Celsius ~232.778

The building goes down in flames, concrete melting and flowing into the sewage as if they’re ice cream put too long under the sun. Nopony ran from inside it, of course, for survivors just doesn’t exist when Balefire is concerned.

Or maybe not, since Balefire doesn’t concern herself with anything. She just burns and burns, sucking in all ambient magic until there are none and liquefying anything she touches. Just enjoying her short existence, y’know? Not caring about her inevitable death and the ultimate impermanence of everything. The Balefire is an ignorant bastard, yet nopony ever questions her. Why, oh why, is life so unfair? Why can’t life be unfair to my advantage?

Ha! What am I saying, of course it can! Life as a firemare means that I’m physically and magically more competent than half the population combined. Look at this jaw, so easily breakable with my hoof. Even if I take off my lead-reinforced gloves, it’ll still literally break it, like you can clearly see here as the pony lay unconscious with his/her lower jaw separated from the rest of his/her body. I don’t know, the body’s already all molten now. I can’t see what reproductive organ was present, and it’s not like I care; I’m good with either.

Low buildings everywhere, bah. I need to go to the skyscrapers, see how the glass will melt.

Aboard The Salamander, shooting like a rocket without a care in the world! And here we go, fillies and gentlecolts! The tallest skyscraper in Canterlot! Watch as, in a matter of seconds, we need to resort to past tense.

...Alright, maybe minutes. But still! Look at that. Ain’t that beautiful? Reinforced 50mm-thick glass, further enhanced by the building’s arcane generator, all burning down like a popsicle on a summer noon? All those—oh, shit! Well, now that’s fallen.

Oh, boy, look at that! It’s spreading! Oh joy, oh joy! Everything’s burning now! No, c’mere, you random pedestrian! Look at that masterpiece, bright and beautiful. Under the bright sun, the off-yellow of the walls contrasted beautifully against the fire’s green-blue, no? Ah, of course, you’re not aesthetically inclined. Well, isn’t it beautiful, nonetheless? What’s that? Leave you alone? Oh, nonono, yer comin’ inside me tummy.

Gleh… Onions. I need something salty and juicy and—

What!? Oh, come on! Alright, alright, you stupid octirosene tank! I’ll let you replenish. In the meantime, why don’t we overlook the street from high above?

Oh… beautiful. Look at all those ponies, screaming and galloping like their pants are on fire, despite it’s their tail that’s melting. Wow, that one looks delicious! ...nah, I’m not coming down there. The view from up here is too good. Look, I can see my former house from here! And the fire department!

Oh, right, that thing. I need to kill everypony I know and love, don’t I? Sigh, all in a day’s work.

“Good afternoon, firemares!”

“It’s morning, Sunset.” Rainbow, that prideful son of a bitch, raises her eyebrow. “What have you been burning? You seem excited.”

“A lot!” I flash her a smile. “And there’s another in the waiting line. Want to take the honor?”

“You’re unusually cheerful today, Sunny. What happened? An amazing anniversary with your wife? Acknowledging the uncaring gaze of the cosmos and how utterly amazing it is for a creature so insignificant as us can comprehend this much of the universe? Or maybe you did the thing with your wife?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “If so, tell us all the details.”

I giggle. “Why don’t I show you, instead?”

Spitfire’s sound comes, “Woah, woah, no such thing in the office, young missy!” She winks mercilessly at the reddened yellow blob of Fluttershy. “Outside, though, s’all good.”

I took the Balefire flamethrower from the passenger seat of The Salamander. “Nah, just stay still.”

And there we go, all melted and ready for s’more. The octirosene tank underground will shortly explode, though, so I better hit the gas right away. Just after I take a taste of—goodness, Rainbow Dash tastes so good! Alright, I’m taking you with me. There’s a jar here, alright, now in with the Liquid Dash… Rightgottago!

Boom!

-shakalaka. Goodness, I wish I could listen to a song right now. I need something portable if I want to do so while burning the rest of the city down, though. What can I—

My hoof met an airpod in my uniform’s pocket. Seems like Celestia really meant it when she said she valued our privacy.

“Sweetie…” Well, no good lamenting her death, now. Just close your eyes, wipe away that stupid tear and remember: you still have a lot of marshmallows to cook, and a lot of campfires to light.

Forget your worries, enjoy the song. Eat marshmallows.

Speaking of, there’s one such marshmallow gaping at the sight of the fire in the fire department. Such irony. Anyway, ma’am, you mind if I ask for help? No, just stay right… there. Lower your head, yes, just like that. Now, hold still. Let me take this rebar here…

Viola, a marshmallow on a stick! Look at those eyes, goggling around like an idiot that she was. She should be grateful, I fixed her strabismus! By impaling it with a metal rod through her eyes and out her rectal cavity, but still.

And now she’s melting, oh melting~

Oops, I forgot that metal also melts under the Balefire. Oh, well, let’s see how you taste.

Bland, coarse, with a hint of rotten cheese and a bitter and horrible aftertaste. 1/10, don’t eat, it’s poison.

And the best thing about all these melting-ponies businesses is that nopony could know that the colorful pool of liquid under them was their neighbor. Nor can they know that they’re going to shortly join that state of matter.

Who’s this one again? Trixie, right, let’s see how better you are compared to Muffins. Hold still, you useless sack of cringey pride! Get back here! Oh, you asked for it…

I make a good javelin thrower, you know that? Well, you do now. With a signpost penetrating your left flank and out your right shoulder blade, it’s pretty hard to deny it. Especially that you can’t answer me! Ha!

...Minty and salty, with a banana follow-up and clean aftertaste. Huh. Maybe all that horrible taste from before came from the molten rebar after all.

Now that you’re officially the fifth horsemen of the apocalypse, that is, Arson, what’re you gonna do?

Arson, of course. That’s a silly question. So go take a ride and spit fire all the way down the country’s roads! Look at all those asphalt, melting under the burning sun and my flaming flamethrower’s nozzle! Look at all those pedestrians, running for their meaningless lives in vain! Nopony escapes the burning death I brought upon the world! I am become Arson, cooker of marshmallows!

West Canterlot is almost all burning, woohoo! Let’s dive into the remaining survivors! You there, survivor-under-a-fallen-building-debris! How do you feel about all this party? Hm? Mhm. Intense pain? Life is pain, mate! Now, what else have you got? A rebar through your hoof? Well, you sure hope that rebar had punched through your empty heart, huh? What? Yes, a pony is a big, elongated donut, with the hole coming in from your mouth and uninterruptedly going down your intestines and out your anus. Don’t believe me? Here, I’ll put this metal bar in your mouth and it’ll easily come out of your butt. See? Oh, stop the gurgling! It’s not that painful!

Well, he won’t answer me anymore. Let’s see what this guy tastes like.

Stingy and minty, but sweet.