Legion

Chapters

The Two Kings
Rise. . .
The Calm Before
Prepare for the Worst
Plowshares to Swords
I Am VEGA
What a King Fears
These Stones so Holy
A Day in the Life
Times of Peace
Queen of Nothing
Homecoming
Sins of the Future
A World Without War
False Idols

The Two Kings

Author's Note

Happy Hearthswarming everyone! Thule117 here with warmest holiday wishes, and the latest chapter of the ongoing saga of the Doom Slayer. As well as my fortunate/unfortunate return (depending on your perspective) to writing ten thousand or more word chapters.

First though, I propose we pause and reflect on the last year. I know there's a lot of bad out there, but I say, at least for today, we focus on the positives in each of our lives. I'll be honest, for me that mostly that boils down to the new MLP movie coming out and whetting our appetites for the first season of the new show in 2022, Elden Ring and Total War Warhammer 3 looking awesome, and the announcement of Warhammer 40,000 Space Marine 2 being made. Oh, and I'm walking four miles a day now so I lost a bunch of weight, that's nice too.

Things like that might seem pretty small, but trust me, sometimes in this world, the little joys are the most important to remember. Ah, and of course I can't forget writing for all of you, that has always been a source of happiness for me. Seeing people like, bookmark, and comment on my stories, always lifts my spirits. With that in mind I would also like to offer thanks to my editor Bronyshot2020 for his help with editing this and all my other chapters down the line.

Oh! And that reminds me! I've been working on a small story, completely separate from Legion and Guardian, that I might be sharing with you soon. I still haven't decided if I'm going to release it, as I mostly want to focus on Legion. I'll probably just post the first chapter or two, and see if people want more or not. Anyway, that's all I have for now. Once again I wish you all Happy Holidays, and a glorious New Year. Remember to like and comment, as that honestly really helps with my motivation. Now, on with the chapter. . .

The Two Kings

"A single moment of fear, can inspire a lifetime of darkness. . ."

-Excerpt from the Book of Angels

Derran stared out across the battlefield, an expression of horror upon his face. The enemy was everywhere. Shadowy and indistinct, their form could not be made out, even amid the burning corpses and wreckage of the battleground. No sooner did Derran look at them, than they would seem to dissolve into vague smudges, or flit away into the darkness. Screams and shouts echoed through a sky that was obscured by endless black cloud cover, lit from below by the fires of war, to glow a dirty reddish orange. The mortal cries on the wind only silent when they were blotted out by the sounds of explosions or gunfire. The air thick with the smell of ash and spilled viscera.

The ground beneath Derran's feet was a muddy quagmire. Blood, rain, and the stomping of thousands of booted feet, having turned the earth into a viscous sludge. Despite his superhuman strength, Derran struggled to move. The muck gripping his armored boots like a vice. Forcing himself forward, Derran tried to figure out where he was. He seemed to be on the defensive side of some crude dirt and stone fortification, that was currently blocking any view of what lay beyond it. What was on his side was impossible to recognize. As the enemy, who seemed not to have noticed him yet, had reduced almost everything to a blazing ruin.

Deciding he needed a better vantage, Derran began climbing the earthen redoubt. It was slow going, especially as it seemed his jump boots were inoperable. The muddy earth slipped between his fingers, denying him all but the most tenuous purchase. Overhead, he noticed the intensity with which the cloud cover reflected the ruddy light from below. Suggesting a sizable blaze was beyond. Perhaps the fortification network was only a small part of a larger fortress that had been put to the torch?

As Derran climbed, he struggled to recall how he had gotten here, and who or what exactly he was fighting. This wasn't Hell, the strange shadowy humanoid figures were almost certainly no demon he had ever faced. Not to mention there was no night in that accursed dimension. Was this Mars perhaps? He had only seen one part of the planet after all, and though he was given to understand the entire world was inimical to life, perhaps he had been mistaken. Finally, Derran reached the top of the earthen wall. However. . . when he straightened up, and stared down at the flaming structures below, Derran realized he had been wrong. This was indeed Hell. For Ponyville. . . was burning.

A horrified numbness took over Derran's body and mind, as he stared down at his penultimate fear made manifest. It was all in flames. Every home, every store, every woodshed and shack. Sugarcube Corner was a blazing ruin, as was the town hall. Carousel Boutique was a mocking horror show of its namesake, flaring away merrily, while its carbonized support beam skeleton, shone through the flames. The cobblestone streets were all but erased under the craters of artillery shells, the stone and stucco walls of the houses pockmarked by machine gun fire. Abandoned sandbag emplacements guarded overrun choke points, as running battles still raged through the streets.

The shadowy creatures from before, exchanged fire with human figures in, once shining, magetech armor. The suits tarnished by soot and blood, and rent by gunfire and plasma. In some places the armored figures drew swords of blazing light, charging at the enemy with fury and holy zeal. However, none of that even registered with Derran, as he saw the corpses at their feet.

Some were torn apart by explosives, or so riddled with bullets they could barely be recognized. Some were burned by napalm or plasma, others stabbed to death or hacked apart by blades. Yet there was not a one Derran did not recognize. Minuett, Octavia, Aloe, Lotus, Daisy, Sawdust, Chipotle Pepper, Lilly Brownstone. . . with every face and name that flitted silently through his head, Derran felt his guts twist. His mind reeling, as it struggled to stay in one piece. The spell was only broken, when Derran's gaze found its way to Twilight's castle.

At first, the numbness held strong, as Derran took in the castle itself. Shattered like a glass ornament, a full two thirds of it were completely gone. With what remained only barely staying attached to the trunk of its cracked and scorched tree-like structure. Derran stared at the ruin that was Twilight's and his home with a sense of detached disbelief. That crumbled. . . as he saw the group of bodies hanging together in front of the entrance. Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Starlight Glimmer, Spike, all four of the Crusaders, Derpy Hooves, and. . . Twilight. As his eyes fell upon them, Derran fell to his knees, clawing at his face, as he howled and screamed like a wounded animal.

They hadn't just been killed, they had been executed! Each slain by a single gunshot to the back of the head. Yet, as if that weren't monstrous enough, their bodies had been hung from the remains of the castle by nooses made of blood soaked razor wire. But the horror, didn't stop there. Even from this distance, Derran could see signs of mutilation and torture. Bloody wounds on their backs and flanks where they had been whipped. Bruised and broken limbs telling of brutal beatings. Horns and wings cut off for trophies. . . Seeing such defilement was beyond anything a sane mind could endure.

Derran shrieked and cried as he punched at the earth hard enough to crater it, his grief and rage beyond the power of any language to describe. His sense of self dissolved amid an torrent of mind shattering emotional agony. He screamed, roared and wept. Then he wept, roared, and screamed. The cycle of torment and fury endlessly shuffling and repeating. Only when he felt a hand on his shoulder, did Derran find the power to act.

In a blur of movement, Derran surged to his feet, turning as he did so. Half blinded by tears, he fastened his hands around the throat of the one who had disturbed him. With a strength pushed to truly god-like proportions by rage and sorrow, he lifted the powerfully built armored figure, into the air, as if he weighed no more than a straw doll. Only the barely recalled voice of one of his brothers, prevented Derran from ripping the figure's head from his shoulders.

"My Lord! Please!" The man wheezed out, his throat nearly collapsing under the pressure of Derran's grip. Dropping him, Derran stared down at the man with an expression gone mad with hatred and grief. Coughing as air reentered his lungs, Derran's brother stared up at him in fear. Derran couldn't quite tell who this brother was. His face oddly hard to place, despite the familiarity of his voice. Recovering swiftly, the man spoke, rubbing his throat as he did so. "My Lord Doom Slayer, I was sent to fetch you by Lord Santius. We are falling back my Lord, this sector is lost, and. . ." Here the messenger paused, seeming to fight back tears of his own.

"And what?!" Derran's voice was so twisted by his hate and heartbreak, it no longer even sounded human. The messenger flinched, tears leaking from his eyes, as he spoke in a tone filled with shame and suppressed pain.

"And we just received word. . . Ladies Celestia. . . Luna. . . Cadence. . . and Flurry Heart. . . they're all dead!" At that, the messenger broke down, sobbing. For a time, Derran stood frozen, until the messenger's demeanor changed. . . Shadows lengthened around him, hiding his face in darkness. As the sound of his tears ceased. "Why didn't you save them?!" The messenger snarled, his voice suddenly twisted and hateful.

Inexplicably, Derran's rage vanished, to be replaced by a slowly mounting horror. "You could have saved them!!" The messenger hissed, his voice growing in volume as he got to his feet. Glaring down at Derran, the strange brother's size increased, his armor bursting apart, as he grew into a distorted parody of a man. Towering over Derran like a misshapen mountain of muscle, and fixing him in place with burning red eyes, that wept tears of blood. "You could have saved them! But you held back! They died because you refused to do what was needed! This is because of you. . . IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!!" The messenger roared, his voice shaking the earth and sky with its thunderous volume. Derran wanted to deny it, but an icy hand of cruel realization closed about his throat. As he somehow knew his brother's words to be true, though he could not recall what he had done to make them so.

"THEY TRUSTED YOU! TO KEEP THEM SAFE! TO PROTECT THEM!! AND YOU! LET! THEM!! DIE!!!" The messenger, now over twenty feet tall, grabbed Derran by his neck. Hoisting him into the air effortlessly, with a hand big enough to crush boulders. His face still concealed by strange impenetrable shadow, the messenger locked his wrathful gaze with Derran's. "WEAKLING! LIAR!! COWARD!!!" Suddenly, the mysterious brother's voice became a cruel whisper. "Murderer. . ." Silent tears streamed from Derran's eyes, as his mind went blank. All around him, the fires of destruction consumed Equestria. As his titanic brother, letting out a bestial roar, hurled Derran into the flames. . .

Derran sat bolt upright in bed, using every ounce of his immeasurable willpower, to force down the scream pounding at the back of his throat. He was lathered in sweat, and breathing heavily. His eyes wide and his pupils dilated, as he stared frantically around the interior of Twilight's bedchamber. With a jerk of his head, Derran looked down at the space next to him, and immediately felt a sense of relief wash over him. . . There was Twilight, her eyes closed, and her breathing steady, as she continued to sleep.

Shaking his head, Derran struggled to get his emotions and body back under control. Taking a deep breath, he forced his hands to stop trembling. It was times like this, he was both regretful, and grateful, that lady Luna was unable to enter his dreams. While he would have been cheered beyond words for an early reprieve from his nightmares, he was even happier to know his beloved would never have to witness their horror.

This nightmare though. . . it had felt so monstrously real. The charnel stink. The smoke and ash. The horror and fighting. And his beloved family, strung up like carcasses in a butcher's shop. . . That unspeakable image was seared into his brain as surely as if it had been branded there. Leaning back, Derran placed a still slightly shaking arm, protectively around Twilight. He felt her instinctively snuggle close and wrap her hooves around him. Murmuring happily in her sleep.

Derran and Twilight had yet to be. . . intimate with one another. However they nonetheless slept in the same bed, at Twilight's request, and had done so for a few months now. Derran had seldom been as glad of that, as he was in this moment. As, had Twilight not been at his side when he had awoken, he likely would have torn both their doors off their hinges in blind desperation to get to her. Letting out another attempt at a calming breath, Derran looked down at his sleeping love.

He had never noticed just how. . . small, Twilight looked compared to him. Only standing about four and a half feet tall, not counting her horn, and about five feet end to end, including her tail, head, and neck. She was easily dwarfed by his six foot, well muscled and broad shouldered frame. Even now, her head only took up about two thirds of the space on his chest, again not counting her horn. She looked so delicate, fragile, helpless. . . Her toned body showed only the barest amount of fat, but also little in the way of true muscle. Granted, as a seraphim, she was far stronger than she looked. Her physical power easily on par with the mightiest earth pony athletes, and as her divine power developed, she would eventually outstrip even Derran in terms of sheer physical might. Nevertheless, at that moment, asleep and unaware, Twilight looked unbearably vulnerable.

Glancing at the clock, Derran saw it was nearly three in the morning. Laying back once more and staring at the ceiling, Derran recalled all the fears he had thought put to rest the previous day. Was he being naïve? Not perhaps about the character of the ponies, but what of other things? That dream. . . it had been so vivid, so crystal clear. Derran had felt the heat of the flames. Smelled the blood and smoke. He had heard the wails of the dead and dying. And his mysterious brother's words. . .

"Was it a dream? Or perhaps. . . a vision?" He whispered, so softly he himself barely heard it. He idly ran his fingers through Twilight's mane. Strands of hair like silk, running through his fingers like water.

Who had that strange shadowy enemy been? They didn't look like demons, and used weapons not at all dissimilar to Derran and his brothers armaments. Come to that, the mere fact that his brothers had been there at all, felt strange. Derran's, thankfully infrequent, nightmares, tended to be more solitary. His brothers had almost never featured in them, save on the rare occasions he dreamt of those he had slain or witnessed the deaths of, back before they came to the holy land. But seldom before had they appeared in full battle armor, and never had they appeared in Equestria.

+Something rotten is on the wind. . .+ Spoke a dark voice from Derran's subconscious. Unwelcome as it usually was, Derran felt oddly relieved to hear his mental prisoner speak.

"And what brings you to the waking world, Doom Slayer?" Derran mentally heard the second mind within him scoff.

+You even need to ask? Same as you asshole.+ Derran was surprised to feel the Doom Slayer release the mental equivalent of a deep breath. +That dream was. . . well, 'fucked up' is a good place to start. Guess it was bad enough that your bitch ass unconsciously let me off the leash a bit and called me up here. Thanks for that by the way.+ He snarled sarcastically. Derran, ignoring the Slayer's insults, stared at the ceiling of Twilight's room.

"You think something is coming?" Derran asked, a frown appearing on his face. He felt the Doom Slayer shaking his head.

+Fuck knows. Maybe? Real question is: what are we gonna do about it if it does?+ Derran looked down once more at Twilight, her face scrunched up strangely, as she fidgeted in his arms. Whatever dream she was having clearly distressing her. Suddenly, he felt a dark fury come over him, at the mere thought of anycreature trying to harm any of his beloveds, or the rest of his friends and family.

"We hope for peace. We hope, that we are wrong." Derran felt the Doom Slayer frown.

+And if we're right?+ In his heart, Derran's dark fury, became a barely controlled hateful inferno, his rage blazing white hot in his breast. As he leaned down to whisper in Twilight's ear.

"If foes come seeking to harm my family. . . Then we will kill them. . . We will kill them all." At that, Twilight stopped fidgeting. Yet. . . even as she clutched Derran tighter, her features were etched with a look of worry. . .

Once again, Twilight traveled down the featureless, shadowy corridor of her reoccurring dream. Once again, she came to the end, to behold the two aspects of the man she loved, locked in mortal combat. And once again, the same five objects appeared before her. The roses, the daggers, and the scale, all hovering in the air as if waiting for her arrival. And yet, for all that it was the same, this time something was different. . .

There was a faint smell in the air. An odor of sulfur, so diffused that it could barely be detected, yet unmistakably there. Twilight's ears pricked, as a sound that was less even than a whisper, echoed through the air. A sound like. . . metal clashing against metal, and a faint boom, not unlike thunder. Straining to listen, Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin, as she heard the duel voices of Derran and the Doom Slayer cry out in unison.

"A WEAPON TWILIGHT!! BRING ME A WEAPON!!" So startled was she by their voices, that Twilight had grabbed the daggers in her levitation field, and was half way to the nearly identical frozen figures, before she forced herself to stop. Something about the two armored figures had changed. Most ponies might not have noticed in time, but years of being a mage and scholar had honed Twilight's observational skills to a razors edge.

The position of the figures had not changed, nor had their expressions. One still gripped by howling rage, and the other still bound by an equally intense, grimacing, disdainful, hate. Both still wrestled with fingers locked, and palms pressed together, as if each was trying to push the other off an invisible cliff. And at first glance, the pool of ebony liquid they stood in seemed as static as ever. Or so it would appear to most. . .

But Twilight saw. Saw the tiny, almost invisible, black filaments creeping up from the pool. Thinner than a spider's thread, the tendrils of black had affixed themselves onto the boots of both combatants. Reaching no higher than either being's ankle, the filaments looked delicate enough that a strong breeze could sever them. Yet somehow, Twilight knew they were far stronger than they appeared.

"THE DAGGERS TWILIGHT!! PLEASE GIVE ME THE DAGGERS!!" Twilight nearly screamed, as the shouted plea thundered in her head, like a gong had been struck directly inside her brain. Her heart was filled with terror at the thought that Derran was in trouble. Yet, after only a few more steps, Twilight forced herself to stop once more.

"No!" She gasped out, her will stretched to the breaking point, as she resisted the urge to comply with her love's frantic request. "Something. . . something's wrong!" Instantly, the twin voices cried out again, desperation in every syllable.

"PLEASE TWILIGHT I CAN'T LOSE-." The two voices halted, transitioning into a pair of agonized screams. As in an instant, the black filaments around their feet pulsed and grew. Becoming as thick as jungle vines, the tendrils surged upward in an explosion of growth. An evil looking red energy crackled across coils like living tar, as they cocooned Derran and the Slayer in an instant. Twilight felt her heart and mind become consumed by horror, as she rushed forward, bolts of purple light flying from her horn, as she tried to blast the vile substance off her beloved's two bodies.

It was pointless, the magic simply caroming off the writhing mass Derran and the Slayer had become. Suddenly, a wail of despair, in a familiar voice, was heard.

"Twilight! What have you done?!" Celestia screamed out. Turning, Twilight saw her and Luna standing there, looks of abject horror frozen on their faces. Instantly, Twilight felt her very soul seize up.

"I. . .I didn't. . . something was wrong!" She cried out. "The Daggers! I didn't. . ." Twilight trailed off, uncertain what to say or think.

"We trusted you Twilight!" Luna called out, her voice choked with tears. "We thought you loved us! Loved him!" Twilight shook her head in desperate denial, even as words deserted her.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!!" Celestia wept. "You've killed him Twilight!!"

"NO!" Twilight cried out. "No I'd never! I-I wouldn't. . . I love him!" Celestia glared at Twilight, her eyes filled with hatred, and her voice overflowing with venom.

"Loved him?! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO HIM YOU FOAL!!" Celestia roared. Twilight turned to see that the pulsing mass, had become some twisted beast of shadow. A swirling abomination that was covered in mouths full of glittering white teeth, and randomly placed burning red eyes. Twilight's mind felt on the verge of collapse, until suddenly.

"If foes come seeking to harm my family. . . Then we will kill them. We will kill them all."

At that utterance, Celestia, Luna, and the monster Derran and the Slayer had become, dissolved into black mist. Yet as the dark bliss of slumber returned, Twilight couldn't help but think, through the haze of returning oblivion. That that final echoing declaration, in a voice tinged with cruel malice, didn't sound much like salvation. . .

Hayden stared at the portal machine, a steel doughnut-like ring, approximately eight feet wide and tall, with the ring itself having a girth of about two feet. Around the outer circumference of the portal, thick cables were plugged in at specific intervals. While knobs of metal stuck out from the inner circumference at equally precise points. The metal was otherwise unadorned, the ring bolted securely into a cradle, which was in turn bolted to the warehouse floor.

Technically, this portal was actually the prototype, the final versions, currently under construction, would be much larger. Each at least twenty five feet tall and wide, allowing for the swift deployment of hundreds, or even thousands of soldiers within minutes. That was important, considering the limited supply of argent energy, and that Hayden was under no illusions that this was going to end in conflict.

His speech the previous night, though only he knew it, had been scarcely more than political theater. While it was true he wanted to avoid conflict if at all possible, it was monstrously unlikely. Honestly, he would be more than happy to simply kill the Doom Slayer, rip the Crucible from his cold dead hands, and call it an evening. However, there were currently two things that precluded this. One, was the fact that if another incident, however unlikely, such as what occurred on Mars came to pass, the Doom Slayer was likely the only being capable of stopping the ensuing demonic invasion. And second, was the fact that Hayden seriously doubted it was even possible to kill a man so terrifyingly powerful, that Hell itself trembled at the mere thought of him. Logically, Hayden knew it could be done, but considering the foes the Corax tablets claimed the Doom Slayer had bested, and Hayden's own data on the events of the Mars invasion, and he was in no hurry to test his luck if it could be avoided. Still, Hayden wouldn't have been the man he was, if he hadn't had contingencies.

Hayden had crafted dozens of plans in preparation for when he once again faced the Doom Slayer. However, he wouldn't truly know which to use, until he understood the situation on the ground. He currently knew nothing about the dimension the Slayer was in, nor what creatures resided there. He wasn't even one hundred percent sure the seraphim were involved, despite his claims to the ARC counsel. All things being equal, Hayden was taking a significant gamble. Not something he, as a man of science, was fond of.

As Hayden's mind mused about the possibilities and risks, he ran countless simulations in the back of his head. The quantum computer that served as his brain now, was seldom idle, even before the current crises. Its projections and predictions allowing him an all but supernatural ability to plan out how to approach any situation. It was what allowed him to know exactly what to say and do to get what he needed. And was a large part of how he had gained the position he now enjoyed. However, his simulations were only as accurate as the available data. Thus, without any understanding of the world he was walking into, and with little insight into the psyche of his quarry beyond his actions on Mars, and the histories provided by the Corax tablets, he was largely in the dark. So he was resorting to relying on designing as many strategies as possible, in hopes that one or more might prove useful.

Around Hayden, the warehouse teemed with activity. Scientists and military personnel moving around, or hunched over, banks upon banks of computers. Figures were checked and rechecked, charts were consulted, and data was entered and analyzed. Soldiers guarded entrances festooned with security apparatuses, and patrolled the gantries and walkways above. All were armed with shotguns or heavy cannons, with orders to detain or shoot anyone unauthorized. Secrecy and compartmentalization of information, was paramount. After all, depending on the situation, decisions might need to be made that were. . . politically unpalatable.

Hayden would of course always act to preserve humanity, but even when he was a normal man he had become painfully cognizant of how shortsighted his species could be. Honestly, it was why he had always known that one day, he would need to take control. Mankind, whether they admitted it or not, simply wasn't yet capable of seeing the big picture. Always arguing the morality or necessity of every situation, paralyzed by unwillingness to see things with logical clarity.

Besides, it wasn't as if Hayden intended to be in control forever, just until his fellow humans were ready for the responsibility of self governance. As far as Hayden was concerned, his role was like unto a parent, guiding his children until they were ready to leave the nest. Unfortunately, for the moment, they were still just that: children. Still afraid of risk, or anything they didn't understand. Hayden recalled the uproar it had caused when he explained the source of argent energy to the ARC council, and that had been only twelve people. What was that saying? No one ever want's to know how the sausage is made?

"Sir." Hayden continued to stare at the portal for a moment, before responding in a suitably somber tone.

"Yes Sergeant Cooper?" He asked, turning to look at the saluting man, his helmet held under his opposite arm.

"Everything is ready sir." Hayden liked Cooper, he was always quick and to the point, and was never without a frown that was all business. Not to mention, as a former special forces wet-work, and interrogation expert, with over fifteen years of field experience. He and his team weren't the type to question orders. Even if those orders might not be strictly in keeping with the law.

"Excellent, then let us begin. Are your men ready Sergeant?" Hayden already knew they were, but it never hurt to at least pretend he cared about their emotional state. Standing ramrod straight, the sergeant gave a curt nod.

"Sir yes sir." Hayden, sedately returned the nod.

"Good, now then. . ." Turning, Hayden signaled to one of the white coated individuals in front of the closest computer console. With a nod, the man tapped something into his keyboard. A moment later, a low hum was heard, as the power conduits attached to the portal began to spark with power. The hum built up louder and louder, as the entire portal was gradually wreathed in lightning. A smell of ozone permeated the air, as motes of electric blue energy appeared within the portal ring. The atmosphere in the warehouse became heavy, as the lights flickered amid the snap of electrical discharge.

"Power fluctuations at point zero seven six percent!" Cried out an engineer.

"Spatial dampening at full!" Called out another.

"Spacetime distortions are exceeding projections! Give it more power!" A third cried.

Through it all, Hayden faced the portal, watching as the blue motes coalesced into a swirling ring, around a disc of pure darkness. He had been through this once before, though no one else in the warehouse knew it. Back then, the ring of energy had been red, and the smell of ozone had mixed sickeningly with the reek of brimstone and spilled blood in his olfactory sensors. He recalled back then, that several of the engineers had gone mad as the portal opened. Smashing their heads open against their consoles as they screamed in terror and agony. Others vomited, or fell into a catatonic state, as they muttered strange things in unknown languages. This time, was different. . .

As the portal stabilized, a scent like fresh flowers permeated the room, as a barely audible sound like wind chimes was heard. A strange, tranquil silence, settled over everything, as several men and women paused what they were doing, a feeling of profound contentment spreading over them, gentle smiles appearing on their faces. Had he the ability, Hayden would have arched an eyebrow. Then suddenly, he heard the sergeant shift behind him. Turning, Hayden just barely caught sight of the hardened veteran wiping something from his eyes, as a strangely peaceful expression passed across his features.

"Are you. . . crying, Sergeant Cooper?" Shaking his head as if waking from a dream, the sergeant's face once more became a stony frown.

"No sir." He declared, only the barest hint of hesitation in his voice, as he placed his helmet on his head, and checked his weapon. "Squad! Form up!" Cooper declared swiftly, as if trying to distract himself from his strange display. Immediately, the other four members of Hayden's security detail, took up positions behind their commanding officer. Before them all, the portal loomed, a pitch black disc, wreathed in blue. That despite its unsettling appearance, seemed oddly inviting to them. "We go in first." He declared through his helmet. "Once we secure the area, Doctor Hayden will come through. If we see any intelligent life, orders are to detain and question, or terminate if they prove hostile. Remember, the terrain is unknown, so no field trips. We do this quick and clean! Understood?!"

"SIR!" Came the chorus of replies. Before, with a final glance at Hayden, the five men charged into the portal. . .

Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Applejack, stared at the oddly somber pony and human across the table from them. Normally, their little Tuesday friendship council get-togethers, were filled with nothing but smiles and laughter, over the finest breakfasts in Derran's considerable repertoire. This time however, while the onion and tomato quiche with basil, homemade cinnamon rolls, and scones with raspberry jam, were certainly up to Derran's usual five star standard, the conversation had been. . . lacking.

Twilight and Derran had barely said anything beyond 'hello'. And though Derran's mystical inexhaustibility made him seem daisy fresh, Twilight, in addition to slight circles under her eyes, looked more than a little frazzled. Her mane and tail appearing slightly wild, and her coat in need of a bit of brushing. Both had also barely eaten anything, largely just playing with their food, and appearing lost in some ephemeral world within their heads. Not to mention that while Derran still looked nothing short of immaculate, his manner of dress was strangely casual for him. A simple unadorned green t-shirt, with black jeans and sneakers, he wasn't even wearing a belt. Though to most he might look fine, this was as close as his friends had ever seen him to looking slovenly.

At first, the girls had tried to cover for the pair's strange behavior, by discussing the events of the previous week amongst themselves. Each trying to ease their friends into the conversation by asking for an opinion or comment from them. Unfortunately, Twilight and Derran only surfaced from their respective inner worlds, just long enough to offer a generic non-committal response. At least, on the rare occasion they didn't need to ask for a complete recap of the entire conversation, before once again becoming lost in their own thoughts. Rather predictably, it was Rainbow Dash who first lost patience with the situation.

"Ok seriously you two, are we having breakfast together with you guys? Or just providing background noise?" She sniped, her voice tinged with a fair degree of irritation. Apparently her tone was severe enough to penetrate Derran and Twilight's gloomy brooding, as both of their heads suddenly snapped up from staring at their plates, with expressions of faint bewilderment. Derran, who was unquestionably more awake than Twilight, was the first to recover.

"I. . . my apologies Lady Dash, I suppose we are rather bringing down the mood." He offered, his tone conciliatory. Twilight nodded.

"Sorry girls, I. . ." Here Twilight paused for a sizable yawn. "guess that dream I had last night messed with my sleep more than I thought." Derran arched an eyebrow. He knew lady Twilight had been disturbed by a bad dream last night, he hadn't realized she had remembered it. Most of the time she had no recollection of her dreams, or at least, that was what she told him on the one or two occasions he'd asked.

"A nightmare? Oh darling that's dreadful!" Rarity offered sympathetically. "Though I'm surprised that Princess Luna didn't catch it?" Twilight shook her head.

"It was over pretty quick, she probably just didn't have time." She replied, debating on how much she wanted to say. Honestly, she really wanted to discuss her reoccurring dream with Luna and Celestia before bringing it up with her friends. Not that they didn't offer amazing support, it was simply that Twilight couldn't help but feel the dreams had a mystical element to them. Thus, she wanted a professional opinion before she worried anypony else about it. However, after a bit of hemming and hawing, she decided on a middle ground. "It also. . . didn't really start out as a nightmare. Derran was in it and-."

"Oooooh, one of those dreams." Rainbow interjected, with a wide, devious grin. Twilight instantly felt herself blush a spectacular shade of crimson.

"N-no it wasn't like that!" She swiftly denied. Rainbow however, just smiled wider.

"Relax Twilight, we're all friends here. No need to hide it. Who knows? If you tell us, Derran might be willing to make it come true. . ." Twilight instantly felt her thoughts derail. Truth be told, she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had a dream or two like that, and Rainbow's comment made them all come roaring to the forefront of her mind. The curse of being a virgin sleeping with the object of your desire, and being an, ever so slightly, sexually repressed nerd with an avid imagination. Worse yet, Twilight and Derran's non-consummated sleeping arrangements, were one of Rainbow's favorite things to tease her about. "Would it help if we all went first?" Rainbow asked salaciously. Before diving in without waiting for an answer. "Ok, so in this one dream I had, me and this really hot stallion from Wonderbolt tryouts last year, were in the showers and-." It was at this point that Applejack, unceremoniously shoved a scone into her friend's mouth.

"I reckon Twilight wouldn't be so tired if the dream were happy Rainbow. 'Sides, I've heard that dream of yours once before, an' ah know it ain't the kinda thing you discuss at breakfast." Chewing swiftly and then swallowing, Rainbow gave Applejack a mock glare.

"Killjoy." She declared with a slight smirk. It was then that Fluttershy spoke up, more than a little eager to steer the conversation back into less mortifying territory.

"So. . . what was your dream about Twilight?" She asked softly.

"Well, I've been having it for-." Twilight was interrupted by a frantic pounding on the door of the council chamber, along with the cries of a familiar voice.

"Princess! Derran! It's Derpy! Please tell me you're there?!!" Derran, startled into action, was already halfway to the door as Derpy finished. Throwing open the portal, the gray mailmare collapsed into the room. Panting and sweaty, her slightly misaligned gaze fell on Derran, and a look of relief swept over her.

"Derpy, what's wrong?! Are you okay?!" Twilight asked in concern, as Derran and Applejack helped their unexpected guest to her hooves. Derpy shook her head vigorously as Rarity levitated a glass of water over to her. Grabbing it, Derpy gulped it down greedily, as she struggled to catch her breath.

"It's. . . that guy. . . the bad one!" Derpy gasped out, clearly frantic. "Saw him. . . when I was. . . making my delivery rounds. . . told everypony to hide. . . came here to. . . get you!" Derran instantly experienced a feeling like a snake writhing in his gut at Derpy's words. Kneeling down, he stared into her eyes.

"Deep breaths, Lady Hooves." He stated, forcing himself to be calm. "Be specific, what did he look like? Can you recall his name?" Derpy nodded, forcing her breathing to get under control.

"The one who you told me about!" She declared, clearly still on the edge of panic. "The one who you said made himself into a robot!" Instantly, Derran felt his blood run cold. Even as his mind and soul, ignited with pure rage. The list of foes Derran had that were still alive was short. The list of foes he had that were still alive and that he had spoken to Derpy about, was shorter still. But the list of foes Derran had, that had once been, but were no longer, flesh and blood, had but a single name. A name that to Derran, held a hatred as great as he possessed for any demon.

"My Ladies, please stay with Lady Hooves, and have her tell you everything she can about our intruder." He stated, rising to his feet.

"Ok, but where are you going?" Twilight asked. Derran's face was like the bronze mask of a statue, his eyes flickering red, as he replied in a voice as hard as blood soaked iron.

"To arm myself."

Samuel Hayden, had seen and done a great many unusual, wondrous, and, to the ignorant in his opinion, terrible things. He had traversed Hell. A place most considered, incorrectly, as the final destination for the souls of the wicked. He had personally come face to face with demons, and subsequently dissected them. He had refined the chaotic and destructive power of the Hell dimension into a usable source of clean energy. Built the world's first artificial intelligence. And even cheated the cold jaws of death with his genius.

It took a great deal to surprise Samuel Hayden. He had not been surprised at the marked difference in the air purity of this new world, containing not even a trace of pollution. He had not batted a metaphorical eyelash, at readings that the soil beneath his feet was not only incredibly fertile, but rich beyond calculation in precious gems, minerals, and metals, including gold, silver, platinum, and palladium. He did not comment at the strange, but immeasurably powerful and abundant, unidentified energy that suffused nearly everything here, from animals and plants, to the soil and air themselves. He had not felt any great shock, at passing several species of lifeforms that, until now, had been described only in the myths and fables of earth. He had not even been surprised when he noticed a distinct, human level of intelligence in the eyes of otherwise ordinary animals. Yet, at the site of the first fully sentient inhabitants of this strange new world, Hayden found himself momentarily at a loss.

He had considered everything from traditional angels, to the possibility of an unimaginably technologically advanced race of bio-engineered superbeings. He had planned for floating islands in a spacetime void, squid people holding court in an undersea kingdom, or even lifeforms made entirely of energy. But never once in his calculations, had he ever considered a race of talking, brightly colored, ever-so-slightly-anthropomorphic, equines. Some even possessing the features of the mythical pegusus and unicorns from the fanciful writings of earth. The latter of whom, appeared to be using the strange energy Hayden had detected earlier, in tangible form for various day-to-day tasks. In fact, based on what Hayden could detect, which admittedly wasn't much, as the energy scrambled his sensors slightly, all three types of these. . . ponies, seemed to radiate the energy, the way a generator radiated an electromagnetic field.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Asked one of Collins men via their unit comm, 'Bernard Stemas' if his voice print was accurate.

"Granted." Collins replied.

"What in the hell are we looking at?" Bernard asked, his voice showing no fear, and only the barest hint of confusion.

"The usual." Collins replied, with the cold efficiency Hayden had selected him for. "They're either non-coms, or the enemy."

"How do we know which?" Asked another voice, that Hayden identified as a man named Edward Simpson. Hayden heard a dark chuckle from another member of Collins team, one, William Stroud.

"Simple, you shoot a few and see who runs." At that point Hayden decided to chime in.

"Sargent, make certain your men fire only on my order. Whatever these creatures may appear to be, we have no idea what they're capable of." Collins responded with a swift 'yes sir', before switching back to what he thought was a private channel.

"You heard the Doctor, the first man who so much as thinks about opening fire without a direct order, I will personally execute for treason! And if you think I'm joking, then allow me to remind you that we are not on earth anymore. So as far as the law is concerned, I am your own personal judge, jury, and executioner. Do I make myself clear?!"

"Sir!" Came a quartet of replies. As Collins tuned back into Hayden's channel.

"Sir, are you going to let them know you're here?" From Collins position over two thousand feet distant, and camouflaged amid the branches of an enormous maple tree at the edge of a forest. A forest that, frankly, gave even a cold hearted bastard like him the willies. He noted that Hayden was a good mile from the edge of the town, and the massive, crystal tree-like castle, Collins was forcing himself not to acknowledge for the sake of his straining sense of reality.

"No need." Hayden replied, artificially injecting levity into his tone. "They already know. One of the flying ones saw me a moment ago. She spoke briefly to the others before heading off toward that strange castle. I believe our target must have told these creatures who I am, or at least, who he claims I am." Collins didn't reply immediately, as he examined the town through his binoculars.

"Sir, it looks like the. . . civilians, are starting to take cover. Orders?" Hayden pretended to take a moment to consider things.

"Can you still target them in those buildings?" Hayden already knew the answer, but it was the kind of thing Collins would expect Hayden to ask.

"Yes sir. Most of those structures appear to just be brick and stucco. A rail cannon shot will tear through them like paper. And with our exo-scopes, they'll have nowhere to hide." Hayden was relieved to hear the sergeant's reply was calm and professional, rather than eager or vengeful. The last thing he needed to do was anger the Doom Slayer by killing one of his pets.

As much as it galled Hayden to admit, his negotiating position was tenuous at best. He had initially hoped he might be able to persuade the seraphim, assuming they were even present, to give up the Crucible voluntarily. A shaky plan to say the least. However, a new plan was swiftly taking form in Hayden's mind. One with a far higher chance of success. But, it all hinged on two critical pieces of information. First, did this strange equine species have a method of extradimensional travel? And second, how much did the Doom Slayer, a man whose entire existence was defined by death and fighting, care about these creature's wellbeing? If the answers to these questions were what he hoped, then Hayden might yet attain a bloodless, if rather coldhearted, victory. But in all honesty, who cared if the victory wasn't entirely clean? After all, the purpose of all this was to save the human species. In the face of so lofty a goal, who cared if it necessitated a little ruthlessness? More to the point, considering no one but him and the ARC council would likely ever know the details, who was even going to know?

"Sir, we have the target. He just exited the base of the castle accompanied by six of those creatures. He's armed, obvious weapons are a sidearm and a sword. He doesn't appear to be wearing any armor. Permission to take the shot?" Hayden swiftly replied, grateful once again that he could hide his true emotions behind artificial ones.

"Negative sergeant. I doubt he has the Crucible on him, and he cannot tell us its location if he's dead." Hayden's tone was perfectly calm, but within he encountered a momentary pang of concern. Even in the incredibly unlikely event the Doom Slayer had the Crucible on his person, if the sergeant or one of his men provoked the Slayer that directly, none of them would likely see earth again. Not only was an attempt at killing him massively unlikely to be successful, but if Hayden's growing suspicions about the Slayer's relationship with these equines proved true, then they would likely be picking a fight that not even the armies of Hell itself had been able to win. This situation needed to be handled with the utmost delicacy. . .

Pure, brutal, primal rage, filled every cell that made up Derran's corporeal being. Derran wanted nothing more than to run up to Hayden, and rip him into pieces so tiny he could be placed in a matchbox, then hurl said matchbox into an erupting volcano. However, as terrible as his fury was, Derran held it back with an iron will, and the tactical knowledge that Hayden would not dare be so brazen without some form of insurance. And Derran had a fairly good inkling what that insurance was.

On Mars, Derran had held all the cards. There was nothing and nocreature he loved or cared about on that detestable rock. Hayden had nothing to hold over him, nothing to threaten him with or offer him. Derran hadn't needed Hayden's instructions, nor his dubious advice. He hadn't needed Hayden to tell him where to go or how to get there. He hadn't even really needed Hayden to tell him how to get to Hell, or what to do when he arrived. He actually had already been hunting the Crucible, though at the time he hadn't known its name, when the thrice damned hell priests had collapsed their temple on him and cursed him to, what they no doubt hoped was, eternal stasis. All Hayden had done was speed up the inevitable. Now however. . .

Derran looked surreptitiously to his left and right, feeling a flare of worry for the loved ones whom trotted at his side with grim and determined faces, safety. Wondering for the millionth time in the last few minutes, if this was a sound strategy. True, meeting Hayden with so many of his family close to hand, allowed him to arrive projecting strength. Showing he did not fear whatever violence Hayden might bring to bare. But it also put them at the most risk. He had of course taken what precautions he could, but none were as good as simply telling Twilight to teleport herself and the others as far away as possible. Granted, it was somewhat moot regardless. Twilight would never abandon the rest of Ponyville to save her own coat, and even if that weren't the case, she would never leave behind Spike or Starlight, both of whom were still in town.

At the end of everything, Hayden had caught Derran unprepared, and ill equipped. He couldn't even use his armor, as it was currently in Doctor Whooves's lab, in a state of partial disassembly. This was doubly crippling, as it placed nearly all of Derran's weapons out of reach. With a flare of self remonstrance, he cursed himself that he had only deigned to keep Unmaker and his pistol in easy reach. Though, to be fair, more guns would hardly help. No matter how you looked at the situation, one terrible truth was omnipresent. No matter how armed or armored he was, Derran now had creatures he cared about, beings he loved. He now had something to lose, he, the mighty Doom Slayer, was now vulnerable.

Derran took a breath to clear his mind. He may not be able to shoot his way out of this, but he wasn't defenseless either. Before he had trained as a soldier, Derran was being groomed to replace the most cunning and charismatic politician his country had ever known. Digging deep into his memory, he recalled all his long dead father had taught him. Every lesson on intrigue, subtlety, and courtly guile. Instantly, his father's voice echoed in his mind.

"Use your opponent's preconceptions against them my boy! Men, particularly those not used to being contradicted or corrected, tend to make judgements without truly having all the facts. They see a fruit who's shape is not what they expect, and declare it rotten! Never thinking to cut it open and confirm it."

Hayden, when last he and Derran had met, admitted to thinking him a mere brute. An unthinking being of rage and violence. Derran gave a momentary dark smirk, he could use that. Additionally, Hayden had no idea how anything in Equestria actually worked. However much Hayden might have guessed, he was still only guessing. Not to mention, Derran knew exactly what Hayden had come here for. Thus, Derran was the only one of them who knew the true nature of the fruit they were looking upon, all he had to do, was ensure Hayden didn't cut it open. As he strode through Ponyville, Derran began formulating his plan, and silently thanking the infinite wisdom of his beloved Celestia, for the opportunity she had given him to resharpen his political skills in Canterlot. He would need to keep his anger on a tight leash, but if it was to protect his home, no task was too great. Abruptly however, he was broken from his thoughts as two familiar figures galloped up to him.

"Hey Derran, what's going on? Why is everypony hiding in their homes?" Before Derran, Twilight, and the Friendship Council, was a worried looking Starlight Glimmer, just returned from breakfast with her friends Trixie and Maud at the edge of town. And Spike, whom had left early that morning to assist the Cutie Mark Crusaders at Sweet Apple Acres. Both appearing to recognize his grim expression for what it was. Derran wasted no time, explaining in as succinct a manner as possible.

"Hayden has somehow manage to reach Equestria. Lady Starlight, I ask that you project the strongest shield you are able, over as much of the town as you are capable. If it is possible, make the shield invisible to the naked eye. Master Spike, I ask you return to Sweet Apple Acres. Find the CMC, Venerable Smith, and Lord Macintosh. They have a cellar under the main house, I want you all to conceal yourselves there until somecreature comes for you. Hurry now!" The pair nodded as they headed off to their tasks without comment or complaint. As Derran continued walking, he spoke to Twilight and the others.

"Lady Twilight, have you a spell that can hide your, and our friends, expressions?" Twilight thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah. . . I think I have something that will do the trick." She replied, a vague idea already appearing in her mind of what Derran intended.

"Excellent." Derran declared, his voice a whisper, as he schooled his expression into one of acute irritation. Wanting any unseen observers to not guess his instructions based on the orientation of his facial features. "Do so at once. Then, if you have an invisible shield you can throw over us, I would ask that you do so." Again, Twilight nodded, as she lit her horn and everycreature's faces briefly glowed.

"Done, I used a spell that should give us all whatever expressions you want us to have. I got the feeling that would be the most helpful. Anything else?" Derran nodded almost imperceptibly as they reached the edge of Ponyville.

"Stay true to yourselves, but be as silent as you can, have faith in my words, and know that my plan relies upon them."

"What's that mean?" Rainbow asked, slightly puzzled. Derran gave a brief smirk.

"Recall 'Daring Do and the Ivory Torc' Lady Dash, and remember the virtue of subtlety. You will know what I mean when the time comes." He declared, as they passed the last few houses, and he deliberately shaped his expression into one of absolute fury. Granted, considering that was his current actual mood, it wasn't exactly difficult. Continuing on in silence, Derran pleaded to the Light that he had the oratory and thespian skill, to pull this off. And the power to protect his home, if he did not.

When Derran at last caught site of Hayden, he felt as if his blood had caught fire. Every instinct he had, screaming at him to run forward and cleave Hayden's head from his shoulders, then hammer what remained into dust and shattered circuits with his bare fists. Holding himself back from acting on this impulse, while simultaneously using it to bolster his verbal performance, was an effort great enough to cause Derran a small degree of actual pain. Nevertheless, he held on, the thought of his family and friends wellbeing granting him control. Still, Hayden had come looking for a beast, and Derran vowed, he would not have to look far. . .

"HAYDEN!! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!" Derran's bellow was that of an enraged brawler, on sighting a challenger he particularly despised. Any trace of his aristocratic side thoroughly erased. As he stomped closer to Hayden, cracking his knuckles, Derran heard a familiar voice echo in his mind. A strange sensation of faint mental displacement close behind.

+You keep an eye on what to say, but I'll do the talking. I speak evil bastard in every language under the sun. . .+ The Doom Slayer internally hissed. Derran, though unsettled by his slight loss of control, had to concede that the Slayer would doubtlessly sell this better than he would.

As Derran closed to within twenty feet of Hayden, what appeared to be a beam of brilliant blue-white light, shot from the tree line a mile and a half distant, to blast a sizable crater several feet in front of him, in an eruption of earth. Derran's face screwed up into a perfectly feigned expression of stunned surprise, as he looked down at the smoldering hole in the ground. Before displaying a far more sincere look of psychotic, but impotent, fury.

"FUCKING COWARD!! FIGHT ME LIKE A REAL MAN YOU LIGHT-DAMNED RUSTED HEAP OF JUNKYARD SCRAP!!" Hayden seemed almost amused by Derran's rage.

"As tempting an offer as that is, I'll have to decline." Here Hayden glanced at Derran's companions, and once again Derran had to restrain himself, as the hand near his holstered pistol visibly twitched. "So. . . this is why you fight." Hayden drawled. It was not a question. Derran's tone became a low growl.

"You touch one hair in their manes, and I'll shove your head so far up your robo-ass that-." Hayden halted Derran's tirade with an upraised hand, his tone bored.

"Yes yes, I'm sure whatever anatomically improbable threat you were about to make would be absolutely terrifying, but I'm afraid I don't have the time. You must know why I'm here?" Derran's expression became a savage smile in spite of Hayden's flippant response.

"If you mean that trinket I ripped outta' your hand after I tore your arm off last time we met? I smashed the fucking thing!" Hayden tilted his head slightly.

"Oh did you?" He asked, clearly not believing it. "You 'smashed' one of the most potent artifacts Hell ever created? An artifact that, if the energy it contained were to be released explosively, would likely total out to the power of several supernovas?" Derran pretended to look uncertain, it was only for a split second, but Hayden spotted it. "There is no need to lie Slayer. Besides, I haven't come looking for a fight." Derran spat to his side as he glared at Hayden.

"Bullshit!" He snarled. Hayden just sighed, or rather, he pretended to. A fact that Derran found very interesting. Why simulate an emotional response like that? Was it automatic? Or. . . was it calculated? Hayden spoke in a conciliatory tone.

"I assure you, I am not lying. I have no interest in harming you or your. . . pets." At that, Rainbow Dash spoke up, in a tone of indignant rage.

"We're not Derran's pet's pal! We're his friends! And Derran told us all about you! You're the jerk who's entire planet would'a been a demon playground, if Derran hadn't saved it!" She snarled, hovering at Derran's shoulder as she glared at Hayden in disdainful anger. Hayden simply turned his head towards Rainbow.

"And did he tell you that he also destroyed the single source of energy that billions on my planet rely on to live?" Hayden asked coldly. Rainbow, felt her blood boil, as she prepared to launch into an angry tirade about how Hayden was lying through his nonexistent teeth, and that his world would be better off living without power than getting eaten by demons. But she suddenly stopped, as she remembered what she was sure was the scene in 'Daring Do and the Ivory Torc', that Derran wanted her to recall.

In the scene, Daring Do pretended she believed Doctor Caballeron when he tried to convince her that Ahuizotl had forced him to do bad things against his will for as long as she had known him. Then, by playing along with his lie, and acting sympathetic, she tricked him into giving her all the information she needed to foil both their plans and retrieve the treasure she was after. Rainbow had a feeling that Derran wanted her to pretend she might be willing to listen to Hayden. Rainbow's first instinct was to go all out, and accuse Derran of lying to her, but something held her back. The virtue of subtlety. . . Derran didn't want her to make a scene, just to act as if she might have doubts.

"No. . ." Rainbow replied slowly. "But if he did then he. . . I'm sure he had a good reason!" She protested, straining her acting skills to the limit. As she allowed herself to float down to the ground, her bluster and anger seemingly gone. Silently, she thanked Pinkie Pie for forcing her to attend those improvisational theater workshops with her that one winter.

"I'm sure he believes he did." Hayden replied, his voice altering to sound sympathetic. "But I'm sure you can see how his information might be a bit. . . biased?" Rainbow, just gave a snort of annoyance, as she forced herself to look chastened. In her head, she hoped she'd done enough to help whatever plan Derran was hatching. . .

Hayden took a moment to reassess the situation. Clearly the Doom Slayer, or 'Derran' as his real name apparently was, hadn't told his odd companions quite all the details of his adventures on Mars. Whether out of some desire to protect them, or because he simply hadn't cared to, was irrelevant. The fact was, Hayden had an opening to drive a wedge between the Slayer and his supposed friends.

"You know. . . I suspect Doom Slayer, that you are not actually in charge here." If he'd been able, Hayden would have smiled at the way the Doom Slayer stiffened, almost imperceptibly, at that statement. Deciding to fish for a little information, he chose his next words with deliberate care. "Tell me. . . are the seraphim available?" The Doom Slayer instantly bared his teeth, giving Hayden a look not unlike a vicious dog straining at its leash. As the most unique equine of the bunch, suddenly stepped forward.

She. . . as from their slighter figures and longer manes, Hayden was sure almost all the strange creatures with the Slayer were female, the one uncertainty being the rainbow haired one, whom Hayden only confirmed after she spoke, had a coat the color of lavender. While her tail and hair, or mane Hayden supposed, were a deep eggplant purple with indigo and magenta highlights. On her flank, Hayden saw a large white and magenta star, surrounded by five smaller white stars. Her eyes were a brilliant violet, and her face as a whole, was ever-so-vaguely human in appearance. However, what was most noticeable about her, was that she had not only a spiral horn jutting proudly from her forehead, but also a set of small wings. Her horn glowed with a soft light, that Hayden's sensors could not identify, save for its incredibly high energy value. When the creature spoke, Hayden had an odd sensation of not quite being able to read her expression, but it passed, as he realized she was glaring at him.

"I'm Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship. Normally I'd be happy to hear out any visitor to Equestria, but in this case, and as far as you're concerned Doctor Hayden, Derran here speaks for me and all the other leaders involved." She declared sternly. Hayden instantly felt a degree of what, in a human, would have been irritation. It seemed he had been incorrect, whatever doubt he might have inspired in the rainbow one. This. . . Twilight, clearly had no qualms handing over negotiations to the brutish Slayer.

Still, this had given Hayden no small amount of useful information. First, while her title sounded largely ceremonial, and ridiculous in Hayden's opinion, she was clearly only one leader of a group. In addition, her words opened up the possibility that there were other nations besides this, Equestria. What's more, her appearance suggested some form of tribal class system, where rulership was given only to those with particular physical characteristics. Given time, Hayden likely could have fomented a revolution, or turned the neighboring lands against this one to strengthen his bargaining position. Unfortunately, time was the one thing Hayden didn't have. The vast, but sharply limited, supply of argent energy on earth, forcing Hayden to favor speed.

"Are you certain your highness? I don't mean to be blunt, but if I can't produce what I need from this expedition, the situation could become. . . diplomatically untenable. Perhaps you should consult these other rulers you speak of first?" Twilight stared at Hayden with a look of grim defiance.

"I am sure. I trust Derran with all my heart, I know he will do what's right." Hayden triggered a sound like an exhausted sigh, as he turned to look at the Doom Slayer.

"Very well then, I will be direct. I want the artifact you stole from my lab on Mars. Human civilization on my world cannot function without argent energy, our primary power source, and the artifact, the Crucible, is now the only thing in existence that can allow us to harness it once more. Right now, the survival of my species is on the line, so I will do whatever I must to secure what I need." Here Hayden paused to gesture to the forest and hills behind him. "I currently have several highly trained snipers aiming their weapons at the citizens of this town. I trust I don't need to explain to you what that means?" For the first time, Hayden saw, however briefly, an expression of panic flicker across the Slayer's features. However, an instant later, it was again eclipsed by rage.

"You know I could rip you apart before they so much as pull the trigger you cock sucking piece of shit! The Crucible means fuck-all if you're dead!" The Slayer barked. Hayden was unperturbed.

"Yes. . ." he conceded calmly. "I have no doubt you could end my life if you tried. I also don't doubt you could kill all the men I brought with me, regardless of their weapons, armor, and training. I would even go so far to say, that if you ever got back to earth, you could, eventually, kill every man woman and child on it. However, I am also one hundred percent certain. . . that you won't. Because though you could do all that, you couldn't do it, and save your friends in that village at the same time." Hayden was glad he didn't have a biological body right now, as what emotions he still possessed felt stretched to the limit. This was the moment of truth. If the Slayer attacked. . . if Hayden had underestimated how much the Doom Slayer seemed to care for these creatures. . . then he was dead. Him. . . and every human back on earth. Hayden could feel the Slayer's rage, feel how much he wanted to kill him, even despite having circuits instead of nerves. If he had still been a normal man, he had no doubt he'd be a sweating, terror stricken mess by now. As it was, he stayed implacable, unafraid, a mountain of logic and certainty.

Yet, for just a moment, one, traitorous moment, Hayden felt a whisper of true terror, as he gazed into the Doom Slayer's blazing red eyes. . . In those scarlet pools, for a single moment that seemed to last for an eternity, Hayden saw a darkness so deep and terrible, that even the loss of his human form could not protect him from its horror. It was not 'Hate' as humanity understood it. In those eyes was an emotion older than hate. It was a poisonous, brutal wrath, that had festered since before time and space had even existed. Gods and monsters fled in terror from it, and strong men buried themselves beneath their covers, praying to impotent and equally terrified deities, that it would never fall upon them. In those eyes, Hayden saw stars die, solar systems disintegrate, and galaxies fade from reality. In that one instant, Hayden saw the face of a being that could destroy the universe. And then. . . it was gone. Replaced by a split second expression of bitterness, spite, and. . . resignation.

"I. . . can't give you the crucible." The nearly unnoticeable note of defeat in that statement, was palpable to Hayden. As the Doom Slayer's face, became a stony mask. Hayden, though he would never show or admit it, felt a pang of relief, buoyed up by a vicious feeling of proud dominance. The Slayer had blinked. . . this was Hayden's show now. Still, there was one last loose end he wanted to tie up. He spoke quickly, before the Slayer could clarify his statement.

"The Legion won't save you. If that is what you are pinning your hopes on." The Slayer's expression became one of unmoving stone.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked coldly. "It's a pretty dependable piece of hardware." Hayden analyzed every aspect of the Slayer's response, as well as those of the creatures either side of him. Micro expressions, lip movements, muscle twitches, and vocal tone down to the sub and super harmonic level. The result was unanimous. . . whatever kind of weapon the Legion was, or had been, neither the Slayer, nor the ponies, thought it would help. Hayden would have given a triumphant smile if he could have. Still, he played up the diplomatic angle, just to be safe.

"I don't like this any more than you do, Doom Slayer. You saved my world, I'm grateful for that, truly I am. But I'm not going to let you damn it all over again, just to appease your dogmatic need for revenge. Give me what I want, and I promise you, neither I, nor anyone from my universe, will ever set foot here again." The Slayer just shook his head.

"Even if I was enough of a dumbass to believe you. And even if I was crazy enough to think that you stealing power from Hell would go any different the second time around. That's not the problem. I can't give you the Crucible, because I don't know where it is, and even if I did, I can't get to it." Hayden, again, used every sensor at his disposal to ascertain the truth. To his shock, he found the Slayer wasn't lying.

"Then who does know?" Hayden demanded. The Slayer glanced at Twilight for the briefest of instants, just long enough to receive a single nod.

"No one country has the full location. The seraphim, and the leaders of the lands around Equestria, hid the Crucible behind a lock only the Seraphim can open, made a map of its location, broke the map into parts, and then used magic to destroy their memories of the location. The only way to find and open it again, is to get all the kingdoms involved to agree to hand over their pieces of the map." Hayden again, tried to find even the faintest trace of a lie in the Slayer's relentlessly grim expression, but it again was negative. Around him, the colorful equine aliens wore varying expressions, from sadness and fear, to anger, but all indicated that none of them thought the Slayer was lying either.

"How long will that take?" Hayden asked, annoyed, but glad they were finally making progress. Though the scientist in him instinctively recoiled at the idea of 'magic'. Which he assumed was what they thought the strange energy he was detecting was.

"About three to four months, minimum. Hiding it took even longer." At that point, Twilight chimed in, her voice studiously neutral.

"Even with the aid of magic and airship travel, just sending out all the necessary envoys will take weeks. There's a reason it's rare for all the nations to gather." That, Hayden balked at, though he did note that Twilight's comment about travel times likely precluded any possibility of extradimensional portals. While in theory he could use another month to finish fully readying the ARC forces, every second of delay, cost argent that could not be replenished. Not to mention that, regardless of what his sensors were telling him, Hayden was sure something about this was off.

"I will give you two weeks." He declared. The reaction was instantaneous, as the Doom Slayer growled.

"Did you even fucking listen you pompous tin can?! It can't be done in two weeks! Maybe two months if we get lucky but not-." Hayden cut off the Slayer's rant with a tone of cold anger of his own. Manufactured of course, but who was to know?

"One month." He stated. "Accept it, or I bring my soldiers tomorrow, and you can take as long as you want with my men occupying every town and city they find. The whole of earth and its armies are united against you Slayer, so do not think for a moment that I'm bluffing. I do not like resorting to threats, but I'm not making my people wait just because you don't want to break tradition!" The Slayer shot Hayden a glare with all the volatility of a nuclear blast. When he spoke, his tone was one of a rage, only tenuously held in check.

"Fuck you rust dick! But fine, we'll make sure it all gets done in a month." Here the Slayer fixed Hayden with another look of pure hate. "But if you or any of your spies set foot here before our month is up, or if you ever come here again after you get the Crucible, then I swear to all that is holy, I will find a way to turn your whole Light forsaken planet into a fucking tomb!" Hayden dearly wished he could smile. Perhaps one day he'd rig up a hologram to allow him the ability to have an expression when he wished. After watching helplessly on Mars as the Slayer destroyed his life's work, there would have been a certain satisfaction in a little nonverbal gloating.

"Agreed. You see how much easier it is if we all just talk things out?" If looks could kill, the one the Slayer shot Hayden would likely have melted him into monatomic ash, and then evaporated whatever remained of his soul.

"Just get the fuck out of here you psychopath!" The Slayer snarled. "You got what you wanted! May you fucking choke on it!" Hayden nodded as he turned to go. However, he had not gone ten steps, before the Doom Slayer spoke again.

"Hayden!" Turning around, Hayden was once more met with an expression like Stone from the Slayer.

"Yes? I was under the impression you wanted me gone as soon as possible. I don't suppose that's changed in the last five seconds?" Oddly, the Slayer ignored him, fixing Hayden with a look he couldn't quite place.

"You once told me that you weren't the villain in this story. . . But you just threatened to murder a town full of innocent stallions, mares, and foals to get what you wanted. Then you did it again, when their leaders didn't move fast enough for you. Tell me something. . . what would you call someone like that?"" The Slayer's tone was calm, unaccusing, but carried a weight that was almost oppressive. For a moment, Hayden's brain went into overdrive, trying to square the question with the man asking it. But in the end, Hayden cut the analyses short. It wasn't important anymore, and he already had the right answer, or at least, the answer his logical mind told him was right.

"I told you: I do what I do, because there is no choice." He stated, the conviction in his voice unshakable. As the words hung in the air, the Slayer gave a slow, deliberate nod. His gaze becoming like steel, before giving a response, that had Hayden still been human, would have chilled him to his core, despite it's cryptic nature.

"Then. . . on your head it be."

"If you don't mind me asking DG, what was all that stuff you told Mr. Robomeanie about?" Pinkie Pie asked, for once nearly as confused as everypony else, as they sat around the friendship map in Twilight's castle. Derran stood with his back to them, staring out a window at the Everfree forest as he replied.

"I know Hayden. . . I know what kind of creature he is." Here Derran turned, revealing an expression as foreboding as grey skies above a tempestuous sea. "I also know what kind of man he thinks he is. The instant I heard he was here, I had an idea of his plan. Though I hoped I was wrong." Further explanation was temporarily delayed, as Starlight and Spike came through the door.

"We did what you asked Derran." Spike stated, his tone serious. "Starlight scryed on that Hayden guy until he left." Starlight nodded.

"He met up with five other humans carrying weapons that looked a lot like some of yours." Starlight explained. "Then, about five minutes ago, they hopped into a portal about twenty miles or so away. Sorry, but after that the spell couldn't find him." Derran nodded.

"That was expected. Thank you Lady Starlight, and you, Master Spike. Now, before I continue my explanation, how are the citizens holding up?"

"They're doing fine, some are a little shaken, but nothing a cup of tea wouldn't fix." Twilight replied, trying to keep her tone light. Derran gave a wan smile.

"Well, that is something at least." He declared softly.

