Simplified

Onboard the IAS Harpy The Straight of the Frozen North...

As the many have gone into the barracks, some continue to lie awake, not sure of how they will go, or who will end up going first. Butterflies swarm their stomachs, yanking at their interiors for a way out, the only certain opening being the one that leads upwards. So instead of thinking about who will die first, they simply start a discussion over what they'll miss out on.

"So what are you going to miss about home?" The first asks.

The second replies. "My wife and daughter. My wife, despite not always having been sold the best produce, she'd make the best meals. My little girl, we were supposed to be taking her to the wine barrel derby. She always wanted to see the race up close, but I could never afford close seating. So I bought her a pair of binoculars to get as close to the action, no matter where they are on the course."

"Ah, you're a good lad." A third calls out. "I've got a special someone waiting for me... at least they won't have to wait for long."

"I've got a sister. She's been sickly, I was hoping conscription would help pay for her medicines. I chose a hell of a time to sign up. As soon as I finish boot camp, they stir up a war." The first replies. "It's insanity to think that we were originally to be sent to the eastern shore for the advancement, only to be thrown right into some random front up north."

Looking to jump into the conversation, the absent-body Nondis replies. "Rumors say that our airships went down without even being able to land anything close to a hit. It's basically pointless."

The others grow even more dismayed. "The legendary species that created saltpeter, our one advantage against the world. To think I'd go from mining the shit for our forces to use... to possibly not even being able to use it at all." The second replies.

"And we swear allegiance to this?" Nondis adds. "Five thousand of our own lost to the sea chasing down a yacht. I don't know how much more of a blatant warning we can get."

"The emperor decided this for us. We're doomed." The third responds.

"You're not wrong." The undead stallion replies. "I just don't know, guys. I'm pretty much sold on the idea of the emperor not even caring one ounce for us."

"We all are at this point." The first confirms.

"Seriously, why are we even going through with these stupid-ass orders, thinking that we'll make a difference somehow, just because some guy with a wine glass full of his favorite drink tells us how we're gonna die? The only thing we're going to do is die in humiliating agony, some of us will probably be calling for our mommas, our dads, possibly our wives as we try to whisper our last thoughts to the world. All for them to get drowned out by the surrounding chaos. Many of us are far too young to even drink, yet they can give us a tiny shot of rum on the way out just to say we had something. And I've seen some of these conscripts, at least some of us are no older than sixteen, fifteen even."

"Disciplinary conscriptions, yeah." The second explains. "But I guess that's the bleak reality that awaits us from the underground if we step out of line."

"Yeah, it's not really that different, is it?" The third adds.

The undead stallion rolls over in his bunk and asks the hopeless bunch. "You guys okay?"

"I mean what's the point? We're all gonna die anyways. The only thing that makes this worse is if we just decide as a company to commit mass suicide. Then none of our families will see any aid after that."

"How much do you guys expect for your families to be paid?" Nondis inquires.

The first gives his response. "Depends on the service and the cause of death. Front lines is an easy ten thousand, that many spurs is more than enough to live a life on the surface."

"Yeah, but for how long?" The undead stallion debates. "A month, two or three at best. But then that ten grand goes right down the john, flushed. Might be great to imagine the idea of your loved ones having their days out in the sun, but what good is it when it rains? Their time there will be filled with storms, trials and tribulations from not only the greedy landlords looking to clip a few coins extra from the good-natured denizens, but also a host of swindlers in the market. What protects them from that also? Not you, that's for sure. You can't protect jack shit when you're a world over, laying on some field with not a breath to be given back to the earth."

A fourth that's overheard the conversation to it's current point turns over to push back against the liberal-minded undead. "Look, I'm sure it's a great idea to imagine us being revolutionaries. But our families deserve something good, and it's best for sooner than later."

"And you don't think their long-term futures are worth fighting for?" Nondis asks.

"It's worth dying for." The fourth stringently answers. "That's why most of us are here now."

"I'm just saying." He replies with a hapless shrug. "Y'all are dying for the wrong thing here."

"Then what do you suggest? We take arms against our commanders, leaving our families with nothing should we die? That death is even more pointless than what we already face!"

"The first mind of a revolutionary is that you have no future to begin with." Nondis reiterates as he lays on his back, closing his eyes. "Just a thought to stir on while you try to sleep into your final days. Maybe it would be better to take advice from a dead one walking."

