Doom Slayer

by Thule117

Rating: teen
Tags: Science Fiction, Adventure, Violence, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Human, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: The Movie, Storm King, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna, Tempest Shadow
Length: 43504

Lands charred black, and rivers boiled, crops and wells alike despoiled, moutains leveled, forests felled, footprints of. . . the Beast of Hell.

(This story is a Novella taking place in the Guardian story universe. This story continues with the sequel Legion.)

Tempest Shadow had heard the rumors. Stories, told in frightened whispers by traders and wanderers, in the taverns and around campfires. The stories told of an almighty champion, a monstrous creature from far beyond the stars, that had come to defend Equestria from its enemies. The stories told it had slain dragons by the hundreds, broke the savage beasts of the Everfree like twigs beneath its boots, and torn down titans and monsters alike with its wrath. They said it wielded weapons that could turn mountains into gravel, and seas into desert. That it was clad in armor, that neither the sharpest blades, nor the mightiest magics, could pierce. The rumors said it was unstoppable, relentless, beyond the power of mare or beast to oppose, that it was. . . a god. Tempest had laughed at the rumors and stories, as she flew toward Equestria at the head of an armada, intent on the conquest of her weakling former homeland. Never once did she give the obviously absurd campfire tales even the slightest credence.

The arrogance of fools and tyrants, shall awaken the rage of a monster, and lead an empire, to its DOOM. . . .

Published 2020-10-10 14:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-03-06 15:01:35 UTC

Awakend Darkness

Author's Note

Welcome fair readers, to the first chapter of my Guardian Universe novella Doom Slayer. Truth be told, I wasn't entirely sure I would end up writing this at all. However, I've had this idea in my head for awhile, and ultimately decided it would be worth the effort. Mostly because I think you all will enjoy having a chance to see how the MLP Movie would have gone if Doomguy had been running security. And also, because I think I deserve a little cathartic release after what that movie did to my beloved Twilight Sparkle's character. Call it petty revenge if you wish, but personally, I prefer to think of it as literary therapy. At any rate, I hope you will all enjoy this little aside, and that you will have as much fun reading it, as I did writing it. Oh, and lest I forget, I wish to welcome Bronyshot2020 (formerly just Bronyshot) back to the fold as my editor, and to thank him for his stellar work on this chapter. Also, if you should feel so inclined, remember to like/comment on the story to let me know what you think of it. Now, on with the story. . . .

Awakend Darkness

Tempest Shadow was elated. Not that she'd ever display such an emotion in the presence of her troops, and her perpetual disinterested scowl was as unshifting as ever. Yet, beneath her cold, disaffected exterior, she could not possibly have felt better. She was, after all, moments away from realizing a dream decades in the making. From the moment when she had first been inducted into the service of the Storm King, and fought her way through the ranks to become his second in command, this was a moment she had endlessly anticipated. There was of course, some small twinge of lingering guilt, that she was about to aid in the systematic conquest and enslavement of her former homeland, but she swiftly dismissed it. After all, Equestria had turned its back on her first, she was just returning the favor.

"Do you think they'll have anything to eat? Conquest really works up an appetite." Asked Grubber, and Tempest had to suppress an urge to let out a groan of annoyance. Truth be told, she had no idea why the Storm King had sent the little pest along. Tempest did recall something vague about the pint-sized storm beast acting as her new herald, honestly, she hadn't really paid attention, only concerning herself with her actual orders and battle strategy.

"I'm certain there will be a kitchen somewhere to plunder." She replied, carefully keeping her gaze straight ahead. "My former countryponies always did love their sweets." Grubber rubbed his claws together enthusiastically, loudly smacking his lips.

"Yum! I hope they have cake!" He declared, and Tempest struggled not to roll her eyes.

"Just make sure you announce me properly, I don't want a repeat of what happened with the hippogriffs." She drawled, making sure to keep her tone level.

"You got it boss!" He declared, giving an enthusiastic claws up, as he once more turned his attention to the large metal door in front of them. Tempest suppressed a grin, as a savage, growling voice, spoke through a nearby communication tube.

"Docking in five. . . four. . . three. . . two. . . one." A faint impact tremor reverberated through the ship, as it came alongside Canterlot, the capital of Equestria. The door falling forward, extending into a telescoping gangplank of dark steel. Hefting the voice magnifier, Grubber moved toward the opening, the light of the sun blinding after so long in the airship's hold. As he descended, Tempest took in the sight of the city spread out before her. Looking like a set of several bunched together concentric rings, attached firmly to the side of a massive mountain. Opulent, brightly colored houses, and immaculately maintained private gardens, as well as spacious public parks, filled the rings. Each connected to one another by white cobblestone streets, or marble flagstone paths. Pennants snapped in the wind atop the conical towers and onion dome capped minarets, of the massive hunk of enchanted marble that was the royal palace. The beating heart of Equestria.

Tempest scoffed at it all, these ponies lived in literal ivory towers, while she had to scrape and struggle every second for survival out in the wastes! Any lingering sympathy Tempest might have had, died instantly at the thought, this city deserved its fate. . . . Hidden from view by the angle of the ship, and smoke leaking from the engines into the troop bay, Tempest glared at her former fellow Equestrians with cruel satisfaction. She could see the worry and fear in their eyes, perfect tinder for the flames of panic and hysteria. Currently, she could only see one princess, the youngest and weakest of the four current rulers, but she felt confident the others would come soon enough, as Grubber gave their introduction.

"PONIES OF EQUESTRIA! WE COME ON BEHALF OF THE FEARSOME! THE MIGHTY!! STORM KING!!" Here Tempest's ears twitched as she heard the faint sound of the Storm King's banner being unfurled. "AND NOW! TO DELIVER THE EVIL EVIL MESSAGE! PUT YOUR HOOVES TOGETHER FOR COMMANDER TEMPEST!!" Tempest had to struggle not to roll her eyes at Grubber's idiotic description of their moral inclinations. Maybe they were evil from the perspective of Equestria, but as far as Tempest was concerned, they were just following orders. Nevertheless, she maintained what she felt was an appropriately fearsome facade, her broken horn sparking as she revealed herself. Gasps, and expressions of shock, greeted her as she descended the gangplank, and Tempest felt an instinctive flare of anger, that she swiftly squashed. No sooner had she gotten halfway down the ramp, than the three elder princesses touched down in front of her, fixing her with fearsome glares.

"Tempest, is it?" Celestia began, her tone guarded. "How may we help you?" Tempest smiled, she was going to enjoy this.

"Ah, I'm so glad you asked. How about we start with your complete and total surrender!" She declared imperiously, as the princesses leveled angry frowns at her. Suddenly however, the fourth princess, 'Twilight', Tempest seemed to recall her name being, stepped forward.

"Hi, Princess of Friendship, not really sure what's going on, but, I'm sure we can talk this out?" Tempest gave Twilight her most unimpressed look, unable to decide if she was stupid, or just naive.

"How cute. . . ." Tempest replied dismissively, before raising her voice. "Here's the deal ladies, I need your magic. Give it up nicely please or we make it difficult. . . for everyone!" At that moment, the four princesses' expressions became like stone.

"Did you bring an army miss Tempest?" Asked Celestia, her tone oddly calm. Tempest smiled, as from several different directions, the rest of her armada appeared out of the magical smoke the Storm King's ships used to hide their true numbers. Meanwhile, behind her, ranks of storm beasts filed out from her command ship, shields and bident spears held at the ready. As the troops from her command vessel got into formation, soldiers from two of the newly revealed ships, jumped down in front of the terrified crowds of ponies. Adding their numbers to Tempest's already impressive assembly. A short moment later, she had nearly four hundred armed and armored storm beasts at her back.

"As a matter of fact, I did." She drawled, smirking at the frowning princesses.

"Is that all?" Celestia asked with a raised eyebrow, and to Tempest's utter shock she sounded almost. . . amused.

"What?" Tempest asked, feeling a flare of anger, did these stuck up princesses think this was a joke?! Then, to her stunned amazement, Twilight stepped forward, her timid look of a moment ago nowhere to be seen, as she glared angrily at Tempest.

"Look Tempest, we like to think we're reasonable ponies, that's why we're going to give you one last chance to stop all this nonsense, and talk things out." Cadence nodded, her voice motherly as she spoke up.

"This doesn't need to end in violence Tempest. Perhaps if you explain why you and this. . . 'Storm King' need our magic, then we can find a way to help you?" Tempest narrowed her gaze, as she retrieved a small mass of green crystal, from a pouch hidden beneath her mane.

"I don't think you princesses understand the position you're in. Let me help illustrate it for you." She declared with a cold smirk, as she tossed the crystal into the air. Instantly, the poisonous looking crystals were encased in a translucent sphere of swirling black energy. With an acrobatic twirl she had practiced thousands of times with everything from pebbles to throwing knives, Tempest struck the sphere with her back hoof, aiming it directly at princess Cadence. As her soldiers locked shields, and surged forward.

Tempest watched with sadistic glee as Cadence threw up a shield with her magic. It was a doomed effort, the petrification crystals had been specifically designed to punch through alicorn magic. Striking the shield, the sphere of energy pulsed and sparked, as to Cadence's shock, it began to bore through her mystical barrier. Gritting her teeth, Cadence struggled against the vile artifact, desperately trying to push it away from herself and her family, but it was no use. It was as if she was trying to hold onto a bar of soap in a bath, her magic unable to find purchase on the protective energy sphere surrounding the weapon's core. Turning, she opened her mouth to tell her aunts and sister in law to run, but the gesture caused her focus to lapse for a critical instant. As if in slow motion, Cadence saw the green crystal flare menacingly, as it shattered her shield. With glacial slowness, she saw the black energy surrounding the projectile, melt away like wax, as the stone itself streaked toward her body. Then, suddenly, from out of the corner of her eye, Cadence saw a flicker of shadow, and her heart leapt, as at the last possible second, a five fingered hand, shod in green technosorcerous armor, interposed itself between her and the crystal. . . .

A cloud of dirty green and yellow smoke obscured Cadence from Tempest's view, a second after a black and green. . . something, had reached the princesses side in a blur of movement. Then, as the cloud began to disperse, a wave of chilling dread exploded out from the thinning vapor. Instantly, Tempest felt her mind reel, as her fight-or-flight response went into overdrive. For a moment, Tempest visibly quailed, her eyes wide, and her heart thundering in her chest, as she struggled to breath. The storm beast soldiers, in complete defiance of their intensive conditioning, halted their advance as surely as if they had collided with a brick wall. Several dropped their weapons, their claws shaking, as one or two let out what sounded like whimpers of fear. Then, as the cloud cleared completely, Tempest felt her entire being suffused with terror.

Soundtrack: 10th Man Down by Nightwish

The creature before her, stood on two powerful legs, at over six feet tall, every part of him, from his head and broad shoulders, to his firmly planted feet, was covered in nightmarish armor. Facing Tempest, his face was obscured by a helmet, the tinted visor hiding his face, save for two burning red eyes that seemed to bore right into her soul. One arm, powerfully muscled, even through his armor, was extended almost casually in front of Cadence's face, black and grey crystals encrusting it from the elbow down.

"W-w-what. . . ." Tempest struggled to form words as the creature slowly brought its partially petrified arm up to its visor. Tempest watched, her voice paralyzed, as the creature observed the crystals that its arm was now made of, or rather. . . should, have been made of. As in a gesture that turned Tempest's blood to ice, the creature closed its mineral encrusted hand, shattering the crystals into glittering dust, to reveal the completely unscathed armor beneath. In a gesture that was almost dismissive, the monstrous biped threw aside its meager handful of powderized crystal, in a sparkling cloud. Turning its head, the creature glanced at a gratefully smiling Cadence, the beast exchanging a brief nod of reassurance with the Princess of Love, before turning back to Tempest, and beginning a stalking advance. Maybe it was Tempest's imagination, but she could have sworn that the very earth shook in time with the creature's steps. She was only broken out of her horror induced shock, when she heard the voices of the formerly terrified ponies begin to shout.

"IT'S THE UNCROWNED KING!! EVERYPONY!! THE KING IS HERE TO SAVE US!!" Cried one voice.

"Oh thank Celestia!" Came the relieved sound of another.

"You're all gonna get it now!" Came the angry declaration of a third.

Tempest's mind reeled. The king?! Since when did Equestria have a king?! Backing away slowly, Tempest watched as two of her soldiers, motivated by either their brainwashed conditioning, or some insane delusion they could actually win, advanced on the biped with spears in hand. In a move so fast Tempest could barely follow it, the creature appeared between the two storm beasts, before hoisting them up by their throats. The two creatures barely had time to drop their weapons, before with a simple twitch of its strangely blunt claws, the biped broke both their necks with a sickening crack. With a gesture that was little more than a flick of the wrist, the pair of dead storm beasts were hurled into the ordered ranks of their fellows, scattering them like tenpins. The armored monster fixed Tempest with a gaze that made her feel as though she was a mere ant, standing before a thousand foot tall titan. In a tone like blackest thunder, it spoke with a voice filled to the brim with inequine hate.

"What. . . is. . .this. . . HERESY?!!!!" Tempest just had time to allow her troops to envelop her with their shield wall, as the monster charged. . . .

Derran Grandel, the Doom Slayer, betrothed of the Seraphim of the Sun and Moon, coltfriend of Twilight Sparkle the Seraphim of Friendship, and Guardian of Equestria, was enraged almost to the point of losing his ability to reason. He had, in his long life, seen many injustices and cruelties that angered him, yet none before had felt quite like this. It was not just the defiance of his warning after Chrysalis's defeat six months ago, nor was it merely the arrogance and audacity of this so-called 'Storm King'. Truth be told, it was not even the invasion itself that angered him the most. No, the penultimate source of Derran's fury, the thing that caused the spirit of the Doom Slayer within him to strain against his will, and cloud his vision with red, was that of all beings, it was one of the seraphs own children that led the assault.

Derran knew the seraphim's children were not perfect, even the seraph's themselves could fall from the Light's grace, under the right circumstances. Yet, to see a pony, any pony, willingly spit in the face of the beings who loved and sacrificed for all their children, no matter how lost, beings who saw even the lowest servant as family, and who gave even a wretch like him, their unconditional love. That, filled the mind of Derran Grandel, with a rage as cold and unforgiving as any he had ever felt. Like a vile caustic poison, Tempest's actions burned his throat with bile, and set his blood alight. He vowed in that instant, that he would not stop fighting, until every last one of this wretched traitor's soldiers, lay dead at his feet. As for Tempest herself, Derran swore that she would pay for her actions here, one way. . . or another.

With a flash of scarlet and a faint crack of displaced air, Unmaker appeared in Derran's hand. Evading the clumsy spear thrusts of his beast-like foes, Derran swung the blade of black steel and glinting gold at the shield wall before him. With an almost musical tone, the blade cleaved through the towering shields as if they were made of butter. A series of agonized roars and a spray of blood, preceding the sight of three white and black furred soldiers, splitting in half at the waist. Pushing forward, the row of soldiers behind the first, found themselves slipping in a rapidly expanding pool of gore and viscera, before being sent flying in all directions, as Derran slammed into them like a cannonball. Whirling around in the midst of his enemies, Derran sent his sword whistling through the air with an almost balletic twirl. Sending seven more of his foes hurtling away, in clouds of blood and severed body parts.

Rushing forward, Derran impaled a would be attacker with his sword, before twirling inside the reach of the dying beast. Propping up the expiring monster with his body, Derran called a super shotgun to each hand, unloading all four barrels into the off balance hoard of soldiers before him. Pellets of jagged tungsten punched through hastily raised shields, to tear through flesh and pulverize bone. Turning the first two unlucky combatants into clouds of shredded meat and vaporized blood. While another six behind them, found their brains and organs perforated in a dozen different locations. Sending his shotguns away, Derran spun around to grip the hilt of his sword, still stuck in the dying former soldier. With a savage twist and a spray of blood, he tore it free through the now dead monster's body. Flesh and armor parted effortlessly, as Derran eviscerated another three beasts with the blurred arc of his blade, as they attempted desperately to rally. In his off hand, a pair of red flashes, a handful of seconds apart, preceded nearly twenty soldiers being blown into the air, by the detonation of two flawlessly aimed grenades. As blood and entrails rained down around him, Derran roared out, in a voice like unholy lightning.

"REPENT SINNERS! FOR TODAY YOU DIE!!"

"Cadence, Luna, with me! Twilight, you and your friends help escort the citizens to safety!" Celestia called out, as she smashed forty of Tempest's charging war beasts into the ground with an effortless pulse of magic. Which, while it wouldn't kill them, made certain they wouldn't be waking up for a while. Luna nodded and her horn flared, as dozens more of the monsters dropped their weapons and shields, fleeing back towards their ships amid a series of gibbering hoots and screams. As their minds were assailed by visions of their worst nightmares come to life. Cadence meanwhile, determined that Derran shouldn't do all the work this time, conjured massive walls of light refracting crystals. The scintillating twenty foot barriers blinding and disorienting their foes, while breaking up their formations, and shielding the fleeing civilians.

"On it!" Twilight declared, as she levitated Spike onto her back before turning to her friends. "Let's go girls! We need to rally the guard and get as many ponies off the streets as we can!"

"Shouldn't we help Derran?" Rainbow Dash asked, just before a series of rockets from the press of bodies surrounding Equestria's Guardian, sent two of the invaders' ships hurtling down the side of Mistral mountain as balls of blazing wreckage. "Never mind." Rainbow declared, as she raced off to start corralling the citizens.

Tempest struggled to remain calm, as she listened to the screams of her dying soldiers. To say things were going poorly, would have been a significant understatement. Her warriors, magically indoctrinated, alchemically enhanced, and trained to be the most ruthless fighting force the wastes had ever seen, were being slaughtered wholesale. Running estimates in her head, based on the number of screams, the movement of her troops, and what little she could see through the raised shields and shifting bodies of her soldiers. Of the four hundred warriors Tempest had deployed, approximately sixty or more had already been turned into piles of blood and guts in less than thirty seconds, by the absolute monster of a biped, that was apparently somehow a member of the royal family. To make matters worse, scores more of her deployed soldiers appeared to have been incapacitated, or sent running for the horizon, by the three older princesses with little visible effort. At the rate things were going, Tempest's nearly fifteen hundred strong conquering army, would be whittled down to nothing within the next thirty to forty minutes.

Tempest was tempted to take another shot at the three elder princesses with her remaining petrification crystals, but thought better of it. Even ignoring the obstacles currently preventing a clear shot, whatever that monster of theirs was, it appeared able to summon a number of powerful ranged weapons. Including the ones that had blown two of her five troop transports, and at least another four hundred of her reinforcements, out of the sky. If she wanted to salvage anything from this mess without being killed, she needed to choose her moment wisely. Emerging from the press of her soldiers on the side of their shield wall opposite the princesses and their bipedal killing machine, Tempest headed for a nearby building. Jumping atop a pile of stacked boxes of party supplies, Tempest managed to secure a higher vantage point atop the roof of a cafe. Glancing over at the location of the biped, Tempest felt her blood run cold.

The creature was surrounded by an ever expanding ring of corpses, as the storm beast infantry attempted desperately to bring it down. As Tempest watched, the creature summoned a pair of weapons that shot twin lines of small explosive projectiles into her warriors. Shields shattered into shards from countless, almost simultaneous, detonations. Seconds before gaping holes were blown in the bodies behind them. Forty storm beasts died in the space of five seconds, as the biped swept his constantly firing weapons back and forth in an arc before him. Stitching explosive death across dozens of hapless soldiers at a time. Several storm beasts charged at the biped's back, spears set and ready to impale, but it was an effort in vain.

Almost as if it knew they were coming, the creature jumped high into the air, dismissing its weapons in flashes of scarlet light. Angling its feet, the beast back flipped over the advancing wall of spears ,with a pulse of blue energy from the bottoms of its booted feet. Coming down perpendicular to one of the spear wielding storm beasts, the monster landed a brutal double kick, into the small of the soldier's back. An audible crack of bone, and a squealing roar of agony, accompanied the storm beast being sent flying into the barely holding together ranks of its brethren. Its impact carrying force enough to send five of them tumbling, in a ball of broken limbs and internal injuries. Without a moment's hesitation, the prone biped rolled backward onto its feet, another pair of weapons appearing in its hands. Two streams of painfully bright, blue white orbs of light, sprayed from the creature's most recent armaments, with an oddly muted series of what Tempest could only describe as: 'zapping sounds', directly into the backs of the formerly charging storm beasts. It took mere seconds for a line of ten, spear wielding, purpose-built fighting machines, to die. Their flesh, fur, and even bone, turning to blue vapor instantly, the soldiers screaming in agony as their bodies were evaporated, one hoof sized chunk at a time.

Turning from the carnage, Tempest attempted to focus through the sounds of her soldier's screams and the revolting smells of burning fur and charred meat. She could always get more soldiers, but if she returned empty hoofed, never mind not receiving her promised reward, the Storm King would likely have her killed! Casting about, Tempest swiftly focused her gaze on the one princess who wasn't paying attention to the battle, and was too far away for the monstrous biped to help. . . .

Derran let out a snarling roar as he cleaved another monster in two with Unmaker, before blowing away a second with a blast from his super shotgun. One of the vaguely lupine monsters, having lost its weapon, rushed Derran with claws alone, its arms wide, no doubt seeking an immobilizing bear hug. Jumping high, Derran brought his knee directly into the nose of its scaled, skull-like head, augmenting the strike with a burst of power from his jump boots. A guttural scream of pain was cut off, as fragments of bone from the creature's imploded muzzle, pierced its brain in a welter of blood. Whipping his hands out before him, Derran cleared the enemy from his landing zone with a pair of rockets. Turning several dozen beasts into little more than charred and shredded meat.

Landing in a crouch, Derran jumped forward to headbutt a charging foe in the chest, with enough force to collapse its rib cage. As the unfortunate monster died choking on the blood from its burst lungs, Derran leapt into the air once again. Directing a spinning kick to the side of another beast's head, and sending it flying, its neck broken, and its brain hemorrhaging. As another monster hurtled forward, Derran activated his jump boots to glide effortlessly over its head. Once again Derran landed in a crouch, spinning around to knock the stunned beast's legs out from under it. Rising up, Derran brought his knee up into the still airborne beast's gut, boosting it into the air before throwing a spinning mule kick into its spine. The creature was barely able to scream, its body folded nearly in half by the force of the strike, as its flying remains, sent a clump of its kin hurtling in all directions like billiard balls.

Whirling around, Derran sent a stream of fire from his chaingun tearing into the hull of Tempest's command ship. Wood exploded, and steel shattered, as the white hot stream of lead ripped through the hull like it was tissue paper. The craft shook as though in the grip of a powerful ague, the bullets shredding the interior, until inevitably, they hit something vital. A massive fireball engulfed the center of the ship, a shockwave blasting the invading army to their knees, as the airship's alchemic engine detonated. The ship's balloon instantly catching fire, as the hull split apart, cargo, weapons, and crew, disgorged into the void, as so much flaming refuse. The once mighty vessel, plunging down the side of the mountain, as Derran tore its guts out.

Still standing tall, Derran allowed himself a vicious smile, as the Storm King's vaunted army struggled to rise from being knocked down by their command ship's death throes. To Derran, It was where all such filth belonged, on their knees before the Seraphim! As he cast his gaze over them, Derran let out a cold and vindictive laugh, his tone venomous as he spoke.

"STAY DOWN AND BEG MEWLING SCUM!! BEG FOR MERCY!! LIKE THE UNWORTHY WORMS YOU AR-" Suddenly Derran stopped as he felt his eyes widen, and his blood chill. His gaze skirting over the rooftops, before coming to rest on the maroon blur of Tempest Shadow. Jumping from tiled roof to tiled roof, dodging around chimneys and penthouse gardens, she clutched another vile green crystal mass in her mouth. . . as she ran directly toward Twilight! Derran felt his blood boil as he called one of his heavy assault rifles to his hand, the long range scope already affixed to it. However, just as Derran brought the weapon to his shoulder, he was knocked from his feet. Distracted by the sight of Tempest closing on his beloved, Derran had not seen the recovered storm beast, until it bull rushed him from behind. Unable to brace, Derran was sent hurtling forward onto the ground, as the beast ineffectively belabored his back, with pummeling fists and raking claws.

Struggling to ignore the beast hammering at the back of his head and torso with all its might, Derran attempted to aim at Tempest from the ground. Unfortunately, by now, the rest of the still living storm beasts had recovered, and Derran was forced to divert precious seconds to clearing them from his field of view, with bursts of fifty caliber automatic fire. Derran bellowed in abject fury, as he bucked off the creature straddling his back. Calling his pistol to his opposite hand, as he whipped around and shot the prone monster through the head. Spinning three hundred sixty degrees and banishing his pistol, Derran followed his own momentum as he fell into a crouch, his rifle held tight to his shoulder, as he aligned the crosshairs with Tempest's skull. But yet again, his aim was fouled by the beasts around him, clawed hands grabbing at his weapon's barrel, and sending his shot wide. Derran let out a thunderous roar, as he dismissed his rifle and dropped a pair of grenades at his feet.

Derran felt the faint sting of shrapnel partially punching through his armor, as blood and viscera sprayed across his body. But that no longer mattered, as a cold feeling of desperation gripped his soul. Running toward Twilight, Derran bellowed out a warning, as he cut a frantic bloody path through the enemy toward her. For the first time in what seemed an uncountable age, Derran Grandel felt true fear, as he realized that neither he, nor his warning, would be in time. . . .

Tempest's lungs burned with exertion, as she ran toward her goal. Maybe she couldn't capture all the princesses, but she'd be damned to Tartarus before she'd go back empty hooved. The muted ache of her broken horn, was a constant reminder of what failure would mean for her. If she could just get the youngest princess, she could at least save face. Go back and tell the Storm King that at least some progress had been made, and that a more robust invasion force was required. However, she had no doubt that if she didn't manage to petrify at least one princess, then things would go quite badly for her.