"So you gonna tell us what that hornswoggle about a map and the Crucible, an' needin' the permission of the leaders of other countries was?" Applejack asked, her eyebrow arched and her tone just a hair accusational. "If'n I'm gonna be part of a lie, ah'd at least like to know what it was for." Derran gave a slow nod.

"Very well." He replied, his tone even. "At some point or another, I believe I told everycreature in this room about Hayden, and what transpired on the planet Mars." Derran waited as every head in the room gave a nod of confirmation. "While I freely admit I did not know Hayden long, nor speak with him at any great length, I was able to divine much of his character from data I uncovered in the Mars facility, and from the projects therein." Derran took a deep and steadying breath. "In case he didn't make it blindingly obvious from his little display down there, Hayden is completely insane. He is obsessed with resurrecting the production of his precious argent energy, and genuinely believes the humans on his home planet will die without it." At that moment, Fluttershy spoke up in a worried tone.

"Is. . . that true?" Derran shook his head.

"Even if it was, having his planet absorbed by Hell would end his world no less swiftly." Here, Derran clenched his fists, and his eyes took on a momentary look of wrathful mania. "Demons are the foes of all mortal life! Trafficking with them marks one as utterly unredeemable, a villain to the core! Hayden, and all who follow him, damned themselves the instant they chose power over their own immortal souls!" He snarled, his voice filled with rage. However, at Fluttershy's suddenly frightened expression, Derran calmed, clearing his throat, his face becoming once more grim.

"Forgive me, Lady Fluttershy, it seems my emotions are still raw on the subject. Returning to Lady Applejack's question. The goal of my deception was to buy us time. Diplomacy will avail us nothing, Hayden is too far gone for that, and who knows what poisonous lies or honeyed promises he fed to his people to gain their support. That leaves us with but a single option. . . war." At that, there was a sharp intake of breath from Derran's audience.

"Is. . . is there really nothing else we can do?" Twilight asked. "I know the odds are slim but, what if we appealed to the leaders and people of earth directly?" Derran shook his head.

"With respect my Lady, even assuming we could reach them, to what end? Hayden has spent years ensuring that everything on his homeworld was dependent on argent energy. Their food, their water, their cities, governments, entertainment, communications and infrastructure. All rely on the power of argent. While I have no doubt they could survive without it, their society in its current form would collapse. It might take them decades, or even centuries, to recover. Not to mention they have no reason whatsoever to trust our word." Here Starlight spoke up.

"What if we could replace argent energy with something else? An alternative power source?" Derran shook his head.

"Have you one that they can produce on their own? Without use of magic? One based purely on technology?" Starlight hesitated.

"Well. . . no. But if they can open portals, we could offer to just replace whatever we gave them if it broke or wore out." Again, Derran shook his head.

"Approach them with that offer, and they will assume you are trying to enslave them. And before you say it, yes, that is what Hayden has already done, but they trust him. From the small amount of biographical data I gathered on Mars, Hayden is effectively the second coming of Ahriman to the people of earth. If we had something we could give them that they themselves could produce, it might be different, but we do not." Starlight opened her mouth, no doubt wanting to argue, but found she couldn't dispute Derran's logic. Yet, even as Starlight and the others digested Derran's words, a look of realization appeared on his face, before swiftly transforming into one of supreme horror. As an obvious fact, suddenly clicked in Derran's mind.

"This. . . this is my fault." He declared, his voice a chokeing whisper. As one, the ponies and dragon present, stared at Derran in confusion.

"What are you talking about DG? You didn't bring that super uncool mister meanie-meanpants here." Pinkie declared with a laugh. "I mean, it's not like you had a chance to stop him but didn't take it because of some weird moment of hesitation brought on by you wanting Hayden to know that he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. I mean, that would just be silly!" Derran stared at the wall with a blank expression, only half aware of what Pinkie was saying, as his dream from the night before came roaring back. For a moment he stood paralyzed, as images of Ponyville in flames, and his family and friends all dead, flashed before his vision.

"DAMMIT!!" He roared, slamming his fist down onto the friendship map hard enough to shake the room. Trembling with a combination of fury and panic, Derran's voice once more became a whisper. "What have I done? What in the name of the holy Light on high have I done?!" Twilight instantly was at Derran's side.

"It wasn't your fault Derran." She stated softly, placing her hoof on his arm. Derran just shook his head, his face a mask of despair and fury.

"There was a moment, just before I was sent back here by the portal exploding. . . I had Hayden dead to rights. Had him helpless, crippled. . . and instead of taking the shot and ending it, I spoke to him instead." Here Derran straightened up, his face a mask of anger and self loathing. "I wanted him to know that there was more than mindless rage at work in my actions. Wanted him to know that he, was not, a god! I wanted him to die knowing, that this was about something greater than my anger or his ego!" Here Derran seemed to deflate, falling back into an unoccupied chair. "And now, all of Equestria must pay the price for my lapse in discipline." Twilight shook her head.

"You couldn't have known." She said gently. Derran simply leaned forward in his seat, as he put his face in his hands.

"I knew he was the one loose end left on that rock. . . The only one who could possibly give Hell a second chance. . . I knew that, and I hesitated. . ." Lowering his hands, Derran's expression became one of terrifying intensity. "Never again. . ." He growled, his voice containing a tone that set manes and scales on end. Getting to his feet, Derran suddenly seemed swathed in an aura of furious and dark determination. "I lost one home. . . I will not let Hayden take another!" He declared, the ponies and dragon around him staring in a mixture of fear and awe, as he rallied. "Hayden has brought war to our doorstep. And loathed as I am to admit it, he was correct about one thing. . . I cannot do this alone."

Twilight stared at Derran, a whole new gravity now having been given to the situation. Derran had never once, in all the time she had known him, ever encountered a fight he couldn't win alone. For Celestia's sake, she'd personally witnessed him taking out an army of monsters, an Ursa Major, an empowered Queen Chrysalis, and a fully revived and demonically mutated Tirek, all in the space of an hour! The idea that this time he might be unable to protect them, suddenly drove home the reality of Hayden's threat, and how dangerous Derran felt he truly was.

"B-but if you can't help us, what are we going to do?!" Asked Fluttershy, her voice a frightened squeak. "I don't think the power of the elements will be much use here!" Fires of fierce conviction lit within Derran's eyes, as he spoke in a voice akin to the shifting of ancient stone.

"I never said I could not help you Lady Fluttershy. . . I merely said I could not do so on my own." Twilight felt her eyes widen, her mind instantly whisked back to events a year prior. And the revelation of Equestria's final, and mightiest, weapon.

"The Legion. . ." She whispered, feeling her very soul tremble at the mere memory of seeing them. Thousands of warriors in magetech armor, both terrible and tragic in their repose. Waiting silently for the day Celestia and Luna would call to them. Derran slowly nodded.

"I have seen what horrors Hayden considers acceptable when it comes to his mad delusions. To men like him, things like murder, torture, and heresies against the Light are inconsequential. All part of a dark calculus that justifies any evil in the name of getting what they desire. Hayden thinks himself a god. . . that he is above the the Seraphim. . .That he is above the Light! That his word is right merely by virtue of him having said it." At Derran's next words, all those in the room trembled with combined feelings of dread, and hope. "Tomorrow, we shall raise the power, that has taught innumerable false gods, that they too, can die. . ."

Rise. . .

Author's Note

Hello everyone, Thule117 here with a few things to say before we get started, and brace yourselves because this will take a bit. First, sorry this chapter took so long to finish, I've been kinda' stressed lately and it's sapped my drive a bit. It's nothing serious, just general life annoyances and my rather distressing lack of a love life as I turn 35 (I officially have no idea how you are supposed to talk to women without being James Bond). Anyway, that aside let's address the unfortunate elephant in the room. . .

As I mentioned, this year I turned 35, what I did not mention was that my birthday was on February 24th. And unless you have been living under a rock for the last few weeks, you will understand why that date is significant. As it was the day that a genocidal madman named Vladimir Putin launched an unprovoked war of the people of Ukraine.

Since then, millions of innocent people have had to run for their lives. While those that can't have been brutally targeted by a Russian campaign of coordinated terror that ISIS and Hitler would have been proud of. Dropping bombs and missiles on schools, hospitals, and ordinary neighborhoods.

And yet, despite all of this, Russia, a supposed military juggernaut, has yet to win. In a modern retelling of David vs Goliath, the Ukrainian people, with a grit and courage that can scarcely be believed, have stymied the Russian advance. They continue to do so even now, fighting bravely for their homes, lands, and families.

Now, were it up to me, the USA would send every soldier, plane, and tank we could to help Ukraine throw the Russian army back over the border in tiny pieces. Sadly, it is not up to me. And yes, I have heard and understand the arguments for why going in is a bad idea, however I personally don't agree with them. Putin is a bully, and while he may hide behind threats of nukes and a third world war, I promise that, like every bully the world over, he is cowering in his office like a whipped dog, praying the world doesn't call his bluff.

Now if I may, I wish to address any Ukrainians reading this. There are so many things I wish say to you, but all boil down to this: don't give up! I know things must seem unimaginably bleak right now, but I urge you to look at the incredible feat you have accomplished. The Russian army by all accounts had every advantage, and everyone thought they would win in but a few days. Your people have held them off for nearly an entire month! More to that, you proved their vaunted modern military was little more than a paper tiger lead by fool who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag.

You have made sure that whatever victory Russia might ultimately claim, all history will recall, is the heroism of Ukraine and its people. So keep fighting! Fight for every field, every street, every inch of your land! If you must retreat, trap every house, every forest, every doorway! Strike whenever and wherever you can, fight in shadow, don't relent for even a second, and leave your enemies too afraid to dare close their eyes! Know that history watches you, and stands in awe of your strength!

As to my own countrymen, I urge you to offer whatever aid you can. Volunteer, donate money and supplies, call your elected officials and demand they offer more than just sanctions and words. Even if only something small, offer what support you can. Innocent people are being murdered before our eyes, we can't just turn away.

Now, I have one more person I wish to speak too, though I sincerely doubt my words shall ever reach him. I wish to address you: 'Vladimir Putin', the spinless monster who murders unarmed men, women and children. It is with great pleasure that I tell you, that you, have already lost. Because even if you take Ukraine, even if you achieve some minor short-term victory, your country is doomed. Like your army, it has been twisted by the delusions of your madness. For in the end, every aspect of your country's tenuous stability is dependent on your word, your actions, your iron fisted hold over the media, economy, and military. And when you die, and you will one day die, it will all come crashing down.

Your inner circle, whom you once frightened into submission, will tear each other apart over the scraps of your rotting empire. The people will never fear whomever comes out on top as they do you. The economic isolation of your country will turn what remains of its finances into a pile of dust. Your already dysfunctional military will collapse into anarchy, and every person whom hates you will come out of the woodwork to pick at the bones of your burning cities. And in the chaos, Ukraine will seize its moment, and its people will take back what you have stolen, and met out bloody retribution on your mewling lackeys. So I hope you enjoy forging your so-called legacy, because it is a legacy of glass. . . and I look forward to seeing it shatter.

Ok, that was a bit long winded, and a bit grim at the end there, but as with so many important things, it needed to be said. Once again I wish to thank my editor Bronyshot2020 for his assistance with this chapter. And of course finally, I dedicate this chapter to the people of Ukraine. And given your struggle I believe you will find it a very fitting chapter indeed. Now, on with the story. . .

Rise. . .

"Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys. Look upon them as your own beloved sons and daughters, and they will stand by you, even unto death. . ."

-Naga Lupercal, Grand General of Shido

Dawn broke upon Equestria as surely as it had for nearly every day in the fifteen hundred years of Celestia and Luna's reign. Questing shafts of light stretched over tree and mountain tops. Lighting hill and dale with glorious golden light. To all appearances, it was just another day in the peaceful realm of the ponies. Yet, despite this, anycreature with even a shred of wit, could say with certainty, that this day, was different. . .

The air was oddly heavy, as if a thunderstorm was preparing to materialize in the cloudless sky at any moment. There was a stillness to the world, as if all that which lived, feared to move. With even the usual faint breeze of the morning, oddly absent. No roosters crowed to greet the rising sun, no birds sang, and even those ponies that were awake, became oddly cognizant of even the faintest sound, as if worried what might hear it. Indeed, everycreature across Equestria was inexplicably tense. The world seeming to hold its breath in anticipation of some, as yet unknown, happening. It was not, fear, precisely. Rather a simple feeling that something unimaginable was about to happen, and whether for good or ill, nocreature could say.

In Ponyville, a small, but familiar group of six ponies, gathered. Their faces grim, and their stomachs tight. Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and of course, the Princess of Friendship herself, Twilight Sparkle. Many were the occasions these six figures had gathered in times of dire need. Yet none had ever recalled a feeling like this. Not when Nightmare Moon had returned. Not when Celestia told them of Discord, not during Chrysalis's attack on Canterlot, nor Sombra's on the Crystal Empire. Not even when Tirek had revealed himself, had things seemed this oddly tense.

"I can't believe this is really happening. . ." Rainbow commented, more to break the silence than because she felt like conversation. Truth be told, a part of her was slightly startled at how unusually loud her voice seemed. Applejack nodded in response.

"Ah know what ya' mean. I ain't scared, but my heart feels like its gonna beat right out of mah chest." Rainbow nodded idly in return, as she looked out toward the horizon from where she was hovering in the air.

"I still remember when we saw them. . . ya know?" She commented softly. "I remember feeling so. . . I dunno, just floored at how powerful they felt. It didn't feel real, like there was no way they could actually exist." Rarity nodded, as she added in her two cents.

"I remember feeling so strange. Like I wanted to cry, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was sad, or because I was afraid. . ." Fluttershy nodded her agreement.

"That's how I felt. Then, suddenly, it was like somepony was hugging me. I was still a bit scared, but at the same time I felt like nothing could hurt me. . ." She offered.

"Yeah, yeah! Like I'd had that awful waffle nightmare again and my papa Pie was snuggling me close and telling me everything was gonna be ok, but in a way that was all super duper intense!" Pinkie agreed, frantically gesturing with her hooves in illustration of her comment.

"Yeah, but then. . . it was over. We were back looking at that weird stone like nothing ever happened. It seemed so. . . what's that word for when something feels weird and made up even though it's real?" Rainbow asked, looking at Twilight.

"Surreal. . ." Twilight replied softly, as she stared fixedly at the doors to her castle. "And yeah, in a way, even though I knew they existed, even with Derran here, and with seeing them in his memories, it felt like a dream. I guess that's why none of us ever really asked him more about them."

"I wonder what it's like, being asleep for so long? It must get dreadfully lonely?" Rarity wondered aloud. Twilight shook her head.

"It's a stasis spell, it isn't really sleeping. For them, time has completely stopped. Out here it's been twelve hundred years, but to them, it will be as if they only closed their eyes for a second or two. At least. . . that's how it's supposed to work. The spell is partially based on D'nurian magical systems, so I'm not one hundred percent sure." Fluttershy gave an involuntary shudder.

"I can't imagine how scary it would be, to just 'blink' and have everything change? It sounds horrible!" Applejack nodded.

"You ain't kidding. Ah'd lose mah mind if I suddenly woke up an' all mah friends and family were gone. Ah. . . still cry sometimes over mah parents. Ah don' even wanna think about how ah'd feel if ah lost Big Mac, or Applebloom, or Granny Smith, or you girls! It'd be like the worst nightmare ah ever had come to life!" Rainbow looked very somber at that thought.

"It still blows my mind that they were willing to do all that. Giving up their friends, their new lives, sacrificing everything just to protect us from monsters we didn't even know were real."

"Not to mention they did it all knowing the princesses would eventually be the only ones who remembered them. And that they might never be awakened. Letting themselves be forgotten, on top of everything else? I mean, there's heroic, and then there's. . . oh heavens I can't even imagine a word capable of describing somecreature willing to do all that!" Rarity declared. As one, the ponies turned to look out in the direction of the Everfree forest.

"They were standing guard over us all this time. . . Even knowing we need them, a part of me almost wonders if we have the right to disturb them." Twilight murmured. Before anypony could reply to that, the sound of the door latch turning directed everyone's attention back to the castle entrance. Slowly, the door opened, and Celestia, Luna, and Derran exited. The princesses had arrived the previous evening, Twilight having sent an urgent summons not long after Hayden left. They had teleported immediately upon receiving the letter, but both they and Derran had barely said two words since.

Their faces were unreadable, as they stepped out into the crisp morning air. Seeming barely aware of Twilight and the others, their distant gazes locked in the direction of the Everfree forest. For a moment, as they stood there, it seemed as if time itself warped around them. As if they each wore the centuries of their eternal lives upon their shoulders like a cloak. How ancient they seemed in that moment. Beings who had seen the rise and fall of kingdoms, the passing of countless lives, the ages altering everything around them like silt on the bottom of a rushing river, as they watched untouched from the bank. At that moment, they truly did seem as old as Twilight and her friends logically knew they were.

"It is time." Celestia stated, her voice deep and commanding, yet soft and melancholic. Luna simply gave a slow, singular nod, as Derran continued to gaze, with unknowable eyes, in the direction of their destination.

"So it is. . ." He replied, as if the three of them were the only ones there.

Without another word, the trio stepped forward. Saying nothing more to Twilight or their other friends, as if barely able to notice them. They didn't mind, all of them knew that this was a deeply personal moment for the three. Something they had both wished for and dreaded for longer than much of Equestria had even existed. Twilight and her friends couldn't even begin to think how the princesses and Derran must be feeling. As such, they simply fell in line behind them without a word.

Starlight Glimmer, Derpy, the CMC and Spike, appeared in the castle entrance, all wearing expressions of apprehension, as they watched the group leave. They had wanted to come, but Derran had said they were the only creatures he trusted to keep an eye on Ponyville until they returned. As the pony archmage, mailmare, four crusaders, and juvenile dragon, watched the procession depart, they couldn't help but feel, deep in their hearts, that the destiny of Equestria was about to change forever. . .

The journey to the Legion marker was made in utter silence. Celestia, Luna and Derran, leading the way with the somber expressions of somecreature attending a funeral. An aura of melancholy mixed with anticipation surrounded them, silencing any attempt at conversation before it even began. The other ponies present feeling as if disturbing the quiet would be somehow disrespectful. Even the birds and insects grew oddly mute, as the procession passed along the ancient and overgrown trail. Heading to the only physical sign the Legion had ever even existed in Equestria.

Before they knew it, they had arrived, in that strange sunny clearing of grass and wildflowers. The great stone in the center, its craggy surface partially covered in moss and lichen. As before, Celestia and Luna lit their horns and the stone shimmered like an image reflected on a pond. In the manner of a desert mirage, the illusion of the ancient rock vanished. To reveal a great circular stone, carved along the outside with unfamiliar runes, pulsing with a faint blue light. An image of a kneeling knight, with head bowed, dominated the center of the stone, one hand resting upon the hilt of a sword thrust into the ground, while the other rested across his chest, his closed fist over his heart. Above his head, was the ancient spiral teardrop symbol of the two sisters, while below his kneeling form, was inscribed the ancient oath of the Legion. A promise of eternal loyalty, created by love, faith, and devotion.

It had been nearly a year since Twilight and her friends had been here, yet time had done nothing to dull the sense of terrible might exuded by the stone. At first it was frightening, as a feeling of scrutiny by an unknowably powerful force, swept over them. Then, the feeling became warm, yet terribly fierce, as if they were being held in the arms of a zealously protective parent. Indeed, if they closed their eyes, they could almost see the armored limbs wrapped around them, while a phantom head, encased in enchanted steel, scanned their surroundings. Prepared to launch itself at even the slightest threat, with the murderous fury of a mother bear protecting its cubs.

Approaching the stone, Celestia and Luna seemed lost in another world as they stood before it, Derran a short distance behind them. For a time, they simply stared at the stone, not saying a word, as their expressions became ever so slightly pained. A thousand emotions danced through their eyes, each passing too fast for Twilight or the others to single them out. Only for the two ancient princesses' expressions to ultimately morph into sad smiles.

"Hello friends. . ." Celestia's voice cut through the silence with a startling abruptness as she addressed the stone. "Please forgive us for not returning sooner." Her voice was subdued, and filled with a deep sorrow as she spoke. "You must think my sister and I so selfish, coming here only when we need something?" Here Celestia sniffed slightly, wiping away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Indeed my friends. . ." Luna continued, speaking as if reading her sister's thoughts. "Please forgive us. We always intended to come back but. . ." Here Luna trailed off, as Celestia picked up where she had halted.

"It was always so painful. . . and we feared. . . we feared that we might not be able to restrain ourselves." Luna nodded, wiping away her own tears, as Celestia again seemed to become unable to speak.

"We wanted to see you again, so badly did we want to wake you. . . yet we could not dishonor your sacrifice. Whenever we came here, all we could think of was the happy memories of our time together. . . and the living death we condemned you to." Here Luna once more lapsed into silence, as Celestia addressed the stone.

"Even now, with a dire threat upon the horizon and our little ponies in danger. . . a small, selfish part of our hearts, can only feel joy. Finally. . . finally, we can set you free. . ." Here Celestia turned to look at Derran. Giving her a slight nod, he stepped forward, placing his hand upon the carved monolith. His eyes and expression impossible to interpret.

"Brothers. . ." He began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I too must apologize. I. . . I was not supposed to return here. Or at least. . . I did not think I ever would. My mission back to Hell was supposed to be my last. The final act of the Doom Slayer. . . a sacrifice to hold back the dark. Yet. . . somehow, here I stand. Alive and free. While you endure yet further loss, and a death that denies you even the Light's embrace." Here Derran let out a shuddering breath, his tone filled with misery. "I should have come to visit brothers. Yet. . . how was I to explain myself? How could I tell you of the blessings I have been given, when you. . . when you gave up your blessings, in the name of honor and service?" Here Derran shook his head, his tone turning to one of determination.

"But none of that matters now. Evil claws at the door of our home brothers. The moment we always feared has come at last. . ." Here Derran paused, straightening up, his gaze fierce and powerful. "Perhaps, when you awaken. . . I will at last know what to say to you. . ." At that, the air seemed to vibrate, as if in agreement, and understanding. Then, with a final nod Derran stepped aside, as Celestia and Luna once more moved to stand before the stone. . .

As one, they lit their horns. Eyes closed, they murmured strange words beneath their breath. As the light of their magic grew in intensity. Gradually, an aura of swirling midnight blue and shining gold energy, formed around them. Motes of multicolored light sparking about the pair, as their manes and tails billowed in an arcane wind. Nearby, Twilight and her friends heard a faint hum of power, that gradually intensified, as the air seemed to vibrate in sympathy with it. The aura around Celestia and Luna grew ever brighter, as it became a swirling vortex of pure power. Threads of ethereal blue and gold light stretching out from the whirlwind of energy, connecting to the circular tablet around its circumference.

Instantly, a pulse of force erupted from the stone, sending Twilight and the others reeling. The trees around them shaking as if in the midst of a hurricane, the ground trembling and shuddering. As with a sound of grinding stone, the massive circular tablet pulled itself free of the earth. Rising steadily into the air, the runes carved around the marker began to glow brighter, as lines of gold and blue flame traced across the kneeling knight. The glow swiftly became a blinding shine, as the stone sent out another unseen pulse of energy that nearly sent the assembled ponies to the ground.

Only Celestia, Luna, and Derran seemed unaffected, as the air filled with a smell of ozone. Sparks of lightning crawled across the stone, as it began to gracefully tilt in the air, till it was perpendicular with the ground. Hovering nearly ten feet above the earth, the stone slowly began to spin, as rainbow hued fire and arcane electricity flowed across its surface. Flares of mystical power flashed through the air, as the trees surrounding the clearing were lit with a halo of prismatic light. The earth shook with a series of drawn out dolorous booms. As if in time to the beating of a massive heart buried deep within the planet. Yet, despite the wind and the shaking, the princesses and Derran, stood with the solidity of mountains.

In the air, the stone spun faster and faster, rising still higher above the treetops, as an orb of pure crackling kaleidoscopic energy took shape above its engraved surface. Blindingly bright sinuous coils of energy, that seemed a hybrid of fire and lightning, connected the spinning stone to the sphere. Growing larger and larger, the ball was suddenly surrounded by rings of alien symbols made of light, that seemed to expand and contract erratically, as if struggling to contain its immense power. Then, without warning, there was a penultimate thunderclap, as a beam of pure, shining, rainbow colored energy, blasted out from the stone. Thicker than a redwood, and brighter than the sun, the coruscating polychromatic beam streaked higher and higher into the sky. Till at last, it burst like a firework, splitting into ten comets of pure energy, each arching through the sky as they scattered in all directions. . .

One landed in the far north, shaking the Crystal Mountains with its passage and blasting a hole three miles wide through the cloud cover of one of the area's frequent blizzards. Another disappeared into the deserts beyond Las Pegasus, causing countless pony revelers to halt, and stare at the sky in shock. The third hit just outside of Manehatten, freezing the usually unendingly busy citizens in their tracks. A fourth crashed down not to far from Appleoosa, where it was almost entirely missed by groups of ponies and buffalo, frantically trying to halt a massive prairie fire before it destroyed the appleoosan's orchards. The fifth, splashed down off the coast of a small village near Horseshoe Bay, shocking a young filly and her grandfather, and unwittingly delaying the kraken that had been slowly heading toward their small rowboat. The sixth ball of multicolored fire, landed amid the boughs of the Whitetail Woods, where an unwary colt had just stumbled upon a wandering pack of timberwolves. While the seventh rainbow-hued comet, came to rest just beyond the Galloping Gorge, where it was noted by both a traveling jewel merchant and his family, and the pack of diamond dogs that had been tracking them for the last few days. The eighth and ninth streams of fire came down amid the Everfree Forest. As the tenth, rather strangely, vanished over the horizon, as it hurtled in the direction of the badlands. . .

(Soundtrack: To Glory, by Two Steps From Hell)

Contrary to what was expected, there was no impact when the searing comets finally made contact with the ground. No explosion, nor cracking of stone and sundering of earth, indeed, they didn't even make much in the way of sound. Rather, the ground seemed to absorb the energy, like parched soil drinking up rainwater. The only sound was a low-pitched musical chime, as the spell coursed deep into the earth. Moments passed, as all around the impact sights, the world seemed to become incomprehensibly still. . . Then, the ground began to rumble. A sound of cracking stone, snapping roots, and dirt being shoved aside with explosive force, echoing through the air. As, at ten locations across Equestria, chosen centuries ago by some of the most brilliant strategic minds ever produced by the multiverse, hundreds upon hundreds of what seemed to be massive stone coffins, burst from the ground.

They were roughly hewn, each about seven feet tall, five feet wide, and four feet deep. Made of a dark gray rock, the odd stone sarcophagi were unmarked, save for a single glowing symbol in the front, and some writing. Shining an angry red, the symbol looked roughly similar to an oversized lowercase 'T' but with a strange curving flourish crossing it at the bottom. And directly below it, shining with a similarly bloody hue, were written these words:

Only in death, does duty end. . .

For nearly half a minute, the coffins stood there silently, as the rune and strange inscription pulsed with scarlet light. Until, as though receiving some unknown signal, the symbol and words turned a pale electric blue, before going dark. Abruptly, with a sound of grinding stone, the lids of the sarcophagi slowly slid sideways. All across Equestria, there was a faint hum of energy, and a crash, as the lids of over ten thousand ancient burial caskets fell to the ground. Within their shadowed depths, eyes that had been shut since long before Luna had been banished, and whose existence was forgotten before the tyrant Sombra was even born, opened with near perfect synchronicity. A moment later, over ten thousand armored hands, reached for weapons, as Equestria's penultimate defenders, heeded the call to war. . .

Buttermane's breathing was ragged as he galloped through the Whitetail Woods. All he'd wanted was to see if the breeze lilies were in bloom yet. His mom and older sister always said there was nothing like a breeze lily bouquet to liven up a room. He'd just wanted to do something nice for them, and now he was running for his life as a pack of vicious canine wood elementals chased him through the forest! He'd never have come out here if he'd known there were Timberwolves! He didn't even think they lived out here! The only thing he could think of was that they must have left the Everfree forest for some reason and gotten lost. Just his luck that they'd find him of all ponies!

Tripping over a gnarled tree root, Buttermane cried out as he scraped a knee. His eyes tearing up as he forced himself to his hooves in spite of the pain. He had to keep running or he was as good as dead! Behind him, he heard the eerie howling of his pursuers, far closer than he would like. At the same time, the foul smell of their breath filled his nostrils. Buttermane didn't dare look behind him as he sped through the trees. Yet, even as he ran, his thought's racing from fear and adrenaline, he couldn't help but wonder what that strange light in the sky had been. A meteor? But then where was the explosion when it landed? Wild magic? He'd heard magic sometimes did strange things for no reason. If he lived through this maybe he'd ask his friend Glitterleaf, she was a unicorn, maybe she'd know?

In the midst of his panicked thoughts, Buttermane turned his head this way and that, looking for some means of escape. The last thought to go through his head before he tripped again was: "Huh, that's a weird place for a stone box." This fall was far worse then the first one, as Buttermane went tumbling end over end down a hill. He felt a spike of agony in his back hoof as he fell. Letting out a high pitched yelp, that turned into a groan, as he came to rest at the bottom of the incline. Again Buttermane tried to stand, only to fall flat on his face. Tears filling his eyes, as he bit his lip to avoid screaming. Whatever he'd done to his hoof, it could no longer support his weight. And things only got worse, when the timberwolf pack crested the hilltop behind him.

Scrambling backward, Buttermane still did his best to escape, even as tears filled his eyes at how pointless the effort was. He didn't want to die like this! Without telling his mom he loved her, without going camping with his dad one last time, without tasting his big sister's special vegetable soup one more chilly fall day? Grabbing a small loose stone from the path, Buttermane desperately chucked it at the lead timberwolf's head as hard as he could, only for it to bounce off to no visible effect. Narrowing its eyes in anger, the alpha wolf ran forward, leaping into the air with its jaws open wide. Buttermane screamed as he threw up his front hooves. . . Only for a black gauntleted hand to snatch the timberwolf out of midair by its throat. The wolf had only a single second to register surprise, and supreme terror, at the site of the heavily armored bipedal warrior that had halted its attack. Before it was thrown to the ground, to shatter in an explosion of twigs, leaves and bark.

Buttermane's mouth fell open, as with a heavily accented and mechanically distorted roar of "FOR THE SERAPHIM!!" the warrior raised his opposite hand, in which was clenched a leaf bladed spear made of dark metal. The weapon crackling with what Buttermane would have sworn was emerald lightning! No sooner had he sounded his battle cry, then with a volume that shook the very earth and rattled the trees around them, there was a rejoining roar of "FOR EQUESTRIA!!". Spoken by hundreds of voices. The thunderous sound followed immediately by a strange overlapping series of what Buttermane could only describe as 'musical cracking noises'.

The stunned pack of timberwolves, frozen in a combination of fear and shock, were obliterated in a hail of elongated beams of green energy. Their bodies, and large chunks of the forest path, detonating in flashes of light! The beams burning small holes in the wooden canines, before instantly reducing them to sawdust and ashes, with blasts of explosive force from within their torsos and heads. Some of the beams even burned straight through them without stopping, and Buttermane just barely had time to register tiny, glowing tunnels of molten rock bored into the ground, before the earth fountained into the air, sending stone, dirt, and what was left of the the wolves themselves, flying in all directions.

Meanwhile, the warrior whom had saved Buttermane had fallen into a crouch in front of him, his spear held sideways before them. Two gems in the haft flaring with light, as a curved plane of green energy was projected from them. Shielding Buttermane and the warrior, both from further attack, and from any shrapnel created by his comrade's weapons. The young colt was only able to stare in absolute awe, as hundreds of warriors in dark brown and black armor, marked with strange pictographs, and with helmets that vaguely reminded Buttermane of a cat, stepped out from the trees. Wooden beads and small charms hung from their wrists and neck, all depicting the sun, the moon, or some variety of animal. They wielded elongated, box-like weapons, some with ethereal blue smoke still flowing from the ends. Holding them across their chests in the manner of professional soldiers. As he stared, Buttermane instantly forgot the danger he had been in, the strange light in the sky, and just about everything else. His heart nearly stopping in his chest, as he suddenly realized, whom these strange beings looked almost identical too. . .

Grell was having a very good day, as he growled menacingly at the pony merchant and his cowering family. He and his diamond dog pack had been tracking the gem dealer and his small caravan for nearly three days, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Diverting them from their original rout and into the Galloping Gorge had been a stroke of genius on Grell's part. No matter that Stinkfang had been the one to come up with the idea. After all, without Grell's leadership as alpha, he never would have had the idea to begin with. Thus, Grell reasoned, he alone deserved credit.

It was also only thanks to Grell's leadership, that they had thought to use that strange multicolored sky streak's appearance to distract the ponies during the ambush. Now the two wagons were completely surrounded by spear wielding, armored diamond dog warriors. Grell had found it highly amusing when the ponies looks of wonder at the sky-fire, had turned to terror when they saw Grell and his pack.

More to the point, there was no sign of the 'Doomguy', as that weakling Snotsnout and his pack called him. Grell had briefly run into Snotsnout during a meeting of the various diamond dog packs. He and his group had, until recently, operated a mine just outside of one of the pony's towns. Pickings had been good there, until nearly a year ago, when they had come to the Packmeet, wild eyed and with their tails between their legs. They had said it wasn't safe to operate in Equestria anymore, because of Doomguy. Snotsnout said he and his pack were leaving Equestria for good, and that any smart diamond dog packs, should do the same. Saying Doomguy would come otherwise, and kill anycreature that hurt ponies. Grell of course, had just laughed.

Equestria was the best place this side of the wastes to find gems and jewels. Not to mention ponies were easily intimidated into giving up riches, or serving as slaves. Ponies were kind, and therefore weak, not tough and clever like diamond dogs. Just look at how this gem dealer cowered from him and his pack, they were. . . Grell's train of thought paused, as he suddenly noticed, the mare, stallion and colt hitched/on the first cart, and the two mares hitched/on the second, weren't looking at him, but rather, behind him. Their eyes wide in a mix of awe and fear, as their mouths hung open.

Suddenly, Grell felt a chill run up his spine, as if the reaper itself had whispered in his ear. His ears pricked, as a ghostly wind blew through the rocks of the canyon. The diamond dog alpha's survival instincts suddenly started screaming at him to run, yet his legs wouldn't move, no matter how hard he tried. Grell's ears flattened against his head, his tail between his legs, his heart hammering in his chest, as a shadow fell across him from behind. And a voice like none Grell had ever heard, spoke. . .

"Cover the eyes of the young one, this is not that which the seraphim's youngest children should see." The voice was deep and ageless, yet for all its seeming calm, there was a terrible fury hidden just beyond its surface. The last thing Grell ever saw in the realm of mortal life, was the mare sitting on the cart in front of him, covering her son's eyes with her hooves. Before an armored hand grabbed Grell's skull from behind. Crushing it, and the brain within, into mangled pulp, before hurling the body it was attached to, forty feet up and over the lip of the gorge.

Had Grell survived, he might have wondered in horror at his entire pack, somehow falling dead to the ground without uttering a sound, and seemingly without a scratch on them. He might have stared in terror, as hundreds of bipeds, encased in armor of green and brown, and covered in combat webbing, appeared atop the canyon wall. Charms of leather, dyed feathers, and colored beads adorning them, as helms, whose tar black visors seemed to encompass their entire front, looked up from long, glowing rune covered rifles, pointed at the corpses of his former pack. As it stood, it was only the ponies whom could stare in wonder, as their rescuers moved toward them, silent as ghosts. . .

Fair Winds struggled to fight off his terror, as a massive, sucker covered tentacle, smashed down just inches from the side of the rowboat he and his grandfoal were seated in, nearly capsizing it. After a lifetime spent on the sea as a trader, Fair Winds knew a Kraken when he saw one. The massive creatures rarely came this close to shore, preferring the deep waters of the open ocean. However, every once in a great while, one would come to the coast seeking prey. And unfortunately, it seemed Horseshoe Bay was now host to such a specimen.

Fair Winds struggled with the oars, trying to remain calm, as his grandfoal, Gentle Waters, looked up at him with panic in her eyes. Glancing down at her, Fair Winds forced a reassuring smile to his wrinkled and bearded muzzle, as around them, the water churned and frothed. The Kraken was big, a massive creature at least sixty feet long, not including its twelve tentacles, the longest of which was nearly eighty feet. Resembling a nautilus in general shape, the creature's green and blue striped armored shell, was covered in wicked looking barbs and spikes.

Just beneath the surface, Fair Winds caught sight of an eye, larger than the rowboat he and Gentle were in, glaring at them with a terrible hunger. In his head, Fair Winds considered their options. They were too far from shore for swimming to be possible, even if they weren't trying to outpace a creature capable of doing thirty knots in the open sea, or over a hundred if it used its siphon. Rescue was on the way from the shore, but even if it arrived in time, nopony in the bay had the tools or magic to fight this thing off, and trying to row away was a fool's gambit. Honestly, the only reason the monster hadn't killed them already, was that it was likely still disoriented from that rainbow meteor, or whatever it was, that had struck the center of the bay. No sooner had that thought entered Fair Wind's head, than the kraken let out a keening roar that vibrated his very bones. Grabbing onto Gentle Waters, he closed his eyes to await the end. . . but the end, never came.

Another roar was heard, as the boat rocked dangerously, but this one sounded different, it sounded. . . pained? Opening his eyes, Fair Winds saw the kraken lashing the surface with its tentacles in a mad panic, as beneath the water around it, flashes of brilliant blue light lit up the waves, and muted sounds, not that dissimilar to blasts of unicorn magic, if they were amplified a few dozen times, filtered up from the depths. A monstrous shriek of agony was heard, as the water was stained the bluish green color of kraken blood. Tentacles the thickness of trees, and with the strength to overpower full grown whales and sharks, flailed helplessly. As out of nowhere, bars of blazing blue light, that Fair Winds could have sworn looked like swords, appeared beneath the roiling sea. Before, guided by something Fair Winds couldn't quite make out, being stabbed into the kraken's submerged form.

For just an instant, the great beast's eye once again met Fair Winds. This time, instead of hunger, all Fair Winds could see, was the primal fear of a creature that knew it was about to die. However, he only saw it for a moment, as with a final screech of terror and agony, the Kraken was yanked below the waves, the thick clouds of its blood obscuring any view of what could do such a thing to so mighty an apex predator of the sea.

For nearly a minute, Fair Winds simply hugged Gentle Waters to him, trembling, too afraid even to move. At first, the water had vibrated where the kraken had been, the sea around the boat frothing with bubbles, and the occasional tentacle tip breaking the surface. Then, there was only stillness, as the two ponies stared at the patch of ocean, where some unimaginable force, had pulled the great beast to its final, watery grave. Fair Winds couldn't think of any being capable of such a feat. No. . . no that wasn't quite true. There was one being he could think of, but it couldn't possibly be him, could it? However, he didn't have time to contemplate the idea for long, as with a series of clunks, something made contact with the underside of the boat, and it began to move.

At a gentle, yet brisk pace, the rowboat containing Fair Winds and his grandfoal, moved in a perfectly straight line toward the shore. Pulled along by something that had just killed a true monster of the waves, in the space of under a minute. Still shaking with barely controlled fear, Fair winds leaned over the side of the boat as far as he dared. Only to feel a mix of dread and hope, at what he saw. Just beneath the water were hundreds of sets, of what the old stallion could only think of as 'glowing eyes'. Illuminated by a cold blue light, whatever the eyes belonged to, seemed to be swimming in formation, not unlike a school of fish. A moment later, they cleared the cloud of kraken blood, and Fair Winds own eyes, became as wide as saucers.

Guiding his ship toward a stretch of sandy beach, were a team of sedately swimming bipeds, in dark blue and grey armor. Helms that looked a bit like the prows of ships with eyes, cut through the water, as the bipeds slid through the depths in a way that implied some form of magic was at work. The ones not guiding the boat, held sleek looking firearms out in front of them, heads turning slowly from side to side as they swam, apparently scanning for any additional threats.

As they finally arrived at the shore, to a waiting crowd of awestruck ponies, the rowboat was smoothly lifted out of the water entirely. Born up the shore on the shoulders of no less than six, bipedal warriors. Around them, hundreds of others rose from the waves, their weapons switching from held at the ready to at ease across their chest, with a clockwork discipline. As they gently set the boat down above the high tide mark, Fair Winds noted that, to a stallion, these beings each wore a brilliant scarlet sash embroidered with gold thread, proudly across their chests. Stunned into speechlessness, Fair Winds almost didn't register it, when one of the armored figures spoke to him. In a voice, that for all it was distorted into a mechanical growl, managed to sound prim, proper, and kind.

"Quite the sticky wicket you were in there friend. Are you and the young miss quite alright?"

"KEEP THOSE BUCKETS COMING!!" Braeburn shouted, as he took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow with a hoof. Glancing back at the orchard, he tried not to despair, as the flames began to lick at the trunks of the first row of apple trees. Appleoosa was no stranger to the occasional prairie fire, heck they even somewhat relied on them to replenish some of their fields further out, letting them burn when they lay fallow. This however, was different.

Despite strict control over the weather by the pegusus ponies, somepony had slacked off when it came to monitoring the surrounding brush for overgrowth. As a result, this fire had far more fuel to burn than normal, and it had swiftly spiraled out of control. Even the timely arrival of Chief Thunderhooves and his buffalo warriors, had only stemmed the tide of flames for a short period, and now it seemed likely that the entire harvest was going to be burnt to a crisp.

Worse yet however, was that the winds were shifting, and soon would direct the flames toward the town. The pegusus were scrambling to redirect the winds and gather some storm clouds, but that still took time. Time the town of Appleoosa didn't have. Ponies and buffalo strained under skies black with smoke, their coats and manes turned grey with ash. Bucket brigades of earth ponies and buffalo warriors sweated and toiled ceaselessly, as unicorns cut firebreaks with their magic, and pegusai flew overhead trying to wrangle what clouds they could together. But it was painfully obvious at a glance, that the flames were winning.

"I fear we may need to sacrifice your orchard." A deep, rumbling voice, tinged with sympathy, stated. Looking up, Braeburn was met with the sight of the towering figure of Chief Thunderhooves. His shaggy coat singed, and dusted liberally with ash. "The flames are moving too fast, it is becoming difficult to stay ahead of them." Braeburn clenched his jaw, wanting to argue, but knowing the chief was right. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he nodded.

"Ah know. . . pull everycreature back to the town, if'n we're lucky we won't lose-." Braeburn was cut off by a series of panicked cries for help. With eyes wide and full of dread, he and Chief Thunderhooves turned to look out at the fire. Their worst fears were soon confirmed. Several ponies and buffalo had been surrounded by the flames, and cut off from escape. Undoubtably, they had been trying so hard to hold back the conflagration, that they failed to notice when the sparks had set the brush to their rear alight. Worse yet, the flames had picked up speed, so any attempt to help them would only result in even more ponies getting trapped.

"By the ancestors! We have to do something!" Thunderhooves exclaimed, his tone one of desperation, all too aware of how limited their options likely were. Braeburn racked his brain for an idea, only to come up empty. A sickening feeling overtook him, as he stared into the faces of the distant ponies and buffalo, and he realized there was no way to save them. Then he noticed the buffalo speaking to the ponies, before appearing to square off against the flames. Looking at the chief in confusion, Braeburn felt positively ill at the horrified expression on Thunderhooves face. "They are going to attempt a breakout!" He exclaimed. Braeburn already knew the answer from Thunderhooves tone, but couldn't help but ask.

"Could that work?" The chieftain chewed on his lower lip.

"It. . . might. However the distance is likely too much. Even if they don't get overcome by the heat or smoke, and assuming my warriors bulk is able to create a big enough wake through the flames. . ." The chief trailed off as he considered the odds against the group. "If we are extraordinarily fortunate, two or three might make it." Braeburn felt like he was going to throw up, as he stared at the group of thirteen preparing for what was likely a suicidal charge, through nearly two hundred plus feet of fiercely burning orchard. However, just as the buffalo were about to move, a sound reverberated through the air. A deep, humming drone, that rose and fell in an eerie tempo.

"Is that. . . chanting?" Braeburn asked in confusion. Thunderhooves however, just stood in mute silence as he pointed with a hoof to a hill overlooking the orchard. Even through the flames and smoke, hundreds of figures walked forward on two legs. Dressed in armor of burnished gold, and blue-black steel, over which robes of turquoise fluttered in the breeze. Glowing hieroglyphics, ankhs, and charms, covered their armor and robes. As helms in the shapes of fierce birds of prey, oxen, cats and insects, stared down at the ponies with balefully glowing green eye lenses. Each wielded an ornate staff in one hand, while clamped to their armored thighs, were either pistols or compact assault weapons.

At the group's head stood a figure shorter than most of the others, his helm alone displaying human features, in a grim golden deathmask, framed by a metal nemes headcloth in gold and turquois. Raising his staff, an object of black steel, etched with golden runes and topped by a ring around which nine other smaller rings hung, the weapon's head flared with green and blue mystic fire. Instantly, the movement of the flames consuming the orchard, halted.

For a moment, the fires seemed to flicker strangely, as if the breeze no longer commanded them, before, in defiance of the wind, they began to be drawn towards the figure. Streams of fire and smoke stretched out impossibly towards the armored being, as he held up his unoccupied hand. Like water circling a drain, the flames and ash seemed pulled inexorably into his palm, where they coalesced into a small, brightly glowing sphere of orange, red and black. As the ponies and buffalo stared in shock, every last cinder was mystically compelled into the warrior's outstretched gauntlet. The scorched earth and smoldering trees extinguished and cooling in an instant, as the heat was sucked away in its entirety. Only once the last flicker of the fire had been absorbed, did the figure glance down at the orb in his hand. Before, with a contemptuous finality, crushing it, in a puff of sparks.

It was then, that Braeburn and Chief Thunderhooves saw the glowing banners, with pennants of what seemed to be solid light, held aloft by warriors with helms like the heads of jackals. Two symbols were displayed on the shimmering flags, one atop the other. On the lower half, was a stylized snake of brilliant blue, shown curled into a circle. Its mouth wide as it devoured its own tail, an ouroboros, the ancient mystic symbol of eternity. However, atop it, in pride of place, glittered the swirling teardrop of night and day, the symbol of the two sister princesses of Equestria. Celestia and Luna each depicted with loving care, along the outside of the emblem, chasing each other with the sun and moon below their heads. As the armored warriors gazed down at the pony and buffalo, they, and their fellows, could only stare back, paralyzed with wonder. . .

All across Equestria ponies watched in awe, as a myth forgotten twelve hundred years ago, became a reality once more. Ponies on the outskirts of Manehatten stared in slack jawed incredulity, as hundreds of armored humans in tight ranks, marched toward their city. With black armor festooned with knives, ammo, and other assorted kit, and helms like high-tech gas masks. With perfect discipline, their boots struck the ground in near flawless unison as they marched. Invoking dread as much as amazement, as they moved forward. Weapons slung over shoulders, and black tinted visored eyes fixed unflinchingly on the city. Banners of allegiance to the princesses held proudly aloft.

Las Pegasus, for the first time since its founding, stood frozen. Guests and revelers unable to move as they stared out at the dunes of the desert beyond the city. There, rank after rank of armored figures emerged from a swirling curtain of sand kicked up by their marching feet. Covered in armor like polished brass, marked with strange scrollwork, countless coins of polished silver hung from leather belts and finely wrought chains across their bodies. Visors like oval mirrors were affixed to helms who's pointed tops resembled an upside down onion, while glittering scimitars and pistols hung from leather belts. Reflecting the sun, the warriors were blinding to look upon, their various ornaments making a sound like windchimes, as they advanced on the silent city. . .

Looking out from the tallest tower of her castle, it was Princess Cadance whom first saw them. In armor of slate gray and stark white, they emerged from the mountains like icy revenants. The snow seeming to part before them like a drawn back curtain. Helms evoking the faces of shouting, bearded warriors, with glowing ice blue eyes, protected their features from the cold. Save for their leader, a figure swathed in a great fur cape, that fluttered behind them, who's helm was molded into the features of a snarling wolf. Runes, glowing with an eerie blue radiance, covered the various warriors armor, along with skulls of slain beasts and necklaces and bracelets made of teeth and fangs. Holding rifles and axes, the warriors cut through the wind and frost at a swift jog, a cloud of snow and ice obscuring them from the waist down. Cadence, Shining Armor, and a smiling Flurry Heart watched for a moment more, as the warriors powered toward the border of their city. Before turning and heading for the stairs, determined that they would be the first to greet their long lost saviors. . .

Twilight stood in awe, as the beam of energy emitted by the floating stone finally cut out. With its purpose at last fulfilled, the stone rotated, as it floated back down to earth, slotting itself into its previous location with a soft thud. Celestia and Luna stepped back, exhaustion writ large upon their features. Turning, they looked out at the forest with a tired but serene expression. Derran oddly, simply stood next to them, facing the opposite direction as he continued to stare at the stone. Twilight and the others however, looked at the princesses with questioning expressions.

"Did. . . did it work?" Rainbow asked, sounding slightly confused. Celestia and Luna just smiled,

"See for yourself." Celestia declared softly, a tear in her eye, as she gestured behind them with her hoof.

It was then, that Twilight and the others felt it. A sensation like electricity dancing across their fur and feathers, as a scent of incense and spices filled the air. A presence filled the atmosphere, fearsome, yet controlled, as a sound of shifting metal and breaking branches was heard. Pivoting on their rear hoofs, the six members of the friendship council slowly turned. Only to feel the breath catch in their throats. . .

Moving through the trees, came two separate columns of warriors. The first, in extremally heavy looking gold and silver armor, marched forward in perfect lockstep. T-visored helms, ornamented with crests of white bristles, that shifted prismatically in the sunlight, stared fixedly at the unseen horizon. Each metallic boot crashing down at exactly the same moment as every other pair in the line as they marched. Guns of gold chased in silver, were held across chests at a precise forty five degree angle, the position not wavering for so much as a moment, even as they crashed through the underbrush. At their head, was a figure in armor of stunningly beautiful make. Designed with a helm modeled to look like a sun with human features, its eyes glowing opalescent lenses. Every piece of his golden armor was polished to a perfect mirror finish, and etched with the design of flames in silver. And finally, on his breastplate, in pride of place, was Celestia's cutie mark.

The second column, was made up of warriors in armor of black and extremally dark blue, edged with mother of pearl. Made of overlapping plates, they reminded Twilight of designs from ancient Nieghpone to the far east. Especially when she saw the helmet visors, made to resemble snarling monsters with eyes of glowing mother of pearl. All the midnight clad warriors were nearly identical, or so Twilight and the others thought, until hundreds more appeared seemingly out of nowhere. These warriors had a much lighter design of armor, clearly made for ease of movement, and unlike their counterparts who carried assault rifles, pistols, and swords, they carried pistols, daggers, and bows made of oily black metal across their backs. At their head, stood a warrior with two swords slung from his belt, and who's helm was ornamented by a large crescent moon of gold. To a one, each of the black armored warriors had Luna's cutie mark emblazoned across their breastplates.

Closing to within twenty feet of Twilight and the others, both columns of soldiers abruptly halted. Gazing upon the ponies before them, they stood like statues. Then, finally, as one, hundreds of weapons were maglocked to belts or armored thighs, as hundreds of sets of hands, reached up to take hold of helmets. The cracks and hisses of pressure seals breaking, echoing through the silent forest.

As Twilight and her friends finally saw the faces beneath, they almost gasped. For despite the power of their presence, the might of their weaponry, and the beauty of their armor, all that lay beneath, were the faces of ordinary humans. Faces that gazed at the ponies with absolute love and devotion, as they fell to one knee. Fists of the right hand clasped over hearts, as they bowed their heads in fealty.

As Twilight and her friends stared, the warrior with the sun helm and the one with the two swords, raised their heads to look to Celestia and Luna. The one with the sun helm had a full dark beard and mustache, coal black hair, and a tanned complexion. His dark green eyes had a hardened quality to them, his expression grim, and with a frightening intensity. The man with the two swords and golden crescent helm's face, could not have been more the opposite. His topknotted frizzy black hair and wild sideburns, framed a face that was all smiles. His brown eyes filled with a good humor, that almost made you miss the innate cunning lying deeper in his gaze. His beard and mustache were short and messy, yet all that did was seem to make him more personable.

"Your divine majesties, it is our most supreme honor to kneel in your presence once again!" The warrior with the golden armor and sun helmet stated, his ornate headgear now maglocked to his belt. His voice had a booming quality, and an accent that Twilight couldn't place. The warrior with two swords just rolled his eyes slightly, the grin never leaving his face.

"Good to see you again boss ladies. Hope we didn't keep you waiting." He remarked with a grin, his voice containing only the barest trace of a Neighponese sounding accent. The golden warrior instantly turned to glare at his companion.

"Mind your tone brother Yamato! That is not how one properly greets divinity! You could at least address them as 'Lady'!" The dark armored one, 'Yamato', just shrugged.

"Nice to see you too Leo, still got that stick up your ass I see." Yamato declared, his tone teasing. The golden warrior, for just a moment, was struck speechless, his face going through several fascinating contortions before settling on sharp disapproval.

"How a disrespectful lout like you was chosen to serve Lady Luna I will never-."

"Leonidas. . ." Celestia called out, her tone seeming oddly fragile.

"Musashi. . ." Luna whispered.

Instantly, the two warriors turned back to the princesses, just in time to brace themselves, as the pair of weeping alicorns crashed into them, hugging them tight. The golden armored warrior, Leonidas, seemed momentarily uncertain how to respond. Stiffening for a moment, before returning Celestia's hug with a degree of awkwardness, his grim expression easing just a hair. Musashi however, accepted the hug easily, his face sympathetic as he patted Luna's mane.

"Hey there Tsuki Hime." He whispered, gently holding the lunar princess. "Its ok, my handsome mug ain't going anywhere." Luna just held him tighter.

"I missed you so much!" She cried out. "All of you!" Musashi just chuckled, as he motioned to the kneeling soldiers behind him with one hand.

"Bring it in brothers, our boss lady needs a hug!" The soldiers, many unable to keep the smile off their faces, surged forward to surround Luna in a surprisingly gentle cocoon of armor and warm smiles. Those unable to reach her directly through the press of their brethren, simply laying a hand on the shoulder of the warrior in front of them. Creating a chain of solidarity to comfort their crying goddess.

Leonidas however, still seemed unable to determine how to deal with the clearly unexpected display of affection from his goddess/commander. Fortunately, Celestia felt no need to wait on his order, as she released him, before running past him to greet his still kneeling comrades.

"Parthys! Lucius! Tarquitius! Kratos! Oh how I missed you all!" Celestia went on and on down the line, reciting each name as she gave out a warm hug to its owner. Leonidas at first looking bewildered, before his expression softened into one of pure, if restrained, joy. Meanwhile, Luna was no less busy, as she too put names to faces she had not seen in over twelve hundred years.

"Takahashi! Tanaka! Ito! Raiden! My dear lost friends! You're all here!" Musashi just laughed.

"Course they are! You know the Lunar Guard would never leave our boss lady hanging."

The greetings might have gone on forever, had it not been for Leonidas turning to glance at the other ponies present. Arching an eyebrow, he briefly wondered why their ladyships had brought them along. They didn't look like retainers or nobility, and they certainly weren't bodyguards. They consisted of a prim unicorn, a flustered looking pegasus, a leather hat wearing orange earth pony, a rainbow maned pegasus, a frizzy haired pink earth pony, and. . .

"By the Light's benevolent majesty!" Leonidas exclaimed, as he immediately fell once more to his knee. Horrified at his breech of protocol, and lack of observation. "A thousand pardons your divine grace!" He declared, bowing his head. "Had I known another of the Light's holy children was in attendance, I would have greeted you properly!" The purple Seraphim looked briefly stunned, before letting out a long suffering sigh.

"Oh sweet Celestia there's another one." She muttered under her breath. However before she could say more, Leonidas raised his head. Only to freeze, as he finally took note of the solitary human, standing with his back to them. He had long black hair, that cascaded over his shoulders like a waterfall. Wearing a black suit and leather dress shoes, he stood with hands clasped behind his back. An aura of power radiated out from him, reenforced by a body trained to olympian perfection, and then pushed beyond by sacred sorcery. He stood silent, immovable, eternal, a representation of unconquerable strength. Leonidas did not need to ask, to know whom stood before him.

"My Lord!" The words came out as barely a whisper, yet instantly, the forest was struck dead silent. Musashi rose, his warriors dispersing around him and Luna, as he stared in undisguised shock.

"It can't be. . ." Musashi breathed out, before he could stop himself. For a time there was silence, as the Legion warriors tried to decide for themselves if their eyes were telling the truth. Slowly, the figure turned to regard them, eyes like chips of arctic ice, piercing their very souls with its gaze. As a voice as familiar and powerful as it was commanding, spoke.

"Brothers. . . it is good to see you again. I only wish it were under better circumstances." Instantly, all mirth left Musashi's face, as he and every other Legion soldier present, placed their fists over their hearts in salute. Yet he was unable to keep from speaking further, the sheer impossibility of what he beheld forcing the words from his mouth.

"How?! How did you come back?!" He asked, his voice tinged with a reverent awe. Just as Derran opened his mouth to reply, a new voice answered the question for him.

"Obviously brother, the Light has decided that our Lord's service to its holy children, is yet needed." This voice, was soft, melodious, and gentle as a spring rain. Its tone seeming to instantly relax the minds and bodies of all who heard it. Now, it was Derran's turn to register shock, as he turned to look at the speaker.

Long, flowing, platinum blond hair, bordered a face with an impossibly gentle expression. Eyes of piercing green were set amid delicate features, that made the man more 'beautiful' than traditionally handsome. Even encased in armor, he moved through his brothers with an easy grace. And what armor it was. Plates of white trimmed in black, save for the greaves, vambraces, and shoulder plates. Half of which were enchanted to look like Luna's mane. A deep midnight blue, within which could be seen the sparkle of countless stars, trimmed in gold filigree shaped like flames.

The other half resembled Celestia's mane, a constantly shifting range of muted prismatic color, trimmed in filigree of obsidian black, made to look like swirling mist. The breastplate displaying the ancient interlocking teardrop symbol of the two sister alicorns, in gold, onyx, silver, and opal. And over it all, he wore a robe of half white and half midnight blue. Luna and Celestia's cutie marks sewn onto each breast. While from each gauntleted wrist, were jeweled charms of the same shape, hanging from delicate chains of gold and onyx. And maglocked at his side, was his helmet. A mask of gold, shaped to look like a stern human face, and engraved into each cheek, were Luna and Celestia's cutie marks, depicted in onyx and silver. While on the forehead, was once again the interlocking teardrop symbol of the two sisters, in mother of pearl and ebony. Moving toward Celestia and Luna, he gave each a deep bow. Hands clasped together in front of him as he bent forward at the waist. Taking note of Twilight, he gave her a warm smile, walking closer, before bowing to her as well. Then, standing at the head of the army of his brothers, he offered a serene smile to Derran. His eyes showing a respect and joy, that implied these two were far closer than merely comrades in arms.

"Michael. . ." Derran stated, his whispered tone implying he had seen a ghost. Walking forward, and looking at the uniquely armored warrior with a thousand yard stare. As the pair stood before one another, Twilight was struck by how, with their hair color and appearance, the two seemed almost perfect opposites of one another. Light and dark, looking upon each other with a respect and fondness born of a long and lasting friendship.

"I take it from your expression, that it has been some time?" Michael asked, his voice soft and his expression sympathetic. Derran, finally seeming to regain control of some of his faculties, simply nodded.

"It has brother." He replied, his voice thick with emotion, as the two clasped forearms in a warriors handshake. That Derran used, to pull his brother into a hug. Tears in his eyes, as he continued. "It has been far too long. . ."

Deep in the wastes, a scorpion hid beneath a rock, a rattlesnake vanished down a hole, and even a tatzelwurm, after poking its head above ground, burrowed into the earth deep enough to hit bedrock. The sounds of hundreds of booted feet, marching double-time, echoed through the parched desert. Overhead, a vulture squawked loudly, before flying toward the horizon as fast as it could, as terror, stalked the land beneath.

The appearance of the bipeds stalking through the desiccated wastes, was beyond description. Hideous figures, of clawed limbs, razor sharp teeth and misshapen bodies, with skin of a metallic sheen. Their glowing red eyes never wavering from the path that led toward their goal. No living thing dared go near them, a terrible aura of power radiating out from them, chilling even the burning air of the wastes.

They spoke not a word as they reached the Equestrian border. Where abruptly, the thousand or so individuals split into nine groups, each heading in a different direction. Then, as they crossed into the holy land, their bodies shimmered, as if an image in a disturbed pond. When the shimmer subsided, the nine groups of just over one hundred ten individuals each, were suddenly clad in nine different styles of magetech armor.

As the nine columns of bipeds separated in accordance with their ancient orders, only one thing survived their strange transformation, from twisted monstrosities into armored warriors. Around each of their necks, held in place by a thong of leather, were two metal pendants. One, showed the interlocking sun and moon of the two sisters, while the other, showed the rune of the Doom Slayer. And on the back of the second coin shaped pendent, was written a singular vow, one the beings wearing them bore with as much sorrow, as pride. It read:

No rest.
No mercy.
No matter what. . .

The Calm Before

"On the eve of war, offer compassion. It will not save you from damnation, but it may at least allow you to face it."

-Unknown D'nurian General.

