January 3rd
C-Day plus 305
Prison Camp #035, Trottingham, Equestria
11:23:08
‘Parare. Act. Vincere.’

It was a bitter cold winter in Trottingham, snow fell rapidly from the sky while the air bit at the skin of the dozens of humans standing huddled together. The Equestrian guards in the watchtowers were also freezing, but not to the point that they were slack in their duties. The barracks were all above concrete slabs, making tunneling out of the camp nigh impossible. The guards were confident that this, coupled with their superior fire power, would keep even the most daring of prisoners in line. Of course, their most daring prisoner up to that point hadn’t come close to the tenacity that Altair Occisor had for creating chaos.

The Lieutenant in question was resting on his bunk, eating an apple while he stared up at the bunk above his and the numerous drawings he’d pinned to the wood above his head. They had been so detailed at first, drawings of Cassidy’s face and the city back home… Now they were distorted by the fading memory in his mind. The man wore his dirty winter uniform over his fatigues, his knit cap had small holes in it, and his hands were calloused from the labor that the warden had forced him and his fellow POWs to take part in. All that suffering, all the fighting that Altair had done to stay soon… It was all about ready to pay off… The Equestrians had stopped them from tunneling out, that meant they would simply have to fight their way out.

The prisoners had no qualms with dying while escaping, it was better to die free than live as prisoners, but they wanted to ensure there was as best a chance of success as possible. A successful escape would draw resources from the enemy and help win the war. For Altair, he wasn’t so much concerned with winning the war as he was getting revenge… The faces of King Steven, Celestia, and Major Shimmer hadn’t left his mind, they were still clear as crystal to him, but those he loved were fading like the light of a dying lightbulb.

Altair reached under his bed and withdrew one of his tools to help with the plan for the escape, slowly he had been having providentia agents smuggle in his revolver… Piece by piece. The final piece had arrived days before, meanwhile the others had been steeling munitions from the guards, and they had already managed to stash a couple rifles from the armory. The guards had no idea where they were hidden, or who had done it, so they had been conducting random searches and other disciplinary acts… Unofficially, they had also cut down on the coal that the prisoners could use to heat their barracks.

The others were slowly pulling out their own weapons, some had taped sharpened butterknives to pieces of wood, others simply wielded two by fours like a bat. All throughout the camp, the prisoners were filing into the barracks slowly without raising suspiscion and arming themselves. Altair readied his revolver with six rounds of hollow points, then he stood up from his bunk and grabbed the best looking picture of Cassidy. He tucked it into his pocket before joining the other armed prisoners in waiting near the door. The Onorussians watched as two prisoners began to fight, this drew the attention of the guards away from the barracks. With that cue, the two men with rifles stepped out into position, taking aim at the tower guards. Both were snipers, so they hit their mark when they pulled the triggers. The first two guards went down simultainiously while the third was shot after the men racked fresh rounds.

The guards didn’t realize what had happened at first, when they did the alarms began to blare as the prisoners shouted and cheered while surging out of their barracks and towards the gate to freedom. Altair shouted and cheered as he ran along, more and more Equestrians were coming out, only to be met by the horde of angry Onorussians. The remaining tower guard began firing at the crowd, mowing down half a dozen in the first pass and half a dozen again on the second. The two snipers quickly dismissed him, meaning the Onorussians would only be fighting a ground battle.

Altair grabbed a gasmask off one of the dead guards and pulled it on, surprisingly it fit his face well. Others began doing the same as riot guards stepped into view, they began tossing tear gas into the horde as the two sides clashed. The problem with forcing prisoners to do hard labor is that while it tires them out it also makes them muscled beyond belief. This was what the Equestrians learned when their nightsticks were yanked from their grasp and turned against them. Altair leveled his handgun at one of the riot guards and pulled the trigger, splattering the stallion’s brains all over the guard behind him.

