Machina Cor Armageddon

“You shouldn’t complain. You still got a medal on your third try,” Sparkle said. “Even if you did have to hold back to keep it in the stadium.”

“Where did the javelin even go?” Dust asked.

“Mm. Given the speed, there’s a good chance it went into orbit. Technically, since you left the field before it landed, the throw is disqualified.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“It isn’t,” interrupted a pony pushing between Sparkle and Dust. Thunderlane glared at Dust, getting into her face in exactly the way a smart pony wouldn’t. “Because you’re a cheater. Fair play apparently doesn’t come into it.”

“I’m not a cheater,” Dust said, puffing up her chest and wincing when the stitches pulled.

“Just because the judges couldn’t find any drugs or magic doesn’t mean you’re not cheating. I don’t know if it’s something your little horn-headed friend came up with, or if you did something else clever, but it won’t stand. No matter what happens I’m gonna make sure your records aren't in the books.”

“Why don’t you try beating them before you complain?” Dust suggested.

“I will. But first I’m gonna beat you in the ring. Pego-Romane Wrestling is my best event, and your tricks aren’t going to work when you’re fighting a real expert instead of a clock. I’m gonna make sure your coach isn’t allowed anywhere near you, too. You’re not getting any outside help, punk.”

“Punk?” Dust snorted. “Punk? Is that really the best insult you’ve got?”

“I don’t need to insult you. Your reputation does that all by itself.” Thunderlane looked down his snout at Dust and walked away.

“What an ass,” Dust muttered.

“Stop looking at his flank and get ready. He’s right that wrestling is his best event and, technically, your ribs are still healing. Try not to get punched in the chest. I’m not entirely sure your heart won’t stop if it gets too much of a shock.”

“I wasn’t looking at his butt!” Dust blushed. “What was that about my heart?”

“I know this is the event I was looking forward to the most, Funky.”

“You’re not the only one, Fire Streak. The wrestling competition is one of the most exciting events in the entire games! Some ponies like to talk about the artistry of the sky ballet, but this has just as much technical work.”

“That’s true, but what I like is the real spirit of competition it breeds, the one-on-one fights to get to the top. It’s one thing to beat a clock or a number, it’s another thing to have another pony there, trying their hardest to beat you.”

“Thunderlane is the favorite to win this by a wide margin. We’re told he’s been seeded into the top eight based on the qualifying rounds.”

“Traditionally the finals have the former champion seeded, but she retired from the event and is currently serving in Manehattan’s defense force - and I’d just like to say that I know Windblade personally and she’s one of the bravest ponies in Equestria. I suspect once the war is over she’ll be back here to try and get her title back.”

“No doubt, Fire Streak.”

“For the benefit of the audience, we should go over the rules. I’m sure we have a few ponies in the stands who are seeing this event for the first time.”

“That’s a great idea! Everypony, if you’ll look to the center of the arena you’ll see the Cloudsdale Games Martial Arts Ring, made of construction-grade clouds that can withstand just about anything you can throw at them - and they need to! The top eight competitors are going to fight in one-on-one duels in three rounds. In each round the loser is the first to touch the clouds anywhere except the ring surface, get knocked out, or surrender. Unsportsmarelike conduct will, of course, get a pony dismissed - no intentional attacks to the eyes or groin, no attacking an unconscious opponent or one who has surrendered, and most of all, no killing your opponent.”

“Of course the last time we had a fatality in the ring was Silverbolt in the 948 games. His opponent, Sky Lynx, put him in a sleeper hold and held it improperly, accidentally breaking his neck. It was a real tragedy.”

“Let’s just hope nothing like that happens today. I know there are some ponies out there that would love to get their hooves around a certain competitor’s neck…”

Dust looked up at her first opponent.

“YEAH!” He screamed, flexing. He was huge. Probably the most muscular pony Lightning Dust had ever seen. Not the tallest, though. That went to Princess Celestia, who loomed ever larger in her mind’s eye since the last time she’d seen the alicorn she had been sitting far above her in a golden throne and telling Lightning Dust how disappointed she was.

