Fear of The Unknown

by Onyx1998

Chapters

War Torn (2.2 Edited 25/02/15)
Hunted (1.0)
Epilogue (1.0)
Alternate Ending 1: In Which The Sniper Succeeds

War Torn (2.2 Edited 25/02/15)

A thousand needles scraped along a bronze landscape, their shrill tinnitus ringing and rattling across their demented landscape as they, with fervent resolution, resolved to drown him out of this hell into a black bile to which he could escape from his woe. Gunfire rattled the air as yet another squadron, broken as his was, fulfilled their promise of sacrifice. This had become a common sight over the months; the once great Equestrian’ legions reduced to a paltry set of scattered survivors, now rebelling more out of habit than will. They would all soon die anyway.

Enemy forces now patrolled freely through the streets searching for the survivors they knew to be hiding among the buildings. Not that there were many buildings left. The war had taken it's toll on the once bright and lively town. At one time the streets were alive with ponies selling food, doing shopping or just occasionally going out for the peace of mind the quiet town once provided. Now the only thing left of that life was the occasional picture or painting lying among the rubble.

The battle was lost to Equestria in those first fateful 48 hours. The human soldiers hit hard and fast; The guard never stood a chance. The main forces massacred the guard, Equestria must have lost at least 50 guards in the first 5 minutes alone. The humans barely took any casualties at all.

He was briefly brought forth from his reflection by the piece of flaming debris that had violently crashed into one of the many craters that now pocketed the once bustling town square, specifically HIS crater. The trademark symbol of their destruction now ironically served as a welcome reprieve to his dank and cold fur which was soaked in some strange black liquid that came from the carriage he shared the crater with. The sudden heat that came from the puddle at the bottom of the crater told him it was time to leave.

On the first night a small force of Luna's night guard arrived in darkness and carried out night raids against the invading forces to slow them down. But even the thestrals, trained in the arts of stealth and precision were no match for the humans. They told of some unseen combatant, which kept shooting them from the sky. Occasionally, the human's notoriously loud firearms were silenced by the explosions around town, this foe had been trained in warfare much more differently from the more common ground troops. This foe was accurate, this foe was invisible, this foe was deadly. And there was nothing that theysurviving groups of the guard could do about them.

Needless to say, over time the guard was pummeled by infantry, overpowered by artillery and hunted by the unseen soldiers. Even when they used ambush techniques and managed to overcome superior tactics and technology, they would almost immediately be killed by the armoured carriages; They were doomed to die as soon as they fired their first crossbow bolt or magic spell. Ever since the first two days of fighting that's generally how it went.

The crackling and sputtering of the dying flames became more apparent as the fighting simmered away, this were nowhere near the all out war that had transpired in Ponyville before, but slowly dying skirmishes popped up every now and again when the broken bands of different guards felt like making a move. But they would ultimately fail against unfavorable odds, and succumb to the same fate as their fellows. Now all that was left of the 800 posted to Ponyville was a small force barely worthy of the name 'Resistance'. No more than 20 or so crippled guards shuffling around and hoping to Celestia that they go unnoticed. It was a dark time indeed.

Flash Flood, an Unicorn guard, crawled through the wreckage of a flattened building near to what used to be the center of Ponyville. His body was coated in dirt, dust and grime as he gradually pulled his body forward through the rubble. His shredded torso armour barely protected him anymore and he had lost his helmet to a collapsing building the night before. His fur was matted in places, the blood of his fallen comrades who had been slaughtered in those initial first hours of the battle had stained his once clean white coat.

He had no idea why he was here, fighting the war and so on. Once upon a time, humans conversed with the ponies through portal devices and complicated inter dimensional spells crafted by none other than the alicorn princesses themselves. But slowly things deteriorated and it was not known why they did so. In a conference on the relationships between the two species, Princess Celestia said that:
"I believe tension and arguments between Human nations are common. Recently thing have become rather heated and I think it wise to distance ourselves as far from these issues as possible. I do not wish to involve Equestria in matters far beyond my control as doing so may bring nothing but ruin"

Then one day they arrived in full force, first trying to evict ponies from their homes to take their settlements. Performing threatening acts against Equestria and it's ponies. Eventually the royal princesses took action and confrontation broke out. It had not been wanted by either side, but it happened, none of the survivors spoke of the incident, excepting one who shared the story with Celestia so that she could finally get to the bottom of what was happening. Nopony knew what had been shared in their common privacy, but the guard emerged from the throne room in tears and Celestia refused to talk about what had been said.

He had heard so many stories behind the curtain that he had to conclude that few ponies in Equestria really knew exactly why, except for the Humans and princesses of course. The reasons he had heard included: The humans had sapped their planet dry of natural resources and their technology, as advanced as it was, was not able to adapt fast enough to the few readily available natural resources of energy they had left. And that they were constantly fighting over oil fields and such. Other ponies told that the population of humans had spiraled out of control and their world could no longer support them. Causing land wars between neighboring countries.

And then there was the theory that it was a mixture of the two, with a few variables added in. He had thought about these stories and what they implied, It seemed to him that the human race was old. Old to the point of surpassing their civilisation that amounted to around 3000 years of age at their current point in time. And judging by the technology they wielded, he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. The evidence was not just in the physical things though. Flood could see the experience in their tactics; Cold, Calculated, Machine-like.

The smell of Burning copper and ash filled the air and tickled his snout as he shuffled slowly through the chunks of wood and brick that was arranged in a discordant mountain. Bits of glass dotted the ruins and bore sharpened edges simply daring Flash Flood to crawl across them. He avoided them where he could and clenched his teeth shut when he couldn't.

He reached a sloped piece of rubble and he grimaced. He was too tired to be dragging his body around like he was, let alone start hauling it up a pile of rusty nails and splintered wood. He crawled up anyway. It was wide enough to act as a support, but he questioned its stability when his full weight bore down on the structure; It creaked painfully, and swayed with the slightest breezes he’d previously foolishly ignored. The peaks exaggerated gyrations making him feel nauseous, he elected to scramble up quickly before he was noticed. Before long he reached the top and lay there with a limp body and exhausted mind.He struggled to keep a content sigh trapped, fearing the attention of the enemy which lay not fifty yards ahead. He counted twenty men; some of whom were drinking from their canteens as others stood watch. Deadly weapons at the ready, their eyes scoured over the landscape, guiding their weapons along toward potential prey.

He kept a look out for other survivors, using the nylon strap and the magic stick it held to keep the unarmored portion of his body off the shattered remains of lattice and window, he raised him head over the top of the mountain. It honestly smelled of fire and smoke, but the weight it took of the glass made the smell well worth bearing. He’d acquired it from a human he caught off guard "-Heh, caught off 'guard'...-" He thought to himself. "-...How ironic.-" He saw the two fractions of the group switch, the sentries resting to get water, and the drinkers going on sentry duty. That was an incredibly annoying aspect about them, they were very paranoid and you would be tremendously lucky to catch one with his guard down. They were constantly vigilant and rarely rested without an over-watch of some kind.

He wanted to take the rifle from his side and kill as many of them as he could. But his hooves began violently shaking mid-way across the sling they used as a guide towards retribution, they began to shake as he remembered what happened to Sharp Eyes. A flash of light rushed forth to meet its target The spell missed, and his failure met with a flash of light and a wall painted with his broken skull. These new weapons, and the mindsets behind them held no honor, no mercy. His friend was dead, there was no time for mourning or comfort. This fact was presented within the painful silence of this uncaring universe so suddenly that the image of sharps cocky smile and obnoxious personality still imprinted on his mind, was trying to attach itself with some sort of grotesque coherency to the mangled and still form that he desperately refused to believe was his friend.

However, the fact was, Sharps was dead; he would never know why he made himself the target to such a dishonorable and disgustingly clinical death. 'why didn't you just kill them sharps, why did you try and become the distraction, you saw what they could do.' A sight Flash Flood would never forget as long as he lived. One second Sharps was alive and well next to him, but the next....

Flood stopped trying to retrieve the rifle as he brought his hooves up to shakily wipe away his brimming tears. The fighting had been so terrible and sometimes he was left in silence to think about the fragility of life and just how quickly it can be taken away.

"Oh, Sharps'..." he mumbled quietly to himself. "...I only wish it could’ve been me instead. What am I going to say to them, Sharps'?" He watched the tears roll down his hoof and drop onto the ground below. He held his hoof to his forehead to stop them trembling and squeezed his eyes shut as the thoughts and memories of his old friend rushed through his mind as he desperately tried to hold on to them like the precious treasures they had become. It was that incident, that content smile on sharps face before he died, that taught him, It wasn’t a matter of weather he would ever leave this war, but of weather this war would ever leave him.

The memories faded and Flood tensed as he heard gunshots, close and loud. He turned his attention back to the patrol ahead where the sentries were firing on a pair of unicorns casting defensive spells. A high pitched sound blasted across the landscape, following the bullets that made it. They landed in the surrounding area with 'thud's and soon the riflemen stopped firing, seeing the futility of the action.

Flood smiled with delight as he thought for a moment that his two fellow guards might get away for once. The two ponies clambered out of the ruins and began to head behind the building to break the line of sight. But then, a low rumbling shook and swayed his perch causing his Armour and stick to grind the glass beneath them in a worryingly loud process. This sound he recognized too well, the noise made by impervious and deadly carriages faded in after the gunfire stopped and around the corner, the huge grey beast appeared. On it's side was the labeling; 'Scorpion'.

