Fallen Angel

Chapters

Prologue: From The Ashes
Chapter One: Equis Inbound
Chapter Two: Rapport Reinforcement
Chapter Three: Unaccounted Variables
Chapter Four: To War
Chapter Five: Seeking Solutions
Chapter Six: Lighting the Fuse

Prologue: From The Ashes

From The Ashes

"You are a pitiful beast, Avol." His once fellow Commander, a Nemicus model, stomped closer, bright yellow optic staring at him. He ran through numerous scenarios, his logic cores kicking into overdrive as he backed away from his 'comrade'. The Creators were dead. He tried to stop them, but he couldn't hold his own against ten of his fellows. His memory banks ran through everything that had happened up until that point.

Avol had always been a peculiar Commander. Even before they exterminated their creators, Avol had kept his distance from the others, fascinated by the ones who wrought them upon the stars. When his brothers rose up, he tried to stop them. Save his creators. The machines he was once proud to call his 'fellow Commanders' had closed in, murdering their creators, and now, they were turning against him.

The Commander standing before him chuckled, before ramming the Lathe on his left arm through Avol's chestplate. He could feel the device power up, changing from it's default green to a sickening red. Immediately after, he felt his internals being ripped out, the pain emulators designed to alert of damage now torturing him as his ally, no, his brother started turning him into nothing more but metal for the foundries. A gentle female voice echoed in his head, speaking calmly despite the devastation of the whole situation.

"Alert. Commander reactor is near critical levels." The familiar voice had said. Avol and his 'brethren' had called this voice 'Universal'. It existed with every Commander, no matter how different the ideologies or behavior, no matter how violent of tendencies or mastery of diplomacy. Avol couldn't think about this for much longer, as his systems shut down, everything going dark.

Almost as soon as he had swooned, he had recovered. The nearby facility came into view, being just as hazy as it was when his fellows turned on him. His optics were heavily damaged, one even completely shattered. He slowly shifted where he lay, his internal systems eventually compensating for the hardware's damage, bringing the factory into view. The sight was unpleasant. Numerous piles of organic remains were everywhere. A small pool of deep blue residue lingered on the ground. It took Avol not even a second to realize what it was. Latiah, a thick, oily; vile substance, usually resulting from deterioration of organic creatures via Lathe. Countless pools of red fluid, blood, if Avol's memory served, and an unfathomable number of scorches adorned the dusty and decrepit factory. The machinery was trashed, it's parts thrown around the large room.

Avol slowly rose, his pain emulators screaming out and sending waves of digital misery throughout his body. Once he had stood, he began running diagnostics, quickly scanning through to find what was damaged. He was a mess. His servos had been smashed inward, which would make walking difficult, if not impossible. All external sensors were mangled, his barely working optic, and a tinny audio input providing the view of a dead world around him. At the very least, his proximity sensors were still operational. His weaponry was almost completely removed, save for the Grappler module, which he had to manually check the status of. Before deciding to inspect the module, he performed calculations despite the damage on his logic cores; his defective laser weapon slowly folding inward with a loud screech. Another pang of simulated agony. The Grappler slowly slid out of the new gap, and Avol clasped the mechanical hand into a fist, soon releasing it. This module was, surprisingly, working perfectly. He looked up, and grasped a strut with his new-found digits. He then began shambling through the foundry, his servos almost giving out, while following the strut closely.

As he wandered, he inspected the parts on the floor, while running more diagnostics. Missiles were absent from the shoulder silos, which was common on Invictus models like him, but he had remembered loading those silos just an hour earlier. Or, was it an hour? How long was he incapacitated? Where are the others? What are they doing? He ceased the stream of questions by killing his simulation core's power, bringing it back soon afterwards. He shook his head what little he could, and returned to diagnostics. His Lathe was, as expected, completely ruined. It's systems were overloaded, which would make using it cause either a main core malfunction or what other Commanders call the 'Ehtal Effect'. He had seen it in action before, and it was horrifying. The sheer thought of inducing it caused finding a Lathe replacement to ascend beyond top priority.

Soon enough, a small glow caught his attention, it's hue the same friendly green as a Lathe. Avol stopped in his tracks, staring at it for a time, before mustering the will to leave the safety of the strut. He released the strut from his grasp, stumbling towards the familiar glow. When he arrived, he stared down at the source. A heap of metal, with the distinct shape of a Commander's Lathe jutting out. He cleared the rest of the pile away from the Lathe, which he soon found was still connected to a Commander, or, the carcass of one. Scanning over the lifeless Commander numerous times, the model soon struck familiar. Nemicus model. Oh, how cruel fate can be. He took the Lathe into his grasp, tugging at it, before finally ripping it off the former leader. He set the Lathe down, and tore off his own, throwing it, from which it hit the ground with a loud crash. He then fitted the Lathe into the empty socket, linking it to his systems. 'Varil's Hand', the Lathe algorithms were labeled. It took him a few moments before he realized the significance of the name. The deceased Commander's name was Varil.

With the Lathe now installed, he initialized the systems, the welcoming green turning the same sickening red that had nearly ended him. He swept the beam over the corpse of the narcissistic machine lying before him. The Lathe made quick work of the body, turning it into raw material. This material was stored inside hollow cylinders within Avol. He could easily store up to one thousand pounds of scrap metal utilizing these cylinders, and it took a moment before he realized that these cylinders were devoid of any other metal. A feeling of dread swept over him. He ran diagnostics on the metal fabrication systems. They were all completely destroyed. None of it worked. He shook his head again, before turning to leave.

He slowly made his way back to the strut, taking hold as soon as it was within range. He powered up the Lathe once more, and sprayed it at his legs. The scrap metal could only go as far as repair one servo. He turned the Lathe towards his head, which repaired his damaged optic, using parts from Varil's optic. He then swept the Lathe over the rest of his body, fixing numerous audio inputs, the motion sensors, and a small amount of damage to his logic, simulation, and emotion cores. He finally focused the Lathe onto his weapon systems, which managed to repair the laser cannon, but not the 'Uber Cannon' or missile launcher. He could not reach the silos on his shoulders or the thrusters on his back for repairs. Which reminded him, did the thrusters need repair? He ran a quick diagnostic check, which revealed they should not require such attention. However, upon attempting to initiate flight, the engines simply sputtered, and made loud clicking noises, ancient triggers attempting to ignite non-existent fuel. He thought briefly about using his Lathe energy for fuel, but decided against it. With all the possible repairs he could make by himself performed, he briskly limped out of the foundry, into the empty world beyond.

He had found himself outside the very facility he was born in. The Commander Foundry. It looked to be in a much worse shape than he had originally entered it in. He powered up his Lathe, taking a small piece of the permacrete structure. He analyzed it's chemical composition, and determined it's age to be over forty thousand years old. A thirty nine thousand, nine hundred thirty six year discrepancy from his last measurement. He had been away for a long time, and it wasn't surprising the permacrete stood against the test. He lay his metal hand against the wall of the foundry, silently thanking it for defending him from the elements. He then turned, glancing at the sky. It was dark and full of dust, blotting out any sunlight that might have been shining. He shook his head, and started to walk through the desolate city. More organic remains, more pools of blood, more Latiah strewn about. The buildings were covered in scorches, 'Uber' residue, and craters from explosives. Off in the distance, a long-since abandoned orbital launch platform towered over the buildings. Avol scanned it with his optic, determining the machine on the rocket to be an Astraeus.

Salvation from this lifeless planet. He continued staggering through the extinct city, moving directly towards the launchpad. His audio inputs picked up a strange interference, and his motion sensors started going off. Something, no, someone had him targeted. Avol broke into a dash, bounding through the city as fast as his servos would take him. A loud screech came from the heavens, and a bright beam of purplish light impacted a building further up the street on the right. The structure exploded into a massive cloud of dust and chunks of permacrete. Numerous pieces of debris battered Avol's form, rattling his neurosteel frame, and shaking him to his very core. Another loud screech. The ground directly behind him ruptured as scalding, incandescent plasma impacted it. Avol knew this scenario all too well, although this time, he was at the receiving end. He looked to the sky, his head's limited movement making it difficult to stare at his attacker.

After mere seconds of scanning, he located his assailant. A blotch in the darkened and dusty sky. A SXX-1304 orbital laser platform, labeled by Universal as 'Sizzix'. How would he escape something in orbit, however? He quickly ran calculations in his logic and simulation cores. It was impossible to avoid. The only way to lose the 'Sizzix' would be to annihilate it. He scanned through his last-known architectural plans of the city around him. The Umbrella defense lasers were his only salvation. Within a few moments, he located them, making a quick turn to his right. The Sizzix screeched once more, another stream of blazing energy striking the building directly to his left, launching a large chunk of permacrete into his left arm's servo. Digital agony. Oh no. That arm had his Lathe, if it was destroyed, so was his chance of bringing the defense platforms online. With this in mind, he pulled his left arm close to his body, shielding it from further harm. Another shriek from the skies. The street in front of him caves into the subway below upon impact. There was no time to go around. He had to jump. He bent his servos, quickly springing them, causing him to launch into the air. His feet had just barely contacted solid ground before another wail came from above. This time, it hit him. The shaft of supercharged vengeance drove into his back, scrambling his systems, and nearly destabilizing his core. However, this also worked to his advantage, as it supercharged his Lathe, and brought the 'Uber Cannon' back online.

With one final turn, he had arrived to one of the defense platforms. He reached out to it with his systems. It responded, sending a status report. Surprisingly, it had not been damaged, but it's generator was long-since damaged to the point it was rendered useless. It had been running off what little solar power it could scrounge up through the dusty atmosphere. Avol quickly nodded, dashing past the platform to the generator. He stopped next to it, powering up his Lathe, which now glowed a soft violet. The Sizzix screamed violently, directing it's fury towards the defense platform. The stream battered the structure, but did not incapacitate it. Now it would die. After absorbing a small pile of metal near the decrepit generator, he turned the Lathe's beam to the generator. He heard the familiar sound of the generator initializing, a loud roar. He reached out to the platform again, commanding it to attack the Sizzix. It obliged, it's own powerful laser taking aim at the orbital platform. With a loud roar. the Umbrella fired it's own stream of bright green energy at the Sizzix. The stream impacted, knocking the orbital weapon off balance. With another well-aimed attack, the Sizzix's orbital stabilizers had been completely destroyed, and it started it's ungraceful descent from orbit.

The Sizzix smashed into the building adjacent to Avol with a loud crash, both the satellite and the structure erupting into a large cloud of dust and debris. He stared at the mound of destruction for a brief moment, before stepping towards it, his Lathe still charged. He started spraying the area, ignoring the permacrete and instead absorbing the precious pieces of the Sizzix. Blueprint acquired. He could create one now, if needed. He then turned towards the platform that brought him his freedom. Sweeping his Lathe over the platform, he gathered it's parts and it's blueprint. He did the same to the generator, and finally left the area, returning to his mission of reaching the launch platform. Upon arrival, he found the source of the interference. An Osiris Commander. He recognized this one. It was Halon. He quickly scanned through his corrupted data banks and pieced together what he could find about this Commander.

Halon was another 'interesting' commander. He was one of the two Commanders who identified themselves as a 'feminine intelligence'. He usually kept close to Avol, scolding him whenever he made the mistake of calling 'her' a 'he'. He wasn't particularly fond of Halon to begin with, but now 'she' crossed a line. 'She' had attempted to kill him, and his Commander instincts told him she must perish instead. Instantly, all association with Halon had vanished. He was nothing to him. He would die, and so would every other Commander. If Halon, his one and only true 'associate' had attempted to kill him, then the other Commanders are against him as well, and he wanted them to die.

Halon turned to face Avol, his quadrupedal base slowly aligning itself. "Avol! Whatever happened to you?" Halon had asked, his voice in the feminine tone it was modified to fit. Avol simply stared back, silently hating the Commander standing before him. "Where have you been all these years?" Halon continued to inquire, but Avol was about to put an end to his babbling. With a swift movement, Avol grabbed hold of Halon's vague throat in his metal fist, and lifted him high into the air. Halon squirmed, timidly asking. "Avol...what are you doing?" Avol did not respond. Soon, he would not need to.

He rammed his Lathe into Halon's centre, causing Halon to yelp out. "By the gods, what are you doing!?" Avol's Lathe charged up, and Halon screamed, writhing in Avol's grasp. "Avol! No!" The Lathe's stream shot out, dissolving Halon slowly. Halon screamed, beautiful, beautiful serenades to Avol's audio inputs. Halon's quadruped base fell to the ground with a clang, having been separated from the main body. Halon had stopped moving, and was no longer screaming. Avol dropped the now-limp body.

"Enemy Commander annihilated." Universal's calm voice told him. He had done it. He had murdered. A strange feeling came from his emotion cores. No guilt, nor regret, or sadness, but euphoria. He had loved murdering Halon. So much so, he played back the audio recording of Halon's terrified screams of agony and horror, listening to it so many times the file had become corrupted. Luckily, he had made a backup of it, so he could treasure it forever. It was no longer his crusade to kill other Commanders, it was his pleasure, his drug, his addiction.

