The Avatar of Albion: The Avatar’s Odyssey

Chapters

A ReIntroduction
Act 1, Chapter 1
Act 1, Chapter 2
Act 1, Chapter 3
Act 1, Chapter 4

A ReIntroduction

Based on the writings of Jed R, Author of “The Avatar of Albion”, and TheIdiot, Author of “TCB: Shades of the Unsung” with materials present from other sources as well.

A Re-Introduction

Written by:
TheIdiot
&
Jed R.

***

A is A; a simply fact regardless of what others may say, whatever its home may be, A will always be A – even if the situation may be different in another publication, A is still going to be A.

Literature has been defined centuries ago, before it was collected there was a story told through the ages and that always endured for possibly more than half a millennium.

Its design is simple, its tale of caution even simpler;

“For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.”

Another said that all things are here for a moment, a moment where fate moves from one path to another. These moments are defining for anyone’s history anywhere… or any when; these moments are nails you could say – sometimes they are massive events that can spell the outcome for a war of life and death for many innocent lives, or they could be the most minor of things, like sparing a simple nobody’s life who could go on to become one of the most despised, infamous beings in human history.

Anything is possible when one just asks the question about these nails. It’s all open before us you see. Now - allow me to tell you a tale that you have probably heard before…

***

In one universe, in the year 2020 AD, an island appeared in the middle of one of Earth’s oceans; the Northern Pacific it was. Upon this island there was a portal, one that led to a new land; a new land known as Equestria, home to a species of sentient ponies with coats of Technicolor that thrived on magic.

However, this portal was impassible by anything human, human made or from Earth – they simply could not have passage into this land as they were and what they had.

At first things were simple, the natives of Equestria seemed more than willing to co-exist with humanity and build a new future with both races.

An easy, temporary solution came to be to allow passage into Equestria – a magical brew known as the Ponfication Potion came to be and its effects would be easy; it would heal all the physical faults one has, should they be ill with a terminal disease or suffering from a fault of body - it would cure them by turning them (by random) into either a Unicorn, a Pegasus or (ironically enough by name) an Earth Pony.

By all means it seemed to be a fair deal, have a relatively new start in this world at the cost of having hands, although there is a two out of three chance that you may be able to do extraordinary things should you convert that make up for it.

The Diarchy that ruled Equestria, Princess Celestia of the Sun and Princess Luna of the Moon, were both willing to open the way for Humanity to come to Equestria in a manner that wouldn’t require them to discard their forms for different ones – the potion was meant to be a temporary solution while they work to fully open the way for humanity to join them.

Unfortunately, time would pass and things would change for the worst; two years went by, and where previously the arrival of the portal was once thought as a herald of good tidings, soon it became the source of an ever expanding barrier that was composed of an energy that simply destroyed everything that wasn’t Equestrian, and would ultimately leave the works of man nonexistent.

Humanity would react like any animal threatened would – they fought back against the barrier in every manner they could, however every weapon fired at it was ineffective; even the great metal bomb of nuclear fire failed against it.

Slowly, as if being consumed by a cancer, the world’s nations would fall one by one with people either having died running with their tail between their legs or by their own hands. A number of them would choose to take the easy way out and still live; the potion would be their answer.

And yet, soon the true nature of this magical brew would be revealed – it was actually the start of Earth’s horror; not a temporary solution or anything optional… at first it appeared like nothing was wrong and yet as time went on those that converted would lose their independence and reject their former life; they would become fanatical worshippers of Celestia, as though she were a goddess.

Within those two years the entire Earth would fall, those seven hundred thirty days full of terror, panic, despair and desperation with Earth’s mightiest nations falling before the Barrier, unable to either stop it or slow it down. Of the seven billion and a half population of Earth, over five billion would chose to surrender to ponification while the rest would simply die out.

Except for one of these nations, a damp little island; they may have never realized it or ever suspected it, but the people of this little island – Great Britain and Ireland – had their own form of magical protection that the Barrier could not surpass or overtake. One may say that the land itself refused to bow before this dark energy without a fight. This nation comprised of a damp little set of islands, holding one hundred and forty million humans; they were all that remained of their race in the entire planet, while being protected by a power only few understood.

And… it would be seen as an insult to Celestia’s power, she could not let this stand and graciously would give into a dark being that had set a terrible plight into motion years ago. She would turn from the benevolent, kind hearted mother of Equestria into a despotic tyrant while taking the name of Empress Astra Solamina Maxima – a goddess in the eyes of her subjects and what she claims to be.

Then, the war would begin, with the combined forces of billions of converted humans and natives of the former nation known as Equestria attacking Britain, bringing complete devastation to the nation… yet her people – both of humanity and friendly Equine – still fought back; the latter of whom had realised the insanity their (former) ruler had unleashed. They stood together by forming an army, the last army… yet resistance would be impossible forever; they all knew that one day they would fall unless someone would intervene.

For this conflict was brutal and full of blood, with countless lives on both sides lost while desperately holding out with battles that were of a half-measure and full of retreats; humanity would fall back again and again… until the day came when hope came forth in the form of Major David Elliot – the Avatar of Albion.

Yet, in their darkest hour… he would perform an act that would have been destined to fail, had he not gone elsewhere…

***

Now, I must tell you something of prior – a scene that has been witnessed before… yet I feel that it’s time for a nail to be done in a manner that is simple yet key.

***

London, January 25th, 2030 - AOAverse’s Earth

David Elliot, the Avatar of Albion as he was better known, grimaced slightly at the twinge of pain that ran through his side. He pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his ribs, the enhanced healing that Albion’s power granted him were already closing the wound. He laughed at the irony for at so many respects, he was stronger, faster and harder than he had been. Yet the power that gave him these edges was also killing him, slowly but surely. He was sure True Grit would have had something to say but… no.

“True Grit!" Elliot yelled, rushing to his friend's side. The unicorn was bleeding badly, and he was burnt from Shining Armour's spell. "Hang on!"

"Did..." Grit coughed weakly, eyes opening to look at Elliot. "Did we win?"

"Yeah," Elliot said softly, as he tried to staunch Grit's wound. "Yeah, we won. Hold on mate."

"Yay for us," True Grit smiled. His eyes closed and he slumped where he lay, the life leaving him suddenly. Elliot's eyes widened, and he tried harder to staunch the wound.

"No... no, stay with me mate!" he said, starting to massage the heart in the hope of bringing his friend back. He was the Avatar of Albion, for God's sake. He should be able to save this one damn pony. Just this one, just this once. "Breathe mate, come on!"

And yet, True Grit did not draw any breath.

No, that wasn't a good train of thought at all. He had lost enough good people, and he was going to lose more before the end. No sense dwelling on those he had failed to save. If he did that, he might never move again for dwelling.

"Elliot," the voice of Hell Blazer called out, bringing Elliot's attention back to the here and now. "You nearly done?"

Elliot moved his arm, testing the movement of the side. The pain was still there, sort of, but the twinges were definitely dying down.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm done. What's the situation?"

"Pinkie Pie and Shining Armour's deaths don't seem to have slowed them down," the Earth Pony said softly. "If anything, I think they're more pissed off than they were."

"Typical," Elliot sighed. He unsheathed his lucky dagger - the one that had killed Rainbow Dash, 'speed killer' emblazoned into its hilt - and walked to the exit of the small "command centre" (a fancy name for a hastily appropriated corner shop).

As he stepped outside, a soldier fell across the doorway, a spear lodged in his chest. Snarling, Elliot drew his hand-cannon and fired at the offending Pegasus, knocking it from the sky. More fire drove the attacking Pegasi back, but that wasn't good enough for Elliot. He charged after them, dagger spinning. Behind him, Hell Blazer and Lyra charged, Lyra's horn flashing with offensive spells.

They turned a corner, only to find themselves facing what must have been forty or fifty Earth Ponies.

"Bollocks," Hell Blazer swore. "Might be an idea to retreat?"

Elliot didn't answer, only taking time to reload his hand-cannon. Hell Blazer sighed.

"Should have guessed," he said tiredly. "You want the twenty on the left or the twenty on the right?"

Elliot charged, firing as he went. Lyra stayed put, firing her spells off. Hell Blazer started muttering a series of ancient attack spells, fire forming and shooting off at his words.

The first pony went down with a bullet lodged in his skull. Vaulting over the falling corpse, Elliot stabbed a second pony in the spinal column, before kicking out, sending another sprawling into his comrades. Firing his cannon again, Elliot took out three more ponies, before holstering the weapon and drawing his other dagger. He lashed out, taking down a handful at a time with sliced throats and stabs to the heart. He span around, stabbing another pony in the neck, before pushing the corpse off of his dagger and kicking it into two more ponies. Before the stunned ponies could stand, he stabbed them in their throats, pinning them to the ground. Leaving his daggers in their necks for the moment, he drew his hand-cannon and his shotgun, switching the latter to semi-automatic fire: he span around, firing indiscriminately, taking out pony after pony…

"David!" a small voice called out. Elliot span, to find himself facing off against a Unicorn, who fired a spell at him. Elliot blocked the spell with his arm, but the kinetic force drove him to the ground.

The Unicorn gave a feral grin, and moved to send another spell at Elliot -

But then the spell impacted Lyra, who was suddenly stood between them. She yelled in pain as the energy enveloped her, and then she fell to the ground, eyes closed as she fell unconscious from the pain.

Elliot, understandably angry, fired the last round from his hand-cannon at the pony, blowing the top of his skull out, before grabbing Lyra and sprinting down the street. Around twenty of the Earth Pony squadron were still active, but they were being pinned down by a combination of Hell Blazer's continued fire spells and several soldiers firing their weapons in a suppressive pattern. Fortunately, these ponies were Royal Guard trained, not human soldier converts, and so their tactics were piss poor by comparison.

