In times long forgotten, before the elements of harmony found their bearers, or even before the banishment of Nightmare Moon, there was once a great evil that sought to consume Equestria and the world of Equis.

In a time where the three pony races of pegasi, earth pony, and unicorn were unified under the banner of the sisters of the sun and moon, there suddenly ignited below their hooves a glowing ember which grew ever brighter with each passing day.

Where the windigos once threatened to plunge the world into an frozen wasteland, a greater threat burned under the earth, and where the windigos fed off of the conflict that the three pony tribes created amongst themselves, so did the entity below grow ever stronger with each sinful act committed by the ponies in their new "united" kingdoms.

Pride, envy, gluttony, greed, lust, sloth, and wrath. These seven sins were what fueled the creation of a race all its own, of creatures who craved only destruction and suffering for all, and for their unholy desires and the dark abyss from which they were birthed from, they were given the name Tartarians.

The tartarians desired nothing more than to cause endless pain and suffering. With each day, as their numbers grew, so did their lust for domination and destruction. And on one faithful day, their wish would be granted.

Discord, Master of Mischief and the very embodiment of chaos itself, appeared before the tartarians and proposed an offer. In helping him spread chaos throughout the lands of Equestria and beyond, he offered them a chance to invade the surface, a chance which the tartarians instantly accepted. And on the day which chocolate milk rained from the skies, the tartarians unleashed their forces against Equestria.

In a few mere weeks, almost all of Equestria was in ruin. Its cities destroyed, its once vibrant landscapes reduced to ashes, and many of its pony inhabitants now dead or imprisoned. And despite their best efforts to combat the near endless hordes of the tartarians, the co-rulers of Equestria, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, feared their defeat was inevitable.

Yet in what was likely to be their final hours, they were visited not by some hero born out of prophecy, but by Discord, seeking a truce.

Yes, that's right, the spirit of chaos wanted nothing more than to help the ponies, a rather sudden and unbelievable turnabout that was birthed from believable reasons. For despite wanting to spread chaos wherever he went, Discord was positively shocked when he discovered his form of chaos and that of the tartarians was two completely different things. Horrified by the absolute evil of the tartarians, he begged them to stop, to which their outright refusal and eventual betrayal lead him to instead seek the aid of the princesses.

Though they were initially enraged by the draconequus's absolute foolishness, a foolishness which had promptly called for a immediate ragdolling of his body against every surface imaginable, along with several magic rays to the face, the sisters eventually accepted his help and with their combined might, the forces of Equestria once again pitted battle with the forces of the tartarians.

For three bloody years, a great war was waged between the ponies and the tartarians' hordes. To the ponies and their princesses, their foes went by many names, such as monsters, tartarus-spawns, and most commonly, demons. These abominations of fire and flesh constantly fought the ponies wherever they could. And whether it was due to luck or a misstep by the tartarians, many other races like the griffons and even the dragons allied themselves with the equestrians in hopes of putting an end to the tartarians once and for all. And did they. In the last days of the war, the equestrians and their allies had managed to push back the tide of the tartarians all the way to the gates of Tartarus itself. With their combined might, power, and magic, the forces of Equestria wiped out the tartarians at their source, ending the war and bringing peace to Equestria.

But with the war at an end and the allies of the ponies having returned to their respective lands, the princesses now faced many more pressing issues.

Despite his help in the war, the ponies still demanded Discord pay for unleashing the tartarians upon Equestria. But rather than sentence him to death as many of the ponies demanded, the princesses (mostly Princess Celestia) decided to instead forever encase him in stone, a punishment which was eventually accepted by the masses.

Following Discord's imprisonment, the princesses then set about to rebuilding Equestria, offering shelter and comfort to those who suffered the worst before and during the war. Cities were rebuilt and countless laws and reforms were also passed by Princess Celestia in the following years to ensure that peace and order would forever remain and that all her little ponies would know peace for generations to come. But with such a peace in mind, Princess Celestia also had to commit to less-appropriate means of insurance.

