Sunset awoke to the smell of food being cooked. She quickly woke herself up, then took a shower, washed up, got dressed, and headed downstairs.

I wonder what Mom's cooking, she thought to herself. It doesn't smell like anything she's cooked before. Maybe it's something new?

But when she entered the kitchen, she was met with a surprise.

Instead of her mother cooking at the stove or waiting for the oven, Prince Skipting Lunam stood in the kitchen. But the kitchen didn't look anything like their kitchen. It looked like something you might find in a fantasy creation, a Medieval or Norse kitchen.

The young Prince stood next to a large fireplace. He waited for a few moments, then used a wooden plate on a stick to lift a medium ceramic plate. On the plate were several lumps of what was probably dough. Once the plate was on a stone counter, the Prince finally looked at Sunset, then smiled.

"Ah, good morning, Sunset. Did you sleep well?" he greeted warmly.

She nodded.

"I did. What about you?"

"I slept well, thank you for asking."

She looked at the dough, then at her guest.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well, since you and your mother have so graciously allowed me to live with you in your home, and you have been doing kind things for me, I thought I would return the favor," he replied. "That is why I am making breakfast for you."

With a kind request from the young Prince, Sunset went back upstairs to wake her mother and aunt up, then came back downstairs to sit down at the dining table. A few minutes later, Skipting came out with plates, which he set down in front of the three women.

"I have made a meal consisting of small cereal cookies made of barley flour, milk and salt, apple porridge, and elderberry soup with apples, all traditional Norse dishes from my homeland," he said, before sitting down himself.

Celestia, Luna, and Sunset picked up their utensils and tasted each item. Their eyes widened, and they both let out soft moans of delight.

"This is delicious, Skipting," Celestia said. "How did you make all of this?"

"I used some of my chaos magic to temporarily change your kitchen into one from my world and culture, so I could make the dishes in the way my people do," Skipting replied. "The spell does not interfere with the design or structure of your home, or anything else. It essentially acts as a sort of interactive illusion, if you will, allowing me to use the conjured kitchen as though it were actually real."

"Well, thank you for this meal, Skipting," Luna said.

"You are very much welcome."

Skipting Lunam's mind was currently wandering, mainly focusing on Anon-A-Miss, as he walked down the streets of Canterlot. Sunset had decided to stay home and invite her friends over to hang out, while the young Prince had decided to take a walk.

There has to be something I can use to help me find out who it is, he thought to himself. Perhaps making connections with Equestria will give me something to work with. Think. There are many similarities between this word and Equestria. Everyone has a counterpart. Some people lead similar lives as their counterparts. But there are also differences. Some people who are alive in this world may be deceased in Equestria, and vice versa.

Wait…

… Wasn't there some sort of incident similar to Anon-A-Miss that happened back home?

The thought surprised him. Yes, something similar had happened back home, several years ago.

Ponyville, August 21, 1864. The town's local newspaper, The Foal Free Press, puts out a gossip column created by three young members of the newspaper, under the name, "Gabby Gums." Gabby Gums is eventually revealed to be Apple Bloom Farfield, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, the younger sisters and honorary younger sister of Jacqueline Applejack Farfield, Rarity Vanessa Belle-Lunam, and Rainbow Miriam Dash.

"Sanarath’s leg hairs," Skipting murmured quietly. "I can't believe I didn't make the connection until now. The answer was so obvious, yet I was so blind."

His train of thought was broken by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He grabbed it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was Celestia.

"Hello?" he said after answering the call and putting the device to his ear.

"Skipting, you need to get back here. It's an emergency!" Celestia's voice said with great worry.

"What is it? What happened?" he asked.

"It's Sunset. The Diamond Dogs broke into the house and kidnapped her, right in front of the girls. The girls tried to help her, but the thugs just beat them and knocked them out, then left."

Skipting was at the house in minutes, practically smashing through the door in his rush. Vinyl, Octavia, Ditzy, Bon Bon, and Lyra all sat on the couch in the living room, all of them clearly shaken. Gilda was also in the living room, sitting on another couch with her head in her hands.

Luna and Celestia quickly noticed the Prince, gesturing for him to come close. He did so, coming to stand before the girls and the two older women.

"What happened?" he asked.

Lyra lifted her head to look at him, tears in her eyes. Her right eye already had a bruise on it.

"They came rushing into the room, just bursting through the door. They all went for Sunset and quickly knocked her out and tied her up," she explained fearfully.

"We tried to fight them off," Vinyl continued. "We tried throwing heavy things at them, using objects as weapons, and even tried rushing them at once. But they just… grabbed us and threatened to hurt or even kill us if we kept trying to interfere."

