The Nine

The front lines. Why did I have to be here? It’s day, so this should be Celestia’s job. She should be the one hunkered behind solid steel fearing for her life. How could she trick me like this? I would make her pay for this one, and the moon incident, too, some day. But now is not the time to think about that.

“Hood thugs, head right!” I called. “Gangstas, head left!” Letting them name their platoons was the worst decision. “They’re bringing in a mortar! Take it out!” I cried, followed by the whoosh of a rocket flying past. There was a resounding explosion, and when the dust cleared, the mortar was no more. But something else was. Or possibly someone.

“Ho, Princess!” it called. “I have not had the pleasure of introducing myself to royalty” he said, poking his snout out of the presiding dust. “You may call me Kiqo.”

“No!” I almost shouted. “She had you killed. First, our best squad, then she dropped a bomb on you. How are you alive?”

“Lady Luck decided to smile upon me that day. The bomb was a dud. Now, about the reason I came.”

“Oh, yes, I know what you’re about to say. ‘Stop the killing. Genocide isn’t the answer.’ Go join your followers” I said, nodding at a group of protesters.

He cackled. “Silly Princess. You think I am that simple?” He laughed again. “I have realized the futility of that pursuit, but He tells me that you are planning to drop a bomb soon.”

“Ha! Whoever ‘He’ is, he’s wrong. The decision is up to Celestia, and she has not contacted me for counsel on the matter” I was about to go on, but a dragon tapped me on the shoulder.

Kiqo smiled eerily as I read the note. ‘Luna, as my sister and co-ruler, I need your advice on this matter. The griffins are breaking through your ranks, leaking into residential towns, and I am running out of options. We must bomb them. -Celestia.’ Her royal seal was at the bottom, confirming its authenticity.

I looked up at Kiqo in pure shock. “How?”

“That is none of your concern” he said, grinning ever wider. “What is your concern is what that bomb will do. The havoc it wreaks is more than you could ever imagine. My world was destroyed, albeit not by one, but one is still very destructive.”

“Well, obviously. That’s the point.”

He chuckled. “Of course, but I do not believe you realize the extent of the destruction. It is a lot like an octopus, its tentacles of doom reaching much farther from its central body.”

“As if. What does happen, since you seem to know so much about it?”

Instead of answering, his horn flared, and all sound was lost. Then, everything faded to black, leaving only his glistening canines, still smiling madly. Eventually, though, I could hear again. And then, I saw. I saw a town of bipedal beings. There was a flash, and a radiating explosion. Every biped near it was vaporized. The ones farther away still died, though not quite so intensely.

“See” I said to the ever present smile. “It works.”

“Oh, just wait.”

I waited, and saw the entire planet, from above, saw nukes falling everywhere.

“Everywhere you see a bomb fall is a replication of the same scene you just saw. The blast radius is wide enough that they overlap in a way that covers every square inch of the planet. One man pressed one button, and caused this.”

I could not do anything but stare in horror.

He laughed at my expression. “Yes, Princess, this is what could happen. Of course, it won’t, because the Griffin Empire does not have nuclear armaments.”

“Now is when I say ‘So, what’s the problem?’, right?”

He chuckled. “You have no obligation to do any such thing. I just prefer to be long winded. I have had no one to speak to but myself, and even I can get boring.”

“No” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

He laughed. “I like you. You’ve got attitude. Anyways, let’s look into the future, watch the paranoid ones crawl out of their holes.”

He did, and I watched as, one at a time, they crawled up from beneath.

“Wait, why is it all snowy?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Nuclear winter, dear Princess. The ash and dust raised by the bombs blocks out the sun, causing the planet to freeze. These humans will have a hard time of it, unable to grow anything, due to both irradiation and cold. But” he said, skipping to another location. “People like this are lucky enough to be in a place unaffected by radiation” he skipped forward, showing people flowing to the man, and an empire slowly building. “See, humanity, just like any life, has a natural urge to keep going. And, giving in to baser urges, they do just that. This is where your problem enters. The griffin people will no doubt survive, in small pockets, and will one day rise up. Either they will hide until you have built upon their ground, and proceed to slaughter your people, shake the trust in the empire on a basis of inability to protect its citizens, cause civil disrupt, and end in a revolt against the kingdom, or they will play the other card in their small hand. The pity card. They come into your kingdom, tell the tale of the atrocity you committed, then the community will rise up, overthrow you and your sister, denounce you two to a lesser role of only sun and moon raisings. They will elect a griffin, and that griffin will bring griffins into the palace, shutting out all ponies. The ponies will not harass him about it, simply let him do as he pleases, since he was the one whose race was killed off. When this happens, either he will drive the ponies into exile, or he will kill all the ponies.”

