Author's Note

The biggest chapter in the story so far! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Read on!

(A3) - Prologue: Emancipation

No Glory Won

Act 3 Prologue: Emancipation

“To be frank: I was born to live, not to survive.”

Perspective: Sunshine Tempest

Okay, I know I started over the skies of Vanhoover. But to get an idea of what we were dealing with, I have to explain the gravity of the situation. And what it meant upon what we discovered soon after the invasion started.

The frontlines were static. Operation Ursa was a total bust, and it cost us immensely. The Changelings were well dug in, and we made no real progress. And for each passing year, we are prolonging the suffering of the ponies in the occupied cities. For each passing year, the Changelings grew in numbers and in strength. We had to relieve the pressure somehow. We had to find some way to achieve a breakthrough of any kind.

My Division, along with several others - whose names I do not know - were tasked to land in the 80-kilometer area in and around the city of Vanhoover. Our objective was simple: we were to open another front in the North for the Changelings to worry about and force them to divert their forces to the newly found Salient, and exploit the weakness on one section of the frontline to break through. We also knew that we would stay put and not advance any further for weeks until the main army caught up with us. I was used to staying dormant though. I did so for another three months in the mountains before Operation: Ursa began.

We littered the city with pamphlets from bombers, not risking civilian casualties with the actual bombing. They were offers of unconditional surrender or face total annihilation to the Changeling garrisons. The number of which shouldn’t be too much to worry about. Now, that ‘total annihilation’ part wasn’t exactly true. We were only intent on frightening the enemy to surrendering. But what some of the generals, whom of which designed and calculated this plan, had not realized was: The Changelings were not intent on surrendering.

Some of us, however, knew exactly what they were going to do and how to respond. And, of course, we received word that the Changeling generals said ‘no’.

We scouted the city with recon planes days after, checking to see if they were evacuating civilians, or doing something else. Before the pamphlet runs, there were definitely signs civilian life in there, doing only goddesses know what. But after the pamphlet runs, they seemed to have vanished into thin air. The commanders were skeptical. There was the possibility that they hid them in buildings, calling our bluff for the 'bombing runs' we were doing.

High Command wasn’t taking any chances. They wanted to preserve civilian life. They ordered a complete surprise offensive. Wasn’t too much of a surprise, considering that they knew we were going to try something.

But here’s the catch.

We couldn’t do any kind airborne paradrop from transport planes like how we normally do. The enemy had too much air superiority to conduct that kind of operation. Plus, they would most certainly have some kind of Radar, or AA defense set up around the area. It would’ve made the trip perilous, if not suicidal.

Because of this, the only other alternative for an invasion would be from sea, which would also be very difficult. They had coastal fortifications all over the harbor, and the beaches off to the sides as well were mined and guarded, stretching on for a staggering 100 kilometers beyond Vanhoover. The same was applied to every single naval base and city along the coastline. It would’ve been a slaughter, which defeats the whole purpose of this operation.

So you might be wondering by now, ‘How do you invade Vanhoover then, if they know you’re coming - with every single option being suicidally impossible?’ Well, the answer was actually very simple... Simply insane, more like it, but simple in the Grand Scheme of things. Remember when I said that I was a Pegasus, and that terrain was no problem for me and others like me to trek across? Well, Field Marshal Luna also remembered that she had pegasi at her disposal as well. A lot of them.

Three divisions worth of them - which is about 15,000 - 30,000 Pegasi.

She then came up with (in my honest opinion) a completely insane plan - one that almost cost me my life on more than one occasion. The kind of plan you read in a novel during its climax and the protagonist says ‘that’s so crazy, it just might work!’, except for this time I had no idea if it actually would work.

Luna strategized for all of us to fly in on our own, silently and swiftly, and take the city by complete surprise use our extensive training and the element of surprise to eradicate the enemy. And when she said ‘fly on our own’ she literally meant on our own, with just infantry. No armor support, due to tanks… you know, not being able to fly and all. We did have Amphibious Tanks - Amtracks we call them - at our disposal, but she still refused. Too much risk of collateral damage.

No aircraft to help us as well, due to the enemy having air superiority. And there was no way that Luna was willing to bombard or shell the city with civilians inside in order to clear us access. So we had to do this entirely by ourselves. Which means: this was an all-in gamble.

Thankfully for us, where Equestria lacked in the air now, she made up for it in the sea. We had - more or less - naval supremacy in the Lunar Ocean, to the West off of the coast from the mainland. I say ‘more or less’ because the enemy still manages to harass us with submarines, with their main flotilla of ships hiding away in the northern coastline of the Continent - far out of our bases' reach. Though they made no effort to show up today of all days. And that was good because the only way for the Pegasi to attack the city without being detected or shot was from the sea. We would have to use hundreds upon hundreds of transport ships to conduct this operation.

Princess Luna planned to execute the attack before nightfall when visibility is high enough for travel, yet low enough for insertion into the city. Capture as much element of surprise, as I overheard her say once. She also had a reserve army in the rear ready to infiltrate through the harbor to reinforce the city if the airborne operation happens to be successful - which was a big 'if'.

And after months of planning, training, preparing, and praying somewhat, the transports were finally launched on April 13th, reached the designated location by the morning of the 17th. There, they waited. By Dusk, we attacked. It took us 3 hours of constant flying between about 15,000 - 30,000 troops in complete darkness before we reached our destination. More than a dozen of us didn’t even hit their target area to land.

And you might be wondering: ‘That is the craziest plan I have ever heard!’

Yeah it was.

And... somehow, it fucking worked.

Lunar Ocean, April 17th, 1014. 18:46 CST.

The semi-warm evening sun was just starting to dip under the horizon as I was standing atop the deck of the transport ship. Standing amongst a crowd of ponies, we were all huddled together so tightly that there was no room for any of us to open our wings. We were all facing one direction, towards the bow of the ship. A large wooden pedestal stood in front of us.

Pegasi. There were no Unicorns or Earth Ponies here with us. Only Pegasi. Even Thestral Ponies were here. One of my friends, Raisins, would not be here to attend this operation as she was a unicorn. Maybe that was a good thing. Even if she could, it would no doubt be extremely dangerous - borderline suicidal. There were Pegasi flying all around us, shifting the clouds, and changing their shapes. They will create a cloudy overcast layer, cloudy enough for us to slip past anything we might encounter along the way. Thank Celestia for weather control, at least.

And after what happened near the Smoky Mountains, I was glad Raisins was back on the frontlines as a rear echelon guard. Goddesses know she needed some kind of respite from combat. It was far bloodier than ever imaginable. I shivered just thinking about it.

There were at least a hundred of us, possibly more, waiting at the deck of the ship to see what happens next. We all knew what was going to happen next. Well, we all already knew what was going to happen: we were going to probably die.

I know it sounds like I wasn’t all too afraid to die, especially since I considered myself to be a level headed pony. But the truth of the matter is: I was terrified to my core. And so was everypony else. The Commanding Officers who relayed this plan to us let it be known that a lot of us were not going to survive this day.

A lot.

I made no effort to hide my terror, though I did try to keep a stoic face in the midst of my shaking body. I wasn’t cold, but that didn’t matter. I was still shaking violently, as dozens upon dozens of tiny spasms wracked my being. They kept coming and did not stop. I tried a few times to take deep breaths, but they don’t seem to be helping any knowing there is the very real possibility that you might die.

Everypony else felt the same way. I could tell. And if I couldn’t tell, they made an effort to hide it. Some of the ponies around me had fearful expressions on their faces. Some even looked downright terrified.

It was getting loud. A hundred ponies cramped together atop a transport ship in the middle of the ocean tends to make a lot of noise. We were all anxious to see what happens next.

The wooden Pedestal in front of us all of the sudden had a flash of bluish-purple energy, silencing all of us. Soon later, a Midnight Coated Alicorn with a Crescent Moon for a cutie mark stood before us, manifesting seemingly out of thin air. She stared down at every single pony in front of her, and I think she may have locked eye contact with me as well.

What was Princess Luna doing here? Out of all the transport ships, why would she choose this one?

She stood tall - Proud and Regal, as her horn illuminated in a soft Azure glow. Then the glow increased as it hummed with energy. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words that came out were loud - louder than a hundred ponies cramped atop a ship. She spoke to all of us, in her signature Canterlot Voice.

“Ponies of Equestria. Brothers, Sisters, Mothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters; Friends and Family. This week, we embarked on our ships in hopes to launch a crusade against thy enemies. They grow stronger on our home soil with each passing day, and some fear the end of Equestria would soon become a reality. That is false!”

She then started pacing back and forth along the rampart, her wings unfurled. “My Sister, Cadence, Twilight and I want to reassure you all on this night. For tonight, we are to silence and stow away those fears. For tonight, we are to launch an all-out assault against our foes and to restore what is rightfully ours.”

She stopped pacing in the middle of the Rampart. Then her horn illuminated again. Nothing happened around us. No sound was made, no spells were cast, no-

My thoughts were interrupted as I had noticed the sky around me change color. I instinctively looked to the West (or tried to, given on how many others were doing the same thing - blocking my view) and I saw the sun quickly dip under the horizon, changing the atmosphere to a blueish purple. The sky was tinted in Twilight. The Full Moon then rose over the Eastern horizon, giving the ship and the oceans around it a soft glow of moonlight.

I stared at the moon. I admired its strange and mysterious beauty. And for a little moment there, my fear and anxiety of what was to happen had ceased entirely. I felt catharsis. At peace. I felt like nothing would weigh me down… at least for a moment.

Princess Luna boomed her voice again, snapping my attention back to the Alicorn. “Let this beautiful night be a blessing and an omen that we Princesses, and all of Equestria, are watching over you. That we are protecting you. And that we are relying on you. YOU ARE PEGASI!” she bellowed as she stood on her hind legs, the very air seeming to shake and vibrate by the power of her voice. And that made me both admirable and terrified of her. But more admirable than terrified. She slammed her hooves down on the floor as she continued, “YOU ARE EQUESTRIA'S FINEST! YOU ARE THE ELITE! IF ANYPONY CAN MAKE THIS HAPPEN, IT SHALL FALL UPON YOU.”

She stood on all fours again, as her voice died down… just a little. “And I also want to make something absolutely clear to all of you. I know many of you are angry, and hurt, and suffering in silence for what has happened to our home. I know many of you hate our enemy. That you would wish to make them suffer for the wrong and the atrocities they have committed. And that you wish to enact vengeance upon them. While it is not without cause, I beg of you - for those who feel lost and angry - do not pursue revenge. It will only make our enemy stronger.

“The enemy seeks to fight us for our love. We shall not give it to them. If they wish to take it, they shall try to do just that: they shall have to take it from us, even from our dead bodies. But if your soul is filled with hate and vice, you will only weaken yourself. Only through the magic of friendship, through the combined power of Pegasi, and through sheer determination, can we win this day.”

Her horn illuminated once again, as an aura of blue energy enveloped all of us. Her horn glowed brighter and brighter, until a blinding flash covered my vision, making me raise a hoof over my eyes to block the blinding light. Just as that was happening, I felt a wave of energy rush through my body. And a wave a coolness coursed through my mind as well.

Suddenly, I felt… good. I felt alive, full of energy, and my body stopped shaking. My head also felt clearer, like I could think with clarity. I was having ideas! Not only that, but I felt confident in doing so. I felt like I could take on the world!

I looked around me, as other ponies had mixed expressions on their faces that told me they were feeling the same thing. Sweet Celestia, I actually felt aware of my surroundings! Princess Luna looked exhausted after that spell. Her horn still illuminated, but beads of sweat-drenched her face and coat.

“Pant, Let this,huff, blessing be upon you all tonight. For tonight, you are no longer ponies. You are no longer mere Pegasi. You are the Night’s Champions. You are soldiers, embarking on a crusade that will very much determine the fate of our way of life in Equestria. And quite possibly the whole world as well.”

I should’ve felt scared at those words. I didn't. Instead, I felt like I prepared all my life for this. I didn’t, obviously, but that’s what it felt like.

“The enemy will not expect us. They will not win and survive this day. I know this because you will ensure that is possible. You will ensure the victory of Vanhoover, and the survival of our country. Of our species. Of our way of life. And of our home. Your loved ones. Your friends. Your family. Everypony you love and hold dear is counting on you to win this day!”

Despite her exhausted state, Princess Luna stood on her hind legs again - a little shakily this time, but she got it. She then boomed her voice once again. When I looked up at her again, I noticed a large formation of Pegasi from behind us fly over our ship, heading NorthEast. The invasion had already begun.

“NOW GO FORTH, MY LITTLE PONIES! FOR TONIGHT, WE SHALL WIN BACK OUR CITY! FOR TONIGHT, WE SHALL FIGHT FOR ALL THAT IS GOOD! FOR TONIGHT, WE SHALL TAKE BACK WHAT IS OURS!”

There was another sound that filled the air. It was the sound of overwhelming cheering.

“Everypony loaded up? I sure as fuck hope so, because you’re lifting off in two minutes!” The Unicorn Officer that replaced Princess Luna’s position barked at us. Luna teleported away after her grand speech, leaving me (and everypony else) inspired and confident. “Anypony who hesitates to take off will be arrested or executed if you resist! Pegasi Officers will fly in with you during this operation to ensure of that. Do I make myself clear!?”

Of course nopony said no. Nopony was afraid. Not even me! I felt like I could take on the world!

“Sir yes sir!” we all shouted in unison.

“You will fly North East for one hour, than bank East for another hour. Within at least two hours, you will arrive at Vanhoover. Your Company is assigned to the ‘Thestral’ Division. Your task is to clear out the Western side of the city, and advance until you reached grid ref 875-237.”

Everypony eyed each other with confusion.

“Your officers will guide you, and order you to follow his instructions.” He spoke, hinting at everypony's confusion. “Stick with your battle buddies, and follow instructions. And if you have a good aim, you might just make it out alive. Do you understand?!”

“Sir yes sir!”

“One Minute!” another pony called out.

All of the Pegasi shifted position, readying themselves for take off. I saw Sergeant Baker, my Pegasus Officer, stand near the front of the pedestal, talking with another high ranking pony. I had no idea what of though, as I was out of earshot. I inspected my equipment, making sure I had everything I needed.

My rifle; check. My first aid kit; check. My ammo, with magnetic stripper clips; check. Magnetic Horseshoes (how else do you think we could hold rifles, and reload with our hooves?); check. Grenades; check. Vest and Pack; check. Combat Knife; check. I had everything.

“Thirty Seconds!”

Everypony instinctively crouched low, assuming takeoff stance. They all had looks of determination and resolve smitten on their faces, ready for combat. Looking more like soldiers then ponies. Baker then trotted back to the line, and assumed takeoff position as well.

“Fifteen!”

I unfurled my wings, and crouched low, gritting my teeth more groups of Pegasi were still flying over us from Transport ships behind us.

“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.”

I shuffled my hooves and body a little more, to loose the shakies that I still had.

“Six. Five. Four.”

I took one last deep breath.

“Three. Two. One. Launch!”

At the word ‘Launch’, every single Pegasi that could was ascending upward, in an unorganized, but tight formation trying to reach the cloud layer. We were all flying fast and straight. Several officers had their whistles blown, with pistols out as they were flying with us. Battle cries and cheers, as well as yelling and flapping wings filled the soundscape around me.

I didn’t make any sound. I didn’t need to. Hundreds of Pegasi around me were doing that already. I wasn’t much of an ‘overzealous cheering’ type of pony anyway. Though I did commemorate their bravery for being able to stay this optimistic, even if for a short while.

We all flew in the same direction, North East, as we began to shift and merge into a different formation. It soon formed a thick chevron-shaped cluster with a spearhead facing forward. I was somewhere located in the back left.

I don’t really recall much from our flight. Say for a few small chats I had with some other ponies I recognize, knowing all too well that it could be our last. I tried not to get too close to ponies after the Ruby Mountains. I lost a lot of good friends there, and almost lost Raisins as well. She was the only few close friends that managed to survive the onslaught.

I do remember a few faces in that formation though. I was assigned to a squad of nine, and I remember a select few others; Three rifle-ponies (such as myself. I wasn’t anything too fancy despite being in an elite company. I did have more ammo than the average foot grunt though, so it was something.), a Medic (A white painted Pegasus I didn’t know.), an officer (that was Baker.), a Machine Gunner (who I remember going by ‘Spade’, for the Ace of Spades as his Cutie Mark.), an AT Specialist (going by Boomer.), an Engineer with Explosives, and a Radio Pony. (Normally that would be Raisins, but she wasn’t here. I do know that the replacement is a recruit named Buckeye.)

I also remember that we had to go over our plan of action while in flight. We did review what exactly we would be doing before the invasion began, but the leading officer of my Company had very specific orders for all of us. “Ponies, listen up!” I heard one of the unfamiliar lieutenants speak up in the front of the formation, almost barely audible among the chatter and noise. As soon as he yelled though, the passing conversations dulled down a little.

“We are tasked to land Northeast of Vanhoover Harbor, near the Downtown District. The whole city will still have some civilians left over hiding inside the buildings, so PID your targets. Our task is to move in, block by block; street by street; building by building until we reach the City Hall. There, we will hold our position and wait for reinforcements. Understand?!”

“Sir yes sir!” we all shouted back diligently, like good soldiers.

About an hour has passed. We still see ocean, and clouds, but no sight of land. I knew it wouldn’t be long now until we were at Vanhoover. It was dark by now, making it harder to see one another as we flew. A few of us managed to bump into one another, causing a minor accidents. Nopony was hurt though, and they got back on course. But this kept happening for the entire trip.

I couldn’t see any landmass near us for miles. We were about an hour away still. I knew what to look for. A weird cross shaped looking bay that lead South, leading us towards the coastal city. If we were lucky, we should be able to fly through without being spotted until the last possible second.

We had just changed course towards Vanhoover not too long ago, now heading straight East. We were now heading straight toward the city. My mind lingered on its own, imagining what the city would look like under Changeling Occupation.

It just dawned upon me at that moment that I’ve never actually been to Vanhoover before in my life. I’ve heard tales about it though. About how it was one of the few first cities to industrialize, much like Fillydelphia and Manehatten.

Supposedly, back in the golden days when Equestria was experiencing its technological revolution, Vanhoover was the first city to industrialize. It soon had block upon block of different commercial and industrial building being constructed in the early years of the ‘revolution’. It was supposed to be bigger in size, but not as populated, weirdly enough.

It used to be way smaller than that though. Before the technological advancements, it was a tiny coastal town with a small pier dock as its harbor. It commenced commercial trade with the olenians as well, once we’ve established contact with one another. And for a long while, business was good.

The Olenians always were happy to do business ever since they’ve ended the raiding parties against us more than half a century ago. ‘The Hjortland Treaty’, I think it was called. But ever since King Aldar II died under mysterious circumstances, his illegitimate son, Johan, quickly seized the throne with the help of Nobles, Religious Zealots, and Businessdeer.

I never really took an interest in politics. It was just a bunch of talk that was too boring for me to tune in. I did read several history books in my school years before this war started though, years ago. I’ve always had a nick for history.

Supposedly, after Johan took control, trade had been much slower since. Not as profitable for both sides either. We still conducted business, though not as much and not as fruitful. Princess Velvet, supposedly being the rightful heir to the throne of Olenia, fled to Equestria soon after. I never really did find out what happened to her.

After trade became less profitable, Vanhoover decided to expand on its own. It already had industrialized centuries beforehand, but it still continued to grow. As if the city itself was a living being. The population rose, commercial business were erected soon after, seafaring businesses lost traction, and industry grew.

From then on, it became one of the many Industrial Hubs that grew across Equestria. It wasn’t the only one, but it was the biggest seafaring one by far out of all of them. Manehatten at the time couldn’t even match its seafare trading output.

After the invasion of Olenia, however, things changed. Soon, the trading harbor was converted into military dockyards and repair yards. It soon transformed from a seafaring trading town, to a sprawling metropolis.

Not that the dockyards helped us out any. Many of the dockyards were severely damaged during the first battle of Vanhoover, by the bombing raids that occurred beforehoof. The city was pummeled into submission from air and sea. When the actual attack came, resistance only lasted for a week before the garrison guards surrendered.

I wondered about the fate of the ponies who stayed behind in occupation. I had multiple imaginations of what could be possible. Slavery, Execution, Stuffing them inside those pods with green ooze in them. I shuddered. I felt a pang of sadness for the many who are experiencing that kind of hell. But the truth of the matter is; I didn’t know. If there are ponies who did know - other then the victims themselves - then they made no effort on disclosing that information to anypony else.

But this time, we could fix that. If this attack goes well, which--again--was a big “if”, and if everything goes according to plan, we could save those ponies from that fate. A part of my mind felt more hopeful now, and even more confident and brave thanks to Princess Luna’s spell. The other part of my mind, the more rational and logical part, also knew it wouldn't come easily. And even through my optimism, I could still die. The thought of death still lingered in the back of my mind

I was flying on “autopilot” to myself while I lingered on those thoughts, when I accidentally grazed my wing on a stallions flank. I shifted position to my right, slightly blushing, while he looked at me with an expression of annoyance. Getting lost in my thoughts was sure to make me crash into others.

Flying in darkness and in clouds was easier said than done. I couldn’t focus on history now, there would be a time for that later. For now, I just kept flying.

“We’re five minutes out!” I heard Baker yell from the front. I was exhausted by this point. I wouldn’t be flying again for a long while, given how sore my wings were already. Flying for two hours straight took a toll on us all. My sides were also burning from the exertion. I could float and hover in the air afterward maybe, but not for long. For all of the endurance training I had… well, endured, it wasn’t enough to mask my weariness.

“Alright, everypony follow me! We’re diverting course now! Get your rifles ready, and prepare for contact!” an officer yelled at the front.

With those words, I saw the first few rows of Pegasi turn to the right, now facing towards a large blob of lights that I could barely see through the clouds. The rest of us soon followed, some off us a little off course due to being lost in the cloudy darkness. But through the hazy puffs of water vapor, we could see a city of lights. Soon, all of us started shrugging their weapons from their shoulders and held them in their hooves. I did the same.

It was already loaded, just not ready to fire yet. I proceeded to cock the bolt-action lever back and forth to load my next bullet - a feat that would’ve been impossible had it not been for the magnetic horseshoes.

Everypony was now flying with guns in their grasp. We all flew at a slower pace, to keep a stable flight pattern in case we had to shoot in mid-air. All of us looked tense, but not afraid. I certainly wasn’t afraid about it (thank you, Luna) but I still had the shakes.

“Alright, lets go over our POA once more, so you are all familiar with it.” I heard Baker announce in the front. “We’re landing near the shore of the Southern downtown district. Our objective is the city hall located to the far East of that said district. This will be a dense urban environment, so stay alert at all times. We’re to occupy the city hall, and relay to the other platoons of our progress. When all is said and done, the city should be ours by the morning.

“We’re expecting a lot of resistance, as well as civilians still inside the city limits. So make sure you PID your contacts. I want to avoid collateral damage as much as possible. Once we land, find the closest spot of cover you can find. The enemy will most certainly try to kill us while in the air.”

As if on cue, I saw several beams of light emit from the surface into the sky. It was coming from the city. Searchlights. It looks like the others before us had already arrived, and announced our presence.

“Well, they know we’re here now.” Spade muttered, as he pulled out his Bren MK. II Machine Gun.

“Get ready for gunfire. Once they start shooting at us, dive as fast and as erratically as you can.” Baker ordered.

I followed behind the other Pegasi through the clouds as we all readied our weapons. We flew through a break in the clouds.

And then I saw it.

The city of Vanhoover was a city of lights. Not just lights from buildings, but also search lights as well. Gunfire can now be heard, as well as sirens. Tracers could be seen flying towards the sky, no doubt directed at the Pegasi. Everyone inside the city is wide awake now, and is now on full alert.

But I saw something else as well. Rising way up high into the sky was a black, sickly looking spire. It was planted in the middle of the city, rising up high for kilometers. It didn’t penetrate the cloud layer, but it grazed the bottom of it. The base of the tower was thick and strong, but kept getting thinner and thinner as it rose higher.

That definitely was not there before.

“What in Celestia’s Mane is that thing?” a mare asked somewhere near me to my right. Before anypony could answer, a blinding beam of light was shot in our area. Realization slowly turned into horror as I found out that one of the spotlights have managed to detect us. Soon after, there were tracers now flying at us. Deafening cracks and pops of the bullets whizzing just centimeters by me filled my ears. Some of the bullets struck several different pegasi around us, causing them to fall lifelessly towards the ground.

“Dive, Dive, Dive!” I could hear somepony yell over the chaos, causing me to follow behind Baker’s group, who were now descending straight downward towards the city’s seawall. I saw shapes among the streets running around frantically, and I wasn’t sure if they were ponies or Changelings.

I tucked in my wings while diving to increase my speed. We were flying even faster now, trying our best to avoid the hail of bullets flying towards us. The searchlights beam tried to follow us, but we were faster. In about 15 seconds, we were almost to the ground.

I then unfurled my wings again, aching while doing so as our dive slowed down. We readied our weapons again, expecting trouble as soon as we got close. Yet we found nothing. Those shapes that were running around retreated indoors. I still didn’t know if they were Changelings or Ponies. One by one, the Pegasi began to land on the streets near the seawall. I found Baker amongst them and landed next to him, my squad doing the same. Soon, the large formation of pegasi was reduced to a collection of small groups. Some smaller than others.