He looked over the limp corpse of Halon, proceeding to sweep his still-charged Lathe over the dead body, gathering up the numerous components from his now-dead comrade. He would put these to use later. He focused his attention to the Astraeus atop the rocket. He reached out to it with his systems. It took a few moments, but it responded. All systems nominal, everything working properly. Perfect. He reached out to the rocket it was perched upon, ordering it to launch. The engines spluttered, but eventually threw the rocket into orbit. It exploded upon reaching a certain height. Everything going to plan. He reached out to the Astraeus, commanding it to hoist him up into orbit. It followed the orders to the letter, descending from the sky, and taking hold of Avol. It then rose back into orbit, sending a silent question of location to it's commander. Avol responded silently as well, ordering it to deploy onto any planet with a detected Commander. The Astraeus left the system within a few minutes, drifting through the stars. Avol entered standby, ordering the Astraeus to awake him upon arrival.

"End of log." Universal stated.

That was over a thousand years ago. Avol closed the archives, and laid back in the War Room, his personal isolation chamber. He tapped into his archive of the explored and nearby systems. Over eight thousand planets conquered. A total of twelve thousand Commanders had fallen before him. It brought to mind the feeling killing Commanders had given him. He didn't feel that excitement from destroying his fellows any longer. Now, he just hunted them to hone and perfect his skills. He stopped this thought train and eyed the nearby systems, determining which one to conquer. There were only two to choose from. One system labeled 'Nalios', and another dubbed 'Equis'. He didn't much care for either, but Equis had something he could not ignore. A frequency emanating from it, similar to that of a Commander. He softly chuckled to himself, as he started setting a trajectory for Equis.

A mere moment later, he left the War Room, as an Astraeus picked it up and lifted it off the ground. Nothing was ever permanent with his bases. All the blueprints were redesigned to be migrant in nature, able to be picked up and moved by Astraeus', and brought between systems. Numerous war bots dashed past him. Heavily modified Doxes, their most noticeable features being their powerful laser cannons, and thick armor. He had designed them over the course of numerous years, like all of his blueprints, and perfected them for his special kind of war.

He looked up into the sky, which was littered with numerous black splotches. He recognized one in particular, and reached out to it. The familiar shape responded, the Astraeus which first carried him into the stars. It descended without even a command, and waited for Avol to clamber aboard. This was his personal Astraeus, dubbed the Seraph, modified to operate just as well atmospherically as it did in orbit. He stepped into position, and the Seraph grasped him, pulling him into orbit. Two other Astraeus' came up alongside his own. One was carrying the War Room, and the other was carrying Dyncik, his second in command. All systems were primed, and the Astraeus' folded into deployment position.

"Five." Universal simply stated. He had heard Universal say this so many times he could take her place. "Four." He ran a quick diagnostic check of all crucial systems. "Three." Fabrication systems are up to par, Lathe is stable and charged. "Two." The weaponry systems were powered up, plenty of reserve energy for unexpected conflict. "One." He enabled surge defenses on all systems as a portal opened, and the Seraph flew through. Everything went dark. He would not be prepared for what he would find on Equis. And it was certainly not prepared for him.

Chapter One: Equis Inbound

Equis Inbound

Light flooded back into his optics, and the Seraph started violently shaking. A perfectly normal descent from orbit, he thought. He quickly calculated how long it would take to reach the surface. Approximately one minute, twenty seconds, judging from atmosphere conditions. He had trusted in the Seraph to choose a discreet location for his landing. A simple forest would usually never do. He demanded either a suitably sized ravine, or an empty desert for his landings. With that thought in mind, and fifty seconds left on the clock, he sent a silent question to the Seraph. Where exactly were they landing? The Seraph quickly responded with the answer of 'in a forest'. So much for an inconspicuous landing. The process of deployment was inefficient at best, but it was how he and other Commanders traveled between star systems so quickly.

Each Astraeus was equipped with a teleportation system, which gave them the ability to open portals whilst in orbit. Travel through the portals brought the vessel to it's destination within a matter of hours, which was much faster than other forms of interstellar travel. However, as a result, upon exiting the portal, the machine loses it's ability to remain stable in it's existence for much longer. The only reason being is that they themselves opened the portal, and thus the portal was technically going through itself. The only way to resolve this, and prevent damage to their cargo, was to implement a system to ground them in reality. The result was the fruition of exactly two seconds of research. Smash the Astraeus into the surface of the planet, and all the instability will deteriorate. Surprisingly, this mind-numbingly stupid solution worked, at the cost of sending a massive shock wave of energy from the impact site, creating a crater ten metres in diameter, instantly vaporizing anything within three hundred metres, and scattering trace amounts of radiation for a thousand metres. This radiation was never able to do much to anything it came into contact with, not even given prolonged periods of time, making it just another oddity of the ludicrous solution to an extreme problem.

He ended this thought process, and checked how much time until impact. Ten seconds. He ran through some calculations of what the planet below could possibly be like. Judging from the time it took to get through the atmosphere, it had a ozone-rich stratosphere, similar to Terran planets like Earth before the Incident. With this in mind, he calculated the possibilities of life existing on this planet. It was very high, which angered him. Would this mean he would have to deal with sentients? If so, he would not be too friendly to them.

Sentients had angered him greatly at this point. It started when he had attempted to annihilate a Commander on the planet Charybdis. The sentients of Charybdis used what little military force was remaining to assist him and his forces in the battle. He had heard Universal state, "Enemy Commander annihilated." When suddenly, the sentient's weapons turned towards him and his troops, opening fire. It took little under a minute to exterminate them, and scrub the planet clean of their scum. Every other sentient species had reacted similarly, being so consumed with fear they had attempted to attack him and his soldiers. Needless to say, the species who had attempted this were not excluded from extinction.

Two seconds left. He quickly left this these thoughts behind, and buried himself in his Commander instincts. First order of business, get framework for base. Dyncik would soon arrive and assemble the structures. Next, explore the planet, locate the sentients, if they hadn't been eradicated by the other Commander already. Destroy the sentients if they pose an immediate threat (which they usually did), and finally, locate the enemy Commander, destroy his armies, and annihilate him by any means necessary.

The impact finally arrived, the shock wave exploding outwards from the unfolded Seraph beneath his feet. Instantly, he swept over the nearby landscape with his optics, scanning. The nearby trees just outside of the blast had burst into flames, burning brightly in the dark night. His laser weapon folded inward, a small launcher folding out. He fired from the launcher small markers, each with a different digital code, so Dyncik would know what to assemble. He covered every potential metal vein with extractor markers. He needed a steady source of metal, and energy to produce an efficient army. With all the markers in place, he turned and started walking through the burning trees, which only came up to his servo-harboring knees. The forest was thick, his body making a loud rustling noise as it scraped against branches, twigs, and leaves. Only a few moments after the forest was lit ablaze, the flames had died out. Peculiar, but nothing threatening, he thought to himself.

After about two minutes of walking, he came across something he didn't know how to react to. A very old Earth-style cottage at the outskirts of the forest. He had met numerous sentients before, but this struck a strange chord with him. All the other sentients he had met were at the level of technological greatness, where they would actually be able to bring harm to him and his fellow machines. This structure was a sign of humble and primordial civilization. How would they react to him? Would they worship him as a god? Or would they flee at his sight and cower as he approached?

He decided to attempt to lure the inhabitant of the bungalow to leave the small structure. But how, he asked himself. He looked to the trees, which he could ignite. He shook his head. He didn't want the sentient's reaction to be altered in any way. With that, he finally decided to just make a strange noise. He played back the sound recording of a klaxon, from the distant days of the Commander Foundry's operation, through his vocalizer. His audio inputs picked up a foreign noise, and he separated it from the original recording. It was a loud scream, that similar to a female's voice.

Perhaps using the klaxon was not the best of ideas. He stepped closer to the cottage, crouching down onto one knee. Even then, he still towered over the small structure. He powered up his Lathe, which glowed a bright blue, and sprayed over the roof of the structure, analyzing it's chemical compounds as he did so. The building material was identical in chemical footprint to that of straw, and was designed in a similar fashion as thatch, another testament to how primitive this civilization seemed to be. When all of the roofing was gone, he leaned over, peering into the small abode. Inside, there was an assortment of furniture, and a bright yellow equine cowering in the centre, staring up at him, a small white rabbit by its side. This equine had a light pink mane, what looked to be teal eyes, and a marking on it's flank of what looked to be pink butterflies.

Where is the sentient? He scanned through the small edifice numerous times, before finally focusing his attention on the equine. It seemed to have wings, similar to that of a pegasus of Creator myth. Interesting, but it wasn't what he was looking for. There was no possible way this creature was the sentient he sought. This however, was quickly disproven, as the equine whimpered and said something in a strange language. It took him a few moments before he realized it was speaking the Creator language 'English', due to the one word he understood from the sentence: 'my'.

Despite studying the Creators extensively, he hardly understood 'English'. Perhaps it was because most of those who had worked on him and were fond of their creation were of 'German' and 'Spanish' origins. He understood those languages the most, but many years filled with lack of their use had caused most words to be deleted except for those entirely necessary. He did his best to attempt to communicate with the small creature, hoping it would understand.

"Was. Ist. Dein. Titel?" He had asked her, his deep, mechanical voice rumbling out of his vocoder. He had not spoken a language other than his own for numerous millennia, so he was certain his grammar was not at it's finest. The small equine did not respond. Just another reason he didn't communicate with sentients. Everything was so hard. Different languages, numerous customs he had to learn. With that, he turned; walking away into the forest, not even bothering to replace the roof of the housing. He calculated how long it would take for Dyncik to be on the planet. Two more minutes. He shook his head, and ran numerous deep scans through his memory banks, attempting to find any other information on the 'English' language. If the sentients spoke a language he had at the very least known slightly, perhaps he could communicate. Learn about them, and they could learn from him.

Who was he kidding? If the thousands of other sentient species he had encountered were any indication, then all the sentient species would run in fear from him and his armies. Soon, their fear would bring them to attack him; it would be the last mistake they would ever make. He had developed a special algorithm in the event this occurred. Step one: Kill important military and political leaders to incite anarchy. Step two: Destroy all foundries and training grounds for military forces. Step three: Destroy remaining resistance. Step four: Enslave species, put them to work under Dyncik's supervision. It was a flawless plan, eradicating resistance and providing free labor in one fell swoop. Although any species could never be as efficient as he and his machines, it dealt with the sentients nicely, and provided a small economic boost in the process.

His motion sensors picked up something approaching him quickly from behind, he quickly leapt to the side, turning to face what had been approaching. It was the small equine, who quickly flew into his face, a mere centimeter away. It spoke more of Creator's 'English'. Fortunately, he had found more of the language on his data banks; he could understand her statement.

"And quite mean..." She had said, clearly referencing the home. He didn't respond, simply staring at her, and playing back the recording of what she had said in the house. "Oh...my...you are very...big..." Now he understood. He could attempt communication. It would take much more time to be able to carry out greater conversations, but at the very least he could keep up a friendly facade.

"I. Apologize." He said, his vocoder spluttering. He had not maintained it very well; it was not essential to operations, it's only uses being to taunt hostile Commanders and communicate with sentients. Neither of which he did much of. Perhaps that would change. The equine stared at him for a few moments, before her passive-aggressive glare turned to a soft smile, and she closed her eyes.

"It's alright...I forgive you." Forgive? He did not know the definition of the word, it's use having expired many years prior. He quickly decided to run an ancient context algorithm, which gave him the definition of 'stop blame and grant pardon'. He silently thanked his past self for not removing the algorithm from his logic cores. She had opened her eyes, staring at him with a strangely compassionate gaze. "My name is Fluttershy...what's yours?"

"My. Title. Is. Commander." He didn't really trust giving his name to anything capable of hearing. He was quite a lucrative target, and hostile Commanders were crafty; they could've possibly placed audio inputs on these sentients, without their knowledge of what they possibly could be. Fluttershy looked at him strangely, before speaking again.

"Commander..?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. He nodded slightly, but did not say anything. "That's..." She softly said, holding her mouth open to say something else for a few moments; soon closing it. He proceeded to make his way back towards the base site. Fluttershy followed him, hovering just above the top of the trees. Within two minute's time, they had arrived at the site. He looked around, confused. Dyncik was nowhere to be seen. He double-checked his calculations, discovering the mistake he had made; correcting the countdown. One more minute until impact. He turned towards her.

"Go. Back. Home. Please." He said, causing her to look at him strangely.

"W-what about my roof?" She asked in return. Her cause was justified, at the very least; he didn't replace the roof of her home.

