Flash felt sick. Sunset…she couldn't be…

His brain refused to finish the thought. She had to still be alive. She was too stubborn and determined and had too much passion for life to be taken out this way. And the girls…they weren't going to just surrender…they would go down fighting too…

Next to him, Lyra was shaking and pale, tears in her eyes as she clung to Bon-Bon’s side. Across the room, Trixie looked…numb. Not even shocked, just numb, and Snips and Snails sat in a huddle in the corner, neither hiding the fact that they were ugly-crying. The cluster of Crystal Prep students with them looked worried and concerned and afraid.

“…I can't believe it,” Bon-Bon whispered hoarsely. “She survived the formal. How…what did that bitch do?”

“Magic,” Trixie said. “It was an artifact and a spell. It was…attacking Sunset’s magic. Given what we know, what she has said…” Her voice was empty of any inflection, lacking ego and bombastic projection…just a tired, scratchy sound heavy with grief. “…if it destroyed her magic…it may well have killed—”

“No,” Flash said tightly. “I will not believe it. Not until I see her body cold with my own eyes. Sunset is tougher than that. Tougher than all of us. She’s got everything to live for right now…and she wouldn't abandon Twilight. You haven't seen them together. I have. She won't just give up on that…and if magic is real and it can make teenage girls into monsters and heroes, turn a pony into a human, and connect worlds together…then it can mean Sunset is alive.”

Bon-Bon slumped. “…I don't know if I can believe that, Flash. Not…if what they say was true. We have to be…realistic. This is real life, not some movie from the eighties.”

At her side, Lyra wiped her eyes. “…no…he’s right, Bonny. Magic is amazing, and look what it's already done.” She paused. “And…I’ve seen her with Twi too…she won't abandon her.” She reached up and touched her girlfriend’s face. “Sunset will fight to get back to her…just like I know you’d fight to come back to me.”

The pair went silent, staring at each other in a way that was a little uncomfortable to watch. Finally Bon-Bon nodded. “…I would,” she admitted, “fight Death barehanded to get back to you.”

It seemed to stir Trixie too. “Then it's time we make sure Sunset can do that. The Great and Powerful Trixie is ready to do her part.”

At that, the door to their room crashed open, and weapons were immediately turned on the hulking figure that filled the doorway.

“Iron Will is glad to hear that! Because Iron Will brought presents!”

Coach Will stepped in, and set down a massive trash bag on the ground with a heavy THUMP. The teacher—already massive at nearly seven feet tall and the physique of a professional linebacker—was larger than ever, as he was wearing modified football equipment that had…iron strips, plates, and spiked welded to it, and the football helmet on his head sported two shining metal bull horns. He leaned the biggest, nastiest looking sledgehammer Flash had ever seen inside or outside of a video game against the wall. He was even wearing modified steel toed boots, with metal spikes sticking out of the toes and what seemed to be metal studs in the treads, like a pair of homemade cleats. “Good leaders don't hide when the squad goes to war!” he barked. “So you need armor! And weapons! Luckily, Iron Will has prepared for this!”

More sports equipment was retrieved and passed around. Football pads, soccer shin guards, even old catcher’s gear that had probably been lying forgotten in the gym’s storage since Flash’s dad was a kid, had all been repurposed, with bits of iron, steel, or wood attached here and there, creating barriers against the bronze looking blades the monsters seemed fond of carrying. “This is…wow, Coach. You did all this?”

“Sure did. Here. Put this on, protect your grape.” A helmet for hockey went on Flash’s head. “And since you lot are representing the students...you get special weapons! Mister Sentry!” A modified nail gun was pressed into his hands, a roll of nails already loaded on what looked like a feeder attachment like some kind of toilet paper roll in a box. “Should get decent range, and I know you're a good aim—still sad you won't join the baseball team, son. You’d be a decent pitcher.”

Flash took the offered tool-turned-weapon, and familiarized himself with it. Those iron nails looked pretty sharp, but being only an inch long meant that they would be painful against a human at a short range but unlikely to be super deadly in most places on the body. That was good, since some of the enemy were possessed people his own age, not monsters, and minimizing the harm inflicted was good for his conscience. “Thank you, sir, and I’m sorry no…I just don't have time to commit to the team—too many other responsibilities.”