By her decree, all written works relating to the war or to the Tartarians was forcibly confiscated by the royal guard and was either locked away or simply destroyed. Talking about the war or of the demons was also heavily discouraged and in some cases resulted in punishment or imprisonment.

But despite all this censorship, Princess Celestia knew it would help her ponies in the long run, and in the grandness of it all, it did. For besides the rarest whispers, few hidden journals or diaries, and just the faintest of lunacies regarding the identity of secret underground cults who committed to sacrifices, dark magics, and the worshiping of long dead demons, Little was known and even lesser was remembered as the years became decades and those decades became a few centuries, all the while a great peace remained ever unchallenged throughout the lands.

Until Nightmare Moon that is

Yes, it seemed quite clear that such a dark chapter in the history books of the world such as this would forever remain ripped from its binding, lost in time and given only the faintest of life in legends. Yet, it should also be noted from the words of the wise, that when one story may end, another story may also begin.

“Good morning listeners! This is Tommy Rocky of Rock Radio coming at you with the tunes to start your day off right. And what a day it is today folks. Today's date is the fourteenth of July, twenty thirty-five and the weather’s looking mighty grand today with blues skies expected all through next we-”

The DJ was suddenly cut off as a hand came down on top of the digital clock he had been broadcasting from with a click, followed by a low groan. The hand receded and was set to massaging the face of its owner, who begrudgingly began to wake from his disturbed slumber.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccck,” the man groaned tiredly, a hand still over his face. For a few moments the individual lay in his bed, eyes still firmly closed and face-massaging hand now draped over his blanket-covered stomach, contemplating whether he should remain confined to its warm and heavenly comforts for another hour...or just get the hell out. Hmm, that was a tough one indeed. So tough, that it seemed that if the forces of fate did not soon intervene, this poor soul would continue to be condemned to rotting in bliss and laziness, doomed to lay comfortably in his bed for all eternity. Luckily for his health and sanity, which would have surely melted to nothingness as his body succumbed to the clutches of the mattress, fate had saved him the only way it could, with righteous intervention.

*fwup*

That “righteous intervention” of fate just so happened to be the man’s pet lizard, which had taken it upon itself the task of liberating its master the only way it knew how, by jumping from the nearby nightstand and onto his face.

*thwup*

“Huuh?” broken from the mental confines of decision-making by a surprise attack on his face, the man cracked an eye open and was met with the almost paper-thin slit of a black and red reptilian eye staring back. Now while such a sight would have sent just about anyone else five feet into the air, such an occurrence was practically routine for the man as his only response was a slight raise of the brow.

For a good thirty or so seconds, the man simply continued his one-eyed staring contest with the reptile, knowing full well that the damn things don’t have eyelids and could probably stare down death itself and still win. Finally the man sighed, closing his eye in tired concession to his pet’s victory.

To lose against a lizard that still hisses at its own reflection, a sad day for mankind indeed, the man thought.

Yet as the man silently shamed himself, he felt something thin and wet wipe against his eyelid, a feeling the man instantly identified as being licked by his lizard. That gloating bastard. With ease, the man plucked his pet by the softer hide of its neck between thumb and index finger and raised him slightly skyward, halting any further tongue-play by the lizard. Now fully awake, the man finally opened both his eyes and got a decent look at his attacker. With what light the sun managed to coat the bedroom, despite the vain attempt of the curtains to actually block said sunlight, the man was able to get a good look at the little hellspawn that dangled in his grasp.

“And good morning to you too Diablo,” the man deadpanned, trying and failing to suppress a yawn from escaping him. “You just love to cause me hell every chance you get, huh?”

The aptly named Diablo blepped at him, which could have either been a fairhearted reply, a sly remark or an insult to his mother. He would never know.