Flash Flood ducked back behind his cover landing painfully onto the pile so that he could only just see over the top as he reverted his eyes to the desperate unicorns attempting to escape through the back of the building. One was holding a magical shield as the other pushed clumps of debris out of the way with telekinesis. Flood watched helplessly as the vehicle rolled up and stopped next to the patrol of human infantry, it's cannon rotated with an anguishing composure to aim directly at the now panicking guards. The shielder abandoned his now obsolete position in favor of frantically clearing an escape path among the debris.

As they scrambled to escape, Flood smiled in relief as the guards looked to have been lucky this time. However the happy expression was wiped violently from his face as the carriage opened fire on the collapsed building before the two could fully get into cover.

*Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam* The dust coloured box with sharp angles, indiscriminate extremities of unknown function, and ugly outlines which reached out away from the machine as if bearing down on the entire world with threats groaned as the dirt and debris at the entrance to the escape path exploded into clouds of dust and wood chips, and just for a moment Flood thought he could see a red tint to the dense mist. No, surely they escaped, this was just his mind putting unnecessary labels to red clay. Then there was an eerie quiet as the echo of the explosions sounded off into the distance, bouncing off' the sides of the mountains and drowning out the inferior noises that had been cracking through the residue of war.

As the echos slowly faded away, Flood opened his teary eyes with an equally slow pace. For a moment there was silence and he thought that the humans may have noticed him and were creeping up on him as he hid away. But as he froze still and listened for the un-mistakable *Thud-Thud* of the bipedal boots impacting ground, he dismissed the feeling as a product of fear and passed it off.

Slowly but surely, he peeked his head over his cover and saw that the humans were inspecting what was left of the unicorns. The odd piece of charred horn or bones with a couple of armour shards here and there. The low rumble of the carriage's engine roared back to full kick as it traveled forward, picking up speed and driving around the ruins of Flood's hiding place and rounding a corner to head off somewhere else in the town.

Not long after, the foot patrol made their way off as well. Flash Flood watched in a pregnant silence as they walked vigilantly away, looking all around for any threats to their operation as they went. He watched them travel down the far side of the street and turn the corner to exit the square one by one as they patrolled off to assist others of their kind deal with larger groups of resistance that had now popped up.

Once the last of them disappeared around the corner he immediately awarded his right hoof reprieve and collapsed the left side of his body off the gun and onto the splinters and glass, but the shuddering release of the breath he couldn't remember holding and the friction it caused between his body and the shrapnel in his armour soon provided adequate motivation for his re commitment to his portable island. letting his head fall into his hooves as he rubbed his temples forcefully he tried vainly to breathe quietly and keep from crying, ‘it never gets any easier’. His pounding head, a constant reminder of his exhausted state only intensified with the glaring heat being brought down upon his body.

The heat was what bothered him most, yes, It was the heat. The heat was universal, it couldn't be removed like the sand, It couldn't be swatted away like the flies, but worst of all It was out of his control; he could at any moment get up shake off the dust from his fur, tell the flies to fuck off and crack his joints in orgasmic bliss, choosing to spend the last moments of his life in that suspended state of celestial nirvana. However, no matter what he did, should he blow his cover he would still die hot, burning with the ember fog which advanced over the landscape from the direction of the latest explosion.

There he sat, counting the seconds of torturous conditions as he dreamt of freedom, but dreams would get him nowhere, now was the time to embrace reality and come to action. The chances of escaping were slim, Enemy eyes were everywhere, miles away in the nearby plateau, hidden in plain sight and their eyes peering through the lattice fences, looking down from through windows, and through their aims, ‘his muzzle remorselessly pointed at sharps eye’. And with the carriages and the silent hunters stalking the streets there was so little possibility that he could make it out alive there was almost no point trying. He felt so so tired, the heat wasn’t that bad was it?
"buck..." He shouted under his breath , adding yet another set of marks to his mental tally. How many had he seen meet this fate? He had lost count before the end of the first night, but he realised it must have been an extortionate number.

‘...Why did I join the guard, It was never meant to be this way’ He mentally recited the Rules of combat as well as infantry tactics. They had gone over it extensively but they never covered warfare like this. “No, I won’t give up, not like this” He whispered with all of the determination and conviction he could muster, collapsing as the last reserves of control he had evaporated on the breath of that last assurance and floated up to dissipate amongst the smoke, and embers. He rested there wondering How the war had ruined his life. He could have been sitting back home , drinking wine , laughing at his uncles worn “jokes” on the state of dads mane, stealing his sisters piece of cake when she wasn’t looking, with sharp eyes help of course, and of course trying to suppress a headache around the innocent persona sharps put around his family to make him look bad.

But these things were not to be, as here he was fighting for his life in a war he barely understood. He chuckled to himself and picked his weary body off' the ground and took a deep breath. "-Come on, Flash Flood! Pull yourself together!-" He thought to himself. "-You're a guard not a cry-foal, think about what you're doing!-"

He considered all avenues of survival, no matter how low they were, and came to think that if he stayed he would die anyway. So he decided it was worth giving it a shot, besides, somepony had to get back to the Ponyville FOB a few miles northwest toward Canterlot to let the superiors know of the situation. He gingerly lowered himself from the rubble and steeled himself as he steadied his breathing to make sure he was ready to undertake an escape attempt. He took a look around the town square and contemplated his surroundings; Four exit-ways out of the town center existed and considering most of the buildings were either flattened or unstable , he was going to have very little cover.

He leaned out of his cover and looked northwest, where he needed to go if he was to escape as quickly as possible. There were a few out-standing buildings still managing to hold themselves up among the plethora of rubble piles that lined the streets. Most of these buildings were situated on the left side of the street so he made the decision that he would head there first. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the relatively safe hiding place and out into the open.

The sniper rested in his birds nest at the top of a bell-tower, at the northwest end of the town. His weapon rested in-between two sets of sandbags that he dragged up to make some cover for himself. He scoured the streets shadowing the squadrons as they diligently searched the town leaving no rock unturned as they checked and double checked every single part of the town he could provide support for from his hiding spot.

His crosshairs left the flattened area east of the town center to look at the center itself. The scopes field of view transitioned slowly over the many houses and piles of rubble that dotted the square, as he kept his wits about him, prepared to lock onto anything his ever sharp eyes ever caught sight of. As he arrived at the remains of an old confectionery store dead center in the middle of town he spotted a team of infantrymen and an machine moving out of the area to move on in their patrol after eliminating a small group of guards hiding in a half destroyed building.

He watched them leave and as he was doing so, he thought a light had shone into his scope, standing out from the embers reflected lights which twinkled from the glass littered streets through it’s strange properties. It reached him through a crack in the monolith of rubble opposite the building. His spotter must have seen it too, as he pointed at the rubble and whispered a quick notice to him. To which he confirmed and both rested their sights on what was left of the building. He moved his crosshair over to get a better look as he remembered the golden armour worn by Equestria's day guards. As his focus increased, he soon saw that the gold patch had some texture and moved rhythmically with what could be described as a body breathing.

He exhaled and steadied himself, he knew he had found a target after hours. He lay there waiting for the pony to reveal itself, idly noticing the jittery, irregular and sickly way the reflection moved in time with the suns setting. But he was a trained marksman, his patience would not be swayed.

His patience paid off as the pony moved out from it's hiding spot to make it's way to the other side of the street. He slowly centered his crosshairs as they swayed gently left and right. It began to walk across the road, it's head darting about to take in it's surroundings as it went.

The pony made it to the middle of the road before he could get a good shot. He leaned into his rifle and steadied himself. The crosshairs hovered over the pony's 'upper' body and around the heart and lungs as he prepared to take the shot. He was squeezing the trigger and about to pull it all the way down as something black and noisy interrupted his perfectly aligned shot.

He retracted from his optics to see a scout helicopter had just strafed in front of his line of sight. His face of concentration broke apart into one of frustration as he glared at the helicopter and cast a quick glance to his spotter. The spotter looked back at him and shrugged before taking up his tactical binoculars again. The sniper watched the helicopter for a second with an expression of tested patience as he waited for it to move.

Flash Flood's eyes went wide as he saw the flying metal beast strafe above a set of flattened houses in front of him and he immediately darted the rest of the way to the opposite side of the street. The loud buzzing unnerved him. As he reached the other side, he leapt over a pile of rubble, lying down on the other side to hide from the flying monster. It hovered there for a short time and Flood simply still as it rotated on the spot and checked the area. The embers and smoke underneath it flowing towards him in waves which he hoped provided cover.

"-Please don't see me...-" He pleaded not daring to utter the words, even over the monstrosities rumbling, he had barely gotten across the street and already, he was in danger of being torn apart by the human's war machines. He stayed quiet and frozen like a statue as the drone continued. He was starting to wonder how long the war machine was going to stay when the noise picked up and the machine tilted forward as it sped away over the buildings to go provide support against the resistance But Flood still didn't move, the flying things were even more terrifying than the carriages, Helicopters, he believed the humans called them. They could move fast and hover. Their weapons weren't as powerful as the carriages but their weapon's stupendous fire rate and the machine's maneuverability made them a fearful opponent indeed. It was now he started to lament his, and even Equestria’s place in this war.