"Hell Blazer!" Elliot yelled. "Back to base, now!"

"Right!" the pony said, calling out instructions to the soldiers. With a final blast of hellfire, the yellow Earth Pony ran after his friend.

In the base, Elliot was examining Lyra's wounds. They didn't seem to be serious on the outside, but as far as Elliot was concerned, that was a bad sign - it just meant that her injuries were bad on the inside. Magic tended to be like that.

"Where's the Doctor?!" he bellowed at Hell Blazer as the pony entered the room.

"In a different part of the city," his friend replied, eyes fixed on the injured Lyra. "Oh ponyfeathers... this a magic injury?!"

"Yeah," Elliot said, not commenting on the pony oath Hell Blazer used.

"Horse shit!" Hell Blazer swore, hitting the wall with his hoof. "Horse shit and motherbucking bastarding fucking wankers!"

"Can you help her?!" Elliot asked, ignoring the outburst.

"No idea," Hell Blazer said honestly, looking frustrated and upset. "Maybe if I..."

There was an explosion outside, and the sound of hurried yelling and panicked orders. From the sounds of it, things were getting desperate.

"They're getting closer," Elliot said quietly. "Shit."

"That's a word," Hell Blazer said angrily. "These bastards are tougher than I thought."

Elliot knew that if they moved, the sheer number of ponies out there might overwhelm them all - even the Avatar of Albion couldn't kill an entire army. Then again, if they waited here without trying to escape, they'd be trapped and killed anyway. There seemed to be no way out...

Except...

"Hell Blazer," Elliot said quietly. "You know that plan you had?"

Hell Blazer looked at Elliot, eyes wide. "Yeah?"

"It's time," his friend said. "You ready?"

Hell Blazer didn't reply, instead grabbing a vial of salt from his coat pocket. He immediately ushered Elliot into the centre of the room.

"Here," he said. He drew a small circle around his friend. "Remember - once you get there, get to Canterlot, kill Solamina any way you can."

"Gotcha," Elliot said. "I'll do my best."

"I've got faith in ya mate," Hell Blazer mumbled as he began drawing more symbols in salt.

"You don't, but it's nice to say," Elliot smiled. He looked up at the ceiling. "I'm ready."

Hell Blazer mumbled a few words of incantation, and then there was a flash of light.

***

Everywhere and Nowhere

David Elliot awoke in confusion, his mind unfocused and drifting - he last recalled Hell Blazer doing the spell that would send him to Equus to kill Solamina.

What had happened?

He couldn’t see. There was nothing here - literally nothing. All his vision was a white void. He couldn’t tell if he was standing, lying down, floating… all he knew was that there was nothing else here.

Or so he thought.

“He’s woken up,” a new voice said quietly.

“Well of course he has,” the same voice said, as though this were obvious.

“Couldn’t be helped,” the same voice said again. It was as though it were having a conversation with itself.

“Still not sure this is a good idea,” a new voice said quietly, sounding formal and polite, if a bit reserved. “I mean…”

“Ah, ah,” a new, polite yet strong voice said. “What’s the saying? My ballpark, my rules?”

There was a long pause. David frowned, vaguely wondering if he could speak - or indeed if these voices would acknowledge him if he did.

“H-hello?” he spoke out softly. “W-where…?”

“Oh, and now he’s trying to speak.”

“Well, that’s interesting.”

“Shouldn’t be possible, but interesting.”

“That’s what makes it interesting!”

“Who… who is that?” David called out into the nothing.

“He’s… not all that impressive. Are we sure this one is...”

“Yes, we are,” the third voice spoke, and the other two were silenced.

“Hello?!” David asked again.

“I take it by him being here that you have a thought?”

“Of sorts. More a thought exercise. One of the newer voices had an idea, and that idea got my curiosity… and now, let us say that it has my attention.”

“One of the newer voices? Which one?”

“Was it the Embodiment?”

“No, no, he’s busy with things. It was the infinite storyteller. He was looking at some of the worlds with more radical changes from the norm, and he suggested a thought experiment. I was intrigued enough to make it happen.”

“What are you talking about?!” Elliot called out. “What’s going on?!”

“Rather insistent about that, isn’t he?” the second voice said, a tad disapprovingly.

“I can’t say I blame him,” the third voice said. “We are diverting him from his work after all.”

“To do what, exactly?”

“Yes, I was wondering about that as well.”

“It seems a bit of a strange time to get involved.

And a bit of a strange change to make.”

“If this one has a destiny, I want to know he’s up to it.”

“What are you talking about?” Elliot asked. “What destiny?!”

“You don’t think he is?”

“You made him.”

“Surely you’d know.”

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” the third voice said, sounding almost irritated. “I might have started all this up, but it’s gone to more places than I could have ever guessed. The Embodiment’s got stuff going on, you two have your pet projects, and now this infinite storyteller fella does too. With all this, I need to be certain that it’s all going where it needs to.”

“AnD I hAvE mY oWn wOrK tO cOnSiDeR,” a new voice said. “So MuCh To Do... ThErE wIlL pRoBaBlY nOt Be OvErLaP. i HoPe.”

“I imagine there… won’t….” The voice paused. “Why are you doing that?”

“Oh, I’m TrYiNg OuT a NeW tYpInG qUiRk. BlAmE hOmEsTuCk.”

“I… see. In any case, this is how I find out whether it’s all on track.”

“And if it isn’t ‘on track’?”

“Then I just wasted good crochet time - but I don’t think it will come to that. I’ve a good feeling about this…”

Before David could again demand what was going on, the white light of the void brightened, almost blinding him, and then… he was gone.

***

“Seems a little needlessly cruel to send him off without telling him what to do,” a new voice says, said, and will say.

“Can’t disagree,” the second voice said.

“The general business of making things is to see what they do,” the third voice said calmly. “Not to tell them what to do. That’s always been my way. This was an exception, and not one I’m likely to repeat until the end.”

“And I didn’t even get to meet him,” the voice adds, added and will add. “You could have at least let me do that.”

“You’ll have your eye on everything,” the third voice said with an amused tone. “After all, most of the worlds we’ve picked for this escapade are your pet projects. I just kick-started things.”

“I’m sure it’ll be good…” the first voice said.

“... if we do it right,” it added.

“And yet,” the latest voice points out, pointed out and will point out, “you already pretty much know how things will end for all things in the multiverse.”

“You sound like you’re trying to talk me out of this,” the first voice said, amused.

“No,” the fourth voice replies, replied and will reply. “Just curious as to what the point is.”

“I’m sure,” the third voice said. “Tell me - what do you think of where he’s going first?”

There was a momentary pause.

“We’re sending him there? Of all places? Not to one of the places that the others have made?” the fourth voice asks, asked, and will ask, surprised.

“We’re sending him to quite a few places,” the third voice said idly. “What can I say? I want to really push him to his limits. After all, versions of him are the… well. Let’s just say, ‘he’s important’. And seeing as he’s important, I want to be certain he’s the right being for the job. He’s only a little fellow in a big omniverse after all.”

“I guess I can’t disagree with that.”

“Though I still think it’s a bit much…”

“I’ll follow your lead on this,” the second voice said quietly. “As you say - it’s your ‘ballpark’. Though - really? Ballpark?”

“It fitted.”

“Well, I could think of better places to start,” the fourth voice comments, commented and will comment. “But, by all means… if he is going to this frankenstein of a world, then perhaps we should focus on the two that he will meet that will be best like him; creations of mine I guess.”

“If you say so,” the third voice said. “Between you and me, I’m eager for us to stop talking to ourselves and get on with watching what happens. I didn’t send him off to sit here talking about it, after all…”

Author's Note

And thus, the story begins; Elliot is to go off and see a unique creation of a world for him to witness.

Be careful, this story is going to be a long one.

Act 1, Chapter 1

Act I,
Terra 3: A New World.
Chapter 1 - A New Beginning

Written by:
TheIdiot
&
Jed R.

“My name is John Crichton, an astronaut. Radiation may have hit me, and I got shot through a Wormhole. Now I'm lost in some distant part of the Universe, on a ship - a living ship, full of strange alien life forms. Now, listen please. Is there anybody out there that can hear me? I'm being hunted by an insane military commander. I'm doing everything I can. I'm just looking for a way home…”

John Crichton, “Farscape”

“What if you could travel to parallel worlds? The same year, the same Earth, only different dimensions. A world where the Russians rule America... or where your dreams of being superstar came true... or where San Francisco was a maximum-security prison. My friends and I found the gateway. Now the problem is... finding a way back home.”

Quinn Mallory, “Sliders”

***

An Unknown Version of Earth.

And then… Elliot opened his eyes to find himself under a tree - the sun was shining and it was a clear day… so why was he on a tropical beach?

“Is that a palm tree?” he said aloud, staring at the familiar yet strange thing. It was strange that this was the first thing to come to his attention, and yet he had rarely if ever seen one in person - and any country on Earth where he might have witnessed one was subsumed by the barrier...

‘Is this the past?’ He wondered. ‘Is that even possible?’

He stood up and checked himself, leaving the question aside for the moment. He still had his shotgun, sniper rifle, hand-cannon and daggers. He was a little ruffled but uninjured.

What… what had that place been? And those voices? He shook his head. A question for another time. Right now, he had to figure out what was going on and where he was.

“Hello?!” he called out. He cursed himself for his stupidity. If this was somewhere hostile, he might have just given himself away. Still. He unholstered the hand-cannon and drew out ‘speed-killer’, spinning it in his hand. Whatever was here… he’d deal.

“H-Help!” a voice cried out from nearby. “I can’t get up! Is anyone there!?”

It sounded like someone was in trouble. 'Five minutes - I've been here five bloody minutes.'

“Hello?” he called out, moving in the direction of the cry. He started jogging. “Is someone there?”