Compared to that, maybe this guy wasn’t so bad.

“Bulk Biceps, are you ready?” The judge asked.

“YEAH!”

“Lightning Dust, are you ready?”

“Sure,” she said, shrugging.

“Begin!”

Bulk Biceps immediately punched Lightning Dust in the face, before the Judge had even finished speaking. His hoof slammed into her jaw with force that would shatter bricks.

Dust barely felt it.

“...yeah?” Bulk looked confused. According to his experiences in the past, ponies who took a punch like that were supposed to fall to the ground or get launched outside the ring and then fall to the ground. They definitely weren’t supposed to stand there like they were waiting for him to try harder.

Unfortunately for Bulk, the small cluster of muscles that resided in his skull took a lot of time to make decisions in place of the brain matter that would usually be there, so instead of evaluating his chances wisely, he punched Lightning Dust in the face again, this time with a big left hook.

When it landed and Dust’s only reaction was a step to the side to keep her balance, his muscle memory had found a few nerve cells to rub together and was desperately trying to get smoke signals out to alert him to some basic facts about his chances.

It was too late.

Lightning Dust grabbed his hoof and twisted. There was a snapping sound as things went horribly wrong under his skin.

“Oh stars! I was supposed to- I’m so sorry! I was trying to twist your hoof!”

Bulk looked at his hoof for a long moment and made a sound so high pitched only certain species of bat could actually detect it. He passed out a few seconds later when the pain hit.

“Don’t worry, folks, the doctors are reporting Mister Biceps will almost certainly make a full recovery once they get everything reattached!”

“Let’s just move on to the next round, Funky.”

“Your last opponent was a fool,” Dust’s second opponent was smaller, but she looked much more dangerous, a black mare whose gray mane was struck through with yellow streaks. “He wasn’t worthy of being in this competition but clearly the field was empty with so many soldiers serving in the field.”

“You’re probably right,” Dust agreed. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Skydive,” she said, holding out a hoof for Dust to shake. “Of course I already know who you are.”

“I doubt you’ve heard flattering things.”

“No.”

“I haven’t heard of you at all.”

“Perhaps worse. I'd rather be spoken of poorly than be totally unknown. Good luck.”

Dust shook her hoof.

“Are you ready?” The judge asked, looking at each of them. They nodded and separated, taking a few steps away from each other and turning. “Begin!”

Lightning Dust barely reacted in time to stop the first blow, Skydive rushing and attacking so quickly it was like she’d teleported across the ring to strike with the back of her hoof in a spinning surge that put her whole bodyweight and wingpower behind it.

“I know those moves,” Dust said, using both forehooves to block the attack, digging her rear hooves into the ground to keep steady. “Krav Pega?”

“Krav Pega is a lesser shadow of my style,” Skydive corrected, using her blocked hoof as a fulcrum to leap away and avoid Dust’s wing buffet. “There is a school of martial arts descended from Princess Celestia herself, passed down to only a worthy few.”

She dropped into a different stance, and lightning surrounded her wings.

“The School of the Undefeated of the East!”

“Never heard of it,” Dust said.

Skydive charged, the electricity on her wings forming a red-hot sheath as dangerous as any wingblade. “Sunshine Feather!”

She seemed shocked when Lightning Dust caught the blade with her hooves, the lightning grounding between them.

“How?!” Skydive gasped.

“I don’t really know any fancy techniques, but my Dad, Thunderwing, he taught me that in a real fight you don’t go around telling your opponent what you’re about to do.” She pulled Skydive in with a jerk and slammed their foreheads together in a headbutt that sounded like a landslide.

Skydive slumped to the ground, dazed.

“Only an earth pony can stop that attack with their hooves,” Skydive said. “It should have gone right through your guard!”

“Maybe I’m just special,” Dust said, before bucking her right out of the ring.

“That was a big upset, Funky. I expected Skydive to win that. She really showed some impressive stuff. She was the only mare I thought might really give Thunderlane a challenge in the finals.”