With sweat pouring down her face and flanks, Tempest leapt a particularly wide gap between the roofs. Her chest impacting a gutter as she scrambled up with her front hooves. The biped was currently occupied with her soldiers, and though he was closing in, he would be too late. As Tempest came to the edge of the last roof, and finally looked down at the oblivious princess, Twilight Sparkle. The princess and her friends were directing ponies away from the battle with the help of the royal guard, reassuring them that Derran and the three elder princesses had things under control. Fortune smiled on Tempest, as not only was Twilight's back turned, but all her friends and the guards were as well. A roar of pure fury, far closer than Tempest would have liked, refocused her on the need for haste, and she tossed the glowing green crystal in her mouth skyward, before leaping into the air. Performing an elegant midair front flip, Tempest brought the back of her right rear hoof down on the crystal's already active, black energy sphere.

Time seemed to slow, as Tempest watched the crystal streak through the air. It had been a flawless shot, straight at the center of the princess's back, right between her wings. The crystal rotated sedately, as it hurled forward, the princess still oblivious as she turned to glance in the biped's direction. He shouted a warning, but it hardly mattered. The beast was still too far away for his shout to be understood, and it was far too late for the princess to react even if she had. Tempest felt a faint surge of relief, as things finally started going according to plan. Only for her eyes to go wide in horror, as she heard a second, far closer, shout of warning.

"TWILIGHT! LOOK OUT!!"

There are many kinds of heroes in the world. There are the obvious champions who get all the press, clad in gleaming armor as they swoop in to save the day. There are the less obvious champions, who belong to organizations that save people from disasters as part of the fire department or law enforcement. There are the activist heroes who fight for justice with words of passionate protest, and civil disobedience. There are the everyday heroes who help old ladies cross streets and rescue cats from trees. However, there is one kind of hero that shines above all the others, the rarest, and perhaps most noble of them all. . . the hidden hero. A champion who if you looked at or spoke to them, you would never imagine them as even being capable of heroics. They are the ones who seem too shy, too oblivious, too weak, or too foolish, to ever be a hero. Yet, it was one such hero, who with a single lunge, sent Tempest's plans hurtling into ruin. As an unassuming grey and blond blur, made the ultimate trade: a life. . . for a life.

Derran screamed in volcanic fury and frustration, as the invaders continued to hurl themselves at him. His gaze focused on Twilight as he cut himself free of the enemy. Breaking out of the thinning hoard just in time to see Tempest toss the crystal into the air. . . and send it streaking into Twilight's unprotected back. The world slowed to a crawl, as Derran's mind went into overdrive, his neurons almost burning themselves out, as they desperately searched for an avenue of salvation. Derran had failed to take down Tempest before she could attack. His shouted warnings had only succeeded in causing Twilight to turn to look at him in confusion. Celestia, Luna, and Cadence were too far away to help, even if they had known what was going on. For a moment, Derran considered attempting to shoot the orb out of the air. However, even if he did manage to hit the crystal, the shot would likely kill one of the ponies huddled nearby. With a feeling like his entire body had been plunged into icy water, Derran realized the truth. He, the most powerful of the seraphim's servants, the warrior who had slain gods, demons, and monsters alike, the mightiest weapon of the holy land, he, the supposed 'Guardian of Equestria'. . . was completely helpless to save the mare he loved.

Pushing himself forward with a desperation he could scarcely imagine, Derran reached out his hand, as if thinking that by sheer will, he could stop the inevitable. His eyes met Twilight's, and in them, Derran saw a maelstrom of emotion. Her confusion at not understanding his warning. The faint, first echoes of fear, as it dawned that something awful was about to happen to her. And finally, most painfully, her love for him.

Derran internalized all of this, a mere moment before the eyes he was gazing into, changed. Orbs of purple, abruptly switched to gold, the emotions within them, as before, laid bare to Derran's gaze. Reflecting the final, silent testament, of their owner. As with Twilight, every subtle emotion was indelibly inscribed into Derran's mind. Her fear, her courage, her acceptance of the price for her actions, and her sadness, at those she would leave behind. Derran felt his eyes begin to burn with desperate tears of denial, as Derpy Hooves threw herself into the path of Tempest's attack.

"NO!!!"

Derran roared, grief and rage spurring him to a speed even he did not believe possible, yet still, it was too late. As a greasy looking cloud of toxic yellow-green smoke, hid Derpy from view. Desperately, Derran tried to imagine that somehow things would be alright. That somehow, Tempest's weapon would spare the brave mare, that in the last six months, Derran had come to consider as close as a sister. Yet as the smoke cleared, Derran's delusions were shattered like glass. Skidding to a halt, Derran staggered, as tears blinded him. Opening his mouth, he let out a choking exclamation, that might have been some attempted form of denial of what he was seeing, as he took a drunken, staggering step forward. Raising a shaking right hand, as if attempting to forestall what had already come to pass, Derran fell to his knees. . . before the black crystal statue, that had once been Derpy Hooves.

For several seconds, Derran knelt there, his head shaking in futile refusal of reality, as he silently wept with wide, horror filled eyes. Visions of Derpy's smiling face filled Derran's mind, as he realized he would never see it again. Memories of her laughter, of her sweet voice, of her desire to always do her best, and see the bright side in any situation. Looking past her petrified form, Derran saw the distraught face of Dinky Hooves, as she stared at him, pleading with her eyes, for him to save her mother. At that moment, Darran felt the world disappear around him, a dark void swallowing his mind and soul, and surrounding him in shadow.

He had failed, in his posturing arrogance, Derran had let an enemy slip by to attack the Seraphim. Because of his failure, Twilight was almost killed, and Derpy. . . Derpy had needed to do his job for him, for a second time. Offering herself again, as a sacrifice to cover for his failure. The cold hand of judgment clutched at Derran's heart, as he realized he as good as killed Derpy himself. Instantly, Derran was assailed by a vision of a mountain of corpses, so tall its summit faded into invisibility. Mutilated blood soaked bodies, human and equine, glared down at Derran, silently demanding to know why he had not saved them. Then, in a flash, Derran saw Dinky Hooves atop a hill, her heartrending sobs filling the air, as she lay before the grave of her mother. Derran clutched unconsciously at his head, unable to breath beneath the waves of a black ocean of horror and sorrow, as the image of his own family's deaths blazed through his mind. A voice, almost incoherent in its rage, thundering in his mind.

+Destroy!!+

+PUNISH!!+

+KILL!!+

At that final, terrible demand, Derran felt his consciousness convulse. . . as something fundamental within him broke. His armored head jerked back, as he futily clawed at his helmet, as though seeking to rend his own flesh, black flames exploding from his armor, as he opened his mouth. . . and screamed his wrathful torment to the heavens. . . .

Twilight Sparkle, had never before in her life, heard a sound as horrifying as the one now emitting from Derran. It was like the bestial shriek of a tortured animal, but indescribably worse. A mix of purest agony and hate, that told of a torment that should not exist in a sane or just world. It struck Twilight like a physical blow, sending her to her knees, as she cried out in sympathetic pain. She briefly tasted copper in her mouth, as the sound, like all the souls of the dead were roaring out in a bloodlusted frenzy of rage, sorrow, and madness, echoed through the city of Canterlot. How any mortal creature could produce such a sound, Twilight could not even begin to imagine. Forcing herself to her feet, Twilight looked over at Derran, and for the first time since meeting him, felt true terror, at his appearance.

From head to toe, Derran was covered in ghostly black flames. They crawled across his armor as if they were alive, flickering and dancing with what almost seemed a malevolent form of life. Rising to his feet, Derran was slightly hunched over, his body twitching and jerking unnaturally. As Twilight watched, Derran's fingers curled and flicked, as if he was flexing invisible claws. Gasping, Twilight watched as, for just an instant, she could have sworn that the flames covering Derran, made him appear as a towering monstrous figure, formed of unholy flame, and sporting a pair of massive bat-like wings. Yet, none of this was what truly frightened Twilight. No, what frightened her, what set her blood running cold, and made her heart feel as if gripped by claws of ice, was the sense that Derran Grandel, the stallion she had come to love more than life itself. . . was no longer there. As if the mind of the noble warrior who had stolen her heart, had gone, and might never return. For an instant, a memory of a warning given six months ago, flashed through Twilight's head. . . .

"There's gonna be a day when you realize, that some beings are beyond redemption. When that day comes. . . I don't want it to hurt you anymore than I know it's already going to."

Soundtrack: End of All Hope by Nightwish

"Derran. . . ?" Twilight whispered, her voice shaking. The being before her didn't seem to even notice her, as it turned to look at Tempest's cowering soldiers with eyes of bloody red light, blazing beneath its helmet. Then, in a voice so monstrous its every word seemed to taint the air, the being Derran had become, spoke. . . .

"Rip. . . and. . . TEAR!!!"

Tempest was drowning in a veritable sea of terror, her mind seizing up, as she tried to understand what she was witnessing. As the biped, its body shrouded in ebon flames, and its eyes blazing like a pair of burning brands, leapt thirty feet into the air, before landing amid her remaining soldiers like an obsidian meteor. An explosion of pulverized rubble and vaporized flesh and bone, fountained forty feet into the air, as nearly thirty of Tempest's remaining troops, instantly met their end. Before she could so much as blink, a storm beast was sent hurtling away by a backhand strike, powerful enough to cut a bloody swath through no less than forty of its fellows. The impact of the hurtling corpse was so tremendous, that the bodies it struck seemed to explode from the force.

With an unearthly howl of pure wrathful bloodlust, the flaming monster tore into Tempest's soldiers like a tornado made of razor blades. With its limbs moving so fast they were almost invisible, the crazed beast tore off limbs, opened up bellies, and ripped heads from necks. Blood, limbs, and organs, sprayed high into the air amid screams of primal terror, storm beasts desperately attempting to flee. Mystic and chemical indoctrination shattering, before the all consuming horror of death incarnate. As Tempest watched, the flaming monstrosity punched in between the prongs of one of her soldier's bident style spears. The force of the blow shattering the head, and sending the shaft through its wielder, and the twelve storm beasts behind him like a javelin hurled by a god, before embedding itself fully into a stone wall.

As its victims fell, the monster seized two more spears by the heads, and began laying about with them. Their shafts moving with such speed that they sliced through storm beasts two or three at a time, as easily as if the hafts were razor sharp blades. As Tempest's soldiers broke in panic, the flaming horror, with a shrieking roar of wrathful indignation, hurled the spears at the stormbeasts retreating backs. Spinning like a helicopter propeller, the metal weapons cut through the fleeing soldiers like a band saw. Their bodies parting at the waist in a puff of misted blood, before falling to the ground in a heap of steaming guts. Letting out a roar that shattered every window in sight, the monstrous biped turned this way and that, looking for more foes, and Tempest only barely managed to keep control of her bowels, as its blazing crimson gaze settled on her. At that moment, a flicker of clear recognition passed through the creature's blazing eyes, before it let out a second roar of apocalyptic fury. The sound sending a spider web of cracks running through the walls of the buildings around it. Tempest didn't stop to think, as she simultaneously shot a flare from her broken horn into the air, and turned to run as fast as her mortal terror and four hooves would allow her.

The Doom Slayer's body burned with incandescent hate, even as it slaughtered the last of the enemy soldiers within easy reach. It was not enough! It was not nearly enough! Derpy dead. . . Twilight threatened. . . Equestria in danger. . . . These thoughts played through the maelstrom of rage within the Slayer's mind in a never ending loop. He must kill them, he must kill them all!! He would rip them apart, he would glut on their blood, he would make a ruin of their cities, and corpses of their children! He would pile a mountain of their bodies before the grave of Derpy Hooves, and inscribe her name in the skulls of their leaders! He would turn their world into a barren wasteland, and scour their very memory from existence! Only then could Derpy rest, only then would it be enough!!!

Turning its head, the Doom Slayer sighted a figure atop a nearby roof. Instantly his rage addled mind whirled, his thoughts focusing with a feeling like a piece of white hot metal had been thrust into his brain, as he recognized who it was. The Slayer, through his haze of rage and madness, could not recall her name, but he knew her face. With his blood boiling in his veins, the Doom Slayer exploded into motion. Running straight into the side of a building, stone and mortar parted before him like water before the prow of a ship, as he pursued a straight line to his target. Tearing through richly appointed homes, five star restaurants, and carefully tended gardens, the Doom Slayer ripped through barrier after barrier with the force of an unstoppable freight train. Reaching what he knew was the point beneath his foe by sheer instinct, the Slayer leapt with god-like strength through the ceiling above him. . . .

Tempest risked a look over her shoulder as she kept running. Just in time to see the roof of the building she had vacated seconds ago, explode in a cloud of pulverized steel, wood, and plaster. As she turned away again, a jolt of fresh terror increasing her already maxed out speed, Tempest tried not to think about how much raw physical might it would take, to run and jump through buildings like they were made of tissue paper. She should have felt relieved at the sight of one of her troopships, held in reserve, coming down overhead to cover her escape. However, she now knew full well, as she ran under the low flying vessel, that, at best, the troops disgorging behind her, would only buy her a few seconds.

Ever conscious of the need for an additional exit strategy, Tempest had stationed one of her airships below the lip of the city's superstructure, hidden from view. In the event of, what had seemed at the time the borderline unthinkable, catastrophic failure of the mission. That ship could be signaled to evacuate her. Even now, Tempest could see it rising level with the rooftops, if she could get to that ship, she could survive this. . . or so she profoundly hoped. . . .

The Doom Slayer didn't even slow, as he ploughed through a brick chimney between him and his quarry. He would rip her limbs off, he would gut her with his bare hands, he would tear out her soul with his fucking teeth!! Then suddenly, almost from out of nowhere, one of the invader's flying ships appeared, disgorging a phalanx of more, vaguely lupine soldiers, from an iron bay door in the side of its hull. The Slayer gave an utterly inhuman roar, as it smashed into the mass of spear wielding creatures with homicidal abandon. A pair of set spears, shattered like cheap glass as they struck the aura of flames surrounding the Slayer, the soldiers just having time to scream, as he attacked.

Fingers like steel spikes, punched into the sternum of the first warrior, as it was lifted off the ground. In a flaming black blur, a second set of fingers wrapped around the storm beast's leg. As with a horrific sound of tearing flesh and snapping cartilage, the creature was ripped in two, its blood and guts exploding out in a spray of gore like some grotesque pinata. Spinning to one side, the Slayer struck the skull of a second storm beast with the lower half of its compatriot, its skull virtually imploding from the force, and its legs snapping like matchsticks, as its lifeless body was hammered through the very roof it stood on. A roar of unholy malice accompanied the Slayer turning to punch his fist through the shield and chest of another of the beasts behind him, ripping free the creature's still beating heart in a spray of wine red droplets and bone fragments. Without even pausing, the Doom Slayer grabbed the lower jaw of a second storm beast. Pulling its mouth open with enough force to rip its lower jaw off, the Slayer rammed the pulsing organ in its other hand down its throat. The motion bursting open its rib cage in a flood of gore and fragmented bone, before kicking what remained away with bone shattering force into the crowd of its comrades. A good thirty of the bestial warriors sent flying into the air as ragdolled corpses, in the hurtling body's wake.

As the remaining storm beasts scattered in terror, the Doom Slayer leapt into the open troop bay. Just barely recalling the proper tool for this situation, through a near blinding haze of red, the Slayer fired its rocket launcher indiscriminately in every direction. Shrapnel and the blasts of point blank detonations, bouncing impotently off the flames that shrouded him. As the ship was reduced to little more than burning splinters in seconds, the Slayer roared out his fury, as he charged forward again, his all consuming thirst for retribution driving him unrelentingly onward. . . .

Tempest felt like her lungs were going to burst, but she didn't dare stop. The sound of psychotic roaring, the screams of dying storm beasts, and the thunder of explosive detonations behind her, were more than enough motivation to push forward. Her escape ship was already in place, and she was now close enough to see Grubber, frantically waving from atop the side rail, shouting encouragement to her. All Tempest's ships had emergency boosters for situations like this. She just needed to get on board and activate them. The boosters were experimental, unstable, and as likely to blow them out of the sky as work. But Tempest would happily shoulder that risk, if it just got her away from the rampaging monstrosity behind her.

Weaving between a pair of chimneys, Tempest cried out in stark terror, as a thrown piece of splintered wood, embedded itself in one of them as she flew past. A second later, a projectile trailing fire, screamed past her to just barely miss both her and the ship she was running towards. Another soul shattering roar sounded, as with a staccato chattering, the railing and decking around Grubber exploded into wooden fragments and sawdust. By sheer luck, Grubber managed to escape harm, tumbling to the deck and curling into a ball. Tempest's heart leapt, as she realized she had only ten feet to go. Putting on a final burst of speed, Tempest jumped across the vertiginous four foot gap between the last roof and the ship. As her hooves struck the decking, Tempest turned to scream frantically at the helmsman. Her terror spiking, as she heard the sound of another chimney being obliterated, amid yet another series of cacophonous roars.

"GET US OUT OF HERE NOW!! FULL EMERGENCY BURN!!" The storm beast commanding the wheel was smart enough not to argue, as it began to guide the ship out into open air. Tempest spinning around, to see a sight that turned her blood to solid ice. There, his aura of dark flames flaring into the shape of a monstrous, bat-winged abomination, was the creature that had all but wiped out Tempest's invasion fleet. His arms spread wide, as he soared through the air in mid jump. By sheer reflex, Tempest managed to fire a blast of pure uncontrolled magical energy, directly into the creature's chest. To her shock, it actually managed to interrupt his momentum. The blast sparking off his aura and bleeding away some of the force of his leap. With a roar of insensate rage, the monster fell out of sight. For several seconds, nocreature spoke, then, finally, Grubber, tiptoed over to the shattered railing, to look over the side. With an audible sigh of relief, he gave a claws up, as he turned away.

"Great shot boss, I think you-erk!" Grubber was interrupted as an armored hand, shrouded in fires as black as a devil's heart, wrapped around his head. As, reaching up with its other hand to grip the broken railing, the monster began to pull itself aboard.

"KILL. . . HATE!!!" It roared, as it closed its hand around Grubber's skull. The small storm beast's eyes bursting out of their sockets, turned to jelly instantly by the pressure. As pulverized brains, and shards of skull, squirted out from between his killer's fingers. Tempest felt her bladder release its contents, her mind shorting out as she gazed into the eyes of a homicidally enraged god. At that moment, Tempest let out an ear piercing scream, as she unleashed a full power blast of raw magical energy. Screaming the whole time, Tempest temporarily lost what sanity she had left, as the creature threw Grubber's corpse aside, blocking the stream of energy with its raised hand, as if it was little more than a stream of water. Yet for all that, the monster seemed to strain against the force of the attack. But little by little, it pulled itself forward, its other hand pulling on the damaged rail.

"TEAR. . . YOU. . . APART!!" The armored horror roared. As Tempest, her eyes wild, pulled every last dreg of strength she could from her sanity shredding fear, and forced it into her attack. The monster staggered slightly, its grip on the railing tightening, and the wood splintering, as it managed to place one foot on the deck. Then, suddenly, as if some dark god had taken pity on Tempest, the much abused railing, shattered.

Blasted backward by Tempest's magic, the monster let out a psychotic scream of hate, that would haunt Tempest's nightmare's for the rest of her days. Clawing at the air in a blind fury, the creature fell towards the Everfree forest below, its eyes ablaze with mindless wrath, as its prey slipped from its grasp. Rushing to the side of the ship, Tempest watched as the creature fell, shrieking out its incomprehensible hatred, until the forest canopy, nearly two miles down, swallowed it. Shaking with adrenaline infused terror, Tempest repeated her earlier order as a frantic shout.

"GET US THE BUCK OUT OF HERE!!"

Let Them Burn. . .

Author's Note

Greetings everyone, Thule117 here just wanting to make a few quick announcements before we begin. First, let me thank all of my fabulous readers for their overwhelmingly positive response to Doom Slayer, your enjoyment of my work genuinely means the world to me. Second, I released this chapter a little earlier to coincide with the masterpiece DLC for Doom Eternal: The Ancient Gods. If you haven't yet, I encourage every fan of Doom to pick it up, as it is both a literal, and figurative, blast to play. Finally, I wish to give a massive shout out to my editor Bronyshot2020 for accommodating my crazy whims and managing to edit this chapter in a single day! His hard work is quite literally the reason I was able to get this chapter out so quickly. As before, if you enjoy my story please leave a like, a comment, or both, it is always appreciated. Now, on with the chapter!

Let Them Burn. . .

Twilight Sparkle surveyed the destruction surrounding her, her stomach tying itself in knots. The Friendship Festival was ruined, but honestly, she could care less about that right now. Much of the main Canterlot plaza was in shambles, several houses had been damaged, and burning airship wreckage had partly collapsed a few more. Storm beast blood and corpses were everywhere, their sight and stench an ever present reminder of the carnage that had been wrought there. Twilight had tried to take some small comfort in the idea that at least nopony had gotten seriously hurt. Then, a sudden pain in her heart, and the sight of the crystal statue in the center of the plaza, reminded her that that wasn't quite true.

"Can we. . . reverse it?" Twilight asked tentatively, staring at the crystal statue of Derpy Hooves, with the ache in her heart intensifying. Celestia and Luna, completing their examination, each managed a kindly, if strained, smile.

"We believe so, fortunately, it appears this magic is not so dissimilar to other spells of petrification Luna and I have seen. As long as the statue remains intact, it's likely Derpy can be brought back with a little effort and research." Twilight let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness." She declared, her head turning to glance sadly at the sobbing form of Dinky Hooves. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie at her side, trying their best to console her. Luna nodded soberly, her expression suddenly becoming grave.

"Indeed, but I believe we now have a more immediate problem." Celestia nodded, her face grim.

"Derran. . . ." She stated, her voice tinged with sorrow. Twilight looked at her former mentor with a fearful expression.

"What. . . what happened to him? He looked like. . . like. . . ."

"Like he did on the Day of Wrath." Luna finished. Twilight, her expression strained, nodded.

"But I thought that was impossible? Wasn't that power temporary?" Celestia shook her head.

"It may have been for the rest of the Legion, in truth we still know very little about it, but recall, Derran returned to Hell. He spent over one thousand years there. More than enough time to renew whatever energy that dark power relies upon. And this time it felt different. . . stronger. . . less controlled. Regardless however, even without that power, Derran's sanity has always walked a narrow and dangerous path. There have been instances before where Derran has. . . lost control." Twilight looked at Celestia, her expression becoming one of deep worry.

"You're talking about the Doom Slayer, aren't you?" She asked, her voice muted by concern. Celestia nodded, averting her gaze, as Luna explained.

"Derran and the Doom Slayer are both dedicated to the protection of Equestria and its citizens, to a degree that borders on, if not crosses into, the fanatical. Most of the time, Derran is in charge, and he keeps the Slayer in check, curbing his worst excesses, even as he borrows his strength. They aren't friends or comrades, but they cooperate out of a mutual love of Equestria and its citizens." Suddenly, Luna's expression fell. "However. . . should things grow dire enough. . . the relationship changes. Derran's will falters from despair, while the Slayer's restraint is destroyed by his rage, as he seizes near complete control. The Legion gave a name to this state, they called it: 'going berserk'." Celestia nodded sadly.

"We still are not certain what role the black flames play, or why they only appeared on the day of wrath. However, when in this 'berserk' state, the Doom Slayer embraces his very worst attributes. He becomes single minded, indifferent to moral gray, and utterly unforgiving of any creature he sees as an enemy. To him, all that matters is securing the safety of Equestria, its ponies, and its rulers, at any and all costs, as well as. . . avenging, any who were harmed. . . ." Celestia explained, with a sad look at Derpy's petrified form. "To this end, he will seek out and kill anycreature or anything, he believes is, or could be, a threat. Including those innocent of any wrongdoing, but with a connection to the guilty. He will not stop, until he believes our safety is assured." Twilight's eyes went wide.

"But. . . but he already stopped them?! The invasion is over!" Celestia shook her head.

"Not to the Doom Slayer. To him, wiping out those close to the enemy, as well as the enemy themselves, is a safety precaution. He believes that only by destroying evercreature that might seek vengeance for the deaths of the soldiers he's slain, can he assure Equestria's wellbeing. It also, to his mind, serves as a warning to others, that if they attack Equestria, they will be signing the death warrants of those they love." Luna nodded gravely.

"Which is why it is imperative we locate him, before he reaches an area with innocent civilians under this 'Storm King's' banner. Only a direct order from one of us, will be enough to persuade him to stop." Twilight stroked her chin with one hoof, her expression tense, and her eyes closed. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, as a thought came to her.

"Wait, what about using the Guardian Summons?! Couldn't we bring him back that way?" Celestia shook her head.

"Right now, the Slayer's rage blinds him to everything but his self-imposed mission. He can't hear the summons, and would likely ignore it even if he could. He believes a pony of Equestria, and a dear friend at that, is dead. He will not stop killing until everycreature he considers complicit, has paid with their lives." Celestia looked at Twilight, her expression more serious than her student could recall seeing it in a very long time. "We must stop him, before he does something he cannot take back. For his sake as much as anypony else's." Twilight nodded.

"The battle here is over, what's left of the Storm King's soldiers, all but begged us to let them surrender after what Derran did. Shining, Cadance, and the girls, can handle things from here, while we stop Derran." She declared, determination flaring in her breast. Celestia and Luna nodded, their expressions set with grim resolve.