"Lyra spat in one of their faces, so the thug she spat on started beating her," Bon Bon added.

Skipting looked at Gilda, who appeared to be crying. He approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"We will get Sunset back, I promise you," he said softly.

"I'll kill them," Gilda snarled.

She lifted her head to look him in the eyes, a great and terrible rage burning in her eyes.

"I'll kill every last one of the fuckers responsible! They took my Sunshine away, and now all of them are going to suffer for it!"

"Do you have any idea where they might have taken her?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. Their hideout is in the South side of town, in the old Southern Views apartment complex," she responded.

Skipting walked upstairs to his room, opening the door, then closing it behind him. He changed out of his coat and modern clothing, and donned his normal clothes and his armor, putting his cloak on next. Then, he went over to his bed, opening the top drawer of the bedside nightstand, and grabbed his jewelry and belongings out of it.

Skipting relaxed his mind and steeled his nerves as he inspected each item. The silver ring with a ruby turned into the Shadow Spear, which he placed in its sheath on his back, the spear's pointed blade pointing towards the ceiling. The silver plate on his right shoulder transformed back into the Twilight Blade, the hilt facing upwards. He kept the Terror Praetor in its watch form, while his golden ring turned into the Formless Blade.

He placed each of his firearms in their respective holsters, then slung his two bows over his back alongside a quiver full of arrows.

Finally, he turned his second pocket watch back into the Kingusureiyā. He held the weapon in both hands, resting on his palms. His left hand clasped around the saya, and his right hand gripped the weapon's hilt, pulling it out completely. He moved the sword so that the blade was pointing towards the ceiling, the back edge facing him. He turned it to see his reflection in the gleaming metal for a few moments, then sheathed it and set it on an open space on the floor.

Skipting pulled out a black wooden box with silver hinges and a silver lock, setting it down on the bed. Pulling a key out of one of his pouches, he unlocked the box and opened it, revealing a tantō knife. He picked it up and unsheathed it, looking at his reflection in the gleaming steel and silver blade.

For a few moments, he could see twenty-five faces smiling at him as they appeared. Twenty-five faces, but of them, one stuck out.

Tanned, shining skin. Beautiful long brown hair. Two gleaming, perfect, lake-like golden eyes that shone with warmth and kindness, and love. He would never, could never, forget that face.

"I'm sorry, to all of you," he said quietly. "Lydia, it has been almost nine years since you died, since I made my promise to you. But Odysseus refuses to listen. I have been unable to speak with him ever since he swore he would kill me for what I did to you. But I can faintly feel his presence. Tonight, I will finally tell him everything. Tonight, one of us shall die."

He looked at the full body mirror. A humanoid being appeared in it. A Drákarum, or “Dragon Child.”

His body was covered in the tough scales and hide of the Drákarem, his coloring combination of black and stone gray. A long tail, lined with small arrow-like spines, and ending with a broad spearhead tip, occasionally swayed side to side.

A long, slightly curved sheath, covered in the same scales and hide as his body, was attached to his arm just above his wrist by a sort of wall of bone, flesh, and scale just below the forward-facing end of it. Two long, bony, finger-like claws jutted out of the sheath just above the small slit in it.

But that was not what made the Prince’s breath catch in his throat.

Held within the sheath, and further locked in place by the two finger-like claws bent down on either side of the hilt, the bony appendages pressed against its tsuba, was a masterfully-crafted odachi. Never would he forget that blade, the carnage it created. Carnage only outmatched by the last two years of the war. The nearly two years known as “The Wrath of the King Slayer.”

Two sets of leathery dragon wings sprouted from his back, folded down to form a sort of scaly leather coat. He wore no armor, for he did not need it, as his hide and scales were more than enough to protect him from all but the best weapons. Despite his natural, near impenetrable armor, he bore countless scars all over his body, albeit all but two of them were from a time before he received the old Storm King’s blessing.

His draconic head was protected by a combination of tough scales, bone, and hide. His razor-sharp teeth, capable of crushing precious gemstones and pulverizing stone with ease, and perfect for chomping through bones and skulls, were displayed openly in a playful grin.

His eyes, a beautiful silver, turned blood crimson for a moment, before reverting to their original colors.

"Hvíslandi… I'm sorry… If only you were still alive."

Skipting chuckled bitterly.

"You barely even got to know your daughters," he murmured.

His grip tightened on the tantō as tears began to fall from his eyes. He slammed his other hand into the wall.

"Why, Hvíslandi?! Why did you have to insist on fighting in that godforsaken war?! Why did you have to insist on leaving your family behind?!"