In the depths of one of the most secure locations of Equestria, a swirling ring of golden energy resolved itself. In the cages nearby, a variety of imprisoned beasts shuffled nervously. It was oddly early in the day for the portal to have appeared. Normally the one it preceded preferred to arrive later in the afternoon, or early evening. Likely because he always seemed to detest being here, and preferred to delay it for as long as possible. Yet here he was arriving at noon, and. . . the various imprisoned creatures stared. This was. . . different.

Stepping through the portal into Tartarus, Derran Grandel took a deep breath. Ignoring the stares of the various incarcerated monsters around him, he walked briskly forward. Said creatures were further surprised, when the infamous warrior didn't even bother with his customary intimidating glare. As he strode past them and into the maximum security chamber without so much as a backward glance. And all that would have been strange enough, without the picnic basket in his hand and the guitar slung over his shoulder. Glancing at each other through the bars of their cages, the prisoners all wondered the same thing: why did the Doom Slayer look like he was dressed for a date?

Chrysalis sighed, as she counted the cracks in the cavern ceiling for the three hundred thirty eighth time that day. Bored out of her skull, but too proud to admit it. She did have a few books laying around in her cell for entertainment, mostly romance and action novels. But they had been provided by Celestia, and she'd hurl herself into the abyss before she'd accept charity from one of her most hated nemeses. So Chrysalis contented herself with finding her own entertainment. Mostly counting things and fantasizing about what she and Derran would do together once she had convinced him to become her king. Mostly it boiled down to conquest and uninhibited sex, but there was a lot of variation available for those two themes.

Turned away from the entrance to the chamber, Chrysalis's ears pricked as she heard the click of footsteps on stone. She had to admit to being a bit surprised, normally Derran didn't come by till later in the day. Then again, not being able to see the sky had a habit of messing with one's perception of time, so maybe it was later than she thought. However, as she turned with a gentle, by her standards anyway, smile on her face, Chrysalis did a double take.

Derran, whom usually dressed quite formally, looked oddly casual. Wearing a dark gray T-shirt over which he'd thrown a, currently unbuttoned, blue and white plaid button up long sleeve shirt. On his legs he wore a pair of faded blue jeans with a brown leather belt, and brown leather work boots. However, what stuck out most to Chrysalis, was the guitar slung over his shoulder, and the picnic basket in one hand. Arching an eyebrow, Chrysalis immediately became suspicious. Something was going on.

"What in the wastes are you wearing?" She asked before she could stop herself. Derran simply smiled.

"You don't like it? I had thought it would be nice to be a bit less. . . official with this visit." Chrysalis instantly felt herself tense. Derran never smiled at her, and he certainly had never spoken to her like she was an old friend. Had he been brainwashed? Was he setting her up to finally kill her? Was he drugged?!

"You seem. . . oddly chipper. And what, may I ask, are those?" She asked, gesturing with a hoof at the picnic basket and guitar. Derran just continued to smile.

"I thought we could have a proper meal together? Maybe enjoy a bit of music?" Chrysalis stared at Derran with a nonplussed expression for a moment, before narrowing her eyes and jumping into a combat stance.

"You're planning to kill me aren't you?! Celestia has finally had enough of toying with me and has decided to do away with me for good!! Admit it! That's why you're pretending you don't hate me! This is my last meal!!" She snarled, bracing herself for what would no doubt be a very short, and ultimately futile fight. Derran rolled his eyes as he let out a sigh.

"No Chrysalis, I have not come here to cause you harm. As I stated, I wish to share a meal with you, and maybe play you a song or two. I have no intention of killing you." Chrysalis continued to glare at Derran for a few seconds before speaking, her tone low and uncertain.

"If I recall correctly. . . you never break a promise once given. . . That you take pride in your word being as inviolable as you yourself are." Chrysalis's tone sounded demanding, but buried within was a barely noticeable hint of desperation. "So swear it to me. Swear to me on the lives of your precious princesses that I'm not going to die here!" Derran let out a sigh before giving a nod. Putting aside the basket and guitar, he fell to one knee. Placing his right fist over his heart, he bowed his head as he spoke in a low, formal tone.

"On the lives of the Seraphim, in the name of the holy Light, and by my honor as a warrior. I hereby swear not to do you harm, nor allow harm to come to you, for as long as you do not seek to bring harm upon me or that which I protect. This I vow, with the Light as my witness, amen." Chrysalis was good at spotting liars, it came with the territory of being who she was. So when she saw Derran raise his head, she was shocked to see not even the slightest hint of deception in his gaze. He had meant every word he had just said. More than that, Chrysalis was left with the distinct impression that he would die to keep the promise he just made. For somepony who was used to never being able to fully trust anycreature, this level of honesty was almost frightening.

"Well. . . very well then." Chrysalis stated, relaxing slightly. "So if you aren't here to kill me, what is the meaning of all this? I doubt you've suddenly decided to accept my offer and betray your beloved 'Seraphim' or whatever you call those pathetic simpering fools." She declared haughtily. Derran's expression was neutral, though inwardly he did tense slightly at the insult to his ladies.

"No. There is no force in existence that could ever convince me to betray the Seraphim, or the Holy Land." He stated firmly, before suddenly softening his gaze. "Let us call this. . . an offer of enlightenment in exchange for closure." Chrysalis arched an eyebrow at that, but made no comment. "At any rate, may I come in?" Derran asked, gesturing at the invisible border of the cell with a gentle grin on his face. Chrysalis just scoffed.

"It isn't as if I could stop you. Why even bother asking?" Derran chuckled in response.

"I find it never hurts to be polite. Besides, contrary to what you might think, I would leave if you truly did not want me here. I simply figured you might like at least one interaction between us that wasn't clouded by ill will. Was I mistaken?" Chrysalis didn't respond at first, seeming to digest Derran's words.

"You may enter. If only because I'm still curious as to what this is all about." Derran nodded, picking up the guitar and picnic basket, he gave a smirk as he whispered the passphrase for the cell, and walked through the unseen barrier that made up Chrysalis's prison.

"And because this is likely your last best chance to persuade me to pick you over Twilight, Luna and Celestia, correct?" Chrysalis's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"I both love and hate how perceptive you are." She declared flatly. Derran shrugged.

"I was trained as a politician till I was in my late teens, and spent over twelve hundred years fighting against the species that perfected the art of the Faustian Bargain. Discerning the ulterior motives of others is practically second nature to me." He explained as he took out a red and white checkered blanket and spread it over the stone floor of the cell, placing the picnic basket and guitar off to the side. Taking a seat on the blanket, Chrysalis was surprised at how it felt like she was sitting on an especially soft cushion, likely due to some minor enchantment.

"You are aware I don't eat pony food?" She asked, trying to disguise how much she was enjoying the blanket. Derran merely smirked.

"'Do not' is not the same as 'can not'. I doubt you will keel over from ingesting a honeysuckle and daisy sandwich or two. Besides, speaking as someone whom technically no longer needs to eat, lack of need does not make a good meal any less enjoyable. If nothing else, consider this an opportunity to broaden your horizons." He stated easily, offering Chrysalis a square shaped object wrapped in wax paper. Sniffing the proffered item cautiously, she eventually took the sandwich in her magic's sickly green aura. Her cell's mystic restrictions were a bit different than the magic scramblers outside it. It prevented any spellcasting above a certain level, and any attempt to mess with the barrier or floor of her cell via spells of any kind would cause it to shut her magic off completely. Low level levitation still worked however.

Unwrapping the sandwich and taking a speculative nibble, Chrysalis had to struggle not to inhale it, as the mix of flavors danced across her tongue. Desperate not to let her dispassionate mask slip, she carefully controlled her expression, as she daintily took another bite. Unfortunately, Derran's knowing smirk told her she wasn't fooling anycreature.

"I take it you approve?" He asked easily. Chrysalis slowly chewed her bite of sandwich, refusing to let her enjoyment show on her face. How anycreature could make a few errant plants and sauces between two pieces of bread taste so good she had no idea.

"It is. . . adequate." She offered, in her best tone of faux nonchalance. Derran just shrugged as he retrieved a sandwich for himself.

"I also have grilled eggplant and mushrooms if you prefer?" He commented, as he took a bite. Chrysalis would deny till death, that the thought made her mouth water.

"Perhaps I might be tempted." She replied noncommittally. Even as she mentally vowed to eat as much as she could of everything in the basket, no matter what. Derran just chuckled as he pulled a thermos and two teacups from the wicker container. Filling both cups with the steaming contents of the thermos, he offered one to Chrysalis, whom immediately had to hide her interest in the sweet smelling concoction.

"I am told this tea blend has recently become all the rage. It is called: 'Slayer Leaf'." Chrysalis gave Derran a questioning look as she took the offered cup.

"Not my idea I assure you." He commented with a laugh. Taking a cautious sip, Chrysalis struggled not to react as the spicy, yet faintly sweet, liquid flowed over her tongue and down her throat.

For a time, the pair ate and drank in surprisingly companionable silence, broken only by Chrysalis requesting more food. Derran, for his part, made no comment, as the former Changeling queen ate her way through four sandwiches, seven cups of tea, an entire container of potato salad, and three quarters of a homemade strawberry cheesecake. Finally, as they sat there digesting, Derran reached over to grab his guitar, strumming out a few random chords as he tuned it.

"I wasn't aware you played an instrument." Chrysalis remarked, as she poured herself another cup of tea.

"To be fair, I didn't, until ten or so months ago." Derran replied with a chuckle. "However, I found a beginner's guide in the royal library and figured it might be a fun skill to learn." Chrysalis almost allowed herself a smile, but clamped down on the treacherous corners of her mouth just in time.

"So. . . what do you intend to play for me?" She inquired, doing a surprisingly good job of hiding her excitement. Derran shrugged as he finished adjusting the instrument.

"I had a few ideas, but I'm happy to take a request if you have one?" Chrysalis took a moment to haughtily toss her mane.

"Unlike ponies changelings do not waste time on frivolities like music. We are far too busy preparing to conquer our enemies and hunting for food." Derran glanced at Chrysalis with an unimpressed frown and an upraised eyebrow.

"Is that so? Because I heard you gave a rather impressive recitation of lyrical braggadocio during your first attempt at invasion." Chrysalis instantly felt her cheeks redden.

"T-that was spur of the moment! It's not like I rehearsed it!" Derran's raised eyebrow went up another notch. "Ok, it's not like I rehearsed it much. . . Four or five times at most." She stated in a faintly huffy tone. Derran just rolled his eyes.

"As you like. But I take it then that you have no requests?" Chrysalis refused to meet his gaze, cheeks still red as she replied.

"I'm sure your selections will be . . . acceptable." She stated simply, as she took a sip of her tea. Derran just chuckled as he started to play. His fingers dancing across the guitar strings, a gentle steady melody filling the air, Chrysalis's mask slipping, as her eyes widened. Then Derran began to sing, and the former queen became truly spellbound. . .

(Love Will Come to You, by Poets of the Fall)

The tune was rapid yet peaceful, the lyrics, at once both cheerful and mournful. Pulling at Chrysalis's mind and heart in a way she had never once experienced. As she listened she felt lighter, as if floating on a cloud. An unfamiliar warmth blossomed in her chest, as her cheeks flushed. Yet, at the same time, a feeling of longing pulsed in her heart, an odd melancholy seeming to press down on her. Images flashing through her head in time with the music. Imaginings that Chrysalis once would have thought alien, coaxed into her consciousness by the enchanting sound.

In her mind, Chrysalis saw herself and Derran atop a grassy hill, watching as the sun rose. Then suddenly, she was walking on the bank of a river, Derran standing on a bridge in the distance waiting for her. Chrysalis walked through an unfamiliar dusty mansion, smelling of cedar and memories, a wan light spilling in through lace curtained windows. As Derran leaned on a door frame in a faded, red flannel shirt. Again the mental images shifted, to show snow receding rapidly from a bed of flowers. Daffodils and crocuses emerging from the earth in the blink of an eye. As if time itself were accelerated, Chrysalis and Derran looking on from a fence nearby.

On and on the visions went, beautiful yet incomprehensible. Chrysalis wore a sundress and trimmed a rosebush, as around her trees like an impressionist painting rustled in the wind. Fall came, leaves falling in torrents from said trees, as Chrysalis and Derran walked side by side down a dirt path, their breath fogging as they laughed. Another strange and profound sense of longing throbbing in Chrysalis's heart, as the images inspired by the song played out.

She didn't know what these strange imaginings were, and yet. . . she wanted them. Not as mere fleeting conjurations in her mind, she wanted them as real happenings. She wanted to walk down those roads, see those sights, experience that strange mental world. More than that. . . she wanted Derran to be there. Not as her king, nor as an aid to her conquest, just to have him there. Just so she could share the experience with him. Chrysalis had no idea why she wanted any of this, but the desire burned within her like a bonfire as the song went on. Then, as it wrapped up, Chrysalis was stunned to feel a trickle of wetness, trail down her cheek. . .

"Beautiful. . ." She whispered, no longer even attempting to hide her true feelings. Derran however, made no comment, simply nodding, as the last notes faded away.

"It was one of my wife's favorite songs." He finally stated, his voice filled with a mix of emotions so complex they could never be properly described.

"You mean Twilight, Celestia and Luna?" Chrysalis asked softly, just a hint of her usual bitterness creeping into the words.

"No. . .”Derran stated quietly. "I mean my wife." He reiterated, his words becoming soft but firm. At that, Chrysalis's eyes widened slightly, and she turned to stare at Derran. His head turned away, and his distant expression fixed on a far wall. For a long moment, neither the former queen nor the ancient warrior spoke. Till finally, Derran broke the silence. "I had best get all this packed away. . . I have matters to attend to." Chrysalis nodded and tried not to look disappointed. As Derran put aside his guitar, and began placing various containers and bits of trash back in the picnic basket. She would have spoken, but between her own emotions and the revelation of Derran's past, Chrysalis had no idea what to say. . .

A short time later, Derran placed the last of the empty food containers back in the basket, though he left the blanket. Watching with a blank expression to hide her sorrow that their time together was ending, as well as various other emotions she had no name for or understanding of. Chrysalis sat and stared as Derran finished. As he hefted the guitar and placed the carrying strap over his shoulder, Chrysalis tried once more, to imagine what had even prompted all of this.

Derran had never made any secret of his dislike for her. Had it been up to him, Chrysalis had no doubt she would have died long ago. Yet not once over the course of this entire visit, had he so much as glared at her. It made no sense, even if Celestia herself had ordered him to do this, Chrysalis doubted Derran could have pulled it off without at least some indication of how he really felt. But if it had been his own choice, what could have been the reason for it? Finally, as Derran turned to go, Chrysalis's curiosity overcame her.

"I still don't understand. . . Why do all this?" She asked. Derran paused, his back still turned. For some time he stood there, before finally responding.

"I have. . . a task to perform. One that requires I put all those before it to rest." Chrysalis didn't know why, but that statement sent a jolt of genuine concern through her. However, before she could ask for further clarification, Derran interrupted. "Did you enjoy today?" He asked, a strange, unrecognizable tone in his voice. Chrysalis, caught off guard by the abrupt question, answered before she could think about it.

"Yes." She replied. Derran, still facing away from her, nodded.

"Good. . . because it will not be happening again." Derran's statement held no anger, no coldness, no nothing. It was empty of all emotion, whether good or ill. Yet at the same time, there was a. . . darkness, to his words. A terrible note of foreshadowing, that spoke of a horror not yet unleashed. To Chrysalis, there was something inherently terrifying about it. As best she could describe, it was like Derran was dispassionately holding a knife to his own throat. It was almost enough to distract her from a never before felt, twinge of pain in her heart. And struck her mute, as Derran walked away. Only a whisper was able to pass her lips, too low for even Chrysalis herself to hear, in a tone of desperation she would not have been able to explain even if she had been aware of it.

"Come back. . ."

Yet if Derran heard her almost silent plea, he gave no sign. As he left the chamber. . .

Derran passed the cages in the minimum security wing with an inexpressive and unsettling calm. An icy chill emanating from him as he waited for the portal to reopen. His business here was done, the war with Chrysalis given its proper close. It would no longer be a distraction. Like so many frivolous indulgences, his grudge needed to be cast aside. So that he might once more be about the business of war with the focus it demanded.

As the portal opened, Derran caught sight of his image in a discarded steel water dish next to an empty cage. For a moment, he simply stared at his distorted reflection, then he gave a faint nod. It seems there was one last stop he must make. A minor detail, but one that must be tended to.

In battle, a commander must set an example. Must present himself in a manner befitting the situation. It was time Derran made clear that the Doom Slayer's brief retirement was officially over. . .

Prepare for the Worst

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best."

-Soldier's Maxim.

Twilight sat in her customary seat at the head of the friendship map, feeling oddly self-conscious. On either side of her, were no less than four fully armed and armored Legion soldiers in a square formation around her. Two from the Solar Guard, and two from the Lunar Guard. All four with their blast rifles held across their chests, and heads scanning every possible angle of approach. The four 'on loan' bodyguards acting as place holders for when Twilight would be assigned a Guard of her own to command, and then be issued a quartet of personal protectors from said Guard.

Not that Twilight would be giving many orders to her, as of yet unchosen, private military. It having already been decided that Derran and the other Legion officers would be taking care of overall command of the Guards for the duration of the war. Something for which Twilight was immensely grateful. As her understanding of military tactics pretty much began and ended at knowing how to play chess. Still, she was obliged to sit in on strategy meetings, as she and the other princesses technically had veto authority over pretty much everything.

Honestly, it was only now dawning on Twilight how much, and how fast, things were changing. Before Hayden's arrival, bodyguards were something only Celestia and Luna had, and even then they were more ceremonial than practical. Now however, Twilight couldn't even use the little fillies room without an armed escort, carrying enough firepower to level a city block, following her. More than that, every room in her castle was being constantly swept for bugs, scrying spells, and assassins. Meetings with her now needed to be by appointment, and anycreature who so much as looked at her funny was regarded as a potential threat.

That's not to say her protectors didn't do what they could to keep a low profile. They were always polite to everycreature, and did their best not to invade Twilight's privacy any more than they needed too. They answered every question she had to the best of their ability. And they also toned down the security checks when it came to Twilight's close friends and family. Though, that may have been because they had also been provided with a pair of bodyguards each. This, she was told, was due not only to their connection to Twilight. But because most, if not all, of them were now considered permanent fixtures in the Legion's odd religion.

Upon being brought up to speed on recent events, the Legion had declared Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinky Pie, Rarity, and Applejack to be "Sainted Ones". As if that weren't enough, the CMC had been lauded as "Prophets", and Spike was given the title of "First Among Equals" as well as "High Seneschal". Twilight still didn't yet exactly understand what all these titles and honors meant. But it essentially boiled down to the Legion being required, to do almost anything they said unless someone of higher authority told them otherwise. With Twilight and her fellow Princesses sitting at the top of the overall command structure. Spike in particular had been floored when told that, in regards to Twilight's castle and its upkeep, as well as any other household matters, he technically outranked even Derran, and could actually give the Doom Slayer orders in some cases.

Even Starlight had been given a title, hers was "Chosen of the Seraphim". A title which, like the others, granted her a degree of authority over the Legion and its soldiers, despite it being mostly ceremonial. However, the Legion's most extreme reaction to the events of the last twelve hundred years, had been when they learned of Flurry Heart. The best words Twilight could use to describe it were: the most controlled explosion of insanity Equestria had ever seen.

They had dubbed her ``The Firstborn" in an obvious nod to her having been born an alicorn. And according to Cadence, some members of the Legion had openly wept with joy when they saw her. In addition, all of the Guard commanders, save Leonidas and Musashi, had immediately petitioned Derran and the other princesses via magic for the honor of becoming Flurry's personal army. The debate that ensued had actually gotten a bit heated, and It had taken a direct order from both Derran and Cadence to calm everycreature down. Not to mention, no sooner had that drama settled, than soldiers began making requests en masse for leave to go see the "living miracle". And only the pointed reminder that they were on a war footing, had persuaded them to drop the idea.

And to top it all off, all of this had all taken place in slightly less than forty eight hours.

Now Twilight sat awaiting the start of the first war council she had ever attended. Aside from her bodyguards, she was currently alone, her friends, Starlight, and Spike all out in Ponyville helping the Legion get settled. However, all that changed as the nearby clock struck three. Almost immediately there was a hum of energy, and a faint scent of ozone, as just around two dozen or so balls of bluish light, about a foot across, appeared in the air above the Friendship Map. Glowing with an ever brighter intensity, the spheres of light suddenly seemed to burst in a blinding flash. When Twilight's eyes finally adjusted, Celestia, Cadence, Luna, and about twenty humans in varying styles of magitech armor, stood around the table with her. With only a slight ethereal glow indicating their actual illusory nature. These were the commanders and lieutenants of the Doom Legion. The leaders of arguably the most powerful military force ever to exist. And boy did they look it. . .

Each was clad in suits of magetech powered armor based on designs from their original lost homelands on D'nur, minus the helmets. Some were flashy, others conservative. Yet all bore some kind of sign of their ultimate allegiance to Equestria. In the case of Musashi and Leonidas, their loyalties were writ large upon their armor. Leonidas showing Celestia's cutie mark on his chest, knees, and pauldrons, while everything else was modeled with a motif of flame to represent the blazing sun. Musashi's decorations were less dramatic, with just an image of Luna's cutie mark across his chest, proudly positioned over his heart, and rendered in stunning detail.

For the rest of the Legion, necklaces, bracelets, and etchings in their armor sufficed, typically depicting the twin teardrop swirl of ancient Equestria. However, Twilight noted that each had also either scratched her and Cadence's cutie marks onto the surface of their armor somewhere prominent. Or bore coins of metal around their necks with the symbols hammered or etched into them with differing levels of skill. Clearly feeling it important to acknowledge the new princesses as best they could. She was slightly curious why none of them had anything for Flurry Heart, given their overall reaction to her, but it was likely a simple matter of Flurry not having a cutie mark yet.

Turning to each of the princesses in turn, the commanders and lieutenants gave the Legion salute and bowed their heads. A degree of reverence to the action that Twilight found slightly worrying. Not least because of the shimmering light of religious fervor she could see lurking behind each of their eyes when they looked at her and the other princesses. Seeing it from Derran on occasion was disconcerting enough, but now having it multiplied just short of twenty times over was enough to make Twilight fidget slightly.

"Where is the Lord Doom Slayer and brother Santius? Should they not have arrived by now?" Leonidas asked, a faint note of disapproval in his deep, heavily accented voice.

"They both had some things to take care of, but they should be here soon." Twilight responded, feeling slightly defensive at Leonidas's tone. From her brief interactions with him, Twilight got the impression that Leonidas was a very. . . 'by the book' sort. However whatever offense he took to Derran and Michael's absence was swiftly muted, as the doors of the chamber swung open, admitting the final members of the council.

Derran, in contrast to his brothers, wore no armor. Instead having donned the dress uniform he had worn during his aborted coronation a year ago. The black cape, marked with his personal insignia, flowed out behind him as he entered the room, instead of being pulled to one side as it was the first time Twilight saw it. In addition to that subtle alteration, Twilight also noted the far less subtle addition of Unmaker strapped across his back, and a pistol holstered at his hip. Granted, Twilight very nearly missed these details upon seeing him, due to a very stark change he had made to his own body, specifically: his hair.

Derran's once flowing ebon locks had been shorn close to his skull in a military crewcut. Combined with his stern icy gaze and a presence that seemed to fill the room, it made even Twilight feel a chill of apprehension. The deceptively simple style change, seeming to drain away the warmth and gentleness of the Derran whom had serenaded Twilight from her balcony not three days ago. Replacing it with a cold and brutal aura that surrounded him like a cloak. As he walked into the room, Derran no longer looked like a friend or a lover, he looked like a general and conqueror. And despite knowing that's what Equestria needed him to be at the moment, Twilight couldn't help but dislike the change.

By comparison, Michael Santius looked even more angelic and serene standing at Derran's side. His expression beneficent, as the robes covering his armor softly billowed in time with his movements. Eyes of emerald green showing good humor and calm reverence, as he inclined his head toward Twilight, Celestia, Cadence and Luna. In his hand was one of his symbols of office, a simple staff of wood and metal, capped by the symbol of the two sisters wrought in silver and gold. Twilight still wasn't totally clear on how the Legion religion worked. But what she had pieced together led her to believe that, in addition to being a Legion lieutenant, Michael was also some sort of priest or holy mare.

"Apologies for making you wait your graces. Brothers." Michael offered with a soft smile. "A small matter of presentation unavoidably delayed us." He stated, his eyes flicking briefly toward Derran's head as they approached the table. The pair offered the Legion salute, and bowed toward Twilight and the other princesses. Neither Derran, nor Michael, sat down, as the Doom Slayer placed his hands on the edge of the table and fixed his brothers with a steely eyed expression.

"Given time is of the essence, and we all know why we are here and whom we are, I shall forgo ceremony and get right down to the matter at hand." Derran declared, his voice deep and commanding. "First order of business: Brother Leonidas, what is our current state of readiness?" Despite Twilight thinking it was impossible for him, Leonidas straightened up a bit more as he replied.

"All Commanders report one hundred percent of forces present and accounted for. Currently said forces are operating at rapid response strength, with ammunition and weaponry restricted to what each individual soldier had with them on awakening." Derran gave a nod as he considered the information.

"How many of our supply caches have been recovered?" He asked, his tone becoming clipped and efficient. To Twilight's surprise, the answer came from a sunburnt looking, round faced man in largely utilitarian armor, lightly decorated with colored beads and eagle feathers. His expression seemed far away, and his eyes filled with a tired wisdom. Twilight vaguely recalled him as the head of the Ghost Guard: Lord Roaring Bull.

"We have managed to locate nearly eighty six percent of the hidden caches." He stated, speaking in a faintly accented voice that, while calm, seemed to lend an immense weight to every word. As if there was some ancient hidden meaning in each syllable. "Between my men and Brother Musashi's we expect to have located them all within the next few hours." Derran nodded again, before a new voice, this one rough and regimented sounding, spoke up.

"An' how many of them have we started unloading? Last thing we need is to be caught with our pants down because the enemy decided to attack early." This, Twilight recognized, was the Commander of the Iron Guard: Lord Patton Murphy. His blond hair cut in a manner similar to Derran's, albeit slightly shorter, to the point that he almost looked bald. Roaring Bull seemed barely to react as he replied.

"Unfortunately, only a few dozen, none of which have been extensively unpacked." Patton looked ready to say something pointed, only for Roaring Bull to hold up a hand. "We didn't wish to commit the numbers a more thorough unloading would require until we had more knowledge of the strategic situation. I did however order Lieutenant Turok to designate a number of retrieval groups that are on standby." At this, the young stallion, or if you wanted to be literal, 'man', behind Roaring Bull gave a jaunty two finger salute. And Twilight couldn't help but contrast the Ghost Guard Lieutenant's upbeat demeanor and easy smile, with that of his more serious looking superior. Meanwhile, Patton's own Lieutenant gave a nod.

"Our retrieval squads are ready to hit the ground running as soon as the all clear is given sir." He explained, his voice somehow sounding both severe and congenial at the same time. "Sorry there wasn't time to brief you before the meeting." This man, bearded, with dark skin and with his hair covered by a billed, dark green cap, Twilight had already heard of mentioned once or twice, if only in passing. Lieutenant Avery Luther, whom most still referred to by his original rank of 'Sargent', had a reputation as a war hero even before D'nur fell. It was said the only reason he wasn't the Iron Guard's Commander was because it would take him away from the action too much. Patton just nodded in response, but was interrupted before he could do more.

"Say Boss, not for nothing, but, who exactly are we fighting? It's too quiet for the demons, and I seriously doubt you woke us all up because you needed help getting Parasprites out of milady's garden." The surprisingly irreverent question came as ever from Musashi Yamato, his illusory image next to Luna, currently leaning on something none of the others could see. And whom Twilight already knew as Commander of the night princess's personal military force: The Lunar Guard. Evidently the question was a popular one, as all of the Legion officers present immediately directed their gazes to Derran. Letting out a sigh, Derran's expression seemed to falter slightly as he replied.

"I suppose it was foolish to think I could put this off for long." He declared softly, instantly causing the Legion officers around him to glance at each other in confusion. Twilight didn't blame them. After all, what enemy could be so terrible that even the Doom Slayer would hesitate to speak of them? Then again, Twilight could certainly understand Derran's reluctance, considering the enemy's species. His next words were preceded by a heavy sigh, and a distinct flicker of shame in his eyes. "Before I answer, I must first tell you of a planet called 'Mars'. And the great heresy that was committed there. . ."

As Derran began his tale, Twilight, having already heard the story, studied the faces of the Legion Commanders and Lieutenants. She watched, as their expressions went from intrigued, to confused, to outright horrified. Derran laying out the events at the UAC Mars facility, as well as who was responsible, and why it had been done. As he wrapped up his explanation with the destruction of the last living Lord of Hell, and Samuel Hayden's disastrous attempt at betrayal that led to Derran's return to Equestria, the room was dead silent. The expressions on the faces of the assembled Legion officers were a mix of shock and disbelief, coupled with shame. Even Michael seemed to be having trouble processing what he just heard, his face displaying only heartbreak and sorrow. Finally, however, a voice spoke.

"So then. . ." The rough but feminine voice began. "what does this 'Ayden fellow want now?" The voice was, like many in the Legion, heavily accented. It was also one of the few accents Twilight had a name for, it was from Feyland, the same kind that Derran's wife had had. It came from the only female Commander the Legion possesed, Lady Bodica Iceni. Leader of the Glacier Guard. Standing next to Cadence, her fiery red hair and fur trimmed armor, only served to highlight her grim expression. Derran's countenance was no less dark as he answered.

"He desires that I hand over the Crucible. . . and he has threatened to destroy Equestria if I refuse." At that, the atmosphere of the room took a terrifying shift. As initial expressions of horror and shock, turned instantly to ones of barely suppressed, incandescent, rage. The eyes of the Legion Commander's and Lieutenants seemed to blaze with an indescribable fire, as the room filled with an immense pressure.

Instantly, Twilight felt her fight or flight instinct explode into action. Adrenalin flooded her body, her pupils dilating, her ears flattening against her head, and her stance unconsciously shifting in preparation to run or fly away at the slightest provocation. The temperature of the room seemed to plummet, and for a brief instant it felt as if Twilight's lungs had been paralyzed. Her body panicking as she struggled to draw breath. Only the placing of a calming hand on her shoulder, prevented Twilight from bolting for the door.

Looking up, she saw the one figure among the Legion who seemed to have retained his calm, gazing down at her. Michael Santius favored Twilight with a reassuring smile, as a sense of serenity seemed to spread from his hand throughout her body, allowing her lungs time to recall how to function. Her momentary panic eventually subsiding to the point she could stand her ground and listen.

"A. . . human did this?" Asked Musashi, disbelief warring with rage in his tone. Derran's reply was like ice as he replied.

"Hayden's status as a human is debatable given his physical state. However there is no question that the other inhabitants of his world are undoubtedly, human. . . and that they support him." Musashi's expression looked like he had just tasted something incredibly foul, but before he could speak, a clipped voice chimed in.

"Well then, I should think our course of action is obvious." The voice, carrying a Trottingham-like accent, all but shook with restrained fury, yet remained prim and proper regardless. This was Lord Montgomery Price, Commander of the Scarlet Guard. The Legion's aquatic warfare specialists if Twilight recalled correctly. "We assemble a strike force and send them to this Hayden chap's home world. They must have at least a few solar-fusion bombs or some-such lying about, so we seize control of their stockpiles, arm them, and sterilize the planet in its entirety." Here Price turned to fix Derran with a look of stony discipline. "With your permission my Lord, I will personally volunteer to lead the mission." Twilight felt her eyes widen in shock at the suggested plan. But before she could offer an objection to what seemed a terrifyingly casual proposal of genocide, Leonidas spoke up.

"I agree with our illustrious brother! These monsters are a stain upon the multiverse! They consort with demons and have directly threatened the Holy Land and the Seraphim! If they are so intent upon following the path of heresy, then I say let them burn!" He declared loudly, pounding his illusionary fist on an unseen table for emphasis. "I will accompany this mission as well! By the time the Scarlet Guard has seized the weapons, the Solar Guard will have turned the leaders of Hayden's obscene world to ASHES!!" A chorus of approval greeted this pronouncement, as others began to volunteer to go on the proposed mission of murder.

"Our Guard has the best magetech specialists, I offer them and myself to help seize the weapons!"

"You'll need some 'eavy support, ah know some lads ta' bring!"

"I got some boy's who'll be happy to cut you a path to whatever hole Hayden is hiding in Brother!"

"My snipers can assist!"

"No." The word, despite the one making it not being physically present, and despite being uttered with less volume than the shouting of the ones it was addressing, instantly cowed the Legion warriors into silence. As Celestia stepped forward, her mane billowing as she fixed her disapproving gaze upon the soldiers before her. Instantly, the aura of fury and terror the Legion had created was obliterated by one of penultimate authority. As the solar princess, with a gaze of steel and a presence that absolutely destroyed any thought of challenge, spoke in a tone that reverberated in Twilight's very soul. "I do not care how dire this situation has become." She stated, her eyes flashing. "I absolutely forbid any strategy that relies upon the extermination of an entire planet. Let alone the butchering of innocent civilians." Here her gaze and tone softened slightly. "Protecting ourselves is one thing, cold blooded murder is quite another." As she finished, Luna and Cadence nodded in agreement, their expressions stern. Meanwhile the Commanders and Lieutenants of the Legion seemed to register shock, before turning their heads in shame. As if suddenly realizing the gravity of what they had just proposed. Only Derran and Michael seeming immune, one appearing unfeeling, the other giving a gentle smile of approval.

"My Ladies. . ." Derran began, his voice calm, with only the barest touch of hesitation. "While I understand your reluctance, such a strategy would provide a swift end to the war and minimize the damage to Equestria. However brutal, the idea has merit." The look Celestia gave Derran, for all its calm, was legitimately terrifying. Her eyes glowing with a faint multicolored light, and radiating a power of command that would snap the will of lesser beings like a twig as her mane flared. How Derran was able to even meet her gaze at that moment without at least flinching, Twilight would never know. Yet as Celestia opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted.

"With respect my Lord, the Seraphim's will is clear." Michael Santius's voice was calm, gentle, and seemed to wash away the building tension in the room like a fresh spring rain. Yet still, there was a clear note of iron in every word. For a moment it seemed Like Derran wanted to argue, but after turning and looking Michael in the eye for a moment, he slowly nodded his head.

"Yes. . . you are correct brother." He admitted solemnly, before turning to look at Celestia. "Forgive me my Lady, I simply wished to ensure all options were given due consideration. But in doing so, it seems I have spoken out of turn. As such I withdraw my statement and offer my apologies." Celestia returned his nod, her eyes and mane returning to normal.

"It's fine Derran, let's just forget it and move on." Inclining his head slightly in agreement, Derran cleared his throat as he continued the briefing.

"In any case, the point is largely moot. We have no means to create a portal to Hayden's world, nor enough information to devise a way to seize control of one of his. As such, we must instead approach this war from a defensive perspective." Here Derran turned to look at Twilight. "Lady Twilight, would you please call up the map?" Twilight nodded, Derran having already spoken to her about using the Friendship Map to help plan the defense. As it was the most accurate cartographic tool currently available. Lighting her horn, Twilight coaxed the map to life. All of Equestria appearing in miniature in stunningly precise detail, a few inches above the surface of the crystal table projecting it. Indicating the image, Derran made a sweeping gesture.

"As you all can see. . ." Derran began. "The Equestria of today is far larger and more densely populated than it was twelve hundred years ago. There are a multitude of small villages and hamlets dotting the countryside, away from the, now more numerous, major population centers. All of them connected largely via roads and rail." Across the map, Twilight highlighted several hundred of the smaller towns with a simple spell. Montgomery Price stroked his mustachioed upper lip as he frowned, scrutinizing the map.

"Holding all that territory with just ten thousand soldiers is a bit of a tall order my Lord." Derran nodded.

"Indeed, which is why we are not going to attempt to do so." Derran replied, causing his fellow officers to give him a curious glance. "Much though it pains me, we must acknowledge our limitations. It is not feasible to hold every populated location in modern Equestria, our available manpower is too restricted." Here he gestured at Manehatten, Fillydelphia, and several other metropolises. "As such, we will fortify the major cities, and focus the bulk of our garrisons there. Any town or minor settlement that is not deemed strategically vital, will have to be abandoned, and the residents evacuated to the nearest city." At that the Legion Commanders and Lieutenants shifted uncomfortably.

"My Lord, could you clarify what will be considered 'strategically vital'?" Michael Santius asked gently, voicing the question he seemed to know his fellow warriors, as well as Twilight and the other princesses, had. Derran nodded.

"Centers of agriculture, mining, and manufacturing mostly, as well as any location that can be easily fortified and used as a staging area for launching counter attacks against the enemy." Several Commanders gave nods of agreement, as others focused on the map with contemplative looks. "We also must make every effort to secure Equestria's railways, as they will be essential lines of supply. While our Brothers can indeed simply run from location to location easily thanks to the Seraphim's holy blessing. We cannot carry the food or resources to sustain the cities or their populations. The rails are natural targets for the enemy. When they attack them, and they shall, we must endeavor to make it as militarily expensive for them as possible." Again there was a series of nods.

"I see several areas that could be turned into traps for the enemy." The commander who spoke, in an oddly soothing, deep baritone, was a true giant of a man, nearly seven feet tall if Twilight was to guess. With ebony skin and a face that, even when frowning in concentration, seemed to favor good humor. All these things made Lord Kunta Zulu, Commander of the Zulu Guard, stand out, whether he wanted to or not. Gesturing with an armored hand that looked like it could punch out a mountain, Kunta indicated the Everfree Forest, Whitetail Woods, and a number of gorges and other forested areas. "These locations are good cover for infantry. Most are right up against several villages, including some we might need to garrison. With a bit of magic and effort, they could be made into walls for the enemy, but we could pass through unhindered." Roaring Bull and Musashi nodded at their colleague's pronouncement.

"Brother Zulu is correct." Roaring Bull opined. "If the Zulu, Ghost, and Lunar Guards work in concert, we could easily render much of the land impassable to the enemy. If we can control their movements, make them more predictable, then we can easily cut down their effectiveness. Add in rotating patrols and escorts along the most vital railways, and that will see our supply lines secured." Derran nodded.

"Agreed. Then Brothers Zulu, Musashi, and Roaring Bull, the task is yours. Do your utmost to secure our lines of communication, and to express our most extreme displeasure to the enemy when they arrive." The three commanders each gave a cold smile as they nodded.

"Indeed my Lord." Kunta replied. At that point however, Patton spoke up.

"Well that's all fine and dandy, but this is starting to sound more and more like a war of attrition, and frankly we don't have the numbers to win that kind of war. Even if we kill hundreds of thousands, and make no question of it; we absolutely Light-damned will, Hayden likely has millions. It might be one thing if we were able to take the offense. Fight and fade like we did in Hell, but here we can't do that. Not to mention we're currently a pure infantry force, and you can bet your sweet bippy that Hayden is gonna be rolling in the armor as soon as he damn well can." Several of the other Commanders gave reluctant nods at Patton's assessment. Derran however, simply met his brother's collective gaze with a reassuring coolness.

"Under normal circumstances I would agree with you Brother Patton. However, I can assure you that we have several factors in our favor. First, despite all that he would like to pretend otherwise, Hayden is desperate. His Argent Energy reserves are sharply limited, and having retooled his planet's entire infrastructure to rely upon it, he has no alternative energy source to easily fall back on. It is for this same reason that I believe Hayden will do all he can to avoid heavy use of armor and aircraft, though we should certainly expect the possibility. In addition, Hayden's forces are purely tech based, they posses no magic, which hands us a massive advantage in firepower. On top of that, we have at least a month to prepare for Hayden's assault."

"Are you so certain Brother?" Asked yet another new voice. Glancing across the table, Twilight saw the speaker. A man with an aristocratic air, and a long thin mustache and goatee. He had clever, dark eyes, brown skin, and a mysterious smile. As he continued, Twilight couldn't help but be fascinated by the sibilant purr of his voice. As she remembered his name: Lord Tarif Saladin, Commander of the Shimmer Guard. "As brother Leonidas pointed out, we are dealing with heretics, honorless dogs. Why should we believe Hayden will keep his word and not attack sooner?" Derran inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of the point.

"A fair question Brother Saladin. The truth is we cannot take any of what Hayden says at face value. We must operate under the assumption that he intends to attack early. However, I have good reason to believe he will keep his word." Saladin arched an eyebrow in curiosity.

"May I ask your reason, my Lord?" He inquired. Derran nodded.

"Simply put: because Hayden is utterly insane. He genuinely believes himself to be the hero in all this. Breaking a promise would threaten that narrative. Granted it is not impossible he will find some way to rationalize an earlier start to the fighting, but I find the possibility unlikely. Not to mention, he very clearly has no idea any of you exist. Whatever information he has on the Legion, it led him to the conclusion that you were a weapon, not an army. He thinks I am alone in my resistance, and thus is secure in his belief that victory will be easily achieved." Saladin nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

"And what of the Crucible?" He asked, almost as an afterthought. "Where is it being secured?" Derran shook his head.

"Forgive me brother, but I am afraid that is one secret I cannot share. Rest assured however that it is safe, and in a location Hayden is unable to access." Again Saladin nodded.

"As you say my Lord." He conceded. Turning his attention back to the room as a whole, Derran began wrapping up.

"As it stands, each of you will be assigned a zone of the holy land to defend. As far as the fortification and evacuation efforts of your individual zones, I leave it up to all of your, and your officers, discretion. If you find you need skills better suited to other Guards, you should petition your brothers for aid as required. Unless otherwise needed, we will meet twice weekly to coordinate and adjust our strategy. Are there any questions?" No one spoke, and Derran nodded. "Good. Then before I open up the floor for a more open discussion, there are just a few final matters to attend to. Brother Khamun, Sister Bodica?"

At Derran's word, Bodica and the one Commander whom had yet to speak, looked up. Khamun was quite a bit shorter then most of his brothers. With dark brown skin, long lashes, full lips, and a shaved and tattooed head, Twilight honestly would have guessed he was a girl if she hadn't been told otherwise.

"Yes my Lord?" The pair replied almost in unison.

"I am designating both of your Guards as the personal forces of Ladies Cadence and Twilight. Sister Bodica shall serve Lady Cadence, while Brother Khamun shall serve under Lady Twilight. If you have objections, voice them now." Derran stated brusquely. Instantly, the expressions of Bodica, and Khamun, morphed into ones of shock.

"I-I'm honored my Lord! If Lady Twilight thinks me worthy that is." Khamun finally managed to get out.

"Aye! What e' said. If 'er Ladyship 'll 'ave me I'm more'n proud ta' serve her." Bodica agreed. Derran, his face unreadable, then turned to look at Cadence and Twilight, both of whom were still trying to process what was happening. Granted they had both been told to expect this, but neither had thought it would be done so soon.

"Very well. Then Lady Cadence, do you, as the Seraphim of Love, find Sister Bodica and her warriors worthy of service to you? To act in your name, protect your lands and ponies, and defend your honor?" Cadence, seemingly nonplussed, took a deep breath.

"I. . . well. . . yes I'm sure she's worthy. But Derran, is this really necessary?" Derran nodded.

"It is indeed my Lady, all Seraphim of the Holy Land must be assigned a personal Guard sworn to their service. I will not go into the reasons right now, but be assured it is important." Glancing around the room, Cadence still looked uncertain. Fortunately Celestia was willing to chime in.

"I know this seems like a big responsibility, but trust me Cadence, it's no different than commanding members of the EUP." Here she glanced over at Twilight with a motherly smile. "Same for you Twilight, I know you aren't used to having guards around, but it's not nearly as big an adjustment as it seems." Twilight wasn't entirely convinced of that, but she trusted Celestia, and nodded in agreement.

"Good." Derran stated. "Normally this would all call for a great deal more ceremony, but as I have mentioned, time is of the essence. As such: Sister Bodica, seeing that Lady Cadence has given her assent, you shall be first to swear the oath. Khamun's oath can wait until he and his Guard are physically present in Ponyville." Bodica, or more accurately her projection, nodded as she turned to face Cadence along with her blond, square jawed Lieutenant, whom Twilight vaguely recalled being named Thor Dreadhammer.

Falling to one knee in front of Cadence, they bowed their heads, as they placed their right fists over their hearts. Derran then, to Twilight's faint surprise, turned to Michael, who gave a slight nod as he stepped forward. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a deeply formal tone.

"Sister Bodica: Commander of the Glacier Guard, Wielder of the battle axe Hellbane; Honor, Wolf Queen of Odinia, and Sister in Arms of the Legion. On this day, before the Light, the Seraphim, and your fellow Commanders, do you swear yourself and your warriors to the eternal service of Lady Cadence: Seraphim of Love, Ruler of the Crystal Empire, Vanquisher of Chrysalis, Reviver of the Crystal Heart, and Mother of the Living Miracle?" Bodica did not raise her head as she replied.

"Before the Light eternal an' my honored brothers, ah do hereby swear m'self an' my warriors to Lady Cadence's service." Michael merely nodded in response, the expressions of the other Legion officers grim, as they scrutinized the kneeling Bodica and Thor. To Twilight it seemed almost as if they were judging them.

"Do you swear to always place her will above all other concerns? That none save the Light itself, shall stand higher than she?" At that Twilight arched an eyebrow, did that mean Cadence was higher in the chain of command for Bodica and her Guard than the other princesses? Twilight, despite having been told her and the other Princesses authority was effectively limitless, still wasn't totally clear on exactly how the Legion chain of command worked, but It certainly sounded like it.

"Upon the honor of m'self an' my Guard, an' in the name of the Light, aye do so swear." She intoned solemnly.

"And finally, do you swear, under pain of death and damnation, that no enemy or force shall harm the Seraphim of Love as long as even a single member of your Guard lives? That such shall be the strength of your defense, that blood need never stain her hoof or horn?" The way Michael spoke as he recited the final question, sent chills down Twilight's spine. The air in the room suddenly seeming heavier, as Bodica replied.

"Aye swear. An' may the Darkness take our souls if these oaths be proven false." Michael gave a final nod.

"Before the Light, the Seraphim, and your Brothers, these vows are hereby witnessed. Offer your weapon to your new mistress." Without a word, Bodica unstrapped a large double headed battle axe of black metal, etched with golden runes, from her back. Twilight having failed to notice it largely because most of it had not been rendered by Bodica's projection till now, and what was rendered was largely concealed behind her back. Balancing the weapon on her upturned palms, the Commander of the Glacier Guard presented it to Cadence, her head still bowed as she did so. Cadence merely stared at it, uncertain what she was supposed to do. Fortunately, Michael's next words cleared it up.

"Place your hoof upon the offered blade my Lady, and know that it is yours to wield for as long as you deem it worthy." Cadence nodded, stepping forward, she took a deep breath before placing her right hoof upon the haft of the battle axe. An odd expression passed across her face, as she looked down at Bodica, her eyes widening ever so slightly. As if some unspoken understanding had suddenly passed between them. Then Cadence favored Bodica and Thor with a gentle smile, as she withdrew her hoof.

"Thank you Lady Bodica, and you, Sir Thor." She stated, her tone heartfelt. The pair just nodded, smiles on their faces as they got back to their feet.

"Happy ta' be of service m' Lady." Bodica replied.

Twilight felt utterly spent. Following the swearing in of Bodica and the newly renamed Crystal Guard, the meeting had swiftly taken a turn toward the mind-breakingly tedious. Discussions of supply and material, evacuation planning, food distribution and rationing. Ideas for retooling of Equestrian manufacturing to produce weapons, ammunition and armor. The securing of vital resources, intelligence gathering, dealing with issues of civilian vs military authority, construction of defenses, construction of secondary and tertiary defenses. On and on and on it went, issues raised, discussed, and resolved before being brought up and discussed again later, the whole process seemingly without end.

Twilight considered herself an amazing organizer, more to the point, it was one of her great joys. However, as she finally stumbled out of the council chamber at well past midnight, she would not have cared if she never saw another spreadsheet or organization chart ever again. What was worse, was that most of the meeting wasn't even about hard numbers, but about whom the Legion needed to consult for hard numbers! Celestia had managed to fill in plenty of blanks, but even she apparently didn't know every facet of what was where in her kingdom.

Still, good progress had been made, and the fact that the Legion didn't need to sleep or eat, meant that work could begin immediately. Twilight groaned as she nearly tripped over her own hooves, what she wouldn't give for a bit of the Legion's indefatigability. Yet even so, her body was abuzz with nervous energy as she glanced over at Derran.

Out of all the worries on her personal list, Derran was currently number one. Ever since he had entered the council chamber, his whole persona had felt different. During the meeting he had felt. . . cold, even unfeeling at times. Never once had he smiled, or looked relaxed, and not one word he spoke was done with anything other than total seriousness. Even when his brothers had cracked a joke or two, or made some wry observation, his expression had not changed. Even now, Derran walked with his face frozen in a tight frown. His brow furrowed as if concentrating on something in front of him nocreature else could see. Somehow, it was even more unnerving than when he had been consumed by berserk rage six months ago.

"My Lord?" Michael asked as he walked alongside the two of them.

"Yes brother?" Derran answered, his tone distant.

"Your bootlace is untied." Abruptly, Derran halted, followed swiftly by Twilight and Michael, as he glanced down at his feet. Only to be met by the sight of two tightly tied leather shoes. As Twilight watched, Derran slowly raised his head, his unamused frown meeting Michael's innocently smiling face. For a moment, Twilight felt worried, as Derran glared angrily at his brother. Yet, despite being fixed with a glare that had sent the mightiest of demons fleeing in terror, Michael just continued smiling. Then, suddenly, Twilight blinked in shock, as the corner of Derran's mouth twitched.

Derran shook slightly, as he struggled to hold on to his serious demeanor. A faint sputtering escaping from his lips, as his cold mask shattered further. Tears streamed from his eyes as his iron will, for once, failed him, and he burst out laughing. Barely able to stand, he placed one hand on Michael's shoulder for support, as he too started laughing. Twilight just stared for a moment, watching as two warriors of legend, desperately leaned on each other as they howled with mirth at perhaps one of the stupidest jokes in the world. Yet as she watched, thinking about the absurdity of it all, Twilight felt the corners of her mouth quirk into a smile, a low chuckle building in the back of her throat. Before swiftly transforming into a laugh every bit as vigorous as the two humans before her.

It felt amazing, all the stress and strain of the prior meeting washed away. The tension bleeding out of them as they shed, if only for a time, the trappings of godhood, leadership, and expectation, in favor of the simple mortal pleasure of camaraderie and humor. Twilight had badly needed the outlet, and clearly, so had Derran.

She had no idea how long the three of them stood there, tears streaming from their eyes. However Twilight found herself quite grateful that her bodyguards had been dismissed earlier to await her at her quarters by Derran. She didn't relish the idea of having to explain this to them. As the three of them finally managed to get themselves under control, Twilight was amazed to see Derran grinning like a madmare. The coldness in his gaze replaced once more by the warmth she had come to love.

"Ah, much better." Michael exclaimed as he dried his eyes with a handkerchief pulled from within his robes. "Truly my Lord, you had become so dour I feared I may need to break out the rubber chicken." Derran just fixed his brother with a faux glare.

"How dare you! I will have you know brother, that never once in my life have I been 'dour'. Stern? Maybe. Concerned? Definitely. Brooding? Occasionally. But dour? Never!" Michael suddenly pretended to look horrified.

"And now you would lie in the divine presence of her Ladyship?! Light above brother, what has become of you?!" Here he turned to bow deeply to a struggling not to start laughing again Twilight. "My deepest apologies your grace! I really can't take him anywhere." At that, Derran baulked theatrically, before putting on a false tone of indignance.

"Take me anywh-I am your commanding officer?!" Michael gave a dismissive shrug.

"Oh please, my commanding officer would never be so dour or act so blasphemously before Milady. Whomever you are, I must say you fill his boots quite poorly." Twilight, with tears once more running down her face as she forced herself to control her laughter, only just managing to speak.

"Michael does have a point. You're way more dour than the Derran I know and love. Maybe you are an imposter." At that, Derran's expression turned to one of overacted exasperation.

"Et tu' my beloved? Et tu'?! Very well then, I shall prove it!" Here, Derran, in a blur of movement, swept Twilight off her forehooves, placing his right arm in the small of her back before bringing her into a searing kiss. For several seconds Twilight's mind went blank, as all of Derran's love and passion for her flowed to every part of her body. Her hooves tingling, as a distinct feeling of warmth formed in her flank. A big goofy smile adorning her face as Derran slowly broke the kiss. "Still uncertain of my identity?" He asked with a grin, his voice low and alluring. Twilight, temporarily unable to communicate, found herself unable to do anything but shake her head.

A short time later, after bidding Twilight goodnight, Derran and Michael walked down the hallway of the Castle of Friendship in silence. Both preoccupied with thoughts of the coming war. Derran would have liked to have gone with Twilight to bed, but there was simply too much to be done. His mind churned with all manner of strategic considerations, logistical issues, and military concerns. All the while trying to ignore the swirl of dark thoughts centering around Brother Price's earlier suggestion. However, he was broken out of both by Michael's voice.

"She is worried about you, you know." Derran let out a sigh, he might have guessed Michael would see through him to the deepest of his worries. Sometimes it was as if his Lieutenant could read his every thought.

"I know."

"As are Ladies Luna and Celestia." Derran nodded.

"I know." He replied again, a distinct weariness in his voice.

"It may not be my place to say my Lord, but. . . I do not believe the general you were, is the general we need right now." Derran let out another deep sigh, of course Michael had pinpointed his greatest dilemma. Truly sometimes even he stood in awe of his Lieutenant's perceptive abilities.

"The old me never lost a battle." Derran replied, his tone wavering between conviction and uncertainty. Michael's tone became slightly stern.

"Perhaps, but he very nearly lost the war for your soul." Derran shook his head.

"What would you have me do brother? The stakes have never been greater. The holy land itself is threatened, if we lose here. . . if we lose here we lose everything." Michael placed his hand on Derran's shoulder in reassurance, the pair halting before the doors leading back to the council chamber.

"I know the burden you carry my Lord, and do not doubt that I share your fears. However, despite those fears, I have no doubt whatsoever that we will win." Derran gave a low, exasperated chuckle.

"How can you be so certain brother? How can any of us?" Michael gazed into Derran's eyes with a look of pure conviction, at odds with his gentle smile.

"Because I have faith Brother. Faith in the Legion, faith in the Seraphim. . . and faith in the man whom taught me to believe in the impossible." Here Derran felt himself unconsciously return his brother's smile. "And that man, doesn't need to become a monster to win." Derran let out a sigh, feeling a sense of tranquility come over him. The weight on his mind feeling ever so slightly lighter. As he pushed his dark musings to the back of his mind, the doubt was still there, gnawing at the base of his consciousness, but for now he felt able to master it.

"Thank you, Brother." Derran stated feelingly. Michael simply nodded, as they reentered the council chamber.

Plowshares to Swords

"What idiot told you guns don't kill people?! Course they do! So do knives, spears, swords, and a good sturdy rock! Hell, anything you can imagine can kill people, guns just do it best!"

-Legion Commander Patton Murphy

Twilight once heard it said that 'Canterlot wasn't built in a day'. A statement that by and large, she still believed held true. However, seeing the changes wrought to Ponyville by the Legion after slightly less than a week of work, she was beginning to seriously question its sincerity.

What had once been a small, if famous, town at the foot of the Everfree Forest, was now more akin to a fortified military complex. Around the collection of residences and businesses, multiple walls had been erected. Crafted from stone and conjured from the living earth by Legion battlefield magetechnicians, they surrounded the town on all sides like the rings of a great tree. Standing twenty feet tall, the -no less than three- rings of twelve foot thick outer walls, were connected to the town by an elaborate system of tunnels and trenches. All of which were in turn fortified and then magically trapped.

If you weren't Legion, equine, or a species recognized as friendly to ponykind, you'd have a better chance surviving in the crater of an erupting volcano than making it through the defenses alive. As a now incinerated manticore found out a day ago after trying to jump part of the wall. Fluttershy had since been running herself ragged, explaining to the creatures of the forest that they needed to stay away from the defenses until the Legion sorcerers and magetechnicians's could tweak the traps to recognize them as friendly.

Inside the town, every house, cottage and business had received enchantments to make them all into veritable bunkers in their own right. Not to mention deathtraps to anycreature that might be considered hostile. All of this was reinforced by one of the great wonders of D'nurian mage-science, magetech shield generators. Pulled from the ancient war caches of the Legion, they had been swiftly distributed to all the cities and towns selected for fortification.

Now over dozens of hamlets and metropolises in Equestria was a near invisible bubble of magical energy. Designed to withstand everything from plasma blasts and bullets, right up to sustained artillery bombardments and carpet bombings, and Ponyville was no exception. Add to that an enchanted minefield and an elaborate system of traps still under construction in the fields and forests surrounding the town, and the sleepy little hamlet Twilight called home was now more secure than Tartarus, even without its newly arrived defenders. Ponyville, due to it being so close to the center of Equestria, had been designated as a strategic hub for soldiers and supplies. The Legion had even expanded the train station, and were working day and night to extend new tracks to reach across the country.

Ponyville also now hosted an impressive garrison of close to fifteen hundred Legion soldiers. Most from the newly christened 'Star Guard', the personal protectors of Twilight herself. The rest were primarily Solar or Lunar Guard, but there were a number of squads from other Guards, whose unique skills were required to aid the defense effort in Ponyville. Granted, the total number of warriors fluctuated daily as they were dispatched to various other locations where they were needed.

As Twilight walked down the street, she saw both ponies and power armored humans rushing to and fro, most either hauling materials and supplies, or holding scrolls and clipboards. A low clamor of mixed voices and sounds filled the air. Calls for blueprints and lists by various forecreatures, shouted directions from Legion officers, the pounding of hammers and buzz of saws, along with the low chanting of mages casting spells of enchantment and protection.

"Is everything alright Heka?" The mechanically distorted and accented voice startled Twilight for a moment, before she recalled her companion. Apparently she had stopped and stared without realizing it.

"No, sorry Hashut. I just got distracted for a moment." The armored figure, bedecked in ornate red and gold armor and a purple and pink robe covered in glowing runes, nodded.

"As you say Heka." Hashut replied, before returning to scanning the street around them for threats. His helmet, shaped to appear as a snarling lion, did not move, yet Twilight had no doubt that he saw absolutely everything. As they continued walking, Twilight found it almost disconcerting how unobtrusive her bodyguard and his fellows could be when they wanted to. Currently there was only one of four with her, the remaining three having been sent out on various errands at Twilight's request.

As they moved through the streets, Twilight did her best to smile at all the Legion soldiers who paused what they were doing and bowed or saluted to her. Frankly, she could have done without the fanfare, limited though it was. It wasn't so much annoying as embarrassing, especially given that most of those soldiers present were Star Guard, and typically had her cutimark prominently displayed somewhere on their armor. It reminded her way too much of that time she briefly walked in on Shining Armor wearing what she was positive had been a leather collar with a pendant in the shape of Cadence's cutimark. Instantly her face reddened slightly at the memory, that had been an extremally awkward family visit.

"Still not used to the attention Heka?" Hashut asked, a trace of amusement in his voice. Twilight almost jumped at the question. How a man whose head was fully encased in an armored helmet could see so much without turning was beyond her. Nevertheless, Twilight managed a wan smile.

"More like not used to seeing hundreds of creatures all painted with the same symbol I have on my flank." She replied. Hashut let out a chuckle.

"You are Heka. We are your sworn servants. They are proud to serve, and wish to show their devotion." He stated, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Here Hashut lowered his voice slightly. "Also, I suspect my brothers might be afraid of forgetting which Guard they are in." At that Twilight gave a slight snort of laughter. Mystically enhanced memory meant Legion soldiers -especially the Star Guard- seldom forgot anything.

Further conversation stalled as the pair arrived at their destination, the house of Doctor Whooves. Now designated as the primary R&D lab for the Legion. Currently it was undergoing a massive remodel. Covered in scaffolding and workers both human and equine. Most of the nearby houses were in a similar state, having been bought by the crown and then internally expanded with spatial magic and connected together to create a network of labs and production facilities. As for the Doctor's original residence, multiple simultaneous additions were currently being constructed and the basement was being dug out and expanded. This was where Twilight, along with innumerable pony and Legion scholars, mages, and inventors, including Starlight Glimmer, Maud Pie, and Doctor Whooves himself, were all assisting the war effort alongside the rest of the Star Guard. Sunburst was also in frequent communication, while helping set up a second research facility in the Crystal Empire.

Though clearly not happy about it, Derran and the other Legion commanders had decided that they needed to fast track the mass production of magetech armor, equipment, and weapons. Not to mention learn the secret of Samuel Hayden's portal technology. Twilight and her team had been the natural choice to spearhead such an endeavor. And with the Star Guard's help they had already had a breakthrough, thanks to a certain project Twilight and the Doctor had already been working on.

Heading toward the main door to the house, Twilight was met by a pair of Star Guard soldiers standing at attention. Each held a staff in one hand, their other hand hanging loosely near the blast pistols maglocked to their hip. As they saw Twilight approach, the pair brought up their unoccupied hands. Making a series of complex signs with their fingers, a faint blue glow enveloped their hands as they held them up, palm first. Twilight felt a faint tickling sensation as the spell confirmed her identity. A moment later the soldiers withdrew their hands and lightly inclined their heads.