"HEY!" A voice calls out from the doorway. "LIGHTS OUT IN THERE! WE'RE FIVE HOURS AWAY FROM OUR DROPOFF POINT!"

The steel door closes, leaving only a lingering silence as everyone in the room does as instructed, at least tries to as one voice starts to sing out softly.

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree,
Where they strung up a mare they say who murdered three?
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you, coming to the tree
Where a dead buck called out for his love to flee?
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree."

"Will you shut up already?" The fourth angrily demands.

"There's a message in my little lullaby. I suggest you listen closely." Nondis responds softly.

The fourth rolls over, placing his pillow over his head. "Whatever."

"Are you, are you coming to the tree
Where I told you to stand so we would all be free?
Strange things keep happening, no stranger would it be
If we gathered in the night underneath... the hanging... tree."

With a diminishing breath, the undead falls quiet. The fourth expresses his relief. "Finally, some silence."

Deep in the caverns of Midnight Castle Ponyland...

With his eyes opening once more, yet another undead stirs from a wagon containing a few others beneath him. He sees the silent remains of a few foals, a mare, and two mineshaft workers who seem to have been crushed under a recent cave-in further therein. He gathers a view of his current surroundings. A crowd of citizens gather around with righteous fury directed at a local crier issuing a decree of an undesired change. Many within the crowd expresses profound concerns and dissents to the matter being brought forward.

"Just that much!? JUST THAT MUCH!? We slave away our day in these mines, and you're telling us with a war around the bend, we're getting taxed even more!? Many of us only get paid thirty spurs in a month!"

"I've got a family to feed!"

"My children are sick!"

Appearing the least bit of concerned, the well-guarded crier shows off the scroll with the emperor's wax seal. "This is the imperial decree! For your diligence, your families will be greatly rewarded for your service to our great empire! You should be grateful you all even get the chance to have the emperor take notice of your continued labor and progress! It means that greater things will be in store for you when our victory is at hoof! We assure you that whatever gains that our country will benefit from will also be shared unto you in good time, and in good measure!"

More protests continue to echo throughout the caverns as another citizen cites their observations. "But what about the ones who have went out to serve in the armies? We haven't even gotten our stipends yet!"

The crier continues to respond with indifference. "The war has yet to be started on any of the fronts assigned to the coastal cities! We will continue to hold on all stipends until the first volley is loosed! That is the time when the families of our mighty and proud centuries will receive their fair share!"

A member of the angered throng steps out to adamantly call out the crier for the unfair distribution of the wealth burden. "My friend lives on the surface! He gets paid more than triple my rate, and all he does is watch as the anvils fall upon the metals we break our backs to give! We are routinely crushed and killed, even now there is a wagon filled with the corpses of our loved ones! They above experience no change in their burdens, but then it is our families that are made to pay these absurd costs when we already create more than what you need to wage your wars!"

The crowd loudly cosigns the stallion that stands out in the defense of the citizens. The crier simply defends the wealth burden imposed. "Those taxes are for the betterment of our defenses! Do you all simply wish not to be protected? If I must say it, our country is truly a power of the world! It takes money to maintain that status! Do you honestly think those Equestrians live a better life than you do? They don't! They compete with changelings and dragons and yaks for their food stocks, their resources, their lands, their very way of life! They struggle to withstand the invasive creatures that run amok in their country, they fight the elements all the same! But all of you, you live in the safety, the fidelity and warmth of your caverns! Ponyland is successful, and it is with your continued work that we further usher in progress and improvement─"

"Oh please!" The stallion interrupts. "How long have we heard of 'progress and improvement' now? Years have we heard that same speech, years have we labored down here, years have we been made to suffer losses and crippling financial instability! Now you come to us, preaching your idiotic sermons of progress and improvement! It doesn't work! We need meaningful change, and we need it now! And if we don't change this, then maybe we need to change what's up top!"

As impassioned cheers fill the caves, growing in presence, a shot rings out to silence the crowd. Everyone instinctively ducks as specks of rock and dust fall from the ceiling above. The crier looks down upon the brave stallion. "Do you dare speak against our empire such empty threats?"

"I speak for those who live in it, the blood and soul of this very nation! And you leeches above will have your day where you will feel the pain we had to suffer through!"