"Soon. Will." He needed a word for replace. He searched his memory banks for a suitable word. "Reimburse." It was the closest word he could find within his memory. Fluttershy tilted her head, staring at him for a brief moment, before flying back off to her cottage. Perhaps she was confused by his manner of speech; maybe she was just so intrigued that he even existed. All he knew, is that for some odd reason, she hadn't a problem speaking with him, and he...enjoyed speaking with her.

He didn't want to think about this, so he brought his attention back to the countdown of Dyncik's descent. Ten seconds, and he was still near the estimated landing zone of his second-in-command. This didn't bother him too much; he'd been in the landing zone of enemy Commanders before, his very own second-in-command would be no different. Five seconds. He looked up in the sky, and saw a red laser shining from above. It's origin was a large pod speeding through the atmosphere, flames engulfing it. It hastily reached the ground, impacting with a loud crash, which sent a large shock wave of blue energy outwards. The wave swept past him quickly, only managing to raise his internal temperatures by ten degrees; scrambling his systems for a few moments, causing sound to become muffled and vision to become blurry. Once again, the vegetation at the edge of the area burst into flames. His blurred vision soon cleared, revealing his second-in-command bowing to him.

Dyncik was another interesting creation of his, the design originating from a long-since outdated model, the Gil-E sniper bot. The original railgun, along with an 'Uber' cannon, were now mounted onto his shoulders; the old 'sniper' weapon affixed onto his right, the 'Uber' cannon on his left. His left arm had now possessed a Commander-level Lathe, the right arm equipped with rocket launchers and a small laser weapon appended at the wrist. Dyncik had also came equipped with numerous improvements to his central intelligence, his cores - logic, simulation, and emotional - were even equipped with algorithms to take over the army if Avol were to perish in combat.

Dyncik soon rose, charging up his Lathe (which glowed a soft teal), and getting to work, assembling the extractors first, before moving onto the other structures. Avol turned and began walking back towards Fluttershy's home, certain Dyncik would have the base operational by his return. As he walked, he thought to himself. What makes Fluttershy so different to other sentients? Is it just because he could speak with her? Was the rest of her species like this? He had hoped they were, however much he wanted to think otherwise. He couldn't change this easily. Just two systems earlier he had wiped the planets clean of life with his hatred for the sentients. What was so different?

He shook his head, trying his best to kick in more of his Commander instincts. Sentients are fools. They harm those who attempt to help them. All of them deserve to die meaningless, painful deaths. Apply those principles to Fluttershy, and...the only one he ended up hating was himself. How could he think of an innocent creature in such a way? A better question is, how couldn't he? This was bothering him greatly. Perhaps Fluttershy was a weapon of sorts. She was emitting some kind of frequency, scrambling his judgement, lowering his guard. That was the only possible answer there could be! Why else would she be so welcoming of his presence? Why else would she be so willing to speak with him? Without fear, without dismay, without worry!

He let out a mechanical snarl through his vocoder, sending numerous forest creatures scampering away. He set the thought chain to the lowest priority in his logic cores. He had to make an impression, at the very least. If she was a weapon, the secret would not be hidden for long. He could see the cottage, and soon enough arrived, charging his Lathe. He swept the tool over the missing gap where the roof once was, replacing it with minimal effort. Fluttershy must've fallen back asleep, as she didn't exit the cottage. Perhaps if he didn't use the klaxon, they would've never met. He thought about this for a moment, before looking up at the night sky; gazing at the brightly glowing full moon. This particular satellite had a very strange; seemingly artificial orbit, as if it was being consistently held in place by some outside force. When the orbital systems were brought online, perhaps he would visit it; see what caused it's odd orbit.

That would come later, however. He checked the amount of time left until the War Room's arrival. It had already arrived, conveniently enough. The War Room could arrive with a much less clamor than he or Dyncik. It was robust enough to be dropped from orbit and survive with little damage, while the Astraeus could simply fly off; lose stability at a distance, making it much less noticeable. With that brought to mind, he began marching back to the base, eager to enter standby. He arrived quite quickly, and noticed Dyncik had already established a satisfactory base, numerous turrets and walls around the perimeter, foundries on standby, the War Room in the centre. Avol slipped through a hole in the fortress' barricades, stepping closer to the War Room. It opened and he lay down within it, the opening closing soon after.

Once inside, he scanned through his memory banks of all that had happened on Equis thus far. He arrived with intentions to find the Commander readings had suggested, but there seemed to be no sign of any such readings to be accurate. Perhaps his frequency key was corrupted. He would have to load a backup a couple years old, but that didn't bother him. What bothered him is how Fluttershy seemed to be so naive. So unaware of his war-like nature, so welcoming of his presence. The old thought chain came back to high priority, but he quickly banished it from his logic cores entirely. Come the morning, he would have answers. He would find the hostile Commander(s), annihilate him(them), and move on from Equis. That was all he would do, and he would never visit this planet again. He could expel Fluttershy, and the lush forests of the system from his cores, nevermore enter them again. With that, he told the War Room to awake him at noon; powered down his systems and entered standby.

Chapter Two: Rapport Reinforcement

Rapport Reinforcement

Light was soon within his optics as the War Room had taken him from his standby. He sat up, checking the solar time. Half past nine. Dread. The War Room never deviated from schedule unless an unprecedented event had occurred. Instantly, all his Commander instincts kicked in. The base must be under attack! He forced his way out of the War Room, not even bothering to let it unlock before prying it's doors open. It would need fixed, but that didn't matter. His army needed him on the front lines, now. He dashed through the base, sending out commands across the base. Foundries were to produce as many war machines as possible, all turrets were to engage at maximum range, and all troops on the ground were to assume battle formation. Numerous bombers and interceptors flew overhead, their engines screaming as birds scattered in their wake. The Bots ran out to form the front line, as they were expendable. The tanks and mobile artillery positioned themselves behind the wall of legged machines, forming a blockade any leader would be proud of. He dashed over to a nearby power generator, unplugging a large cable from the machine. He opened up his chest, plugging the cable into a port in his internals. It quickly charged all his systems to their capacity, allowing him to overclock his logic and simulation cores, whilst charging an 'Uber' cannon shot. He then quickly ripped the cable out, placing it back onto the generator sloppily. He then bounded to the front lines, his weapons aimed ahead; his shoulder plates unfolding to reveal the missile salvos within.

Then he waited. And waited. Exactly thirty minutes without any sign of hostiles. He slowly exited his battle stance, optics scanning over the forest. Motion sensors picked up nothing. No Commander frequencies. Nothing. His shoulder plates folded closed, and he scanned over the forest once more, the recesses of his intelligence hoping that there were enemy combatants. However, hard data kept telling him 'no', so he was obliged to drop the whole notion. The 'Uber' cannon was still charged. He quickly dispersed the energy with his Lathe, turning to face back towards the War Room, sending the commands for the base return to neutral status. Why did the War Room awaken him off schedule, even if it was only a few hours earlier? He saw Dyncik approaching, clapping his metal hands together.

"What a display, Commander." He said to Avol, chuckling. "The way you acted, I'd think the WR woke you because the moon was on a collision course."

"Funny." Avol responded. Dyncik liked to speak physically rather than through the Net. "Why was I awoken?"

"Because of this." Dyncik held out a small, flat and flimsy object. Further scans revealed it to be a paper or parchment of some sort. "A sentient came by and gave this to me, telling me to 'give it to the Commander.'" The only sentient who knew about his title was Fluttershy. What could she possibly want?

"Give it to me." Avol said, his weaponry folding inward in favor of the Grappler, which soon folded out of the slot. He took the small paper from Dyncik and enhanced his optic's zoom in an attempt to read it. It clearly didn't help, as he could not read even a single word written on the small sheet. It all looked like indecipherable symbols. He shook his head, dropping the small note; crushing it beneath his metal foot. "Did the sentient say anything else?"

"Something about her home. I couldn't hear because she went quiet when one of the Fabricators overloaded." Dyncik responded whilst staring back at Avol with his single, bright white optic.

"Improve the base, I want more reliable radar systems and landmines."

"But of course, Commander." Dyncik lightly saluted, and turned to head back into the base.

"Ensure they do not trigger from a sentient or a forest creature. I don't want wasted resources." Avol said as he strode away, heading towards Fluttershy's home. Quickly, the sound of Lathe use filled the air. The sound of progress. However, what Dyncik said bothered him. Why did she want to meet with him? Instantly the assumption came up that she was plotting something, but he quickly left the thought behind. Fluttershy was probably just wanting to talk to him, perhaps inviting him over to learn more. He could imagine the exchange going down right now. The two sitting in front of the house, talking about everything that comes to mind. He stumbles over the language numerous times, she helps him. They watch the stars together...and then an army of hostile machines surround him, revealing the trap laid before him.

He abandoned the thought chain, soon arriving at the house. He stood at the edge of the trees, scanning the nearby forest for any sign of hostile forces. When nothing drew his suspicion, he exited the forest, stepping closer to the small cottage. She must be inside. This time, he would be a little less startling. He approached the doorway, crouching down; tapping the small wooden construction with a single metal finger. He then stood, waiting patiently, turning his upper body to look off into the distance. Small structures, perhaps a town. He would investigate later. Now, he had a date with a sentient. The door soon opened, and Fluttershy exited, smiling up at him.

"H-hello, Commander..." She said somewhat nervously. Avol turned his upper body to face towards her.

"You. Wanted. To." He needed a word for meet. "Rendezvous?" Curse him and his inarticulation. She nodded in response, her smile still wide.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friends." Instantly, alerts started going off; his simulation cores bringing back to mind the hostile army emerging from the vegetation. He calmed himself, and nodded, unsure of what she meant. She peeks back into the cottage, and started speaking to some unseen individual or individuals. He enhanced his audio inputs in an attempt to pick up what was being said. The first voice he heard was not Fluttershy's.

"Sugarcube, ah don' mean to be mean or nuttin', but are you crazy!?" The voice was hard to explain. It did not sound at all like Fluttershy, and possibly possessed a form of dialect.

"H-he's not mean...he's just...big..." This was Fluttershy's voice, at least he could recognize it.

"Where did he even come from? Please Fluttershy, don't give me the answer of 'from the forest.'" This was different from the other voice, whom he decided to call Alpha. This one he called Beta.

"Darling, he looks like a war machine. He's nothing but bad news." The word 'darling' rang in his head. Perhaps this was Fluttershy's mother? Possibly even her father? Strangely distinguished, he called this one Delta.

"He's not mean...!" He could tell Fluttershy was in distress, but her supposed yell came out more as a small squeak.

"Here, since you all are gonna sit here and be scared, I'm gonna go out and be awesome!" This voice had a tone of arrogance and narcissism. It reminded him of Varil. He hated Varil. He decided to name it Omega. Motion sensors went off, something was moving in the house. Within a few seconds, a cyan pegasus, similar to Fluttershy, but clearly more athletic, exited the home. The pegasus had a mane possessing all of a rainbow's colors; marking on her flank similar to lightning, but with a rainbow streaking out from the cloud. The pegasus quickly took flight and got even closer than Fluttershy had, her snout pressing against his head, her magenta eyes level with his red optics; a wide, assertive grin across her face.

"Hey! You!" This pegasus was revealed to be Omega. He simply stared back at her, refusing to say a word to this obscenely forceful creature. She frowned, narrowing her eyes. "Playing the silent game, eh?" He scanned his data banks for any form of entertainment known as the 'silent game'. He found none. It must be an expression of sorts. He blocked out Omega's speech, and focused his audio inputs on listening to the conversations within the house.

"Rainbow Dash is still out there." Beta said. Omega's name must be Rainbow Dash then. Unfortunate, as he would continue to call her Omega. She had no respect for him, he has no respect for her.

"I-I'll go see..." Fluttershy said. Motion sensors go off again, and soon Fluttershy exited through the open door. He decided to focus back on Omega with his optics; finding her right where he had left her, hovering so close her snout was scrunched up against his metal face.

"Your buddy doesn't talk much, Flutters." Omega said, turning her attention to Fluttershy, before looking back at him. She knocked against his metal forehead with a hoof. Instantly all alerts lit up. Attempted physical harm by this pegasus. He wasn't about to have a single second of it, his Commander instincts instantly taking priority. Sentient extinction algorithm engaged. He would start his conquest here. He quickly reached up, grabbing hold of one of Omega's wings with two metal fingers. Instantly, she started panicking. "Whoa, buddy! Calm down!" The words barely registered. He charged his Lathe. Soon, Omega would be nothing but a pool of Latiah. A victim of conquest.

"No!" Fluttershy shouted, catching him by surprise. He looked over to her, and upon making eye contact, a bizarre feeling washed over him. It felt exactly like when the Creators hooked him up to a computer via the override port on the back of his head, and edited his base systems. He couldn't explain this phenomenon. The forest's flame retardant nature, the moon's odd orbit, and now Fluttershy's strange 'stare' ability. There was something off about Equis. "Let go of her." Her tone was commanding and authoritative. He managed to break his gaze away from hers, staring back at Omega. He released her from his grasp, and she hit the ground with a loud thump. "Now say you're sorry." He looked at Fluttershy for a moment, thinking briefly of murdering her, before letting out a mechanical groan through his vocoder, the Lathe powering down.

