartan influence, but instead of the traditional red flair, had a purple one to replace it. On the side of the guard was series of clips, grasping a sharpened spear. I suppose it acted as a sheath of some sorts.

"Err, where'd you go?"

The pony opened its mouth and replied," Are you serious?!"

I jumped to feet and backed away from him."Oh Christ! I was not expecting that!"

It appeared that he took offense to that. His face snarled as he replied,"What? You've never seen a pony before?"

"I have! Just not one that talks!"

"Oh, and where did you meet them?"

"The past, I guess."

"You can't honestly be from the past. You're a troll in armor, and you're going to work for us."

"Can I ask why?"

"You know why, troll. And while we're on the topic, don't try any of thing stupid while you're here."

"Do elaborate on what counts as 'stupid'."

"That little trick that spawns flintlocks. We saw what you did when we found you. If you try to pull that off again, we will end you!"
I know it wasn't exactly difficult to figure out I that could do that. Damn. They already think I'm a war machine. But I only used my revolver that night, they have no clue on what else I'm capable of.

"What if I promised to not use my guns? I'm a nice guy, really. You have my word"

"You're joking right? Trolls only promise when they're trying to trick somepony into being eaten!" It's starting to become evident that they wont believe I'm not a troll. But what can I do to convince them? I dont want to kill anymore, so force is out of the question. I'll have to think of something later.

"Besides, even if we did trust you, we'd just keep you here. You're in prison for a reason!"

"And that reason is?"

"Like I said, you know what you did." I have a feeling that his commanding officer just didn't tell him. "Now is there anything else you wanna ask? I doubt it would matter, seeing how your insignificant brain isn't capable of having memories for more that two weeks." Harsh. Maybe if I could prove that I was more intelligent than a troll, they'd hear me out.

" I assure you, my dearest acquaintance, that I am not some unruly monster."

"Nice vocabulary, must've overheard someone intelligent say those words." I guess trolls learn vocabulary the same way parrots do.

"Fine, I'll wrap up my questions, then I'll get back to work. Is that fine with you?"

"If it'll get you to shut up, then of course!"

"Sigh, how do you know you can stop one of my bullets?"

"We have specialized guards that are trained to halt a bullet or arrow mid air. You're completly powerless when it comes to long range. And if you have any sort of melee weapon, you're even more doomed. Each and every one of the guards is trained in Trot Maga-" Oh god, seriously?! The name puns are unbearable."- and we can and will disarm you and take you to the ground! Understood?!"

"Yes! Jeez. One more question."

"Make it count, troll."

"Do I at least get a trial of some sorts?"

"Ponies get trials, monsters don't!"

"But I'm not a troll, I'm a human!"

"Ha! Humans are just a myth! Now get to work, troll!" The guard ordered as he left me to my work. Odd how trolls are real but humans were just fiction. I tried figuring out how nuclear war would lead to talking cartoon ponies and other fairy tale creatures coming to life. It would've had to be hundreds of thousands of years for that type of evolution to take effect. Maybe the clock in my suit was correct all along. My mind was filled with questions, but I needed to start working if I didn't want him to come back and yell at me again. The pick ax was on the other side of the post, my hand reached down and gripped it firmly. I then made my way over to the wall of the shaft and began striking it with the pick. The clinking noise was apparent, and annoying, so I figured I'd play some music for my self. My menu scrolled down and selected Ms Jackson by Outkast. I started picking at the wall to the beat of the song. My mind was still trying to piece this puzzle together. My current guess was that humans had all died in the bunkers underground, but the garden of Eden animal sanctuaries had prospered. I guess, after several years of mutation and radiation, horses had become sentient and managed to bring the rest of the plants and animals out into the world. I'm also assuming that the cartoonish land scape has something to due with radiation affecting what light is reflected, making it hard to differ details on anything. Or maybe some entity had decided that the world was ugly, and needed to look more like a Nickelodeon fever dream. What then struck my mind was the thought of a world with trolls! I can only imagine that they have the stereotypical troll: blue or green skin, large teeth, disgusting habits, and habits of eating young children.

The pick continued to strike the rocky cave wall for several more hours. My biceps were aching, and starting to give out. Thank god almighty that the cooling system in my suit still was functional. Like a refrigerator, the suit had multiple chemicals circulating through vein like compartments throughout the suit, creating chemical reactions that take away heat and vent through the suits metal. However, it wasn't enough to keep my muscles from shutting down. While my body would be more toned by the end of this, the pain would last for much longer than that. My pick ax dropped to ground, my body followed in suit. My lungs were on fire, and my skin began to rash from the sweat. One of the worst qualities of this armored exoskeleton was the inability to scratch any itches, like a full body cast. I was submissive before, but if they won't give me any chance of redemption or any sort of trial, then I might as well fight for my freedom. A plan began to shape in my head.

It would have to be non lethal, but show that I am capable of some damage. I still believe that there is a civilized world somewhere out there, but being labeled as a murderer won't help me get accepted anywhere. Maybe I can use the hologram entertainment system to trick them into thinking I'm some sort of powerful wizard, or maybe trolls are into voodoo, and I can fake a curse on them. Perhaps I could find a song to play with my "magic". I don't think that they'd believe me at first, causing certain guards to attempt to bum rush me while I perform my magic show. I'd need a room with a railing, somewhere I can project from a safe distance. I could hologram myself several times over to confuse the guards. I don't know every detail of my suit. I'd need a mirror to study the details before I created an exact replica of myself. I know that my holograph system can generate clouds of smoke, but what of darkness all together? Can I blot out all light sources in said room? I'd need to check to see if there was a room like that in the shaft. When would be a good time to scout the mines for ambush locations? I couldn't just stroll out there willy nilly and just get a good look at my surroundings.

Or could I? As far as I could tell, they only use medieval weaponry, and my suits armor is made of liquid metal, or at least several pads of liquid metal are attached around the suit, which contracts on impact and makes penetration impossible. So that means their weapons are useless, unless they hit a spot without a pad. Plus, they are ponies. Small horses. I may not be the strongest but I bet that I'm stronger than most of them.

No, what am I thinking? That's a terrible idea. They'd probably put me in a solitary confinement or worse yet. My exhaustion is getting the better of my mind, I needed a new plan.

"Troll! Why do I not hear digging?!" The guard shouted from down the shaft. Maybe if I could feign illness, they'll move me to a different room. That'll give me a better chance to view my surroundings and get a better idea of the schematics of this place. The white coated guard entered with an a disappointed look in his eyes.

"How can you possibly be exhausted? You're a troll! You can't get tired!" My anatomy of fictional beings wasn't exactly up to par, but I used to lie all the time to get what I want before the war. Maybe this fib can fool him for the moment. My hands reached for my stomach as I curled up in the fetal position on the gravel.

"Guard!...my organs....they're on fire!" I fibbed to the annoyed guard.

"Oh, boohoo! Does the widdle baby need a nappy? You disgust me with your lies," Okay, maybe I've lost my touch with bluffing. But maybe this can lead to better things for me. I sat up from the hard gravel and turned to him. "Alright, you caught me. But I refuse to dig until I've had a fair trial."

The guard chuckled with disbelief, "Ha! Why would we let an ally of the Vampire ponies have a fair trial!? You were probably on your way to Symphonia to kill more innocents! Am I right? Or am I right?"

Wait, there are vampires now? Seriously? I know that a lot has changed in half a million years, but what sort of evolutionary benefit can one get from vampirism? What's next, dragons? I'll let the obscurity of that thought pass for now.

"No, I was not. I keep telling you that I'm not a troll. Why would you assume that I was if you haven't seen my face?"

"You're too small for a giant, too large for a goblin or a nymph dragon. So, that must mean you're a troll!"

"Well you know what they say about assuming." I responded jokingly," You make an ass out of you and me!"

"My best friend is a mule! How dare you use such a slur!" I have a feeling that further negotiations would be near impossible at this point. I need to start thinking before I say things.

"I wasn't aware that that was a slur! I am sorry!"

"How could you not know? Have you been living under a rock"

"I keep telling you the answer, but you won't listen! I am not a troll!"

"If you're not a troll, then prove it. Take of your mask. Show me your face!"

"I can't!"

"Why?!"

"Because the people who put me in in this suit didn't want it to be removed until they managed to kill everyone on the eastern hemisphere. And since everyone who could possibly remove this has been vaporized, my suit will detonate if an amature tries to remove it!" That was a lie. The real reason was the suits faux spine attached to my real one. It appeared to just detailed armor to make it harder to injure my spine, but it actually latched on to every vertebrae and hooked itself into every nerve possible. This allowed for faster communications between the brain and the body, making my quick time reactions even faster. But, without the assistance of a master surgeon or a cybernetic engineer, it would destroy my spine, killing me almost instantly. And even if I did get it removed, I would be unable to spawn any weapons, and I'm more vulnerable to deaths icy grip without the armor. On top of that, I can't trust these ponies. They locked me up and forced me to work, based on a guess for my appearance. I don't think I'll be making friends with any of them anytime soon. Maybe, on the slightest chance of luck, I'll meet a kind hearted pony who i can trust, but until then I refuse to let go of my armor.

The guard stepped back, cautiously trying to figure out how to handle the situation. He began to ponder the possibilities of what this could mean. I hoped that this also meant that he would believe me and take me away from this unjust punishment. The white pony eyes locked with mine,"Yeah, like you expect me to believe such a lie?" He then turned to the tunnel entrance and shouted,"Hey, Powder Keg! Get over here! We got ourselves a troublemaker!" With his body turned away, I noticed something on his behind. It appeared to be one of those tattoos that really slutty girls would get. What are they called? Skank Flanks? The mark on his rump appeared to be a kite shield with a rose in the center. The top half on my body shifted over to check the other side. As sure as mining was torture, there was an exact identical shield with rose on the other side of his behind. I suppose it was a rank system. Maybe the trainee guards have to wear it, the rose representing they're innocence. I suppose the warden had a tattoo that was a kite shield with a skull on it or maybe multiple spears across it.

After a moment, another pony had arrived to assist. The other guard appeared almost identical to the guard who called for him. It could be the severe lack of detail that made it harder to differentiate. The major differences were that the tattoo on the new pony was of a black powder cannon. His eyes were also a different shade of green than the first guard. And is that a horn sticking out of the guards head? I suppose that means unicorns exist too, I can expect weirder sub genres of ponies to exist as well.

"This guy giving you trouble?" The unicorn guard asked mischievously. The first guard nodded. "Good! It was getting boring around here." The unicorn turned to me.

"You know why my cutie mark is a cannon?"

"Err...why?" I asked.

"Because, my spells are powerful. Like a cannon shot!" His front hoof pushed off the ground, before stamping back into the gravel. His head lowered, horn aimed directly at me. The horn began to conjure energy at the tip, creating a ball of light.

Wait, did he say spells? As in, magic spells?! So, to recap what I have learned from my recent imprisonment, I have traveled from a world of science and logic into a world filled with dragons, talking cartoon ponies, magical unicorns, and a severe lack of understanding. I’m beginning to think that this land was purely fiction. I may still be able to feel the pain from the day of mining, and I can definitely feel the sting of sweat dripping into my eyes, but that does not prove that these creatures are not purely hallucinations. For all I know, I could’ve been hitting a tree with a nearby branch for the past eight hours then proceed to have a light conversation with a raccoon's corpse. If that was the case, then the “spell” would do nothing to harm me.

The unicorn quickly wrapped up charging the spell, and then proceeded to launch his projectile orb directly towards my center of gravity. My arms opened wide, to embrace the ball as nothing. Unfortunately, the ball of energy was very real. Much like Houdini's death, the spell was reminiscent of a strong punch to the gut. The wind was not only knocked, but completely ripped from my lungs. My entire body scrunched over in response, and failed to do anything else. I was unable to breath! Any attempts of inhaling came out as bloody coughs. I lurched over, and fell to the ground. Tiny gasps of oxygen finally made its way into my body, enough to make a response between coughs. “Ugh….Fuck...you…”

“Hey! The use of Draconian words will get you locked in solitary confinement.” The guard shot a glance over to his partner in crime and gave him a smirk.” Or better yet, a beating in the ring of death! Is that what you want, troll?” Draconian words? You mean saying “Fuck” is against the law? If that was the case, I might be considered for the death penalty! However, the ring of death sounded like a good place to start my escape. If it was amongst other prisoners, I could show my dominance as a super soldier, while only using a handgun and a few clever holograms. Even if they forbade weapons, there would be no way for them to take my guns and melee away from my storage unit. And if I had to play fair, my liquid metal gauntlets will still strike my opponent like a Louisville slugger. My body shifted onto my stomach as I began to rise.

“Cough...Hey guard.” The cannon pony looked to me with a lack of patience. “Go fuck yourself, now take me to the ring.” I ordered with mischievous intent. The cannon guard barked back,”Oh, is that what you really want? Well, no skin off my haunch! Bag ‘em up, and take him to the ring! Make sure he goes up against Itch first!”

A burlap sack was placed over my visor, but I could still hear my surroundings. One of the guards had unhooked my chain from the post, while the other hooked another chain to my ankle. There was some shuffling to follow, but I then found myself being dragged away from the shaft. It was actually kind of soothing, being dragged through each corridor. The suit contracted appropriately for each rock or bump, so the whole feeling of this torturous transportation felt like being dragged on a padded red wagon. The only sound I could hear were of pickaxes, and occasional screaming. A part of me felt horrified for what cruel punishments lie in my future, but the majority of me was thinking ‘Phew! Glad I’m not those guys! That would really suck!’ Which only added to the red wagon feeling. It was reminiscent of the times in middle school when I would get in trouble. Whenever I was placed in In School Suspension, they'd force me to take out the waste cylinders in every class. It was hard, and I still hated it, but every classroom I scrounged for waste had at least thirty other kids who would rather collect garbage than hear about how Canada managed to successfully conquer Eastern Russia in WWIII. And I knew that the ultimate punishment was waiting for me at home when my parents would chew me out and take my Gamesphere for the next month. With that in mind, I had decided to enjoy the little things. Like how I was getting a good workout, or for every classroom that I poked my head into, I felt a little better about my predicament. And for every new torturous mine shaft they dragged me through, I felt a little better for not being them. After around ten minutes of dragging, and a well deserved nap, the guards had finally stopped. “Stand up troll,” the guard barked as the sack was removed from my head. My eyes groggily opened as a yawn escaped my body. I was in the center of a very large mining shaft. It was a round room with closed off tunnels on the north, west, east, and south sides of the room. Each of these tunnel entrances were gated by giant steel gates of no return. The room itself was at least two hundred feet tall. At around the fifty foot mark upwards was a balcony that also circled the room. A guard railing made for a nice touch, and several spotlights shining on the center of the ring made it very hard to tell who was behind them. This balcony was definitely filled with an audience, whether it was guards or other inmates was a mystery. A voice was heard through the steel gate behind me. "You wanted a fight, swamp monster? Fine by us! But know that only one of you will exit this ring alive! And our bits are on the nymph dragon. Bring out Itch!" A guard had shouted from the railings.

The door opposite of me began to shake, and slowly rise, to reveal a long dark mining shaft. Darkness was the only thing viewable from the mining shaft, until the figure of a small bony creature started to manifest. Out from the darkness walked a reptilian creature covered in leather armor, with many pockets and sheaths for various knifes and vials of glowing liquids. He must have had at least ten separate blades on him! The reptilian creature himself had blue scales and a creamy yellow underbelly. He stood on his hind legs, which looked odd for a creature of his build. His arms and legs were lanky, but had well defined muscles. His face was long, like a crocodile, but was hiding away behind a leather gas mask. His claws were holding jagged looking knifes which looked eager to find blood. Once inside the arena, the gate behind him dropped and slammed into the raw earth below. My opponent let out a shrill battle cry, before forming into his battle stance. Like the guard noted before, this was a fight to the death. I was determined to make sure that this did not end in blood. Maybe I could show them that I was not the murderous monster that they thought I was. It's a land of magical ponies for christ's sake, they have to be a naturally peaceful race. Perhaps they just set this up because they were afraid of me.

I took a few steps forward, before announcing to the audience above me,"People of this land! I will not fight this dragon!" a small gasp followed by booing followed my statement. I continued,"Please do not be upset! I am a peaceful creature! I do not wish to fight! I only wish too-," my statement was cut short as a sharp pain entered my gut. My head shot down to view the jagged knife, intruding from my gut. He managed to hit a section of my armor that was not covered with liquid metal. The proud drake turned to the crowd with arms up, attempting to get a more lively cheer from the others. I could hear them cheering on the dragon, wanting him to kill me. My peaceful demeanor was beginning to die away, as a strong and painful anger entered my body. I haven't felt an anger like this since middle school, when I lost a fight to some punk in my gym class. It was the kind of anger where you could feel your face get hot, and feel tears welling in your eyes. The kind of anger where you start making excuses for yourself to be violent, like I was provoked or he had it coming. My good conscious in my mind was absent, the angel on my shoulder had been slain, and all thought processes in my mind had turned from 'Show them you are not a monster' to 'Make that son of a bitch suffer!'

My hand gripped the handle of the blade and began to pull. Blood began to spill down from the wound to the earth. The wound was painful, a fiery burn in my lower body only fueled my anger. The knife was finally free, as my hand yanked it from the hole in my gut. I dropped the blade, and selected the auto med in the suits menu. A message box came over the screen and notified me that cauterizing was to begin. The crowd stood in awe as my wound began glowing bright orange, burning my organs and stopping the blood flow. I tried to scream in agony, but my diaphragm was the current victim of this stabbing, making any vocal expression impossible. A new message box appeared on my screen, notifying me that emergency stem cell gel (ESC gel) was applied to the wound. The gel would replace the damaged tissue that the knife wounded, and restart any organs that happened to fail from such a blow. With my diaphragm beginning to fix itself, I finally had the lung capacity to respond with pain,"...I...will (cough)...fucking END YOU!"

A machete was spawned in my right hand, and a riot shield spawned in my left. I could've spawned a gun and ended him quickly, but I had a crimson red rage burning in my soul, so killing him quickly would bring no satisfaction. I want to kill him with as much pain as possible. Hoisting the shield in front of me, I prepared for battle.

My opponent drew a new, non jagged, knife from on of his various sheaths and sprinted to fight. Just before he got to my shield, the drake side stepped to my right and attempted to stab me. In response, I stepped back and bashed him with my shield, Spartan style. He fell to the ground, before rolling back to his feet. He reached in his bandoleer of knifes to throw his next sharp friend in my general vicinity. My left forearm reached up to block. A loud thunk was heard, the knife had struck my shield instead of myself. It was only a distraction, by the time I looked back to my opponent, he was already two feet away. He jumped, and brought his fist to my mask. The pain swelled around my right cheek as I stepped back in response. He was preparing for the finishing blow. With his other jagged sword in hand, lunged for my body. He thought he caught me off guard. He thought wrong, my foot fired up to my body, aimed itself, and rocketed into Itch's gut. The rest of his body wrapped around my leg, followed by him falling to the ground. His knife was thrown from his hand. He tried to crawl away, but now was my chance. The shield disappeared from my left hand and crumpled up into a fist. I stomped towards my winded foe as he crawled away from me. My left hand reached down and wrapped around his neck. His back arched, his hands reached back up to grab for my arm. His manged to gasp out," You're...worse...than the rest of us!" My blade angrily responded by plunging into his back. The satisfying Schlick noise brought an slight grin to my face, encouraging me to push the blade harder, to hilt into the scales on his back. The blade began to vanish into thin air, allowing Itch to fall to the floor. The crowd began cheering, a few spectators began shouting for me to finish him off. So many years of pain were building up in my head, I wanted him to suffer more. I could still hear the little voice in my head telling me to leave him alone. I ignored this voice, as my boot raised to hover over the dying drakes skull. With a loud grunt, my foot stomped down into my opponents skull, crushing it with one strike. Chunks of gray matter were stuck to the bottom of my boot. A pool of blood soaked the dirt surrounding. The crows went wild in the sight of blood.