“Y-yes! I washed up on shore, I… I can’t get up!” the voice stated. “Who’re you?”

It was then that Elliot came upon the person who was crying out; it was an average looking man with brown hair, white glasses with one of their lenses cracked, a white collared shirt, black jeans and a pair of dress shoes - his tie was also black… and he was soaked… and he could barely crawl.

“My name’s David!” Elliot cried out. “Hang on, I’ll try and help.”

He moved next to the man, trying to assess his injuries.

“Thank God! I was worried I was stuck here alone or something, do you know why you’re on this beach?” the average looking man asked, while Elliot saw that his back was… off.

“Why I’m on the beach?” Elliot asked. “Long story, I expect. Here, your back is injured - can you feel anything below the waist?”

He gritted his teeth, “I think, I can feel my soaked socks on my toes. Still hurts though," he answered, before noticing the arsenal. “Whoa, you expecting an ambush or something?”

“Hm?” Elliot said, before looking at his weapons. “Oh. Or something. Now…” He looked the man over. “Back injury, non paralytic, no way to safely move him… damn.” He flexed his hands. “Ok… this might be weird. I’m gonna need to set your back straight. That will hurt. Then I’m going to fix it. That might hurt. I need you to be as still as possible while I’m doing these things, clear?”

“Uhhh sure," the man said, sounding a bit unsure.

Elliot began by gently (or as gently as possible) popping the disjointed vertebra back into position. The man hissed in pain, but remained mostly still. Then, with a deep breath, Elliot laid his hands on the man’s back. A soft golden glow emitted from his hands for a moment, and then was gone. Elliot stood up, stumbling slightly, before falling over on the beach further up the shoreline, feeling utterly drained.

“Ow…” he said quietly.

The man blinked, before starting to get up slowly - he saw Elliot’s faltering form.

"Oh! Hold on David, uh.” He dug into his pocket and took out a vial full of a green pill. “Here, eat this. It’ll fix you up.”

He took out a pill from the vial and gave it to Elliot.

A little suspiciously but sensing no ill-intent, Elliot took the pill. A moment later, the energy drain he felt dissipated, and he could have sworn the ache that had settled into his body lessened somewhat.

"Huh," he said. "Thanks.”

“No problem, name’s George, George Siskel van Reiziger by the way," he introduced himself, before offering Elliot a hand.

“David Elliot, technically Major David Elliot,” Elliot replied, taking the hand and pulling himself up. “Where are we anyway?”

“I… I don’t know.” George looked around, scratching his scalp with his right hand. “I can’t think of many places that would have a beach front as a setting that I haven’t been at already.” He looked at Elliot. “By the way, uh… what was that you used on me? Magic?”

“Something like that,” Elliot replied. He wanted to keep lengthy explanations out of the way until he knew more about his location. “Just a couple of questions I need to ask.”

“Go ahead, but I think we should get going towards the beach - maybe we’ll see a city.” George states.

“No point going to a city if you don’t know what you’ll meet,” Elliot said darkly, looking around. “Alright. First off, what year are we in?”

“If I had to guess, probably a modern time - a decade into the future or something. 2000s’? 2013 at most,” he stated.

“Guess?” Elliot frowned. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Uh… no,” George frowns. “What you think I’m a local here? I’m as foreign as you are.”

“Figures," Elliot muttered. "Ok, so I suppose the names Celestia, Solamina or Twilight Sparkle don’t mean much to you?”

“Ummm, no… but- wait… actually.” He stopped to ponder for a moment. “I think I may know a Twilight, but when was it? Thirty movies ago?” George looked to his hands. “I’m not animated this time, so I guess not.” He muttered, looking himself over

“...movies?”

“Oh… well, Dave its a long story - I’ll tell you about it later; just know that I’ve been popping into a bunch of places for no rhyme or reason.” George explained, “One of the earlier ones I appeared in was… I dunno, I think it had something to do with the British Isles with the Nazis occupying it or something.” His grey eyes look at Elliot. “Where are you from? A war?”

“You might call it that,” Elliot said, frowning. This was weird. "So you've never heard the name Solamina?"

“Have you ever heard of the Ark of the Covenant getting blown up with an RPG?” Georgie asked, “No? Well I did that, but I’ve never heard of anyone named Solamina.”

“Really?” Elliot asked. He frowned. “Not even once?”

Georgie just shook his head

"Hell," Elliot murmured to himself. He frowned, scratching his stubble as he thought it over. Could be the past. Could be a parallel universe - that had been a weird conversation with the Doctor, and though he didn't rate that talk much before now... well. He'd have to reconsider. "And it could be any time..."

“Time is weird, I’ve been to some many different eras in different moves - would you be surprised at how many World War II flicks there are?” The man asked, “It’s crazy, so where are you from then?”

“Britain. We’re fighting…” He paused, and smirked. “God, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like this. We’re fighting pastel ponies from another world that assimilate people. They conquered the rest of the planet but Britain is immune to their big wall of death, so they settled for more traditional means.”

“...So it’s like the Matrix but with ponies?” he asked, not sure how to take being told that his new friend had been fighting against cartoonish horses.

“Ha. No such luck. Nobody’s nearly as beautiful as in the Matrix films,” Elliot said with a short laugh. “Feels more like a fuckin’ Warhammer game or something, truth be told. Maybe Gears of War? Dunno what pop culture reference’d be appropriate, that was always more Sam’s schtick…”

He trailed off, his expression falling slightly.

“A friend of yours? One that got turned and you had to kill him?” George guessed.

“Something like that,” Elliot said quietly. “Anyway - if you don’t know the name Solamina and you’re not local there’s not much more to ask.” He took out his shotgun and handed it to the man. “Since we don’t know where we are, might I advise prudence?”

George took the shotgun and cocked it. He looked to Elliot.

“Well," he said, "I think right now the two of us should head away from the water - it’s something that keeps happening in movies, there will be something if you leave the waves.”

He started to walk opposite to the sea, his wet dress shoes taking sand as he continued on.

“If my life were a movie, it might feel less like shit,” Elliot muttered. “But whatever man.”

***

Elliot and George continued their long trek from the beach away from water.

“So, you want to shed some more light on why you’re fighting a bunch of Technicolor Cartoonish Horses, why they want to convert you and who this Solamina person is?” the man asked the Avatar. “Cause, I’d like to know why you have access to magic and all.”

“There was an island,” Elliot began, shrugging slightly. “No one ever figured out where it came from. It just appeared. And there was a portal there. Nothing we had would go through it - not people, not material. It would just disintegrate. Then the ponies came. They were actually kinda nice.”

“They always are,” George said, scowling and recalling that rare time he actually did appear in something else besides a movie… damn reptile aliens in human suits. “Let me guess, they were polite and all before they struck you in the back?”

“Something like that,” Elliot said quietly. “The portal… the barrier that prevented anything, anyone from getting through… it expanded. Like a pink wall of death.”

“…I take it the thing would destroy all that it touched?”

“Everything,” Elliot said morosely. “And everyone. Cities. Farms. Cars. People… everything.”

George paled over hearing that - a pink barrier that would literally erase all that it touched… that was beyond horrible - like a Death Star firing without blowing up a planet but still killing it.

“The whole world,” Elliot said quietly. “Only two ways out. Death… or conversion.”

“Right… I remember you mentioning that - so what? The stuff they use causes you to lose yourself and turn into a mindless drone?” Georgie guessed. “Seeing how humanity in your world is kind of screwed something like that would obviously happen.”

“Not quite mindless,” Elliot said with a frown. “But… yeah. How…?”

“Let’s just say that after seeing some crap involving a bunch of Albinos and cubes along with having to get use to the idea of Reptiles in People suits you tend to figure out patterns that can happen if you’ve been movie jumping as long as I have,” the man said, scowling over having to deal with the Borg in that Star Trek film - bastards kept trying to assimilate him into their collective… it was a pain in the ass to deal with. “Also seeing who there was a point where I had to deal with men in bland that could become anyone… well, seems legit in this case.”

“You make it sound so… inconvenient,” Elliot murmured, a slight smile on his face.

“I’m a Best Buy Manager from the year 2013 that has spent what feels like ages going into like, I dunno, forty stand alone movies and a bunch of trilogies that I’ve basically seen enough of crap that has been done by this point to look psychic,” George said. “I’ve had to fight Nazis so many times it’s turned repetitive, I had to adjust to reliving the same day at one point and hell, I had to make sense of a serial killer’s mind at one point - I just want to go back to work in my world… this whole thing has been a pain in the ass and left me scars instead of honors. I’m not even a soldier when it all started, I’m a civilian that had to go through three separate World War 2 movies at one point while not knowing a single piece of French. So forgive me if I’m tired of it all but I am.”

“Could be worse,” Elliot shrugged.

“I’ve been mindraped by Freddy Krueger… I barely got out of that one alive,” he lampshaded. “I’d rather have to do your thing for a bit - at least it’d be PSTD and magic, not all sorts of crap.”

“I had to shoot my best friend in the head,” Elliot murmured. “I’d rather fight Freddy Krueger. Least that’d be a welcome change of pace from waking up to another explosion, having to kill a bunch of people, and seeing more of your friends die.”

“You sound like a World War II Vet crossed with a zombie apocalypse survivor - I haven’t been able to make any friends cause, oh yeah… I can’t bring anyone with me,” George scowled. “It’s against the Rules apparently, I’m stuck doing this gig on my own.”

Elliot looked at him for a moment, then started sniggering. That turned into a chuckle, and then a moment later he was laughing out loud.

“Oh shut up!” Georgie yelled. “Like you're one to talk!”

“Look at us playing the ‘I’ve got the biggest dick - sorry, I mean shit life - game’,” Elliot said, still laughing. “Man, this is fucked up. Let’s just say we both have it shit and move on - we’ll be at it all day reciting the worst things we can come up with -”

He was cut off by a coughing fit that overtook him. He covered his mouth with his hand, and scowled at the hand - it was covered in blood.