“She sure did keep things exciting for the fans! I had a chance to speak to her while she was getting looked at by the medics - Skydive says she just got overconfident, and that the lesson was worth the price of admission.”

“Overconfidence is always a danger. I bet she’d love a second chance.”

“She’ll be competing for third place in the runner-up match after the main event, so she’s still got a chance at a medal. Let’s all give a round of applause for her and Thunderlane’s opponent, Stratosphere. He put up a great aerial match with Thunderlane but the danger of taking the fight to the air is you open yourself up to being knocked out of the ring as we saw today.”

“Despite her performance in the sprints today, Dust seems to be keeping it grounded, so I doubt she’ll make the same mistake.”

Thunderlane glared at Lightning Dust from across the arena. He looked at the official next to him and nodded to her.

“Okay, you’ve been watching her matches. What kind of tricks is she using?”

“Tricks?” the official asked, looking up from his clipboard.

“I know her official record. She’s good, but she’s not special. And she hasn’t been in training or active duty in years! She has to be using some kind of trick, especially with that unicorn that’s been following her around.” Thunderlane huffed. “It’s a disgrace to the spirit of the games and all the fans know it. She should be disqualified!”

“We can’t just disqualify a pony because the fans don’t like them.”

“Then figure out how she’s cheating and disqualify her for that!”

“If she’s cheating, we’ll do just that.”

“Good. You get to work on that, and I’ll go and beat her using some real combat skills. See, I figured out the big weakness she has - she keeps letting her opponents make the first move. She’s not sure of herself. Classic sign of a cheater is that they don’t have confidence. All I have to do is make sure my first attack is one that’ll take her down and she won’t even have a chance to use her tricks.”

“Great plan, sir.”

“Of course it is. That’s why I’m gonna be the champ. You just wait and see.”

Thunderlane strutted towards the ring, the official shaking his head in disbelief.

“And here he is folks, Thunderlane, the great hope of Ponyville and three-time winner of the mixed-tribe division of the annual Stalliongrad Kumate! Let’s get a round of applause!”

“If they cheer any harder, the stadium might shake itself apart! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a crowd this unified.”

“That’s probably because they all want to see him take down his opponent - those cheers are going away pretty quickly now that Lightning Dust is entering the arena.”

Dust tapped her hoof impatiently as Thunderlane circled the ring, working the crowd and getting them pumped up for the match.

“You don’t have what it takes, Dust!” Thunderlane yelled into the microphone he’d taken from the judge. “You’ve been using lame tricks and I’m going to show you they don’t work on a pony with real skills!”

“Can we just get on with it?” Dust groaned as Thunderlane launched into another speech, the crowd roaring approval. She looked at the judge, who was watching and waiting to get his microphone back.

“Word from the top is to let him talk,” the judge said.

“If he doesn’t stop soon I’m gonna start the match early,” she grumbled.

“You’ll be disqualified if you attack him before the start--”

“I know that!” Dust snapped.

“You hear all that, Lightning Dust? The heavens cry out! The earth cries out! The crowd roars! All calling on me to beat you! Listen up, I’m Thunderlane, and in two minutes I’m gonna be the champion!”

“Are you done?” Dust asked. “Because I’m getting pretty bored.”

Thunderlane tossed the judge the microphone he’d been holding.

“You’re gonna be done. Hope you like second place,” he said.

“Yeah, sure. Are you done with the wrestling promo? Because I’m looking forward to punching your snout out the other side of your head.”

Thunderlane dropped into a fighting stance. “Anytime you are.”

The judge stepped between them. “I want a clean match. This is the finals, so nothing funny. We’ll be watching this twice as closely. Ready? Begin!”

Thunderlane jumped over him to get to Lightning Dust before she could put up any kind of defense.

She wasn’t there.

“What-” he looked around, confused, and four hooves landed on his back.

“Kinda slow, Thunderlane,” Dust said, standing on him. “Is that why you didn’t bother with the track and field events?”