I calmed down, and realized what I have done. God damn it. I've been here less than a week, and I've already brutally ended a life. The paranoia section of my body knew that I would fail to make any sort of peace with these creatures. I must've been a fool to think that cruelty would've ended with humanity. I began to lightly sob at my victory, knowing that I could never redeem myself as a peaceful creature. I will forever be labeled as a monster.

Several guards opened the gate behind me, one of them shouting orders. I couldn't make them out, I was too caught up in the moment. Another bag was placed over my head. A rope was tied around my wrists behind my back, and a chain was tied to my feet. The chain yanked my foot from under me, allowing myself to fall from the earth.

I had never killed on my own free will in my entire life. During the End War, I only killed when under the influence of emotion altering drugs, or if it was under direct orders of a commanding officer. I could have spared him, but I killed instead. I always knew that if I acted on my emotions, it would only lead to trouble. If I had own that fight in middle school, I would've been expelled. I would have that on my record for life, and I would've been labeled as a trouble maker. I knew that if I even fought back, I would be the violent kid of the group. The one that no one wants to talk to. The kid they isolate out of fear. I allowed him to beat me for that reason. But now, I am that person. And I fear that I will be feared for the rest of my life....

Man up for Humanity

It was safe to say that the inside of my mask was disgusting. A mixture of tears, sweat, and snot coated the inner linings of my casing. The rest of my body was weak and it refused to quit shaking. Ten minutes of non stop whimpers and moans of agony came to an abrupt halt.

"Stand" the guard ordered spitefully. After a few kicks to gain any footing, I planted my foot into the ground below. The mixture of hard dirt, gravel, and dust were replaced by the familiar impact of wood. Pressing my faithful boot firmly into the ground below me, my body raised itself.

"Sit" the guard surprised me with as a chair was pushed into the back of my legs, forcing me to fall into my seat. The chains that were connected to my iron cuffs were pulled behind the lumber of my seat. The chains on my legs followed in suit, making it impossible for any movement on my part. The most that I could succeed was a simple turn on the head. The bag on my head was yanked off, revealing the contents of an office. Desk, chair, file cabinets, typewriter, and painting completed the feeling of 1950's work station. Several lanterns on the wall made it bright enough to view everything without stressing the eyes. The main difference was that the walls and ceiling were still stone and carved in a spherical shape. This room was obviously a makeshift office that they had to quickly install. The sound of a door opening and closing came from behind my viewing spectrum. A female voice spoke from behind,"Lock the door, make sure no one interrupts."

"Yes ma'am," the guards responded before leaving our domain. A clicking noise was heard from behind, followed by hoof steps. The mare stepped casually strutted behind the desk and placed herself in the seat opposite to mine. A good view of her in the light revealed that there were a few differences between male and female ponies of this time. For starters, the females had a more rounded skull and a more pointed muzzle compared to the broad muzzle and squared head that the male sported. The mares body type was also different; short and less muscular. Like the cannon-spelled guard for before, she was also a unicorn. The mare had her own features that made her unique too. Her coat was white, just like the rest of the guards. Her hair was orange with yellow streaks descending the pillowy curls of hair. One may find this slightly intimidating from the look of fire, I find it obnoxious. Her eyes were an ember orange. Her, eh, cutie mark was of a shield set ablaze.

Her horn began to glow a bright yellow, forcing me to brace from instinct. I wasn't expecting her to pull a folder from the cabinet behind. I was released to not be burned to a crisp, but it will get hard to understand when one of them is about to fire a beam of energy at me or levitate a biscuit to their mouth. The folder opened and exposed itself across the table. Several photos of the crash site, my unconscious body, the dead bodies of whatever I shot, and the guards from the scene of my arrival. A drawer from her desk opened, and a tape recorder was removed from its home and onto the desk. A yellow glow engulfed the red play button, pushing it inwards. The wheels on the recorder began spinning, recording my every sound.

"State your name and species," the fiery mare commanded.

"Er. Anthony Micheals. Human," I responded in a feeble voice. I was still shaken over the recent incidents. My interviewer gave me a slightly frustrated look and proceeded to rephrase the query.

"Your name and a non fictional species,"

"Define fictional species,"

"You've got to be kidding me,"

"I've, literally, been here for a day. Throw me a bone here," A sigh escaped the mares body as she stated the faux creatures.

"Fictional creatures include: Centaur, Elf, Dwarf, Gnome, Giant, Mermaid, Leprechaun, D'jini, and Human. And since you have no evidence that you are a furless primate, you are most likely a delusional troll. So let's try this again. State your species."

I could've gone with the flow and said troll, improv'd some bullshit stories, and found a way to cooperate with whatever this was. I could've made a deal for my release and live my life as a troll. I could've just accepted my fate and fate unravel it's nasty plans. Logically, it's the best way of getting out of here.

"Human..."

But where's the fun in that? For the time I was here, I let logic dictate my actions. Logic is why I submitted so easily. Logic is why I permit being treated worse than dirt excrement. Logic is the cause of my first murder. You know what? I think It's time I start thinking with my gut instead, and my gut says I'm still a Human.

The white pony's hooves slammed on the table, bringing her horn toward my face. The horn glowed brightly, then set itself aflame. Her temper burned more furiously than the flame on her horn. Her mane appeared to levitate, and wave as though she herself was on fire. The enraged mare's display Reminded me of how Blackbeard the pirate would keep a lit candle under his hat, to intimidate other pirates by having smoke bellowing from his head.

"I don't think you understand, I could have you executed right here and right now. No pony would bat an eye if I did! Do you really want to die?"

I could feel my soft natured, intellectual side trying to reason it's way into control. 'We can still make this better, just apologize and pretend to be a troll!' it pleaded with hope. My glands then gave the most proper answer it could, by having me respond,"Took the words right out of my mouth, arseface." It's now time to mix lies with truth.

"Excuse me?!" She responded with utter dismay on her face.

"You heard me, I could kill you right here and right now."

"You better watch your tongue. I've already got a fire spell lined up to torch your haunch!" She threatened through her teeth.

"You don't understand, my suit is resistant to temperature up to 15,000* Fahrenheit," That was a lie, it can go to boiling before I start to pass out. "And even if you did try to hurt me with your little match stick, I'd be out of these cuffs and decapitating you before your embers even touched me!" With the thought of cuff escape in mind, I spawned a plasma knife, a knife with hollow edges filled with the intense heat and energy of plasma, in my right hand. My hand re-positioned itself to find a reachable section of the chain, and began to saw.

"Oh, you're really testing me now, bud. I'll give you to the count of three before I burn you to a crisp."

Shit, I did not expect her to call my bluff. My hand muscles flexed as I hastened my sawing. The chain was resilient, refusing to give way. My heart was racing, if I didn't get through this, I would be toast!

"One!" She proudly announced as the flames on her horn grew larger. The chain was weak enough for me to start to start pressing down on the knife. I pushed down with all of my possible strength and energy, hoping to god that it snaps.

"Two!" She proclaimed with a villainous smirk on her face. Please, God! Give me strength! The chain finally snapped, and my arm was free. I'd have to thank the big man in the sky later. My imagination turned from last will and testament to sharpened machete. I could feel the handle form in my hand as my gloves began to grip it. My arm brought itself to my fire based foe.

"Thr-..." She halted. My blade had stopped centimeters away from her throat. The smile on her face turned to a spiteful frown, her horn flame died down to an ember. The anger I saw before grew three sizes in that moment. The feeling of snatching her power away was so incredibly sweet, I could’ve drunken the moment in like booze. I have her in my control now. I could easily end her life now, this time without the tears or the regret. I felt remorse for Itchy’s death because he could’ve been the nicest guy on the planet for all I knew. I know who this mare is though. She is a bitch. A girl who never felt like she had enough power, so she had to oppress others to get any sort of satisfaction from her life. If I took her life, no one would miss her. I’m now beginning to believe that the same could be said for all of these freaks.

I firmly pressed my blade harder into her neck. Sweat streamed from her face. Any slight move on either part would result in at least five pints of blood spilling onto the floor. My bloodlust was returning from its long vacation from war. My mouth could not help itself but smile. I was ready to repaint the interior decor a healthy shade of red. After this kill, I could finish off the guards outside. If any other guards attempt to halt my progress, a quick bullet between the eyes will suffice. Once I was to the surface, I could easily kill anything or anyone who stood in my way. I’m better armed, harder to kill, and better trained on how to commit genocide than any of these weirdos.

A slight chuckle escaped my throat as I imagined the ponies bowing before my almighty presence. I was ready to send her to the Lord’s domain, when a simple thought struck my mind. ‘If the douche-holio cannon unicorn can knock the wind out of me, than an army of them can easily rip me to shreds!’ I had a valid point there. If I forced Death to reap her soul, then they’d send all they’ve got to make sure I couldn’t kill again. But I won’t get anywhere stuck in this prison. Fighting in the Arena will only get me so far.

At that moment, and idea struck my mind like a bullet train slamming into a fireworks factory. It was the most exciting idea that I’ve ever had. The sheer joy I felt negated any worry of ruining my humanity. Who cares about morality, when you can have an army! Oh God! Like a child being told he was going to Disneyland for an entire month, I began planning my conquest for the weeks to follow. The puzzle pieces of my plan began to fall together. I was to display my strength to the other inmates in the arena, showing them that I am more then capable of ending their lives before even glancing at me. Once they’re afraid of my power, I can them command them as I wish. Each passing day, I will grow stronger and stronger in support until I have amassed a small army. My ingenious plan seemed to suddenly stop from that point on, no matter. I will plan the rest later. First, I better wrap up what I’ve started here.

"Why don't you sit down and finish the interview. This time, when I say I'm a human, I mean that I'm a human." I proudly declared. A black cloud engulfed my blade, releasing her from the grips of death. My defeated interviewer sat back down in her seat, and frustratingly levitated the tape recorder back on the table. The folder with my info was also placed back to its home on the desk. She took a pen from the desk drawer, and prepared to alter my information on my document.

"So that's Anthony Micheals, Human..." She grunted angrily.

“And don't forget it. Next question.” I demanded as I placed my boots on her desk. Her response was a angered growl, voiced through clenched teeth.

“Gender?”

“Man.”

“Age?”

“Let me just check,” I responded as I opened my HUD calendar,” Approximately Thirty Three thousand six hundred and seventy. But biologically, twenty three.” She sighed with great frustration as her pen scribbled on my file.

“Birthplace?”

“Parker, Colorado.” My captive interviewer glanced up from her pen and paper.

“You mean, Coltorado.”

Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. Out of all the possible curve balls about this society, one of them happens to be horse puns for locations. This one wasn’t even that good! Coltorado?! Seriously?!

“No, I mean Colorado. I dont know when you freaks forced in a horse pun in there, but in my time, we called it Colorado.” The fiery haired mare glanced back down to her work, and continued down the list.

“Sigh. Now that the general information is out of the way, why don’t we begin the interview?” She stopped to clear her throat, before asking the next set of inquerys. "You were located in Northshire woods near a metal pod last Thursday. Along with the bodies of several dead vampires. The cause of dea-" I had to cut her off.

"Those things were vampires?"

"Can you hold your stupidity back for just this one question?"

"...continue."

"Our forensics team determines that the wounds were fired mere seconds apart. This is more rapid than the standard flintlock can fire. Do you have a gun advanced enough to fire this rapidly?"

"This is a touchy subject here. I have weapons that you ponies wouldn't be able to handle if you had them. I will tell you, yes, my gun can fire six round before reloading. That is all I can tell you." These ponies actually seemed to be capable of handling a gun with responsibility. Hell, if some of them are responsible enough to shoot fire from their skull, then they're responsible enough to handle a gun. Truth be told, I just wanted an advantage if I ever needed to use a bigger gun.

"Next question, how did you arrive here?"

"Now you're asking the right questions." I remarked. I prepared myself for the story of a lifetime."Where I came from, there was a giant war. It was a clash between democracy and monarchy. With everyone's finger on the nuke button, I abandoned my post to find a nice hole to die in. I managed to find a kind scientist who allowed me to use his stasis pod. I was launched into earths orbit and frozen in time until earth became hospitable again."

"Despite all the incorrect facts, I'll put time travel on your file."

"Fair enough, I'm not here to argue."

"Final question. Do you have any idea where we are?"

"Great Britain. Which is weird since you all have American accents."

"You are in Symphonia. I don't know when you freaks decided to force such bland names on these lands, but here, we call it Symphonia." I suppose she thought that was clever. "And to the north of us is the land of Blackhowl. The entire pony population there was once a peaceful life loving citizen of Symphonia, but was then afflicted with a severe case of vampirism. They eventually grew large enough to populate the barren lands north of here. Our jobs are to ensure that all the lands are filled with song. Their job is to ensure that the only song heard is the sounds of screaming and agony."

"Okay, you're point?"

"You and, what I assume was, your pod were incredibly close to our border. The fact that you killed multiple Vampires is a feat, but an act of war. Last we've heard from our higher ups, our diplomats are struggling to keep an invasion from happening."

"Go on."

"That's why you are here. We assumed that you were a delusional troll, so we skipped the memory spill trial and sent you straight to our labor camp. But," she paused to send a death glare straight through my soul," since you insist that you are not a troll, we are at charge of discrimination. As compensation, you have the right to request certain living conditions. We'll give you five special requests. Keep in mind that they have to be reasonable."

"Oh really now?" I asked with much intrigue," By compensation, do you mean freedom? Because I don't know about you, but i believe that that will compensate for all the negligence of my people."

"Oh please, you won't be getting parole anytime soon."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Why? You almost started a war! A war we would've lost by the way. We do not have enough troops nor resources to even defend our borders. Equestria refuses to send troops, seeing how their conflict with Saddle Arabia has become their top concern."

"Well, you have over a thousand guards here, plus prisoners who can obviously fight, why don't you use them as soldiers?"

"You can't be serious right now."

"I'm dead serious. In my time, The French Legion was one of Frances most powerful armies, and it was composed primarily of prisoners!"

"Completely out of the question. Scumbags like you could never pull something like that off." I have a feeling that her statement might come back and bite her on the ass.

"Alright then, let's move onto my second question. Why do the trolls get such poor treatment? They're sentient, so don't they deserve rights as well?"

"Goblins, Trolls, and Giants are all notoriously stupid and are used as cheap labor in Blackhowl. They barely register as sentient. It's much more efficient if we just place the trolls in a shaft and have them mine then let them think that they have any sort of chance of freedom. Which is another reason why we believed you were a troll. Why did you mine for eight hours straight when no pony told you to in the first place?"

"Well, I thought that if I played nice and did what was expected of me, you guys would let me go on good behavior. Turns out, being nice doesn't get you to far here." My feet dropped from the desk and planted firm into the ground, my body shifted forward and leaned closer to my new friend.

"Now tell me, what is this memory spill you speak of?"

"A memory spill is a spell that is placed on two separate ponies, the target and the caster themselves. They then go into a deep sleep and begin dreaming. The one who casted the spell can then select a random day in the targets life and view select segments of their life. The dream then turns into a movie like projection of that specific day through the target ponies eyes. the caster can then see any bad deeds that the target had committed in their past. All senses and emotions are felt by the caster and the target to create a better understanding of any horrible actions on the target ponies side of the argument."

"What if the target had a bad day on that specific day? Or if they spent the whole day doing nothing?"

"The caster can change fast forward through the event to find any notable actions. And if that specific day was uneventful, then the caster will select another day. After the memory was fully viewed by the castor, the dream is over and both will awaken. The spell would then be casted four more times over the next four days until five days filled with eventful memories are viewed by a Royal judge. The judge then decides if the target is redeemable or doomed to forever cause mischief and hate. We don't give them to trolls because all we'd find is memories of eating half dead birds and copulating."

"Interesting. I'd like to have one someday."

"You'd be using one of your requests if you did."

That was a tough call to make. If I did have a memory spill, then I'd run the risk of them finding out all the horrible deeds I committed for the ACA, or perhaps find a day in my youth where I did nothing but masturbate for hours on end. There was no other fair trial though. And if these ponies were stubborn enough to believe that I was nothing more than a witless troll, than I doubt any of them would believe I was peaceful.

Nah. A memory spill would be nice in the future, but I'd be much safer with an army behind my back than a horse digging through my mind.

"I'm going to have to pass on that. How many requests do I get?"

"In your case of discrimination, five."

"Alright, my first request is information. How many prisoners are in this camp?

Her horn glowed a fiery orange, which then manipulated the top drawer of her filing cabinet to open. A sheet of paper was pulled from the cabinet and fell to the desk in front of her. She began reading the information listed. "Five thousand ponies, two hundred trolls/giants/goblins, three hundred zebras, two hundred and seventy four nymph dragons, four adult dragons, and one Minotaur."

"One Minotaur? What's he in for?"

"Assaulting a minor. A young colt cut him in line at the candy store, which infuriated him. He proceeded to shout, 'If some pony tries to block, show them that you rock!' Then continued to beat the child with another nearby child.

Another idea began to weave it's gnarly web in my head. "Is there a regular jail style cell block in this mine?"

"Yes, the largest is G-block or Gladiator block. A cell block with a fighting pit covering the base level of the block. The pit itself is twice as long as a standard football field and just as wide. It holds over five hundred different cells and over one thousand prisoners. Every night, the Gladiator pit is open to all sorts of brawls, both ranging from simple sparring to deathmatch. Its a good way to keep the prisoners happy, plus, we dont have to preform the executions!"

"Wait, I thought the arena I fought in was the official fighting place of this hell hole."

"Well, the mine shafts you were located in were smaller and on the other side of the underground camp. Plus, you were just fighting for the entertainment of the guards. The Gladiator pit is mainly so the prisoners don't riot out of boredom."

"Before I start using my other requests, I want to know how a large camp like this can go unnoticed to the ponies above."

"I never said that it was unnoticed. Ponies from all over Symponia know that if you are bad, you go to the camps. However, the entrance to the facility is cleverly disguised, making it feel like the camps are invisible, or just a fairy tale to begin with."

"You mean that this entire facility is just an underground city."

"Not exactly a city. One side is a prison, the other a labor camp. But it is the size of a fairly large city, I'll give you that."

"Good to know. My next request is too be moved into a cell in G-block with the Minotuar. I don't care who you have to evict in order to make this happen, just do it. And my third request is to fight in the Arena at least once a night if not more."

"Done, if it'll keep you out of my sight, I'll allow it."

"My fourth request is for us to be done with this stupid survey."

"Sigh, if it shortens my time with you. Your final request?"

"I'll save the final one for a rainy day." I said as I stood from my seat. I stretched my arms towards the ceiline and demanded,"Take me to my new home."

She sighed again and forced her horn to glow orange. The door behind me was unlocked, allowing it to swing open. The guards entered the room, awaiting further instructions. The orange maned guard ordered,"Take him to cell 352 in G-block. Transfer the Minotaur to his cell too. And leave the bag off, he's not a troll."

The guards responded in unison," YES MA'AM!" then retied the damaged chain around my hands. I put less of a fight up, knowing that my little encounter will grant me much better freedoms than they will ever know. Oh this place will burn like Gomorrah when I'm finished.

"Move it, freak!" The guard demanded as he yanked me towards the door. I obeyed and began moving through the frame and into the stone shaft around me. I almost wish I still had the bag on. The sight of the shaft was almost troubling, it poorly carved out, and poorly lit. The floor consisted of gravel and wooden boards which created a walk way for the guards. I began walking along the wooden planks towards my new home.