"We shall take an hour to make sure everything has settled down completely, then we will head into the wastes as swiftly as possible. I feel certain that is where Tempest was heading, and I may know a place there where we can find information on the Storm King." Celestia stated. "It may take a bit of searching to locate it, but if we can learn the Storm King's whereabouts, we can find Derran." Luna and Twilight nodded.

"Let us hope we can do so, before it is too late. . . ." Luna declared, her gaze lingering on the sundered corpses still littering the area. Their faces frozen, in expressions of unimaginable terror.

Tempest stumbled into the communication room, still trembling from horn to hoof. Collapsing to the floor, she struggled not to throw up, as images of what had happened a scant twenty minutes ago filled her mind. Currently, Tempest's lone remaining troop ship was hurtling as fast as it could to the northwest, into the wastes. Making for the capital of the Storm King's empire, on the other side of the Bone Dry Desert. The journey would take approximately a day or two by air. However, Tempest genuinely feared that would not be fast enough. She was no fool, she didn't believe for even a moment, that their pursuer was dead. A monster like that, would never be stopped so easily. . . .

Tempest dearly wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Never in her life having experienced such horror. The vividly recalled image of the monstrous biped, that had all but erased her invasion force, terrorizing her even now. In her exhausted and delirious state, Tempest couldn't recall when she had begun the ritual for activating the communication device in the center of the room. Pouring the activating potion into the scrying bowl with violently trembling hooves, Tempest nearly dropped the bottle twice. Instantly, swirling blue mist erupted from the liquid's surface, forming an ethereal sheet of energy, about three feet tall and two feet wide. For a time the sheet simply stood there, wafting delicately in an unfelt breeze, then suddenly, an image appeared in it. The face of the Storm King was roughly simian, its gray leathery skin framed by the white fur that covered nearly his entire body. His eyes were an electric sky blue, with black pupils and no irises, set above a blunt muzzle filled with sharp fangs. Finally, atop his head, were two sets of horns, one set of a dark gray that pointed up, and another larger set, that stuck out to the sides, their color black, but etched with faintly glowing lines the same hue as the Storm King's eyes.

"Tempest!" The King greeted jovially, his tone with far too much emphasis to sound genuinely pleased. "So good to see you, really it is, just one little detail, really nothing just. . . it looks like you're contacting me from inside one of my ships? But that can't possibly be, since you swore to me, that by this time today you would have both the princesses and the capital city of Equestria under my control. So. . . what happened?" It was at that point, as he paused for an explanation, that the Storm King finally noticed Tempest's expression. She didn't look merely frightened, she looked. . . broken. Her eyes were wide and staring, her pupils dilated, as her eyelids twitched involuntarily. Her lips trembled, as her jaw clenched and unclenched, her chest heaving, as she seemed on the verge of hyperventilation. Her mane stuck out at odd angles, while her coat was soaked in sweat. For an instant, the Storm King forgot his annoyance, as it struck him that Tempest, who he had always pegged as a quintessential: 'cold hearted bitch', had been genuinely traumatized.

"He's coming!" Tempest Breathed out, her voice on the edge of hysterics. The Storm King arched an eyebrow, uncertain how to handle this.

"Ooookaaayyy. . . who's 'He', exactly?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"HIM!!!" Tempest roared, her eyes reflecting genuine insanity and rage for an instant, before she suddenly started laughing. The Storm King stared at Tempest through the spell, feeling slightly unnerved, but mostly irritated, by his clearly several sandwiches short of a picnic, second in command.

"Well that explains. . . nothing." The Storm King deadpanned, as Tempest continued to giggle unsettlingly, her eyes unfocused as she stared at him.

"He. . . killed them. . . all of them." Tempest declared in a singsong voice, still sunk deep into her delirium. "He just. . . blew them apart. . . like wind. . . a wind of death! Invisible but deadly. . . not silent though." Tempest stated, before giggling again, as if enjoying some private joke. The Storm King however, just stared.

"Ok yeah, enough of this. SNAP OUT OF IT!!" He roared, injecting as much rage and authority into his voice as possible. Instantly, Tempest stopped chuckling, shocked out of her temporary bout of madness. She blinked, her expression returning to something closer to normal, as her breathing began to stabilize. "Now. . . what happened?" The Storm King asked, his voice, if not exactly gentle, then at least neutral. Tempest shook her head, marshaling her disjointed thoughts, as she struggled to form words.

"We. . . encountered resistance." Tempest explained, her words slow and deliberate. The Storm King frowned as he arched an eyebrow.

"You don't say?" He remarked, his tone sarcastic. Tempest simply continued as if she hadn't heard, like she was in a trance.

"The princesses. . . they. . . they had something with them. Something I've never seen before. It was. . . it was so fast. . . it tore through our soldiers like they were nothing! It. . . it couldn't be hurt! Nothing we did made so much as a scratch! And those eyes. . . those horrible horrible eyes!!" Tempest's voice trailed off into a whimper as she started to withdraw again, but was brought back to reality by the Storm King violently clapping his hands.

"Hello?! Hello?! FOCUS CRAZYHOOVES!! What. . . did the princesses have?" Suddenly Tempest looked frantic, as she stared into the Storm King's eyes, her voice shrill with terror as she spoke.

"You need to call back all our soldiers to the capital!! EVERYTHING WE HAVE!!" Tempest shouted, her expression becoming partly crazed with fear. "I don't know where that monster is, but I know he's coming for us! ALL OF US!!" The Storm King was now all but certain his second in command had completely lost it, as she continued to rant. "If we call back everything within a days march, we'll have at least four thousand soldiers! There's no way it could beat four thousand soldiers is there?! No. . . no of course there isn't! We'll have catapults!! And archers!! We'll stop him before he ever gets to the gate!!" The Storm King listened to his lieutenant's raving with a genuinely uncomfortable expression, he had never done well around lunatics.

"Uh, yeah, sure, let's uh. . . go do that-ok look Tempest. . . its obvious you've had a rough day. So I'm gonna grant you the benefit of the doubt this one time, and assume you aren't, a completely incompetent loser. We'll put a pin in this discussion, while you sort through. . . whatever this is all about." Here the Storm King made a vague gesture with one claw. "When you get back we'll have a nice talk round the ol' conference table, kick some new ideas around, and get this staff of mine purring like a kitten, sound good?" The Storm King didn't wait for an answer before he lowered his voice to a threatening growl. "Just a quick FYI though. . . if it turns out you are an incompetent loser, I'm going to take my time making sure that that broken horn of yours, is the most intact part of your body. . . toodles!" He declared, the last word becoming instantly upbeat, before he ended the spell. However, as the sheet of arcane mist dissipated, Tempest continued her rant under her breath. Unconsciously muttering to herself about troop numbers and siege weapon dispositions, as she fought to pull her shattered sanity back together. Her mind struggling to escape the image of a pair of murderous red eyes, and a voice, like unholy thunder. . . .

Capper moved through the streets of Kludgetown with his head down and his eyes up. As with everycreature that ended up calling this refuse pit of a city home, he wanted to appear to be minding his own business, while making sure to keep an eye on his surroundings. He was a bit down on his luck at the moment, and while Boss Verko hadn't unleashed the hounds quite yet, he was rapidly running short on time to repay his debt. Hopefully this trip to his favorite bar/stakeout would yield some sucker of a mark he could easily part from the stormbucks he needed, though Capper wasn't holding his breath. The trouble with a place like Kludgetown, was that you either got wise fast, or ended up sold to the highest bidder. It was rare to find anyone who could be readily taken advantage of. Not to mention, that since the Storm King had taken over, you had the added problem of his soldiers occasionally trying to enforce some kind of order on this lawless burg.

"Ah, my fair city of rogues and cutthroats, how you spurn me, yet I can never quit you." Capper chuckled to himself. At the end of the day, it was surprisingly tough being a concat in a city full of con artists and thieves. With a sigh, he passed the winding rocky outcrop that attached the mountainous desert stack, that was the city proper, to the wastes. Looking out over the parched landscape, Capper took a moment to admire the way the heat shimmering from the sand and rocks created odd illusions against the horizon. There was the usual appearance of water hovering just above the ground, all too common in a desert, but then there were the more interesting figments. A jutting rock, became an eerie specter cloaked in shadow. A desiccated cactus, became a cheerfully waving trader, and a dark blot against the horizon became. . . . "What in the wastes?" Capper asked aloud, as he brought a paw to his forehead, shielding his gaze from the sun, and straining his eyes in an attempt to make out what he was seeing.

There, walking up the road, was a shimmering black. . . something. Through the haze of heat, it was all but impossible to make out detail, yet, it appeared to be walking on two legs. As Capper struggled to see more of the entity, not yet entirely convinced it was real, a strange sensation fell over him. Suddenly, it felt as if the temperature had plummeted, goosebumps prickling the skin beneath Capper's fur. The sky seemed to inexplicably darken, as though the sun itself suddenly feared to shine. A wind, like none Capper had ever felt, whipped across the town, carrying sand, and a smell of ozone and sulfur, causing the nearby banners bearing the Storm King's emblem to flutter ominously. A feeling of dread came over him, his blood running cold, as his tail bristled.

Around Capper, others began to notice the change, the usual dull roar of the city, fading into a tense silence. As if on cue, distant thunder rippled through the air, as creatures pointed at the strange figure coming toward the town. For once in his life, Capper had no desire to try and be the first to meet the newcomer in hopes of fleecing them. As some inner instinct told him that, whatever was coming, it was unfathomably dangerous. For an instant, a veil of windswept sand obscured the figure, as Capper noted the dark clouds in the sky to the far southeast, that rumbled ominously. As if heralding the creature's presence.

Then, as the sands parted, Capper's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. The figure now seemed easier to see, as if the shimmering heat of the desert had parted in fear before him. In that moment, Capper swore he saw a bipedal monstrosity of living black flame, with two massive bat wings spreading out from his shoulders, eyes blazing like pits of unhallowed flame, focusing on Kludgetown, as it raised its arms. Two twinkles of brilliant red light briefly flashed out, as a pair of large objects appeared in the creature's claws. Capper didn't even have time to cry out in horror. . . as a vengeful god, cast its first stone.

Soundtrack: Run by Disturbed

Two flares of green light, their intensity blinding even in the middle of the day, momentarily overwhelmed Capper's eyes. As a pair of massive spheres of green lightning and black fire, hurtled towards Kludgetown. Bypassing the main city, the spheres, tendrils of annihilating energy whipping around them, turning stone and sand to slag and vapor, smashed into two of the satellite stacks surrounding Kludgetown. Capper screamed in agony, as a sound like a volcano in its death throes, burst his eardrums. A heat, like half his body had been thrust in a furnace, seared his left side, as a shock wave like the kiss of a battering ram sent him flying. Landing heavily, Capper lost consciousness for an instant, as around him, the world caught fire. Shacks and kiosks of dry wood and fabric, burst into flame like struck matchsticks, as citizens struggled to douse burning clothing and fur. Despite his damaged ears, Capper could still hear the panicked shrieks of the populace, as he struggled to regain his senses.

He was surrounded by prostrate bodies, some clearly no longer among the living, others, letting out groans of pain or screams of agony as they tried to rise, most sporting horrific looking burns or broken limbs. Capper's fur, and his proximity to a now disintegrated shack, had partially shielded him from the blast, though he was now missing the fur on half his face, while a broken arm hung limp at his side, and a knock to the head made his vision spin. Swaying drunkenly as he forced himself to his feet, he glanced at the location of the satellite stacks, as he staggered into an alley, half choked with fallen debris, to hide himself. The satellite stacks were gone. . . vanished, and with them, a good third of the population of Kludgetown. A gentle rain of smoking gravel, two partially molten nubs of sandstone, and the burning remains of the web of rope bridges that had connected the satellites to the city proper, were now all that remained of them.

The main city was rendered a partial wreck from the blasts. Lines of houses, precariously perched along the side of the primary stack of sandstone Kludgetown was built on, were either burning, or had fallen down the side of the stack and over its edge. Plummeting hundreds of feet to the shifting desert sands below. The lower and topmost structures had fared slightly better, but more than a few buildings had been collapsed by the shock waves, or ignited by the burst of heat. Most residents ran to and fro, screaming as they sought shelter, while others simply stared in horror at the destruction. However, the worst was yet to come, as a bestial roar, shook the very earth beneath their feet.

From his hiding spot, Capper heard a staccato chattering, and saw hundreds of barely visible projectiles, trailing black fire, wicker into the panicking crowd. A thin, anthropomorphic lizard, was blown in half, along with the three bipedal pig-like creatures behind him. A large fish beast was torn into gobbets of bloody meat, as close by, a trio of bipedal badgers had their remains splattered across a nearby cliff face. Even the shots that missed were lethal, as, in bursts of black flame, they shattered the sandstone streets of the city, sending out clouds of shrapnel that ripped through fur, and shredded flesh, leaving behind foot wide craters and sprays of blood. A pair of foxes, one sporting an eye patch, screamed in pain. The first losing a leg to the blast of a near miss, while the one with the eye patch, was deprived of an arm, in a puff of scarlet mist. In short order the shattered street was covered in pooling gore and cooling entrails, yet the stream of fire never stopped. As if seeking to completely erase the remains of the fallen, the fusillade only ceased once anything recognizable as a living thing, was reduced to little more than chunks of meat and an unpleasant smear.

Shaking from ear to paw, Capper limped away down the alley, desperate to flee from whatever was attacking the city. His broken arm causing him to wince with every step, Capper's damaged ears picked up the sound of multiple explosions and roars of unspeakable rage, as the ground trembled beneath his paws. Nearing the alley's exit, he paused to catch his breath, his burned face finally beginning to register pain, as the adrenaline subsided slightly, before he took in the scene in the street. Creatures fled in a screaming stampede, up the mountain and toward the airdocks. Trampling one another in their desperation, some broke down the doors of surrounding structures, desperate to find shelter. Capper opened his mouth to cry out a warning that that would only box them in, but the words froze in his throat, as another series of explosions caused the ground to quake. Several buildings collapsing inward, as a twisted and unholy voice roared out.

"KILL!!!" The voice, for all that it was muffled by Capper's injured ears, made his very soul shudder in terror, as a pair of new projectiles flew over the heads of the fleeing crowd. Shrouded in ebon fire, the two objects resembled metal fireworks, as they streaked by Capper's hiding spot and over the crowd. With reflexes he did not know he had, Capper hurled himself to the ground, just before the twin projectiles detonated. A good five hundred residents of Kludgetown were instantly vaporized in twin novas of black fire. The street, and the buildings to either side, shattering like eggs beneath a sledgehammer from the force of the blasts. Now, what had once been a living river of fleeing residents, had been divided. One side continued to rush up the mountain, while the other hesitated, uncertain as to whether to proceed or turn back. It was then, that the monster that had started all this, finally appeared.

With a bellow of rage so titanic it seemed to shake the entire city, a blur of black flame, hurtled into the midst of the crowd. Pure carnage reigned, as the obsidian shrouded horror attacked. With fists like wrecking balls it smashed down onto the street with force enough to send fissures through the already abused ground, up the sides of buildings, and even into the wall of the stack most of Kludgetown was built on, sending a spume of rock and sand dozens of feet into the air. The shock wave of the impact was enhanced by a blast of black fire, that reduced a good forty to fifty bystanders' blood, flesh, and even bones, to little more than a red haze.

Charging out of the crater it had made, the monstrous horror tore through the crowd, paving a path of blood and viscera along the ground, before interposing itself between them and the path up the mountain. Not wasting even a second, the monstrosity tore a pair of worn flagstones from the devastated street. With one in each hand, the rampaging beast spun in place before hurling the flat stones like a pair of discuses. Blood fountained, and screams of terror were cut short, as the spinning pieces of stone split bodies in twain, and sprayed those around them with a mixture of frothed blood and shredded organs. As the crowd screamed and made to flee back the way they came, the monster hurtled back into their midst. Grabbing a large reptilian biped by the arm, and a smaller wolf-like citizen by a leg, the creature proceeded to use them as living bludgeons against their fellow citizens. With unholy snarls and bellowing roars, the creature sent great swaths of the crowd flying, their corpses twisted and warped by their pulverized skeletons.

There were still hundreds trying to flee, the law of averages should have allowed at least a few to escape, but none did. The creature ran through the crowd like a thresher through wheat, chaos preventing most from knowing which direction to run, and the monster's speed ensuring that any who did get away, didn't get far. Dozens died every second, the carnage unceasing even as the flaming figure's improvised clubs burst like grotesque water balloons, raining liquefied guts down on its remaining prey. Unsatisfied, the monster grabbed a fleeing ferret biped, and tore him in half like a piece of paper, before charging into a small crowd of piratically dressed vultures.

Appearing among them in a black blur, the beast slashed out with blunt claws, covered in armor and coated in onyx fire. Despite their dull appearance, the digits sliced open one of the vultures from groin to throat in a jet of gore. The kinetic energy of the hit sent the corpse flying into a damaged stone structure, with enough force to collapse it entirely, as the creature turned to the remaining vultures. One was simply grabbed by the head, to have his skull smashed into the bloody stone beneath his feet, the blow shattering the rock like glass, amid a puff of blood and pulverized brains. Another was seized by an ankle and spun over its killer's head like a flail, sending its half dozen horrified compatriots to meet their makers, in a whirlwind of shattered skulls and pulped organs. All this, in less than three seconds.

Before Capper's eyes, a pair of long boxy weapons appeared in the creature's hands in flashes of red light, a crack of displaced air echoing even above the screaming crowd. With a roar of purified malice, the flaming monstrosity fired the pair of weapons into the fleeing masses. Scores were cut down instantly, their bodies blown into sanguinary fragments by the ebon shrouded projectiles. As the crowd thinned, and the creature dismissed its weapons, some of those still alive fell to their knees to beg for their lives. Offering anything to the creature, if only it would spare them. In response, the creature's flaming hand shot out in a blur of motion, hooking its blunt claws under the skin of the closest petitioner's cheek, before ripping his face off in a savage display of cruelty. Capper was surprised to see he recognized the unfortunate. As Boss Verko fell to the ground, his screams of agony garbled as he choked to death on his own blood, the monster made clear the only kind of payment it would accept. . . .

"TAKE. . . YOUR. . . LIVES!!!" As the air was shattered by this unholy declaration, Capper felt his head swim from a combination of pain and horror. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness, was the remains of the isolated crowd, running to the edge of the Kludgetown stack, and hurling themselves, screaming, into oblivion. . . .

Captain Celaeno didn't have the slightest clue what was going on, save that whatever it was, it had thrown the city into utter chaos. The anthropomorphic parrot and her crew stared down at the frantic masses just ten feet beneath her ship's keel, begging and pleading to be allowed aboard. Clawing violently at one another in desperation, they shouted absurdly generous offers of payment for passage, in voices tinged with the madness only abject terror could produce. Had it not been for the scant distance between her hovering ship and the crowd, Captain Celaeno was positive the mob would have tried to seize the craft by force.

"What in the wastes is going on captain?!" Asked Mullet, Celaeno's first mate. Celaeno didn't answer as she tried to decide what to do. Tossing a ladder to the crowd was out of the question, there were simply too many to evacuate safely on her ship alone. By the same token, Celaeno wasn't cold hearted enough to just abandon the screaming populace below. The citizens of Kludgetown may not be the nicest creatures, or even remotely moral come to that, but abandoning them to their fate in the doomed city, still felt wrong. That said, every instinct Celaeno had, as both a former pirate captain, and an adventurer, were screaming at her to run. Something monstrous had come to this city, and if it found her or her crew, they likely wouldn't survive to regret not fleeing when they could.

"How much space would we have if we dropped the cargo?" She asked. Another of her crew, Boyle, shook his head.

"Not nearly enough captain, even if we got rid of the spare rigging and our personal effects. There must be at least a thousand creatures down there wanting passage. We don't have room for even half of that." Celaeno cursed under her breath.

"Are there any other boats about?"

"Not a one cap'n." Declared Lix Spittle, yet another of Celaeno's crew members. "They were either destroyed by that big blast earlier, or fled right after. Seem's we're the only ones who stayed to help." Celaeno muttered something unpleasant about 'cowardly Storm King lackeys' before turning to face her crew. Drawing herself up, she prepared to rally her men with a speech, then ask for ideas, only to stop dead. A chill, like somecreature had walked over her grave, sent an uncontrollable shiver through Celaeno's body, as an eerie silence descended.

"C-c-c-captain?!" Mullet forced out, his eyes filled with terror, as he pointed a shaking claw. Turning slowly, Celaeno felt the chill from before, become an icy panic, as she saw what Mullet was pointing at.

The creature, advanced up the red flagstone streets with slow, purposeful steps. Standing on two feet at over six feet tall, it was encased in a suit of armor, that was like nothing Celaeno had ever seen in all her years of adventuring. Seeming to consist of plates of metal painted green, and stamped leather-like material. The armor covered every inch of the creature's body. However, even if it hadn't, it would have been impossible to make out details, thanks to the entity's most terrifying aspect. From head to toe, the creature was covered in an aura of blazing black fire. As Celaeno watched, the flames flared, as if possessing an unnatural life all their own. Crawling across the beast's body, the flames seemed almost to create a suggestion of a monstrous winged shape, but it vanished before Celaeno could be sure. Only one part of the creature's actual body was visible. Behind a tinted visor, made even darker by the onyx flames, two pools of bloody red light, fixed their gaze to Celaeno's. in that moment, her very soul seemed to recoil within her, as primal fear tore at her sanity.

"W-w-what is that thing?!" Whispered Boyle, his voice a frightened squeak. Unable to so much as speak, Celaeno shook her head, her terror too great to utter a single word.

As Celaeno, her crew, and the crowd below their ship, watched in silent horror, the creature drew alongside some of the few houses still standing along the street. There was a flash of red light, as something appeared in its blunt claws. With what seemed more a violent twitch, than an actual movement, the creature tossed the pair of small metal canisters it had summoned, into the open window of the first house. The flames from its body clinging to them, as they flew through the air. An instant later, the front and sides of the large yellowed adobe structure were violently blown outward in a gout of black fire and dust. The crowd, suddenly shocked back into mobility, turned back to Celaeno's ship. With screaming voices filled with pure desperation, the crowd again begged for help, tears in their eyes as they pleaded. Celaeno and her crew heard none of it, as the monster continued forward, tossing the strange canisters through windows on its left and right, without ever breaking eye contact. Systematically destroying everything, as it stalked toward the roiling mass of Kludgetown citizens.

Celaeno couldn't think, couldn't feel, couldn't breath, all she could do, was stare into the terrible crimson abyss, that was this monster's eyes. Captain Celaeno, at that moment, could honestly say she had never been more afraid of anything in her life. Yet despite her mind screaming at her to, she was unable to move, as the monster advanced. It's path of annihilation never slowing or speeding up an inch. Paralyzed, Celaeno could only watch, as the monster at last, reached the edge of the massive sandstone plaza atop Kludgetown. Known as the Eagle's Nest, the plaza served as the primary docking point for incoming cargo ships. Surrounded on three sides by sheer drops, the Eagle's Nest was a complete dead end. It was then, with a feeling of mounting horror, that Celaeno saw another flash of red light, as the monster conjured a massive weapon from thin air. Celaeno had a brief glimpse of nine rotating barrels, unfolding into a triangle formation, before the Eagle's nest was consumed by death.

With a roar like a massive sheet of cloth being torn in two, three phosphor white and jet black streams of projectiles scythed into the crowd. Slowly, the monster drew the stream across the plaza, as Celaeno and her crew watched in appalled horror. The first few rows of Kludgetown refugee's deaths were at least painless. As in flashes of black fire, their bodies detonated in great fountains of vaporized gore, filling the air with a vile crimson fog. Those unfortunates in the middle and back rows, were not as lucky. Like a grinding saw blade, the three streams slice through the legs and bellies of the crowd, cutting them in half at the waist in a holocaust of pulverized flesh and flying limbs. Screams of agony and terror filled the air, as the monster cut down the crowd with a cruel precision. Legs snapped like twigs and exploded like wet fireworks, and chewed up organs spilled out onto the ground. As a literal carpet of blood, began to ooze over the stones of the plaza.

However, the true horror of what was being done, only dawned on Celaeno when she saw the fate of those left behind by the unspeakable weapon. Most of the victims, though missing half of their bodies, were still alive! Some, still clinging to the futile idea of survival, tried to drag themselves away. Ruined organs, and torn strips of flesh, trailing behind them, as they scratched at the blood slicked ground with claws and paws. Others simply lay there, staring at the sky, or splayed on the ground, expressions of fear and shock on faces stained with tears, by the realization that they were going to die. The remainder, were those that simply screamed, until the shock, or expiration, silenced them.

As the stream of fire and death reached the halfway point in the crowd, the realization that the only path to salvation lay through their attacker, dawned on them. Rushing forward with wide feral eyes, those remaining roared and screamed as they hurled themselves at the flaming monster. It was a futile effort, as the creature simply swung the weapon from side to side, hosing down the crowd as they charged, still aiming for their legs and stomachs. It only took a few seconds to pave a path of blood and entrails from the monster to the edge of the Eagle's Nest. In the end, not one member of the desperate charge managed to so much as get close. Then. . . finally. . . a moment later, the weapon spun to a halt. The silence would have been deafening. . . if it had lasted.

"Oh. . . wastes. . . my legs. . . I can't feel my legs!"

"Please. . . somecreature. . . anycreature. . . please I'm begging. . . help. . . me. . . ."

"It hurts! Oh shades it hurts!!"

"Momma'. . . momma'. . . mom. . . ma'. . . ."