A big, meaty hand patted his shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. “Good man, Mister Sentry. An honest man keeps his word!” Then he turned to Lyra and Bon-Bon. “Miss Heartstrings! Iron Will knows fighting is not your thing, but this is something you can pass off as a tool!” He presented her with a crowbar, with metal ridges added to the side of the hooked head, and the tips sharpened to razor edges. “Gold and silver plated steel on the sides, in case whatever you hit can only be hurt by one of those, and the whole thing is iron, which Iron Will hears works well on the ones with pointy ears! And to go with it…” he presented her with…

“Is…that a trashcan lid?” Fleur De Lis asked incredulously.

Coach Will beamed, showing white teeth. “It sure was! Now it's a custom Iron Will Shield! Fixed the handle up, and added a wooden disk to bend the edges around—should give it more resistance against those oversized steak knives they’re carrying!”

Before that could properly sink in, he turned to Bon-Bon. “Iron Will has met your daddy, girl, and he knows all about how your deadliest weapon is your hands! So Iron Will made you these!” He produced a pair of gloves, the leather fingerless kind favored by bikers, except these had brass knuckles sewn to the end of the cut off ‘fingers.’ And welded to the knuckles, some four or five inches longer than the glove itself, were long, thin blades that looked like Coach Will had repurposed some kind of knife blades. “It doesn’t look like much, but these should give your punches some real kick!”

Both girls stared, but accepted the new gear, and Bon-Bon pulled the gloves on, flexing her hands and feeling how the blades and knuckles affected her grip. “Huh. I can work with this. Thanks, Coach.”

By now, Flash was insanely curious as to what he would give Trixie—the gym coach was about the only other person in school that came close to matching the stage magician for in-your-face personality and bombastic showmanship. It would have to be something pretty spectacular and well matched to top the man’s own ‘zombie apocalypse armor,’ or that modified sledgehammer.

He was not disappointed.

Coach Will pointed a finger at Trixie. “You! Lulamoon! Do you think this is Harry Potter? No! This is no place for waving around a little stick that makes rabbits come out of hats or turns into flowers for your boyfriend!” His hand reached into what Flash had privately dubbed ‘Iron Will’s Murderbag’ and pulled out a wrapped item that was almost six feet long and presented it to Trixie. As she unwrapped the cloth covering, Flash realized that it was wood. Dark wood, fairly straight over all, but with a gnarled and twisted pattern, polished and sanded until it almost seemed to shine on its own, and inlaid with gleaming threads of gold and silver like tiny streams of water cascading down its length. At the top, where it looked like the original root had been torn from the tree, the spreading, curling, grasping pieces had been shaped and polished and worked to enclose an iridescent, polished hunk of glass or crystal, its irregular faces smooth and shimmering in the dim lighting of the old storage room in shades of blue, purple, green, and teal…it reminded Flash of a few pieces of carnival glass his grandmother liked to display.

“A real wizard needs a staff!” Coach Will proclaimed. “And you're a real wizard, aren't you, Lulamoon?!”

Trixie was gaping at the work of art in her hands. “…y-yessir,” she stammered, her fingers ghosting over the surface of the staff.

“Wow,” Snips said, still snotty and wet faced from sobbing. “…that's…really pretty.”

Bon-Bon leaned over, murmuring, “I suppose she could hit people with the bottom end real hard?”

The magician overheard her, and snorted. “Nothing so cheap and brutish. The Great and Powerful Trixie knows exactly how to handle such a priceless gift.” She gripped the staff with both hands, lifted it, and brought the silver capped base down with a ringing sound on the cheap flooring.

And vanished with a popping sound.

She reappeared a split second later on the other side of the room, smiling brightly, and ignoring her astonished peers, she inclined her head to the delighted gym teacher. “You have the endless gratitude of the Great and Powerful Trixie for this, Coach Will. And that of the House of Lulamoon. After this is over, Trixie will speak to her father—perhaps we can do something to imbue your weapon with magic of its own?”

“Iron Will thinks that is acceptable!” the big man boomed.

The group of Crystal Prep students, recovering from seeing Trixie perform actual magic before their very eyes, exchanged a look. Gael cleared his throat. “You…got any extras in there? I’d rather go out fighting than hiding in the janitor's closet that time forgot.”

His sister snorted. “Sounds like iron does them in. You could just kick them with one of your legs.”

He rolled his eyes. “Those are carbon fiber, aluminum and titanium,” he replied back. “Not much good if we’re fighting elves or faeries or whatever other magical creatures are allergic to iron more than you are to peanuts.”