“Squad, roll call!” Baker yelled as more Pegasi swooped down to land. He silently started counting all of the ponies with us. I saw Boomer, Spade, Buckeye, and the few I didn’t recognize land beside us. Several of us stood on their hind legs and covered each other's blind spot from multiple directions while the others were still landing. Gunfire and small explosions can be heard echoing off of the building walls all around the city. Nopony was shooting at us though, so that was something. Though with the pony-like figures that we saw retreating indoors, I was skeptical how long it would last. I kept glancing my eyes towards the windows, trying to spot any shapes inside peeking at us. There weren’t any.

“Okay, we’re going. Everypony, spilt with your squad and stay close together. Be slow, be careful, and be wary. The enemy knows we’re here now, and they’ll be looking for us.” He turned East, towards the larger group of buildings that towered over the small houses we landed by. The black spire could also be seen, its ominous presence towering every single building in the city Baker pointed a hoof at it. “That Hive in the center of the city probably has more Changelings inside. And if they heard all of the commotion, they’ll definitely be flying out to join the fight.”

Everypony nodded at one another in silent acknowledgement.

“So, change of plans.” Baker trotted over to another squad, with an even more grizzled looking officer leading them. “Sharp, I want you and 2 other teams to investigate the Hive and relay me your results when you’re done. Let me know what you find.”

“Alright. Wilco.” a gray pegasus officer saluted.

Baker took one moment to gaze upon the remnants of our company. We didn’t lose any, but a few squads were down a few ponies. But for the most part, everypony looked ready. They were eager to get started.

“Okay, let's go,” Baker announced as he took lead.

The whole company I flew with to get here split apart with one another to avoid bunching up. We all separated into squads of nine, sticking with one another as we tread softly. I was rear guard, meaning I was in charge of watching our flanks - not to be confused with staring at other ponies’ actual flanks - while we all advanced forward. I hovered above the ground and aimed behind us, glancing over my shoulder every now and then to avoid getting lost.

Some of the buildings we passed by were still badly damaged from the first battle of Vanhoover. From what I saw, it seemed that the Changelings didn’t bother to repair anything that they caused. I peeked in some of the windows that were open. I kept thinking I saw shapes moving around, but every closer look I made revealed nothing. Must be my mind playing tricks on me. Though I wasn’t convinced

We started our trek across Vanhoover in the middle of the streets, which had scattered automobiles and some leftover debris littering the streets. Good cover, but we were still in the open. Baker took several detours through derelict alleyways, which had garbage and litter covering the pavement we trotted across. I aimed my Lee Enfield behind us as we slowly trotted forward. Moving between and fro buildings while quietly advancing forward, my mane felt tingly as well as my tail. Apprehension was ripe in the air.

“I don’t like this.” Spade spoke, his voice a whisper of a whisper. “It’s way too quiet for us.” I silently agreed. Gunfire and explosions we heard everywhere but here. It seemed too convenient.

“Shut it. Don’t jinx us!” Baker replied sharply.

Everypony was one edge now. We all kept trading glances at the brick monolithic buildings that surrounded us. Everywhere we went, there was a potential for ambush. Buckeye - the radio pony - stuck close to Baker. We were trained to maintain spacing between one another, on the off-chance a grenade or any type of explosive landed near us to minimize the damage. But in an urban environment with tight alleys and walkways, that was difficult. Sor for now, we all stuck closer together.

We walked outside of an alley and back out into the street again, when we heard it. A series of shots emitting from beyond the building we were facing. The gunfire then intensified. It was really close, about 100 meters or so, beyond what appeared to be an apartment complex connected to another one. The whole street was covered with those same type of buildings, leaving no room for alleyways to move in between.

“Squad, on me. Sweep the building, and man a window.” Baker ordered, as he pointed towards where the gunfire was coming from. “If somepony is in trouble, we have to help.”

One of the rifle ponies went in first, acting as a breacher. He moved slowly, methodically, checking every corner, crook, and cranny. I followed behind, being the second to enter the building. The others were still outside covering our rear. There were about 4 floors in this building. The gunfire that was near us soon transformed into an all out firefight. Explosions were also heard. It seemed they’ve resulted to using grenades.

The layout of the building was… weird. It had a staircase connected in one main chamber in the center, with rooms connecting off to the sides, that morphed into weirdly shaped hallways and bedrooms. The rooms were either unfurnished, or whatever furniture that was left was completely ruined. Charred chairs, sofas with holes in them, walls that had pastel ripped off.

There were windows that overlooked the back side of the building away from the street, revealing a tiny little park with a small garden in the center. That’s when I saw what the gunfire was all about. To my right, there were Changelings huddled behind an overturned wagon and some small stone walls connecting to the park. While to my left, I saw shots being fired from the windows of more buildings that lead into the park. I raised my rifle and took aim a one of the Changelings, who were unaware of our presence.

I hesitated. I had an easy shot on them, and they would most likely not notice me until it was too late. But the building wasn’t cleared first, meaning there could be something inside-

Just as the thought crossed my mind, I heard another shot fired from above me. It sounded powerful, as it echoed through the walls and the ceiling above me. I turned behind me, finding the one rifle pony staring upward as well. There was someone else here.

We trotted slowly upward, trying not to make a sound. I didn’t dare use my wings, thinking that a single flap could give us away. By the time we reached the third floor, the shot rang out again. It was still above us, and off to the right side of the building.

We continued to trot upward in the building, when I heard a voice as well. They sounded unrecognizable. Actually, I had no idea what they were saying at all. It was spoken in an entirely different language. That was the dead giveaway that they were not friendly. We slowed our trot to a crawl, stepping ever so lightly. When we reached the fourth and final floor, we took the door leading in the next room.

We stopped by a corner leading into the room when the shot rang out again. It was way louder than before. The pony in front of me raised a hoof, signalling me to stop. We both huddled near a wall, when he readied his rifle. I did the same. He slowly peaked his head beyond the corner, then retreated back, turning to me.

“One.” his mouth moved, but no noise came out. I nodded, and aimed at the doorway. He then trotted in, his weapon raised.

In the rules of combat, you were taught to force the enemy to surrender if at all possible. It was called ‘The Canterlot Convention’, which was basically a guideline that ruled against all war-crimes in general. If he has his back turned, spook him into submission. If he is hopelessly beat, order them to surrender. Things like that. That was what I imagine happening right now. We both trotted on our hind hooves slowly, our weapons raised at the lone Changeling with a sniper rifle. He was manning a window, aiming to the left at the ponies inside the other buildings. The firefight was still going on outside.

My battle buddy gave a low whistle, making the Changeling flinch. He (He? Them? I’ll assume its a He, since they seem male enough.) turned to quickly face us, and found to rifled aiming at him. His eyes widened.

“Drop it.” I muttered, low and menacingly. “I see so much as a shimmer from your horn, and you’re getting a new breathing hole.” The rifle clattered on the floor, the Changeling raising his hooves in the air.

“Scheiße!” the Changeling growled.

The pony next to me (I really need to learn his name) trotted over and kicked the rifle out of the way, and proceeded to subdue the Changeling. He pulled out a pair of metallic cuffs. He restrained him, then placed a small ring over its horn - which was difficult considering the horn looks misshapen and deformed. After he placed a gag in his mouth, he signalled me to get the others.

I galloped toward a window leading outside towards the street, finding the others looking up at me. “We got one of them restrained up here. There’s a firefight on the other side.” I called out.

“Alright, move! Get inside and occupy a window! Wait on my mark!” Baker yelled, as ponies began to file in one by one. I heard thunderous hoofsteps below me, and gunfire outside of the building.

I then heard a shrill and pained yell behind me, coming from the room where the Changeling was in. I rushed back in, and barged in to a horrific scene. The pony who was patting him down now had a horn impaling his neck, going all the way through. I felt my stomach twist into knots, as my battle buddy gagged and coughed up blood. His expression morphed into pure terror. He collapsed backwards, and went still afterward.

The Changeling pulled his horn back, and turned to face me. He couldn’t move his hooves, and his magic was useless, but he could still fly. He hovered in place as he stared at me, and began to fly rapidly towards me. I was snapped out of my stunned state, and was barely able to dodge to the right. He overshot me, and his horn got stuck in the wall.

PKOW!

I shot rang out from my rifle, aimed at his head. He was slumped on the wall afterward, remaining motionless as his horn was still stuck. Green ooze seeped down his left temple. My hooves were shaking. I gazed back at the pony on the floor. A pool of blood was forming underneath him, his eyes gazing behind his head. He was dead.

Baker and Buckeye ran in and stopped cold at the scene. I was holding my rifle, shakily I should add. Two dead soldiers were next to me, one by my hooves.

“Ch-Changeling, he- he… he stabbed him with… h-his horn.” was all I could mutter. I felt revolted from the inside out. I tried my best not too look at visceral display of corpses in front of me. I was shivering like mad, and I felt… wrong, all over me. “C-Couldn’t save him…”

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt!

Sounds of machine gun fire were heard outside, as bullets whizzed inside the room through the windows. I fell on the floor, and crawled my way towards the doorway. Baker and Buckeye retreated back into the hall with the staircase.

“Open fire! I want Fire Supremacy!” Baker yelled at the top of his lungs, as more gunfire was firing back towards the Changelings. I heard Spade’s gun firing away with righteous fury, as the whole building kept shooting.

I made my way towards the staircase, violently shivering at the ordeal I was enduring. Adrenaline tingled all over my body. “Find a window and shoot back!” Baker ordered. I trembled as I got up to my hooves, and proceeded to head towards the left side of the staircase - ‘left’ in the perception that you were outside staring at the front of the building. I found another poorly furnished room, and peeked over a window. The Changelings behind the stone wall were limping lifelessly along it, while the ones behind the wagon were still exchanging shots at the building. One of them had an MG pointed at our building, spraying away.

“Wait ‘till he reloads, then counter-attack!” I heard a voice call out below me. I aimed my rifle by the wagon, at the Machine Gunner.

PKOW!

The shot failed to connect and landed on the ground beside him. He turned his attention toward me, making me zip back behind the window. More tracers were flying in the building. I cocked the bolt, loading my next shot.

“Who’s got a grenade?!” I yelled towards the doorway where I walked in from.

“I can’t get a good angle. He’s got me pinned!” I heard Boomer reply.

I cursed under my breath, as I laid down. He was still spraying at us. How much ammo does that thing have?!

“It’s belt fed! We’re gonna be here a while if we can’t kill him soon!” somepony else screamed.

“Clock, Sunshine, get outside and flank them! See if you can divert their attention.” Baker ordered.

“On my way!” I heard a mare respond diligently. I crawled my way towards the doorway leading to the staircase, then proceeded to gallop my way down, following a peach colored mare with a blue mane. I saw several other ponies huddling near windows, shooting and ducking as I made my way down.

We made it outside, as me and clock headed towards another building. We dashed along the street finding a building that’ll give us a clear line of sight on the enemy squad. We found one, but the door was locked, and it wouldn’t budge. A few bucks from both of us quickly changed that, as we both rushed inside, not bothering to check the rooms. We found a window, and found the enemy next. They were unaware of our presence.

“Shoot the MG, I’ll get the rest.” I said, as I aimed at the Changeling. He kept shooting at the building where the others were in, but his head turned towards my general direction. Then he noticed me. His eyes widened.

PKOW!

Down goes another one.

Clock then fired, killing one of them as well. By then, they were aware of our presence, but were too badly wounded to fend us off from all directions. One of them yelled something in their language, pointing at a building behind them. They then proceeded to rush inside through the door, exchanging shots. There were only about five of them left.

“Shit, they went inside. We gotta head back.” Clock muttered, as she turned to leave. I followed. We made our way back inside the original building, where the gunfire died down to sporadic pops. The ponies who were in the other building fighting them were still firing away at the enemy.

“They made it back inside a building. They won’t budge!” I called out as I galloped in.

“Shit, going to clear that is gonna be a bitch. And we can’t advance forward pass them...” Baker spoke aloud. “Where’s my Engie?” he called out.

“I’m alive!” I heard a stallion’s voice call out above me.

“I need a Satchel Charge at that building. We’ll cover you, just blow that damn building to pieces!”

“I’m gonna need smoke, I won’t get close enough without being shot up.”

“Got it!” at those words, I reached into my pack and pulled out a No. 77 Grenade - smoke variant. I pressed the trigger at the top, and heaved them at the base of their building. Immediately after impact, smoke was spewing out. I watched as others did the same thing. Soon, only the windows could be seen. Everything else was blocked off, and out of sight.

“Okay I’m going. Spade, give me some covering fire!” He then dove out of a window, using his wings to glide down to safety. Spade fired burst shots at the windows with his Vickers. It seemed to be working. The Changelings weren’t shooting back. They were under too much fire. I wondered why they weren’t pulling back, considering how hopeless this engagement was to them.

The engineer made his way at the base of the building, and proceeded to fiddle with his pack. He then pulled out a satchel, which I assumed was the ‘Satchel Charge’ Baker was referring to. He pulled out a lighter, and flicked with it a few times, before lighting the fuse. He then chucked it into a window above him, and galloped away as fast as a pony possibly could. He dove into a window in our building, and ducked his head. “Get Down!” he yelled.

BOOOOOM!

A mighty explosion shook the ground we were standing on, as shrapnel and dust billowed outward. The whole building groaned and collapsed in on itself with a resounding crash. Dust and soot covered the entire garden, and nopony could see well beyond 50 meters. When the noise died down, the gunfire stopped. I heard a faint ringing in my right ear.

I peaked over the window, and saw the remains of the building. It was completely flattened. The buildings next to it had large gaping holes off to the side. Anything, or anyone, inside of there was most certainly dead.

“Did that do it?!” I heard the engineer yell below me. I was fairly certain, given the volume of his voice, that he was slightly deaf as well.

“We appreciate the assistance,” The officer thanked Baker. “We lost three of our guys before you showed up. Ambushed us from across the park.”

“Lost one of ours, too. Stabbed by a Changeling when we were trying to take him into captivity.” Baker then replied. We all met outside in the park, where the medic of our squad were tending to the wounded. There were about 6 confirmed casualties, 3 of which were KIAs. The other three that remained were in no shape to fight, one had a piece of shrapnel embedded in his eye. I couldn’t look.

“Sorry to hear. We appreciate it nonetheless, though.” The officer turned towards his squad of ponies, who were deflated and exhausted from the firefight. “Alright, when the medic’s done, we’re continuing with the mission. So hold defensives positions until then.”

“Same goes to you, as well.” Baker also turned to face us. “I want 360 security on the perimeter. Make sure another encounter like that doesn’t happen again, where we can get the drop on them this time.”

I saw as ponies slowly dispersed to their positions, the wounded staying near the rubble of the building that was recently demolished beyond recognition. My hearing had returned to me, though it still hurt. I flew up to the Side Gabled Roofs of one of the still standing buildings (which I will refer to as Condos, since they seemed to be living quarters.) I mounted my rifle along the crest of the roof, aiming below me towards a street stretching further towards downtown. My body rested along the Dormer Window sticking out towards the park. The black Hive Spire could be seen stretching up above the cloudlayer, its base illuminated by vibrant orange lights from below it. I then discovered that they were fires.

Gunfire, Explosions, Sirens, and some panicked Screaming, can be heard all around me. The city was in a state of complete disarray. Tracers could be seen flying through the air, completely missing whatever target they were aiming for originally. I turned towards the seaside of the harbor, where we originally landed. I saw more and more shapes of Pegasi flying in from the sea. About thirty minutes has passed since the first groups have landed, and now the last few are finally arriving.

By now, there were about 25,000 pony soldiers in the city limits alone. Not counting the civilians.

The sound of a larger explosion caught my attention, making me face towards the spire again. A large blast of fire was seen billowing upward from a cluster of higher tower like buildings that were placed near the spire. Its cloud flew gently upward, as the hot shockwave of the blast washed over me.

Soon, I heard a new sound. It was an engine, up high in the sky. I saw more shapes flying up there, but they were not Changelings or ponies. One of them flew through the cloud of fire that had appeared, dissipating the smoke as it flew gracefully through.

They were stukas. Their air support had arrived.

Baker flew up near me, and turned to look at the sky. “Fuck!” he muttered. “Buckeye, get over here! I need your radio!”

More of the stukas dove down on the city, and continued to descend. Before they could hit the ground, a terrifying siren could be heard from them, despite the distance from them to us. They then pulled up swiftly, as more large explosions decorate the city. The same blasts of fire were seen floating upward.

“They’re indiscriminately bombing civilians…” I muttered. “Just to kill us.” I felt something at those words I uttered. I felt… I couldn’t place my hoof on it. It was a mixed feeling of anger, despair, and sadness.

“Welcome to war.” Baker replied, as Buckeye landed next to him. Baker pulled out his telephone, and spoke into it. “All Stations, the enemy has air superiority. They are sending out CAS planes to pummel us into submission. Maintain the offensive, and stay in cover. Over and out!” he stowed the telephone away.

“Baker, sir! The wounded are mended! I did the best I could.” the medic yelled from below us.

“Alright! Everypony gather your gear, we’re moving NorthEast!”

We set off towards Downtown, where the monolithic and surprisingly blank condos increased in height as we trotted closer. We scavenged the ammo needed from the dead (which I did not participate in. killing an enemy and looting its corpse was one thing, but looting fallen soldiers was something to grizzly even for me.) and split it evenly amongst ourselves. I had about 8 10-round stripper clips left in my pack, plus whatever I had left in my rifle. I tallied the numbers in my head, thinking back to the previous engagement. I had about 7 shots left in this rifle, and I didn’t want to bother manually reloading it by slotting individual bullets in the chamber. I decided I could wait.

As the battle continued, parts of the city were cut off of electricity, resulting in a blackout in some sectors. It didn’t occur in our side of the city, but I doubt that would last for long. There weren’t many lights emitting from the windows of the condos, but there were enough. The street lamps also helped.

Several times over, we had one of the rifle ponies (me included) fly up ahead and scout forward, usually resulting in visual contact and a quick detour. Our goal was still heading towards the city hall, a 5 story building with a balcony on the fourth floor stretching all around and above the circular foundation of the building. At lEast, that’s what Baker said.

I remember, when I was a filly growing up in ponyville, that my mother would take trips down to the marketplace next to the Carousel Boutique. I would stand and stare at the architecture of it in awe, wondering how and why that kind of building could exist. I had no idea at the time what it was used for, all I knew was that it looked pretty. It had a circular foundation as well, with a spire Gable Roof that looked like a spinning top flipped upside down. For some reason, that was what I imagined the city hall would look like. I would soon see enough.

An hour has passed since the invading force landed, and the garrison army is wide awake now. What used to be a collection of sporadic pops and small firecracker-like explosions, now transformed into automatic gunfire and massive ‘Booms’. The Stukas in the sky were flying all over the city, firing their cannons towards the ground when they ran out of bombs. We had to keep moving and retreating inside the condos all around us when one of them looked like it was heading towards us. Thankfully, no gunfire came, and we pushed on.

We trotted for about 25 minutes since we left the small park, heading further East into the city. We were trotting toward the general direction of the hive that towered over everything. Everypony was more on edge ever since we left the gardens. More rapid gunfire was heard near us towards the South, though we didn’t bother to check it. We had more pressing objectives to tend to, as Baker said.

We decided, unless absolutely necessary, to not go inside the buildings. Changelings could literally be anywhere, and we wouldn’t know until it was too late. We stayed close to the sides of the street, but never on it directly. More wrecked automobiles and debris littered the pavement we trotted on. We saw ponies galloping across the street ahead of us, giving us a startle. But no gunfire was exchanged. The conflict was escalating by the minute, but it seemed we were making progress.

I had no experience with Urban warfare - aside from our last encounter - so I was constantly checking over my shoulder and above me to ensure we wouldn’t get jumped. But with so many windows, alleyways, streets, corners, crooks, doorways, and otherwise, it was impossible to cover everything at once.

Baker ordered us to take a left towards another small alleyway that led to another open street. When we emerged, we saw a bell tower towering over the rest of the structures around it towards the narrow end of the street. Several Apartment Complexes were placed next to it. They were about 6 floors high, with windows peeling out on every face. The bell tower itself looked ruined, but still standing. It had a large chunk of its top blown off, leaving space for several ponies to trot around inside. It was about a 3 minute trot toward it.

The apartments next to it were in worse condition. The walls that were on the base of the now unstable structure were gone. It looked like the work of a very angry pony wielding a sledgehammer, except it wasn’t. It was caused by something else. Bombing, maybe.

“Stay alert, our destination is beyond that tower. We’re out in the open, so keep your heads on a swivel.” Baker softly spoke, as if he was trying not to wake someone up. I focused on the sounds of warfare all around me. Too late for that, I thought to myself.

Then a whistling sound filled my ears, followed by a deafening crack. Somepony to my left groaned in excruciating pain, as I turned to look at Spade collapsing on the street.

“Sniper! Take cover!” Baker yelled, as we all ran in seperate directions in the condos next to us. The medic was trying to drag Spade towards Baker, when another shot rang off. It landed on the ground next to him, forcing him to pick up the pace. Blood was trailing on the street from where Spade was originally.

I retreated to the right side of the street, following Boomer and the Engineer. We both took position behind a countertop located further inside the building. This place used to be a storefront, I could tell that much. It was ruined and useless now, but it provided good cover. Nopony dared to peek outside, in fear of a retaliatory shot from the sniper. Baker and the others were huddled behind a pile of rubble near another storefront across the street, huddling one another as they stayed low. Another shot went off, striking the top of the pile they were hiding behind. They instinctevly ducked their heads again.

“I need a smoke on that street, now!” Baker yelled. The medic tended to Spade’s wounds, as he pulled a syringe and jabbed it into his torso. I saw a bullet hole oozing blood right below his left wither.

The peach colored pony - Clock - beside baker pulled out a grenade, and chucked into the middle of the street, before immediately ducking back down again. Another shot rang off, missing where Clock was just milliseconds before. A ‘poof’ emitted from the street, and white vapor was pouring out. A few seconds later, and the whole street was blocked off.

I watched as Clock peek her head over the mound. A few seconds later, another shot whizzed by, landing right in her head. She jerked back, and fell backwards tumbling down the pile of rubble. Her body landed right in front of the medic, who was startled by the sudden appearance of a dead pony. I felt a black vine tug around my heart at the sight of her corpse.

“Fuck, he can still see us!” Spade yelled in frustration, and in pain. “What do we do, sir?”

“Give me a minute, I need to think!” Baker replied sharply.

“We don’t have a minute!” The medic butted in.

“Alright Boomer, Sunshine, loop around the building your in, and find out where he’s shooting from! Everypony else, stay down and don’t move; He’s got skill!” Baker pointed a hoof at my direction.

“Okay, lets go!” Boomer pulled me away from the storefront window - or what’s left of it - and galloped out through the back. I followed closely behind, making our way outside through the back door. Another ruined street came into view, as Boomer unfurled his wings and took off. He flew up to where he was just below the skyline of the roofs, not peeking over. I did the same, and we both proceeded to fly away from Baker and the others. When we were about 100 meters out from them, we stopped and hovered in place.

Boomer was a charcoal coated pony with a deep gray mane, making it easy for him to blend in with whatever kind of darkness he could find. The roofs were darkly colored, so it was somewhat safe for him to peek over. We both landed on a slanted roof of another condo, when he peeked over. I heard another powerful shot go off towards where the apartments were, making me and Boomer flinch back down. But no bullet whizzed over. Boomer slowly peeked over again, scanning all over the city around us trying to find the sharpshooter.

I peeked over, and saw the ruined apartments came into view. The bell tower was located in the center of a plaza, it looked like. It looked like some kind of residential block, with a larger paved street connecting to all the apartments and the tower at once. There was an open door located on the front of the tower leading inside, as well as a spiral staircase encompassing around the exterior of it. I then saw a flash of light emit from under the now ruined top of the tower. Another shot rang out not even a second after.

“There! In the top floor of that tower.” I pointed a hoof toward it. Boomer turned to look, as he reached into his vest to pull out binoculars. He zoomed in on the tower, eyeing it carefully.

“Yeah, I see him.” he paused. “Actually, I see two of them. A spotter and a sniper. They got our guys pinned.” Boomer spoke aloud. He stowed the binos away, and pulled out his rifle. The tower was still quite a distance away, about 200 meters or so, but he still aimed down the sights. “You flank around, and see if you can get a good angle on the spotter. I can’t get a shot on him.”

“Okay, cover me. I’m gonna loop around from the right.” I announced, as I turned around to drop off of the roof.

“Careful.” he added before I glided down.

I galloped as fast as my hooves could let me, sticking to any cover I could find while I was in the open. The sniper duo was focusing on the others, but they could still see me at any given time should I stay in the open for too long. Ruined automobiles, piles of rubble, destroyed wagons, and crumbled buildings proved to be sufficient enough.

I then stopped at the edge of an open intersection, the apartments visible on the other side. I hugged the corner of another condo stopping at the intersection, and peeked over. The bell tower was closer now, but I was below them. I had no shot. The apartments were across the plaza from them, meaning I would have an open shot if I made it across alive.