“And you know this how?”

“Hmm, yes. I do not believe I was clear on who ‘He’ is, was I?”

“No, you weren’t”

“Well, you see, He is the Beast of Words.”

“And you commune with him?”

“Yes, I do. He knows all things, since all things can be reduced to words. All history is recorded, in one way or another, and he winds up being omniscient. He has seen these three different timelines, yet he does not know which timeline ours will wind up being.”

“So, he’s not completely omniscient?”

“When you look at the big picture too long, you tend to forget the ink that makes it up.”

“I guess that makes sense. Still, you’re sure that this will happen?”

“Most definitely. Now, if you do not decide nuke the griffins, but continue on with the war, you will either lose, and it will turn into pony genocide, or you will win and kill every griffin. The women and the children will not be excluded, but some will hide in the bushes, escape your wrath, then the three previous scenarios will come into play.”

“So, we should surrender?”

“No, definitely not. That would end in pony genocide. And, you may be thinking that the three scenarios come back, but the griffins are heartless and thorough. But, if you get the other side to surrender, then you can safely surrender without threat.”

“So, what do we do?”

“We play games.”

“Alright, now I know you’re mad.”

He chortled. “I speak not of board games, but of mind games.”

General Hawkeye

The front line. My favorite line. I loved hearing the rockets fly past. Such a wonderful place. That is what I thought, right before I received the most disturbing message. It was a head. A griffin head. But not any griffin head. It was my wife’s. In her beak was a note.

‘This is your wife, and we have your son. Just thought I’d let you know. Either you surrender or I kill him. Signed, you and yours’ demise’

I looked up, peered through the haze of battle, and saw two shadows. There was a small shape, probably griffin, and a large shape, definitely dog by the eerie smile. The smile seemed to pierce everything. The haze, my eyelids, my mind, heart, my very soul. Just that smile told me the depths of psychosis this dog had succumbed to. I knew he would pull that trigger just for the sick pleasure of watching him die. I readied the white flag, but was stopped by a young griffin.

“What are you doing, sir? I thought our goal was to dominate the Equestrians by any means necessary.”

“Well, yes, but they have my son over there.”

He looked, and was immediately assailed by a head.

“No. No! Winnie! I said I would come back to you. Why did you get impatient?”

“See what I mean? He has his grubby paws in all our lives. So, to preserve the mental health of all the soldiers on this field, I’m just going to raise this flag.”

So I did. I let it fly high, and called back my soldiers. The dog untied my son, and he flew over to me.

“Daddy! I was so worried. Why did this happen?”

“This is war, son. This is life I lead, but will no longer.”

“Well, now that you have surrendered, I can reveal something” said the dog, coming over. “I imagine you will not believe me, but you will in time” he pulled a pistol from his holster. “I do apologize, but I think this may uncomplicate things” he said, and shot my son. “Go home, to your real family. If you refuse to, and resume the attack, I may not be so gracious as to use fakes.”

I stared at him in horror, but something told me he was right.

“But, how can I know if you actually used a fake?”

He didn’t respond, just grinned evilly and disappeared. Even when he was gone, his smile lingered, like some kind of cartoon.

“So, you flew the flag because he had a fake version of your son hostage? What happened to the fearless Hawkeye?” asked one of the soldiers.

“Oh, silly little griffin. Little do you know that if he didn’t, your entire race would be dead” said that same haunting canine voice.

“Alright, if that was who had your ‘son’, then I don’t blame you. He’s fucking creepy.”

I heard a disembodied laugh, but then there was no more sound besides the sound of various feet and wings carrying bodies and weapons home.