Interlude 04 - No more Hope

PV-01’s orbit
Luna’s Bats battle barge Somnum Exterreri

The Somnum Exterreri invaded Ponyville’s sensors with the nonchalance of a predator approaching a herd of prey. Alarms came to life inside the remaining Dusk Squadron’s ships and on the surface as the battle barge’s signature flooded the sensors with threat warnings. In orbit, six captains shivered at the sight of the bulky battle barge. On the surface, messages were frantically relayed to assess the status of the ship and its allegiance. Everypony sensed the coming of an all too recurrent storm: war.

From her throne, Moon Terror watched the planet with fascination. Such a small world, with so many things at stakes. Like yet another offence to the Warmistress’s legacy, the key to her liberation and imprisonment lied not in a heavily fortified system... but in a backwater farm planet guarded by a hoofful of guardsponies and maybe a dozen ships. Her pragmatism was fighting her pride in a battle of conflicting feelings. A truce was quickly decided: crushing this planet would be enough to satisfy both. The Sorcerer was smiling smugly at her side, annoyingly taking the place she’d only allow to her second in command.

“Your plan has worked so far, Sorcerer,” she started, not even looking at him. “At the cost of two squads. I hope, for your sake, that your information is correct.”

“It is, Champion.” He smirked. Her annoyance at the title never ceased to amuse him.

“Such certitude...”

“I made sure never to disappoint, Champion. And you –” he emphasised with a wicked grin “– made it clear that my very life depended on it. This display of power is no longer necessary, I assure you. Our goals are the same.”

“So you say.”

“So I say, and so I intend to prove.” The Sorcerer sensed the defiance in the spacemare but didn’t take offence. She would be a fool to trust him, just as he would be a fool to overestimate his status on board.

His glare went from the Spacemare to the holoscreen. The whole system was laid bare before him. There was an amazing amount of information displayed. For an instant, the stallion marvelled at the warmare, able to follow the conversation and the endless stream at the same time. Soon his attention drifted to four lonely vessels out of their formations. Nothing particular marked them out of the ordinary. But the Sorcerer could feel the flow of the Immaterium pushing them toward their destination. The Convergence drew closer by the second. “There are few constants in this universe, but the return of the Warmistress suffers no doubts.”

“We will see.”

“Yes, we will. It is just a matter of time.”

Moon Terror looked at the spectacle unfolding before her. She didn’t understand the underlying “current of fate” that drove them, but she had to acknowledge the fact that things were eerily similar to his predictions. The four ships were about to be in position, just like he said. His prophecies had been extremely accurate so far. More than most psyker she had encountered. This was the reason she valued him enough to tolerate his impudence. His words carried truth, not hazy possibilities blurred with interpretations.

“When will the rest of the fleet arrive?” she asked out of the blue.

“This, I cannot say...” admitted the sorcerer. A good point for him in the eye of the spacemare. “The Convergence will saturate the Empyrean with energy. My visions passing this point are blurry.”

“Is that so?” she teased.

An exasperated sigh almost left the psyker’s muzzle, but he caught it in time. She’s just testing you. He took a second to strengthen his will to make sure he could keep his composure. When he finally talked, it was with a calm and composed voice, like a teacher addressing a rebellious student. “Imagine looking at the sun and trying to grasp the shape of the clouds around it or the stars behind it. Try as you might, the sun itself will blind you and obscure everything else. Looking past the Emergence is a task I am not capable of doing. I’m but a humble initiate of the matters of the Warp,” he jested with a mock bow. “I can predict the most important galactic event of the millennium, but not much more. Sorry to disappoint.”

To his surprise, she smiled. It was not much, but the corner of her mouth was definitely higher than usual.

“Can you at least tell me if there will be there before the Imperium reinforcement?” she asked earnestly.

“I can lie to you if that is your wish.”

“It was worth a shot, I guess,” she said, her tone returning to her formal neutral indifference.