The mode of indifference falters and a frown takes it's place. The stallion turns around gives a quiet order. "Take that one."

As he turns around, spears rain from up above, encircling the stallion and isolating him from his peers. Pegasi centuries, operating in covert, dart down to clear the crowd away as a unicorn runs in to use his magic to ignite the runes on the surrounding spears. A prism develops around the outspoken stallion, a crushing pressure within the field drops the stallion to the ground with overwhelming force. The stallion hollers out in pain as his insides feels much like they're being squeezed to the point where they may eject from his mouth. A mare cries out from the crowd, pressing against the armed pegasi. "My brother, no! Please don't hurt him!"

The crier ignores her pleas for the most part, only raising his hoof when the outspoken stallion falls unconscious. "Fear not, citizen! He is merely going to be offered a means of reeducation! You have nothing to fear! He will return to you in a week's time as a loyal and obedient servant of the empire!" A row of centuries rush in down below, holding their firearms, aiming their barrels for the crowd. "As for the rest of you, please disperse and continue with your labors! We assure you that your work will be worth the reward!"

As the now neutralized stallion is gathered by the unicorn responsible for the spell, the younger sister continues to lash out against the centuries holding her away from her brother's reach. "Let me go! LET ME GO!"

One of the pegasi flanks her from behind and knocks the staff of his spear into the back of her neck, causing her to fall to the ground with a painful thud. The imperial gathering disperses into the air and disappears along with the disabled stallion and the nonchalant crier. Some from within the dispersing crowd checks on her as she staggers back to her hooves.

"I'm sick of this." She groans lividly. "I'm sick of all of this!"

"Trust me, we understand your frustrations." Replies the young stallion who helps her up. "Years of mining, and we get nothing but a loaf of bread and a few carrots to live on. But we can't afford for both you and your brother to be brought to the bastille. Think of your poor mother."

The mare argues back. "You know that every time there's an increase in our pay, those merchants up top will hike the price to where nothing changes for us! Now we don't even have that! We'll be better off dead than pooling our remaining pay and rationing what little we get among ourselves!"

Once more, the stallion tries to calm the enraged mare. "I know. But we have to be smart about what we do here. We must be better than what just happened. We all could've been slaughtered, but graces were given." The stallion eyes the lingering wagon full of corpses. "Your brother's left a grim job for us. Let's get that done before disease spreads to us all."

Still laying atop of the rest of the corpses, the silent undead takes a mental observation. "So, these guys are actually pretty pissed off, almost to the point of boiling over. Can't say that they'll be ready to make some noise at this point. All that security and armed escort will make quick work of them. Can't win a fight when the field is skewed so far out of their favor, but I can see how this bubbles over in due time. All that's needed is the right amount of pressure and the best opportunity. Then they can make some serious noise."

The wagon starts to move, the pair starts guiding the wagon further into the caves. "The crier said something about reeducation. What do you think he means by that?" The mare questions.

The stallion sighs heavily. "What it usually means, torture and forced conscription."

"He won't be back in a week, will he?"

"I'm afraid not, at least alive."

The eyes of the undead closes as the sounds of the mare sniffling from her own dismay for her brother fades in his ears, his body bouncing lazily atop of the others. "...I wonder what that 'reeducation' process looks like."

The Midnight Bastille...

The eyes of yet another undead are opened to another scene, a dark and damp place that appears too familiar to be coincidental. The cell door clacks and clatters with the sound of it's opening, the undead remains perfectly motionless as he listens in to the conversation about the body he's inhabiting.

"Damn, this one only lasted four days." One of the centuries on patrol call out.

The other behind him laughs haughtily. "And you wagered on him lasting six. That's a good twenty spurs you owe me. Pay up."

Upset for having lost his wager, the first century walks up to the undead and gives it a unrelenting buck to the chest. "Weak piece of shit." The undead, though tethered to a living mind, feels every last ounce of the pain issued to his chest. He notices it's highly difficult to pretend he didn't feel that cruel and merciless impact. "Alright, let's get a hold of 'em."

The other century warns his co-conspirator. "Careful now, wouldn't want what happened the last time to pop up on you again."

"Ah, this one's freshly gone. The one from last time was a bloated corpse. It was only a matter of time before he busted."