Celaeno and her crew, unable to take any more, vomited over the sides. The acid burn and foul taste, bringing tears to the former pirate captain's eyes. As she wiped away a strand of saliva and puke, Celaeno realized she was shaking uncontrollably. As she once more directed her gaze at the flaming abomination, just in time to see it dismiss its weapon. As she watched, it made its way toward Celaeno's ship, but was suddenly halted, by a claw reaching out toward it. A pitiful half of an anthropomorphic boar, looked up at the monster with tear-stained eyes. Behind it, its ravaged intestines and a partially obliterated scrap of a leg, connected by a ragged tatter of fur and skin, dragged in the bloody slurry that had covered the plaza. His gaze was glassy, and his time measured in moments, but with the last of his strength, the boar asked. . . .

"Why. . . ?"

The answer, came in the form of a roar that seemed to split the heavens. In an instant, the flames covering the creature, blazed like he had been doused in oil. The pools of red light in its head, bulged in world ending wrath, as he raised his foot. Bringing it down on the remains of the boar, with the force of a cannon shot. The pitiful creature's head exploded like an overripe melon, the booted foot going through and embedding itself in the solid sandstone beneath. A spiderweb of cracks and fissures spread out from the corpse, as the flaming creature continued to stomp on it. With roars of incomprehensible fury, the monster proceeded to obliterate the body, its leg a blur, as blood fountained with every impact. Roaring like a wounded god, the creature vented its wrath on the now thoroughly mulched corpse, and the ground beneath it.

"HATE!!" The creature bellowed, madness seeming to overtake it, as it continued to stomp the bloodied stone into gravel. "HATE. . . HATE. . . HAAATE!!!" A moment later, the creature stopped, glaring at the dead and dying littering the plaza, as it shrieked out in a voice that, to Celaeno, sounded in as much pain as it did anger. "DERPY. . . HOOVES!!" It shouted, the already abused stone of the plaza cracking further at the monster's volume. "REMEMBER. . . HER. . . NAME!! MAKE. . . YOU. . . PAY!! STORM KING!!" At that moment, the creature seemed to lose all sense, as it called two new weapons to each hand. The large metal tubes blazing, as it fired rocket after rocket into the surrounding buildings and docks. Not caring that the buildings were already a ruin, or that there was nothing left to kill, save Celaeno and her crew, the monster went wild. Blasts of shrapnel enhanced with black fire, turned stone and rubble to dust, and blood and flesh to ash, as the top of Kludgetown crumbled beneath the beast's psychotic wrath. As the stone cracked and fell away, the monster kept firing seemingly at random, as it ran towards Celaeno's ship. Then, with a thirty foot leap, it landed on the deck with a howl of fury.

Celaeno and her crew scattered as the monster landed, the deck splintering beneath its feet. Dismissing its weapons, it rounded on Boyle, grabbing him by the throat, and pulling him to eye level. A wet spot appeared on the front of Boyle's trousers, as he stared into an ocean of hate, concentrated into a single almighty glare. Barely able to breath, and feeling as if his neck was seconds away from snapping, Boyle was surprised the black flames didn't burn him, as the creature deafened him with its bellow.

"STORM KING!! TAKE ME!! STORM KING!!" Boyle started crying from sheer terror. It was then, almost independent of her own thoughts, that Celaeno called out.

"I'm the captain of this ship! You want passage?! You deal with me!!" Celaeno had no idea where she got the courage to yell at the monster before her, but it swiftly faltered when the creature dropped Boyle, and then wrapped its fingers around her throat, in a blur of movement. Celaeno just had time to marvel that she had never in her life seen anything that fast, as the beast roared again.

"STORM KING!! CAPITAL!! TAKE ME!!" Celaeno felt her guts turn to water, as she struggled to speak. Despite not trying to kill her, the monster was hardly gentle, and she struggled to breath through a throat that was one squeeze away from strangulation. Struggling to gather her wits, Celaeno froze, as she again saw the creature's eyes up close. Never in all her life, had she seen a gaze so filled with pure hate. The feeling was so intense it felt as if her mind, body, and soul were drowning in it. This thing, whatever it was, didn't just hate the Storm King or Kludgetown, it hated the universe! It hated the clouds for floating, and the grass for growing, it hated the galaxy for spinning, and the stars for sparkling. It hated Kludgetown for daring to exist, and despised its citizens for having the audacity to breath! This thing hated the very concept of life, and if it could have, Celaeno had no doubt it would have reached through time itself to wipe out her, and every other creature in Kludgetown's, entire ancestral line. This thing. . . it was rage incarnate! Celaeno struggled to rally her all but nonexistent courage, as she spoke in a wheezing whisper.

"Spare me and my crew, and I'll take you to the Storm King!" She gasped out. The creature gave a snarl, its eyes twitching as it processed her words.

"HOW. . . LONG?!!" It roared.

"A day and a half!" She croaked, black spots dancing on the edge of her vision. Suddenly, she felt the creature's grip loosen, and Celaeno fell to the deck coughing and sputtering. She could feel the monster's rage, like a bonfire as it spoke.

"ONE. . . DAY!! OR. . . ALL. . . DIE!!"

Mercy and Madness

Author's Note

Greetings everyone, Thule117 here just wanting to wish you all a happy Thanksgiving. I know the holidays will be a bit lonelier this year because of the virus, but remember that as long as the night may grow, the dawn will be all the more glorious for it. Stay safe, remember to wear a mask, and keep yourselves healthy. As always I wish to give special thanks to my editor Bronyshot2020 for his stellar work on this chapter.

Blessings of the Seraphim upon you all. And now, on with the chapter. . . .

Mercy and Madness

Twilight stared at the dead city with a mixture of shock and horror. It might once have been impressive, a city built atop a massive sandstone stack of rock, separated millions of years ago from the nearby cliff by erosion. In its heyday, positioned with the endless shifting desert dunes behind it, it would have been a shining beacon of civilization, amid a land of desiccation and death. Now however, that glory was likely gone forever. The stack had been dangerously undermined by the appearance of deep cracks and fissures in the superstructure, the topmost part appearing almost entirely reduced to gravel. While the now scorched and blackened nubs of what had likely been a pair of smaller satellite stacks, had been utterly erased by heat and explosive force.

As for the city itself, it was little more than rubble and ash. Buildings that had once clung to the sides of the stack in an ascending spiral, were either smouldering piles of charcoal, or imploded adobe wrecks. In some places, there were only the remains of broken supports hammered into the stack's side, silent testimony to the homes and businesses that had once been suspended there. The primary street leading up the stack, was all but erased. Across its surface, Twilight noted countless craters and pockmarks caused by explosive detonations and shrapnel. Cracks and fissures big enough to put her hoof through, extended across the ground from the craters like the roots of an invisible tree, running deep into the stone beneath. While scorch marks and the crackle of still smouldering fires, told of entire sections of the city's housing consumed by flame. And of course, everywhere, there were the bodies.

Corpses, dismembered, or with clear signs of horrific trauma, littered the remains of the streets and alleys in their hundreds. Most had been torn apart by gunfire or explosions, but others had been buried beneath the collapsing rubble of buildings, or trampled to death by their frantically fleeing fellows. Worse than that however, were the corpses whom had suffered the Doom Slayer's personal touch. Limbs pulled free from bloody sockets, skulls crushed by unimaginable force, guts and individual organs pulled from bellies and chests. Formerly living beings, ripped and torn apart by an unholy power, driven by an all consuming wrath. Congealing blood covered the ground like an obscene red carpet, and the charnel stench of corpses just starting to rot, was overpowering. What had once been a realm of life and commerce, had become a grotesque sepulchral ruin.

There was a time in her life, when Twilight would have asked how a single being could possibly destroy an entire city in less than a day, especially after running nonstop through the wastes for nearly twenty four hours straight. However, she knew better now. The Doom Slayer was a being who, even as a mortal stallion, had slain gods, monsters, and entire armies of supernatural killers. A city full of ordinary civilians didn't stand a chance.

"Kludgetown." Celestia declared somberly. "A wretched hive of scum and villainy. . . but it didn't deserve this." Luna shook her head, speaking in a voice heavy with sorrow.

"Perhaps not, but at least we can take solace in the knowledge that no truly innocent lives were lost." Twilight looked at Luna aghast.

"What are you talking about?! What about the families?! What about the foals and-" Luna cut Twilight off with an upraised hoof.

"I can assure you Twilight, nocreature would ever seek to raise a family here. Few would even deign to live here, were it not one of the few places in the world that criminals could do so without fear of the law. This was a city, by and for, those without scruples or morals. If you are unconvinced, then consider, Kludgetown's unofficial motto was: 'Everything has its price.' that included lives." Twilight's objections died in her throat at that. Yet, she still couldn't help but look over the ruin of the city with genuine sadness. How many of these supposed criminals might have changed their ways if given a chance? Even if only a single villain might have been turned, the knowledge that that chance to change had been taken from them forever, caused a sharp pain in Twilight's heart.

"I will check for survivors." Celestia declared, as, with a snap of her wings, she was propelled high into the air. Flying up to hover over the city, Celestia lit her horn. A moment later, an expanding nova of light particles washed over the entire city. With her eyes closed, Celestia focused, searching for even the faintest trace of life. All at once, her eyes flew open, as she pointed a hoof. "THERE!!" She shouted, Luna and Twilight nodded, as they took to the air, converging on the spot Celestia had indicated. Lit by a faint halo of light from Celestia's spell, an unconscious anthropomorphic cat, lay half buried in the rubble of a collapsed alley. Working quickly, Luna and Twilight cleared away the debris, as Celestia landed nearby.

"Be careful." Luna warned, as Twilight began to levitate the unconscious body. "He appears badly hurt." Luna was not exaggerating. Half of the creature's face, and a large chunk of his shoulder and neck, were covered in severe burns. The fur singed away, with the skin lightly charred and blistered, as it wept fluid. One arm hung at an awkward angle, clearly broken, and with the flesh beneath his fur badly bruised. His long tail twitched fitfully, while dust and blood stained his fur and the remains of the coat he was wearing, his body laboring for breath, as the three princesses carried him to safety. Twilight focused, as she reviewed every medical text she had ever read in her head. Her voice clipped and efficient as she gave instructions.

"I'll need clean bandages, water, and something to use as disinfectant. Also, something to splint his arm and make a cast." Celestia and Luna nodded as they flew off to find the needed supplies. Meanwhile, a pair of striking green eyes cracked open. A voice, barely audible through a parched and dusty throat, spoke in a wheezing tone.

"Am I dead?" Capper asked, struggling to focus the image of what he, at that moment, could only describe as: a purple angel.

"Not yet." The angel replied, her voice so beautiful Capper nearly started crying. "Now rest, my friends and I are here to help." Capper felt a bolt of terror course through him, as he recalled the horror that had come to Kludgetown.

"Forget. . . me! Run!! The monster. . . it will kill you! It came. . . it came to destroy us all! To punish us for our sins!" The angel's face swam in and out of focus, as she simply shook her head.

"I promise, he isn't going to hurt you anymore. Now rest." Capper, unable to argue through a haze of pain and exhaustion, slipped once more into blissful unconsciousness, as the sun began to set.

Captain Celaeno gripped the wheel of her ship tight, her beak clenched, as she tried not to think about what would happen, if she failed to make the deadline set by the creature now stowed away in her hold. Making the run to the capital of the Storm King's empire in a day wasn't impossible, however, it wasn't exactly a guarantee either. Already, Celaeno's crew had run themselves ragged, doing everything they could think of to increase their speed. Including throwing any unnecessary cargo and personal effects overboard, in hopes of decreasing the ship's weight. Yet even so, it would be a close thing, if they made it at all. The one positive of this mess, was that at least they were finally free of the Storm King. But in truth, it seemed they had merely traded one insane master for another.

The creature that had commandeered her ship, had given no name. Nor could Celaeno place what species he was, given she had only ever been able to see his eyes. She shuddered at the memory of those twin blazing orbs, knowing full well she would be seeing them in her nightmares. Assuming she lived long enough to have nightmares. Whatever the thing was, it was strong enough to destroy a city, and based on the one name she had heard it speak, she had an inkling of where it might have come from. 'Derpy Hooves', was a pony name if ever Celaeno heard one, and that meant that whatever this monster was, it had likely come from Equestria. It was then, that Celaeno had recalled a rumor she and her crew had heard in a tavern, from a grain trader who occasionally visited the pony homeland.

He had said that all of Equestria and the surrounding lands were singing the praises of some sort of hero, and for once, it wasn't one of the princesses. The trader had maintained that the creature was not of this world, and was the sworn protector of all ponykind. It was said he had put down the changeling queen Chrysalis's latest attempt to seize control all on his own. Defeating dragons, and even an Ursa Major, in the process. Most had just laughed at the trader, but he had sworn it was all true, saying the creature was supposedly the rightful King of Equestria. Celaeno, who had had a few dealings in Equestria before, had chuckled at that. Equestria had never had a king, and only the leader of the Crystal Empire had ever even married. At the time, Celaeno had told the old trader he should lay off the salt, now however, she wondered. . . .

"Mullet, take the wheel, I need to check on our. . . guest." Mullet, who had been coiling some rigging nearby to keep busy, stared at his captain in alarm.

"You sure that's a good idea Captain? He ain't exactly the talkin' sort." Celaeno nodded, hiding her fear as she handed off the steering column to her first mate.

"I won't be long. I just need to check something." Celaeno declared, as she headed toward the door to the cargo hold. The entity had not left the hold since going below, nearly twelve hours ago. Apparently he assumed the crew's fear of him was enough to keep them taking him anywhere but his destination. Celaeno chuckled grimly, if that was the case, then she had to admit he was right. Not one of her crew had so much as considered a betrayal. After what they had seen in Kludgetown, they'd have to be bat shit insane to double cross the beast they were transporting. Opening the door to the hold, Celaeno descended a flight of shallow steps into the lowest part of the cargo bay. The place was an absolute wreck.

Everywhere Celaeno looked, crates and boxes had been smashed apart. Grain, seed, and a few other staples had been ground into a dirty meal, on floorboards covered in smashed fruit and spilled vegetable oil. Countless pieces of splintered wood had been embedded in the floor, or punched through the walls of the hull by nigh immeasurable force. Fastenings for ropes to tie down cargo, had been ripped free from the inner hull and floor. Twisted iron cleats and snapped ropes were scattered here and there, while cracked and splintered holes in the walls and floorboards, indicated where the fastenings had once been. Celaeno stared at the destruction, and swallowed audibly as she recalled the cause.

Shortly after they had set sail with the monster, he had headed below decks to wait, only for a roar of ungodly fury to follow a moment later. Celaeno and her crew had, after a minute or two of hesitation, gone below. Only to find the beast tearing apart the cargo hold with its bare claws. Crates larger than the creature itself, and made from treated oak, where lifted and hurled into their fellows with the force of wrecking balls. The crates instantly turning to little more than splinters, amid novas of scattering seed. Bags of grain were used like clubs, to smash apart urns of cooking oil and barrels of fruit, before tearing and spraying their contents through the air. Bellows of madness and hate shook the ship, as the cargo Celaeno and her crew had been hauling, was turned into dust and ruin before their eyes. Only when Lix Spittle had pointed out the mark on the side of one partially destroyed crate, did they understand the source of the monster's latest burst of rage. Every single box, urn, and barrel, had born the blue horned emblem of the Storm King. A roar of hatred, that curdled the blood in Celaeno's veins, swiftly confirmed their guess.

"STORM KING!!!"

Celaeno shuddered at the memory alone, as she picked her way through the wreckage. She still had no idea what the Storm King had done to provoke this creature, but she didn't envy the tyrant's position. No army in the universe could protect against this monster. Moving furtively, Celeano tried to find the creature amid the shadows, the lamps having been destroyed by its earlier rampage. Feeling tense beyond words, Celaeno wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. This now felt far less like a cargo hold, and more like the den of some colossal monstrosity. Celaeno immediately recalled the time she and her crew had faced off against a dragon in its lair. . . this was worse by a wide margin.

Celaeno let out a sudden yelp of surprise, jumping into the air as a sound echoed through the hold. A low scratching, similar to rats gnawing on wood planks, abruptly interrupted the silence. Suddenly, the shadows seemed to shift, revealing a sight disturbing, both for what it was, and for the fact that Celaeno hadn't seen it until just then. There, at the point of the bow where the two halves of the ship met, was an unnerving scene. The creature was crouched on its haunches with its back to Celaeno, looking like some brutish gargoyle hovering over a fresh kill. Scratched into the wood of the ship all around its hunched form, in crude lettering, were two names, repeated over and over. The first name was always inscribed with a surprising degree of care, given the lack of overall skill, as if meant as some form of tribute, it read: Derpy Hooves. The other name however, wasn't so much carved as slashed into the wood, the letters jagged, and only barely legible, they read: Storm King.

As the flames covering its body flickered lightly, the creature extended a single blunt armored claw, and began scratching at the wood, carving another name. Celaeno stared at the eerie sight, as the skin beneath her feathers started to prickle. If she had any questions about the state of this creature's sanity before, they were now put to an emphatic rest. Gathering her courage, Celaeno cleared her throat.

"We uh. . . we should be in spyglass range of the capital in about seven hours." The creature gave no indication it had heard Celaeno, continuing its unsettling ritual without so much as a pause. Celaeno swallowed a lump in her throat. Even sitting almost perfectly still, and not making a sound apart from its carving, this creature was nothing less than terrifying. "I was j-just wondering. . ." Celaeno continued, trying desperately to hold onto her nerve. "y-you're from Equestria aren't you?" Abruptly, the scratching stopped, as Celaeno continued speaking, her fear addled mind urging her on. "I mean, you mentioned that name 'Derpy Hooves' so I-" The movement was so fast, it was all but invisible.

In a blur of black fire, Celaeno found herself slammed into the wall of her ship. Held aloft by her throat, her legs, one flesh, one a peg of rough green crystal, dangled a full foot above the deck. Her vision eclipsed by two burning pools of crimson, as a voice of volcanic malice tore at her soul and sanity.

"NEVER. . . SAY. . . NAME!!!" The beast bellowed, shaking the ship with the sound alone. "NO RIGHT!!! NOT WORTHY!!!" It roared, its voice vibrating Celaeno's bones. "DERPY KIND!! DERPY GOOD!! YOU. . . WORTHLESS SCUM!!" Celaeno felt terror induced tears in her eyes, as she nodded her head frantically.

"I'm sorry!!" She desperately croaked out. Almost unable to draw breath, as her abused neck screamed in protest. "I'm sorry!! Please!!" Relenting, the creature dropped Celaeno, standing over her as she gasped for breath.

"STORM KING. . . ATTACK EQUESTRIA. . . STORM KING HURT FRIENDS. . . STORM KING HURT FAMILY!!! STORM KING DIE!! KINGDOM DIE!!! ALLLLL DIIIIIE!!!!" Celaeno scrambled backward on her rear in terror before the rage of the creature towering over her, convinced he was moments away from tearing her limb from limb. It was then, for just an instant, in the molten red orbs of the creature's eyes, that Celaeno glimpsed the true depths of this beast's madness. The horror that glimpse inspired. . . was absolute. Flipping herself around, Celaeno frantically scrabbled her way up the stairs on her claws and knees, bursting out onto the main deck in a flurry of feathers and flailing limbs. Instantly, her crew surrounded her, helping her up, and staring at her with worried expressions. Celaeno gasped for breath as her heart pounded, unable to speak for nearly two minutes, as she got her trembling body under control.

"We need to go faster. . . ." She finally forced out. "If we don't get to the Storm King before the time limit, it isn't just our heads on the block!" Celaeno had a haunted, desperate look in her eye, as she spoke.

"What do you mean captain?" Boyle asked, trying to sound tough, even as he eyed the door to the hold nervously. Celaeno shook her head.

"That thing. . . I think the Storm King killed somecreature important to it. He's not just hunting the Storm King, he's planning to wipe out his entire empire! Every male, every female, and every hatchling! If he thinks for even a moment that we're trying to help the Storm King or delay him. . . ." Boyle swallowed, as he made the connection.

"He won't stop at killing us. . . our families, our friends. . . ." Celaeno nodded, her expression grim.

"He'll go further than that. . . he'll destroy all of Ornithia! Our homeland. . . everycreature we've ever known, will be wiped out because of us!" Mullet stared down in horror from his place at the wheel.

"B-but. . . that's insane?!! Nocreature could be that. . . that. . . cruel!!" Celaeno turned to gaze into Mullet's eyes with a chillingly serious expression.

"Nocreature? Maybe. . . but what about a monster?" Mullet felt his heart become encased in ice, as he looked at his crewmates.

"You heard the captain! We need to go faster!!"

Capper winced as he came back to consciousness. His entire body aching as he struggled to rise.

"Don't try to get up yet." Said a soothing voice, comforting, despite being muted by Capper's damaged eardrums.

"What. . . where am I?" Capper croaked, his throat raw. A blurred figure appeared before him, holding out something that glowed with a faint bluish color.

"Here, drink." Said a new voice, this one also incredibly soothing, like waking from a night spent in the grips of a wonderful dream. Capper nodded, as the mouth of a canteen was pressed to his lips. The water was sweeter than honey as it trickled down his throat, extinguishing the horrible burning heat that scratched at it. Capper sighed contentedly, as he lay back again, only vaguely taking note of the bandages covering half his face, as the blurs before him came into focus.

"Holy wastes you're alicorns!" Capper cried out, before descending into a fit of coughing, as his wounds throbbed.

"Easy now." Spoke the first, her dark blue coat, and mane like the night sky, combining with her gentle tone, to make Capper feel instantly relaxed. Again, she used her magic to place the canteen to his lips, and he drank greedily. The trio of ponies patiently waited for Capper to finish, before offering him an earthen plate, piled with dried figs, dates, and a few pieces of preserved fish. Capper dug in gratefully, only just becoming aware that he was starving. It didn't take long for him to clean the plate completely.

"I'm sorry there isn't more." Spoke the motherly voice of the largest alicorn, her flawless white coat and ethereal rainbow mane and tail, dazzling in the light of a setting sun. "I'm sad to say not much was left to salvage, we were lucky just to find the supplies to treat your wounds." Capper shook his head.

"Don't apologize, I'd be dead if it wasn't for you." He declared, his voice choked with gratitude. The trio of winged and horned ponies gave a sad smile.

"If only we had been faster, perhaps we might have saved more." The dark one lamented. Capper just shook his head, his jaw tightening as he recalled what had happened.

"No offense to you ponies, but I'm glad you weren't here. Nocreature in the world could've stopped that monster." The smallest of the three, the purple one from before, gave Capper a strained look.

"Derran isn't. . . he isn't what you think." Instantly, Capper's mind started whirling, recalling a number of outlandish sounding rumors he had heard, that suddenly seemed far more rational. His eyes widened as they fixed on the gold and ebon regalia of two of the alicorns.

"So the stories were true. . . Equestria is protected by a god." Capper breathed out, suddenly understanding just how lucky he was to still be alive. Doubtless he'd used up at least seven of his nine lives making it through this. The princesses, as Capper had no doubt that's what they were, shook their heads.

"Derran would be the first to tell you he isn't a god, he's a Guardian. It's just. . . right now he's. . . he's not well." The purple princess declared hesitantly. Capper, despite himself, allowed a sarcastic edge to enter his voice, as he glared at the princess.

"Really. . . ." He sniped, making the purple alicorn flinch. However, it only took a second for Capper to start feeling guilty. Part of being a good concat was seeing all the angles of any situation, as a result, the twist to this story was plain as day. "Sorry." He offered, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm guessing this all has to do with that invasion fleet we saw heading toward Equestria a day or two ago?" The purple princess nodded. "Well then, seeing as the rumors were true, and that. . ."

"Derran," The purple princess supplied. "Derran Grandel." Capper nodded, trying not to feel surprised that the monstrosity that had erased his home, actually had a name.

"That Derran Grandel really exists, and was protecting you, I'm guessing the Storm King's invasion caused all this?" Again, the purple princess nodded, only for the big white one to interject.

"Forgive us Mr. . . ."

"Capper. . . at your service." He offered with a slight bow of his head. The white one smiled, and despite all that had happened, Capper instantly found his own lips quirking upward. He'd heard stories that alicorns had special powers, it seemed making bad situations better with just a smile, was one of them.

"Mr. Capper. Not to make light of your terrible ordeal, or the loss of your home, but we need to find Derran, and are short on time. We cannot allow what happened to Kludgetown to happen anywhere else." Capper nodded, he guessed these princesses already knew Kludgetown was pretty much a haven for slavers, swindlers, and lowlifes, and the world was honestly better off without it. Even as one who had lived there most of his life, Capper honestly couldn't feel too much remorse for it. However, he couldn't argue that the creature he'd seen needed to be stopped. There were plenty of towns and cities in the Storm King's empire that were full of good folks, who had been unwillingly subjugated, or outright enslaved by the tyrant and his armies. But Capper didn't think this Derran character was in any condition to care about the distinction. Whatever kind of being he had been before, 'Derran' was now an engine of destruction, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like 'innocence', get in the way of his vengeful bloodletting. If these princesses knew how to stop him, Capper would offer whatever he could to help.

"The Storm King is always in his capital city: Thunderspire. He never goes anywhere except to occasionally deliver the final blow to a conquered city. Usually he leaves all the real dirty work to his second in command: Tempest." The princesses nodded.

"Her we've met." The purple princess spat. Capper chuckled.

"Yeah, she leaves an impression I'm told." The blue princess with the mane full of stars, stepped forward.

"Might you have the location of Thunderspire city?" She asked, Capper nodded.

"A day and a half's flight north-northwest, at the northernmost edge of the Bone Dry Desert. I've never been, but the place is rumored to be a fortress, they say it's supposed to be impenetrable." The face of the starry maned alicorn became a grim mask.

"No fortress built by mortal claws, paws, hooves, or hands, can stop the Doom Slayer." She declared, her voice dark, and clearly worried. Capper's eyes widened.

"Doom Slayer?" He asked, the name alone sending a chill down his spine. The princess nodded.