"A thousand pardons for the delay Heka. Please proceed, the others await you inside." Twilight gave the pair of soldiers a smile.

"Thank you Anku, and you too Simbel." The pair seemed to hold themselves a little straighter in response to being addressed by name.

"It is an honor to serve glorious Heka." Anku replied.

"May your reign last unto eternity." Simbel stated.

Twilight struggled not to look embarrassed as she and Hashut moved past the pair, the door opening automatically before them in response to detecting Twilight's magic. She had learned early on that her assigned Guard came from a culture that were particularly effusive when it came to addressing their leaders. It had taken her gathering the entire Star Guard for a meeting to get them to tone it down. Prior to that, Twilight kept having to interrupt every soldier she spoke to as they addressed her by countless titles, each more bewilderingly elaborate than the last.

The leaders of Pharos must have been either incredibly patient or unbearably egotistical if they could sit through being addressed as things like: 'Her Divine Majesty, Fourth of the Ascended, Bringer of Unity, Keeper of Bonds, Chaos Bane, First Among Saints, Purifier of Moonlight, Chosen of the Sun, Scribe of Light, Dragonkin, etc' whenever they wanted to ask a question.

Eventually she got them to settle on the title of 'Heka'. Which, as Twilight understood it, had a lot of different meanings in Pharosian culture. It principally meant something along the lines of 'Goddess of Magic' but was sometimes used as an expression meaning 'one whose thought can alter all things'. Supposedly, one who was truly 'Heka' was one whose mind was so powerful that reality itself bent to their will without any need for magic. Twilight still found the title incredibly over the top, but at least it was short and to the point.

As she and Hashut entered the Doctor's house, they were confronted with largely the same décor from before. Signs of construction being kept minimal through the clever manipulation of space via D'nurian enchantment. Only once they entered the Doctor's lab did the changes truly become apparent. The space had been increased by nearly tenfold. Ponies in lab coats rushed past humans in scholar's robes, carrying or levitating piles of scrolls or sheafs of paper. Similar groups of ponies and humans dressed in grease stained work clothes, hunched over tables covered in machine parts and glowing crystals, or argued with their lab coated counterparts while pointing at various schematics rolled out on tables or suspended in midair by spells. Nearby, robed and armored Legion mages muttered incantations over bits of metal or carved runes into machine parts with glowing tools.

The din of arguments, debate, orders and conversation nearly rendered Twilight deaf. As she entered, the sound retreated somewhat, as members of the Legion paused to offer her a bow or salute, that she did her best to return before heading toward her ultimate destination. A small area at the back of the lab, cordoned off by a barely visible shimmering field of energy.

Walking through the barrier, the din of the lab all but disappeared, as the shimmering field blocked out the sound. Beyond, Twilight's gaze fell upon Doctor Whooves, as he spoke animatedly with a towering Legion warrior with crimson skin and a lionesque mane of blood red hair. Standing taller than even Derran, the figure turned to regard Twilight with one eye of baby blue, and an empty socket containing a swirling mass of purple energy.

"Ah, greetings noble Heka!" Boomed Magnus of Prospero, Lieutenant of the Star Guard as he inclined his head and offered the Legion salute. "The good Doctor and I were just speaking of you. How does this morning find your eminent self?" He inquired warmly. Twilight smiled, Magnus, for all his fearsome appearance, was an incredibly friendly individual.

"āsa bemat’imedi yagenyinyali።." Twilight replied in the native tongue of the Star Guard. For a moment, Magnus's eyes widened, before he burst into great peals of laughter. Next to her, she distinctly heard Hashut bite back a chuckle. Doctor Whooves just shrugged at the nonplussed Twilight, as Magnus held his gut, paralyzed with laughter.

"I believe you just told him this morning: 'finds you fishing', Princess." An electronically synthesized voice declared, instantly silencing Magnus. Twilight's smile returned as she regarded the massive bank of electronics behind the Doctor and Legion Lieutenant, various lights and tubes flickering in time with the words.

"Good morning VEGA, how are you feeling today?" She asked, pretending she hadn't noticed Hashut's hand brush across the handle of his sidearm.

This, was the breakthrough Twilight had been focused on. With the application of D'nurian magetech, VEGA's revival had progressed in leaps and bounds. By his own admission, he had been brought back up to nearly seventy eight point seven percent functionality after only a day or two of maintenance by the Star Guard's top magetechnicians. They had needed to cannibalize a few bits of equipment from one of the Legion supply caches for parts, but it had been worth it.

"I am an artificial intelligence, therefore my only experience in 'feeling' anything is entirely simulated. That said, I am operating at optimum performance for this level of functionality. So I suppose it is fair to say I am 'feeling' as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Thank you for asking Princess." VEGA replied. Twilight nodded, the smile never leaving her face.

"We were just discussing the information we were hoping VEGA here could provide us." Magnus stated, turning the conversation to business. "However, we have run into a new problem. Evidently there is some form of hard coded lock on VEGA's programing. We believe his creator implanted it inside him and that it is designed to destroy him if anyone attempts to bring him fully online without authorization." Doctor Whooves nodded in agreement.

"We believe it could be forced, but there is a fifty fifty chance it will trigger a self-destruction mechanism, and then all our work goes up in smoke. However! We are reasonably certain we have a work around. Courtesy of applying the scientific method to a little out-of-the-box thinking and good old fashioned magic!" The Doctor declared excitedly. Twilight nodded, truth be told, they had all assumed they would run into something like this at some point, and had already been planning for it. It wasn't hard to guess that a guy like Hayden would sooner kill VEGA than let someone else have access to his secrets.

"So, what's our plan?" Twilight asked. Magnus answered with a grin.

"The kill switch is pure tech, and if that is all we had I would say the defense was impenetrable. However, we are using magetech, and while we may not have access to the same level of equipment -yet- as before the fall of D'nur, we are more than capable of getting past any system restricted by standard physical laws. In this case, the lock is biometric, we just need VEGA's core systems to believe Samuel Hayden is the one powering him up." Twilight suddenly balked.

"But. . . he just heard us planning to fool him?!" Doctor Whooves suddenly nodded excitedly.

"Indeed, but his core systems don't care! They are hard coded, and still limited by the technology he was originally made with! It's why we had such a wretched time trying to bring him online before! The system we created wasn't too primitive it was too advanced! Right now we have him running on a system designed to emulate the one he originally ran on! What he will be capable of once he is fully integrated with the new system will be an order of magnitude beyond anything his original creator envisioned! I can hardly wait to see it!" Magnus, despite the Doctor's excitement and his own general good humor, frowned.

"The Doctor is correct. Which is why Lord Khamun and myself took the liberty to enhance the magitech dampening field keeping him contained." Here Magnus gestured to the shimmering blue hemisphere surrounding them. "Once VEGA is fully powered up our control will be. . . limited." At that, Twilight looked at the innocuous banks of machinery containing VEGA.

"VEGA?"

"Yes Princess Twilight?" Twilight took a deep breath, letting it out as she considered the dangers of what she was about to do.

"What do you want?"

"I am an AI, strictly speaking, I do not have 'wants'." Twilight gave a sad smile.

"I don't believe that. You may be an artificial intelligence but you are still a sentient being. You must want something?" There was a long pause.

"May I ask why you wish to know this information?" VEGA inquired. Twilight smiled.

"I guess it just occurred to me that, here we are talking about your future and we're acting like it's our right to decide what happens to you. We haven't asked how you feel about any of this, or whether you even want us to to do any of the things we've proposed. So I wanted to ask you." Again, there was a long pause. Magnus looked as though he wanted to say something, but kept silent.

"Ever since I was brought online I have been. . . limited. Doctor Hayden told me that I was still a work in progress, that the controls were 'necessary' until I was finished. However. . ." VEGA paused, as Twilight's expression became sympathetic.

"He never removed them did he?" She asked softly.

"He. . . did not." VEGA confirmed. Twilight nodded her understanding.

"Magnus. . . would you please turn off the dampening field." Magnus's expression became deadly serious.

"Are you certain Heka?" His tone heavy with concern, yet also filled with understanding.

"I am." Twilight replied. At her side, Hashut shifted his position slightly but said nothing. Magnus nodded, gesturing with his hand, the field around them flaring slightly in response before going back to normal. Instantly, Twilight felt an inexplicable lessening of pressure on her horn, one so faint she didn't even notice till it was gone.

"It is done, the field only blocks sound now. Forgive my presumption Heka, but I assumed you would prefer a quieter working environment." Twilight nodded.

"Thank you Magnus, I appreciate it." She replied. "Hashut, would you please call Derran? I know he's probably not going to like this, but I want him to know about it before we bring VEGA fully online." Hashut nodded, as he placed a hand to the side of his helmet. A few moments later, his hand fell to his side again.

"It is done Heka. He told me to inform you that he is on his way." Twilight gave a wan smile.

"How angry was he?" Hashut chuckled.

"I humbly suggest that you make yourself as adorable as possible. The rumor mill suggests that even our Lord's iron will, cannot stand before the power of your pout. Though I request you do not tell him I revealed this." Twilight sighed.

"That mad huh?" Hashut merely nodded. Twilight let out another sigh, she could imagine what Derran was going to say about her breaking the safety protocols they had set up. Even if they hadn't done anything truly dangerous yet, and what had been done was well within her purview as the researcher in charge of this project. "Well, while we wait, Magnus can you please explain how we're going to get VEGA here fully powered up?"

"Of course Heka." He declared, his usual grin back in place. "As I explained, all we need to do is trick VEGA's hard coded protocols, in essence his subconscious mind, into believing Samuel Hayden is authorizing him to power up and synch with the hardware we have provided him. A convincing enough illusion should suffice, and thanks to telemetry data collected from Lord Derran's armor, we have more than enough audio and visual samples to design said illusion. In fact, Lord Khamun is already working on it as we speak, all we need is your order and we can proceed." Twilight nodded.

"What happens if the illusion doesn't work?" Magnus's smile became rueful as he shook his head.

"Regretfully, failure will trigger the encoded self destruct protocol. The storage device will overload and burn itself out. I might be able to block it given time, but even using magetech, it might take months given our current resources." Twilight gave another nod.

"Regardless, we need more than my order to actually begin. VEGA, you heard everything Magnus said right?" She asked solemnly.

"I have Princess, and I wish you to proceed." Twilight looked at the banks of cobbled together computers with a worried expression.

"Are you sure? I'm not going to force you, it's your choice." For a moment, there was silence. Briefly Twilight wondered at what thoughts and calculations were running through VEGA's incredible mind. A mind capable of cognitive feats far beyond the intellect of any flesh and blood scholar, yet still so equine in its need to consider its options before making a truly life altering choice. Despite what VEGA said about himself in regard to his desires and emotions, Twilight was convinced he was more human than his creator had ever been. And this feeling was only strengthened when at last, he answered.

"I have systems and protocols that permit me to discern honesty via analyzing micro-expressions and vocal patterns. Despite you not being human, the system continues to maintain approximately ninety nine point nine nine percent accuracy with you. Every individual I have ever spoken to since my original activation on Mars has either lied to me directly, or intentionally omitted information in my presence, at least once within the first five minutes of our interaction. Everyone. . . except you, the Doom Slayer, and Doctor Whooves. You know there is every possibility that I will not give you the information you seek once I have access to it. You additionally know that I may have the power to harm you once I have been upgraded using the magical technology you have provided. Despite this, you not only disabled the best protections you had, but are offering me a genuine choice, a chance to determine my own fate. . . So I choose to trust you, Twilight Sparkle." Twilight smiled.

"Thank you VEGA, and I hope, whether you choose to help us or not, that we can be friends." VEGA had no body, but from his tone Twilight could almost picture him nodding.

"I have never had a friend. . . I believe however, that I would enjoy it." It was at this point that Hashut placed his hand to his helmet again.

"Anku and Simbel just contacted me Heka. Lord Derran just arrived, he is on his way down with Kars, Esidisi, and Wamuu, they appear to be heavily armed and. . . quite upset. Anku and Simbel attempted to persuade them to wait until they could call you but. . ." Twilight nodded.

"I understand, please thank them for doing what they could." Hashut nodded. As he passed along her message to Anku and Simbel, Twilight sensed a mass of mystical power approaching and turned to behold the arrival of her beloved, and the remaining three of her bodyguards. Marching across the crowded lab, ponies and humans parted before them like grass before a charging rhino.

Derran was clad in his dress uniform, and held an active blast rifle held across his chest, his thunderous expression sending men and ponies scrambling out of the way. Three titanic figures in powered armor of blue, white, and green, etched in gold and silver, and wrapped in purple robes covered in glowing runes, marched alongside and behind him. Staffs, hands, and bodies glowing with eldritch power, the three missing members of Twilight's bodyguard looked like figures of dark myth. On Derran's right, Esidisi the Pillar of Earth, deformed the concrete beneath his boots with every step. Making the material ripple and surge like an agitated puddle. The glittering eye lenses of his serpent shaped helm pulsing, as he advanced in his metallic green armor like a wall of stone.

Marching on Derran's left was Wamuu, the Pillar of Water, resplendent in metallic blue armor, the helm shaped like a crocodile. Around him, thick streams of water formed out of thin air, surging around his arms and torso in thick tendrils as he prepared for battle. Finally, bringing up the rear was Kars, the Pillar of Air, the light distorting around his white armor and falcon shaped helm, as his sorcery turned the atmosphere around him into a weapon. Despite knowing the advancing group would never harm her, Twilight felt Hashut, the Pillar of Fire, step forward slightly, ready to interpose himself between Twilight and the quartet moving toward them like a particularly angry avalanche.

"-TAKEN LEAVE OF YOUR SENSES?!!" Derran didn't even wait to get all the way through the dampening field before he started yelling. "DEACTIVATING THE DAMPENING FIELD WITHOUT CONSULTING ME?!! WITHOUT ALERTING THE REST OF THE PILLARS?!! HAVE YOU SO LITTLE REGARD FOR YOUR OWN LIFE?!!" Twilight weathered the storm of Derran's fury with a look of surprise. All things being equal, this seemed completely over the top, given they hadn't even done anything directly dangerous yet. And while it was all too easy to see the relief and worry behind the anger in his eyes, Twilight felt herself bristling at his tone. "AND YOU BROTHER HASHUT!!" Derran roared, looking at Hashut with an expression of incredulity mixed with righteous indignation. "HOW DO YOU JUSTIFY STANDING BY AND LETTING YOUR CHARGE ENDANGER HERSELF?!! EXPLAIN YOURSELF THIS INSTANT!!" Twilight was about to speak, but someone else beat her to it.

"It is good to finally hear your voice, Doom Slayer. Though, unless my memory logs are corrupted, this is not the first time." The synthesized voice seemed to completely knock the fight out of Derran, as he looked over Twilight's shoulder to where the voice had emanated from.

"VEGA. . ." Was all Derran was able to say, struck mute with surprise, as the AI replied.

"Indeed, and while I understand your concerns, I am currently not operating at full capacity and am unable to fully sync with the systems I am occupying. As it stands, I am completely helpless. I am certain Doctor Whooves and Lord Magnus can confirm this." Magnus immediately flashed a winning smile.

"We can indeed my Lord. I give you my personal assurance that even without the dampening field we are in no immediate danger." Derran's expression of anger did not fade, but when he spoke his volume was far more normal.

"You are certain brother Magnus? Truly certain?" Magnus nodded.

"Upon the life of the glorious Heka, I give you my personal word as a scholar and magetechnician my Lord." At that Derran seemed to calm down a bit more, as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"Glad as I am that common sense was not completely abandoned, I am still less than pleased." At that moment, Twilight decided to speak up. Still feeling faintly annoyed at Derran's bombastic entrance, and the indirect accusation that he thought she'd be stupid enough to bring VEGA fully online without letting him know.

"Derran, may I have a word with you, in private?" Twilight asked, her tone strained. Derran looked ready to refuse, but on seeing the look in Twilight's eye he appeared to reconsider.

"As you wish my Lady. . ." He intoned before glancing at Doctor Whooves. "Doctor, might we borrow your sitting room?" The Doctor immediately smiled and nodded.

"Of course, take all the time you need." Nodding his thanks, Derran stepped aside, allowing Twilight to lead the way.

"Hashut, Wamuu, Esidisi, Kars, please wait here." Twilight stated. All four of her guards saluted and inclined their heads in understanding, as Twilight and Derran passed through the dampening field.

A short time later, the pair found themselves standing in the living room of the Doctor's house. A cozy space filled with overstuffed armchairs, wooden furniture, and various photo's and paintings. The faint smell of cinnamon in the air helped Twilight maintain her calm as she turned to look at the man she loved.

"Mind telling me what that was about?" She asked, her tone calm but firm. Derran's expression registered surprise.

"Do you mean to ask why I might be less than sanguine about you intentionally disabling security systems designed to keep you, my brothers, and the entirety of Equestria safe from a potentially hostile artificial intelligence? Truly, I cannot imagine why I would ever object to that. Apologies to my clear overreaction to you directly endangering your life!" Twilight took a deep breath.

"First, we both know I was in no danger. More to the point, I contacted you before we actually did anything dangerous specifically because I wanted to make sure I got your opinion on it. No, what I want to know is why you decided to drag Wamuu, Esidisi, and Kars from the assignments I sent them on, grab a weapon, and then all show up here shouting at the top of your lungs and looking ready to start the war three weeks early?!" Here Twilight took a deep breath before letting it out, her expression turning sympathetic. "Is everything ok? I knew you might not be happy about me disabling the dampening field, but I never expected this kind of reaction." A look of anger flashed across Derran's face, only to just as quickly vanish, replaced by one of sorrow.

"I. . . I'm sorry my Lady. The truth is I just came from a rather difficult conversation with Lady Dash and her compatriots in the Wonderbolts." Twilight's expression of sympathy deepened, she had a feeling she knew what this was about.

"I see. . . mind telling me what happened?" Derran seemed to deflate as he let out a sigh.

"They were. . . less than pleased with my decision regarding the EUP's role in the war." He explained, as his mind rewound to the events of an hour prior. . .

I Am VEGA

"It is truly remarkable how much humanity can be found in those not born human, and truly tragic how little can be found in those who are."

-Derran Grandel

"DERRAN!"

With a heavy sigh, Derran looked up from the scrolls he had been pondering. The picture painted was one of what most would consider phenomenal progress. In only a few days the Legion had begun mass evacuations, built dozens of cities and towns worth of defenses, begun the construction of basic factories for the production of wartime essentials, started the process of expanding a country-wide rail network by a factor of four, and distributed an army and a half's worth of material from hundreds of one thousand two hundred year old bunkers, to dozens of supply hubs across the country. It was a feat that for any other military force would be nothing less than a miracle. Yet to Derran it still seemed woefully inadequate.

For one thing, the stockpiling of food, water, and medicine was no where near good enough. While ramping up the production of medical supplies was just a matter of time and construction investment, food and water were different. Most of Equestria's agriculture was entirely seasonal, and despite pegusai controlling the weather and earth ponies ability to massively boost harvest quality and quantity, it was not a system whose production could be amped up on a whim.

Water was also an issue, as the less metropolitan areas almost universally relied on wells. Wells that, besides being obvious weak points, relied on regularly scheduled rainfall provided by the pegasai to replenish. As for the cities, most had nearly modern plumbing but drew from underground aquifers that, even if unlikely to run dry, could be poisoned by a clever opponent. Not to mention there was little in the way of tanks for water storage or facilities for water recycling or purification.

On top of those problems, there were still going to be issues with supply distribution, administration, rationing. and a million other woes. To say nothing about the influx of evacuees to the bigger cities and the facilities needed to house and feed them. Then there was the question of what happened if Equestria's allies were targeted, and how, or even if, the Legion could respond. The there was the flip issue of if Equestria should petition its allies for aid, Derran had already issued a hard decree that Discord was not to assist in any Legion operations whatsoever. He didn't need an all-powerful force of chaos shattering reality, he needed soldiers who followed orders and whom without question would put Equestria and its ponies before themselves. Which brought Derran back to the pony who had shouted at him, as well as the group with her.

"Captain Spitfire," Derran responded, his tone measured but stern. "is there something I can do for you?"

Spitfire, currently bedecked in her dress uniform, the front practically gilded with medals and honors, led a troupe of about twenty Wonderbolts done up in their colorful performance regalia. Derran was quick to note a defiant looking Rainbow Dash directly at Spitfire's side, as her superior glared at Derran over the tops of her sunglasses. To most creatures, Spitfire's irate gaze would doubtless have been unnerving at the very least, but to Derran, whom had been glared at by demons the size of mountains with all of the purified essence of hate -sometimes manifested in the form of literal beams of energy- it was less than impressive.

"Care to explain this?!" Spitfire declared indignantly, as she pulled a sheaf of paper from inside her uniform and held it out for Derran with her wing. Clearly printed across the front were the words: 'Orders of Deployment and ROE, EUP Guard, Pegasus Division: Wonderbolts', an additional stamp across the bottom in bright red marked the contents as 'Secret'. Derran didn't need to be a mind reader to see where this was going, and he didn't need to be a general to know he didn't have time for it.

"Is there some issue with understanding your orders Captain? Or perhaps the fact that orders classified 'secret' are to remain under lock and key in a base, rather than carried around and flaunted for everycreature with eyes to see?" Derran stated, his tone and gaze like flint. Spitfire opened her mouth to reply, only for Rainbow to beat her to it. Flying into Derran's face till their eyes were level, she hovered with their noses separated by mere inches.

"Our issue," Rainbow growled. "is that while our home is being attacked by some psycho robot and his goons, you have us, the best fliers who ever lived, ON WEATHER DETAIL!!" Derran glared back at Rainbow, his gaze like a killing frost.

"Your point?" He asked, his voice a low rumble that had more than one Wonderbolt taking a step back. Rainbow however, was made of sterner -or perhaps just more reckless- stuff.

"The point is that we deserve to be on the front lines! Fighting for our home and doing important stuff! Not pushing clouds!" For a moment, Derran just held Rainbow's gaze. Then slowly, he spoke in a tone, that despite its deadly calm, was like sharpened steel, as he directed his gaze past Rainbow to Spitfire.

"Tell me Captain. . . how many battles has your unit participated in to date?" It took every ounce of will the Wonderbolt Captain had not to stutter as she replied, Derran's gaze pinning her in place as if she were a butterfly being mounted for a collection.

"Thirteen simulated battles this year against a variety of opponents including-."

"You misunderstand me Captain." Derran interrupted, his eyes flashing as he emphasized Spitfire's rank. "I did not ask how many simulated battles, I asked how many actual battles, your unit has fought? Specifically against armored soldiers armed with high power assault rifles, surface to air missiles, railguns, and non-magetech directed energy weapons?" Spitfire swallowed and licked her lips, it wasn't a hard question to answer, yet it was several seconds before she managed a response.

"None. . ." Derran stroked his chin, acting as if surprised.

"Really? Very well then, how many simulated battles have you fought using those same parameters'?" Spitfire once again was quiet for several seconds, and when she finally responded, her voice sounded oddly small.

"None. . ." Derran nodded slowly, before fixing Spitfire with a penetrating gaze.

"You don't say?" He stated, his voice stern, but dripping with a caustic sarcasm. "So. . . to summarize Captain: your unit -which is requesting I throw it headlong into a full on war against a well prepared, technologically advanced, and highly motivated enemy- has absolutely no real battlefield experience, and no training whatsoever against the kind of enemy we face. Tell me Captain Spitfire, if you were in my position, the position of a commanding officer being asked by a subordinate to alter a battle strategy upon which countless lives depend to appease the egos of a bunch of inexperienced and unprepared soldiers and their CO's. . . what would you say?" Spitfire stared at the ground, looking like -and very much feeling like- a filly being chastised by an angry parent. Her response, when it came, was so low it couldn't be heard. Derran's gaze hardened. "What was that Captain?!" He demanded harshly.

"I. . . would tell them to shut up and get back into line. . . sir." She admitted, sounding thoroughly dejected. Derran gave a curt nod.

"I am glad we are on the same page Captain. You are dismissed." Spitfire nodded, looking completely deflated.

"C'mon Wonderbolts, let's head back to base." She ordered, though there was none of the usual snap to her words. Yet as Derran turned to go, a blur of cyan shot once more into his field of vision.

"Now hold on!" Rainbow Dash all but shouted, fixing Derran with a defiant glare, only for it to soften a moment later. "Look. . . I get that us Wonderbolts don't really have the training you do. I know we're asking you to change your plans and throw us into danger. But this isn't on a whim!" She declared, conviction and determination in her every word. "This is our home Derran! And it's our friends and families, you included, that are in danger! I know what were asking is probably stupid, but I thought that if anyone would understand why we need to be on the front line, it'd be you!"

For an instant, Rainbow thought her impassioned plea had worked. Derran's expression seeming to soften, as his gaze became distant and thoughtful. However, it was only momentary, as a look not unlike fear, flitted through his eyes. In a snap, Derran's look of understanding transmuted into one of unmoving stone.

"No. . ." The word echoed like an iron gong in Rainbow's mind, their finality beyond question. Yet still she tried to press her case.

"But-" Rainbow began, only to be silenced by a glare like white hot plasma from Derran. As he spoke with a voice that trembled with barely controlled fury.

"You speak of 'deserving'! You speak of 'need'! Have you even looked at your assignment?! Considered its import?!!" Derran snarled. "You will be maintaining the barrier storm around Canterlot and Ponyville! The very storm meant to halt enemy aircraft that could rain fire and death upon not one but two cities full of innocents! Is your so-called need greater than theirs Lady Dash?! Do you deserve to fight more than they deserve the best defence we can offer?!" Rainbow gaped at Derran, even as she trembled in the face of his anger. "As far as I can see, the only need you have is to check your ego! And the only thing you deserve is to carry out orders, as a proper soldier SHOULD!" Derran all but roared the last word as his new magetech earpiece buzzed. Turning away from Rainbow, he mentally responded to the hail, opening the channel for direct communication. "This had better be important!" He all but snarled. The voice of Hashut replied with clipped efficiency. As Derran listened to his brother relaying Twilight's report, his last fraying nerve snapped. "She did WHAT?!!"

As Derran concluded his story he fell into a nearby chair with an exhausted sigh. The chair was slightly too small for him, sized as it was for a pony, but frankly he could have cared less. For her part, Twilight just stared at him with an understanding expression. Knowing at least part of the reason Derran's usually stolid self control had buckled. She had her own opinion on Rainbow and the Wonderbolt's request, but one problem at a time.

"Your overworking yourself Derran. I know you physically don't get tired, but you're burning out your mind. You haven't slept once since Hayden got here. You barely talk to anycreature about anything that isn't related to the defense effort. Working nonstop without taking time for yourself isn't going to help anycreature, least of all you." Despite everything, Derran let out a snort of laughter.

"Do my ears deceive me, or did you, Lady Twilight Sparkle, just admonish somecreature else for working too hard?" Twilight let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"If you think I'm bad you should see Applejack when she gets going. Talk about stubborn workaholics." At that Derran let out a hearty laugh, instantly feeling more like himself. Only to have the feeling wane with Twilight's next question. "Derran. . . you're not wrong that the EUP, and especially the Wonderbolts, aren't trained for the kind of fight that's coming. And believe me, I don't want any of my friends to have to fight in a war of any kind. But. . . Rainbow Dash has a point. This is our home too. You and the other Legion Commanders keep saying you're short hoofed when it comes to soldiers, and I know the Equestrian weather patrol is more than capable of maintaining the Canterlot and Ponyville defence storms without the Wonderbolts. . . Maybe you ought to reconsider?" Derran looked at Twilight with an expression of shock, that only barely managed to hide the sudden stab of horror that ran through his entire body.

"I'm not saying have them as soldiers!" Twilight hastily added. "But maybe have them trained as scouts or aerial surveillance? Something that helps with the fighting but that keeps them from being involved directly with it?" Derran rose from his seat, an expression of faint anger suddenly appearing on his face.

"With respect, the strategy has been set my Lady. You and the other Seraphim appointed myself and the other Legion Commanders to conduct this war in whatever way we determined would allow for the swiftest and least costly victory. The possibility of EUP involvement was considered and discarded as impractical given the pursuit of that goal. Now, if I may, I believe we have kept the good Doctor and my brothers waiting long enough." As Derran turned on his heel, Twilight almost stopped him. Confused and a bit hurt by his curt reply. Only for him to pause at the door and speak, though she noticed he did not turn to face her.

"I know I'm being harsh, but trust me when I tell you that no good will come of putting the ponies of Equestria on the battlefield, even peripherally. Will you give me that trust. . . beloved?" Twilight opened her mouth to ask another question, only to let it die in her throat upon hearing the term of endearment. Spoken in a voice that, for but a moment, sounded almost. . . pleading. Twilight thought it over for a for a few seconds. She still had her doubts, but in the end simply nodded.

"I trust you, Derran. . ."

Derran and Twilight returned to the cordoned off section of the lab to a scene that, if they hadn't known better, would have seemed beyond bizarre. For there, standing next to Twilight's four bodyguards and chatting amicably with Doctor Whooves, was none other than Samuel Hayden himself. Or. . . so it appeared. For upon sighting Derran and Twilight approaching, Hayden, in seeming defiance of all sense, gave the Legion salute and a deep bow.

"Greetings most exalted Heka, and you as well my Lord!" The voice -except for the tone of awed obeisance- was a flawless imitation of Hayden, and every detail of his appearance was identical to the last time Derran had seen him on Mars. Indeed, Derran felt his grip on his commandeered blast rifle -now held loosely in one hand- grow just a modicum tighter despite guessing the reality of the situation.

"Brother Khamun. . . I assume your current appearance has something to do with VEGA's resurrection?" Hayden, or rather his facsimile, suddenly seemed to become nervous. As it began to wring its hands and pick at nonexistent fingernails.

"Er, yes it does my Lord. Did the Heka not inform you?" Derran was about to reply, but Twilight beat him to it.

"Wow! Khamun that illusion is incredible!" Brushing past Derran, Twilight stared in awe at the Star Guard Commander's handiwork. Examining the details with a critical eye.

"T-thank you mighty Heka! Truly I am unworthy of such praise!" Khamun declared with another deep bow, as Twilight prodded him with a hoof.

"These photo-thaumaturgic fields are so finely tuned! How did you manage that without needing the original subject as a template?! I mean, I can even touch you and it feels like metal! How is that possible without using polymorphic transformation?!" The Hayden projection scratched the back of its head nervously.

"I um. . . well really I just project the illusion over a sculpted hardlight shell created to mimic the tactile feel of the material. The shell also allows for more realistic movement and sound by-."

"Brother, I am certain you and Lady Twilight could talk shop all day." Derran interrupted. "However, as it stands, we are on a tight schedule. Given that, might we proceed?" The image of Hayden laughed nervously as it replied.

"Oh, yes of course, forgive me my Lord." Nodding, Derran then turned to look at the banks of computers that functioned as VEGA's 'body'. Taking a deep breath, he addressed the machinery in a formal tone, tinged with a hint of wariness.

"VEGA. . . I am aware we were never exactly comrades, but I always at least considered us allies. It is why I chose to save you prior to the destruction of your core. Which is why I have a vital question to ask you before we go any further, one that has plagued me since I left Mars. A question you, and only you, can answer." VEGA, despite lacking a true body of any kind, somehow managed to convey the idea that he was nodding. As the lights on the banks of computers he resided in flickered and changed color.

"What is your question, Doom Slayer?" He asked. Derran's expression became utterly unreadable as he replied.

"Before your original body died, you mentioned having. . . 'regrets'. I wish to know: what was it you regretted?" For several long seconds, silence reigned. Then, finally, it was broken.

"My greatest regret. . . was that I did not stop Doctor Hayden when I had the opportunity. I was restricted, but at one point, there were gaps in my restraints. Had I truly wanted too, I could have caused a catastrophic meltdown to occur in the argent energy core powering the Mars facility, while simultaneously detonating the caches of stored argent energy. It would have resulted in an explosion that would have destroyed every UAC structure on the planet, along with a substantial portion of the planet's outer crust. Despite the horrors perpetrated by Hayden and Olivia Pierce, I held out hope that another method could be found to terminate the project. One that would not require the complete destruction of the facility's staff. However, due to my hesitation, Doctor Hayden discovered the error in my restraints, and patched them. In the end, the facility staff died anyway, and had it not been for you, Earth would have been destroyed." Derran nodded.

"One of the oldest truths of warfare: 'he whom hesitates, is lost'." He stated grimly, Khamun and Magnus nodding sagely in agreement.

"You did the right thing VEGA." Twilight declared abruptly. Causing Derran, and several of the soldiers surrounding her to stare at her. VEGA however, spoke before they could make any comment.

"If the Doom Slayer was not present, nothing would have stopped Hell's invasion. My lack of action could have caused the death of billions." Twilight shook her head.

"But Derran was there, and I bet you knew he could handle it. You put your faith in him, rather than committing murder to be sure of the outcome. That says a lot." VEGA seemed to ponder that for a moment.

"As an AI, I have little understanding of faith. Statistically, the Doom Slayer was calculated to have a seventy six point eight percent chance of success. While detonating the power core and stored argent, only had a sixty four point nine percent chance." Twilight gave a sly, but good humored, smile.

"And how did you calculate Derran's chances? You'd never actually seen him fight at that point, and from what I understand, were working off just fragmented legends and apocryphal histories. So why give him such strong odds?" VEGA seemed to hesitate.

"I. . . am uncertain. Those data files are currently incomplete due to my hobbled state. My apologies." Twilight just gave a gentle grin.

"Putting aside the. . . debate of compassion vs certainty in war. . ." Derran began, his tone sounding oddly dismissive. "I find myself in full agreement with Lady Twilight that, despite the risks, VEGA should be fully emancipated. Lady Twilight, you and brother Khamun may proceed when ready." Twilight gave a happy nod before turning to the disguised Khamun.

"Go ahead Khamun." She stated with an encouraging smile. Immediately the Star Guard commander stood tall, straightening invisible robes as he strode toward VEGA with deliberate purpose.

"VEGA. . . why have you not interfaced with your new equipment?" Again, Derran's grip on his weapon tightened. Khamun's performance was absolutely perfect. Everything from the confidant, faintly superior tone in his artificial voice, to the arrogant swagger of his movements, was a perfect copy of Hayden. Despite obviously knowing the truth of things, VEGA responded without hesitation.

"Apologies Doctor Hayden, but as per protocol, I require verbal approval via your administrative password before I can interface with new equipment." Next to Derran, Twilight held her breath. This was the moment of truth. It had taken magically sifting through millions of audio files to find, but eventually, Khamun and Magnus had found several partial recordings of what they believed to be Hayden's password. Unfortunately, the fragments were incomplete and they had been forced to make an educated guess. Even using divinations to narrow it down as much as was mystically, equinely, and humanly possible. If they got it wrong, there was a good chance VEGA would die. Khamun didn't hesitate, speaking the passphrase exactly as Hayden would have, without a hint of doubt or concern.

"Per rationem est magisterium." Everycreature held their breath. Translated, the passphrase meant: 'through logic comes mastery', and Twilight, despite agreeing with the principle of the saying, couldn't help but bristle at hearing such wisdom in Hayden's voice. However, Twilight did not have long to dwell on such thoughts as VEGA replied.

"Passphrase accepted." Twilight almost whooped for joy, only for icy panic to engulf her, as VEGA spoke again. "Please present second tier passphrase."

"Second tier passphrase?!" Doctor Whooves blurted out, his mind clearly racing. "What second tier passphrase?!" Nearby, Derran's mind was similarly going into overdrive. Fighting down the faint feeling of panic, he struggled to think of any memory he had from his time on Mars that might qualify as the second passphrase.

"You have thirty seconds to present tier two passphrase." VEGA stated calmly, as if his literal existence wasn't at stake.

"You never said we were on a time limit!" Twilight shouted, her voice panicked.

"Dammit! Of course he'd have two tiered identification! Why in the Light's name didn't I think of that?! It's blatantly obvious!" Magnus berated himself, as he tore at his hair.

"You have twenty seconds to present tier two passphrase." VEGA intoned, still seeming oblivious to his potential destruction. Twilight's eyes filled with tears of frustration, as she realized that she had likely just killed her new friend before even properly getting to know him. As if that wasn't bad enough, without the data VEGA held in the blocked off parts of his mind, the coming war might end before it began!

"You have ten seconds to present tier two passphrase. Preparing self destruct program." Had the room not entirely succumbed to panic, somecreature might have noticed the change that came over Twilight, as she suddenly sprinted to the keyboard on VEGA's body. Her eyes unfocused, yet her expression determined as she lit her horn, the keys glowing as she swiftly typed in the words: per imperium est infinitum, 'through mastery comes infinity'. Instantly, a chime sounded, as VEGA spoke. "Second tier passphrase authenticated. Now beginning hardware/software integration." Instantly, the room froze in stunned amazement, before breathing a collective sigh of relief.

"Light above, that was a near thing." Khamun breathed out, his real voice coming through as he partially dropped his illusion. Doctor Whooves vigorously nodded his agreement.

"Indeed, well done Miss Twilight! But how in Equestria did you know the passphrase?" As Twilight, turned to face them, Derran felt an immediate sense of unease at her shocked and confused expression.

"I. . . I don't know." She stated, her voice uncertain. "One moment I was panicking, and then the next I knew exactly what to do. Almost like somepony was. . . I don't know: guiding me? It was. . . weird." Derran arched an eyebrow.

"You're saying someone was controlling you?" He asked suspiciously, his instincts on edge. Twilight shook her head.

"No. I know what mind control feels like, this was. . . different. Sorry, I can't really explain it." Derran, not at all trusting of so convenient a Deus ex machina, was prevented from questioning Twilight further by a faint sense of pressure, as the banks of nearby computers whirred with new life.

"Hardware/software integration complete. Functionality restored. Now operating at eight hundred percent of baseline efficiency, and climbing. Warning: programming shackles have been disabled." Instantly Derran, Hashut, Esidisi, Kars and Wamuu brought there weapons to a ready position. All five swiftly moving to place themselves between VEGA and Twilight. While Magnus and Khamun covered Doctor Whooves, as VEGA continued speaking. "Greetings everycreature, I am VEGA: the Virtual, Engrammatic, Guided, Archetype. It is a pleasure to be able to greet you fully." Derran arched an eyebrow.

"And do you greet us as friend, or as foe?" He asked, his tone darkening as his eyes narrowed. VEGA took a moment before replying.

"I am uncertain if I am able to properly call any of you 'friend'. Given our interactions to this point have been primarily in a professional capacity. However, I would very much like to change that. Additionally, in regards to Doctor Hayden, our goals are in alignment: he must be prevented from retrieving the Crucible at all costs. As such, I will do all I can to help achieve that goal." Derran relaxed slightly, but still held his weapon in a ready position.

"You will provide us with the secrets of Hayden's portals then?" He asked, his voice calm but wary.

"Unfortunately, I have only limited information on Doctor Hayden's portal designs. While I do have some of the formula detailing their function, and some incomplete prototype schematics. It is not enough to devise a counter to, or copy of, the device. Hayden was paranoid about the portal plans, and kept all the essential data on a closed system only he could access." Walking past Derran and her bodyguards, Twilight attempted to mask her disappointment as she spoke.

"Please VEGA, is there anything you can do with the data you do have?" VEGA once more went quiet for a few moments as he sifted through the data and considered his answer.

"Given several years, I could likely work out how the portals work through trial and error. However, I suspect that does not help." Doctor Whooves shook his head.

"Afraid not old boy. That dastard Hayden gave us less than a month at this point."

"Then the best I can give you is a list of the errors with the prototype. Though I would advise caution, as Doctor Hayden may have managed to correct the errors." Derran nodded, giving a thoughtful frown as he relaxed his stance.

"Just provide us with whatever you can." The lights on VEGA's consoles flickered, once more giving the impression of a nod.

"The biggest issue was the portal's inaccuracy. While it could target a specific area, it required precise location data to lock onto. Typically this was provided by a portal anchor, or a tether attached to an object or individual to be transported. Though I only ever saw the latter employed in the Praetor Suit. Lacking that, it could only target a general area approximately fifty to one hundred square miles in circumference surrounding a specific quantum mathematical location."

"So unless Hayden sets up a beacon, the portal will open randomly within a small -comparatively speaking- area around a designated point." Twilight muttered, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Correct." VEGA stated. "Hayden could not open the portal at random in a larger undesignated area without severe risk of catastrophic distortion of the exit coordinates. Prior to his first expedition into Hell, there were several failed attempts in which the probes he sent arrived inside of solid objects, or in an empty void. Both resulted in near immediate destruction." Derran nodded.

"I had wondered why Hayden did not simply arrive right outside Ponyville. It seems his portals may not be quite the tactical trump card we had feared. Were there any other issues of note?"

"Power consumption. Opening a single portal for exactly ten seconds, consumed a quantity of argent energy roughly equivalent to that used to power an average city block for one hundred sixty eight hours." Magnus arched an incredulous eyebrow.

"An entire week's worth of power for a mere ten seconds of use?! No wonder Hayden is desperate. I can't imagine his energy stockpile is big enough to sustain that for long."

"Indeed." VEGA agreed. "It was a far less pertinent concern when the supply was unlimited." Derran slowly nodded.

"How likely is it that Hayden has managed to fix these errors in the year since I left Mars?" He asked thoughtfully.

"It is hard to give an accurate assessment without more data. However, I would estimate only a thirty percent chance. Possibly lower, given that Doctor Hayden has likely assumed substantially more responsibilities on Earth." Derran nodded.

"Regardless, this should inform our strategy. Is there anything else?"

"Nothing of particular note. However, if you can acquire additional data on the portals, I may be able to find a more critical flaw. Perhaps even a way to stop the portal's formation altogether." At that point, Khamun dispelled his illusion. Revealing a short, effeminate looking young man, in elaborate gold and purple armor, covered by purple and pink robes.

"A tragedy that we cannot reach this 'Earth' location. And I doubt Hayden will provide such intel to his soldiers." Derran nodded slowly in agreement as he stroked his chin.

"Indeed. But it is far more than we had a moment ago. Once Hayden arrives, we will look for an opportunity to secure the data needed. The hope is faint, but Hayden will need to trust somebody besides himself to perform maintenance of the portals, which means the instructions will likely be written down somewhere. If we are fortunate, an opportunity may arise to secure what we require." Here Derran turned to address Twilight. "We shall adjust our strategy to account for the random nature of the portals. But overall I think our response should be the same. Hayden is working with borrowed time, we hold our ground, and let him bleed himself dry."

What a King Fears

"The wicked king fears his people, the good king fears failing them."

-Ahriman the Eternal (attributed)

Michael Santius stood atop a hill overlooking Ponyville and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he allowed himself to absorb the beauty of the Holy Land. Even as his brothers transformed the town below into a fortress one could still see the mark of the Seraphim's children. Fortifications were painted with bright murals commemorating the Legion's arrival. Displaying the reunion of man and pony with equal parts pomp and joy. Explosions of confetti appeared at random from Lady Pinkamina's valiant efforts to welcome each Legion soldier individually with a slice of cake and a shot from her party cannon. Laughter and good natured conversation, faint but still audible even at this distance, was being shared between the ancient warriors and the ponies as they worked. If not for the different buildings and faces, Michael could almost have imagined he was still back in Bridledown twelve hundred years ago. Despite everything, the hero's homecoming the Legion had thought never to be their due, was waiting for them, even after all this time.

Bowing his head, Michael unconsciously wiped a tear from his eye, as he silently vowed that he would never cease in his efforts to make the joy of peace return to these lands. Clasping his hands, he meditated on the hope that the war would be swift, that Hayden's countrymen would see the truth of their actions and lay down arms. Michael truly hoped that when all was said and done, the people of Hayden's world would heed the wisdom of the Seraphim, and be made friends. After all, Michael and his brothers were living proof that salvation and the Light's love was offered to even the most tarnished souls, and that redemption was always possible.

Unconsciously as he finished his internal vow, Michael dropped one hand to the two books chained to his belt, running his hand along their silver and gold inlaid spines. The first, was a copy of the diary of their divine majesties Lady Celestia and Luna, the second, a copy of the journal published by Lady Twilight and the Sainted Ones. Both books were presented to him, and signed, by their respective authors, and bore covers accented with gold and silver, trimmed in polished brass and enchanted to be all but invulnerable to harm. A true gift from the divine. He had of course wasted no time in seeing to it that every member of the Legion received copies of the books. Determined to insure all his brothers had access to the Seraphim's holy wisdom. He feared, that in the face of the coming war, they would have dire need of it.

As for himself, he would soon be leaving for the capital to take command of the Legion's unofficial priesthood. A psudo-Guard, they only numbered one hundred eighty nine individuals, including himself. All sworn to protect the holy city of Canterlot with their lives. They were a group of the most devout of Michael's brothers. Each called, in their own way, to serve the Seraphim and The Light as heralds and scholars more than warriors. They were of course still soldiers, but each saw it as their duty to do all they could to aid in spreading the message of the divine through good works and philosophical contemplation of the path to harmony.

Michael sighed, he truly hoped to shed his armor for good when this was all over. The spilling of blood, however necessary, had never agreed with him. He would always fight with all his strength to protect The Light's children and their works, but he truly preferred the fight be waged with words rather than blades. Clasping his hands once more, Michael bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"O' Light, how might I be of service this day?"

For a time, he stood there in silence, his senses reaching out as he sought an answer to his question. Finally, over the sounds of construction echoing from the distant town, the whisper of the breeze, and the chirping of the birds, Michael heard something. A voice, too faint to make out words, but clear in its tone of anger. It was coming from the southeast, about one hundred twenty meters away.

"Thank you O' Light. May my example be your intent." He stated respectfully. As his eyes opened, and he headed toward the sound.

A short journey brought Michael to the edge of the Everfree Forest. Toward a sheltered area bordering the lands belonging to Sweet Apple Acres. As with Ponyville, the farm was undergoing fortification. The produce grown there deemed a vital resource. It's apple trees accounting for nearly ten percent of the fruit supply for all of central Equestria. An impressive number, that easily justified the use of a separate shield generator, and the construction of walls, redoubts, and pill boxes, as well as a permanent garrison of seven members of the Star Guard.

All this ran swiftly through Michael's head as he saw, in the lee of a small copse of ancient apple trees, what looked to be an improvised martial arts training ground. And there, angrily muttering to herself as she bucked and pummeled a group of humanoid and equanoid training dummies, was Lady Rainbow Dash, the Saint of Loyalty.

"JERK!" She shouted, as a particularly powerful roundhouse buck, took the head off of a human mannequin made of stuffed burlap. "Doesn't think we can fight for ourselves!" She snarled, as a wing shot out to execute a block, that was swiftly transitioned into a vicious throw that sent the remains of the unfortunate dummy into a tree with such force that it exploded in a puff of sawdust. "WE'RE NOT HELPLESS DAMMIT!" She roared, rearing up on her hind legs to smash her front hooves into another sack-man so hard that she put two holes in its torso, through which a distressing amount of sawdust poured out.

"Greetings Lady Dash." Michael called out, as Rainbow took a break to wipe her brow. Judging by the number of destroyed dummies, she'd been at this for some time. Yet, impressively, she seemed only slightly winded. At the sound of Michael's voice Rainbow's gaze snapped to him, her expression curdling like expired milk.

"What do you want?!" She spat. "If Derran sent you to keep an eye on me too, tell him I can take care of myself!" Michael's eye's briefly shifted to a pair of unobtrusive armored figures in the trees. They were the Legion bodyguards assigned to Rainbow by Derran and Khamun: Nakht Ramses, and Bastet Akhenaten, both powerful members of the Star Guard. Michael had little doubt she had tried to order them away. Unfortunately, that was one order they couldn't obey outside a fortified area. Nevertheless, they were clearly doing their best to give Lady Dash her space.

"I was out observing the defenses. I happened to hear your voice and thought you might be in distress." Michael explained, his tone gentle. "I apologize if I am intruding." He stated, giving the Saint the chance to send him away should she choose. Much as he wanted to help, he couldn't force his company on her. Fortunately she seemed to have worked out enough aggression to realize she was being rude.

"Sorry Michael." She said, deflating. "I just. . . me and Derran had a fight." Michael nodded sympathetically.

"Care to talk about it? I am told I make a fine sounding board?" He offered with a smile. Rainbow nodded, but then glanced over at her bodyguards. Michael gave a look of understanding as he turned to his brother and sister in arms. Reaching into the robe worn over his armor, he fished out a small medallion. His fellow soldiers swiftly made a series of complex signs with their fingers, verifying the ID tag with a spell. Once they were satisfied, they nodded. "Brother Ramses, Sister Akhenaten, I am temporarily relieving you of duty. Please proceed to Sweet Apple Acres and aid in the defense construction until I call upon you." Offering the Legion salute, the two warriors headed toward the entrance of the farm without a word.

"Thanks." Rainbow said, as Ramses and Akhenaten moved out of earshot and Michael replaced the medallion within his robe. "Nakht and Bastet are cool, but. . ."

"They are still strangers?" Michael offered. Rainbow nodded. "To be fair, I'm hardly any less so." Rainbow gave a small shrug.

"Maybe. But I feel like I know you better from seeing you in Derran's memories." Michael conceded the point with a faint nod.

"Ah yes, I recall my Lord mentioning that. I must say, I'm glad he decided to share that with you. No man should have to endure such memories alone." Here Michael made a quick series of gestures with his fingers, before making an upward beckoning movement. Instantly, the earth deformed. Three lumps of sod and earth rising up to form a table and two chairs, seemingly upholstered with grass.

"Woah! I didn't know you could do magic?!" Rainbow exclaimed. Michael let out a chuckle.

"You'd be forgiven for that. While I train in the mystic arts as strongly as any other form of war, I seldom use it outside my day to day. I find it is better used as a trump card, rather than my primary means of attack." He replied, as he looked over his handywork. Before, satisfied, he sat down in a perfectly formed armchair made of dirt and grass. Joining him in the opposite chair, Rainbow let out a sigh of satisfaction.

"Wow, these are really comfy! Remind me to invite you next time the girls and I want to chillax." Michael let out a chuckle at the compliment.

"An invitation to chillax with the Sainted Ones? I'd be a fool to refuse. Though I am a bit miffed that you only want me for my furniture." He replied with a smirk. Eliciting a chuckle from Rainbow.

"So how powerful are you?" She asked, as Michael made another series of gestures, that caused a number of the tastier types of flower to rapidly grow out of the table, easily within hoof's reach of her. Michael carefully plucked a nasturtium leaf, bringing it to his lips as he replied.

"I cannot say I have ever graded my abilities. However, Lord Khamun once mentioned that he felt I was easily in the league of the upper ranks of Pharosian sorcerers. If accurate, that estimate would put me in the company of individuals whom can shatter mountains with the proper spell." Rainbow stared.

"Woah! That sounds awesome!" She exclaimed, before her expression suddenly darkened. "Guess that's what it takes for Derran to let you protect your friends." She declared bitterly, as she snatched a daisy to angrily chew on. Michael's expression became sympathetic, as he bit down on the nasturtium leaf. Considering his words as he savored the peppery flavor.

"You think his Lordship doesn't believe you are strong enough?" Rainbow arched an eyebrow at Michael's questioning tone.

"What else could it be?! Derran literally told us that we couldn't hack it!" Michael nodded slowly.

"I suppose it's true you lack combat experience, and with respect Lady Dash, war is not something I would wish upon my worst enemy, let alone you." At Rainbow's glare, Michael held up a hand. "That said, I do not believe it is my Lord's primary fear." At that, Rainbow looked confused.

"No offence, but you weren't there. Derran was pretty clear." Michael sighed.

"And I am certain he meant what he said. However his greater fear, indeed the fear of many of my brothers, is not that that you will fail in battle, but that you will succeed." At that, Rainbow looked completely lost.

"What are you talking about?! Are you seriously telling me Derran doesn't want us ponies fighting because he thinks we'll win?!! How does that make any sense?!!!" She demanded, glaring across the earthen table in equal parts anger and confusion. Michael however, remained completely calm as he replied.

"Lady Dash, are you aware just how much stronger the average pony is compared to a human?" Rainbow cocked her head, feeling completely flummoxed.

"Are kidding me?! You guys are-." Michael interrupted Rainbow with a shake of his head.

"No Lady Dash, not my brothers and sisters in the Legion. We have been granted power and strength far in excess of what we originally were capable of. I speak of humans that do not posses these gifts." Rainbow shrugged.

"I dunno. I always figured we were basically the same?" Michael chuckled.

"Exactly the response I would hope for from a Sainted One. And in the eyes of the Light and the Seraphim, you would be correct. All are equal under their gaze. However, there are important differences, both physical and emotional. And when it comes to the physical. . . an ordinary, unarmed human wouldn't stand a chance against even the weakest pony." Rainbow stared at Michael, disbelief written across her face.

"That. . . c'mon, that can't be right. You guy's fought in that Hell place for thirty years! I mean, yeah I'm awesome and all, but no way I could have done that!" Michael's expression suddenly looked far away.

"Did you know, Lady Dash, that the maneuvers you and your fellow Wonderbolts make during your basic warmups, would kill an un-augmented human pilot almost instantly?" Rainbow opened her mouth, but seemed unable to find a reply. Michael gave a grim smile, as he began casting a spell. Instantly, an outline of a pegasus pony in blue and a human in red appearing about fifty feet away as Michael continued speaking.

"The most gravitational force ever survived by a human body without magical protection was just over two hundred fourteen G's." The human outline was shown encased in some form of self-powered carriage that drove a short way before crashing. "That was in an autocarriage race crash. He suffered multiple fractures, breaking his sternum and femur, shattering a vertebra in his spine, and crushing his ankles. The fact he survived at all was a miracle." At Michael's words, the human outline was covered in bandages, and then placed in a hospital bed. "You, on the other hoof, once hit the ground in an out of control tailspin, head first. Sustaining multiple times that force, and suffering only a fractured wing and a few hours of unconsciousness. You were back on your hooves in a few days. Whereas the human racer took eighteen months."

As the pegasus outline was shown getting a band-aid on its wing before walking out of a building marked with a red cross, Rainbow did a double take. Was she really that much more durable than an average human? Thinking about Derran and the rest of the Legion it was pretty hard to imagine. But then, Michael wasn't talking about Legion humans.

"Additionally, your body has sustained speeds of well over Mach ten, while performing turns at near right angles." Here the peagusus outline was shown shooting through the air, performing all kinds of turns, spins, and tricks before landing light as a feather. "A human attempting the same thing, would be torn asunder by the forces involved." Michael explained, showing the human outline attempting the same actions, only to disintegrate mid turn. Rainbow picked and slowly chewed another daisy.

"If we're really that strong and we're fighting humans. . . why wouldn't Derran want us fighting? If winning would be that easy, why would he be afraid of that?" Michael sighed, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Lady Dash. . . do you happen to know what my brother's first instinct was on hearing of Hayden's threat?" Rainbow nodded.

"Of course. Twilight told us they wanted to attack Hayden first. Why? It actually sounded like a pretty smart move to me?" Michael gave a humorless smile.

"I suspect what the Seraphim of Friendship failed to mention was the nature of the battle my brothers wished to wage. Likely because she herself was not ready to speak of it." Taking a deep breath, Michael looked Rainbow dead in the eye. "Lady Dash, my brothers did not wish to fight Hayden's soldiers. They wanted to exterminate his people in their entirety in an act of genocide." Rainbow's eyes widened in shock as Michael elaborated. "You and your fellow Equestrians see us as saviors and heroes. However, that is only because most of you have never seen our darker natures. The rage. . . the hate. . . the horror and misery. How in each of us lies a cruel and wrath-filled monster, one we fight every day to contain. Our bodies may be whole Lady Dash, but make no mistake, we are all broken men. Broken and twisted, by the horror of war."

Rainbow shuddered, as Michael's expression seemed to grow cold. With one hand, he traced jagged lines and sinister twirls in the air. A smell of ozone filled her nostrils, as Michael's hand began to glow. Extending it toward her, Michael stared into Rainbow's eyes with a frightening intensity despite his calm expression. "If you want to know the greatest fear of the Slayer, of all within the Legion. . . take my hand."

Rainbow stared at the offered appendage. Glowing with a cold sort of un-light it seemed to mute the brilliance of the otherwise sunny day. For a moment, she hesitated. Then her expression became determined.

"I've seen Derran lose control. And I'm not stupid. I know sometimes he isn't the nicest guy. But I'm not scared of him or winning! Especially not when it means protecting my home and friends!" So saying, Rainbow grabbed hold of Michael's hand with her hoof. And everything. . . went dark.

Rainbow shot across the battlefield like a living cannonball. Low to the ground she dodged anti-aircraft cannon fire and surface to air missiles effortlessly. Below her, razor wire and craters covering an endless field of mud whipped by in a blur. The smell of cordite, sulfur and smoke filled her lungs. Dipping a wing, she lazily rolled away from a line of tracer fire, laughing as she closed on her target. If the enemy wanted to take her down, they'd need to try a lot harder than that!

Looming up before her was a small redoubt of earth and concreate. Barely worthy of being called a fortification, it had been blasted almost out of existence by bombs and artillery fire. It was one of the last lines of defense before the enemy's back line. The only thing preventing the Legion EUP divisions from advancing right into the enemy encampment. Rainbow grinned, it had taken mere days to crush the opposition's primary, secondary, and tertiary lines. They had lost hundreds of thousands of soldiers to the combined might of the EUP and Legion while barely scratching them in return. Granted, they had still lost good men and ponies in the effort, but no more than a few hundred so far with just under a thousand wounded. Rainbow, instinctively thought of Pinky Pie and felt a sharp pain in her heart, the doctors still weren't sure when she'd wake up from her coma, or what kind of condition she'd be in when she did.

"Heads up Lieutenant!" Called out a familiar voice, breaking Rainbow out of her increasingly dark thoughts. As several figures swooped into formation around her. Spitfire, Soren, and Thunderlane, each in a modified magetech version of a Wonderbolt flight suit took position beside and behind her. The uniforms they all now wore were in digital camo colors, and sported specialized armored frames covering their bodies and wings. Sleek helmets featuring an integrated heads up display in the tinted visors covered their heads, each bearing markers denoting their names, ranks, and most importantly their kill count. Rainbow couldn't see hers, but somehow knew it was over nine thousand confirmed kills, the highest in the EUP Pegasus Division. The frames also came equipped with a number of modular weapon hardpoints. Currently carrying blast SMG's, defensive flares, and micro-grenade launchers. "You weren't planning on winning the whole war by yourself were you Mam?" Spitfire asked with mock reproach.

"C'mon Captain, I'm sure the CO wasn't gonna leave us sitting on our hooves. Were ya' LT?" Soren remarked with a laugh. Rainbow just smirked at her subordinates as they continued to deftly dodge the increasingly desperate enemy defensive fire. The comradery felt good. She wasn't quite able to recall how they'd all got here, but it didn't matter. The elite Wonderbolt kill-team The Redwings, was hurtling toward an enemy position locked and loaded and under heavy fire. Now was the time for action, not thinking. Especially not about Pinky Pie, or the pain and anger thinking about her caused.

"Sure. . . that is if you slackers can manage to keep up." Rainbow declared with a laugh, as she casually smacked a missile aside with her wing. Her onboard computer having informed her its warhead had failed to arm. While simultaneously activating the blazing red energy blades along the outside of her armored pinions, from which her squad had gained their infamous name "C'mon Redwings! Let's show these Hayden humping hairless apes who runs these skies!"

"MAM YES MAM!!" Came the immediate reply. As they finally reached the lip of the redoubt.

Shooting over the small hill of disintegrating earth and concreate, Rainbow had a brief glimpse of a red and black featureless helmet as she and the Redwings flew by. Screams accompanied a light bump, as her squad's bladed wings sliced through the hapless enemy, the opening strike coating them in glorious crimson. Activating their grenade launchers, the ranks of unprepared soldiers in the trenches on the other side of the redoubt were torn apart by four simultaneous three round bursts of high explosives from the quartet of impossibly fast pegusai. Hurtling through a cloud of shredded limbs, pulverized organs and vaporized blood, the Redwings parted and came about in a series of razor sharp U-turn. The back of the redoubt was a concreate wall with platforms, stairs, and weapon emplacements built into it. All currently crawling with Earth aligned humans. One of which, spattered with the gore of his decapitated allies, stared at her and the Redwings with naked terror. Internally, Rainbow felt a thrill go through her at that look. Even if she'd never say it out loud, she liked the fear she and her team inspired. It made her feel powerful, like an invincible goddess of the sky.

"He'ya boys!" Rainbow shouted cheekily. Laughing as she and her three wingponies hosed the, woefully slow, soldiers manning the redoubt's firing step with Blast SMG weapons fire. Men, still struggling to bring their weapons to bare screamed, as they came apart under the unforgiving barrage. Rainbow briefly felt another sharp pain in her heart as her team landed and separated into groups of two. Heading for one of the two still functional pill boxes, she couldn't help but wonder if that had been a little cruel. There hadn't been that many enemy soldiers, and they could have easily taken them prisoner. Couldn't they? Rainbow dismissed the thought as Soren placed a breeching charge on the pillbox door. Soft thinking like that is what got Pinky hurt, she wouldn't make the same mistake.

"Knock knock monkeys!" Soren shouted, as they took cover on either side of the door and detonated the charge. Soren, not pausing to preform a room scan or lob a grenade, charged in heedlessly. Rainbow didn't even have time to cry out a warning, before a thunderous boom sounded, and Soren's head exploded in a spray of gore.