They turned toward the screen. Watching the spacial ballet before them. Three ships drifted lazily, framing the Ponyville and its sun. To the military mind of Night Terror, they were disorganised, out of place, but the Sorcerer could feel the underlying order behind it all. Everything was falling into place.

At the centre of this perfect picture, two ships were about to collide. It was the apotheosis of the act, the finishing touch. The Sorcerer couldn’t blink not turn his gaze away.

The impact was barely noticeable in real space – a star among others in the dark sky. It hardly registered on the screen.

But for those attuned to the currents of Chaos, this was something else entirely. The event grew and grew like a fire spreading in the night, like a star finally burning its gas. It got bigger and bigger. Soon it rivalled with the pale red orb in the distance and it still got more intense. A white fiery wound in the fabric of space. And the Warp spilt through it, unnatural colours bleeding on the canvas, tainting it, ruining it in ways that defied reason and sanity.

The Sorcerer smiled. “It has begun.”

☀☀☀

PV 01’s surface
Orchards, sector 2OG79, Southwest of Ponyville

It was a nice and quiet night in the Orchard. Then again, every night was nice and quiet in the Orchard. Nothing happened there, save for the constant back and forth of the innumerable servitors taking care of the trees. That was why Zephyr Breeze liked the place. Sure, it was boring at times, but he would always take boredom over action. He left the agitation of town, the brawls, the drunkards, the noise, the crowd and everything urban to the other members of the militia. He would stay nice and safe under the trees where he would just relax and enjoy life, as nature intended.

That night was no different. If anything, it was even better. It was a lonely shift, meaning nopony would sneak up on him and ask him to actually do anything. He just had to report from time to time so they wouldn’t inquire about his whereabouts.

Life is great, he mused as he bit into a juicy apple. Just me, the stars and some apples to fill my stomach. Life is great.

☀☀☀

PV-01’s Orbit
Sword-Class Frigate Rise of Equus

Sergeant First Class Bright Star felt her headache go up a notch. The current cycle had been stressing, to say the least. The higher-ups hadn’t told them anything about what was happening, but something was happening. Tensions were running high in the ship and several disputes between the crew and the soldiers had erupted. Now the navigator was throwing a fit. And of course, as the head of security, she had to take care of it.

“If this keeps up, we’ll kill each other before anything actually happen…” she mumbled as she closed on the navigator’s chamber.

“Sir?” one of her ponies asked, thinking she was talking to her.

She didn’t repeat nor acknowledge her. The navigator chamber was in sight. The rest of the squad was already there.

“Situation?”

“We managed to subdue him but he’s still agitated…”

Bright Star sighed. Great. “Well done.” She took a deep breath and opened the door of the chamber. The soldiers saluted as she came in. Let’s get on with it.

The navigator was a scrawny thing. In fact, he looked more like a foal than an adult – and maybe he was – but something in his posture, in his look denied his appearance. The expensive robes and jewellery he usually wore had been violently stripped away from him by his bodyguards – a fancier name than jailers and potential executioners – leaving him naked, gagged and bleeding.

Well almost naked, Bright Star noted with relief.

He still wore his helmet. The metal casket sat firmly on his head, almost too small for his cranium, locked in place by tightly clenched clamps. Bright Star tried not to fix it for too long, for fear of what was hidden behind. Every navigator was born with a third, baleful eye. To glance it was very bad luck. To peer into it was a death sentence. It was fortunate they had stopped him before he unlocked the protection. Bright Star shuddered as she imagines what he could have done had he been unleashed...

“Did he say anything?”

“Yeah,” one of Star’s ponies answered while maintaining the pony on the ground. “Some nonsense about the return of something and eternal night or something.”

“I see…”

“He also mentioned a moon,” the pony added.

“A moon?” she let out, letting her mask of impassibility crack for a second. “The Everfree?”

“No, that’s not it. He was talking about this planet’s moon.”