I contemplated my actions for a short while, aware of the consequences should I fail. By the second, my team was under the threat of being eliminated one by one. I couldn’t stall them for too long, they were counting on me! I had to be quick and thorough. I didn’t have a good angle on the top of the tower, but neither did they on me. If I was quick enough, I could make it across. But the distance between me and the other side of the street was immense enough to give the snipers plenty of time to react.

Galloping across was out of the question. It was too slow. I could fly faster, though.

I unfurled my aching and tired wings once more, and shifted into a low stance. Then I propelled myself forward with haste. In about 4 seconds, I flew across the street. No shots were aimed at me, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I made my way around the rear end of the apartment I was in, and found a large hole in the wall. There were no doors. I aimed my rifle inside, as I carefully trotted over the small pile of concrete and rubble. I didn’t have time to check the whole building, so instead I assumed it was empty and made my way upstairs through the maintenance staircase.

I stopped at the fourth floor and made my way down a narrow hallway. There were doors on the walls next to me leading to more bedrooms. I trotted through a detached doorway, and found two windows looking outside. One of the windows had no glass pane blocking off the window frame. The room was poorly illuminated, as the lights inside of it weren’t on. The power must’ve been out for a while. That was good though, given that they couldn’t see me that well.

I saw another flash and heard another shot come from the tower. I could see the two Changelings more clearly, who were still shooting at the street where Baker was at. I aimed through the broken window, and lined up my sights at them. One of their heads lined up nicely with my iron sights, who was standing on his hind legs.

PKOW!

One tracer landed right in the spotters’ left temple, causing his head to jerk back uncontrollably. He collapsed with a heap. The sniper took notice of my presence, and immediately started to relocate.

I heard another shot go off, but it didn’t come from the tower. Another bullet flew in from the left and landed in his chest as he was moving. He stumbled forward after the impact, and fell over the edge of the tower. I heard a scream, then silence as he landed on the ground neck first.

He went still after that.

Boomer and I made our way back towards the rest of the group, who were still (metaphorically) licking their wounds. Spade was still alive, but he was in no condition for over-strenuous activity anytime soon from what I saw. White bandages covered his torso, with a spot of crimson staining his upper left chest.

Clock wasn’t so lucky. Her lifeless eyes were staring in one direction, a bloody red hole planted in between her eyes. My mind lingered back to the memory of Salsa’s corpse, back in the mountains. I fought the sudden urge to hurl.

“Targets neutralized.” Boomer reported as we both trotted towards them.

“Good lad. Will he make it?” Baker asked the medic.

“He’ll live. He’ll be in pain for the rest of the day, but he’ll live.” she replied.

“Don’t you have any morphine?” I asked as I trotted closer, trying to ignore the peach colored corpse that was still there.

“I don’t have a lot, just about 6 syringes left. I need to save them for those who really need it.” I didn’t know what you had to do to qualify for needing morphine. But I wasn’t the medic, so I couldn’t protest.

“We need to keep moving, we have to capture that city hall.” Baker ordered as he stood up. He trotted atop the pile of rubble, heading further down the street towards the plaza. “Everypony gather your things, and move out.”

We all groaned and slowly got up to our hooves, as we proceeded to follow behind. I trotted over to Spade and helped the medic get him on his hooves. He almost fell down on the ground a few times when he stepped forward, but he was on his hooves.

I proceeded to follow Baker’s group, until I paused. I looked behind me and gazed at Clock’s corpse. I walked over to her, and gazed down at her face. It was devoid of any life. I pulled my hoof over her eyelids, shutting them. She looked more peaceful now, save for the bullet wound on her head. My stomach twisted in knots again.

“May Luna guide you.” I whispered softly, my eyes feeling stingy. I then galloped back toward the others, closing the distance.

We found ourselves sprinting down a more narrow street compared to the ones we’ve seen so far. It had more of those ruined condos off to the sides, some of them not even condos and instead just piles of rubble. The Stukas were doing a number in this city. Rapid gunfire could be heard in front of us, as we saw ponies up ahead taking cover behind an overturned automobile. About 5 of them, with 3 more laying dead around them.

“Squad, get ready for contact!” Baker yelled as we galloped closer. “Rain, Spade, flank right and get an angle on them. Use the buildings to your advantage. Sunshine, and Gear,” He pointed at the engineer. “You’re flanking left doing the same thing. The rest of you are staying with me, we’re gonna give them the time they need to fight back. Go go go!”

We scrambled into different directions. I followed behind the Engineer - who I now know as Gear because of the two metallic gears for his Cutie Mark - as we both made our way towards the left side of the street. As we got closer to the end, we took a left in a small alleyway, galloped forward, then took a right to another open street, where we saw another firefight taking place.

We stopped upon a few squads of Changeling soldiers huddled behind sandbags with tank traps on the front. They were exchanging automatic and semi-automatic fire with ponies about 50 meters across from them. They were deadlocked, and neither side budged. But they didn’t notice us.

“Oh shit.” Gear spoke. “Back up, back up!” he patted his hoof at my chest as he backpedaled away from the action.

One of the Changeling soldiers ducked behind the sandbag, his back leaning against it as he reloaded. He then looked up, and noticed both of us trotting away. He shouted in their language, pointing a hoof at me. I didn’t hesitate. I pulled my rifle up, and took aim.

PKOW!

It struck his chest. He wriggled around on the ground as he clutched his wound in agony, green liquid spurting out of it. I cocked the bolt, as the others turned around and noticed us as well. They aimed their weapons at us.

I felt Gear violently shove me out of the way as the Changelings opened fire. I fell to the ground on my back side, while he stood over me. “I said back up, not shoot!” he yelled as he pulled me up to my hooves.

“They found us already! I had to!” I replied, as we both galloped back to where we came. I looked back, and found bullets striking the wall where we just were. While I was looking back, I tripped over a piece of litter in my path, making me fall on my face. Fiery pain covered my snout, as I tasted and smelled copper. I put a hoof over it, and found blood staining it.

“Shit! Come on, get up!” Gear exclaimed. He dragged me by my shoulders and placed me behind a wooden barrel in the middle of an alleyway. More shots were going off behind me where Baker and the others were, as I stared in front of me where the other Changelings were at.

I then saw a shadow creep on the wall where we were at. I could feel my eyes widen. “They’re coming, they’re coming!” I yelled as I roughly shrugged Gear off, pulling out my rifle. I mounted the gun atop the wooden barrel, and aimed at the alleyway. A single Changeling soldier carrying a sub-machine gun trotted into view.

PKOW!

The shot missed his head barely, as he whipped back in cover again behind the wall. I cocked bolt again, and aimed. He didn’t come back into view.

“He’s behind that left corner!” I called out as I fired a suppressive shot by the wall he was hiding behind. Then I saw as the gun he was holding peeked around the corner.

Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka!

Bullets whizzed by as I hid behind the barrel. Some of the bullets struck through the wood on the other side, missing me by just inches. I felt adrenaline coursing my veins, as my heart beated like a jackhammer.

“Covering fire!” Gear yelled as he took a shot from behind the wall he was at. “Go, move up!” he fired another shot.

I vaulted over the ruined barrel, and galloped forward. There was a small ‘square’ of space that was in between the two alleyways that had a small patch of grass in the middle of it. I hid behind a building corner on the other side, and peeked over. There was nothing there for now, but I could hear mechanical noises on the other side. He was reloading.

I took another suppressive shot at the ground beside him, losing count at how many bullets I had left. I cocked the bolt again, and loaded another shot. Gear took a shot as well, achieving the same results. The Changeling’s weapon peeked out again as I ducked behind the wall. More automatic fire whizzed by me, missing me and Gear entirely. He was firing blindly so it wasn’t much of a precision burst, but rather a suppressive burst. Like what me and Gear were doing.

“I’m gonna move up, get ready!” I heard Gear call out from behind me. I turned to look as he peeked his head out from beyond the corner, eyeing my direction. He then turned around and sprinted towards me.

I was about to turn back around the corner I was hiding behind to suppress the Changeling, when more automatic fire was exchanged. Gear ducked behind the barrel I hid behind earlier. When the gunfire stopped, I pulled out a No. 69 grenade from my grenade pouch - a high explosive impact frag. I pressed the trigger at the top, and tossed at the space beyond the corner of the wall.

BOOM!

An explosion shook the surface as the ‘nade went off. It was replaced by the sounds of agonizing yells afterward. The poor bastard was still alive, and very much in pain. His yells turned into screams. I peeked the corner, and saw green liquid covering the brick walls of the alleyway. A black foreleg with sickly holes near the tip was found lying in the middle of the walkway. The screams soon turned into gurgles, and coughs. Then a long droning exhale that turned into silence.

I turned back to Gear, who was peeking his head over the barrel with a disgusted expression. He saw the foreleg, and his cheeks bulged. He ducked behind the barrel to vomit. I felt my stomach twist in appalled protest as well, but I managed to keep the contents inside me.

I aimed my rifle towards the edge of the ruined alleyway, waiting to see if any more would show up. The gunfire that was on the other side of the alleyway seemed to have died down somewhat. The engagement was over, it sounded like. I didn’t know who won.

I retreated back behind the wall, and turned towards Gear. He was still behind the barrel as he finished losing his meal. He then emerged around it, and stopped cold. His eyes widened.

Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka-Braka!

Dozens of tracers zoomed by the alleyway, almost all of which struck Gear. I watched in horror as his body collapsed on the ground. He sat on his haunches against a wall, his chest riddled with bullet holes. Blood was seeping out of all of them. He was bleeding profusely.

He coughed and gagged, while he weakly raised a hoof at me. His face was that of a plea for help. I couldn’t do anything. I was petrified. Motionless.

Braka-Braka-Braka!

More shots struck him, and seconds later he was still. His face was forever locked in an expression of terror. A pool of blood was forming under him.

I was shaking intensely. My hooves held on to the rifle with shaky movements. My breathing was rough and paced. I felt like I was on the verge of a stroke, while a tight pressure formed around my throat. I couldn’t help but stare at his lifeless body, his eyes staring at me indefinitely.

“Ziel neutralisiert!” I heard a voice call out from beyond the visceral alleyway.

“Machen Sie die Gasse frei! Mach Schnell!” I heard the same voice spoke. Or at lEast it sounded like it. I couldn’t tell.

I was snapped out of my horrified state when I heard hoofsteps around the corner. I backed up slowly not making a sound, aiming my gun at the space where they would come through. I aimed through my iron sights, not able to contain my breathing. I found another ruined wagon near the wall behind me, and knelt behind it. Covering my snout with my left hoof, I aimed ahead and waited.

I wasn’t sure how much ammo I had left. I cocked the bolt last time to know that I one in the chamber, at lEast. I was willing to make it count. A shadow crept along the wall, and I squinted my left eye. The black shadow changed into a silhouette, as he appeared around the corner. As I was about to pull the trigger, I saw another shadow creep up behind the first one to cross through. There was more than one.

I hesitated, and waited a tiny bit longer. What lasted in a span of a few seconds felt like an eternity. The Changeling turned his head around the alleyway, eyeing Gear’s corpse with suspicion. He trotted over to it slowly, aiming his sub-machine gun towards the alleyway I came from. He then kicked a hoof at his leg, to see if he was still alive.

He was literally kicking the dead horse, figuratively and physically.

I felt a spark of rage ignite into a righteous fury in my core. I spotted the second Changeling trot behind him into view, as he turned towards his right. He then noticed me. His eyes and mouth instantaneously widen as he tried to speak.

PKOW!

I let my rifle do the talking for him, as the bullet landed in the center of his neck. He tumbled backward and fell into a pile of ruined barrels, each of them breaking apart as he collapsed upon them. Green liquid was gushing out of his new breathing hole, as his weapon clambered on the ground. He wiggled around in the broken pile of wood, his voice gagging and hacking in pain.

There was no time to waste, I had to act now! After I shot at him, I vaulted over the wagon and charged the second Changeling head first. He was barely able to turn around in time to see a pegasus galloping towards him. Instead of trying to use his weapon, he instead attempted to dodge to the left away from me. I was one step ahead of him.

I unfurled my wings once more, and used them to propel myself forward to tackle him. We both collided with each other, as his weapon skidded across the floor. I still held onto mine as I landed atop of him on the ground. He laid back first as I raised the gun up and cocked it as quickly as I could. The second the bolt slid into place to fire again, the Changeling used his forehooves to punch the rifle out of my magnetic hooves’ range, and sent it flying behind me.

Then he tried to stab me, with his horn. He raised his head upward, lunging straight at my chest. I caught his head with my hooves, his horn just inches away from my torso. He looked at me with angry and determined eyes, and hissed at me with his green serpent like tongue. I grunted loudly and growled fiercely in response, with murderous intent.

I groaned in pain and in struggle as I was pushing the horn away from me with all my strength. It was barely getting closer, as he kept pushing forward. As it was less than an inch away, I twisted my waist towards the right, and launched his head forward where he was pushing towards. His momentum carried him forward far enough to where I could grab his head more tightly.

He then launched a hoof at my stomach with such force that the wind was knocked out of me. He turned his body around to face me as he was swinging his other hoof at my face. I countered it with my left hoof, stopping it before it struck. The force of his punch still bruised my leg. Then I lunged my face forward towards him, and headbutted him. Sharp pain stung my already hurting face, as I heard a sick cracking noise emit from his snout. He screamed in pain, and clutched his nose with one hoof. I then struck his left eye with my right hoof to follow through.

He collapsed backwards on the pavement, clutching his head with both hooves. He was softly moaning, as I wearily got up to my hooves. I stood over him on all fours as I bit into the hilt of the Combat Knife in my vest pocket, unsheathing it. I trotted closer to him while shaking, bleeding, and hurting. He opened his eyes to find me standing over him with the knife, ready to kill.

I mounted atop of him, and grabbed the knife with both of my hooves and slammed it down towards him blade first. He grabbed my hooves and tried to resist. I pushed downward as the blade crept closer to him by an inch. Then another inch. And another.

His eyes were widening as it got closer. I closed mine as I felt the blade touch him. Then I pushed downward even harder. Tears were flowing freely from my eyes, but I didn’t care. I kept pushing. I heard a small yelp. Then I felt an incision. Then I heard a gushing noise, as I felt his grip weakening. Gagging and hacking noises were heard from below me, as I kept pushing.

He went limp underneath me, and the knife was all the way through him now. I finally opened my eyes to find his eyes still staring at me, not moving. It turned from a blue glow to a grayish haze, the life of him drained from existence.

I stared at him, breathing heavily in quick and shaky succession. Then I pulled the knife out and slammed it down his face, screaming. I slammed it down again into his chest. And again. And again. And again. And again…

I released the green stained blade as I collapsed backward. I heard gunfire all around me, as well as explosions and screaming. I didn’t care. I wanted them to get closer. I wanted them to find out what I did, and finish me out of spite. I wanted to die. I felt like I had committed the most foulest atrocity, which I probably did. I cried tears of agony. I couldn’t contain it anymore. Everything that I held back so far was released. My vomit, my tears, my screams of sorrow.

I slowly, groggily stood on my hooves. Stepping over the corpse, I made my way back to Gear’s corpse. He was still facing where I was standing earlier when I watched him die. I patted his vest, looking for anything that might be useful for me. I picked up an extra smoke and an extra frag grenade. I tried my best to avoid my gaze directing towards his face.

I then heard an explosion coming from the street ahead of me going off to my right. It was at that moment where I remembered why I was back here in this traumatic alleyway in the first place. I gathered my wits, my equipment, and retreated back inside of a condo overlooking where Baker was supposed to be.

I stopped cold when I entered inside. Four small ponies - really young adults, they looked like - were huddled together by the central staircase, surrounding what looked like a barrel with trash inside of it. They set fire to it, and have huddled around it for warmth. They looked towards me, and stared at me with mixed expressions of hope, fear, anticipation, and grief.

One of them looked barely older than a filly. She steadily backpedaled away from me, into the hooves of another mare who looked older than her. The older mare held on to the young one with her front hooves, staring at me with fearful doubt.

Nopony spoke. We just stood there, staring at each other. I trotted toward the staircase, slowly. They took another step back.

“Is there anyone upstairs?” I asked blankly as I kept trotting forward, not really asking for an answer. They didn’t. I kept trotting upstairs, slowly.

“Is… is it dead?” One of the mares spoke.

“You’ll have to be specific.” I deadpanned.

“The changeling… the one that was outside.”

I nodded to her. I didn’t go into detail. Not that they asked me to, anyway. I trotted my way upstairs slowly and found a window frame overlooking another circular intersection. I smashed the glass in the frame, which made a deafening sound of shattering . My squad, along with several other ponies, were still huddled behind the large automobile. Further down the street, there were Changelings that were taking cover behind a tram car that ran along the rails embedded into the street. It was turned horizontal towards me, giving the changelings more cover to work with.

I shrugged my rifle off, and aimed down the street. My iron sights were larger than their silhouettes at a distance, making it a bit more difficult to acquire up a shot. Eventually, I lined up a shot and pulled the trigger.

Click!

No shot was fired. I inspected the weapon, cocked the bolt to make sure it wasn’t jammed. That was when I noticed that I hadn’t reloaded it after my last encounter. I fetched into my ammo pouch and pulled out two magnetic stripper clips, each of them carrying 5 rounds. I fed each clip into the opened chamber and cocked the bolt again.

I finished reloading and aimed ahead. I reacquired my target and pulled the trigger again. This time, a golden tracer was shot forward and barely missed one changeling who was peeking on the right side. He retreated back behind the tram car. I heard Baker yell from down below me.

“Boomer, blast them to fucking pieces with your Thunderbolt!”

I peeked at the window just in time to see Boomer stare at Baker, sitting behind the automobile. “Now?! You want me to do that shit now?!” He exclaimed.

“JUST DO IT!” Baker yelled back at him.

Boomer looked like he gave an overexaggerated sigh, as he took off his large pack and reached into it. Eventually, he pulled out a tube-like weapon. He placed it standing upright on its rear while standing on his hooves. He placed his two hind heels on two handles located on the rear side of the launcher, and gripped the sticks just above that to cock it with his two front hooves.

I took another shot at two changelings who ran out of cover to advance towards a pile of rocks and rubble on the sidewalk. The shot connected to one of their hooves, who stumbled forward behind the pile of rubble in response.

After about 20 seconds of cocking the Thunderbolt - while simultaneously being under fire - Boomer finally reached into his pack and pulled out a mortar-shaped round, and fed it into the barrel of the launcher. He then pulled down a little support beam from under the barrel, and mounted it atop the ruined car.

Cha-pwoot!

I watched the projectile launch way up above the street. Then arc downward. I saw the changelings look up in the sky, and then try to scramble in different directions.

Boom!

The explosion didn’t sound as loud, but it appeared to looked just as effective despite the range. The tram car looked as if it disintegrated into pieces. The changelings around it were either dead from the blast, or were knocked back by a few meters. The ones still alive were easy pickings. One of them peeked from over the rubble pile off to the right. I gave fired another shot, landing right in his forehead. Boomer turned around - with a grin so wide that it made me feel uneasy.

“Got ‘em!”

I eyed the street, waiting for more to show up. But none came. They were all dead. I gathered my belongings and galloped my way back downstairs. Mysteriously enough, the 4 ponies I saw earlier were not there when I ran back down.

I was now trotting over towards them, as they stayed huddled behind the automobile while tending to the wounded. There were ponies who were covered in bandages, as I saw white pieces of cloth stained red littering the pavement around them. Baker saw me come over, caked in dried red and green blood.

“Wh… where’s Gear?” Baker asked.

“He…” I started, only to stop immediately. I struggled with my thoughts for seconds, before sighing. My head felt just as numb as my heart to come up with something to say. “Dead.” I finished.

“Oh.” He deadpanned. “And… the ones who-”

“Also dead.” I interrupted. “4 of them, at lEast. Others didn’t come.”

“Oh.” He spoke again, in the exact same tone but with a different expression. One of… discomfort, maybe?

“Well. You did good, soldier.” He complimented, rather poorly.

“It doesn’t feel good, with due respect.” I replied blankly, staring into space. I couldn’t help it. My mind lingered back to that encounter with livid detail; how I blew the Changeling’s leg off; how I shot one in the neck; green blood spurting out of it as he was still alive; I thought about Gear’s death, how he stared at me as his life ended abruptly; how I stabbed the last one I saw 4 times in the chest, and three in his eyes.

It was… how do I even begin describe it? It was an entire plethora of traumatic thoughts, feelings, and memories, all balled up into one night of hell. I felt nothing but just bitterness, pain, numbness, apathy, and anger all in my core. “I don’t really know how to feel.” I spoke again, just as blank as before.

Baker didn’t look at me in the eye. I don’t know if he was afraid, or if he was just empathetic enough to not say anything. I couldn’t tell. My eyes stung a little, but not enough to cry - much to my despair.

I was cut off of my lingering thoughts when I heard static emit from the box-shaped pack that Buckeye carried with him. Soon, garbled voices were heard through the speakers, of which I couldn’t interpret. Buckeye could though, as he shrugged off his pack and listened intently.

“Uh, Baker? I got reports of Enemy Armour activity going on in the Southern districts of the city. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s where we are.”

“Shit!” I heard Baker whisper under his breath. “Any idea what they are? We expecting Panzer IIs, or worse?”

“Dunno yet. Trying to figure that out.”

“Okay. Syringe, how’re you holding up?” Baker asked the medic - who I now recognized thanks to him saying her name.

She looked up to Baker with a pleading expression, then back down to a slumped over pony who looked as if he was in agony. He had a purplish-yellow colored coat that blended together. There was a gash on the left side of his head, where blood was rapidly gushing out of it despite the bandages wrapped around it. There were also several bruises, small incisions, and some bullet wounds on his torso as well. He was still breathing, yet still very much in pain. I didn’t recognize him.

“Um…” Syringe started but shut her muzzle as she looked down on the wounded pony again. His eyes were closed, but his chest was slowly rising and falling. “Well, everypony else can manage, but… he.” she stopped herself. Then trotted closer to Baker, her voice lowered in a dull mutter. “He’s lost too much blood. I did all I could, but there’s still internal bleeding. If I were a Unicorn instead of a Pegasus, maybe that could’ve been different. But…” she turned back to the incapacitated pegasus, still slumped over. “He’s not gonna last for much longer.” she finished with a tone more somber than professional.

Baker - the ever so serious and stoic Sergeant - gazed at the fatally wounded soldier with a look of pity. He trotted towards him with ease.

Baker then knelt down near him, and spoke with a tone of softness that I don’t really see in him that often. He tapped his shoulder, who opened his eyes wearily. He met Baker’s eyes, and grinned. A trail of blood was seeping out of his mouth.

“Hey.” was all he could speak, before being invaded by a coughing fit. More droplets of blood gleeked out. His grin disappeared. “That’s… lotta blood.”

“Yeah.” Baker softly replied - blank in tone, though benign in volume.

The might-as-well-be dead pony looked toward Baker. Then to each of us as we stared at him. He then sighed. “I’m gonna die, aren’t I?” he spoke with a weird and unfamiliar accent.

“I can have Syringe here give you morphine if you would like.” Baker offered. A useless but generous exchange.

“Nah, keep ‘em. You’ll need ‘em more than ah’ would.” He grunted as he pressed a hoof along his belly. He then grinned again. “Besides, nothin’ can kill me. You know that more than anyone, ol’ pal.”

Baker than scoffed playfully at his remark, in a sad irony. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re about the toughest son uva bitch I know, Plums.” I was shocked to hear that he knew his name. It dawned upon me at that moment that the two of them must’ve knew each other beforehand…

Plums gazed at the medic mare who attempted to save his life. She looked away at his gaze. “Thanks for tryin’, doc… appreciate the attempt.” he muttered optimistically, if not weakly. Syringe looked still and neutral in her demeanor. She trotted away, still not facing him.

“Sir, we need to keep moving.” Buckeye spoke aloud, interrupting all of our thoughts and grief. “The city hall is besieged as we speak. Allied infantry is preparing to storm it soon.”

Baker nodded at him, and looked back at Plums, whose eyes were still closed. Baker tapped his shoulder again, prompting him to open his eyes. “Plums, I need a favor. Where is your squad leader?”

“Dead. By that sidewalk over yonder.” He shakily pointed a hoof behind Baker, towards a street lamp with a dead brown coated pony slumped beside it.

“Boomer, pat him down. Find any kind of documents, maps, charts, or anything of the sort.”

“On it.” Boomer replied diligently as he rushed over towards the corpse.

“What was your squad trying to do before we found you?” Baker then turned to ask another wounded pony.

“We-” he was interrupted by a violent coughing fit from Plums, which spat out more droplets of crimson blood. “We were trying to make it to the Supermarket, set up a temporary FOB. Our p-plan was to e-establish a central hub for communication.” he stuttered.

“Not anymore. There are other squads trying to do the same thing. You’re coming with us. All of you.” Baker stood back up to announce, the remaining survivors listening intently. Then he stopped as he realized that not all of them are alive. Plums stopped moving. Nopony saw when he did. Baker trotted up to his body, and pulled a pair of dog tags from his neck. He stowed them away in his pockets.