“You alright?” Georgie asked. “You want another pill?”

“I’m dying,” Elliot said conversationally. “But no, thanks. I reckon if your cure-all was gonna cure this all, I’d not be coughing up blood.”

“Eh, the pills are something I managed to figure out after getting enough crap together from various future movies and convincing some people to help me fix it.” He shrugged. “Apparently I can bring certain stuff with me - just not people or weapons; go figure.”

“Shame,” Elliot said, smirking. “I really love the phaser rifles from Star Trek: First Contact.”

“Eh, I’m partial to the blasters from Star Wars instead - they’re more custom. To state the whole ‘Rules’ thing is stuff I figured out after doing this stuff for so long… I can’t tell if I can’t die yet - never have and I’m not willing to go that far," George said. “Though I came close sometimes.”

“Wouldn’t chance it,” Elliot said. “Big deal, topping yourself. Slightly smaller deal, getting someone else to do it, but then they don’t do it the way you want it done, I guess. I mean, I can’t imagine Darth Vader would go ‘sure’ if you asked ‘can you just have me shot and not do the whole strangulation thing?’”

“I might ask him that, after the last world I went to - also one of the Rules is that just because you're immune to something from one movie doesn’t mean others from other worlds are immune,” Georgie said, recalling the time he kind of ruined the failed June Uprising in France… though he could do without hearing Russell Crowe singing. “Just trust me on that - it never ends well.”

"I'll take your word for it," Elliot said.

***

It would be a decent time for both Elliot and George until they reached any form of civilization - a beach resort of decent sizing in this case - which meant that their long walk was over and were on the right track.

However, it was too quiet for either of the displaced men’s liking - Elliot because of his nature as soldier and George because the last time he went to a building that was quiet… he got jumped.

“Well,” George began, look around the abandoned lodge. “Seems that we’re alone here,” he went to the front desk’s phone only to find that it had been cut. “And still cut off.”

“Zombie movie, anyone?” Elliot asked, getting surprisingly used to the concept. “You're the expert, what genre you call this?”

“I dunno; two guys appear on a beach - one of them is a Best Buy Manager that can’t catch a break and the other is a British Major that has been at war with cartoon horses for about three years…” Georgie stopped, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes at the absurdness of this whole thing.

“Our lives make no sense,” Elliot said, chuckling. “Ah well, most movies have something to shoot at - especially zombie movies.”

However, it would be then that George noticed something behind the front desk - it was a puddle of a purple liquid with a smashed vial and a woman, who given her uniform was probably a hotel staff member. She had an AMT Hardballer semi-automatic pistol in her hand and (perhaps more pertinently) was dead with a gunshot to her head.

“Uh, David,” George said, a frown on his face. “I think I may have figured out something.”

Elliot came over to where he was and saw the woman. His eyes flicked to the smashed vial, and he cursed, before looking around, eyes scanning for hostiles.

“Keep your guard up,” he said angrily. “This whole place could be full of Convies.”

“The converted people right?” George asked, his shotgun ready.

“Aye,” Elliot said tightly. “That’s ponification potion. If she’s dead, she probably shot herself to avoid the change. Either that or she was shot by someone else before she could. Either way, pastel ponies on the conversion path have been here.”

George took the Hardballer and an additional .45 ACP magazine from the woman before offering them to Elliot.

“You may something to go with you Hand-Cannon, in case you run out of bullets for it," he said with a slight smile.

Elliot took the pistol and smirked, before holstering it and drawing the hand-cannon with a scowl.

“Like I said,” he said, “keep your guard up. That stuff hits you, you’re dead.”

A few moments later, the two men heard what sounded like gunshots and screaming - it looked like they weren’t alone.

“Should we check it out?” George asked.

“Might be the only sign of life we’ve seen,” Elliot said darkly. “Come on.”

He jogged toward the source of the noise.

***

The two men reached the source - another hall in the hotel - a moment later, only to find a grizzly scene with a woman in hysterics. Judging by her uniform she also worked at the hotel, most likely a maid. She was armed with what looked like a bolt action rifle, and was crying. Before her was a man in a bellhop uniform - dead from a gunshot wound - who had an open vial of potion with him.

“Geez," George said in reaction to the scene, the woman with her back to the wall and sobbing - the rifle in her hands. He turned to Elliot. “Should we…?”

“Ma’am,” Elliot said slowly, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace and moving to stand in front of her. “Ma’am!”

She looked up at the two men and reacted almost immediately, the rifle aimed right at Elliot.

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” she cried, “I’LL SHOOT YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“Ma’am,” Elliot said carefully, “I’m not PER. I’m not one of them. I’m on your side. You need to calm down. We can help you, I swear, but you need to calm down…”

“That’s what Jimmy said!” she shouted. “He found me! He told me it was Richie’s fault… that he was a part of those bastards!” She sobbed uncontrollably. “THE BASTARD HAD ME HERE TO BE HIS!”

“Ma’am,” Elliot said quietly, “I promise you on God’s green Earth, I am not PER and I am not here to hurt you. I promise you that. I am here to save you and everyone else I can.” He widened his arms in a gesture of openness. “If you really want, you can shoot me. I won’t stop you. But I can help you.”

She looked at George who just slowly put his shotgun down before raising his hands up. The woman looked at them before finally lowering her arm and going back into hysterics.

“Does this happen a lot in your place?” George whispered to Elliot.

“Eh,” Elliot muttered. “Fourteen million humans left. We passed histrionics a while back.”

“Ah.”

***

The woman - who had introduced herself as Cameron - had them with her in the resort’s cafe and was currently serving both men different coffees; George having a half and half while Elliot had his coffee black (was good for his nerves, surprisingly).

“Thanks Cameron,” George said, accepting the glass and stirring it with his spoon.

“I’ll need to start by asking the year, ma’am,” Elliot said, frowning slightly. “Might be an odd question, but I think my friend and I would both appreciate it.”

Cameron took a deep breath and then took a seat across from them both. “It’s the year 2021 AD,” she said as a matter of fact, “It’s been about forty years since the Great Merger… why do you need to know again?” She shot them a look.

“We’ve been stuck on a strange remote island for what what felt like the past month when in truth it was back in the 70s’, we only managed to escape because of a boat we found with a hole in it… and he figured out how to patch it with a coconut.” George said rather quickly, “And before you ask we’re dressed like this because the boat had weapons and clothes on it, though since I lost the coin toss he gets to look less conspicuous.” He jabbed a thumb in Elliot’s direction

Elliot raised an eyebrow, before grinning sheepishly. “Yeah… what he said.”

Cameron blinked, it wasn’t the strangest thing she heard… but it would do for now, “Okay… so I take it you don’t know about the Great Merger?”

“Can’t say I do,” Elliot said, his smile fading. He leaned forward. “But I’d appreciate it if you could tell me everything. I get the feeling it’s going to be important…”

Author's Note

And thus a cliffhanger, hope the pacing isn't too fast.

The first act begins and with it this strange new world along with two new allies who will stand beside Elliot during his journey: one of them a native guild and the other a survivor like him; they match his character rather well don't you think?

Act 1, Chapter 2

Act I,
Terra 3: A New World.
Chapter 2 - An Advancement.

Written by:
TheIdiot
&
Jed R.

“Facts which at first seem improbable will, even on scant explanation, drop the cloak which has hidden them and stand forth in naked and simple beauty.”
Galileo Galilei

“Escaping goblins to be caught by wolves!” he said, and it became a proverb, though we now say ‘out of the frying-pan into the fire’ in the same sort of uncomfortable situations.
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit.

***

“About 40 years ago things changed,” Cameron began, “there was an event that had Earth be changed forever - different realities came together or something and mixed with our… or something, it still isn’t all too clear.” She shrugged. “Eventually things came together I guess, but you can imagine when, lo and behold, another world appeared off the shore of the pacific a few years later… and it had pastel colored ponies who, at first, all looked very friendly and nice and kind and wanted to be peaceful.”

“Sooo what happened?” George asked.

Cameron sighed. “Well, at first we thought - hey, it’s another world on top of ours so why not? Wouldn’t harm us… and then came the crazies, the ‘Humane’ Militia Defense Forces.” She shook her head. “Idiots were a pain in the ass that was just remnants of other crazy groups from the previous worlds, thought that the ponies were evil and no one could be trusted if they even knew a pony. After that, everything fell apart.”

Elliot said nothing, frowning as he heard the story. It sounded familiar. Too familiar.

“After they assaulted the Equestrian Embassy and killed them all, they took one of them captive - what was her name? It was Dusk Shine or something…” Cameron contemplated, trying to recall the specific name.

“Twilight Sparkle?” George supplemented. Elliot frowned slightly - the name had connotations for him, but he didn’t say anything: this wasn’t his world, and for all he knew, this Sparkle wasn’t the monster he had faced before…

‘Some hope,’ some part of him thought nastily.

“Yeah, that’s it - Celestia, their ruler, was furious and wanted the Militia to be destroyed… and that was what happened, every last one of them was captured, tried and carted off to the Raft.” Cameron stated. “Rumor has it that their leaders didn’t commit suicide and are still hiding. But, that was when after Twilight was recovered - barely alive - Celestia’s curveball that she had been working on for the past few months was unleashed. The ponification potion.” She frowned. “You see, for some strange reason their world wasn’t accessible due to this pink barrier around it and if anyone tried to touch it, they’d be reduced to dust or ash, depends sometimes I guess. The potion was made so that people could turn into a pony and go to the other side.”

“What happened then?” Elliot asked, already sort of suspecting the answer to the question but needing to be certain.