“Ponyville has no moon,” she let out. Great, she thought, sighing deeply, more nonsense. The situation was too complicated for her liking. They could not quarantine the navigator. He was way too precious, and given the current situation, they might need him to reach some reinforcement. But they could simply not rely on him in that state. The navigator was growing more and more agitated and they had no idea why. She needed to make things move in the right direction.

“Ungag him,” she finally ordered. “I want to hear him.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

She didn’t.

The jailors quickly removed the gag, trying to avoid the navigator’s teeth with little to no success. As soon as it left his mouth he started screaming. It defied anything Bright Star had ever heard. He spoke words, but they mixed and meshed together, forming a single uninterrupted noise.

She hit him, hoping to make him snap out of it. It worked, to a degree. He stopped but the madness visibly still possessed him. Bright Star stood next to him, ready to act if needed. She didn’t mind slapping it out of him if needed.

She spoke slowly and coldly, her gaze boring into the stallion’s eyes. “I was summoned here to make you comply, navigator. You have sworn an oath and you will respect it. By force if necessary. Do you understand?”

“It’s too late…” he mumbled.

She wanted to slap him again, but she refrained herself. This was the first reasonable words he’d said in maybe hours. “Too late for what?”

“We should have left before the Dusk fell… it’s too late now…”

“Too late for what?” she repeated, louder, her exasperation growing.

His face slowly changed. She could somehow see it in his eyes, on his face… it was something both liberating and ugly. The manifestation of thought making its way through the brain and somehow crystallising, growing, hardening until it became a fact. It happened in a fraction of an instant, but at this exact moment, comprehension passed through them. She knew a dead pony walking when she saw one. “You’re all going to die,” he simply stated.

Things happened surprisingly fast and she was too slow to act. She could only observe. One of the jailor’s grasp had relaxed, lulled by the lack of struggle. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the prisoner to slip out of the restraint. He jumped at her, his strength denying his frail stature. He was on her in an instant, arms stretched, hooves reaching for her gun.

Time stood still.

Then resumed as her ponies started to shoot the poor creature. He never got to even reach his goal. A burst of bullet blew him away in a bombasting blast of detonations.

He was dead before he even hit the ground.

“I didn’t give any order,” she stated in a calm voice as soon as her ears stopped ringing.

“Ma’am?”

“I. Didn’t. Give. Any. Order.”

“He was about to…”

“To what? Overpower me?” Her simple look of discontent made the rest of the squad squirm in silence. She didn’t scream. She didn’t raise her voice, but anger laced every one of her words. “Now the ship’s without her navigator. Now we’re trapped around this planet until Canterlot sends us another. Now the squadron will have to negotiate with the Navigator Houses and pray they send us even remotely competent ones.” If looks could set ponies aflame, they would have already been turned into ashes then blown away by the cold winds of her reproaches. But she was not done yet. “Do you know what it is to face a Warp storm with an unskilled navigator? Or to miss your mark so badly you’re forced to crawl in real space for months? Do you ha–”

“Sergeant Bright Star?” The voice in the vox was colder than even hers. On a calm day, it felt like a whiplash. It was one of the few voices – if not the only one – that had the same impact on her as she had on her troops. And its owner was the only one who had the authority to use it on her.

Bright Star instantly stiffened, her body reacting on its own. “I’m here, sir. Awaiting orders.”

“The Dusk and the Crusader have been destroyed,” he informed her in a tone that could have been used to speak about the weather. “The enemy has launched an orbital attack of an unknown type on Ponyville from their previous location. Our ship is out of its trajectory, but we’re still too close to my taste. I want you on high alert.”

I’m not sure how much more on alert we can be, she thought tersely. “At your orders, sir.”

The communication ended before she could even tell him about the navigator, but then again, she was in no hurry to tell him. She turned back to her ponies. “Clean up this mess and gather everyone.”

They saluted in silence, too ashamed – or too relieved – to answer. She didn’t care which one it was. Both were satisfying. She left the room without a word.