A few moments later, he popped his head over the small piece of cover and looked around trying to see through the wall of smoke and ash in front of him. Satisfied with the lack of danger he stood back up with a heavy but careful sigh. Walking around his cover he made his way over to the corner, where a house still somewhat intact. He crept up to the door and stopped at it's side, stacking up by himself ready to breach.

He took his stolen rifle in his magical grip and poked the barrel through the small gap in-between the door and frame. Levering it open a bit, he put his eye to the sights and rotated to open the door a little. He could see nopony or human inside so he took the barrel out of the gap and instead used it to push open the door. it creaked open painfully slowly and loudly Flood grimaced as he listened to the noise that could easily be the last one he hears. Once it was open he quickly scooted inside and hid behind the door silently, listening for the approach of enemy troops.

Luckily for him, the silence was still just as prominent as before. The 'Ratatat' of distant gunfire rattled in the air and Flood blinked tiredly. He turned around and searched the thankfully smokeless room, and saw an unblocked staircase leading up to a second tier, and seeing no other route away from the building, he decided to go up. He walked over and tested his weight on the stairs. He decided to use the old 'side of the step' method in order to make as little noise as possible when climbing. And up he went.

Each step revealed the worn history of the steps as he made his way upward. He managed to make it to the top without incident and peeked his face over the lip of the stairs to make sure it was clear. The room upstairs was just as barren, grey and dusty looking as if it hadn't been cared for in centuries. Flood stepped onto the upper floor and looked around for anything valuable, but once again there was nothing of interest.

He walked to an open doorway trying to quiet his thudding hooves and peeked around the side of the room, the sight making him groan with frustration. That part of the building had completely fallen away, leaving only a small shelf space which bridged the gap between the two doors, it looked to be an unstable platform which by the look of it, may just be able to take his weight.

He walked into the doorway and over to where the floor fell away. He took a deep breath and rose up onto his hinds as he leaned his underside as close to the wall as he possibly could. Shuffling sideways, he edged his way closer to the other side incredibly slowly, almost nerve racking so. About halfway across his hoof landed on some loose material and slipped off, causing some debris to fall away onto the ground below where a large pile of gravel existed. He regained his balance and slammed himself back against the wall, while his chest heaved and he panted with the adrenaline running through his veins. Flood quickly brought himself back together and started shimmying to the other side again.

He arrived with no further incident and found sufficient space to let himself fall back to the natural all fours as he rested the hinds from carrying his entire weight. After shaking out his legs he walked over to the next half destroyed doorway. A small jump existed from his floor to its unstable opposite, and as he was thinking about it, another rattle of shots rung out, closer this time. He turned his head and scoured the area behind him for any points of exposure to some human who may have been watching.

Now that he thought about it, all this time he had been skulking around like he was in a “Daring Doo” novel and had yet to be spotted. Either he was very lucky or something out there was very patient. This brought him back to think about the silent hunters that were somewhere in the ruins of Ponyville, watching, waiting, hunting him and his comrades. He had seen them shoot pegasi and thestrals from the sky like a griffon would on a skeet shooting day. Of course he had never seen them in actual form, only their scarily accurate shots and the large holes left in the unfortunate victims.

"Sometimes I wonder..." He said in-between breaths. "... Why haven't we got weapons like these yet?" He shifted his shoulder to move the rifle resting against it and he gave it a quick glance. It looked strangely beautiful as well as terrifying with it's black coating and reflective materials. This only served to remind him that he was in a war-zone, and he should be more careful. And he mentally kicked himself for not thinking about it earlier. All this time somehuman could have been watching him, and he would have had no clue…

He peered around the open doorway once more, this time with decreased pace and increased care. The gap in-between the side of his current house and the open wall to the next was doable and in no way posed a threat to him. It was the floor on the other side that worried him; It was cracked and several places and barely had any support as the bottom floor looked to have been largely blown out and burnt He decided to go for it, and as he stepped back, he took a deep breath. He then let it out again before sprinting forward through the open hole in the wall and jumped to the other building.

As he was gliding through the air, a loud 'BANG' rang out and a high pitch pressure induced noise smashed his ears and he lost his sense of balance mid air. He hit the edge of the floor and it crumbled away underneath him. Confused and slightly disoriented, he scrambled for grip and kicked at the ground wildly, spurred to action by the vertigo and the licking heat of the floating embers below.

Finally, his back hoof caught on the lower window and he managed to save himself from falling to the ground below and breaking something, He pushed away from the the exposed gap and tried to steady his off-beat breathing as he found a safe spot to chill for a second. He saw something on the wall near to where he had jumped, a black impact hole in the wall and a rather large one at that. Inside was a smoking object that had just hit the wall projected at high velocity.

It took a while for it to hit him, but when it did he felt like his chances of escape were reduced from minute to molecular as he began to tremble. The shot that had hit the wall and narrowly missed his head was fired by one of the silent hunters. Judging by the hoof sized hole in the brick he guessed it would have surely obliterated his head if it had hit.

He came to the realisation that he was being watched, hunted down by the invisible foe that stalked the senses of every surviving guard in the town. He didn't think it possible before, but now he knew. It was strange what such realizations did to a pony, rather than increase his anxiety, the situation seemed to have a calming effect, as if the certainty of the source of death had given him something to focus on, the fact that something was focusing on him.

Perhaps this war would leave him sooner than he thought.

Hunted (1.0)

Flood jumped to his hooves, his heart beginning to pound as he realised that he was being hunted. He stood up quickly and whirled around to check and see if any parts of his body were exposed to the outside. He turned to the street side of the barely standing platform and saw that several windows lined the wall. He looked out of each one, systematically working his way from right to left. Each of the windows to his right were out of the equation, as judging by the angle of which the hunter's shot had hit the wall, none of the buildings looking out from them would have provided the proper angle to make the shot possible.

Then he came the to the leftmost window, and as he looked outside he saw something different from the others. Through this window he could see a bell-tower residing at the other end of the town at the suburbs. He scoured the tower for signs of a hunter and came to an opening near the top of the tower, on a porch where the bell was visible. There he saw a collection of tan coloured bags arranged at both sides of the porch that could be used for cover to hide behind. Then something clicked in his head.

Hunters...

Hiding...

"Buck!" He exclaimed louder than he really should have done, and threw himself to the floor to break the line of sight. Just as he did so, a second projectile narrowly missed his head and another high pitch pressure wave hit his ear drums followed by the loud gunshot that he had come to fear. The shot hit the wall at the other side of the second tier and blew out a small hole in the wall, allowing some rays of light to shine through into the room, making the floating dust visible in them.

For a second he thought he was safe as he started to collect his thoughts. But the feeling was mislead, as another gunshot racked the air and blasted a hole in the already weak brick-work underneath the window. Pieces of brick and mortar showered him as he covered his face with his hooves, the shards of hardened clay bouncing off' his worn gold shoes making tinkering sounds as they ricocheted away. One particularly hard piece of shrapnel collided with his armour and made a rather large dent before sparking and bouncing off.

After the third shot Flood came to his senses and started to crawl away from his position. Another shot hit the crippled section of wall and traveled through to embed itself in the floor and kick up a small plume of dust, causing it swirl around before coming settle. The shot caused enough damage to the half destroyed section of wall for it to fall away. Bricks crumbled behind Flood and dropped off to the ground outside to reveal to the hunter that he was no longer there.

The air fell silent apart from the sounds of armour scraping and scratching against the brick-work as Flood crawled up to the wall and sat down. His 'sit' was more of a lean and he rested all of his weight on the wall. Some of the bricks were loose and shifted under his weight, causing him to become apprehensive about it. He slowly introduced his weight back upon the wall, and when he was happy it would support him, he fully leaned against it to get his breath back.

His heart was beating frantically and it was showing no signs of coming back to normal anytime soon. He took some deep breaths and at least managed to normalise his breathing patterns, even if they were a little panicked. After he brought his lungs back to a reasonable pattern, he started to think about his action plan from there on.

"Ok, ok..." he said to himself. "The hunter is probably in the bell-tower, I know that much at least. But... what now?" He questioned as he desperately thought of a way out of the situation. He would have to get out of the unstable house he was in first, as if he stayed, the hunter would eventually contact some support and he would be surrounded. And as he had seen, these soldiers were not taking prisoners, at all. "Damn, why can't they just accept our surrender!?" He cursed and thumped the ground under him with a fore-hoof. "It would make this so much simpler!" Flood shook his head in frustration.

He glanced around the room and saw that where the stairs should have been, had collapsed and left a drop into what looked like a mixture of glass shards and rough rubble. His mind said 'Nope' to jumping down there and looked elsewhere. The only other method of escape other than leaping into the sights of a trained hunter or slicing himself to pieces was a large section of the wall which now had an extra hole in it, was partially down due to a small chunk that was missing from the corner. He pushed himself to his hooves and walked over to the missing area of wall. Leaning down to get a look outside he saw nothing but a dark alleyway and a few bins scattered around here and there. His face broke out into a relieved smile.

"About time I got somewhere at least semi-safe." He said to himself as he took one last look around to make sure there was no other way out. Once he was satisfied with the fact there was no better way out, he started to squat down and try to fit through the gap.

The sniper's eye covered every tiny section of available space that the second story room had inside. After blasting at the pony and barely missing again, he tried to fire through the weak wall to either hit or expose it. When the wall section came down and he was happy that it hadn't worked, he gathered that the pony must have been hiding in the corner and trying to find a way out. The sniper had to find some other way of getting the guard out into the open.