“Come, comrades! For Mother Onorus!” One of the rioters shouted as they bashed the head of a guard with a two by four. He was an older fellow, a colonel named Viktor Zernvo, he had been the one to orchestrate the plan for the escape, a real hard ass from back in the days of the EOL war. “Altair, create more openings for our men to slaughter these monarchist pigs!”

“Ura!” Altair shouted back before he began firing at the riot guards, the sirens began to blare even more loudly as prisoners armed themselves with the weapons of fallen guards and began to rip the riot guards protective line apart. Within a couple minutes the line had collapsed and the guards were running for safety, most of them ended up getting beaten by angry prisoners however. Altair and the others meanwhile came upon the first of two gates that separated them from freedom.

“Their prison gates are made of wood! Break them into the kindling we use to burn this place to the ground!” Zernvo ordered, the horde bellowed in response as they began to rip boards out of their places and tossing them aside. The barbed wire didn’t cover enough to stop them from doing it now that there were no guards left to shoot at them from the watchtowers. The gate was quickly dismantled, as was the second, meaning nothing stood between the soldiers and freedom save for one person. The Warden, a mare that Altair had hated since he had first met her in that prison all those months ago. The crowd began to disperse past her, there was little she could do to stop them, but some knew just how much Altair hated her. Colonel Zernvo was among them, he stayed behind to watch as Altair slipped his gun into his belt and rolled his neck, then cracked his knuckles.

Sunset Shimmer was panicking, all of her prisoners were flooding the forest, her guards were dead, there was nothing she could do to stop any of it except stand there like a rock in the middle of a stream, hoping to survive. Then her worst fears were confirmed when she heard a crowd of prisoners begin to chant ‘Vashira! Vashira!’, which was Onorussian for ‘Vengeance! Vengeance!’. Like an ancient titan, Shimmer saw Altair Occisor walking towards her. His face partially hidden by his mask, but the scars still partially visible. The hatred in his eyes was all too clear.

“S-Stay back!” Sunset Shimmer shouted as she took a step back, Altair continued walking towards her, his muscles bulging as he clenched his fists. The crowd’s chanting became even louder, even more bloodthirsty. Sunset Shimmer put up her fists in a defensive posture as Altair stopped in front of her. The mare yelped when he moved so fast that she didn’t have time to react in time, her world became nothing but pain as his fist connected with her jaw.

“What’s wrong, Major?! You were so tough in prison! I had been training just for this moment!” Altair said in a vicious voice as he punched her again, this time bloodying her nose as she lost even more of her balance and sense of direction. “Without your knives you are nothing but an animal! A monarchist pig! And me?!” Altair grabbed her by the throat and leaned in real close. “I am the butcher!” Sunset Shimmer’s eyes went wide. “Squeal for me, piggy!”

The crowd cheered wildly as they watched Altair throw the mare to the ground and began raining punches down on her face and head. Other prisoners began to light the entire camp on fire or stripping the guards of their armor and weapons for later use. Altair stood over the brutally beaten corpse of his torturer with his fists in the sky, soaking in adulation from his comrades.

“Good, Comrade! Good!” Zernvo cheered as he ran towards Altair. “Now! We must go before reinforcements arrive!”

“I can’t go with you, comrade.” Altair replied quietly. “This Monarchist whore was only the first of those I must deal with.” Zernvo was going to try and talk him out of it, but he knew from spending time with the Nova-Imperator that he would have little effect on him. “Do not worry, my friend… You have shown me back to the path I was born to walk, I will not forget this. This is not the last time we will see eachother.”

“Oh? Where do you suppose we’ll see eachother again?” The Colonel asked incredulously.

“In Canterlot, when we hang the Onorussian flag over their conquered nation.” Altair replied with a grin, his fists still covered in blood. “When you return to Onorus, give this to my fiance’.” Altair took the picture he had drawn of her from his pocket and gave it to the Colonel. “Tell her I’ll be home soon.”