You’re all going to die. Even in death, it was as if he was still threatening her. No… that was not a threat. Of that, she was deeply convinced. She knew it. This was not a threat. This was a promise. A prediction.

She knew she was right when the first screams erupted behind her.

She knew he was right when it finally reached her.

She could sense it before she could see it. She turned around, slowly and a cold shiver went down her spine.

The thing in front of her looked like the cadaver of the navigator. A simple glance at it would confirm it.

It was still a scrawny thing. In fact, it looked even punnier riddled with bullets, bleeding more blood than it was possible from its open wound. But something in his posture, in his look, denied his appearance. There was a presence in it. Cold, alien, malevolent. It cloaked it in an aura that was not of this world. It was an evil she had never know existed, and it looked at her in the eyes, his dead orbits filled with fire from another reality. It fixed her and she felt as powerless and naked as a newborn foal.

The creature opened its mouth and uttered a single sentence with a million voices.

“You’re all going to die.”

☀☀☀

The first apple took Zephyr Breeze by surprise. The second one even more so. The third one made him scream out of panic. It was when the fourth one hit the ground in front of him that he finally got up and out of the tree’s reach. Not a second too soon. The tree was getting rid of his fruits like one would shed off its leaves during an autumn storm. They were falling around him, dozens, hundreds of apples crashing on the ground like vegetal bombs.

It was surreal, beautiful in a sense, but not in the right way. Something in the spectacle was fascinating and he knew deep down that it was fascinating because it was wrong.

He tried to look around for a clue, an indication that it was supposed to happen but found nothing. The servitors were as clueless as him, desperately trying to pick up all the apples, but it would take days or weeks, maybe months.

Something was definitely wrong and somehow, he felt like it was his responsibility, which was a burden he certainly didn’t want. So his mind instantly looked for a way to unburden him from it.

“Maybe I should call the DPs…” he thought out loud as if to dispel his concerns. “Yeah. I should call them. They’ll know what to do!”

Zephyr Breeze started to walk toward the militia outpost. There were no more apples to get rid off, so the trees had started to throw their leaves away. Soon, it was twigs, then whole branches.

The trees now looked like imposing clawed figures watching him.

Zephyr Breeze ran.

☀☀☀

PV-01’s orbit
Evacuation vessel D91931518-D

To say that Sturdy Crew didn’t like the evacuation vessel was an Empress-mooned euphemism. Steel Bolt had told her that it was that or dying, and honestly? She still wondered if death wouldn't have been the best solution. At least dying was a short process. Being trapped in this tight, cramped, secluded, clumped, slim, narrow, scant, choking, sealed, constricting, confining place for hours was torture.

Her claustrophobia had been tolerable when she’d been on the Dusk of Hope. The frigate’s engine was ridiculously vast and she would be praised if she slept there instead of her ridiculously small quarters. But here… There was no escape… And the other ponies only made it worse… Every inch of space she could coax would then be reclaimed by another pony trying to access some measure of breathing room. In the end, and quite ironically, the only place that had been tolerable so far had been the ridiculously tiny resting room.

She had stayed there ever since, rocking back and forth in the centre of the room, eyes closed as much as possible so she could ignore the lack of space around her. Steel Bolt was doing his best to cheer her up, but his attempts had shown poor results. This had not stopped him though.

“Only a few hours left, then you’ll have more space than you ever wished for!”

“This is a few hours too long, I won’t survive that long...”

“Stop being a drama queen, Crew…”

“Buck you, Bolt! I hate this!”

“Sorry… I didn’t mean it that way…” he apologised with a sigh. He looked at her with concern. He didn’t really mind her bad mood. He was more frustrated with his inability to help his friend. “Listen, I’m going to see if they have something to eat, and maybe something for your nerves. Will you be okay?”

She nodded slowly. While she wouldn’t see it, she could imagine the air of concern on Bolt’s face as he left the room. He walked out slowly and loudly as if to make sure she would know he was leaving. Deep down, she appreciated the concern and the care… the sentiment was just buried under metric tons worth of phobias.