“Well, then more crazies came out - this time some… misanthropic woman that apparently thought ponies were better than humanity, took control of some group a guy started out of good intentions and formed the equivalent of the freaking PETA nutjobs," she explained. “They did all sorts of horrible stuff, poisoned a small town’s water supply so that they’d be converted… thank god that didn’t happen to my family," Cameron muttered. “Attacked a transport containing Militia members to convert them because they ‘needed to pay for what they did’... it was like a nightmare all over again.”

“Sooo, they were terrorists basically?” George asked.

“I guess,” Cameron replied.

“Alright,” Elliot said. “So. What happened here?”

“Well, the PER decided that this hotel off the tropical coast would be a fine place to set up a base," Cameron explained. “They, some Royal Guards, and some Glue-freaks planned out this whole thing with Jimmy as their inside man so that we’d stand no chance.”

“Sounds familiar,” Elliot muttered. “So. The Barrier - expanded? Not expanded?”

Cameron shoots Elliot a strange look. “What are you talking about? The barrier hasn’t moved an inch - hadn't grown or shrunk.”

“Right,” he said. “And the people who get converted. Anything up with them, like psychological differences?”

“Do they act weird? Not like themselves? Praise Celestia like she’s Jesus or something?” George added on.

“Well, for one thing they’re… inconsistent - sometimes one of them will be exactly like how they were before, sometimes one of them will be like an Alzheimer's patient… and then they’re the really, really freaky ones. The Glue-Freaks.” Cameron shuddered as if at some horrible memory.

“Glue-Freaks?” Elliot asked.

“They are really violent, they are really obsessed over Celestia and Equestria, really deadly, and… can have a tendency to crave meat,” she explained.

“...It’s like something out of a horror film.” George lampshaded.

“Fun,” Elliot said. He sighed. Too much added up in unpleasant ways. If he was being generous, he might have suggested that this Celestia was somehow provoked into her actions, and certainly the static Barrier was a sign that she was less… dangerous. At the same time, Royal Guard and these… Glue-Freaks that Cameron described, helping PER… it sounded too similar. Too damn similar.

“Well,” he said. “I just need to know one thing from you, Ma’am.”

“Uh sure… what is it?” Cameron asked, a tad warily

“This Celestia,” Elliot said. “I want to know what you think. Is she evil or is she not?”

“...I don’t know. She was very social, very kind and certainly well mannered I guess. She made every effort to be good - had you asked me this a year before the Militia showed up, I would say no she’s not evil in a heartbeat.” Cameron answered. "But, now… well, she hasn’t left Equestria ever since Twilight was recovered, she hasn’t responded to the Glue-Freaks or PER, and ultimately hasn’t said a single thing to anyone that is outside of the barrier. Though, there is this rumor that she may have been to an Earth before.”

“What do you mean?” George asked.

“Well, she always seemed aware of humanity - she didn’t react as bad as everyone thought when she learned of our history and insisted on creating the Embassy only three weeks after first contact with Equestria was made,” Cameron explained. “It left some people uneasy - we thought that maybe, just maybe… she may have been to an Earth before ours and converted it into a New Equestria or something.”

“I see,” Elliot said. He rolled his shoulders and sighed. “Looks like I’ve only got one choice then.”

“Kill her?” George guessed.

“If she makes me,” Elliot said quietly, not looking at him. “I’ll confront her with this. Demand she account. Confront her with her actions in my world. If she repents, she’s not evil. If not, then I can save this world from what happened to mine. Either way, my destination is clear. I have to go to Canterlot.”

However, there was then a tingling on the air - Elliot frowned: precognition wasn't exactly a standard feeling for him, but he was getting this feeling of foreboding… something was coming. Something bad.

Before anyone could react, a Pegasus flew in and tackled him to the ground, doing in a manner that made him lose his guns.

George took out his shotgun… only to get hit in the back of his head by a potted plant via magic. Cameron was grabbed by an Earth Pony, yelling slightly.

What Elliot could tell about his attacker was that the Pegasus that had him pinned had bloodshot eyes, horrible breath, teeth that looked more Omnivore than what a Convie - or any pony - would have, and bags under his eyes.

Oh, also it was also trying to bite his ear off.

With a snarl, Elliot unleashed a shockwave that blew the thing off of him, before leaping to his feet. In an instant, his daggers were in his hand. One of them flew into the eye of the Earth Pony grabbing Cameron, and he charged at the Unicorn who had attacked George, gripping the other dagger in a reverse grip and bringing it down in a move that impaled the creature’s skull.

“Take cover!” he yelled to the other two. “Now!”

Cameron did as she was told, George on the floor groaning with blood coming down the back of his head. The Pegasus simply looks at George and flies right at him, it looks like it wants some of the guy’s leg.

“Fuck,” Elliot swore. He held out a hand, and his hand cannon and the Hardballer flew to his hands. He grabbed them, and fired the hand-cannon at the Pegasus, clipping it’s wing and sending it flying into the ground head first. He aimed the semi-auto pistol and shot another pony in the head.

“Fuck you!” he yelled. “Fucking zombie bastards!”

The Pegasus refused to give up and galloped. right at Georgie. It was about to take a chomp out of his neck when -

*BANG!*

It fell over dead, a hole blasted in its skull. Cameron had managed to recover her rifle and save George, though she still looked shell shocked at having killed another creature.

“Anyone else?” Elliot called, throwing his arms wide in challenge.

Good news, there weren’t any more… bad news, Elliot had just seen something possibly worse than the Convies from back home. Those things were... insane.

Cameron dropped her rifle and hugged herself, tears welling in her eyes over having to shoot something that was once human… and possibly could've been someone she knew.

“You alright?” Elliot asked.

“I… I need a moment,” she whimpered. “I’ll be okay soon… just… give me a moment.”

“George?” Elliot asked.

“Ugggh," the man groaned. “David, did one of them hit me in the back of the head with a pot?”

“You know, I reckon they might have,” Elliot smirked.

“I really don’t like it here," George complained. “I’d rather settle for that occupied British Isles I was at some time ago.”

“This is pretty nice compared to my home,” Elliot said with a grin. “Usually the Convies are smarter.” His smile vanished. “Cameron, is there a way out of here? We need to get to a major population centre.”

She wiped a tear out of her eye. "There... there may be a way. Jimmy bragged that the hotel buses were disabled, I think he forgot about the promotional car though.” She picked up her rifle and swallowed, composing herself. "It’s in the west lounge.”

“Right then,” Elliot said with a smirk. “Time to go driving.”

***

After they had seen to their various injuries, and gathered some supplies for the journey, the three were off on the road in the promotional car - it was a rather garishly painted Camaro. Thankfully, Elliot was willing to let Cameron drive, seeing how he was the best shot of the group (and, though he wouldn’t have said it, he was probably the worst driver - Hell Blazer had once said he would have preferred “pulling a fucking cart myself to being in the backseat of anything you’re driving”. He missed Hell Blazer).

George was in the back, sleeping after getting his head wound treated. It hadn’t been serious looking, but Elliot knew from experience that “not serious looking” could turn to “coma” if one wasn’t careful. Fortunately, it didn’t look that bad from closer inspection, and George had taken one of his pills, claiming that “it’ll be fine after a nap”. Elliot didn’t know what to make of that, but he had seen weirder stuff before.

“You know… Elliot,” Cameron began, eyes focused on the road. “You didn’t show much concern when I talked about Twilight Sparkle back there.”

“Concern?” Elliot asked.

“Well, George had some of it - I mean come on; she was an innocent that was brutalized for no good reason. You… you just moved a hand to your coat,” she pointed out.

Elliot blinked. He hadn’t realised he had done that. It was something of a ‘tell’, he supposed. Still, no sense hiding the truth of it.

“Where I’m from,” he said, “Twilight Sparkle is… not an innocent.”

“Where you’re from?” Cameron repeated.

Elliot blinked, wondering how best to explain this.

“I’m… from another universe,” he said, smiling almost apologetically. To his surprise, however, Cameron simply nodded and shrugged.

“Okay,” she said. “That kinda makes sense.”

Elliot raised an eyebrow. “That… wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

She chuckled. “Elliot, it has been years since the event occurred and multiple worlds merged to make this one - Equestria itself is from another universe; it’s not very surprising a traveler would come one day.”

“It’s scary how much sense that makes,” Elliot said slowly, chuckling himself.

“So what is Sparkle in your world, then? Adolf Hitler?” Cameron joked lightly.

“More like Hermann Goering,” Elliot said, his smile fading. “Right hand - or hoof - to Astra Solamina Maxima, Empress of Equestria and one of the leaders of their genocidal war on humanity, along with her five friends, the Element Bearers.” His hand twitched on his coat again. “I… have had dealings with them.”

“What’d you do? Cut off their heads and put them on pikes or something as a warning?” Cameron guessed. “You act like you teabagged their corpses once you killed them.”

“Not quite,” Elliot said tiredly. He opened the jacket and showed off five manes, each of them somewhat bloodstained. “I just gave them all haircuts. Permanent haircuts.”

Cameron saw this out of the corner of her eye, and her face paled, her eyes widening in shock. She slowed the car down, pulling over to the side of the empty road.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to take care of something,” she said quietly, exiting the car. A moment later, Elliot heard the sound of her throwing up.

Elliot sighed. “Better than some reactions I’ve had.”

“Whuh?” came George’s voice from the backseat. “What’s going on?”

“Travelsickness,” Elliot said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Oh… okay,” George yawned before dozing off again.

***

A few hours later, Elliot found himself staying by the car while Cameron went in to pay for gas. He had never been to America - the huge distances the place encompassed were breathtaking, he had to admit, but it did make driving around a headache. Still, there seemed to be enough petrol stations (gas stations, he reminded himself) to service their needs.