“Of course, Comrade.” Zernvo replied dutifully, with that both men shared a salute before the Colonel rushed back to help the other men with their escape.

Altair instead began walking towards the motor pool of the base, he left the mask on his face to maintain warmth, adjusting his tattered scarf, causing it to flap in the wind. He stepped into the motor pool uncontested and approached the only vehicle that hadn’t already been taken by the more eager escapees. It was a motorcycle, much like the old BMWs ridden by the Germans during the second world war. Altair swung his leg over the top of it and sat down, he pushed the starter and smiled when the engine rumbled to life. Altair kicked the vehicle into gear and tore off down the road, he had grown up riding in snow and dirt alike… Every journey began with a single step, and this… This was step one.

[♠]

Steven looked at the report about what had happened at the prison, the soldiers that had been sent to reinforce the guards had found it torched to the ground with bodies strewn about the ground. So far it hadn’t been confirmed that Altair Occisor was among the dead, but judging by the fact that Major Shimmer had been beaten to death so brutally, Steven laid good odds that the man was not only alive but on his way deeper into Equestria. Unfortunately, Steven didn’t have the resources to look for him and go after all the prisoners from the camp, which meant that he couldn’t go after the dangerous man until they’d recaptured those that had escaped. That left him a clear, if not long and winding, path to the capital city and so many villages in his way. Even if the castle had been destroyed, the city was still a strategic asset.

“Quite the pickle, huh?” A voice asked from across the room, Steven looked up and spotted a human leaning against a cane, he had a serpent lapel pin and devilish yellow eyes. His hair was bleached white, and his teeth looked almost… sharpened. “Well, nothing you don’t deserve.”

“Discord?” Steven asked, almost surprised to see the chaos god. “Discord!?” Surprise rapidly turned to anger. “How are you here?! I killed you!?”

“No. You killed my…. Eight millionth cousin. How could you?” The man said in a sing song voice before he chuckled. “I’m from Onorus, and I gotta say, you should fire your interior decorator… Or hire a new author. The detail in this place is just… Lacking.”

“What? Never mind, what do you want? Why are you here?” Steven asked, the man hummed and walked towards Steven’s desk. He leaned against it and snapped his fingers, a nail file appeard in the man’s hands and he began to file several nails… Metal nails, used in carpentry.

“Because you fucked with my friend’s kid.” Discord said simply, still filing the nails. “More importantly, you fucked with him so bad that instead of looking up to his wonderful and beautiful mother, he’s looking up to me.” Discord looked at Steven. “Even to a guy like me, that’s cold.” Steven glared at the man and began to reach into his desk, only for the chaos god to snap his fingers and make the desk dissapear. “Altair was a good kid before you got your hands on him, a little idealistic, but at least he believed in right and wrong… Now you’ve gone and given me a disciple I never asked for. So… I’m going to make lemonade here and help him overthrow your government!”

“You can’t, you have limited power here.” Steven said simply. “Maybe you can make him a can of soup or something, but I believe you used most of your power making my desk disappear.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do with limited power.” Discord said cheerily. “I love a challenge.” The Chaos God snapped, once again the desk was back where it was. “Anyway, I just wanted to inform you of your imminent demise! Tata!” Before Steven could get another word out the chaos god had transformed into a fly and buzzed away… The King looked at his desk, dreading the report he would likely be receiving shortly. He could only imagine what hell the man known as Altair Occisor was about to unleash upon his country.

[♠]

Altair quietly walked down the streets of a small village, his bike had run out of gas on the outskirts and he had wandered in looking for gas. The handgun in his belt gave the civilians something to see and fear, even the local police were too afraid to come out and face him. He still wore the mask, though he had drawn fearsome looking fangs on the outside to add to the mystery and intimidation factor. Atop his head was an Equestrian helmet that he’d taken from a dead soldier, aside from that there was little about him that screamed ‘Military’. All he lacked was a Chaos Serpent Tattoo to be considered a Disciple of Discord.