Somehow the silence and isolation felt even worse than sharing space with Bolt. With him gone, she didn’t dare open her eyes but it was hard to be so isolated in such a hostile space. She tried to sing to fight the silence and the ominous mechanical sounds it sometimes brought from outside, but it didn’t work as well as her companion’s annoying help. Finally, exhaustion got the better of her and she fell asleep.

Her sleep didn’t provide any rest. Her dreams haunted by nightmares and visions of death. Voices whispered in her sleep, trying to convince her to do terribly wonderful things. An insistent nudge on her shoulder delivered her from one hell to cast her back to another.

Oblivious to his friend’s distress, Steel Bolt jumped in front of her, invading her field of vision. “Crew! I’ve found something that will make you feel good! I mean really good! I mean so good you will not think of your claustrophobia fo a good moment!”

Crew jumped, genuinely scared by his enthusiasm. “Bolt? What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing! Don’t worry about it. Listen, you must come! I’ve found something amazing for you! I swear it will make you feel better!”

Something about his enthusiasm rubbed her the wrong way. “Listen, Bolt… I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, but… can you give it a rest? Just stay here with me and–”

“No!” The outburst took her by surprise. Since she’d met him she had never heard Steel raise his voice. “Sorry…” he apologized softly, returning some kind of normalcy to the situation. “Listen, I know I’m not very good at this whole thing but I swear this will make you feel better!”

“But how d–”

“Trust me Crew… please?”

Something inside Crew begged her to stay here and ignore Bolt’s rambling, but something in his voice was different. It was more confident, beguiling…

“You won’t have to open your eyes! I’ll guide you. See it as a game to pass time!”

“I’m not sure how well that will work with all the other ponies,” she said with a chuckle. Still, she got up.

“They won’t bother you,” he reassured with a laugh that she didn’t know he had. Her surprise might have shown on her face because before she could ask what he meant by it, he was already explaining. “They’re all in the kitchen, or whatever that room is. Something happened and they’re dealing with it.”

“What happened?” She could feel the phobia rise up again. She was trapped here. If the ship had a dysfunction, there would be nothing they could do, she’d be trapped here in this space coffin and… She jumped as a hoof touched her shoulder.

“Don’t worry…” Bolt said in a soothing, calming tone, “there was a small problem with one of the door and they’re working on it. I don’t want you to worry! If anything, it means you have more space for yourself for a moment! They’re working on it, don’t worry.”

“I’m–”

“Please? I swear everything will be fine!”

She didn’t see it, but she could feel his smile. She felt, reassured by it. Somehow. There was definitely something going on… But Steel Bolt was a good pony and a reliable friend. “O–okay… I trust you Bolt…”

She felt the smile get broader. “Follow me,” he said.

The pony carefully guided her in the ship. For some reason, it felt way bigger, less oppressive. Maybe it was because she still had her eyes closed, Bolt’s game, the lack of ponies, or a combination of the three. Whatever the reason was, it felt almost good.

Bolt cautiously guided her through the ship, taking his time and making sure she would avoid obstacles. “Careful! Somepony spilt something on the ground… there’s something here, slightly on your left… there’s food on the ground in right in front of you, but you got space left and right...”

It only took them a couple of minutes to reach their destination, but it felt way longer to Sturdy Crew. But she didn’t mind. Her mind was free of her worries while it lasted and that was good. And she had yet to see the surprise Bolt had in store for her.

The pony walked a few feet away from her and she heard some sort of metallic click. “Okay. We’re here now. On three open your eyes, okay?”

“I’m not sure…” she said. Her anxiety came back all of a sudden. Something about Bolt and his surprise frightened her all of a sudden.

“Please? Trust me, it’s worth it! You’ll feel way better, I promise!”

She wasn’t sure why she believed him. Something sounded wrong but at the same time… there was something in his voice that sounded so alluring, so trustworthy. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way, but she felt very silly all of a sudden. Steel Bolt was a friend. He had always had her back. She nodded. “I trust you.”