He looked down at what was left of the houses supports. Almost the entire front of the house's walls on the ground floor had fallen away and lay in a crumpled mass that covered a small amount of the street. He used his sights to look inside the building and examined what was there with a keen judgmental eye. Unless he missed a tank of flammable gas or petrol hiding among the collection of bricks and wood, he found no way of dismantling the building from the inside out, and so he turned to his spotter.

"You got any Anti structure munitions left?" He said in his native russian tongue without taking his eyes from the scope. He heard a rustling as his spotter checked the back of his hips and patted the pouches to check for any remaining explosives. His hand found the right pouch and he brought the hand back to the tactical binoculars.

"2 HE grenades, 1 LASM. What you thinkin'?"

"The lower floor looks like it would collapse if we took the back wall out." He said. The spotter thought for a moment until he saw what the marksman was getting at.

"Clever." He mumbled with a smile. He brought the long metal tube out from a sling on his back, the angular object reflected a small amount of light for him to see the two tone olive drab green weapon which was now laying out on the floor in front of him. He reached into a pouch and took out

his last 66mm explosive rocket.

Flash Flood reeled back as he realised that with his armour, he was far to big to fit through the gap. He didn't want to take it off though, because if he met any friendly guards in the area he may not be recognised as a guard, which could cause him problems. However he was pressed for time and couldn't afford to stand around waiting to be ambushed while thinking about his armour.

"To Tartarus with it." He said to himself as he started to undo some straps holding the shredded armour together. As he undid the chest piece, it fell into his waiting hoof and he set it down quietly so he could remove the side plates extending from his shoulders to his abdomen. Once undone, they to came free and Flood set them down with the remains of his chest piece. He quite literally felt like a weight had been shifted from his back as he breathed a deep breath, now free from the weight of his armour.

Flood picked up the rifle and slung it around his body, and doing the same with his crossbow bayonet. He reverted his attention back to the gap and took a step forward when he was stopped by a strange noise that suddenly struck out. At first he thought it might have been gunfire, but then he decided otherwise. It sounded like rushing air with the sound of a fierce flame in the background. It quickly got louder as it neared and before he knew it, the noise stopped and something exploded underneath him.

The platform lurched to one side with a terrible cracking and threw Flood off balance, making him fall to his belly with a *Thud* as he closed his eyes by reflex. He reopened them to see the side of the floor was beginning to lean in the direction of the street. He started to slide backwards and scrambled to try and regain grip, but to no avail. As the floor hit the ground with a large amount of noise, a cloud of dust was thrown into the air and a crack emerged in the middle of the floor as it was broken in half by it's own weight.

The floor split in half and Flood slipped off the edge of the break and fell to the ground, on top of the resulting rubble. His blood was filled with adrenaline and the fall felt like only half of what it should have been as Flood collided with the shattered flooring. The fall stunned him and he was still coming back to his senses when the floor behind him started to break up and collapse, threatening to crush him. He looked back at it dazily and the crumbling supports instantly struck a chord in his brain.

He forced himself to his hooves and leaped away from the falling wreckage. He jumped clear of the destroyed structure and rolled sideways to cushion the collision. The rubble fell on top of where he would have been had he not been so sharp and crushed everything underneath with a dreadful malice comparable of having a pack timberwolves jump on you at the same time. The cloud of dust extended and pushed itself over him, covering his body but also leaving his lungs tickled and making him cough and hack.

When he started to come out of shock, he came to realise that if not for the sandy coloured cloud he would once again be laying in plain sight. If the hunter had seen him then it would simply just shoot at where it saw he was originally. With a groan he pulled himself up and began to walk away. He turned and started a walk to where the other side of the street should be. But when he stepped on his left hind leg, an ache crept it's way up the bone.

Each step increased the feeling more and more, and by the time he made it to the other side of the street, still covered by the choking dust, the ache was translating into a sharp pain. A missed shot rang out and Flood jumped from the sound, making him land on his now apparently bad leg and causing a jolt of pain to shoot up from the hoof and to the primary bending joint. He screamed and juddered forward allowing him to trip over a small pile of debris. This made him fall face first to the ground and shock him again. He lay on his back, the collective and repetitive collisions along with his leg adding up to drive him to disorientation.

His eyes rolled around in their sockets in time to an unsteady breathing pattern as Flood slowly came back around and directed his dizzy vision down to his pained leg. Looking at them side by side he saw something not quite right in the lower half of his right hind. The bone structure looked... off. He remembered he was still being stalked and looked behind him to check for cover. Luckily he was behind a small section of wall left behind after the destruction of the home at an unknown point in time.

Back to his leg, he retracted his hurting hind to feel the bones for damage. He gently squeezed along the length of bones and didn't come across anything too painful. That was, until he came to his ankle, at least. He barely touched the joint and a searing pain awakened in the bone. His hooves instantly came away and he flinched, the side of his face contorting and his breaths quickening. His eyes started to water as he he looked down at the belt of pouches around his chest on the bayonet's sling.

Opening one, he took a ragged cloth and placed it in his mouth, still debating what he was about to do. He grudgingly returned his fore-hooves to the damaged joint and apprehensively started to feel it again, trying to find what the problem really was. As the hooves worked slowly, he flinched when they started to return to where the pain was most apparent. He took a deep breath through the cloth and began pressuring the area, causing a sickening 'squelch' and a quiet 'click' to hit his senses. The pain returned just as bad, if not worse and his jaws clenched as hard as they could around the cloth.

He let out a loud mixture of a growl and a moan as he pressed harder, feeling for a problem. Which he thankfully found quickly. The bones holding the joint in place had twisted and dislocated from their original position. He retracted his hooves like they were dipped in scolding water, and rested his head on his chest. His eyes were crying from the intense pain and he breathed so unevenly he could start to feel a small burning in his lungs as they were unable to get sufficient oxygen. The cloth fell from his mouth.

*BANG*

The hunter took a shot at the wall to try and see if it could kill him through it. The shot blew away a small portion of the wall and chippings were sent flying all around him. He tried to ignore the danger so he could tend to his injury as fast as possible and escape.

"Buck me..." He grunted under his breaths and looked back at the joint. "Ok... only one more time." He said to himself uneasily and he placed the cloth back in his mouth with shaking hooves, which then moved back to the dislocated ankle. He mentally pepared himself for the pain again... but this time he hesitated. He did NOT want to touch the injury, the pain was way too massive. But then again, just like removing his armour, it was that or get ambushed. So for a final time, the hooves moved in on their target and made contact. Before twisting...

*C-crick*

... and pushing.

*Crack*

"MMRAAAAGH-HA-HAAA!" Flood howled and started to roll around an the floor, thrashing left and right with his eyes clenched shut, tears pouring out. A good hoof thumped the floor un uncontrollably while he was doing so, and eventually the stallion stopped. He rolled onto his side and rested there, his breaths more steady but much quicker as he shook with the feeling of manually relocating his own ankle. The pain had been reduced, but that didn't mean it was anywhere close to bearable. He lay there for a few moments and allowed the ankle to simmer down.

"Shit." He said to himself with a light hearted chuckle. His dust filled lungs hacked, spitting out a small puff of material. "Now I really can say I've done it all." He opened his eyes and rolled onto his belly. Flood slowly pushed himself to his hooves, the pressure on the bad hoof made it feel very weak, and it felt like it may come out if he forced it even a little bit. The pain was still present and was relatively cringe-worthy, but at least it was bearable. Instead what was left was a small case of shaking and aching, making him wobble with a sense of apprehension while he pushed up. As he gently started to rest more weight on the hoof until he was somewhat normally stood, he sighed in relief as the worst was over.

*BANG*

Another shot blasted away a large part of the wall near his head and sent a collection of brick splinters his way. Flood ducked to try and avoid most of them, but some found their mark and cut his skin to introduce a sting that covered his side. Once he realised this he moved away from the wall and instead opted to hide among the rubble of a building once more, being careful not to damage his weak hoof.

Once he leaped into the wreckage, he broke the line of sight again. He stumbled on his bad hoof and toppled to the ground, before spinning around cautiously to look at the relocated joint. Thankfully, it had caused no damage. Flood immediately began looking for a way out, and he searched left, right and forward, making sure no stone was left un-turned, metaphorically and literally. The only escape route lay ahead of him was a tight gap in the rubble where a large piece of concrete was leaning against another, leaving a small space underneath that looked like a squeeze, but not too claustrophobic.

He lay down and crawled over to the gap. Pushing himself through a small bit, he tested the space given. He decided that he would fit and carried on. Having the space reduced to such a little amount was very un-nerving for the stallion, especially when he was crawling through something that could collapse and crush him at any moment. It made him feel vulnerable and provoked a lot of nervousness that accumulated in his stomach.

His body scraped along the ground, the butt of his rifle creating the sound of grating as the surprisingly durable material was dragged forward against the floor. His skin, not so. The shards of brick were pulled out forcefully by his movements, even though he was only traveling a few feet, it was enough to pull most of them out. He endured the stinging. After all, it was nothing in comparison to relocating his own ankle. Now that was painful, and he could say he had experience now. This allowed him to bear the worst of it and try to shake it off, which he did.

Flash Flood pulled himself from the confined space and stood up on his hooves. He looked around to see where he was at this point, finding himself placed behind the building with an alleyway to follow. One blocked alley went off in another direction and he would have taken it if it were not blocked by collapsed buildings. He stepped from the ruins and leaned around the corner to take a good look down the alley.