“I, too, would like to be able to defend myself,” Fleur said firmly. “You have spoken of Rarity, and if it is the same Rarity Belle who is quite the talented tailor, she and I are old friends. If she is fighting for me…then I would like the chance to return the favor.” She paused. “Plus…I feel like I…should have stood up to the treatment Twilight Sparkle has received over the years, rather than pitying her and watching it happen.”

Flash studied her, before nodding. “I get that. I…had some bad blood with Sunset back in November…and I stood by and let bullying happen because I didn't want to help her…and I’ve regretted that decision ever since.” He stuck out his hand. “Welcome to a trial run of being Wondercolts—after this, I’m sure Principal Celestia will take you all in a heartbeat.”

Bon-Bon snorted. “She’d do it just to spite CPA and Cinch, if nothing else. Today is certainly showing off why CPA is our rival.”

Coach Will laughed. “Iron Will has plenty of toys! Can any of you hit a home run?” He pulled out several baseball bats that he had driven iron spikes through. “Or have a fondness for tennis or home ec?”

The students all cringed at the very idea of what kind of deadly weapon could be made from a tennis racket or a frying pan under the creative mind of Coach Will.

Scowling, Cranky was rooting through the trunk of his ancient station-wagon. “I know I put the blasted thing in here somewhere!”

Nearby, lurking in a blind corner between three trucks, his student teacher leaned against the bumper. “Don't tell me the dementia is setting in already, old timer,” she said dryly.

“Hardly…I just expected this to go completely sideways and for a bunch of children playing with things they don't understand to need real help.” He really hated being right, but there was also a part of him that wanted to tell Sunset Shimmer off for getting involved with magic in the first place. Then he felt guilty and uncharitable for having that reaction to one of Pinkie’s little friends. At the heart of it, he desperately wished Pinkie had not gotten involved at all.

Dawn Wings arched a brow. “From the sound of everything, the students are doing just fine, and that the biggest problem was that the other side opened up with a sneak attack and got lucky.”

He grunted sourly and shoved a crate out of the way. “And this wouldn't have happened at all if Sunset Shimmer hadn't meddled with magic she doesn't understand to begin with. Stupid girl got it into her head that she could be some kind of powerful wizard and caused all of this, because she’s got no clue about the first thing about magical nonsense. So it falls to me to pick up the pieces for her kicking the local faerie lord’s dog.” He had no idea what exactly Sunset Shimmer had done to piss off the local faeries so badly, but it had to have been huge. For the most part those ugly bastards kept to themselves. “Magic is dangerous, and an amateur mucking around with forces that are ancient and well beyond the ability of a teenager to handle with any measure of restraint and prudence is a recipe to get people killed!”

“You…really haven't listened in on any of the meetings Luna’s been having with the Rainbooms and the leaders of the student defense group? You're getting sloppy in your old age.” The young woman sounded far too amused for his good or hers.

Looking through one of the duffle bags of supplies, he paused to scowl over his shoulder at her. “I had papers to grade—and Heartstrings is always going on about Sunset Shimmer’s magical power, so I have no need to listen to her stroke that girl’s ego for an hour three times a week. Besides, you're looking to tell me something you think will shock me? So go ahead. Also, over there. Hit that one with one of your darts.”

Dawn Wings glanced and hurled one of her tiny, coated iron knives right at the chest of the fae that had come out to get the man rummaging in his car. “If you had, you’d be singing a different tune.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because…she’s not some kid who stumbled over magic. She's a magical native to another dimension who ended up here, and she was a trained sorceress where she’s from. Turns out, she and the Lulamoon kid can talk shop as professionals. Only reason she hasn't shown off more is something about her body here messes with her spellcasting.” The woman flicked some more knives at the fae, even after it fell to the ground and began to seize from the ferrofluid she had coated the small blades in getting into its bloodstream. Or whatever those long eared menaces had for blood. “That mess at the formal was her trying to get herself magic she could use.”

His fingers closed around the hilt he’d been searching for, and he drew the ancient blade from the depths of his car with a ringing metallic sound. “Great. So she wasn't a complete beginner, and she brought her problems here instead of leaving it where she's from. She’s still out for the count while we’re cleaning up her mess.” Yeah, maybe it was uncharitable, but it was his students who were now at risk wholesale from death, maiming, or worse, being carted off to some fairy hellhole where they would be slaves at best, all because Sunset Shimmer didn't look before diving off a cliff. “If she was any kind of real professional, she’d have known better.”

The student teacher gave him a long look. “And she might also be dead, dying to defend her peers all so half the teachers could talk trash about how much she upset their neatly ordered day.”