He steadied his breathing, trying to quell his anger. Once he had calmed himself down, he sheathed the tantō and set it on the floor next to the Kingusureiyā.

He got down into a kneeling position, folding his legs underneath his thighs, his buttocks resting on his heels, and his hands folded neatly in his lap, in a traditional seiza position. Both the tantō and the Kingusureiyā had small black gems running along their hilts. Skipting looked at the weapons and their gems for a few moments, a solemn expression in his eyes and face.

"I swear upon my honor as an Abysswalker of the Legion of the Holy Moon, I shall rescue Sunset Shimmer, and kill all who oppose me," he swore softly.

He stood up and picked up the two weapons, putting the Kingusureiyā in its place on his left hip in an Iaido sage to, with the tantō positioned just below it. With his armor donned and weapons ready, he grabbed his mask out of the middle drawer of his nightstand, then went downstairs.

"I am ready to leave," he announced.

Celestia nodded.

"Okay. I'll drive you there," she said.

She turned to Gilda.

"Gilda, I would appreciate it if you would give us directions."

They arrived at their destination at nightfall, the moon covered by clouds, shrouding the streets in darkness. Celestia had stopped the van just down the road from the Diamond Dogs' hideout.

Skipting stepped out of the vehicle, turning to Gilda, who got out as well and came to stand next to him.

"Gilda, I request that you do not accompany me inside. I will handle them myself," he said.

"No fucking way, man," she growled. "I'm coming in there with you. I want those assholes to pay. I want to deal with them myself."

He sighed.

"I… I do not wish for you to see the side of me that will be unleashed upon these criminals. What will eliminate them will not be the same man you see before you."

"Skipting, I know your counterpart," she retorted. "You two are similar and identical in so many ways. I've seen your counterpart in action, so what you're capable of couldn't be any worse than what he does."

The Prince's gaze hardened, his slitted eyes staring into Gilda's hawk-like golden eyes. The girl stepped back a bit, unnerved by the assassin's sudden harsh look. She was actually afraid of him right now, especially because of his eyes. His eyes weren't their normal colors. Instead, the irises were a terrifying, fiery orange-ish red and blood crimson. To her surprise, his teeth were bared as well, the majority of them pointed and razor sharp. A set of large, deadly fangs jutted from his upper jaw like a snake.

Skipting's mouth was open, allowing Gilda to see the inside of it. Some sort of small tube coming from the back of his throat was slightly raised and pointing outwards, dripping with an unknown green substance that hissed faintly as the drops landed on his tongue.

"We are nothing alike, Miss King," the Prince said coldly. "He has not seen the things I've seen, heard the things I've heard… done the things I've done.”

His hands clenched into fists, shaking.

"The things I've done, the path of destruction and carnage I wrought during that godforsaken war, they are regarded as one of the darkest times in Equestrian and Mongolian history. My actions have been burned into the very culture and lore of the Mongols. I have become a legend, a myth, in their land. They tell stories about me, and tell stories to their children, so Mongolia will never forget the Wrath of the King Slayer, the legend of the blade I used to slaughter their armies, and butcher their leaders."

He turned away from Gilda and began walking towards the building. He briefly glanced behind him to see Gilda climbing back into Celestia’s van.

When Skipting was about twenty feet away from the perimeter of the hideout, he used his shifting power to get up to the roof of the building.

Before exiting the vehicle, he had used his shadow magic to summon Skaði from the Realm of Shadows. The Kovoznian raven, a gift from High Lord Shadowthorne from his personal flock, was thrilled to see her master again, and gladly followed his instructions to fly around and perform reconnaissance on the building.

The building was in a straight "U" shape, with a large rectangular area between the West and East sections of the complex. Seven guards patrolled the outside, two of them armed with fully-automatic rifles, one armed with a baseball bat with nails on it, a fourth armed with a pump-action shotgun, and a fifth armed with a semi-automatic rifle. The other two guards were positioned on third-floor balconies on either side of the entrance, both armed with sniper rifles.

Skipting quickly and quietly ran to where the snipers were. Once he had positioned himself in a way that allowed him to see both snipers, he pulled out one of his bows. He looked at the weapon with a solemn expression. The legendary longbow of his late grandfather and mentor, Skuggastál. The Foe-Seeker of the One-Eyed.

He pulled two arrows from the quiver on his back, nocking them on the bowstring. Relaxing his mind, he brought the bow up and aimed at the snipers, drawing the bowstring back to the side of his face, holding the bow at an angle so the arrows were pointed at his targets.