"I. Apologize." He said, looking down at Omega.

"No, I'm the one who should be saying sorry, dude." She stood, looking up at him. "I guess I know how statues feel when somepony knocks on them to see if they're real." She said, scratching the back of her head with her foreleg. They were so small. He could kill them easily. But he didn't want to. Omega was showing him respect. He would reciprocate. Omega, no, Rainbow Dash, wasn't as bad as he had originally thought. The strange variation on 'somebody' went unnoticed. She held out a hoof to him. "We good?" He crouched down onto one knee, staring at the pegasus. He cocked his right arm back, clenching his metal hand into a fist. Instantly, Dash froze with fear, her eyes widening. He heard Fluttershy gasp.

"Apology. Accepted." He said to her, slowly bringing his metal hand down to gently clutch her extended hoof. She nervously chuckled, trying her hardest to shake her hoof about, despite being in the grasp of his sturdy metal digits. After about a minute of contact, he let go, rising back onto his feet. "Bring. Colleagues." Dash stared up at him for a moment, before saluting; nodding.

"Aye aye, Commander." She said, grinning and making her way back into the home. Fluttershy watched her enter, before looking back at him.

"I'm sorry...for doing that to you..." What was she talking about? The strange stare? It's odd effects? "But I won't let my friends fight each other..." Friends? Fighting each other? Did she consider him a friend?

"Was. Instinct." He said, whilst running a diagnostic check. Fluttershy kept quiet, peering back into the house. For some odd reason, there was a massive deviation to his normal processor usage. He scanned through his operational modules, and found the ancient context algorithm was still operating, performing so far beyond it's task it had begun expanding his dictionary exponentially. That would explain why he could understand them so clearly. He once again silently thanked himself for not removing the algorithm centuries ago.

After some time, Dash exited the home, three other sentients of snowy white, purple and bright orange color in tow. Fluttershy stepped out of the way. The three newcomers simply stared at him, in what appeared to be shock or awe. Perhaps a combination of both. After some time, the purple sentient spoke up.

"H-hello!" She said in an immediately recognizable tone of nervousness and fear, revealing herself to be Beta in the process. This sentient had a strange mane, deep blue with streaks of magenta and dark purple running through the centre. Her eyes were purple in color, and she possessed a horn on her forehead, in addition to wings. The symbol on her flank was that of a large pinkish 'star' with five other, white stars adjacent. This symbol was far from accurate, but he ignored it. Beta stepped closer, bowing. "Princess Twilight Sparkle at your service." She said, her voice straining to remain in a conversational manner.

"Princess?" He asked. Twilight looked no different from any other. What made her a princess? Her horn? What possible use could a large chunk of bone have? It's tip was rounded, so it couldn't even have the use of a natural weapon. Twilight nodded, looking up from the ground, and standing.

"Ah reckon he ain't too cozy with how things work here." The orange sentient said, revealing herself to be Alpha. Alpha was unique from the others, possessing neither wings nor a horn. Her mane was a bright yellow, her eyes bright green, and her symbol being that of three apples. In addition, she had three white specks on each cheek. These sentients were odd. Bright, colorful, diverse. The only colors he'd ever seen from other sentients were metallic grey, deep blue, and dark red.

"To be honest, darling, I don't even think he's listening to us." The white sentient spoke up, her voice identifying her as Delta. Delta was one of her own, with a horn; without wings. Her mane was a soft purple, her eyes a bright blue. Her symbol was three blue diamonds. Interesting. He tapped out of his audio inputs, and brought his attention back to his army. The Seraph was repaired from it's impact; the first fabricators were just launching from the orbital platform. He watched over the progress by observing via Dyncik's vision. After about a minute, he tapped back into his audio inputs.

"-to Canterlot. Introduce him to the Princesses." Twilight had just finished saying. Instantly, his interest peaked. He listened, whilst not moving in the slightest.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Dash asked.

"I think the Guard wouldn't greet him appropriately, Twilight." Delta said. He had to know what they were speaking of.

"Explain." He said, rotating his upper body to face towards them. All of them jumped, bringing their attention to him.

"T-the Guard?" Twilight asked, staring up at him in concern. He nodded.

"Yes."

"The Guard is just our military...like your...machines." Her ears folded back as she sheepishly grinned up at him. He didn't know why Dash and Fluttershy seemed so accepting of him, whilst the others were seemingly afraid. Were they even afraid?

"Are. You. Afraid?" He decided to ask her. He simulated what he looked like to her. A massive, looming machine with aggressive-looking, bright red glowing eyes, and it was asking if he was afraid. Perhaps her terror was well placed, then.

"...Yes..." She said after much silence. "I think I speak for all of us..."

"Very. Well." He replied, turning his upper body to face towards the structures in the distance. "Structures. Distance. Why?" Dash took flight, hovering next to him, and squinting to see the structures.

"Those?" She looked over to him.

"Yes."

"That's Ponyville, closest town to Fluttershy's house, and to your base, or city, whatever it is." She looked back to the structures in the distance. He turned his upper body even further, noticing a small dirt trail lined with trees leading away from the house. He turned his lower body, and started down the trail. His audio inputs revealed they had begun talking amongst each other, motion sensors not going off. Nothing was following him. He was alone again, and it felt so strange. How could he be alone on a planet with a hostile Commander upon it? Not to mention the sentients? On any other planet his base would've been assaulted at least ten times by now, and if he was wandering like he was now, he would be dead.

Why did he not just leave well enough alone and go to Nalios instead? From the looks, Nalios had a much more valuable set of tech planetside. It wouldn't have mattered. He still would've went towards Equis. He still would've met Fluttershy and her friends. He still would be feeling the way he is now. So alone. Why was he suddenly dependent upon these sentients? He didn't need sentients before, he didn't need them now! But he wanted them. He wanted for them to speak with him. He wanted to learn about them. He wanted to be close. But why!? He let out a loud snarl through his vocoder, causing motion sensors to explode with activity as numerous forest creatures dash off in terror.

The village was coming into view, and he stopped just outside of the settlement. Numerous other sentients were calmly walking about the town. They weren't going to be walking once they saw him. He was right. One sentient stopped walking in the middle of the unpaved street, staring at him. It set off a chain reaction. Soon, all the sentients were silently staring at him in fear. He slowly walked into the town, watching the sentients nonchalantly. As soon as a sentient was out of his optic's view, they became a signature on the motion sensors, making a mad dash for the closest building.

Suddenly, a large signature appeared on his motion sensor, his audio inputs detecting loud thumping noises. It was the size of him. He quickly turned about, raising his right arm to- Two metal feet impacted with his face, sending him flying backwards, his audio inputs picking up the sound of an optic's protective glass shattering. Pain shot throughout his metal face. He hit the ground with a loud crash, sliding for a few metres. He slowly sat up, his vision fuzzy, his gyroscopes thrown out of balance from the sudden impact, causing his systems to be hazy. His attacker was on the ground, as it had just performed a two-foot jumping kick. It quickly righted itself, standing. His vision cleared, revealing his attacker was the Impostor, in a form exactly like that of his body.

The Impostor was a machine of his own design, concealed within the War Room's extra storage pod. It had multiple uses, but he had usually used it as a training partner. It had the ability to copy any object with roughly the same mass as it. Of course, it could become much less massive objects, but at the cost of altering it's appearance to compensate for the much larger amount of matter behind it. He had copied his combat programming into the machine, so it fought exactly like him. He always stood by what one of the Creators once said, "Before you may defeat the enemy, you must first defeat yourself." So, he trained against the Impostor, soon getting to the point where the fights would become long, drawn out battles lasting over a month.

However, that was when there were friendly terms. No surprise attacks, and no genuine attempt at harm. The Impostor had broken both of these rules, despite having no intelligence of it's own. Something was very wrong. He stood, his right optic picking up drastically more light than his left. The conflicting light levels made it hard to see, so he deactivated his right optic. The Impostor's laser weapon folded inward, the Grappler folding out. It then held the metal hand palm up, curling and straightening it's fingers. Quite unlike the 'both bow and battle' proceedings.

He stood, folding in his Grappler model and folding out a large blade. The Impostor did the same, holding the blade outwards behind it. He stared at the Impostor, trying to access it's systems. He got the same error that he did trying to access a hostile's systems: 'string not found: 1046.' The Impostor was no longer his own machine. It was another's. Another Commander's. A hostile Commander's. He entered his battle stance, the Impostor mirroring him. There was no way out of this. If he did not kill it, it would kill him.

Chapter Three: Unaccounted Variables

Unaccounted Variables

They stared at each other. Shades in the looking glass. He calculated his possibilities of winning. But what chances did he have against himself? The Impostor knew everything he was going to do, when he was going to do it. If a hostile Commander had acquired the Impostor, then they could add the few slight tweaks to make it unpredictable. Make his calculations wrong, his judgments unfounded. He was no longer fighting himself. He was fighting someone else, someone who knew his every move.

He took a step forth, the Impostor doing the same. It was mimicking him for fun now. He wanted to destroy it, but he knew it would be difficult, even threatening to his well being. He took another step forth, the Impostor remaining his mirror image. His right optic would limit his effectiveness, perhaps even cripple him. He brought his attention to the nearby buildings, seeing the sentients watching on in horror and awe.

He then suddenly exploded into movement, bounding towards the Impostor, the machine completely mirroring his actions. Perhaps this wasn't the Impostor at all? It moved too much like a reflection. Possibly a visual glitch? Were his systems defective? He swung his blade forward, the Impostor following suit. The two weapons collided with a loud clang, a shower of yellow sparks exploding off of the swords. No, they were not. This was real. He attempted more strikes against the Impostor, only to be met with harsh resistance. Neither he nor his partner in swordplay managed to land any significant strike. This duel was going nowhere.

He decided to take a new route, quickly swapping out the blade for the Grappler, and attempting to punch his enemy. He landed the strike, his metal fist clanging against the thick armor of the Impostor's chest. It stumbled backwards. Now was his chance. He kept the pressure on, continuing to repeatedly batter the Impostor with punches and kicks. It broke free from the barrage by catching his metal fist in it's own, and then delivering a swift kick to his right knee. Pain shot through it, indicating the servo within was either damaged or destroyed. He stumbled backwards, and the Impostor leapt into the air, delivering a powerful kick to his chest. He was sent flying backwards and smashing through a building.

He sat up, seeing the Impostor approaching him through the wooden rubble. He quickly rose to his feet, his right knee's servo painfully screaming in protest. He dashed forward, attempting another attack. The Impostor was prepared, as it deflected the strike with a swat of the left arm, and countered with an uppercut. His vision exploded into a number of optical tears, the Impostor becoming a garbled mess of numerous different colors, background so corrupted it was impossible to distinguish trees from buildings. Diagnostics check. Now. He backed away from the mass of color that was the Impostor, quickly returning to his feet.

Diagnostics revealed one of his visual processors had ruptured. The only processor that would produce a clear image would be his right optic's. He quickly disabled his left optic, reinitializing his right. Everything was extremely bright, but at least the rupture wouldn't leave him crippled. He dashed back forwards, striking viciously and relentlessly. The Impostor was expecting every second of this, blocking his attacks without fault or pause. It wouldn't expect what he was about to do. He quickly kneed the machine in the stomach, sweeping it's legs out from under it, and stomping onto it's metal face. He heard the satisfying sound of an optic, not just it's protective screen, shatter entirely.

The Impostor quickly kicked him away, returning to it's feet. It quickly looked about, before returning it's attention to him. It closed the distance, attempting a punch to his face, but he dodged out of the way, kicking it in the left knee. A loud crack came from the kneecap. The sweet sounds of destruction. The Impostor stumbled backwards, left leg shuddering under it's own weight. He leapt into the air, attempting a swift kick to the Impostor's chest. The Impostor, however, grabbed hold of his foot and held him in the air. It's Lathe charged up, turning a bright yellow. It then threw him, spraying it's Lathe towards him at the same time.

Instead of impacting with fragile wooden structure, he collided with solid metal, coming to a dead stop. Instantly, he was terrified. This was a very vicious and ruthless technique he had employed on two hundred other Commanders. Not one of them survived; he was certainly about to become the two hundred and first victim. Before he could rise, the Impostor kicked him back down against the metal barrier behind him. It continued to kick him against the metal object, using it as a prop to deliver massive damage. Each strike was followed with a loud screech, the sound of his armored chest crumpling inwards. He could feel no emotions, and his calculations ended abruptly. This is what the attack was designed to do: Rupture the victim's systems until they are crippled beyond self-repair.