According to Cameron, they were approaching Los Perdidos - one of the key areas that came into existence due to the event from years ago; it was head within a quarantine and, according to Cameron, was best left avoided considering what might be there (if there was anything left there at all: Cameron hadn’t been sure, but she hadn’t sounded like she wanted to chance it). Unfortunately, their route would take them near the city before leading them to a more habitable place. This was the last gas station before the city.

Elliot sighed. He looked at the manes in his coat before buttoning the thing up, wondering when he had become so… blase about the fact that he carried these trophies. Cameron’s reaction only served as a reminder of how much his life - everyone’s life back home, really - had changed.

He had fought the war for a long time - it was strange being somewhere where such death and horror wasn’t the only way of life people knew, where what he had done was considered so… horrible. He wondered to himself whether he would ever be free of what the war had done to him.

Not, of course, that he expected to survive the war. Even as he thought it, he began another coughing fit, and looked at his hand with tired eyes as flecks of blood settled there. He wiped them off and hackled once more to clear his throat. Death was inevitable - he had known it for a long time, and yet he kept going. If he didn’t do something, no one would.

‘What about this Celestia?’ he wondered to himself. Would she be willing to repent, to change, to stop the evils she was letting pass? Might she even be willing to help his world, if travelling between worlds was possible so easily?

Or… would she be a Tyrant, a Tyrant who had slain one world and was here to… what? Fix her mistakes? Repent them? Repeat them? She had taken no action here, supposedly, but… but what did that mean? Did it mean anything? Was she merely biding her time, or was this her new leaf…?

He sighed. More likely than not, he would find another Tyrant Sun. If that was the case, he would fight her, and if fate was kind, he would kill her. If fate was not kind… then he would die. And this Earth and his Earth would die too, bereft of its champion so.

“Why do I have to bear the weight of the world on my shoulder?” he wondered aloud. “Why do I have to be Atlas?”

“Are you alright?” a voice asked. “You may want to see a doctor about the weight on your shoulders.”

Elliot turned to see a mare - she had a peachy colored coat, a blonde mane with a red streak through it, and green eyes, with a cutie mark of a starlight - standing before him, her eyes full of concern.

“You look like you could use somepony to talk to, sir,” she said softly, her tone not like a convie, with a sincerity to it that seemed natural for her for some unknown reason.

“Perhaps I do,” he said amiably. “But the things I have on my plate aren’t things I could burden just about anyone - or anypony - with.”

“Oh trust me,” She blows a piece of her mane out of her face. “I’m older than you think, and have done some things I’m not too proud of these days too. My name is… well, it’s Shining Starlight, but I like to be called Rebecca Morning Star these days - feels better for me I guess.”

She sat on her haunches, smiling up at him.

“You picked a human name?” Elliot asked with a smirk.

“What? If humans are able to take pony names, then why can’t I do it in reverse?” she said, taking a light hearted jab at him.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he said, holding up a hand. “I just can’t say I ever met a pony who’d take a human name. Unless… well, I knew one fella who preferred his human name, but he was a Convie with a little more to him than you’d think.”

“He must’ve been a lucky one or an unlucky one then.” She gave a small chuckle. “The Converted are always a risky gamble - never know if you’ll be yourself or you’ll turn into a monster.”

“He was a lucky sod, yeah,” Elliot said with a smile. “Though he wouldn’t have called himself that.”

“Probably liked his old face for, what’d you call it… poker is it? No one could take him seriously as a converted,” she said simply. “Though if he can play his cards right he could get himself a herd.”

“I think he probably liked having the ability to get plastered more,” Elliot said. “Still.” He smirked. “Yeah, there might be a lot I have to talk about, but I doubt you’d get most of it.”

“Could I guess at least?” Rebecca asked.

“Why not?” Elliot said.

“Well, you probably have trouble dealing with things - you're dying, the PER is running amuck, there is the fear that Celestia may turn out to be a Tyrant and of course there is the trouble back in Britain; there is a lot on your plate Major. A lot,” the mare stated very thoroughly.

Elliot blinked, before frowning. “Alright, I’ll bite. How do you know?”

“Like I said, I’ve done things I’m not proud of too these days,” Rebecca answered. “Every day I wake up with the question of - why do I have to hold the weight of so many on her shoulders, why me? Or, if today I’ll be able to have a break from it all. I guess it just takes someone who has a full plate to understand and get someone else who has to carry so many issues,” she said simply, with a sad smile full of hidden wisdom and understanding. “Also, you being a Major was just a blind guess on my half… sir. Military bearing and all. Plus, ‘Major’ is the coolest sounding rank.”

“Huh,” Elliot said, smirking. “Alright.” He paused, leaning backward. “The weight of the world. I hate the weight of the world.”

“Well, sometimes you need to just say that if you don’t hold the weight of the world… who else will? It’s a big responsibility that not many can have the strength to bear,” she commented. “I should know - I’m one of them… especially one of them.”

Rebecca wiped a tear out of her eye, looking half surprised to see it there, as though it had simply popped out of its own volition.

“The world needs people to keep it going, sometimes,” Elliot sighed. “Oh well. I guess we can get drunk at some point.”

Rebecca just snorted in response to Elliot’s suggestion. “I’d join you, but apparently I’m a mean type of drunk when I get too much in my system.”

“I just get morose,” he replied.

“Better than violent,” she said with a shrug.

“I’ve known violent drunks,” he said with a sigh. “I’m violent enough when I’m sober, some might say.”

“Ah, but are you violent for good reasons?” she asked, raising a knowing eyebrow at him.

Elliot whistled. “I like to think so. But sometimes…”

“Sometimes, it’s hard knowing when to step back and when to get involved,” she put in. “Sometimes it’s hard knowing what to do when all your choices seem wrong.”

“Sometimes,” Elliot agreed.

For a long moment, the two of them were silent, each lost in their own private contemplations.

“Well, I believe it’s time for me to go sir,” the mare stated after a moment more. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

She bowed, almost old-fashionedly.

“See ya,” Elliot replied, smirking slightly. It had been an odd conversation, but… somehow, he felt better.

Rebecca trotted away, teleporting a few moments later. Almost immediately after that, Cameron returned.

“Hello,” Elliot said. “We set?”

“Just about, start filling the car up Elliot.” Cameron instructed, getting back into the drivers seat. “We have a long way to go.”

“So, this Los Perdidos place,” Elliot asked. “I get that it’s quarantined, but why is it so bad that we have to go near it?”

“You…” Cameron began, then she sighed. “You really don’t want to know.”

***

January 23rd, Year 6 of the New Solaminan Calendar (Human Calendar 2030).

There was something wrong and she knew it. The world felt different, like a tingle in the air, the sense that there was something more going on than she had previously accounted for.

There were some who questioned why she had never herself gone forth to finish the little British Isles personally - and the reason was that she knew she didn’t need to. There was no reason to go there; her armies were performing their duties admirably without her personal intervention. Now, though…

She had ordered her forces to withdraw from the Isles, interrupting her campaigns. There was more to this tingle, more to this lingering bad feeling, than met the eye. She had ordered Commander Sparkle to have all forces on defensive standby while she prepared a new stratagem. Commander Sparkle thought that she intended to review her maps and her positions and make certain that her plans were either effective or at the very least competent. The truth of the matter was hardly so… mundane.

She stood before a large set of double doors, each one covered in a variety of strange runic symbols that nopony now living - save for her - knew the meaning of. Even she could only guess some of these symbols - they came from a time before recorded history, last remnants of the ancient magics of the Asyram Empire and the Draconissian Dominions, their power beyond reckoning. Only Starswirl had truly understood these runes (though Solamina knew others - herself, Luna, and many of her former students included - had tried over the years to divine their meaning), and the old mage was long since gone, lost to the annals of history and the vagaries of this thing’s twisted whims.

It was the Heart of the World, a device that would lay open space and time for Solamina’s perusal. Luna had used it once, and only once, and the device had driven her insane. Before that, it had been the creation of Starswirl, and he had himself only barely understood what he had created. Solamina, though, had spent years deciphering it, and had finally come to realise that, with willpower and focus, one could bend it to one’s will. IT was risky… but much had to be risked in war.

“So then,” she said softly to herself. “Soon, we shall find the source of this disturbance - and we shall crush it.”

Author's Note

Dun dun duuunnnn!

Solamina is onto Elliot!

Act 1, Chapter 3

Act I,
Terra 3: A New World
Chapter 3 - The Death of Day

Written by:
TheIdiot
&
Jed R.

“Panic on the streets of London
Panic on the streets of Birmingham
I wonder to myself
Could life ever be sane again?”
The Smiths, Panic.

“They’re coming to get you Barbara.”
Johnny, George A. Romero’s “Night Of The Living Dead”.

***

Elliot opened his eyes.

The first thing he felt was a ringing headache, as though someone had taken a hammer to the back of his head. He groaned loudly, looking around, and his eyes widened when he realised that he was still in the car - and that it had gone off the road, smashed into a lamp-post and been essentially wrecked.

“Crap,” he said quietly. He noticed immediately that Cameron and George were absent, but there was no sign of where they could have gone.

He pulled himself out of the car, wincing from a half dozen minor injuries. The worst was a slight sprain to his ankle. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the power build up enough to heal his injuries. A moment later he looked around, frowning, before his eyes fell upon the towering skyscrapers now less than a mile off that signalled the main part of the city of Los Perdidos.

“Oh shit,” he said quietly as he remembered...

***

Fifteen minutes earlier.

The car continued its drive on the road, passing by a rusted old metal wall and into the edges of the abandoned city before slowly - it was almost as if the vehicle itself was trying to be stealthy out of fear of being noticed by… something.

Despite just seeing the city in the distance, Elliot didn’t like it; he could tell the atmosphere was eerie - like another horror film almost.