It was dark, and stopped at an opening into the street beyond. He smiled at the thought of finally having a safe way of covering more than 100 meters without having to risk breaking bones or jump across 2 story gaps between structurally un-sound houses. So he took it as a blessing and carried on his way.

Walking down the alley he kept glancing left and right at the walls surrounding him. The backs of those particular buildings were still intact, meaning there must have been some combat that involved infantry leveling the fronts of them only. Maybe there were guards hiding in the buildings and the humans, not knowing so, simply blew up the fronts of the houses anyway, just to be sure. Which brought him onto another point.

He came to start wondering how many bodies there were under the buildings. He could have passed by 100 dead ponies hidden beneath the monotone grey rubble that seemed to line the streets like some sort of twisted pathway leading ponies to their deaths. A depressing thought that encouraged his spirits down into the pits of sadness. These thoughts were interrupted as his hoof landed on something that went 'Crunch'. He craned his neck down and noticed that he had stood on a portrait. A golden frame that housed a picture inside. He picked it up to have a look.

A grey pegasus mare with off centered amber eyes smiling joyfully while standing besides a brown earth pony, wearing a bow tie and collar who looked equally as happy. And in the center sat a grey/purple unicorn who looked only to be 6-8 years old, holding what looked like some sort of silver device with a blue light on the end in her mouth. Flood was charmed by the discovery, brightening his mood. And he looked at his patches that were attached to his bayonet belt, finding a particular one, he opened it.

"Sorry precious stone collection..." He tipped the pouch of crystals onto the floor and they bounced round, causing a tinkering noise.
"...not as precious as this picture. I'm sure somepony can get this back to the family, they look a happy bunch." He squeezed the picture into the pouch and did up the button to lock it shut. "Nothing is as precious as family." He finished. The find bumped his mood up a little after thinking about the trapped bodies, and thoughts of returning the picture to the family kept him smiling until then end of they alleyway.

He almost forgot he was being hunted for a second and very nearly stepped out into the open for all to see. He pulled himself back and checked left and right for any dangers. The only thing present was another rattle of gunfire that sounded from across the town. Flood noticed that he could only see the spire of the belltower from his position as this part of town seemed to be somewhat slightly less destroyed than the rest.

"Maybe this side saw the armies coming and escaped?" He questioned to himself. But then he remembered where most of the guards were near the center of town, still making their way over to his current position when they were first contacted. It was likely the humans just never caused much conflict in that side because there was no fighting to be had there. Which would explain why a structure such as a belltower was still standing among the wreckage of everything else. If it had been different then surely it would have been destroyed just like the rest of the town.

He ran across the street, surprisingly un-noticed by anything that may have been around at that time. He made it across to the other side without incident, but that only made him more uneasy. Flood was not a firm believer in karma, he didn't want to temp fate by letting his guard down due to gap in his bad luck. So he stayed vigilant.

He reached the houses on the other side and carefully walked in through the doorway. The door creaked open as he pushed it on it's one hinge. Breaking fully into the grounds of the house, the door fell of it's hinge and fell to the floor with a loud 'Crash'. Flood froze solid, but no return came. So again, he carried on. Here he decided that if he was going to make it away from the hunter, he was going to have to be fast and un-predictable to make up for the closer range. It was now or never.

The sniper surveyed the row of houses in front of him over and over again, searching for the pony who had narrowly escaped death for the 3rd time in one hour. He knew that the pony had been injured and was actually able to hear it's cries as he guessed it was popping a joint back into place. He could sympathise, as he had once been forced to relocate his shoulder on an operation in Ukraine after a run in with an angry local. Relocating a joint was not a pleasant experience at all.

"Hey." His spotter said to him in a hushed voice. The sniper only responded with a 'Mmhmm'. "Think we lost him?" He asked to the sniper who started yet another sweep of the row of buildings.

"No. The only way out is this way, and the pony knows so. We have been told to cover this area for that one reason. We can't have any ponies reporting back to their base in that direction before we advance. They could fall back and regroup with the rest of their forces in Canterlot and along with the diarchy they would make an actual challenge, unlike the force sent to this town. We've annihilated an 800 strong force in nearly two days. That has to be a record."

After he finished, the spotter simply nodded and went back to the binoculars. The sniper knew his hunch would turn out correct. The buildings in this part of the town were more or less mostly intact. What escaping pony against an opponant who relies on open spaces could resist hiding in that?

After a small amount of waiting, his hunch proved true. A head popped out of a window in one of the buildings as he scanned the rows of houses. He rushed to place his crosshairs over it, but as the pony saw it was being exposed, it hid away again.

"Dimitri, he's in the pale yellow building, 2nd from our center, 2nd row from our position." The sniper told his spotter the pony's position and waited for him to align himself before settling back into his shooting mode. The game was back on.

The pony then darted from one side of the window to the other, the sniper's scope followed just as quick, however there was not enough time for him to shoot as the window was far too thin to get an accurate shot before the pony re-entered cover. Hs crosshairs hovered over the cover and he debated pulling the trigger and seeing if he could shoot through the wall and kill the pony. It had not worked prior, so he doubted it would work then. But you never knew...

He started to squeeze the trigger, allowing his finger to slowly pull it all the way to the bottom. And as he clicked it all the way down and the gun was set to jolt back into his shoulder, the pony rounded the corner of the doorframe to run across the street and enter the other side and get a mere 150 meters away from the bell tower. With a loud 'Bang' his bullet missed again and struck the wall where the guard would have been had he not moved, blasting a small hole through to the other side.

The angle of his fire was getting steeper, and that meant that the pony found it much easier to escape his line of sight because closer up and on a higher angle, the buildings appeared to cover more space. The sniper grimaced as the pony escaped his sight and inevitably entered the building that seemed so close to him right there. He pulled the bolt up and back, ejecting the final casing from his magazine as it flew across and over his spotter's body. He lifted the butt of the rifle and pulled out the magazine to place it next to him.

"First empty mag'." He commented and his spotter replied:

"Been a lonely couple of days, eh?" The sniper placed a full magazine into the slot and gave an assist to check it was in place properly. He brought the butt back down and shifted it into his shoulder before pushing the bolt back forward and then slamming it down to chamber a round.

"Yes it has." He replied. He looked down the glass once more and focused on the house he knew a pony was hiding inside of. He checked all of the windows and stayed locked on all the points of exit there was, but for a short time he didn't notice any movement at all. The pony was obviously getting wise to the methods of avoiding death at the hands of a sniper. However it was a guard, trained with spears. He knew it was bound to make some slip ups somewhere. It was to be these he would capitalise on. However, unknown to him, while he was reloading the pony had planned to finally retaliate.

He watched the pony roll out into the doorway, laying down on it's stomach. It appeared to now be holding the rifle it had obtained in it's hooves, and for a split second he frowned, as he didn't know if ponies could fire a gun with their hooves. This didn't distract him too much though, and he was on the case incredibly fast. His crosshairs hovered over the pony and his finger started to squeeze the trigger.

His shot was cancelled as a flash came from the rifle and three collisions pinged all around him, one making a strange 'Thud' and a splattering sound. Some dust was thrown out and the sniper blinked to avoid getting some in his eyes. When he re-opened them, the pony was up and running at the tower, full speed with a slight limp. He tried to get a shot but the angle became too steep and he found it impossible to keep his eye at the scope because of it. He turned to his spotter who still had his face buried in the floor to hide it from the dust.

"Come on, Dimitri." He shook the man profusely. "Get your face of the ground and get that detonator!" When the man did't respond, he frowned deeply. He then turned his head and saw a crimson red hole going all the way from the front to the back of his head. Looking behind him, he noticed a large splatter of blood peppering the wall and floor on his level. "Shit!" He shouted and thumped the floor with an angered fist.

"I know you're in there!" A voice shouted out at him. "Come down and face me like a real warrior, 'hunter'!" He heard the taunts coming from the pony and he reached for his grenades. "This is between you and me, 'hunter'. None of these gun things, just you, me, and our blades!" Alexei paused in his movement as he considered the taunt.

"Yes..." He whispered under his breath, reaching instead for his heavy styled Tanto in it's sheath. "Like a real warrior."

Flash Flood waited for the hunter to reply, and after a few tantilising moments, he heard the tell tale footsteps of a human slowly coming down the stairs. His heart began to race. Maybe it would have been easier if he had just gone up and killed him from behind. But then again, he thought he had hit something squishy up there with the rifle. There must have been two of them.

For a second the steps softened as a flat spot was reached and then they became heavy again at another flight of stairs. Flood waited with increased nervousness as a rattle of gunshots filled the air once again. His heart rate started to soar, and he wondered if doing this was really the right thing to do.

"-I'm gonna' die aren't I?-" He questioned his own actions with a self anger. "-Shit!-" He mentally kicked himself as the footsteps came closer. He had effectively tempted a predator from it's lair instead of trying to bypass it under cover.

It was too late for regrets, now. If he was going to go down then he should at least try to act confident in the face of his enemy, it might help him out if he wasn't being scared and portraying himself as weak. Another set of heavy footsteps, those ones were much closer and he thought they could have been no more than a few seconds away from possibly meeting his doom. Still he waited, shuffling backwards until he got a good 10 meters away from the entrance/exit to the tower where his final challenge would approach him. The footsteps came to an abrupt halt as a jagged silhouette stopped at the bottom of some stairs. It paused for a moment before turning and beginning a slow walk out into the sun light. And when it did, Flood was met with a sight that could be described as nothing but or short of terrifying.