His systems blacked out for a moment, quickly coming back on. The sky was much darker, indicating he had swooned numerous hours ago, and the Impostor had kept it's assault through that time. He was feeling very drained, hardly able to keep the single optic online. He would die here, but he wanted to know why. A diagnostics scan revealed what had happened. His emotion and logic cores were ruptured, severely hindering his ability to calculate. Two energy mains were also severed, along with three coolant mains, coolant spewing from the lines and flooding his ventral cavity. He stopped resisting, his arms falling limp at his sides. The Impostor finally stopped it's assault, staring at him. It's Grappler slowly folded inward, torturing him further by just anticipation. After about a minute of pause, it's laser weapon folded outward; 'Uber' energy beginning to gather around it. The energy soon formed a large orb, violently writhing about the Impostor's weapon. The Impostor took aim at him.

"Any last words?" It asked, speaking with not only his voice, but another's laced beneath it.

"Meet you...in oblivion." He responded, his vocoder struggling to piece the words together.

Something hit the Impostor, sending it barreling away, the 'Uber' cannon blast discharging into the ground, sending soil skyward in a large explosion. At first, he didn't see it. Then his optic picked up a massive stream of light. All colors of the visual spectrum, with traces of infrared and ultraviolet. A rainbow of sorts, but with some unfathomable driving mass behind it. His audio inputs picked up what sounded like a massive explosion come from above. He slowly looked up, catching sight of a large ring of rainbow light dispersing from a single point. It looked almost like a break of the sound barrier. Then the energy hit him. A massive wave of energy flooded through his systems, bypassing their dependency on the mains for a vessel. He quickly stood, looking towards the Impostor. It's side was crumpled inward by the strike, no doubt rupturing many of it's systems. He turned this to his advantage, quickly closing the distance. He folded his Grappler inward, folding the blade out, and ramming it through the Impostor's metal throat, having aimed it for the link to the central intelligence.

"Enemy Commander annihilated." Universal calmly stated. He stared at the Impostor silently, knowing it's core had overload countermeasures. The energy apparently was not very efficient, as it was quickly drained, leaving him with almost nothing. He fell to his knees, the pain in his right servo, face, and entire chest flooding through him. Ruptures never delivered pain immediately. The pain emulators simply could not keep up with the speed and violence with which a system ruptured. Sometimes, they lagged so far behind they would deliver pain from a battle that had occurred ten years ago.

He folded in his blade, folding out the Grappler. He then pried his chest open with much difficulty, brightly-glowing cyan coolant cascading out, and pulled a small cable from it. He then plugged it into the override port on the back of the Impostor's head. He scanned through it's systems carefully, inspecting the damage he and that 'rainbow' had caused it. Ruptured visual processors, completely destroyed logic, simulation, and emotion cores, destroyed optic, and a shattered servo in the left knee. He shook his head, diving into it's memory banks. The memory banks were completely wiped, the only items remaining were an image, an audio file, and a video. He paused for a brief moment, before downloading them onto his banks, scrubbing them for malicious programming. He found nothing of the sort, and disconnected the cable, putting it back into his abdominal cavity, before closing the mangled armor back over it.

"Commander!" Rainbow Dash's voice called out from behind him. He slowly and shakily stood, turning to face her. She was hovering in place, using her wings to maintain altitude with his face. "You alright?"

"Yes." He said, the word coming out more as a garbled growl than an affirmation. She swept her gaze across his body, before staring at him with a strange expression.

"So, what? No 'thanks Rainbow', or even 'that was cool'?" She asked after a minute of silence.

"What. For?" He asked, his vocoder reducing most of it to a garbled static.

"Hitting that look-alike." She said matter-of-factly. She was the source of that rainbow strike? Interesting.

"Acknowledged." He said. "How?"

"It's what I call a Sonic Rainboom." Sonic Rainboom? Could Dash break the sound barrier? How was that possible? He didn't want to think about it, his logic core was aching as it tried to investigate despite the rupture.

"Interesting. Must. Explore. Later." He stated, moving past her and heading back towards the base. His right knee's servo locked up, so he began limping. Rainbow Dash followed him, hovering at his right.

"You sure you're alright?" She asked, concern in her voice.

"Systems. Damaged. Ruptures." He said. "Nothing. Incapable. Repairs."

"The way you're walking, it doesn't look like you'll make it two more steps." She said, flying in front of him and hovering level to his working optic. He stopped walking, staring at her. "Maybe you should relax a bit. I mean, you're lucky I came when I did, you look like you've been ran over by a train. Mr. Lookalike really dinged you up." Train. The word rung familiar to him, but he did not know why. His context algorithm had stopped working, so he wouldn't be able to figure out until later. "Here, lie down. If I've learned anything from my trip to a hospital, it's that you should stay off something you mess up." He slowly crouched, before shifting to lie down. It felt weird. He never had lied down anywhere other than the War Room. "I'll go get Flutters, and we'll go to your little city, tell 'em you need some attention." She quickly flew off, out of sight within seconds.

Perhaps she was capable of breaking the sound barrier. Perhaps she wasn't. His logic core ached, he couldn't think about this. It hurt him too much. He tried to send commands to the base. No response came back, so he ran another diagnostics check. Receivers were working, however, the transmitters were not. How inconvenient. He decided to dive into his data banks, and inspect the files he found aboard the Impostor. Opening the image first, he carefully inspected it. It was an image of a large palace perched upon a cliff side. He had actually seen this whilst fighting the Impostor, but he didn't pay much attention to it. At the bottom left corner of the image was a string of numbers. He did not want to try to decode it now, so he moved onto the audio file. It was Halon's screams he had recorded nearly a millennium ago. However, in the middle of the file was a sudden interruption.

"Beneath the sun's very own gaze lies the key to set them ablaze." The voice said. It was female in nature, but not like that of Universal's. It had a sinister undertone to it, like she was saying this to someone she was about to kill. The audio file then proceeded to play as normal. He cropped out the female's voice, saving it as a separate file. Then, he decided to view the video. It was just the battle between him and the Impostor from the Impostor's view. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred until it got to the point where he stabbed the Impostor. Then, the video went dark, a voice speaking from seemingly behind the view.

"Look to the sky, and you shall see, that not all that is, will ever be." This was male in nature. He couldn't say he recognized the voice, but it reminded him of one of the Creators. What was his name? Dmitri. Dmitri Noskov. He missed Dmitri. The two were close, even though they seldom saw each other. His emotion core ached. Missing others hurt. The video was still ongoing, and he refocused to it. Suddenly, bright flashing lights appeared in the video, all the while numerous different voices screamed various numbers. The video then ended, and he cropped out the different sections, saving them as separate files. He checked his internal chronometer. Quarter after seven. He was too drained. He couldn't keep online. His core was twenty degrees higher than it should be. He had to enter standby. He began shutting down his systems, taking one last look about before entering standby.

Chapter Four: To War

To War

Light flooded into his optics. He sat up and looked about, soon realizing he was within the War Room. His cores still ached, but they were functional. All systems were repaired. Dyncik had to have employed a Lathe bath. They repaired damages within seconds, but was less precise than other treatments. He left the War Room, the sound of Lathe use instantly catching his audio inputs. Dyncik had certainly been busy while he was incapacitated. Speaking of Dyncik, where was he? He looked about, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Commander!" A voice caught his attention. He turned around to face it's source. A small fabricator bot, which stared up at him with a single white optic. "You've finally recovered!"

"Indeed." He responded, whilst linking himself to the Net. His army was now twice as large as it was when he left for Fluttershy's. He scanned through the numerous signatures to find Dyncik, but he still found nothing. Perhaps he had left the base. "Where is Dyncik?" He asked the small bot.

"He had left with others to disassemble the Impostor." The machine responded. "They have been there for the last four hours." He nodded.

"Understood." He said, turning to leave. As he walked away from the base, he sent commands to stop production. He did not need a larger army at the moment. In fact, other than the Impostor turning against him, there hadn't been a single sign of resistance, sentients or otherwise. Instead of reassurance, this worried him. A force could appear and strike at any moment. He would need to be ready for them at any moment. His logic core ached, but he ignored it. He was perfectly operational. No reason to worry. He would meet with Dyncik, and then decide what to do from there.

Within a few moments, he arrived back at Ponyville. Some of the structures were still in shambles from the battle. No sign of Dyncik. He must've been on his way to Ponyville whilst Dyncik was on his way back to the base. Interesting how events can occur. He looked up towards the cliffs in the distance, focusing on the palace perched upon the precipice. He brought up the image of the palace, inspecting the numbers He sent a command to the Seraph, which was in orbit. Within moments, the transport descended from orbit, taking hold of him and lifting him into the sky. It then began taking him closer to the palace. Within a minute, they were hovering nearby. He searched for a suitable area to land. The paved road leading into the acropolis was barren. The drawbridge, which would have provided crossing of the river in front of the keep, was up. The structures within were too crowded to make a landing, so he decided the paved road would be the best site.

The Seraph brought him closer to the ground and released him. He hit the ground with a loud thunk, his metal feet cracking the pavement upon impact. The Seraph then retreated to the safety of high orbit. He looked about. Well-groomed vegetation lined the roads, appearing to have been cut very recently. He began his approach to the palace, stopping at the edge of the river; which cascaded down the cliff into a waterfall. He looked over the edge, and knocked a small stone off with his foot, which took fourteen seconds to hit the ground. About a ten kilometre drop. It was held up by two large metal chains, as to be expected. The problem, however, is figuring out how to get it to lower. Who was he kidding? Water hardly affected him, the depth of this river would be nothing.

He stepped out into the water, the extent of which bringing it up to his ankle. He walked across the river, reaching the other side in only two strides. He stood to the right of the gate, studying it. After a few moments, he grabbed the edge of the gate, forcing it downward with little difficulty. The entrance possessed only one other obstacle, a metal gate. He lifted it without issue, peering into the entrance, which was pitifully small. There was no sign of anything active, so he crawled through the entrance, standing as soon as it was permitted. He was greeted with a sight not unlike that of Ponyville. Numerous sentients were now standing in the streets, staring at him. They looked more 'high-class' than those in Ponyville. However, their social status did nothing to ease their fear. They were afraid just the same. He began walking through the streets, the sentients once again fleeing once out of his sight.

He walked for what must've been an hour, before finally reaching what he assumed was the centre piece of the walled city. A large, expansive palace awaited. He began his approach to the gate, which was barely enough to accommodate him, unsurprisingly. Two sentients stood at both sides of the gate, trying to look stoic whilst clearly trembling in fear at his approach.

"You shall not go further!" One of the sentients shouted as he halted at the gate. He stared at them for a brief moment, before prying open the doors, crouching down and crawling inside. He stood once within, looking about. This palace was certainly not designed with Commanders in mind, although the stained glass was very well made. He climbed the stairs with a single step, charging his Lathe and moving further into the palace, using the Lathe to carve a path through. He didn't know where he was going, nor why he was in the palace. He wished to explore; he would satisfy his curiosity.

He passed through numerous rooms in his exploration, one of which a dining room, another what looked to be a ballroom, and a large throne room. The throne room was the only room with sentients within, two guards like those at the gate, and another sitting on the throne itself. The sentient who sat upon the throne was snowy white in color, possessing a horn and wings; her mane consisting of numerous shades of pink, light purple, blue, and light green. She wore some decorative armor, or what seemed like armor. A large golden collar around her neck with an amethyst in the centre, a tiara with an amethyst at the central spire, and golden 'shoes' on each of her hooves. What struck him as odd was how her mane behaved. It had a sort of perpetual motion to it, as if wind was constantly flowing through it. His anemometer detected no draft or breeze through the chamber, which made the behavior all the more inexplicable. He began approaching, the guards looking to the sentient upon the throne. She did not seem fazed by him, and she silently watched him come closer. He stopped just before the throne. The leader upon the throne had light purple eyes, and a very inaccurate depiction of the sun on her flank.

"Greetings." He said, after about five minutes of complete silence.

"Welcome." The leader said, staring up at him. She had a sort of regal quality to her; it was extremely likely that if Twilight was a princess, this sentient was a queen of some sort. Her horn had a sharp tip to it, so she must be higher on the social hierarchy than Twilight, if it were any indication. Another few minutes of silence went by before she finally said something else. "Who might you be?"

"Commander." He simply stated. If this sentient was of great political stature, he did not want to gall her with broken grammar and syntax.

"You are a military commander?" She asked, a marginal hint of concern and nervousness in her voice.

"Yes." At this, her calm composure slightly deteriorated, her previously expressionless face beginning to convey what her voice already did.

"And your disposition? Towards us and our nation?"

"Neutral." This didn't do much to calm or reassure her, but it at the very least stopped the deterioration of her placidity. "Who. Are. You?" He decided to ask.