Thunderlane dropped down and used his wings to spin upside-down, kicking straight up, hitting only air.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you a free hit,” Dust offered. “I don’t want you complaining later.” She landed in the middle of the arena. “How about it?”

“I don’t need your permission!” Thunderlane charged, putting everything into one giant blow. “Dynamite Kick!”

Thunderlane’s kick hit Dust in the chest. Specifically, right in the line of stitches and staples holding her together. He felt her ribs shift from the force, and she backed up a step, coughing and spitting out a blood clot.

“Ow,” she groaned, wincing when she touched her side. “Well, you’re the first pony smart enough to go for the obvious weak spot, I’ll give you that.”

“You should give up. I’ll let you off easy if you concede. Otherwise, I’ll have to beat you to a pulp.”

“Give up?” Dust smirked. “I’m not sure what those words mean.” She spread her wings and blurred with speed, bursting past Thunderlane. He spread his wings to follow, and the supersonic shockwave caught him with his guard down, sending him into a tumble. A hoof grabbed his tail, and he was jerked the other way, swung like a hammer toss into the center of the arena floor, half his tail torn out.

Dust landed on his chest, and he gasped, the air driven from his lungs.

“Sparkle says I should be a better student, so let’s see if we can figure out the definition if we try really hard,” Dust said. Like a cat, she seemed to somehow double in weight as she shifted to press her hooves harder into his chest. He couldn’t get a breath, and struggled, trying to push her off to no effect.

“I- I-” Thunderlane gasped, his vision going black around the edges.

“What was that?” Dust asked. She pressed harder.

“I give!”

“What in Tartarus is the problem?” Dust growled, as the officials led her back into the offices. “He gave up! The judge heard it just fine!”

“Miss Lightning Dust, Doctor Sparkle, I don’t think we’ve met,” A brown earth pony looked up at them from a neatly organized pile of forms. “My name is Harshwhinny. I was asked to organize this event and your last-minute entry was something that I haven’t been able to examine in detail until now.”

“You organize the Equestria Games,” Doctor Sparkle noted. “I’ve seen your name come up before. I didn’t think the Cloudsdale games were part of your purview.”

“They usually aren’t, but one does what one must to help. These games are important for morale in these troubling times, you see.”

Dust snorted. “If you say so.”

“I do say so. That is the entire point of these games. Ponies need to be able to forget the war and their troubles, but your presence is not helping.” She glared at Lightning Dust and Doctor Sparkle. “I’m also troubled by your performance.”

“You’re upset I’m winning, you mean,” Dust corrected.

“I’m troubled that you’re winning by such large margins. It isn’t natural. It would be one thing if you beat records by a few percent, shaved a fraction of a second here or there. That would simply be the result of training and talent. We expect records to be broken. That’s why we have them to begin with - to give ponies a goal to reach for. You didn’t merely beat the records, you beat them by such wide margins that nopony could possibly accept the results.”

“That sounds like sour grapes,” Sparkle said.

“It’s hardly sour grapes. I strongly suspect you of cheating, though I can’t divine the method.”

“It isn’t cheating,” Sparkle spat. “She’s simply beyond the bounds of normal ponies now. The reason she’s beating your records so easily is the same reason an adult would crush foals.”

“And we have separate divisions for foals and adults for just that reason. The games are supposed to uplift ponies’ spirits. You’re hardly doing that.”

“Irrelevant. If there’s nothing important to discuss, we’ll be leaving. I believe we have a marathon scheduled to begin soon.”

“I will be reviewing the rules, Miss Sparkle. I warn you now that I’ll be looking for even the smallest reason to ask you to leave.”

“Doctor. Not Miss. Unlike you.” Sparkle turned on her heels and left, Dust following along behind with an apologetic shrug.

“Well, Fire Steak, it’s a new day here at the Games and I’m happy to have you with me here in the booth once again. For anypony just joining us, I’m Funky Flashmare, and today we have the biggest event of the games - or at least the longest!”

“That’s right, Funky. Today there is only one major event scheduled, but it’s the event that most ponies would say really defined the games from the start. The Mustang Marathon!”