****
After touring the camp with the bag off my cranium, I really couldn't understand why they placed it on me in the first place. They weren't hiding much from me. I was primarily walking down a large and straight mine shaft. There was much activity in the main mine artery, such as several troops moving from location to location, equipment being moved to help the production of whatever we were mining in the first place, and a couple other prisoners being moved from their old homes to their new fates.

At least fifteen minutes of walking before we turned off into a smaller sub shaft to my new home. It was much of the same, grey Stoney hallways with occasional other hallways leading of from them. Some of the other paths had wooden signs nailed to the rock walls. They looked like warning signs, but the language it was written in was still confusing and impossible to read. Strange, when referring to my new cell block, they said cell block G. Meaning that they understand the western Alphabet. I can probably ask my new roommate on how the writing works here.

The hallway finally came to an end with a freight elevator, which would lead me to a future drastically different than if I had just stayed and mined. Déjà vu. The elevator that lead to the Dr. Rodriguez' facility was reminiscent here. I guess it's a good sign that I would've been incinerated if I hadn't found his office. A good omen to my decision of dominance.

The two guards and myself piled into the freight elevator, first guard using his magic to press activate the elevator. The elevating platform shook and shuddered before descending downwards. I could tell this elevator was going to be long and awkward, but it gave me time to think. Not of anything important, but just allowing my mind to wander. I can pause and let my imagination soar, and that was one of the things keeping me from being savage. You know what they say,"Simple minds discuss of people, great minds discuss events, and intelligent minds discuss ideas." I kept this quote close to heart, for it gave me a heads up of I were to lose my wits. The day I stopped imagining 'What if?' is the day I throw myself off a cliff.

My imagination when directly to the unicorn guards magic. He wasn't much different from the cannon pony, minus the cutie mark and the eye color. I assume that 50% of the guards here were magic wielding unicorns while the other guards were normal. I guess that could be said for the entire population. I wonder what it would be like if humanity had such magic in their possession. While it can be used for cool things like spells and and cool magic tricks, it would only exploit mankind's laziness. I could just imagine a fat man, polishing off his beer while watching the game, only to use his incredible gift of magic to grab another beer from the kitchen without even getting up. Or, it could bring unfairness to a new level. The Denver Broncos wouldn't have lost their seventeenth Super Bowl if rookie quarterback Craig Buxley used his levitation to make an actual successful pass for the entire game.

No, humanity had its own advantages over the rest of the animal kingdom, we didn't need magic. Some creatures had wings, some could inject venom into its prey, and some could run at eighty miles per hour. Humans, had persistence, ingenuity, and adaptability. If you place a human in any climate with the right tools, they will survive for the next thirty years. Place a human in the tundra with only a gun, six rounds, and a sewing kit, and he will kill a polar bear and turn his hide into warm clothing. Place a man in the desert with a tent, a compass, and a bottle of water, and he will find his way out within a week.

As for ingenuity, it speaks for itself. The chimpanzee may be able to make a makeshift spear to hunt and fend for itself, but it's no where near as efficient as the M60 light machine gun which can defend your family at five hundred dead suspicious characters per minute. But our persistence is what truly makes us special. The cheetah may be able to run at eighty miles per hour, but he gets tired after a while. For long distance runners, humans are the fastest. We used that skill during our tribal phase to hunt. If we didn't have that persistent running skill, our dinner would escape. Humans wouldn't be able to live off of berries forever, we arent all hippies! It could've ended humanity if we did not have that persistent instinct driving us to our goals.

I suppose this was just me trying to give reasons on why I can't die here. I may have better weapons, but they have their own advantages. I was still stabbed in the gut in my first fight, and if it weren't for the over abundance of ESC gel, I would've died. If my next opponent hits my neck or if they continuously beat me without giving me a chance to recover, I will wake up next morning six feet underground. I suppose if things get real hairy, I can just whip out my six shooter and end the battle, but where's the fear in that. The other prisoners won't respect me if I shortcut it. I need to behead someone and stick it on a pike to gain the kind of respect I need.

The elevator came to a jerky halt and the doors pulled themselves open. I was actually amazed on how my train of thought went from magic humans to prison respect. My ADD has outdone itself, and I couldn't be prouder. The guards yanked at my bracelets, signaling me to proceed forward. The hallway I was progressing down reminded me of the hallway that football players traverse down before entering the stadium. Brick wall, narrow hallway, and a cheering crowd on the end of the hall. The light leading into the cell block was blinding, but I knew beyond it was my destiny. With my head held high, I traversed through the light and began the next chapter of my life.

Finding Iron's Will

The light was blinding at first, but the sight afterwards was so much more beautiful. Maybe it was my new demeanor on life, or maybe it was how darker and grittier things were starting to seem more appealing, but this was definitely a sight. I was standing on the top level of G block, hands griping the railings in front of me, viewing the large Colosseum before me. The cave itself was quite expansive, the walls spanning several hundred feet in the air. There were several spotlights located on the out rim of the ceiling, all pointed towards the center of the ring below. I was standing atop the highest level of the block, several more stood below me. I couldn't count how many levels there were, the lights were not giving attention to that part of the prison, leaving it in darkness. I could tell that the top level had the widest platform that surrounded top of the block. It's hard to describe, but I guess it gave off the appearance of a toilet seat. I leaned over the railings to view what was below. The ground level had an arena, which was occupied by two fighters. A crowd of prisoners filled each platform with not only their presence, but with their cheers.
The guard behind me levitated my chain to attach to the railing. He informed,"Hey, final match of the night. Prisoner, you get to watch from the guard seats. If you so much as move, then over two hundred guards will be on your ass, so be good."

The view was not exactly fantastic from my position, but thankfully my HUD had zoom enabled. Closer inspection of the battlefield revealed blood stained dirt and chalk outlines of the arena itself. I suppose theirs some rules about fighting, I doubt they're actually enforced here. There were two fighters engaged at the moment: a zebra, clothed in dirty cloths and a rusty iron shoulder pad. He carried a wooden club, more or less just a plank of wood with several nails driven into it. The other, was Lime green mare, sporting a long, greasy dark green mane and equipped with sword in...mouth? Most of the guards I've seen here either have had spears hooked onto their armor, or it was just held in hand. I never knew that oral combat was also an option. She had no armor equipped, the cuts and bruises on her were the result of such carelessness.

It was odd watching the two duke it out. The zebra had a small buckler shield, but he kept it on his shoulder, meaning every block was dangerously close to his head. And the green mare had an odd way of swinging her blade. She would still move her entire head like an arm to swing the weapon, but would also use her front teeth as a pivot point and spin the blade to the other side of her face. I'd have to get a closer look to fully understand this fighting style.

It wasn't long before the fight was over. The lime pony ended with a spectacular finish. Throwing her blade into the air as a distraction, followed by a quick kick to the face, knocked her opponent onto the floor. The blade followed in suit and landed directly into the zebras chest. The crowd went wild as she nodded to her fans, and walked out of the arena. I hadn't noticed the guards unhook my chains from the railing, they were now yanking at them with frustration.

"Get moving, prisoner!" They shouted. I followed their orders and defended down into the depths below. The spotlights began to shut off, only to be replaced by floodlights on the walls. I could now get a better idea of my location as I descended further and further. The cell block was shaped like an upside down funnel. The top cells were the smallest circle of cells, with only fifty or so cells circling around to top, while the bottom level had a large circumference of two hundred cells. I suppose this was to make it easier to see the fight below for the prisoners.

The final spotlight was shut off, and all lighting was returned. The entire block was dimmed to a mood light, the floodlights on the wall covered in orange paint to represent fire. The center of the arena had disappeared into the abyss of the darkness, along with the other side of the cell. One would think that that would be dangerous to allow criminals to conspire in the dark. I guess there's some sort of metaphor by keeping the block to a dim torch light. Maybe it was to make the prisoners miss sunlight, or maybe it was a metaphor for how there was no good or 'light' in this hellhole. Whatever poetic illusion they think they're trying to pull off won't benefit them, there's too many problems with keeping their prisoners in darkness. What happens if a guard is murdered on one side of the block and the guards on the other side can't see what happened?

My question was answered when the sound of a fight broke out in a cell close to myself. Three cells away, two ponies began trading blows over a statement about one of their sisters. Not exactly exciting events, but what halted the fight was more shocking than the fight itself. From the darkness in the center of the prison came several Pegasus guards, dashing straight to the prison cell, swinging open the cell door, and subduing the brawlers from continued fighting. I could hear the guards shouting, "If you want to fight, you're gonna have to wait until tomorrow in the ring! Next offense will be punished with solitary confinement!"

I was yanked away from the cell before I could hear anymore of that situation. Further I traveled down the stairs to my happy home away from home. I guess that explains the darkness. With the prisoners unable to tell if they're being watched or not, they have to be on their best behavior. Clever, but they didn't expect me to have thermal vision on my HUD. I silently activated the thermal vision to examine the darkness a little bit easier. My sight went from normal to thermal, the blackness turning to dark blue with several orange outlines of winged guards, surveying the prison. There was, at least, two pegasi per level. If I wanted to converse with my new roomie, I'd have to watch out for pegasi eyes observing our conversation.

"Prisoner, halt!" The guard leading me announced. The guard behind levitated a key into the lock of a nearby cell. The door of said cell swung open and invited me in to stay for a while. "Welcome home newbie! Now get your ass in their." I obeyed the guards orders and enter the cell. The room was slightly larger than the cells I passed. Perhaps this was due to the fact that a six foot tall human requires more living space than a four foot tall pony. The ceiling proudly existed ten feet above the ground below. The room must've been ten by eight in width and length. There was an iron frame bunk bed located to my left, and a bucket to my right. Thankfully for me, I would not need the bucket. Any sort of waste my body produces is immediately wormholes to the Armory, which then fires it off into space.

I assumed that I was heavier than my roommate, so I selected the bottom bunk for myself. I ventured myself over to the bed, placed myself in the middle, swung my legs on, and lied my head against the pillow. One of the many problems of my suit was how I couldn't properly rest my head against something soft. It was all the same feeling, my head against the padding in my suit. And as much burden this suit was, I still need this suit to survive. Without it, I'd have no way of defending myself. I haven't even shown them the full potential of my suits capabilities and I still can handle myself with just the essentials. They only know about my six shooter, I'm going to guess that they think that's my best weapon. In which case, they are horribly mistaken. My most effective weapon was the System Purge. I promised never to use it unless worse came to absolute worse. The close contenders were the several LMG's, high powered rifles, grenade launchers, flame throwers, and machine guns. I'm not exactly an expert on these weapons, but I still know how to use them, and they don't know how to counter them, so I think it's safe to say that I'll be around for a while.

A yawn escaped my esophagus. I could feel the grips of Mr Sandman firmly compelling me to join him in slumber. Tomorrow was to be a huge day, for it was the day that I make a name for myself. But for now, I will rest my tired eyes.

*******

I was awoken sometime early morning to the sound of an incredibly butch voice, complaining to a guard. I tied to ignore it at first, but my curiosity won the battle with my exhaustion, and my eyes opened to view the situation. My body rolled onto my side, and my head peaked over the side of the bed to find the source of the complaints. Outside of my iron bar cell door, three guards were using all of their might to pull on a prisoner and a fourth was barking orders at him.

"Prisoner! You are assigned to this cell! If you resist further, we will have no choice but to employ brute force!"

"Iron Will refuses! What if it's some pony who murders?! Or somepony who beats other ponies up?! I cannot risk it!" He shouted in retaliation. Oh god, did I accidentally request to room with a pansy? The cell door swung open and the Minotaur came flying into the room.

"Too bad!" The guard replied as he slammed the door shut. The Minotaur was lying face down, but I could still get a good look at him. He was a muscular, blue skin and fur, and had fists the size of my head. He was at least seven feet in height and had a standard bull cranium. Not what I had in mind when I thought when it came to minotaurs, but what do I know. I swung my legs over the bed and sat up. If he was gonna be a wimp, I might as well make our first interaction easy on him. "Hey, pal. I'm Anthony, I assume you're Iron Will."

His head poked up from the ground he was thrown on, he was still a little shaken. "Ugh, I want you to know that I do not want any troub-WOAH!" He shouted as he glanced over his shoulder to view me. He promptly flopped over onto his back aapnd backed into the wall behind him. "You!.. You're no pony! What are you?!"

"Would you believe me if I said human?"

"I will believe anything at this point. Are you going to hurt me?"

"No. I actually need your help. But first, I have a few questions."

"Wait, if you're not here to hurt me, then why are you here?"

"What kind of question is that?

"Every cell mate I was with would normally beat the snot out of me at this point!" It's at this point that Iron Will burst into tears. Someone made him his bitch and he wasn't forgetting it anytime soon. Tears were falling from his face. This giant monster obviously had a troubled past, but I didn't expect it to turn him into mush!

My god, I've made a huge mistake. I expected a hulking giant to be my muscle, not some big softy. I might need to give some counseling before I can put those muscles to work. He seems like the kind of guy who would rather have a friend than a boss, maybe I could work with that. Hell, it'd be nice to have a friend in this world instead of another talking technicolor horse shouting orders at me. And I was a big loveable oaf like him before the war broke me, so it'd be nice to gain some of my souls back.

"I promise I won't hurt you, not intentionally at least. I want to help you Iron Will."

"You-(sniff) you do?" Iron Will asked, wiping the tears from his eyes. Oh god, this is gonna take some work. It will be a challenge, but not entirely impossible. I'm gonna need to dig deep inside to find that kind hearted man again. Now that I think of it, they broke me remarkably fast. Only one day and one death and I'm already in Alpha mode. Only god knows what happened to him to turn him into such a wimp.

"Yeah. Look, this prison is full of the scum of the earth. There are dangerous peop-...sigh, ponies out there that would not hesitate to drive a shiv through the back of our spinal disks. And even though my spine is impossible to break or penetrate, I need someone to watch my back. And I know you need a friend more than anything right now, so whaddya say?" I asked in a friendly manner, extending my arm out to help him up.

"...(sniff), I guess it wouldn't hurt." He decided as he extended his hand out to grab mine. I promptly hoisted him up onto his hooves, as he took his place in the bunk above me. I could hear him get adjusted into a comfortable position before I asked,"So, what's your story? What landed you in here?"

"Oh, it's kind of a long one. I might bore you with it."

"We don't exactly have anywhere to go, Iron. Tell me from the start."

My blue ox compadrè leaned back and heaved out a heavy sigh. I could tell this was going to be a doozy, but I needed to know what happened to this monster. I need muscle, and I need my last request to not be a new roommate. Bringing his body back to the edge of the bed, he sighed,"Okay." And begun his tale.

"I can tell you're not from here, so I will tell you the whole story. I came from the land under Equestria. My home has no name, because we really don't have any rulers. It's just unclaimed territory that every pony is too scared to claim. The only rulers of the land are specific clans who gain control of the most territory. I was born into one of the strongest clans in all of that territory, the Iron family. Unfortunately, this poor mamas bull was born a midget! My older brothers, Iron Fist, Iron Brute, and Iron Warrior, were the largest minotaurs alive. But they would pick on me for being the smallest alive. They all grew up to be mighty soldiers, fighting proudly to claim a good chunk of the territory. Iron Will was outcasted for not being large enough to join my brothers in combat!" He exclaimed with shame.

That was slightly hard for me to believe. He was already huge, standing at ten feet tall and with more muscle than Andrè the giant. He could easily grab me with his freakishly large grippers and fling me farther than an Olympic javelin tosser. If he was too tiny for war, than I'd hate to see what his brothers look like.

"What are the size requirements then?"

"A Minotaur must be twenty feet tall with a bicep diameter of forty inches! Iron Will was born a dwarf, and was considered a runt to Minotaur standards! Have you ever seen a dwarf fighter?" I understood his point. Little people weren't exactly considered for combat in my time, but they weren't considered freaks! But a Tolkien style Dwarfs, that's another story. Perhaps it's a story that he needs to hear about.

"Iron Will, the Dwarfs of my time were brave warriors! There weren't as many in my time, most of them died in the Great War of...err...Grundleguard mine." Ever since Tolkien had revolutionized our views on Elfs and Dwarfs, they became a generic icon of almost every single fantasy game, book, and movie. It was pretty easy to bullshit a mythical races lore with so many different stories of how they came to origin. "Dwarfs first appeared in the age of kings, they worked in mines and forged mighty axes and heavy armor to compensate for their height. If you thought Dwarfs were useless, think about this. Dwarfs kept humanity safe from Dragons for thousands of years. And humans are bred to fight, so you know they're the real deal." I'm really hoping that no one asks me about the actual history of humanity. It's not like I don't know it, it's just that I may alter it beyond the point of no return.

My oxen friend wiped another tear from his eye. "Really? Dwarfs are proud warriors in your time?"

"Yep!" Nope. But if this gets him going, than what the hell, I'll try anything. A smirk appeared out the corner of his mouth. He's not at his full potential yet, but it's a start. Maybe if I continue the lore on these "dwarfs", he'll man up and try fighting for once.

"(Sniff) I am glad to here that dwarfs are a strong race, but it will be a while before I can be as strong as his brothers. Anyway, I got sidetracked. Where was I? Oh yeah, I had to move north to Equestria, and find work. I decided to be a life coach, and give weak ponies the backbone they needed! From Manehatten to Las Pegasus, I changed the lives of every pony I met. I was on my way to Canterlot, to make it big. I just had to finish one venue in Ponyville..."

"What happened in Ponyville?"

"One pony..." Iron Will leaned back and grunting angrily,"Oh boy! That one pony! She was the softest, mushiest, most whimpy pony I had ever had that misfortune of meeting! I taught her everything I knew, I made her strong!" Iron Will pushed himself up from the bed and began pacing. I think this might be my key to unlocking his potential.

"I heard wonderful stories of how my training turned that pipsqueak into who didn't take any shenanigans from no pony. But when I went to collect payment, she refused!" Iron Will began to breathe heavily. His face was turning red, and his muscles began to throb with anger.

"Why did she refuse?"

"She wasn't satisfied with my services! According to my slogan, if you aren't satisfied with my services, than you don't pay! I was so stupid! Soon, after I was bested by the spineless pony, other ponies began to talk. Rumors of my defeat reached Canterlot, and soon, all of Equestria knew Iron Will was a fraud!"

Iron Will clenched his fist, and flexed his burly muscles. With a gigantic growl, Iron punched the stone wall with all of his might. Color me impressed, he left a decent sized crater on the wall. Now I know that he can do some damage. All I need to do is make sure that he continues to do so. My oxen ally turned around only to vent the rest of his story to me.

"I tried to escape his fate, so I moved across the Sea of Songs to Symphonia, to the capital of Harmonia! But it was too late, the story of Iron Will's missing backbone had reached these ponies. I tried to have a seminar, but only children showed up, mainly to throw stones and rotten vegetables at myself. I was running out of money, and decided to get some sweets to cheer me up. By the time I got to the bakery, the same colts from the seminar cut me in line! I couldn't take it! I showed them the I rocked! I grabbed the first little colt by the back hooves and used him to beat the snot out of the other colt!" Iron Will continued to bash his hand into the wall. The crater was close to becoming a nice viewing area of the other cell.

"There it is Iron Will!" The ox like human stopped his rampant strikes against the wall. He turned to view me.

"There's what?! What are you talking about?!" I stood from the bed to meet Irons gaze.

"Your spine! There's the strength and anger that makes a Minotaur truly a warrior! There's the fight and the power that makes our dwarfs so strong!" The anger on his face washed away to a dumbfounded look. He truly didn't realize he had that strength in him. This was easier than I thought it would be!

