In a revolution, as in a novel, the most difficult part to invent is the end. -Alexis de Tocqueville.

A lone figure sat at his desk in the basement of a small house in Canterlot. The basement was small and the only light in the room came from the candle on his desk and the shine of the flames outside. The basement smelled like the food it had stored not such a long time ago. The man took a tissue out of the pocket of his raincoat and held it in front of his mouth before he started coughing. Blood soaked the previously white tissue upon it’s removal. The man averted his glance from the tissue and looked at the hourglass on his desk, the sand slowly but surely falling down to the bottom.

He couldn’t help but recognise the old cliché that the sand represented his life. Oh, the despair it brought him to see it flow so carelessly to the bottom, never to be returned to the top. Such a simple thing as this sand was capable of hypnotizing him and he wanted to keep looking, but he realized his time was running short and he still had so much work.

Once again he contemplated his mutated body. The altered form of his once normal human body still managed to bring him more pain, anger and despair than anything else, yet without it he wouldn’t have had the power or motivation to initiate, and now complete, his grand plan.

His right arm was subject to perhaps the most notable mutation: where his right hand once was, a grotesque claw now hung. His fingers had become claws nearly 16 inches in length with the exception of his thumb which retained a (mostly) normal size. Each also bore a bizarre metallic sheen quite unlike any natural appendage. Instead of skin, he now bore shimmering reptilian scales on the length of the arm.

Both of his arms had lengthened to the point that if his arms hung loosely next to his body, his palms would line up with his knees. The muscles and sinew that now stood out from his arms, shoulders and back only served to augment his surreal appearance.

His left hand, however, had undergone a less dramatic mutation in comparison to his right, although it was no less disturbing. Instead of changing into a true claw, it instead became an elongated, grotesque mockery of a normal human hand. Where the typical human hand ends on a fleshy pad covered only partially by a blunt nail, his ended on razor sharp nails reminiscent of those found on a tiger claw.

His legs, just like his arms were a lot more muscular, his feet slightly broader so they were able to support the additional weight. He could not completely straighten his legs, instead having them locked in an angle of nearly 45°. The same could be said of his ankles.

His upper body actually looked relatively typical. It simply looked like the torso of an exceptionally well-toned human.

His face, however, was a different story. He forced himself to not look in mirrors or at his reflection in water because of this most apparent of aberrations. First his teeth: the changes were minor in those of his lower jaw, although they were somewhat sharper and stronger than those of a normal human. His upper jaw on the other hand, while the molars and premolars retained their normal appearance, now sported frightfully overgrown canines capable of tearing through even the most durable flesh. These paired with his increased jaw strength allowed him to inflict truly horrific injury upon an opponent.

The left side of his head and a part of his shoulder were badly burnt. The damage had done no serious damage to his eye or ear, but it had given his left eye a more split appearance. The burns prevented his hair from re-growing, although it looked far worse than it ought to because it had not been treated correctly for a while after he had gotten burnt.

The alicorns known as Celestia and Luna had done this to him. They forcefully tried to change him into “one of their little ponies” (dear lord, did those words make him want to vomit). They said it was to give him a better life. Their true intention was to prevent him from upsetting the status quo that had benefited them so well throughout the years.

The man knew he had been turned into an abomination. He was stuck here in a world that had been both directly and indirectly controlled by ponies. The magical energies possessed by this world hung in the air like an invisible smog and behaved like slow-acting radiation poisoning in the aftermath of a nuclear explosion, slowly eroding his health and sapping his strength.

It was no help that he had been the foremost enemy of the state for quite a while now.

Was it such a crime to rather die as a human than to live as a pony? The princesses certainly thought so, promoting them to try to change him forcefully, but their little plan did not work as expected. No, their foul magic met with a much purer kind of magic: the magic of Nature. They tried perform their noxious deeds in a place called the Everfree Forest, but the magic clashed with the ambient power of the forest, changing him into what he was now. It had given him more chance to enact his vengeance, and for that he was, ironically, grateful.

He watched the joyful flames through the small window of the basement and thought about everything he had gone through. It had been quite an adventure. It was such a shame that the end was drawing near, but he had the two alicorn princesses he was after (and the other two alicorns as a nice bonus) right within his grasp. He had them cornered like the scummy rats they were. His army had already taken control of the city and were preparing for the final push into the castle.

It was a shame, really. He had brought the authoritarian hierarchy of Equestria down into flames, but he would not see what would be built out of the ashes of his revolution. No, he would die with the flames, be it by the princesses or by the cancer this world’s magic had given him.

The man finally stood up and marched towards the exit. The time had come to join his friends and his troops in the final assault. When he exited the little house he was met by the smell of ash and the heat of fire. Canterlot, the capital of Equestrian, was aflame. The castle was furiously besieged by his ores and badly damaged from the volleys of the catapults and cannons. The streets were covered in debris and bodies both of his own forces and of the Equestrian military lay in pools of their own blood.

“Sir, the others require your presence in the siege camp.” He heard a voice say, making him turn around to see a male gryphon saluting.

“At ease, soldier.”

The gryphon immediately stopped saluting.

“Commander, are you alright?” the gryphon asked, concern in his voice as he saw his commander’s debilitated appearance.

“I am *cough* fine *cough* *cough* No reason to *cough* worry. *cough*”

That was all he managed to say before he broke out in a full scale fit of coughing, holding a tissue in front of his mouth.

“Commander please calm down!” the gryphon said, distress audible in his voice as he hurried over to support his leader. He led the man to a nearby bench. By the time they arrived, he had stopped coughing, the white tissue once again filled with blood.

“You know private, I never caught your name.”

“Oh! It’s Windmaster! Private Jorn Windmaster sir!” the gryphon quickly told his leader.

“Well Jorn, when I first arrived here in this world I was called the Outsider, but you may call me Karl. Karl Kempf. In these past few days, I have realized something: I am on the brink of death and no one knows my story. My whole story. Would you like to hear it?” Karl asked as he tried to regain his breath.

Jorn was stunned. The Great Leader, the one who brought an end to the era in which ponies ruled with complete dominance, sat before him now, weak and dying. Here asking for a lowly private to listen to the story of his life!

“Yes, sir! I would be honoured to hear your story!”

Karl nodded.

“Very well! Prepare to hear the complete tale: who I was before I came to this world, how I got this form, how I started a revolution and how I brought the tyrants of this land down into flames. Everyone has a spark inside them. Let me tell you how my spark became an inferno.”

Author's Note

Hello everybody!

If you enjoyed the story please take a bit of your time to leave some support behind, and I will be sure to get you guys some more.

Author: TheShadowOfZama
Editor: Vlasislas32