“The Mustang Marathon is a test of endurance, flying skill, speed, and endurance. And Funky Flashmare didn’t make a mistake, folks! I said endurance twice for a reason - the race is over forty-two kilometers in length! Just being able to fly that distance without rest requires a huge amount of training and willpower.”

“My good friend, Wind Rider, holds the record for this event at just under one hour, a record he set and improved on several times to its current standing of fifty-nine minutes and twenty-two seconds. I’d be curious to see if any ponies here today will be able to come close to his time.”

“As is tradition, every pony registered for the games is on the starting line today. Usually, we only see a small percentage of finishes, but the parade of athletes around Cloudsdale has always been a symbol of unity.”

“Despite how many ponies have to drop out early, the opening stretch is a critical part of the race. The first two laps around the stadium are taken together as a flock, and then the serious competitors will follow the race markers out across the city. As you know, there are medals for the quarter, half, and full marathon length checkpoints - and only a few ponies have ever managed more than one medal in a single Mustang Marathon.”

“And why is that, Fire Streak?”

“Ponies going for the full distance have to hold back some of their energy to ensure they can make it to the last checkpoints. Speaking from experience, if you’re going for that quarter or half marathon medal? You need to use that energy to get ahead of the pack, and you burn out. Most ponies simply can’t keep up that kind of pace for a whole race.”

“Any predictions for the crowd?”

“Normally I’d be willing to put my bits on a few seasoned ponies, but this year we have a real wildcard in the mix. Ask me again halfway through the race.”

Dust struggled to keep herself in check and stay with the flock as they circled the stadium. Formation flying had never been her strongest skill, and this was painfully slow. Half the ponies were exhausted from their own events, and Dust was bursting with energy. Almost literally. She had to make sure her wake wasn’t going to knock anypony out of the air.

There was something dangerous in the air, too. A sense that something was after her.

Aside from all the ponies that wanted her to lose, which was just about everypony in the world, it seemed.

The second lap concluded with a huge round of applause and the Cloudsdale Anthem, and most of the ponies in the flock peeled off towards the stadium field. The air cleared, and the tight quarters were suddenly full of open sky.

“Here we go,” Dust grinned.

A dark shape, huge and angular, swept past her.

“Huh?”

Dust only caught a glimpse of scales and black crystal plating as it swept into a bank of clouds and disappeared from sight. Two of the ponies that had been ahead of her had vanished along with it.

“What was that?!” Asked the pony next to her. Dust glanced at her. Skydive was there, the black pony flying closer.

“I think we have a party crasher,” Dust said.

“Funky, did you see that?”

“I don’t want to alarm anypony, but I saw something out there on the marathon course and that was not a pony.”

“Hey, you can’t come in here-”

“Shut up. Lightning Dust, this is Doctor Sparkle. I’m in the announcer’s booth. I just got word from Moondancer that our contacts in the EUP say a Linnorm was detected in Cloudsdale airspace. You need to destroy it quickly!”

“Ma’am, you’re not allowed to- ow! She hit me!”

“I’ll provide support from here. Do what you can to keep it away from other ponies and look for a weakness. I’ll let you know what we find out from long-range scrying.”

“While you’re here, could you explain what’s happening?”

“What?”

“Well we like to provide running commentary on events.”

“This is a crisis situation, not a sporting event!”

"Technically it's both!"

“A Linnorm?” Skydive asked.

“Big monster dragon thing,” Dust said. “No time to explain. Everypony needs to scatter and get away-”

“Don’t be silly,” Skydive scoffed, her wings flickering with light. “We can fight.”

“The only place I’m running is towards the finish line,” Thunderlane added, as he formed up on Dust. “You really think I’m gonna let you take all the credit? I have a reputation to protect!”

“If the other ponies scatter, that monster could go anywhere,” Skydive added.

“You want to use everypony as bait?” Dust asked. She grinned. “You’re more ruthless than I thought.”