"R-really? You think that I have a spine?"

"Iron, look what you did to the wall. If stone can crumble like that under your strength, imagine what that can do to a pony!"

"But I don't want to fight anymore!"

"Iron, nobody is going to buy that whole I've changed act; believe me, I've tried. And nobody here besides me deserves any less than your fist in their face!" Iron Will brought his hand to his chin and began to ponder the possibilities. After mulling it over for about ten seconds, brought his hand to my shoulder and told me,"You've got a point, Human. I am in your debt for making me into a new Minotaur!"

"There is one thing you can do."

"Anything, friend! I've been in here long enough to where saying anything means aaaanything!" It's at times like this that I'm glad that I can't eat food. It makes it easier for when I want to vomit.

"Not that! Look, I want you to be my right hand man. I can't survive in here without a partner in crime, or a friend. You fit the bill quite nicely. But you need to be this butch every time we leave the cell. We need to give off the same emotions that a mobster gives off. When we exit this cell, we need to look angry. When you fight, you need to look happy. When you kill, give your poker face because its just business as usual. And absolutely, NO EMOTIONS INVOLVED WITH KILLING! Do you think you can handle it?"

"Iron Will will pummel any pony into the ground if they so much as glance at us. I will follow you to the grave!" It might be because he had no other options, or the sudden boost in confidence, but that was way less difficult than I expected it to be. With Iron Will under my command, it should be easier to intimidate everyone else. But first up on the list is to end anyone who formally roomed with Iron Will. Any bad press about my new partner that gets out might crumble this whole operation. A bell began to ring loudly. A guard can be heard shouting,"Everypony out!" Iron Will moved towards the cell door as it swung upon on its own.

"Where's everyone going?"

"Breakfast time, human."

Show them that you rock!

A large line of prisoners were wrangled through a series of tunnels, with several guards leading us to our destination. The ponies in front paid no attention to my new partner and myself, but the ponies behind definitely took notice to the new residents. I could here several whispers behind Iron Will and myself. They had their sights on me, and I was ever so willing to show them what I've got. The whispers were silenced by a guard, informing them of the beat down they would recieve if they continued. I wonder how many guards will be stationed in the cafeteria, and how many would get mad if I made any threats.

We finally came to a doorway that lead to a balcony that over saw the cafeteria. The balcony was lined with a chain link fence which led to a humongous set of stairs. The cafeteria was quite large, the layout was remeniscient of an aircraft hanger. The room was unnaturally high, I imagine the height of this room is due to pegasi guards needing an advantage over the prisoners. The far end of the room was a cafeteria style food serving area. Metal bars for trays to slide along with lunch ladies scooping goop onto the trays. Reminded me of Casa Bonita back home, probably tasted the same too. After the food was recieved, the prisoners were to pick from from several hundred tables to dine on. I imagine I will be sitting alone with my friend.

I made my way down the stairs to the bottom level, where I was offered a tray from a guard handing them out. I refused, the guard responded with,"What, to good for pony food?" Lowering my voice into the brassiest noise I could possibly emit, I responded with,"I do not eat."

The guard rolled his eyes at me and gave my tray to Iron Will behind me. I followed the line as they continued onto the food portion of this adventure. Several inmates recieved green glop, others recieved brown gloop. Iron special requested green glop with a side of brown glop, didn't realize he was such a gourmet. The kitchen behind the metal bars and sneeze guards was brightly lit, and filled with different pots and pans. The people working them were, what I was to assume, trolls. Oh god, they were indeed as ugly as I thought they would be. Large noses, huge fang like canine teeth, gigantic chins, skinny skulls, lanky bodies, buggy eyes, and greyish brown skin. Their hands resembled my own, only a foot or so longer. Their hair was white, and especially greasy. Just when they could not get anymore repulsive, I found one of them standing over the green glop, drooling into it. It physically disgusted me to gaze upon these creatures for much longer. I brought my eyesight back towards the ground, and tried to get their awful creatures image out of my mind.

I finally came to the end of the line, and was allowed to pick my seat. I chose an empty table in the direct center of the room. Taking my seat, I found that the tables were still perfectly accustomed for humans. Perfect height for my forelegs, perfect position for me to rest on, and perfect position for ass to rest on. I wondered how many objects in this time period are also accustomed for humans. Now that I think of it, the beds were just perfect for my size as well. I looked around to see if the seats were comfortable for ponies. Staring at each colorful ponies ass, I noticed that each one was sitting like a dog, two front legs propping them up, and two hind legs dangeling off the seat. They weren't even touching the ground! I'm beginning to wonder if this world was annitially designed by humans, or at least human influence.

Glancing up from their hind quarters, I noticed that most of them were staring back at me. I met one of their gazes, and turned on thermal vision, mainly because thermal vision made my eyes glow red. They quickly brought their attention back to their tables and began whispering. They were planning something, I just couldn't tell what. My oxen friend sat himself across from me, grabbed a handful of glop, and forced it into his mouth. He then took his other hand and pointed at me.

"Mmph..You know... Mmnph.. You should watch out for them."

"Why? Are they dangerous?"

Iron Will choked down his glop and continued,"Kind of, everyone here is dangerous. That's the point of this cell block."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you see any guards?"

I did a quick survey of the room, and noticed that my blue friend was making a valid point. All of the guards had stepped behind the chain link fence, and locked it from the inside. Each regular pony had a spear equipped, ready to stab at the slightest aggression. The unicorns were charging their largest spells. From what I've seen so far, this amount of charging would only mean the spell would be meant for utter annihilation. And with the ratio of prisoners to guards, they'd need something to kill large groups if all the inmates revolted. But the guards weren't here for crowd control. They were merely observing, preparing themselves for something. I brought myself back to Iron, shoving his face into his meal, then swallowing most of it without chewing.

"Why are they on the staircase? Shouldn't they be out here?"

"No, they're here to clean up."

"Clean up what?"

"Any pony who dies."

"What!?"

"You see," Iron Will started as he grabbed and consumed the last glob of glop."Ahmmmnpff, the point of this block, mnff mmphfff, is to kill off as many dangerous prisoners as possible. They do it in the least dangerous way for them possible, they let us do the work!"

"So ponies have died here before?"

"Several. The ones behind you don't like the look of you, they might try something by the end of lunch."

Alright, critical thinking time. I have the opportunity to show dominance here. I could end them quickly with a couple of rounds to the head. Or I could show off the true brutality that humans are capable of, and carve him like a Christmas goose. However, I don't need to kill them. If anyone tries anything, I could pin them down, or beat them into submission. My conscious was doing its best to get me to spare these ponies. After the whole friend scenario with Iron, I finally allowed my good natured side to come out of the cage I locked in. For it was right at least every so often.

However, my conscious would be wrong in this scenario, so I'll ignore him for now. The thought of fear ran through my mind. Fear is how North Korea kept its people from revolting, fear is how Blackbeard kept his crew in line. Fear is how the Great Monarchy conquered the entire eastern hemisphere. If I make them afraid of me, then maybe they'd be easier to manipulate in the long run. But if they're in a place like this, then I assume they don't fear death the same way as others would.

I'd have to carve him, a silent death would be merciful. They show no mercy in prison. But I don't want to reveal all of my cards before I fight in the arena. Hmm. If I were to use a flashbang, and a smoke grenade, I can make sure that they don't see what's going on, keeping a sense of mystery about what's going on. Then, I could use my suits QuickDraw time perception modifier to slow everything down and make sure that I get in and out effectively.

"Good to know. Excuse me for one second." I moved myself from my seat and began moving towards the ponies behind me. I spawned a flash bang in my left hand, and a machete in the right. The three of the ponies turned around to greet me. I stopped and stared at them while switching to thermal vision.

"What the hell do you want?!" The middle inmate asked. They couldn't see, but I had a smug smirk resting on my ugly mug. I replied by releasing the pin from my flash bang and rolling it towards their table. My suits HUD dimmed to welding goggles level, and my audio enhancers muffled any noise. A smoke grenade spawned in hand to replace its previous blinding brethren. The flash bang exploded. The ponies around me had their eyes forced shut and had their hoofs covering their ears, however, it only created only a slight flash of light on my end. My index finger wrapped around the pin on the smoke grenade, which my left hand threw next to the husk of the flashbang. A slight bang was audible, shortly after, a cloud of smoke covered the three ponies. It wasn't likely that they would need to be blinded from what was happening, I just needed to make sure that the ponies on the other side of the room weren't aware of what was happening.

My HUD returned to thermal, allowing me to view my prey throw the smoke. The QuickDraw system had slowed time to .5 speed, giving me time to properly create my art. I brought my machete straight through the side of the middle ponies chest, with a rush of excitement pumping through my veins. I brought my boot to his body, and pulled my weapon free. Pick continued to slash through his neck, spraying blood over his still blinded comrades. Pivoting my blade to face the bottom of my hand, I plunged my weapon directly into his heart. My weapon wormholes back into the armory, allowing more blood to fall from his body. He was dead, but not dead enough to be truly frightening. With the ponies still distracted from the flash bang, I summoned a hatchet to my hand. My hatchet rose proudly into the air, and jammed itself into his skull.

My hand released the handle, and I made my way back to my table. The ponies in the area were just regaining their eyesight and hearing. My hind quarters plopped onto the bench below me, followed by a wave of gasps. I didn't get to view my work properly, but I was guessing that it was a masterpiece. The ponies that were previously staring at me had moved on to the corpse that I had carved up. The inmates next to him began to cry. One of the shouted," You bastard! That was my brother!" Both of them rose from their seats and began to charge towards me.

I could feel my revolvers handle form around my grip, as I turned my body to aim it properly. The last cloud of blackness had disappeared from my weapon, and I aimed it towards the first inmate. *Bang! Straight through the cranium. I moved the revolver left, and fired again. *Bang! Through the neck this time. He fell to the ground and began to make gargling noises. I wanted to put him out of his misery, but it would look more intimidating if I let him choke on his own blood. All thoughts of keeping my humanity had not only been removed, but buried several meters underground. It appeared that they still weren't getting the message. I climbed on top of my tabled, carefully avoiding Iron Wills trembling hands, and shouted," If any one of you fucks would like to meet the same fate as these three, then keep staring!"

Immediately, most of the inmates turned back to their meals. A good chunk of them continued gazing at myself, but I would allow them. It showed that their was still some that needed to be taken out before I built my army. Now was a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. While I'm at it, I might as well take out Irons old cell mates. I bent over and whispered to Iron Will,"Who are the ponies who beat you? Let's end 'em here."

"Silver Hammer, Crimson Rage, and Dark Moon." He whispered back. I straightened back up, and called out,"Will the following scumbags please come over here! Silver Hammer, Crimson Rage, and Dark Moon! If you don't my friend will point you out and I'll come to you."

Just like calling a dog after he had gotten into the trash, the three inmates had risen and began walking over to me. Steel walked stubbornly, with a challenging grimace struck on his face. Crimson Rage didn't appear to care that much to begin with. And Dark Moon walked with his tail between his legs, regretting everything that he did to whined up here. They all approached that far end of our table, and waited for further instruction. Oh this was perfect. I never knew how powerful I truly was! I'm not invincible, but I'm one scary motherfucker. My HUD gave me the option for QuickDraw perception, which I accepted gratefully. Time began to slow around me, my revolver came back to my hand, and fired rounds of into each individual ponies kneecap. The delayed reaction of QuickDraw allowed me to savor the moment better. The pain on their faces appeared slowly, but then quickly turned into faces of anguish and pain. QuickDraw deactivated itself, and I returned to normal time.

I opened up the chambers of my revolver, and pushed out the empty casings. A black cloud formed in hand, and left behind six magnum slugs. I pushed each individual slug into its respective chamber, then pushed the chamber back into place. Each one of my victims were grabbing their legs, trying to sloth the pain. Dark Moon began to beg,"Please! Whatever I did, I'm sorry! Take them! Not me!"

"Shut up!" I replied. It's at times like this that I'm glad they crammed badass weapons into the armory. I had a perfectly good battle ax, ready for slaughter. I felt its weight form in my right hand as two black clouds made their way up the soon to be shaft of the ax, leaving behind wood and grips, until making its way to the ax itself. The blades of the axe soon formed to a sharpened, double sided, chunk of iron. I couldn't hog all the fear to myself though. Iron Will needs his street cred too. I really hope that he's truly over his emotions. I looked over to my compadre, who had eyes widened and jaw dropped, and asked,"Iron, you want the honors?"
His head shook from side to side and glanced up to me. "No!...no you have this one."

"Iron, a proud dwarf must have his first kill sometime in his life. You might as well make it someone who has wronged you." Iron looked over at the other ponies, who now had horrified expressions on their faces, and back at me, who could only give the blank expression formed on his mask. Iron brought a hand to his chin, and began to ponder. I know that it isn't easy to take a life for most. There's only a small minority of people that don't feel anything after ending a life. Those people are known as seriel killers. It may appear that I killed those ponies without a care in the world, but I'd being lying if I say that I didn't feel remorse for my fallen foes. But, unfortunately, not everything is rainbows and butterflies, even though the world of magical cartoon ponies seems like it'd be the perfect place for rainbows and butterflies. I guess harsh reality will be present in the presence of sentience. And the harsh reality here is that lives must be sacrificed for the greater good.

Iron Will sighed, and looked down. I guess he finally made his choice. He brought himself from the table to my side, extending his hand out grab the ax. I proudly gave it to him, knowing that he will be just as feared as me after this. His face turned from pressured to angered. Air was bellowing out of his nostrils. The anger in his heart was similar to his ancestors at the rodeos. He brought the ax over his head, and shouted,"If somepony thinks you're jive...take their pathetic lives!"

The ax was brought down in a swooping motion, decapitating all three of the ponies at the same time. The heads jumped into the air, and fell a couple feet away from its former residence. The bodies of the ponies stayed perfectly still for a couple seconds before all of them crumbled to the floor. I bent over slightly to examine the stump of Crimson Rage. The the anatomy of a ponies neck was exactly how I expected it to be, all dark red with a circular bone in the center. No specific arteries could be located. I couldn't even spot his windpipe! How do these ponies even exist if their throats don't even have an esophagus?

Iron Will stood with the ax in air. He was panting, and covered in blood. The angered frown on his face formed into a smile. I know he couldn't see it, but I was smiling for him. It took less than two hours for him to go from wimp to champ. He was going to go farther in this world than he would've without me, and that made me feel like I had purpose. Blood began gushing from the stumps of the former convicts. I turned from the bodies back to the observing crowd, and I announced,"If anyone fucks with either me or my friend, you'll end up like this!"

Several more inmates turned back to their meals. My plan was unfolding faster than I thought it would. I have already gotten a right hand man, eliminated his enemies, and established a reputation for myself, and breakfast isn't even over yet! I sat back down in my respective seat. The ax disappeared from my friends hand, he proudly strutted his way back to the table. There were several blood splotches on his body. A quick glance over of myself revealed the same. Blood splotches, on my chest, arms, and(I assume) mask. I leaped from the desk and sat down on the bench bellow. My oxen leaned in to say something quietly.

"That was incredible!" He said in a whispered tone. "I've never felt more alive!"

"It's the adrenaline rush, you're gonna feel like that for a while."

"No! It's not that. Minotaurs have a natural knack for fighting. Whenever a Minotaur slays a foe, his body rewards him with the feeling of euphoria! Ever since I came to Equestria, I haven't been able to fight anyone, and it's been killing me!" I guess it was an evolutionary trait for the Minotaur body to release dopamine whenever it kills something. Does that make minotaurs better hunters? Food for thought.

"If minotaurs have a natural urge to fight, why did you let those three beat you?"

"I was a broken bull. The system broke me. I didn't want to fight because that would mean I would be a bigger monster in their eyes."

"I know that feeling, friend."

"But so what? Iron Will was born a fighter. If I can't fight with my clan, I'll find somewhere to fight, and call that home."

I leaned in and placed my hand on Iron's shoulder. He may not have seen it, but I had a proud smile on my face.

"Welcome home, Iron Will."

Iron Will reminded me of myself. Both of us wanted to be accepted at one point, both allowed the system to work them, and both were physically threatened. I thought that if I just did what I was told, I'd eventually get out of here. I bet he felt the same. But sometimes, stereotypes are meant to be true. The Minotaur labelled monster actually has an itch in his mind that tells him he needs to fight. That man in the armor just murdered three ponies to make a name for himself. Even if we didn't try to be monsters and eventually got out on good behavior, we'd never fit in. These ponies are probably like the ponies my parents used to watch when they were kids, all girly and sparkly, no sign of ugliness or reality anywhere. If I wanted to fit in, I'd have to force them.

I still didn't like killing, for the conscious voice in my head still bangs on the mental prison wall that I locked him in. But if I'm going to live here, I need to do what's necessary to survive. And if I have to kill to survive, than I better stop whining about morality every time I end a life. It's going to happen often.

*****

Lunch was close to ending. It went by faster than expected. Several other prisoners gave Iron Will their lunches as a sign of respect. I was offered some as well, but declined. Even if I had the ability to consume anything, I'd pass on that offer just because of the disgusting trolls working kitchen duties. Instead, I spaced out, listening to on of my fathers favorite singers. The sound of Iron Will destroying another meal while talking was mixed with the lyrics of both anger and hopelessness.

"Mmmfph! And another thing about dragons!..."

'Wearing me out...'

"Armph! To this day, he still owes me money!..."

'Hangin around...'

"I guess he never found his testicle after that!..."

'Getting me down...'

"And that is the tale of Hue Heffer!..."

Using the retinal scan, I dismissed my music and focused in on my friend. He had managed to clear twelve plats of green glop. My proud oxen friend lifted his hooves onto table in stride of his victory over his meal. He must be so proud of his new found power.

"Iron, Im just curious, but what's the schedule for the rest of the day? I mean, do we just shoot the breeze in our cell?" As bad ass as I wanted to be, I still have never been to prison.

"What, you don't know? What, is this your first time here?"

"In this part of the prison. They, err, locked me in solitary confinement."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Didn't know what I was, so they kept me in a cold dark room until they decided it was safe enough for me to be here." They'll eventually find out that I bent over backwards for the guards at first. And when that day comes, it will be embarrassing. But it'll buy me some time to think of a better response to the accusation.

"Well, next, we go to the courtyard. It's not the outside courtyard that you think. It's more of a hole in a giant cavarn where we can work out and, at least, see the sun. Then, lunch. Then, we get to wander around our cell block freely until five when we go to dinner. Then we get placed in our cells, minus the people who fight that night. Then, around eight, twenty ponies go in and fight in the arena. Only ten come back out."

"Really, how many new inmates do you get?"

"Well, your the newest one in months!"

"Why?"

"With the stories of this prison spreading around Symponia, crime rates have dropped to an all time low. No pony wants to risk getting sent off to here to die! If somepony has no other option but to resort to crime, they move to Equestria, where they are more forgiving on their prisoners. We initially had five thousand fighters, but now only the best remain."

"What about the other parts of the prison? The non fighting parts?"

"They haven't dwindled in numbers, but neither have they gained any pony in years!"

"Has anyone ever been set free?"

"Nope. That's the point of this place. You're here until you die."

"Iron, this place will not be our final resting place. I guarantee that. I have a plan."

"Oh really? What's-" he was cut short by a series of guards entering the room.

"BREAKFAST HOURS ARE OVER!"

"I'll tell you later, Iron. Too many ears." I told my compadre as we were forced to rise. The guard ahead stepped around the decaying bodies of Irons enemies and placed iron cuffs around me. It was going to be significantly harder to impress these ponies if they were experience hardened fighters. But, if I must, I must. It's time for the next step of my plan to come to fruition.