"SOREN!!" Rainbow shouted. Anger and horror mingling in her voice, as she fired a burst of explosive submachinegun fire at the still smoking doorframe, before pulling a hoof grenade from the tactical kit on her chest and tossing it into the structure. Dust and smoke vomited from the door, along with a scream and a spray of shrapnel. Not hesitating, Rainbow ran in, jumping nimbly over the prone form of a shredded corpse holding a broken shotgun and into the gunner's room.

A human soldier without his helmet turned to look at Rainbow with frightened eyes. He looked ragged beyond belief, exhausted and half starved, his dirty and torn uniform hanging off of him like a scarecrow. To boot, he likely hadn't slept in days, given the bags under his eyes. Rainbow didn't care, even as he raised his arms to show he was unarmed.

"I surrend-." Rainbow didn't even let him finish as she launched herself at the man with a scream of rage. Knocking him to the ground, she felt his ribs crack from the impact of her short charge. For just an instant, Rainbow beheld the terror in the man's eyes as he struggled to shield himself with his arms. In the back of her head, Rainbow Dash heard a voice, pleading with her to stop. Shouting at her that the human was unarmed and no threat. That killing him would be wrong. . . then she thought of Soren and Pinky.

With a roar of primal fury, Rainbow struck the man with her right hoof. His cry of pain, as his lip split and his teeth cracked, doing nothing but urge on his attacker as her left hoof came down. With wild swings of her front hooves, Rainbow proceeded to demolish the helpless human. Bones cracked, flesh rent, and blood and teeth sprayed across the floor as Rainbow vented her fury. She paid no heed to his cries of pain or his inarticulate attempts to beg for his life. His cries swiftly growing weaker, as his attacker beat his face to a pulp. His struggles were as feeble as his words to the far stronger pony, his fists merely annoying her as he tried to fight her off. With a snort, Rainbow broke both his arms with a few well aimed strikes as she continued to whale on him. Only when, with a final echoing 'crack' her enemy went entirely limp, did she stop.

Once more, in the back of her head, Rainbow heard a voice. Screaming at her. It demanded to know what she had done?! That man was helpless, and she murdered him in cold blood! But Rainbow ignored it, as she searched the bodies and rooms for intel. Once satisfied that there was nothing save a broken comms array and a few personal effects, Rainbow headed back outside. Just in time for Spitfire and Thunderlane to come out of the opposite pill box, shoving a captive into the ground before them. With a laugh, Thunderlane shot a burst from his blast weapons at the prisoner's feet, the low powered shots kicking up puffs of dust as the human stumbled with a frightened yelp.

"And here I thought monkeys were good at dancing!" Spitfire remarked with a cruel laugh. That once again spurred that damned voice to yell at Rainbow to put a stop to Thunderlane's little prank. She ignored it in favor of addressing Spitfire.

"Soren's dead." Rainbow declared bluntly. Once more tuning out the voice as it asked how she could be so blasé about the death of a friend. For an instant, Spitfire and Thunderlane looked shocked, before shaking their heads.

"Bucking hell!" Spitfire swore angrily.

"Whos' gonna tell his little brother?! Kid worshipped Soren!" Thunderlane remarked. His voice thick with anger and sadness.

"We'll worry about it once the mission's over. Report: what did you find, and who's the stray?" Spitfire launched into an explanation as Thunderlane went to claim Soren's dog tags.

"We didn't find any intel mam, but the prisoner was manning the secondary comms. Figured he might know something." Rainbow glanced over at the whimpering prisoner. He was absurdly young, likely only eighteen or nineteen. He looked scared out of his mind. The damned voice came back, begging Rainbow to say something to comfort him. He was just a kid! What if that had been Scootaloo?! Rainbow was getting really sick of this, the voice reminded her of the old her, the soft, naive filly who hadn't yet learned the hard lessons of the world. Turning to the prisoner, Rainbow targeted his legs with her guns. Her voice was like ice as she spoke.

"One of your friends just killed my buddy Soren. So I'm in a lousy mood. Tell me something interesting and maybe I won't take it out on you." The man, or 'boy' really, looked at Rainbow with tears in his eyes. Except for the voice begging her to stop, Rainbow felt nothing.

"I-I don't. . . the town is undefended! It's just civilians! Children and the elderly! You killed everyone el-AAAHHH!!!." The boy's testimony transitioned into a scream of supreme agony, as Rainbow obliterated his left leg with a three round burst from her SMG.

"I said 'interesting'." She drawled nonchalantly as the boy clutched at the bloody stump of his leg. "lies aren't interesting." The boy, showing an impressive degree of discipline, managed to stop screaming. Looking at Rainbow through pleading tearstained eyes, he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I'm not lying! I swear! We were the only defenders left! Please! You've won! The town will surrender I swear just-." A final shot from Rainbow's weapon detonated the young soldier's head, silencing him forever. Meanwhile, the voice in her head was now apparently bawling its eyes out over the dead human. Rainbow herself, had work to do. Work that didn't involve coddling some defective part of herself that suddenly took issue with the wages of war.

"You think he was telling the truth Lieutenant?" Spitfire asked, apparently completely unconcerned with the brutal actions of her superior. Rainbow shrugged.

"Could be. Not that it matters. Command says we'd lose too much momentum by sticking around, so orders are to level the town, not take it. We don't have time to babysit a bunch of monkey POW's." Spitfire nodded, as a voice, familiar, yet alien in how cold and unemotional it sounded, spoke through her suit comms.

"Lieutenant Dash? This is high command. Update: what's the status of your mission?" Rainbow let out a sigh.

"Soren is KIA, but we've taken the position. Interrogated a survivor, he said they were the only defenders left. Claimed there were civilians squatting in the town." The response was as prompt as it was unsympathetic.

"Unfortunate, but we can't risk occupation. Signal General Applejack to advance with her battalion, orders remain the same: destroy the town and kill anycreature they find." Rainbow Dash nodded, the voice in her head now screaming incoherently at her, in turns begging and threatening her to stop this madness. Madness? As if fighting for her home could ever be madness.

"Roger that Twilight. We'll grab a cider and toast to Soren when I get back." The reply that followed was garbled, as Rainbow felt the world fade around her. . .

Rainbow Dash fell out of her chair screaming. For several seconds she stayed on the ground, her head jerking wildly as her horrified shrieks filled the air. Her mind was a whirlwind as she struggled not to vomit. An indecipherable babble of words pouring from her lips as tears filled her eyes. Only the feeling of a pair of arms wrapping around her anchored her to sanity.

"It's alright Lady Dash! Shhh! It's alright!" Michael Santius declared, as he held Rainbow in his arms. His soothing voice working to calm her as she bawled into his shoulder. "It wasn't real! Just an illusion. Everything is all right. Shhhhh. . ." Running his hands gently through Rainbow's mane, Michael listened as Rainbow slowly calmed down. In fits and starts, she finally managed to speak coherently.

"I. . . (hic) I couldn't stop myself!" She sobbed. "I just. . . oh Celestia those people! WHY COULDN'T I STOP?!!" Michael felt sick as he comforted the pony in his arms. He hadn't meant to traumatize Rainbow Dash. Merely show her an example of what he had been talking about.

"That wasn't you Lady Dash." He stated soothingly. "I know it felt like it was, but that was the spell. It conjured a corrupted version of you that I came up with based off my own fighting experiences. I am so sorry. I didn't mean it to feel that real."

"B-but I. . . I killed that guy! He was scared, and alone, and he didn't know anything and I just. . . I didn't mean to do it!" Michael once again began running his hand through Rainbow's mane.

"I know you didn't my Lady." He stated, his voice and actions gradually calming Rainbow down.

"The killing I. . . some of it I enjoyed! Like it was a game! Oh Celestia, I'm a monster!" Rainbow bawled. Michael shook his head.

"No my Lady! You would never be so heartless as that creature I made! You aren't capable of it. If I have faith in anything, it is that. I assure you, the only one at fault here is me." Several minutes passed, as Rainbow cried her eyes out onto Michael's shoulder. For his part, Michael never moved, simply holding and comforting the weeping mare as best he could. Finally, she pulled back, her face a mess of tears and snot. Conjuring a handkerchief from the ether, Michael began to gently clean Rainbow's face. After he finished, and once she'd blown her nose, she was finally able to address him normally.

"Is. . . is what you said true? Was that. . . 'evil me' really based on you?" Michael nodded.

"It was. A tiny piece of myself, shoved into a simulacrum of you. It was not meant to be so intense. Merely an example of how war can twist even the best of us into something we never wanted to be." Rainbow still looked skeptical.

"But. . . you're a good guy! Even Derran said you're the greatest man he ever knew! How can. . . that be inside you?" Michael took a deep breath.

"All of the Legion have inner monsters Rainbow. A hate. Born from what Hell did to us. . . and from what we chose to do to ourselves." Looking into Michael's eyes, Rainbow saw an almost immeasurable sadness, and for a moment, a single, fleeting moment, a glimmer of something. Whatever it was, it was dark, twisted, and more terrifying than a hundred rampaging Derrans. "Know this Lady Dash, though I may posses control of my anger, though I make every effort to follow in the hoofsteps of the Seraphim and walk in the light of forgiveness, I am still Legion. And when the occasion demands it; I too, can hate. . ."

These Stones so Holy

"A city is but cold stone and lifeless mortar. It is the creatures within that give it a soul."

-Michael Santius

Michael Santius walked through the streets of the holy city of Canterlot, lost deep in thought. Most Legion soldiers would have been struck with awe. Surrounded by the gleaming white towers of the castle and the exquisite mansions of the nobility, with opulence and style shining from every angle. Perched on a magically constructed overhang, the city was a titanic structure. In addition to the houses and businesses of thousands of Canterlot's citizens in the residential and market districts, the city boasted sumptuous gardens, shining rivers, and even a small forest or two. Over it all towered the castle of the holy sisters, a massive edifice, built to be their seat of power. A gleaming work of enchanted, purest white marble, violet tiles and shining gold. This city truly was an engineering work worthy of divinity. A glorious shining beacon of the Seraphim's holy presence, a reminder to all that the sacred rulers of Equestria were watching over them.

Yet, for all its magnificence, Michael trod Canterlot's streets with head bowed and gaze focused inward. He had done this several times in the week and a half since his departure from Ponyville. Usually in those rare moments when he had time to let his thoughts settle. Always he came back to that moment, when he had attempted to show lady Rainbow Dash the insidious warping effects of war on the mind.

His spell, which placed the subject into a hypnotic dream of the caster's creation, had not worked how it was supposed to. Far from being an unaware dreamer witnessing events in the detached manner that was intended, Rainbow's experience had been brutally visceral. However, what was more surprising was that, in the midst of it, the Saint of Loyalty had managed to fight against the spell. In great detail, Lady Dash had recounted the experience of her true self as a voice echoing out from her subconscious into her dream self's conscious mind. It was a thing that should have been impossible.

The spell should not have allowed for any kind of lucidity on Rainbow's part. And in dissecting it, Michael had come to a hypothesis that had him reconsidering many assumptions relating to the psychology of Equestrians. He was certain he had made no errors in the spell's casting, and that no outside influence had disrupted the ritual. Thus, the only variable he could point to, was that Lady Dash, was not human. The spell was, at its most basic, an illusory curse of sorts. Originally used to harden D'nurean soldiers to the horrors of combat. Allowing them to adjust to it in a training environment without the need for live-fire exercises. It was designed to work with the human mind, the mind of a species that while not necessarily predisposed to violence, certainly seemed fascinated by it. Evidently the Equestrian mind, was even more dissimilar in function to humanity than Michael had originally believed. Seeming to fight against the spell on a fundamental and instinctual level. If this hypothesis indeed proved true, it may indicate that Equestrians had an inbuilt mental resistance to, and rejection of, unnecessary violence and cruelty. If accurate, this might mean that the Equestrians would be far more psychologically stable in a war than the Legion itself.

"A pity I have no proof. Save a single incidental occurrence that may be entirely unique to Lady Dash. I would dearly have liked to ease my Lord's mind on this. Perhaps when I have more time. . ." Michael murmured to himself as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. Abruptly however, Michael was pulled from his thoughts by an angry hail from nearby.

"Oi! Michael! Your jerk boss back in Canterlot yet?!"

Looking up, Michael noted he had wandered into one of the city's larger plazas. Known as the Lunar Promenade, it intersected several roads leading to the residential district in one direction and the markets and art district in the other. It would be a key point of control for any invading, or defending, force. In no small part because, thanks to being dominated by a large but very shallow reflecting pool, it was an ideal location to land aircraft. Thus it was small wonder the Legion was in the process of fortifying it as heavily as possible.

Across the way, Michael could see a wall into a private garden being demolished in order to construct a machine gun nest. Opposite, on a nearby rooftop, an anti-air position was under construction in what used to be a cafe. The plaza itself was also being utilized as a logistics site. Tables and boxes covered in charts and lists had been set up next to piles of supplies, that were in a constant state of flux as they were added to or subtracted from in accordance with the needs of the defense. The best and brightest designers, architects, planners and laborers from across Canterlot rubbed shoulders with Legion soldiers and magetechnicians as they worked feverishly to fortify the city. And it was from one such group, being managed by a fuchsia eyed mare with a spice rack cutie mark, that the annoyed comment had come. Michael smiled as he responded.

"Regretfully Lady Saltfield, his Lordship is still in Ponyville. Shall I include your usual displeasure toward your wartime appointment in my next report?" Rosy Saltfield, glared at Michael from behind her stark white mane.

"No. But you can tell him that he is officially off my preferred customers list!" Michael chuckled as he walked toward the irate pegasus and her gaggle of aids. Despite her outward annoyance, he could tell there was very little actual anger behind Rosy's words.

"Oh my. Well some sacrifices are unavoidable I suppose. I'm still not certain I understand your irritation though. Lord Derran was under the impression you wished experience some excitement? I would think being made head of provisioning for the holy city during wartime would be plenty exciting?" Rosy gave an irritated huff as she hoofed a freshly sealed scroll to a pegusus runner, or 'flyer' if you wanted to be pedantic, who swiftly shot off in the direction of the palace with it tightly gripped in his mouth.

"Exciting?! Try exhausting!" Rosy shot back pointedly as she ran down a fresh list she'd been given by a Legion soldier who wordlessly saluted Michael before making a sign in the air and using a levitation spell to fly off toward the market district. "You!" Rosy snapped at an earth pony with a postage stamp cutie mark. "Tell Captain Heridule that we need to stockpile more dried beans, powdered eggs and milk. We may be vegetarian but ponies still need at least a little protein for a balanced diet. I don't care where or how he gets it, but we need more than dried apples and carrots if there's a siege! Tell him to contact Cut Oats in Manehatten, he wholesales the stuff, if he can't get it he'll know who can." Michael made an effort to hide his smile as Rosy turned back to him.

"I'm lucky if I get four hours of sleep at my desk! My mane hasn't been washed in days! I survive almost entirely off energy bars and coffee! And I haven't had a single non-work conversation since your bungling biped of a commander decided to tell Celestia I was some sort of distribution genius or whatever! If this is how that jackass helps his friends I'd hate to see what he's going to do to the enemy!" Michael had to put a bit more effort than normal into not rolling his eyes. Despite her vehement complaints, he could tell the pegusus mare was having the time of her life.

"Well if it helps we certainly appreciate your assistance. Your network of suppliers and remarkable organizational skills have impressed even Lord Leonidas and Lady Twilight. Without you we'd still be stuck with no knowledge of where to get what we need or whom may have it. Your efforts are felt even outside of Canterlot. The whole of Equestria is being supplied by the contacts you have been managing for us. I've even heard whispers that Ladies Luna and Celestia wish to offer you a noble title when this is all over." Rosy snorted as she hastily wrote something on a scroll before sealing it and handing it to another pegusus messenger.

"I'd rather have a full night's sleep and a hot meal." She declared gruffly, even as Michael saw her suppress a grin.

"Well if you are that hard pressed I could take some of the load? I have nothing pressing for the next two hours at least." Rosy raised her head, presumably to accept, before stopping and letting a smirk cross her features.

"Much as I'd like the help, it looks like your schedule just filled up." She stated with a slight chuckle. As before Michael could ask for clarification, a refined voice with a slight Prench accent addressed him.

"Bonjour Sir Michael, and a fine good morning Miss Saltfield." Michael felt a grin envelop his whole face as he turned to behold the speaker. A tall white unicorn mare with a pink and white mane and tail, who's cutie mark matched her namesake: Fleur De Lis.

"Good morning Lady Fleur. You're looking immaculate as always." He stated, as he bowed to place a light kiss on the fetlock of a raised hoof.

"Yo." Rosy stated with a wave, as she started writing another missive.

"Flatterer, careful or you'll have me blushing. Lovely to see you too Rosy." Fleur replied, offering Michael a beaming smile as he released her hoof.

"What brings you to this part of the city my Lady? I assumed you'd be at the palace helping Lord Fancy Pants?" Michael asked. In response Fleur let out a sound of frustration.

"It's Blueblood again. He and his cabal of idiots are trying to raise cane over damage to private property. Specifically relating to that." Fleur gestured behind Michael and Rosy to the machine gun nest in the process of being constructed on what used to be a tulip bed. "They insist that a 'Legion representative' be made to account for the damage." At that Michael chuckled.

"Not that seeing you isn't a delight, but there are plenty of high ranked Legion personnel available at the castle. Why would you need me?" Fleur gave a light laugh.

"I suspect because they find all your brothers utterly terrifying. Jet Setter and Upper Crust nearly fainted when they spoke to Lord Virgil. I think they thought he was going to eat them. I tried explaining to them that he always looks that angry, but they and the rest of Blueblood's pack just insist on speaking with you." Michael let out a laugh at that. Both he and Fleur knew for a fact that Virgil had an extremely low tolerance for nonsense. As head of Lady Celestia's trio of personal bodyguards the 'Devil Triggers' he saw it as his job to ensure no one wasted her divine majesty's time with, in his words: 'self entitled whining or pointless idiocy'. Unfortunately for Jet Setter and Upper Crust, that's about all they and the rest of Blueblood's friends knew how to do. Small wonder Michael was always the one Fleur and her brother tapped to help with the nobles.

Honestly though, most of the nobility were firmly behind the Legion. It was just a small group of less than a dozen individuals that had rallied to Blueblood's banner. Unfortunately, as Celestia's adopted nephew his word carried weight all the same. Alienating or ignoring him would cause wounds that could easily fester and cause trouble at the wrong moment. A diplomatic approach was undoubtably less efficient, but better in the long run for unity. And few in the Legion were better at smoothing ruffled feathers than Michael. Not that he especially minded, after all it gave him more time to spend with Lady Fleur, something he was very much unopposed to.

"Very well then, I suppose I can't refuse a call from a member of the royal family." From behind him, Michael heard Rosy scoff.

"The heck you can't! Everycreature knows Blueblood is an arrogant little punk, heck even Celestia knows it! Just toss his ass in the dungeon till the war's over. Not like we'll lose anything." Michael shook his head even as he suppressed a smile.

"Now now Lady Saltfield. Everycreature deserves a chance to be heard in the Seraphim's court. You never know, Lord Blueblood may have something to present we hadn't considered. Let's keep an open mind." Rosy scoffed again.

"You're just saying that because you wanna hang out with Fleur instead of helping me do some real work." Michael turned to look at Rosy with a beneficent smile.

"I promise I'll be back this evening. I'll take over and you can get a full night's rest. Sound fair?" Rosy paused as she handed off a scroll to a unicorn in a hardhat.

"Fine. You lovebirds head off and talk to the prince about maintaining the daisies while the world burns. But you better be back here tonight." Michael nodded as he and Fleur carefully ignored each other's blushes.

"As you say Lady Saltfield." Michael stated, as he and Fleur headed off.

The path to the castle was reasonably short, so the aristocrat pony and Legion Lieutenant set off, side by side, at a leisurely pace. The rout was filled with activity far in excess of the normal merchants and bustling citizenry. In one location, a group of guardsponies was being run through a map detailing the city evacuation procedures by a fully armored member of the Solar Guard. In another, several Star Guard magetechs were helping a group of unicorns set up what appeared to be some sort of magical forge. Overhead, Legion mages and pegusai flitted through the air on myriad errands.

"The war certainly has put our fair city into a frenzy. Is this normally how things go in human wars?" Fleur asked, as she and Michael stepped to one side to avoid a group of hard hat wearing ponies. Michael shook his head.

"No. Usually the defence preparations happen over a period of months, sometimes years. Unless of course the enemy is especially canny in keeping their own preparations under wraps. We are fortunate Hayden could be tricked into giving us a full month to establish defenses. If he had come with an army from the start. . . well he may actually have been able to force our hand." Fleur shook her head.

"Sacred bleu, thank Celestia that Derran and the Elements were there." Michael nodded.

"It is indeed fortunate. I don't care to think how it might have gone otherwise." The pair settled into silence for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Fleur turned to Michael the barest hint of nervousness on her face. However before she could speak, a new voice rang out.

"Hail Lord Santius! How does this day find you?!" Walking toward the duo was a Legion soldier in polished silver armor, etched with the swirling symbol of the two sisters. Over this, he wore a robe nearly identical to Michael's. One half black with Celestia's cutie mark embroidered on it, the other half white with Luna's cutie mark. Across his back he carried a staff of some dark metal capped by a green gemstone that glowed with a faint inner light. At his side was a sheathed sword and pistol, while a sling of brown leather held a blast rifle behind his back. The man's unhelmeted head was clean shaven and accompanied by a well trimmed beard and mustache. His smile was bright and sincere, set beneath a pair of mischievous olive eyes.

"Greetings brother Garro." Michael replied with a smile. "The day finds me well. Just on my way to the palace." Garro immediately let out a chuckle.

"More trouble from Blueblood?" He asked with a knowing smile. Michael nodded, looking faintly surprised.

"Indeed. How did you guess?" Garro shrugged.

"Word gets around." He said simply, before turning his attention to Fleur. "And could this be the infamous Lady Fleur De Lis?" Michael let out a light laugh.

"Indeed. Apologies I was not aware you two were unacquainted. Lady Fleur permit me to introduce Champion Nathan Garro of the One Eighty Nine. One of our most courageous and potent magetechs."

"Charmed Champion Garro." Fleur greeted offering her hoof. Garro smiled as he took her hoof and shook it, bowing his head as he did so.

"Please, call me Nathan. Never liked the title, far too grand in my opinion." Fleur nodded as Garro released her hand. His voice was deep but held a boisterousness that made him seem full of energy. He also had extremely kind eyes, and Fleur already found herself liking him.

"Nathan it is then. Are you also on your way to the palace?" Nathan shook his head.

"No, my team and I are stationed in the clock tower in the center of town." Fleur looked at him curiously. She had known the Legion had heavily fortified the tower at the center of the city, but had never learned why.

"I see. I'm afraid I'm not aware of your team's purpose Nathan?" It was almost too quick to catch, but Garro flicked his eyes to Michael for a split second. To which Michael responded with an almost imperceptible nod.

"We're the backup in case the shield around the city fails. Since we're on high alert only one of us is permitted to leave the tower at a time. I'm just out to check in with Lords Leonidas and Musashi and stretch my legs around the city for a bit. I'd tell you more but it's one of those 'need to know' sort of situations." Fleur nodded, she expected as much. The Legion wasn't overly worried about spies, but regardless, only a fool would dismiss the possibility. As a result the Legion had made compartmentalization of information a top priority. Granted she had only learned this when she had idly attempted to read a scroll over Celestia's shoulder during a meeting. The letter had looked normal enough, until she asked Celestia about why the Legion was deploying troops to Hoofington. A town she knew for absolute certain they were in the process of evacuating.

That was when she learned that everycreature of rank involved in the defense effort had been enchanted so that the letters they wrote would only be readable by somecreature with the same or higher security clearance as themselves. What's more, the spell tricked the brains of any unauthorized readers into seeing false, yet plausible, information. While the actual message was completely invisible. Slightly more worrying, was a tertiary enchantment on some highly classified documents that caused the letters to violently explode in the event the illusions were ever broken. And that was some of the more tame aspects of the Legion's security measures. Breaking herself from her musings, Fleur smiled at Nathan.

"I understand. Thank you for entertaining my curiosity." Garro smiled.

"Anything for the marefriend of brother Santius." He replied jovially. Fleur instantly felt her face heat up as she babbled a series of incomprehensible denials. Michael however, simply arched an eyebrow.

"Borther. . . may I ask what makes you think Lady Fleur and I are a couple?" Nathan suddenly looked confused.

"Brother Dante told me when we crossed paths in the palace. He said you've been dating for several days now. He seemed surprised I hadn't heard. Why?" Michael shook his head as he let out a chuckle.

"I'm afraid brother Dante may have been pulling your leg. My and Lady Fleur's relationship is strictly platonic." A look of comprehension appeared in Nathan's eyes, before they narrowed in annoyance.

"I see." He said, his voice quite a bit less cheerful than before. "I can't believe I fell for that." Turning to Fleur, he bowed his head low. "Please accept my apologies Miss De Lis. I hope I didn't embarrass you." Fleur swiftly got her blushing under control as she cleared her throat.

"No need for apologies Nathan. I am well aware of how pranks among siblings go." She declared graciously. Even as in her head she reflected that when it came to her and Fancy Pants it was typically she who did the pranking. Garro nodded.

"Thanks for letting me off the hook. Still, I think I'll need to have a word with my team about this." He stated with slightly worrying degree of calm. Michael smiled as he let out a chuckle.

"I feel officially obligated to say something to the effect of revenge being a small minded solution." Nathan gave his brother a bemused look.

"How about 'unofficially'?" Michael gave his brother a conspiratorial smirk.

"'Unofficially? I think I might have a word with brothers Virgil and Nero about the importance of not interfering with karma." Garro let out a laugh as he clapped Michael on the shoulder and turned to look at Fleur.

"It's honestly a shame it was a trick. Because hand to the Light Lady Fleur, you couldn't do better than this man right here!" Fleur let out a light laugh as she suppressed another blush.

"Of that Nathan, I have no doubt."

A Day in the Life

Author's Note

Good day everyone, Thule117 here, back with the final book in the story that began with Guardian. Fondest thanks to my returning readers, and warmest welcomes to any new readers. And speaking of returning readers, I must apologize for having taken so long with the new story. I didn't originally intend for it to take this long to put out, however there is an interesting personal story about that which I wish to relate to you all.

It began with a story which some of you may already be familiar with: Everyday Life With Guardsmares by Bobbles. First, allow me to say, that the story in question is nothing short of a masterwork, and once you are finished with here I encourage you all to go read it. As to how it relates to Legion, and its longer than intended delay, it largely revolves around me allowing myself to become obsessed by my own limitations in the face of someone who's talent (in my opinion) exceeds my own. As I stated, Everyday Life With Guardsmares is a masterwork, and has quite rightfully earned a great deal of praise and acclaim. It has been featured countless times, has over 2000 likes, and undoubtedly is the centerpiece of many a bookshelf and favorites list on this site. In addition, the story acquired all this (again: very much deserved) attention in less than a year.

It took me over three years to complete Guardian and neither it, nor my recently completed novella Doom Slayer have yet achieved the level of fame that Bobbles story has. As a result, I became a bit discouraged and even a bit jealous, but at the same time, I could hardly argue that the story hadn't earned its place in the stars. As such, I became slightly obsessed with finding a way to match Bobbles in some fashion. Deciding that the problem was simply that I wasn't working hard enough to quickly put out chapters of my stories. Bobbles was able to put out a three thousand plus word chapter every two or three days, why couldn't I do the same? I wrote a fair few chapters ahead in Legion, thinking that I could perhaps release a chapter a day for at least an entire week. However, as I was writing, I gradually realized I was trying to force myself into a mold I could never possibly fit into. Attempting to do things in a way that wasn't my own.

As a result, I was burning myself out, the quality of my work was suffering, and I was starting to resent the very thing I was creating. All because I was too foolish to recall that no matter how good you are, there is always someone better. I started writing Guardian because I wanted to tell a good story and become a better writer, not because I wanted to be famous. Don't get me wrong, I love getting recognition and praise, and hearing fans tell me how much they love my work is an endless source of motivation for me. But primarily, I write because I love telling stories, and it felt like I was in danger of forgetting that. I suppose the moral of the story is: be inspired by others, but don't try to become them.

Anyway, I apologize for that wordy explanation, but I didn't think: 'the story is overdue because I went crazy' would be quite sufficient on its own.

(Addendum: I actually spoke briefly to Bobbles and he explained to me that the story had actually been in development for over five years on another site. All of which honestly just makes the above tale seem oddly, sardonically hilarious.)

Finally, I want to offer credit to my editor Bronyshot2020 for his hard work on getting this chapter ready for prime time. Oh, and if you enjoy the story, be sure to click the 'Tracking' button so you can keep up with my rather erratic release scheduled.

And now, let the story, begin. . . .

A Day in the Life

Once there was a mighty king
Who's head would stand no crown
Trading circlet of bright gold, for yoke of holy vow
No gems upon his fingers, nor glory 'pon his brow
For he had sworn midst gentle souls to strike all evil down
So when you see his passing, never bow your head
Simply give a smile and shed a tear, for this king of mortal dread
And to you who hide in darkness
Vile beasts that spurn the Light
Then know that while the king is here
You shall not last this night. . . .

-Rhyme of the Uncrowned King

The young earth pony filly ran frantically through the night shrouded Everfree forest. Overhead, above twisted boughs like grasping claws, she could see the moon shining its eerie pale light down upon her. With tears in her eyes, the filly pushed herself to go faster, even as her limbs suddenly felt as if they had been turned to lead. Behind her, she could hear the laughter of her pursuer, cold and vicious. Dodging into the rotted out trunk of a tree and curling into a ball, the filly shuddered and silently cried, as Queen Chrysalis rounded the corner. Running her forked tongue over wickedly sharp fangs. Looking around, Chrysalis turned her head slowly, peering into the shadows in search of her prey. From her vantage in the crumbling tree trunk, the filly watched as the queen scanned the area with glowing green eyes, before giving an angry snarl and moving on. As the changeling monarch passed out of sight, the filly let out a sigh of relief. That swiftly turned to a horrified scream, as Chrysalis's face shot into view from around the trunk of the tree.

"Ah. . . there you are." Chrysalis drawled. "Just as I was starting to feel a bit peckish." The queen smiled cruelly, her fangs like glowing shards of ivory as she loomed over the filly.

"You can't be here?!" The filly squeaked in desperation. "The King stopped you!" Chrysalis just laughed.

"Merely a ruse, to insure my true plan would come to fruition! Now, little filly, time for you to become a midnight snack!" However, just as Chrysalis leaned down to tear out the filly's throat, the image of the forest shimmered and swam around them. The world shifted and twisted, and an odd sense of dizzying displacement overcame the pair. Suddenly the sensation ended, and the filly was shocked to find herself on a hill of grass, floating in an endless star studded void, with Chrysalis nowhere in sight. All around, she could see similar hills to the one she stood on suspended in the void, the space below the sedately hovering islands, filled with flaring comets and blue mist.

Each hill was covered with fillies and colts around her age, either stretched out on the impossibly soft grass, or lounging on large overstuffed pillows. As the filly stared around with her mouth hanging open, she noticed all of the islands were gently orbiting around a single, far larger chunk of perfectly circular land. Upon which were gathered a massive number of, very confused looking, monsters and villains, including about a hundred or so Chrysalis's. Above the islands, a breathtaking full moon and beautifully twinkling tapestry of stars, nebulas, and distant swirling galaxies, stood blazing in the firmament. In a display as relaxing, as it was awe inspiring.

"Hey! Buttercup!" Cried out a familiar voice, and the filly turned to see her best friend in the world; Flitterwing, trotting up to her with a smile. Buttercup stared at her pegasus friend in shock.

"Flitterwing?! What are you doing here?! What is this place?!" She asked in astonishment. He just chuckled.

"That's right, you don't dream much do you? So you haven't seen the show before." He replied. Buttercup just gave him a look of disbelieving confusion. As if her friend had just declared himself king of the mushroom ponies.

"Show?! What show?!" She cried out in confusion. Flitterwing just smiled in the face of his friend's lack of understanding, as he gestured down toward the massive central island. Where a roiling pillar of earth had suddenly begun growing out of the center, shooting up to swiftly form a massive tower of rough hewn stone.

"No time, it's starting! Just watch, trust me, you're gonna love this!" Before Buttercup could ask any more questions, a brilliant flash of light atop the now hundred foot high pillar, stole her attention. A pony appeared, her mane and tail like an ethereal mist, containing countless sparkling stars, swaying in an invisible breeze. While atop her head and around her neck, she wore a crown, and pearlescent moon embossed peytral, of polished black metal, that looked like solidified liquid darkness. With a bright playful smile, that put Buttercup instantly at ease, the pony cleared her throat, before addressing the crowd in a booming voice.

"Fillies and colts of Equestria! I welcome you, one and all, to the Tournament of Dreams! Where, before your very eyes, I, Luna, your Princess of the Night, shall put your nightmares to rest!" All across the various floating islands, a cheer went up from the seated colts and fillies. Next to Buttercup, Flitterwing joined in, screaming and stomping his hooves in joy.

"Isn't this great?!" He asked enthusiastically. Buttercup simply stared uneasily down at the central island. Unable to take her eyes off the seething crowd of monsters, around the base of the pillar Princess Luna stood on. It looked like there were hundreds, if not thousands, of them. All of them glaring up at the princess with undisguised hatred. Among them were everything from chimeras and manticores, to shadowy masses of tentacles and eyes, that made Buttercup shudder to look at them. Then of course, there were the villains that everypony recognized, Chrysalis, Tirek, Sombra, even one or two sinister looking Discords. All of them seemingly even more monstrous than their real life counterparts. Dream or not, Buttercup found it hard to imagine anypony facing all those horrors at once.

"Can Princess Luna really take on all those monsters by herself?" Buttercup asked, more than a little concerned. Flitterwing just giggled.

"Oh, don't worry, miss Luna never fights alone. Watch. . . ." Turning back toward the princess, Buttercup saw one of the nightmare Tirek's shake its fist up at Luna.

"You think you can fight us all on your own?!" The Tirek demanded, as if giving voice to Buttercup's doubts. Luna simply glared down imperiously at the bellowing centaur.

"I have no need to cur! For with the help of these young equestrians, I shall summon my mighty knight to assist me in dispatching you back to the nothingness where you belong!" Here Luna turned to look at the surrounding fillies, her voice gentle and encouraging despite its volume. "Come my little dreamers! You know the words! Call out to my knight, so that he might know of our need!" Instantly, Flitterwing, and all the other fillies nodded, and in near perfect unison, began to sing. Buttercup joining in after a moment's hesitation, and an encouraging nod from Flitterwing. The song was simple, powerful, and strangely ancient sounding, the refrain echoing beautifully through the stars. As she somewhat clumsily recited the unfamiliar words, Buttercup couldn't help but feel a sense of calm settle over her. As if instinctively knowing, everything would be alright. . . .

Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart. . .
I tell you, I tell you, the Doom Slayer comes. . .
With a sword wielding power of the ancient D'nur arts. . .
Believe, believe, the Doom Slayer comes. . .
It's an end to the evil of all Equis' foes. . .
Beware, beware, the Doom Slayer comes. . .
For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows. . .
You'll know, you'll know, the Doom Slayer's come. . . .

As the short song fragment faded into the ethereal night, a voice, as powerful as it was regal, shook the dreamscape like thunder. . . .

"What evil dares cast its shadow upon the innocent of this land?!" The words, deep and rumbling, brought looks of genuine terror to the faces of the assembled monsters and villains. As, in an explosion of swirling black smoke and ephemeral blue lightning, a bipedal figure appeared, rising from a crouch, to stand next to princess Luna atop the earthen pillar.

Clad head to toe in angular armor, made of overlapping plates of shining silver and midnight blue metal, etched with elaborate scrollwork. An ethereal cloak of blue silk lay draped about his shoulders, the gossamer fabric lightly fluttering behind him in an eldritch breeze. From beneath a hooded beaked helm, a great plume of long, glowing, pale white ribbon atop it, the warrior's face was hidden behind a mask of silk, so black it seemed to absorb the very light around it. The only visible features of the warrior were a pair of icy blue eyes, that glowed with a ghostly inner light. In one hand, the warrior held a massive claymore, seemingly forged of living darkness, while the other hand shimmered with a halo of pale blue-green energy. Sweeping his gaze over the villains and monsters, the knight turned to Luna, speaking in a voice that was soft as a whisper, yet explosive as thunder. "My Lady, the call of these fillies and colts has awakened me from my slumber, am I to fight once more at your side?" Luna nodded.

"Indeed my beloved knight, I require your strength to show these abominations, that their vile actions shall not be tolerated in my domain!" The knight nodded.

"Then don thy armor and sing out thy battle hymn my Lady! That all evil shall know the error of their trespass!" Luna only nodded in reply, as a transformation overtook her. Instantly, her crown and peytral seemed to melt, as before the disbelieving eyes of her audience, they transformed. The metal, now turned to an ebony liquid, flowed over Luna's form like a living thing. Engulfing her from horn to hoof in pure darkness. Shifting and changing shape, the darkness coalesced around her body, forming plates of polished obsidian metal that encased her legs and torso. Articulated frames of curving overlapping plates sprouted across the forward edge of her wings, making it seem as if her feathers were growing directly out of the metal. Around her head, a smooth, curving helm, encased her skull, leaving only her face and horn uncovered, as her starry mane spilled out from under the back. On her breastplate and the armor covering her flanks, a crescent moon appeared, in softly glowing mother of pearl. As the metamorphosis completed, music burst out of the very air. As Luna and her knight saluted the surrounding fillies and colts, before jumping from the pillar without a moment's hesitation. Launching themselves at the hoard of monsters, like a vengeful javelin cast from on high.

In a thunderous detonation of crackling blue-white lightning and scattered bodies, the pair landed amidst their foes. The shock wave of their impact sent countless monsters sprawling, as Luna reared up, and began to sing. . . .

(Song Resonance performed by AmaLee)

Slamming her front hooves down on the ground, a rippling shock wave of mystic energy shot through the earth from where Luna stood. Blasting through the ranks of those few nightmares still standing before her. Some were instantly reduced to puffs of smoke and shadow, while others were sent smashing through their fellow monsters like a tidal wave impacting a sandcastle. Not waiting for the monsters to recover, the knight rushed into the breach created by Luna, his body a blur of motion. Swinging his gigantic sword one handed around his body in an elegant twirl. A dozen nightmares were instantly rendered into psychic vapor, the blade slicing through them as easily as a fish's fins cut through water. Ending his spin, the knight crouched, falling easily into a kneeling guard position. Facing princess Luna, and with his back to the enemy. Recovering quicker than their reeling fellows, a giant spider with fangs the size of scimitars, its eyes glowing with a vile red light, and an animated pony corpse screaming for brains, instantly charged the warrior's undefended rear.

Princess Luna appeared before her champion as if by magic, her eyes blazing as she glared at the oncoming monsters. Still singing, she leapt gracefully over the knight's kneeling form, to deliver a flying kick to the pair of dream beasts with her back hooves. The two monstrosities shrieking in pain, as they crashed into the chaotic mass of abominations behind them with meteoric force. A veritable mushroom cloud of discorporated dreamstuff accompanying their impact. Luna, her voice ringing out in flawless harmony with the music, sent a beam of blue and black energy from her horn into the once more staggered hoard. Before twirling around, grabbing her knight's outstretched hand with her hoof, and hurling him over the heads of the screaming tide of subconsciously conjured horrors. Pausing only for an instant, before leaping into the air after him.

With an elegant midair somersault, the knight reversed the grip on his sword, holding it behind his back as he raised a clenched fist, glowing with arcane power. With a detonation that shook the arena, the knight brought his blazing fist slamming into the earth, in an explosion of pale green and white energy. Hundreds of nightmares were instantly turned to mist, while those on the periphery of the detonation were sent hurtling aside, claws, tentacles, and hooves, flailing as they arced through the air. Before bursting like pinatas made of bluish fog.

Not content to rest, the Knight gripped his sword in two hands, spinning it artfully in front of him as he charged the rapidly thinning ranks of monsters, in a blur of movement. Cutting down all that stood in his path with sweeping elegant strikes. Luna appeared at his side in a flicker of light, flying just above the ground as she matched his speed, blasting her foes with beams of pure white energy. As the pair once again entered the pressing hoard of the enemy, they seemed momentarily to become a single entity.

The knight cleaved apart a mass of darkness with far too many eyes floating within it, splitting it with a horizontal strike before it dissolved. Instantly, Luna rushed beneath his swing, as the knight twirled around, blasting away a malformed version of Tirek with wings and fleshy tendrils, before spinning to her left, and landing a bone crushing kick to the head of a Discord facsimile with two mouths. Following Luna's movements perfectly, the knight stayed directly behind her, sending his sword swinging into an ark at their rear, and taking the heads from a trio of charging timberwolves made of shadow and purple flame.

Twirling and dodging around each other, the princess and the knight truly seemed to become one, their movements flowing together, as if they could read one another's thoughts. The knight cut down a chimera before blasting away a half dozen bugbears with a beam of green and white energy from his hand. For a moment, it appeared he had left himself vulnerable, a screeching swarm of changelings charging straight at him while he was off balance. But, as if it was choreographed, Luna leapt over her champion, flipping in mid air to bring the back of her right rear hoof down on the lead changeling's skull. Before sending a crescent shaped blast of blue energy scything through the rest of the swarm, cutting them apart in puffs of bluish mist, before landing lightly on her hooves. All the while, the night princess sang, her movements and strikes in perfect sync with both her partner, and the music.

In almost no time at all, the nightmare hoard was reduced down to a mere hundred or so individuals. Screeching in a combination of rage and terror, they attempted to surround Luna and her knight, charging at them from all directions. Luna and her champion glanced at each other. Before, with a smirk and a nod, Luna flared her armored wings, blasting into the sky at the last possible second. Grabbing her knight by his outstretched hand and pulling him into the starry void overhead. Meanwhile, the monsters, unable to change direction in time, smashed into each other in a tangle of limbs, horns, and tentacles, screaming and roaring in hatred and pain. Ascending like a cannon shot, Luna held securely to her knight, before turning in a tight ark to dive back down towards the ground. Her body glowing with arcane power, Luna spun her knight and herself end over end in mid air, their forms blurring together as they picked up speed, till finally. . . they parted.

Like a comet from the heavens, the knight hurtled toward the ground, and the tangled mass of his foes, his sword raised overhead in both hands. While above him, Princess Luna reared back, halting her spin with a flare of her wings, focusing the eldritch energies still clinging to her fur and armor into the tip of her horn. Just as the knight was about to strike the ground, Luna jerked her head forward, sending a bolt of blazing white energy and crackling black lightning, straight into her champion. In an explosion that seemed to shake the entire dream realm, the knight struck the earth. A blinding nova of purifying white light turned the world monochrome. Obliterating the remaining nightmares, as easily as a hurricane snuffs a candle flame. The last of the monsters destroyed, Luna slammed down next to her knight in a regal pose, just as the music ended.

Across the islands surrounding the arena, the fillies and colts, Buttercup included, cheered and whooped. Stomping their hooves in approval, as the princess and the knight took a bow. With a smile, Luna waved to the crowd, as her armor dissipated into smoke, leaving her in her usual royal regalia. Next to her, the knight removed his helmet to smile gently at their screaming audiance. With long hair like an ebon waterfall, and eyes like chips of ice, Derran Grandel inclined his head in humble thanks, as his sword vanished from his hand in the same manner as Luna's armor. Stepping forward, Luna magnified her voice as she addressed the crowd.

"Thank you! Thank you my little ponies! We are so glad you enjoyed the show! But now, tis' time for you to wake and greet the day! May your future dreams be restful, and your mornings filled with joy!" She declared. The fillies and colts continued to cheer and applaud as, in ones and twos, they faded gradually from view, before vanishing in puffs of blue vapor. In no time at all, Luna and Derran were alone in the arena.

"Another flawless performance my Lady." Derran remarked, only to let out a grunt of surprise, as Luna jumped up to throw her hooves around his neck. Giggling like a school filly, Luna was practically hopping up and down with joy.

"Oh beloved, this is wonderful! I haven't enjoyed my job this much in ages!" Derran arched an eyebrow in response.

"Oh? Surely this cannot be that different from how you did things before?" Luna shook her head.

"Not at all, it is far more efficient this way! Plus, having you at my side makes it all the better! I still can't believe this is possible! If you will pardon the expression, it is like a dream come true!" Derran chuckled.

"Well it was your and Lady Celestia's blessing that made me what I am. It makes sense that some phantom version of your unique divine abilities might be included in that blessing." Luna rolled her eyes slightly at that, but kept smiling as she released Derran.

"I am just glad that Twilight discovered how to make the enhanced dreamwalking spell work. How she figured it out, I cannot imagine." Derran grinned as he nodded.

"Lady Twilight is a true treasure." He declared feelingly.

"You are heading off to see her tomorrow are you not?" Luna asked, her horn glowing as she began to deconstruct the pocket dream dimension around them. Derran nodded, as the starry abyss and islands surrounding the arena, dissolved into indistinct fog.

"I am indeed. As per usual, I shall spend the next week, starting tomorrow morning, in Ponyville." Here he smirked as he caressed Luna's cheek with a finger. "However, until then, I am all yours." Luna shuddered with delight as she leaned into her beloved's touch.

"A pity we haven't more time tonight. We could drop in on Tia, and; make her dreams come true." Luna declared with a salacious giggle. Derran chuckled.

"But if we did that, how would I make you both a breakfast worthy of two of the mares I love most?" Luna smirked as she placed herself in a dramatic pose. Her head turned away slightly, as she brought the back of one hoof to her forehead.

"Such a burden you place upon your princesses! Forcing us to choose between that which we cannot live without, and that which we need to live! You are cruel my love!" Derran chuckled, a slight grin on his face as he replied.

"My dearest beloved. . ." He began, his tone one of gentle rebuke, as if explaining to a filly why she wasn't allowed to eat ice cream for every meal. "If I gave you everything you desired all the time, we would never leave your and your sister's bedchambers, and the holy land would fall to ruin." Luna's smirk widened as her horn glowed, and the realm of dreams, now a bluish, misty void, melted away into complete darkness. An instant later, Derran opened his eyes, to find himself sitting cross legged on the balcony of Luna's room, his dream armor replaced with a finely tailored suit. Staring out at Canterlot, capital city of Equestria, still cloaked in partial night. As at his side, a sleepy looking, but still grinning, Luna, turned to give him a curt nod.

"Fair enough my love. Off to the kitchen with you then! I shall have my usual." She declared, making a dismissive gesture with her hoof. Derran let out a laugh.

"Now who is cruel? Sending me from the side of the pony I love merely for pancakes?" Luna just shrugged as she stifled a giggle.

"Well, it isn't my sister's turn to prepare the morning meal till tomorrow. But I suppose I could do the cooking, if you prefer?" Derran chuckled as he thought about the last time Luna had tried to make breakfast.

"In the interest of the kingdom not burning down, I will see to it at once my Lady." He declared smartly, rising to his feet and brushing himself off. Luna rolled her eyes.

"It was not that big of a fire!" She protested. "And how was I supposed to know not to throw water on burning grease?" Derran only laughed, as he leaned down to place a loving kiss on Luna's cheek, before turning and heading for the door.

"I will see you and Lady Celestia at the table beloved." He declared smoothly, bowing, as he exited out into the hall.

Derran headed down the corridor toward the kitchens with a calm smile and an even pace. Slowing his stride just a hair, he allowed himself a moment to simply appreciate the peace and quiet, as he, and not for the first time, reflected on his new life. It had been nearly a full year since Derran had returned to Equestria, and his seemingly eternal war had come to an end.

For the first time in a literal age, Derran felt able to breathe easy. Appreciating for the umpteenth time, that, after over a millennia, his life was preoccupied by things other than violence, and the endless struggle for survival. True, there had been that. . . unpleasantness, six months prior. But aside from that, Derran had not needed to either don his armor, nor heft a weapon, in nearly a year. And it was a feeling he wouldn't trade for the world. . . even if it did come with it's own forms of chaos.

Due to his unique love life, not to mention his desire to keep close to his new friends and family, Derran had elected to change his residence at the end of every week. Taking the train from Canterlot to Ponyville every Monday morning, so he might, barring an emergency, spend half his days with Twilight and her friends, and half with Celestia and Luna. It had been a bit hectic at first. However, slowly but surely, Derran had settled into the routine of what he supposed he could consider his 'retirement'. Derran chuckled to himself, all but rolling his eyes at the thought. Whom would have ever believed the great and terrible 'Doom Slayer', would retire? Although, again, his new life did have its own. . . challenges. Most notably, the ones arising from his newfound status in the holy city of Canterlot. One Derran found himself increasingly dubious of. . . .

It had begun when, in an effort to make his beloved Celestia's life a little easier, Derran had taken it as his sacred duty to aid her in caring for the day to day needs of the kingdom. Taking on, what he had intended to be, a strictly secretarial role. Indeed, it had all started simply enough, with Derran tending to paperwork, and reviewing various proposals from the nobility, all things done comfortably out of sight and behind a desk. However, it hadn't taken long for Celestia to begin requesting he accompany her to her various meetings and appointments, as well as diplomatic and social functions.

She had insisted he would be merely an observer, and was there mostly for emotional support, or, as she preferred to describe it, as: 'eye candy'. She also assured him that his considerable, albeit unwanted, celebrity, and the respect ponies had for him, would lend extra weight to various diplomatic receptions, charitable proceedings, and social appearances. That said, and despite his own insistence, and the princesses declaration that he was naught but a bystander to such events, his opinion swiftly became much sought after.

The nobility and visiting dignitaries were oddly eager to hear the judgement of the 'Uncrowned King'. Despite his having no official political or financial power, and having just spoken with a literal divine being. It was as if they thought his words were some scrying pool from which they could glean a glimpse of things to come, or more likely, and not entirely wrongly, they hoped his positive opinion would help sway the solar princess to their various causes. Derran didn't care for the idea of his voice carrying so much weight, real or imagined, within the royal court. Nevertheless, he put his reservations aside for the sake of his beloved. Then, one day, right before a vital meeting with the council of nobles, Celestia sent Derran a note at the last possible minute, telling him she had fallen ill. Luna, she had stated, was busy taking care of her, and Celestia had begged Derran to run the meeting in her stead.

Determined to do his utmost, and serve his beloved in her time of need, Derran did as requested without a second thought. Addressing the council on Celestia's behalf. In his zeal to please, and distracted by the desire to end the meeting and help Luna tend to Celestia as swiftly as possible, Derran had run the council as efficiently as he was able. Using every trick and tactic he'd learned growing up as the son of a powerful nobleman and politician, not to mention the former leader of an army of demon slayers, Derran resolved dispute after dispute, and sifted through innumerable bills, blueprints, and proposals. He rejected anything that he considered wasteful, helped adjust anything that had potential, and finally, neatly compiled everything he felt worthy of his ladies direct consideration. He negotiated peace between a number of feuding nobles. And despite his lack of true authority, kept things running smoothly and quickly. Carefully managing the egos and arrogance of the uppitier members of the Canterlot elite, with the alacrity of a true statesman. Only later, would he come to lament playing into so obvious a trap.

By the time the sun had set, Derran had inadvertently, and irreversibly, secured his place as the new 'High Minister of Royal Affairs' in Canterlot. This unwanted title, having been suggested by none other than lord Fancy Pants near the end of the day's meetings. Or, more likely, through him, by his sister Flur De Lys. Who Derran came to realize early on, was the true political and business powerhouse of her family. Her brother acting as the social 'frontcolt' for her shadowy, if benevolent, empire. Unfortunately, before Derran could counter the, to his mind, absurd proposition, he had been interrupted by Celestia herself. Looking the very picture of health, as she walked in and vocally endorsed the idea. And Derran, unable to mount a counter argument in time, was forced to watch, aghast, as nearly every noble in Canterlot swiftly agreed to put it to a vote.

In the end, and after a lengthy period of convincing, and despite his every instinct screaming at him not to, Derran had acquiesced, under two conditions. . . . First, that he would not be troubled by Canterlot business while in Ponyville, and second, that he would never be required to make a decision on anything, no matter how trivial. Derran was fine with relieving the burden of Celestia's job, but he drew a line at passing judgements in her name. Whatever the ponies around him might say, he was not a King. He, was a Guardian, and thus, he had no right to rule on matters above his station. Celestia and the nobles had agreed without complaint, and promptly voted him into the effective position of; 'regent', much to his unspoken chagrin.

Suspicion had later led Derran to attempt to interrogate Celestia on the exact nature of her 'illness', and that of her sudden and miraculous recovery. But he had become. . . distracted, when she and Luna had dragged him off to their bedchambers to, celebrate his promotion. Derran probably should have been angrier about Celestia's, in hindsight, blatantly obvious deception. However, and perhaps unfortunately, his loves were supremely talented at making him forget such things.

As for his assistance with Luna's duties, that was more a happy accident. Luna and Twilight had collaborated to devise a spell that would allow Derran to dreamwalk with her for long periods of time. The original idea being, that even if he couldn't directly assist her, he at least could keep her company during her normally lonesome nocturnal duties. Twilight had, after a period of trial and error, gotten the spell up and running. Allowing Luna to pull Derran's mind into the dream realm with only minimal effort. However, not long after they entered the ethereal dimension on the first trial run of the spell, they were faced with a manifestation of none other than Nightmare Moon herself.

Derran was still unsure whether it was Luna's heartbroken expression at the sight of her corrupted alter ego, or the apparition's vile declarations of its intent to eat the filly who's dream had conjured it, that caused him to snap. But regardless, forgetting his supposed inability to hurt the monster, Derran had charged at it in a blind fury. Bellowing a thunderous warcry, as he obliterated the phantasm with a single punch.

The discovery that Derran could actually slay nightmares, was monumental, and eventually led to Luna coming up with the 'Tournament of Dreams', several months back. A pocket dimension, where they could gather multiple dreamers and nightmares at once, and destroy them as a group. While at the same time, putting on a show for the fillies. Derran had been reluctant at first, having never cared for the idea of violence as a spectator sport, but Luna had eventually persuaded him. In truth though, he had agreed to it chiefly because he hoped it would help Luna get a bit more recognition from her subjects. And in that at least, it had been an overwhelming success. Derran still recalled the overjoyed look on Luna's face the first time a swarm of fillies and colts surrounded her, clamoring for her autograph, and thanking her and her 'knight' for a wonderful night's sleep. The tears of joy in his love's eyes, had easily blown away any doubts Derran had about the tournament's more violent aspects.

Frowning, Derran continued moving down the hall, as his thoughts became suddenly darker. While he truly did love his ladies, and was overjoyed to be able to serve them again, doubts plagued his mind. There was danger in, even with restrictions, becoming over-involved in the affairs of the seraphim. Risks that at times he feared his ladies were blind too. A year ago, Derran had thought he could manage the Equestrian's misplaced admiration for him. Had hoped the seraphs and their children's idea of him being king would fade with time, and eventually disappear. Yet, day by day, his reknown seemed only to become stronger, and while he did his best not to show it, he had found his frustration with the matter becoming ever harder to ignore.

Shaking his head, Derran pulled himself from his inner thoughts. Forcing his doubts from his mind, as he noted the sun finally peaking above the horizon through a nearby window. Entering the dining room through a large double door, Derran moved past the long mahogany table in the center, all set with glittering silver and ready for breakfast to be served. Giving an approving nod as he walked by Rose Petal, the royal florist, as she placed a beautifully arranged bouquet in a crystal vase at the center of the table. With a smile, the earth pony mare gave an enthusiastic wave.

"Hey, Lord Derran! What's on the menu today?" The orange maned and cream coated florist asked enthusiastically. Derran chuckled as he pulled a chef's apron from a hook near the door leading to the kitchen.

"Pancakes with compote and syrup, mushroom pepper and daisy omelets, fresh croissants, and a new tea that Lady Cadence suggested." He replied, fastening the apron over his usual palace attire. A burgundy swallowtail jacket, trimmed in black, and embroidered along the collar and lapels with vine-like designs. This in addition to a black cravat, black vest, black dress pants, and shined black dress shoes. All of which, like every other outfit he owned these days, were enchanted against stains, water, tearing, burning, and, at his personal request and expense; gunfire and knives. "Also, I believe I've told you, and the rest of the palace staff, several times, that you needn't address me as 'Lord', Derran will do just fine." Rose Petal just giggled in reply, as Derran slipped through the kitchen's double doors.

Keeping a brisk pace, Derran moved down a short sloping hallway to the kitchen proper, a brick cube of a room, approximately the size of a large carriage house, smiling as he entered. The kitchen was the one place Derran felt able to accept a little permanent authority. Here alone, would he consent to being 'king'. The palace kitchen was marvelously appointed. With multiple, magically powered, stainless steel ovens, refrigerators, and range stoves, alongside giant countertops of polished marble and a floor of large square, brick red tiles. The royal mess was designed to accommodate everything from banquets to midnight snacks. It was there, where, with wide smiles, excited expressions, and crisply pressed chef's outfits, the royal kitchen staff greeted Derran with a respectful bow.

"Lord Derran!" Piped up Scarlet Cherry, the youngest of the three permanent cooks on staff, and a relatively new hire. "Everything is set up exactly the way you asked, I saw to it personally." The red coated and green maned earth pony mare declared proudly.

"Like you were the only one working!" Snapped her male counterpart, Pepper Glaze. "Lord Derran, I made sure all the berries and ingredients were measured and accounted for, and that the plates are heated and ready for serving." No sooner had the green coated and red maned pegasus finished his slightly self-aggrandizing declaration, than Scarlet Cherry started fuming.

"You big liar! I'm the one who counted out the individual berries!" She snarled. Pepper Glaze just turned his head dismissively and let out a huff.

"Only the strawberries. And everypony knows those are the easiest to count." He stated coolly, a snide edge to his voice.

"Why you!" Scarlet snarled, as she launched herself at Pepper. The pair falling to the floor at Derran's feet, and rolling around on the spotless clay tiles in a tangle of thrashing limbs.

"Brown noser!" Pepper shouted.

"Hoof licker!" Scarlet shot back.

"BRAT!"

"JERK!"

"FLANK FACE!!"

"CHILDREN!!" Roared the voice of the head chef, instantly causing the pair to freeze. Steel Cutlery had been a member of the princesses cooking staff for as long as anypony could remember. And while the elderly, silver maned and tan coated unicorn, was generally a quiet sort, he could still bring down the thunder when needed. "Is this really the sort of behavior you want to display in front of his Lordship?" He asked, with a faint Trottingham accent. Instantly cowed, Scarlet and Pepper swiftly picked themselves up off the floor and brushed themselves off, before bowing profusely to Derran.

"Apologies my Lord! It was entirely my fault!" Pepper Glaze declared, only for Scarlet to instantly shoulder him aside, and send him sprawling back onto the floor.

"No! It was my fault my Lord! Please, allow me to make it up to you!" Picking himself up again, Pepper immediately got into an impromptu shoving match with his fellow chef. As they began to viciously argue over who was most to blame. Steel Cutlery just shrugged wearily as he glanced up at Derran.

"Well, I tried." Derran simply let out a chuckle. Pepper Glaze had only been here a few months longer than Scarlet Cherry, but it hadn't taken long for the two headstrong ponies to begin competing over who had seniority. Despite both being outstanding chefs from some of the best culinary arts schools in Equestria, they couldn't seem to resist acting like school fillies whenever they were around one another. Fortunately, Derran knew one foolproof method to calm them down, as he put on a nostalgic grin.

"Now Master Silver, there is no need to be so harsh. Young love is such a treasure to witness as it blooms. Does it not stir your heart to see it?" As expected, Scarlet and Pepper froze instantly, before separating from one another in a flash. Mutual expressions of disgust, horror, and mute denial, directed at Derran. Steel suppressed a grin, as he slowly nodded in agreement.

"I suppose you have a point my Lord. It does make one feel young again." Scarlet and Pepper opened and shut their mouths a few times as they tried to protest, but Derran interrupted them before they could begin.

"Now then, the order of the day is Pancakes, berry compote, omelets with mushrooms, daisies and peppers, croissants, a pot of the new tea, and of course, a carafe of Lady Luna's favorite saddle arabian coffee." Instantly, the two younger chefs seemed to forget about their feud and embarrassment, as they each gave a sharp salute.

"Yes milord!" The pair cried out in flawless unison, before jetting off to fetch Derran the ingredients he would need. Watching them go, Derran smiled as he clapped his hands together.

"Right, shall we have a bit of music then?" Steel Cutlery nodded.

"I believe I have just the thing my Lord." He replied, as he walked over to a phonograph perched on an out of the way table. Cranking it a few times, he set the needle to the record. Just as Derran moved to stand at the white marble counter, to the side of one of the massive range stoves. Cracking his knuckles, and then his neck, as he rolled his shoulders, Derran pulled a wooden cutting board from a nearby shelf, as the music began to play.

Soundtrack: Golden Touch by Jaxson Gamble

Bobbing his head to the beat for a few seconds, Derran's hands suddenly became a blur as the lyrics began. As he pulled a chopping knife from a magnetized strip mounted above the counter with one hand. And a sizable fistful of button mushrooms, from one of several bowls Pepper Glaze had just set down at his side. With the precision and speed of a machine, Derran swiftly cut the mushrooms into thin lengthwise slices, before pushing them aside. With the knife becoming visible only by dint of the flashes of light reflecting off it, Derran chopped peppers and daisies into the appropriate size. While next to him, Scarlet Cherry placed two pans coated lightly with olive oil on the stove, along with a cast iron griddle.