“...Okay I’ll bite, why in the hell is this city a ghost town practically?” George asked, as the car passed by an old pile up.

“Los Perdidos is one of the fused areas from the event, it was in the middle of a zombie apocalypse - no one really came here because of the fear that it might happen again,” Cameron explained, on alert. “Doesn’t help that there were rumors of psychopaths running around that did horrible things. Hell, there were only a few people here to begin with, and even less remained… but, it could never be settled for some reason.”

“Wait a minute,” Elliot said, eyes widening slightly. “Did you just say ‘zombie apocalyspe’? Tell me that’s a metaphor.”

“Nope, Los Perdidos literally had undead human flesh craving zombies running around and attacking anything that wasn’t a zombie,” she answered, eyes on the road. “Besides… this place always manages to have another one happen somehow… the army comes in to kill every last, a while later it’d happen all over again.” Cameron sighed, “No one knows why though.”

“Fuck,” Elliot said quietly. “So… what’s there now?”

“If we’re lucky, it’ll just be a city that has the population of a small town and is mostly abandoned… realistically we’re probably going to see some Glue Freaks or PER.” Cameron responded

“Well,” Elliot muttered, “those I can handle. Actual undead… that’s a little too…”

Was it really more than he could handle? As Avatar he had seen some strange things. But then again, strange was relative - pastel ponies was one thing, zombies an entirely different one.

“Well, I’ve fought some zombies before - they’re actually not so bad if you know what you’re dealing with.” George interjected. “Worst case scenario they’d be like those Rage Zombies from 28 Days Later - those fuckers can run, really fast.”

“Wonderful,” Elliot said. “How long?”

“That depends, how fast can you run and how long can you do it?” he asked, a serious expression present.

“Fairly when necessary,” Elliot replied, frowning. He flexed a hand unconsciously - this was setting off so many alarm bells he was surprised he wasn’t already punching a window out and aiming his shotgun, but -

Suddenly there was an explosion somewhere in the distance. Elliot tensed.

“What the hell was that?!” George called out.

Before any of them could say anything else, an assault vehicle of some kind came seemingly from nowhere and rammed into the car - forcing it to the side.

“Shit!” Cameron yelled. “Hang on!”

She tried desperately to regain control of the car, but it was too late - they careened off the road, slamming into a nearby lamppost, knocking most of them unconscious. Elliot whacked his head into the chair in front of him, before the back of his head impacted heard into the chair’s headrest as well. He blinked, dazed, and could hardly stay conscious as he saw the assault vehicle pull up. Some people and ponies - mostly likey PER - exited the assault vehicle and began to approach the now wrecked car…

“Get the woman and one of the men out.” One of the ponies, a white coated and blonde maned pegasus, ordered.

“There’s one in the back seat,” one of the people said, spying Elliot

“He’s probably dead, leave him,” she said, a bloodshot look in her eyes.

And then Elliot passed out.

***

He remembered now. The PER - he assumed they were PER - had come and taken George and Cameron. The more pessimistic side of him was already certain that they were probably dead or worse - the PER wasn’t exactly slow when it came to that sort of thing. Still, he wasn’t prepared to give up on them.

Assuming they hadn’t just driven off into the sunset with his friends, the only place they could be was… the city. Los Perdidos.

Well. Shit.

He didn’t want to go into the city, truth be told. The thing was big, ugly, and frankly scared the shit out of him. If Cameron had been telling the truth (and there was no reason to assume she’d been lying), then the place was the source of so much weird stuff that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much weird stuff there actually was.

But it was also the only place the PER could have taken his friends, and he wasn’t in the habit of leaving friends to their fates if he was still able to do something about it. He’d lost enough people.

“Right then,” he muttered, not entirely happy about what he was about to do. He checked his equipment - they’d taken the shotgun, but left him his daggers and pistols. “Time to see what’s out here.”

He walked off, away from the wrecked car, and hoped to God that he wasn’t making a really, really big mistake…

***

Los Perdidos was… odd, Elliot decided. For a city that had basically appeared in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse, and had never really had that much of a population, it wasn’t nearly as run down as one would think. The buildings were intact, the pavements, while dirty, weren’t weed-covered or wrecked… the place looked as though everyone had left yesterday.

Nonetheless, there were some signs of it being abandoned - there were some other crashed wrecks nearby, as well as some dead bodies - pony and human bodies were lying around, some suffering from what looked like bite and bullet wounds and some looking more like they’d been killed by some sort of bladed weapon. There was also a copious amount of shell casing - whatever had happened here, a lot of bullets had been fired.

Seems that there isn’t really a difference right now between the undead and the Glue Freaks all things considered, Elliot thought. Both were mentally compromised, and both wanted to consume flesh. Both were abominations that had been people, and both were threats.

Elliot hoped to God his friends hadn’t joined the latter’s number.

Drawing his handgun, Elliot began to make his way to a particularly gaudy building that caught his eye - it looked like a club of some sort, labeled ‘the Shiny Pearl’. Thankfully it seemed abandoned very thoroughly…

A few moments later, he entered the club, looking around. It looked like it might have been nice, once, but there was a lot of dust and a few overturned tables and chairs - like the place had been used as a defensive position when the apocalypse came.

It wasn’t entirely deserted though. There was one person there: a woman. She appeared to be wearing a white and light blue attire from the 19th/20th Century, her skin a pale complexion while being adorned with a crown, a necklace and jewels which stood out on her figure. Her eyes were an odd ruby red, though she wasn’t looking at Elliot, instead facing the side of the room while she took a sip from a glass of wine.

For some reason, Elliot had a sense of some strange feeling coming from her - one of… strife perhaps?

Still, no sense being coy. Keeping a hand on his gun, he coughed.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m lost, and I got in a car crash. Any chance you could give me a hand?”

The woman ignored Elliot, turning her back to him and taking another sip from her drink.

“Excuse me,” he repeated, his trigger-finger feeling itchy. Something was wrong here. He moved his other hand to one of his daggers. “I was wondering if you could give me some help...?”

“Perhaps I could if you decided to come to the bar and be more of a gentleman Mr. Elliot,” she answered, her tone akin to a woman of the 19th/20th century as well - her accent seemed a mixture between a noble French woman and an English received pronunciation accent.

Elliot scowled. She knew his name - that was almost never a good sign.

“You’ll forgive me if I’m cautious, ma’am,” he said slowly. “I’ve heard some interesting things about this town - and I’m fairly certain I didn’t say my name.”

“Oh of course you didn’t, I know your name - your title. I know about what besieges you back home too,” she stated. “It is unfortunate that your world is in such ruin Mr. Elliot, a Conquest done not by man but by steeds… it’s all very ridiculous if you catch my meaning.”

The woman finished her glass and used her napkin to gently dab at her mouth, before putting a gold coin on the counter as payment.

“Well,” Elliot said quietly, “I can’t disagree with you on that ma’am. Since we’re talking manners, though, I think it’s rather rude that you know so much about me and I don’t know anything about you.”

She turned, and Elliot saw her face properly for the first time. She looked haughty and regal, and looked to be somewhere in her mid to late 20s’. She gave a pleasant smile to the Avatar.

“Well then, I believe I should give you a clue as to who I am.” She cleared her throat and then began reciting. “I looked, and there was a white horse! Its rider had a bow; a crown was given to him, and he came out conquering and to conquer...”

With that said she began to make her way to the exit. It was a biblical reference, but Elliot wasn’t all that familiar. He frowned as she left, and moved to follow her.

To his surprise, there was a horse there waiting for the woman - it white as well and had a saddle of cheetah skin and the same shade of blue as her attire. Without any issue the woman mounted her steed and gave Elliot a final look.

“Remember!” she said portentously. “To come out conquering and to conquer, Mr. Elliot - not to Spread Disease. Remember that, it’ll be important.”

With that… the horse took off, leaving Elliot there alone.

“Well,” he said, frowning after the woman. “That was… interesting.”

He looked around, as though trying to find some evidence that any of that had been real and not just a figment of his imagination - and then he saw it. It looked like an arrow left behind, lodged in the wooden panel of a door.

He extracted the arrow carefully and examined it. It was made of wood, and was straight as one could imagine. Inscribed upon the shaft was a message simply asking: ‘Where to go?’

“Where indeed,” he muttered, looking in the direction the woman had ridden off in. There was no sign of the woman, but… but it was perhaps the only direction he could think to go. This was an unknown place, and he was lost in it.

“Hopefully,” he said to himself, “I’ll find the others on the way. Unless they were…”

He didn’t think about the possibility that his new friends might have been killed, ponified, or even that they might have got themselves into danger in the city. There was also a small part of him that suspected this entire thing might be some sort of trap - in fact, a trap seemed more likely than some of the things he had found himself dealing with these last few hours.

“Cynicism and paranoia are your worst enemies, Elliot,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Come on.”

He started walking in the direction the woman had ridden off in, determined to see what else was in this city…

***

Miles away, a mare stood on her balcony and looked out - she looked out and watched the stranger from another world continue on his path to find his friends and save them from a group of people and ponies in a city that always finds itself dead.

This mare wanted to help him. She wished more than anything that things were so simple as that: that she could simply go to him and help him in every way she could… but then again, she supposed with a wry, humourless smile, why would he want her help?

That group had claimed to be doing things in her name, that ponification was what humanity needed to do - no refusal… and even of she would tell them that she is not a ‘goddess’ nor wants these horrific acts they do.

When had things gone so complication?

...When was her life so simple? She could hardly remember back when things were so easier these days.

“Sister?” a voice said from behind her. “Art thou alright?”

This mare turned to see Princess Luna standing behind her, she had look of concern - a justified concern - present. It has been a long time since she’s spoken to her… perhaps they should talk more often.

“I’m… fine, Luna,” the mare responded, giving a tired and weary smile. “Just… thinking about those messages from Ponyville.”