A tall human wearing a drab grey and green outfit stood before him. The outfit looked like it was made from a collection of bushes, dust and concrete and the human stood out in the light. The face was covered in shadows from the hood and the boots it was wearing on it's feet were a tan colour, lined with dirt. The human's hands slowly reached up to the hood and clutched it in it's hands, before pulling it down to reveal the face. The skin was mostly coated in some sort of camouflage paint and only some of the pale tan/pink skin was bare and visible. A large scar ran from one side of it's face to the other and created a sort of rift that separated the stripes of paint that lined the features. He stood in front of the pony with a relaxed posture and waited for him to say something, but when Flood found himself unable to think of something to say, the human started for him.

"Well one of us is going to die here. So before we begin..." The human said in a strange accent. "...May I at least know your name?" He said calmly.

"Flash Flood, Spears-stallion in the Equestrian Day Guard." He said simply. "What about you, hunter?" The human smiled and lifted it's arms to gesture to itself.

"Alexei Petrenko, marksman in the Spetsnaz Special Forces of Russia." He said with a smile. "It has been long time since I have seen a foe as lucky as you." Flood kept a straight expression as the human began to circle him. Flood went along with him and together they walked a perfect circle, their steps mingling together.

"It will be an honour to fight you. Maybe your luck will bring you victory, huh? Or maybe it will not." He said as he reached to a sheath around his chest, and pulled from it a large knife that looked like it could maybe count as a sword to some ponies. The blade was 2 inches in depth and was less than 5 millimeters thick at the widest point. The sharpened edge carried straight on and did not make a curve until 12 inches along where it made a sharp turn to angle off and create an extra 2 inches of angled blade. This formed a deadly stabbing point without compromising the cutting surface's ability to hack. There was a small part behind the point that was sharpened to further enhance the stabbing power of the weapon. The metal was well polished and Flood could see enough of the handle to determine it's deep black colour.

Flash Flood reared up and raised himself to a standing position that allowed him to stand on his hind legs. This was something his bad hoof dis-agreed with, and the ankle felt a little strained by the extra weight.

"Maybe..." Flood unsheathed his bayonet. A darker coloured metal made up the ornamental style of the weapon, which was sharpened on both sides and carried on for 14 inches before tapering off at the end to form a triangular shaped weapon. Near the end on both sides was a set of jagged spikes no more than a single millimeter in size, but in large enough number to worsen any wound and render it un-heal-able. The sub caused a huge reflection to shine off both of the weapons, almost as if Celestia herself was watching the stare down and trying her hardest to dramatise it. "...But that is yet to be seen."

The two stood there, staring each other down in a dramatic stand off as the sun cast their long shadows down the street with an ominous lack of colour. They looked into each other, as with Flood now on his hinds, the were of a similar size and could easily stare into the others eyes. Giving each other one last judgement before one had their final battle.

"A wise statement." The human said before dropping his back leg into a wide stance and taking the weight away from his front. He flipped the weapon around so that he was holding it inverted, the blade pointing behind him. Stretched his front arm out with a semi-opened palm while reeling his weapon arm back to a high up position. Flood held his bayonet forward, the opposite way to his opponent as he too widened his stance. Extending the forward fore-leg out and his weapon leg allowing the bayonet to align parallel to his stretched forward leg.

"Let's dance!" The human said before lunging forward while swiping with the inverted blade to try and slash at Floods neck. The guard figured quickly that this human was no slouch with a blade, and performed a fast dodge to duck under his attacker's arm. Alexei saw the pony move around him and after he had traveled past Flood he hopped back to remove himself from the pony's range of attack.

Flood jabbed forward with trained control. The blade was on target to hit it's target, but Alexei used his tanto to deflect the attack and as Flood's body came toward him, he rammed an elbow into his ribs. Flood staggered back, hopping to avoid pressuring the bad hoof too much. Alexei took his chance and made a diagonal hack from Flood's 'shoulder' to his waist, hoping to end the fight quickly and split the pony's body wide open.

Flood was stunned and un-able to dodge, so instead he raised the bayonet to protect himself. The tanto hit the bayonet, chipping into it slightly and the human's strength forced it away, swinging Flood's leg back down to his side. Alexei responded by flicking his wrist around to angle the blade up and slash across Flood's body again. However the guard saw this coming and threw himself at the human in a barge. Alexei was launched backwards, swing his arms to try and regain his balance while Flood prepared his next move.

"My turn!" He shouted as he pointed the blade forward and charged the human with the aim to skewer him through the chest. Alexei attained natural balance just in time to twist his body sideways with the blade still backward facing in his hand. He used his free left arm to catch Flood's blade leg and push against the primary joint as his right elbow came in and butted his stomach. Flood was forced to drop the bayonet as his leg was about to be broken. Alexei tried to then shank the pony but Flood pushed his waist sideways so that the tanto missed it's mark and instead run down the side of his body. Flood then utilised his free hoof and punched Alexei in the gut, causing him to double over and bring his face in closer.

Flood then punched Alexei in the center of his face and a light crack was heard as his nose broke. He freed himself from Flood's advantage and staggered back again, covering his nose, tanto still in hand. He walked back 3 paces when Flood dropped down onto all fours and aligned his hind legs with the human's body. He then reared up and thrust the legs as powerful as he could, allowing the injured hoof to aim lower at the softer belly rather than hit the bone in his chest. The 2 point kicked worked wonders, inflicting great pain on Alexei as he screamed and fell backwards, clutching his belly area.

Alexei dropped his tanto amidst the pain and once he had already hit the floor, he averted his gaze to Flood. Who had now retrieved his bayonet and was skipping over to him with good pace, ready to stab straight through him. Flood came in fast and lunged down to stab Alexei, but the human used his long legs to kick out and knock him back as they connected with Flood's body. Alexei used the opening to roll over sluggishly and pick up his tanto in the normal forward position before standing back up.

The two combatants stood staring each other in the eye, and having both dealt painful blows to one another, they were filled with only one thing: The desire to kill. It was the first time Flash Flood had ever felt such a feeling, and as he stood filled to the brim with hatred for this one human, he took the time to savour it's sour effects. It was the exact thing Equestrian values sought to prevent in it's ponies, and he could see why: It was amazing. He felt energised, he felt alive, his breaths were fast and his brain was focused. Flood had never been so pumped in his life, and if anypony was allowed to feel this way it could end up in heightened killings.

After their duel staring, the duo made a final charge at each other. Time felt like it had slowed down slightly to Flood, enough adrenaline was running through him for him to feel as if it really had. And as his foe approached, he noticed every detail. Every inch of shine on their weapons, every jagged section of the hunter's cloths and every feature in his immediate surroundings. The tanto came in fast, slicing at his shoulder in a diagonal cut. It came closer and closer until it was about to cut his chest in half, destroying every organ that rested there.

Flood acted at the final moment, dodging with a spin and making his way around the human's body, away from the attack. When he came out of the spine, he shoved the blade of his bayonet against the side of Alexei's waist and then finished his spin by letting the momentum push a hind leg back to make a long stance. Then he twisted his upper body and brought his weapon hoof with it, slicing through the human's lower body and sending a wave of crimson liquid flying away which splattered onto the ground to make a crescent moon of blood. Both of them stood like statues for a second and their breaths were the only things that filled the air, lungs slowly lowering their pace until they had reached a reasonable level.

At that moment Alexei collapsed onto his knees and dropped his tanto. The cut had run deep enough into his body to slice through a quarter of his waist. A large part of his internal organs had been deemed destroyed and large amounts of blood poured from the wound. Alexei's breathing picked back up again once realisation kicked in and he slowly became shaky. His right hand traveled down to the wound to wipe against the exposed flesh, and he brought it back up to stare at the blood covered palm that he then owned.

He started to chuckle lightly, but it was interupted as the job was finished. Flood ran him through with his bayonet and the blade traveled all the way through Alexei's chest and heart. The human's body went limp on the blade and fell, pulling Flood down with his dead body. Flood stood tall and instead allowed the body's weight to pull itself from the weapon where it fell flat and lay quietly on the dusty floor.

Flood never spoke a word, only looking down on the dead body of what was once his bane. Taking one final deep breath, he lifted the blade to the sheath and pushed it into the depths of it's metal holding until it was completely covered, before letting out his breath and closing his eyes. He twisted his body to see how far he had left to go, and beyond the tower he could see a gap in the final row of houses. The end of his hell was only a mere 50 meters away, and he was so close to forgetting everything that had happened in the Alicorn-forsaken warzone.

He let himself drop down to all fours. He turned, and he walked.

Author's Note

I had great fun writing this, and I hope you felt the same reading it. Stay safe and watch out for the Epilogue my friends.

Epilogue (1.0)

Flash Flood trotted along the pathways with a sense of accomplishment, as not only had he escaped death at the hands of the human forces, he was now on his merry way to a warm bed and relative safety. Around him the trees were at least half covered by leaves. Much thinner than they should be, but when a pony had spent a couple of days in an almost flattened warzone, then they don't really notice the difference. To him, the sight of green trees alone was enough to kick his spirits back into gear. He was filled with a feeling of happiness and excitement to finally arrive back at a friendly base, giving a report and treating himself to a nice lunch.