"Our Guardian's most infamous title, and if we are too late, likely the last name the creatures of Thunderspire shall ever hear." Capper nodded, a feeling of cold dread clutching at his heart. He didn't doubt for a moment, that the princess spoke true. . . .

Tempest checked the guards on the wall, for what was likely the third time in the last hour. From atop the city's defensive barrier, she also noted the preparations of the archers and catapults. Thunderspire was built to be a highly defensible city. Nestled between the feet of a massive snow capped mountain, it was bordered by sheer cliffs on three sides, making it inaccessible except from the walled front. The great wall of Thunderspire itself, was one of the crowning achievements of the Storm King's empire. Built by slave labor using countless tons of stone and iron, it was thirty feet high and nearly fifteen feet thick. It stretched for almost a mile and a half across the front of the city, connecting the two bordering cliffs flanking it. Massive circular towers every one hundred feet, were topped by ballistas and mangonels, while directly behind the wall were trebuchets, and hundreds of ranked storm beast archers, armed with massive greatbows. And atop the crenelated wall itself, were hundreds more storm beasts patrolling its every inch, each one armed with crossbows and spears.

On the side of the wall facing the enemy, sheets of smooth metal prevented easy scaling. While a ten foot deep and fifteen foot wide trench, twenty feet before the foot of the wall and filled with razor sharp iron spikes, prevented access to the wall in the first place. Beyond that, Tempest could see nearly three thousand armored storm beasts in neat ordered ranks, broken up into multiple phalanxes, and armed with spears and greatswords. Nocreature had ever breached the walls of Thunderspire, and Tempest was determined that none ever would. She was still shaken by her encounter with the monstrous king that had so easily shattered her invasion force, but she was largely over it now. She had met the enemy, and decided that while he might have been frightening at the time, she had his measure now. All her forces weapons had been treated by a special alchemical mixture, designed to allow them to punch through almost any magical defense. While their armor had been magically reinforced in a similar manner. It wasn't quite as good as the masterful enchantments a studied unicorn mage could create, but Tempest was sure it would be enough to at least wound the monster she had encountered. Or rather. . . she was sure if anyone had asked.

Tempest was quite good at repressing her emotions, a necessary skill in this cruel world. That said, no amount of repression could fully erase the terror of the creature she had seen. The Storm King had been reluctant at first to sound the alarm, but Tempest had managed to convince him that this creature was the only real defense Equestria had. Not to mention, if by some deranged twist of fate he really was the rightful king of Equestria, the princesses would likely do anything to get him back if he were captured. Granted, Tempest had no intention whatsoever of actually trying to apprehend the flame shrouded monster, but her employer didn't need to know that. However, despite all of her frantic and careful preparation, Tempest couldn't escape the gnawing feeling that she was living on borrowed time.

For a moment, Tempest allowed herself to consider how things might have been different, had her horn not broken. If she had not been rejected by her so-called friends all those years ago. Perhaps, if she still had her horn, she might have been cheering this creature, instead of cowering from it. Tempest closed her eyes, looking over the desert beyond the wall. Storm clouds, a dark steel grey, crawled across the sky overhead, a distant rumble of thunder echoing across the desolate sands. Closing her eyes, Tempest heard a voice, faint, but insistent, trying to convince her it wasn't too late. That if she just turned herself in to the princesses, and apologized for what she had done, that she might still have a chance to start over. Tempest turned to glance at the airdocks, wondering for just an instant, if there might be another way to stop this. . . .

A flash of lightning, and an almighty crack of thunder, snapped Tempest from her musings with a brutal abruptness. A wave of unholy malice washed over her and the Storm King's assembled army, directing their gazes skyward. At first, they saw nothing, save the clouds forming into eddies and slow moving whirlpools of dark grey. Lightning split the sky, bolts of dazzling phosphor white and searing electric blue, tearing across the sky as though seeking escape. Then, an arctic wind blew across the battlements, Tempest's eyes widening, as a polar chill sunk into her very bones. Finally, several miles distant, the clouds parted like a dark curtain, revealing a single nondescript airship under full sail, its prow pointed strait at Thunderspire. At that moment, Tempest felt her heart, stop. Though barely visible, a figure was perched on the bowsprit, a figure that sent a bolt of sheer terror through Tempest's momentarily frozen body.

"BATTLE STATIONS!! BATTLE STATIONS!!" Tempest screamed, struggling to hold her ground against a second wave of all consuming horror. As she watched, Tempest could swear the clouds framed the sky between the ship and the city like a massive corridor. Blasts of lightning weaving around the swiftly advancing craft, before grounding out, as if afraid to strike it. A roar of thunder, like the bellow of a malicious god, seemed to announce the coming of the vessel. Heralding its unholy passenger with unrelenting bellicosity. As she stared at the distant ship, Tempest steeled herself against her renewed fear. It was too late to reconsider her choices, too late for apologies or regrets, this was now a matter of survival. The creature aboard that ship had no concept of mercy, no understanding of forgiveness, it was death, it was annihilation, it was armageddon, it. . . was doom.

Kings and Killers

Author's Note

Hello my fair readers, Thule117 here with just a few words before we conclude this portion of our literary journey. First, apologies for it taking so long to finish this chapter. I ended up having to rewrite the end a few times before I got it the way I wanted it. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but after the third rewrite I felt it was 'put up or shut up time' as they say. Next, I just wished to mention that the next book, Legion is in the process of being written, and I look forward to you all being able to read it soon. That said, it might still take a bit to get ready, so please be patient. Additionally, I wanted to mention reader SilverVoxiphone who wrote a Blog post in which they explained how my story Guardian, is what turned them into a member of the brony community. Knowing that something I wrote persuaded someone to become part of the fandom I love, means more to me than I can describe, and so I felt it deserved special mention.

Finally, as is swiftly becoming tradition, I wish to extend a thank you to my editor Bronyshot2020 for his work on this chapter. I hope you all enjoy the final chapter of Doom Slayer and hope to see you all again soon when the first chapter of Legion is published. Now, on with the chapter!

Kings and Killers

Twilight stared at the creature before her, tears streaming from her eyes. To her left, Celestia and Luna stood with stern and angry expressions, that only barely disguised the heartbreak lingering behind their gazes. Twilight however, was unable to suppress her pain. The mask of disapproval she had wished to don, crumbling instantly, as she stared at the being in front of her. A being she now could only barely recognize.

His body was shrouded in a monstrous cloak of black flames, making him seem several times larger than normal. Flaring and coiling around him like a living thing, even as she watched it formed awful semi-solid suggestions of horns, claws, and immense bat wings. His eyes, once azure reflections of calm and love, had become pools of crimson light, their gaze burning, cruel, and hateful to the point of homicidal insanity. His usual aura of power and authority, had been replaced, by one that could only inspire terror and madness. Most unnerving of all however, was that even as he stared at Twilight, it felt as if he didn't truly recognize her. There was deference and obedience, however distorted, in his gaze and posture, but nothing more. It was as if he was a machine, a thing that would follow her orders, but had no understanding of who Twilight Sparkle actually was.

After teleporting Capper to Canterlot hospital, the three princesses had flown as fast as equinely possible in the direction of Thunderspire city. Having never seen it, and without a clear idea of what it looked like, magical transportation was impossible. And so they had pushed their bodies to the brink of near collapse, in frantic hopes of catching up to Derran, and halting his rampage. They had been able to shorten the journey via a few weightlessness and air manipulation enchantments Celestia knew, yet even so, they only barely managed to arrive in time. Teleporting the last few thousand feet with a sisyphean effort, born of sheer desperation. Nevertheless, even exhausted and covered in sweat as they were, Celestia and Luna presented a terrifyingly commanding presence.

"Lower your weapon Doom Slayer." Celestia's normally gentle voice was like steel, giving no hint to the subtle pain reflected in her eyes. There was an edge to her tone, a note of warning, that she was in no mood to tolerate debate. Yet, despite this, neither the Slayer's arm, nor his weapon, moved. Though, notably, his finger had been off the trigger since the three princesses had appeared. When he spoke, his voice was so vicious and filled with barely restrained malice, that Twilight could hardly understand his words.

"Dangerous. . . EVIL. . . must be destroyed!" The Slayer snarled, his gaze fixed on the creatures over Celestia's shoulder. His tone was vicious and guttural. The sound alone making the huddled masses behind the princesses, clutch at one another in terror.

"No, Doom Slayer." Luna interjected, she did not raise her voice, yet her tone commanded complete obedience, as she stepped forward. "Your rage blinds you to the truth. Look upon these creatures. Scared, starved, broken. . . how can they possibly be a threat?" The Slayer shook his head in an almost mechanical motion.

"Grow strong. . . become a threat. . . kill now. . . end it!" He growled, his voice like jagged glass. Celestia shook her head in return, her expression suddenly growing sympathetic, as she moved closer.

"Please my love. . . I know this isn't what you want." She offered, her voice gentle and soothing. As Celestia spoke, the flames around the Slayer seemed to recede ever so slightly. The wrathful light in his eyes appearing to dim a hair, as the arm holding his weapon seemed to relax almost imperceptibly. Then, as he replied, beneath the hate and anger, Twilight swore she heard a note of something like. . . sorrow.

"Not. . . want. . . but. . . MUST. . . keep you safe!" Luna shook her head, her expression also softening. Her voice somber, but filled with love and compassion as she spoke.

"We are safe beloved. You protected us. . . as you always have." The Slayer Shook his head, the flames seeming to recede another fraction.

"Didn't. . . save. . . you. . . Derpy did. KILLED HER!! . . . Can't let them. . . get away. . . ." For all the hate dripping from his words, there was now no suppressing the clear tone of regret and uncertainty in the Doom Slayer's voice. Now Twilight stepped forward, tears still streaming from her eyes.

"Derpy wouldn't want this!" She pleaded. "You were her hero Doom Slayer! What would she say if she saw this?!" A faint choking sound came from behind the Slayer's helmet, as his eyes dimmed a bit more. His arm trembling for a moment, as the hesitance and misery in his voice became more pronounced.

"Dinky. . . how will I face. . . let her mother die. . . ." Twilight felt like her heart was being pulled from her chest an inch at a time. She wanted to scream that Derpy was still alive, and he had nothing to feel guilty for, but Celestia and Luna had warned against it, shortly after they had parted ways from Capper. The Slayer and Derran needed to confront their loss, it was the only way to allow them to truly heal. Giving them an out would prevent that, and possibly, make things even worse in the future.

"You know Dinky thinks the world of you! She doesn't blame you for what happened. . . you're her hero too! A hero that she needs to come home!" Again the flames receded, as the Slayer's eyes dimmed another notch.

"Not a hero. . . can't be. . . must. . . protect. . . must. . . erase evil." At that moment, Celestia stepped forward again. Drawing herself up and opening her mouth, as she began to sing. Deciding to communicate her feelings in a way she knew, even the Slayer's darkest rage, couldn't deny. . . .

Song: Pain by Amy Wadge

The song was gentle, mournful, and heartbreakingly beautiful. Washing over the Doom Slayer and the civilians like the tide on the shore, and enrapturing them in the haunting melody. The results, were almost instantaneous. The black flames covering the Slayer began to flicker and rapidly shrink, as if being drawn back into his body by some unnameable force. His eyes suddenly flashing fitfully, as if struggling to maintain their burning quality. Instinctively, Twilight and Luna lent their voices to the song, the Slayer's outstretched hand once more beginning to tremble. Then, as they hit the first chorus, the black flames flared, guttered, and then died completely. The bestial outline of vast wings, savage horns, and cruel claws, vanishing, as if having never existed.

Their voices joined together, the three princesses doused the annihilating fury of the battle mad warrior, with a song of commiserating sorrow. The Slayer's outstretched hand swiftly going from a trembling, to a full blown shaking, his gaze flickering between bloody red, and ice blue. Then. . . finally, as his eyes flared like twin crimson stars. . . he collapsed. The gun vanishing from his grasp in a flash of scarlet and a crack of displaced air, as he stumbled to one knee. His head bent down as if by an immense, unseen weight. Then. . . as the final notes of the song drifted off into nothing, the Slayer raised his head. . . revealing an icy blue gaze, rimmed with tears. For a time, the princesses and the warrior stared into each other's eyes, one gaze expressing sympathy, while the other showed only a near endless pain. Finally, Celestia spoke, and placed the final nail in the coffin of the Slayer's rage.

"Derpy is alive beloved. . . ." She declared with a gentle smile. "She can be restored."

For some time, only silence reigned, as the kneeling figure, processed what he had just been told. Then, slowly, he reached up to grasp the sides of his helmet. The hiss of the pressure seal breaking, sounding oddly loud, amid the all consuming quiet. As, with near infinite care, Derran Grandel, removed his head from its armored covering. Twilight almost lost control of her tears completely, as she saw his face. Never in her life, had she seen somepony who looked so broken. His hair was soaked with sweat, his skin was deathly pale, and from his bloodshot and haunted eyes, tracks of dark crimson trailed down his face. . . . How great must the Slayer's pain have been, that he had cried tears of blood?

Yet, even all that, was not as heartrending as the look on his face. His expression looked delicate as crystal, his gaze hollow, he looked like he could crumble to dust at a single errant word. Averting his gaze, Derran seemed unable to look the mares he loved in the eye. When he spoke at last, his voice was so soft, it could barely be heard. Derran's usual confidence and strength completely erased, in favor of the trembling tone of somepony doing all they could, not to break down completely.

"Is this. . . true?" He asked, knowing his ladies wouldn't lie, but clearly desperate for reassurance.

"It is my love." Luna intoned softly. "And I have no doubt that when she recovers, she will want to see you." Derran nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"That. . . is good." He declared simply, as silent tears fell from his eyes. Twilight, unable to bear it anymore, rushed forward. Wrapping her hooves tightly around Derran's neck, she began bawling her eyes out into his shoulder. Celestia and Luna swiftly followed suit, holding him with their hooves, as their wings surrounded him in a cocoon of love and warmth.

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" Twilight sobbed. "I thought I'd lost you!" She declared. The terrible memory of his unrecognizing and wrathful gaze, making her tighten her grip, as if afraid Derran would inexplicably run off. For a moment Derran seemed unable to react, till at last, Twilight felt him slowly wrap his arms around her, Celestia, and Luna.

"I'm sorry. . . ." Was all he could manage to reply with, his tone miserable beyond words, as he held his lovers close.

For some time, they stayed like that, bound together by bonds of shared sorrow and comfort. Above them, the clouds ceased to thunder and flash, turning instead to a placid grey. Whispers echoed out through the crowd of Thunderspire citizens. Some wanted answers, others wanted reassurance, and some wanted to offer thanks to their royal saviors. However, it was Tempest, who finally took the step, clearing her throat to garner the princesses attention.

Separating reluctantly from their beloved, Celestia, Luna, and Twilight positioned themselves between Derran and the scarred maroon unicorn. Tempest unconsciously swallowed, as she fought back a sudden attack of nerves. Celestia and Luna's faces were impassive and unreadable, but Twilight looked like she wanted to buck Tempest across the face. For a moment, the former lieutenant to the Storm King hesitated, uncertain how to begin, before finally speaking in a tone of sadness and regret.

"I. . . I know it probably doesn't mean much. And, I know it's probably too late for second chances. But. . . for what it's worth. . . I'm sorry." She declared feelingly, before pausing to contemplate her next words. "I. . . I've been angry and alone for a long time. . . but, I know that's not an excuse for what I've done. I also know this change probably feels too sudden to be real, so I understand if you don't trust it." Here Tempest gave a humorless laugh, before looking at the ground with a placid, if sorrowful, expression, as if seeking something nocreature else could see. Finally however, she turned her gaze back to the unflinching faces of the princesses.

"It's kind of hard to explain, but I suppose. . . coming that close to death? Being that certain I wasn't going to make it? I guess it put a lot of things into perspective. . . ." Here Tempest took a deep breath, before bowing her head low. "I surrender myself to your custody princesses, and. . . if possible. . . after I serve out whatever punishment you feel is fitting. . . I . . . I would really like to come home." Tempest's tone was devoid of arrogance or presumption, her words frightened and exhausted, but pure, and from the heart. Celestia slowly nodded, but her expression remained unmoving.

"You have caused a great deal of damage Tempest. Likely more than you will ever know. . . ." She intoned, her voice was calm, but Tempest nevertheless winced at Celestia's declaration. "However. . . I can tell that this experience has granted you a measure of wisdom not easily found. We can discuss matters of crime and punishment later, but for now. . . ." Here Celestia stepped forward, pulling Tempest into a hug, and giving a small smile, as her tone suddenly became warm. "Let me be the first. . . to welcome you back home." Tempest tried not to cry, she really did, but it was like holding back the tide. . . impossible.

"I. . . I just. . . I don't. . . ." Whatever Tempest had been trying to say, was drowned out amid the sound of sobbing, as she returned Celestia's embrace, crying out her gratitude into the solar princess's chest. As Luna watched, she let the edges of her own mouth quirk upward, and even Twilight felt her anger swiftly ebb away into nothing. However, the heartwarming moment was abruptly ruined, by a frightened murmur from the nearby crowd, and a sound of slow, mocking applause. . . .

"Oh how absolutely darling! Really! I'm misting up over here. . . ." Declared the Storm King, his voice dripping with malicious sarcasm, as the crowd parted in terror before him. Striding through the masses with an arrogant swagger, as if he hadn't a care in the world, the King twirled a crystal capped staff absentmindedly with one hand. "Of course, personally, if little Tempest here were to stab me in the back, I'd be a lot less forgiving. . . oh wait." Suddenly, in a move so fast and fluid it could barely be followed, the Storm King hooked his foot under a discarded spear lying on the ground, flipped it into his hand, and hurled it straight at Tempest's back.

The spear never even got close. . . as a black blur leapt over Tempest and the princesses. Redirecting the spear into an end over end spin with a downward axe kick. Before sending it straight back the way it came, with a second perfectly aimed strike to the butt of its black iron haft. The bident spear whistled by the Storm King's head, missing by scant inches, before embedding itself deep in the cobblestone street, as a voice like an arctic winter, spoke.

"Tempest Shadow, is no longer your concern vermin. . . ." With eyes like twin chips of ice, Derran Grandel, interposed himself between the ponies and the Storm King. "Your fight. . . is with me." The storm King looked into Derran's frigid gaze with a bored expression.

"Ugh, this is what you're like normally? Honestly, I preferred you before. Noble hero types like you are so unbelievably boring!" Derran's expression didn't budge even an inch.

"Are you under the misinformed delusion, that I care for the opinion of a petty backwater tyrant?" He asked, his tone as cold and calm as a killing frost. Here the Storm King chuckled.

"See now, that at least had some teeth to it! You know, now that I think about it. . . you seem like an up and coming go-getter type. So how does this sound: you kill Tempest and give me the princesses, and I'll make you my new number two, whaddya say?" Derran's gaze narrowed.

"I would say: that you have entirely taken leave of your senses." The Storm King just laughed, as he leaned on his staff.

"Oh c'mon, consider the benefits! Piles of gold, command of an army, all the mares you want? Honestly, this is an amazing gig! And perfect for a murderous take-no-prisoners individual like yourself." At that, the crowd around the Storm King visibly shuddered, as a deathly chill suffused the air. For a moment, the King and Derran stared into each other's eyes, the tension almost palpable. Then, suddenly, lines of shining crimson light began tracing themselves over the waist, sides, and arms of Derran's armor. A moment later, there was a faint crack, as the upper part of Derran's suit seemed to break open from the back.

With calm and measured movements, Derran removed his chestplate, and tossed it aside. Arching an eyebrow in confusion, the Storm King was briefly nonplussed. "W-what uh. . . what is he-what is he doing?" He asked with a glance at the princesses, clearly flummoxed, but apparently still unconcerned. The princesses gave no response, their expressions like stone, as Derran answered.

"I have disgraced the Light, and my Ladies names, with my deeds these past few days." He replied coldly, his gaze like frozen steel. "Honor and justice demand I offer up penance, to atone for my actions." Here Derran glared at the tyrant, his tone unnervingly calm. "I have decided that you, shall assist me with that penance. . . ." The Storm King just continued to look confused, as Derran pulled off his gauntlets and dropped them to the ground, leaving him in nothing but bare skin from the waist up. Finally, he unlocked his helmet from his belt, and threw it to one side. Staring straight into the Storm King's eyes, Derran spoke in a growling tone. "Besides. . . it is rare indeed that I encounter an enemy who has seen me lose control, and has not been terrified to the point of catatonia, madness, or suicide. It would be poor form indeed, if I did not. . . honor, such fearlessness."

"And. . . how does getting half naked relate to that? Because just to be clear: I don't swing that way." The Storm King declared caustically. Derran seemed completely unphased, as he worked the kinks out of his arms.

"You, Storm King, have directly attacked Equestria. On any other day, I would kill you where you stand for such a blasphemy. However. . . today, I offer you the ultimate rarity. . . a way to alter your fate." The Storm King rolled his eyes.

"How magnanimous." He declared in a sarcastic deadpan. "Can we hurry this up?! Not all of us get paid to stand around and flex you know!" Derran ignored the jab, as he pointed over the Storm King's shoulder. Following his gesture, the Storm King, the crowd surrounding him, Tempest, and the princesses, saw he was pointing at the tyrant's slightly damaged palace, several hundred feet distant. A mass of polished black stone, partially embedded in the mountain, and overlooking a grand, flagstone plaza. A wide flight of steps lead from the plaza to the temple-like structure's entrance. The gigantic bronze doors to the palace flanked by massive fluted columns, holding up a frieze and stone tiled roof, all covered in carvings of lightning bolts and storm clouds, as well as the Storm King's arrogantly grinning face.

"The rules of our duel are simple. There lies the seat of your power, and here I stand, without weapons, and only half my defense. For every three strikes you give me, I am allowed only one. You are permitted whatever weapons you can find, I am permitted only my fists, and any weapon I can wrest from your hands. Should I be slain, you are free to do as you will. However, should I survive to stand at your palace's threshold, you. . . shall die." Derran declared, his tone as frighteningly calm as his expression.

"WHAT?!" Twilight's voice shouted. "Derran you can't be serious?!" Turning back to regard Twilight with a near emotionless gaze, Derran nodded his head, his voice completely neutral as he replied.

"I assure you my Lady, I am quite serious." Twilight opened her mouth, marching forward as she prepared to voice the opinion that this was the stupidest, most batshit insane example of toxic alpha-mare bullshit she had ever heard of. But was stopped. . . by Celestia's upraised hoof barring her path. Twilight looked up at her old mentor, confusion and surprise writ large upon her face.

"Let him go Twilight." Twilight stared at Celestia for a moment. Her former teacher's tone was strained, and her gaze was filled with misery. However, there was also a clear hint of anger, as she glared at the Storm King. Twilight turned back to Derran, wordlessly begging him to stop, to just come home. Wanting to tell him they could just arrest the Storm King and throw him in a cage in Tartarus, to tell Derran he didn't need to prove anything. . . . Yet, as she looked into his eyes, the words died in her throat.

Derran's gaze was stern, cold, and filled with a terrifying intensity. Sadness flickered at the edge of his expression, yet it was overwhelmed by a look of terrible and relentless purpose. Twilight felt her whole body turned numb, by a sense of sorrow, mixed with an unspoken acceptance. She knew without question, that nothing she said would stop Derran. Too much blood had been spilled, too much terror unleashed, too much misery bestowed, for him to let either himself, or the Storm King, walk away.

Twilight swallowed, tears in her eyes. She could tell Derran was in pain. Guilt and anger laying frozen behind his dark expression, yet eating away at him from within. Perhaps this fight would bring him no peace, but it would at least allow him to look those he loved in the eye. Closing her mouth, Twilight nodded her understanding, as both Luna and Celestia draped a comforting wing over her. She didn't need to be told, to know her herd sisters already understood her thoughts. Turning back to the Storm King, Derran seemed immovable as a mountain, as he spoke.

"I am prepared to meet my fate. . . what of you?" He asked, his voice as sure as iron. The Storm King simply rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, let's get this over with so I can get back to draining those sappy princesses magic and enslaving Equestria." He declared flippantly, clearly hoping to provoke Derran. However, Derran simply nodded, his expression unmoving, as he turned to face the Storm King.

"Very well. . . then let us proceed." He declared, his voice filled with an unshakable calm, as he moved to the center of a large thoroughfare between the massive hole he had punched through the wall of Thunderspire, and the Storm King's palace. As the crowd around them nervously parted, the king and the warrior squared off. Nearly as tall as Derran, the Storm King looked him in the eye with a bored expression.

"So now what captain dramatic?" He asked, leaning disinterestedly on his staff. Ignoring him, Derran took a deep breath, closing his eyes, he held it for a moment before letting it out. Repeating the process, Derran let his arms fall to his sides, his eyes still closed as he stood there. Then, suddenly, the atmosphere began to change.

The air seemed to thicken, a strange energy suffusing it, as Derran once more inhaled, filling his lungs with the smoke and dust tinged air. On the edges of the street the pair stood on, the inhabitants of Thunderspire suddenly backed away into the surrounding streets and alleys. A feeling they couldn't describe pressing down upon them, and urging them to withdraw. A strange weight of power, that was at once terrifying and calming, filling the area.

As Derran let out his breath, the feeling intensified, causing all, save the princesses, to whimper in fear. It was as if a massive invisible beast was rising up from Derran's immobile body. The denizens of Thunderspire instinctively shying away, lest they catch its eye. The temperature seemed to drop, as the steel gray clouds overhead briefly parted, a sliver of muted sunshine throwing half of Derran's face into shadow, as he opened his eyes. Across a body toned from countless ages of battle and struggle, a faint shimmer of light seemed to appear. Twin orbs, like chips of arctic ice, seemed to glow with a ghostly fire in his skull, as at last, Derran spoke.