“I know you do,” he said playfully. “Ready? One… two… three!”

Sturdy Crew opened her eyes, quick enough to see the endless vastness of space. That was the last thing she saw before decompression sucked her out with unmatching strength.

She never got the time to understand what was happening. Without any friction to stop her, her body started to spin, faster and faster, making everything a confusing black blur. Closing her eyes didn’t help. Everything just moved too fast. Unconsciousness came quickly after, offering her a merciful respite before the lack of air finally ended her existence.

Steel Bolt watched his friend spin out of control out the ship. Soon she was but a point drifting into space. She looked so happy… The voices were right… all she needed was space.

☀☀☀

Zephyr Breeze reached the militia station more worried than relieved. Even though he was doing his best to ignore it there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that something very bad was happening. He internally dreaded the moment he would not be able to lie to himself anymore. However, that was not the only thing troubling him. If there was indeed something happening, somepony would have to deal with it, and Zephyr Breeze didn’t want to be that pony.

There’s no way they can ask me to fight or something, he tried to reassure himself. Militia is just a civic duty. I’m still a civilian. I’ll get to safety like everypony else. The lie was not convincing, but Zephyr Breeze was an easy crowd. That was enough to motivate him to finally go inside.

The outpost was empty. For once, Zephyr Breeze didn’t find the lack of authority reassuring. Quite the contrary. Right now, he craved stability and somepony to tell him what to do. Still, it was just a minor road bump. He knew for a fact there was a vox here somewhere. All militia outpost had one – and each of them had been used at one point or another to signal his laziness to the DP.

Soon everything would be back to normal. He hoped.

☀☀☀

Watchful Eye trotted toward the armoury. She did so with determination, an anxious expression plastered on her face and a mind filled with prayers. She wasn’t supposed to be there, but what else was she supposed to do? Fortunately, nothing had stopped her yet. That was a good thing. It meant she still had time.

The armoury was not even guarded. Seemed like the Empress was with her tonight. She took the pass she’d stolen earlier with as much confidence as she could and used it on the door. It opened without a hitch, just as planned.

Bless the Empress, for she is the Salvation of Ponykind, she recited as she rushed inside.

The room was bigger than she’d thought, filled to the brim with guns of various size. She looked around, looking for something that looked conveniently deadly. She knew nothing of weapons. She was just a clerk, not a part of the military. Her only knowledge of armament were their corresponding numbers on the diverse reports and requisition orders. But what other choice did she have?

There was nopony else left.

Nopony had listened to her when she spoke about the monster. These grinning, twisted abomination… They’d dismissed her. They’d told her she needed rest. And now they were all... gone...

Not now girl! she thought with anger. You need to act now. The path to duty is often a stony one, made smoother by thought for others, she recited as she dug through several models of guns and canons. She didn’t know what the things were, but she was sure faith and a good gun would solve the problem. She would save everypony.

She finally chose a weapon. A lascarbin. Light and effective. The symbol of Her soldiers. With that, she would be able to enact the Empress judgement.

The Empress prote–

Two bursts of chevrotain each interrupted her thoughts, her actions and her life. The mare collapsed on the ground, her weapon still in hooves.

Hard Wave watched her fall in silence. Swiftly, with well-practised moves, he reloaded his shotgun, cursing the foul aberration he had just destroyed. They were everywhere, lurking, grinning...

And he was the only one left to fight them.

☀☀☀

Zephyr Breeze watched the blood dripping from his hooves, but his brain rejected the information. The thick, crimson liquid gathered at the tip of his hoof, forming heavy spherical blobs that grew and grew until the superficial tension gave up and let gravity do its job. Then it would fall and fall and fall until it reached his cheek. He blinked every time. As if he was surprised to feel the reality of it. He was too confused to accept it, too shocked to accept it.