"But didn't it take you three days to get rid of the smell of feces and decomposed flesh?" The second points out as he frees the forelegs of the undead.

"Don't remind me. It took me days to clean the cell, and I kept coming back home smelling like it." As they pick up the undead's body, they simply blow off the cuffs and loosen the torque of the chains to accommodate another. "It's a good thing we caught this one fresh, hardly have to clean shit. But I swear he's supposed to be stiffer than this with how cold he is. Oh well, he's easy to move without the rigor."

"And just like that, we're ready for the next one the crier may send in from beneath. Those under-rats sure don't like the new tax plan."

"So what, they can share a cell with this dead bloke until the undertaker comes around, that shouldn't be until sometime next Tuesday."

"Wow, the true example of sanitary confinement." Nondis thinks to himself. "At least Umbra knew how to keep his spaces clean after he was done. These guys are just playing with some extra shit, don't even know what all they're gonna get themselves into. I understand cruelty is the point, but holy fuck is it just too much."

The topic of their conversation shifts, quickly gaining his attention. "Hey, any word on that two-legger in the deeper parts?"

"Ah, so I am here."

"Not much." The second replies. "Only that Lord Galbranth wants to do more in keeping him alive for the Emperor to obtain information about their weapons, which functions like ours but way faster on a reload. Once we recreate those, our country will be virtually unstoppable."

"Can't wait till they crack the code on that one. It would be just in time to put those under-rats in their proper place."

"You can fucking try. Good luck not breaking the damn thing." Nondis comments to himself.

The sounds of a struggle appear closer and closer, the two centuries look towards the door with the first responding. "Ah, looks like our next inductee will be here in a second."

"Think he's a revolutionary or just an outspoken?"

"Hey now, I'm not doing another damn wager!"

"C'mon, double or nothing!"

"Double my ass and kiss it!"

"No one likes a sore loser, you know."

With the door already opened, they easily toss the offending victim into the cell. A third century calls out with a chuckle. "Get in there, ya filthy rat!"

"Let's help him get cozy." The first suggests before having to dodge a swift buck of the stallion's hindlegs.

"Get the hell away from me!"

"Silence!" A familiar voice calls from the doorway. The crier from earlier steps in with a twisted smile set upon his lips. His eyes appear frantic and mad, he runs inside and delivers a crippling blow to the solar plexus of the outspoken stallion. "Such insolence to challenge the way we've done things! Our country thrives because of what we do! You, a mere rat crawling in some sewer filth, demanding equal treatment!? Know your place, you insolent peasant!"

"Far cry from that calm demeanor from earlier. This guy's on a serious power trip." Nondis observes as another seems to bring in some sort of tool. "Oh yeah, these guys are old school. A pear of anguish? That's the furthest thing that I'd like to deal with in any orifice."

"Hold him, hold him well." The device is forced into the stallion's mouth. The crier smiles manically as he starts to screw in the knob, increasing the bulb's size in his victim's jaw. "I could kill you right now, rat. It's not like your neighbors or family will even notice. No one ever comes back from this, not without some proper introspection. And you, you need correction above all else. Perhaps I can start with your jaw." He pauses for a moment, coming to an even more cruel conclusion. "Or... I could just break you to start."

As the tool is yanked from the stallion's mouth, he looks on with increasing fear as his tail is lifted. "Wait! No! NO PLEASE!"

"Ah. Quick to adjust tones, aren't we?" The crier snickers as he walks to the stallion's rear. "But decisions like yours aren't to be weighted lightly, rat. Your punishment is still very much due."

"To hell with this." Nondis thinks as he tries to conjure up his levitation, only to find no response. He realizes that the undead vessel is without a horn to cast magic. "Dammit, this one's an earth pony. Guess I gotta do this the old fashioned way."

Stirring from his state of inanimation, he lunges towards the sadistic crier. The others watch in shock as the undead corpse starts to land a series of nerfed blows to the crier. The third century calls out for the other two to assist. "Hey!"

The first summons a musket and drives the butt of the weapon into the back of the undead's head, causing him to slowly slink among the ground. The crier shouts out with an embarrassed fury. "Who the hell is that!?"

"Some idiot we thought dead. He'll be that way soon enough." The second replies.

"How soon are we talking?" The third asks.