He took a slow breath, and began to recite the poem he had created in honor of his beloved grandfather and mentor, which he had recited to the elderly man on his deathbed, as a final promise.

Odin, Allfather, guide my arrow with your far-reaching sight

Grandfather, I will make you proud, to my last breath shall I fight

When comes the day I fall valiantly in the fray,

Or peacefully surrounded by family and friends,

Valhalla calls me to your side, where we shall fight and feast each day,

Be it by steel or by arrow, my many foes shall meet their ends

Skipting took another slow, deep breath, and released the bowstring, sending the arrows flying forwards. They soared through the air like majestic birds swooping down to bring death upon their prey, until they struck their targets, the Dragon Steel arrowheads piercing the snipers' skulls, killing them instantly.

He slung the Foe-Seeker on his back and launched two tendrils of shadows from his hands to retrieve his arrows.

I’ll always be with you, Skippy. Don’t you forget that.

Skipting shook his head to clear his mind of the memory. There was no time to dwell on the past.

His eyes turned crimson, before he readied his wrist-mounted crossbows, loading them with Dragon Steel bolts. He aimed at the two guards armed with fully-automatic rifles and fired.

The bolts hit the guards' necks, causing them to silently collapse to the ground, shaking violently as blood poured from their mouths, eyes, noses, and ears like water from a fountain, sickly greenish-black foam coming out of their mouths as though they had a foreign, extreme, and rather horrifying form of rabies. Then, their flesh began to melt, exposing their bones as they silently screamed.

After about thirty seconds, only their skeletons were left, laying in pools of blood and what used to be flesh, muscle, and organs. A personal favorite of his, Gravewalker blood was effective as always.

The guard armed with a shotgun and the one with a semi-automatic rifle were quickly taken down when they came up to each other and started talking, allowing Skipting, his cyan and harlequin eyes calm and cold, to shift to a nearby lamp post and jump down on them, stabbing them in their necks with his hidden blades.

With one guard left, the assassin simply walked towards his prey, who was standing in front of the entrance. He quickly noticed the intruder.

"Hey, you! What are you doing here?" the Diamond Dog shouted. "You don't belong here! Leave now!"

Skipting ignored him, instead continuing to advance. When he was within seven feet of the Diamond Dog, he unlocked the Kingusureiyā with his thumb.

"Get the fuck out of here! Leave, or we‘ll make you!"

The Prince chuckled lightly.

"'We?'" he said. "There is no 'we.' There's only you. Your friends out here are all dead."

The criminal didn't have time to say or do anything, as Skipting gripped the Kingusureiyā's hilt and drew the weapon, slashing upwards and diagonally from the Diamond Dog's right hip to his left shoulder.

The man's body split apart, the upper half with his right arm and head sliding off of the rest of his body, both halves falling to the ground with a thud and a soft splat, blood quickly pooling and internal organs falling out.

The assassin continued to calmly and steadily walk towards the entrance even as he drew his weapon and cut the criminal in two, flicking the Kingusureiyā to remove the blood, then sheathing it, all in a fluid, practiced motion.

A black and purple energy flowed from the corpse, and connected to the sword's hilt, where it was sucked into one of the gems on it.

Sunset was confused and terrified. She didn't exactly know why the Diamond Dogs had kidnapped her, but she had a feeling it had to do with Anon-A-Miss. She didn't know where they had taken her, either. She wondered what they planned to do to her. Were they going to kill her? Keep her as some sort of sex slave? Torture her?

I really hope Skipting will be able to find me, she thought.

The door to the room she was in opened, and three members of the Diamond Dogs entered the room, closing the door behind them. Two of the gang members went to stand on either side of the doorway, while the third approached her.

This man was certainly different from the rest of the gang. For one thing, he didn't smell horrible like the others. Another thing was his outfit and appearance. The Diamond Dogs chose to wear jeans or sweatpants with sneakers or boots, various t-shirts or long-sleeved shirts, and denim vests. Some of them also wore various jackets, like hoodies, windbreakers, and denim or leather jackets. Pretty much all of them had filthy hair and gross appearances, with yellowed teeth and cracked lips, and filthy nails and hands.

But this man was the complete opposite. Instead of dirty clothing and a vest or jacket, he wore a gray three-piece suit with a white button shirt, neat dress shoes, and a red tie. Instead of dirty and shaggy hair, this man's hair was clean and neatly combed and brushed, slicked back. His face was clean and surprisingly handsome, and his fingernails were clean and short. When he exhaled through his mouth, Sunset could briefly see his perfect white teeth.

The man looked at her with soft green eyes. He stood before her, looking down at her. Sunset tried to back away, but her back was against the wall.