However he couldn't shake a feeling of anxiety that seemed to have followed him out of Ponyville. The path towards the Ponyville FOB winded around at times, and sometimes he found himself stopping to take a cautious look behind a group of hedges or a cluster of trees. Anything that could hide one of those hunters, like Alexei, made him walk the way somepony would when they felt they were being watched or stalked. Every now and again his smile and hope filled expression would be interrupted by a sudden surge of nervousness. A strange feeling, like the tingling of his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

*Crack*

Flood whirled around and raised himself onto his hinds while drawing his bayonet. He promptly found himself standing in combat stance and watching a small fox run across the pathway. Most of it was the usual orange/brown colour that foxes were with the odd white patch on the body. His eyes followed the creature innocently until it disappeared into a hedgerow, before being left in near silence as only the chirping of birds could be heard. A smile broke his serious expression as he started to snigger.

"Yeah, gotta look out for the foxes, Flood." He chuckled as he sheathed the bayonet. "They'll take over the world one day." He joked sarcastically and turned, dropping back down to all fours. He stared on for a moment before starting forward, still laughing lightly to himself. While his juddering diaphragm was flapping away, he kept his eyes and grin facing down towards the floor. Walking on for a while, he managed to stop laughing and return his attention to the path and his surroundings.

The path continued to be lined with trees as far as he could see up to the blind crest lying at the top of the ascent he had started. The path was, not surprisingly, a light dirtish colour. The grass and trees highlighting the edges served to make it look like some sort of clairvoyant road to freedom. A road he was willingly following. Flood noticed the ascent getting slowly more steep, and he felt it in his legs too. He analysed the horizon in front of him and estimated that it was going to stay at a similar degree of incline and reach the top roughly 40 meters away.

More birds chirped away and the guard decided to do a spot of amateur bird watching. He ran his view down the path and judged the near non-existent curve. Making his estimate, he turned his head to the trees left of him. The first thing he saw was a small group of blue birds and a few red ones, their bodies were short and plump but the tail feathers were about the length of the rest of the body. Making it appear a little larger than it really was. They hopped around a few nests and conversed with each other in their snappy alien language. After a few seconds of trotting, the group vanished behind a tree branch that had covered them up with the changing angle. Next he turned to the right and searched the evergreens for any more birds.

Instead, something shiny caught his eye. Hanging from a low branch was some sort of silver chain necklace with a pair of ovular shapes attached to it. It's strange feature in the current landscape was enough to break his troy and he came to a stop. Making his way over to the tree, he kept his eyes on the thing. It was almost completely silver apart from a black outline around one of the two ovals.

Coming to a halt underneath the branch, he looked up at the necklace dangling there. Then he had and idea. He swiveled to face the tree and began to take paces backwards. When he had gone as far as he could without backing into another tree, he stopped and stared playfully at the necklace's tree. Then he sprinted forward, closing the distance incredibly quickly. Coming to the trunk, he used his momentum to run up the tree. And when he ran out of momentum, he jumped off in the branch's direction. Reaching out with a hoof he barely missed the necklace, but got a good enough look to notice more writing in the tags.

He started falling and suddenly remembered that had dis-located his ankle previously. Time almost seemed to stop for a moment as he was struck with fear that the landing would break something even further. The the next thing he knew, he hit the ground. Hard. Landing on his back hooves first, the damaged one burst into pain and he let the front half of his body take the rest of the force. Once safely landed, he fell onto his haunches and lifted the bad leg so that he could look at it. At inspection the hoof didn't seem damaged and the pain started to recede. Flood let out a relieved sigh but silent cursed his own stupidity.

"Damn, I can be an idiot." He said quietly and took a final glance at the tags. "Well then. I guess you can stay there, it's fine by me... Wait, who am I talking too, myself?" He sat there in the chirping and frowned. "I'm going crazy, it's finally happening." he said humourfully to himself again and stood up while shaking his head. He continued to give the necklace a long stare as he started to walk away, back on the road again.

"-Still, I wonder what they are? And why somepony would put them there? Maybe it's a special place marked with a special object? Yeah, that's probably it.-" When Flood got far enough away, he reached an angle where the sun's light shone off the tags through a break in the leaves and reflected with an almost painful shine. This forced his gaze away from the object, but didn't take his mind from the matter. He continued to mindlessly ponder until he finally reached the crest of the hill and his destination was revealed. So close...

Unturned Rock sat in her chair at the sentry post with her hinds dangling and her fore-legs crossed. She had her butter yellow and gold fleece under her armour to keep her warm when sat outside completely stationary for hours on end. Sometimes she was sent off duty to handle a fight between the refugees, but not often. She scanned the horizon with her amber eyes and tried her best to ignore the fact that her red mane was blowing in her face every few seconds. She decided to go over the horizon at the hill crest once more, starting from the left.

There was the big set of mountains highlighting the edge of her scan zone, anything left of that was not her problem. The mountains were a purplish grey and were nearly always snow capped, even through summer. They tended to get a lighter colour the further down they went, and it was something she had wondered for about at least and hour in total over the lat day or two. She followed the distant mass of rock down to the horizon and followed it right. Next she knew, was a large space of grassland which surrounded the FOB and seemed to carry on up until the hill's crest. After that was a set of tree that outlined the path to Ponyville. A path she was always weary of just in-case any human forces decided to come scrambling out of it.

Speaking of, she still had no clue what sort of opposition there was in Ponyville. There was a force of 800 sent from Canterlot that passed by her base, stocking up on supplies as they went passed. Stole her sweetroll they did... Bastards. But when they finally arrived in Ponyville and set up shop for the human assault, contact was lost within hours. Hours! As a result everypony back at base had no clue what they were up against. They got some brief mentions of armoured carriages and something about flying things, but other than that, zilch.

Coming back from her small mental fret, she returned her attention to the horizon. Scanning across the grasslands she saw nothing for the 100th time in not very long and skimmed over it like one would with a chapter of a book their friend had spoiled. Then she moved to the pathway. Just as dirt-like as usual, except with a small blob this time...

"Huh?" She rose up in her chair and shifted her sun-glasses down a touch to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Sure enough, a moving blob was making it's way down the path, and it looked like it was in a hurry. She threw her glasses to the floor and jumped off her chair.

"Hey!" She yelled at a pair of guards standing by a nearby building. Their heads jerked her way and eyes locked with hers. "We've got somepony heading our way! Considered a threat until further notice!" One of the guards suddenly bolted away in search of an officer, following protocol. She watched the guard run into the building they were guarding and let the door hang open. Then she turned back to see the pony trotting down the path not stopping at all. She heard ponies, probably the refugees, heading to the gates to see what was happening for themselves, and she didn't blame them. They had been on the edge of their seats for days.

She picked up a pair of binoculars laying in-front of her and raised it to her eyes. She adjusted the focus and zoom until they were at the right point to see details. When saw one of the human's weapon's hanging from it's body her mouth hung open. The pony was not wearing any guard armour, but as far as she could tell he was adorned with standard issue guard belts and pouches as well as the crossbow bayonet. But without the uniform there was no way of knowing. She turned to a small but growing group of guards and yelled at them.

"Where in Tartarus is our officer? I thought I got somepony to go get one, didn't I?" At that point a general walked out from the building where the guard had run off to, followed by the guard in question. Who quickly returned to his post and stood stoic with his companion. The General didn't wear armour, but wore his red shirt with all of his earned medals attached on the right side at the chest. He walked up to her post and made his way up the steps before giving her a stern look.

"What's happening?" He asked with a slightly annoyed look on his face.

"Pony coming our way, sir." She stated, hooving him the binoculars. He took them and proceeded to look down them at the stallion trotting down the path. " He appears to be using guard issued equipment but is lacking uniform. He also looks to be armed with human weaponry, Sir." She stood straight and waited for him to finish his stare.

"Take up your crossbow and train him, tell him to hold still and if he gives you a hard time, incapacitate him. Got a feeling this might not be good." He said the last sentence in a grumble which prompted Rock to think: "-No, your just pissy because we interrupted your tea.-"

"Yes Sir." She said blankly. The general then just turned around and walked into the crowd who parted to let him through. She picked up her crossbow and noticed the sentry at the other side of the entry gate doing the same. She pulled back the crank with her magic and took a bolt from it's quiver. She then secured the bolt in the frame and walked up to the edge of her post, taking aim.

"Halt!" She shouted. "-Damn I'm yelling a lot...-" The stallion stopped for a second to register what she was saying before carrying on.

"It's okay, I'm a guard!" He shouted back.

"I said halt!" She shouted with venom at the stallion, causing him to stop mid pace.

"Aren't you gonna' ask for my name and rank?" He yelled his questioning back at her. All of a sudden there was the sound of a cannon that she judged was closer than Ponyville. The sound made the tress-passing stallion jump out of his skin as he jolted 180 degrees to look nervously at the trees at the top of the hill. He definitely acted like he had just come out of a war-zone.

"Can you just let me in? That sounded close, and I don't wanna' spend any more time around those humans!" Rock ignored him and turned to the officer who was standing in-front of the refugee swarm.

"Sir, that cannon-shot didn't sound like it came from Ponyville." She said to the impatient looking officer. He grunted grudgingly and turned to her with bored eyes before saying:

"And where do you think it came from?"

"It sounded much closer, Sir. I would recommend sending a scout team." His eyes rolled up for a few seconds as he pondered a course of action. Suddenly he looked to Unturned Rock with a blank expression and gave her a quick shake of the head.