Boomer sprinted back into view, holding in his teeth several different sheets of paper of different sizes. He spat them out on the ground. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Baker softly thanked Boomer, as he pondered at a map of Vanhoover. It was nothing like the special magical map I saw in the Ruby Mountains that I saw Razor Claw use. But instead, it was a paper atlas of the road systems in the city. The geometry of the city was shaped like a snowflake. There were roads that turned corners and cut around rows of buildings, but they were all connected to one of the main roads that sprawled outward from the center. There was a roundabout plaza in the center that had a large “+” Icon crudely drawn with a marker along it.

“There. That’s the city hall. It’s a large palace-like governmental building that stretches up for 4 stories. The length, if I remember my briefing correctly, is about 200 meters across. We’re going to help occupy the Southern wing, as well as the roof.”

I suddenly heard a new sound... The sound of an engine behind me. I turned to look, only to find nothing but open streets. There were columns of black smoke filling the sky from different areas of the city, each of them towering higher than the black spire in the sky near them.

As I was staring upward, I found where the engine noise was coming from. A line of Stukas were flying low and in a direction away from us, but also close enough where we could see them. They then opened fire on the ground they were aiming at below, their cannons ripping through the air like a dragon roaring. I heard a series of small firecracker-like explosions emit from the direction they were firing in.

When the cannons ceased firing, they then released their payload of bombs towards their target. Even bigger explosions were heard as the Stukas finished their bombing run. We all turned to eye the aircraft in fearful awe. They flew out of sight behind the skyline of buildings soon after.

“Those aircraft have been pounding the city nonstop. Isn’t there a way to get rid of them?” I heard Spade ask as he kept a watchful eye out in the direction where the tram car was.

“If we find any kind of AA Armament, be my guest.” Baker dismissed, as he still pondered at the map.

“I don’t see any flak towers from here.” I muttered as I twisted my head around, taking in the scenery. The city was lit up by the several columns of blazing fires that were seen everywhere in the city. The Overcast night was reflecting the light of these fires back down to the ground, making the sky looking almost apocalyptic in nature.

I turned back around to see Baker pull out a compass from his chest pocket, facing the black spire in the sky. Then he turned to the right of it, towards a cluster of buildings that were in our way. “That way. We head towards that direction, straight East from here, we’ll reach the Hall under an hour. By 10 minutes if we could fly there, but that’s too risky. Somepony will definitely get shot down if we try that, and we can’t afford that many casualties in this operation.”

“So, we walk?” Syringe asked after trotting back into view, avoiding to avert her gaze at the slumped over pony corpse. His eyes were closed, at least. The thought of a pony’s dead body staring into my soul disturbed me deeply and scarred me.

My mind flashed back to that alleyway.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to suppress those thoughts. “For now, yes.” Baker answered. “We link up with the other squads who are besieging the hall and assist in the final assault. Then, we can access the loudspeaker system in the city and try to get the enemy to surrender through the intercoms. It should be located in the Mayor’s office.”

“So what next, then?” Boomer inquired.

“We march forward. Like always. And we don’t stop fighting until we capture the City Hall. from there, we defend and establish a forward outpost. Drive the bugs from the city. Relay to high command our success, and wait for the cavalry to come.”

“I see someone.” Spade called out, as he gripped onto his Vickers gun. “Wait, nevermind. They’re ponies.” he paused. “I think. They could be disguised changelings, though.”

I trotted over toward him and saw what he was referring to. A group of ponies - about 6 or so - were trotting across the street near the decimated corpses of Changelings. They turned to look at the bodies and seemed to have winced at the sight of a visceral scene. They then turned towards us, as we aimed down at them.

“Come on. Give the signal. Don’t make me do this.” Spade quietly uttered to himself. One of the Pegasi down the street hovered in the air and made an ‘X’ with their front hooves. Spade breathed a sigh of relief.

“They’re friendly. Just passing through.” Spade said, as he did the same thing back to them. The group down the street gave an acknowledgment gesture and sprinted down to the left. They soon disappeared out of sight behind a building.

“How much ground have we covered in this city already?” I asked aloud, wondering how many passing groups of ponies we have encountered already.

“We’ve conquered the SouthWestern Harbor, as well as the shoreline around it. Half of the city is practically ours. We keep moving forward until all of it is ours again.”

“What about the civilians that could be trapped inside the buildings still? Enemy CAS planes are not trying to PID their targets.” Syringe then piped up, reminding me of the four ponies I saw inside the Condos that vanished earlier.

“Once we tap into the loudspeakers, we will urge them to remain indoors. If we capture all of the city, and reinforcements arrive, we then evacuate them by sea. Get them out as soon as possible.”

Syringe’s shoulders seemed to have slumped slightly as she sighed at those words, as if she was relieved to hear such a sound plan.

“We’re draining their time sitting here. We need to keep moving.” Spade spoke as he turned around to face us. “The longer we take to occupy the city, the longer these people will have to wait to suffer.”

“We’ve already occupied a good portion of the city with resounding results. We’ve taken casualties, but the enemy has as well - more than us. Success will come before the night is over, I reckon.” Baker reassured as we all began to gather our gear and belongings.

“Sunshine, fly ahead and see where the nearest main street is.” Baker ordered, snapping a hoof at me.

“Got it.” I replied as I took off. I flew ahead towards a wall of buildings that Baker pointed towards earlier when holding his compass. I found a series of circular arcs along the ground that curved toward the spire. They were poorly paved roads that looked as if it was unfinished. Probably was still under construction by the time the changelings attacked the first time. Which meant that the construction was postponed for at least 3 years.

I flew forward in that direction, gliding from rooftop to rooftop. The roads became cleaner and more paved as I kept following along. Eventually, it turned towards a brick-paved road that was wider and more packed with abandoned automobiles than the other side streets.

The main road had ponies galloping along it, trying to get to the same location as my squad was. They barked orders at one another as they kept galloping forward. I flew back towards Baker and the others, panting slightly.

“A 5-minute trot away in that direction you were pointing at. Ponies are there as well, trying to push towards the Hall.”

“Alright, very good.” He trotted beyond the ruined automobile we were huddled by. “Everypony, we’re moving out!”

The trek on the main street was… chaotic, at best.

Once we arrived at the street, the rapid gunfire that I kept hearing during my time in the city was becoming louder and more frequent. It also happened to be in the same direction we were trotting towards. From what I could gather, the assault on the City Hall had commenced without us. And it wasn’t going well, given the radio chatter that I heard from Buckeye’s pack.

There was also the aircraft harassing us. More than once, my squad was forced to sprint inside of an alleyway, or take refuge inside of a building. Each time a CAS plane swooped downward, they unleashed their bullets first. Then they dropped their payload if they had any left. Each time, I saw ponies barely able to avoid the onslaught from the air. Some ponies actually took off flying, trying to draw the attention of the planes to their way in hopes of distracting them.

Brave ponies, all of them. I couldn’t even kill a changeling without feeling petrified, let alone play chicken with a Stuka…

But that wasn’t what made the trip so chaotic. It definitely made it more perilous, but it was easier to avoid each time. We’ve adapted to their tactics and knew just how to avoid them. Even then though, sometimes it isn’t enough for some ponies to get out of the way. But there was something else that added an extra layer of Insanity to this battle.

When we finished ducking our heads down to avoid the Stuka, we continued our gallop across the street. We haven’t stopped running since we first arrived on the main streets. Hot coals were forming in my lungs as we ran nonstop.

We were about 15 minutes away from the Hall. My squad and I were following behind a growing crowd of ponies, rushing towards the objective we aimed to capture. The field hospital was behind us along the left side of the street, as we kept moving forward. Then we heard it. The sound of an engine.

At first, we all assumed it was another Stuka. But as we were just about to duck for cover, we noticed that there were no planes in the sky in the direction of the sound. Then, it made a ‘rumble’ noise so intense that it shook the ground and my body.

I didn’t just hear it. I felt it. And it was getting closer.

“Everypony get ready, it might be a Half-Track!” Baker yelled as we all split up into different directions. I was hiding behind an overturned wagon cart.

Half-Tracks from the Changeling Army had MG turrets installed on the front and rear end of the vehicle. The rule of fighting Half-Tracks - as it was so explicitly taught to me during basic training - was to not bunch up. If we spread out, we minimize the potential loss.

I knew it was a heavy-duty vehicle we were up against, but something felt… wrong. There was no way an engine that sounded and felt that heavy could be that of a Half-Track. I felt my bones vibrating and the ground trembling. Tiny pebbles were bouncing up and down on the ground near me.

The engine sound was coming from a small alleyway with a brick wall blocking off access. I could easily fly over, but why would I? With a vehicle on the other side, it was a dumb move to even consider getting across. The engine was getting louder.

Everypony had their weapons pointed towards the wall, waiting for it to break through and emerge on the other side at any second. The rumble of the engine kept getting closer and closer still, yet I could not see its shape.

Something in the back of my mind screamed at me to run. That this was a bad idea to hang around here any longer. I wasn’t sure whether to oblige, or to wait and see what happens. I held my breath as the engine got closer.

Then it stopped.

For a brief moment, there was quietness. Not total silence, but quiet enough for me to notice it. Everypony had their sights fixed on the small wall, aiming for whoever intends to run through. A few ponies slowly trotted towards the wall where the low rumble of an engine could be heard. It wasn’t moving. It was sitting there, waiting for something. The ponies began to hover over the wall slowly, to see what was happening.

Pa-BOOM!

The wall exploded. Literally exploded! I ducked down almost immediately in instinct when the explosion went off, with bits of broken brick and shrapnel flying over me and the wagon I was cowering behind. A wave of heat washed over me from the gap in the wall, and the air reeked of burnt sulfur. Sounds of screaming were heard from the wall, as several ponies were knocked backwards from the blast. I peeked over to find nothing but smoke and soot obscuring the remains of the wall. The engine sounded again, and with it emerged a shape. The cloud of dust and smoke parted, revealing…

... Not a Half-Track!

The shape that emerged on the other side was enormous and terrifying. It had a boxy chassis painted tan, with metallic plates covering the top-half of the treads on its sides. It also had a low cylinder-shaped turret with a long and thick barrel attached to the front of it, stretching out for about 12 feet. The tank rolled through the broken debris, and swiveled its turret to its right, aiming at me.

“RUN!!” I heard a mare’s voice cry out as my little legs ran as fast as they could away from the monstrosity. In hindsight, I should’ve just flew away from its reach, but I was panicking at that moment so the thought had never crossed my mind. I was terrified beyond any capacity of rational thought.

Brt-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at!

The coaxial MG located on the turret sounded off. I turned behind me to find several ponies being gunned down without a second thought. They were scrambling to get up off the ground after the blast knocked them back. They had no chance. Just like that, 5 ponies were killed.

I ran towards the end of the street where the others were at. I saw them take off and fly up to the roof. I followed after, landing on a roof crest where Baker, Syringe, and Boomer were. Spade was on the other side of the street, taking refuge inside a building.

“BOOMER, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!” I hear Baker yell loudly to my right, who I assumed was slightly deaf.

Boomer wasted no time to reply and instead got to work. I stared down and saw the hatch atop the turret open up, revealing a changeling in a special uniform peering up at us. He was shouting in their language and pointing at me whilst I readied my rifle to fire. Just as I could pull the trigger on him, he retreated back inside the hatch. The bullet ricocheted off of the armor.

The turret swiveled on its axis to the right of the chassis again, aiming at the building I saw Spade and the others take cover in.

Rat-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-at Pa-BOOM!

While firing its MG, the turret’s large cannon ignited as well, spewing fire and smoke from its barrel. A large yellow tracer was seen flying through the air, milliseconds before it collided with the building. Soon after, the front entrance seemed to have completely disintegrated. Dust and smoke billowed out of the windows and the doorway as the building degraded from the impact. It groaned in exertion, threatening to collapse on its foundation.

Boomer was to my left quickly working on cocking the Thunderbolt, which was difficult to do on a pitched roof. The Tiger turned its chassis towards the ruined condo where Spade was, while turning its turret to the left. The MG gun from the chassis was firing at Spade’s building, while the MG on the Main Turret was firing down at the street, suppressing a group of infantry that were unfortunate enough to still be caught outside. They were huddled behind several different automobiles and piles of debris.

The guns stopped firing, and the tank turned towards the street. It then backed up slowly. Its turret was twisting in our direction as it reversed along the street. Then it aimed up. At us.

I felt my eyes widen, while Baker screamed, “GO! GET OFF THE-”

Pa-BOOM!

My world erupted in blinding light, searing pain tearing through my everything. The sensory overload eradicated my perception of reality for a short while. I slightly regained my senses just in time to see me falling off of the roof, and landing inside another squared alleyway behind the building I was just on. I crashed and tumbled onto the ground, feeling the bones in my wings break and snap from the impact. Fiery tendrils of pain wracked my back. My hearing was filled with a sound that made it seem like I was underwater. There was also ringing.

In an instant, I passed out.

I awoke to find myself lying on paved concrete. Probably the same spot I crashed upon. I felt tears flowing freely down my cheeks as my body was in agonizing shock. It was very strange, almost like an out-of-body experience. I felt my limbs and my torso were hurt, but no pain came yet. It was just a tingling numbing sensation felt all over me. I also struggled to breathe, as the air was still knocked out of me.

After numerous coughing fits and gasping attempts to catch my breath, my body was then invaded with an excruciating pain that was so intense it fogged my sense of reality - to the point that I was seeing double vision on everything. My mind was racing as to what I just encountered, which I didn’t even remember at the time.

I looked to my right while I lay still on the ground, and saw Boomer’s corpse to my right not moving. His Thunderbolt was clattered on the ground next to him. His back was facing me, as I saw several deep gashes decorate his backside. Blood was pouring out profusely.

Baker was lying to my left, sprawled out on his back. He had several burn marks on his legs and torso, and some avulsions on his ribcage. I could see inside him as his entrails were outside of his wound. He was shaking violently and breathing quickly without rhythm. I felt my stomach painfully twist into knots, as I felt the sudden urge to throw up. Leaning over to my side was agonizingly painful, but I did it and released the contents of my stomach.

Laying on my side, I attempted to stand. My hooves felt completely numb, but I could feel the bones in them still intact. I was shaking heavily but was also standing. My head felt like a heavy blade was piercing through it repeatedly. I patted it softly, feeling so such injuries. I must have a migraine. It made my vision swim, with tears pouring out of my eyes. I felt myself scream out in pain, yet heard nothing but constant ringing. It was a very out-of-body experience, not being able to hear your voice like that. I felt a surge of panic shooting through my erratic heart.

Shaking, I took a step forward, then fell down again as I felt my back was on fire! I turned behind me, and saw my wings - if you could even call them that anymore. Each feathery tertial I had was bending in different directions, and all of them were wrong! I couldn’t help but feel a vine tighten its grip around my heart at the sight of my broken wings.

I attempted to stand back up again, except I couldn’t I was in way too much pain, and my body was completely devoid of energy. As tears flow freely through my exhausted eyes, I collapsed back down on the pavement again.

I noticed I had burns all over my flanks and my legs, with some large avulsions on my back - just below the wings. The wings themselves didn’t even look like wings. Each bone, every Tetrial, every Feather; they all looked wrong! I couldn’t even feel them.

The pain from my back felt agonizing enough, though. I collapsed my head along the ground. I saw nothing. At that moment, I wondered if this was where I would die. It sure felt certain to happen. I didn't even have the energy to be sad about it. I was just slowly dying on the inside, with no reaction.

That was when I heard hoofsteps somewhere nearby, running toward me. My shell shocked state deprived me of any cognitive function for the moment, so I couldn’t tell which direction it came from. I then felt as something was dragging me backward towards the building I was atop of, which made me scream out. Yet as I did, I couldn’t even hear my own voice. I looked above me to see the roof was on fire with a pitch-black smoke that billowed high to the sky, where we just were. I was laid against a wall, facing away it. I didn’t know who was dragging me, or why. Actually, I didn’t know anything for a brief moment, making me think I could have amnesia.

I then felt a pinprick jab against my lower back, followed by a numbing coolness that soothed the burning sensation from the large incisions on my back. Then I felt a hoof drag along my wings. Strangely and scarily enough, I could feel the pressure of their hooves, but couldn’t feel anything in my wings. Not even pain. Just a still, tingling. And that was not a good kind of numbness either.

There was another pinprick, as I felt cold lethargy envelope my torso. I was feeling tingly all over my hind legs all of the sudden, as well as my withers. Tears were still flowing freely, but the pain was not as agonizing as before. I still couldn’t feel my wings.

“Sunshine, are you alive?” I heard a mare’s voice speak to me, barely audible through the ringing noise. I gave a weak nod as I groaned and sobbed lightly. She started to grab my wings, then twist them slightly. I felt my bones being moved around, yet I still felt nothing. I gave a whimper, yet I still couldn’t hear myself.

Snap! Crack!

I felt THAT! An overwhelming sensation of fiery pain licked my back as I screamed again. She kept doing that multiple times, until my right wing felt like it was caught afire. Then she grabbed the left wing, and twisted it as well.

Snap! Pop!

More agonizing burns were felt, and more screams were heard. I twisted my body and tried to kick away. That only achieved more tendrils of agony coursing along my flanks and legs. I couldn’t move very well, and my vision was blurry. My hearing was returning to me, but that ringing was still apparent. I felt like a jackhammer was repeatedly piercing my skull.

I then felt some sort of cloth wrap around my wings as they were tucked back into my sides, locking them into place. I heard and felt my uniform being ripped open in some areas by someone biting and tearing them open, revealing more darkened splotchy spots on my coat hiding bruised skin. A white cloth was being wrapped around my torso. In some spots, the Bandages were tinted with a dark crimson pigment leaking through some of the small holes that littered it. Blood had been pouring out excessively.

Some kind of liquid was also poured along my flanks, hind legs, and back - cold to the touch while feeling it’s burning my skin off at the same time. I screamed aloud once more, able to hear me a little better this time. I then felt more bandages being wrapped around my flanks and hind legs, inflicting more tendrils of pain in my legs.

I don’t know why I did it, but I reached my hoof out toward the mare who was helping me. I felt her cheek brush against it as she continued to work. I turned my head to look, finding Syringe kneeling over me looking more determined than ever before. The grey coated with an even darker grey Mane was working furiously fast.

“Where else do you feel pain, Sunshine?” she asked me loudly, yet gently.

“E... E-everything hurts.” I grunted softly, still crying. I then saw Baker and Boomer still lying down on the ground, neither of them moving. I reached out a hoof toward Baker, weak and exhausted. Syringe pushed it away, pulling it closer to me.

“Save your energy. You’re barely alive as it is.” she soothed to me as she continued to wrap bandages around my body. She already used so much on my wings, and she was still using more. I felt like I was being turned into a mummy. Fitting, since I’m almost dead anyway.

“Th… them.” I muttered weakly while reaching out toward Boomer and Baker again.

“They’re dead. There’s nothing I can do.” she answered bitterly, planting my hoof down again.

I felt my heart sink further down at those words. Baker, while not particularly close to me, was the only one in our group who know what to say, and what to do. Without him, I felt… I don’t know. Lost, I guess? And Boomer... I just felt bad for him in general. He didn’t deserve this.

Nopony did.

“Can you walk?” I heard her ask me, barely audible as another cannon shot was heard from somewhere nearby. It sounded familiar. I then remembered that there was a Tank, before everything went foggy. The echo reverb could be heard through the walls of buildings I was laying next to.

I shook my head in response to her question, as I had failed to do walk a minute ago. “Then stay here. Keep applying pressure on those bandages, where the pain is. I’ll be back.” She assured me, then took off with her wings. For a split moment - in my shell shocked state - I had forgotten that she was a Pegasus and not an Earth Pony. It startled me when she took off, even though it was rather foolish to think such a thing.

I did as she told, and pressed down against my right flank. I felt something squishy and softer than my coat and skin underneath the bandages. I was scared as to what I would find, but curiosity got the better of me. I lifted the bandages.

My Cutie Mark… it was originally a sunrise over a morning cloud, spewing rays of light out in every direction. Now it looked marred, and burnt. There was skin ripped off of where the cloud should be. The splotch looked light crimson, with a dash of black and pink. My throat tightened to the diameter of a straw at the sight of my deformed mark. I choked another sob. I looked at the corpses of Boomer and Baker, and cried even more.

I spent 5 minutes sobbing and putting pressure on my burn wounds. They stung like how a dozen angry hornets would if they were to focus on one spot, but the morphine was making it bearable. More machine gun fire was heard from beyond the buildings, and the engine sounded once again. My hearing had returned to me, but a slight ringing was still audible. Large explosions were heard as the engine was becoming more and more distant. It was driving away.

Syringe returned as she floated down in front of me again, holding in her mouth the strap of another medical bag. “Haf thoo - ptoo - scavenge off the others.” she spoke as she spat it onto the ground. She poured the contents out, revealing a whole collection of medical-related items that I couldn’t make heads or tails of. She pulled out a potion with a paper stuck to the middle of it, a pink heart drawn on it. It had a vibrant green liquid inside of it. “Drink.” she ordered as she popped the cork.

I greedily consumed its contents. It tasted bland and flavorless, but not revolting as I had initially expected. I felt a strange warmth travel through my body as I felt my muscles, my bones, and my skin mend from the damage I had sustained. My head also felt cool and drowsy. I felt it in my wings too, but not as noticeable as throughout the rest of my body. Soon, the bones in my wings were mending as well. I breathed a slow sigh of relief. I felt better. Not in tip-top shape, but better than before.

I stared down at my cutie mark bandages again, and peeked it over. The marred skin looked somewhat mended, but I could tell that there was going to be a scar there a patch of rough skin with a mangled coat.

“Now can you try to walk?” Syringe asked benignly. She helped me to my hooves as I tried to stand up. I felt pain, but not intensely as before. The tears in my eyes were finally drying up. I gingerly a step forward. Then another. And another. Then I tried to trot at a quicker pace. I stumbled a little when I felt a jolt through my spinal cord, but still remained standing.

“Okay, you can move again at least. That’s good. Do you remember your name?” she asked me.

“S-Sunshine.” I replied.

“Good. And what’s mine?”

“Syringe.”

“Good.” she flew upward again, peeking over the fire on the roof where I was just at. Then flew back down. “The Tiger is gone. We need to find a place to rendezvous with other ponies and continue our mission.”

I blinked. “Our mission? Our squad nearly got wiped out, and you’re focused on the mission?!”

“No. Personally, I’d rather just go home. But we can’t do that now.” she turned away, looking at Baker. “Right now, we have nopony leading us through this hellhole we found ourselves in. And we can’t just go AWOL, so we have to improvise.”

My thoughts trailed back to the street with the Tram Car, how we merged remnants of Plums’ squad into ours. “Maybe we could do what Baker did earlier, and find a squad to fall in?”

“We could, yes. But that takes time. And we don’t have a lot of time. And I don’t know where we are gonna find a mostly vacant squad to fill in, when it’s just the two of us.”

Just the two of us. “Wait, what about Spade and the others? In that building that they ran into?”

“You don’t want to go in there. They were eviscerated by that 88 Mil. It’s just us two that’s left.”

As I thought the hole in my chest couldn’t get any deeper, I felt my heart sink even further down at those words. We were the last survivors of this squad. Goddesses. What can we do?

Syringe shook her head quickly, as if she was suppressing negative thoughts. She turned to look at me. “Look, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we have to keep going. Regroup with other ponies, explain our situation to them, and follow their lead. That’s the best I can come up with.”

I sat up on my haunches slumped against a wall, holding my rifle in between my hooves. The air was pervaded of sulfur, gunpowder, and burnt plywood. Gunfire and sirens were heard everywhere, as well as numerous explosions scattered around us. One of which sounded particularly close to the direction where the tank fled to.

“Unless you have a better idea. That’s all I got.” Syringe added on.

I sighed, feeling the effects of morphine taking hold of me. My hooves tingled. I felt unpleasant goosebumps racking my body. I stared up to the sky, lost in thought. The cloud layer remained flat and blank throughout the entire evening, without the ominous threat of rain. I couldn’t see the Hive towering upward, as it was beyond the building I was slumped against. Aircraft flew in all directions, and none of them were friendly.

I stood up on my hooves, slowly and painfully. I could walk at least, running and flying were far beyond my capabilities as of now. “No, that sounds like a solid plan. I just don’t know where to start.” I answered Syringe while eyeing Boomer’s body. Neither he nor Baker moved.

“I don’t either. ‘Till we can find one to help us, we just keep walking.” Syringe suggested as she stood up as well. We both walked over to the bodies that laid next to us and scavenged what we could off of them. I now had 2 smoke grenades, and 1 more fragmentation. I also picked up a couple of stripper clips of ammo for myself as well. I wasn’t running low on that anytime soon.

“We’ll take this door leading to the street. If we find that Tiger before we find anypony else, we hide and take cover. Let's hope that won’t happen, though.” Syringe took a door leading into one of the ruined condos. I followed.

We contemplated for a short while whether or not to follow down the path we were just headed before the Tiger showed up. There were still small groups of ponies galloping across the streets, stepping over the numerous bodies of other fallen soldiers as they made their way towards the City Hall. The groups of ponies I saw were becoming noticeably smaller. The casualties were starting to take a toll on us all.

It was decided that we would take a different and less populated route towards the City Hall. The gap in the brick alley wall where the Tiger shot through was a good start. When we crossed the street, I got a good view of Spade’s building. There was a fire that erupted in the first floor that was slowly spreading toward the second floor. Soon, the fire would burn down the whole building; and maybe more around it.