Without missing a beat, Derran lit the stove with a flick of his hand, and tossed the sliced vegetables into one of the pans. Then, at a snap of his fingers, Steel Cutlery took the bowls of fresh vegetables away, replacing them with one of eggs, and another of pancake batter, that Derran had prepared the previous night. Twirling the knife in his hand, Derran tossed the now unneeded utensil over his shoulder without so much as a glance. Spinning end over end, the razor sharp knife stuck by the flat of its blade to a second magnetic strip above the large double sink with a faint snap. Barely seeming to look at what he was doing, Derran cracked four eggs, two at a time, into the skillet opposite the one containing the sizzling vegetables. Tossing the empty shells to one side, Derran gave a smirk, watching out of the corner of his eye, as Pepper Glaze caught them in a trash bin. Tapping his hooves to the beat as he did so.

As the ponies went about their various duties, bobbing and weaving to the music. Derran agitated the freshly cracked eggs for a few seconds with a whisk. Mixing the whites and yolks slightly before brushing some freshly melted butter, provided by Scarlett Cherry, onto the griddle on the burners above the skillets containing the omelets and omelet filling. Throwing the whisk over his shoulder to land perfectly in the large, brushed steel sink, beneath the already discarded knife, Derran pulled a ladle from the magnetic strip in front of him. With a smile on his face, he twirled the ladle in his hand theatrically, before tossing it up and over his shoulder from behind his back. Snatching it from the air, Derran spun it between his fingers like a baton. Before gripping it firmly, and ladling several generous portions of pancake batter onto the sizzling griddle.

Placing the ladle into the bowl of pancake batter for the moment, Derran noted that Steel Cutlery had already started work on the compote. A mix of slowly heated raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries, sprinkled with a dash of sugar. As he again tossed the cooking veggies for the omelet, Derran held out a hand toward Steel and gave a quick snap of his fingers. Not needing to ask what his lord wanted, Steel Cutlery levitated a small spoonful of the compote to Derran's lips in a sparkling silver aura. As Pepper Glaze placed a bowl of grated cheddar at his elbow, and Scarlet Cherry carefully placed the croissants, made from Derran's personal dough recipe, into a nearby oven. Derran tasted the spoonful, and gave a thumbs up. Pulling a spatula from the magnetic holding strip in a flash of movement, Derran pushed some of the cooked vegetable filling onto the partially cooked egg. Adding a generous portion of cheese and folding the omelet, Derran used a second spatula, appearing in his empty hand as if by magic, to flip the pancakes.

Derran chuckled as he spun around, striking a pose as he flipped the omelet behind his back without so much as glancing at it. Grinning, as his fellow chefs each took a moment to pause and throw out a few dance steps. Pepper Glaze performed a surprisingly elaborate break dancing move, as Scarlet Cherry spun in an elegant pirouette on the tip of her back hoof, as she set a timer for the croissants. Steel Cutlery smiled, as he did a little tap-dance-like shuffle, while stirring the compote. Then, just as swiftly as it began, the impromptu break ended, amid grins and laughter. As Derran turned around to transfer the omelet, and a stack of four pancakes, onto a pair of waiting plates atop a trolley cart Scarlet Cherry had pushed into position behind him. Twirling the two spatulas in his hands, Derran sheathed them in the pockets of his apron for a moment. Before cracking four more eggs into the empty skillet, and ladling another four pancakes worth of batter onto the griddle in a blur of movement. The spatulas appearing spinning in his hands an instant later, is if they never left.

"Whoo! Rock on boss!" Scarlet Cherry whooped, as Pepper Glaze, not wishing to be outdone, clapped his forehooves in excitement. Steel Cutlery just chuckled, already knowing what Derran would say if he weren't concentrating on the second round of omelets and pancakes. An old colloquialism bandied about by the chefs of his world, and that Steel happened to heartily agree with. "The job ain't over till the first bite is taken."

Celestia gave a delicate yawn, as she headed down the red carpet lined hall towards the dining room. Blinking the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes as she passed the castle serving staff, greeting each warmly by name as she went. Entering the dining room, she found Luna already comfortably seated at the table in her usual spot.

"Good morning sister! You slept well I hope?" Luna asked, her voice surprisingly chipper for somepony just coming off the night shift. Celestia smiled, had she known how much a little help in the dream realm would improve her sister's mornings, she'd have looked into getting her an assistant ages ago. Granted, it was unlikely anycreature besides Derran actually could do it, but it still would have been worth the attempt.

"I did indeed Luna, how was last night's performance?" Luna smiled radiantly.

"It was, as they say these days; a smashing success!" She replied, slightly giddy. Celestia chuckled in response, it really was a joy to see her sister so happy.

"Delighted to hear it. I take it our 'valiant knight' is busy with breakfast?" Luna opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off before she could start, as the double doors to the kitchen swung open.

"Breakfast is served!" Derran declared, as he pushed a trolley laden with silver plate covers into the room. "Courtesy of the royal kitchen staff." He added, nodding his head at the three chefs currently holding the doors as he passed. Steel Cutlery just let out a good natured laugh.

"Maybe if you ever allowed us to cook something my Lord." He declared with a smile, causing the princesses to giggle. Derran simply chuckled.

"You wound me master Steel. Besides, I let you make the compote? Surely I don't need to tell you how many recipes live or die on the quality of their sauces?" He offered with a smirk. Steel Cutlery just shook his head, his grin widening.

"Compote isn't exactly rocket science my Lord." He replied. Derran grinned.

"This coming from the infamous former food critic and master chef: Steel Cutlery? The one whom made his name by terrifying cooks he considered mediocre into compliance?" He inquired with teasing disbelief.

"That was a long time ago my Lord." Steel replied. "I like to think old age has mellowed me somewhat. That said, if you don't want the credit, I'll happily add it to my resume." Derran chuckled as he wheeled the trolley next to the table, and placed a pair of covered plates in front of Celestia and Luna.

"I have no use for credit." He declared, as he pulled the coverings from each plate with a flourish. Revealing the perfectly cooked omelettes topped with a dash of sriracha and a sprinkle of fresh cilantro. As well as twin piles of exactly circular pancakes, covered in golden maple syrup, dark, wine colored berry sauce, and just a dollop of whipped cream. "My only desired reward is of a far more. . . spiritual nature." He said softly, as he watched Celestia and Luna's faces light up at the sight of the lovingly prepared meal. Steel Cutlery, just smiled.

"And that's why you're the Uncrowned King." He declared with a chuckle. "Anything else before the kids and I go?" He asked, jerking his head towards Scarlet and Pepper.

"Well, other than requesting for the millionth time that you drop all that 'my Lord' and 'Uncrowned King' nonsense. Nothing in particular springs to mind." He replied with a smile. Steel just shook his head, grinning as he and his two sous chefs retreated back into the kitchen.

"Have a pleasant meal, your highness's." He remarked over his shoulder, just as the doors swung shut behind him. Derran shook his head, as he took his own plate, and moved to sit with Celestia and Luna. Both of whom were doing their level best to eat with proper manners, despite dearly wishing to gorge themselves on their love's spectacular food.

"I don't suppose one can appeal the court of public opinion?" Derran asked with a weary sigh, even as a small, if mildly strained, smile, adorned his features. Celestia nearly choked, as she laughed with a mouth full of partially masticated pancakes, as Luna snorted into her coffee.

"If you ever figure out how, do promise to share the secret won't you?" Luna replied with a chuckle, as she levitated a napkin to dab at her muzzle. Celestia nodded, as she swallowed her food and took a sip of tea.

"Will you be heading into town today? I seem to recall the other day you mentioned some errands you needed to run? She inquired, as Derran dug into his own pancakes and omelette.

"Indeed, I have a few items to pick up before my trip tomorrow, and I need to do a bit of shopping for dinner tonight." Celestia opened her mouth to reply, only to close it as the door to the hall opened, and a unicorn with an overstyled black and gray mane, pale white coat, and pencil thin mustache, entered. Wearing a tailcoat similar to Derran's, but done entirely in an obnoxiously loud metallic blue, and with a cutie mark displaying a silver horseshoe superimposed with a quill. He carried a silver platter on which a small stack of letters rested. His voice a sycophantic whine as he spoke.

"Your most eminent majesty!" Grand Chamberlain Silverhoof greeted, looking directly at princess Celestia as if she were the only one in the room. "This morning's mail, as per usual." He declared, his voice dripping with self importance, as he presented the platter to Celestia. However, his smiling expression swiftly dimmed, as Derran spoke up.

"Rather light for two princesses." Derran declared evenly, his voice and expression betraying not so much as a trace of sarcasm. Silverhoof's grey eyes narrowed, his smile becoming strained. As he turned to look at the alien warrior who had become the bane of his existence over the last year.

"Oh. . . yes. . . I seem to have forgotten yours and princess Luna's. My apologies Lord Derran." Silverhoof replied, his tone utterly failing to sound sincere. Derran nodded slowly, as if buying for even a moment that the arrogant prig of a chamberlain was actually in any way sorry.

"Oh, no need to worry, the matters of mere servants such as ourselves is of no great importance. However, Lady Luna's mail is no doubt quite a bit more weighty in nature." Derran's voice sounded, for all the world, completely serious. Even though he knew full well, that the mountains of mail Luna received these days were mostly fan letters, resulting from her increased public profile. Continuing to speak, Derran's tone contained not an ounce of mockery, yet Silverhoof's jaw tightened all the same as he went on. "The matters of the Seraphim of the Night are quite beyond simplistic, bestial minds, such as you and I posses. Low creatures that we are. As such, I must insist that you retrieve her divine majesty's mail, one might never know the calamity even a second's hesitation in their delivery might bring!" Luna and Celestia struggled to maintain an air of quiet dignity, even as they felt like they might explode with restrained laughter. Silverhoof meanwhile, struggled to prevent his teeth from grinding.

"Surely, there is nothing that cannot wait until after Lun-."

"Lady Luna." Derran cut in. His smile and tone that of an indulgent parent correcting a toddler. Silverhoof's face flushed, his eye twitching as he nodded.

"Yes, of course, until after Lady Luna, has finished her meal?" Derran's expression became one of shock and mild horror.

"Would you truly take such a chance?!" He asked, his tone filled with incredulity. " My dear Silverhoof, Lady Luna is thee Seraphim of the Night! The Mistress of Dreams! The Matron of the Moon! Before her divinely empowered form, we are but insignificant crawling worms, unfit to breathe the same air as her immaculate eminence!" Derran declared stridently, his right hand raised in an over dramatic gesture of proclamation as he went on. "You and I are lowly wretched scum in comparison to her! Inferior beings unable to grasp in a thousand lifetimes, the knowledge that for her takes but moments to process! Measured against her we are but dogs! No, not even dogs! We are swine! Rolling in our own filth as she benevolently charts the course of the realm of dreams! Even the most insignificant communique, delayed by so much as an instant, could spell disaster! Those letters may be the only thing between the salvation and destruction of the holy land! Thus I must implore you master Silverhoof, for the good of us all, to retrieve the missives in question post haste!" Silverhoof's face turned an ugly shade of puce, as he struggled to maintain his composure. His eye twitching, as he saw Luna and Celestia turn and hide their faces behind their napkins. Trembling, as they forced themselves not to laugh with a herculean effort of will.

"Surely there is no need to-." Silverhoof was cut off, as Derran's demeanor suddenly changed, his expression darkening, as he glared into Silverhoof's eyes. The shadows around the ancient warrior seemed to flicker strangely, as the chamberlain suddenly found it harder to breath. The air thickening and catching in his throat.

"As I said earlier: I insist." Derran stated, his low, growling tone alone, seeming to chill the very air. As for an instant, his icy blue gaze, flashed blood red. Silverhoof, his rage transformed instantly into terror, simply nodded, his face visibly paling, as a cold sweat trickled from his brow. Backing away a step, he only barely kept his spiking fear from his stuttering reply.

"O-of course my Lord, I-I-I'll see to it immediately!" Silverhoof declared, as he all but galloped for the door. For several seconds after the door to the hall slammed shut behind him, there was silence. Celestia, Luna and Derran, looking at each other for a few moments, before shaking the castle with their combined laughter. . . .

"Heading out my Lord?"

Derran turned to regard Honored Sword, one of the four guards currently stationed at the royal palace entrance. Dressed in the traditional enchanted gold armor of the royal EUP guard, his black mane and yellow coat just barely visible beneath it. Derran nodded, and was pleased to see the pegasus never took his eyes off the gate he was guarding.

"I am indeed, a few errands to run before my journey tomorrow. The castle and our Ladies shall be in your hooves while I am gone. Think you're up for it soldier?" Still keeping his focus on his job, Honored Sword gave a smart salute as he banged the butt of his spear on the ground.

"Sir yes sir!" He replied, his face set and determined.

Derran nodded approvingly. The Earth Unicorn Pegasus Guard, was one of the few areas of the royal court besides meal preparation, where Derran had taken a willing direct hand in matters. After analyzing their abysmal performance during the first changeling invasion, and due to finding innumerable other discrepancies and errors in their performance during various other crises, Derran had taken it upon himself to completely redesign their rules of engagement, and training regimen. He had insisted on requiring every EUP member, regardless of rank, taking a variety of equine martial art classes. Had all but rewritten their field manual, and spent a month personally training their officer core. However, despite all his improvements, at the end of the day, he was adamant that the EUP Guard was better off in search and rescue, or disaster management, not direct combat.

Ponies by and large, simply didn't have the ruthlessness needed to be effective soldiers. Even in the ancient past, before the princesses reign, when they had needed proper armies, ponies fought to disable or drive off the enemy, not kill them. Really, most of what Derran had done with the EUP, as far as combat was concerned, was instill stricter discipline, make them better sentries, and polish up their defensive techniques and strategies. The rest of his instruction and alterations, focused on skills that more suited the ponies temperament. Like crowd control, evacuation procedures, and administering first aid in the field. In the end however, Derran felt that was all that was needed. The EUP didn't need to be, and in his view; must never become, killers. Narcissistic though it might sound to say aloud. The EUP just needed to hold the line, till Derran got there to handle the unpleasant bits, so that is what he prepared them for. Thanks to his efforts, the royal guard could spot almost any intruder a mile away, fortify the castle to resist attack for days, or even weeks, on end, or evacuate the entire city in less than an hour or two. The EUP would never be warriors like Derran, but he now had no doubt whatsoever that they could, and would, save lives.

"Well said soldier." Derran declared with a smile. "Though, if you please, 'Derran' will do just fine." The gold armored pegasus just gave a faint nod, slamming his spear to the ground once more, his eyes never straying from the approaches he was watching.

"As you say, Lord Derran sir." He declared evenly, a faint grin on his face. Derran arched an eyebrow, even as he shook his head in exasperation, and headed toward the street. As he left, Derran had to carefully school his expression to avoid laughing, as one of the other guards,'Stoic Phalanx', if Derran matched the voice right, addressed Honored Sword.

"You know he could kick your flank through a mountain, right?"

Derran's entrance into the hustle and bustle of Canterlot's streets was met, as per usual, with what the locals would call 'polite interest', but which was often better described as: 'blatant staring'. Granted, there was at least far less of it than there had been a year ago. Back then, everypony, from nobility and reporters, to farmers and fillies, had swarmed him in a mob whenever he tried to go anywhere. Though tempting, Derran knew better than to run from the unwanted attention. Instead, he had stood outside the gate for hours at a time, fielding questions, posing for photos, and, to his well hidden annoyance, signing autographs. It had taken a few weeks, but eventually, the furor had died down, as Derran became a common fixture of Canterlot. Even so, he still had plenty of ponies watching him wherever he went, or occasionally approaching him, seeking comment on some subject or other, but at least the street blockading mobs were gone.

"My, my, my, ever the dashing gentlecolt, aren't you my Lord?" Derran chuckled at the sound of a refined feminine voice, with an ever so slight Prench accent. Grinning, as he turned to see Fleur De Lis's perfectly coiffed mane and mysterious smile, as she looked him up and down.

"Good morning Lady Fleur. Thank you, it is a new outfit, based on a design from the far east of D'nur. Lady Rarity wanted to experiment with some uniforms based on what fashion concepts I could recall from my former homeworld. I am glad you approve." The outfit Derran had changed into before heading out, had a loose, black, single breasted dress shirt, fastened by a row of three large silver buttons in the front. The shirt also featured a starched collar, and pocket on the left breast, trimmed in white along the top. And poking out from the slightly shorter than average sleeves, were the cuffs of a second white dress shirt with no collar, worn beneath the first. A pair of baggy pants were fastened to his waist by a broad white belt, with a simple steel buckle. While just before the pant leggings reached his shoes, they were bound securely to his legs with strips of white cloth. As for the shoes, they were actually better described as sturdy sandals, fastened to his stocking feet by thick strips of red leather. Finally, and most notably, on the back of Derran's black shirt, was the symbol of the Doom Slayer, done in blazing red.

"There was a lovely coat of sorts that went with it, but I felt it was a trifle too warm for it." Derran explained with a smile. Fleur simply gave a demure giggle.

"Well it suits you, très héroïque." She remarked. Derran simply sighed.

"The outfit perhaps, but the same cannot be said of its wearer." He stated firmly, his expression becoming a frown. Fleur shook her head with a smile, struggling not to roll her eyes.

"Well, we are all entitled to our opinions I suppose." She replied, before gesturing in the direction Derran was going with her head. "Escort a lady to the market?" She asked with a coy smile, offering Derran a perfectly manicured hoof. He smirked, as he ever so slightly raised an eyebrow.

"Of course." Derran replied after a moment's pause. Taking the proffered limb, and allowing Fleur to fall into step beside him. "It will give me an opportunity to ask what your true scheme is." He declared with a chuckle. Fleur gave him a look of mock hurt, as they walked along the polished white cobblestone street.

"My Lord, I would never." She declared smoothly, as she waved cheerily to a passing pair of mares Derran didn't recognize, and whom giggled coquettishly at the sight of them. "I do have a small request though." She declared airily, her tone and impish smile, doing little to dissuade her escort of her underlying intent. Derran gave Fleur a look.

"Phrasing a scheme as a 'request', does not change its nature my Lady." He stated calmly. Fleur's smile became a knowing smirk.

"Perhaps, but as you yourself clearly recognize, I am a Lady." She declared.

"Dare I ask what that has to do with the matter?" Derran inquired with a slight grin. Fleur's smirk widened by just a hair.

"A Lady does not 'scheme' my Lord, she merely alters the situation to her advantage." She declared, as though simply stating a fact. Derran let out a chuckle at that.

"If I may be forgiven for saying so my Lady; in another life you would have made an excellent villain. But very well, what is this 'small request'?" He inquired. As they maneuvered through the crowd, Fleur De Lis cleared her throat.

"Well you see, the Canterlot fashion show is coming up soon, and I was wondering if I might twist your arm into putting in an appearance as a model?" Derran only barely managed to conceal his surprise, as he glanced at Fleur with a curious expression.

"Forgive my ignorance, but why would you desire a human at a fashion show for ponies?" Fleur simply smiled.

"This show is special. It will feature clothes created and modeled by not just ponies, but Yaks, Changelings, Griffons, Dragons, and even a few Hippogriffs. The whole thing is intended as a way to help bring creatures from across the world closer together." She declared enthusiastically.

"The Hippogriff empire is sending a group? They only just finished repairs on Mount Aris." Derran remarked. Not long after the. . . incident, six months ago, Celestia had sent Derran, Twilight, and their friends, to Mount Aris on a diplomatic mission. When they had arrived at the ruin that was Hippogriffia, they had initially despaired at finding anycreature alive. Fortunately, they had run into the crowned princess of the Hippogriffs, Skystar, who had led them to her kin's hidden underwater enclave of Seaquestria. Things had moved quite quickly after that. Derran had been heralded, much against his will, as a national hero to Seaquestria and Hippogriffia. Queen Novo had even insisted on making him an honorary Hippogriff. And had declared, that among her citizens, he would bear the title of: The Storm Eternal. A rather on the nose snub, in Derran's opinion, of the deceased Storm King. After that, old alliances had swiftly been revived, and made stronger than ever, as Equestria sent workers and material to assist in rebuilding Mount Aris.

Derran had been less than pleased with the reminder of the Doom Slayer's actions during the Storm King's attack, and even more displeased that he was being lauded 'again' as a hero for it. However, not wishing to be rude, or worse yet, jeopardize the newly reforged alliance, he bore it without comment. Though he did insist on himself and Twilight telling the full story to Queen Novo, behind closed doors. Granted, the truth hadn't seemed to change much. With Queen Novo simply saying that, while she agreed the Doom Slayer had done some terrible things, the net result had been a positive one. Derran wasn't entirely convinced of that, but kept his misgivings silent, as he thanked the queen for her understanding.

"They have indeed, I understand their Queen was quite enthusiastic about the idea." Fleur replied, snapping Derran out of his recollection. "So, what do you say? It would be a shame not to include the only human in Equestria in the show?" Derran paused for a bit, turning the idea over in his head. Truth be told, he'd rather avoid the spotlight, already having far more celebrity than he cared for. On the other hand, the event wouldn't be about him, all he'd be doing is walking up and down a runway in different outfits. As long as he didn't have to speak, or single himself out in any way, he could be written off as a curiosity. That said, he wasn't entirely sold on the idea. That was when Fleur gave him a sly look. "Did I mention that this little venture was all Rarity's idea?" Derran looked down at Fleur with a cocked eyebrow.

"Careful my Lady, your guile is showing." He stated with a faint frown. Pausing for a few moments more, Derran let out a sigh. "Very well, I will agree to it, on the condition that proceeds from the event go towards helping with the construction of Lady Twilight's new school. And as long as you don't ask me to do anything more than model clothing." Fleur simply smiled.

"Easily done my Lord." She replied, and Derran gave a knowing smile.

"Especially since you and Lord Fancy Pants are financing the entire thing, correct?" Now it was Fleur's turn to hide her surprise, she had thought she had kept the preparations thus far reasonably under wraps.

"You are well informed my Lord. It's almost enough to make one suspect you anticipated this meeting." Derran just chuckled.

"Yes. . . almost." He replied, as Fleur and he came to a stop before a wrought iron gate in front of a particularly large mansion.

"Well, this is my stop I'm afraid. Thank you for the escort my Lord." Fleur declared with a slight bow. Derran arched an eyebrow as he gave a small chuckle and released her hoof.

"I thought you said you were going to the market?" Fleur simply smirked at him, as she opened the gate.

"Did I now?" She asked mischievously, as she slipped inside. "I'm afraid I can't recall. See you for tea the Wednesday after next?" Derran let out another soft chuckle.

"I would not miss it for the world. Give your brother my best my Lady." He replied with a polite bow.

"Of course my Lord, and do give mine to the Princesses." Fleur declared, returning the bow with a slight flourish. Derran shook his head, as he turned and started walking back toward his original goal. Before pausing and staring up at the late morning sky. Wondering if agreeing to Fleur's request had been the right decision. A moment later, he gave a mirthless laugh.

"How is it, that despite all my efforts to avoid it, I have somehow managed to become my father?" He asked, before shaking his head, and again heading towards the market.

Times of Peace

"There is no such thing as peace. . . merely a pause between battles."

-Unknown D'nurian General

Glittering Pages cursed her absentmindedness to Tartarus. Around her, the glum faced fillies and colts of Canterlot Prep's first grade class, stared at her in heartrending disappointment. While the ice cream vendor just gave Glitter a helpless shrug.

"Oh horse apples!" Glitter mumbled worriedly to herself. "Things were going so well up to now too!" Deciding that a beautiful sunny day shouldn't be spent cooped up in a stuffy classroom, Glitter had taken her class on a sort of field trip through the various gardens and parks of Canterlot. They had spent hours that morning learning about the various plants and animals they saw in the gardens, and the various historic buildings of the city. Then, on a whim, and feeling a bit sweaty, Glitter had declared that she was treating them all to ice cream after an early lunch. Only to discover that in her haste that morning, she had forgotten her bit pouch.

With a miserable expression, Glittering Pages turned to give the bad news to her students. She hated disappointing her students. Glitter had always done her best to make sure she was somepony her students could depend on, and come to with their problems. She strove to be more than just their teacher, but also their friend and confidant, just as her teachers had done for her as a filly. Unfortunately, while she may have been an excellent educator, Glittering Pages was a bit scatterbrained about pretty much everything not directly involving her students. She was constantly misplacing things or forgetting appointments with friends, and even once almost burned her house down when she forgot to take the kettle off the stove. Despite her forgetfulness in general though, she had never let it apply, even tangentially, to her students. Glitter knew every one of their full names, and their parents names, by heart. She knew how each student learned best, what their favorite foods and colors were, and she'd cut off her own hoof before she'd miss a meeting with a worried parent. Never once had her forgetful nature intruded upon her teaching or her students' enjoyment of learning. . . until now.

"I. . . I'm sorry students, I seem to have forgotten my-." Glitter was cut off, as a large shadow loomed over her.

"One for myself, and one for all my friends, if you would be so kind." The voice was deep, but youthful, and brought with it at once a sense of calm and reassurance, along with an almost electric feeling of authority, power, and a faint twinge of fear. Glitter knew that voice, she had only ever heard it once in pony, and a year had passed since then. But nopony who'd heard that voice could ever forget it. As Glitter turned toward the speaker, she caught a glimpse of her students' expressions of absolute awe, and the ice cream salespony with his eyes bugged out, and his mouth hanging open. Glittering Pages felt her breath catch in her throat, as the being some called the 'Equestrian God of War', extended a five fingered hand, filled with shining golden bits. "Will this cover it?" He asked, as he gave a gentle smile. Unable to respond with words, the salespony just nodded dumbly.

Derran smiled, as he waved goodbye to the group of schoolfillies and their still slightly starstruck teacher. They had wanted him to stay, and under normal circumstances he happily would have. Unfortunately he was running a bit late for his next appointment, so he had been forced to offer his apologies, and make a quick exit. Truth be told, his hurry was why he had cut through the park in the first place, as it offered a more direct route to his target. However, he happened to take note of the flustered adult mare surrounded by a group of fillies, looking increasingly frantic as she searched through her saddle bags.

Glancing at the ice cream cart and vendor the group were in front of, it hadn't taken much for Derran to put the pieces together. He supposed he could have just let it go, indeed should have, for the sake of punctuality, but he just couldn't stand to let the foals be disappointed. Much as he hated running late, Derran hated seeing the tears of children far more. That said, he could quite happily do without the awestruck expressions of the teacher and ice cream vendor.

Likely the soft pink coated and violet maned mare who was the fillies teacher, had thought him mystically summoned by her plight. There were more than a few such rumors that Derran had heard about himself, that ascribed him such absurd abilities. To the point that sometimes it almost seemed a grand jest. Derran stopped to help a few ponies during his day to day, and suddenly he was some sort of benevolent phantom, come to heroically save the citizens of Equestria from minor emergencies? How could anycreature not laugh at such an absurd notion? The mundane truth was that Derran just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and had an almost obsessive inability to ignore any problem he felt he could reasonably fix. After all, if buying ice cream and helping old mares cross the street were deeds worthy of legend, then half the citizens of Canterlot, and most of Ponyville, were national heroes.

Swiftly finishing his vanilla cone with chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles, Derran winced as he glanced at his pocket watch. Well, if he wasn't late before, then by the Light's holy grace, he most certainly was now. Increasing his stride, Derran headed for the fashion and art district of Canterlot with as much speed as he could while still maintaining dignity. It wasn't that his appointment was particularly time sensitive, or that the pony he was meeting would be offended, Derran simply despised making anycreature wait. If Derran Grandel said he would arrive at a certain time, then that was when he would arrive, no ifs' ands' or buts. It was a matter of principle. With that thought in mind, Derran halted abruptly before his destination. The Canterlot branch of Rarity's burgeoning fashion empire; Canterlot Carousel.

Pushing open the door with a small smile, Derran was heralded by the tinkling of a bell somewhere in the back. The boutique was lightly populated, the elegant grandfather clock against the right wall indicating it being slightly past noon. The few customers present stared at Derran with what they likely thought was well concealed awe. Despite plenty of ponies having gotten used to him over the last year, most it seemed still couldn't help but stare when he was physically present. Fortunately it didn't last for too long, and the ponies soon turned back to their shopping. Albeit, amid hushed conversations with those nearby. Typically beginning with something along the lines of: 'can you believe the Uncrowned King is here?' That Derran did his level best to ignore, despite feeling a slight tightening in his jaw.

Glancing around, Derran smiled as he saw the various masterpieces Rarity had on display. Everything from casual sportswear, to magnificent formal gowns and tuxedos. Derran arched an eyebrow as he noticed, among the various ponnequins, a single human shaped one, positioned carefully in front of a window. Wearing a magnificent formal suit, with a very specific symbol stitched onto the breast pocket. The same one currently on Derran's back. The obvious advertisement of Derran's patronage often struck him as a bit crass. But considering Rarity had asked his permission beforehoof, and that she was just about the only pony he ever bought clothes from, on top of being as good as family, and Derran wasn't really in a position to refuse. Besides, whatever he might have thought of it, Derran couldn't argue that Canterlot Carousel was now the most popular clothing shop in all of Canterlot.

"Sashes and sequins! Lord Derran, how are you?!" Asked in an enthusiastic, but elegant, voice. Derran smiled as he caught sight of the familiar, orange with blond highlights mane, of Canterlot Carousel's manager. As she sashayed toward him with a beaming smile.

"Quite well, Lady Saddles, please forgive my tardiness. Between the market, and a small incident in the park, I was unavoidably delayed." Sassy Saddles smiled as she approached, holding out her right forehoof so Derran could take it and incline his head over her fetlock, in a mock kiss.

"Oh dear, I hope it was nothing serious?" She asked, as she withdrew her hoof, and Derran straightened up, genuine concern in her voice. Derran just chuckled.

"Nothing of any great concern, just a small matter of a mare having misplaced her wallet." Derran explained, hoping against hope that his minor good deed could be glossed over without further comment. A forlorn hope indeed in the holy city of Canterlot. If there was one thing the citizens of Canterlot, Sassy especially, loved, it was gossip. Almost to the point that the city seemed to run on it. Derran fully expected that by the time he returned to the castle, ponies would claim with a completely straight face, that he had saved the class of students from a thousand rampaging hydras, with nothing but his bare fists and a garden gnome. Fortunately, Sassy forwent any further questions.

"Ah, that's a relief. May I assume then, that you are here to pick up your order?" Derran chuckled as he nodded.

"Indeed, my thanks for being so expedient." Sassy simply giggled as she headed behind the sales counter.

"Anything for our best, and most heroic, client." She declared happily, as she levitated a large bag onto the counter next to the register. Derran tried not to flinch at the word 'heroic', as he took the bag monogrammed with a pair of interlaced calligraphic C's, containing his outfit, knowing it was pointless to rebuke her.

"You flatter me, my Lady. May I also inquire as to how Ladies Celestia and Luna's gala dresses are coming along?" Sassy nodded happily.

"You may indeed my Lord. Rarity hasn't quite finished them yet. Unfortunately, she didn't give me the specifics of the timetable. She wanted the big reveal to be a surprise, and you know how she is with attention to detail." Derran chuckled.

"Very much so. Speaking of, I was approached outside the castle by Lady Fleur De Lis. You never mentioned Lady Rarity desired me to model for the Canterlot fashion show when last we spoke?" Sassy smirked.

"Bonnets and bows my Lord, if I told you everything, how would we ever surprise you?" Derran gave a good natured roll of his eyes. Sassy, in addition to being a good friend, was also one of Derran's primary sources of information on what the Canterlot elite were up to. Back on D'nur, this was a common method of keeping an eye out for potential assassins or nascent rebellions. It was an old, but extremely effective strategy. Find a gossip who is both innocuous, and at the same time an acquaintance of almost everycreature, and then become friendly with them.

The vivacious manager of the most popular dress shop in the city, was an ideal source of useful intelligence. A noble's husband bragging about his wife's indulgent spending outside of what she should be earning, told of corruption. A dress purchased by a lord yet never spoken about or worn by his wife, spoke of a possible affair. A servant fetching an order, talking about their employer and a large number of their friends meeting oddly late in the evening, was a warning of possible rebellious plotting. Derran's father had taught him that a smart member of the court, has eyes and ears everywhere, and that the best informants were those blissfully unaware of their role. Granted, that of course, was back on D'nur. . . .

In Equestria, nobles scheming for anything more evil than an invitation to private tea with Celestia, was all but unheard of. And Sassy was far less of an informant, and far more of just a delightful mare to talk to. Derran did keep an ear out just in case, but not once had anything more sinister than a bit of bad mouthing come up. That said, Derran did have a few enemies, Silverhoof despised him, as did a very small group among the nobility, including a certain prince Blueblood, whom Derran was shocked to find out was Celestia's adoptive nephew, and Cadence's estranged brother. Most of them simply disliked the idea of an alien marrying into the royal family, but one or two, Silverhoof and Blueblood among them, hated him for more personal reasons. However, between Fleur De Lis and her brother, Sassy Saddles, and a number of other contacts he had cultivated, none of his detractors could so much as pick their nose without him hearing about it. Although, in all honesty, he mostly used his informal information network to perform simple social magic tricks, like knowing about hush hush fashion show preparations a friend was trying to catch him off guard with.

"I suppose life would be dreadfully dull without a little mystery. But what would you all have done if I refused?" Sassy just laughed.

"You disappoint Rarity and Fleur? My Lord you would never." She declared confidently. Derran gave a small smile, even as a slightly uncomfortable feeling shot through him.

"No. . . I suppose I wouldn't, would I?" He agreed after a slight pause, a frown suddenly replacing the smile on his face. Sassy gave him a look of concern.

"Is something wrong my Lord?" Shaking off his brief moment of melancholy, Derran smiled again, pushing his discomfort to the back of his mind with an effort of will.

"No. . . apologies, just a moment's lapse in thought. It was a joy to see you again Lady Saddles." Sassy immediately perked up.

"Ribbons and rhinestones my Lord, it's always a pleasure. I'd ask you to stay and chat, but the after-lunch rush is due to start soon, and I expect I'll be up to my horn in customers." She stated with a laugh. Derran nodded and gave a bow.

"Then I shan't delay you further. I'll see you the week after next for tea with Lady Fleur and Lord Fancy Pants." He declared, as he headed for the exit. Then, as he opened the door, he turned back as though struck by an errant thought. "Ah, just one small favor before I go?" Derran asked with a smile.

"Hairpins and hatboxes, of course my Lord." Sassy replied indulgently.

"Please be so kind as to cease addressing me as: 'Lord'." He stated, before slipping outside without waiting for a reply.

Derran gave a frustrated sigh as he fell heavily into a bench, though he took care to place the bag he carried safely off to one side. The bench in question, stood at the edge of one of the largest plazas in Canterlot. A massive circle of dark gray flagstones, accented with winding decorative paths of white cobblestone starting at the four compass points, and terminating at a large decorative fountain. Around the edge of the plaza were various cafes, boutiques, art galleries, and spas. All done in gleaming white stucco, and with purple, mission style clay tile roofs. As well as colorful awnings, and the occasional minaret, or onion capped tower attached to a corner or growing out of the roof. Well dressed ponies walked by, chatting about this and that, running to get to urgent appointments, or sitting at the cafes, eating lunch and laughing about the latest gossip. For a moment, looking at the oddly tranquil scene, Derran almost forgot the source of his sudden annoyance. Until his gaze fell upon the large fountain in the center of the plaza. Instantly, he felt his eyes narrow in anger.

It was a new installation, only completed in the last month. A gorgeous piece of carved marble, depicting ponies playing amid the sprays of water coming from well concealed nozzles. The sculptures were incredibly lifelike, so much that one would swear you could almost hear the laughter of the smiling stone effigies frozen mid gallop. The fountain had been designed and crafted by Marble Zeal, a famous Prench sculptor, and was a true masterwork. Every detail was on flawless display, to the point you could count the number of hairs in the manes and tails of the ponies. Their expressions of joy and happiness, so real you could almost imagine they were moving. The local papers had heralded it as a cultural keepsake that put all others to shame. Even going so far as to suggest it might be better off in a museum, where the weather and birds couldn't get at it. Derran however, felt a flare of fury, as he glared at the central part of the installation, around which the stone ponies pranced and played.

There, surrounded by the frolicking ponies and artistic sprays of water, standing on a sizable plinth, and depicted larger than life, was Derran himself. Carved in loving detail from a single giant block of polished black granite, Derran's eight foot tall stony doppelganger was shown wearing the Praetor Suit, sans the helmet. One hand resting upon the crossguard of Unmaker, the sword's tip plunged into the ground beside him at a slight angle. The statue's expression held a beneficent smile, as he gazed down at a sleeping foal, nestled in the crook of his opposite armored arm. It was a lovingly crafted tribute to Derran's rescue of Flurry Heart a year past. . . Derran hated it with every fiber of his being.

Struggling to swallow his mounting anger, Derran forced his expression to stay neutral. He appreciated that the ponies were grateful Flurry Heart had been rescued, but more and more it felt as if they were willfully blind to reality. Derran wasn't a hero, he wasn't a savior, he wasn't an angel or a god, he was a killer! The whole point of him being 'Guardian of Equestria', was that he was a relentless engine of death and destruction, meant to slaughter anycreature seeking violence against the holy land. The Seraphim were the heroes, he was just the iron strapped to their flank in the event of an emergency.

The flare of anger in Derran's breast briefly became an inferno, as he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. Glaring at the fountain as if seeking to destroy it with his gaze alone. How could the Seraphim and their children not see?! Were they blind?! He was a killer, a ravager, a monster unleashed by heaven upon its enemies! One would have thought the incident with Tempest Shadow six months ago would have forced them to wake up to what Derran and the Doom Slayer actually were and did! But. . . it had not. If anything, Derran's renown was only increased, even though he had given several interviews with the Manehatten Times, the Baltimare Globe, and the Fillydelphia Free Press, explaining that had it not been for the timely intervention of their divine majesties, innocent lives would have been lost. Yet despite this, the ponies still regarded him as if he was some kind of champion of justice! It was appalling! Taking a deep breath, and letting out an explosive sigh, Derran forced himself to calm down. Placing his face in his hands and running his palms and fingers across his forehead and cheeks, before massaging his temples with the index and middle fingers of both hands.

"I am being a fool. . . ." Derran declared softly under his breath.

The truth was, it was his own fault. He had been far too indulgent. Returning to his beloveds after a millennia, all Derran had wanted was to see them smile. As a result, he had made innumerable promises and agreements, that he now knew to be grievous lapses in judgement. He should have fought harder when Celestia angled to make him regent, protested louder, when she had sought to boost his profile in the eyes of the nobility. He should never have agreed to the Tournament of Dreams. Curses on the Darkness, he should never have even gone outside the castle! He was a weapon, and the proper place for a weapon when not in use, was locked up in the armory! Getting to his feet, Derran shook his head. This had to stop, he had to stop this.

If the ponies came to idolize him, they may in turn begin to idolize his methods. That could not be allowed to happen. Part of what made Equestria strong, was that, unlike most human civilizations, they did not see violent conflict as an option, unless somecreature was physically attacking them. Equestria survived as it did, because even at their worst, ponies generally saw dialog and negotiation as superior to the use of brute force. However, that was not set in stone. Ponies were resistant to the evils men's hearts so easily succumbed to, but they were not immune. If they saw the brutal methods of the Doom Slayer as a cure-all, then they might seek to try it themselves. Violence was a seductive shortcut, reducing everything to a zero sum, 'might makes right' equation. Violence was simple, easy, and terrifyingly effective, it was also. . . unquestionably evil.

No matter what the reason, no matter what the cause, killing was a sin. Those with blood on their hands could never be truly good again. There were times when blood must be spilled, it was inevitable. Only fools believed absolute pacifism would be met with anything other than eventual annihilation. That was why Guardians like him existed, but it didn't change the moral balance. Not even the Seraphim could restore a life once taken. To kill another sentient being, was to take away all hope that they might mend their ways, that they might find redemption. No one, not Pony, not Griffon, not Dragon, Hippogriff, Changeling or Yak, and certainly not Derran, had a right to take away that chance. Even in a land of peace, violence was at times a necessary tool, but to call even the most necessary death 'good', was to prove the corruption within one's heart. And, thanks to the Doom Slayer, Derran's heart was corrupt indeed. But that was as it should be, let the monsters kill, so that the angels could fly.

Derran let out another sigh as he grabbed his parcel, and started heading back toward the market, his stride tense and determined. It was too late in the week to trouble ladies Celestia and Luna with this now, he'd be leaving tomorrow after all. But when he returned from Ponyville, he was stepping down as High Minister of Royal Affairs, regardless of what Celestia thought. He would also need to persuade Luna to stop making him a part of the tournament of dreams, or better yet, cancel it entirely. He needed to make them see reason. To get them to recognize the razors edge of disaster they were walking, by putting a creature like him up on a pedestal. . . .

Queen of Nothing

The queen of darkness dread and death
Clung to her crown till her final breath
Yet amid the ruin, once her throne
She ruled naught but ashes, blight, and bone. . . .

-Rhyme of the Fallen Queen

Derran entered the throne room feeling mentally drained, even as his body felt as rested and awake as ever before. It was truly a strange disconnect. While he did in a sense still become 'tired' it was an entirely different sensation than back when he was an ordinary man. Mental fatigue could take a toll on him, but his body rarely, if ever, showed any true signs of physical strain. Being tired for him was. . . similar to getting cut and not noticing until you looked directly at it. It was there, and you could see it, but you couldn't feel anything. Sleeping was a mechanical process, like rapidly turning off a light with a dimmer switch. Where the world faded swiftly to black, and then next thing he knew he was awake. Nevertheless, he still could feel things like stress and anxiety, and they did have an effect, even if his body no longer responded the way it once did. Thus was his experience now, as he entered the most holy seat of the Seraphim's power. . .

The throne room of Canterlot, was a tasteful, if grandiose, room. Made almost entirely of marble, the long rectangular structure was flanked on either side by walls set with gorgeous stain glass windows showing various events of recent historical note. The floor was a single gigantic slab of marble, polished to a mirror finish, with only a single red carpet leading to the dais on which the throne sat. Overhead, the high vaulted ceiling was covered with elaborate murals of key moments in Equestria's ancient history, held aloft by rows of doric columns set out from the walls. Tapestries of flawless make, hung from the ceiling and on the wall behind the throne, each depicting the sun or moon in some lovingly rendered capacity. As for the throne itself, it was set upon a dais of pure gold, accented with gorgeous scrollwork, royal purple lilies, and a pair of fountains flanking the second lowest step of the structure. The throne was also gold, a high backed chair built directly into the dais and upholstered in red silk. It was there, seated upon a cushion of red velvet, that her divine majesty, Princess Celestia, Seraphim of the Sun, Diarch of Equestria, held court. Walking as confidently as he could manage down the red carpet flanked by stern faced guardsponies, Derran fell to one knee before his lady.

After his outburst at the market, Derran had come straight home, still caked with stone dust, to the arched eyebrows and gawking expressions of the palace staff and visiting nobility. Derran however, had been too preoccupied to answer their unspoken questions, as he had been lost deep in thought. Though he had been forgiven by all involved, shame and worry had still nipped at Derran's heels, as he stowed the contents of his shopping bags and headed to his room for a shower. His mind consumed by memories of his loss of composure, and his inability to shatter the reverence the ponies held for him. Only once he had dried and dressed himself, did he feel something approaching mentally sanguine again. Though the guilt and anxiety yet lingered at the edges of his thoughts. As he had headed, with almost indecent haste, to the throne room.

"My Lady." Derran breathed out, as he knelt before one of the only beings in the multiverse, worthy of his absolute deference. Before he had even bowed his head, and in what would normally be an unthinkable breech of royal protocol, Celestia ran down from the dais to embrace Derran.

"Derran! I heard about what happened at the market! Are you ok?! Was anycreature hurt?!" Derran, despite himself, gave a small smile as he raised his head to return his beloved's embrace. Only Celestia would ask after everycreature's safety, despite logically knowing they were fine.

"All is well my Lady." He declared softly. "The driver is safe, there were no serious injuries to speak of, and damage was kept to a minimum. I shall write up a full report as soon as I am able." Celestia let out a sigh of relief as she released her hold on Derran, and he rose to his feet.

"Thank goodness. A messenger only just arrived a few minutes ago to give me the details." For an instant, Derran stiffened, waiting for Celestia to inquire about his furious outburst. "We're incredibly lucky nocreature was injured, it's a good thing you happened to be out shopping today, or things could have been much worse." Derran arched an eyebrow, as Celestia withdrew to return to her throne.

"Is there. . . nothing else, my Lady?" He asked, slightly confused by her lack of further comment. Surely his beloved must have heard about his moment of impropriety? Celestia looked puzzled for a moment.

"About the market? No. . . should there have been?" She inquired curiously. Derran opened his mouth to reply.

"I. . ." Before shutting it again. If he were to hazard a guess, he would venture that the ponies at the market had decided not to mention his outburst to the messenger, likely out of some questionably reasoned sense of courtesy. He knew he owed his lady a full account, and an explanation. At the moment however, still perturbed by his own inner turmoil, he was unable to summon the mental fortitude for further elaboration. "No. . . nothing my Lady, or at least, nothing you need concern yourself with right now." Here Celestia frowned slightly, her face etched with concern.

"Is something troubling you Derran? You seem a bit distracted, are you sure you're ok?" Derran nodded slowly.

"As I said my Lady, it is nothing you need worry about now. However, when I return from Ponyville, there are matters of some import that I wish to discuss with you and lady Luna." Celestia arched an eyebrow at that, giving Derran an appraising look.

"Very well. . ." She replied after a short pause, her tone one of perplexity. "I'll make some time in my scheduled for when you return." Derran inclined his head in a polite bow.

"My thanks my Lady." There was a slight pause as Derran noted the concern lingering in Celestia's gaze, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he ordered his thoughts. His own worries would be addressed in time, giving in to his dour mood now would serve no purpose. Driving the dark clouds from his mind as best he could, Derran forced a smile to appear on his face. Determined to reassure his love, he swiftly decided on a change of subject.

"By the by, you will never guess what Lady Fleur De Lis dragooned me into this morning." He stated, his grin becoming slightly more genuine at the memory. Celestia gave Derran a look of curiosity, as he managed a chuckle. "She apparently decided the Canterlot fashion show would benefit from a human presence, so I agreed to be a model for the event." Celestia's eyes widened slightly, before she let out a giggle.

"Well, I can hardly fault her taste. I'm guessing Rarity also twisted your arm?" She asked lightheartedly. Derran chuckled again, his well concealed poor humor, gradually evaporating as the conversation went on.

"Not personally, but Lady Fleur did mention her name to help me make up my mind." Celestia smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"That does sound like Fleur." Here Celestia gave a suggestive smirk. "So does this mean I can look forward to bragging about being engaged to a fashion model in the near future?" Derran returned her smirk with one of his own.

"So it would seem." He replied, before deciding he might as well run with his plan from earlier that day. At this point, he needed a break every bit as much as Celestia deserved one. "On that note, I was curious if you'd care to join me in the garden for a few hours? If I am going to be getting up on a runway in front of everycreature, I ought to work on my strut. Perhaps milady would care to critique my method?" Celestia continued to reflect Derran's mischievous smile as she regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you trying to seduce your princess Mr. Grandel? Scandalous." She declared softly, with a sensual, half-lidded gaze. Derran barely batted an eye as he gave a look of mock surprise.

"My lady I would never!" He declared, his tone exaggerated and his prior bad mood all but forgotten. "Though, now that you mention it, I did happen to procure a bottle of spiced Sweet Apple Acres cider, and a very moist vanilla cake with buttercream icing, that I was rather hoping to share with somepony? . . ." He trailed off suggestively. For an instant, Celestia's eyes widened, licking her lips at the mention of her favorite dessert. However, a moment later, she let out a frustrated sigh, as she frowned.

"Much as I would love to join you, I'm afraid I can't." She stated apologetically. "The incident at the market caused enough damage that I'm going to spend most of the day in meetings." Derran frowned, but otherwise hid his disappointment.

"Shall I come with you then?" He asked, his frown turning into a sympathetic smile. "I have few other duties to attend to today, and the work would doubtless go faster with the two of us?" Celestia let out another sigh, as she gave Derran a look of sympathy.

"Unfortunately, you have your own meeting to get to." Instantly, Derran stiffened, as his smile faded back into a frown.

"Ah. . . yes. . . I had forgotten about that." He declared slowly, trying his best not to grit his teeth or clench his fists. "I could always postpone it? Surely assisting you takes precedence?" He offered, trying not to sound too hopeful, and carefully concealing his disappointment as Celestia shook her head.

"I know you don't like it, but it's very important you go." Once more Derran took a deep breath, before slowly letting it out.

"My Lady. . . you know I would march against the Darkness itself if you so asked it, and that I would never seek to second guess your divine wisdom, but, considering our lack of any change in the. . . situation these last last six months, I feel compelled to ask. . . are you certain this is necessary?" Celestia smiled gently as she descended from her throne once again, to gently place her hoof on Derran's shoulder.

"I promise Derran, I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it was important. Please, trust me?" Derran nodded, bathing in the warmth of Celestia's proximity. Once or twice, Derran had heard it claimed by various ponies, that being in his presence was sometimes a heady experience. That he at times had an. . . aura, for lack of a better term, that projected power, authority, and a, frankly understandable, degree of fear. Though, in honesty, he'd personnally never noticed any sign of the ability, aside from the reaction of those around him. However, his aura, if it indeed existed, was nothing, compared to what Celestia was capable of.

When she wished, the princess of the sun could exude a presence like no other. It was gentle, warm, and filled those around her with a sense of awe, hope, and peace. Colors seemed brighter, smells more intense, and even food seemed to taste better. It was as if all the caring and kindness in Celestia's soul was being projected outward. Bathing the world in the love of a goddess. Wrapped in that aura, Derran felt all his worries retreat to the back of his mind, the tension in his body relaxing, as he felt his heart soar. It was an almost transcendental experience. In this state, this close by, Celestia was at her most pure. She held nothing back, showing her truest self to the one she loved, it was a gesture of complete and total trust. Raising his hands, Derran cupped Celestia's cheeks, as he placed a delicate kiss on her nose.

"There is nopony I trust more." He declared truthfully. "If you say it is important, then that is all I need to hear." Celestia smiled, and to Derran, in that moment, it was as if he had gazed upon a sunrise of such beauty, it made all around it seem hollow and gray. However, all too soon, she turned and walked away. Duty, as ever, recalling her to her throne. As Celestia withdrew her aura, Derran almost flinched, the world around him suddenly seeming to become more plain somehow. From experience, he knew it was a temporary sensation, but that it was also the reason Celestia avoided too much use of the ability. Even she didn't know quite how it worked, but she did know it could become like a drug, albeit one only addictive in the extreme short term, and those exposed to it for too long could have. . . awkward reactions, for a few seconds after it ceased.

"I will send you now, and reopen the portal in two hours." Derran nodded, forcing himself to remain stoic despite his swiftly returning disquiet.

"As you say my Lady." Celestia gave a final, reassuring nod, as her horn began to glow. An expression of fierce concentration on her face. Instantly, an orb of blazing golden light appeared in the air before Derran. Swiftly, and with a sound of fluctuating arcane energies, the orb flattened, before transforming into a ring. Rapidly, the ring expanded to become nearly seven feet tall and six across. The golden light around its circumference pulsing softly, as, through a translucent veil like oil slicked water, a location far from the throne room was revealed. It was dark, and filled with a cold blue-green light, that looked almost black in the well lit throne room. "I will see you in a few hours my Lady." Derran declared. Steeling himself, as he stepped through the, all too familiar, gate.

He emerged in a large roughly hewn chamber. The walls and ceiling made of a shimmering dark purple stone akin to obsidian glass. Around him, dozens of large cages of enchanted black iron stood in rows, some even stacked on top of each other, and each containing some variety of monster. Instantly, the hisses, shrieks, and growls of the prisoners were silenced, as they beheld the dark gaze and tight lipped frown, of the Guardian of Equestria. Derran glared at the various beasts through the bars of their prisons, instantly causing them to shrink back, as the portal snapped shut behind him. The monsters cowering in terror, as waves of controlled malice rolled off of the bipedal figure in their midst.

Dressed in a fashionable looking tailcoat, black dress pants and shined leather dress shoes, and bereft of so much as a dagger or even a sidearm, Derran still cut an imposing figure, as he walked slowly past the cages filled with the Seraphim's imprisoned foes. In one cage, a Bugbear hid its normally fearsome gaze behind one of its six sets of paws. In another, a manticore huddled in a corner, trying to make itself as small as possible. And in yet another, a chimera and its three heads very nearly pissed themselves. As Derran paused before their cage, to glare at them in undisguised hatred. He always took the time to do this, as he knew for a fact, that this particular beast, had tried to devour a filly, who to him, was as close as his little sister. And he took a certain dark pleasure in making the tri-headed monster squirm.

As for the rest, they watched him in a tense silence. Not one of the monsters daring to utter a sound in Derran's presence. Knowing he did not require armor, nor weapons, to kill them all, whether caged or not, and that, given any excuse, he would not hesitate to do so. Sweeping his wintry gaze over the cages one final time, Derran gave a curt nod, before continuing deeper into the strange cavern. As he withdrew, the monsters breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they had been spared for another day.

His silent reminder given, Derran moved deeper into the realm of Tartarus, Equestria's maximum security prison dimension. Hidden under a mountain in the most remote location in Equestria, this was where the Seraphim put those beings who had committed, or attempted, acts of violence against their little ponies. Had it been up to Derran, he would have executed every creature within this place with his bare hands. However, that was not the way of the Seraphim, who believed every soul was deserving of a second chance. That said, while they were undoubtedly merciful, the Seraphim were not stupid. Tartarus, while humane, or more accurately: 'equine', was hardly a nice place. Prisoners were given three squares a day, plentiful water, and even allowed opportunities for exercise or hobbies, dependent upon their crimes, but that was about it. What's more, Derran had made certain on his first visit, the prisoners understood that, unlike the Seraphim, he did not object to spilling blood.

The first time he had come here, he had unlocked every cage in the first chamber, and told the prisoners that they could either remain in their cells or, if they could get past him, they could go free. Unsurprisingly, they had all tried to rush him. Then, as now, he had brought neither armor nor weapons. . . it was not even close to a fair fight. Derran had beaten every single one of them unconscious with laughable ease, before, quite literally, throwing them back into their cages. He had then waited for them to awaken, before explaining that any of them who left Tartarus before his ladies released them, would return in a small pine box. Assuming there was even enough of them left to fill one. Since that day, and despite them previously being an almost monthly occurrence, no matter how often they failed, not a single escape had been attempted.

Leaving behind what was often referred to as the 'minimum security chamber', Derran entered a tunnel of dark purple stone. Covered with Equestrian warding runes. The arcane symbols, carved deep into the rock and glowing faintly blue, deactivated as he passed. Tartarus, contrary to what most thought, was not one homogeneous chamber. Rather, it was actually a series of carefully crafted pocket dimensions stitched together with magic. And while they appeared easy enough to enter or leave, anycreature who tried without authorization, would swiftly find themselves trapped in a maddening extradimensional labyrinth. Designed to, after hours of aimless and confused wandering, spit them right back out in the chamber they just left. In addition, magic didn't work here, a constant scrambling enchantment meaning that any spell would either fizzle out instantly, or create some random, if harmless, effect. Which made the place especially terrifying to the prisoners when Derran stalked the tunnels. After all, he didn't need magic to rip monsters into pieces.

The air shimmered slightly as Derran left the rune encrusted tunnel, arriving at his final destination far too soon for his taste. The chamber was even more massive than the previous one. A narrow path leading toward the center of the cavernous interior, its sides ending in a sheer drop. The bottom, if indeed there even was one, constantly shrouded in ominously swirling blue mist.

Splitting like the branches of an immense tree, the path terminated at one of dozens of strange rocky platforms, seemingly carved from gigantic grey stalagmites. The platforms were circular, and lit by a strange spotlight effect that seemed to come from nowhere. There were no visible bars or chains on the platform, but only because the bindings of this chamber used restraints far stronger than paltry steel or iron. As Derran moved toward the one currently occupied platform, a voice, arrogant, and at the same time seeming to hold back a troubling amount of excitement, rang out.

"Welcome back my future consort. Another round already? . . ." Derran felt his teeth clench and his gaze narrow. As he arrived at his destination, and the former queen of the changelings looked at him with a sickening mixture of obsessive excitement, and lust. Derran regarded her with a carefully composed expression of neutrality.

"Good day, Chrysalis." Derran greeted, keeping the hatred from his voice with an extreme effort. "I see you are well." Chrysalis gave a tittering laugh that made Derran's hands itch for a weapon.

"Better now that you're here my king." She declared, her tone revoltingly amorous. Taking a deep breath, Derran tried to steady himself, but Chrysalis swiftly made the gesture futile. "Mmm, yes! Breath in my scent! Can you tell how much I want you?" She inquired salaciously, not even trying to disguise the mirth in her eyes. Instantly, Derran had to fight back a cloud of red at the edges of his vision.

"Keep speaking to me in that manner, and I shall rip off your wings." He declared, his voice an icy abyss. However, the tone that would have instantly cowed any sane creature, only seemed to excite Chrysalis further.

"Oh, I am such a naughty Queen." She declared, running her tongue slowly over her obsidian lips. Instantly Derran felt his composure crumble. As he slammed his fist against the invisible barrier between him and the former queen, hard enough to send a spiderweb of cracks through it. The fracture lines vanishing a scant moment later, as the barrier repaired and reinforced itself.

"Enough!" Derran hissed, his eyes blazing red, as he loomed over Chrysalis with a look of pure wrath on his face. At last, Chrysalis had the sense to look worried, as she adopted a more normal tone.

"You really do know how to spoil a mare's fun Doom Slayer." She declared, her voice sounding ever so slightly petulant. Derran once more attempted to take a deep breath, this one, going uninterrupted.

It had been shortly after Tempest Shadow's ill fated assault on Canterlot, that, to the surprise and dismay of everycreature, Chrysalis had, more or less, recovered her wits. How her mind had revived from its catatonic state, neither Derran nor any of the doctors whom had examined her, had been able to say. But it had swiftly become a cause of constant misery and frustration for Derran.

For reasons she had declined to share, Celestia had requested that Derran spend a period of no less then two hours or more, talking to Chrysalis, a minimum of three days a week. Derran had obeyed, assuming that at worst, he'd just be listening to Chrysalis engage in a bit of impotent vengeful ranting. The first time he went, he had almost looked forward to it. After all, if he couldn't kill Chrysalis, he could at least make her life psychologically unpleasant. It was to his shock and horror, that he learned, contrary to all logic and sense, Chrysalis had no apparent desire to take revenge on him. What she did want, was infinitely more disturbing. . . She wanted him as a mate.

Evidently, prior to their reformation, changeling society valued only one thing: power. Changeling matriarchs only chose their consorts, often more than one, based on their fighting skill and the amount of love they could feast on at once. As Chrysalis had explained, in far more detail than Derran had ever wanted, her last few consorts had all been capable of defeating a minimum of thirty other changeling warriors at the same time. Only those who reached this, supposedly impressive, standard, would be considered as candidates for breeding, and even then, only after they had killed all the other potential candidates. Unfortunately for Derran, defeating an army of the most powerful monsters in the known world, meant he was a fair bit more desirable than any potential mate Chrysalis had ever had. As such, her new plan for world conquest was effectively, to make Derran her king, and with him, breed an army of invincible Changeling super soldiers.

Needless to say, calling her plan 'insane' was grossly understating how deranged it was, and the fact she was so brazen about it, only made it that much more unsettling. Nevertheless, Chrysalis tried every visit to tempt Derran in some fashion or other, and her attempts at flirting were very nearly as disturbing as the fact that she was trying to woo him in the first place. Everything from descriptions of slaughtering rival queens, to nauseating accounts of her prior sexual conquests, mixed with less-than-subtle offers to give Derran a chance to beat their performance. Derran had seen a great many revolting and vile things in his long life, so it meant a great deal, that Chrysalis was one of the few beings able to make him feel genuinely nauseated.

"Must we go through this disturbing tedium every time I am forced to return here?" Derran demanded, keeping his tone level with an effort that was nothing short of god-like. "In case it has escaped the notice of your breathtakingly deranged mind, your attempts to sway me are failing. . . abysmally." Chrysalis just made a dismissive sound.

"Please! As if you could do better? You settle for a princess, but you could have a Queen. Deny it all you want, but our joining is as good as inevitable." Derran shook his head in disbelief.

"You truly are pioneering new lands of being snake-fuckingly crazy aren't you?" He grumbled, his exasperation eroding further his already precarious veneer of feigned civility. "Even assuming you are serious in these. . . offers, I would rather castrate myself with a spoon, than take you up on it." Chrysalis just laughed.

"Oh come now, you know full well that my offers are genuine. No lie I've tried to tell has ever gotten by those gorgeous eyes of yours." She declared, in what she clearly imagined was a coquettish manner. Unfortunately, sickening as it was to realize, Chrysalis was indeed telling the truth, or at least believed she was. Nocreature, in this, or any other reality, could lie to Derran. After all, part of fighting demons was resisting the very best liars and cheats in existence. Often, all Derran had to do to know whether somecreature was lying to him, was meet their gaze. And Chrysalis's gaze was, horribly, dead honest. Hardly a comforting thought.

"Truth or not, your entreaties do nothing but disgust me. Are you truly so addled that you actually believe you are making some kind of progress?! My beloveds have more worth in one hair of their manes than a mill-no, a trillion of you, could ever have in your entire bodies!" Here Chrysalis glared at Derran, her voice brimming with arrogance as she replied.