Making a Shady Deal

To recap, nothing much happened after breakfast. We were all moved to from the cafeteria, through a series of rock tunnels and several inclining ramps, to a large cavern with a single a single hole drilled on the ceiling. It acted as a spotlight of sorts, so most avoided it for fear of being noticed by someone hankering for a quick murder. What wasn’t illuminated by the wheel in the sky was by lamps on the sides of the cave. The lamps were illuminating a series of weight lifting stations. From Dumbbells and barbells, to benches and Basketball courts, this room was your one stop shop for getting pumped. On a side note, who knew that Basketball would endure the test of time for so long?

After a minute or so upon arrival, Iron Will made his way to the Barbell and asked me to spot for him. Several ponies decided to stay clear from us, so it created an awkward amount of equipment being unused next to us. I doubted that they were truly afraid, it might’ve been a rule to stay clear of the angry ponies. Upon spacing out, I did notice one pony staring at us. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but this one had a look about him. A desire that he wore on his face, and his desire was me.

It was difficult to see from afar, but my HUD managed to zoom in and brighten the area to make him more apparent. I took note of his specific look: Pegasus, Baby blue coat, slicked back black hair and soul patch, midnight blue eyes. His cutie mark appeared to be a knife with the tip facing down with a couple stacks of gold coins behind the knife. It was obvious that he was a hitman. I’ll be sure to watch my back in case he shows his ugly mug near me. That's all that really happened for the entire time in the courtyard.

We were only given an hour of courtyard time before forcing us back into the halls and taking us back to the cafeteria again for lunch. It yet again proved to be uneventful. A nice circle of open seats surrounded Iron and I. Iron kept droning on about how he once beat a dragon into submission. I could tell right off the bat that it was either a huge lie or a partial truth, so I zoned out. I noticed the same pony staring at me again. It was starting to become unsettling. What was he planning? And what does he want with me? For the entire hour, I took note of every action he made. When he wasn’t staring, he was talking to his friend who sat across from him. When he wasn’t talking, he was eating. And when he wasn’t eating, he was staring again. He spent the entire lunch period repeating this pattern. I was glad when they finally ordered us back into line and out of the cafeteria. It meant I didn’t have to deal with his leers.

Which brings me to now, resting on my bed and listening to my blue ox friend snore uncontrollably. Iron Will informed (before hopping onto his bunk and passing out) that the guards need an hour to switch shifts, so they had to lock up everyone for at least an hour. It's not terrible to be honest. The only true problem is my friends excessive snoring and even then the snore could easily be drowned out by my suits sound system. But my thoughts were not as easy to escape. Who was that pony? What did he want with me? Judging by his cutie mark, he was a hitman. So did was a potential client, or a target? Most importantly, can I take him in a fight? I may have size and weapon arsenal on my side, but he could be one of those guys that knows how to stop a bullet, or how to use an opponent's body weight to their advantage.

It took some will but I managed to herd my thoughts from that pony to my main plan. I needed to revise my domination manuscript. To be honest, I was only winging it with one goal in mind. If I had a chance to get it organized in my head, things may go as planned without a single hiccup. I know I can't plan a whole lot right now, but I could at least think through this a little more thorough. I sat up in my bed and swung my legs off the mattress. My torso leaned over my waist and my elbows acted as a kickstand on my legs. With myself in a good thinking position, I began to deeply contemplate my plans.

Okay, let’s start with the objective; Freedom without consequence from the outside world. If I was to break out of here just with my weapons alone, there’d be an army on my ass. Whoever runs symphonia would make sure that I was to be silenced. But if I had an army of my own, they’d have to make negotiations. From what the fiery warden told me before, I’ve gathered that if war was declared, the Symphonians wouldn’t stand a chance. And the Symphonian leader wouldn’t risk sending an army to fight mine if it left them vulnerable to an invasion. This meant that they would have no other option but to negotiate. With my goal in mind, the army became an independent variable. There was no way I would succeed without it. Now, I need a few dependent variables.

Hmm. I understand that this prison has different factions. I can’t identify them yet, but I still know they exist. I need the trust of the key personnel in these factions. Earning their trust can be done easily by a series of favors and other deeds for them. I needed to be careful of who I join with first. Certain rivalries between factions could lead to certain dead ends. I’d need an advisor to help me make the harder decisions. One that wasn’t Iron Will. He’s a nice guy and all, but I don’t think he’d be best for helping me make the more important decisions. I’ll add ‘Get Advisor’ onto the to do list.

Next up is how I would arm my army. I can’t make plans on escape until I have an advisor to co plan with, so this is the next most important detail. I noticed that you were allowed to wear armor and use weapons in the arena, but they don’t let the inmates keep the equipment. There has to be an armory nearby where I can steal weapons for my soldiers. I should be able to locate it tonight, seeing as how I will be fighting every night from now on. If worst comes to worse, and I have no source of weapons from the armory, I can always dip into my current weapon supplies. The Armory was fit to hold one of almost every weapon for every Shadow Marine in service. That’s over one hundred thousand weapons. Ten thousand of them are melee. It should be easy to make them temporary weapons. Plus, I can take them away from my men in case there is threat of mutiny.

The final thing I need to sort out is how I can get the unicorns to use their magic and how to get the pegasi to fly again. It doesn’t take a genius to know that only the unicorns can do magic, but it took a keener look to notice why the inmates weren't using it. I never noticed until lunch today that all the unicorns had weird gold braces around their horns. And that the pegasi had gold rings around the bases of their wings. I thought it was just a gang apparel that I wasnt aware about. Hell, Iron has one sticking out of his nose. But then I started to notice that anyone who wasn't a regular pony had these gold bands on them. It’s clear that they inhibit use of magic and cripple to pegasi’s flying ability. I’d need to find a way to get them off if I wanted them to be fully effective.

That was just about everything I could go over for now. I decided I might as well catch some Z’s as well. After a quick check of my HUD clock, I noticed that I only managed to kill five minutes with my scheming. There was nothing else to do for now. My legs swung back onto the mattress, and my head dropped to the pillow under it. My eyes shut and began to wander off into that dark abyss of slumber.

****

My dreams were halted by the realization of need to be awake. It was an odd feeling, like fighting to keep yourself from slipping into a coma. But, I was strong, and managed to pull myself from my nighttime hallucinations. My eyes trouged open, and revealed that my cell door was open. I guess Iron failed to inform me that it was time. A yawn escaped my throat, and my I sat up in bed. This action was followed by a quick stretch and an incredible urge to wipe the eye crust from my tear ducts. Alas, that urge will never be satisfied. My body rose from its resting area and scanned the room. Indeed, Iron had left me to go do god knows what. I should worry too much, but he's quite a talker. He might say something he might regret.

The clock on my suit revealed it to be 3pm. I slept for an hour longer than expected. Damn. I could've been using this time to be making an appearance for myself. Oh well, better late then never. I strode out of my cell and onto the circular walkway that my cell was connected to. I placed my hands on the railing and place most of my body weight on the metal bars holding me. The entire block still appeared the same, dark cloud in the center, flood lights on the cells circumferencing the cloud. A quick thermal scan showed that the number of pegasi in the cloud had almost tripled. It seemed unnecessary to have that many guards on watch, but then again they must've had trouble with less guards.

It was odd, thermal scans also showed that almost everyone on my level was gone. Moved to a different level. Everyone, except for the blob five cells away from me. To my right was a pony, moving towards my general direction. I turned off my thermal to get a better look at the suspect.

Of course, it was the baby blue pegasi. Bastard. He probably paid off the entire block in cigs, pixies sticks, or whatever's contraband to get us alone on this level. Come to think about it, the pegasi guards did seem to ignore my presence. Maybe it was their job to just accept it. If that was true, why did they go after the two colts when I first showed up.

Now is not the time for conspiracy. That blue son of a bitch is getting closer. I need to get him in a cell. If the guards notice my gun, they might get angry. I released the guard railings and began to casually stroll away from him. I kept a slow pace, my advisory decided to speed up slightly. The sounds of hooves striking the ground became more rapid. I responded by turning left into some other ponies cell. I quickly hid around the small space of a wall that the room provided. If this fool was stupid enough to follow me, then it would spell doom for me.

As sure as the sky was blue, his ugly mug stuck itself into to the cell followed by the rest of him. Fool. "Hey, where'd ya go? I just wanna talk." He asked as he checked under the bed. This guy was not fantastic at hide and go seek. But his tone of voice seemed to check out with what I expected. He sounded like a no funny business Vegas style gangster. The one with a slight monotone, but managed to always inflect the impression of annoyance. Doesn't really matter now, he was about to be mine.

I charged towards him, he managed to throw his head towards my direction. This enabled me to land an uppercut which forced the top part of his body into the air. My forearm met with his neck, and pushed against it until I had him pinned against his wall. Funny, I'd expect a pony to be heavier that this. It felt like I was holding a child in air. Don't get me wrong, standing on his hind legs, he was just a few inches shorter than me, but I guess he was just not as muscular as other ponies. His attempts of speaking morphed into gasps for air and struggling grunts. I was in power, I was truly the master of my fate.

"I...am not..(cough) you're enemy..."

I am now extremely confused. My arm let up enough on his throat to allow him to breath, but not enough to let him go. What would he want with me if he didn't want to kill me?

"You're not?"

"No? Then why are you here?"

"Business proposal, just let me down first!"

"How do I know you won't try anything once I let you go?"

"I saw what you can do in the lunch room. If I wanted you dead, I would need a group of ten or more."

Fair enough. My arm let up on his throat, which allowed him to slide down to the ground. My new friend rose from the ground and dusted himself and then raised his hoof towards me.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Shady, Shady Deal. You must be Anthony."

"You'd be correct."

"I'll have you know it's impolite to refuse shaking hooves in a business deal" He explained as his hoof wavered slightly in air. You’d think a race of horses would have something more...well equine to show business than something so human. I pushed this thought out of my mind and shook his hoof in response. The feeling of a hoof was much different than horses from my time. There was no bone, only a soft and squishy hunk of muscle at the bottom. Our limbs detached from each other and we looked each other square in the eyes. I decided to speak up first.

“What do you want from me?”

“Can you please move, I would be more comfortable in the corner.” He asked with almost a hinting tone of voice. I did as he pleased and moved. He then trotted into his little corner and began nipping under his wing. From his wing, he retrieved a box of cigarettes. From the box, came a cigarette which he placed in his mouth. The box was placed back under his wing.

“With all those gadgets, I assume you have a light. Hook me up, big fella.” He commanded. He was right, I do have a light for him. The black fog engulfed my hand, leaving behind two pipes (one was a gas pipe, the other was the ignition pipe which had a torch flame burning at the end) and several rings which connected my fingers to the weapon with strings attached to the rings and the gas pipe. It was primarily used as an intimidation weapon. We’d often recruit third world fighters for our cause by convincing the locals that our soldiers could produce magical flames from our hands.

My hand moved the torch flame to his cigarette and successfully lit it. Funny, if I moved my fingers upwards, I wouldn't have to worry about whatever this guys plans are. I could just kill him here, and go on my merry way. But, that would be stupid. Even if he was here to kill me, it wouldn't be hard to stop him. Hell, I just had him pinned against the wall. The Baby blue pegasi took a puff, and exhaled the smoke upwards.

“Sorry bout the random request. The guards don’t like it when ponies smoke.
And they can’t enter a cell without physical evidence. They can’t see my ciggy, they can’t do anything about it.”

“Won’t they see the smoke?”

“It’s a little difficult to see smoke when you’re residing in smoke yourself. That black cloud they hide in makes it harder to see clouds of any other variety.”

“Good to know that the inmates are free to poison their lungs with Tobacco. It’s shit like that that killed my Unc-” I was cut off by a very amusing question.

“The hell’s Tobacco?”

“Isn’t that what you’re smoking?”

“Do you know what a cigarette is? It’s highly condensed sugar that can be smoked. The taste of sugar releases dopamine in the brain and helps calm the mind. When I heard you were foreign, I didn’t know you were that foreign.” I was dumbfounded. I struggled to not laugh as hard as possible. They had candy cigarettes that actually affected their mind! This world is like a little kid version of mine. I bet their alcohol is just fruit punch and apple cider. Is their meth is just sour candy? Do I have to be over twenty one to drink root beer?! If I ever get this suit off, I bet I could win more drinking competitions than anyone else could in the history of ponies!

“Never mind. You’re here for business. So what business do you want from me?” My new acquaintance took a deep puff, and began his request.

“You caused quite a stir this morning. You made a lot of enemies with that little publicity stunt.”

“Enemies?”

“The first three you killed were muscle for Zetito’s gang, so the Zebra’s now have it out for you. Then, you managed to get three other ponies beheaded. Crimson Rage was the right hand man to Flame War, so that means the Fire Starters gang wants you Kebab-ed. Silver Hammer was the son of Maxwell Steedison, leader of the Laborers gang. No one gave two shits about Dark Moon’s death.”
“I knew I’d be making enemies by doing so, but I have their attention, don’t I?”

“Oh, you most certainly do. But not the good attention. You’re becoming a thorn in their side, the will stop at nothing to end you in a second. Dont think that suit will keep you safe. Some guards informed Flame and Maxwell that Itchy managed to plant his blade straight through your gut.”

“But I survived that. Any wound they deal, I can just heal from.”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘If it bleeds, you can kill it’? Well, you are most definitely mortal by those rules.”

“Why are you telling me this? You still haven’t explained why you’re here.”

“I’m here because Maxwell called in a favor. To end you. I say, give him the real favor and watch you get slaughtered in the arena tonight.”

“I knew you were a hitman. I just knew it.”

“Oh? Is my jaw supposed to hit the floor? Anyone with eyes can tell it from my cutie mark.”

“Okay! Okay. You dont have to be so vicious. Now, why am I going to get ‘slaughtered’?”

“You will be going up against Whisper. She’s a unicorn who uses her ghost like appearance and spells to slay her opponents. No pony has ever even touched her on the battle field. And you’re guns won’t work. She’s been known to catch up to three bullets at the same time. A lot of ciggies are riding on you to lose. If you manage to live, you’d actually be considered a decent contender to bet on.”

“Duly noted. Why are you telling me this? You could’ve just let me fight and die without the heads up.”

“For one main reason. Maxwell is an honest boss who pays for hard work. That’s why his gang is called the Laborers. Because ‘They labor away for an honest pay to make other ponies go away’. But you have potential to be better than Maxwell.”

“What does that mean?”

“You ask a lot of questions. Lucky for you, I have answers.” He provided as another puff of smoke bellowed from his mouth.

“On your first day, you’ve managed to piss off two of the biggest gangs in the prison while turning the prison’s personal bitch into a fighting soldier.”

“Turning Iron into a fighter again was easy. I just had to BS a story and tell him he was stronger than that.”

“You did more for him than that. Iron wasn’t truly changed until you personally got the ponies who bitchified him and had him behead them. That takes balls. Way more balls than what Maxwell will ever have.”

“So what you’re saying is you want to work with me?”

“I know you’re intentions. You want your own gang of ponies to order around. And I can tell that if you had your own gang, I’d be safer under your command than Maxwells. And I have good reasons to believe that. For one, if Maxwell and you got in a fight, you’d definitely win. Second, you don't have any inhibitors on you. Meaning you’d be the most powerful fighter during meal times. Finally, Maxwell is a dick. A stern father that only wants the best from his laborers. If you kill somepony and he thinks they suffered, then he puts you on his naughty list. I don’t think a guy who murdered his teacher, his girlfriend, and a judge with a hammer should be in the right for moral decisions.”

“If he doesn’t want his victims to suffer, why am I going to go fight his toughest fighter?”

“Because that was his only son. The guy is emotionally destroyed. He wants you to feel the same pain he felt this morning.”

“I’m afraid his pain is going to continue.”

“That’s what I like to hear. So, consider me an advisor. As an advisor, I’ll keep you from doing stupid shit. I’ll also help you recruit ponies to join your cause. I know a good hunk of Maxwell’s laborers who are also sick of his shit, so you’ll have some fifty ponies working for you.”

“It’s better than what I have now. You have yourself a deal.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, if I’m gonna be convincing ponies to work for you, I need to know your intentions.”

“I think they’ll follow me once they hear my goal.”

“Alright, what’s your plan?”

*****

We had moved from the cell I cornered him to my cell. If I was to be discussing business, I might as well do it without the original residents walking in on our discussion. Shady was kept a deep stare after I had told him my plan.

“Wow…”

“I know it’s not perfect but…”

“Lemme, tell you something. That plan was cancerous. From this point on, I make the plans.”

“Fair enough.” It hurt to hear my intelligence in question. My plan wasnt that bad! But he knew what he was doing.

“Even though your plan was insulting to even hear, your goal was solid. A lot of ponies here are itchin to see sunlight again. And to grant them freedom, would be a Solaire send. All they need is somepony to lead them there.”

“Why haven’t they risen before?”

“We tried once. Celestia managed to organize an army to fight us off. That’s when the guards were replaced by Equestrian soldiers. The guards present originally came from Equestria. It’s going to be hard to organize enough inmates to escape the grasps of one thousand highly trained Equestrian soldiers.”

“I understand. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes. So, what’s the first step?

“Winning tonight’s fight would be a great start, agreed?

Chopin, Humans, and a Fight

I sit on a wooden bench in a dungeon like room with several sets of weapons hanging on the wall. This is where the fighters prepare themselves before a fight. It is here that ponies retrieve their weapons and armor before a fight. The equipment itself is stored in a cellar that a guard travels down to fetch gear. There is a desk opposite to me with wire link fence surrounding the corner, ensuring that no pony is try anything while the guard fetches equipment. If a new pony arrives without weapons and armor, they are assigned generic equipment. This is also where the unicorns and pegasi get their gold bands removed.

Hours have past since my conversation with Shady Deal. It was now time to fulfil the first phase of the new plan: Destroy the enemy. Shady told me that I need to not only kill my enemy, but humiliate, mutilate, and decapitate her as well. Whisper is famed for striking fear into the hearts of her enemies. Most ponies hire her services in the arena to kill anyone who wrongs a specific gang. If I kill her, I’d more than likely fill her position for pony executor. And if I had the ponies the Shady said would work for me, I’d have a small gang of executioners at my side. But I cant just kill her with one blow. It might look like a lucky hit, making me look like an amatuer who should’ve died in the fight. I need to assert myself and look like a champion to these ponies.

Shady also warned me that a machete and riot shield were just too basic. I knew that a good chunk of the weapons I had stored were a series of medieval and pre-gunpowder melee weapons. I was afraid to use them since they break so easily, but then I remembered that they could be easily repaired and replaced if I just sent the broken ones back and spawned a similar weapon. Shady decided that the best weapon for fighting her would be something along the lines of a durable blade. A basic shortsword is what I decided would be perfect for her. The riot shield could only be replaced by a European Spartan styled riot shield. It was lighter than a tower shield, but it still looked lame. I would have deal with the appearance and use that in battle.

Iron Will was sitting next to me, yapping about another story of how he bested a Dragon at some stupid competition. Listening to him would only cause my IQ to drop in a slow, molasses speed. I muted him ten minutes ago, and replaced his mind rot of a story with Chopin’s Nocturne Op.9 No.2. It made quite the difference. The sounds of the pianos sweet story helped clear my mind. The bass notes creating a reliable foundation for the Soprano notes to playfully sound their notes. It reminded of a sparrow, flying high above a Manhattan skyline. Below the sparrow is chaos, a barrage of frustrated pedestrians and noise polluting cars. To fly in between the buildings would require attention, and would create order for the sparrow. But above it all, is a vast, blue and white clouded playground for the sparrow. A canvas for the Sparrow to fly freely. The bass notes are other sparrows flying through the massive skyscrapers, the Soprano resembling the original Sparrows playful flight patterns. It is in this moment that I find myself in complete and utter bliss. For I was flying with the Sparrow, in my own beautiful canvas. The world around me began to slow down, and I was detached from life itself.