"Now. . . we begin." He intoned, his voice reverberating through the air like the echo of a struck gong, as he took a step forward. . . .

Soundtrack: Dominance by Kenji Fujisawa

The Storm King gave a toothy smile, as the strange biped the princesses called 'Derran', advanced toward him with slow measured steps. It had been awhile since he had had cause to fight in person. Most assumed he was like other, lesser kings, who would never dream of dirtying their claws in actual battle. However, before he became the Storm King, the tyrant of Thunderspire had been quite the brawler, and had made sure to keep up his training, even after attaining his crown. This wouldn't be the first overconfident would-be-hero the Storm King had put down. With a manic grin, the tyrant spun his staff around his body, the weapon humming strangely as it sliced through the air. As the furless biped continued forward, his hands empty and his guard down, the Storm King laughed.

"Heroes. . . always thinking you're such tough shit. . . .'' Here he leapt forward, spinning the staff into position to attack, as he brought the crystal tipped head down on his opponent's skull. "RIGHT UP UNTIL SOMEONE PUTS YOU IN THE GROUND!!" He roared, as with a wet smack, he struck the first blow, forcing Derran's head down slightly, before spinning into his next attack. Bringing the staff around his body, the Storm King sent the head of the weapon straight into Derran's left temple. The sharp edge of the crystal, splitting the skin in a spray of blood, before the tyrant reversed his grip, and struck a blow to his opponent's chin from below. Jumping back, the King surveyed his handiwork with a confident grin.

A shallow cut ran across the side of Derran's jaw, but aside from that, he seemed none the worse for wear, as he continued his advance. The King blinked in surprise. Most creatures would have been down for the count by now, screaming out in pain, assuming they could still scream at all. Derran had made no visible effort to defend himself, and the Storm King had cracked rocks with blows less intense than the ones he had just bestowed. Letting out a grunt of frustration, the Storm King spun his staff again.

"Don't you know trash like you is supposed to kneel before a King?!!" He snarled, as he brought his staff in for another overhead strike. For a moment, the King didn't understand what had happened, as a blur of movement intercepted the arc of his attack. Staring down at his now empty hands, the Storm King just had time to wonder when he had lost his weapon, before he was grabbed by the fur around his collar. Eyes like an eternal winter, bereft of any emotion save a terrible, dark ferocity, locked onto the King's. As, with little more than a flick of his hand, his opponent sent him hurtling away down the street. Bouncing hard off the unyielding cobblestone, the Storm King cried out in pain, as he slid to a halt on his back, nearly forty feet away.

Forcing air back into his lungs, the Storm King pushed himself onto his feet to glare at his opponent. Still moving forward, the figure's features were like cold unfeeling metal, as he threw the staff he had taken to the side without so much as glancing at it. The weapon's haft embedding itself into the wall of a stone building, like a piece of straw hurled by a tornado. Bearing his teeth in a snarl, the Storm King cast around for a new armament. It didn't take him long at all to find one. The strange biped's earlier attacks had littered the streets with the mangled and half disintegrated corpses of countless storm beast soldiers, thrown there by various explosions. It was the work of a moment to find a still intact spear.

Bracing himself, the Storm King rushed forward, intending to impale the furless biped right through his gut. Unconcerned, Derran simply kept up his forward march, his face still not betraying even a hint of emotion. Pushing himself to his top speed, the Storm King roared in triumph as the bident spear's razor sharp tines, punched into Derran's stomach. The crowd and Twilight let out cries of fear and despair, that swiftly turned to gasps of disbelief.

The Spear had indeed penetrated Derran's flesh, both tines embedded into blood slicked abs. Yet, the spear, impossible as it seemed, had gone no further than a few inches. Halting halfway before where the two tines met the haft. The Storm King stared at the sight in shock, before stumbling. Even with a spear lodged part way into his stomach, Derran was still moving forward. The Storm King's expression of shock quickly turned to rage, as his feet skidded along the ground, unable to resist his unflinching opponent's advance.

Thinking quickly, the Storm King lifted his foot, jamming the butt of the spear into the cobblestone with a downward stomp. For an instant, the tyrant thought it had worked. The butt of the spear catching on the uneven stones and the spearpoint sinking a bit deeper into Derran's body, as he continued forward with the unstoppable inexorability of a glacier. Then, the Storm King heard the whining creak of strained metal, an instant before the haft of the spear, snapped in two. Derran stepping calmly over the pieces, as if they were no more than twigs.

The Storm King stared at Derran, his jaw slack, as the silent warrior walked right by him, his expression betraying neither pain nor concern. Shaking his head, the tyrant felt apprehension stir in his gut for a moment, before, with a growl of annoyance, he picked up the pieces of the spear. Twirling the spear halves like batons, one in each hand, the Storm King ran at his opponents back, before jamming the sharpened head of the spear into his collarbone, and the jagged edge of the broken haft in his opposite hand, into the region of Derran's left kidney. Yet, once again, the weapons penetrated only an inch or two into his hardened muscles, before stopping completely. Gritting his teeth, the Storm King yanked out the portion of the haft that held the bladed spearhead, in a spattering of crimson droplets.

"WILL YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?!!" He roared, aiming the twin tines for the back of his foe's unprotected neck. Again, Derran's reactions were like lightning, his body becoming a blur, as he whirled around. Grabbing the Storm King's wrist as smoothly and easily as he might pluck an apple from a tree. Using their combined momentum, Derran pulled his foe over his shoulder in a graceful twirl, before he once more hurled the Storm King down the street. Sending the tyrant's body smashing through the remains of a long abandoned market stall, in a hail of rotting cloth scraps and splintered wood. Never once during all of this, did Derran slow so much as a step.

The Storm King leaned on a nearby building, catching his breath as he rose unsteadily to his feet, the world seeming to spin around him. Behind him, Derran reached behind his back, to pull the jagged spear shaft out of his side and drop it to the ground. The Storm King struggled to retain his composure as he turned to face his still advancing opponent. "This is ridiculous! What in the name of Tartarus are his muscles made of?! Hardened steel?!" Glaring around, the Storm King tried to come up with a plan, just as his eyes landed on the broken bodies of a pair of his former soldiers. "Those ought to help." He declared internally, a grin coming to his face.

Twilight felt like her soul was being sliced out of her body a piece at a time. Her eyes were filled with tears, and every passing moment brought a tidal wave of emotional torment, yet she could not look away. This wasn't just unpleasant, it was barbaric! What did Derran think he was proving with this?! Even if he showed no signs of pain, the wounds Derran had sustained had to have been agonizing. Blood trickled from his injuries in sluggish streams, as a faint sheen of perspiration covered his body. Yet still, he moved forward.

Twilight couldn't take this, she wouldn't take this! Charging her horn, she prepared to teleport between Derran and the Storm King. If he was upset then so be it! She didn't care about his pride or honor, or whatever else he thought he was upholding with this insane stunt. She loved him too much to let him go through with this! Only a pair of hooves, placed on her shoulders, stopped her from completing the spell. Looking up at the princesses on either side of her in disbelief, her anger fizzled as she saw Celestia and Luna's expressions. Like Twilight, tears streamed from their eyes, but their faces were set in expressions of stern determination.

"I know how hard this is." Celestia declared, her voice, despite her best efforts, trembling slightly. "But please Twilight, trust that there is a purpose." Twilight wanted to argue that no purpose in the world could possibly justify this, but she stopped. As she felt the ever so slight shaking of Celestia and Luna's hooves on her shoulder. That alone, told Twilight more than their words ever could. Taking a deep breath, Twilight steeled herself. She didn't know what it was that the elder princesses knew that held them back from interfering, but she had to believe it was important. Still, as she watched the Storm King grab a pair of crossbows off the ground, she couldn't help but feel doubt.

The Storm King gave an unhinged looking smile, as he leapt to his feet after retrieving his two new weapons. Both crossbows were uncocked and unloaded, but it was the work of a moment to reverse that. Slotting his feet into the loops at the end of the weapons, the Storm King heaved the bowstrings back, till he heard the click of the latch. Fitting a pair of steel tipped bolts into the grooves, the Storm King glanced up, and let out a laugh. Derran had not increased his speed by so much as an inch, and was still a good thirty feet distant.

"Lets see if those eyes of yours are as resilient as the rest of you!" The King called out, as he brought the crossbows up, and took his aim. Derran made no move to dodge, as his opponent carefully lined up the sights, before pulling the triggers. The bolts let out a faint hiss as they shot towards their target, and the Storm King grinned, the shots had been nearly perfect. Contrary to his little bluff, he knew his aim one handed wouldn't be accurate enough to actually hit his target's eyes. So at the last second, he had changed the weapons trajectory, aiming straight at Derran's bare chest. Even if he missed the oncoming warrior's heart, he'd likely damage his lungs, a painful and crippling injury that, even if it took a minute, would eventually, but inevitably, kill him. What's more, there was no way he could possibly dodge or-.

The storm King's train of thought was suddenly and irrevocably derailed, as Derran's arm's shifted in a flicker of blinding speed. Two meaty thunks were heard by the King and the crowd of onlookers, followed by a collective gasp. Derran continued moving forward, his pace as unhurried as ever, and his expression giving not so much as a hint of discomfort, despite the two crossbow bolts impaling the palms of his hands. Dripping with blood, the steel heads of the bolts had stopped inches before striking Derran's chest, half their length having gone through each of his blocking appendages.

The Storm King stared, as the strange warrior continued to advance, oddly, making no attempt to remove the projectiles still embedded in his palms. What in the wastes was wrong with this creature?! He no longer had those black flames making him invincible! He had removed his armor from the waist up! And, to top it all off, he was bleeding from multiple injuries! Yet he just kept going! He didn't show any pain or concern whatsoever, just this absurd look of dark determination, that never wavered for so much as an instant. This 'Derran' creature was barely defending himself, and was clearly hurt. . . so why did it feel like he was winning the fight?

An icy chill shot through the Storm King, as he threw aside one crossbow in order to more quickly reload the other. His hands shook slightly as he pulled another bolt from the quiver of a dead storm beast, and he snarled in anger. It didn't matter how determined this pony loving wackjob was! Death by a thousand cuts still ended in death! With both hands now available, the Storm King was able to direct his aim with far greater precision. Lining up the sights with the advancing biped's skull, the Storm King smirked.

"Third time's the charm." He chuckled to himself, as the string snapped forward, and the bolt became a blur. The projectile's journey through the air took all of a split second, yet that was all that was needed. Derran's left arm became a streak of nigh invisible movement, stopping the bolt an inch from his right eye with a clenched fist, the bolt already piercing his palm having been snapped in two by the movement. The Storm King's mouth fell open, as the broken bolt fell to the ground with a light clatter, but his opponent wasn't done yet. Twirling the intact bolt around in his blood slicked palm, Derran gripped it by its fletching with three fingers, before throwing it back toward the King with a flick of his arm.

The bolt struck the crossbow in the Storm King's hand with the force of a rifle bullet. The weapon shattered like a cheap toy, as the bolt's steel tip split the frame down the middle. As the tyrant stared dumbfounded at the remains of his destroyed weapon, Derran, without so much as a wince, pulled free the bolt embedded in his other palm. Dropping it to the ground without so much as a glance, as he continued toward the palace. Backing away from the oncoming warrior, the Storm King cast aside the remains of the now useless weapon, as he felt an intense pulse of rage suffuse his body.

Who did this sorry excuse for a two bit comic book character think he was?! Coming into his territory, smashing up his wall, stopping him from killing that traitor Tempest?! This was the Storm King's empire! His kingdom! He was GOD here! Did this freakish furless piece of shit think he was greater than the almighty STORM KING?!! GREATER THAN THE CONQUEROR LORD OF THE WASTES?!! The Storm King snarled, his eyes bulging as he tore a pair of scimitars from the prostrate corpses of another two failed soldiers.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?!" He bellowed, spittle flying from his muzzle. "I'M THE STORM KING!! TERROR OF THE WASTES!! CONQUEROR OF KINGDOMS! DESPOILER OF HIPPOGRIFFIA!! DOMINATOR OF KLUDGETOWN!! RULER OF ALL I SURVEY!! THIS KINGDOM?! THIS CITY?! THE ENTIRE WORLD?!! ALL OF IT IS MINE BY RIGHT!!!" The Storm King continued to rant as he waved his two new swords overhead. "THE MAGIC OF EQUESTRIA BELONGS TO ME! I'M THE ONE WHO BROUGHT ORDER TO THE WASTES!! I'M THE ONE WHO MADE THIS KINGDOM STRONG!! THIS WORLD OWES ME ITS FEALTY!! YOU SHOULD BE WORSHIPING ME!!!" He screamed, as he charged at Derran like an enraged bull. With a psychotic roar of pure hate, the Storm King swung his swords down at Derran's head, only to find them blocked by his bare forearms. Though it could not cut through his bones, the razor sharp steel bit deep into the meat of Derran's limbs, only to be ripped free again in sprays of blood. In a flurry of flashing steel, the Storm King slashed repeatedly at his opponent like a mad dervish. Derran dodged or blocked the worst of the hits, but otherwise barely attempted to resist, his body swiftly becoming covered in cuts and stab wounds.

"DIE YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF FILTH!! DIE LIKE THE DOG YOU ARE!! DIE! DIE!! DIIIIIIEEE!!" The Storm King's shrieks of rage accompanied countless strikes, as overhead, a light rain began to fall. Blood and water swiftly mixed together, and trickling down from Derran's wounds, created a trail of crimson along the street, terminating at his booted feet. Yet still, Derran continued silently onward, as he accepted strike after strike.

"FALL! FALL!! FAAALLLLLLL!!!" The Storm King screamed, his sword swings becoming haphazard and barely aimed, as if he was beating Derran with a pair of clubs. Then, suddenly, abruptly, and without so much as a hint of warning, the blades stopped dead. The Storm King felt his eyes widen, his insane bluster snuffed like a candle in a windstorm, as a pair of blood covered hands gripped his wrists. A pair of eyes, like ice torn from the heart of a glacier, and seeming to glow with a ghostly inner fire, were held mere inches from the Storm King's own.

The swords fell from numb claws, clattering to the ground as the Storm King stared into those eyes, his mind straining as it looked into an arctic abyss. That gaze. . . it was. . . indescribable! It was old. . . so unimaginably old. . . filled with a sorrow and pain that no mortal could ever even hope to grasp. In those eyes, were held an ocean of unshed tears for every innocent life that had ever suffered the predations of evil. Yet, beyond that sorrow, was something that froze the King's very soul. It was. . . a storm. . . a storm of such unimaginable power and wrath, that it could scour entire universes free of life. So vast that no living being, mortal or immortal, could ever see its beginning or end. That storm, it wasn't fueled by the uncontrolled fury of the black flames, but by a focused, righteous anger, bound by a sense of duty as unbreakable as iron chains. This was not a look of unbridled hate, but one of absolute focused conviction. It was then that the King recalled the word that described that gaze. . . judgement. This. . . this was what they meant, when they spoke of the judgement of sinners. . . .

In that instant, The Storm King was certain he was going to die, that the creature before him was going to simply blink, and erase him from reality. Trembling from head to toe, the Storm King couldn't even summon the will to breath, as the figure before him, released his wrists. . . and continued walking. The Storm King fell to the ground, his legs unable to support him, as he stumbled, gasping for air, to his hands and knees.

The rain falling to the ground around him was the only sound to be heard, as the King turned his head to watch the creature continue toward the palace. For a moment, the King considered running, but swiftly discarded the idea. Even if by some miracle he escaped the city, he would never run fast enough, or far enough, to escape that. . . thing! Whipping around, he forced himself to his feet, snatching up a dagger that had fallen from the hand of another dead soldier, as he took a step back toward the princesses.

One step, was as far as he got, before he froze. . . . A feeling like his entire body had just been submerged in ice water, halting him as completely as if he had run into a brick wall. Taking one of the princesses hostage clearly wasn't an option, as every instinct within the Storm King's body, told him he would die before he ever got close. Looking around wildly, the Storm King's eyes fell on the cowering figure of a young malnourished storm clan child in an alley, yet once again, a feeling like being encased in ice halted him. Returning his gaze to the slowly retreating back of his foe, the Storm King felt his mind shatter, as he realized the reality. There was no plan to be had, no clever exploitation of weakness, no preying on the innocent for an advantage over the hero. Because there was no hero here. The Storm King wasn't fighting a savior or a champion, this creature was far more terrible than that. "Is he. . . ?" For some time the storm King stood there, his expression all but blank. Then, suddenly. . . he began laughing. Great heaving guffaws and unnerving cackles, indicative of a complete loss of sanity.

"What is a king to a god?!" He howled out, his mind becoming a shattered morass of violent euphoria and delirium, as he hurled himself with suicidal abandon at his opponent. A screeching warcry on his lips.

Clutching the dagger in both hands, the Storm King leapt into the air, putting his full body weight into a single plunging attack. Only to feel his jaw crack, as the heel of an armored boot, hooked itself under his chin, before with an impressively flexible twirl, Derran sent him bouncing down the street, spitting teeth. Ignoring the pain with a combination of adrenaline and madness, the Storm King flipped up onto his feet, hurling the dagger in his hand with all his might at Derran. Barely moving, Derran's right hand blurred, coming up to catch the dagger's blade between his middle and index fingers. Flipping the dagger into the air, Derran caught it by the tip, before sending it straight back at the Storm King with the force of a cannon shot. The Storm King cried out, as the horn sticking out on the right side of his head, was sliced off near the root. The bone hard appendage, parting like butter, before the nearly supersonic blade.

Recovering quickly, the Storm King gave a manic grin, as he seized a small dangling oil lamp from outside the remains of a nearby building. With great peals of unsettling laughter, the King rushed forward, hurling the crude clay object at his enemy. Raising his arm, Derran protected his face, as the lamp shattered, covering his left arm and part of his shoulder with oil. With a psychotic chuckle, the Storm King snatched up a second oil lamp and a fallen spear, coating the bident's head in flammable liquid, before swinging it at the stones beneath his feet. Sparks erupted from the impact, as the oil ignited, coating the spearhead in fire. With a blood crazed howl, the Storm King ran at Derran again, swinging the flaming weapon at his left arm.

In a flash of igniting volatiles, Derran grabbed the spear just below the head, before snapping it with a simple jerk of his wrist. Apparently unconcerned with the conflagration consuming his limb, Derran tossed away the spearhead, and grabbed the Storm King with his blazing hand by the neck. The acrid smell of burnt hair filled the air, as Derran brought his forehead down on the Storm King's nose with a crunch of breaking bone, before once more hurling him down the street like an unwanted buckball. The Storm King, his nose broken, half his teeth missing, and with the fur on his throat and neck singed away, came to rest at the foot of a towering statue of himself. The immense twenty foot tall carving, crumbling from the Doom Slayer's earlier assault, and cracked along the base, giving the now utterly mad Storm King, an idea.

Scrambling up the side of a building abutting the statue, the Storm King giggled as he crossed the roof. Pausing on the way as he discovered the remains of one of his archers, half embedded in the cracked adobe. Snatching up the warrior's abandoned greatbow and quiver, the Storm King looped both over his shoulders and waited. As expected, Derran had not altered his course, despite almost certainly knowing the Storm King's plan. Between the rain, and the swift consumption of its fuel, the flames on Derran's arm had quickly gone out. Leaving behind only charred flesh, that would have had any other creature in too much agony to stay conscious, let alone keep moving. Yet, Derran still continued forward, whatever pain he might have felt, hidden behind his unmoving expression.

Twilight couldn't understand why she wasn't moving. Within her, every instinct and desire, screamed at her to teleport over to Derran, knock the Storm King out with a sleep spell, and then take her love to the nearest hospital whether he wanted to go or not. So why couldn't she? Before her, the stallion she loved was covered in blood and injuries, even if he refused to show it, the pain he was in must have been agonizing, and all of this for no worthy reason Twilight could discern or imagine. So why couldn't she save him? Swoop in and make everything better like he had done for her a dozen times before? It wasn't that she was unable, in truth it would be astonishingly easy, the work of a moment. So what was holding her back?

As best Twilight could describe, it was. . . a feeling. A feeling that she could not understand or rationally explain. A feeling that kept her silently watching her lover tear himself apart, in the name of some misguided ideal she didn't understand. Tears streamed from Twilight's eyes, mixing with the rain falling down on her, to flow over her face in glittering rivulets. Her heart ached as if it was being stabbed by a white hot iron, and in her mind she was screaming desperately for Derran to stop. Yet there she stood, in silent agony, paralyzed and helpless. She saw the trap the Storm King was preparing, yet no warning left her lips. Only a profound sense, that she needed to see this, not just for Derran's sake, but for hers. There was something she needed to witness here, something she needed to learn. Yet, what that could possibly be, Twilight had no idea. As far as she could tell, the only thing she was learning from this, was what true pain felt like. . . .

To the enslaved residents of Thunderspire, 'hope', was a dead word. With the rise of the Storm King, hope had been erased by endless loss. First they lost those who dared question the words of the Storm King, cast down by their fellows for not wishing to listen to his honeyed speeches. After all, any who questioned the Storm King's promises of glory must be silenced, for they were liars and conspirators greedily seeking to keep the Storm Clan, as once they had been known, from greatness. Next, they lost their morals, sacrificed on the altar of false promises and self delusion. What mattered the sacrifice of a few children for experiments, when their blood would buy the rest of the tribe prosperity? Only when their sons and daughters began to be dragged away en mass, did the first voices cry out in alarm.

They were ignored, branded as traitors, if the King was to make them strong, he must have no one muddying his glorious message or defying his will, it was only the lowest ranks of families after all. Then. . . then their children were returned. That was when hope, truly, began to die. . . .

The patriot sons and daughters, so eagerly sacrificed, were no longer Storm Clan. . . they were monsters. Twisted abominations created through alchemy and psycho-indoctrination. They answered to the Storm King alone, with no memory of who or what they had been, nor the loved ones they were commanded to subjugate. Only then did the Storm Clan see the horror they had seated upon the throne. Those who were strong were dragged off to the labs for conversion to fuel the Storm King's armies, while the rest were used as expendable labor. Only too late did they see the truth, that the Storm King only cared for one subject of his burgeoning empire. . . himself.

Hope was lost swiftly after that, beneath the cracks of the lash, and the rattle of chains. The Storm Clan were rendered down, their spirits crushed, and their bodies broken. When the dark beast had come, howling for their blood, many had secretly welcomed the idea of it finally being the end. This dark titan, a brutal god from the dawn of time, had surely been sent as their just punishment, for letting their vile leader lay claw upon the throne. What else could so mighty and terrifying a foe be, save divine judgement? Then. . . when the princesses had come, they had been struck dumb with wonder. These ponies, even discounting the all but overwhelming aura of wisdom and authority they already possessed, seemed like ants before a raging forest fire. Yet. . . not only had they halted the monster, they had commanded it.

Then, before the eyes of the Storm Clan, the vengeful beast of black fire had transformed, into a warrior seemingly torn from a forgotten age. Without fear, he had leveled the playing field, answering the cruelty and treachery of the King with an honorable challenge. It was then that they knew him. . . for this warrior had stood among them once before. His appearance had changed, and his demeanor had darkened, but his honor? His courage? His power? These they recognized, and in their hearts, hope blazed anew.

It was the oldest saga of their clan, from a time so ancient few recalled its details, even as the story remained. . . . Ages ago, the god of storms had come, bringing floods, lightning, and tornadoes. Ever hungry, the cruel god had demanded a sacrifice of the Storm Clan, a single child every month, and in exchange, it would spare their homes and crops. Then. . . after many years of this, a young warrior, strong of body, quick of temper, and noble of spirit, had risen. Enraged by the cruelty of the storm god, he swore to do whatever it took to end the sacrifices. Though the Clan begged him not to, the warrior would not be swayed. Leaving his clan, he sought gods of light in a distant land. And under their tutelage, the warrior trained long and hard, till his body and will were like iron.

Then, on the appointed day of the next sacrifice, the warrior returned. And climbed to the top of the mountain beneath which his clan made their home. There, the warrior challenged the storm god for the fate of his tribe, enduring freezing rain, flensing winds, roaring thunder, and bolt after vengeful bolt of lightning. For nearly three days, he stood upon the mountain, defying the storm. Till his fur was scorched away, his ears deafened, his eyes blinded, and his horns melted down to nubs. Only when the storm finally relented, did the warrior descend the peak. His body had been scarred almost beyond recognition, but the storm god, unable to best him. . . was the one who had broken. It was from this event that the clan took their name, and as for the warrior, though blind deaf and crippled, he became the very first of the Storm Kings. Now, before the eyes of the warrior's descendants, it seemed as if the legend. . . had returned.

The Storm King giggled madly as Derran moved into the perfect position. Originally he had intended to line every street in Thunderspire with statues of himself. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to secure a large enough supply of black granite for both his palace and all the desired idolatry, so the project had been put on hold. Fortunately, they had still managed to construct a few along the main road leading up to the palace. At twenty feet tall, and nearly twenty tons each, they depicted the Storm King leaning on his staff as he gave a jaunty claws up. As he wedged himself between the damaged statue and the wall of the building, the Storm King savored the delicious irony of crushing his enemies with his own image.

At long last, Derran reached the proper spot, and the King put every iota of his considerable strength, into pushing against the back of the statue with his feet. At first nothing happened. . . then, with a crackle of breaking stone, the statue shifted. Redoubling his efforts, the Storm King gave a mighty heave, the statue finally beginning to move in earnest. Until, with a final explosive exhalation and a grinding of stone, the twenty ton mass of carved granite tilted, and began to fall.