We trekked down that alley, and navigated our way through several ruined condos. (One of the Condos had the walls on the first floor completely gone. There was a gaping hole through the front entrance that led through the back. We learned that was where the Tiger came from originally.)

Rapid gunfire could be heard from beyond several different groups of buildings. The combat ensuing there was intense. Syringe wanted to fly ahead to see what the commotion was all about, but I persuaded her otherwise when I mentioned that we’re alone and that losing her would be bad for all around. We trudged along with exertion.

We were randomly walking through another ruined Condo that leads to another square mini-park out back that this city seemed to be abundant of. We then heard an explosion go off in front of us, It felt and sounded like a Grenade. Moments later, more gunfire was emitting from the mini-park outside.

The door crashed open, revealing three battle-worn ponies as they rushed inside to shield themselves from the gunfire. They took notice of our presence, and one of them aimed a rifle at us. “Signal?” he spoke through gritted teeth.

I was dumbfounded. In my mentally damaged state, the only thing I could say in response was “uh…” Thankfully, Syringe was competent enough to say something first.

“Nudum Colorum.” she answered in a different language, earning a slump on the shoulders from the rifle pony, as the other two were galloping upstairs to set up defensive positions.

“Why are there only two of you?” the rifle pony asked us.

“We’re the last survivors of our team. We were just ambushed by a Tiger not too long ago.” Syringe spoke for me. She gave me a look hinting about how I wasn’t able to answer clearly in time. My ears drooped.

The rifle pony shot us a look that seemed pitiful and apologetic. Then he shook his head, as he crouched below a window. “Changelings threw a grenade in the park, killing two of our guys. We dunno where they are, all we know is that they are somewhere around or in this park.”

“We’re looking for the City Hall. That was our Objective before we were ambushed.” Syringe spoke again. I decided to let Syringe do the talking. The Morphine’s numbing effect was still taking ahold of me. I was also mentally fried beyond any level of rational thinking. I could aim, shoot, reload, and not die, but that’s about it.

“Head NorthWest, I think the bearing is 311 from here. If you keep going that direction, you’ll find it eventually. Don’t take my word for it, though.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Our orders were to round up and secure any civilians we may find to a safe location. We got a small FOB set up just a 10-minute trot from here towards City Hall. So far, we found none. The whole city seems to be abandoned.”

“I see that bastard!” I heard another voice call out from above. “He’s accompanied by three others, heading towards the Park!” A rifle shot rang out. Soon, the whole building was firing on them. Gunfire surrounded my ears again, as the rifle pony in front of us dashed toward a vacant window.

“We need to leave, now.” Syringe suggested as she pulled my tail toward the door.

“We’re not helping?” I asked, ponies firing away upstairs.

“They aren’t heading to where we are, we have to keep moving and avoid confrontation until we merge. And we know that they have a FOB set up. If we are ever gonna merge, its gotta be there.”

I wanted to protest, to help out the others. But Syringe’s logic ultimately made sense. We had no strength in numbers as of now, and we weren’t fit to be in an engagement. The other ponies can run back to the FOB if they wish to disengage the Changelings. It wasn’t technically our problem.

“Okay, let’s go.” I spoke, and we were off again. I ran through the front entrance, back out into the street as gunfire was heard behind me.

Syringe pulled out her compass as we made it to the street, finding the bearing that pony was talking about. 311, I think he said it was. When Syringe acquired the direction - which was on the other side of a building corner across the street - she picked up the pace as I followed behind. More and more Pony Soldiers were seen traveling through the city from the West to the East. The NorthWestern seawall was now occupied under our control, as well as the SouthWestern harbor. I heard it as I trotted passed a lounging soldier, guarding one of the occupied strong points. Each critical intersection we crossed that was closer to Downtown seemed to be more and more populated by ponies. They each gave us a disguise check as we passed through each checkpoint.

Me and Syringe galloped for about 10 minutes in different streets, sidewalks, alleyways, and strong points as we got closer to the sounds of heavy combat. It was ensuing to where we were going, the condition of the buildings around us becoming more and more deteriorated. There were multiple Condos which I passed by that were completely flattened. Nothing but a large pile of rocks and rubble on where the first floor was.

We were trekking along with another discreet alleyway trotting next to the ruined building. Me and Syringe were crossing a corner of a large street leading off from the alleyway we were in when we stopped at the sight of a large group of Pony soldiers as we turned the corner. They were loitering around a series of sandbags and crude roadblocks to the left along the street. They were made with gathered up debris and leftover stone to form a barricade. Another one just like it were found to our right, facing the other direction of the street.

Small tents and trenches were found littering the middle of the street in no particular order, both of them filled with ponies walking fro and back in them. About 50, maybe 80 Ponies were standing here. A single 50Kg Bomb from a Stuka could wipe us all out. Why were they all just bunching up together like this?

One of the ponies took notice of us and shouted at us thinking we could be disguised Changelings. Syringe only managed to spare us by shouting the code phrase over and over, dissuading the rest from opening fire upon us.

Emerging from one of the tents was a gray coated pegasus in a uniform that looked too official to be a soldiers uniform. He had a dirty blonde mane and tail, with a cutie mark of what looked like a quill and a piece of paper. A single Bat-Wing was embroidered in blue on the shoulder pad of his uniform, surrounded by a circle of red stitches. He stopped and looked at us, scanning me and Syringe with careful and vigilant eyes. “What the hell happened to the rest of you guys?” He asked us bluntly, in a snarky tone.

“Dead. We’re the last survivors.” Syringe answered. The officer winced.

“So it’s just you two?”

“That’s what she said.” I replied.

“Okay. Two is better than nothing.” he contemplated aloud while stroking his chin. “Is she injured?” he pointed a hoof at me, acknowledging the bandages that enveloped my entire torso and part of my flanks. “She looks like hell.”

“Thanks.” I bitterly said.

“Not gravely. I gave her a rejuvenation potion.” Syringe answered afterward.

“She was blown up?”

“Sort of. Tiger ambush. 88’ nearly blew her to bits. Can’t say the same for the others, though.”

“Which division are you from?”

“Umm…” Syringe hesitated.

Luckily for her, I knew the answer. “Thestral, Second Pegasi Division, 17th Batallion, 21st H Company.” I answered abruptly.

“Huh... then I guess I'm your Company Commander.” he explained, as he pointed toward the patch on his uniform. “That’s good, that makes my job a hell of a lot easier. Who was your Sergeant?”

“Baker.”

He winced again. “Baker’s gone too? Damn. We’re losing a lot of good ponies for this city.” He muttered.

“What’s happening around here?” I asked as I took in the scene in front of me: Several ponies were laying atop of mats inside the tents, each of them covered in white bandages and red liquid. There were ponies with rifles aimed at the streets away from us, keeping an ever-vigilant eye out for any intruders. The trenches were crudely made, as they had to break apart through the street pavement before they started digging. There were no Earth Pony Sappers around to help us as well, meaning that the process took longer than normal. The sandbags and roadblocks covered the entire street, but left room on the sidewalks for ponies to trot around.

Overall, it was a grim sight.

“We’re planning our next assault on the City Hall.”

Syringe’s ears straightened up at him saying ‘City Hall’. “You’re going after City Hall?”

“That’s literally what I just said.” He replied wryly.

“This must be the FOB I heard ponies talk about, then. We’re trying to find a squad to merge with; Someone - anyone - to tell us what to do next. We’ve been wandering alone for about half an hour or so.”

The officer looked at me and Syringe skeptically. He turned to look toward the street to my left. “I got my hooves full at the moment, trying to conduct our next move. I can’t assign you to anyone yet. For now, though, you can stay and assume defensive positions.” He turned to walk back into the tent before he stopped and faced us again. “By the way, my name is Lieutenant Scribe. I’m the highest-ranking Commanding Officer in this shithole. Don’t bother me unless it’s something absolutely urgent.” he finished before trotting back inside.

Me and Syringe gazed around at the small camp in front of us, and we both trotted in one direction. I found myself sitting down on my haunches, with my rifle leaning along the sandbag wall I was sitting against. My back was resting against the sandbags, as I breathed a heavy sigh. Syringe sat next to me, staring at the ground. We both stayed there for a short while.

Several different ponies were up and about around us, trotting from one location to another - talking to other ponies while doing so. The ones that weren’t moving were busy aiming their rifles in one direction, standing guard. There were also the ones who laid inside the tents. I wondered how uncomfortable it must be to lay on a stone-paved road like that, even with a mat underneath. They must be wounded, it’s the only logical explanation to why anyone would be lying there.

“How are your wings?” Syringe asked quietly.

I gazed at them and tried to extend them. Sharp pain enveloped the exoskeleton, making me wince. “Still can’t fly.” I muttered. “But at lEast they look like wings again.”

“You’re welcome.” She replied. I turned to look toward her, finding her staring off into the distance. She didn’t move or speak, all she did was stare.

“You okay?” I asked feebly, leaning forward a little to get a better look at her face. She was still. She was breathing steadily and slowly, yet she looked as if she was about to have a panic attack.

“I…” she stopped herself, placing both of her hooves on the sides of her temples. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?” I asked. - Stupid! If she can’t stop thinking about it, why ask her about it?

“About what I saw, in that room. With Spade.” Now I could see her shudder. She took a shaky breath in and exhaled it quickly.

“Aren’t you used to it, though?” I asked, which prompted me to facehoof immediately afterward. - Stop making it worse, Fuck!

“Not used to what I saw in there. I’m just glad you didn’t see it.”

Me too - I thought to myself, finally keeping my big mouth shut. I caught her staring at my ruined uniform, revealing part of my coat - some of which were heavily bandaged. I looked as silly as a filly who horribly attempted to dress up as a mummy soldier pony during Nightmare Night.

“Your wounds still hurt?” she asked me empathetically, despite her deadpan tone of voice.

“Yeah, but I’ll manage. I can only ignore it for now.” I lied. The pain stung badly, but the last thing I wanted on my conscious was for her to care for me again after all she’s done for me. I can’t let her waste any more precious supplies on a single might-as-well-be-dead pony like me.

“I think we might find a squad to fill in here. It might not be official until Scribe gets the go-ahead from someone higher up, but it’ll work for now.” Syringe noted to herself aloud, mumbling while doing so. “Your wings should be fine in less than an hour, and you should be able to perform basic hovering soon.”

I didn’t bother to reply. My mind felt foggy and dazed, as I stared into space. I eyed the slim walls of the various Architectures that existed in these buildings around me. Plastered upon one of the blank and ruined walls of the Condos to my right was colorful paper. I glanced closer at it, and saw that it was a Propaganda Poster. It was a black and Tannish-Orange Filtered Poster, with a Silhouette of Queen Chrysalis’s head peeking over a small wall. Her whole face was darkened black, except for her eyes - which had green Cat-Eye Irises.

There were captions on the wall below her head. It read, in bold Letters:

SHE’S WATCHING YOU!

Wartime Propaganda was one of the many things that the Equestrian Governments did in an attempt to increase public support for the War Effort. It provided mixed results; during my time in limbo on board the ships in the Lunar Ocean - just days before tonight - I overheard a conversation among the other pegasi soldiers how the media censored many of the horrors of war, in an effort to “Maintain Harmony”. The only thing I remembered from that Conversation was how one of the soldiers sarcastically remarked how there’s no harmony left now.

Looking around me in this war torn city, with sirens playing in the background; Bombs being dropped all over the city; Gunfire heard from my surroundings; I sort of agreed with that Smartass Buck.

I kept gazing around me, and found another Propaganda Poster plastered upon a wall to my left. I looked below my peripheral, and found Syringe to be sitting in a slouched position, completely still except for her chest - which rose and fell up and down slowly. She appeared to be asleep. I found myself admiring how fast she passed out despite what happened around us.

I stood up and slowly walked over to the wall, wincing from each step I took on my right hind leg. As I got closer, I could make out the poster more clearly; Queen Chrysalis, again, is standing in front of a filing cabinet, with an evil look in her eyes. Her horn is illuminated, and in her Telekinetic Grasp is the Element of Magic - in its crown form. The captions read:

ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT

CHANGELING ESPIONAGE

----------------------------------
Report to the nearest Royal Guard if you think anypony is acting Suspicious!

Focusing on the mural, I began to wonder just how terrifying it would be if the Changelings did manage to get a hold on the Elements of Harmony. The results could be Catastrophic. 6 Elements of unparalleled power in the hooves of somepony who could use them for ill-intentions? The very thought of such a possibility terrified me.

Maybe that was the intention for these Propaganda Posters. To fear your enemy? Or maybe to hate them? But then, are Ponies capable of explicitly hating others like so? To completely discriminate an entire species?

Again, I found myself gazing at the scene around me, in this war-torn city. I struggled to think of a convincing answer.

It didn’t take long before me and Syringe were called to the tent where scribe was. As we both trotted through the tent flaps, I was greeted to the sight of Scribe and another pony wielding a staff in one hoof, looking at me with grim expressions. Scribe huddled around a table with various papers and small maps scattered about the table surface. I couldn’t interpret all of it, except for one particular map. It looked like a street map for the city of Vanhoover. Scribe looked up at me and Syringe from the table.

“Just a precautionary measure. Hold still, please.” Scribe ordered, as the pony with the staff took a step forward. He lowered the staff over our heads, as the crystal that was embedded at the tip of the staff began to glow and hum. It then changed from a dull grey, to a vibrant green. As it changed color, I noticed that Scribe’s shoulders sagged a little.

“Okay, they’re legit. We don’t have to worry about that anymore. Now, onto the second problem; what to do with you two.”

Scribe walked around me and Syringe slowly, methodically. He scanned us top to bottom, staring at us with a keen look in his eyes. When he trotted behind me, my tail instinctively lowered down making me feel flustered. An old habit I could never break out of. “Normally when I get stragglers like you, I would assign them to a squad to fall in, and move on. But we’re running low on medics as it is, and it’s actually useful that you two happened to just waltz in on us like that.”

“I’m not a medic.” I butted in before Scribe could continue. “I’m just a rifle-pony.”

“Anypony is useful as long as they can shoot and stand up straight.” Scribe replied.

“You said you were running low on medics. Do you need my assistance?” Syringe piped up as she stood upright.

“Nothing you can do any better then what we already have. I have several wounded ponies here who are not fit for combat, and I can’t just leave them here when the assault begins. So, for you two, I have a special task for you to complete.”

Me and Syringe listened closely, as Scribe continued to talk. “I have about 80-something ponies here in this little shitfest of a camp we made from scratch, and 10 of those ponies can’t even stand up straight without help - let alone fend off an attack. I need a certain amount of ponies to stay here and keep guard at all times, until I say so. You two are gonna be merging with one other squad and will stay here to defend this position. The rest of us will follow my lead during the push to City Hall.”

That didn’t sound like a special task to me...

“You two will file in with Brass Screws and her squad. She’s missing a medic anyway, so it’s perfect for her. Your task is to defend this position and await further orders. If we do manage to take the City Hall in our absence, we will let you know via loudspeakers.”

“Will we be able to hear it?” I asked over the constant noise of passing conversations that were going on outside of our tent.

“There are speakers all over the city. You should be able to pick up on it, if the time comes. Don’t count on it though. I’m not sure if this plan will succeed.”

“Shall I take a look at the wounded while I’m here?” Syringe inquired.

“If you can find out what’s wrong with them, and fix whatever is causing it, then be my guest. Several others have tried, and proved it to be for naught.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” she answered, still standing in the same spot.

“Alright then, you know what to do. I’ll let everyone know when the assault comes. Dismissed.”

I spent the next hour or so lounging around the small camp, moving from one sandbag wall to another. There were two directions that had access to the camp. Both of which were empty streets. To the sides of the streets, there was a single alleyway entrance where me and Syringe came from, and that was being heavily guarded to ensure our flanks were secured.

As I waited and waited, black columns of smoke were seen billowing upward above the skyline. There weren’t as many Stukas in the skies as there were before. Probably heading back to base for resupply, or something. Explosions were still heard from all over the city, though. And to add on to the encounter I had with the Tiger, I overheard a radio conversation from one of the ponies wearing a radio pack that there was a Stug III sighted in the city. The Changelings had Armour and Aircraft at their disposal, hundreds of miles away from the frontlines, on the one day we decided to come here.

A part of me felt like they knew we were coming. I found myself staring at the Propaganda Poster again.

SHE’S WATCHING YOU!

I shuddered and shook my head. Changeling Espionage. The possibility of them expecting us to come here to Vanhoover seemed more likely the more I thought about it. How there seemed to be no pony civilians left in this city when we attacked as if they were taken away; how the spotlights were already on and searching for us before we arrived in the air; how there was armored support for the Changelings chosen especially to combat us. The whole situation seemed so coincidental it was uncanny, and I still didn’t know everything about it.

I suddenly found myself yearning to know, to figure out and comprehend the problem in a foolish attempt to solve it. I found no such luck. I was stuck here, in this tiny camp, possibly waiting for me to die when I least expect it.

As I continued to wait, more and more ponies began to show up from different random directions. Each encounter was the same; A pony would call out to the others what the passcode was, to which they would either reply correctly or incorrectly. If correctly, they would take them in and access the situation in their perspective, and assign them new orders. If incorrectly, they shoot.

One encounter we had almost proved to be fatal, as a lone disguised changeling nearly got through our sandbag line. Before he could cross though, the pony with the staff trotted toward him. The crystal blinked and was tinted red before it even got close to him. It made a ‘beep beep’ sound when it changed colors, and all guns were aimed at the pony. The changeling realized the gig was up - shifting his disguise to its original form, and attempted to fly away. It didn’t even make it 5 feet without falling.

But other than that, things have been relatively quiet. And once again, I found myself lounging in the middle of a warzone. I was hunched up against a sandbag wall, sitting next to a Bronze coated Mare who mounted a Vickers MG, aiming ahead towards one of the streets. At the time, my mind was wandering. I was thinking about small, idle things to help pass the time; remembering Hayburgers, naps on a cloud, reading a book, things like that.

“Hey, you ever wonder why we haven’t found anypony else in these buildings?” the Mare with the Machine Gun inquired, as my thoughts were interrupted.

“Do wha’?” I replied as I turned to look at him, unsure if she was talking to me. Turns out she was, as her eyes locked onto me.

“I said ‘you ever wonder why we haven’t found anypony in these buildings’? I mean this place is a city, right? What happened to all of the other ponies?” she asked again. Her question repeated in my head over and over again for a little while. She had a point, though. The more I thought about it, the more strange it seemed. I also remembered seeing the small group of ponies huddling around a junk fire, when I was inside of one of the more broken Condos. I couldn’t remember which. I saw nopony else afterward. It did seem odd. It looked as if they had vanished out of thin air.

“I dunno.” I finally answered the Mare. “I saw a few of them earlier tonight, but that’s it. It does feel weird, though.”

“Right? It feels like a ghost town.” she agreed with me, as she returned her gaze back toward the street. She opened her mouth as if to speak again.

PKOW!

The Mare was then brutally interrupted when a tracer flew right by and shot the Mare below the neck. She tumbled backward and fell in heap, still wriggling in pain as he clutched her upper chest. Another tracer flew by, then several more. Sporadic gunfire was heard from the end of the street.

“Contact! Down the Street!” I heard a pony yell as loud as he could while I laid low. Rifle slung around my body and clambering upon the ground, I crawled my way toward the fallen Mare and away from the gunfire. She reached a hoof toward me. I located the bullet wound she had and placed her extended hoof along the hole. She was coughing and struggling to breathe, panic flooding her facial features.

I was by no means a medic. I only had a basic understanding of the medical procedure. Stop the bleeding, treat the wound, calm the patient. And I wasn’t sure if she was gonna even make it. But something screamed in my head to at least try! “You’re gonna be okay, just keep putting pressure on it.” I instructed her as she stared right at me.

I could see the fear in her eyes. Other ponies filed in to assist us by dragging her away from the MG, which was still mounted on the sandbag wall. “We got this, go! Shoot back!” they ordered me, as I got to work. I readied my gun and crawled my way back to the sandbag wall.

“Stay low, they’ve spotted us!” I heard Scribe yell. “Assume defensive positions and fight back!”

Everypony was either shooting back or ducking for cover. I saw Syringe gallop outside of the tent to find out what was going on, only to be nearly killed by a tracer flying just inches to the side of her face. She ducked down almost instantaneously. “What’s going on?” she yelled at me.

“We’re under attack! They know we’re here!” I yelled back. “There’s a Mare who’s wounded back there! Find her!” I yelled again toward Syringe. She gave a nod, as she crawled away from me. as I crawled around the corner of my sandbag, I aligned my rifle up along the street, I could see the infantry lining up all along the street, aiming their guns and firing at us. Some of them were huddling behind a pile of stone and debris near the sidewalk, others were standing in the open in the middle of the street. I took aim.

PKOW!

I fired a missed shot and cocked the bolt. I fired again at another one in the middle of the street. The shot connected to his rifle, which was knocked out of his grasp. He stumbled backward to retrieve it, only to receive another bullet to the chest. He fell with a heap and started to roll over side-to-side on the ground. He appeared to be in agony.

“We need MG support, now! Throw smoke on that street and start spraying!” I heard Scribe yell over the chaos. Ponies were yelling and calling out orders as they continued to shoot back. I saw one tan tinted stallion throw a smoke grenade in between us and the Changelings, as he rushed to operate the Machine Gun. He took a moment to scavenge the magazines for the MG that had fallen off of the fallen Bronze Mare while waiting for the smoke to settle in and disperse. Afterward, he started to spray away through the hazy cloud of white vapor. He fired in 5-shot bursts, wanting to conserve ammo.

“Squad, on me! Get inside and find a window!” A pony I didn’t recognize called out. He, along with several others, rushed forward along the sidewalk towards one of the In-Row houses that littered the area around us. They filed into the building one by one, as the smoke started to dissipate.

Gunfire erupted even louder once again when we could see Changelings charging forward from the smoke, en masse. “They’re advancing!” I heard a mare cry out, as the Changelings fired automatic weaponry at us. I ducked back behind the Sandbag and watched as some ponies were killed in the onslaught. My heart pounded violently in my chest again, as I struggled to determine my next action. I was caught in a crossfire between the two groups, and I couldn't move. I waited in hoof-pounding terror as the automatic gunfire was rapidly getting closer.

A stick-shaped object all of the sudden landed next to me. In less than a second, I realized that it was a grenade thrown at me! Out of pure instinct and compulsion, I dove toward the grenade, bit on the handle, and slung it out on the other side of the sandbags - all while tumbling back towards the camp.

BOOM!

The grenade detonated in mid-air above the sandbag wall. The unlucky pony operating the MG was turned into crimson paste and mist. Bits and chunks of his flesh were flying in the air all over. I was barely far enough to avoid the blast, but only because I couldn’t dodge the pony that absorbed it for me as his gore sprayed all over. I had Pony bits all over me! Shrapnel flew through the air, inflicting small incisions all over my tattered uniform. My bandages felt looser but were still wrapped around my body. I was crawling away from the now decimated sandbags, as I saw the Changelings charging forward. In any second, they will be over the wall, and more bloodshed will ensue.

It was at that moment that the buildings to my right were illuminated by gunfire, emitting from the windows. Flashes of light were seen, as tracers flew in with deadly accuracy. One by one, the Changelings were being picked off from their flank as they got closer. They eventually realized what was happening, and sounded the retreat. As they ran, more ponies were shooting at the fleeing bugs. Some even stopped to drop their weapons as they lay down on their belly, hooves behind their head; a telltale sign of surrender.

When all was said and done, there were three Changelings who surrendered to us, after the bloody firefight. “Clear! We got some POWs.” I heard a mare yell from behind. I slowly and shakily got up to my hooves, hot coals forming in my lungs as my muscles screamed in pain. I didn’t really feel it during the fight due to the adrenaline, but when it was concluded it slammed into me like a train. I found myself lying on the ground, groaning in exertion and in pain.

I saw the red paste and entrails that littered the area around the sandbags and on me as well. I attempted to hurl but it was too painful to completely release the contents in my stomach, leaving me half-hurling and half-crying.

“Sunshine, are you alright?” I heard Syringe call out as I continued to suffer. I felt hooves pat my back, my wings, my neck, my shoulders, and then my flanks. “Are you hit?”

I could only shake my head. I was too busy failing to throw-up to talk.

“File the POWs in a line near that sandbag there!” Scribe barked orders as I clutched my stomach. I looked up to see three Changelings slowly walk in single file, with two armed ponies on both ends of the line escorting them. They aligned them in a straight horizontal line facing towards the camp. They had looks of fear smitten on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” Syringe kept asking me. I waved a hoof at her, only to be interrupted by an agonizing hurl. The contents finally came out though, spilled all over the crimson concrete.

“Grenade. Got some cuts.” I panted as I finished losing my meal. Syringe then started to work on my body, wiping off certain areas that had excessive amounts of blood pooled up on me. I then saw her, with absolute disgust apparent on her face, throw away a single tube of eviscerated intestine off of me.

“Line them up!” A Stallion called out. A small group of rifle ponies took position in front of the POWs. Scribe trotted forward ahead of them, silently inspecting the Changelings. “Any of you speak New Changeling?” he asked the ponies behind him as he faced the POWs. Nopony spoke up as I saw a bunch of heads shaking in denial. I noticed Syringe meekly raised a hoof, but stopped herself as she quickly brought it back down. She continued to work on me afterward.