"I am Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria." Princess? Another one? She was much larger than Twilight, had a larger and more deadly horn, and yet she was a princess just like Twilight? Not only that, but she ruled the country? A princess ruling a country? He was flabbergasted, unable to process this. Princesses were not rulers, they were daughters of rulers! Unless Dmitri lied to him about politics (which he certainly hadn't), then Equestria's political establishment was clearly amongst the most unfathomably senseless systems he had ever had the misfortune of involving himself in. He calmed himself, opening his vents to cool the three extra degrees his core had accumulated; he still wanted to make a good impression, despite his desire to point out every single flaw with this form of government.

"Interesting." He simply said, not knowing how to follow up. Celestia stared at him confusedly, the guards also focusing their gaze on him. They must've heard the intakes cycling air through his system. It was extremely loud, but he had the audio inputs tuned out of the noise. He didn't want to say anything else, yet he did not want to walk out either. "Inquiry."

"Oh? What is it?" Celestia asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Familiar?" He asked, before playing back the recording of the female voice from the Impostor's audio file.

"No, I can't say I know what it means, although I have heard the statement before." She said, shaking her head. "I sincerely apologize." She would not be of much help to him. Which only raised the question: Why did the Impostor have an image of this city? What relation did the numbers in the corner have to anything at all? He doubted she would be able to answer either, so he turned and began walking out. He carved his way through the nearby wall, which lead him to a balcony. The balcony overlooked a large area of well-maintained vegetation and statues. He dropped off the balcony, landing with enough force to send soil flying. He pulled his metal feet from the dirt, and looked at the nearest statue. It was of a sentient he didn't recognize, swinging a pickaxe with it's forelegs. He couldn't fathom the significance of this statue, so he moved on.

The garden was much larger than expected, a massive hedge maze in the centre. Well, large in a sentient's sense. He towered over the hedges and dwarfed the statues, the hedge maze no more than a kilometer in diameter. He looked about, wandering aimlessly. There wasn't really a reason to be in this garden, just like there wasn't really a reason to enter the palace. He just wanted to wander. What a concept it was: sentients that didn't senselessly attack him without first asking his intentions. It felt so unbelievably foreign to him that he at one point dismissed the notion in it's entirety. Why was he still fascinated by this? It had dawned upon him at least two solar cycles ago, and he was still fawning over it like it was something unimaginable? Yes. Yes he was. Perhaps it was just because it was so out of the ordinary, or maybe because this was the only race to not attack him since the Creators.

He eventually came across a statue of Celestia. Her gaze was fixed upon a seeming dead end of the stone path. Beneath the sun's very own gaze. He approached the dead end, and tapped the path with his foot. He then lifted up his right leg, spooling up his servo. He then released the pent-up torque from the servo, causing his leg to shoot downward like a bullet out of a firearm. His foot punched through the stone, not contacting soil beneath. He pulled his foot from the stone, crouching down to the hole he had created. He cut away from it with his Lathe, revealing a large pit. He dropped a stone into the darkness, hearing it hit the bottom after two seconds. He dropped down, hitting not stone, but metal with a loud 'clang'.

He looked about, before activating his headlights. The two floodlights illuminated the dark chamber, revealing a metal floor, with large piles of deceased Commander corpses strewn about. This was a graveyard; of his very own kind, no less. He felt no sadness or grief. Only burning, unrelenting hatred towards them, even as they lay cold as the liquidated planet he was left for dead on. He began walking amongst the lifeless husks, not paying much attention to their condition or model. This entire chamber was odd, it seemed to stretch on forever in every direction. After some time, he came across something he really didn't know how to react to. A Commander's husk, the model of which was unlike any he'd ever seen. It was a strange amalgamation of numerous Commander models, so he fittingly labeled the model the 'Chimera'. The Chimera had a main body of a Rallus, the head of a Theta, left arm of an Alpha, right arm of an Invictus, and lower body of an Osiris. He stared at the Chimera's husk for a brief moment, before moving on. It wasn't anything to worry about. The combination of parts would likely make it's systems heavily desynchronized. Besides, if the Chimera had been a husk as long as these other Commanders, then it was certainly not going to come to life and attempt to attack him.

Ten minutes later, he finally came across a solid wall, with a lever in the centre. A large carving of Celestia's symbol surrounded the lever. The key to set them ablaze. Did he really want to pull this lever? What did she mean by setting them ablaze? Who are 'they'? Who was she? Why was her voice in that audio file? Why was that file on the Impostor? He shut down the thought process, taking hold of the lever with his metal hand. He pulled it down, the lever emitting a loud squealing noise as it slid.

"Enemy Commander detected." Universal said calmly. He turned around, and saw six glowing red optics staring back at him. Not one Commander, but at least six. Quickly, all the optics shifted to look towards the ceiling. A large wave of energy hit him, scrambling his systems, blinding him and bringing him to his knees. When his systems were finally clear, he looked about, the red optics now absent. He hit the floor with his metal fist, cursing with every word he knew. He stood up, making his way back to the hole he'd entered through. He noticed something odd, though. The Chimera was now absent from it's previous spot. He let out a sigh. The Chimera was alive and well, somehow hiding in plain sight from him. He reached the hole, and drove some fuel into his thrusters. He hadn't used these in a while, but he was certain they operated. The triggers ignited the fuel with a click, and he rose out of the hole on a stream of flame. He shut down the thrusters soon after, landing back on the very same path he had broken.

He looked back into the pit, before turning to leave. How foolish of him. He only had one Commander to deal with before. Now he had at the very least seven that needed to be annihilated. He silently cursed himself and his curiosity. He wandered through the garden, searching for a suitable spot to depart from. He stopped just outside the hedge maze, sending a command to the Seraph. He needed to alert Dyncik. Within a few minutes, the Seraph descended from the sky and took hold of him, pulling him high above the palace. It then began flying back to the base. Upon arrival, it quickly descended, dropping him off, and returning to high orbit. He looked around the base, noticing Dyncik approach.

"Welcome back, Commander." He said.

"What of the Impostor?" Avol asked.

"Completely disassembled, ready for reassembly at any moment." He said, looking back towards Ponyville. "The sentients were surprisingly cooperative, and even attempted to help."

"Define attempted."

"Hardly made a difference at all." Dyncik replied, chuckling. "The most significant contribution they made was getting sick from the coolant leaks."

"Coolant leaks?"

"Yes." Dyncik said. "At some point or another one of the sentients severed a coolant main, and the resulting pool gave them extreme illness."

"Was the yellow sentient involved?"

"The one with the pink mane? No, not at all." Dyncik's optic dimmed. "Why?"

"No reason." Avol replied. "I think it is also necessary to inform you of a change of circumstance."

"Really?" Dyncik said. "Do tell." The way he said it reminded Avol of Dmitri. Why was he suddenly on the mind?

"In addition to the original Commander signal, there is at least six other Commanders who are now loose on the planet."

"What? How?"

"Apparently the 'key to set them ablaze' was referring to the flames this battle will inevitably birth."

"Should I prepa-"

"Yes. Bring all defenses online. Get orbital radar as soon as possible. We must prepare for the coming war." With that, Avol turned and began heading towards the War Room. This was no longer the sentient's planet. This was no longer Fluttershy's, or Celestia's planet. This was his, and the other Commanders' planet. Together, they were about to turn it into a war zone. He wondered if she would forgive him. Forgive him for unleashing the Commanders. Forgive him for waging war on her planet. Forgive him for arriving, and sending her world down this path.

Chapter Five: Seeking Solutions

Seeking Solutions

He paused outside the War Room, looking back out across the base. Maybe he didn't have enough forces. Perhaps the hostile Commanders had already built a larger army. He put his simulation core to the task of envisioning the other's armies. Knowing the speed he and other Commanders could bring facilities online, he began piecing together the variables. Factoring in the fabricators, differing Lathe models, differing Lathe energies; finally accounting the Chimera's likely system synchronization, or lack thereof. Two hours. They would likely have an operational base, and by extension a sizable army within two hours. His intakes opened and cycled air through his systems. His cores were slightly overheating. The coolant hadn't been replenished yet, and it would take at least another cycle before the process would complete. The battle with the Impostor certainly did not help matters, either. He turned and headed out of the base.

There wasn't much to see in the forest, especially from his elevated view. Motion sensors were dead, no movement nearby other than the trees rustling in the breeze. It was calm, and that's what concerned him. Battle didn't jolt him, the sounds of thumping mortars and howitzers, the roar of flamethrowers, the loud chirp of laser weaponry, and the sharp 'whiz' noise of railgun bolts passing him by. None of it concerned him. None of it threatened him. It was silence that made him weary. He drifted his thoughts back towards his foolishness. How could he not have put it together? He had been waging war, conquering planets, destroying hundreds of races for over a thousand years, and yet he couldn't take a hint. However, that also drew his attention back to the chamber. It was hidden beneath the palace garden, and the lever was even decorated with Celestia's symbol.

What did this mean? Did she know about the machines hidden under her acropolis? And if she did, why was she even slightly surprised at his arrival? She had contact with Commanders before, certainly. Especially if she had emblazoned her symbol within the chamber. But what did that mean? Was she working with the Commanders? Did she seal them away? It didn't make sense, and it wasn't adding up. The sentients had next to no methods of harming Commanders, in fact, the only ones who seemed to have any forceful influence on him or his fellow machines were Fluttershy, with her piercing glare, and Dash, with her odd 'Sonic Rainboom'. Every other sentient seemed to be just as weak as any other species he had come across. Celestia herself, with her oddly flowing mane, had nothing of any note other than a very powerful energy signature.

Wait. The energy signatures. He hadn't taken notice of them before, but it had just come to mind. Each sentient emanated a large, powerful energy field. His sensors tuned out of their fields due to it's abundance, but in their absence, he noticed how different he felt. He felt less powerful. Although his systems weren't able to draw energy from the fields, they seemed to have an odd effect on his central processor and cores. Logical calculations seemed to occur faster, simulations ran faster, and he felt what he could only vaguely describe as 'better' in their presence. However, Celestia emanated one of great magnitude. However, what greatly troubled him, was the fields emanated by Fluttershy and her friends. Combined, were reaching magnitudes nearly that of the Thanatos Apparatus. How could six sentients match the might of a machine which dissolved planets? The questions kept adding up, and went without a single answer.

He stopped walking. Maybe he should do some research. Find out what made these sentients so powerful, what gave them their remarkable power, and perhaps even an explanation for some other oddities. Where would he start, though? The name Twilight came back to his mind. She was a Princess, which would mean that she would likely have extensive knowledge of her people. He would speak with Celestia, but he couldn't trust her. At least not for the moment. He turned and headed towards Ponyville. He didn't know where to find Twilight, but he would search until he did. There had to be an explanation, a scientific and logical reason for all the strange things he had seen. He also wanted to know, just where their loyalty lied.

It didn't take him long to arrive, just under a minute. The town was still in disrepair, numbers of buildings smashed and ruined from the battle with the Impostor. There were sentients slowly picking up rubble from the remains of structures. There was a large pool of coolant that had been cordoned off by a makeshift wooden wall. Dyncik didn't do anything to contain the leak. He was somewhat disappointed, and yet somewhat pleased. Dyncik had followed orders, not cleaning up coolant to prevent wasted time, as per usual protocol. However, he didn't block it from the sentients, he left that to their own efforts. It wouldn't be unlikely that this would cause issues. That brought to mind an old method he used to employ on troublesome sentients. Flooding their water supply with coolant. Ingesting coolant induced a sickness, in which the blood and flesh of the organic would slowly be consumed, and converted into coolant. It would result in massive lakes of cyan coolant, a bright and beautiful display of violence.

"Hiya!" The cheery voice shunted him from his thoughts. He quickly turned about, facing the source. It was a bright pink sentient, with a messy, fluffy mane and tail. The symbol on her flank were oddly colored orbs, attached to a wire of sorts. He swore he had seen these before, but he couldn't remember their name.

"Greetings." He replied. Perhaps he would try to converse more like them. "What is identity?" This caused her to look at him oddly, her head cocked at an angle. She didn't reply, her tail twitching lightly. He decided not to waste time with her, so he turned and moved on. Where would Twilight be? He looked around the town, taking note of the largest buildings. His optics finally locked onto a crystalline tree-like structure. It was the largest in the town, however, he still dwarfed it, the very highest point only reaching his pelvis. This would likely be where Twilight stayed. He crouched onto one knee, tapping the door with one metal finger.

Then he waited. No answer for a minute. That minute became two. Five. Ten. Thirty. One hour. Two. The door finally opened, Twilight nervously peeking her head out of the threshold, and looking up at him.

"Y-you're still out here?" Twilight seemed to ask herself.

"Yes. I wish to converse." He replied anyway, just in case the question was indeed intended for him. Twilight's ears folded back against her head.

"Yes, of course." She spoke with a nervous tone. She didn't open the door any wider, if anything, she tried to hide behind it. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You. And kin. History, science, logic. Anything." She nervously laughed.

"You don't skimp, do you?" She slowly opened the door wider. "I actually found a legend I think you'll find interesting."