Cranky felt himself pale. “What?”

“Yeah. That's what was being talked about a few minutes ago, while you were blustering. Sunset Shimmer might be dead, and her friends held captive by some shadow man that seems to be leading the faeries. So. How big do you feel, trash talking a dead runaway from another dimension who wanted to help her friends in the only way she knew?” The teacher could feel the way those dark eyes bored into him, even as she bent to retrieve her knives.

He had no answer—he was too proud and stubborn to acknowledge the feeling in the pit of his stomach, or the guilt now slamming into him. Instead, he focused on a separate piece of information. “Pinkie and her friends have been captured?”

She arched her brow. “That's what I said. Planning a heroic rescue now?”

Looking down at the shining blade in his hand, he grunted. “My hero days are decades behind me. I was just as stupid once, just like these kids.” He swung the sword experimentally, rusty reflexes still remembering the proper form. “…but maybe there's enough left in me to help a new generation of heroes.”

Dawn Wings smirked. “Careful, teach. You sound pretty heroic there.”

“Shut up, kid, and lead the way to where they are planning to go at these faeries so we can help out.”

Three students came running around a corner in the hall, skidding to a halt next to a fourth. “Got four more coming!” the lead student panted.

Sure enough, four CPA students came around the corner in that eerie lockstep, eyes dark and shadowed. Upon seeing them, one of them hissed for them to surrender.

“Blow me, fuckers!” Dark Tide called back, giving them a one finger salute.

They came charged in a staggered, lurching run, and Tide reached over to a cord hanging next to her head, pushing a button. In an instant, the hallway began to rain, the sprinklers coming on and water soaking the Crystal Prep students. At first, nothing happened…but then they began to scream and hiss, as black goo wept from their every pore, leaked from eyes and mouths, until there was sticky goo mixed with the water on the floor and splattered along the lockers.

“Four more down,” she said into her comm. “Are we needing another reset or is this end clear?”

“Clear the freed students with the others, and regroup at the rotunda,” Bon-Bon said crisply. “Operation Rainbow Cavalry is a go. All teams, repeat, Rainbow Cavalry is go. Rotunda in five for Teams Alpha through Foxtrot, any duplicate teams in safe zones, and any teachers willing to fight. Restock from supply drops and meet us there.”

Tide’s eyes narrowed. “On our way, Command.” She glanced at her teammates. “We’re going Rainbow Cavalry, gang. Pick these four up and we’ll drag them to the cafeteria and pick up Applejack’s grandmother and brother after we drop them off. That old lady is madder’n hell, and apparently Mr. Pythagorus is antagonizing her, if what Rose said during her last update is to be believed.”

One of her teammates snorted. “He’s such an ass.”

“He’s had it out for Sunset since we got back from break,” Caramel grumbled, helping drag one of the CPA students into a supporting half carry as the disoriented boy blinked blearily at his surroundings. “Don't worry,” he told his charge. “You're gonna be okay. We’re taking you to someplace safe, where you’ll get a drink and someone will explain what's going on. Deep breaths and just put one foot in front of the other for me.”

A Crystal Prep girl waved off Carrot’s assistance, pulling herself up stubbornly under her own power. “I’d appreciate an explanation as to why I am in a back hallway covered in…” Her nose wrinkled at the smell of the goop clinging to her. “…whatever this is.”

Tide watched her carefully. The band on her wrist showed she was clean of possession and she wasn't in disguise, so she figured the mask of deliberate emotional neutrality was a personality thing. “Your school’s run by evil monsters and they were using most of you as magic meat puppets for some kind of possession by…well. Not sure if they’re shadows or demons or spirits or whatever, but holy water makes them pop like giant zits and vacate the host. We hosed you down, and got rid of your passenger. You're welcome.” She motioned for the group to start walking and took point with her own super soaker.

“…I see. And you were…prepared for this?”

Next to her, Caramel laughed. “Not our first rodeo. We had a she-demon at the Fall Dance and magic singing sirens at our musical showcase. Demons and dark elves at the rich prep school are basically not a surprise…besides, we had warning there was magic at your school.”

The girl was silent for a while, lost in thought as they trekked to the cafeteria. That was where they had been bringing the freed CPA students, where Granny Smith was overseeing a good portion of the teachers who were too chicken to fight. The students guarding the doors nodded and let them in, and they staggered in, right into the middle of a…situation.

