Grim Fetlock stood behind his desk, staring out the window that framed the back wall of his temporary office. The military base erected near Sky Talon Labs was barebones but functional—not to mention far larger than it had any right to be given how quickly it had been set up. The sergeant let his mismatched eyes roam over the small cluster of massive multi-storied structures that made up the whole lab.

He grimaced as his gaze settled on one building in particular. The building in question was nothing more than a crumbling ruin, the structure unmade by the fallout of the Nova Luna's destructive crash landing. The remains of the large silver golem the titanic airship had crashed into had already been collected and shipped off to Iron Wing City to either be repaired or scrapped for parts.

Fetlock didn't know which and he didn't particularly care. He wasn't concerned about the draft soldiers and eggheads searching the other buildings either for that matter—not at the moment anyway. As he watched several ponies and griffons in hazmat suits pick through the rubble of what was once Sector C of Sky Talon Labs, his mind wandered to other, more mundane things—things not entirely related to work.

Things like magic and what it could do.

Though he would never say such a thing aloud, Sergeant Fetlock was truly amazed at how far both magic and technology had come in the years following the war. From the modern airships used throughout the Crystal Empire, Griffonia, and Equestria to the large silver golems—none of it would've been possible before Sombra's rise to power.

Take the mind-bogglingly massive dome over his head for example. Curious about the thing, Fetlock had asked one of the several dozen science types that had joined him and his elite team as part of their scour and scrub operation about it. According to them, the dome was what they called a 'magi-tech' device.

Not only was the dome large enough to stretch across the entirety of Sky Talon Labs and then some, but it could be fully deployed and ready to use in just under an hour. It also came with an artificial day-night cycle built right in somehow. If that wasn't enough, the thing was also sturdy enough to tank the explosion that brought down one of the lab's three main sectors.

In short, it was a marvel of modern magical engineering. Grim Fetlock had no idea how it all worked, but he could appreciate it nonetheless. He was no unicorn, but unicorn magic had always fascinated him even as a foal. Alas, as a thestral he had no way to harness such a thing... not until he joined Sombra's army anyway. The Special Ops Sergeant let a rare grin slip as he thought about the eye he'd lost and the brass implant that had replaced it.

Another piece of that fancy 'magi-tech'...

It wasn't pretty to look at, but that didn't matter to Sergeant Fetlock—not in the slightest. No, what mattered was what the thing could do for him. The thestral had sacrificed a lot to get where he was, but it would have all been worth it just for that little gadget alone. He would have continued ruminating on his ocular implant were it not for an urgent yet respectful knock at the door.

Fetlock sighed and returned to to his desk, seating himself in the rather uncomfortable wooden chair before grunting out a curt, “Enter.”

At his invitation, a slate grey crystal pony in a dark blue hazmat suit and military barding pushed opened the door and stepped inside. The first thing the sergeant noticed were the large rifle barrels mounted on either side of the pony. The sight made him chuckle internally. The average crystal pony soldier had no magic of their own to bring to the battlefield so, like the griffons, they used rifles instead.

It was the same for earth ponies, pegasi, and thestrals like Fetlock himself. Unfortunately, firearms were still a relatively new invention. Originally invented and manufactured by griffons, most guns were tailored for griffon use—lightweight frames for use midflight yet big and sturdy enough for a griffon's strong talons.

It was only two years ago that ponies had been cleared to use and manufacture their own firearms. Not many were in circulation now and most ponies still had to fall back on the melee weapons they'd used for centuries. While they had tactile magic to wield melee weaponry and mage units for ranged combat, guns were a different beast.

Having no talons with which to wield the things and finding tactile magic useless when trying to pull the trigger, equines had to get creative. It took some time, but eventually one brilliant stallion had solved the issue using a mechanical saddle and a series of harnesses to attach and fire rifles from either side of a pony's barrel.

The invention had officially been dubbed the “barrel-mounted firearm” or BMF for short, but most just called it a gun saddle. The saddle was made in such a way that the standard single shot rifle could be detached and swapped out for various other firearms like pistols and shotguns—though most types of guns had yet to be implemented for equines at the moment.

The ponies were still behind griffonkind where weapons were concerned but they were rapidly catching up. The gun saddle was still somewhat unwieldy and not many were currently in production, but newer models were already being made. To compensate for the lack of finesse and firepower, the mounted rifles were built to hit much harder than a standard griffon made rifle.