Victory. . . the King was certain of it, as he clung to the side of the building. Watching with a deranged grin, as the upper half of the statue fell towards his enemy's unprotected head. This 'Derran' might be able to withstand arrows and swords, but nocreature could survive ten tons of stone collapsing on their skull! As if in slow motion, the statue fragment fell, turning so that the Storm King was granted a perfect view of his own magnified face captured in stone. With an unpleasant giggle, he imagined the carving gave him a jaunty wink, as it tumbled toward their mutual foe. The Storm King's giggle became a full blown cackle, as the chunk of rock obscured his view of Derran. Feelings of relief and elation flooding his body. . . only for the feeling to be shattered, by an explosion of rubble. . . .

With a cry of surprise, the Storm King released the side of the building, as he was peppered with micro-fragments of splintered rock. The faint hiss of the falling rain momentarily overshadowed, by the sound of stone hitting stone. Impacting the ground in a painful heap, the Storm King felt the breath blasted from his lungs, while his ribs screamed in painful protest. After spending several unpleasant moments on his back, forcing air back into his chest, the King turned on his side to see what had happened. Only for the color to drain from his face, as he saw the still moving figure of Derran, finish retracting his burned and bleeding left arm, from what looked like an overhead punch.

"Impossible!" The Storm King declared, his tone one of whispered terror, as a half forgotten story from his childhood, was suddenly recalled with perfect clarity. His mind crumbled even further, as he took in the halo of fragmented granite, surrounding the figure in the center of the street. For a moment, horror paralyzed the tyrant, only to be turned once more to frantic, insanity fueled desperation. Pulling the greatbow from his back, the Storm King knocked a nearly javelin sized arrow, pulling it back with a grunt, before aiming the trembling tip at his foe's retreating back. "You aren't! . . . You can't be! . . . I AM THE STORM KING NOW!!" He raved, as he let the arrow fly. To the Storm King's horror, the arrow only grazed the shoulder of his still walking foe, leaving a faint line of red on his right bicep. "You aren't real!" The Storm King declared, his tone one of pleading, as he nocked another arrow with shaking claws. "You can't be real!!" He babbled, drawing the bowstring taught as he prepared to fire again. "YOU ARE NOT REAL!!" He screamed, as the arrow whistled through the air, to clip the ear of the silent warrior.

The warrior did not so much as flinch, his steps as sure and unhurried as when they began. While the Storm King nearly dropped his bow, as his entire body shook with terror. Drawing the final arrow from the quiver, the tyrant forced himself to calm down. Ignoring the part of his mind screaming paranoid children's tales about ghosts and vengeful ancestors, as he pulled the bow to its limit. Taking a breath to steady his aim, the King lined up the arrowhead with Derran's spine, and took the shot. This time, his aim was perfect, the arrow flying straight at the center of the alien warrior's back. A flash of barely visible movement flickered through the air, as the arrow seemed to vanish, only to reappear in the warrior's blood covered right hand.

Still walking forward, Derran glanced briefly over his shoulder, his eyes blazing with an unearthly blue-white light. Before whirling around so quickly his limbs seemed to become invisible. The Storm King felt a rush of air pass over his fur, as a loud twang, and a stinging impact on his cheek, announced the greatbow string being sliced in two. The unusable weapon dropped from numb fingers, the Storm King feeling his eye twitch, as Derran finally stepped into the plaza just before the palace.

Seized by a sudden and all consuming panic, the Storm King grabbed a pair of dislodged bricks from the ground, before running straight at Derran with a lunacy filled scream that was a mix of terror and hate. Derran did not even turn, as the Storm King caught up with him. Smashing the first brick into the back of his head with the strength only the truly insane can manage.

The brick shattered against Derran's skull like crystal, amid a puff of red dust and burgundy shards. Skidding to a halt on the rain slicked stone, the Storm King didn't even appear to notice the loss of his weapon, as he stood in front of his foe, and swung the second brick at the side of Derran's head. Once more, the improvised weapon broke apart like poorly made porcelain. The dust and brick fragments mixing with the rain, to leave a smear of red across Derran's neck and cheek.

Now nearly halfway across the plaza, the Storm King, bereft of weapons, resorted to throwing a straight punch. Derran barely acknowledged the attack, as he caught the tyrant's fist in his left hand. With a grip like a vice, Derran pulled the King close, before striking him in the gut with his right fist, knocking the air from his lungs with explosive force. As the Storm King doubled over, black spots dancing before his vision, Derran continued past him without so much as a glance. Hacking and coughing, the Tyrant forced himself to his full height, before stumbling to his hands and knees, and vomiting.

Forcing his gaze upward, the Storm King felt a surge of panic, as he saw Derran was now only a few steps from the palace stairs. With what little strength remained to him, the King let out a scream of rage, as he threw himself at Derran like a wild animal. Leaping onto the back of his foe, the King clawed at his opponent's eyes, as he sank his fangs into his neck. Incredibly, it was like biting into a rubber tire, his teeth barely able to penetrate the skin, or the tensed muscle beneath. His claws had only slightly more luck, as they sliced into Derran's flesh, but failed to inflict more than superficial injuries.

Worrying desperately at Derran's neck with his fangs, the King screamed, as one of his arms was seized in a grip of steel. Bones turned to powder, as the Storm King was pulled from his perch, and smashed into the palace steps. Dazed, and blinded by pain, the Storm King barely noticed, as he was sent flying through the air like a cannon shot, to slam heavily into the massive bronze double doors of his palace. Opening his eyes, the world spun around the tyrant, his vision blurring, as it came to rest on the figure slowly advancing up the steps. In that instant, the Storm King, died. . . . All that remained of the arrogance, the confidence, the megalomania, and even the insanity that made up his personality, and had shielded him from fear or doubt for so long, vanished, in the face of a penultimate, primal terror. . . .

Up the stone steps of the palace, came a figure that seemed an image torn from the nightmares of every monster, evil beast and unjust ruler, since the beginning of creation. Wings of flaming golden feathers spread from its shoulders, blotting out all shadows and darkness, as they seemed to surround the king in an all consuming golden light. From the depths of a hooded silk robe as black as the void, trimmed in red thread that smoldered like a burning brand, a pair of blue eyes, shining with an unearthly light, tore into the depths of the Storm King's soul. The being was immense, taller than any mountain, broader than the sky, and more ancient than time itself. A halo of golden flame surrounded its head like a crown. And as it moved forward, the universe itself seemed to tremble at its every step.

A scream of true horror was ripped from the throat of the being known as the Storm King. The pain in his broken arm vanished in the face of his terror, as he scrambled to open the doors of his palace with his good arm, before slamming them shut behind him. His feet skidding on the polished stone tiles of his palace, the fear maddened former ruler slammed his fist against a hidden button near the door. The sound of gears turning and mechanical devices whirling, were nearly drowned out by the fallen king's continued screaming. As massive pieces of lumber emerged from the stone walls on either side of the door, and slotted into thick loops of beaten steel. Not staying to see the palace entrance finish its lockdown, the screaming tyrant ran into the throne room. Tripping over an ostentatiously decorated carpet, he spun in the air, falling on his back to stare up at the high vaulted ceiling, supported by massive pillars carved in his likeness.

As he scrambled to his feet, the broken tyrant struggled to catch his breath, just as a massive deafening boom echoed through the palace interior. Turning with wide and tear filled eyes, the former king felt as if his very life-force was draining away, as his gaze fell upon the doors. The two, twelve foot tall and half foot thick hunks of solid bronze, each emblazoned with the heraldry of the Storm King, had been bent inward, as if struck by a battering ram. Already, the timbers barring the door had begun to splinter. The alchemically treated beams of oak, one foot by one foot square, fifteen feet long, and as strong as iron, had been designed to stop conventional invaders in their tracks. But it had never been intended to stop a god. . . .

Scurrying like a rat in a sinking ship, the figure of the terror stricken king, hid himself behind a support pillar, as another deafening boom sounded. The doors to the palace bulged and warped as if made of clay. The lowest oak beam snapping in two, and partially ripping free the brackets holding it in place. The other two beams cracking and splintering, as daylight shone through the point where the two doors met. There was a brief pause, during which the cowering figure of the hapless tyrant dared to hope the monster had gone away. However, that flicker of hope was swiftly extinguished, as, with a scream of tortured metal and snapping wood, the door exploded inward. . . .

The former king struggled to suppress another scream, as the double doors were ripped from their hinges and sent flying into the throne room, as twisted hunks of scrap metal. Consumed by terror, the king made a frantic break toward the throne, hoping perhaps to hide behind it. Amazingly, he almost managed to reach his destination, before, like a bolt of divine lightning, a bident spear sheared clean through his right leg. A scream of agony was forced from the lips of the tyrant, as he fell to the ground before his throne. Just managing to turn over as he clutched at the stump of his amputated limb, the horrified former king stared at the figure in the door frame.

Covered in cuts and stab wounds, one arm and part of his chest and neck badly burned, and his hair matted with blood and rainwater, the figure seemed no less terrifying than the vision from a moment ago, as he walked unhurriedly into the hall of the Storm King. The wretched figure before the throne, quailed in the presence of this bloodied and battered being, pinned to the spot by eyes of icy blue, lit from within by an unnameable ghostly radiance.

"I give up!" The Storm King cried out, tears streaming from his eyes as he pleaded for his life. "Please! I give up!" The figure of Derran Grandel paused for a moment, his expression unreadable, as he strode over to the pillar closest to the Storm King. Like all the others, it was carved into the image of the tyrant himself, smiling as he gave a double finger gun gesture to the empty room. The vain sculptures turning the seat of a government into a temple of ego. Examining the pillar, Derran spoke in a tone of absolute calm.

"Do you recall what I mentioned earlier? About honoring your courage?" He asked simply. For a moment, the former Storm King simply stared, pain and the beginnings of blood loss making his thoughts sluggish.

"Yes. . . yes I remember!" He slurred, his voice desperate and pleading. "Please, I'm losing blood!" Derran appeared not to hear, as he turned to look impassively at the dying king, before suddenly seeming to vanish. A second later, a blur of motion slammed into a nearby support pillar. A massive hunk of its base exploding into dust and rubble, as cracks spiderwebbed through it. Almost faster than the king could keep track of, the blur moved from pillar to pillar in a rough outward spiral. With a sound like a sledge smashing through a brick wall, support after support had their bases all but obliterated, in a fountain of rubble and dust. The sounds of destruction rang through the cavernous throne room, each individual echoing crack of stone, combining together in a roaring cacophony, till finally, it ceased. In a blur of motion, Derran appeared once more before the crippled tyrant, to stand beside the one pillar he had left intact.

"There is something I may have neglected to mention." Deran stated, his expression and voice like stone and ice, as he grabbed hold of the final pillar with his right hand, fingers like diamond rail spikes, embedding themselves part way into the stone. His muscles bulged, veins popped out on his straining arm, and his face flushed slightly, but Derran's expression remained frozen in a wrathful glare. As the king watched, a fresh jolt of adrenaline cleared his mind and vision, as the pillar. . . began to move.

The tyrant stared, his eyes wide as saucers, and his mouth gaping. Each of the pillars supporting his palace weighed nearly twenty five tons! It had taken hundreds of laborers days just to haul one of them into position! Nocreature could be strong enough to push one over with a single arm! It was impossible! Yet, even as the thought crossed the king's mind, the pillar wobbled, cracks appearing at the point where it met the ceiling. "Aside from the seraphim, only two kinds of creature have ever held no fear of me. . . ." Derran intoned, his voice terrifyingly steady, as dust fell from the ceiling, the cracks at the pillar's base beginning to extend into the roof above. "The first. . . are those too insane to understand the danger I represent. . . ." With a loud crack, a fissure appeared in the pillar near the top, the room beginning to shake, as the already damaged supports began collapsing. Chunks of roof fell from the ceiling, as the entire structure of the building was critically undermined. Yet, amid it all, Derran stood impassive and unafraid, continuing to speak, even as the last remnant of an empire crumbled around him. "The second. . . are those too foolish to recognize the danger I represent. . . ." Paralyzed by an all consuming combination of fear and awe, the Storm King could only watch as his palace began to shake itself to pieces, while Derran spoke the last words the tyrant would ever hear, in a voice devoid of all emotion. . . .

"Congratulations. . . on not being insane."

With a final booming crack of sundered stone, the pillar in Derran's hand broke away from the ceiling. Guided by an arm like an iron beam, the massive hunk of disintegrating rock, hurtled down toward its screaming target. The last thing the Storm King, the Tyrant of the Wastes, the Despoiler of Hippogriffia, Dominator of Kludgetown, and self proclaimed god, ever saw, was his own smiling stone face. . . an instant before it crushed him into bloody pulp.

As the citadel of the Storm King crumbled into ruin, Derran turned on his heel, rubble cascading down around him, yet never seeming to strike him, as he walked towards the shattered door, and the light beyond. . . .

The rain had stopped. . . . That was the first thing Twilight noticed, as Derran emerged from the collapsing palace. Overhead, the clouds parted, and warm sunlight bathed the cracked cobblestone streets, partially destroyed buildings, and shattered wall of the city of Thunderspire. Steam began to fill the air, as the unrelenting heat of the desert wastes gradually reasserted itself. Within minutes, the entire city and the desert beyond, were enveloped in a thick cloud of evaporating mist. The silence was deafening, as if the opaque vapor was somehow smothering all sound.

Then, a bloodied, bipedal figure appeared like a ghost from the fog. He was covered in horrendous injuries. His chest, stomach and arms, all bore horrific cuts, some so deep Twilight could swear she saw the pale glimmer of bone. One arm, and part of his shoulder, were charred and blackened, the skin cracking and weeping from burns that should have been crippling. One side of his head had swollen slightly around an ugly gash, and a mixture of sweat and water trickled and dripped from him onto the street. Yet, despite his injuries, the figure walked with his head held high, and his expression set, as if simply taking an energetic stroll about town.

Twilight watched as the figure passed through the crowd of Thunderspire citizens. Parting before Derran like smoke before the wind, they fell to their knees and bowed their heads, whispering what sounded like prayers to their ancestral spirits. Derran ignored them, acting as if he were alone in the mist, as he gathered up his armor. Redonning his cuirass and gauntlets before locking his helmet to his belt, Derran did not speak a single word, or make any move to treat his injuries. More than that however, he seemed unable to look either Twilight, Celestia, or Luna, in the eye.

"I will head home by foot my Ladies. . . ." He stated simply, his tone empty of all but the barest phantasm of emotion.

"Will you not. . . allow us to dress your wounds?" Luna asked, her tone resignedly hesitant, as if she already knew the answer.

"I will be fine." Derran stated, his strange lack of emotion seeming almost to chill the air around him.

"But you. . . ." Twilight trailed off, as Derran turned to leave. She wanted to say more, inside she was virtually screaming, yet the words wouldn't come.

"I will be fine." Derran repeated, his tone like a featureless slab of stone. However, no sooner had he taken his first step toward the fog shrouded desert beyond the city, than a small child rushed out from the crowd. She was dressed in a filthy assortment of rags, and her thin spindly arms, matted fur, and gaunt features, indicated she was partially starving. She had expressive, wide blue eyes, and couldn't have been much older than five or six. Moving as fast as her legs would carry her, she wrapped her arms tightly around one of Derran's legs, before anycreature could stop her.

"Thank you!" She cried out, tears trickling from her eyes as she nuzzled her black furred cheek against the side of Derran's knee. Celestia, Luna, Tempest, and the entirety of the Thunderspire citizenry, stared at the child with stunned expressions, that swiftly turned to exhausted smiles. Only Twilight, by error or chance, continued looking at Derran. And so it was only she alone, who saw it. . . .

It was only for an instant. . . but to Twilight, it was an instant that filled her with a feeling of absolute horror. As Derran looked down at the storm clan child, hugging and thanking him, something flitted across his icy blue gaze. It was a look. . . a look that Twilight didn't even have the words to put a name to. It was ugly, twisted, filled with disgust and a naked, arrogant hatred that Twilight could scarcely comprehend. It was as if Derran was not looking at a child at all, least of all one expressing gratitude, and instead was staring at a bulbous leech, that had somehow affixed itself to his armor. As Derran raised his hand, Twilight opened her mouth to call out a warning, as she prepared to yank the child away with her magic. In that second, she had been dead certain that Derran was about to crush the filly's skull. Yet, when his hand came down, it was only to give her a gentle pat on her horned head.

"You are. . . welcome." He said slowly, his voice still mostly emotionless, but calm.

Twilight blinked, Derran's gaze was once again normal, even if his face remained strangely inexpressive, like a mask of stone. For a moment, she wondered if she was seeing things. That look in his eyes. . . it couldn't have been real, could it? Derran was. . . ok he wasn't perfect, but he'd never kill a child, that was absurd! Derran was a lot of things, but he wasn't a butcher, maybe the Doom Slayer could justify such atrocities, but even then, only when in a blind rage. . . . Derran wasn't like that. Derran was kind, calm, chivalrous, he was a warrior, not a monster. . . .

This time, when Derran turned to leave, Twilight felt no inclination to stop him. There were times before when Twilight had had cause to fear Derran. When she first met him, she feared the unknown quantity he represented. When he had broken her heart, she feared he had never truly cared for her. And when she saw him swathed in the black flames, she had feared his mind had been lost forever to his rage. Never before however, had she truly feared Derran himself. . . until now. She watched Derran walk across the massive crater in the now shattered Thunderspire wall. His gait slow and his tread heavy, Twilight carefully studied his every movement, until the mists beyond the wall swallowed him up.

For some time, Twilight stared at the point where Derran had vanished. At her side, Celestia and Luna turned to speak with the crowds of smiling Thunderspire citizens, already seeking to gain new allies, and repair the damage the Storm King and Derran had wrought. Twilight however, was oblivious to it, standing stock still, as she replayed the events of the last few minutes in her mind. Searching through Derran's words and actions, hoping to understand his thinking, and to explain away what she had seen. Derran's sorrow? His repentance? His grief? Twilight had thought it was for the lives the Doom Slayer took, and the destruction that was inflicted, but now. . . a dark and unpleasant thought made her wonder. . . was Derran's sorrow truly for the lives that he had taken? Or was it perhaps. . . only, for her and her fellow princesses?

Soundtrack: Waiting for the Thunder by Helloween

DERRAN WILL RETURN IN THE FINAL BOOK OF THE GUARDIAN SAGA: LEGION!

This story is dedicated to all those loved ones lost to the COVID-19 pandemic. Gone but not forgotten, we hold you always in our hearts.

Special thanks to:

My loving parents, who still care even when I drive them crazy.

My friends, who still want to hang out with me despite my pony loving madness.

My little sister, who plays video games with me despite me taking it way too seriously.

My editor Bronyshot2020 for all his hard work in making my stories shine.

ID Software, for bringing us the demon slaying catharsis we need in these trying times.

All my incredible readers, who are constantly inspiring and pushing me forward.

And of course, the creators of MLP, may the new generation be as amazing as the last!

Revelation and Ruin

Author's Note

Greetings everyone, Thule117 here just wanting to wish you all a happy new year, and hoping you all had wonderful holiday celebrations. I know that for a lot of us 2020 has become a symbol of dark tidings and hardship. And while things might not get better instantly just because its 2021, I believe there is good reason to hope that the future will be brighter. It will take time, effort, and yes, more sacrifice and hardship, but I am confidant that 2021 will eventually lead us to better days. I look forward to continuing into the future with all of you, and I hope my stories will continue to delight you into the new year.

As ever I wish to extend gratitude to my editor Bronyshot2020 for his outstanding work in helping this chapter reach its full potential. Now, on with the story. . . .

Revelation and Ruin

The creature stared down at the walled and fortified city with a burning hatred. Its thoughts disjointed and incoherent, from a mix of rage and madness, but still lucid enough for some degree of satisfaction. Its thoughts briefly aligning into something akin to sanity. Finally, the creature was here, the home of the bastards who killed Derpy! The fuckers that had the balls to come into its home, attack its family, and then run away like little whipped bitches thinking they could hide! The monster's fingers twitched, as the red mist through which it saw the world thickened. It wouldn't rest till these worthless stains of liquid dragon shit and all their friends paid! It was gonna gut their kids in front of em', stomp the corpses into paste, and ram what was left down their Light damned throats! It was gonna rip off their limbs and stack their bodies in a nice big pile at the center of the city, while they were still alive and screaming! Then he'd coat em' all in oil and watch em' fry!

The beast snarled aloud, its fists tightening. It was gonna make sure to give Derpy a grand sendoff, writing her name in fire and gore across the Storm King's entire empire, so nocreature would ever forget her! At the same time, it would make certain Dinky could sleep at night, knowing every one of her mamma's killers had paid for taking her away! The creature would insure that every chickenshit piece of heretic garbage, who thought they were safe as long as they sucked the Storm King's cock, died on their knees, begging for their worthless lives! Then, when it found the Storm King, the creature was gonna take its time. Maybe it would impale the fucker on an iron spike atop his palace, let him squeal as he bled out?! Or castrate him with a blunt knife heated to two thousand degrees?! Maybe the beast would find some lead to melt down, and fix its buddy the king a nice hot drink?! Before that though, it was gonna make the bastard watch, as everything he claimed as his, was turned to ash in front of him! Then it would move on to the traitor, Tempest! Maybe it would hack off her legs one at a time and give her an object lesson of how its species weren't exactly vegetarian. . . it had been awhile since the entity had had a nice steak dinner. . . .

"Made it! Thank the wastes!"

The creature was pulled from its vengeful, fury addled thoughts, by the relieved declaration of one of the ship's crew. For an instant, a nearly overwhelming desire to spill the loudmouth's blood, assailed the beast, but it held itself back. Satisfying as it would be to butcher the crew of anthropomorphic parrots, it had made them a promise. Even reduced to little more than a ravening force of violence, the creature still clung to some semblance of honor. Nevertheless, it was sorely tempted, as the captain, Ceelmo or something, the creature hadn't really paid attention, and didn't really care, approached with fear in her eyes. The beast let out a low growl. Small wonder the Storm King was able to do what he liked without consequence, with spineless shits like this everywhere. If the common people of this forsaken empire had stood up to the Storm King from the beginning, then Derpy might still be alive! It made the beast's blood boil, and he became momentarily distracted by half-formed fantasies of the horrors he would inflict on the rest of the Storm King's realm.

"W-we did as you asked, the Storm King should be in his palace at the foot of the mountain." The voice of the captain, focused most of the creature's mind back on the present, but it still resented the interruption.

"You. . . live." The creature growled, its voice no less monstrous for its lower than normal volume. The captain let out an explosive sigh of relief.

"Right, we'll land the ship just out of-"

"No. . . ." The creature growled. The captain balked, staring at the beast in shock.

"What?" She asked, more by reflex than anything.

"NO. . . LANDING!" The monster roared, furious at having to repeat itself, as it began moving away. The captain stared, as the creature walked out to the end of the bowsprit. "Keep going. . . then. . . run!"

Nodding, the anthropomorphic parrot turned to take the wheel from one of her crew. Celaeno wasn't exactly sure what the being that had hijacked her ship was thinking, but she wasn't going to argue. Around the ship, the nearly pitch black clouds, roared with thunder, as forks of lightning the thickness of trees lit them from within. The wind at the ship's back was strong, and howled lightly as it whistled through the rigging. As the wind sped them forward, the ship rocked to and fro, occasionally shuddering violently. Celaeno and her crew felt a tension in their guts, as the creature on the bowsprit glared down at the assembled army of the Storm King, nearly three thousand feet below. Suddenly, the creature turned back to glare at Celaeno and her crew, his crimson gaze burning into their minds and souls.

"See you again. . . you. . . die!" Before Celaeno could even consider a reply, the creature turned away, released the rigging, and stepped out into mid air. As the unquenchable black flames licking across its armor, blazed to new heights. . . .

Tempest stared at the oncoming ship, some three thousand plus feet overhead. In only a few minutes it would be over the city, and Tempest immediately began barking orders to reorient the ballista and catapults. Only to suddenly stop dead as she glanced back at the sky. She could not have said how, but in a sudden moment of perfect clarity, Tempest saw a familiar, terrifying outline, standing atop the bowsprit. Eyes like twin volcanic craters, glared down at Tempest with a supreme rage, just before the figure stepped from the ship.

The creature fell to earth like an obsidian meteor, as the black flames clinging to it flared outward, to all but obscure the figure at its center. As it hurtled through the air, bolts of lightning blasted toward it from every direction, striking the entity as it descended in a blinding flash of actinic light. In that instant, as Tempest and all of Thunderspire watched, the lightning joined with the creature, arcing and flashing, as the many bolt's on either side of him, webbed together, before joining into a single stream at each of the plummeting figure's outstretched arms. The impression overall, was that the descending monster was spreading a pair of colossal bat wings, forged of pure lightning.

Unable to speak, Tempest could only watch in slack jawed horror, as the figure continued its screaming descent. Somewhere in Tempest's mind, she noted the creature had, oddly enough, not aimed to land in the city itself. Instead, angling itself to touch down far outside the wall. Only once the ebon shrouded entity grew closer, did Tempest understand why it would surrender so potent a tactical advantage. With its single gate shut and barred, all the creature had to do to trap the entire city of Thunderspire, was slaughter everything outside its walls. Opening her mouth to call out a far-too-late warning, the walls and towers of Thunderspire shook violently, as the living missile struck the earth like the fist of a titan. Directly in the center of a formation of two hundred frantically scattering storm beasts.

Sand, stone, and earth, blasted heavenward, as a wave of black fire like a miniature tsunami, exploded out from the impact point. The lightning chasing the figure grounding out in a massive eruption of pure plasma, as the combined shock wave washed over the storm beasts. Flesh and bone turned instantly to carbonized ashes, bodies were hurled for thousands of feet like pebbles in a hurricane, while others were simply turned to red mist in an instant. In a storm of focused mystical and kinetic devastation, stone was shattered into sand, sand melted into glass, and glass was rendered down to ionized vapor. As the few partially intact corpses of over two hundred storm beasts rained down across the sand and stone leading to Thunderspire, a figure emerged from the partially molten, hundred foot wide crater. It was at that moment, that the last of Tempest's recouped nerve, failed her.