A sudden jab to my side pulled me from the brilliance. It was Iron, who had a dumbfounded expression residing on his face. I muted the Chopin, and listened to what he had to tell me.

“I didn’t know you could cast illusions!” Iron exclaimed.

“Whaddya mean?”

“I looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention to my amazing triumph over the Samarei ponies to see you, well, floating in clouds!”

“Be more specific Iron.”

“There was a ten foot radius around us. In that space was just light blue! There were clouds whizzing past your head, and a bunch of birds flying under you. You could also see Manehatten below our feet. I didn’t notice at first because I was really getting into the story!”

Holy crap. I forgot about that! The holographic projection unit in my suit must’ve been on standby while I was lost in my imagination. I wonder if I could start using this to my benefit. It’d require me to be alone, since I have to concentrate my hardest on one thought without my ADD taking over and derailing my train of thought. But who knows what possibilities await with this. Iron Will then added,” Except, it looked like a really detailed version of Manehatten.”

“Iron, that wasn’t Manehatten. That was my country's largest city, New York City.”

“But I saw all the landmarks! Like Central Park and the Empire State building!”

“Iron, the more I hear about your world and mine, the more I think your world just copied mine.” The similarities have gone from lame puns to outright creepy identical copies. Once this was all over, I’ll find out why there is so many connections from their world to mine.

*****

There was still ten minutes to kill. And I don’t want to go back to Chopin, for worry of the HPU turning on again. I might as well hear a good story from Iron. And I mean, a GOOD story.

“Iron.”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Tell me about humans.”

“Aren’t you a human? Shouldn’t you know the stories?”

“My version of the story and this worlds are incredibly different. Just tell me what you were first told about humans.”

“Well, Mama Iron warned me about humans. That if I didn’t eat all of my dinner, the Humans will sense that I’m weak and eat me.”

“Why is that?”

“Humans are known to eat other living things! Like cows, pigs, birds, and ponies!”

“Well, you're right about that.”

“What?! Don’t tell me that you’ve actually eaten ponies before!” The guard behind the weapon desk shifted uneasily away from me. I had to be delicate with this one. It might not be wise to tell him that steak was one of my favorite dishes. I could just fib about it and face the consequences later. But that’s how betrayals happen. If I’m going to tell him, I might as well tell him.

“No, Iron. Humans don’t eat ponies. Before the invention of cars, humans would ride them.”

“Really? It’s hard to imagine the ponies agreeing to that!”

“Well, that’s also the thing. Ponies weren’t sentient. They didn’t really have a choice. We’d tame them, then ride them. Same with Cows, pigs, birds, and other creatures that can now think and talk.”

“Did you have to teach the unicorns to do certain magic? Or did they just know when to use it when needed?”

“We didn’t have unicorns. Or pegasi. Or magic!”

“What!? Then how can you spawn-”

“Science! This is all the work of several years of research in inter dimensional technology! There’s nothing magic about me.”

“But what about you flying in the clouds! That was magic, right?” Iron began to panic. The thought of a world without magic was like the thought of a world without oxygen.

“That was all just a Hologram. Tiny bits of projected light from my helmet that alter light waves around it to create false images. I was just deep in thought and it started creating my happy place.”

“But how! How did humans survive without magic?”

“Persistence Iron. Our tenacity is brutal. Humans won’t stop until they get what they want. It’s just in our nature.”

Iron stood dumbfounded. He couldn’t possibly understand a world without magic. I know that he’d never understand, but that was the beauty of it all. I have a very small chance of tainting this world with my technology, just because it requires zero magic to exist.

“Iron, there’s something else that I’m going to tell you about humans, and I don’t know if you’re going to like it.” I figure now is the time to strike while he’s still confused. With any luck, he’ll just add it onto our strange customs.

“What is it?”

“While I don’t eat it anymore, Cow, pig, and bird are the primary food sources of humans. We eat them all them time.”

“What?!?”

“I’m sorry, but when I left there were more cows than humans, and all of them were used for food. Except for the Indian cows.”

“B-but…Why are humans so cruel?”

“I don’t know Iron. That was the one things had yet to figure out.”

“You said you didn’t eat cows right?!”

“Well, not anymore. I don’t eat anything anymore. This suit injects me with a vitamin enriched soylent to keep me alive. But that doesn’t mean I am without sin. I’m sorry.”

Iron sat in silence for several seconds. He was trying to process this all. I wonder what he thought of me. After all, I’d be shocked too if I had a boogie man roommate who used to eat people. Iron Will looked back to me and sighed.

“I forgive you, Anthony. This was in the past, and it should stay there."

“Thanks.” If I ever got out of this suit, I’d need to begin the apology process again. I need a healthy source of proteins in my diet. I suppose fish don’t have the ability to think, maybe they’d make a great substitute.

“Tell me more about humans, Iron.”

“Well, it’s said that they are very strong. They have brown or black skin and travel in hordes. They wield axes and are highly aggressive. They mainly live in huts and they are lead by shamans, clan chiefs, and strong hunters. A successful human will go pillaging towns for loot and woman to be their slaves.” I think humans here are confused with Orcs...or they got it right and only studied Vikings.

"You've got it all wrong Iron. Humans are...well...complicated.”

"How so?"

“Well…” Damn, it’s becoming difficult to even explain my own species. There are so many contradictions with my people. I cant say that we’re peaceful, nor can I say we’re warmongering. For every Charlemagne there’s a Hitler to counter. For every Mother Teresa helping children in need, there was a Taliban soldier to put them back to work. And we’re not even accounting for those right down the middle. Businessmen, scientists, even politicians lie somewhere in that gray area in between good and bad. There are good businessmen and evil scientists, but they are dedicated to one cause, and that's to find progression. Whether it be expanding their business, discovering a new technology, or changing the course of political history.

Wait. That’s it! I’ve just summed it up right there!

“Iron” I began with hands ready for complex gestures. “Humans are categorized into three groups. There are humans who are good and do things out of the kindness in their hearts. There are humans who only seek progression, who only care for business or science. And then there are humans who do wrong, who only seek for power and for the misery of mankind around them. Since my hologram unit is working, I can explain this to you in a simpler manner.”

Iron will had a slight look of offense draw over his face. I guess simpler wasn’t the proper word to use with him. Oh well, he’ll get over it. I focused back on creating a visual representation for my Minotaur friend. Eyes closed and mind focused, I managed to create a bright and colored bar in the air. It appeared to a be a thermometer style bar lying on it’s side. On one end was a green side, and on the other was red. The middle of the bar was gray. As the green and red parts of the bar got closer to the gray, the colors began to fade into a greenish gray or reddish gray mix.

I pointed towards the green end and explained,”This side represents the percentage of humanity that is good. The red side represents the bad. The gray is neutral. On the very far end of the green is the nicest of the nice. That part is reserved for three very pure gentlemen: Jesus, Buddha, and Gandhi.”

My finger slide down from the green end to the red end.” On this side, we have the very evilest of the evil: Attila the Hun, Caligula, and Heinrich Himmler.” My finger raced to the middle of the red section. “This section is mainly reserved for thugs and gang members who just want to be a part of something bigger. But it can also include of soldiers from an extremist group who fight for their beliefs or thieves who rob others to feed themselves.”

My finger slid again to the middle of the green section.”This part is just for the everyday guy who recycles, donates every so often, and helps out someone when they need it.” My finger strolled slightly towards the grey section. The color it created was a slight tint of emerald in a sea of bland. “This is where I am. Don’t get me wrong, before the war I was on the other side of average joe. But now… well, war changes a man.”

“Are humans fond of war?” Iron asked while studying the red section of the bar.

“Are you kidding me? It’s all over our culture. Video games, movies, TV shows and even some songs are filled with war! Our children play war games, and our high schools all have recruitment stations! I’m not saying I hate our army for doing this, I just hate war as a whole.”

“If you hate war so much, why are you a soldier? And, while we’re at it, a soldier who’s so heavily armed?

I sat back and sighed. It was about time that I told someone my actual story. It’ll be good to let Iron know about my past. I don’t care if the guard in the corner hears. If anything, it’ll just make the guards more secure with being around me if they know I’m a softy.

“I was drafted into the Allies when I was nineteen. Before that, I lived on a farm with my family in the middle of Colorado.”

“You mean Colt-”

“If at any point I name a familiar location without a horse pun, do not correct me.”

“Got it.” Iron replied.

“I was raised to be good. My father was an accountant with several ties to the city council. He was a bit of a music geek. He introduced me into so many different types of music, most of the stuff in my suit is from his old playlists. He was strict, but only because he knew it would make me a better person. Whenever I got into some really weird TV show, he’d tease me until I saw how embarrassing it was to say I liked it. Whenever I tried to weasel out of manual labor, he’d shame me into doing it. He was hard, but fair.”

I sat back and tried to keep the positive memories of him in my mind. The memory of his tears when I was drafted will always be imprinted in my memory over everything else. I tried my hardest to suppress that thought deeper into my mind.”My Mother was a nice woman. Never really strict, but always kind. She played games, watched football, and drank with the rest of my family. She was practically one of the guys. She was just so laid back, like there wasn't a care for the world in her thoughts. I always wanted to be as jovial as she was. Maybe some day I can be as carefree as her.”

“I remember wanting to take a year off after high school to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I finally decided that wanted to pursue Law as a career, and maybe sing in a local choir as a hobby.”
I shifted myself forward and hunched over. My hands began to twiddle about as I began my next statement. “But that was before the war. I was drafted soon after my nineteenth birthday. I was forced into a boot camp for frontline infantry to fight the Monarchs.”

“Who are they?” Iron inquired.

“The Monarchs are a group of Russian and Eastern European soldiers ruled by a Russian geneticist named Aleksandr Stanislavovich who believed he had the perfect genetics. He was near super human, and people on that side of the planet started to say he was the next step in human evolution.”

“What did he do to get the Allies so mad at him?”

“Well, he kidnapped famous Virologists and geneticists to create a virus that altered other peoples genetics to create a race of super humans. It was spread through a gas, and would later be spread by a transfer of fluids from a superhuman to a victim. It normally would mean beating the victim until he bleeds, then spitting on his open wound.”

“What was so bad about these superhumans? I mean, you do have guns and swords on you, they can't be that bad.”

“Well, that’s the thing. Superhumans are almost invincible.” I focused enough to create a holograph miniature of a Superhuman to show Iron what I was talking about it. He marveled at the sight of the beast before him.

“This is what they look like. Standing at seven foot with barrel chest and same generic face, these baddies are the envy of the world. Unlike humans, they prefer to be nude and unarmed. They do not need clothes nor do they need any other weapon besides their own fists. They’re lack of sexual organs or any other opening in their body shows that they have no weakness. Their blank white skin is evidence that they’re skin does not burn or absorb any of the suns radiation. It also has a tightly bound weave of harder than steel cells which protect it from most hits from a knife or bullet. Even if it gets through, it won’t matter. Superhumans organs and muscles will start to regenerate if destroyed or injured. Even if you remove their heart, they’ll just grown a new one in seconds and keep fighting. And its bones are literally cast iron. The same density, the same color, and the same compound as iron.”

“Wait, can’t you regenerate from blows too?”

“Only with the assistance of a first aid unit and a liberal application of stem cells. Superhumans can do it just….because!

“Because why?”

“We don’t know. We’ve never killed a superhuman and been able to bring the body back for analysis. When encountered, we mainly just run. They are vicious, and will attack anyone on sight. Even other Monarchs. The only person they don’t attack is Aleksandr. They take direct orders from him and only him.”

I pulled away the imaged of the superhuman and continued with my story. “For years, the Monarchs have been using the superhumans to slowly conquer most of Europe. Our strongest marines were no match for the power of the superhumans. We’d always get overwhelmed by them before we could find an advantage point. That is when the ACA developed an answer to the superhuman problem. The Shadow Marine.”

“I assume that’s what you are, right?” Iron Will inferred.

“Yep. With every single weapon thought imaginable placed in a space station and at the disposal of five thousand angry soldiers, we started to make great progress in the war. Eventually, we found out the weakness of the Superhuman. They could be killed by destroying the spine, completely removing the brain, or draining them of blood. And while these actions are incredibly hard to pull off, it was now possible to kill a superhuman.”

“And that’s where you came in, right? They placed you in a suit and you were on your way?”

“Well, no. Promise me that you won't tell anyone.”

“I promise. Just tell me already!”

“Alright. The Shadow Marines are always assisted by a group of three other soldiers. A medic, a mechanic, and a replacement. The medic and mechanic are pretty self explanatory, but the replacement was someone who was the exact same body type as the original Shadow Marine. If the original were to die anytime during a fight, the medic and the mechanic would be tasked with putting the suit on the replacement. To prevent the replacement from wimping out on the last second, they made it so the suit could not be unequipped by anyone else besides a mechanic. That’s why I’m still in this now. My mechanic died on the last mission.

“So you were just a replacement? How long have you been in that suit?!

The guard behind the desk used his magic to lift the gate to the door leading to the arena. The stare in his eye and the grin on his mouth explained that it was time.

“Too long, Iron. Way too long. I’m afraid that it’s my time to go.” I rose from my seat and progressed towards the door entry way. I turned back and looked a worried Iron Will in the eye and asked,”Wish me luck.” Then trudged down the long hallway to the arena.

****

The hallway reminded me of the one they first brought me through when I arrived at G-block. Concrete bricks, white light at the end, and a small feeling that the room I arrive in will be my death. Only this time, I was alone. I could take my time and go over the strategy for taking Whisper down.

Shady told me that I shouldn’t use anything too big on her. He wanted to keep the guards thinking that I could be kept under control if there was a riot. If I whipped out anything ranged and bigger than my arm, then I’d be placed in solitary confinement. If I used anything that looked too powerful, like a flamethrower or a rocket launcher or even a submachine gun, then they’d try to keep me in a tiny concrete cell where all of my weapons would be useless. I asked Shady if I could use a shotgun, he said that it’d be a serious risk and that it should only be used if I have no other choice.

Closer and closer I approached the white light until I finally passed through and entered the lit arena. Taking a few steps in, I observed my surroundings. The entire block looked much bigger from this perspective. Maybe it was the lack of a black cloud in the center that gave it the size. Ponies lined up around each row, cheering and chanting for their favorite contestant, Whisper. Shady had mentioned that my move in the lunch room only made me look like an asshole. I guess I should’ve killed them more discreetly. The spotlights on the top made it impossible to see the ceiling. The fighting arena itself was larger than I expected. If I had to guess, I could compare the size of it to a standard Colosseum arena. There was a chalk outline circling the arena, leaving a five ten foot radius that I assume would be ‘out of bounds’. There was a wooden and iron door opposite to me. With a small shudder, it began to rise. It was at this point that my door began to shut.

Through the dark abyss came a white unicorn with several clouds floating around her. Odd, when she moved her legs stood still. And there was a cloud surrounding her hooves. I assume she casted a spell on her weird pony magic on herself to make her look more like a ghost. Her eyes were gray, which either meant she had nice contacts, or she was blind. I didn’t know if this was an advantage or not. Clouds aside, I noticed she was also wearing a white cloak with a gold trim. She hovered to a white chalk outline designated for the opponent fighter. I quickly shot my head around to find my chalky way point a few feet to my left. Whisper lowered her head in a bow like stature. I returned gesture and lowered my head.

A very loud and apparent ding echoed through the arena, signaling that the battle was on. A revolver spawned in both of my hands. The first strategy was to make her think I wasted all of my ammo on her. I pointed both guns at her and fired in rapid succession. Each bullet was then halted in mid air at least a foot before its destination. All twelve bullets were dropped to the ground as I relinquished my firearms to the black clouds. The circular riot shield and shortsword took place of the guns. I then hid most of my body behind the shield, with sword pulled back and pointing forward. I slowly began walking towards my opponent. With every step I took, she was covered by more clouds of smoke. Once I got to the center, her entire body was engulfed by the fog. The smoke had dispersed only to reveal she was not there. It was almost instinct for me to believe she was behind me. My blade moved forward and then spun around to strike the ghostly pony.

Alas, she was not behind me. I stood dumbfounded at the lack of any enemy until I heard her whisper into my ears,”...it’s no use…” as a painful sting wrapped around my neck. She managed to slit my jugular in the confusion. The crowd cheered in delight by the sight of my blood. It wasn't even much of a show to be killed by the first blow. I suppose they just really wanted me dead. My HUD didn’t even warn me before cauterizing and applying ESC gel to my wound. The sound of singeing flesh and the soothing coolness of the gel helped take my mind off the discouraging chants. A slight prick in my arm had notified me that a blood pack was injected into my body.

Whisper moved to the front of my body, ready to finish the job. Her horn glowed white as a dagger was lifted from her side and prepared to stab. But before she could plant that sucker into my chest, my right arm pulled back and stabbed into my opponents side. Or, at least, it attempted to before she disappeared into smoke again. A ball of pure smoke was now circling the outline of the arena. It stopped to reveal Whisper, charging another spell. There was a red gash along her shoulder, showing that my sword actually managed to hit my target. She wasn't bleeding, which is odd seeing how the same hit on a person or even a regular horse would've cause blood to come running down their shoulder.

I held my shield up to protect myself from whatever spell she had in mind. Her horn fired a several bolts of light into my shield, followed by one larger bolt. The smaller ones bounced off but the larger launched me off of my feet. I landed on my back, skidding along the ground. My head quickly rose to see where she had gone to. There were three balls of smoke similar to the one she just traveled in. Only one traveled left, one traveled right, and one was heading straight towards me. If she was hiding in smoke, I could detect her heat. My thermal came activated to reveal a small heat source coming from the left smoke ball. She wasn’t expecting me to know where she was. So it must’ve been a shock when I turned to her and swung my sword at her as she charged within striking range. I managed to slice her chest before she veered off and crashed into the dirt of the arena. The other two balls turned from my path to hers, creating a giant crash of smoke and engulfing the entire arena with a cloud of smoke. The crowd began to yell. Such things as,”What gives?! We wanna see the action!” Could be heard in the distance. Whisper was trying to mend her wounds with something from her saddlebag. My thermal didn't have a heat signature on the exact object, but it looked almost like an aloe plant. What good would allow do? This isn't a sun burn! Unless the aloe I once remembered also evolved from the former plant. Now would be an excellent time to start toying with her before she dies.

I replaced my sword with a revolver and used my QuickDraw system to take my time and line up my shot. With extreme certainty and wonderful precision, I managed to shoot her horn. The aloe plant was dropped, but something much more interesting happened. Her horn started producing more heat than my thermal vision could registrar. I quickly replaced my pistol with sword and raised my shield in defense. Her head pointed upwards and she howled the most terrifying howl I had ever heard in my life.

“YYYYEEEEEEAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHH!!!!!” She wailed as the clouds of smoke quickly dissipated. Since the cloud was gone, my thermal switched to normal vision. Her horn was emitting a glowing white gel from her horn. It was fascinating, it floated to the ground, so I assumed it was more dense than air, but fell like a feather falling to the earth. If I had to guess what that stuff was, I’d guess liquid magic. My eyes were taken away from the unicorn and towards the audience. There was a dead silence among them. Some of them had their jaws open in awe, others just appeared to be disappointed. My eyes turned back to my opponent, who glared at me with more passion for death any Monarch, Superhuman, or even prisoner combined.