"Please, don't be afraid," the man said gently, his voice surprisingly smooth and soft. "I mean no harm."

Sunset looked at him with an expression of disbelief.

"Bullshit," she said. "Your thugs broke into my house and kidnapped me. When I woke up, they even said they roughed my friends up a bit, and your gang is well known for being extremely violent."

The man nodded.

"Yes, I am well aware of that," he said.

"You see, I never wanted my little organization, our family, to be like this. We were originally a kindhearted group of misfits who would gladly help out people in need. We would even organize little charity events and help with community events. Many people even called us 'Fortunate Angels,'" he informed, "because to those we helped, we were apparently like angels. We gently denied their claims of us being such things."

We were naught but loyal followers of Christ who followed His teachings, helping those in need, and treating all who came to us like neighbors, but more importantly, like family. But we were forced to be this way by a powerful crime family. We were forced to work for them, to be enforcers and hired thugs. If we didn't, or we tried to go back to our old ways, we would be killed, as we would be liabilities."

He cut Sunset's bindings and freed her from the chain restraining her, put his knife away, and helped her to her feet. Stepping back a bit, he extended a hand.

"My name is Nolan Winters," he introduced. "As you know by now, I'm the leader of the Diamond Dogs. It is a pleasure to meet you, although I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

He gestured to the two gang members standing at either side of the door. Surprisingly, these two were also the complete opposite of every other Diamond Dog. Instead, they looked and dressed like Nolan.

The one on the left had short blond hair and hazel eyes, and wore a black three-piece suit with a red tie, while the one on the right had brown hair and blue eyes, and also wore a black suit and red tie. Both of them also wore black leather gloves. The two looked identical, both to each other and Nolan, in every way but the hair and eyes.

"These are my twin brothers, Ryan and Alan," Nolan said. "Like me, they long for the Diamond Dogs to be able to return to what they were before we were forced to work for the crime family that turned our group into what it is today."

The door opened again, and a Diamond Dog entered the room, a tray in his hands. He passed Nolan and placed the tray down on a table.

"Why did you free her, Nolan?" the Diamond Dog asked in a gravelly, high pitched voice. "You know she's a she-demon."

"She isn't a threat, Rolph," Nolan answered. "I want her to have the freedom to attack me if she desires, even if she thinks she may be punished for doing so. I also want to have a civil conversation with her, rather than have her bound and helpless, feeling small and weak."

Rolph snorted.

"You're as dumb as Glen," he said. "Don't you remember what happened to him when he freed a prisoner?"

"Yes, Rolph, I remember—"

"The bitch tackled him, took his knife, and stabbed the shit out of him."

“I know, Rolph. But Miss Dusk was afraid for her life.”

Rolph slammed a hand on the table.

“Twenty-eight stab wounds!” he yelled. “That bitch was a fucking psychopath!”

“She is not a psychopath, Rolph. She merely had a rather intense and violent reaction to the drugs Glen dosed her with,” Nolan responded. “And he was lucky Miss Blaze or Miss Dazzle were not present during the incident, or else they might have beaten Glen bloody, and perhaps torture him a bit, before likely taking him to see either Misters Melody and Thorne, or Violenza.”

The thug pulled out a knife, pointing it at Sunset.

"I'm not going to let something like that happen again."

Rolph lunged at her, but she managed to roll out of the way. Ryan and Alan were on him in an instant, suppressed handguns pressed against his head.

Nolan sighed.

"I knew you would try something like this eventually," he said solemnly. "I'm afraid you'll have to be punished… severely. I want this family to go back to what it used to be. We're already kept from that by them. People like you aren't making our efforts any better."

Rolph’s eyes went wide as he gawked at the man.

"C-Come on, Nolan! We can talk about this!" he exclaimed nervously. "You're not really going to tell these two to shoot me, are you?!"

Nolan shook his head.

“No. But I’m afraid she will want to handle this,” he answered.

He reached into the right pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small wood and crystal object in the shape of a skull. The object had a horizontal slit on the back of the skull.

Rolph’s eyes immediately began to look like they were about to pop out of his head, and an intense expression of unimaginable fear appeared on his face as he looked at the item.

“You can’t do this!” he cried. “No! God! No God, please no! No! No! Noooo!”

He tried to move away from Ryan and Alan, but the twins simply pressed their guns harder into his temples, making him cry out.

"I'm sorry, Rolph. I didn't want it to come to this. But you know how she feels about the current state of our family. You know how hard she's been trying to help us return to our old lives. You know what she prefers to do to those of us who are blindly and foolishly loyal to the Avellinos. And unfortunately, I can't say anything to her to convince her not to use such horrid methods of punishment."