Soundtrack: A Demon's Fate by Within Temptation

The being that emerged was now so shrouded in black fire, it was all but impossible to see the armored biped that made up its core. Great wings of black flame swept out from its shoulders, no longer a mere suggestion, but fully formed, and churning the surrounding dust and smoke with every ethereal beat. A pair of horns made of blazing obsidian energy, emerged from the creature's helmeted head, as limbs encased and enlarged by semi-solid black fire, extended out from its core. Two flaring orbs of pure crimson, stared out from amid the billowing flames, their gaze consumed with equal parts madness and rage.

It was at this moment, that Tempest had a horrifying moment of clarity. Back in Canterlot, when it had swept aside her armada like they were little more than specks of dust. . . this creature. . . had not shown its true strength! Cherishing the ponies and their home, it had sought to shield the city, and all those within, from the true extent of its terrible might! But now, bereft of any such concern, it was free to loose every iota of its brutal power! Instantly, all hope for survival died within Tempest. As in an instant of pure concentrated terror, she realized that all this time, the monster she faced in Canterlot. . . had been holding back. . . .

The creature's charge was precipitated by a roar of deific hate, so powerful it actually triggered minor avalanches down the side of the mountain surrounding Thunderspire. Bolts of lightning from the roiling clouds above, lashed across the battlefield, as if commanded by the beast's sheer fury. While deafening blasts of thunder, shattered windows, and cracked walls of stone and mortar. As the creature, hurtled forward.

Despite moving so fast its image was little more than a blur, the defenders still managed to get a single defensive volley off. Though their artillery had yet to be cranked back into position, thousands of projectiles filled the air. Arrows the size of small javelins were loosed from greatbows, while smaller iron tipped crossbow bolts, and even a few sling stones, hissed through the air as they flew out from the wall. In numbers great enough to momentarily darken the sky, the arrows and stones streaked down toward the rampaging horror of black flame. . . .

The creature barely noticed. Not even slowing the beast down, the myriad projectiles shattered like cheap crystal against an impenetrable aura of black fire. Arrows and bolts made to penetrate steel armor, and alchemically treated to ignore mystical wards, were little more than a gentle spring rain in the face of this monster's unleashed wrath. As, with a sweep of its flaming wings, the last of the arrows parted like so many sheets of water, before turning to ash and smoke, as the charging figure reached the first ranks of storm beasts.

Arranged in a phalanx with tower shields raised and bident spears set, the ranks of soldier-beasts looked impregnable. But against the coming horror, they were little more than a temporary inconvenience. Spears shattered into splinters, as shields were torn to iron filings, the flaming monster making quick, bloody work of the front ranks in an explosion of violence. One storm beast's shield was ripped from his grasp by an near invisible blur, his spear snapping as the shield's edge was brought down with monstrous force atop his head, splitting him in two. Another was simply sent hurtling back through the ranks behind him, his body a mangled ruin, as he paved a path of broken limbs and destroyed weapons through his fellows. Several others screamed in pain, as a whirlwind of black flame opened up their bellies in sprays of blood. Their organs spilling onto the ground in gory heaps. Ranks of storm beasts were tossed aside like clothing store mannequins in a tornado, from the force of the monster's charge alone. Tendrils of black fire lashing out like the limbs of some unholy cephalopod, to slash through shields and armor in sprays of molten metal, and flesh and fur in sprays of ashen flakes. As with roars of hate from the most vile pits of its soul, the creature unleashed its arsenal.

Twin explosive booms preceded the reduction of nearly eighty storm beasts, to little more than chunks of blood soaked meat and sundered armor. A pair of identical twin barreled weapons having appeared in each of the creature's hands. With black fire crawling across their surface, the weapons had blasted a vaguely wedge shaped hole through the masses of storm beast infantry. Those on the periphery of the wedge, barely had time to note their lost and shredded limbs, before their world was erased in clouds of ebon shrouded tungsten buckshot. In a demonstration of unheard of destructive power, the monster banished its twin barreled weapons in a flash of red, only to summon a pair of fresh ones, and fire them in yet another unstoppable wave of mangling, mystically enhanced metal. Before repeating the process with incomprehensible speed.

Whirling in place, the monster's hands strobed with bursts of scarlet light and thunderous muzzle flares. Blast after annihilating blast, tearing through the storm beasts surrounding him, and painting the earth a sickening scarlet. In the most brutal act of destruction that Tempest had ever seen, five hundred heavily armed soldiers were turned instantly to mist and mulch before her eyes. Only when the cry of 'catapults ready' was made out over the din of her own terror, did she awaken enough to give an order.

"FIRE!!" She screamed. "FIRE EVERYTHING!!"

The world was stained red. The eyes of the beast, flicking from target to target in twitching violent movements, could see no other color. Everything, from the sky and clouds above its head, to the sand and stone beneath its feet, was viewed in varying shades of scarlet, ruby, carmine, and crimson. The enemies standing by with raised shields and set spears, the oncoming stones and oversized bolts, the wall and city beyond the foes ranks, all of it was viewed through a lens the color of blood. The creature didn't care, driven forward by a rage that it had neither the desire, nor ability, to control. Roaring out in defiance, as it faced the oncoming barrage.

Disconnected images flashed through the monster's head. One moment it saw the smiling face of Twilight, as her flesh and fur burned away, to reveal a grinning skull beneath. In another, it was back on D'nur, entering the home it had had twelve hundred years ago, only to find animated and ravenous corpses, wearing the disintegrating faces of its lost family. However, the image that lingered longest, was of a kind and gentle, grey and blond mare, turned to crystal before its eyes, and then shattered into shards. As the flames on its body blazed out of control, the monster felt ever greater might surge through it, as it drowned in its hate. . . .

Meanwhile, deep within the mind of the beast, a second consciousness felt only grief. With cries of sorrow, his thoughts turned to how he had once again, failed to protect those he loved. Derpy had believed in him, put her faith in him, counted on him, and in the end, just as he had twelve hundred years before, he had proven too weak. It had been his responsibility to protect Twilight, and where had he been? Posturing and preening like a Light damned peacock! His entire being was consumed by pain and guilt, and he embraced it. Pain was what he deserved. Pain was what he was due. Pain. . . was all he had the right to receive.

For the millionth time, the mind within the beast recalled the image frozen on the crystallized face of Derpy Hooves. It was kind, resigned, sympathetic. Even in death, she had tried to make him believe her end wasn't his fault, that she alone was responsible for the loss of her life. It was so like her, kind until the end. Hers had been a heart that made even angels seem cold and unfeeling. Derpy's had been a soul of pure love. . . and he had let her die. Though Derpy doubtless had wanted to spare him guilt, there was no question who's fault this was. He did not deserve her kindness. He had failed the Light, he had failed the seraphim, he had failed his friends, and he had failed his family. Most of all however, he had failed Derpy Hooves. As he heard the distant roars of the beast through a haze of grief, the mind within felt tears stain his cheeks anew. It couldn't be helped, he needed to protect what remained, and only one being, had never failed in that task. Let the monster rage, if it brought his home and family safety. . . then he did not care what the cost was.

Tempest Shadow, had never been religious. She did not believe in the idea of gods, or a benevolent creator, nor did she subscribe to the idea of an afterlife. You lived, you died, you rotted in the ground. There was no mystery, and no reason to care or think about it. However, as the battle continued to play out before her, Tempest suddenly found herself praying.

As the flames on the creature's right arm flared, and it swiped it through the air so fast it almost appeared to teleport. As the ballista bolts hurtling through the sky were scattered like matchsticks by a booming shockwave, that cracked the stone beneath the monster's feet. As hunks of rock over two feet across, shattered into slivers against its aura of indestructible flame. As an almighty titan stampeded towards phalanxes of the best soldiers the Storm King's empire could produce, like they were little more than prey to be devoured. Tempest couldn't help but believe. . . god was real. . . and he hated her. . . .

Tempest watched with a sort of numb detachment, as the battle continued. As she stood and stared, a trebuchet behind the wall managed a direct hit. . . or so it seemed. The projectile, a boulder nearly as tall as its target, and at least twice as wide, impacted the monster with a force that should have crushed it into paste. Instead, the massive hunk of rock came to a sudden, juddering stop, its momentum bled away in an instant. Despite everything, Tempest felt her eyes widen in shock, as the creature hefted the boulder overhead. Its fingers punching into the stone like steel pitons into moldy bread. As the flames from the creature's body engulfed the hunk of rock in a wave of flaring ebony, some of the storm beasts nearby, broken and brainwashed though they were, turned and ran. Further away, a phalanx of two hundred fresh soldiers, charging into position as the barrage from the wall ended, were stopped dead by terror induced awe. Trembling from horn to paw, they watched, as, with a soul searing roar of psychotic malice, the monster heaved the stone at them. The flaming hunk of rock streaking across the one hundred fifty meters of distance, in the space of three seconds.

Had the ordered ranks of storm beasts had the wherewithal to scatter before the stone was cast, they might have stood some small chance. As it was however, frozen in formation by combination of fear and mental conditioning, and rendered unable to react, they hadn't a hope in Tartarus. The flaring rock detonated with the force of a keg of black powder, the center of the storm beast formation instantly torn to ribbons by shards of stone moving several times the speed of sound.

Those warriors closest to the impact seemed almost to evaporate, as the rows of soldiers surrounding them were turned into mosaics of blood soaked fur and lacerated flesh. Agonized howls and screams echoed across the battlefield, as those merely wounded by the attack fell to the ground. Slivers of stone, some as long as a claw-length, embedded in their twitching bodies. However, all this was merely a distraction from the creature's true assault. As a weapon like an oversized tuning fork, was summoned to its waiting claws. . . .

Tempest was forced to dive for cover, as a beam of black light, surrounding an electric blue core, lanced into a nearby defense tower. In an explosion loud enough to drown out the roar of thunder overhead, the tower was blown into the sky. Mortar and stone turned to molten spray instantly from the heat of the beam. While the force of the impact sent square blocks of stone the size of a storm beasts head, hurtling in every direction. Each moving fast enough to punch through even fortified structures like they were made of paper. A moment later, another tower suffered a similar fate. The ballista and catapult crews at its summit were erased from reality, as the top twenty feet of the structure were either flashed into pyroclastic vapor, or sent screaming in every direction as oversized shrapnel. As tower after fortified tower was turned into a semi-molten ruin, blocks of stone, sent soaring thousands of feet into the air, began raining down on the wall and its surroundings. Tempest just barely managed to dodge a rock that shattered the stone beneath her hooves like glass, as next to her, several storm beasts holding crossbows, had their skulls caved in by the falling debris. One such unfortunate, close enough that Tempest was splattered by a mix of pulverized bone, brains, and blood.

Leaning over the side of the wall, Tempest vomited up the contents of her stomach. As more blocks of stone rained down around her, she stared bleary eyed, just in time to see three more phalanxes of storm beasts converge on the monster from the sides and front. Again feeling a sense of numb detachment overtake her, Tempest watched the slaughter unfold. Switching weapons again, the ebon shrouded horror sent a swarm of what looked like miniature stars wrapped in black fire, into the front ranks of its attackers. Any storm beasts hit by the flickering projectiles, were instantly reduced, weapons and all, to clouds of ash. Scores of them incinerated so quickly, it almost made it seem like the charging warriors weren't real. As if the soldiers were merely an illusionist's conjured phantasms being dispelled. By the time they closed the distance, the hoard of six hundred, had become less than four hundred.

If anything, the close quarters battle was worse than the war at a distance. The creature had abandoned all semblance of technique. Swinging its arms in broad arcs, as if its limbs were little more than clubs attached to its body. The effect was devastating, as the obsidian clad limbs, sheared through flesh and bone as surely as any blade. The shock wave of the blows was no less destructive, as storm beasts mangled bodies were sent flying away like missiles by near or glancing hits. Sometimes the monster would bring its fist down in a hammerblow, cratering the earth beneath it, as a blast of its flaring aura, either tore its attackers into bloody fragments, or burned them into cinders. Running forward in a staggering drunken line, the creature seemed to grow more brutal whenever the ranks of its foes thinned even a little. The extra space giving it room to exercise all manner of personalized cruelties.

Reaching out with a strike like a black lightning bolt, the unstoppable biped punched its fingers into the sternum of a charging storm beast, before ripping the front of its rib cage free in a spray of blood. As the pitiful warrior reflexively tried to hold in its lungs and heart, the monster whirled on its next target. With a low sweep of the annihilating monster's arm, it knocked a storm beast's legs out from under it, snapping them like twigs as it was spun perpendicular to the ground. Before cleaving it in two with a downward chop so swift it broke the sound barrier, the two halves of the storm beast exploding into mist from the sonic boom.

Another storm beast was simply grabbed by the face, the monster's blunt claws punching into its eye sockets and nasal cavity as if its skull was a bowling ball. The two hundred fifty pound gurgling soldier was lifted off the ground as if it weighed no more than a feather. Its neck snapping like a twig, as it was hurled into a second storm beast warrior with force enough to turn every bone in both their bodies, into a mass of splinters no bigger than a toothpick. Prowling forward, the blazing monstrosity howled amid piles of the dead and dying, gore on its flaming body turning instantly to smoke, as it sought fresh prey.

Before Tempest's numbed gaze, one storm beast had its intestines ripped out and wrapped around the throat of another. The obsidian shrouded creature using the bloody, ropey mass, as both garrote and leash, dragging around the suffocating warrior, as it fended off the attacks of its comrades with blasts from one of its many weapons. The victim of the initial disembowelment screaming in horror as it bled out. The storm beast tangled in its guts went quietly limp, its face a swollen purple.

As the monster finished off the few enemies within easy reach, Tempest watched the remaining storm beast formations converge around the flaming biped. At this point, the only strategy left, seemed to be trying to overwhelm the creature with sheer numbers. It was a laughable idea, reflecting just how desperate the situation had become.

It was at this moment, that Tempest began to cry. Her long caged emotions suddenly returning with brutal abruptness. Strangely, with the specter of imminent death before her, she came to realize a long buried truth. One she had hidden so deep, she had all but forgotten it. Terror and despair, inexplicable as it was, parted her resentment, self delusion, and learned callousness like a blade. Letting her recall with heart wrenching suddenness, all she had buried. She didn't want, and had never wanted, any of this. All Tempest had wanted, truly wanted, was to go back home. To have the happy life she had enjoyed before her horn was destroyed, and her supposed friends had abandoned her out of fear.

The pony Tempest Shadow had originally been, had never wanted to be a conqueror, never wanted to be a villain. . . she had just wanted her life back. But over time, desperation and resentment, had transformed her into a pony, her younger self would never have recognized. As tears streamed from her eyes, Tempest felt years of suppressed regret come to the surface. All the times she had hurt somecreature and pretended not to care, all the times she betrayed and acted like it was just business, all the times she had been cruel and claimed it was simply for survival. At that moment, Tempest realized that this was the result of a life spent blinded by anger and grief. She had turned herself into a monster to bury her pain, unwilling to face or fight against it. Now. . . after all this time. . . she had finally met a monster more horrific than she could ever be. And, illogical as it seemed, its terrible presence, had brought her revelation. . . .

Wiping her eyes clear, Tempest felt a strange calm settle over her. She didn't want to die, but as she accepted responsibility for her actions at long last, and recalled who she truly was, her fear inexplicably vanished. Turning from the wall, Tempest felt a profound sense of inner peace. She was going to die, and she had no one to blame but herself, she understood and accepted that. She wasn't going to run anymore, and with what little remained of her time, she vowed she would live as the pony that, in truth, she had always wanted to be. She had lived for a long time as 'Tempest Shadow', the Storm King's most feared and ruthless enforcer. But, if she was going to die, she chose to do so as Fizzlepop Berrytwist, lost daughter of Equestria. And, if at all possible, she would make sure hers, was the last death in this war. . . .

The monster roared as it jumped fifty feet into the air, scattering the clawing hoard around it with the sheer explosive force of its leap. Summoning a rocket launcher to each hand, it devastated the ground below in a flurry of barely aimed shots. Turning the earth into a semi-molten ruin, and letting the combined shock waves from the blasts carry it still higher. The beast smashing into the ground nearly one hundred feet from where it started, as a wave of black fire, vaporized another thirty of its foes as it landed. Running forward with a bellowing howl, the beast rammed its fist into the gut of a staggered enemy soldier. Fingers like living knives, tore through flesh and fur as if it were warm wet paper. The lupine wretch of a foe bleating out in pain, as its eyes filled with terror. The monster reveled in that fear, as its questing hand tore through the creature's diaphragm, its fingers closing around its prize.

Ripping free the squealing weakling's heart in a soothing spray of ruby liquid, the monster smiled. As it shattered the skull of a pitiful foe charging its rear with a casual backhand strike, the monster stared at the still pulsing organ in its hand. The monster could feel it! Derpy was smiling! She was resting easier, knowing the creature was ensuring her death was not in vain!

The creature would not allow further mistakes, it would make certain that Equestria was secure, the enemies of the seraphim would be laid to waste. Raising up the now stilled heart, the monster stood as if offering it to the heavens. It wanted Derpy to see, to see that she and her death would never be forgotten! For just an instant, the creature's vision cleared, the red haze fading slightly, as tears stung its eyes. Then it heard more enemies approaching. . . and the haze returned, stronger than ever.

It was still not enough! Until all under the Storm King's banner were slaughtered, until their bodies were piled high upon the ruins of their heretical kingdom, until all that they cherished was ash and dust. . . . Until then! The creature would not, must not, stop! Until all of the Storm King's empire, drowned in the spilled blood of its vile citizenry, the creature could never know rest!

Crushing the disembodied heart into pulp and throwing it away, the creature ripped the spear from a charging enemy's grasp with its other hand. Reversing the bident, the monster rammed the head through the belly of its foe, impaling it, before twisting and pulling. The tines of the weapon snagged in the flesh of his screaming enemy, as the monster reveled in the dying storm beast's desperate and pleading expression. Then, the monster's face, once more became a mask of insensate rage, as it used its impaled attacker as a massive screaming mace. Whirling the impaled creature over its head with the force of a cannonball, the flaming biped sent dozens of storm beasts flying, their limbs bent and broken, and their organs a lumpen slurry. Casting aside the improvised club, the monster clutched at its head, as images appeared, in a wave of pain. . . .

Lady Derpy and Miss Dinky were sitting with Lady Twilight, Lady Starlight and Master Spike, at a table in Ponyville. It was a beautiful day, with a shining sun, and nary a cloud in the sky. The creature grit its teeth, as, with a stab of agony, the image sharpened. For some reason, they had been discussing the creatures of the Everfree forest. Twilight had been commenting on some of the more dangerous flora and fauna, and Dinky and Spike, though they tried not to show it, had become a little scared. The creature heard as Dinky had expressed her fear, wondering if any of the monsters would attack Ponyville. . . . Derpy placed her hoof around her daughter in a gentle hug, as she looked right into the creature's eyes without a shred of doubt.

"Don't worry sweety, don't forget Derran is here, he'll keep us safe from any monsters." The creature's mind was lanced with pain, as it saw Dinky stare at him.

"Really?"

"Of course, I would never allow anything to happen to you." The creature stood, clawing at its helmeted head and mouthing the words as the image played out.

"You promise?" She had asked, with an innocent smile. The creature felt as if it was being swallowed by an abyss, as it unconsciously mouthed the words of the response.

"I swear it." The creature's body shook, as the blood in its veins burned like molten rock, its eyes blazing like pools of hellfire, and its breath steaming as its saliva boiled. Then, with a roar that shattered the very earth beneath its feet, the creature hurled itself at its foes, in an almost eighty foot standing leap. Coherent thought became an impossibility, as the monster descended into a frenzy of battle madness. With every strike, an enemy was turned to a bloody spray, weapons were summoned and fired at random, with no thought given to their use save that they kill something. Foes were torn apart like sacks of paper filled with bloody meat. Blasted into mist by rockets and haphazardly thrown grenades. Evaporated by sprays of plasma fire and railgun shots. Or shredded into blood soaked heaps of ground meat, by streams of hot lead. Yet still, it wasn't nearly enough to quell the creature's white hot fury.

The city wall loomed before the maddened beast's gaze, just over a hundred meters away. Before it, were the last of the defenders, the elite guard of Thunderspire. Clad in heavy plate armor, and wielding two handed axes and greatswords, they were a three hundred strong wall of metal and muscle. All the creature saw, was vague figures in a carmine fog, as it summoned its final weapon. The wall of soldiers braced at the foot of the fortification, just behind the spiked moat, preparing for the monster's next move. The more fortunate of them, had a split second to marvel, at the birth of a second sun of black and green. Just before emerald tendrils of fusing plasma, cocooned in an aura of black fire, reduced them to subatomic particles.

The detonation of the mystically enhanced ball of super-condensed plasma, shook Thunderspire, and the mountain behind it, nearly to pieces. The ground cracked open to partially swallow entire city blocks, buildings collapsed into rubble by the hundreds, wood turned to ash instantly, stone and metal melted, and a massive avalanche from the mountain above, buried nearly a third of the city under crushed stone and soil. When the dust and smoke finally cleared, a glowing crater of molten rock, nearly two hundred and fifty feet wide and forty feet deep, stood amid the broken and melted remains of the supposedly invincible, Thunderspire wall. Moving forward into a fog of smoke, powdered stone, and sedately floating ashen particles, the monster reached its target. Its body twitching unnaturally, as it walked forward at a slow and steady pace. . . .

It found the residents of the city at its center, where the damage from its assault had been minimal. There were at least a few thousand of them. They were wretched figures, many clad only in chains and filthy rags, all clearly malnourished, and wearing expressions of terror, as they clutched at one another. Most bore a strong resemblance to the storm beast soldiers, save these creatures were more lithe, and had more of a simian appearance, rather than the lupine one of their warrior counterparts. The vast majority were very old, or very young, with only a smattering of adult looking specimens, split evenly between male and female. The creatures shrank away from the monster with tear filled eyes, as he leveled his weapon at them. Young or old. . . sick or strong. . . male or female. It was irrelevant. . . all sinners must die,. . . .

"WAIT!!" The figure who stepped from amid the wretched mass, almost made the creature pull the trigger there and then. However, for some reason even the monster itself couldn't fathom, it paused, as Tempest Shadow presented herself. "Please!" She begged. "Just listen!" The creature held still, but did not lower its weapon. After a pause of a few moments, during which the monster stayed seemingly frozen, Tempest continued. "I know. . . I know I hurt you. . . hurt Equestria!" The creature continued to stand there, unmoving. Tempest let out a deep breath as she continued. "I. . . I don't have a good excuse. I've hurt a lot of innocent creatures, and done a lot of things I'm not proud of." Tempest declared, the flaming figure, amazingly, still letting her speak.

"But these creatures shouldn't have to pay the price for what the Storm King and I did!" The crimson glare from beneath the monster's helmet was completely unshifting, yet still, it did not pull the trigger. "These creatures never wanted to hurt Equestria! The Storm King tricked them! Lied to them! Promised them he would make their kingdom great! Then, once he had power, he took every able bodied citizen and experimented on them! He used alchemy and brutal conditioning to turn them into mindless monsters to enforce his every whim! Then he enslaved everycreature who was too young or old to be turned into a soldier, or who were needed to maintain a breeding population!" Tempest's expression and tone were pleading, but passionate. "They never wanted to hurt anycreature! So PLEASE! If you have to kill me to make this right, then fine, I've earned my fate! But I'm begging you, to let these creatures go!" For some time, there was silence, and for a moment, Tempest dared to hope. Then, in a growling voice, that seemed to scratch at the souls and sanity of all who heard it, the creature spoke. . . .

"No. . . ." Tempest's eyes widened in horror, as she frantically tried again.

"Please! These creatures have done nothing wrong! They-" Tempest was silenced by a roar like unholy thunder, a flash of lightning from the roiling sky above, only emphasizing the thought, as the monster spoke.

"LET STORM KING HAVE POWER. . ." Tempest shook her head frantically.

"Please! I told you he tricked-"

"DIDN'T FIGHT!!" Tempest felt tears of frustration burn her cheeks as she kept trying.

"By the time they saw his true plan it was-" The creature kept talking, as unstoppable as an avalanche.

"ALL GUILTY. . . ALL SINNERS. . . ALL DIE!!" Tempest sobbed as she screamed in desperation.

"JUST TAKE ME YOU BUCKING BASTARD!! JUST LET THEM. . . ." Tempest froze, as she met the creature's gaze, her voice dying in her throat, as she realized it was useless. This creature's eyes. . . there was no pity. . . no understanding. . . no concept of forgiveness. . . only rage, vengeance, and madness. Tempest suddenly realized she had been wrong. . . this was no god. . . it truly was, a monster. "Please no." She whispered, as the creature's finger tightened on the trigger of its weapon.

"Make. . . you. . . repent." The words, though still filled with rage, sounded almost calm, yet were as cold as the darkest depths of the ocean, as the creature's weapon started to hum. Tempest stared down the device's barrel, a faint green glow just barely visible at the end. She closed her eyes, waiting for the embrace of death. Then. . . a flash of blinding white light. . . obscured the world.

"STOP!!" The voice, feminine, but thunderous and commanding, seemed almost to freeze time itself, halting the monster in its tracks, as surely as if it had been encased in ice. As the last three figures Tempest ever expected, appeared between her and her executioner. Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Twilight Sparkle, stood before the monster with manes and tails flaring, their expressions set in looks of heavily restrained anger and sorrow, as they glared at the beast before them. "Stand down Doom Slayer!" Celestia bellowed. "That. . . is an order!!"