“The School of the Undefeated of the East teaches that victory comes from planning without emotion. You must think five steps ahead of your opponent, and then five steps ahead of yourself to see the flaws in your own plan.”

“Well I see one big flaw already,” Thunderlane said. “We’re all unarmed.”

“Says the pony who made it to the finals of the martial arts competition,” Dust said. “You can’t fight a dragon without a magic sword?”

“My Dynamite Kick could knock it right out of the air!”

“Then stop complaining and keep your eyes open. That thing could be-”

A shadow passed over them, and Dust got a good look at the beast for the first time. Its wings were plated like slabs of obsidian, barely moving as it swept through the air silently, clearly relying entirely on magic to keep it from crashing.

“It’s going after the ponies in the lead!” Skydive yelled, climbing to go after it, the lightning dancing among her feathers hardening into a cutting arc of electricity.

She slammed into it, the blade cracking the crystalline plating over the Linnorm’s wing. It swooped to the side, exposing its belly to her, and a harsh purple light flared from inside an open steel ribcage.

Dust grabbed Skydive, flaring her wings and braking hard, barely dodging a spray of violet bolts.

“Don’t underestimate it! They don’t go down easy!” She kept holding onto her, guiding her into the Linnorm’s draft. “I had to fight two of these already and they just get angry when you hurt ‘em! You have to go all-out!”

“Got a plan?” Thunderlane asked.

“We need to get it away from other ponies! If it wounds anypony, they’ll turn into crystal slaves!”

“It already took a few ponies out!”

“They’ll be back, if they’re not entirely dead.”

“This broadcast can be heard everywhere in Cloudsdale?”

“It goes over the public announcement system during the Mustang Marathon so ponies know when the racers are approaching. A lot of businesses schedule breaks for when the flock is close to-”

“Lightning Dust, I’m looking at the course map. If you stay on it, you’ll be near the most populated areas of the city. You need to keep on top of it!”

“Tell me what I don’t already know!” Dust yelled.

“Do you know we’ve got three ponies on our six, and they don’t look friendly?” Thunderlane asked.

Dust glanced back. Three ponies. Glowing eyes. Open wounds overgrown with crystals.

“Think you two can keep them off my back while I deal with the big one?” Dust asked. “Don’t bother being gentle.”

“Those three?” Thunderlane smirked. “They should know better. I don’t know if you heard, but I’m the champion three times running-”

“Okay, Silver Medal, I gotcha. You’ll manage. Skydive, try to keep him alive. I don’t think you can save those ponies. You might have to kill them to keep them down.”

“It won’t come to that,” Skydive said. “Princess Celestia’s teachings are about how to disable an opponent without killing.”

“Cool. You do you. I’m gonna kill a Linnorm.”

Dust swept her wings back, watching the creature ahead of her, and tapped into the storm inside her. The world blurred as she shot ahead, passing the Linnorm and getting its attention.

The creature turned its head to look at her and banked, following Dust away from the race course and towards the city. For the Games, practically every shop had put out a display showing their enthusiasm and support. And the great deals they were offering on prices so inflated you could use them to suspend Canterlot among the clouds.

Main Street looked like a particularly enthusiastic spider had strung a web like a roof between the buildings, if said spider’s silk came in every shade of the rainbow and trapped pennants and lights instead of flies.

They shot through the shopping district, tearing through the banners and flags, the Linnorm not slowing as it tore them from their moorings, a small airship’s anchoring line catching in its maw for a moment before snapping, the ends trailing from both sides of its fanged mouth. Banners snagged on the creature’s horns, covering its eyes as they ripped free.

Dust grabbed the ends of the mooring cable, tugging the steel wire to the left, and the blinded Linnorm slowly responded, turning with her. She grinned.

“What is she doing?”

“Something stupid and reckless, I think, but that is precisely why I offered her the job in the first place.”

“They’re headed right for the weather factory!”

The weather factory was probably the most solidly-built structure in Cloudsdale, most of it made of enchanted and storm-forged materials to give it enough strength to hold industrial equipment aloft on a foundation of clouds.