He put the item to his lips and blew into the slit. A loud, piercing shriek came from it.

A few moments later, heavy footsteps approached the other side of the door, which opened, and someone came through.

Sunset’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.

The figure coming into the room had to bend down significantly to even fit through the doorway. Once they were inside, they straightened their posture.

They were tall, impossibly tall. Sunset actually had to crane her neck in order to see their head. She herself was about five-foot-seven, but she looked like a small toddler in comparison to this giant, who stood at about nine-foot-eight, even taller than Skipting Lunam, and he was the tallest person she knew, save for Princess Celestia and Viin’Garal. Their height and appearance could only mean that they were from Equestria.

The newcomer was powerfully built—"Amazonian" was a word that came to mind, but even that failed to come close to describing them—with colossal, rippling muscles that bulged and stretched the clothing they wore, reminding her heavily of the Incredible Hulk.

The only features that gave away the person's gender were the large, heavy breasts that heaved with every breath, looking like prize-winning watermelons strapped to her chest, and her round, toned rear end.

Those two features also helped Sunset figure out her race. A large chest and rear like this woman’s were two of the defining and most well known physical traits of a good number of female Changelings, with quite a few well-endowed Changelings using their attributes to seduce potential prey, mates, or simple casual flings, so they could feed off their partner’s love and lust.

They were also known for their insanely high sex drives, although the Queen completely dwarfed even the most sexually ravenous Changeling.

This woman wore armor that Sunset recognized as lamellar, the sewn iron plate armor worn by Norse warriors of this world's history and the Nordic and Changeling warriors of Equestria. But the lamellar this woman wore had the masterfully-crafted designs of the renowned blacksmiths of Askja Snjó Mountain. Leather armor covered her legs, and leather bracers covered her forearms, steel covering the tops of the bracers, lining the back of her forearms, while black fur lined the backs of the bracers.

Dark brown leather boots were on her legs, black fur lining the mouths. A black bear skin and fur cloak was draped over her shoulders, the paws of the once living beast hanging from the front of her shoulders like a dog with its paws over a fence, while the head of the dead animal rested atop the woman's head as a hood.

But probably the most interesting part of her outfit was her mask.

It was a silver mask in the shape of a human skull, carefully and masterfully crafted with astonishing yet disturbing detail to the point where one might think the mask was indeed an actual human skull.

Just like her cousin’s.

The woman lifted a large, powerful hand to her face, and removed the mask, lowering it and hanging it on a small hook on her belt. Two crimson slitted eyes stared down at her with a curious expression. Her skin was, to Sunset's shock, the same as Skipting's, the pale tan of an Equestrian on the left side, and the ebony skin and hard carapace of a Changeling on the right.

Her nose twitched suddenly, and she began sniffing the air, before she bent down and brought her face close to Sunset's. The massive woman continued sniffing, possibly trying to find the source of whatever scent she had picked up. Apparently, to the young girl’s dismay, she seemed to be the source of the scent, as the woman moved her head about, investigating her.

After a few more moments, she stopped and moved her head to look Sunset in the eye, a predatory expression on her face.

"Where is he?" she hissed in a low, sultry voice.

"W-What?" Sunset said, starting to shake.

"Where. Is. He?" she repeated, baring her teeth to reveal a set of massive razor sharp fangs.

"I… I don't know who you're talking about."

"I can smell him on you. You've been around him. You know where he is—or at least, where he might be."

"Blóðþrá, please stop interrogating the poor girl. She's terrified," Nolan requested.

Blóðþrá turned to face Nolan, a scowl on her face.

"She knows where he is," she growled. "He's here, in the city."

"I know you want to find him, but you don't have to scare Sunset out of her mind."

The door burst open and a boy of about seventeen, with fair skin and clean brown hair in a crew cut, wearing a simple white t-shirt, a gray pair of jeans, and black sneakers, ran in, a look of fear on his face.

"Dad! We've got a situation out here!" he yelled.

"What kind of situation, Dylan?" Nolan asked.

"There's some guy in weird clothes and armor and armed with a shitload of weapons demanding that we release Sunset Shimmer!" the boy cried.

Nolan's eyes briefly widened, before he fished a phone out of his pocket. After a few moments, the TV in the room came to life, and showed camera displays of the lobby, where the man Dylan had described was standing before the front doors.

"Skipting…" Sunset murmured.

"Who?" the well-dressed man asked, turning to her.

"He's my cousin, from the same world she's from," she answered, pointing to Blóðþrá. "He's here to rescue me. Although, now I don't think I'll actually need rescuing, given that you didn't want this in the first place."