Accepting it would force him to stop denying what had happened. He had killed somepony. He had killed somepony. He had killed somepony. He had killed.

No matter how he looked at it – or refused to look at it – the thought didn’t make any sense. Nothing tonight had made any sense. He had dreamt dreams that made more sense… but dreams didn’t leave bruises. Dreams didn’t stain his fur and hoof with blood. Dreams didn’t smell like death.

This was not a dream, and Zephyr Breeze could not comprehend it.

The pony had attacked without any warning. They had a knife. Had he tried to reason with them? He was sure he had said something… But they didn’t listen. They jumped at him with a knife…

And then they died.

And then he killed them.

It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any sense...

☀☀☀

The world had ceased to make sense.

Madness had spilt from the Orchard, infecting Ponyville and its inhabitants.

Zephyr Breeze watched his town devolve into something alien with a strange detachment. Some buildings were burning. Others had been vandalized to various degrees. All around him, he could hear screams and gunshots, some of them so close he could probably see the scene if he ever decided to look in the right direction – he never did.

☀☀☀

A mare grasped him and asked him something. He couldn’t grasp what she said. He wasn’t sure he answered. All he knew was that she’d left him alone after some time.

☀☀☀

Strange lights danced in the sky and Zephyr Breeze watched them with primal awe.

They bore some similarities with the polar and prometheal auroras, but something about them was just wrong. Their colours were impossible, using palettes that the equine eye could not and should not see. They shone without bringing any illumination – if anything they drained the light around them – but still were perfectly visible, piercing even the few clouds daring to hide them. But the worst was the things hidden in the lights… figures, words, symbols, things hidden in the corner of his eyes. Terrible things that the sane shouldn’t watch.

Yet Zephyr Breeze watched, guided, lured by some ancient force.

How long did he stay there? He didn’t know.

He gazed into the lights until the light gazed back, whispering, chittering, chanting, clamouring, about truth and falsehood about him and his crimes.

Zephyr Breeze’s fear finally took over.

He ran away from the lights and their insidious influence.

☀☀☀

Zephyr Breeze finally reached the militia barracks.

It came as a surprise to him that his steps had led him here. For years he had avoided the place, only going when he knew he could not escape it with just a warning.

It had changed a lot since the last time he had seen it. He remembered it as an impressive-looking building, a small tower in the centre of town, guarded by auto-turrets and over-zealous ponies barely a hoof into adulthood. It was not nearly as impressive as the Dulce Pomum’s fortress, but it was still one imposing-looking building, dominating the surrounding area.

Now, it was just another ruined thing, burning its foundations away, destined to crumble and rot like the rest of the planet.

There were bodies scattered all around the building. Most of them wore the militia uniform. Zephyr Breeze recognised none of them. He had no idea who the other ponies were either. Did they attack the building just as he had been attacked? Or were they just at the wrong place at the wrong time?

Useless questions whose answers he didn’t care for.

His officer’s office was on the second floor. That one had not burnt yet. A chance.

“Zephyr Breeze reporting from duty,” he said as he entered, making an exaggerated salute.

The room was even more messed up than the rest of the building. The desk had been overturned, there were burn marks everywhere. There were five ponies in robes lying dead near the entrance. Shot, all of them. A sixth body was hidden behind the desk. This one had been stabbed repeatedly.

He knew this one. Cobbler.

“You were a tough bitch til the end,” he commented as he leaned toward her. “You got five of them. That’s very impressive, Sarge.” He looked around and finally found his prize. Her laspistol. It was an old model, obsolete even. But she liked for some reason. She also liked to motivate the new recruits by aiming at their hooves with it.

Bitch.

“Guess I took it from your cold dead hooves,” he joked as he checked the battery of the weapon. There was still plenty of it inside. Good.

Zephyr Breeze pointed the gun at his temple. The muzzle felt nice and cool on his fevered flesh.

“Here’s my report. We’re all fucked.”

Author's Note

"Let the Galaxy burn."
- The Warmistress