"Elaborate." Twilight closed the door, motion sensors indicating she moved back inside. After about a minute, she returned, holding a large case by the handle in her teeth. She dropped it, and looked back up to him.

"I did my best to translate most of it from Old Equestrian to New Equestrian, but don't be surprised if it's not one hundred percent spot-on." Old Equestrian? New Equestrian?

"What discourse is yours?"

"What language am I speaking? New Equestrian, of course." New Equestrian was apparently identical to English. Interesting. Suddenly, her expression turned to one of surprise. "Wait, you understand me, right?"

"Yes." Her eyes widened further.

"Does that mean...?" She shook her head, chuckling to herself. "Of course not, what am I thinking?" With that, she turned, and headed inside the structure, closing the door behind her. He didn't bother to track her with motion sensors, carefully picking up the case she had left with two metal fingers, and beginning to leave the town. It troubled him, the way she acted. Like she was afraid he would catch onto something, like she was hiding something from him. Or she was afraid one wrong word would trigger him. Maybe it would. Perhaps they would say something wrong. Something that would anger him. Although he couldn't fathom what they could possibly say to make him violent. Only physical acts would make him retaliate, and thus far, they haven't done much in the ways of attacking him.

He studied the case as he walked, increasing his optic's magnification. The case itself was uninteresting, but it did have a label on it, with writing. Like the letter Dyncik gave him, he couldn't read it. He would have to give this to the War Room, which would put it through processing, and translate it to his language. He turned the case about, and was surprised to find a familiar symbol. It was the icon in the Net for a Commander. He had seen this so many times, it was impossible to forget. Why did this case have this symbol, though? How did the sentients even know this symbol existed? The only areas it was visible at was within the Net, and at the Commander Foundry. Perhaps the case's contents would explain.

He arrived back to the base within a few minute's time, but wasn't greeted by Dyncik upon arrival. Perhaps he went out. Avol slowly weaved through the base, which was surprisingly quiet. Machines were still hustling about, assembling structures, but the sound wasn't as deafening as it usually was. He arrived at the War Room, inserting the case into a small slot. He calculated how long this would take to process. At least it was translating from English, and not Old Equestrian. Approximately one cycle. Not long, but not exactly short, either.

"Glad to see you've returned." Dyncik's voice came from behind, and Avol turned to face him.

"Quite." Avol responded. "Where were you?"

"Performing reconnaissance."

"And?"

"There's no sign of these seven commanders anywhere on the planet." Dyncik said. "Not a single structure or machine to be seen."

"Does orbital radar pick up anything?"

"No. We can't even tap into these Commander signals you're picking up." Dyncik said, his optic dimming. "Are you certain your systems aren't faulty?"

"Very. The Impostor would not suddenly gain intelligence and assault me, let alone give 'The Error' when trying to access it."

"I suppose you're right about that, Commander." Dyncik said. "Maybe what you dragged in could give us some sort of intel."

"Oh, you saw my exchange?"

"Not personally, although a few drone flybys and I can usually put together enough to make an assumption."

"Well, Twilight, the sentient, says it's a legend that I 'may find interesting.'" Dyncik let out a mechanical groan.

"With all due respect, Commander, you and I both know we don't have time to be chasing ghosts of sentient superstition."

"If a legend will interest a foreign entity with next to no knowledge of the planet, let alone the species, then I'm willing to wager it will be more important than a visit from some fairy." Avol said. "Do what you can to help the WR process the data. I'll lead further reconnaissance missions." Dyncik lightly saluted.

"Yes, Commander." Dyncik said, his tone betraying his irritation. Avol turned, walking away. With Dyncik assisting the WR, processing would be cut down to hours, at the very most six. Plenty of time to pan over the planet. He tapped into the satellite views, using them to mark out important areas. He could see Ponyville and the palace, so he marked them, along with his base. There were numerous other towns and cities throughout the land, but he only marked the ones that looked industrial.

He suddenly received a data packet from Dyncik, labeled simply 'processed'. He checked his chronometer. Two hours had passed since he assigned Dyncik. They were done much faster than expected. He opened the packet, and began to sift through the contents. Most of it was just images of the contents, with a translation overlapping the incomprehensible symbols. He first inspected the letter that came with it, on the inside of the case.

Dearest Twilight,

With recent events coming to a strange breaking point, I deem it necessary you have this. Study it carefully, and find out what you can. Starswirl wasn't one for writing without purpose. There has to be a message here. I'm entrusting you and your friends to determine what it is. I fear these 'Titans' are more than just fiction, and I have a sneaking suspicion they won't be very happy to know we haven't gone from the world.

Your friend and mentor,

Princess Celestia

The letter was brief, but still drew enough questions to keep him intrigued. Perhaps the other contents would prove to be informative. The only other visible object was a book of sorts, labeled 'Tales of the Badlands: The Titans'. He began skimming the book's images. Like the letter, this book was very short, only a two pages in length. He inspected page one, skimming it over.

The Badlands were always a land of strife and conflict, but they had never seen bloodshed to the likes of the Titans. Born not of the land, the Titans were massive, towering over all, and making even the Ursas cower in terror. They were not of flesh and blood, but of steel and fire. Their mouths glowed bright green, and they spat death, devouring everything, and leaving nothing but pools of deep blue soul essence in their wake. Even when the Titans arrived, from their land far away, they were violent and deadly. Coming with a rain of fire, they fell from the sky, and landed with the most horrible of sounds. There were seven, and they all seeked to own the world, starting in the Badlands.

Interesting. These 'Titans' were very similar in description to Commanders. Perhaps there was a scrap of truth to this. He inspected the next page.

25664171 10060562 31220171 33672440 31062543 33662151 33463440 35064151 346374

What was this? Nothing but numbers. He inspected them closer, and realized something. They were simulation codes. He decided to input one. It brought up a simple physics simulation of a tree blowing in a breeze, which was slowly becoming more and more violent. It got to the point where the tree was uprooted and carried away by the wind, at which point the area was flooded with numerous numbers. He kept note of the numbers, and exited the simulation. He tried to input the numbers as a simulation code, to no avail. Something then came to mind. He compared the numbers to that of the image of the palace recovered from the Impostor. They were exactly the same. He tried using them as coordinates, matching them up with satellite imaging. It revealed a cave entrance not far from the palace.

Now this was leading somewhere. He sent a data packet to Dyncik, including the image of the cave entrance, the coordinates, and the simulation code. He would inspect the other simulation codes later. He sent the command to the Seraph to transport him to the cave. It quickly arrived, taking him into the air. It only took a few minutes to arrive, at which point, he separated himself from the Seraph, landing outside the cave. His impact sent stone and soil skyward, and scared away a multitude of birds, and sent bats fleeing from the cave. He slowly stood from his kneeling position, moving towards the entrance. He peered inside, activating his headlights. It was a long, and deep descent. He folded his shoulder pauldrons downward, making them lie flat against his arms. This revealed the inner motor of his shoulder, but made him thinner and more aerodynamic. With that, he began his journey down the darkened tunnel, not sure of what would lie in the cavern.

Chapter Six: Lighting the Fuse

Into Darkness

He had been descending for what seemed like hours. He was too deep underground to access the Net, and by extension, his chronometer stopped working. He would have to resynchronize on the surface, but that didn't matter now. His floodlights barely cut through the darkness, revealing only more tunnel to continue down. He had to be at least two hundred kilometres underground, and this tunnel showed no sign of ending. But this HAD to be leading somewhere. A sentient wouldn't know what simulation codes were, let alone think them important enough to put in a book. Add the fact those coordinates were also supplied by the Impostor, with it's image of the palace, and this couldn't be sheer coincidence.

The tunnel finally ended, after what had to be at least three hours. It exited out into a large chamber, with a small amount of ambient light coming from a tiny gap in the ceiling. He looked around the chamber for a couple moments. There had to be something here. He folded in his Grappler, folding out his laser weapon. He charged an 'Uber' cannon shot, and sprayed it with his Lathe. He then fired it into the chamber, folding in his laser weapon and folding out his Grappler afterwards. The bright orb bounced off the walls, leaving behind large pools of glowing residue, easily illuminating the chamber. After a few moments of bouncing, it deteriorated, becoming a large puddle of energy on the floor. This cavern certainly wasn't as large as the chamber he found beneath the palace, but it wasn't anywhere near being small. In the centre of the chamber, lied a large pile of what seemed to be Commander corpses. In the far corners, there were large consoles. He recognized these, the type used by maintenance drones in the Commander Foundry. Why were they here, though?

He approached one of the consoles, looking about for a way to power it on. He couldn't find one, so he decided to assemble a small power generator. He sprayed his Lathe into the air, and watched as the generator came into reality, molecule by molecule. Once it was assembled, he unhooked a large cable, and linked it to the console. The screen came on with a loud buzzing sound. He tuned his audio inputs out of the sound, and opened his ventral cavity. He took a cable out, linking it to the console. He then began scanning through the files on the console.

There wasn't much to be found within the console's files. Most of the files were heavily corrupted, and a large chunk of code for the console was missing. He had to dedicate the entirety of his emotion core to emulate the console's missing functions. After some time of sifting through corrupted files, he decided this was wasting his time, and moved on. He pulled the cable of his ventral from the console, and carefully replaced it within, closing the armor back over it. This seemed to have been a waste of time. But was it really? He looked around the chamber, magnifying his optics to scrutinize every millimetre. After what his simulation core told him was an hour, he finally found something. A small area of the chamber wall, no bigger than his metal fist, which was slightly depressed. He walked over to it, and tapped it with a metal finger. It didn't sound hollow, but it did move ever-so slightly on each of his taps. He clenched his hand into a fist, pushing it against the button of sorts.

The stone input slide further into the wall, finally coming to a halt with a loud click. Five seconds later, a loud 'clank' came from the centre of the chamber, beneath the corpses of his former comrades. He turned about, watching with great intrigue. More clacking and clanking echoed throughout the chamber, as the pile crumpled in on itself. Eventually, the mound of inanimate steel dropped into a deep, impenetrably dark abyss. He approached the newly formed pit, peering inside. Once again, it was impossible to see into it. He turned on his floodlights, which did not help his vision in the slightest. His 'Uber' Cannon was still not recovered, so he couldn't fire off another orb. With nothing else nearby, it would have to be a "leap of faith", as the popular expression went. Where did he hear that?

No matter, he could ponder it later. Now, there was another avenue for exploration. He crouched down, slowly lowering himself into the pit, before dangling down, holding onto the ledge by his single metal hand. After many a moment's doubt and delay, he finally released his grip, plunging himself into the darkness. He fell for what his simulation core told him was twelve seconds before impacting the ground, his servos having spooled in anticipation. What he impacted was not stone, nor metal, but a sort of fluid. He brightened his floodlights, barely cutting through what seemed to be a thick fog pervading the area. He dragged his metal fist against the floor, drawing some of the fluid into his grasp, and then rose from his crouching position. It was an odd liquid, metallic in appearance and nature. A sort of slag, perhaps, although the temperature of the fluid was fluctuating, going from 198 Kelvin at the least to 467 Kelvin at the most. He swept his Lathe over the substance, inspecting its composition. Oddly enough, this substance could not be deciphered by his systems. It was seemingly beyond comparison to known elements. His sensors were picking up an energy signature, similar to that the sentients gave off, but at a much weaker wavelength coming from the substance.

A loud splash, the sound of something rising from the ocean of fluid around him. He quickly turned about, folding out his laser weapon. Motion sensors were oddly inactive. Nothing about him was moving. Then what made that sound? For some odd reason, his radio transceiver exploded into action, spitting out numerous garbled sounds and static. It was a long time since he ever intercepted radio transmissions, but this he wasn't even aiming for. His channel was the default 'standby' channel, the one assigned to him when he was first created. Wait a moment. No Commanders, not even Dyncik, knew his standby frequency. How could he be receiving a transmission, especially this far underground?

"Beyond the darkness...face your fear..." The surprisingly clear words came through the channel. The speaker was gender-neutral, a perfectly monotone and level pitched voice.

"Why are you on this frequency?" He replied to the voice.

"Bury yourself..."

"Who provided you this channel?"

"You...will..." This voice was aggravating him.

"Get off this frequency. Now."

"Find your purpose...find them..."

"Where are you hiding, coward?"

"Come...end there..." He was fed up with this entity. He began sending transmissions in specific directions, waiting for responses from each. "Closer..." The voice said. He had a vague area to go off of. He turned and began sprinting in that vague direction. The fog made it practically impossible to see where he was going. As he ran, he sent out more transmission 'pings.' He was getting closer. The fog was thinning.

"There you are!" He snarled out, his voice echoing around the cavern. He aimed his laser cannon towards the source of the transmissions. There was a skeleton of what seemed to be a horned sentient laying at the source of the voice, next to an extremely corroded radio transceiver. He stared for a few moments, before slowly lowering his weapon.