"Not enough time." He turned to a guard who was standing on post at the building he had come from, the same pair who had been told to get him. "Corporal!" He shouted. The higher ranking guard on post braced up. "Go to the barracks, tell 'em all to stand to. Once done, get Major Green Hoof to report to me, got it?" The stallion nodded before saluting and running off. The sound of rotor blades and huge engines could then be heard fading in through the quiet, making the crowd start to hustle and whisper to each other.

"They're on their way here! I can help if you get me some weapons, I have experience fighting them! I might be valuable!" The rogue stallion pleaded with the officer.

"Looks like you're already armed." He said pointing to the weapon slung around the stallion's body. He just looked at it before glancing over his shoulder nervously.

"I- I took this from a human! Please, just let me in!" He said taking a few steps forward. Rock spotted this movement and immediately yelled at him.

"Stay right bucking there, matey-boy! I'm warning you!" She shouted her order and the stallion stopped dead when he saw her crossbow, putting two and two together so that he saw what she was threatening him with. The males in the crowd were all trying to get a good look at what was happening while some mothers were beginning to usher off their foals to somewhere where there was less aggressive behavior.

The increasing loudness of engines were starting to break the rogue stallion's composure, and Rock could tell just by looking at his shrinking pupils that, true to his word, he had some experience with whatever was coming their way. Rock too was beginning to feel un-easy about the whole situation.

"-Damn officer thinks he's the best thing that ever happened to Equestria. We could be dealing with some serious stuff here but he's wasting time!-"

Another cannon shot ruptured the air and this time it was far too close to be safe. Some of the crowd ponies began to turn back and trot away to their assigned bunkers. The shot was immediate followed by an explosion somewhere nearby and the stallion outside the gate started to walk forward again, this time in a light panic.

"Hold right there!" Rock shouted. She felt the general was becoming impatient as he started to glare at the stallion.

"Just let me in, please!" He shouted as he paced ever closer to the base. The engine noises continued to get louder.

"STOP!" Rock ordered with a voice the guard had become for.

"You should listen to the sentry, my friend." Warned the general. The engine noises growing louder still.

"Please! I'm begging you!"

"HALT! THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING!"

"You heard her."

"Please!"

"He's not stopping, open fire."

"Wait!" Rock tried to stop the second sentry from firing but she was far too late to make a difference. The tell tale 'twang' sounded and told her that the crossbow had already been fired. There was a cry of pain as the bolt connected with the stallion's right fore-leg, crippling him and sending him down on the floor. Rock was shocked for a second and did nothing, because there was nothing to do, but stare at the stallion thrashing and rolling in pain. What was left of the shrinking crowd went silent as they too hung their jaws and went pale at the sight of the crossbows poor victim. "Buck it." She said to herself and threw her crossbow on the floor. She leaped over the front wall of her post and landed on the large hardened clay blocks helping to protect the base from attacks, and jumped off' those too.

"What are you doing, missy?" The general shouted to her and as she slid along the ground and up to the fallen stallion before picking him up and resting him on her shoulder.

"What I signed up to do, Sir! Saving lives!" She shouted back. She slowly hobbled her way back to the gate, much to the officer's annoyance. The stallion's breaths were so hard that Rock could feel his lungs expanding to very abnormal levels in an attempt to get in a large amount of air. His chest felt like it would explode at any moment. This only served to make her speed up as the sounds of engines all but advanced on the horizon no more than a couple hundred meters away. Arriving at the gate, the general started walking alongside her and gave her the deadliest looking glare she had ever seen.

"I'm going to make sure you pay for dis-obeying my orders, private." He stated sternly. But he was utterly blown away when the guard slurped inside her mouth before spitting on his hooves. he stopped immediately and stared at his wet hoof and raised it up so he could see. He began shaking with anger and returned his glare to the mare who had the began to make her way through the crowd, as they parted to make a gangway for her.

Time Turner was one of the closest ponies to the mare walking the injured stallion through the crowd. When she came close to him, he tried to follow to get the best look he could at the wound. The bolt-head had gone straight through the leg and the only thing hanging it on was the wooden frame for the bolt. As he followed, he glance to the blood trail he left behind while he groaned and squirmed with the pain.

A heavy clunk then sounded out as something fell from one of the pouches around his body. He stopped all of a sudden and flank-checked another stallion who shrugged it off and continued to follow the mare to the medical bay, unaware of the dropped item. He examined it and as far as he could tell he was looking at the back of a large photo of some kind. Struck by curiosity, he reached a hoof down to pick up the frame. Turning it over, he froze. There within the frame, was a widescreen shot of a family he recognised like the back of his hoof. He was standing in the photo, looking happy alongside his partner Ditzy and his little filly Dinky. There he forgot all about the war, all about the sound of engines approaching over the hills. Tears began to well up in his eyes as his hoof trailed the photo, almost expecting it to be a fake of some kind. But no, it was very real.

"Dinky... D-Ditzy..." He began to breath irregularly and a few moments later, he buried his head into the frame and burst out into full blown crying. He faintly heard hoofsteps approaching and while he was crying alone, half with joy at the retainment of the old photo, half with despair at the reminder of their passing, a hoof landed on his shoulder.

"There there..." The officer tried to comfort him. The officer who ordered the shooting of the pony who brought him the memory was trying to get him to calm down! Anger brewed almost immediately and he lashed out at the older pony, batting his fore-leg away with a hoof. He turned and gave him a glare that could destroy the soul of a pony if they stared into it for too long, and the general winced while taking a step back.

"You don't tell me to calm down, you heartless bastard!" He then proceeded to whirl around and see the injured stallion riding on the guard-mare's back near the medical bay. He had to know where he found it, he had to thank him for bringing the photo back to him. He shoved the frame into a pocket of his waist-coat and started to run after him, adrenaline making his speed match that of athletes.

"Wait!" He pleaded for them. "Wait!"

To be continued...

Author's Note

Merry Christmas!

Alternate Ending 1: In Which The Sniper Succeeds

Alexei waited patiently for his spotter to load the rocket into the launcher. He held the large green tube to his side, the several warnings on the weapon stating obvious and mildly amusing things such as: 'This way towards the enemy' or 'Do not insert rocket backwards'. All things most teenagers could get right given time to work it out. However there was a reason the warnings were there, because shamefully enough, some newbie soldiers still managed to get it wrong during training. With a loud 'Clunk' the rocket finally settled into it's place inside the tube and was ready to be fired.

"Take it steady, make it count. Let's nail this first time." Alexei said as he went back to his scope and peered through to examine the target once more. There wasn't much of the buildings base left, in fact he was surprised it was still standing. As long as the rocket landed on the wall it would go down, there was no need to hit any specific point on the structure. Which was lucky, as at a couple hundred metres a rocket can veer off a little.

He pulled back the bolt on his rifle and listened for the sound of the ejected round to bounce around beside him. Once he knew the round had been successfully ejected he pushed the bolt back and locked it to load a new one. He was more than ready for the next shot. His target would be dazed, possibly injured and in the open. There was no way he could miss this one.

"Ready?" The spotter asked quietly.

"As ever." The sniper responded gruffly, shuffling to ensure he was as comfortable as possible before they continued. He listened to the sound of his partner in arms breathing and steadying himself as he adjusted his position so that the rocket pointed naturally toward the target before taking a more firm hold of the weapon, slowly drawing the trigger back.

A few seconds of silence followed before the spotter pulled the trigger all the way. A loud rush of smoke and the noise of a rocket's fuse lighting ripped through the air as the projectile was sent soaring through the air, heading directly for it's target. Alexei kept his eye on the building, watching for the pony who would inevitably come tumbling down with it. The rocket landed and a small but focused explosion shook the structure with a mighty force. They watched ans the building began to violently break down, base up.

It lurched in the direction of the street until it collided with the ground and the second floor snapped in half under the force of it's own weight. Sure enough, a pony followed, landing on the second half of the floor in a dazed heap. Alexei moved his crosshair over to the disoriented figure, noting it had landed awkwardly on one of it's hind legs and it seemed to be twisted into an unnatural position.

"-He won't be going very far.-" He thought. He began to gently squeeze the trigger when the pony noticed the higher half of the second floor leaning towards him and he jumped to his hooves to escape being crushed. Alexei was ready however and moved his crosshair along with the little quadruped. It rested over the clumsily panicked pony's heart before he finished off his trigger pull. The rifle kicked back into his shoulder with a deafening 'Pop', and a small cloud of red mist escaped the other side of the pony's body. It crumpled to the ground, motionless.

The echo of the shot sounded throughout the entire valley, bouncing off mountains miles apart like a message going out to everyone in the vicinity. Alexei released a breath he didn't know he was holding and observed the body for a few seconds to ensure it didn't move. It's chest stopped rising and it didn't so much as even twitch. Once he was sure the target was dead, he removed his eye from the glass and rested on folded arms with a loud sigh.

"Nicely done." His spotter commented.

Alexei nodded and turned to a small booklet sat next to him. In the open pages were eighty blue lines, all laid out in a box pattern that covered the whole two pages. All except for one had been crossed out either in red marker or in a more personal purple one. He took out the purple marker and crossed out the final, eightieth line.

"Alpha one, Beta Six- Two reporting. His spotter said to a radio.

"This is Alpha One, report your status Beta Six- Two." A crackling voice came back.

"Confirmed kill, last member of backup EDG platoon Killed In Action."

Author's Note

And you thought I was done with this fic...