"While I am perfectly willing to accept this man's demands, I am curious. What will happen if the more violent and remorseless members stand in his way—not that I would encourage that, of course. I believe in peaceful negotiations."

"Skipting Lunam is a soldier in the Lunar Army, as well as the captain of the Lunar Royal Guard, and his mother's personal guard. He is also the infamous Midnight Assassin, the title having been passed down to him from his grandfather, and the Hero of Dragovan, having fought in the Dragovanese War of Independence ten years ago to free Dragovan from the Mongols."

She shuddered.

"If anyone stands in his way, then may God have mercy on their souls."

"There is no mortal, living or dead, who could stop an Abysswalker like Skipting," Blóðþrá said. "No matter how powerful they are, whether they're mortal or demigod. Not even a god could stop him, he's that damn determined and stubborn. People back home call him 'God Killer' for a reason. All who know his legend and his name fear him. He is what monsters fear. He is what monsters and demons check for under their beds and in their closets at night."

"So he's like the boogeyman?" Dylan asked.

She grinned.

"No…" she answered. "He's the man you send to kill the fucking boogeyman."

Skipting calmly opened the front door and walked inside, entering a large open area that was most likely the lobby. A quick scan of the room and its occupants showed that forty-four Diamond Dogs were scattered around the lobby, and all of them stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

"How'd you get in here?!" a Diamond Dog demanded.

"I simply dispatched the guards posted outside and walked in here," the assassin replied.

"What do you want, freak?"

"I demand that you release Sunset Shimmer and bring her to me," he said.

Several thugs laughed.

"Why the hell would we do that?" the thug said. "It sounds like you're trying to make a deal, so what do we get in exchange if we give you the bitch?"

A group of Diamond Dogs looked at the thug.

"Come on, man," one of them said. "Let's just do what he asks. We didn't even want her to get kidnapped and brought here in the first place. Nolan didn’t even want it done."

"Yeah," a second said. "We just want to go back to helping people. Ya know, what we used to do."

“So what say we do what this guy asks, and maybe he can help us, just like that really big lady has these past few years,” a third added.

The Prince looked at the group.

"I appreciate your kindness," he said. "Go. Leave this room. I shall allow the fifteen of you to live so you may one day return to the lives you so desire."

They nodded and thanked him, leaving the lobby and going into a different area.

"Give me no trouble, return Sunset to me safe and sound, allow us to leave safely, and never bother us again, and perhaps I may spare your pathetic lives," he offered, looking at the twenty-nine remaining gang members.

A group of thugs stood up from where they were sitting and approached the Prince, stopping within six feet of him. They all drew weapons, knives, brass knuckles, handguns and such.

"Very well…" Skipting said, placing his hand on the top of the Kingusureiyā's sheath.

He unlocked the blade with a push of his thumb, positioning his other hand over the weapon's hilt. He pressed his gauntlet-covered, clawed fingers together, then spread them apart so it looked like he was holding a ball in his claws. His fingers then touched the Kingusureiyā's habaki, before spreading out once more.

The assassin moved his arm to wave it horizontally, the tips of his claws pointing at each of the Diamond Dogs standing before him, while also rotating his wrist, hand, and fingers in smooth motions, until his arm was pointing directly to his right. He moved his arm again, touching the Kingusureiyā's habaki with his claws a second time, after which he moved his hand to grasp the hilt.

He moved his left foot behind him, and his right foot in front of him, slightly bent. His torso was turned to the left, hunched over slightly.

In seconds, the temperature seemed to drop to freezing, to the point where both Skipting and the Diamond Dogs' breaths formed visible clouds. His cloak began to billow in a nonexistent wind, but the nonexistent wind quickly became real, a strong breeze flowing throughout the room, making the thugs' clothes ruffle and shake, and causing papers, trash, and other small things to fly around. The lights began to flicker rapidly.

"What's happening?!" one Diamond Dog cried.

A shadowy black, purple, and dark blue mist began to emanate from Skipting, covering the floor in a thick, dark fog that quickly rose up to knee height for the Diamond Dogs.

"Art of Chaos Form One," Skipting whispered in a voice like Death Himself, "Ethereal Cords of Fate, Wrath of a Thousand Fallen Blades."

His grip tightened on the Kingusureiyā, and he drew the blade and slashed.

The Diamond Dogs were terrified and confused. The moment the intruder drew his blade, time seemed to slow down significantly. They could see the man darting between them, slashing at them with his sword. Their fellow gang members actually moved in slow motion, while he moved and attacked at a slightly higher than normal speed.