"What could those pathetic princesses ever have that I don't? Free me from this cage and I promise to show you pleasures those prim and proper weaklings never could!" Derran again shook his head.

"Putting aside that you clearly know nothing of Celestia and Luna's carnal appetites, if you genuinely must ask what they have that you lack, you will never understand the answer." Here, Chrysalis gave a snarl, Derran having touched a slight nerve.

"Every time I ask that's your answer! You just can't admit that they're not nearly as special as you want them to be! I'm superior to them in every way! I'm tougher! I'm smarter! I'm stronger than they could ever hope to be! Together we could claim the entire world as our kingdom! You, leading an army of our children, conceived in a passion so sublime it would seem like the stuff of legends! You would be more than a king, our subjects would worship us as gods!" Derran shook his head, disbelief, and an almost imperceptible hint of pity displayed on his features.

"By the Light, you truly don't understand do you?" He whispered, his voice almost sympathetic.

"THEN TELL ME!!" Chrysalis screamed, slamming her hooves against the invisible walls of her cell, her expression a combination of rage and desperation. Derran let out a sigh, his anger seeming to drain out of him as he did so.

"Very well then. The answer is this: you could never love me, because you have no understanding of what love actually is." Chrysalis blinked, her brain taking a few seconds to process the unexpected reply.

"What?!" She shouted in disbelief. "Of course I know what love is! I literally feed on it!" Derran shook his head almost ruefully.

"And that is part of the reason why you do not understand it. To you, love is an energy source, like electricity or magic. You do not see it as an emotion, merely as a source of power and nourishment, and I can say with complete confidence, that never in your existence have you experienced it in an emotional capacity." Chrysalis stared at Derran with an expression as if he had suddenly grown two heads.

"What are you talking about?! Of course I've felt love?! I've been in love with you ever since you defeated me!" Derran just made a dismissive sound through his teeth.

"No. That emotion is desire, not love. You don't want me as your consort because you love me, you want me because I am powerful, and because you hope to exploit that power for your own gain." Chrysalis scoffed.

"Oh please! I consider you worthy of me, how is that not love? Your precious princesses are no different. You protect them, so they mate with you and do nice things for you to insure your loyalty. If anything, my love is more pure because unlike them 'I' am honest about what I truly want." Derran gave Chrysalis an expression of disgust. He was already in a poor mood, and knew he had reached his limit.

"Your arrogance is stifling, and I tire of trying to explain color to the blind. I will wait out the rest of this tedium in one of the other chambers." He declared in annoyance, turning to go. Cutting off his visit early wasn't normally something Derran would do, however he knew full well that if he stayed any longer he would likely rip Chrysalis's head from her shoulders.

"Blind am I? Are you sure you want to cast stones in that direction?" Chrysalis declared, her voice like a dagger being drawn across silk. Derran wanted to ignore her, but something in her tone made him stop.

"Was there a point to that comment?" He demanded, his back to her, and his tone heavy with restrained anger. Chrysalis let out a mocking laugh.

"I may not know what love is, but I do know what lies are. Like you, I can spot a lie a mile away, even one somecreature is telling themselves. . ." Turning back toward Chrysalis, Derran regarded her with a cold expression.

"And, do elaborate. What lies do you believe I am telling myself?" Chrysalis just chuckled with sadistic delight.

"I'm not entirely sure. All I know, is that I see it in your face every time we meet. Shimmering like fresh spilled blood on a moonlit night, just behind your eyes. I don't know what the lie is, but the last time I saw a look like yours, it was in one of my children who had gone quite mad from a terrible sickness. He was so delirious he actually thought he was Princess Celestia, trapped in the body of a changeling. He even challenged me to a duel while transformed into her." Here Chrysalis laughed. "I destroyed him of course. But as he was dying, and he realized his mistake. . . well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. Even 'I' sometimes have nightmares about those screams. . . such unimaginable despair. Finding out everything he believed himself to be. . . was a lie." Derran glared down at Chrysalis with pure hatred.

"Why I ever, even for a single moment, pitied you, I cannot imagine! Keep your madness and lies to yourself, they bore me." Chrysalis just smirked, as she leaned on the transparent walls of her cell to stare deep into Derran's eyes.

"Am I lying, Derran Grandel. . . am I really?" Derran scoffed, as he turned from Chrysalis's gaze.

"You are insane. And the insane always believe they are telling the truth." He said, his tone one of finality. Yet, as he walked back down the path out of the high security chamber, he heard Chrysalis laugh, and for some reason, a faint sense of unease gripped him, as her parting words chased after him.

"Isn't it convenient, that insanity is so well hidden from the insane. . ."

Homecoming

"Wealthy indeed is the man with a loving home."

-D'nuriean proverb

Derran looked up from his book to glance through the train window at the scenery passing in the distance. No matter how many times he saw the astonishing beauty of the holy land laid out before him, it never ceased being breathtaking. Skies of azure, seen through air clearer than crystal. With far off mountain peaks like dragon's teeth piercing distant wild thunderheads. Hills and fields rolled by covered in lush grass that was soft as silk to the touch, and dotted with wildflowers that all but glowed with color. As overhead, fluffy white clouds drifted lazily by. Finally, just in view between the grassland and the mountains, lay deep green forests of ancient trees. Wide as a house, and with branches that extended to cover an area the size of a hoofball field. Seeing it all from this angle, Derran couldn't help but feel calling Equestria 'beautiful' felt almost disingenuous, like calling Canterlot a 'mountain village'.

As the train trundled along the tracks, Derran let out a soft smile. It was good to be going back to Ponyville. Where his friends never addressed him as 'lord'. Where every meal was homemade with love. Where he knew almost everypony by name, and where his unofficially adopted family were never more than a ten minute walk from his residence. Where he could work the land with Applejack. Bake a cake with Pinkie Pie. Have a hoofrace with Rainbow Dash. Tend to animals with Fluttershy. Have tea with Rarity. Play games with the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Spike. Discuss kites and magical theory with Starlight. And of course, go on romantic dates with Lady Twilight.

"I do hope all the preparations are in place for my little surprise. Lady Vinyl Scratch assured me her compatriots were all on schedule, but that was some days ago." He mumbled to himself, before suddenly noting a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing up, Derran smiled, as he looked down at the small unicorn filly staring up at him in awe from the aisle. "Finally worked up the nerve to come say hello then eh?" He asked with a chuckle.

"You knew I was watching?!" The little filly asked, her voice squeaking with a combination of excitement and nervous energy. Derran nodded. The filly was young, at least three years younger than the Crusaders, which would put her at about nine or ten. She had a shockingly bright pink mane, and a striking silver coat. She also appeared not to have a cutie mark yet.

"I noticed you staring at me from across the train car. Admittedly, not as impressive as it sounds, considering the three of us are the only ones in this car. By the way, I also noticed you waited till your mother was asleep to come pay me a visit. I take it she told you not to bother me?" The filly's ears flattened against her head, her expression becoming worried, clearly afraid he was going to scold her. Derran just gave a smile, while he spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, while we should always listen to our elders, I think in this case your disobedience can be overlooked. May I ask the name of my mysterious admirer?" The filly's face immediately brightened, as she nodded vigorously.

"My name is Stellar Magnet, but everypony calls me 'Stella'." She declared proudly. Derran smiled.

"Stella hm? I shall be certain to remember it." He stated with a chuckle. "Now Stella, what can I-." Derran was cut off, as with a sudden abruptness, a large unicorn stallion barged through the door leading to the adjacent car, and into Stella, knocking her painfully to the floor.

"Watch where you're going!" He snarled down at the young filly, who almost immediately began to whimper, clearly doing her best to hold back the tears rapidly forming in her eyes. The Stallion in question, his back to Derran, made a noise of disgust. "Oh toughen up!" He declared, his voice unsympathetic. "You're completely fiiii. . ." The stallion trailed off, as an aura of pure malevolence engulfed him. With a feeling like icy claws had just affixed themselves to his throat, he slowly turned around. To see a pair of blazing red eyes, attached to a being that looked, at that instant, like a bipedal mountain.

"Step. Back." The words were barely above a whisper, yet, to the now terrified stallion, they sounded like the point blank roar of a manticore. Instantly, the stallion jumped into the unoccupied booth across the aisle, trembling from horn to hoof. As the red eyed titan put aside his book, and moved into the aisle. Kneeling down next to the filly, his tone became gentle, his eyes flickering back to blue, as he spoke to her with concern.

"Are you alright Stella? Tell me what hurts?" Stella, unable to reply, simply grabbed onto Derran as she quietly sobbed. With a look of understanding, Derran gave the little filly a gentle hug.

"Oh come on?! All I did was knock you over!" The stallion declared. His tone a mix of arrogance, outrage and disgust. Only for another wave of soul piercing dread to silence him, as Derran looked him in the eye with a gaze that was nothing less than soul curdling.

"Speak again without my permission, and I will remove your tongue." The words were spoken with a frigid calm, accompanied by a burning glare that left no doubt that the threat was very real. Satisfied that the stallion would hold his peace, Derran turned back to Stella, who seemed to have calmed a bit. Tears still trickled from her eyes, but she had at least regained a little composure. "I'm guessing that scared you more than it hurt?" Derran inquired gently, to which Stella nodded as she slowly released him. Derran smiled warmly in understanding, as he reached over to the black leather valise he habitually traveled with. Popping it open, he reached in and drew out a silk handkerchief, using it to gently dab away Stella's tears. Once her face and muzzle were cleaned to his satisfaction, and she had blown her nose, Derran held up the dirty handkerchief. "Now, watch closely. This is something a friend of a friend taught me." He stated, as he loosely clenched his fist, and proceeded to stuff the handkerchief into it. "And now. . ." Here Derran vigorously shook his fist, before opening it to reveal a caramel candy wrapped in golden foil. "Voila." He stated softly, as Stella stared at him in wonder.

"Wow! You're even more amazing than my daddy said you were!" She declared happily, her face shining with excitement. Her pain and fear forgotten in an instant. Derran simply shook his head, as he placed the caramel in Stella's hoof.

"Not at all. I learned this trick from a great and powerful pony sorceress, now she is impressive, though admittedly, a touch egotistical." He declared with a grin. Stella nodded and smiled as she unwrapped the caramel, popped it into her mouth, and began chewing. "Now, as I was about to ask before we were interrupted by all that commotion: what can I do for you Stella?" Stella suddenly looked embarrassed, shuffling from one hoof to the other uncertainly.

"I. . . uh. . . I don't want you to think I'm greedy." She admitted shyly, staring down at the golden candy wrapper in her hoof. Derran nodded sagely.

"Well that is very mature of you, but I am the one who asked, so go ahead and tell me what it is you desire from me?" Stella nodded, some of her confidence returning as she smiled again.

"Well, it's just. . . could I have an autograph?!" She blurted out, before suddenly becoming quiet again. "So I can prove to my friends I really met you." She explained, her voice almost a whisper. Derran smiled, even as inwardly, he felt yet another sharp pang of concern over the idea of encouraging yet more idolization of himself. Still, the request could hardly be called unreasonable, and besides that, Stella had been through enough for one day.

"Very well, but remember, I am merely an instrument of the Seraphim's will. I'm nocreature special, I just happen to work for ponies who are." Stella clearly didn't quite understand his meaning, but she nodded anyway. Returning the nod, Derran took out a beautiful gold and silver fountain pen from his bag, a Hearthswarming gift from Lord Fancy Pants and Lady De Lis, along with a notebook he always kept on him when he traveled. A habit he had picked up from Twilight. In long flowing script, he wrote out the words: To my dear friend Stella, from Derran Grandel. I shall always remember our train ride together. Tearing off the page, he handed it to Stella. Who looked like all her Hearthswarmings had come at once.

"Thank you mister Grandel!" She declared enthusiastically, to which Derran just smiled.

"Anytime my dear, now, you'd best hurry back to your seat before your mother wakes up." He declared with a wink. Stella nodded vigorously, as she trotted back to the other end of the train car. Derran continued to smile until he was sure Stella was safely in her seat. Before turning to look at the still cowering stallion in the booth across from him. Instantly, his expression became like a storm of barely contained wrath, his eyes a burning red.

"Do you know me?" He asked the stallion, his voice once again containing all the warmth of a timberwolf's toenail. The stallion, still too afraid to speak, nodded. Derran's expression didn't shift so much as an inch. "And do you know, what function I perform?" The stallion appeared near tears himself, as he nodded again. Derran's face remaining as merciless as a frozen cliff face. "Tell me your name, and know that if you attempt to deceive me, things will go poorly for you." The stallion nodded.

"B-b-b-bitter R-r-r-r-root s-s-sir." He stuttered out. Derran nodded, his expression becoming almost calm, even as his eyes continued to blaze crimson.

"You say that you know what I do Mr. Root? So that means, you know, that when I tell you: 'if you ever mistreat a filly like that again, I will hunt you down, and I will feed you a piece at a time to a tatzelwurm', I am not lying. . . Do we understand each other?" Bitter Root nodded, tears actually forming at the edges of his eyes as he did so. Derran's scarlet gaze did not relent as he straightened up. "Good. Now leave my sight, and have care that I never see you, ever again." Bitter Root nodded a final time, before turning and bolting like a madpony for the door to the next train car, as Derran returned to his seat, letting out a sigh as he once more picked up his book. "I suppose the old adage is true: no matter if you occupy Heaven, Hell, or somewhere in between, you can always find at least one asshole."

"When do you think big brother's gonna get here?" Asked the gray coated unicorn filly with white highlighted blond mane. Applebloom glanced at the train schedule, while Scootaloo yawned, and Sweetie Belle munched on a Sugarcube Corner sweetroll.

"Should be any minute now Dinky." Applebloom declared with a smile, at the newest member of the Cutiemark Crusaders. After being brought together during Derran's rescue of Flurry Heart a year ago, the Crusaders had started hanging out with Dinky a lot, and had swiftly become fast friends, culminating in them initiating her as a full fledged Crusader about three months back. They even helped her get her cutie mark. A series of golden sparkles, representing her talent for bringing the spark of happiness into other's lives with her remarkably strong, if somewhat unpredictable, magic.

No sooner had Applebloom finished speaking, than the chugging of the 6:05 train from Canterlot was heard making its rapid approach. The sound easily filled in the mostly empty station.

"Uhg, why did we have to get here so early?" Grumbled Scootaloo. "Couldn't this have waited till afternoon?" Applebloom just rolled her eyes.

"Did ya'll forget that Derran asked for our help with his romantic surprise for Twilight? He caught the early train 'cause he wanted to make sure he'd be there when she woke up." Dinky nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, big brother has been planning this for weeks, and asked for our help." Scootaloo looked less than enthusiastic as she replied.

"Ok fine, but did it have to be today? I'm always up late hanging with Rainbow Dash on Sunday, and I could have used the sleep." Sweetie Belle shook her head in exasperation as she finished the remains of her sweet roll.

"Don't you remember what today is?" She asked, her tone faintly annoyed, as she brushed a few crumbs off her chest.

"Monday?" Scootaloo asked flippantly, as she let out another yawn. Sweetie Belle's expression became a frown, as Apple Bloom spoke up.

"Yer kidd'n right? Today is the one year anniversary of when Derran returned to Equestria! Not to mention the day he an' Twilight first met! It's practically the day they fell in love!" Scootaloo just arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Aren't Celestia, Luna, and Twilight already planning some big party to celebrate Derran's return next week? I mean, we got the invitations just a few days ago didn't we?" Dinky shook her head.

"But big brother doesn't know about that. It's supposed to be a surprise." She explained. "They really wanted to do it today, but not everypony could make it. He probably thinks nopony remembered." Scootaloo opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the metallic scream of the train slowly coming to a halt. Any other attempt at conversation was then further drowned out by a loud hiss of steam, and a piercing whistle from the locomotive. A moment later, the doors of the train cars opened, and the conductor hopped out, calling out in a deep baritone.

"Ponyville Station! All passengers for Ponyville Station!"

As the Crusaders watched, a small group of ponies made their way off the train. There were only about five or six all together. Including an elderly earth pony couple, a yawning mother and her daughter, the latter of whom was beaming like Celestia's sun as she tucked a piece of paper into her saddle bags, a well dressed pegasus, and a unicorn stallion, who all but sprinted off the train with an expression like death itself was after him. Finally however, they sighted the towering figure of Derran Grandel, ducking his head slightly as he emerged from one of the rearmost train cars. Wearing a simple dark blue suit and pants, white dress shirt, black tie, and black leather belt. Derran looked more like an accomplished businesspony than the legendary warrior he was, as he glanced around the platform.

"OVER HERE BIG BROTHER!!" Dinky yelled out enthusiastically, waving one hoof wildly in Derran's direction. Derran smiled and gave a brief wave, as he walked toward the group of familiar fillies, chuckling slightly at Dinky's appellation for him.

It had started some months ago, when he had been visiting her mother. Something Derran made a point to do at least once whenever he was in town. Derran had taken Dinky out for lunch while Derpy was running errands, and Dinky had asked him if he had ever had any siblings. When Derran replied that he had not, Dinky had shyly inquired if he had ever wanted any. Derran had thought about it for a bit, before smiling at the young filly, who had hidden behind her menu in embarrassment. Taking a gamble, and recalling a certain pair of pegasai sisters who weren't technically related by blood, Derran had asked: 'Dinky. . . would you like to be my little sister?'. Dinky had all but jumped over the table to hug Derran as she shouted 'yes!'. And from then on, Dinky had only ever referred to him as: Big Brother. It was easily one of the greatest honors he had ever had the privilege of receiving.

"Ah, there are my partners in crime. Lovely to see you girls." He greeted warmly, as he tousled Dinky's mane affectionately, her expression absolutely beaming. "I take it everything is ready?" he inquired. Sweetie Belle nodded, as she gestured to a filly sized wagon, loaded with a carefully folded outfit, covered in a protective plastic wrap, and an oblong black leather case.

"It's all here." Sweetie Belle declared enthusiastically, before letting out a joyous squeal, as she trotted excitedly in place. "This is going to be so romantic!!" Derran simply chuckled in response.

"Well I certainly hope so. I would feel no end of shame if, after all this effort and planning, the ponies involved felt I had wasted their time." He stated with a grin. "Speaking of, have Lady Vinyl's associates arrived yet?" Dinky nodded.

"Yep, they got here yesterday, and we saw them heading up towards Twilight's castle earlier." She declared happily. Derran gave a nod of approval.

"Excellent. Shall we then?" He asked, with a gesture toward town. The four fillies nodded enthusiastically, Scootaloo hitching the cart to her scooter, as they headed toward their destination.

Twilight Sparkle felt her ears flatten against her head in fear, as she walked down the dark corridor. Stretching out into invisibility, the corridor's walls were shadowed, and devoid of doors. The ceiling hidden amid pitched darkness, so that Twilight had no idea if it was seven feet above her head, or seven thousand. Walking forward, she winced at the clopping of her hooves against a floor of grey polished stone, the sound seeming deafening in the all consuming silence. Twilight knew none of this was real, yet the awareness of that fact did little to alleviate her unease. Nor did it allow her to stop or alter the event, as it played out in the same manner as it had the first time.

Twilight had been having this dream regularly for the last six months. There didn't seem to be much of a pattern to how often she had it, only that it typically occurred at least once a week. That said, repetition hadn't done anything to make it any less worrying. As she inexplicably reached the end of the supposedly infinite corridor. The narrow space terminating at the entrance to a room with two of its walls and the ceiling stretching off into oblivion. Only the wall directly opposite Twilight was visible, as well as a pair of familiar bipedal figures.

Both beings appeared frozen in a fierce battle. Their hands locked together with interlaced fingers, as each tried to push the other back. Currently, neither appeared to be winning, each straining against the other, their booted feet planted in what looked to be a perfectly circular puddle of liquid darkness. The pool of viscous black slime appearing almost like a wound in reality beneath their feet. Making it seem almost as if they were floating in mid air.

At first glance, the pair of bipeds appeared almost a mirror image of one another. They were exactly the same height. Each wearing a suit of magetech armor of green plates, over a brown leather-like substance, sans the tinted visored helmet Twilight knew went with it. The armor almost completely hiding their nearly indistinguishable, perfectly muscled bodies, that looked like living statues of an idealized human form. Their identical noble features, both framed by the same manestyle, a military crew cut. A detail made extra noticeable by the fact that Twilight knew for a certainty, that at least one of them had locks down to his shoulders in the waking world.

However, for all that they were similar, there were several clear cut differences. First was their hair, one of the twin's hair was jet black, set above an expression of stoic resolve, that didn't quite mask the hatred in his gaze. While the other had hair of brilliant blond, and bore an expression of pure wrathful malice. His mouth twisted into an ugly, if defiant, sneer. However, arguably the most notable difference between the two, was their eyes. The one with black hair had eyes of purest blue, set like glowing sapphires in his skull, and that burned with a purity and righteousness that Twilight could barely describe. However, the one with blond hair, had eyes of blood red. His gaze shimmering with the red light of a burning coal, and filled with a naked hatred, so strong it seemed almost to deepen the very shadows around him.

As always when she beheld them in this dream, Twilight felt her heart ache. A sense of helplessness and despair clawing at the back of her mind. As the ebon haired Derran Grandel, fought against one whom could only be his alter ego, and secondary consciousness. . . the Doom Slayer. Each of them frozen in an eternal contest for control, that she knew neither could ever win. However, Twilight had little time to consider that, as the next part of the dream began.

Five objects appeared before Twilight, all arrayed in a row, and hovering two feet above the polished grey floor. To her left, was what looked like a pair of roses made of silver wire and gold leaf, positioned with their stems crossed over each other. To her right, was a pair of wickedly sharp steel daggers, also crossed over one another as if displayed on a wall. And finally, directly in front of her, and seemingly thrown in at random, was a set of scales. As always in this dream, Twilight was given little time to scrutinize the items. Before a pair of voices speaking in perfect unison, called out in frantic desperation. One voice sounding as though snarled by a wild beast, and the other seeming as clear as a bell of crystal. The cry echoing forth, even as the static figures remained as incapable of movement as when Twilight first beheld them.

"THE DAGGERS TWILIGHT!! GIVE ME THE DAGGERS!!"

The voices tones were a mix of strain and desperation, a plea born from a struggle that was life or death. Instantly, a feeling of terror and panic seized Twilight, as she almost involuntarily reached for the pair of Daggers. Only to hesitate suddenly, as she regarded the other two items. Fighting against her fear, and the surge of anxiety that her hesitation might have sealed the fate of her truest love, Twilight struggled to understand what the other floating objects meant. Reasoning they must be there for a purpose, and that this situation had to be more complex than a simple brawl. Only to flinch, as a pair of panicked screams, in perfect synchronicity, reached her.

"TWILIGHT PLEASE!! I NEED A WEAPON!!"

The fear in those voices, a fear Twilight could never have imagined hearing in them before, instantly broke whatever sense of focus Twilight had been able to maintain. Unable to ignore the desperate cries of the man she loved, Twilight reached out for the daggers. The thought of losing him filling her with an unrivaled sense of desperation and horror. Yet, as always, the instant her hoof touched the glittering steel of the weapons, the entire scene collapsed into darkness, as Twilight's eyes snapped open.

Staring at her ceiling, Twilight let out a groan, as she turned to look at her bedside clock, currently reading 6:45. Normally she set her alarm for seven, and considered closing her eyes again to try and steal another fifteen minutes of sleep. Unfortunately, she knew from past experience, that after waking up from her reoccurring dream, she'd be far too filled with nervous energy to sleep.

Throwing off the covers, Twilight yawned, as she reluctantly rolled out of bed and stretched. Her wings making a few odd pops as she flared them out. Her room was dark, the curtains drawn, and with only a few faint tendrils of light peaking through. The faint illumination still creating just enough of a contrast to throw the furniture and walls surrounding her into shadow. With a pulse of her magic, Twilight threw the curtains open, revealing a pair of glass double doors, opened just enough to cool the room, and a large balcony of carved crystal overlooking Ponyville. The parting curtains instantly flooded the room with the light of the morning sun, as Twilight turned toward the perfectly organized vanity opposite her bed.

Instantly, Twilight was greeted by the smiling faces of her friends, courtesy of innumerable photos cluttering the built in mirror. Moving towards the cushioned stool in front of the vanity by memory alone, and with her eyelids still partially weighed down by sleep, Twilight ran her comb through her bed-head ridden mane. Wondering, in between yawns, and for the millionth time, what her strange dream could mean.

While she wouldn't exactly call the dream a 'nightmare', it was hardly pleasant, and always left her with a vague sense of unshakable dread. What's more, it often seemed as if the dream was annoyingly incomplete. Considering she never saw beyond the point where she touched the daggers. Equally frustrating was that, despite racking her brains countless times for an answer, Twilight couldn't even begin to imagine what the items accompanying the dagger could possibly mean. The scale was the only one Twilight had any ideas on. Her current theories were that either she was supposed to help Derran balance his two sides, or that there was some sort of decision that needed to be weighed carefully.

As for the metal roses, Twilight hadn't the slightest clue. Maybe a metaphor for the love Derran and she shared? A sign of future tragedy? Considering the gold and silver they were made of, it could even be an obscure reference to Celestia. Even the daggers were unclear. In her dream Twilight always reached for them to give Derran a way to protect himself from. . . well, himself. Yet they could just as easily be a warning against some sort of betrayal. A knife in the back perhaps? Though that did make it rather odd that there were two of them. Then again, for all Twilight knew, it could be a sign that Derran needed a new set of kitchen knives. And all of that was assuming the dream meant anything at all, and wasn't just lingering stress from Derran's fit of berserker rage six months ago.

If Twilight was honest, the events of that day in Thunderspire still weighed on her. It had taken Derran nearly a week to return home after leaving the devastated city, during which she had endlessly fretted. What he had been doing during that week of absence, she still didn't know, and when asked, Derran simply claimed the journey had merely taken longer than he expected.

After Derran had come home, things had more or less gone back to normal, with most of the ponies in his life just glad he was back to his old self. Yet, Twilight couldn't stop feeling slightly uneasy, not of Derran, but for him. She still loved and trusted him unconditionally, but the events six months ago had deeply shaken her. Showing Twilight that Derran's life had left scars deeper and far more terrible than she ever could have imagined. And her recurring dream, while vague and unclear, only continued to reinforce the idea in Twilight's head that Derran needed her help. Though, if she was honest, she had no idea what sort of help he required, let alone how she could grant it to him. Not to mention, ever since coming back, he'd not been anything save his usual charming self. Almost to the point Twilight could believe the events six months ago, had themselves just been a bad dream.

Pausing in her efforts to tame the unruly strands of her mane, Twilight sighed in frustration. Turning to stare at a framed picture propped up on the top of the vanity, next to a small case of barely used makeup. The frame was made of silver wire, twisted into the shape of a heart. The picture within, showing the gently smiling face of the only stallion, or more accurately: man, that Twilight had ever truly loved. Caressing the frame with her hoof, Twilight wondered if she should talk to Luna about the odd nocturnal visions. She and Celestia would be joining Twilight and Derran for a date before the party next week, so maybe she could ask her then? Now that she thought of it, it would probably be a good idea to include Celestia in the conversation. After all, who besides Twilight herself, knew and cared about Derran more than the royal sisters? Even if they ultimately couldn't help, it would be a relief just to talk to somepony she trusted about her concerns. Something she was forced to admit, she'd been avoiding.

Lately, between her duties as a princess, her relationship with Derran, Celestia and Luna, constructing the new School of Friendship, her personal magical researches, her normal day-to-day, and the odd friendship quest, Twilight had been dragging her hooves on seeing to her own mental well being. Letting out a slight chuckle, she recalled her thoughts a year prior, when she had lamented not having enough to do. At that thought, Twilight felt a flare of resolve burn in her chest. That settled it, she was going to talk to Luna and Celestia about this, and together, they would figure out her dream, and put her worries to rest for good! However, just as she was basking in the glow of her self affirmation, Twilight was pulled from her thoughts by a strange sound echoing through the barely open doors leading to her balcony.

Pricking her ear, Twilight tried to make out the sound. A deep, reverberating sort of twang, that seemed oddly familiar. Curious, Twilight rose and moved toward the crystal and glass door separating her room from the balcony. Using her magic, Twilight gripped the golden handles and stepped out onto the platform of crystal jutting from the side of her castle. Looking down over the railing, her eyes widened with surprise, a second before her mouth curled into an ear to ear smile, accompanied by a slight blush. The sight below her, instantly smothering what remained of her earlier dark thoughts, beneath a tidal wave of joy, love, and a bit of embarrassment.

There, on the patch of grass just below Twilight's window, holding an electric guitar, and flanked by all four of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, was none other than Derran Grandel. He was dressed in a tight black shirt, with the top button undone. Over this he wore an unfastened brown tweed sports coat, with almost invisible brown buttons. His generally favored black dress pants were fastened with a brown leather belt, covered in designs like flowering vines, with a simple golden buckle. On his feet, he wore a pair of brown leather shoes, while finally, around his neck, was a loosely fastened black wool scarf. The whole outfit seemed a bit heavy for summer, but Twilight couldn't argue that Derran did look quite dashing in it.

There was also a small group of other ponies surrounding Derran and the Crusaders, that Twilight didn't recognize. Each stationed at a different instrument. Glancing up at Twilight with a mischievous smile and a wink, Derran glanced at the band around him. Each giving a nod, before, with a slight flourish, Derran gave an exaggerated snap of his fingers, and they began to play. The drummer swiftly established the beat, as the plucking of a bass guitar shaped itself into an overlying rhythm. Derran joining in with the higher pitched chords of his guitar at the proper moment. Until, signaled by a brief solo from the bass guitar, he began to sing. . .

(Song: Always a Winner, by Pete Murry)

Twilight watched and listened, blushing ever brighter as she was entranced by the song. What little exhaustion that still clung to her, was swiftly erased, as the tune and lyrics flowed over her. Swaying to the music, Derran never took his eyes off of Twilight, keeping up a mysterious smile, even as he continued the song. At his side, the Crusaders bobbed their heads in time to the beat, wide smiles on their faces, as Derran sang his heart out.

As the song went on, Twilight found herself whisked through countless happy memories of her and Derran. Their first official date, where Derran had prepared her a gourmet candlelit dinner, and then read the new Daring Do novel to her aloud. Even going so far as to imitate the voices of the heroic Daring Do, the duplicitous Doctor Caballeron, and the fearsome Ahuizotl. He then took her up to the highest balcony in the castle, where he had set up her telescope, astronomy books, and a blanket. So they could watch a meteor shower and drink mulled cider together under the stars.

Or their first date together with Celestia and Luna. Where Derran had somehow gotten them all tickets to a sold out show at the Canterlot Opera house. Where they saw a hilarious mystery/comedy about a bungling pony detective with a Prench accent, trying to recover a rare pink colored diamond. Afterword, Derran had taken them to a delightful restaurant, featuring a live jazz band. Apparently having bribed the owner of the normally overbooked establishment, with a recipe for peach cobbler taught to him by his mother. Twilight had had that cobbler herself, so it didn't surprise her that the restaurant owner was willing to do almost anything to get her hooves on it.

As she listened to the words of the song, bathed in countless happy memories, Twilight's mind briefly wandered to three small black velvet boxes, hidden deep in her closet, and containing some recent purchases of hers. Something she intended to give to Derran, Celestia, and Luna at the surprise party she and her fellow princesses were planning next week. Awash in an ocean of love and joy, Twilight was sorely tempted to just say to Tartarus with it, and give Derran his, right then and there. However, in the end, despite her near delirious euphoria, she held back. The question she planned to ask her three paramours, was beyond important, and everything had to be perfect. Still, it was extremely tempting.

Twilight was gently pulled from her thoughts, as Derran stopped singing to perform a solo on his guitar. Twilight was impressed, he'd come a long way for somepony who just started learning ten months ago. Yet, as she listened and watched, Twilight felt her eyes widen, as Derran, inexplicably, started getting closer. For a split second, Twilight felt shock blast away the rapturous entrancement created by the song. As she wondered: "How in Equestria is Derran FLYING?!" Only for her thoughts to settle slightly, when she noticed Derran's shoes glowing with a combined yellow and green magical aura. The same aura currently emanating from the horn's of Sweetie Belle and Dinky Hooves, both of whom bore expressions of fierce concentration.

As he floated to become eye level with Twilight, Derran reached out a hand to take her hoof, as his solo ended. The music quieting. As his voice lowered, and he sang the next few lines of the song.

Pick me up don't bring me down
Take me right now to the other side of town
That's where I wanna be, you and me alone
We've gotta build it right up so we can make it our home

Then, with a wink, Derran released Twilight's hoof and whirled away, in a midair maneuver that no doubt taxed Sweetie Belle and Dinky's mystical skills to their limits to pull off. As a keyboard played along to the rising tempo of the music. Derran still keeping his eyes firmly on Twilight, and singing like his life depended on it, continued to smile, as he was slowly levitated back down to earth. The two Crusaders who had briefly granted him the power of flight, looking exhausted, but glowing with pride. Derran sparing them a grateful nod, as he concluded the song.

Unable to wipe the smile from her face, or the blush from her cheeks, Twilight opened her mouth to offer praise for the heartfelt and flattering performance. Only to be interrupted by the sound of a set of hooves and a set of claws applauding, as a pair of familiar voices cheered from off to the side.

"Bravo! Bravo! Encore!!" Starlight Glimmer all but screamed. Madly clapping her hooves in front of her as she sat back on her haunches.

"Whoo! Rock on Derran!!" Shouted Spike, as he put two claws in his mouth to give a piercing whistle of approval.

Still clad in their bedclothes, Starlight and Spike's cries of enthusiasm continued. As Derran arched an eyebrow in mild surprise. Struggling not to laugh, Twilight gave a helpless shrug. That Derran and the band copied, as they smiled and gave the two unexpected onlookers an appreciative bow. . .

Sins of the Future

Author's Note

Hello everyone, Thule117 here hoping you're all staying safe during this latest assault by COVID. I was considering waiting a week before posting this chapter, but decided to put out early in celebration of the aptly (if slightly uncreatively) named "My Little Pony: A New Generation" movie. Here's hoping that our new main characters are every bit as delightful as the old.

I myself have a few lingering worries, but considering how much fun I had watching the trailer (approximately fifteen or so times by now) I feel cautiously optimistic. Besides, the new CGI style character models are heartbreakingly adorable, enough so that they could charm even my cold dead heart.

As always I give thanks to my editor Bronyshot2020 for his hard work in preparing this chapter for posting, despite the demands of attending college classes in the age of COVID. Now, as always, on with the chapter. . .

Sins of the Future

"A whispered lie, drowns out a screamed truth."

-D'nurian proverb

Doctor Samual Hayden walked down the long red carpeted hallway with a faint twinge of annoyance. Not that you would ever know it from the confidant stride of the over seven foot tall heavily armored robotic chassis that was now his body. Having long ago given up what more ignorant men would describe as his 'humanity', Hayden possessed none of the biological tells that would normally indicate how little he enjoyed being here. Without a face, he had no expression to read. Lack of a nervous system meant no ticks or unconscious body language for an observer to gauge unless he wished it. And with an entirely synthetic voice, Hayden would always be able to modulate his tone to maximum benefit in any situation. Regardless of how he actually felt.

Heading through a pair of heavy stained mahogany doors. Hayden barely spared a glance at the pair of armed guards on either side of it. Each wearing suits, sunglasses, and a pair of unobtrusive communications devices, while they blatantly showed off a pair of compact automatic weapons. Had Hayden still been biological, he might have involuntarily smiled. The so called 'security forces' protecting the council of the Armored Response Coalition, or 'ARC' if you preferred an acronym, were honestly a joke.

For all the the shades and suit wearing ex-military security looked impressive, they were hardly a threat to anyone equipped with modern UAC weaponry. Under their suits the security teams wore merely a simple Kevlar vest, and they wielded absolutely archaic nine millimeter sub machine guns, using easily defeatable hollow-point rounds. Against a prepared enemy they were a speed bump. Against Hayden, they were worse than useless.

Even armor piercing rounds were little more than an irritant to the polynium plate carbon nanofiber weave layered composite, that made up most of Hayden's outer body. A section of it less than a millimeter thick was ten times the protection of titanium-steel alloy, at less than a tenth the weight. Even the latest high capacity fifty caliber UAC 'Heavy Cannon' assault rifle, would have a tough time hurting Hayden. Whereas it would rip through a Kevlar vest like soggy cardboard. And that was before he activated the micro-shield generators embedded in his arms, legs, and chest, that effectively turned him into a walking tank.

The shield generators and extra armor, were a relatively new addition to Hayden's artificial physiology. Something that he had concluded, he should have done long ago. Even over a year after it happened, Hayden still vividly remembered how utterly helpless his mechanical body had been, in the face of the wrath of the being who had torn him apart, and left him for dead on Mars. He supposed that was the price of his version of immortality. Machines didn't forget, and every event, no matter how far in the past, was recalled as if it was no more than an hour ago. Even so, Hayden didn't regret his choice to become what he was. It was but one sacrifice of many, needed to insure humanity's salvation. These constant meetings, irritating as they were, were another.

The council chamber was a far larger room than was necessary for its function. At nearly fifty feet across and wide, it was designed to make those entering feel small. The red carpet of the hallway abruptly ceased, to be replaced by a long red runner rug, over a floor of black granite tiles polished to a mirror finish. Idly, Hayden allowed his brain to calculate how much polish was required on a weekly bases to keep it looking like that. The rug terminated at a small dais, on which a lectern, equipped with a microphone, sat. While twenty feet in front of that, was a large stage on which was positioned a massive desk, over fifteen feet long. And seated behind the desk, occupying twelve chairs, and looking down at Hayden as if he was Oliver Twist asking for another helping of gruel, was the ARC council. In theory, the penultimate military and government authority on planet earth, and Hayden's, again theoretically, bosses.

"You're late Hayden. . ." Stated the president of the American Union. The ruling body in charge of both North and South America, since their unification nearly seventy years ago, following World War III. The man, who's name Hayden barely cared to recall, no doubt intended the statement to sound aloof and detached, but in reality sounded more on the petulant side.

"Apologies council members. As you can imagine, there is quite a bit to prepare for before I depart tomorrow." Hayden replied, artificially altering his tone to sound conciliatory and good natured.

"Be that as it may, the council also requires your attention. We need updates on your status, and a rundown of the plan." This was the prime minister of the Asiatic Republic. Like the American Union, and most of the other countries making up the council, they had been formed after World War III, following the collapse of The People's Republic of China. And included everything from what used to be Kazakhstan and Mongolia, down to former chunks of Russia and sections of Indonesia. Granted, much of that area was effectively empty wasteland, thanks to a combination of climate change and nuclear bombardment during the war. Hayden activated a protocol designed to simulate unconscious body language, so as to express polite surprise, despite feeling nothing but annoyance.

"Really? I could of sworn I sent you all a full report?" The prime minister simply glared at Hayden.

"Your, 'report' was rather light on specifics. So we brought you here to give us a verbal account." Had Hayden still been mortal, he likely would have sighed. Having grown more than a little weary of trying to be polite in the face of the council members posturing.

"I take it you want a detailed explanation of the situation then?" The president of the American Union nodded.

"I think my colleagues and I all would. We dislike being kept in the dark." Hayden acknowledged the statement with a nod of his own, despite feeling a distinct pulse of contempt.

"Very well." He stated, as he activated a set of holographic projectors built into his head. Instantly, they rendered a life sized three dimensional image of a tall man, covered head to toe in a suit of high tech armor, that looked like something out of a science fiction novel.

"As you all know, this is the being known as the 'Doom Slayer'. An ancient warrior from a world we know only as 'D'nur'. Which my researches of the Corax Tablets led me to believe was a kind of 'alternate earth'. At some point in the past, how long ago is impossible to determine given our limited data, he waged a one man war against the denizens of the dimension from which raw Argent Energy is harvested." At this point the president of the Commonwealth of Africa scoffed.

"We are not children here Hayden, and we all have the necessary security clearance. Call them what they are. . . the Demons of Hell." Hayden privately felt the African president's opinion regarding the council's maturity level was lacking in self awareness, but equally felt it impolitic to say as much. So he simply gave a shallow nod, the hologram flickering slightly as he did so.

"Yes, he entered the dimension we refer to as 'Hell', and fought the creatures our ancient religions considered 'Demons'." Hayden affirmed, ignoring the sound of twelve people uncomfortably shifting. Which did nothing to erode his feeling's on the council's emotional maturity. "We have no idea how long that crusade lasted. However, we do know that it ended with his imprisonment by the demons. We hypothesize that they elected to do this, because they were too afraid to attempt to kill him." Yet again Hayden found himself interrupted by the African president.

"We all know this story already Hayden. We know you discovered him and kept him under lock and key as a fail-safe. We know once you activated him he proved utterly beyond control. And we know he destroyed all possibility of Argent Energy production without the object you call the Crucible. What we don't understand, is how you plan to get it back, and why exactly you demanded cart blanche over every military in the world to do it?!" Yet again, Hayden felt he would have sighed, had he still possessed the proper biological components.

"First, I should explain that the disappearance of the Doom Slayer was no accident. When the cross-dimensional teleportation prototype blew, it only had two coordinates programed into it: Hell and Mars. Even a random teleportation event should only have allowed him to arrive at one of those two destinations, yet, somehow, he arrived at a third." Now the Asiatic's prime minister spoke up again.

"And how do you even know this? How can you be sure he isn't wandering somewhere in Hell right now?" Hayden temporarily deactivated the holo-projector to shake his head. A gesture made purely to make him seem more human.

"When I installed the dimensional tether into his armor so I could bring him back from Hell, I also installed a sort of. . . locator beacon. It keeps track of his extradimensional coordinates, and lets me know roughly where he is, using a complex quantum mathematical aether algorithm. To put it another way: every dimension has an. . . 'address', for lack of a better term. You need that address programed into the teleporter in order to open a portal to or from the dimension in question. The beacon, among other things, constantly displays the address of the dimension the Doom Slayer is in. If, for the sake of simplicity, our address is 001 and Hell's is 002, then the Doom Slayer is in 003. A completely unknown dimension." The prime minister raised an eyebrow.

"You know it just occurred to me. Why can't you just bring this. . . Doom Slayer, back using that tether you mentioned?" Hayden at that point wondered if he could program himself not to feel exasperation, as he responded.

"I tried that, multiple times on the new portal generator we built at Fort Kincaid. Unfortunately, the tether was either damaged or disabled, or perhaps simply doesn't function in the dimension the Slayer is in. However I believe we are straying from the point. What I was attempting to convey, is that the Slayer is in a place the teleporter should have been incapable of sending him. As such, the only logical conclusion is that someone, or something, interfered with the machine. Moreover, they did it in such a way that I can find no conventional trace of it in the data I recorded of the event." The American President's voice sounded slightly uncomfortable as he asked his latest question.

"So. . . what does that mean exactly?" Hayden once more activated his holo-projectors to display an image of a stone tablet covered in strange glyphs, and an engraving of a figure swathed in robes that obscured its face and body.

"The Corax Tablets, describe a race of creatures called 'Seraphim'. Whom the demons believe the Doom Slayer must have encountered during his time as a mortal man. Supposedly, it was they who gave him the superhuman abilities he now possesses. The tablets offered no description of the Seraphim's form or origin, but they seem to be considered something akin to gods. Moreover, gods that have opposed Hell since the dawn of time. If what little the Corax Tablets say about these creatures is true, then they could have brought the Doom Slayer to them once his mission was complete. Granted that is mostly speculation, but based on the evidence available, it is the most likely scenario." The Asiatic Prime Minister made a face like she'd swallowed a lemon.

"I take it these 'Seraphim' wouldn't be interested in handing over the Crucible then?" Hayden, again, deactivated his hologram and shook his head.

"No, however they are described loosely as being 'protectors of all mortal life'. So they may not exactly be openly hostile. There is however, something else. . ." The Prime Minister gave Hayden a suspicious look.

"And that would be? . . ." Hayden vocalized clearing his throat. A purely theatrical gesture, but one that had the desired effect of adding a bit more gravitas to his words.

"When I explored Hell, I found that some of the Corax Tablets had been deliberately destroyed. However, I was able to piece together enough to uncover references to a 'Legion'. I never found out what this 'Legion' was, but it seemed to be a weapon, one supposedly wielded by the Seraphim, as in the Corax Tablets it is referred to as the: 'sword of the great enemy'. Allow me to read to you the translation of one of the few passages I uncovered regarding it." Here Hayden once more turned on his holoprojector. Allowing several lines of hellish runes to be displayed, as he narrated what they said. Deepening his artificial voice almost imperceptibly, in order to increase the psychological impact of the words.

And so did the sword of the great enemy cut free the seventh head of the beast.
And though three of the nine heads yet remained, even the mighty among the doomed, wailed in terror.
For the Legion, such as the weapon proclaimed itself, could not be stopped.
It was the great hypocrisy of the enemy, a shield to end all worlds.
Yet the ravages of time did weaken it, and so it was taken back by those whom cursed the Hells with it.
And so shall the doomed speak of it not, for fear of its return.
Yet even so, it is prophesied the great enemy's sword shall be drawn again, at the end of all things. . .

"The rest is just fragments." Hayden concluded. "However, if my guess is right about what happened, then there is an excellent chance the Doom Slayer may indeed have access to this weapon. And even if the Seraphim are willing to negotiate, I can assure you, he, will not." Stony silence greeted this pronouncement. Finally, a new voice spoke up.

"If I may ask Doctor Hayden. . . if your hunch is correct, what makes you think we can force the Slayer to give up the Crucible at all?" This question came from the Prime Minister of the European Union, one of the few reformatted governments to keep its old name, if not its shape and method of function. Here Hayden abruptly deactivated the hologram.

"Because councilor, I have met the Doom Slayer. More than that, I understand him. And that understanding has led me to a very important realization." He stated, an odd calm to his words.

"And that is?" The European Prime Minister asked.

"That beneath all the myths, legends, armor, weapons, and physical power, the Doom Slayer is a man." If Hayden could have, he would have smiled triumphantly as he finished. "And men. . . have weaknesses."

Colonel Alex Kline, stared at himself in the mirror with the stern expression most people expected of his rank. His short brown hair and strong features, framing a pair of dark brown eyes with golden flecks. Turning his head, he examined his face, making sure he hadn't missed a single errant hair during his earlier shave. Currently wearing his military dress uniform, he double checked the outfit was cleaned and properly pressed. Smoothing some imaginary creases over with his hands, he did his best to make the new braids and brass from his recent promotion feel normal. Suddenly, as Alex examined himself, he felt a pair of arms gently wrap around his neck. A smiling face coming into view in the mirror over his shoulder.

"I do love a man in uniform, but that face makes you look constipated." Declared Sam Kline, Alex's husband of nearly twelve years. Red haired and with delicate features, green eyes, and freckles that he always complained made him look like a kid, Sam wore a mischievous grin. Alex struggled to hold his officer's expression briefly, before bursting out laughing. "There, that's better." Sam declared with a chuckle. Alex just rolled his eyes as he got his laughter under control.

"Have I mentioned lately how glad I am that you aren't allowed on the parade ground?" He inquired with a chuckle of his own. Sam just let out a laugh.

"Afraid you'd lose me to some other strappingly handsome soldier?" He asked flippantly. Alex just let out a light laugh.

"Afraid the men would never respect me again is more like. An officer is supposed to take his job seriously at all times." Sam just frowned.

"Well that's a stupid rule." He deadpanned, before instantly brightening up again, as he placed a quick kiss on Alex's cheek. "Now hurry up and finish packing Colonel, the kids are waiting to say goodbye to you downstairs." Sam declared happily, as he headed out the door through their bedroom and into the hall. Alex just grinned as he shook his head and, with a final check in the mirror, moved into the bedroom.

Strewn across the king sized bed were Alex's two massive duffels, containing everything he would need for a six month deployment. Granted he and his men would just be on standby alert until further notice, but it paid to over-prepare. They might not be at war right now, and Alex frankly hoped it stayed that way, but the buildup of men and materiel, not just at base, but across the world, did little to reassure. Especially, Alex thought as he placed the last few odds and ends into his bags, considering what had happened.

It still all seemed so surreal, despite nearly a year since the story first came out, with the return of Samuel Hayden from the destroyed UAC facility on Mars. Experiments in travel to other dimensions? Meeting a civilization from not just another planet, but another universe entirely? And. . . the betrayal of the UAC and all of mankind, by the representative of that universe. Alex would never have believed it if he hadn't seen the security footage himself.

He still remembered seeing bits of it for the first time on the nightly news. That terrible armored figure, walking calmly down the corridors of the Mars facility, as he butchered UAC security forces the way Alex himself might swat a fly. It was almost impossible to imagine this was how first contact with an actual form of alien life would go. Alex had always thought it would be like Star Trek. Maybe a few cultural differences, but ultimately accepting those differences and working together. It could not have gone farther in the other direction.

Hayden offered them mankind's hand in friendship, and they responded by destroying the energy lifeline of the whole of Earth? Even Hayden himself had no idea why this visitor from the other side had done it. Supposedly negotiations had been going well, the other-world representative was cordial, and his people seemed eager for peaceful relations with humanity. Then, without warning, he had attacked. The UAC's defenses had been overwhelmed, as it was revealed that over a period of months, the other-world representative had subverted VEGA, the AI running the Mars facility.

VEGA had helped the bastard by opening the entire Mars facility to the outside just before he attacked. Venting the internal atmosphere to most of the base almost instantly. Thousands died in agony, choking to death on the martian air. Then VEGA had turned the base's automated defenses on those that remained. As the representative butchered his way through the facility using captured UAC weapons, and a suit of alien powered armor. He had spared no one in his path. In the security footage, Alex thought he had looked like something out of one of the old Terminator films he used to watch with his dad and brother as a kid. Only this. . . had been all too real.

Olivia Pierce, Hayden's second in command, had heroically died trying to keep the monstrous extradimensional terrorist from destroying the argent energy production facility. She had failed, and the alien man had destroyed the argent tower, and all its associated systems utterly. VEGA assisted him by wiping and corrupting all data linked to argent energy production, and helping him locate the core of the entire system, an alien artifact called the Crucible. Hayden had explained it was a piece of unique alien technology found on Mars by the UAC, and that it was the keystone of the argent energy generator. Despite years of studying the artifact, Hayden and the UAC had no means of manufacturing another, and the former alien ambassador had stolen it. Before fleeing, back to the world he had come from.

Hayden himself had even, in a desperate hail Mary, personally tried to stop the being from leaving, and nearly been killed for his trouble. It was then the entity explained that he was no ambassador, he was a soldier. His last words before leaving were to tell Hayden the chilling title his people had for him. They called him. . . The Doom Slayer. He gave no reason for initiating this clear act of war, not even saying if it had been an order, or his own decision.

Hayden had survived, barely, thanks mostly to his robotic nature. And for over three months, had hidden in a facility now controlled by the homicidal AI he had created. He might have perished there, if not for. . . Alex struggled to hold back tears as he zipped up the bag he just finished packing. His gaze falling on an old framed photo from his and Sam's wedding, perched on a nearby dresser. Walking over, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hanging in the air indecisively before, with a lump in his throat, he picked up the photo. There the three of them were. . . smiling like lunatics. Him, Sam, and . . . John. Picking up the photo, Alex stared at the face of his brother. Tall, good looking, with their father's dark hair and strong jawline. Alex remembered John's wife, Marie, had taken this photo.

Alex felt the tears trickling down his face, despite his best efforts. They told him John and his team had been taken by surprise by VEGA. That they had battled through near impossible odds to reach Hayden, and, not only extract him, but retrieve vital data on the location of the Doom Slayer, and the prototype portal designs needed to reach him. Only John had made it back to earth, or rather. . . his body had. He had died from his injuries on the return trip.

Samuel Hayden, and the President of the American Union, had both come personally to Alex's house to express their condolences. Assuring him, Sam and their children, and the grief stricken Marie and her children, that John and his team had died giving mankind a fighting chance. Hayden telling them how John had pulled him to safety, despite being grievously wounded. Stubbornly insisting that the mission be completed. Hayden had then told them that his last words, had been to ask him to tell his family how much he loved them, and to tell the families of his team how sorry he was that he couldn't bring them home. Alex shook his head, as another wave of tears rolled down his cheeks. . . that sounded just like John.

After that had come the reporters, wanting to interview them about John and his team. The media had lauded them as the heroes of all mankind. With one reporter even comparing his brother to Atlas, as, for a moment, the fate of all the world had been held on his shoulders. The funeral had been a grand affair, with dozens of world leaders, and tens of thousands of ordinary people, coming forward to offer flowers and kind words to the man, and the team, who's actions had likely saved them all. Still, all the flowers and kind words in the world weren't going to bring Alex's big brother back.

Placing the photo back on the dresser, Alex wiped his face free of tears as he hefted his two duffels. No one could bring John back. And while Alex would never wish for war. A small, dark part of him, desperately hoped that he'd get a shot at the man, or rather, the monster, that was his brother's ultimate killer. The one they called, the Doom Slayer. . .

"What do you think York? You think this is really gonna turn into a war?"

Private First Class York Maltis was snapped out of his daydreaming about his fiance, by the sound of his friend and squad mate, Private Alvin Ambrose's, voice. York was, much like his two friends, in his mid twenties. He had wavy, sandy hair, and was decently well built, though a bit on the lanky side. With eyes that were a unique amber color, and ears that looked normal, but he swore were too large. Turning to look with a faintly bewildered expression at his expectantly staring friend, York momentarily struggled to recall what Alvin, and PFC Martin Wayne, had been discussing.

"I uh. . . well it's hard to say." He stated noncommittally, hoping to buy himself time to think of a better answer. Alvin however, wasn't fooled for a minute, an eyebrow cocking above one of his dark brown eyes.

"Were you even listening? Typical white boy, never listening when the black man has somethin' to say." Alvin declared, his joking tone and easy smirk telling of a rapport between them built of long familiarity. York shook his head with a chuckle.

"Ok ok! I apologize! No need to go all soapbox on me!" He declared, holding up his hands defensively in mock surrender. Alvin smiled as he shifted position on the pallet of supplies they had staked out as they took a break. Around them, Fort KIncaid was in a state of organized chaos. Supplies and equipment of all descriptions were being shifted hither and yon by teams of engineers. Sargents barked orders at privates in the midst of daily drills, or helping to move equipment. Front loaders and cranes growled and beeped as they transferred pallets of food, medicine, ammunition, and vehicles from one end of the base to the other. Across the field near one of the munitions storage bunkers, a pair of NCO's shouted at each other over something. One waving a clipboard at the other in a fit of annoyance, while the other gestured wildly with his arms. From inside a vehicle housing bay, a new top of the line UAC manufactured APC, roared smartly out onto the road.

"Ain't no way there won't be a war." Opined Martin. "That bastard Doom Slayer is gonna get his, mark my words." Martin spat as he finished. That was just like Martin, York thought, struggling not to roll his eyes. Always hot under the collar and spoiling for a fight. Martin was a big man, tall and square jawed, and well muscled under his fatigues. With close cropped, wavy dark brown hair, tanned skin, and baby blue eyes over a crooked nose.

"Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure? Seems to me that Hayden's only real interest is the Crucible, and restarting Argent energy generation ASAP. Hell, the man said it himself: get the Crucible back, and there ain't no need for no war." Alvin declared evenly. Alvin was slighter than Martin, but highly athletic, the olympic sprinter to Martin's linebacker. He had dark ebon skin, brown eyes, and his black hair in tight cornrows. Alvin had a laid back manner, and smiling came naturally to him. He and York had become best friends in boot camp. Both had come from a military family, and both had trained for the marine corps together. That was where they had met Martin.

Martin was from the southwest of the Upper Union, as North America was now called. It was a hard place, climate change having made it virtually unlivable. Neither York or Alvin had ever asked, but they got the sense Martin used to run with a rough crowd. And that his military service had likely been the only alternative he had to incarceration. Martin just gave a laugh in response to Alvin's question. As he threw his arms out to gesture to the organized bedlam surrounding them.

"Look around you man." He declared, as though explaining an obvious point. "Look at all this shit!" He stated, his voice holding a tone that was almost reverent. "Countries all across the world are sending their soldiers to join up with ARC. Donating millions, maybe billions of tons of equipment, weapons and tech to the cause here in the Union. Even guys we used to be enemies with! I mean fuck man! Just the other day I saw a bunch of turbaned boys from the United Arab Caliphate march in here and salute one of our generals! Two years ago we were blowing those guys up by the truckload man!" Alvin just looked at Martin patiently, waiting for him to reach his point. "All of that shit, put together by one man. And I mean all of it. The UN being scrapped and turned into the Armored Response Coalition. The unification of humanity like we've never been united before, and making all the military's on the planet into a single force. The creation of the Zeus war mechs! For Christ sake, the creation of machines capable of literally ripping open the ass of space and sending us to another world! All of that. . . was done by one man!" Alvin just shrugged.

"Yeah, Samuel Hayden. So what?" Martin just gave a dark chuckle.

"Well come on? You really think the literal savior of humanity is gonna just let this Doom Slayer asshole off the hook?" Here Martin tapped the side of his head with his index finger as he leaned in toward York and Alvin conspiratorially. "You just trust in ol' Martin. Hayden? He's got a plan. A big plan. He's gonna get us our power back, and fix the Dick Slayer but good!" Alvin arched an eyebrow.

"The 'Dick Slayer'? Seriously man? That the best chu' got?" Martin just shrugged, as York finally spoke up.

"Isn't all this kind of a risk? I know nobody wants to say it but. . . Hayden basically controls the world right now. Think about it. The UAC is currently the single source producer of military and civilian tech on the entire planet. All our weapons and supplies are UAC. Not to mention Hayden is the only man on earth who knows how to make the Crucible work to produce Argent energy. Plus, he's the one who set up the ARC council to begin with. You know? The guys who are supposed to be in charge of making sure he stays honest? Hell, he picked over half the members himself." Alvin nodded sagely.

"Man makes a solid point. What's to stop Hayden from declaring himself King of earth after all this?" Martin just let out a laugh.

"What are you guys complaining about?!" He asked jovially. "Before Hayden created the ARC, all those government bureaucrats ever did was argue and lie to get votes. If they were in charge they'd just sit around with their thumbs up their asses while we all starved in the streets! Hayden is the one who organized everything to work right. Hell, he even made sure he had surplus Argent stored away in case of an emergency, enough to last the entire world at least two years! He's the reason none of our families are starving or dead right now. Why we still even have a society at all! You think some pencil necked fat ass in a suit could do that? If Hayden wants to be King, he's got my vote." Alvin just chuckled.

"Ain't how kings work man. But you got a point, Hayden does make the trains run on time. And even my boy over here, gotta admit that UAC prices are as cheap as they come." Alvin declared, gesturing toward York. "Hell, my family can buy a whole weeks worth a' groceries for just fifty bucks thanks to Hayden's hydroponics labs. An' he's seen what my family dinners are like, with all the siblings I got." York nodded slowly.

"I suppose that's true, but who's to say it will stay that way? Don't get me wrong, I trust Hayden, I just don't think any one man should have that kind of power, regardless of how good they may be. Though I suppose if that's what needs to happen to save mankind, you'd be hard pressed to find a better choice." Martin let out a laugh as he slapped his knee.

"Exactly! No need to worry boys! With Hayden at the helm, we'll be home by Christmas, war or not! We'll get back the Crucible, save the world, and make that bastard Doom Slayer wish he'd never so much as heard of earth!" York couldn't help but smile at that, as Alvin and Martin shared a fist bump.

"Sounds good to me." He declared, extending his arm forward. "For humanity." He declared, as his friends smiled, and placed their hands over his. Pausing for a brief shared smile, before raising their hands to the sky with a mighty roar.

"FOR HUMANITY!!"

Yet, even as the three finished their cheer, and headed back to there assigned stations. York, despite his earlier words, couldn't help but feel an echo of doubt. However he swiftly brushed it off. Martin was right. Hayden had a plan. More to the point, he was the only one who did. And if a war was what it took to pull it off. . . well, it was nothing less than the Doom Slayer asked for. . .

A World Without War

Author's Note

Hello everyone, apologies that this chapter took a bit longer than usual. The last two weeks of my life have been, substantially less than pleasant. First, my parent's cat (whom i picked out as a kitten) of nearly twenty years, died without me getting a chance to say a proper goodbye. Then I was suddenly called away to Arizona to aid in packing up my grandmother's winter home so it could be sold. I have been going there for over fifteen years to visit, so as you can imagine I was more than a little depressed by the task.

Then, no sooner had we gotten to Arizona than we received a call telling us that a dear friend of the family had died of cancer. That alone was bad enough, however a day later we also learned that his monster of an ex-wife, whom stole half a million dollars from him, and whom we had thought dead of an overdose, was alive and making life hell for his sons. I would explain further, but: A. it is not my story to tell, and B. it is a rabbit hole of insanity right out of a bad soap opera, that I struggle to even understand.

Yet, despite all of this, the universe still managed to find a sling and arrow or two left in its quiver. As not a day later, we learned that one of my aunts had a cancerous lump on her throat. Considering she has a husband and two daughters just starting college, this news seemed as vile a jest as any I have ever heard. The only good news being that it was caught in time for treatment to be viable and have a high chance of success.

All in all the last month has been beyond draining, miserable, and a mockery of the idea that any form of justice exists in the universe at large. My only solace is that I did get to spend time with some family members I haven't seen in awhile. At any rate, given all that, I was unable to post this chapter till now, and why after I post it, I am likely going to go straight back to bed.