Her head lowered and her horn glowed brighter than ever before. The gel falling from her horn began shooting from it. Aside from magic, tears and whimpers were the only products of Whisper as of this moment. Her horn fired a missile into the ground, which yielded no effect at first. But then, a sharp pain was met at my feet. A glance downwards revealed a dead tree root, wrapping around my feet in a vine like fashion. My sword swung down and struck the root in response, but no visible damage was made. The root yanked my feet from under me and two other roots shot from the ground and grabbed each arm. I was forced to relieve my weapons from duty.

Whisper had made her way over from her original spot and then placed herself a few feet from my left side, ensuring that any pistol shot would be inaccurate. The pain of anguish and defeat washed over her face, though she appeared to be the victor in this context.

“...for guaranteeing my death, I shall ensure yours will be a painful and excruciating one…” She promised as another tear fell from her face. Her horn glowed another time, and three smaller roots stabbed through the ground behind me and through my torso: one through my left lung, one through my diaphragm, and one through my shoulder. I was gasping for air, the pain so excruciating. I was almost paralyzed by the wound. The wounds started to cauterize as my suit desperately scrambled to keep me alive. I had a feeling that it would take more than ESC gel to save me after this. IF I would survive at all.

I know that I wasn't supposed to break Shady’s rules. I know that if I do this, I risk potential solitary confinement. I know that this could fuck me, Iron, and Shady alike…

...but I have no other choice. My vision started to blur, my organs were on fire, and my left hand felt like it was grasping something hard. Like an Italian ‘Lupara’ sawn off shotgun handle. I focused as hard as I possibly could on my enemy as I could. The QuickDraw system slowing down my perception and ensuring a good shot. The first barrel was a test.

BAM!

And it succeeded. A hunched over Whisper had her front right kneecap blown out as four shards of shrapnel floated in mid air. The shotguns scatter shot style of projectile had overwhelmed her ability to stop bullets. The pain must’ve taken her attention off of me, because the roots decided it was time to return to their home. My arms and legs free from their grips, and my wounds now swimming in ESC gel, I managed to roll onto my side, my stomach, and then onto my feet. The shotgun was replaced with the shortsword I planned on killing her with.

The crowd was now on my side. They had never seen a spectacle like this in months! At least, the ones who hadn’t placed bets were on my side. Meaning a good third of the crowd had begun booing. Adrenaline was coursing through my body, I decided to make a statement of her. My left knee was brought upwards into her face. Her head tilted backwards in answer, her body no longer giving much of a fight. Like a batter swinging at a ball, I swung my sword upwards to her neck. A clean slice! She was decapitated. Oh, but I was not finished. The QuickDraw system took itself over and slowed time for me. Whispers head danced so elegantly through the air. In slow motion, I was able to think about what I wanted the finished product to look like. My gun vanished from my left grip. But my right began to feel the strong lumber of the ten foot french pike. The pike took a couple of seconds to spawn as two separate black clouds shot forwards and backwards, leaving a wooden shaft and, eventually, a sharp tip at both edges. My left hand gripped closer to the tip for better aim. I use my slowed perception to line up the head and my weapon, before plunging the polearm into the neck and out of the temple of Whisper’s head.

There was just one last detail that was missing from my work of art. It was one thing to impale her head upon a pike, but it needed to be a true overkill. I wanted everyone to know my strength, and I wanted them to know their new gang leader was strong. I planted the Pike into the ground, making sure Whisper’s head did not fall off or sink to the bottom of the pole. Once the pike was firmly attached to the ground, I shot my right hand upwards. The handheld flamethrower was equipped and was ready to spit fire. My hand pulled the gas rings attached to the valve back, firing the flame upwards and igniting Whispers head. Her hair catching fire first, then the rest of her followed in suit. I released the gas rings back to their original place, and bid farewell to my weapon as the clouds arrived to take it away.

I could only stand back and marvel at my work. It was beautiful! I couldn’t believe the very thought was bouncing around my mind when just yesterday, Itchy’s death plagued me unbearable guilt. Perhaps it was because I thought there was a chance that I could befriend the residents here. Or that I wanted to be a new Anthony who only fought for peace. It turns out, these ponies are just as bad as humans! And since I only have one real talent (I doubt a half earned degree in theatre studies gets you far in this world), I would have to show the world that I am the best at what I do. Like Boudicca when she overthrew Roman control of Britain and burned Londinium to the ground, I too must overthrow Symphonian control and burn this facility to the ground.

A sharp pain stabbed in my lungs. It felt as if there was a jagged marble, rolling around in my chest. The pain went from slight ache, to horrendous pain in less than a second. My hand reached up for my chest, but stopped short of my bottom ribs. I was becoming immobilized. Perhaps Whisper did get the end she wanted. She wanted me to have a painful death. My body lurched to the side and plummeted to the ground. It became hard to breath. My entire body grew incredibly cold.

Damnit. This wasn't how I was to die! I expected to die from something much greater than that. Humanity does not deserve to go out like this! I must fight this! I must...oh, what’s the use. I can't do anything, I’m paralyzed. And whatever Whisper left in me is doing more damage than any amount of ESC gel can heal. Which is amazing, seeing how that stuff can be used to replicate entire vital organs if needed. And besides, this is how T.S. Elliot predicted humanity would end in his poem The Hollow Men. “Not with a bang, but a whimper.” I just wish I could do more than kill Whisper. I wish I left a bigger imprint on the world around me.

I guess I never realized this until now, but I wanted people to know my death. I want to be remembered. I want there to be a funeral with several morning friends. Or a celebration, marking an era of peace and happiness without my humanity plaguing the new world. I don’t care! I just don’t want to be another spec in the wind who was never remembered.

It didn't matter what I wanted now. I was dying! All I can do is focus on making my death easier. Using what was left of my mental capabilities, I activated my suits sound system and played Chopin’s Nocturne. I didn't have a preference at which part of Nocturne, so I decided to play it from the beginning. I closed my eyes and began to drift, allowing the reaper to carry me away to the great abyss of death.

*****

The sounds of Chopin were still fresh in my mind. Either I left it on loop, or heaven just has it playing on the speakers. My body was still stiff, and still in pained. But the sharp object in my chest was absent. With all of my strength I attempted to exit sleep paralysis and open my eyes. My eyelids were under heavy paralysis and almost refused to open. Though, through much strength, the eyelids began to lift, and I examined my surrounds. First was the ceiling lamp staring back at me. Next, was the cave like ceiling that reminded me of my incarceration. My neck lifted my hefty skull to examine the room. It was the prison infirmary. The eye charts on the wall, the cluttered office desk opposite to the exit, the series of hospital beds all lined up in columns. I was definitely not dead. While a relief at first, I was a little bummed that I didn't get to see what happens after we die.

I didn't notice at first, but Shady, Iron, and another pony appeared to be discussing something of importance by the doorway. I wonder if they were talking about me, or the fight today. Iron was the first to glance over and see that my head was risen and that I had awoken.

“He’s awake! Thank Celestia!” Iron shouted as he sprinted over to me. I was half expecting a gigantic hug from him. Alas, he knows better than to do that to someone with chest wounds. Shady, and the third pony followed suit. The other pony was a light brown unicorn with a black comb over. His cutie mark was of a scalpel and syringe crossed over each other.

“How are you feeling, kid?” Shady asked with caution.

“Like death gave me the most seductive strip tease.” I said with a pained lung.

“Here, let us get you up. Help drain the fluids from your lungs.” The third pony said with a slight Russian accent. Whatever ‘fluids’ he was talking about must’ve been the ESC trying to heal my the injury. His horn shined blood red for some odd reason. My torso was lifted upwards into a sitting up position.

“Err. Who is this?” I asked.

“That, is Dr. Quack.” Shady answered.

“DOCTOR KVECH!!! We've been over this before you grease covered snake!”

“Right, Dr. Kvech. I’d shake his hoof if I were you. He’s now your crews official medic.”

“At your service!” The light brown unicorn announced as he extended his hoof at me. I grabbed his hoof in response and shook it firmly.

“The pleasure is mine, doctor. But tell me, what was that pain in my chest?”

“Darkroot!”

“Darkroot?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Well then, let me explain. Whisper’s most powerful asset was her ability to spawn dead and decaying roots of trees with wood stronger than steel! She had this ability for years before she even arrived her. After a while, she started to tweak the formula to create new, eh, flavors of Darkroot. Then one she stabbed you with was a parasitic Darkroot that remained in your lungs. She knew it would kill you after she passed away, and she knew it would cause you the most pain! But what she didn't know was that you had the best doctor in Symphonia to help rip it out of your chest before it attached itself to your spine!” Dr. Kvetch explained.

“How did she know that she was going to die?”

“Well, you shot her in the horn! There was liquid magic falling from her horn! She would’ve been dead in minutes anyways!”

“Right, final question. How did you manage to operate with my suit on?”

“It was difficult, the cloth parts of the armor were thick and hard to cut. And after a few minutes, it would start to sew itself back up!”

“Smartfiber. It sews back up in case we are faced with a pathogen or get exposed to the elements.”

“Right. Anyway, I had Iron Will act as my assistant and continue to cut the fibers while I operated. Never have I ever seen such a primate so pink and hairless! When they told me you were human, I didn’t believe them. I still dont! But after witnessing your strange anatomy, I’ll just accept whatever you claim to be you strange boogeyman.”

“I see.”

“Plus, the strange liquid I found in your chest appeared to heal whatever (cough) mistakes (cough) that occured. It gave me more freedom to be aggressive against the root, making it easier to remove!”

“Alright. It’s good to hear that I’m not going to die. But Shady, what do you mean by ‘he’s my crews official doctor’? Do I have a crew now?”

Shady nodded with pride.”It’s true kid. You won the fight. It took some reassuring for them after the watched you pass out on the arena, but they agreed to join after some slight persuasion. You are now the crew leader of sixty seven very skilled hitponies.

Two Leaders and an Old Woman

I was moved to a different cell after I recovered in the medical wing last week. The guards explained that ponies with ‘power’ receive special treatment. I suppose the treatment was not only a reward for helping kill so many ponies, but as a tribute to keep me from organizing an accident for my least favorite guards. I could’ve ran the entire operation from my old cell, but it is nice not having hidden pegasi observe you at all hours of the night.

Along with the new cell, I was given the privilege to name and design the emblem for my newest army. The Fire Starters had a flaming arrow for their logo, and the hammer represented the Laborer’s hitponies. Zetito has branded his army with the infamous tribal mask with spears. And now, I am officially the head of The Symphonian Legion. The banner to which my crew bows before is a symbol of an solid black hand with a treble clef carved in the palm. It is with this symbol that I will lead my army to glory. The my crew banner was hung upon the wall above my desk.

My new cell was much nicer. Twelve feet in all three dimensions of solid concrete bricks. The bed was warmer, size was greater, and the accomodations were definitely an improvement from before. The guards were thoughtful enough to give me a writing desk, an actual toilet, and a large array of books from a large display if shelves above my bed. It’s not like I’d read any of them, seeing how their alphabet is virtually impossible to read. The bricks were much stronger than the hollowed out rock in G-block. At first, I thought it was to keep me in. But it turns out that its to keep other ponies out.

The amount of threats I received on a daily bases was astounding. Apparently, Maxwell didn’t enjoy it too much when a good chunk of his hitmen left his side to join my cause. But no matter, Shady had already devised a plan to take him and the other three bosses out of commission. Shady said he’d work inform me on the details later. Once they were gone, I would inherit most of their fighters. It’s obvious that the loyal amount of each crew would be upset at the loss of their bosses. Those loyalists will be taken out of the picture. After that, all that needs to be done is to convince the other thousand ponies to join my cause. I didn’t need all of them, I just need enough to give the guards a run for their money. Anyone who refuses my offer to join my army would be taken out of commision before they could potentially threaten my chances at escape.

Until we could kill Maxwell, we all had our own jobs. Iron was in charge of recruiting, seeing how he had experience as a spokesman anyway. Plus, giving him a large battleaxe to hold while he talks will eliminate the possibility of any hecklers embarrassing us. His job was much more complicated than one would think. Shady made it absolutely clear that we needed to be loyalists to the Symphonian crown. And convincing prisoners to abide the law and fight for anything but Anarchy is not an easy task. Neverless, Iron has proven himself as a fabricator of the highest quality bullshit in all the prison.

Shady was in charge of leading the hitmen. He will organize contracts and ensure that we have satisfactory service. My job is to keep winning in the arena. The more fighters I slay, the more powerful I look. Hence, I’ll have a larger chance of getting more ponies to fight for me. Since I don’t have any ponies who aren’t hitmen, I’ll have to get someone to organize the fighters and other crew, seeing how Shady will be busy handling the assassins.

The first domino has already fallen, and the rest are following in suit. It’s time to see if the rest will follow just as easy.

*****

It’s been two weeks since The Symphonian Legion was organized. My forces have been growing everyday. Iron has temporarily been assigned to organizing the crew and other fighters for my army. I have somewhere around two hundred and fifty enlisted for our cause. Iron managed to enlist ninety or so troops with his tales of glory of the Symphonian empire. The rest of them enlisted after viewing me in the arena. My followers are left idle until the days comes to free ourselves from these shackles.

The guards have been nothing but cooperative with our cause. The story we tell ‘em is that we’re trying to wipe out the other half of the prison population. They were convinced that a large prison wide gang war would dwindle the population and make it easier to control, so the guards allowed us to use special training rooms, a somewhat cramped assembly room, and they gave us better roaming agreements to certain parts of the facility, meaning we were free to wander the entire prison as long as we stayed out of the restricted areas. This would be impossible for the other gangs to achieve. I’m actually surprised myself that they allowed us so many freedoms! It turns out, Shady managed to sneak a few hitmen into the Wardens office for some ‘convincing’. Must’ve bashed his skull in too hard, because now he’s convinced that not helping us is an act of treason.

One of the Freedom’s they allowed us was the “private dining room”. A room close to the guards barracks for safety reasons. It was mainly for special conjugal visits for loved ones. For one large bribe, you too could enjoy a romantic dinner with a long incarcerated love one. This time, I would be renting out the private dining room for a business meeting. I await at the far end of the table. A bottle of carbonated grape juice left uncorked, and a plate on all four sides of the table, waiting for food to grace its presence. A candelabra sat in the center of the table, illuminating the rest of the room. The decor of the brick walls and the aura of flame produced a sex dungeony tone for the night. Maybe that’s what the visits really were; a nice meal followed by a nice shag.

The door opposite to me creaked open, with it came two ponies which then moved to adjacent to me. A third figure made his way through the doorway. It was none other than Maxwell Steedison. He cautiously made his way to the seat opposite of me. He was an old stallion. White, curly hair formed a dome around his head. His coat was a dusty gray color. The broad face of a normal horse was replaced by a more rounded and wrinkled figure. Everything about him just screamed elderly. The bodyguard left of me left his post and pulled the chair back for his boss. Once into position, the chair was moved back into place, with the old horse residing upon it. The bodyguard then returned to his position.

“Please, let your body guards sit.” I asked Maxwell.

“Why? So it’ll be easier to shoot them?” He responded with a feeble yet angry tone.

“We’re about to have a delicious meal that isn't green goop. And I’m trying to make amends for stealing your troops. Let the poor boys enjoy at least one meal before going back to that awful slop.” Maxwell shot me a bitter glare, knowing that I was up to no good. I didn’t want to lose him now.

“Please, I promise on my mother’s life that you and your guards will exit this room unharmed.” The great thing about my promise was that I couldn’t break it. My mother was already dead, so it’s not like the terms were that fantastic to agree with. Thankfully for me, he didn’t know that.

“Sit.” He ordered his guards.

“Thank you, sir.” I retrieved the guards glasses and uncorked the juice. I poured the refreshing, equine intoxicating beverage into each glass before pouring into Maxwells. I then proceeded to explain,”I want you to know who’s working for whom right now. My soldiers are all technically still yours. They never got any sort of clearance from you to be excused from your army.”

The guards began to raise the glasses to there mouths. “Wait! How do we know you didn’t poison the our drinks?” Maxwell asked with suspicion.”

“Oh my goodness. Where are my manners?” I responded.”Here, I’ll get this sorted for you. Toe Tapper? Get in here!” The door swung open, and from it came a small framed unicorn mare. She was caramel brown with short, gold hair. The fact that she survived this long in prison was a miracle. But she managed to survive for this long by joining the most stable gangs. I guess I prove myself to be a fine protector for the weak.

“Yes, Anthony sir?” She asked.

“Pour yourself a glass and drink. Here, use mine. I wont be using it anyways.” She obeyed, and proceeded to pour herself a large gulp of the beverage. She chugged it down as quickly as possible. I remember why she was locked up now. Her intoxicated rampages led her straight to the clink. Now, her addiction to the silly stuff serve a different purpose.

“All clear. Do you mind if I have another drink?” She asked.

“Later, now it’s time for business.” Toe Tapper nodded and backed to the corner of the room where she waited for further orders. The guards eagerly began to sip their grape juice. Poor fellas. They must miss the stuff more than I miss actual food.

“Now, as I was saying. I can’t command these men with a clear conscious. They serve under a different banner than my own.” I brown nosed as Maxwell drank his own. “Besides, I can’t lead a gang! I’m in way over my head here! It takes someone with real guts to order these men-...I mean stallions around. Which is why I’m giving your boys back to you. As well as any other ponies Iron may have recruited in the past few weeks.”

Maxwell’s eyebrow raised with interest. Maybe this plan would work after all. “And, if you would allow me. I wish to fight for you in the arena. I was meant to be a follower, not a leader! That’s for someone as experienced as you to handle.”

Maxwell placed his juice glass on the table and sighed. “When you killed my son, I felt almost nothing for his death. That bigmouthed idiot had it coming from the moment he learned his first swear. I acted like I was infuriated to make you fear, boy. But turns out, you’re a bigger failure than he was.” He said with a smirk. “That boy may have not been able to take over the family business, but you can’t even handle fifty good colts? Haha!” He chuckled. His guards joined him in laughter. “Boy, you must be one pathetic loser to screw something like that up!”

“Like I said, I’m a follower. Definitely not a leader.”

“You know your place, I’ll give you that. I’ll accept your offer. But only if you try not to show your idiocy on the battlefield.”

“I’ll do my best.” The door swung open and four well dressed ponies trotted in and placed bowls of fine Istalian pasta on each plate.” Looks like dinner is served. Toe Tipper? Would you be so kind as to taste each bowl? After that, you can have mine. I wont be needing it anyway.” Poor girl needs some meat on those lanky bones anyway. She left her post at her corner, and used her magic to lift the fork from my side and sample the meal from each bowl. It was a bowtie alfredo pasta with mushrooms, peas, and a hint of dijon. Unfortunately, this was my favorite meal and utterly torturous to watch. After she didn’t die, my bowl was levitated from the tabled and left hovering under her mouth as she wolfed down her meal.

“Smells amazing.” The left guard noted. “I haven’t had a meal like this in years!” The other guard added. “Settle down, boys. First, I propose a toast.” Maxwell interjected. He lifted his glass in the air. The other guards copied his action. “To the stupidity of those lower than us. They are the cement base for which to build a mighty empire with!” “Cheers!” The guards cheered.

The door swung open with one of my colts, asking,”Boss, there’s somepony who needs to see you now.”

“Well can it wait? I’m in the middle of something important!”

“Boss, it’s very urgent. You need to come and check this out.”

“Fine, if you’ll excuse me, Gentleme-...I mean, gentlecolts. You’ll have to enjoy your meal without me.”

“That’s fine by me, I won’t have to stare at your ugly mask anymore!” Maxwell joked. I proceeded to stand and exit the room. I stood in a brick hall with several of my men standing around me. They led me around the corner, just out of earshot from the dining room. I couldn’t in anymore.