Scribe reeled onto the first Changeling. “Do any of you speak Ponish?” They remained stoic, and didn’t answer. “Well, do you?” he asked again, impatiently. Again, they remained silent.

Scribe then lunged a hoof at one of the Changelings in his face, which made them fall to the ground. He groaned, muttering something in its own language. Scribe punched him again, this time in the stomach. The changeling hurled on his stomach, and spewed out a vibrant green liquid.

“So you don’t speak Ponish, then.” Scribe noted, as he trotted over to the second Changeling. “What about you, huh?” Scribe trotted closer to his face, which I thought was a terrible idea. What happened to the last pony who got this close was him getting stabbed in the neck. I watched in grim silence.

“Do you speak Ponish?” Scribe asked, menacingly.

He didn’t reply. He earned the same response from Scribe as the first Changeling did. This time though, he struck with extra force. I actually heard something break over the cries of pain the Changeling made. The third Changeling actually looked more and more nervous as Scribe worked down the line.

“I’m done asking nicely. I know one of you fucks speak Ponish!” Scribe yelled as he pulled out a revolver from his flank sheath. With his magnetic horseshoes, he held the gun in one hoof, aimed directly at the first Changeling’s Head. “Either one of you speak up, or all of you are dead!” he ordered.

Nopony moved or spoke. If it weren’t for the everlasting ambiance of warfare erupting all around me, everything would’ve been dead silent at that remark. Not a single Changeling responded to Scribe’s threat.

BLAM!

A single shot rang out from the revolver, as the first Changeling went limp underneath Scribe. The third Changeling visibly flinched from the sound. I could only watch in pain and fearful bewilderment as Scribe pulled the hammer back to load another round. He then aimed at the second Changeling, who was still on the ground.

“First Strike. What about you?” Scribe asked again. The Changeling could only look up at him, as the barrel was planted on his head. He spat in Scribe’s face, sending droplets of green ooze splattered all over his features.

“Fuck you.” The Changeling muttered.

Scribe took a moment to stare at the Changeling, before striking him with a left uppercut to the stomach. “So you do speak Ponish then.” Scribe took the time to wipe the green liquid off of his face as he trotted backward. “Wanna tell me why you didn’t answer before? You could’ve saved your dead comrade here.”

“We’re dead anyway. What difference would it make?” The Changeling responded in between coughing fits.

“There’d be one more of you.”

“And there’d still be three dead Changelings lying in the Pavement when this is all said and done. It doesn’t matter.”

Scribe didn’t reply to that. “Do all of you know Ponish?”

He didn’t reply. He stared at the ground below him. Scribe gave a kick to his face, which forced the Changeling to fall over. “Lemme ask again slowly, so you can understand me you fucking numbnuts: Do. All. Of. You. Know. Ponish?” Scribe asked, slowly. Deliberately.

“N-No. Only Special Forces know.” He groaned as he got back up.

“And that’s what you are, apparently?”

“I was. I won’t be anything soon.”

“What about your other friend here?” Scribe casually waved the revolver toward the third Changeling, earning a slight flinch from him.

“He doesn’t know. He’s just a hatchling. Doesn’t know any better.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Ask him. I’m sure he’ll tell you, though you and he may not understand each other.” The bug replied wryly. His remark earned another kick from Scribe.

“City Hall. You know what, or where, it is?” Scribe inquired.

“Seen it. Know it. Don’t know what else you want from me.”

“How well-guarded is it?”

The bug gave a dry chuckle. “If this fight was any indicator on how that battle would turn out, I’d say there’s no hope for you. You’d be slaughtered.” a shiver traveled down my spine at those words. The changeling was smiling wickedly.

More and more beatings and questioning ensued. Eventually, we learned that there were numerous PAK 40s and MG42s garrisoned inside the City Hall, ready to decimate anyone who gets too close. They guarded the windows and the doorways and had numerous infantry inside covering every crook and cranny that was inside the building.

“Couldn’t we just blow the damn building up already? Why waste our precious Ponypower off of one building?” another pony asked Scribe, while the remaining Changeling POWs were still standing in the same spot they were before. Scribe turned to face the pony.

“We have no heavy support whatsoever. No Armour, no Naval Bombardment, no Airstrike, nothing. All we got is infantry. Even if I could round up all of the Engineers and rig explosives to blow the building to hell, it’d be a bigger waste of munitions and supplies. And we need that building intact and in our hooves, if we need any official declaration that the city is ours.” Scribe answered. “Now we know what to expect from them, at least. We need to rethink our strategy on this one.”

“What do we do about them, sir?” a Stallion asked, pointing his hoof at the POWs. Scribe looked at them with a begrudged expression. He then spoke, with an eerie absence of tone in his voice, “Kill them.”

My heart skipped a beat at those words. I watched as the Changelings stared at the Stallion raising his weapon. The second one simply closed his eyes, while the Stallion loaded his shot.

PKOW!

The third one kneeled on his legs and begged in his language. He was blubbering and stuttering words and letters that nopony understood. He stared at his dead comrades - on the street behind him, and next to him by the sandbags - and then looked up to see the rifle barrel pointing at his face. His eyes widened.

PKOW!

Both of them were slumped on the ground. Several ponies moved around to gather the bodies and dispose of them. How they would do that, I didn’t know. Quite frankly, I don’t think I wanted to know. Syringe was finishing up on re-wrapping my bandages with a fresh cloth since my old ones were tattered and caked with blood. She then gave me a shot of Morphine, and another afterward. She gave me something called “Epinephrine”, which should help with the drowsiness that the Morphine gives.

Syringe then sighed as she trotted up to the body of a Bronze Mare - the same one from earlier. She was slumped by the sidewalk, motionless.

“The Mare - is she-” I attempted to ask, only to be stopped at Syringe’s cold words.

“Dead, I’m afraid. Hit her in the windpipe. Internal blood seeped into her lungs and suffocated her.” she then averted her gaze toward the ground. “Nothing I could do.” she spoke blankly, seemingly untroubled by it

I sat hard on my haunches on a random spot in the blood-caked pavement. At that moment, I didn’t feel anything. With the amount of death and cruel violence I had witnessed tonight, I became wearier. Hollow, like a shell of my former self, I felt disconnected from the world around me. The ruined city offers no respite for me. Only death and misery.

I’ve never felt so lost, so helpless as I do now. No matter where I go and what I do, Ponies are dying all around me. And there isn’t a thing I can do about it. I can only watch and play along, Willingly trotting toward my own demise to join them if I’ve been deemed unlucky enough. I hugged my rifle closer to my body, my mind wandering back to Night Light. I imagined her in my embrace as I stroke the stock of the gun imagining it to be her mane. It didn’t help a lot. Barely any, actually. But I still did it. I kept trying to imagine myself in any other place except here. I felt tears well up the corners of my eyes.

“You okay?” Syringe asked me from the sandbag. Another tug around my heartstrings was felt. I felt hit Rock Bottom, yet I was physically capable expressing it. I keep feeling as if I wanted to burst into tears, yet I was incapable of doing so. My ears drooped.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” I lied. Syringe eyed me with a doubtful expression but shrugged. We both stared into random directions, neither of us speaking for a while.

“You have to be the luckiest Mare I think I know.” Syringe commented. Such a compliment was so random and out of place, I couldn’t help but stare at her with a newfound confusion.

“What?”

“I was just noting how lucky you are.”

“How so? I mean, how am I lucky?” I remedied.

“Okay, let’s review some facts: you were blown up with an 88 Mil’ in your face and survived. You were nearly blown apart by an explosion... twice,” she added as she stared at the crimson-coated sandbag wall. Shaking her head, she continued. “and survived. You also fell from a great height, breaking your wings on landing. You’ve been shot, burned, and beaten to hell, and yet you are still standing. You should be deader than dead right now.”

I didn’t reply immediately. I just looked down on my rifle as I held it closer to me.

“You helped. You stopped me from falling asleep among Death’s Bed.” I finally answered.

“Maybe, but you were right next to Baker, and that other pony when the tank fired-”

“Boomer.” I added.

“Yeah, him. Anyway, you were in the same spot as them. Within just feet apart of each other. You had just as big of a chance as they did to die. And yet, you survived.” My mind reeled back to Baker’s entrails spilling out of his body as he laid motionless on the ground. I felt my stomach twist in knots. Now I felt guilty that I survived.

“Your point? I’m the luckiest Mare you’ve met, so what? I don’t feel so lucky after what I’ve seen and been through.” I replied bitterly, trying to change the subject.

“Maybe not, but I still think you are.” I gave her a glare. “Alright look, the point is: you seem to be very resilient. And I envy that. That’s all.” she concluded, as she resumed staring out into space.

“... Thanks? Why does that matter though?” I inquired.

“It doesn’t. I just suck at small talk. I’m trying to keep my mind off of things.” Syringe answered earnestly. “And I suck at that too.”

I turned to look away, as several ponies were now picking up the dead Mare’s body and dragged her away to… somewhere. They disappeared into the triage tent that was next to the tent that Scribe occupied. I wondered what would happen to all of the dead that would remain after this battle is over. Would they bury them en masse? Burn them? Dump them in a random pit?

Another random Stallion trotted up beside Syringe and took aim with his rifle down at the street from behind the sandbag. Syringe scooched over closer toward me to make room for the Stallion. Neither one of us spoke, as we waited to see which disaster would find us next.

It didn’t take long after that firefight for Scribe to call me and Syringe into the tent again. We trotted in, finding several other officers gathering around the same table that Scribe was inspecting earlier. The passing conversations I heard around me from the officers were them coordinating battle plans with one another. The amount of information I heard all at once was somewhat staggering to me, difficult to even interpret what was being said all at once. I could only make out bits and pieces.

Scribe saw me and Syringe walk in for the second time. He raised a hoof, silencing all of the other conversations that were being relayed toward him. Another awkward silence filled the soundscape.

“You called us, sir?” Syringe asked diligently.

“I did. I have been thinking for a little while now, and I’ve come to a conclusion on what to do with you.”

Me and Syringe exchanged looks at each other, before turning our heads back to Syringe. “Didn’t you say we were staying with - who was it... Brass Screws?” I commented.

“I did. You’re still with Screw, but you’re not staying here. You’re joining the assault with everypony else on City Hall.”

The revelation sent a chill down my spine. I shivered in anticipation at Scribe’s words but kept a still expression. “Why the sudden change of heart, sir?”

“Not a change in heart, but a change in strategy. It turns out I greatly underestimated the enemy’s potential. Thanks to the information we’ve pried out of those Buggers, we now know that the enemy is toting more than we originally anticipated. If we were to have launched the assault as we originally planned, we would be decimated.”

Another officer behind Scribe trotted up toward us: A mare with a Rust colored Coat and dirty blonde mane. I couldn’t get a good view of her cutie mark, as her uniform hid it.

“We’ve been reviewing our plans with other Companies that are in the area around City Hall. We’ve devised a new plan of action for the final assault, and you will be joining in on it. Brass Screws here will be your Squad Leader. Follow her orders as if they were my own. Understand?” Scribe pointed a hoof at the Rusty Mare as he spoke that last word.

“Yessir.”

“Of course, sir.” me and Syringe spoke at once.

“Outstanding. I’ll call in a meeting with everypony here when we’re finished. For now, assume defensive positions.”

“Okay, change of plans!” Scribe called out as most of us huddled around him. “I’ve been relaying the new information we’ve acquired from our... Esteemed Guests, to the others.” He was talking about the Changeling POWs, I assumed. “We plan to assault the City Hall very soon, from different directions. Everypony gather ‘round.”

He, along with a few other Sergeants, pulled out a wide yet narrow map of the city of Vanhoover. It looked like the Road Atlas I’ve seen Baker inspect during our brief encounter with another squad, except it had a more detailed outline of the City Limits, and of Specific Buildings. There were also makeshift drawings on it made in unerasable marker. Scribe and the other officers began explaining the contents of the maps.

The map was cluttered. There were Green and Black lines drawn on it, colliding and contrasting with one another. The entire Western half of the city was behind a thick Green line, which contrasted deeply with the red line that enveloped the more ‘Urban’ areas of the city - places that were heavily populated and known for high Pedestrian activity back before it was occupied by the Changelings. There were these ‘sectors’ that were either contested or completely controlled. Each sector had a little circle with a dot in the middle of it that was crudely drawn in the correspondent color of the faction it belonged to; Black for Changeling, and Green for Equestria. Each of these circles was dubbed ‘Control Points’ as Scribe explained as he introduced us to the map.

There were also these stars that were drawn on the map as well, which Scribe explained it to be a sector of high importance or strategic value. These points had no particular name, but were instead drawn with a star of the corresponding color that point belonged to. They earned the nickname “Vital Points”. There were three of them: One of them was the Public Theater, a massive atrium with a stage where Grand Opera or Dramatic Plays would be hosted in. It was located in the Northernmost part of the city, near the suburbs.

The second one was right dab in the middle of the Downtown area, where the City Hall is located. That was where we were near. We were about 250 meters SouthEast of them, which was how they found us so easily. Scribe explained that we were to assault City Hall very shortly since they already found us. If it took one random group to find us, others will surely follow behind.

And the third one was a Naval Dockyard located to the South, in the industrial district. It laid in a heavy machinery-cluttered environment (such as Giant Cranes, Industrial-Purposed Vehicles, and Heavy Machinery.)

After Scribe and the other officers explained everything that was needed to know for the map, everything became quiet… as quiet as it can be in a warzone, that is. We all admired Scribe’s topography and drawing skills. Given his name, I assumed he might have been a scholar in his past occupation before the war. I wondered how a past Scholar could work there way up to an officer in less than three years. Then, Scribe cleared his throat.

“Okay: I know this is a lot to take in at once, so let me explain the situation. Right now, we have controlled the seaside of the city, meaning the harbors and dockyards are under our jurisdiction.” Scribe pulled out a blue marker as he continued, not missing a beat, “As of this moment, we control here, here, here, here, here, and here.” He circled the Naval Dockyard, the Theater, and several sectors in between the two. There was a line that bent erratically West and East as it stretched from North to South. The city was practically divided into two.

“The only thing we’re struggling on is the City Hall. We’ve already launched an assault on it hours ago, and it failed. They’re well dug in. But thanks to our Dear Friends, we know what they are toting a lot of their fighting power in there. We need to wipe them out to sustain a foothold.

“Right now, the only Companies that are aiming to capture this City Hall are us, the 14th Pegasi Commandos, and the 16th ‘Diamond Dog’ Company. We’re the 27th ‘Rock’ Company, in case you’ve forgotten.”

I wasn’t a part of his Company. I was 33rd ‘Wing’ Company. Not that it was important to note in the first place, and I don’t really think that matters as of now. I was following his orders. As far as I could tell, that was indication enough that I was under his command for his Company.

“Scouts came back to report on what the Situation looks like. The City Hall is heavily fortified. Bugs have sunk their teeth into it like a dog with a steak. A regular attack on the ground would be suicide. We can’t just throw Ponies into the meat grinder here, we have to plan this carefully and meticulously.”

“Well, what can we do? If we can’t blow it up, and if it’s difficult for us to take, then what option is left?” A mare commented from the crowd around me.

“We are conducting a three-pronged offensive in the City Hall. Two on land, and one in the air. The NCO of 16th Company and I have discussed via radio, and we have come up with a plan of action. However, the assault must be executed exactly as we have written it to be, at least until we get inside. If we have a chance of this working, we must all do our part word-for-word, and nothing less.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Syringe asked. Scribe took a deep breath.

“We - the 27th - are attacking from the sky. We are assaulting from the clouds, and are infiltrating from the maintenance stairwell connecting to the roof. The 16th will provide covering fire on the ground around the building - firing into the windows and throwing smoke to cover their advance.

“With the assistance of the 14th fighting on the rooftops around the Hall, they will cover our flight in. We wait for their signal, and we fly to the rooftop to fight our way indoors. Only some of us will land on the roof and storm the building. The rest of us will either find a place in the Hall roof to hunker down or will hover over the area and watch the perimeter.

“Brass, your squad will be the first to breach and clear. Ripe Melon’s squad will follow after. Then Midnight’s, Bale’s, and Carrots’. In that order.”

I gazed my eyes around the crowd I was standing in and found Brass Screws among them. Her face was stoic as she nodded.

“Once we get inside, we’re storming the interior with everything we have, creating a big enough distraction for the other companies to make a final assault on the Hall altogether. That being said though, this may be our last assault on this City Hall. if we fail this attack, we lose our grip on the strategic situation in the city. We lose more Ponypower, we lose combat Capability. We lose that, we’ll be pushed back into the sea - dead or otherwise.

“Ponies, I’m not gonna lie to you: this is going to be a bloodbath. Some of us aren’t gonna make it through this alive.”

The air became still. Nopony spoke. The atmosphere scented of dried gunpowder and caked copper. Everypony stared at Scribe with fearful anticipation.

“The 16th is tasked to provide automatic covering fire from all around the Hall for us to land on the roof. The 14th will be assaulting from the Pitched Rooftops of the Tenants around the Hall, laying down fire on the Hall windows once we’re inside. They’ll fly in with us when the time is right. Everypony will push from the outside to create chaos and confusion in the enemy lines. Scouts have reported that the enemy is occupying the windows and the rooftop to lay down as much suppressive fire as they can. We take the roof, we’re essentially behind their flank without them realizing it.

“Once we secure the rooftop, we move down inside and fire down on the bugs. We wait for reinforcements from the 16th and 14th to arrive shortly after, then clear the building out room to room, hall to hall, door to door. We’ll be the first ones inside the building, and maybe the last ones out. We provide enough chaos for the 16th and 14th, they’ll move in with us. And with enough discipline and fighting, the Hall should be ours.”

Scribe suddenly ceased talking. He had a grim, yet confident expression ridden on his features.

“Everypony,” he spoke uncharacteristically softly, “This may be the last time you walk these streets. And for tradition of that, I shall be the leading pony to guide you all. I shall fight alongside you, every step of the way until I either succeed or drop dead. That being said, I will not abandon you, and you shouldn’t abandon others. If you feel fear, feel pride instead. If you know you’re about to die, die with gratitude knowing that you fought for liberating your home.”

Everypony stared at him with hope. There was a sense of Companionship that I felt amongst all of these ponies, mixed with the uncanny fear of death. It was probably because of the fact that we’re Pegasi, knowing us to be Competitive yet also Honorable. I felt a resonance of that among these ponies, as they stare at Scribe with Admiration.

“The Assault will begin in 30 minutes we take off in 10 get yourselves ready, go go go!”

With those three last words, we all rushed outside the fence. I ran near an unoccupied Sandbag Wall, checking my bearings and gear. I had about 8 Stripper Clips, a single Frag, and some bandages. I was packing light, meaning I could stay mobile while flying. Some Pegasi make that sore mistake and attempted to dodge bullets while doing so. Most don’t survive. At least I got a better chance.

I was flapping my wings up and down, feeling sore and painful all of a sudden. It didn’t feel like so while they were tucked in.

“You okay?” Syringe asked from my right, which startled me. “Sorry, I just noticed you had a pained expression. Does it hurt?” she asked empathetically.

“I uh, I mean- well, yeah.” I stuttered.

She reached her snout into her bag, reaching into it and pulling out a small syringe - Ironically enough - and spoke with it in her mouth, “Hol’ Shtill. Thish ish D’onna Sthing.”

“Wha- Fhh ah!” I could barely speak before the needle was injected into a soft, but painful fleshy spot inches away from my right wing. A cool Numbness washed over the wings almost instantaneously. The injection stung badly enough to make me wince, but it was over in a heartbeat.

“There. Should feel better.”

“Ow. Thanks.” I muttered, feeling grateful yet also embarrassed she helped me this much already. She’s helped a lot of ponies around camp already, but she’s helped me more times than I can remember.

“You alright?” Syringe asked, almost whispering.

“Yeah, I feel somewhat better now. Thanks for that.”

“No, I mean-” Syringe started but stopped herself before she could finish. I gazed at her, confused as ever. Syringe sighed as her shoulders sagged. I noticed the bags under her eyes. “I meant Mentally. And Emotionally. Are you… alright in the head?” she asked with hesitation.

I opened my mouth as if to speak, but stopped. Thinking back to all of the traumatizing encounters I had in this city, I wasn’t sure if I ever would feel mentally stable. Emotionally, I was suffering in silence - though that was nothing new. I contemplated for a little while on what exactly to say.

In truth, I didn’t know. I was scarred for life, yes, but I also didn’t feel… Miserable? Abandoned? Deprived of Hope? Whatever, I didn’t feel any of that. I just felt Hollow. Speaking Honestly, I felt a strange stillness in my heart and in my head. Pain as well.

For the second time that night, I wasn’t sure how I felt.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” I answered, technically not a lie. I was unsure how to answer her question when I didn’t even know the answer myself. Syringe gave me a doubtful look, and shrugged.

“Just… be careful. I already used so much of my supplies, it’d be classified as ‘Excessive Use’ if I helped you again.” Syringe noted.

I gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I bet I’d be fooled for a mummy if it were Nightmare Night.” Syringe gave a short laugh as well. Then we both stopped in Awkward and Melancholic silence. I looked around me, staring at the black columns of smoke billowing from the city to the sky. The searchlights have ceased long ago, now that everypony landed. Gunfire was heard everywhere, as well as more large and small explosions that popped all around us.

“Sweet Celestia... Here we are in the middle of a battlefield as ponies are dying all around me, and I’m laughing. There must be something wrong with me.” I muttered.

“Don’t think about it like that. You’ll kill yourself with regret later on.” Syringe whinnyed. “It’s best to move on from your troubles, rather than dwell in it. And everyone deals with their problems in different ways. Yours isn’t bad. It’s healthy.”

Her words surprised me. I didn’t expect this much philosophical knowledge from a Battle Medic… then again, this has certainly been a night of Firsts.

“Thanks, I…” I paused, assessing what to say. “I appreciate the advice.” I finished. Syringe nodded, as she turned to walk away.

“Also,” Syringe turned around and called out to me. “When we get to the Hall, try not to get blown up anymore tonight.”

“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.” I heard a Stallion call out behind me, as they traded lighters and Cigarettes with one another.

I sat idly on my haunches, atop a piece of cloud, high above the city. My rifle was slung across my body, resting along my chest. I stared down through a tiny crack of the Overcast layer, feeling a slight sense of vertigo. If for some reason I were a Unicorn or Earth Pony and I found myself atop this cloud, I would’ve had a panic attack. I then turned my gaze upward, toward the sky.

We were high enough in the air that we penetrated the overcast cloud layer. The void of Night could be seen in the sky everywhere I looked. The moon was full and radiant, shining with vibrant pale light. The stars dotted the atmosphere around it, twinkling and shining.

It was funny, really. I had a lot of views like this before, and I’ve always taken them for granted. Before the war, this kind of view would’ve gotten old and tiring after a few minutes. Now though, I began to appreciate how beautiful the night sky actually was. I could stare up there forever if I wished. I couldn’t, but Celestia be damned if I didn’t want to.

I turned to look behind me. A hundred or so Ponies were milling about along the cloud, not sure what to do. We flew up here about 5 minutes ago, and are now just waiting for the signal to attack. Ponies were talking with one another, talking about their lives and the past, about happier times. They knew it could be their last conversation. They were milking all the time they can get, as they interacted with one another.

One of them offered a hit of a Cigar to me, to which I declined. The Stallion insisted, to which I relented and gave a hit. I must’ve done it wrong, because I found myself coughing and hacking ill-tasted vapor from my lungs. How do people enjoy these things? When he offered it again, I refused.

Syringe wasn’t seen among the large crowd. She was there, somewhere. Just out of sight. I stared down at the city again. The hall wasn’t in sight, and what I could see wasn’t plentiful. There was only a small space I could peek through, so there wasn’t much to see. Just ruined buildings and streets.

As I sat alone, Ponies talked of their loved ones and families. They’ve been away from their friends and families since the beginning of the war. I didn’t participate in those conversations. As much as I missed Sunshine, I wasn’t keen for mentally focusing on her in the middle of a warzone. I couldn’t - not even for a second - afford to think about her. One second is all it takes. One second, and it’s all over. One second, and you’re dead.

I gazed at a tan-coated Stallion as he proceeded to pull something from his shirt. A small chain, with a tiny little ornament at the end of it. It was Celestia’s Sun, gilded in gold while the chain was silver. The stallion closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then he kissed the sun. A prayer to Celestia, I assumed. He stowed the Sun Necklace away in his uniform and pulled out something else from his pockets. Another Necklace. Except this one was for the Moon. A Totem for the Princesses. One of Sun, one of Moon. He did the same to the Moon; gave a prayer, and kissed it.

I looked around a little more, and found Scribe among them interacting with another pony I didn’t recognize. The pony had a radio backpack on them. I guessed that Scribe was communicating with the other companies. He stowed the telephone away and yelled out loud.

“Everypony, we got a few minutes before the signal is given. Prepare for Flight!” Scribe called out as he milled about, inspecting his forces. There were some of us who were shaken, exhausted, wounded, or worse. I wondered why Scribe was even willing to send wounded ponies out to fight if they weren’t fit to fight in the first place. The desperation of this assault must be setting in on Scribe’s Psyche. If he’s this desperate to capture a single building by hurling ponies into the fray, the situation must be worse than I thought.