Diablo was a strange creature afterall, though he was an armadillo lizard on paper, he was certainly not like the rest. His spiked skin was almost a jet black, a far cry from the normal tones of brown others came in, his red eyes with black slitted pupils a complete opposite to the orbed ones that his fellow reptilians sported, and with the addition of two spikey scales that were situated above and behind his eyes and to which curved upwards just enough to be mistaken for horns seemed to complete the whole "hellspawn" look that inspired the man to name his pet reptile such.

With yet another sigh, the man placed his cold-blooded companion onto the nearby nightstand before throwing blankets off himself and setting feet to the carpeted floor below. With a grunt, he was up and moving to his walk-in closet where he stood deciding which shirt amongst the literally dozen or so, exactly the same, white dress shirts he should grab. After a solid minute of hmmmm-ing, the man shrugged and after grabbing one randomly, he then turned to the other side of the closet and repeated his earlier dilemma, this time with the shirts now having been replaced with a row of the exact same pair of black dress pants times a dozen. After that whole ordeal was dealt with, the man, now well dressed, made his way to the bathroom but stopped when he was met with a mighty obstacle. His lizard, standing in between him and his destination.

Looking down at the little guy, he tried to slowly step over him when a tiny hiss of absolute death halted his advance. When the man tried to instead go around the teacup-sized demon denying him safe passage, the same verbal warning was reissued and the man, slightly exasperated, sighed.

“Do we really need to do this EVERY time I go to the bathroom?” the man asked, to which his lizard kindly responded with another hiss, thus confirming the man’s suspicions.

Sighing, the man knelt and extended an arm out to which the little lizard scrambled up with great speed. Once the reptile was as comfortable as a lizard his size could be riding on the shoulder of its human owner, the man stood and walked into the bathroom, switching on the light in order to properly see himself.

A man in his late thirties, dark brown eyes and warm black hair stared back at him as he began getting ready for the day while his lizard dealt with business of it’s own. With a hiss reserved for only his most hated enemy, his own reflection, the reptile began throwing his usual threats and other verbal lashes at his mirrored self while his owner went off to use the toilet, having earlier placed the livid creature on the sink counter before it got the idea to launch a preemptive strike from his shoulder and probably hurt itself.

Coming out thirty minutes later, the man was met with the sight of his lizard slumped beside the edge of the sink, tongue lolled out of its mouth and little chest rising and falling. An adorable sight that the man couldn’t help but chuckle at.

“Another stalemate again, eh?” the man joked, picking up the little spikey ball of defeat that his lizard would turn into when things didn’t go his way. With tail in mouth, the lizard seemed to squeak with just the slightest hint of pissed off, eliciting another chuckle from the man as he carried off his pet.

“Heh, don’t worry Diablo. Good old Richard’s got your back.”

With lizard in hand, Richard exited the bedroom and entered the main area of his high rise apartment, scratching himself with his free hand as he yawned all the while.

Looking first at the kitchen area and all its modern appliances to the living room across from it, separated by the long L-shaped couch that faced towards the entire wall of glass window which bathed the room in morning rays and the giant wall mounted flat screen that seemed to beckon him to it. Tempting, but first things first.

Strolling into the kitchen, Richard plopped his little lizard onto the counter before opening his fridge and retrieving the items that would start his morning right, a can of soda and some leftover Chinese takeout still in its little white box from the night prior. Hell yeah.

A few minutes later and Richard was now sprawled comfortably on the couch with steaming food in hand and soda nearby. Grabbing the remote, he flipped on the TV and after a few moments of channel surfing, Richard was soon eating away while the woman from the news filled him in on the latest topics.

“...and the puppy was later awarded a medal for his bravery by the chief of police himself.” The anchor finished. “In other news, tensions continue to steadily rise between the United States and the UCCP in what many government officials are dubbing the ‘Second Cold War,’ isn’t that right Ron?” The woman turned to her partner and he nodded.