“Fuck that guy! Jesus Christ is he an asshole.”

“Why do ya think we left him?” A random mare pointed out.

“I see what you mean! God, that sarcastic prick thinks he’s so clever. Let’s see how he feels in the next ten minutes.”

“Speaking of which, how are you going to do it?” One of the ponies asked.

“Hmm. Do you guys have a horse pun version of Al Capone?…”

The plan would be simple. The body guards that Maxwell had brought in were his two most trusted agents. Ever since an anonymous tip to the Equestrian Bureau of Investigation about his whereabouts led him to this hellhole, he decided he needed somepony to help him stay alive. Those ponies were Steel Plow and Hardy Brawl, the two butchest ponies in the prison. Maxwell promised to leave his entire fortune to the two stallions if they helped him survive prison for long enough to see daylight, then he’d leave his entire fortune to them. The burly colts agreed, and helped him build an empire of hit ponies to protect those who are weaker and terminate those who seek to destroy him.

With five years of beating ponies to death with their hooves, they now possess more influence over the rest of the Laborers than Maxwell himself. To be honest, all of them were sick of Maxwell. He had became too old for his own good. Darwinism should’ve taken his life the second he entered this prison. He merely cheated the reaper from his kill with the promise of money. Well, money can’t buy him out of this.

*****

Ten minutes had passed since I had left that smug bastard in the room with his last meal. If Shady had planned this well enough, then it would result in my army doubling in size. Now, it’s time for me to persuade the new leaders to join my side. I stand in front of the door to the dining room, with a Louisville slugger ready in my left hand. My right hand grips the door handle, twists it accordingly, and allows the door to swing open. The scene had turned from an organized business meeting to a drunken mess. Toe Tipper had found the ‘reserve’ juice bottle that I had brought and began to chug it like it was the last drink she’ll ever have. With a bottle in mouth, Steele kissing her forearm, and Hardy giving her a hoof massage; Toe found herself quite satisfied with how the evening turned out.

All of that was about to change. I took my first step in and threw the bat to my right hand. I decided to activate the QuickDraw to ensure that I delivered a proper strike. My left hand reunited with the bottom of the grip, with my right residing just above. I snuck into position, planted my feet firmly into the ground, and struck a proper batting stance.

It was at this moment that Steel glanced up from tenderly loving his new found mare to notice me. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It was too late. My body pulled backwards, then forwards as my bat swung through the air and into the back of Mr. Steedisons cranium. Chunks of skull and white matter exploded into the air along with a splatter of rouge. Bits of Maxwell had landed on the three lovebirds. QuickDraw disabled itself, allowing me to bask in the horrified reactions of his closest allies. Hardy turned around to see his former boss, brain dead on the dinner table. His natural reaction came with a large gasp and a jump backwards. Steel could only sit with his jaw on the floor and eyes wide open. The shock was more powerful than his will to defend his body. Both stallions would forever be scarred from the horrible event that took place.

Toe Tipper glanced up from the her intoxicated colt worship to view myself, painted red and bearing a bat.

“Neat!” She shouted as she returned to her Istallion juice bottle.

“Oh yeah! Right outta the park!” I shouted in victory. I felt it wasn’t far enough for me to just kill him. I gotta make a show out of this to frighten them even more. I raised the bat above my head and prepared for another strike.

“It’s going!” I announced as the bat crashed into the crater in Maxwell’s noggin. My bat quickly rose back into the air.

“Going!” Again with the bat creating an even wider crevice in his head.

“Fucking gone!” I rejoiced with one final bash into his head. The fine linen cloth covering the table had been stained red with his life juice. The plate below his face had shattered into several pieces. His face was covered in the sauce of his meal. The other dishes, half empty and now destined to spoil, had chunks of pony residing in it. I dropped the bat and allowed it to clink onto the floor before the black clouds came to take it back home. I pointed towards Steel.

“You,” Then to Hardy,” And you. You work for me now. From this point on, you two will be in charge of leading any one of my crew that isn’t a hitpony. Got it?”

“B-...but. B-but.” Hardy attempted to rebuttal.

“Out with it.” I replied. “Come on, you can’t be that shocked from this. You’ve lived here for five years and have probably seen worse stuff than this before!”

“B-but what about our inheritance?! That old wind bag was our ticket out of here!”

“Oh, really now?” I responded. Steel looked up from his thousand yard stare and his gaping mouth was replaced with a furious frown.

“Yes, you idiot!” Steel angrily answered. “We were going to bribe the warden with his fortune! We were going to buy our freedom! He wasn’t going to update our will until he was on his deathbed. And now, we get nothing!”

“Oh contraire. I think you’ll find that we made sure his will was updated to include you two boys.” The look of anger on both colts changed to looks of curiosity.

“Really?” Steel asked with doubt.

“The old colt may have not been present for the update, but his lawyer made an unscheduled visit after a few convincing letters persuaded him to edit his last wishes. And thankfully for us, my best guy knows how to forge like a professional. Congratulations boys, you can buy your freedom.”

“I don’t buy it.” Hardy stated. “Why do this for us? What’s the catch?”

“Well, that’s just it. When you buy your freedom, you’ll have nothing else to your names. I’ve checked with the wardens favorite guards. They claim that her minimum price is barely lower than this old man’s fortune. Approximately three million bits will go to her, and one thousand bits will be split between you two.” Steel and Hardy glanced at each other, then back to me. They were interested in what I was saying, but still defensive to truly hear my proposal.

I continued,”I assume you’ll spend the thousand on a good whore to share, and the other thousand on copious amounts of booze. Then what? You’ll be back at square one. Sure, even if you have friends or family on the outside, it still won’t be the life you want. You took up that old man’s proposal with a phoney promise of wealth. Well, allow me to make a counter proposal.”

“Go on.” Hardy permitted.

“Work for me. Serve under the banner of the Symphonian Legion as my two generals. Help me organize the rest of the laborers into my army and we can fight our way out of this hell hole. Your bits will be invested into arming our troops with supplies, weapons, and armor. But, will be payed back in triple. Both of you will posses four point five million bits each when this is all over. So? What do you say?”

Both of them looked at each other, giving the sternest looks to one another. It was like they were having a deep, complex conversation through their eyes alone. Then they both turned to me. Steel announced,”Alright. You have a deal. But the second you break this promise, bad things will happen to you and your army.”

“I’m sure of it. Glad to have you on board, gentlemen.”

“Gentlecolts.” Hardy corrected.

“Right. Gentlecolts. We’ll be in contact. Come on, Toe Tipper. We’ve got work to do.” I announced as I turned to the doorway and exited. Toe proceeded to pound the bottle, and stumble from her seat to the doorway. It felt good knowing I had amassed an army this large with ancient mafia tactics. It will feel even better with the other gangs eliminated from the prison.

***

I sit alone in the armory, getting ready for the fight against Zetito, leader of the Zebras. It’s been a week since I’ve forcefully merged The Laborers into my legion. There was little resistance during the takeover of their faction. They had fully recognised my potential as a leader, seeing how their last one was less than favorable.

My army was rapidly in strength. Enough to make the other two crime syndicates worried. With this paranoia plaguing the leaders of both groups, Shady concluded that the Zebras should be the next target.

The guard pony levitated the door and gave his trademark smirk, signaling me to enter the arena. I rose from the bench and walked into the tunnel. The light in front of me grew brighter with every step I took towards the arena. The sound of cheers from the audience above roared into the hall. This was it. This was the moment I stole the Zebras from Zetito.

I entered the arena to see the bulky Zebra, waiting patiently for me at the chalk line. While the attention did help my confidence, I passed on revving the crowds engines with the Wrestlemania style showboating that I used in previous matches. Instead, I calmly made my way towards my chalk starting point. I managed to get a good look at Zetito’s attire. The zebra covered himself in plates of iron armor, strong enough to block my swords and clubs but small enough to not hinder agility as much as a full suit of armor. A red and orange tribal skirt covered his haunches which made him look slightly larger than he actually was. There were several large feathers that were planted into a leather harness along Zetito’s spine. Each one was taken from a fallen pegasi that he defeated in battle. His helmet appeared to be a crown of tiger pelt with giant feline teeth accenting the top rim. Several feathers were placed in the inner rim of the crown to give it an intimidating headdress look. At least eight spears made of bronze and wood hung from his left, while a wooden shield hung from the right. A bandolier of different flasks containing glowing liquids was strapped tightly around his armor, reminding me of Itchy’s band of chemicals.

He was equipped to fight someone of my proportions, but honorable to accent his armor with designs of his home world. When I snatch the life from him, I better do so in an honorable fashion, lest I face the wrath of several hundred zebras for disgracing their culture.

We sat for several seconds before the familiar sound of a bell’s ding echoed through the arena. Instinctively, I spawned an iron buckler and short sword and stood in a defensive stance. My enemy stood on his hind legs and grabbed his shield and one of the spears in return. The shield was latched onto the bicep of his right hoof while his left hoof and arm wrapped around the shaft of the spear, much like an octopus's tentacle. He began to strafe to the left. I mirrored the action. Our eyes locked, the intensity of our gazes grew stronger with each step. I decided to act first with deceit. I activated my hologram system and launched the screamer program. In a blink of an eye, a shrieking skull appeared inches from his face and let out a horrible cry. The audience let out a collective gasp. Zetito continued his path, unphased by the skull.

Damn! He’s trained himself not to lose focus. With my hologram system rendered useless, I decided to move forward with my shield facing my enemy. At the slightest opening I give him, he will strike. Maybe I can trick him into attacking early. Maybe he will know it’s a bluff. I had just made it to the center of the arena when he decided to grab a vile of a green liquid and pour the contents onto the head of the spear. He spat the glass container onto the ground and proceeded to fling the spear at me. I brought me head below my shield.

*THUNK*

The spear plunged itself into my shield, just a few inches below my arm. The green glowing liquid had spread onto my shield, and began eating away the wood and metal. I threw my shield off of my arm for fear of it spreading to my suit. The melting shield flew across the arena. I looked back at my opponent to see him much closer and bearing a red glowing spear. I did not have enough time to react before he plunged the spear in between my shoulder plate and chest plate. A sharp pain shot into my chest as the blade was pushed downward into my rib cage. Zetito used this momentum to vault off of my body and land behind me. I quickly dropped my sword and reached to grab the spear. Grabbing the shaft as firmly as I could, I began to yank the spear free. A few violent tugs, and the spear was free. The suit began to send ESC gel to the wound, but something felt wrong. My vision was beginning to blur. I felt light headed and weak as I attempted to swing my blade around to strike. Instead, I moved my head to face Zetito who had his hoof in the air. His hoof came down and struck my face. I felt a loud crunch in my face as I fell to the ground. Bastard broke my nose. I could feel it throbbing as I laid on the dirt.

Zetito began shouting to the crowd,” Brothers and Sisters! This shant be a while. I will put this monster through our trial! He shall test his soul as we have tested ours, his fears will become real and be given great powers. Milk of the Hippogryph, a powerful substance. With this, his psyche will dance!”

He pulled a vial from his bandelier and began to drink. The vial was thrown to the ground as his eyes grew bright. Several eyes in the audience began to grow white as well. They were all Zebras. He looked back to me. It felt like he was peering into my very existence. He said,” Every Zebra goes through this test. To lay all their fears to rest. Most of our own do not pass, they lay still six feet under grass. Prove to me that you are able. Live up to your monstrous fable!”

His eyes grew brighter as a beam of raw energy shot into my eyes. The pain of a thousand suns burned into my corneas as I let out an painful shriek. I could still hear him talking. “We will see through your eyes, understand your pain. We don’t use this to mock. Only knowledge and understanding to gain.”

Such comforting words from someone trying to kill me. The pain grew much more powerful as my I began to fade out of consciousness. The last thing I heard was,”With our eye and your cry, do try and face the horrible lie or you… will… Die!”

The brightness faded to darkness. I was no longer in the arena. My body was sprawled out on whatever surface I was on. It was cold. Horribly cold. My suit would normally protect me from such temperatures. I forced my eyes open to reveal a cloudy sky. Snow was currently falling on my body. I forced my body to sit up in order to exam myself. My larger physique was missing. I was in the body of my younger self. If I had to guess, I would say I was in my fourteen year old body. I was wearing a button down and jeans, with fashionable sneakers to compliment. Certainly not winter attire, but it certainly made me look cooler.

I looked up from my body to see where I was…

Oh god…

Oh my god…

I was in my hometown of Loveland, lying dormant in the church parking lot near my grandmothers. I remember this place so well! I used to ride my bike down the hill on the other side of the church all the time! And behind me was the statue garden that I used to play in when I was younger. And next to me was my first crushes house. I used to go over there just to jump on her trampoline. But something was wrong with her house. The roof had caved in and the tree we planted together had fallen onto the neighbors house. I swung my head back around to examine the church. The stained glass had been smashed open, and the doors had fallen off the hinges. The walls of the church were covered in spray paint. I stood up and turned to view the sculpture garden. There were some new ones added onto the ones I remembered. But most of them had been vandalized. The entire neighborhood appeared to be vandalized. I started to walk towards the direction of my grandmothers house.

This was all apart of the zebras ploy. They were just trying to get to me. I won’t allow them to. I couldn’t help but shiver as I stepped onto the sidewalk. It wasn’t snowing hard. And it hadn’t been snowing for long according to the thin blanket of white fluff on the ground, but it still began freezing me to the core. I began to turn the corner onto my grandma’s street. So many memories lied dormant on this block. I continued to pass the next few houses before being able to see my Grandparents home. There was something written in spray paint on the front of their house. ‘ELDERLY INSIDE, FREE STUFF’. My heart skipped at what that could have meant. I knew that it was just my fears that lead me here, but I needed to know my grandparents fate. My shaky shuffle turned into a full sprint. These were the people that raised me while my parents were at work, I needed to know if they were alive or not. There was a gigantic chance that they weren’t, but my heart still held out that they were.

I got to the front door, which had been knocked down. There was a staircase immediately going up and down. I choose the one going up. Everything was gone. Everything. Pictures, urns, furniture, all gone. Some of the walls had been busted open just for the copper pipes. On the living room floor, I found charred remains. Someone was held down here and lit ablaze. Judging by the physique and the size, I’d guess it was my grandpa.

A tear fell from my eye as my hand met my face. I kept telling myself that it was just a dream. I knew that it was too. But to see him lying there, a Vietnam veteran that taught me to be strong when I was at my lowest, it...it was just too much.

Another thought grazed my mind. A thought so horrible that it caused me to freeze up. ‘Where’s Grandma?’ I promised Grandpa that I would be strong for him when I was younger. I began searching the house. Hoping that I’d find grandma somewhere. I don’t care if she was badly wounded or was about to die. I just needed to tell her that I loved her one last time. That I was sorry for missing her calls for all those years, or not visiting her. I didn’t want her to die in vain.

I checked every room upstairs before sprinting downstairs into the weightroom. My Grandfathers weights had been indeed been stolen. I ignored that and moved to the door on the left, the guest bedroom.

The beds were stolen, as well as the TV. The entire room reeked of death. That realization hit hard as I walked up to the large closet with folding doors. I placed one hand on the knob and pulled.

There she was. Short white hair, glasses, overweight physique, short stature. She appeared to be resting under a blanket she once sewed for me. Thank god they didn’t check the closet. I don’t think I could take anymore pain from this dream.

“Grandma?” I asked with hope in my heart. No response. My relieved smile turned into a worried frown. “Grandma? Wake up. I’m here. You’re safe now.” I said as I reach my hand out to her shoulder. I grabbed it tenderly before retracting it quickly. Her body was cold and stiff. I grabbed her again and began to shake her. Tears began welling in my eyes.

“Grandma, please don’t be dead. I’m sorry.” My hand moved from her shoulder to her head as I moved my head to hers. My skull touched hers, it had been at least a day since she passed. I began weeping uncontrollably. My tears began to stain her blanket. I wanted to tell her so many things. I wanted her to die alone and scarred. Not like this. “I’m sorry...I...I’m sorry th-that...I…wasn’t there…” I tried to explain in between sobs. I looked down from her head and saw she was holding a cross in her right hand. She was always such a religious woman. I hope with all my heart that there is a god and that he has let her into her domain.

A revolver was not too far in front of her. This must’ve been incase someone found her. I picked up the gun in front of her and examined it. There was only one chamber filled. It was for her. Maybe it was for me. I place the gun in my pocket and looked to the ceiling. I shouted,”I’ve seen enough! I get it! I’m afraid of not being there for my family! I already knew this! Wake me up!”

I waited for a few seconds before Zetito’s voice responded,”We mourn the death of your grandmother dear, but you must understand why you are still here. This is not a dream made by us or your mind racing fast, this is an actual event located in your past.” My heart froze. If what he said was true, then my grandmother actually did die with a heart plagued with fear and sadness. My mind was still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

“B-but how?! How does that work?! How do you know where to put me and when they died?!?” I shouted to the ceiling. Zetito replied,”Our potions are very powerful. We are able to view your entire world in full. Right now, your past self of fourteen years, is currently on a train while you are still in tears. We can see into every event unfolding in the past, so long as the memory of your past lasts. We know this might not make sense and that your heart is ill…” I glanced back over to the corpse of my grandmother.

“...but those are the rules of a Zebrian Memory Spill…”

I got back on my knees and crawled back to her. I grabbed her hand, and reached around for a hug. I loved her. I wanted her to say it back. The voice started back up again. “This is your chance now, one decision more. A decision to end all others before. Use her weapon to reunite with the departed. Or find the courage to stand on your own and finished what has been started.”

I noticed something under the blanket. It shined ever so slightly to the light from outside. I pulled off the blanket to reveal what it was. It looked like a snow globe. Under it was a small stack of papers, a pen, and a flashlight. I decided to get those first. I got up and moved to the window to see what they said. My heart began to race as I realised what they were. Final letters to loved ones. They were horribly scribbled seeing how she must’ve written them when the looting began. The first one was to my mother. The next was to my uncle. Then my cousins. And finally me. It was hard to understand her handwriting, but I eventually adapted to her bad penmanship the letter read:

Dear Anthony,

I don’t know if you’ll ever find this, but if you do then I want you to know this. You’ve made me so proud over the years. I always loved hearing you sing and will always remember and cherish each memory of you singing in the car. You are a singing angel and I love you so much. I miss all the times that we spent together. Remember the Beatles song I made you play on the guitar so we could sing it? I had so much fun with you. Both Grandpa and I miss you and we’ll always love you. Remember that. I’ll see you again someday in Heaven. And we’ll sing together then.

With Love,
Ethel Calhoun, Grandma

P.S. Don’t forget your Guardian Angel. I kept it safe from them so it can watch over you. Alway remember that your Guardian Angel is up there keeping you safe.

I was crying even harder now. I folded the letter and placed it in my pocket and made my way back to my Grandmother’s corpse. I lifted the blanket off and found the Guardian angel she was talking about. It was the Snowglobe she bought when I was born. The base was a heavenly porcelain cloud with building blocks, teddy bears, and toy trains jammed in it. But inside the ball was an angel with beautiful brown hair and large angel and majestic angel wings. She had long blue and indigo robes and the most beautiful smile. She was holding something in the air; a happy, newborn baby. It was me, or it was a representation of me. The tears landed on the glass as I examined it closer. I placed the snow globe on the ground. I crawled over to my Grandma and wrapped the blanket back around her. I kissed her on the head and hugged her tight,” I love you too, Grandma. I’ll always remember you.” I grabbed the snow globe and then stood up facing the ceiling.

“I’m ready to end this…” I said to the ceiling.