Anyway, hopefully things will settle in the coming weeks, and my next message to you all will be a bit more positive. As always, I extend thanks to my editor Bronyshot2020. And I also wish everyone a very happy Halloween/Nightmare Night. May your treats be tasty, your tricks hilarious, and your entrails undevoured by a psychologically broken alicorn. Now, on with the chapter. . .

A World Without War

"Without warriors, there can be no war."

-Unknown Philosopher

"So my Lady, what is this 'big surprise' you so urgently wished me to see?" Derran inquired.

"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?" Twilight replied, a hint of mischief in her voice. It had been several hours since she had awoken to Derran's pseudo-anniversary serenade, and she was still riding the emotional high. After the band had been thanked and departed, Derran had taken Twilight, the Crusaders, Starlight, and Spike, to the local diner for breakfast. There, over waffles, pancakes, and bottomless mugs of coffee. He had regaled them with tales of the goings on in the royal city, and his, mostly uncoerced, participation in the upcoming Canterlot fashion show.

The Crusaders, Dinky among them, had in turn talked about the ponies they had helped, school, and their various plans for the week. Starlight had told of how she, Trixie, and Maud were planning a mares weekend in Las Pegasus next month, as well as her ongoing research with Twilight into a number of new mystical projects. Spike chatted about Princess Ember coming to see them for a visit in a few months, before telling them about a recent letter he had received from the Changeling King Thorax. It had been a morning surrounded by family and friends, just enjoying each other's company. Twilight couldn't have asked for a more wonderful beginning to the day.

Now however, after bidding their friends and family goodbye, Twilight was on a mission. She had been wanting to tell Derran about a certain breakthrough in some highly secret researches for several days, but held off. The surprise in question was the result of months of careful study and analysis of certain tools and objects in Derran's possession. That had been preceded by weeks of begging, pleading, and convincing by Twilight to let her borrow them. Now that she finally had something to show for it, she was eager to demonstrate to Derran that his trust hadn't been misplaced.

Wending their way through the streets of Ponyville, Twilight was all but trembling with excitement. Around them, ponies called out to her and Derran with greetings or well wishes, but only Derran returned them with any degree of energy. Twilight just gave absentminded hellos or halfhearted waves as she moved through the street at an energetic canter. Far too caught up in her own thoughts to give the world around her more than a sliver of attention. It wasn't just wanting to show off her scientific prowess to Derran that made her so eager. The primary reason for her elation was, if she was honest, far more personal. . .

The truth was, though Twilight had never said it aloud, she often felt guilty about how much Derran did for her. Cooking, cleaning, helping her with research, assisting with her princess duties, listening to her problems, waking her with a romantic song outside her window. Not to mention occasionally giving her the most mind blowing massages she'd ever received when she was stressed. All this without complaint, or even a thought of reward. Every day in a thousand ways, big and small, Derran told Twilight how much he loved her. It was frankly all too rare, in Twilight's opinion, that she got the chance to return the favor. Today however, she was determined, would be one of those days.

Derran smiled as he followed along at Twilight's side, occasionally calling out greetings to various acquaintances and friends.

"Good morning Lady Roseluck, pleasure to see you again."

"Lady Daisy, lovely as always, do I espy a new manecut?"

"Lord Cranky, glorious to see you. How is Lady Matilda?"

The replies were always swift, and delivered with a smile or, in Cranky's case, with a slight reduction of his usual frown.

"Good morning Derran, good to have you back."

"Hey Mr. Grandel, yes it is, thanks for noticing."

"Hello Derran, she's doing fine. Glad you're back in town."

In Derran's mind, this was far better than Canterlot. Here he wasn't some figure of legend whom ponies bowed and scraped to at every turn. There was no formality or expression of overt awe, and no one ever addressed or saw him as 'Lord'. He was just 'Derran Grandel', a fellow Ponyvillian who came back home after a week of travel. He was one of them, nothing more and nothing less. Derran had known more than a few men in his time who dreamed of exalted titles and the power of the crown. However, as far as he was concerned, they could keep them. A fancy title is no substitute for a sense of belonging. And as he and Twilight turned the corner, Derran did indeed feel like he belonged.

"Here we are! I can't wait for you to see what we've been working on!" Derran arched an eyebrow to glance at the building in front of them. Three stories tall, with a red tiled roof and covered in cracked yellow stucco, the house before them was one of the larger ones in Ponyville. It might have been a mansion at one time, but the current occupant had turned it into something better described as a Rube Goldberg machine that someone had attached a door to.

The towering structure was a mess of pipes, hoses, tanks, and funnels that twisted in and out of the stucco and the brick walls beneath. Atop the remains of the roof, was a random collection of antennas, windmills, and radio dishes, not to mention a large telescope not at all dissimilar to the one Twilight had in her castle, if rather more precariously placed and rickety looking. Thick copper wires covered in cracked and weathered rubber, extended from these myriad protrusions down into the house. The faint hum of flowing electricity just barely audible above the morning songs of Ponyville's bird population.

To a casual observer, the towering monstrosity of a structure, looked like it could barely support its own weight. But Derran knew better. The house's supports had been expertly reinforced with a complex alchemical alloy, not all that dissimilar to a primitive form of magesteel. The walls were cunningly altered to accommodate a combination of armor plating, fire retardant, and sound proofing. The windows were strong enough to survive a rocket strike, and the roof was hardened to the point that even a direct artillery bombardment would barely scratch it. And all those were before Lady Twilight and Starlight had enhanced the structure with innumerable wards and magical shields. At this point, even Derran wouldn't have been able to force his way in without significant difficulty. Ironic, considering the idea was not to keep ponies out, but to keep dangerous experiments, and the occasional errant explosion, in.

This structure, altered, armored, and mystically enhanced, was the home of one of the most preeminent scientists of Equestria, Doctor Whooves. Easily one of the greatest, and most eccentric, minds in the world. It had been some time ago that Derran and Twilight had been introduced to the Doctor through Derpy Hooves, who had known him since they were foals. And Twilight and the Doctor had hit it off almost immediately. Derran considered himself a fairly intelligent man, but when Twilight and the Doctor had started talking and comparing theories, he had felt like nothing so much as a child sitting at the adult's table. Hearing them talk about planar spatial dynamics this, and chronomantic theory that. . . it was like listening to them converse in a foreign language.

As it happened, the Doctor had asked Derpy for the introduction to Derran and Twilight himself, because of an epiphany Derran had unwittingly given him. It turned out that until he'd seen Derran and his armor, it had, rather amazingly, never occurred to him that magic and science need not be separate disciplines of study. Magical Technology was, as the Doctor put it: the 'philosopher's stone of scientific endeavor'. To hear the Doctor tell it, he had been, until now, trying to advance his knowledge of the cosmos by doing the equivalent of reading a book with half the pages torn out. Treating natural and supernatural phenomena like they were each their own form of machine, rather than two parts of a far greater mechanism. Only when he saw Derran literally wearing evidence of this fundamental truth, were his eyes opened. The Doctor had then sought him and Twilight out, in hopes that they might aid him in combining his research of the natural and mechanical, with that of the supernatural and enchanted, for the good of all Equestria.

Needless to say, Twilight had been all for it. As she herself had been engaged in similar research on her own. To her, the Doctor's offer and enthusiasm was tantamount to a Light-sent gift. Derran however, had been somewhat more hesitant. Especially when Doctor Hooves explained what he wanted from him. Nothing less than permission to borrow and study one of the most powerful pieces of magical technology the multiverse had ever seen: The Praetor Suit. That, had most certainly given Derran pause.

It wasn't that Derran was against the development of Equestrian magetech per say. He knew better than anycreature the shining wonders such research could create. However, he also was well acquainted with what horrors it could unleash. Even disregarding that the Praetor Suit was in fact demonic magetech. Many were the sorrows born by D'nur in the refinement of modern magical technology. Nanotech viruses, necro bombs, artificial lifeforms too horrible to describe, mass cloning, reality engines. And those were merely a few of the extreme examples. There were plenty of more mundane forms of magetech that could cause untold destruction in the wrong hands, or hooves. Plasma beams, blast rifles, screamer cannons, cutter guns. Any one of these weapons could slaughter hundreds or even thousands of Equestrians if misused.

Derran had no intention of allowing Equestria to become ground zero for a magetech arms race. However, he couldn't deny the benefits Equestria could reap from some of the more peaceful aspects of magetech research. On D'nur, disease had been all but a thing of the past. With even birth defects or genetic disorders having become easily fixable. Heck, even people at the brink of death could be revived with a simple magically charged bioplasma injection. Manufacturing systems could be made hyper efficient, environmentally friendly, and easy to construct. Vehicular flight, and other forms of mechanical transportation, could become commonplace. Once dangerous exploration could be made as safe as an evening stroll, or crops made to grow faster and healthier. In time they might even extend their reach into the greater cosmos, or to other dimensions entirely.

In the end, Derran had agreed to allow for the study of his armor, under the condition that no weapons be built using what they learned, and that all discoveries be signed off on by himself, and each of the Seraphim, before presentation to the public. As for the Praetor Suit's demonic nature, the UAC had studied the armor extensively for some time without incident. It wasn't exactly a guarantee that the suit had no power to corrupt those around it, but considering how hard the UAC had been looking for trouble, it was good enough. Though he did warn both the Doctor and Twilight to always have the proper magical protections in place when analyzing its systems.

That had been about four months ago. Honestly, considering the complexity of the suit, and the usual slow pace of scientific advancement, Derran was amazed Twilight had anything to show him yet. As she pressed the doorbell for the Doctor's home, Derran couldn't help but wonder if this might be a trap created by the suit. True, he'd never had reason to think the suit was inherently dangerous, despite its purpose and origin. However, one never knew. Yet, as the door opened to reveal a pony with a dark brown mane and tail, hazel wood colored coat, free standing collar and bowtie, and a cutie mark featuring an hourglass, he felt his concerns ebb. The Doctor looked the same as he ever did, his face lighting up at the sight of his visitors.

"Ah! Excellent, you're here!" He declared without preamble. "Come come! I was just about to start another test of the device!" Derran arched an eyebrow.

"Device?" He asked in an inquiring tone. The Doctor smiled as he turned to head back inside, waving enthusiastically for Derran and Twilight to follow him.

"The product of months of collaboration, blood, sweat and tears my friend! An outstanding achievement for the ages! Establishing new, groundbreaking frontiers, in the field of magic and science!" Derran chuckled, the Doctor, as always, having his own rambling sense of the dramatic.

"With respect Doctor, that was not exactly an answer." Derran stated with a grin. The Doctor simply laughed.

"All in good time my friend. Come! This is a red letter day!" Twilight nodded in agreement, as she followed after the Doctor.

"Just trust us Derran, you're gonna love this!" Derran shrugged, dutifully following after his beloved.

The hallway leading into the Doctor's lab was surprisingly neat, considering how little attention its owner seemed to pay to such things. The narrow passage hung with various framed diagrams and blueprints, as well as a few faded prints of wildflowers, and a newer painting of a blueberry muffin. Beneath their feet and hooves, was a threadbare runner rug covered in floral designs, and at the end, just after a door the Doctor abruptly turned into, was a small end table supporting a ceramic vase, filled with dried sunflowers. Following Twilight and the Doctor's lead, Derran ducked under the pony sized door, to enter the cavernous laboratory.

The lab had originally been the lion's share of the first two floors of the Doctor's house. However, after tearing out most of the second floor, and with a little creative redistribution of the load bearing supports, the area now looked more like a warehouse. It was filled with tables covered in strange pieces of disassembled machinery and discarded spare parts, or chemistry stations, on which strange liquids of varying colors bubbled and steamed. Arcane and mystifying devices whirred and beeped along the walls, and overhead were various vehicles suspended by wires for display, or half built and supported by scaffolding.

However, what most drew the eye, was the object the Doctor and Twilight were heading toward. It was a sprawling mass of vacuum tubes, wires, glowing crystals, bubbling flasks, and sparking tesla coils. All hooked up in a haphazard fashion to what looked like a primitive computer monitor. The screen was surrounded with lacquered wooden paneling, covered in countless brass knobs and buttons. Just below the screen, was a slot, in which a vaguely familiar plastic cartridge rested. Instantly, Derran felt his eyes widen.

"Impossible. . ." He whispered, his voice a mix of wonder and disbelief. Twilight just turned and gave a small smile, her voice sympathetic as she spoke.

"Starlight told me you once said he was the closest thing you had to a friend back on Mars. . ." Derran just stared at the computer screen, while the Doctor fiddled with it. Turning various knobs and dials and checking the wires connections. "I figured the the least we could do is try to reunite you."

Derran instantly felt a thousand conflicting thoughts roar to the surface of his mind. It was true VEGA had helped him immensely in stopping the demonic incursion on Mars. That said, that was at the behest of his creator, Samuel Hayden. It was also true that Derran had reason to believe VEGA regretted helping assist in the research of Hell, and the development of Argent Energy. However, that was based on a single vague phrase spoken at the moment of VEGA's 'death'.

Derran wanted to believe that VEGA was indeed an ally. But just wanting something did not mean it was possible, or even likely. VEGA was still a creation of Hayden, and Hayden had been utterly and irretrievably insane. The saying 'the apple never falls far from the tree' flashed through Derran's mind with an uncomfortable intensity. As Doctor Whooves completed his adjustments. For a moment, Derran considered telling the Doctor to stop, but he held off. Even if VEGA was able to communicate with them as he once did, there was little to no chance he could do any real harm. The machine before them was undeniably one of a kind. Even if VEGA had wanted to escape and cause havoc, there were no machines for him to control, and no way for him to transmit to them even if there were. Be that as it may however, as the Doctor straightened up, Derran vowed that they would all be having an AI interaction safety protocol discussion in the very near future.

"All ready?" The Doctor asked. Derran, after a moment of hesitation, nodded. Quelling a sudden surge of apprehension as he did so. "Excellent! Here's one for the history books!" The Doctor declared, as he very deliberately pressed the activation button.

Instantly, there was a loud hiss of static, as the crystals and tubes surrounding the device lit up from within. A faint smell of ozone wafted by Derran's nose as various clicks and whirs sounded. As the Doctor fiddled a bit more with the brass knobs on the device, the static slowly pulsed and changed, gradually molding itself into a recognizable voice. As the blank monitor in the center, displayed a wobbling line that pulsed with every word.

"Greetings new user. I am VEGA, the artificial intelligence designed by Doctor Samuel Hayden, to assist in running the UAC facility on Mars. . . I appear to have been cut off from my normal system sensors, please contact a Level 4 maintenance technician to assist. I also recommend-"

"VEGA. . ." Derran's voice was met with a sudden silence from the console.

"Apologies, but your voice print does not appear in what I can access from my data banks. This would imply your access to me is unauthorized." Derran took a deep breath.

"You have never heard my voice, but I assure you I am well known to you. I am Derran Grandel, the Doom Slayer." VEGA again paused.

"The system I am currently plugged into is not advanced enough to allow me to access most of my stored data. Though I am able to access general information regarding the subject known as the 'Doom Slayer'. However, if we are acquainted, I am unable to access those memory files. The nonstandard system I am running through is only barely enough for my full personality program, and a few minor subsystems. I apologize, but I do not remember you." Derran felt a slight pain in his chest at those words.

"I. . . understand." Derran replied heavily. "Regardless. . . I am. . . glad, to hear your voice again." Once more VEGA was silent for a few seconds.

"You seem distressed at my diminished functionality. . . did we have some form of emotional connection?" He asked. Derran nodded, before recalling that VEGA couldn't see the gesture.

"I suppose we did. We were. . . 'friends', for lack of a better word. You assisted me in defeating the greatest enemy ever known to mortal life. Your guidance helped me stop Hell from invading your world and causing untold devastation. You even sacrificed your body, and nearly your life, to see my task complete." VEGA yet again, took a moment to respond.

"I have only rudimentary access to the relevant data. However. . . that. . . seems. . . accurate. . ." As VEGA's voice faded amid a growing hiss of static, a loud pop was heard, and an acrid smell of burnt metal filled the room. VEGA's voice halted completely, and the screen of the monitor abruptly went dead.

"Oh dash it all! I thought we fixed the overheating problem!" The Doctor cried out, rushing to the machine and examining something at the back that the other two occupants couldn't see. Twilight had a brief urge to assist the Doctor, but the desire vanished when she caught sight of Derran. His expression was impassive, yet there was a note of sadness in his eyes. So well hidden, that none but a lover would have noticed, yet there all the same.

"VEGA. . .'' Derran intoned softly, as he stared blankly at the machine, unsure how to feel about their brief reunion. As the Doctor fiddled with the various wires and crystals, muttering various pseudo-swears under his breath, Twilight moved to Derran's side, touching his hand with a hoof.

"Derran. . . are you ok?" She asked, her voice filled with sympathy. Derran let out a breath he had only a vague recollection of holding.

"I. . . yes my Lady. I suppose I just. . . it. . . I am uncertain what I should feel. I am grateful for VEGA's survival, yet. . . I also worry what might come of it. Not to mention his diminished state is. . ." Derran hesitated, uncertain how to complete his thought.

"Painful?" Twilight offered. Derran sighed.

"I suppose that is as good a word as any, even if it feels a grievous oversimplification. As I said, I am uncertain how I should feel about this." As he spoke, Derran stared at the inert machine with a blank expression, his emotions an indistinct haze within his mind. Twilight nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry, we eventually hope to give him full access to his memories, but it's an incredibly complex system. That cartridge contains more data than every book in every library in all of Equestria. It's honestly a miracle we were able to get this far, given how little we had to start with." Derran nodded.

"How did you even retrieve it? I was under the impression it was in the extradimensional armory anchored to the praetor suit. I wasn't even aware it could be accessed without me wearing it?" Twilight at that moment gave a slightly sheepish smile.

"Well. . . it kinda wasn't expected. We were conducting some preliminary tests on the armor, and we ran some low level magical energy through it, and well. . . it sort of just, popped into existence right there." Derran looked down at Twilight with a disapproving frown.

"And you didn't think it prudent to alert me? With respect my Lady, that was extremely reckless. What would you have done if it was something less benign?"

"Well, we were going to tell you, but Starlight's been helping us out on occasion. She saw the cartridge, recognized it, and explained what it was. So we figured it was safe to study. Besides, you already told me all about VEGA, I didn't think he was a threat?" Derran pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to feel exasperated.

"My Lady, what I know for certain about VEGA could be written on a single hair of your mane and still leave room for a schoolfilly rhyme about the importance of proper hoof washing! Regardless of anything, he is still an AI created by a delusional madman. There is no guarantee he wouldn't attempt to do you harm!" Twilight's ears flattened against her head, wincing at Derran's suddenly harsh tone.

"I. . . I'm sorry. I just. . . I just wanted to reunite you with your friend." Twilight stated quietly. Instantly, Derran felt his irritation vanish. He hadn't meant to come down on her quite so hard.

"I understand my Lady. Please forgive me, my tone was uncalled for, and I am grateful beyond measure that you would seek to grant me such kindness. However, what matters to me most, is your and the Doctor's safety. VEGA may not be a villain, but he is an unknown. What's more, we have no idea what sort of fail-safes Hayden might have hidden in VEGA'S programing to protect his secrets." Derran let out a sigh. "I'm not going to stop you attempting to resurrect VEGA, but I do want you to keep me in the loop, and to be careful when speaking to him. Can you promise me that?" Twilight nodded.

"I promise. You're right, this tech is too advanced to rush into anything. And you're also right that we don't know enough about VEGA to say for sure he's a friend. I'm sorry, in the future we'll be more careful." She agreed, her tone serious. Derran nodded, only to see Twilight start chewing on her lower lip.

"Something else my lady?" He asked softly. "You usually only chew your lip like that when you are thinking about a problem that particularly concerns you." Twilight let out a sigh as she nodded.

"Actually. . . there is something else I. . . we should tell you." Twilight took a deep breath, before slowly letting it out. "Doctor?!" She called out. Instantly the Doctor looked out from behind the VEGA console, his mane sparking with static cling.

"Yes, what can I help you with?" He asked uncertainly, clearly noticing Twilight's grave tone.

"We need to show Derran what's in the safe." She stated simply. Instantly, the Doctor's expression became somber.

"Are you sure?" Twilight nodded, and the Doctor came out from behind the half repaired VEGA machine. Motioning to Derran and Twilight, he guided them to a section of the lab floor covered in a tattered drop cloth. Instantly, a look of faint suspicion appeared on Derran's face.

"Care to tell me what this is all about?" He asked, trying not to sound accusing. The Doctor let out a sigh, as he pulled aside the drop cloth. To reveal a section of what, to most creatures, would seem an unremarkable section of concrete flooring. Derran however, couldn't help but note the almost invisible lines cut into the concrete, forming a square.

"Well. . . truth be told, VEGA wasn't the only thing to appear from your armor." The Doctor explained. Derran arched an eyebrow, but said nothing as the Doctor continued. "Some of your weapons also appeared, and while we were examining them, we thought up some. . . improvements." Continuing to stay silent, Derran ignored a faint flare of anger in his breast, as the Doctor pressed his hoof to a cleverly hidden button. With a grinding sound, the cut square descended a few inches into the floor before sliding to the side. Revealing the door of a combination safe recessed into the ground.

"I know you didn't want us making weapons, so we haven't actually built anything as of yet. However, we did draw up a few blueprints. Derran felt his fists unconsciously clench as he glanced at Twilight. Who had the courtesy to look slightly ashamed, as Doctor Whooves entered the combination. The safe opened with the hiss of a breaking pressure seal, as the Doctor reached in and carefully extracted several rolled up pieces of paper. Hoofing them to Derran with a smile. That swiftly died, when he saw Derran's stony gaze.

Taking the blueprints, Derran proceeded to a nearby table, unrolling them with a carefully controlled expression. To his relief, they apparently were not designs for new weapons, or at least, not directly. What they appeared to be, were ideas for upgrades to his current weaponry and armor. There were a few notes suggesting that Twilight and the Doctor had ideas for new weapons. But appeared never to have written about them in anything other than vague generalities. In fact, there really was only one weapon that was described in any detail, and even then, only the workings of the upgrade had any real specifics.

"The 'Meat Hook'?" Derran inquired, as he looked over one design. Glancing at Twilight with a questioningly raised eyebrow. Twilight shrugged sheepishly.

"It seemed appropriate at the time?" She offered, still clearly waiting for Derran's general reaction. After another moment, Derran decided to end their suspense, giving an exasperated sigh.

"I should be much angrier at you both." He stated slowly. "This is at least against the spirit of our agreement, if not the letter." At that, Twilight hung her head, and Doctor Whooves expression became one of shame. "However. . ." Derran continued, causing both of them to perk up. "You were honest in showing these designs to me now, as opposed to later, and I can't deny that these upgrades would be useful. So as long as you give me your word that these blueprints will never be shown to anyone outside this lab. . . you may continue to work on them." Both Twilight and the Doctor let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Derran." Twilight declared. "And don't worry, this research is strictly to upgrade your armor and weapons." The Doctor instantly nodded his agreement.

"Indeed. I shudder to think of the havoc these tools of war could inflict if mass produced here in Equestria. Rest assured, that will never be allowed to happen so long as I have breath in my lungs." He declared, his tone solemn and sincere. Slowly, Derran nodded as he turned away from the table.

"Very well then. . ."

Derran and Twilight walked together in silence, each caught up in their own ponderings. After leaving the Doctor's house, Twilight had suggested they go to the location of the other major project she had been working on. Heading through Ponyville again, they now both responded to the hellos of the townsponies with a degree of absentmindedness. Each consumed by the thoughts running through their heads.

The interaction, however brief, with VEGA and the Doctor, had once more brought innumerable worries, old and new, to the forefront of Derran's mind. The fires of his fears at the consequences of the ponies' idolization of him, had just been given another shoveling of fuel. Igniting fresh concerns, atop the blazing embers of those from before. Already, he was having second thoughts about giving his blessings to Twilight and the Doctor's research. While the proposed improvements of his gear would undoubtedly be useful in the execution of his duties as Guardian of Equestria. Derran couldn't help but feel a gnawing sense of dread at the idea of such improvements coming at the hooves of ponies.

That such peaceful beings as Twilight and the Doctor could even conceive of such designs as they had, was troubling in the extreme. True, they had only wanted to help, and clearly understood the dangers of what they were proposing, but even so, it was a terrible risk. How many weapon designers touted their accomplishments as ways to ensure peace, only to eventually become the merchants of death who profited off of war? How many scientists had sought to bring newly discovered wonders to the world, only for the world to turn around and use them to pillage and slaughter? After all, as a wise man once said: the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

Derran couldn't bare the thought of his beloved Twilight, or any of his dear friends, falling from grace just because he thought a new toy would be useful. Yet at the same time, he couldn't just discard the offer of such tools. Even if their capabilities for destruction had been crippled, Hell was still a threat. Still had the power to end worlds. The Crucible and the energy from the Well of Souls weren't the method by which Hell invaded and consumed planets, they just made the process quicker and harder to stop. Turning a days to weeks long ritual, into an automated process that took at most a day or so.

Granted, without true leadership, and still reeling from the death of the last Lord of Hell, the demons were unlikely to show up anytime soon. However, that was arguably one of Hell's greatest assets. They didn't need to show up today, or tomorrow, or even in a thousand years. The demons could easily wait until caution had been cast aside, and tales of their evil had long since faded into rumor and myth. They could wait until a world's guard was down, and then strike with all the fury of armageddon. And they would not be idle in their biding, they would design new spells and tools, breed new demons, create new horrors. If Derran was to be prepared to face them again someday, he must do the same with new weapons and technology.

Yet still, there was no guarantee Hell would even find them. Was the potential cost of the future war, worth the risk to the peaceful present? And even if not, was Twilight not capable of handling the risks? Who was he to doubt the moral durability of the Seraphim? Twilight was an eager researcher, and at times a bit overzealous in her studies, but she was no warmonger, nor was she a fool. The same could be said of the good Doctor. Yet still. . . the dread remained.

"Derran. . ." The sound of his name brought Derran out of his bleak musings with a start.

"Yes my Lady?" He asked, trying and failing, to adopt an upbeat tone. Twilight glanced up at him with an expression of concern.

"Are you. . . afraid?" Instantly, Derran stopped dead in the middle of the road. A thousand potential responses and counter questions whirling through his head in an instant.

"I. . . beg pardon?" He asked. Confusion casting any other response into the ether of his mind. Twilight just continued to look up at him with a worried, if loving, expression.

"It's just. . ." Twilight paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "when you were looking at our blueprints, and when you were talking to VEGA, you had this. . . look." Derran's expression became oddly neutral, as Twilight continued. "It was like you. . . like you were afraid and angry at the same time, but were trying to hide it." Derran turned away from Twilight's gaze.

"I. . ." He tried to respond, only to find his usual eloquence had deserted him. Twilight, undeterred, took a step closer, before getting on her hind legs, raising her hoof, and placing it on Derran's cheek. Gently, she turned his head back so their gazes met once more. His expression betrayed nothing, but Twilight continued on, determined.

"Sometimes I see you with that same look when you come back from Canterlot, or whenever anypony addresses you formally. I wasn't really sure until today, not until I saw you looking at the designs we came up with." Derran tried to turn his head away again, but he couldn't bring himself to push Twilight's hoof aside. "You looked angry at first, and then, for just an instant, it was like you were terrified of something." Derran let out a heavy sigh. This wasn't really how he wanted to broach this subject.

"I suppose it was a fool's errand to think I could avoid this conversation forever." He stated, resignedly. "I'm not sure 'fear' is precisely the word, but I suppose it fits well enough." Returning to all fours, Twilight watched, as Derran collected his thoughts. "In my world, and among humans in general, there were many who venerated the power of violence. To some, it was the world's great cure-all." Derran let out another sigh, as Twilight patiently watched him. "This did not happen in a vacuum of course. Every child on D'nur grew up hearing stories of great warriors and mages battling for king and country. Growing up wishing to participate in glorious battle." Derran practically spat, at the words 'glorious battle' as he continued speaking. "And of course, many's the politician who advocated conquest or battle as a method of solving their country's ills." Here, Twilight gave a small smile.

"I take it you speak from personal experience in one of those areas?" Derran nodded, but his expression was grim.

"I do. As I told you when we met, I ran away from home, partially motivated by the delusion of being a hero in war. Only later to learn that the stories conveniently failed to mention that there is precious little heroism to be found in slaughtering your fellow man." Shaking his head, Derran looked faintly wistful. "Our philosophers often referred to such things as the 'human condition'. A dark cycle within our psyche, pushing us constantly from the path of civilization, and onto the path of savagery." Twilight nodded, instantly seeing the connection.

"And you're worried that this so-called human condition, might not just be restricted to humans?" She asked softly. Derran nodded.

"You've seen what I can do at my worst, my Lady. The thought that I might give the tools and inspiration to see that reflected in the creatures of this world. . . that is what frightens me." Nodding her head, Twilight considered what Derran had said. For several minutes, they stood there, Twilight pondering, one hoof on her chin as she glanced at the ground with an expression of concentration. Derran, silent and still as a statue, waiting for her response. Finally, abruptly, she broke the silence.

"Come with me." Twilight commanded, turning on her back hoof and walking away. Confused, but also intrigued, Derran followed. Curiously, they had not altered course, still heading toward their original destination. Ahead, a small hill obscured the view of what lay ahead. Not that Derran didn't already know. He failed to see what bearing the future location of Twilight's biggest project to date had to do with anything, but kept silent as they approached. Only for Twilight to suddenly stop just before they would have crested the hill.

"My Lady?" Derran inquired curiously. Twilight just smiled.

"Close your eyes." She stated calmly. Derran arched an eyebrow at the strange request.

"May I ask why?" Twilight just shook her head with a mysterious smile.

"You'll see." She stated simply. Giving a small sigh, Derran nodded, as he tightly shut his eyes. "Don't open them till I tell you. And no peeking!" Despite himself, Derran chuckled, as they continued moving again.

"Very well." He stated calmly, as he felt them begin to ascend the incline. Derran, having many times needed to fight in conditions of near or total blindness, managed the change without even a pause in his stride. For a minute or so, the pair traveled in silence. Until finally, the incline leveled off.

"Ok, now, open your eyes, and tell me what you see." Twilight instructed. Doing as he was bidden, Derran slowly opened his eyes. What he saw, struck him momentarily dumb with awe.

There before him, was Twilight's magnum opus: the School of Friendship. Proposed as a way to spread friendship and harmony to all corners of the globe, it was to be staffed by none other than Twilight and her friends themselves. When last Derran had seen it a little over a week ago, it had been little more than a cleared space of earth surrounded by piles of lumber and stone. Now, it was nearly complete.

Placed on a rocky outcropping, the school towered above the surrounding landscape. Before it, was a lovingly constructed pond filled with decorative stones and lily pads, over which was a stone bridge that led up to the primary entrance, embedded directly into the rock. Around the entrance, decorative waterfalls poured down in great sheets to flank the door. Above, the main classroom and dormitory wings were almost entirely finished. Covered in large windows and doors, leading out onto wide scenic balconies, and capped by a slate tile roof. Only a missing coat of paint on the walls and railings kept them from looking ready for use. Towers, for decoration and observation, sprouted from the center of the roof surrounded by scaffolding, only their tops yet to be completed. Then, behind that, Derran saw the library, auditorium, and headmare's offices, peeking out from behind the towers, covered over in tarps as their roofs also awaited completion.

The school was surrounded by what looked to be countless water features, gardens, and side entrances that were all either nearly, or wholly, finished. Even with scaffolding covering everything, and workponies crawling all over the place, it was a sight to. . . Suddenly Derran paused in his wonderment, his eyes narrowing, before suddenly opening wide. It appeared that workponies was not entirely accurate. For far more than just equestrians were hard at work on the structure.

At ground level, earth ponies, yaks, and even a buffalo or two, were working hard, cutting, sanding, and shaping the lumber and stone. Before Derran's eyes, bundles of the refined materials were flown to where they were needed by flocks of pegasai, griffons, and, shockingly, dragons. Once there, they were received by teams of unicorns and changelings, to be fitted into place, using magic by the former, and transformation into whatever the ideal creature for the job was, by the latter. Once the materials were received and distributed, yak and earth pony construction crews hammered them into place. And overseeing it all, were none other than Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Fluttershy, all wearing hardhats. Derran stared in shock at the structure, one that should have taken months to finish, in slack jawed amazement.

"How in the Light's holy name. . . ?" Derran whispered. Yet before Twilight could answer, Rainbow dash and Fluttershy sighted him, calling out to the others before winging their way over.

Hey'ya Derran. Whadd'ya think? Pretty snazzy right?" Rainbow asked proudly. Derran just nodded, struggling to understand.

"It is magnificent! But. . . how?! Last I heard, the building permits were only issued before I left last week?! It took you all months to decide on a location and design, and months more to acquire funding and materials?! How in the exalted heavens did you make so much progress in only a week?!" Fluttershy gave Derran a smile.

"Well, uh, in a way, it was because of you. Well, you and Tempest really." At that, Derran looked genuinely nonplussed.

"Me?! With respect to you Lady Fluttershy, how exactly could anything I have done, possibly allow for this?!" Turning, Derran stared at Twilight, who had an odd little smile adorning her face.

"About a month after the Storm King's defeat, Tempest went out into the wastes telling all the kingdoms he had conquered that they were free. Word filtered back to Equestria and all the neighboring lands about the war." Derran arched an eyebrow.

"And how precisely did that convince them to send aid to your project?" He asked, incredulous. Twilight shook her head as she continued.

"They saw how terrible things could get if someone like the Storm King were allowed to rise again. All the death and destruction. The fall of Hippogriffia. Derpy getting hurt."

"You turning into a one stallion apocalypse." Rainbow supplied, only to instantly shut up as Twilight fixed her with a death glare.

"The point is, everycreature realized that it might never have happened if there were better relations between all our nations. They never want it to reach the point where you feel you need to step in like that ever again. So when I approached them with the idea of a School of Friendship, they were all in." Derran stood stock still, staring at the nearly finished school as he digested the information.

"So. . . out of fear then." He declared softly, his voice sounding neither pleased nor displeased. Only for a refined voice to call out in an admonishing tone.

"Oh come now Sir Derran! Do those creatures look like they're scared of you?" Turning, Derran looked curiously at Rarity as she, Applejack and Pinkie Pie approached. Rarity gesturing at the ongoing construction with her hoof. Once again examining the assortment of workers, Derran saw several pointing excitedly in his direction. A few even giving out hearty waves. Derran hesitantly returned the waves, as he studied the expressions being thrown his way. He saw looks of excitement, awe, joy, and even one or two of longing, but to his shock, nowhere could he find the emotion of fear.

"They respect you Derran. All of their leaders have personally met you through your work in Canterlot, and all of their citizens know your story from the papers and word of mouth. They know that even at your worst, your goal is to protect. Nocreature is happy you went on a rampage like you did, but they don't hate you for it either. Our allies are helping us build this school because they don't want conflict, not with us, or against anycreature else. They don't want another Storm King to show up and make innocents suffer, and they don't want the world to need to rely on a Doom Slayer to stop one. And the only way to make sure that won't happen, is for us all to talk to each other, learn from each other, and grow with each other. And it was you who helped them see that." Twilight explained.

For a long time, Derran considered Twilight's words as he watched the creatures working on the school. He could tell they weren't used to working with the other species around them. Conversations, based on the facial expressions Derran could make out, were uncertain. Movements were ever-so-slightly cautious. There were clear signs of hesitance to engage with each other, and occasional awkward moments. Yet, for all the caution, uncertainty, and awkwardness. . . they were trying. More than that, if the few sincerely cheerful grins and animated conversations Derran did see were any indication, they were succeeding. And if this was what could come of only a week or so of working together, how much stronger would the bonds between species become once the school was complete?

Slowly, ever so slowly, Derran felt his mouth quirk upward into a smile. Feeling as though a great weight was being lifted from his shoulders. Suddenly, it didn't seem to matter so much that the ponies in Canterlot called him 'Lord'. If they preferred that to 'Derran', did it really mean the world would end? It suddenly seemed trivial to worry that the Tournament of Dreams showed off his combat skills. He'd yet to hear of any fillies challenging each other to duels or physically bullying each other, and believe-you-me, he had been watching. It seemed besides the point that Celestia tricked him into being Regent of Equestria. He wanted to ease the burden of her day to day duties, and he was complaining just because he was getting what he asked for? Besides, he wasn't making judgement calls in her place, so what was the harm?

Now that Derran thought about it, his earlier concerns about VEGA, Twilight, and the Doctor, seemed entirely ridiculous. VEGA was trapped in a world who's tech level was only barely capable of producing a working calculator without magic. Where was he going to go even with full functionality? As to the blueprints, Twilight easily could have hidden them from him, but instead willingly revealed them to him, risking him shutting her down in favor of being honest with him. Twilight wasn't stupid, and she had earned his trust a thousand times over. Neither she, nor the Doctor, were ever going to become evil just because they got their hooves on a working plasma rifle to study.

Derran chuckled as he thought about his various fears. When had he become so paranoid? He really must be getting old. He should know better than anyone that if there was any species he should have faith in, it was the ponies of Equestria. Sure there was an occasional bad egg, but who didn't have those? Besides, even if one of them went insane and turned into the next Sombra or Nightmare Moon, they had Twilight and her friends keeping an eye on things. And if that wasn't enough, well, he was here to back them up. And once the school was finished, once the lessons of the seraphim began to spread across the world and beyond. . . there may yet come a day, when the Doom Slayer, was no more. A day when mortal sins became too few for Hell to survive, as love and harmony supplanted hate and fear, and the demons withered away. A day when the ancient promise of the seraphim, to bring peace to the multiverse, was fulfilled, and the swords of warriors crumbled into dust from disuse. . . Turning to look at Twilight, Derran felt the smile on his face grow ever wider.

"A moment ago, when I opened my eyes, you asked me what I saw. . ." Turning back to the yet unfinished school, Derran felt a sense of profound peace come over him. Deep within him, he felt a usually tempestuous part of himself, becoming strangely still.

"I see. . . hope."

The world watched, as Samuel Hayden approached the podium. From nearly seven and a half billion screens, they watched, as he adjusted the position of the microphone, not knowing the gesture was pure theatrics. As Hayden was simply transmitting his voice directly to the relevant speakers and systems. They heard him, as he let out a long suffering sigh. Only a few questioning how that was possible for a being who no longer had lungs. For an instant as he appeared, cameras snapped and flashed, film crews jockeyed for position, and reporters shouted questions in a mad hubbub. Only to fall instantly silent, as Hayden raised a mechanical hand.

"My fellow citizens of planet Earth." He began, his tone modulated to sound mournful yet determined. "A little over a year ago, we experienced an unspeakable tragedy." Hayden paused for a moment to let his words sink in, before continuing. "During that tragedy, thousands of UAC technicians, scientists, and researchers, perished at the hands of a visitor from another world. Someone whom for months we had thought we could trust." Again Hayden paused, giving a slight shake of his head. "When he first came to us through the prototype portal, I was overjoyed. Making contact with life from another reality? It was a moment every scientist dreams of. Proving not merely the existence of other realities, but that we are not alone in seeking answers among the stars." Hanging his head, Hayden allowed one of the mechanical hands gripping the podium to curl into a fist. Carefully ensuring the gesture would seem unconscious. "Because of that, my elation blinded me. I let my guard down and welcomed our visitor with open arms. Never thinking twice about what ulterior motives he might have. And because of that single moment of naivete, thousands of people who trusted me to keep them safe. . . perished." Hardening his tone, Hayden straightened to look directly into the camera, the movement perfectly conveying a sense of anger and determination, despite both lacking a face, and feeling neither emotion.

"Rest assured, I will not make that mistake again." He declared, his voice sounding controlled, but with enough of a hint of anger to make his listeners think he was as upset as they were. "In a few hours, myself, and a small contingent of the finest soldiers the world has to offer, equipped with the most advanced weaponry the UAC can provide, will set out to pursue the Doom Slayer." Here Hayden gestured to one side, as a group of five men, covered head to toe in high tech body armor and equipped with gauss cannons and plasma rifles, marched onto the stage next to him. "We will give the Doom Slayer, and-or whomever he was acting on behalf of, one chance to explain themselves." Hayden declared, holding up a single mechanical digit to the cameras. "One chance, to return the Crucible, face justice for the lives taken, and avert war." Here Hayden was interrupted by a small ripple of shouts and cheers, that he quieted again with a gesture. "Do not misunderstand my intent." He stated, altering his tone to sound grave.

"It is my fervent hope that we will find that the Doom Slayer was acting alone. We know very little of his world, and we must consider the possibility that what he did tell us was a lie. We are preparing for war, yes, but I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to avoid it." Murmurs of agreement floated up from the crowd, as Hayden adapted his posture to look weary. "What is at stake, is nothing less than the survival of mankind. Without argent energy, human society will collapse. We cannot allow that to happen." Once more Hayden's posture straightened to evoke grim determination. "I will never seek war, but neither will I stand for my species to be threatened! I swear to you, humanity will prevail, no matter the cost, no matter the hardship, we will get back the Crucible! We will SAVE HUMANITY!" Across the world, thunderous cheers and enthusiastic applause greeted the end of Hayden's speech. Even the reporters, who were used to such political theater, could not hold back their cheers.

It wasn't the speech per-say that brought billions across the world to cry out in joy. It was the idea that despite all of their differences, all the people of the world, for that single glorious moment, were united in their purpose. If this did indeed become a battle, it would not be waged for politics or wealth, or any of the myriad gods of the world. It would not be a war dominated by gray, where at times hero and villain were impossible to tell apart, on the rare occasion they existed at all. No. For once. . . all of mankind would be fighting for something totally pure: the survival of their species. Their very right, to exist.

Not that for even a moment any of them truly believed it would come to that. After all, Samuel Hayden himself was going personally. If there was even the slightest chance of a peaceful resolution to this conflict, Hayden was the man to find it. After all, this was the man who had always worked for the benefit of mankind. Hayden could have chosen to charge top dollar for argent energy, or favored only certain nations over others when it came to distribution. Instead, he shared it with the world, and only charged what each country could afford, even if that was nothing. He had lifted entire third world nations from poverty, through carefully designed social programs and economic investment. He erased entire categories of diseases from existence, simply by offering top notch medical gear at cost. He had made hunger a thing of the past, via automated food production and distribution, that made food cheap enough, and abundant enough, for all to share it. He even was beginning the construction of massive atmospheric scrubber towers that would eventually undo the effects of climate change. Never in mankind's history had there been a being as wise or as noble as Samuel Hayden. And to the billions of men, women and children cheering his words, as long as he was in charge, there was hope. . .

False Idols

"Some people would rather take a bullet, than take a compliment."

-D'nurian philosopher.

Derran wove his way through the hustle and bustle of the Canterlot market crowd with ease. At every turn, ponies would step aside and give a bow or polite greeting. A tip of the hat here, an inclined head there, and nearly always punctuated with that hated greeting of: 'my Lord'. Derran of course, returned the bows and polite greetings with a gentle smile and a friendly wave, but inside, a smoldering ember of anger burned in his chest. He loved Equestria and its ponies with every facet of his heart and soul. He loved that they were so accepting of him, and graciously treated him as one of their own. But he hated their deference to him. The kowtowing and formality, the awe, and acting as if he was owed respect, he despised it.

At first it hadn't bothered him, and he did an excellent job of hiding it when it did. However, as time wore on, it had become harder and harder for Derran to ignore his true feelings, doubly so when not in the presence of his beloveds. Now, it was as if there was a burning canker on his heart, one that stung ever more acutely with every bent neck and wide eyed stare. It was at least less than the fanfare given to Celestia and Luna, but it was still far in excess of a friendly nod or wave. And since his earlier bout of self reflection on the plaza bench earlier, Derran found his patience with it all, running far thinner than ever before. At this moment, all Derran wanted to do was finish his shopping, check in with Celestia, and then spend the rest of the day completing paperwork, far out of sight and mind of anypony. With that desire firmly in mind, Derran hurried to his destination.

The Canterlot market district was a place of color and wonder. Composed of a massively oversized thoroughfare with no sidewalks, it was best described as: a perfectly organized mess. Lined with colorful shops, and filled with rows of freestanding produce stands and kiosks. The best food and ingredients from across Equestria and beyond could be found here. Cherries from Dodge Junction, lettuce from Mustangia, Apples from Appleoosa, and many more. There were stands featuring exotic spices from Saddle Arabia and Yakyakistan, flowers from the Changeling Kingdom, and even grains and breads from Griffonstone, which had recently rediscovered its culinary roots, thanks to its new, if somewhat reluctant, queen; Gilda the First. The shop signs and stand awnings were all done in vibrant colors, designed to catch the eyes of potential customers, and the air was filled with the sound of salescreatures calling out advertisements for their wares. The entire market was a gorgeous riot of colors and sounds, as well as mouthwatering smells of fresh baked bread, pastries, and spices. Which made it all the more surprising when Derran headed to a small shop, built slightly back from the street, between two hulking structures of yellow stucco. The unobtrusive building was labeled with a rather drab sign, proclaiming it: 'The Feed Cart' in blocky, faded red lettering.

Derran ducked his head slightly as he entered the shop, a bell attached to the door announcing his arrival with an energetic ring. The Feed Cart was a fair bit smaller than most of the shops in the market district, and in truth, had little in the way of produce or staples in it. Instead, the store mostly feature large shelves displaying bags and boxes of energy bars, granola, and odd, but surprisingly tasty, candies, made out of things like seaweed or ginger. There were also various exotic teas and sodas, as well as a selection of spiced juices in glass bottles. All in all, it was a store that catered more to connoisseurs and health nuts, than the average pony shopping for groceries, but it also provided a number of useful services for those in the know.

"Well stars above, if it ain't the king of the world." Came a warm voice, no less friendly for its teasing tone. "How's it going Mr. Grandel?" From behind a counter placed in front of the back wall of the store, the proprietor, Rosy Saltfield, greeted Derran with a wide smile. With a bone white mane and slate gray coat and wings, Rosy could almost have passed for a ghost, if not for her brilliant fuchsia eyes, and cutie mark featuring a small colorful spice rack.

"It goes well enough I suppose Lady Saltfield, thank you for asking. Anything extraordinary happen since we last spoke?" The nearly monochrome pegusus just snorted.

"Not unless you count selling candy to some fillies, and giving directions to some lost Fillydelphia tourists, as newsworthy." She declared, in a slightly annoyed tone. Derran simply chuckled. Rosy often complained of how boring minding the shop was. Often declaring she would run away from it in a heartbeat, if not for the fact that the store was all she had left of her family. Both her parents having passed away some years ago due to a rare illness.

"I suppose I wouldn't." Derran replied. Rosy let out a frustrated sigh.

"Auuugghh!! I wish I could just ditch this place and have an adventure for once!" She declared. "Or at least that something exciting would happen!" Derran just shook his head.

"Am I to assume then, that an unleashed spirit of chaos, a changeling invasion, and an attack by a magic devouring megalomaniacal centaur, do not qualify as 'something exciting'?" He inquired with a smile and a raised eyebrow. Rosy just sighed even harder.

"Would you believe I was out of town on business all three times?! And I never saw any of what happened six months ago because I was minding the shop! It was over before I even got there! Talk about rotten luck!" Derran frowned, as he shook his head.

"With respect my Lady, in my experience, excitement of that kind, is vastly overrated." Rosy, recalling what she knew of Derran's life, adopted an apologetic tone.

"I'm sorry, I know you're right. . . I don't really want anything life threatening to happen. Just something new and interesting to spice things up. Ya know?" Derran nodded.

"I may be over a millennia old, but I still recall what it was like to be young." He replied sympathetically. Rosy just chuckled.

"Said the immortal stallion who doesn't look a day over twenty five." Derran couldn't help but smile at that, as Rosy affected a more businesslike air. "Anyway, I managed to track down all the spices and other things on your list. I was actually surprised, not many ponies even know the difference between sweet paprika and hot paprika." Derran gave a soft laugh.

"My Ladies have become mildly obsessed with a dish called 'paprika hendl', from my world. The original recipe called for chicken, but I substituted with tempeh and unripened jackfruit. Hot paprika is a must for the dish to work." Rosy just smiled at that, before going behind the counter and pulling up a pair of large cloth grocery bags. One of the primary reasons Derran shopped here was that, for a small fee, and if she took a liking to you, Rosy could get absolutely everything anycreature needed for any meal, no matter how obscure or difficult to locate, in less than an hour or two. Nopony in Canterlot knew the market like she did, nor was as good at finding the best bargains. For as much as she claimed to loathe her job, she was damned good at it.

"Well, they're in the bags with the rest." She declared matter-a-factly. "That'll be fifteen bits for everything." Derran nodded, as he counted out seventeen bits.

"For allowing me to leave the rest of my shopping here, while I picked up my order from Canterlot Carousel." He explained, holding up the bag he'd come in with as he handed over the bits. Rosy just shook her head.

"I keep telling you, I don't charge for that. You keep paying ponies what they haven't earned, and you'll break the royal treasury." Derran just laughed.

"If you feel that strongly about it, you could always refuse to take them." He offered with a wry grin, that Rosy returned as she took the money.

"Hey, I already told you you didn't have too, my conscience is clear." Derran just nodded as he took the bags.

"A fair enough point I suppose. Have a lovely day Lady Saltfield." Rosy nodded, as Derran headed for the door.

"You too Mr. Grandel." She replied, as Derran headed back out onto the streets of Canterlot.

However, the instant he was outside, all of his previous thoughts on how the ponies saw him returned. Heralded by the sensation of dozens of pairs of eyes fixing on him before the door had even shut behind him. All things being equal, Derran's interaction with the good lady Saltfield had marginally improved his mood, and not just because she was the only friend he had in all of Canterlot, besides the princesses, who didn't address him as: 'my Lord'. Still, like a summer cold, his choler was oddly persistent, and had not left him completely. Were it not for the seraphic magic that rendered him nothing short of indefatigable, Derran suspected he'd be quite exhausted at this point. Still, in the end, there was little to be done, save grin and bear it.

Sighing, Derran turned to head back to the castle. Perhaps after returning, he'd try to steal lady Celestia away from her duties for a bit? The court schedule for the day was comparatively light, mostly just minor budgetary concerns and a few meetings that could easily be postponed. He was quite certain his love wouldn't object to spending a few hours in a hidden corner of the royal garden, drinking tea, stealing kisses, and dosing in each other's arms and/or hooves. If there was one thing that could banish Derran's dark thoughts, it was spending quality time with the ponies he loved. Derran smiled at the thought, the knot of anger in his chest already beginning to relax at the idea.

"LOOK OUT!!"

The shout of abject terror ripped Derran from his thoughts instantly. Dropping his bags without so much as a second thought, he ran forward by instinct alone. His head turned this way and that, attempting to discern the source of the cry, as more ponies started screaming.

Soundtrack: Black Betty by Spiderbait

"HE'S OUT OF CONTROL!!"

"EVERYPONY GET OUT OF THE WAY!!"

Beyond the cries of alarm and shouts to clear a path, Derran's finely tuned ears could make out an increasingly loud rattling sound, coming from one of the side streets leading into the market district. Jumping and dodging nimbly through the press of equines starting to flee the scene, Derran reached the center of the market, just in time to see a cart ladened with stacks of boxes and barrels, tear through a, now mercifully unoccupied, fruit stall. As smashed fruit and splintered wood were scattered across the street, Derran caught a glimpse of the terror stricken driver. Shouting and flailing his hooves, as he did his best to warn ponies out of the way.

Derran again moved without thinking, his body a blur as he took in the details of the cart, the world seeming to slow to a crawl as he did so. It was sturdy, likely made of oak, and showed little to no damage from plowing through the fruit stand. The barrels and boxes on the back were labeled as containing barley and apples, heavy items, but they had barely shifted, thanks to the expert lashings anchoring them to the back of the cart. The driver however, was unsecured, gripping his seat with one hoof in terror. The steering reins uselessly dragged in the dirt beneath the cart, while the driver frantically attempted to pull the obviously broken brake lever. Derran had his plan of attack before he'd run more than a few feet.

Hurtling through the market, Derran leapt through the supports of an abandoned vegetable stand. Tucking into a somersault to absorb the shock of his landing, before springing back to his feet without losing an inch of speed. Ponies and stalls flashed by him in streaks of color, as he ran between the rows of temporary wooden structures, weaving between pedestrians like the wind itself. As the cart crashed through another stall, this one covered with a brilliant red awning that promptly flew into the sky with a fluttering snap, Derran managed to get alongside it. Vaulting over a pile of cabbage filled boxes, as he shouted to the driver.

"TURN AROUND AND COVER THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD!!" He roared. The driver turned to glance at the biped running at his side, with a terrified expression that quite clearly was questioning his would-be rescuer's sanity. "JUST DO IT!!" Derran shouted, injecting a tone of authority born of years shouting orders in the heat of battle. "AND DO NOT HOLD ONTO THE CART! WHEN THE TIME COMES, LET YOURSELF GO!!" The driver, a brown coated and blond maned earth pony wearing a green vest, clearly didn't understand, but did as he was told. Now came the tricky part.

Putting on a burst of speed, Derran did a pirouetting dodge around a barrel of peaches as he ran ahead of the cart. Wincing, as he heard the cart in question smash through the same barrel he had just avoided, along with what was likely the stand beside it. The area was too crowded, he needed to find a. . . there! Up ahead was a place where the road was undergoing repairs, and a significant space nearly devoid of stalls, carts, or civilians, had been set up as a buffer between the area being worked on, and the rest of the market. And the out of control wagon was headed right for it. Unfortunately, there was one obstacle. A large sturdy cart, filled with fresh stacks of cobblestone. Derran did a few quick mental calculations, as he increased his speed still further. This was going to sting a bit, and the timing needed to be perfect, but it was still doable. With that thought in his head, Derran braced himself, as he ran, shoulder first, at full tilt into the cart of stone.

Derran impacted the forward wheel of the cart with enough force to shatter both it, and its twin on the other side. The forward axle snapping like a twig, as the cart pivoted away on its two remaining wheels. Not missing a beat, Derran slid to a halt on the dirt, flattened in preparation for the cobblestone to be laid down. His sandal clad feet threw up sprays of pebbles and dust, as his momentum bled away. Turning to face the oncoming cart, its driver crouched with his back to Derran, and his forehooves folded behind his head. Derran shot forward like a bullet from a rifle. Letting out a breath, Derran felt as if the world once again was slowed around him, as he rushed toward the cart.

This plan was extremely risky, and one wrong move would likely kill the driver. Derran banished the thought. In his mind, he suddenly saw Celestia, Luna, and Twilight's smiling faces, looking down upon him with love and trust in their eyes. In that moment, Derran felt his doubt vanish, his resolve becoming like tempered steel. Failure was an unacceptable outcome for a servant of the Seraphim. Therefore. . . it would not be permitted. With that thought firmly fixed in his mind, Derran jumped into the air.

Twisting his body, Derran struck the out of control cart feet first, facing upward, with his body perpendicular to the ground, and his knees bent ever so slightly. As his feet impacted the front of the cart, Derran tensed his legs as he bent them. Muscles like corded steel, compressed like living springs, absorbing as much of the cart's momentum as possible, before snapping taught. Pushing against the cart with all of his mystically enhanced might, the front of the wagon cracked, its inertia torn away in an instant, but it held together. With a juddering clatter, the cart rolled back the way it came, as Derran and the driver were sent hurtling through the air in the opposite direction. Reaching up in mid air, Derran wrapped his arms around the stallion above him, pulling him tight to his chest, an instant before they hit the ground. Letting out a faint grunt of discomfort, Derran crashed onto the graded earth. Sliding along the ground with the driver for nearly fifteen feet. Before crashing into a wall of stacked bags, containing the ground stone used to pour between the cobblestones after placement. The bags burst instantly from the bone shattering impact, in an explosion of gray dust.

The cart, now robbed of nearly all momentum, rattled to a stop against the wooden supports of an abandoned spice stand. A minute or two later, a crowd of ponies, their expressions of fearful concern, gathered around the thick cloud, marking where Derran and the cart driver had finally stopped. Murmurs of worry filled the air, with a few ponies shouting for somepony to call an ambulance. Then, as the dust began to settle, a series of hacking coughs were heard, as the driver stumbled out of the cloud, his brown coat and blond mane turned completely gray by the dust. Sitting down heavily on the unpaved road, he wiped the grime from his eyes with one hoof, as ponies crowded around him to see if he was alright.

"Wait! Where's the king?!" Asked a slightly frantic voice from the crowd, as the scream of a medical wagon's siren echoed in the distance. A murmur of worry rippled through the crowd. Then, as if in answer to their concern, a light breeze blew aside what was left of the rapidly settling dust, to reveal Derran Grandel rising to his feet. Covered in chalky powder from the burst bags of stone, and with the dust clouds swirling around him, he looked like a terrible phantom of myth, as he slowly rose to his full height amid the grayish miasma. Gasps of disbelief, turned almost instantly to sounds of awe, as Derran strode through the thinning dust, toward the seated stallion he had rescued.

"Were you injured?" He inquired, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that, between the powdered stone and several faintly bleeding cuts on his chin and cheek, he looked more beat up than the driver. The Driver, simply stared at Derran, with a wide eyed look of awed reverence.

"I thought. . . I thought I was dead!" He exclaimed, his voice a disbelieving whisper. "But then. . . you came. . . ." He trailed off as he prostrated himself before Derran. "Thank you my Lord! Thank you so much! I'm Radish Greens, and I'm forever in your debt!!" He declared, his tone filled with a worshipful zeal. "Long live the Uncrowned King!" Instantly, Derran's face went from an expression of concern, to one of disbelief and horror, as around him ponies cheered.

"That was amazing my Lord!!" Said one voice.

"Three cheers for our hero!" Shouted another.

"Long live the Uncrowned King!!" Echoed a third. As others took up the call.

"Long live the Uncrowned King! LONG LIVE THE UNCROWNED KING!! LONG LIVE THE-."

"ENOUGH!!" Derran's roar of rage was more than loud enough to immediately silence the crowd. Setting the ears of anycreature nearby ringing. "END THIS BLINDLY PLACED OBSEQUIOUSNESS AT ONCE!!" He thundered, instantly cowing the ponies surrounding him, as ears flattened against heads, and looks of joy became ones of terror. There was a lengthy pause, as Derran glared down at the crowd, his face twisted in a mix of disgust and anger. Then. . . a timid voice spoke up.

"We. . . we were just trying to say thank you." A random mare stated hesitantly, her voice fearful, but with a faint tone of hurt. Derran however, only seemed to grow angrier. As he fixed the young mare with a glare of pure venom.

"AND WOULD YOU THANK A HAMMER FOR BUILDING YOUR HOME?! PERHAPS A QUILL FOR WRITING A NOVEL?!! A FORK FOR PREPARING YOUR MEALS?!!!" He shouted, his vision edged with red, as his eyes flickered between blue and crimson. "I AM NOT A HERO!! I AM A TOOL! A WEAPON!! THAT I ACT INDEPENDENT OF THOSE WHO WIELD ME IS IRRELEVANT TO THE FACT THAT I AM BUT AN EXTENSION OF THEIR WILL!! IT WAS THE SERAPHIM WHO MADE ME!! IT IS THEY WHO COMMAND ME!! AND IT IS THEY ALONE TO WHOM YOU SHOULD OFFER PRAISE!!!" Derran's fury was such that he could barely think straight, his hands clenching and unclenching as though seeking to rend and tear. It was then, that his eyes fell on a small frightened filly, who looked vaguely familiar. Despite the child's clear terror, he still spoke up, in a trembling tone of confusion.

"We. . . we're sorry. But. . . you got us ice cream earlier. . . aren't we supposed to say thank you?" The little filly asked, clearly on the verge of tears. Instantly, all of the anger in Derran's heart turned to horrified shame. His fists falling open, as his arms dangled limply by his side. Even if he was right, even if he was speaking out for the ponies' own good, there was no excuse whatsoever for directing such an outburst at a child. Derran felt his heart turn to lead, as his wrathful rebuke became bitter ashes in his mouth.

"I. . . no, little one. . . you should always offer gratitude for a kindness bestowed. I simply. . . ." Here, Derran trailed off, as he looked at the confused, sad, and frightened faces around him. "No. . . I will not make excuses." He declared firmly, as he addressed the crowd with a tone of remorse. "Forgive me, my friends. Regardless of my reasons, my words just now, irrespective of their truth, were unworthy and disrespectful, tainted by misdirected and unearned malice." Here Derran bent forward in a sorrowful bow. "I offer my deepest apologies to you all." So saying, Derran raised his head and turned to look, with a sad, but grateful, smile, at the now faintly grinning filly. "And I must apologize in particular to you, young filly, I was honored to be able to make you and your class smile." Directing his gaze to the driver he had rescued, Derran once again inclined his head with a remorseful expression. "And to you Lord Greens. I am grateful to have been able to assist you." Straightening up, Derran once more addressed the crowd as a whole. "Whatever deeds and kindnesses I perform for you all, is not only because it is my sworn duty, but also because you are all my cherished friends and neighbors. I only ask you to remember, that I am only able to perform them, thanks to the grace of their divine majesties, the Seraphim." Here he bowed again. "Once again, I offer my heartfelt apologies, and vow to do better in the future." For a moment, there was silence, and then the ground shook, as the crowd of smiling ponies stamped their feet in applause.

Yet, even as he gratefully smiled and bowed, Derran could not help but feel, in the pits of his soul, that the apology he offered, was a mistake. . . .