The higher intrinsic strength of a pony compared to a griffon allowed for higher firepower, much to many a griffon soldiers annoyance. The crystal pony in front of Fetlock, as well as the other Crystal Guards and Fetlock himself, had been granted use of such a weapon for their mission. Before Fetlock obtained his “gift”, he'd used a lighter model gun saddle in combat, but he'd since set the bulky weapon aside.

After all, he didn't need it anymore and neither did his unit. They had dark magic after all, a weapon far more potent than any gun. That had been enough so far and the sergeant saw no problem leaving firearms behind. Fetlock himself had a much stronger weapon at his disposal and even now he was itching to use it.

Again though, the sergeant had to force his wandering mind to focus on the pony before him. The stallion wasn't part of Sergeant Fetlock's elite team but rather one of the many drafted Crystal Guard soldiers assigned to search the remaining sectors for any lingering threats, be they an infected creature or sensitive information.

A griffon in the same type of formfitting hazmat suit minus the barding walked in behind him. The Iron Wing emblem printed on his suit told Fetlock that the griffon was part of the other group sent on this mission. The hen in question was a researcher, one of dozens of doctors and scientists tasked with controlling any kind of potential outbreak.

News of the virus that had turned Twilight and her friends into abominations hadn't yet reached public ears. In a joint effort to keep the virus quiet, Sombra and the Griffonian Emperor chose to send a group of soldiers and scientists to take care of the situation as quickly and quietly as possible.

Having already known about the events surrounding Twilight and the rest, Sombra had the group on standby near the lab's location. The team had been ready to step in as soon as things settled down. The researchers had set up a smaller temporary lab next to the temporary military base near Sky Talon Labs and had gotten to work within an hour of arriving.

For the last couple of days the main mission had been to locate any trace of the six viral mares who'd escaped captivity, but it quickly became evident that they'd left the labs behind. With that conclusion reached, the operation had switched to clean up and quarantine.

Fetlock had no doubts that he would be called upon to continue their search for the fallen Elements of Harmony. For now though, he was stuck here listening to reports that held absolutely no interest for him. Still, as much as he wanted to be anywhere else but here, he maintained his air of cold professionalism as he eyed his two guests.

There was a brief second of silence before the crystal stallion stepped forward with a salute. “Private Ashes here to report some urgent news, Sergeant Fetlock, sir,” he stated in a quick and diffident monotone.

“At ease, private,” Fetlock replied. He continued once he saw the crystal pony relax and set his hoof back down on the floor, “what's the word? Did Shores and her crew find out what tripped the lab's defenses?”

The private hesitated for a second, as if debating whether to continue or not. He quickly chose to speak at Fetlock's narrowed gaze. “That's just it, sir,” he answered, his nervousness hidden behind the same monotone , “We've received a report that your Special Ops Unit has returned to base but there's been no word on what caused the disturbance near the lab's perimeter.“

Sergeant Fetlock's brows furrowed in bemusement and annoyance at the news. “Just how is that supposed to work, private?” he replied after a second, his voice low and dangerous, “Are you telling me my team failed to locate the target? And why isn't Sunny Shores standing on the other side of this desk in front of me?”

“From the report, it seems the Special Ops Unit did encounter something near the perimeter,” Private Ashes replied evenly, “two members failed to return to base, and Intelligence Officer Shores has taken it upon herself to detain and question the remaining three.”

“And she didn't think it prudent to consult with me on the matter?!” Fetlock nearly snarled. He paused and sucked in a quiet breath. He closed his eyes and took a second to collect his thoughts before speaking again in a calmer tone, “it's frustrating, but considering the circumstances, I can't fault the mare for her decision.”

If his team had encountered something out there strong enough to take out even one Special Ops soldier, let alone two of them, then that was certain cause for concern. The fact that the other three hadn't reported in immediately before coming back was suspicious so Fetlock couldn't blame Sunny Shores for her choice.

He didn't feel too bad about the loss in ponypower. After all, his personal unit was made up of Sombra's brainwashed soldiers. Their dark magic implants, mental conditioning, and physical enhancements made them outstanding subordinates. That said, they were easily replaceable. In truth, the Special Ops Unit was a recent addition to Sombra's military.

Sergeant Grim Fetlock and Sergeant Shimmering Sands each led their own teams under the direct order of Commander Wispy Willows who acted as squad leader for the Special Ops Unit. While Shimmering Sands led a traditional team of highly trained veterans, Fetlock's team was different.