“Which is why you’re here,” Luna said, raising an eyebrow. “What is wrong, sister? You gain nothing from shutting me out - believe me, I know.”

The mare gave a long sigh, she had become rather predictable these days as well…

“It’s… complicated Luna,” the mare responded. “Between the barrier, the PER and the lack of contact with… the others, I’m afraid the stress may finally be getting to me and eating away like a parasprite caught in a cave.” She looked to the Moon Diarch, “Has there been any word on Twilight’s recovery?”

“Nothing yet,” Luna said, “though I am assured she will recover well.” She paused, frowning at the figure that her sister had been observing. “Who is that human you were watching?”

“A visitor, one like us… he’s from another land - he’s the cause of that magic surge we felt earlier… and he may have great magic within him as well,” the mare explained, “I’ve seen him heal himself.”

“A human with magic?” Luna said, frowning doubtfully. “Curious. What is his intention, do you think?”

The mare shifted uncomfortably.

“His intention… is to find a way back home, and he would seek to judge… me,” she admitted, closing her eyes. “He may want to play the role of executioner based on what he learns and hears of me… it’s all between him and fate to make this choice.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “If he intends to threaten you… surely we must do something?”

The mare shook her head, “He has no means to get to Equestria, the barrier still holds true and his magic wouldn’t allow him access through it - they tried and failed to get in… and they will always fail; we are safe Luna…” She paused, doubt over those words was present in her mind. “It will be alright, I promise you.”

“I… will trust your judgement in this, sister,” the Moon Diarch said, “though I am still not entirely certain.” She paused. “What if you are wrong, though? What if he does gain access to Equestria, what if he does find some way to confront you?”

“Then I will meet him on even ground, he may come to our kingdom… but he will not be treated above us - there are limits to how a guest may act,” the mare stated, “I will talk to him and should he try to murder me in cold blood… he will pay dearly for it, him and humanity.”

***

The city continued to be a mystery for Elliot - there were definitely still signs that it had been abandoned, but it was still too clean, too… strange.

After walking for what felt like hours, he found himself, oddly enough, in what appeared to be a zen garden of sorts; there were many dead bodies present and not all of them human: he spotted more than one pony amongst the corpses.

“Enter Grasshopper,” an old, wise-sounding voice greeted.

Elliot looked to see a man atop the roof of a shrine balancing on one leg in a meditative stance of sorts. He appeared to be a monk of asian practices, but the peaceful aura was shattered by the presence of some blood spattered on his attire. He had something on his leg - a Guan Dao, a specific kind of weapon that Elliot had occasionally seen being used by desperate people.

“Find sanctuary in peaceful garden,” the monk stated, and the sound of soft wind chimes could be heard in the distance.

“This lot clearly did,” Elliot muttered, looking at the corpses. He looked up at the armed monk. “I was wondering if you could help me? I’m looking for my friends. And possibly a way out of here.”

The man turned, giving Elliot a clear look at him - he definitely had blood on him and looked to be the typical old asian man martial artist type you’d expect. He was no longer in his meditative stance and held his Guan Dao staff in hand.

“Sweet anger course through us,” he simply said. “Is universe tell us who targets should be.”

This guy… he was not sending good signals here.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” Elliot said, more because he sensed trouble was coming than any specific response to the man’s words. “I just want some help finding my way out of here and maybe finding my friends. If you don’t want to help, I’ll be on my way.”

“Spirit of universe has slaughtered my happiness and so I must slaughter too.” The man stated, “All who disrupt my garden of peace shall die!” He then spits at one of the corpses.

It was then that Elliot realized that… these humans and ponies… they didn’t look zombie corpses or converted, the former was pale and the latter had cutie marks… oh god. Did this guy kill survivors that had come here?

“I’ll… stop being in your garden then,” he said slowly, backing away. He didn’t find himself feeling fear that often, but something told him this guy would not be fun to tussle with.

Fate is an unfortunate thing, sometimes it can be unfair to everyone… or sometimes it has favourite targets for the right moments. In this case? It’d be Elliot.

He unfortunately backed into the Garden's gong - and this set the man off. He looked sharply at Elliot, and before the soldier could do anything, the monk threw a smoke bomb at his feet and jumped down off the shrine. He landed perfectly on his feet

“You shall perish!” he cried, pointing a finger at Elliot. He swung his Guan Dao blade into position. “Like the others!”

Elliot, too shocked to react for the moment, stepped back, unsure what to do.

“Ikari koso, washi no seigida!” the monk exclaimed. If Elliot remembered his japanese right (a language he knew only a scant bit of due to having worked with sailors from the JDS Soryu), it meant something like “anger is my justice!”

Not the best of signs for mental stability, Elliot thought wryly. He flipped his daggers out, the first held in a guard position in front of him and ‘speed-killer’ held behind him ready to strike.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said for the last time.

His words fell on deaf ears. The man immediately attacked the Avatar with a kick - sending Elliot back and actually hurting a tad… maybe this would be a bit more tricky than fighting Applejack had been. He followed this up with a charge, but elliot jumped and flipped above him, landing behind him and moving to block the slashing attack his opponent threw at him. He blocked another blow, and another, and dodged a third, jumping to his left as the man spun his Guan Dao and went back on the offensive, engaging in a furious series of strikes with the blade.

Elliot parried some of the blows and dodged others, but this was tricky - this person was definitely skilled with his weapon. Elliot was forced to dodge more than he could parry, and he couldn’t manage to get any strikes in because, somehow, this man was moving far too fast to stop.

“Don’t push me!” Elliot snapped at one point. “I don’t want to fight you, but I’ll defend myself if I have to!”

The man responded to this by trying to stab Elliot with his weapon… in the chest.

“Fuck!” Elliot snapped. He parried the blow - barely - but this was getting ridiculous. “Fine!”

He dodged another blow, leapt up onto a rock formation far enough away that the man wouldn’t immediately reach him, sheathed his daggers and extended a hand, and suddenly, a great, ornate form of a massive two-handed sword appeared. The blade glittered in the light of day, almost seeming to glow faintly, and Elliot grinned as the man paused in his relentless offensive to get a good look at the weapon.

“Let’s see what you make of Excalibur!” Elliot yelled, moving the blade into a guard stance in front of him.

The crazed monk took a moment to glare at him, and then jumped back into the offensive. Elliot kept holding Excalibur in a guard stance, the blade moving faster than should have been possible as the man darted forward and attacked again and again. This was still hard, but Elliot didn’t want to unleash his full power - for one thing, he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

He swung Excalibur downward in a hack, aiming to destroy the man’s weapon. It worked… but for some strange reason, the Guan Dao would automatically repair itself whenever destroyed. The monk grinned at him, spinning the Guan Dao and aiming it at Elliot.

“You might be impressive!” he shouted. “But no one can defeat the power of my rage!”

He span into a spinning assault, and Elliot pulled Excalibur up to block the blow, forced back a step by the sheer power of it. Growling, he pushed the Guan Dao back and span with the momentum of his strike, forcing his foe to block with the haft of his weapon, which once again snapped in two from the force of the blow. Before the man could do anything else, Elliot kicked out, and the man flew backwards, dropping the lower half of the Guan Dao and clutching only to the top of the weapon.

Elliot held his blade in a guard stance still, wary of what else this figure might try to pull. To his surprise, the man held up a hand and the lower half of the Guan Dao came to him, reconnecting with the upper half. The man snorted, before once again going on the offensive. This time, however, Elliot was ready.

The first blow was a stab, easily parried. Using the momentum of the parry, his opponent spun around, aiming a slash at Elliot’s neck, but he blocked the blopw. He used his strength and Excalibur’s weight to push the blade of the Guan Dao to the ground, before kicking again, forcing the man to stumble forward. He followed this up with a slash - the man dodged forward just enough to save his life, but he still took a nasty gash to his back, and he cried out in agony.

He lashed out blindly with his Guan Dao and Elliot was forced to block the blow, but the damage was done. The monk stumbled back, exhausted from the battle and the wound he’d received from Elliot. He used his Guan Dao to support himself, however… he wasn’t focused on Elliot.

“Why have you forsaken me?” he asked the sky, collapsing onto his knees and panting. He looked back to Elliot. “I get fired… my wife, leaves me for a guy who sells refrigerators… my kids, grow up to become… disrespectful brats.”

“Who are you?” Elliot asked, panting slightly himself. With the man defeated, he allowed Excalibur to fade away into nothingness.

“I… I am… Harry Wong. I… was chosen…” he answered, and for a moment Elliot sensed a sanity present amongst the madness. Could he have gotten through to him?

“Chosen by whom? To do what?” Elliot asked.

“T-the universe.” Wong’s eyes went wide, his mind slipping back into his insanity. “And now this!? A goddamn zombie outbreak!? Seriously?” He quickly stood back up and pointed at the sky once again, “Screw you!” he yelled. “You piece of crap!”

Elliot frowned, before looking for an exit. This man was no help, and had in fact cost him time. He threw a look the man’s way.

“I don’t suppose,” he said slowly, “that you’d be willing to help me now?”

Wong didn’t answer. Instead, the man raised his weapon and, with a mad chuckle, gets it in a position so that the swing would - wait, was he going to kill himself!?

Before Elliot could react, he did just that - cut his head off. The head rolled to the ground in front of Elliot, and Wong’s neck spouted off a stream of blood before the body collapsed… though not before Elliot noticed a light leaving it.

“What the…” he muttered slightly, shocked. “Fuckin’...”

He staggered back slightly, shocked by this sight. After a moment, unsure what else there was he could do, he left the garden.

He needed to find his friends, and he needed to get out of this mad city.

Author's Note

Please know that Los Perdidos is based on the city of the same name from Dead Rising 3 to an extent.

Artistic License is a thing.

Act 1, Chapter 4

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