The man’s boots crunched the snow beneath his feet as he approached the gas station, there were several cars and trucks parked there, some of which had been filling up with gas when talk of the man had sent their owners running for someplace to hide.

“I fear no stallion… But that… Thing…” Altair heard someone whisper in the shadows. “It scares me.” Altair walked up to the door and looked inside, there was half a dozen ponies hiding behind the counters. They all yelped as he pushed the door open and stepped in… The haunting sound of soft humming filled the gas station convenience store.

“He’s the guy who’s the talk of the town… With a restless gun!” Altair sang quietly to himself as he walked down the aisles, he grabbed a couple cans of Wringles chips, as well as a six pack of rootbeer. With them in hand the man simply walked back outside and towards one of the trucks parked at the gas pump. He tossed the items in the passenger seat, whistling the rest of the tune as he closed the passenger door. He turned to walk around the front of the truck and found himself standing twenty paces or so from a stallion wearing a sheriff’s deputy uniform, he had his hand near his holster. “Oh no no… Don’t do that.”

“B-Beg all ya want! Y-Yer comin with me!” The deputy said, trying to sound intimidating.

“No, I wasn’t begging, silly… I said no because if you draw on me, I have to draw on you… And honestly… Who do you think is the faster draw?” Altair asked as he tilted his head to one side, the deputy looked between Altair’s hand and the gun in his belt, then took a deep breath. “Now, either draw or step out of the way… I’ve got places to go, people to kill, y’know?” The deputy took a deep breath and puffed out his chest, then shook his head. “Suit yourself.” Altair reached for his gun, so did the deputy. Altair had drawn his weapon in about two seconds while the deputy had forgotten to unhook the leather strap keeping his gun in the holster… He was now staring down the barrel of a very mean looking handgun.

“P-Please! I-I have a family!” The deputy said as he put his hands up.

“So do I.” Altair replied, keeping the weapon pointed at the stallion. “And you’re standing between them and I…” The deputy stepped away, Altair followed him with the gun. “You know, you’re the only one that had the sack to face me and even try to draw on me? If you ever run for sheriff lemme know, I’ll endorse you!” With that Altair lowered the gun, only slightly, before shooting the deputy in the leg. The stallion yelled in pain as he fell to the floor! “Don’t worry, I aimed for the fleshy part of the thigh, but it’ll look good in campaign ads! Y’all take care now.” With that Altair holstered his weapon and walked around the front of the truck, he hopped into the cab and hot wired the engine before peeling out of the parking lot.

The man left the village behind in his mirror, humming to himself as he took one of the cans of root beer and opened it. He sipped slowly as he tore down the highway at high speeds, even with the snow and ice. It was just him, his snacks, his truck, the road, and a little tiny fly that kept landing on the dashboard every now and then. The fly wasn’t bugging him, so Altair was content to let it live and let live… But only so long as it didn’t bug him. Altair had liked the last hamlet alright, but he wasn’t sure he’d like the next one as much… If he really hated it he might just burn it to the ground… Honestly he didn’t understand why Onorus didn’t bomb the Equestrians back to the stone age, they had enough Thermo-Arcane bombs to do the job… Hell, Altair would’ve pushed the button himself if he had the chance! Whatever the reason, it gave Altair a chance to be himself, straight no filter… Free.

Author's Note

Hey all! I'm back! I wanted to say sorry that this story is so Altair-centric, but I wanted to focus more on a single character than a bunch of them. Last time I felt like I spread myself too thin, so I want to keep that to a minimum here. I was also afraid of writing characters to be darker, to be a more chaotic good, so this is my attempt at busting down that wall. Anyway, I just got a new place to live, needs some work but all in all it's pretty nice, so no more asking for money in the AN. Thanks to everyone for putting up with that.

And as always, here's your song of the day, as if you need another one after that masterpiece in the story by Johnny Cash.