Toland's home was a simple apartment on the northwestern side of Canterlot. Many of the diplomats, nobles, and wealthy business ponies lived on the flashy and guilded southeastern side, so that they may watch Princess Celestia's Sun rise each morning. The northwestern part of the city was where most of the servants of either the upper class, or Celestia herself took residence.

His apartment consisted of an empty living room, save for the wooden chair he himself had constructed. A barren kitchen he rarely used, a bathroom and two bedrooms one of which had been converted into a workshop.

Before Toland had come to Equestria, he had spent much of his free time on entertainment. Movies, video games, books. After a week in being in Equestria, he came to the conclusion he would need something else to do with his time. He began hand manufacturing bullets.

When he had first arrived, he had his guns with him, but only a pocket full of ammunition. He set upon rectify this. .22 rounds were the first he began with, being both simplistic in construction, and design. Then came the .308 rounds. By the time Toland had been in Equestria for a year, he had nearly perfected the practice.

Nopony knew what he did in his workshop. Toland kept it that way. Though he shared human invention with ponies, the knowledge of guns he selfishly and closely kept secret. His ammunition he kept locked away, his guns hidden.

I will not be Prometheus. He mused. Humming a tune, he set a bullet in the casing. Placing the finished round with the others he had made that week, he yawned. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall, he shook his head in minor disbelief.

"Eleven 'o' three already? Sheesh." Drowsily getting up, he stretched and left. Locking the door to the workshop but leaving the rounds on the table in plain sight.

"Five years..." He muttered to himself. "Five long years, and still I have not seen my knife."

Princess Celestial was rather worried at this point. She had gone to the liberty of going through Toland's bank records. Immediately something was off. Bits were entering the account just fine, profit from his various patents, paychecks from his repair work. The issue was where the money was being spent on. Food? Normal. A hefty donation to a charity. Odd, but not concerning. Fifty bit purchase of refined copper. Two hundred bit purchase of "black powder"?

Tapping her chin for a moment a realization dawned on her. Black powder was for fireworks. A thousand scenarios of various explosions caused by a murderous biped flashed through he mind, and panic gripped her.

"Guards! Get a squad and prepare my chariot immediately!"

It was twelve fourty three at night, Toland was asleep in bed. He was rather abruptly awoken by the sound of his front door being shattered. It took only a few seconds for him to bolt upright, reach under his bed, and grab the bolt action rifle that lay there. While his other guns were locked away, he kept his .22 close at hand in case of dangers like this.

He aimed the rifle at the door and waited. Dead silence greeted him, followed by what was definitely the creaking of floorboards. Holding his breath, he relaxed his muscles. The bedroom door burst open, the rifle went off, and there was sheer chaos. Something tackled Toland before he could pull the bolt back, he pushed back, hitting what ever it was with the butt of the rifle. It slumped to the ground. Before he could celebrate the victory he was tackled again by more assailants.

"Target subdued, but we have a guard wounded here!" He hear one of them shout.

Solar Guard? What the hell?

"Get him out of here, and search the building for the explosives." That was the last thing Toland hear before he felt a tingling sensation, and the world flooded to black.

As Toland regained consciousness, everything was a blur. A prison? Dungeon perhaps? He was being carried down hallway. The first fully constructed thought in his head was what exactly happened? He was dropped into a chair, in front of a bare table, other than the chair and the table the room was almost as empty as his apartment. He laughed at that.

Princess Celestia entered through the only door, and seated herself on the floor across the table from him.

"Do you always personally interrogate suspects, or shall I consider myself special?" He asked with a straight face.

"Where are the explosives." Celestia asked, seemingly calm. Toland saw through the mask. She was bothered. Unnerved.

"I passed out as I was attacked, some sort of stun spell your guards employ? I suppose that is better than bindings, or cuffs." Not only did he appear unfazed by his current situation, he almost seemed bored.

"A heroic guard was injured trying to stop you, he is currently fighting for his life. I don't care for playing around. Why all the black powder?" The Princess was clearly upset, and doing a terrible job of hiding it. Toland's eyes went wide.

"Wait a minute. I gave you my knife, I couldn't have stab him. So I hit what I was aiming at after all. Damm!" Toland cursed himself for a moment. "You have to listen. I can save him. I will tell you where everything is, you have my word, please just take me to his doctor."

"Why help him?" The Princess asked.

"I gave you my knife. I vowed not to harm anything till I got it back. I don't break promises. Granted, I was defending myself. They broke into my home. Still I intend to set this right. Take my things, lock me away, but I beg of you please let me save him."

His request bothered the Princess deeply. He was willing to give up. Just because of a sense of honor?

"Fine."

Doctor Sweet Stitch was having an interesting day to say the least. She pushed her long crimson mane out of her face. She would have to tie her mane into a ponytail for the surgery. Couldn't exactly have hair getting in the way.

First they tell her that a Solar Guard was injured in the line of duty. Then she gets news that Princess Celestial herself, as well as some sort of "specialist" will be watching over the surgery. Sweet Stitch wasn't the greatest surgeon at Canterlot Hospital, but she was the only qualified surgeon awake at two in the morning.

"Alright, let's begin." She said with a sigh.

"Mmm. He was hit in the left shoulder." A strange creature noted, walking into the operating room. Princess Celestia followed close behind. Sweet Stitch didn't know what to make of the monster, but assumed it was the so called specialist they brought in. "First course of action should be extracting the bullet." He advised.

"The what?" Doctor Stitch asked, confused.
Toland put his hand on his face for a moment, attempting to stay calm. "There's a lump of metal inside of him right now. Frankly he is lucky. Copper bullet, armor slowed it down on impact, and his shoulder blade stopped it from hitting anything vital. Get the lump of metal out, and he will have a better chance of walking without a limp for the rest of his life."

That she understood. Shaking any self doubt in herself, she called out. "OK, clear the room and bring the patient in!"

Toland and Princess Celestia had been sitting in the waiting room for roughly fourth five minutes. Neither spoke to one another. Finally Toland broke the silence. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Why would I do that?" Celestial asked angrily. Toland only smiled.

"It's in your best interest if you do. Let me have my things back. My weapons. Keep my knife of course, that offer still stands, but my guns I need back."

"What makes you think I would just give them back after all this?"

The smile on Toland's face drained away. "Because if you don't your doctors will be treating a lot more gunshots. I won't Pull a single trigger either. I can't trust ponies with my weapons. They will use them to make more. This world doesn't deserve that, Princess. Give me my weapons back."

Author's Note

Fun fact #1: I'm writing on a tablet.
Fun fact #2: Tablet autocorrect is the Devil