His team was part of an ongoing experiment by Sombra. The R&D team back in the Crystal Empire had recently developed more powerful cerebrothaumic implants that synchronized with each other when active to lessen mental strain and increase magical strength during casting.

Fetlock's team had been put together as a sort of test run for the implant. It had worked wonders so far and given the favorable results, Fetlock's unit had essentially become an official recognized part of the military. Better yet, the Crystal Empire had plenty of candidates lined up to replace any soldiers lost under Sergeant Fetlock's command.

As far as the thestral sergeant and King Sombra were concerned—and as powerful as they were—the brainwashed soldiers were entirely expendable. With all of that in mind, the fact that Fetlock lost two members of his team wasn't the issue. The real issue was the fact that they hadn't reported on their discovery at all before coming back.

This either meant that the communication sigil in their helmets had malfunctioned for whatever reason or that his team had been compromised in some way. With what King Sombra and Emperor Rödrun were trying to do here—what they were trying to hide—it was only natural to assume the worst and act accordingly.

Better safe than sorry, I suppose...

Sergeant Fetlock let the matter go for now and decided to meet with Sunny Shores and what was left of his unit once he was done here. He dismissed the crystal pony private before turning his attention to the griffon researcher. He knew the griffon.

“And what can I do for you then, Miss High Claw?” he asked in a tone dripping with false sincerity.

Audun High Claw was the Head of Research and held the responsibility of not only keeping the viral infection in check, but retrieving and expanding upon the data gathered about the virus itself. She essentially held as much authority as Sergeant Fetlock himself, though she was here moreso on the behalf of the Griffonian Emperor rather than King Sombra.

Fetlock would never admit it, but he actually liked the griffon. He found the hen's somewhat haughty attitude grating, but couldn't deny that she got things done. She also wasn't afraid to get her talons dirty if the need arose. He could respect that, and did. That said, he had an image to maintain and their relationship was purely professional in any case.

Audun huffed and drew herself up to her full height at Fetlock's disingenuous tone. She'd removed the mask attached to her hazmat suit and Fetlock could clearly see the irritation on her face, though she managed to keep it out of her tone as she spoke.

“One of our researchers and a medic have gone silent,” she stated bluntly, “we can't connect to their communication sigils and haven't been able to locate them in either of the remaining sectors where they were assigned.”

“I'm assuming you've checked the ruins and your temporary lab?” Fetlock asked, sitting up straighter in his chair and giving the head researcher his full attention.

With the report from his own subordinate in mind, Fetlock was inclined to believe the two incidents might possibly be related. He grew a little more uncertain as Audun continued speaking her next words.

“Of course we did,” the griffon scoffed, “we recall the research team twice a day to check for infection and neither Dugr Pale Beak nor Prim Rose showed up for inspection yesterday. We've been unable to find them since.”

“I see...” Fetlock frowned thoughtfully at his desk for a moment before snapping his gaze back toward Audun. “You think they've been infected?”

“I couldn't say,” Audun replied with a helpless shake of her head,”it is likely, but we can't know for sure without visual confirmation.”

“And you want me to investigate I take it?”

“Looks like someone is quick on the uptake,” Audun replied with a condescending smirk, “yes, that's right. I had intended to demand you send your little band of mind slaves to take care of the matter, but I suppose we'll have to think of something else now, won't we?”

“I suppose so,” Fetlock replied, brushing aside the researcher's mocking tone. With a grunt, the thestral stood from his seat, “...very well, I'll do what I can to find them and, if need be, put them down, but in the meantime, I need to see about getting my own house in order first, so if you'll excuse me...”

Seeing Fetlock's dismissal for what it was, Audun clicked her tongue in annoyance and turned to leave. “Yes fine, if you must,” she called back, waving a dismissive claw as she reached the door, “but I want those two found and taken care of before the day is out.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Fetlock replied, giving the researcher a sarcastic salute behind her back.

The thestral gave another weary sigh and sat back down once Audun was gone. He very much wanted to be anywhere but this Luna forsaken lab now more than ever. Everything about what had happened here rubbed him the wrong way. The experiment, the virus, the bodies those monsters left behind, none of it sat right with him.

Even as somepony who betrayed his country for power, this was too much. Fetlock, Audun, and their soldiers and scientists were the only thing keeping a potentially apocalyptic outbreak at bay, and they had technically already failed at that. Those six abominations had escaped the lab and were now somewhere out there, likely wreaking havoc wherever they went.

