The morning dawned, and the battle lines were drawn. Ahead of us stood thousands of Sombra’s minions. Standing in full gear, completely still, was exhausting. Our generals must have had enough of the staring contest, and the order was given.

“Release!”

The battle had begun.

The catapults threw their projectiles forth into the enemy's ranks. A few scored hits, smashing the beings of darkness. I saw movement in their lines, and several things marching forward. Skirmishers.

“Captain, testudo formation!” Colonel Ranger called. Captain Birch repeated the order.

The front rank held their shields normally, but the ranks behind raised them above their heads. We were not quick enough, though. A volley of crossbow bolts flew into our lines, making some scream, a mixture of pain and terror.

Suddenly, the sky was filled with pegasi, the 13th Squadron moved out. Supercell could not contain the excitement.

“Yes! Go get the bastards!”

“Hush,” I commanded. He begrudgingly complied.

Suddenly, the pegasi started dropping.

“What the!”

Cries of pain reached us.

“What fresh hell is this?” Some sort of anti air device slaughtered the 13th. Reinforcements from the 20th arrived, going into the range of the device.

“No! Pull back!”

I yelled to no avail. Both Squadrons were mixed in the slaughter.

Another volley of bolts flew in, but nothing concerned me as I watched with horror as flyer after flyer went down.

“Ponies! Make way!” A hole was made and out dashed the Dragoons, adding to the confusion.

I did not need to be a military mastermind to know that their charge was a one way trip. They reached the skirmishes, and began to slice and hack them down. As they fled, bolts poured into them. The commander of the regiment ordered a charge, and they crashed into the front ranks of Sombra’s army.

They were all cut down, save for 100.

As the survivors fled, the remnants of our air forces also pulled back, completely decimated. It would have maked the most military sense to sit back and let the artillery do work. Definitely not to-

“Advance!”

That.

“No! Hold your position!” Somepony was calling out. That somepony was Captain Birch. I echoed their statement, not wanting to go until their army had been softened up. More NCOs started calling for the army to halt. Confusion reigned.

The enemy took advantage of the confusion. A force moved out to smash our lines. However our commander observed the movement.

“All halt!” Order was finally regained and the enemy turned tail. However, they had pushed up more skirmishers. The rain of crossbow bolts began again. We were caught once again in formation change and the bolts struck ponies down.

“Sweet Celestia!”

“Help me!”

“I'm going to die!”

“I need a healer!”

Others just screamed.

Block it out! Block it out Pick!

“Forward! Forward!” The lines jerked forward. We began marching. Through a gap in the shield wall I could see their skirmishers fleeing.

When we reached where their skirmishers were, we changed formation yet again. They ordered wedge formation. The center of the regiment moved forward a hooful of paces and created a delta. Our regiment’s commander, Colonel Trench, stood in front of the regiment, right in front of me.

“C’mon, stallions, forwards! Forwaah!” A crossbow bolt struck him in the neck, the tip protruding out. I gasped. Before I could leave formation and get him under the shields, a black swarm rose over the enemy.

“Bolts incoming!” Raising our shields, they bounced off.

“Charge!”

I could not help myself from calling out.

“No! We are too far away! We will get butchered!”

He commanded it again, louder. One by one ponies gathered their courage and started galloping towards the enemy. Meanwhile, I stayed their, paralyzed with indecision.

Think, think, think, think!

Buck it.

I began to gallop with my comrades, spear extended. We needed some encouragement.

“Give them a war cry!” The idea went over well.

“Ahhhhhwooooooooooooooooooo!” Thousands of deep stallion voices called out with fury. Suddenly, the pony next to me dropped. And then another one, and then another. Their crossbows were reloaded.

“Faster colts, faster!” More and more were cut down by bolts, some fatal, some not. There was simply too much land to cross before we reached their lines. I started panting from running with full kit.

Finally, we were within the last hundred yards. I singled out a target. Upon closer inspection, I realized he was a changeling. Strange. They must be mercenaries. Fear was obvious and some tried to run. To no avail.

With one final yell, we slammed into their lines. My spear found the neck of the changeling, skewering it. Unfortunately, the impact snapped it in half. I cursed and pulled out my sword.

From nowhere lept a changeling. Relying on pure instinct, I parried his blow. After parrying another one, he made the worst mistake he could have made. He charged. I crouched low, making him trip over my body. I rose, and he completely flipped over, his back on the ground. As I went to land the killing blow, something made me stop.

The changeling was me. I was staring at myself. The beast smiled, pulled out a knife, and stabbed my foreleg. I howled in pain and rage, and landed the blow.

“C’mon, push on! We're breaking through!”

It wasn't an exaggeration.

There was only three ranks left in the place of our furthest penetration.

I found myself next to Supercell, he was expertly fighting off two Changelings. He dispatched one, but the other lept behind him. Before he could kill my partner, I put my blade all the way through him.

“Thanks,” he grunted.

“Don't mention it.”

Together we made progress, the battle around us seemingly melted away. All that mattered was myself, my partner, and any Changelings in our path. I would hack, he would stab. We were cutting them down.

Until I was brought back to reality.

A bolt hit Supercell directly in the eye. He screamed in pain and collapsed.

“Supercell!”

He moved to say something, but began choking on his blood.

“Nononono, it's okay buddy, don't say a thing.” I cradled him in my lap, knowing I was witnessing his last moments. Memories started pouring through my mind. Our first time training together, being assigned to each other, working long night watches, him laughing at my stupid jokes, me getting mad about him beating the snot out of me in poker.

Supercell gave one last huff, and slipped away.

Rage.

Grief.

Hopelessness.

All flew through my brain at the speed of sound.

A few Changelings noticed the one pony alone in an island of peace, surrounded by a sea of battle, with a dead comrade in his lap. They attacked. I gently laid him down, and drew my sword.

I don't remember what happened to the two Changelings. All I know is that I gave them no mercy. Even when they begged for it.

Oatmeal Raisin came to me, his white coat covered in as much blood as mine. He was speaking to me, but I couldn't hear him.

“What?” The same thing happens again.

“They are behind us, sir!”

Author's Note

Two out of three done, you're rounding third and heading for home, people.