Mr. Pythagorus, the math teacher, was on his back, face looking like he’d just gone several rounds with a pro-boxer. Blood covered his face, streaming from a nose that was definitely broken and from his mouth as well. He rolled slightly, spitting blood and what was probably part of a tooth on the floor, and the glare he sent upwards would have looked more impressive if one of his eyes wasn't already squinting from swelling around the socket. Nearby, several senior boys and at least two male teachers were holding Applejack’s brother back, having just pulled him off the downed man. His face was practically purple with rage, but the senior’s voice was deadly calm. “Say it again,” the senior growled, his voice a bass rumble that was felt as much as heard. “Ah dareya.”

Dark Tide immediately leaned over to Lily and Rose. “What the fuck happened?”

Rose looked on the verge of tears and Lily looked like she was about to go help Big Mac rearrange the teacher’s face. “That…that bastard!” Lily explained, “He’s glad Sunset might be dead!”

“Oh fuck…” Tide could feel the temperature in the room plummet as she realized that most of the CHS students were murmuring angrily. “Look…zip tie his wrists and stick him in the mop closet or something. He’s a problem, and with an attitude like that, I don't trust him not to work with our enemy.” She gave the downed man a heavy kick with her foot, right in his flabby gut. “Piece of shit. Sunset is the only reason we don’t leave you for the monsters.”

As the wounded teacher was dragged off, she turned to Mac. “We good?” He nodded. “Good. Go get your grandmother. Rainbow Cavalry is happening and we figured you’d both want to get in there and mix it up.”

“Eeeeyup.” Shaking off the arms holding him, Mac went to get his grandmother from where she was covering a side door in the cafeteria that led outside.

The Crystal Prep girl who had been asking questions before approached Dark Tide as she was talking to some of the underclassmen, giving them instructions and refilling her team’s arsenal. “You're taking the fight to the people responsible for violating my mind?” she asked.

“That's the plan. We’ve driven them out of most of the school, and now we’re going to help the girls who held off their heavy hitters.” She just hoped they weren't too late.

A nod, and then the girl asked, “You got room for one more? I dont appreciate having my mind raped and my body used as cannon fodder by some demon.”

She considered her for a minute. “Can you aim a super soaker?” she asked after a minute’s scrutiny.

“About as well as anyone.”

“Good enough. Caramel! Get her one of the backpack units!” Tide stuck out a hand. “I’m Dark Tide. You got a name?”

Her handshake was firm, and her eyes dark with simmering fury. “Penumbra…but you can call me Penny.”

“Welcome aboard, Penny.”

Author's Note

Right, so LOTs of references and some cameos in this one. Plus we're back with everyone else for a hot minute.

Starting with the title, of course. Battlefield, is both a song reference ("Love is a Battlefield" because fuck yes, 80s music), and a nod to another story in another fandom ("Battlefield", by Debbie Kluge, a Real Adventures of Jonny Quest story.)from ages back, a series that taught me that you took as long as you need to tell a good story, and people will love it. Mostly because of Flash's speech about "I wont believe her dead until I see the cold corpse with my own eyes..." thing. Anyway.

Iron Will cobbling together Mad Max/Fallout style gear for monster killing was just too much fun to not do. And "Iron Will's Murderbag" is a shoutout to a WoW guildie from ages back, who had "Mooncry's Murder Bag"--a giant burlap sack filled with anything Mooncry thought she could use to "beat a motherfucker to death with."

Do not ask too many questions about the nailgun. I had to do research on that, and what Iron Will has done is technically...HIGHLY illegal. So illegal that the type of nailgun you can do with this has been forced out of production for JUST this reason. >.> Shhh. Its okay. Flash is just shooting monsters. They arent people.

We really liked the idea of Lyra hiding behind a modified metal trashcan lid and smacking baddies with a crowbar. And Bon-Bon doing a Wolverine impression with homemade punch-daggers/fighting claws.

Trixie's staff was something I really enjoyed finally revealing. Girl needs a real weapon for magic, and what wizard is complete without his staff. Harry Potter can keep the piddly wands. I want something that I can club you with when I run out of spells.

After that, we've got more cameos, and we check in on Cranky...who clearly has opinions. Thankfully we have a borrowed cameo character calling him out on his bullshit.

And then we find out what Granny and Mac have been doing, and how things are going for the CHS people...who have apparently been cleaning house...and are about to go stage a rescue.

Next week, we'll finally see whats been going on in poor Twilight's head.

Catch you all in the comments. I think this was the bulk of the cameos out of the way. Hope everyone enjoyed seeing them happen!