The undead raises his head to look at a barrel aimed directly for his forehead. The first gives a timely reply. "Like now."

*chi-POW!*

With a pain surging through his brain, Nondis opens his eyes to return to his own body. He buckles over in searing discomfort of that pain temporarily taking place in his own body before it inevitably subsides. "Agh... That hurt like fucking hell. Note to self: Avoid that kind of ending next time."

The door to his cell opens, revealing a grinning Gabranth with a silver platter in tow. "Well. You look grim. I take it your accommodations aren't so comfortable after all."

"I could be in more discomfort." The man replies while rubbing his head against his arms. "So, did you actually bring me something I could eat?"

"Oh I've got just the thing for you." He replies proudly, placing the platter before him and uncovering the lid to reveal a bowl of gray seafood covered in gelatin. "Jellied eels, a proper staple of proper equine society."

Nondis looks down at the plater, then back up to the stallion. "You look me in my face and tell me if you actually eat that shit. That doesn't look like it's nearly edible."

"Ah, you're just uncultured. Let me show you." Without a moment's hesitation, the stallion takes a piece of the gelatinous eel and tossed it into his mouth. He spits out a few chunks but eats the remainder with a satisfied smile. "See there? Just a bit bony in spots, but the texture is fairly interesting, the taste is an acquired one, you'll do well to indulge."

"My momma would punch your chef in the face for cooking this up. This ain't even Cracker Barrel levels of 'I season my food with prayers and hopes of slavery being reinstituted'. How do you guys intend to conquer the world and you can't conquer the kitchen of your own home?"

The stallion takes great offense and stuffs a jellied eel into the man's mouth. "Well be that as it may, It's the only thing you'll be eating from this day forward."

Upon the conflict of flavors leaving war scars on the man's tongue, Nondis wretches as the food falls freely from his mouth, his stomach pressing harshly against his diaphragm as a threat to his own constitution. "Bleurgh─Okay, I'll admit it. You found a way to crack me. Fuck!"

The stallion still shows resentment that one of his home dishes is seen as a torture device, but a smile grows as he starts to take advantage of his newfound method of interrogation. "Then let's discuss some matters, hopefully we can be cordial about this. You can leave the room clean." He shoves another one of the eels towards the man's lips. "Tell me more about the weapon we brought before you yesterday."

Not wanting to have the disgusting food shoved in his mouth yet again, he answers with a partial mistruth to hopefully spare himself and not compromise his own kind. "Kills your boys from downrange. By the time your guys even get close to their position, you're not just looking at a row of corpses to climb over, you're joining them. You'll never see your opposition, but they'll see you."

"How do you use it?" Gabranth answers.

"Just like how you load your weapons." He lies. "You wanna start with putting a piece of flint in the back part for the trigger, then you pack the powder in, that's the main thing. Then you put the pellets in the thingamajig, you take your ram rod, shove that bad boy in, make sure it's good and tight slam it into the thingamajig hole, and you treat like every other firearm you guys have. But you'll need a lot of gunpowder to do the trick."

"Gunpowder?" The stallion asks.

"You guys call it saltpeter." Nondis clarifies. "After that, you take the weapon, hold it like you're taking aim, and then you fire. And if you want to stick about six pellets in the barrel, it'll fire each one as fast as lightning."

"Ah, that wasn't so hard, now was it? All it takes is a bit of reaching out, and good things start to happen." The stallion nods with approval. "I'll give your account to the emperor and our alchemists. We'll be sure to inquire you more on these weapons when they further analyzes these items for themselves. Then we'll confirm whether or not your practice proves useful... or otherwise."

"Oh yeah, get back to me if you have any other issues." The man says as he looks down at the platter. "But for the love of God almighty, please give me something else other than this violation of the Geneva conventions." The stallion quirks his brow at the man's comment. "The food, can I get something else?"

"In due time." Gabranth answers as he walks out of the room. "For now, you can grow your palate with our traditional Ponyland cuisine. Gain some culture, you'll need it."

The door slams shut as Nondis glances back down to the food before him. "It's even worse that they make me bend down to eat. Now I gotta smell it the whole time." The man closes his eyes. "Okay, let's go back to that northern front of theirs. I'd really like to not be here looking at these damn things anymore. I'd rather smell and taste decomposing flesh than this shit."