“Squad, Roll Call!” I heard a Mare’s voice call out. I turned around to find Brass Screws being huddled by a small group of ponies - about 6 or so. I heard her calling out names, prompting me to file into her little group.

I barely knew these ponies - only their names, really. But I knew what they were supposed to do.

“Private Storm Cloud!” she called the first name.

“Present.” a Charcoal-coated Stallion replied; He was the new LAT - Light Anti-Tank. He carried another Thunderbolt similar to what Boomer had.

“Private Sunshine Tempest!”

I speed walked over to the huddle as she called my name.

“Right here!” I answered back. She kept going.

“Corporal Morning Dew!”

“I’m alive.” a Timber colored Mare replied, her voice foppish and high pitch; she was the Radio Pony, armed with a different looking weapon compared to the rest of us. The Barrel was stubby and short, with the magazine fed through the side of the chamber instead of the bottom. I knew at first glance that it was an automatic weapon, much like the MP40s that the Changelings have.

“Private Rain Drop.”

“Present.” a Teal-coated Stallion, sounding grizzled and somewhat disgruntled; he was the Machine Gunner, as he carried a gun with a drum-fed magazine attached at the top of the gun.

“Corporal Syringe.”

“I’m here.” she called out from my right, next to Morning Dew. I already knew she was the medic.

“Corporal Pumpkin Patch!”

“Here.” yet another Stallion, this one with an orange Coat; he was a standard issue rifle pony, but from what I could gather he was a skilled shot. Abnormally skilled.

“And Corporal Dominoes!”

“Ready.” another Peach Mare; she was the Demolitions/Engineer expert. She could make things explode a little bigger than normal if she wished.

“Okay… that’s everypony accounted for.” She mouthed to herself the names she just called out while counting all of us. When she finished, she opened her mouth to speak, “You are all under my jurisdiction from here on out. You will follow my orders as if the princesses themselves decreed it. And you will do as I say one-thousand percent. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am!” we all replied, somewhat simultaneously.

“Fix Bayonets!” Scribe announced loudly.

Everypony took the time to attach a small blade upon the barrel of our weapons. Ponies with any automatic weaponry, however, will have to make do without one. Some weapons were unfit for bayonets. Mine was, at least. I fixed the ring near the base of the blade along the tip of my weapon and secured it in place. After a few practice thrusts with the weapon, I was already used to the new weight of the weapon.

I then found myself trotting over to Syringe, whom of which was talking to another battle medic. I overheard a part of their conversation, talking about… something. I could only make out bits and pieces. Something about logistics, and propaganda. I didn’t understand the context.

Syringe noticed me approaching and quickly began to wrap up her conversation. The medic bid her goodbye, as Syringe turned to face me.

“You need something?” Syringe asked with indignation, which somewhat took me back considering her usual hospitable tone for me.

“No, I’m fine. Why are you so sour?”

“Sigh, sorry. I just…” She didn’t finish. She found herself staring down at the cloud she was standing on. “I’m just working through some things right now. Trying to stay focused.”

“I-it’s fine, really. It’s okay. Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I’m just not in the mood for small talk.”

“Why? What happened.”

“Nothing. Nothing happened.” Syringe dismissed, as she turned to walk off in another direction.

“Syringe.” I called out, reaching a hoof toward her. She didn’t turn back. I slowly placed my hoof back down, sighing.

I couldn’t help but wonder why Syringe acting reclusive suddenly. It was as if she just discovered a negative revelation, and is unwilling to share with anypony… maybe that was the case, maybe it’s not. I didn’t know either way, which helped me none.

I was sitting beside Storm Cloud - the Radio Pony for Brass Screws - when I heard it. I heard the transmission from his pack clear as day. I also heard it from another pony who also had a pack like Morning's. The Transmission was broadcasted on multiple frequencies.

“Attention, this is Lieutenant Stitches from the 14th calling to all Companies. We’re Green to go! Repeat: we’re Green to go!” a gruff Stallion’s voice announced through the transmission.

“Okay, everypony gear up! We’re about to drop!” Brass Screws announced aloud, as ponies around us sprung up into action. They ceased whatever it was they were doing before and began to gear up.

I could hear Scribe from afar barking orders at other ponies, saying that the signal was given. Chaos was now apparent all over the cloud layer, as Ponies rushed to their assigned squads. Syringe, Storm Cloud, Morning Dew, Pumpkin Patch, Rain Drops, Dominoes, and I were huddled around Brass Screws as she did another Roll Call. When we were all accounted for, she then went over the plan of action once more.

We were to drop on to the roof and work our way inside through the maintenance staircase. Once we’re inside, we were to clear the upper levels first and find the Mayor’s Office. The other Companies will be tasked in clearing the lower levels by penetrating through the Colonnade on the front entrance.

The office for the Mayor should be located on the third floor. Brass Screws repeatedly emphasized that it is our top priority. We get to there, we can access the loudspeakers. We access the loudspeakers, we can implore the Changelings to surrender. But most importantly, it gives us breathing room if we capture this building. Room to keep fighting.

“Are we all caught up?” Brass finally asked as she finished briefing us in. We all nodded our heads. “Alright then. Follow my lead, shoot straight, use your head, and we can win this. Get ready to fly.”

“Everypony, we got one minute before we drop down. Assume positions!” Scribe announced loudly, for all of us to hear. Everypony was milling about, doing whatever it is they do before they’re sent to battle. Some of them joke around with one another, others send prayers to the Princesses.

Me? I thought of Night Light one more time. It might be my last. It helped, somehow. It hurts to think about her when she’s gone, yet it also fuels something in me. Some kind of stubborn determination that pushes me to see this thing through to the end. I felt scared of what was to come next. Scared that I will end up just as another name on a very long list.

But I was not going to let that happen.

“Thirty seconds - Once we get inside, refrain from using radios unless you are certain the area is clear!” Scribe announced to all who could hear.

I grabbed my rifle in my hooves and checked the Chamber. It was still loaded and primed to fire. The Bayonet was fixed to the gun nice and snug and didn’t feel loose. Everything was accounted for.

I then felt something touch my back. Looking behind me, it was Syringe. “I mean it: Don’t get blown up anymore. Please.” she spoke blankly, yet said ‘please’ with a more softer tone.

“I’ll try not to... For your sake.” I remarked, which earned a single “hah” from Syringe as she trotted near Brass.

“Ten seconds!”

“Everypony, this is it! May Luna’s Night have mercy on our souls.” Brass Screws encouraged us as she unfurled her wings. Everyone else did the same. I stared down at the break in the clouds in front of us, the City Hall finally in view. The roof was flat, save for a ridge that elevated as two angled slopes on each side the roof was divided into two flat sections, with the ridge in the middle. There was a relatively small box atop of the roof as well. Tracers were flying in and out of the building. The fight had already begun.

Suddenly a loud, high-pitched Whistle sounded as Scribe shouted at the top of his lungs, “GO, DIVE DIVE DIVE!” as hundreds of pegasi dropped from the clouds and dove into the Hellfire. I followed closely behind Brass and the rest of the squad, as I could see the world around me getting closer and closer. I saw the chaos of the firefight around City Hall, as hundreds of Ponies and Changelings alike were exchanging shots with one another. My slung rifle flew and battered against my body as I increased speed in my descent. When we were closer to the ground, the Pegasi around me leveled out and straightened their wings. They were now hovering slowly downward, quickly using their hooves to hold their rifles.

I hovered in place about 30 meters above the roof of the large political building. Dozens of Changelings were milling about on the roof, firing down on the ponies below them. I looked around and saw pastel colored bodies on the roofs around them, not opening fire yet. I wondered - for a split second - why they weren’t firing. Just as the thought had crossed my mind, muzzle flashes were seen lighting up the dark crevices of the Gabled roofs where they were bunched up. More tracers were seen striking the bugs on the roof with deadly precision. Soon, only a handful remained as they hugged the roof with their body. The only cover they had was a half-wall that barely covered the top of their back.

“Open fire on them!” I heard a pony in the air near me call out. Soon, gunfire erupted in the sky above the Changelings. Not one of them looked up. They were all mown down by a neverending barrage of bullets. I didn't even need to aim my rifle at them. They were already dead.

I then watched as Brass and the others were landing on the roof near the corpses. I soon joined them, landing beside Storm Cloud. Brass Screws quietly counted to herself, pointing a hoof at each of us as she counted. When she was finished, she counted again.

I peered over the front side of the building. Ponies were huddling still-burning wrecks of vehicles and piles of rubble while exchanging fire from the Changelings inside the building I was standing in. the height of the building I stood on was about 20 to 30 meters. I then turned my gaze to the other condos and buildings around us. The rooftops were swarmed with ponies. One of them waved at me. I waved back. They were all opening fire in the entrances and windows all around the Hall, preventing any kind of escape.

“Okay, everypony’s accounted for. On me - single file line - and don’t fucking bunch up!” Brass announced as she made her way over to the same box-like structure on the roof I observed earlier. It was the entrance toward the Maintenance staircase. “Sunshine, you’re lead pony! Open this door!”

“On it!” I replied as I rushed over. I hugged the frame of the door, planting an ear against it to see if I could pick up on anything beyond it. A useless gesture, since gunfire was all I could hear anyway. When nothing else happened, I placed a hoof on the handle and twisted it. It creaked open, revealing a dimly lit U-shaped staircase leading downward. I trotted through with my rifle in hoof, slowly and methodically. I aimed down toward the nook beside the staircase leading downward. As I trotted in, others followed behind. Nopony spoke any words.

Gunfire was becoming muffled through the walls, yet I also heard something else. An explosion, but not like a spontaneous explosion. It sounded more concentrated, thrown at something - or someone - specifically. I could make out the general location as to where it was coming from but had no way of interpreting where specifically.

When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I found another door. I hugged the frame, rifle ready as Brass raised a hoof in the air - bidding the others to stop. She pointed at Pumpkin Patch, then at the door. He made his way over with his rifle, nodding at me to open it. The others had their weapons fixed toward the door, standing on the staircase.

I slowly opened it, waiting for a reaction on the other side. When none came, I pushed it open further with my hoof and breached inside. Aiming my rifle to the left side, I came across a hallway.

To my surprise, the hall was completely empty.

The walls were of striped wallpaper, with multiple frames of murals and portraits hanging along the hall. The carpet was patterned and polyester, with multiple stained spots littering the once fine looking floor. Multiple doorways were seen stretching along the hall all the way toward the dead end - which stopped at a single double-hung window leading outside.

The hall’s decor might’ve been sophisticatedly stylish at a time. Now though, the scars of battle haunted the halls forever. There were ugly stains and spots that littered the walls and floors, as well as spent bullet casings that clung loudly when I stepped on them. Pieces of trash and litter cluttered the space in between the walls as well, giving it a very dirty feel.

Pumpkin followed me shortly after, aiming toward the right side. Both sides were relatively the same, save for the right side ending at a 4-way intersection of walkways instead of a window. The walkway would either split into continuing forward until it stopped at another window, while also diverting to the left and right. More doorways were also cluttering the walls along the hallways.

Where the hell was the Changelings? From the amount of gunfire I heard outside, I expected to find fierce resistance on all levels of the building. This level seemed entirely vacant.

“Clear!” Pumpkin whispered back toward the doorway. The rest of the squad filed in toward the hall, aiming in several different directions as they took up defensive positions around me. Each little crevice, corner, and doorway had a rifle barrel aimed toward it. Mine was aimed toward the intersection in the hall. When all of us were in the room, Brass whispered aloud, “Pumpkin, go back up to gather Melon’s squad and order them to breach.”

“Roger.” Pumpkin replied as he made his way back up the stairs.

“Keep your eyes peeled. When the others get here, we’ll advance toward the intersection in the hall.” Brass ordered. Her tone was hushed and quiet.

For about a minute, we waited in tense silence. Nothing came or started shooting at us, giving me the idea that the Bugs were unaware of our presence. From the sounds of warfare that I heard around me, the fighting was still taking place upon the first and second floor. We should be on the third floor.

I finally heard hoofsteps rushing toward us from the staircase, as Pumpkin returned with more ponies following behind. When everypony else was now in the room, Brass searched for somepony amongst the newer group. She found whoever she was looking for and spoke aloud, as I watched her.

“Melon, we’re heading Northwest to clear the other side of that intersection. Your squad will clear this side, from that dead-end to that walkway. When we’re done on both halls, we rendezvous back at the intersection and clear the other two walkways in the same way. Understand?” she inquired as she pointed a hoof from one end of the hall to the other.

“Understood. Mangos, you’re lead pony!” Melon ordered as her team got to work on moving from door to door, clearing each and every room as they made their way down the hall.

“Okay, my squad; move up carefully until we reach that window. Clear every door on the way.”

We all moved together in a loosely packed formation, with three of us on each end of the hall; making our way through one room at a time. I helped out Rain Drop and Pumpkin Patch clear the right side of the walkway; Syringe and Brass stayed in the middle of the hall guarding our blind spot as Dew helped Storm Cloud and Dominoes cleared the left side.

We made our way through each room with silent progression. There was no Pony or Changeling in each room we covered so far. All we found were vacant office rooms, with overturned desks and paper all over the floor. It was a mess. The whole Hall seemed to be deteriorated this way. When Rain Drop was still busy inspecting behind the desks, I randomly picked up a piece of paper with my mouth and placed it against the wall with my hoof, reading it silently.

It revealed nothing of interest, except for a small article of a logistics report from the Southwestern Harbor. It was dated back to October of 1010, just a few months before the war began. It talked about how oil and fuel shipments were of “inadequate quantity”, stating that some of the Cargo Ships designated for delivery never arrived. No traces of them were found as if they had just disappeared at sea. I tossed the paper aside and gazed at the carpet. There were literally hundreds of papers just like this one littered in this office alone. I was suddenly thankful that I wasn’t a politician before this started.

We continued back toward the hall and made it to the intersection until we stopped. Pumpkin and I were tasked by Brass to peek the corner of each walkway that split off from the long and narrow hall we occupied. I breached the right, and Pumpkin breached the left. On my end, there was another staircase. It leads further down to the lower levels of the Hall. Gunfire was still heard around me, muffled through the walls and floors. But it seemed to echo strongly through that staircase. The enemy is definitely down there, still unaware of our existence.

“Staircase. Leads further down.” I whispered back to Brass Screws. She nodded, then pointed a hoof at Pumpkin.

“Anything else over there?” she asked Pumpkin.

“Negative. Looks clear. I see a large door at the end though. Looks important. Might be the Mayor’s office.”

“Alright, keep sweeping but be careful. One of these rooms could still be occupied.” Brass ordered as we kept moving. I turned behind me to find Melon and her squad nearing the end of her side of the hall. Facing forward again, I trotted my way across the intersection and continued to clear out each room. Each of these rooms was just as bland and empty as the rest, filled with useless papers, cluttered with ruined and misplaced furniture.

This continued for several minutes until we reached the end of our hall by the double hung window. When we made it to the window, there were no doors that led into offices. Instead, they led to the restrooms. One for Stallions, one for Mares. I inadvertently breached the Stallion’s restroom, utterly revolted by the pungent stench of ammonia that pervaded the air. I didn’t bother clearing the rest of the room; no sane creature would spend more than a minute in that room, not even a Changeling… Wait, do Changelings even have noses? I wasn't sure about that, actually. I assumed they did.

“Okay, we’re done. Let’s head back to Melon.” Brass ordered as we trotted back toward the other end of the building. I saw Melon’s crew still working their way down the hall, but they appeared to be almost finished with their task.

“Rain Drop, cover the staircase leading to the second floor. Dew and Sunshine, clear that hall behind Rain Drop. the rest of you, take defensive positions and wait for Melon to arrive.

“Alright, let's go.” Dew ushered me as we trotted along the hall, alert and suspicious of the lack of difficulty we had in clearing this building so far. I worked my way down the left side of the hall, Dew taking the right side. We would take turns opening the door, the pony across from us would cover the door as one of us opened it. if I were to open it, then Dew would cover me from across. And Vice Versa.

We kept doing that for about 5 minutes until we reached the pair of Grand and Regal looking doors. There was not a doubt in my mind. This had to be the Mayor’s Office. My nose wrinkled at the sudden stench of Iron and Copper, followed by spoiled eggs. My eyes watered slightly from the stench, and it seemed to be coming from beyond this door. Dew readied her SMG toward the door, before giving a nod to me. I pushed the door open gingerly with my hoof, and aimed my rifle inside.

… Before that moment, I had made the mistake into believing that I had seen what death looked like. I did, technically, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what laid beyond that door.

It was at that moment that I stepped out of Vanhoover, and landed straight into hell.

The room was painted with palm-tree Green, but was crudely tinted with patches of Crimson and Black. There were pastel colored pony corpses littering this room, some of them wearing an Equestrian Military Uniform. The ones that didn’t look even more decayed and rotten than the rest.

Some had detached limbs, others were decapitated. There was a pool of blood forming under the increasingly large pile of bodies along the right-back corner of the office, right next to the large Casement window that overlooked the front entrance outside.

The Mayor’s desk was still placed in the middle of the room, facing toward the double doors with the window behind it. The desk itself also had another corpse of a pony on it, who was missing all of its limbs and its head. I couldn’t even tell what Gender the pony might’ve been. Each of these ponies was seemingly flayed and tortured until death.

But the worst part of all of it? The smell. When I first opened the doors, the stench invaded my nostrils first before I could even interpret what was happened in the room with my eyes. Tears welling up in my sockets, I retreated back into the hall. I lost the more contents of my past meals shortly after my stomach twisted in knots.

“Sweet Celestia…” Dew muttered as he backpedaled away from the doors. “There’s… They’re… Fucking hell...”

After I finished vomiting, I wiped my snout with a hoof and stared at the floor - not wanting to look back. The stench escaped the room and was now flooding the hallways with its repulsive smell. The carpets would be stained forever, but they were ruined already.

Brass and Melon’s Squad were standing in the intersection exchanging orders with one another. I overheard Melon saying that this floor was already cleared and that we should send the rest of the squads to garrison the level. Brass was inclined to agree until he gazed at both me and Dew. Both of us were still recoiling from the gruesome sight we had just witnessed.

Brass ordered the rest of our squad to stay put and trotted toward us. “Is it clear?”

“We, uh… we found the Mayor’s Office.” Dew answered.

“Excellent. Is it clear, though?”

“Clear of hostiles, yes. Clear of Corpses? No. Not even close.”

“Corpses?” Brass muttered as she trotted closer. I raised a hoof in protest, only to be interrupted by another hurl from my stomach. At this rate, I might die of starvation by the time this night was over. Brass then saw the piles of bodies and the pool of blood. She backpedaled away quickly at the sight, placing a hoof over her snout. She appeared to be utterly disgusted. Who wouldn’t, staring at a pile of bodies?

“Oh god, that smell.” Brass whispered to herself. The Profound stench of death could now be smelled everywhere in the hall. “That’s the Mayor’s Office?”

“Was.” Dew replied.

“Fucking hell. What did those bugs do?” Brass spoke aloud. “Cover me.” She ordered, before taking a deep breath in while facing away from the doors. She then turned to gallop inside the room. She moved the piles of bodies away with a loud groan as if she was trying to find something. She moved around the room, darting her head all over in search of something. She took a few moments to step outside and suck in another fresh breath, moving further away from the room each time.

After the fourth time she entered the room, she started searching the Mayor’s desk. Besides the limbless pony corpse atop of the desk (which Brass shoved over as she searched), there wasn’t much of anything to look at on the desk, save for a few meaningless papers. She then started opening drawers, scurrying through them. Occasionally, she would reach into the drawer with her mouth and carefully bite on a piece of paper, placing it on the desk to read it. She did this to different pieces of paper from the desk for several minutes.

“Yes, Bingo!” she cheered, only to immediately regret speaking afterward. She looked green and pale, as she smelled the stench in the room. She then rushed out, panting for fresh air with a paper in her mouth. She spat it in her hooves and placed it against the wall, observing it. “Instructions on how to use the PA system. We struck gold in a mine full of shit.”

“Where is the PA System though?” Dew asked.

“It says its located in the… Basement? I didn’t think this building had a Basement.”

“So... we have to go downstairs then, toward where the fighting is?” I complained, still kneeling on the floor from exhaustion.

“It would seem so, yes.”

I groaned. “This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

When Brass communicated via Radio that the third floor was cleared, the response is given immediately. The ponies on the ground outside were no longer just shooting back and were actually advancing forward to breach the building from the front entrance. I overheard from Dew’s radio that the 16th and 14th began their assault, and are now making progress to push forward. They’re making steady progress, but it sounded like they were struggling to keep the casualties to a minimum.

Some parts of the 27th were still in the air, guarding the perimeter around the Hall as the rest of us pushed in. Melon’s Squad stayed with us as both Brass’ and her squad pushed downstairs. Midnight’s squad was sent to occupy the third floor, and Bales’ squad was to garrison the roof.

After we’ve established defensive positions on the upper floors of the Hall, Brass ordered us to continue sweeping the building by taking the third-floor stairway leading downward. She ordered me and Pumpkin again to scout ahead before the rest of us trotted further downward. The sounds of warfare seemed to be getting louder and louder. The fight outside seemed to be near the building, but not yet inside.

The third-floor stairway was also U-shaped, like the maintenance staircase. It ended at another hall, leading toward the front entrance. It stopped at a T-shaped intersection, with a balcony overlooking a very large area ahead. The area looked like an atrium but had no skylights to go with it. It was like the lobby of a bank, but more compact. The first floor and second floor were one big room. There were carved, marble columns that stretched all the way to the ceiling, just below the third floor.

Me and Pumpkin slowly trudged along the walls of the hall. No doors were near us, only portraits and paintings of various landscapes. We stopped at the intersection and peered around the corners of the wall. The Balcony kept stretching to the left and right of the intersection, all the way to the walls on each side of the building. Gunfire was now louder than ever, and I could hear indistinct shouting of Changelings below. I crept ever so slowly over the edge of the railings that held us back from falling.

The architecture of the lobby was unorthodox, for a political building. It had an unnecessarily large lobby connected to the front entrance. The entrance itself was actually its own separate room, with divider walls that only stopped about halfway to the ceiling. Several large doorways divided the lobby and the entrance, all of which were barricaded with various furniture and emplacements made by the Changelings. Some of the doorways were occupied by a large, cannon-like gun battery facing outside. In the midst of the firefight, I saw one of the guns fire its round toward the door, causing smoke to billow out of the barrel.

The lobby itself was ruined beyond recognition. Large desks were either broken apart, shot to pieces, blown up, or just gone altogether. They scattered the space of the room in no particular order of placement. The Changelings were all over the lobby, firing toward the front entrance and taking cover away from the large stationary windows that were emplaced on each wall. The gunfire from outside seemed to be coming from an upper angle. I immediately realized that the 14th Company must’ve been suppressing them for a while now. The Changelings were catching on to our tricks though, and have respected the sightlines of the windows enough to stay away from them.

I stepped away from the ledge, and peered the walkways along the alcony. Several doors were along the walls leading toward the back of the building. No staircase in sight though. The offices and rooms have not been cleared as well.

“That’s a lot of bugs.” Pumpkin observed, his tone dry and devoid of interest. “Not a single one of them know we’re up here.”

“Let’s keep it that way for now. We need more ponies if we wish to fight that many Changelings.” I suggested as I backpedaled away from the railing. Pumpkin followed me without protest, as we made our way back upstairs toward Brass Screws. When we arrived, we informed her of our findings.

“So we still have the element of surprise, then.” Brass contemplated aloud. “That’s good, that means we might actually win this fight. We need to jump them when the time is right.”

“All that’s left of the second floor is doors leading into seperate rooms on the balcony. No stairs, as far as I know. We may have to fly our way down.” Pumpkin retorted, as he unfurled his wings to prove his point.

“Maybe one of those doors leads to the staircase?” I inquired.

“We’ll know when the time comes. For now though, just watch the hall and garrison the stairway.” Brass ordered as she pointed at both me and Pumpkin.

“Understood.” Pumpkin answered for both of us.

“Dew, where’ you at? I need you!” Brass called out, as Pumpkin and I made our way back down the staircase. Rifles at the ready, we used our wings to slowly hover as we aimed toward the intersection. Gunfire became loud again as we passed the break in the stairway, no longer reverbing through the walls.

We waited for a few tense minutes for Brass to conclude whatever it was he was doing. I knew he was communicating with the other squad leaders with the help of Dew but had no way of interpreting what it was they were saying through the sounds of the firefight that was below. My mind then projected mental images of Changelings turning the corner of the Intersection, spotting us immediately afterward. I shook my head clear of those thoughts. I couldn’t afford to daydream now. I had to focus.

A few more minutes pass, and I heard hoofsteps behind us. I turned to find Brass standing behind us, with the rest of the squad in tow.

“I just spoke to Scribe; he’s ordered us to open fire on them right now. Things aren’t going so well outside.” She explained as the group of ponies made their way toward the balcony.

“What about the rooms on the balcony, don’t you want to clear those first?”

“I do, but orders are orders. And we need to get to the Basement anyway. This is our next step in that. We do our jobs, then we worry about that.” Brass replied, but more hushed as she trotted closer toward the railing. “Rain Drop, set up. Target the Pak Guns.” Brass ordered as Rain got to work on unfolding his bipod of the weapon. He placed it carefully along the thin railing and cocked the chamber.