Lightning Dust rode the Linnorm through the roof, barely holding on as they careened into the storm generator. Steam pipes tore free, and boilers exploded, metal fragments tearing through the monster, shrapnel opening a long cut on Dust’s right leg, right over her cutie mark. She slipped, and the Linnorm pulled up out of the dive, fighting for altitude.

Unfortunately, it aimed poorly, hitting a tank of liquid oxygen. Under no circumstances would this be a good thing, but it was a particularly poor thing to hit given the raging fire, which the oxygen was very excited to meet.

“By Celestia’s golden throne, I felt the shockwave from here!”

“Mm.”

“You’re smiling?”

“I’m impressed by her ability to improvise.”

“You say that like she’s still alive after that!”

“Funky, look! Something’s coming right for us!”

Everything was on fire. The Linnorm. The air. Dust was pretty sure she was on fire, too, but she was still holding on to the steel reins, and she’d gotten her balance back. The Linnorm was starting to slow, getting more sluggish.

As the smoke and flame cleared, it was obvious why. It was like a kite that had been ravaged by a dog, the exploding boiler and flames having torn its wings to ribbons. It was barely gliding now, leaving a contrail of blood and shed scales as it careened through the air on momentum alone.

Dust grinned and tugged it to the right, aiming for the stadium.

“Whatever it is, it’s like some kind of black comet!”

“Is she really- hmph. At least I’ll be able to examine it.”

“Stars, she’s riding it, folk! It looks like she’s holding onto some kind of rope around that monster’s neck! My feathers, that thing is burning up! It’s trailing flames like a rocket! I have no idea how it’s staying in the air folks, but it’s coming in hotter and faster than anything I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“I calculate the decaying glide angle is going to take her through the bleachers. I suggest anypony in the cheap seats immediately evacuates.”

“Folks, get out of there! Get out!”

“Oh Celestia! She’s just put it right through the bleachers and taken out half the stadium wall! Oh the equinity! There was no way to get out! It’s a terrific crash, ladies and gentlestallions! It’s smoke and it’s in flames now and I can hear the screaming from here!”

“I’m going!”

“Fire Streak just left us, I think he’s going- yes, he’s going out there to help get ponies out of that rubble! The monster has come to a standstill in the middle of the field, and I can’t see anything through the flames, but it’s just laying there, a mass of smoking wreckage. Everypony can hardly breathe and talk and the screaming-”

“Mm. I can see movement.”

“It’s- yes, it’s Lightning Dust! And she’s dragging something behind her! It’s the monster’s head! She tore it off! What a horrible sight!”

“It’s the only way to be sure.”

“And she’s- yes, she’s crossing the finish line, folks! She’s actually finishing the race after all that! And in second place!”

“Second place?”

“How did that count as second place?!” Dust demanded, looking at the silver medal.

“Miss Derpy Hooves beat your time by almost a full minute. Apparently she never noticed the monster attacking the course,” Sparkle said. She sounded amused. “She seemed surprised by all the commotion at the end.”

“I killed a monster! I should get extra points!” Dust huffed.

“Unfortunately, according to the Cloudsdale Games rules, slaying monsters does not give you extra time for the marathon,” Sparkle noted. “It does, oddly, count in the freestyle sky ballet. We should have had you enter that.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“You did get one extra trophy to take home,” Sparkle noted, looking at the head of the Linnorm. “If you ask nicely I’ll have Moondancer help you mount it up on the wall.”

“That’s not a bad idea… think we can have it with its mouth open, like it’s gonna bite ya?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“You’re in a weirdly good mood.”

“Mm. We got a lot of good data, and you saved the Cloudsdale games from a monster. What’s not to be happy about?” Sparkle huffed. “Even if we aren’t ever allowed to attend or compete again.”

“We’ll find some other event to crash. Maybe your next candidate can test her powers at the Grand Galloping Gala.”

“That would be amusing. Speaking of which, I do have somepony in mind. Have you ever heard of Sunset Shimmer?"

“Who?”