None of them could tell how much time was passing, as even their watches seemed to have slowed down significantly, making them useless. Seconds felt like minutes, hours, even.

Finally, time went back to normal. To the thugs' shock, the stranger was still in the exact same position he had been in when he drew his blade.

Skipting twirled the Kingusureiyā around in his hand, bringing it to its saya, and dragging the back of the blade along the top, until the blade's point entered it. The rest of the blade followed, until only the habaki was exposed. He put his left thumb against the tsuba, keeping it from going any further, removed his right hand from the hilt, and snapped his fingers.

This action caused the air around the Diamond Dogs to shimmer, revealing countless wires going all over the place, connecting to the ceiling and floor, and even the furniture. The wires all wrapped tightly around every single one of the criminals, leaving them unable to move. Already the wires were beginning to dig into their skin, cutting into them slightly. Many of them were kept suspended in the positions they'd been in when Skipting drew his blade, leaving their arms in the air, and even locking their fingers in place, some having their fingers and arms bent back the wrong way by the wires.

Skipting removed the Kingusureiyā and its saya from his hip, drawing the weapon again, another old habit from the war. This revealed that all of the wires were connected to its habaki, starting and ending at it. He moved the weapon around a little, tugging on the wires and causing his enemies more pain.

He smiled slightly behind his mask as he walked into the middle of the little gathering of thugs.

"What is this?! Who the hell are you?! What the hell are you?!" one of the gang members cried.

The assassin turned to the one who had spoken, his fiery, hate-filled eyes locking on to his prey.

"This is one of my little tricks. These wires are all connected to the habaki of my weapon," he responded. "When I move it around"—He moved the Kingusureiyā around a little to demonstrate, making everyone cry out in agony—"it pulls on the wires."

He chuckled darkly.

"As for what I am… Well… I… am a Nightmare."

"You're a fucking monster!" another thug yelled.

The assassin actually laughed, a cold, hollow, sadistic laugh that chilled them to their very souls.

"That is where you are wrong," he said. "I am not a monster. I am what monsters fear. I am what monsters tell their children stories about during the day, when they believe they are safe from me, the blade in the night. I am the living nightmare incarnate of an entire nation. A nation nearly left completely defenseless without an army for almost five months by my wrath, forced to suffer for the pain they caused me."

He turned away from the criminal and moved the Kingusureiyā to its saya, slowly sliding it in. The Diamond Dogs, noticing this and figuring out what would happen once the blade was fully sheathed, started yelling, screaming, and crying.

"Please!"

"Don't do it!"

"We have families, people who would miss us!"

"Don't you have a heart?!"

"You are all scum. Your only desire is to prey on the weak, the helpless, and the innocent. You are cruel and without mercy. You only work for your own personal gain. You care not for the pain you cause others, nor the pain you cause your loved ones."

He slid the blade the rest of the way in, finally locking it into place with the habaki.

Instantly, the wires snapped, causing the ends to dart around, like a rubber band pulled taught and released on one end. Their razor sharp properties decimated the Diamond Dogs, making them scream in absolute agony. Their screams only lasted a few moments before the wires fully retracted to the Kingusureiyā and disappeared.
The thugs all fell apart into pieces with massive sprays of crimson blood like what one would see in old samurai movies, particularly Akira Kurosawa films, which Sunset, Luna, and Celestia had all shown him.

But Skipting, as much as he admired those films, felt that they were nothing compared to the actual experience, as every great strike Takashi made with his renowned blade during the war had had the same effects.

The same black and purple energy that had come from the last guard's corpse emanated from the twenty-nine decimated bodies around him, all being drawn into the gems on the Kingusureiyā's hilt.

Their internal organs, many in pieces, spilled everywhere, fragments of bone littering the area. Much of the blood sprayed onto the young Prince, coating him with a fine layer of the crimson liquid. He briefly relished in the feeling of being covered nearly head to toe with the blood of his foes, before walking towards the door at the back of the lobby, his blood and hellfire eyes reverting to their normal colors.

Author's Note

I’m back!… Sorta. I finally managed to get a bit of time to post another chapter! Honestly, I’m pretty frustrated with myself for making you all wait so long. I’ve been nearly constantly thinking about posting, but I just haven’t had the time, unfortunately. I don’t know when the next update will be, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to do it soon!
Also, translations!
Icelandic Names:
Hvíslandi -“Whispering”
Bráðnandi Maður - “Melting Man”
Blóðþrá - “Bloodlust”
Askja Snjó - “Ash Snow”
Drekabarn - “Dragon Child”
(Skaði is an Old Norse name meaning “Death.”)