“That’s right Lorran,” he said, turning to the camera. “And things have only become more heated ever since the last round of peace talks between President Samuel John and President Ivan Ivanovitch Ivanovsky ended in shambles after President John had made a rather crude joke regarding sexual intercourse between President Ivan’s full name and a quote unquote "Generic Russian name generator." He and his fellow newscaster then proceeded to chuckle a moment before the two quickly stopped and the male anchor continued his spiel. “Ahem, in fact, I do believe we actually have footage of that whole incident, can we play some of that back?”

The scene of the calm and semi-professional newscasters was suddenly replaced with one of pure chaos before Richard’s eyes. What looked to be a large domed room was filled with a cacophony of noise which seemed to be focused mainly in the very center where two suited men were being held back at opposites sides by groups of similarly dressed men, who were all adding to the growing noise with their incoherent shouting. As the camera covering the whole thing zoomed in specifically on the two men in the center, Richard could only look on and listen in utter bemusement as a very heavily accented man’s voice was picked up through his TV’s speakers.

“Ublyudok, suka, how dare you make fun of name! My mother gave me name, and you dare mock it?!?!” the very pissed off man spat. No seriously, he was practically foaming at the mouth as his five guards physically struggled to hold the bald, red-faced, raging Russian man back. All the while the other man stood calmly, sleeking back his blonde head of hair (which was definitely not a wig) and grinning ear to ear as if he had told the best joke ever. His guards were also not so much holding him back as they were standing defensively between him and the man who strangely kept trying to reach for something in his suit but was suddenly stopped when he was tackled to the floor by about another twenty guards, including the five that had vainly tried to keep him in check by themselves.

It was at that moment that the video ended and was replaced by the newscasters, who had apparently been laughing at something. The male newscaster coughed in his hand and then said “Well following the failure for peaceful conclusions at that session a week ago, the White House has remained quiet and no further comments have been made by President John or President Ivan. And now onto the weather, James how are we-” the man was cut off as Richard switched the TV off and sighed.

“...Well, that was something. What did you think of all that, Diablo?” Richard asked his lizard compadre who had at some point climbed up on his shoulder. The lizard in question hissed and Richard chuckled. “Yeah, I could go for some video games after all that, good thinking.” With a scritch to the chin that earned him a happy squeak from his happy little lizard, Richard switched on his PS6 and went to the cabinet below the TV to recover a game from his collection. After having found one of his personal favorites, he let the ‘Fallout New Vegas: Remade and Remastered’ disc slide into the console and grabbed his controller.

Ahh, now this game was a real classic. Though it was not the original that Richard had played when he was little, it was just as good, if not better than the original. Better graphics, a plethora of DLC's and a bunch of other stuff that really did the original a true service. And all that was accomplished with the help of fellow Fallout fans and an game engine of another Fallout, though Richard still wondered if it was from Fallout 4, 5, or that horrid Fallout 76: Remastered that always gave the man shivers just from thinking about it.

“Man, those were some scary few years. Anyways Diablo, lets go kill some stuff.” Richard smirked and it seemed his little lizard was just as enthusiastic to the idea, happily hopping on his shoulder as he started the game up and loaded his last save.

After a few moments, his character was loaded in and off Richard went. Minutes melded into hours as Richard traveled the digital wastes, slaying creatures and bandits alike before he finally found himself standing before the entrance of the infamous Death Wind Cavern. With controller firmly grasped, Richard looked over to his lizard and in that moment, whether it was his mind playing tricks on him or whatever was thrown into that chow mein, he swore he saw Diablo nod to him, looking just as ready as if he were going into that cave himself. With his mind finally made up, Richard nodded, but just as he entered the cavern with guns and grenades at the ready, a sudden noise from outside caught his ears.

From beyond his balcony, he heard a low wail which quickly rose in volume before dying and starting up again. Pausing, then quicksaving his game, Richard stood up from his couch and slowly walked over to his windows while the siren, now joined by several others, continued their haunting wail even louder as he slid his glass window open and stepped out onto his balcony. There he stood for a few moments confused as to why the sirens were suddenly blaring, that is until he finally took stock of his surroundings.