“Ready.” he replied with an eerily still tone.

“Everypony, take aim! Do not fire until I say so.” Brass then ordered the rest of us. We all piled along the railing in a single file line, aiming our weapons downward. There were so many, we wouldn’t be able to kill them all if we ran out of ammo in our chambers. They were blissfully unaware of our existence. Some of the gunfire from the interior was dying down, somewhat.

Brass then trotted over toward Dew once more, as she picked up the telephone from her pack.

“This is Brass Screws from the 27th Company, we’re beginning our interior assault. Opening fire now. Out.” she spoke quickly, before stowing the phone back into the receiver. Slightly shoving Dew aside, she took position behind the railing and aimed her rifle downward. “On my mark. Pick your targets, and make those shots count.”

With those words, our weapons raised higher again. We each took aim.

“OPEN FIRE!” she shouted, as the room erupted to life once more with bullets. Rain Drops’ weapon roared like a dragon, as dozens of tracers and bullets flew through the room with deadly accuracy. And dozens of Changelings were slain because of our sudden attack. I aimed at no Changeling in particular. I just picked one and started shooting, as everypony else did. Rain Drop at least had a target, as he made quick work of the Bugs that were working on the Pak Guns.

Several of them turned behind us to see us above the lobby, firing down on top of them. Some tried to warn their comrades, others tried to make a break for it to another position. Some of them didn’t even realize what happened before they fell. Bullet casings clung and clattered all over the floor where we were standing.

It was a massacre.

Some of the Changelings managed to find a better position to combat us, as they attempted to fire back at us. But they were either lousy shots, or they just couldn’t get a good angle on us as they were being fired upon. Almost all of their bullets missed us. Some of them struck the railing and the floor beneath us, but nopony got hurt.

Dozens of Changelings fled backwards toward the back of the lobby, below the railing. When they disappeared from sight, we focused our attention on whoever was left. They were panicking and scurrying all over, some of them not even realizing what was happening. It was somewhat pitiful to watch them helplessly flail about in their doom, not knowing what to do.

When the last Changeling soldier in the room stopped moving, the guns were eerily silent. Shots were still heard outside, bullets zooming through the front entrance as they achieved nothing. Brass peeked over the railing and stared straight down. I peeked over as well, and saw nothing but green blood and Changeling corpses. The lobby had turned into a slaughterhouse.

“Pumpkin, Reconnoiter the lobby. See if you can find any more of them.” Brass pointed a hoof toward the floor below us.

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied diligently, as he spread his wings to hover. He leapt over the railing and flew around the lobby with elegance, scanning the room for hostiles.

“Okay; Sunshine, Dew, and Storm, you’re clearing the right side. Clear each room and return here when you’re done. Rain Drops, and Syringe, you’re coming with me to secure the left side. Move it!” Brass swiftly ordered us as her crew got to work. I rushed over to the end of the walkway on my side, and stopped at the last door toward the end. I hugged the wall near the door, as Storm hugged the other side of the doorframe. Dew proceeded to clear the door next to us alone, armed with his SMG.

As I was about to open the door, Pumpkin Patch finally flew back up to the balcony. “Lobby is empty, Ma’am. They’re either dead, or they fled. There’s a doorway leading to another stairway further down. That may be where the rest of them are hiding.”

“Alright, good work. Keep an eye out on the front entrance.” Brass complimented, as she continued to clear her side of the balcony. I then proceeded to slowly open the door with a hoof. I stopped opening it further when I found another staircase, leading down to the main lobby.

“Staircase.” I muttered to Storm. He nods, as he turns back behind him. At that moment, Dew emerges from her room looking satisfied. “Clear.” she said.

“All clear over here!” Dew shouted toward Brass.

“Same here. Did you find a way down?”

“Yeah, it’s another staircase.”

“Alright. We’re clear, fall in!” she ordered, as we all mingled toward the T-shaped intersection. “Gimme an ammo count. How are we on that?”

“I’ve got about 4 mags’ left.” Rain Drops spoke first.

“6 mags.” Dew then answered.

“I got plenty.”

“Me too.”

“I need another stripper clip. Anyone got one to spare?” Syringe then asked.

“Yeah, I got you.” I answered as I reached a hoof into my torn up vest. Handing her one 5-round clip, she loaded it into her rifle. “Last clip for me. Thanks.” She replied.

I then began to count my ammo as well. That was when I noticed the holes in my ammo pouches. The encounter with the Tiger from earlier had not been kind to me, my uniform, or my ammo. I didn’t realize it before, but I now had 4 stripper clips left. Not a lot.

“Brass, this is Scribe. What’s the Status on the lobby?” a voice was heard through Dew’s radio. Brass rushed over to pick up the receiver to reply.

“Area is clear. Hostiles are eliminated. There’s only a dozen or so left, and they retreated further down to the Basement.” Brass responded.

“Basement? - uh, okay! Roger that. We’re sending the 16th in right now. Over and out.” with a hiss, the tinny voice ceased.

“Okay, we’re done here. Take the staircase or fly down - doesn’t matter - just get to the lobby and assume defensive positions.”

Each of us proceeded to fly down toward the lobby using our wings. The gunfire outside suddenly died down to just sporadic pops outside. Then it ceased entirely. When we all reached the lobby, I galloped through the spacious lobby toward the front entrance. I then saw a mass of Ponies from outside rushing toward the entrance, galloping as if their life depended on it. When they saw me, some of them stopped immediately and took aim against me.

“NUDUM COLORUM, NUDUM COLORUM!” I shouted over and over, while also making an ‘X’ with my hooves. Their suspicion quickly died down after that, and they continued to rush toward the Hall. When they arrived, they stopped under the colonnade panting and exhausted.

“How bad is it?” one of them asked.

“Not bad. We didn’t even lose anypony.” I answered.

“You don’t say? Huh… finally, some good news.”

We trotted further inside as each of the ponies from the 16th trudged their way toward the lobby. “Get Scribe on the comms, tell them the main floor and up is clear.” one of the officers ordered his corporal. I didn’t recognize either of them. Beneath the balcony where my Squad was at, there was a larger Marble Staircase that started at the lobby, and ended further below. There was not a doubt in my mind that the Changelings were hiding under there. But I pondered how we were to clear them out. They were like rats in a corner; they would either fight back ferociously, or surrender meekly. I was starting to assume they would most likely do the former.

More Ponies began filing into the building from all directions. From the roof, from the balcony, from the main entrance - everywhere. The building’s exterior and perimeter was ours, no doubt about that. But the basement was a different story. And we weren’t done yet.

“Everypony in my squad, on me!” I heard Brass ordered form the commotion that filled this room. There were ponies aiming their weapons toward the basement stairs, waiting for the Changelings to see if they were gonna come out. Others were either lounging with their squad for however short it may last, or were covering a sightline that reached outside. I trotted toward Brass and the others, gathering around in a huddle. “Scribe will be here soon, no doubt to order us to clear the Basement. Gimme an ammo and med count.”

We all proceeded to inventory our belongings, listing them off aloud as we counted. I had used about 2 whole stripper clips worth of ammo during the previous engagement, and was down to 2. Informing the others, they generously gave me a few more to go on, enough to last me for another engagement. Syringe still had plenty of medical supplies, as she hadn’t needed a use for them yet.

While were were still counting our belongings, we heard a voice call out for all of us to hear. “Hey, we got a live one over here!” We each turned to look at a pony who was staring down at a Changeling Corpse. Or at least, I thought it was a corpse. Some of the others were closing in around him, discussing with one another on what to do with him. It was at that moment that I saw Scribe trot in from the front entrance, accompanied by a security detail.

“What is going on over here?” Scribe demanded for an answer, as he shoved others out of the way to see what the commotion was all about. Eventually - when my squad was finished with their inventory count - we trudged over toward them.

“This one’s still alive, sir. He looked as if he was playing dead.” an answer was given, as Scribe stared down at the Changeling in question. I peered through the huddle around him, and saw him cowering on the floor with his hooves over his head. He then stared up, and found each of us looking down on him - seemingly condescending. Out of nowhere, he started babbling in his language. Each of us were dumbfounded on what to do next. The Changeling appeared to be begging to us, as if pleading for mercy.

One of the ponies around me aimed his weapon toward the Changeling when he started moving. “No!” Scribe swiftly ordered. “Don’t shoot.” the Rifle Pony gazed at Scribe dubiously, but complied. “He may be useful to us, actually.”

“How?” Brass inquired. Scribe knelt down and muttered, low and even. I could tell he tried his best not to sound frightening or intimidating.

“Can you understand me?” he asked blankly. The Changeling stared at him, not moving or speaking. Then he pointed to his throat, and shook his head. “Can you understand what I’m saying?” Scribe asked again. The same response was given. Scribe sighed.

“Okay, how about this: Does anypony here know New Changeling? Anypony at all?” he asked to each and every one of us that was huddled around him. Nopony spoke for a while.

“I do.” someone then called out from behind me. I turned to look, and found Syringe raising her hoof. I stared at her dumbfoundedly.

“How much do you know?”

“I have a basic understanding. I can do coherent sentences, but I’m not entirely fluent.”

“Can you convince this one to surrender, so we may interrogate him on what is down there in the basement?” Scribe asked. Syringe took a moment to ponder her choice, while staring at the stairway leading down.

“I’ll try. No Promises, though.” She then trotted over to the Changeling and knelt down beside him. He flinched away in fear and kept scooting away, until Syringe spoke.

“Bist du verletzt?” she spoke in the same tongue, shocking the Changeling to a stop. I could make out what it sounded like she said, but had no way of interpreting the meaning of their conversation.

“Ja, ich kann mit dir sprechen. Ich möchte helfen. Bist du verletzt?” She spoke to him again. The ponies all around us watched in silence with anticipation, the rest of us keeping a vigilant eye out for trouble.

Syringe offered a hoof to the Changeling, in a gentle and caring manner. She spoke softly, “Ich werde dir nicht wehtun. Ich will nur reden.” The Changeling was still hesitant, but eventually reached toward Syringe. He looked more curious than fearful. At least that was a start.

“Du... Du wirst mir nicht wehtun?” The Changeling finally responded.

“Nein.” Syringe answered.

There was a pause. The Changeling looked confused and suspicious, but was otherwise cooperative thus far. I had no clue what it was they were saying, but whatever Syringe was doing seemed to be working.

“Warum? Warum hilfst du mir? Es muss einen Grund geben, wenn du so fürsorglich und freundlich bist!” The Changeling seemed to be peeved.

“Es gibt einen Grund. Aber ich möchte nur, dass du zuerst meine Fragen beantwortest. Ich verspreche, dass dir nichts passieren wird.”

The Changeling once again went silent. I then noticed Brass Screws turn away from the huddle. “Pumpkin, Storm, and RainDrop; set up a defensive perimeter on the roof. If you spot anything, one of you will notify me ASAP.” She barked orders as she pointed hooves in several directions.

“Wilco.” responded Pumpkin.

“Warum interessiert es dich, was mit mir passiert? Ich bin ein Changeling! Du hasst mich und meine Art!” Bitterfully, the Changeling spoke once again. I turned back to look.

“Ich hasse dich nicht. Ich hasse nur, was deine Art getan hat. Ich wünschte nur, es hätte eine freundschaftliche Alternative geben können. Und ich beginne das mit dir.” Syringe answered with a kindhearted tone, I noticed. It struck the Changeling silent once again. Soon, he started to look down at the ground.

Then I saw his shoulders beginning to tremble incessantly. He was crying. He bursted into tears. “Ich weiß nicht..... Ich verstehe nicht, warum. Warum - das musste passieren. Ich habe so viele gute Freunde umsonst verloren - ohne Grund. Überhaupt kein Grund! Ich weiß nicht…” He ceased his blubbering for only a moment, to gaze at several of the dead bugs that littered the lobby. The stench of copper and Iron pervaded around us. “ch will einfach nur weggehen. Ich will nur, dass es aufhört.”

Syringe could only watch as the Bug lost his emotional control. In a way… I felt sorry for him. I couldn’t understand what it was he was sad about, but something told me it was personal. That the Bugs also had their own lives, their own emotions, their own stories, and trials.

Just like we did.

After much pondering and contemplation, Syringe finally spoke. “Du kannst helfen, mehr zu verhindern. Es gibt immer noch Überlebende Ihres defensiven Regiments, die sich in den unteren Ebenen befinden. Sie werden abgeschlachtet, wenn sie sich weigern, sich zu ergeben. Du kannst helfen, sie vom Gegenteil zu überzeugen.”

The Changeling then looked up at her, wide-eyed and surprised.

“Du.... du verschonst sie, wenn sie ihre Waffen ablegen können? Nein, nein, das ist unmöglich!” He shook his head vigorously. “Selbst wenn man ihnen einen Moment des Friedens für die Verhandlungen geben könnte, werden sie trotzdem ablehnen.”

Syringe squinted her eyes. “Dann lass sie akzeptieren! Wir haben überlegene Zahlen und Taktiken, du hast nur überlegene Waffen. Sie können ihnen mitteilen, dass sie hoffnungslos in der Unterzahl sind, und sie bitten, ihre Waffen niederzulegen. Nur dann können wir sie verschonen.”

The Changeling continued to stare down at the floor. He remained still for a while. A few tense moments went by, as ponies began to be more on edge on what his reaction would be.

Finally, he spoke. “In Ordnung. Ich werde es tun.” Syringe smiled at his response.

Syringe stood up and faced Scribe. “Well?” He inquired.

“He’ll help, but on a condition: All of them are to be spared if they do surrender. They will lay down their weapons and will be inspected, but they must be spared.”

Scribe was quiet for a moment. “All of them?”

“All of them.” Syringe replied, not missing a beat. She seemed steadfast on the agreement. Scribe pondered again, a little longer this time.

“Alright. Fine.” He answered. Syringe smiled, as she turned back to face the Changeling.

“Wir sind bereit, wenn du es bist.”

After a little re-planning and organization with the defenses of the building, my squad - along with several others - were assigned to the sweeping team for the Basement. We brought the Changeling with us in tow, as per our agreement. We had him shackled and his horn handicapped with a Magic Dampening Ring.

The layout of the Basement was not what I expected. The Stairs ended at a single door in a wall, leading to nowhere else. We hesitantly opened it, and it revealed another 4-way intersection. Each hall led to its own door at the end, with several others branching off to the walls along each path. As the group descended lower, I hugged the wall closer to my right.

Two of the Halls were different. One to the left had no doors on the wall with only one door frame attached to the dead end. The one that broke off straight ahead had a large, circle-shaped door that filled the entire wall frame. It was bulky, thick, and massive. It looked like a vault, more than a door. In fact, I automatically assumed it was a Vault.

“Which one is it?” Scribe asked Syringe.

“I dunno. He didn’t know exactly where they were either.” Syringe then replied, gazing her eyes at the Changeling. Several other ponies - myself included - were aiming their weapons toward the various halls, expecting company at any moment.

“Alright, I have an idea. Does he know a voice amplification spell?”

“I dunno, hold on.” Syringe raised a hoof toward Scribe, while simultaneously facing the Changeling. “Kannst du deine Stimme mit Magie verstärken?”

The Changeling looked up to her, and nodded. “Ja, Das kann ich tun.”

“He can do it.” Syringe spoke again normally, toward Scribe.

“Have him call out to his comrades using that. Tell them to surrender. if he makes a move, kill him.”

Everypony some ponies immediately aimed their rifles toward the Changeling, causing him to flinch. No shot was made, but that could change in an instant.

“Righto.” She replied, as she whispered to the Changeling. It was inaudible from my range, so I couldn’t hear what it was they were saying. But the Changeling nodded in the end, as Syringe carefully removed the ring from his horn. Ponies aimed at him suspiciously, as the horn was carefully removed. The Changeling remained still during the process. The ponies also remained reserved even after nothing happened.

Syringe motioned the Changeling to proceed with her hoof. He stepped forward by one step, and his horn illuminated. Everypony had a weapon aimed at him.

“ACHTUNG, TAPFERE SOLDATEN! DER KAMPF IST VORBEI!” His voice gave a mighty boom, sort of like how Luna did with her signature Canterlot Voice. “ICH STEHE JETZT VOR DIR MIT PONYS HINTER MIR, UND JEDER VON IHNEN IST BEWAFFNET. SIE WERDEN NICHT OHNE KAMPF UNTERGEHEN, ABER SIE HOFFEN AUCH, DASS DER KAMPF VERHINDERT WERDEN KONNTE!”

“Be prepared for anything. If Shit hits the fan, retreat upstairs.” Scribe muttered to all of us in earshot.

“ICH FLEHE DICH AN, LEG DEINE ARME HIN UND TRITT FRIEDLICH VOR. SIE HABEN MIR GEGENÜBER FREUNDLICHKEIT GEZEIGT, INDEM SIE MEIN LEBEN VERSCHONT HABEN, UND SIE WERDEN DASSELBE MIT DIR TUN, WENN DU DICH DARAN HÄLTST.”

There was no noise heard for a solid ten seconds. Everypony waited in tense, nerve wracking silence. Finally, the Changeling spoke again. “ICH BITTE EUCH ALLE, NUR EINEN MOMENT LANG LOGISCH ZU DENKEN. IST ES WIRKLICH WERT, DASS IHR UM EINEN KRIEG KÄMPFT, DER EINEN GROLL HERVORRUFT? AUF EIN EREIGNIS, DAS VOR JAHREN GESCHAH? BITTE, BEENDEN SIE DIESEN WAHNSINN, BEVOR ES ZU SPÄT IST!”

More silence was heard. Nothing happened. The halls were eerily still and quiet. Ponies turned their gazes in several directions in nervous anticipation.

“Is that a 'no', then?” Somepony whispered from behind.

“Shush!” Scribe hastily sneered. More silence was heard.

Blam! Blam Blam!

Gunshots were heard from the Vault doors. We each turned our weapons toward it. More gunshots were heard from there, but nothing happened. The door didn’t open, and nothing was outside of it. It didn’t sound like it came from any of the other side rooms, neither. It was from that Vault.

Then the shots were silent. No other noise was heard for a long while.

“What was that about?” Dew muttered from my left.

“Dunno. Sounded like a struggle of some kind.” Brass replied.

“Did you think they heard the message?” Scribe asked Syringe.

“Maybe. No way of telling.”

As Syringe answered, there was finally another sound. It was loud and sudden, making each of us jump and aim at the vault again upon hearing it. It was the sounds of the door opening, coming from straight ahead. The cross-shaped handle attached to the middle of the door spun rapidly, as the door itself groaned deafeningly.

The door wasn’t even finished opening, when dozens upon dozens of firearms all of the sudden were tossed outside. It kept happening, until the vault opened wide enough to reveal the interior. About 15 or so Changelings were seen, each of them standing away from one another while kneeling with their heads down. Each of them looked unarmed.

There were bodies behind them, but not Ponies. They were also Changelings, as one of them carried an Officer’s Uniform. A pistol laid atop his chest, as a pool of blood formed beneath him. I could tell at first glance that a Mutiny had occurred. A part of me was relieved, actually. I honestly didn’t think this plan would work.

“Move in and restrain them. Brass, stay with your squad and cover the others.” Scribe ordered, as we each got to work. Ponies began to funnel into the halls and carefully make their way toward the POWs. I turned to look at Syringe, who was sitting beside the Changeling we had from earlier.

Both of them looked immensely relieved.

After rounding up and clearing out the POWs, we officially declared the City Hall Liberated from its Oppressors. We immediately began clearing out the Basement and the rooms in it, in hopes to find the PA system - the whole point of this assault.

I stayed with Brass and the others, helping them search the Vault. The layout was what I expected a Vault should be; rows upon rows of lockboxes, stored away in a neat inventory of shelves and cabinets. They were all still locked. But most of the Valuables that happened to be outside of the lockboxes were taken by the Changelings. What they could take, they did.

“Why the hell does a City Hall need an Underground Vault?” I asked aloud, unsure of the practical uses behind this architectural design.

“Maybe this is the City’s Treasury Vault?” Morning Dew.

“It could be anything. But if we can’t find a PA System in here, than this room is worthless.” Brass than replied.

“Brass!” A pony then called from beyond the Vault entrance. I turned to look, finding a Brown coated Stallion galloping toward us. “Nothing else in any of the other halls. The whole place seems deserted, ma’am!”

“No Loudspeakers at all?”

“None, ma’am!”

“FUCK!” Brass cursed loudly. Nopony else dared to speak, as we continued our search.

I kept scanning the corners of the Vault, finding Several overturned Tables that used to be planted on all fours at another time. They were like this since we entered. I found it odd that those Changelings would leave them like this. It seemed unusual.

Something urged me to move them. I didn’t know or see why I should, given that I’ve already scanned this spot three times now… but Curiosity got the better of me. I tilted one of the tables over on its side, causing it to crash down.

Behind it was something I did not expect. A pair of doors.

“Hey, I found something!” I called out. Everypony saw the doors I revealed, and trotted closer to me. There was a control panel next to it, with multiple buttons that had numbers crudely painted on them. It started at -1, and ended at -2.

There was another Sublevel?

“It’s an elevator.” Brass noted. “It leads further down.”

“Okay, is this really a City Hall? It looks more like a bunker to me.” Storm Cloud remarked.

“Only one way to find out.” Brass answered as she stepped into the elevator. She turned to look back at us, as neither one of us moved. “Well, you coming?”

I had a lot of mental images in my head as to what might be in this second sublevel, but I must admit: I did not imagine it like this!

Beneath the Vault was a plethora of Electronic Devices, and Computing Machines - some of them minuscule, others titanic. There were these devices that sat atop of shelves stretching all the way toward the ceiling; each device had numerous blinking lights that lit up the shelves, but barely anything else beyond that.

There was a single screen that illuminated the dim room around as, providing the only source of light in the room. The room itself wasn’t too large, only about the length and width of 12 Ponies. But beneath the Terminal Screen, there was another device. It had twistable frequency and volume tuners, with a Microphone attached to both the screen and the device.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. That had to be the PA System.

“We found it.” Brass muttered. “And some other stuff, too.” She then trotted closer to the Microphone, inspecting the machinery around it. “I need some time to figure out how to work this. In the meantime, make yourself useful and search the room. Find anything else useful.”

We each trotted to our own separate directions. The blinking lights offered guidance away from the shelves so that I wouldn’t accidentally collide with them in the darkness. I kept darting my eyes all over, trying to adjust to the lack of lighting. It was difficult. It was times like this where I wish I was a Unicorn. I bet they would have some sort of illumination spell to help in times like these.

“Holy shit, I think we just struck a Gold Mine! I got maps of Troop movements no earlier than last week, with detailed Logistics Reports on their war effort.” Dew called out from the darkness.

“Yeah, detailed troop movements. This place has a shit-ton of information.” Storm agreed. “I got battle plans, timetables, assigned divisions, and various dates.”

“Okay, I got this thing working now. I’m gonna send the Broadcast.” Brass then announced as I kept searching. As I slowly trotted in a random direction, my hoof nearly tripped over an object. I glared down toward the floor and found a yellowish decal inscribed atop of something. I knelt down and found a single box-shaped container.

Brass then spoke into the Microphone, broadcasting his message. “Ponies of Vanhoover, my name is Brass Screws. Like you, I was a victim of this war, and I have seen what death and destruction can do.

“But the time for hiding is no more! As of now, the Ponies are the Equestrian Army are clearing out the buildings and streets of our city. The Changelings have been routed out in several locations, and are fleeing from the city limits.”

As Brass continued her speech, I further inspected the box. It looked… Different. It had a Carbon or Polymer material feel to it, while also feeling somewhat lightweight. There was a Symbol at the top of the box. It had three Black Irregular Triangles, and three more of the same kind but painted yellow instead of black. They were in a pattern, revolving around a single dot in the center.

“Ponies, you do not have to hide anymore. You are now free! Vanhoover is finally Liberated. May the Princesses smile upon us this day!” Brass finally concluded, as I gingerly opened the box, but failed to do so. I then lifted each of the latches that sealed it shut. The container then opened, revealing its contents.

Inside the container was a Styrofoam padding, with the crevices and dips to fit three capsule-shaped items. Only two of them remained, one of them missing. There was that same symbol from the top, embedded in the roof of the lid. It had writing underneath the symbol.

“Hey, what the hell does ‘Radioactive’ mean?” I asked aloud as I turned to face Brass. She stared at me, long and hard.

“Wh- what did you say?”

“Radioactive. It’s in this-”

“Close it! Close it right now!” Brass loudly ordered, prompting me to close the case swiftly. She then trotted over quickly toward me, while the other ponies looked toward the Box.

“You said it was ‘Radioactive’?” Brass asked hastily. I felt more nervous now.

“Y-yeah. That’s what it said.”

Brass didn’t reply. She simply stared at the box, silently.

“Open it.” she ordered. I proceeded to lift the lid upward again, revealing the two capsules. Brass and other ponies were huddling around us, staring at the contents inside.

“What in the hell are those things?” Pumpkin, just as confused as I was.

“I think they’re bombs. They look like bombs.” Storm muttered.

“They don’t look like any bomb I’ve ever seen.” Syringe noted,

“That’s because they’re not like any other bomb.” Brass than spoke, uncannily quiet.

“Those are Nuclear Weapons.”