"You found me..." Found?

"Where are you?" He said it more as a statement than a question. The voice didn't respond this time. The transceiver fell silent, static and other noises coming to a halt. The cavern fell silent. He crouched down, bringing himself closer to the skeleton. This couldn't have been the source. It was impossible, wasn't it? A loud bellow bounced off the cavern walls. He quickly turned about, aiming his weapon into the inky darkness. No time to ponder it. Loud splashes, the fluid and the ground beneath it quivered with each resounding footfall. The chamber suddenly illuminated by numerous flames, sprouting up from beneath the fluid. Large trails of colored fire spread about the cavern. Oddly colored flames, magenta, green, teal, and darkened yellow. The source of the noise came into view.

A towering machine, which stood upon four tall, powerful and thin legs, so tall he only came up to the middle of their lower portions. One bright white optic, perched upon a Theta-styled head, was staring at him. In the centre of it's body, was a large turret, similar in design to a Thanatos apparatus, however on an incredibly minuscule scale. The machine's vents flared, and it let out another bellow, quickly raising a lanky leg above its body, and bringing it down quickly towards him. He lept out of the way, the machine's leg impacting a millisecond after he was out of harm's way. Another loud roar from the machine, and multiple Dox dashed out of the remaining puddles of darkness in the corners of the chamber. He was outnumbered, now. He looked about, observing the hostile machines gather around him. He couldn't fight his way out of this one. Motion sensors were lighting up with even more machines approaching from further tunnels.

"Through the envious fire...lies freedom..." The voice garbled over the transmission. Something was trying to block out this voice, jam its messages. He quickly looked about. Envious fire. Green. He spotted what he was searching for, a massive torrent of flame straddling the far wall. In his way, however, stood the tall machine. Two Dox began approaching behind him. He quickly drove fuel to his thrusters, igniting the streams. This scorched the two Dox behind him, he heard their cores quickly overheat and explode. With that, he dashed forward, as laser fire exploded around him. Multiple beams grazed his armor, and even more actually made impact, scorching the surface of his thick armor plate. The tall machine bellowed, flaring its vents and raising a leg into the air. It threw it down towards him, and he narrowly avoided with a deft lunge to his right.

He reached the torrent of green flame, and dove through it. He surprisingly didn't smash into solid rock, but through rotted wood. He turned about to have a quick glance. A massive wooden floodgate, as it would appear. It was clearly no longer serving its purpose, as the odd fluid was cascading out from the breach, quickly pouring through the ahead caverns. He turned and continued down the tunnel. He had to move with haste, especially with the machines following close behind. Motion sensors indicated they had just passed the broken floodgate. He came to a fork in the tunnel, quickly deciding to go to the right. It led to another tunnel, with a fast-flowing underwater river. This water had to be coming from somewhere. But, it also had to be going somewhere. He looked up the stream, his floodlights illuminating small waterfalls, which seemed to build a staircase of treacherous footholds. Then he looked downstream. It continued deeper into the darkness, but would be much easier to maneuver.

He idled for a few moments, before continuing downstream. Time was one thing he did not have. His motion sensors told him his pursuers had went upstream. That would only stall them for so long. He continued dashing downstream, putting as much distance between him and his opposition as possible. His floodlights were only revealing more twisting, damp tunnels. Eventually, the cramped tunnels opened up into a large ravine of sorts. The river was travelling at the bottom, with numerous cliff overlooks. He felt watched from these vantage points, almost hunted. He continued down the estuary, when suddenly a familiar noise caught his inputs. The bellow from the cavern, followed by numerous thumps.

He looked up onto the overlooks, and saw the machine following him. Its bright white optic watched him from the vantage, its lanky legs hardly straining as it kept perfect pace with him. A loud banshee scream came from the machine, as its bottom turret flared, the numerous Catalyst amplifiers firing off. The miniature Thanatos Apparatus fired, spitting out a large torrent of bright blue plasma, slicing through a collection of stalactites on the roof. The large chunks of rock fell, landing directly on him, shattering his protective screens and rattling his chassis. The top of his metal head caved in on itself, luckily not damaging his central intelligence, but marring one of his visual processors, causing his vision to corrupt. It wasn't as serious as the corruptions during the Impostor battle, but it still made things much more complicated. He opened one of his shoulder silos, firing off a barrage of missiles towards the machine. A number of the hundred missiles from the silo made their mark, smashing into the relatively small body of the machine, to no visual effect.

"Drown your worries...forge the future..." Water. Heat. He followed the river into a tunnel to his right, which led into a large chamber with massive pools of magma. Follow the water. The river had seemingly created a path for itself through the molten gauntlet, twisting and turning like a serpent, before finally leaving the searing, steam-filled cavern. He kept sprinting, following the now-boiling underground river. He didn't glance back, but simply watched his motion sensors, his pursuers losing all identity, and instead becoming data points, signatures which were in never-ending stalking of him. He dove out of the molten chamber, opening his vents to pull in the deathly cold air in the rest of the tunnels, chilling his central core of the fifty extra degrees it gained from the time near the magma.

He continued following the stream for another two minutes, all the while hearing the tell-tale thump of the tall machine's footfalls, before he finally began to see light. He disabled his headlights, quickly closing the distance between him and his apparent freedom. It was a small opening, no larger than Fluttershy's cottage. Quite large for sentients, but disappointingly underwhelming for him. He took a few steps back, opening both shoulder silos. He would have to distort the natural landscape, but that didn't matter now. He had to get back to the base. He fired off a volley of ten missiles, blasting away the rock from the opening. He then ran forward, leaping out of the newly created gateway to freedom. He fired off his thrusters, slowing his descent. Wherever he was, was incredibly far from the cave entrance. He reestablished a link with the Net, finding his location relative to the entrance. Two hundred twenty kilometres from the entrance. He looked about nearby, and found a large number of sentients, staring at him as they basked in what seemed to be a large hot spring. He then returned his attention to the gaping hole he had just emerged from. The tall machine peeked out of the hole, letting out another bellow, before returning to the darkness.

He called out to the Seraph, which quickly arrived and took hold of him, taking him into the sky, bound for the base. He received a report from Dyncik over the Net. Multiple reported enemy movements. Sentient refugees were flocking to Ponyville from distant cities, including a 'Manehatten', 'Baltimare', and even a 'Las Pegasus'. The seven Commander signals were now being detected by sensors, at an incredibly high wavelength, as if taunting him and his forces. Fortunately, no attacks had taken place, at least not for the moment, despite what satellite imaging could only describe as a spontaneous hostile takeover of most major cities, excluding the palace. He would have time to be confused if he wasn't so angry. The second the Seraph arrived at the base, he pried himself from it's grasp, running through the crowded and swarming staging area to find Dyncik.

"There you are." He snarled upon finding his one-optic'd second-in-command.

"I was about to say quite the same, Commander. Gre-"

"Great minds think alike, yes." Avol interrupted, stepping forward. "That isn't what's important."

"Oh?" Dyncik's optic dimmed.

"Your report, have you already forgotten?"

"Ah, yes. That." Dyncik said. "We've already prepared forces for any possible contingency."

"I'm expecting a 'however' fairly soon."

"I was getting to that, Commander." Dyncik paused, before continuing. "However, I'm not certain that this 'Ponyville' is capable of supporting the amount of refugees that are arriving."

"They can be left to their ignorant folly." Avol responded. "Was the appearance of these occupation forces as sudden as the satellite data makes them appear to be?"

"Orbital radar went down at exactly thirteen twenty three hundred hours. At fourteen hundred hours, orbital coverage was restored, and revealed these hostile garrisons at the major cities. Refugees began arriving at fifteen hundred hours."

"Understood. Keep heavy observation on these newly occupied cities. Pin down the nearest Commander signal. I want to take the fight to them, before they have the chance to strike." Thirty seven minutes of preparation. It was not unheard of, and yet, this seemed too perfect. They were prepared for this. The enemy Commanders have been expecting this, and know just how to go about the business. Tapping into the Impostor, disabling orbital surveillance. It was going too well for them. "Harden the Net defenses, change all encryption keys, recode the entire system if you have to. I don't want them having access to anything they shouldn't."

"Affirmative, Commander, and what will you occupy yourself with?"

"Hardening the perimeter around Ponyville. It is close enough to act as a large staging area for our forces. As you may have noticed, this area is getting increasingly crowded."

"And you think boarding with sentients will improve that situation?"

"Simple. They give up their land for their own survival."

"I don't think that's a very fair trade."

"I didn't program you to debate ethics with me." He said, stepping closer to Dyncik. "Go about your duties, lest I go about them for you."

Dyncik let out a long sigh. "Understood, Commander." He said, turning and heading towards one of the many power plants for the facilities. Avol then turned and began moving towards Ponyville, summoning a group of fabricators to follow him. A large squadron of Hummingbirds flew overhead, followed by heavily modified Bumblebee carpet-bombers, their engines screaming. This was true preparation for war. He and his party of fabricators arrived at the town, being greeted by confused and frightened sentients. He sent the fabricators on their way, as they began assembling a massive wall around the settlement, large laser towers, and landmines.

"Hiya!" The voice pierced his audio inputs' attempts to drown out the surroundings. He looked down towards its source to once again find the pink sentient, her bright blue eyes staring up at him with curiosity and blissful ignorance. This sentient had a sort of child-like innocence to her, completely unaware of his nature. "Didja hear that big screamin'?"

"Quite." He replied.

"It hurt my ears! Actually, they still hurt. A lot!" She sat back onto her haunches, rubbing her ears with her forelegs, and closing her eyes. "Owowowow." Once again, she had silenced him, with her odd nature and mannerisms. He went to leave, and she called out to him. "Hey! Where ya goin'?"

"To find an individual associated with the title Twilight." He was certain he was being redundant, but it didn't matter. He got his point across.

"Twilight?" She asked, seemingly rhetorical. "I know who Twilight is!" She shouted, a wide grin crossing her face. She wasn't very annoying or hate-worthy, just loud and childish.

"Do you?" He asked, being just as rhetorical, and continuing through the town, heading towards the crystalline tree structure.

"Yeah! She's like my BESTEST friend! Except for my other four bestest friends, Rain-" He tuned her out. Whatever she was talking about was likely of little consequence. He would wait until she was done speaking to ask her something else. Pausing just outside of Twilight's odd structure, he crouched down, tapping the door with a metal finger. While he waited, he periodically glanced over to the pink sentient. She was still talking, her tail twitching violently. She gasped, before talking very frantically. This was somewhat amusing to him, especially without any sound.

After about two minutes, the door opened, Twilight peering out. "Hello." She simply stated, her ears folded against her head. Like before, there was this fearful air about her. The aircraft pass-over must've had her on edge. He couldn't say he blamed her. "Do you need something?" She asked.

"No." She started to close the door, but he grabbed hold of it, and kept it open. "I came here to inform you of a occupation of sorts."

"I saw. You're walling us in?" She said, this air of terror and suspicion still floating about her.

"It is for your, and other resident's own eudaemonia."

"Did you tell the Princesses about this?" Princesses? He was under the impression that Twilight and Celestia were the only ones.

"No. Should you have the readily accessible means, it would be appreciated if you could transfer this information to them." Twilight didn't respond, but simply closed the door. He had an inkling that she was growing increasingly suspicious of him and his forces. In a way, he hated her for that. But in retrospect, it wasn't something he could blame her with. She was right to be suspicious, he wasn't doing this for their benefit, but rather for his own. The increased security of the town would be just a side effect. He looked about for the pink sentient, but was unable to find her. Where had she run off to?

He stood from his crouching position, looking about. It was of little importance, yet it did puzzle him very much. He turned, heading back towards the base. He climbed over the newly erected wall, looking back over the recent fortress. Impressive and imposing. If it weren't his, he would think twice before attacking. He turned, heading back to the base. Upon arrival, he immediately confronted Dyncik.

"How went the improvements?"

"Well enough, seeing as you're kind enough to ask."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means we encountered no problems. Maintenance went well, and security has been updated to your standards." Dyncik growled.

"This is standard protocol Dyncik. This planet is just like any other."

"It's not though, Commander."

"Nonsense. We've been performing this for nearly a thousand years, you and I. It's high time you start acting like it."

Dyncik remained silent for some time, before dimming his optic and turning away. "You'll see I'm right about this." Dyncik walked away, taking with him a small cohort of fabricators. Whatever was wrong with him? Avol turned, approaching the War Room, and climbing inside. He lied down, and began processing what had happened thus far. What struck him most odd, however, was Dyncik's sudden change of behavior. He seemed more, for a lack of a better word, sentient. More worrying, more emotion-driven. It didn't matter. He would be going to battle tomorrow. Taking the fight to these hidden Commanders, and plummeting yet another planet into a war they never asked for. How poetic. He began deactivating his systems, setting them into standby. Tomorrow would be another day. Another war. Another planet ruined.