Across from him, he could see people coming out of their highrises and standing on their own balconies or pressed against the glass of their office buildings. Thirty stories below him, he could see people crowd the sidewalks and streets, some even standing on car roofs as the sirens continued. To Richard, Diablo and the thousands of people out and about, the question of why the alarms were going off were at the forefront of their minds.

But the reason, the horrifying reason which Richard took only a second to consider, had hit him like a tiny lizard to the face...times a hundred. It was at that moment that the screaming soon started.

Below him, Richard watched as people spilled out of cars and buildings alike, running, sprinting to wherever there was a potential shelter. Cars were abandoned, people were pushed and all Richard did was just watch. Then he heard his lizard squee something, and as he turned to look at him he noticed the little guy had his eyes on something skyward, and when Richard slowly looked up, he could only stare. At first he thought it was a plane, then he noticed the finer details. Like how It had no wings. No windows. Oh, and it was falling...rocketing...towards him. You know, the finer details.

For an entire minute, Richard stood motionless.

For sixty whole seconds, Richard watched the nuclear missile barrel towards his apartment, not even registering anything else. Nope, forget about the sirens, forget the chaos in the streets, and those seven other rockets that just broke from the clouds, fuck them too. For in that single minute, Richard was only fixated on that rocket and that rocket alone.

Until the minute passed and Richard sprung into action. Turning around, he power walked back into his apartment, sliding the window closed on his way in. Next, he went over to his kitchen and after a brief search, retrieved an expensive looking bottle of hooch, popped it open and poured it contents into a glass cup, fresh ice cubes clinking together within. Putting the bottle away, he grabbed his drink and proceeded over to the couch where once seated, proceeded to slowly sip the burning alcohol away. He then paused and looked over to his faithful companion, who still remained atop his shoulder. He saw the look in his eyes, the fear within those red spheres as they seemed to focus on him, begging almost for guidance or some sort of reassurance. What the little lizard got from its human was a smile, a lying smile but a smile nonetheless, and that was all that the lizard needed.

“What’s wrong Diablo? Did you really think a little nuclear armageddon would stop me from enjoying my Saturday?” Richard joked, giving his little friend a little pat on the head before grabbing his drink, downing the rest of it, then casually throwing the glass across the room where it shattered against the distant wall.

Sighing, Richard grabbed his controller and once he was finally comfortable enough, (knowing that it may very well be the last time he would ever be comfortable again.) unpaused the game and got right to the fighting.

Guns were fired until they broke, grenades were thrown until Richard’s character was left empty-handed, and various combinations of drugs were munched or jabbed into his character more times than Richard could care for, all the while songs like ‘Big Iron’ blared from his pipboy as loud as the in-game volume could allow, almost cancelling out the wailing of the sirens outside. Almost. But nevertheless, Richard was having a blast, probably more fun than anyone else in the world could be having at that moment too, you know, on account of it being literally in the process of exploding.

He glanced at his pet lizard and noted that he too was also enjoying the game, hissing when a deathclaw appeared and squeeing when its head was suddenly and explodingly separated from the rest of its body. Yes sirree, nothing short of an atomic holocaust could ruin this man’s, and his lizard’s, final moments of fun. That is until the game froze at the exact moment a deathclaw had just grabbed his character, had just roared in his face, had raised him above itself, and was just about to tear into his character a new asshole with its deadly (deathly?) claws still locked in mid-asshole-ripping motion.

It was at that moment that Richard wanted to say something along the lines of “Are you actually [insert unnecessarily long string of cursing and creative expletives here],” but was suddenly and somewhat rudely interrupted by a blinding light, followed by a deafening explosion seconds later.

Author's Note

Well golly gee folks. Demons, deathclaws, and pet lizards, ain't that one way to start off a story. Hope you mates enjoyed the prologue, and I hope some of you will stick around to see wherever I plan on taking this story. And while i'm open to constructive criticism, a little bit of mercy is appreciated, this is my first ever story afterall. Anyways, thanks for giving my story a read. Stay casual folks.