They needed to be found and disposed of as soon as possible, yet the sergeant was stuck here on clean up duty. Fetlock could only pray that Sombra or his Queen were already taking measures to hunt them down. He knew Shimmering Sands and his unit were busy overseeing Sombra's little mining operation, but even if that weren't the case, Fetlock doubted the oversized pegasus could get the job done.

Perhaps Commander Willows could've done something, but he'd been in Asterios for the last few weeks doing who-knows-what. Fetlock was sure it was some kind of imprtant mission, but neither he nor Sands had been given the details. Unless Sombra or the Queen had something else up their sleeves that Fetlock wasn't aware of, that just left either the Crystal Guard or more griffon mercenaries, and that hadn't exactly worked out the first time.

The hundreds of dead Fetlock and his crew had to burn was a testament to that fact. The only thing he could've taken solace in was the fact that no one had encountered another creature like those girls yet. Sure, some of the bodies left behind had shown clear signs of infection—many had actually—but all of them had been in the early stages and were easily dealt with.

Now, however, it seemed things were about to change for the worst. The suspicious behavior of his team in addition to the news of the missing researcher and medic didn't point to anything good. Maybe the two incidents were unrelated, maybe not. Whatever the case, Fetlock could feel a storm brewing on the horizon.

The thestral sergeant gave the ruined building outside his window one last pensive glance, then stood back up and made his way out of the office. He let out a quiet chuckle as he headed down the hall and downstairs toward the holding cells. If nothing else, he'd finally have an excuse to put his favorite toy to use again. No matter the situation, that was always a good time.

Heading down three flights of stairs, Sergeant Fetlock finally reached the door to the basement level where the holding cells were. He once again had to marvel at just how fast a building like this had been erected. With this kind of advancement in magic and technology, it was no wonder Equestria had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time.

Pushing his idle musings aside, Fetlock nodded to the two nameless Crystal Guards standing at attention on either side of the door leading to the basement. They saluted in turn and allowed the thestral through without a word. He continued down the steep steps, squinting slightly as the flourescent lights above slammed into his sensitive retinas.

The room was fairly large and sterile looking, with white walls and a reflective white tiled floor. The place reminded Fetlock of a modern doctor's office and he would have mistaken it for such had it not been for the rows of thick steel doors lining the walls. The sergeant had only been down here once when the base was first built, but looking at it again, it seemed more like a mental asylum than anything else.

Again, he had no idea how this had all been built so fast, but the sight made him shudder internally. Still, it wasn't the eerily clinical look of the holding cells that clued him in to the fact that something was off. It was the silence. The entire room was deathly silent save for the soft buzz of the lights above.

A cursory glance didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary—at least, not regarding the room itself. No, the problem wasn't the room. It was an issue of personnel, or rather, the lack thereof.

“Officer Shores!” Fetlock called out in his most commanding tone. He made his way deeper into the room, his mind and body alert for any sign of danger. He stopped in front of the first cell and raised himself up slightly to peer through the single slot in the steel door. He tsk'd at the sight of the empty cell and moved on, muttering, “Where in Luna's name are you, mare?”

If what I think is happening is actually happening, then I don't have time to check every empty cell in this Luna forsaken room...

A strange mix of anxiety and anticipation roiled in Fetlock's gut as he activated the thaumic implant in left eye socket. The brass eye whirred and clicked as it rolled around in its socket for a few seconds before settling back into its proper position. With a blink, Sergeant Fetlock activated the first micro sigil inscribed within the magical eye.

A copy of the same circular sigil projected itself over the eye and Fetlock swept his arcane gaze over the whole room. He grimaced after a single pass, finding exactly what he expected. There wasn't a single soul in the room except for him. It was possible that Sunny Shores hadn't arrived with his remaining unit yet, but somehow the thestral doubted that.

He blinked again to deactivate the sigil and cursed as he marched back up the stairs. He threw open the door and started down the hall, but stopped as something else poked at his perception. He frowned in bemusement as he looked around, then it hit him. Whipping back around to face the door, he cursed again and raced off to communications tower. He needed to send out a message.

Even if Sunny Shores hadn't reached the holding cells yet, he should have run into her and his team on the way at some point. There might've been some other explanation, but Sergeant Fetlock chose to go with his gut, and his gut was telling him something was very wrong.

The two missing Crystal Guards next to the basement door only served to turn his suspicion to certainty. They had, in fact, been compromised.

Author's Note

Sorry for the wait, I meant to start working on this one a few days ago, but it took me some time to figure how I wanted to go about writing this part.