Onboard the IAS Harpy The Crystal Mountains...

The eyes of the undead don't open quite as quick as they previously did. Nondis struggles as he waits for the spell to fully take hold of the body, overriding the gradually setting rigor mortis. But as he shakes off the crippling grip of that process, his ears do pick up the slight hint of the world around him. "I don't understand how he could've died."

The moment his eyelids finally break open to allow some light through, he sees the sliver of incandescence shimmering past the zipper of what appears to be some sort of bag. His body is drastically slowed as he uses the sluggishly waking magic in the borrowed cadaver. "Like seriously, he was singing all of us to sleep one moment and then he just offs and ceases to live. Some revolutionary he played himself to be."

"Any identification?"

"Just some annoying guy posing himself to be speaking up for us under-dwellers. Now he's just some dead guy who used to be annoying."

"Rude." Nondis thinks as his body finally gains most of it's full range of motion.

"Well that's besides the point. How do we discuss the matter of his compensations?"

This particular voice appears to be that of the captain. "There shouldn't be any. There's no honor in sleeping on the job. We'll stake it as a suicide and dump him out in the snow."

"He just died in his sleep, while we all get to die fighting. Lucky bastard, bet he didn't feel a damn thing."

Nondis gives a few blinks to check himself before rising up with all the strength the body can muster. "AAAH!" Everyone screams in bloody horror as the once-dormant corpse takes the body bag off of his upper half like a sleeping sack.

"The fuck kind of prank is this?" He looks around to see everyone stammering and shivering with fear. Instead of playing into what the situation truly is, Nondis chooses to lean back into his persona for his current situation. "Oh, hey guys."

One of the centuries turns to the physician and creeks out an observation. "Medic, you said there was no pulse."

"And signs of decay." The aforementioned physician adds.

Nondis laughs heartily as he pats himself on the chest. "What are you guys talking about, I'm alive. I may be one hell of a heavy sleeper, but that's no way to treat someone who's gotta fight along side you on the front. Though I'll admit, this was a hell of a prank. Had me scared for a moment." He climbs out of the bag and hops to the floor with a yawn and a stretch. "How far are we from the front?"

No one is quite sure of how to respond, but the captain speaks out in their stead. "We're where we need to be right now. The better question is how alive are you?"

"I dunno, could be a little more alive if I did unspeakable things to your sister. BAM! But that's a story for the boys, and you're clearly not one of us."

The angered captain narrows his eyes at the motioned cadaver. "You seem to be quite the jester. For morale's sake, I'll be sure to put you up front and center."

"Ha! It's actually the ones in the second row that die faster!" Nondis points out, causing the officer to tilt his head with uncertainty of how to respond. "Yeah, I can tell you're too used to camping out in the back of the formation, so let me fill you in on what's gonna happen. And this is from experience. Whole wave runs out there, yeah? 'Rah-rah, go for glory' and some other shit. But then reality hits, and you find that your enemy has weapons that do what yours do, but at a much faster rate. First line gets shot at, it's a bloody massacre, second line see their comrades fall all around them, bodies, bile, blood, guts hanging out and shit, limbs and heads missing, all that. So then. they freeze up, not knowing how to process shit of that magnitude. But then they hear some cries for help, 'mercy' they plead, so they run in a panic, try to save some of their buddies, all in the efforts to get shot themselves for standing out too much in an open field. And the guy they tried to save ends up bleeding out instead. So yeah, statistically speaking, second lines die faster than the first, all because of the trauma of battlefield exposure." Everyone gawks as the undead stallion smiles back at the captain. "Oh that's right, you don't know nothing about that. You're so far off site that you can just sit in your tent and drink your wine, then you count up the coin of whoever died the 'most patriotic death', so you can have your secretary write the letters to the families who'll never see their loved ones again, all while clipping a few spurs to fund your wine stash. We get to scream bloody murder while you count statistics, and sit your fat ass in that chair, while we come back in bags like the one you stuffed me in."

Silence. No one else says a thing as Nondis bravely stands face to face with the captain in his borrowed body. It takes a measure of time before the captain takes a whiff of the undead's nostril winds before backing off in gagging disgust. "You should take a shower, you smell of the dead."

"Yeah, point taken." Answers the borrowed cadaver. "I could use a freshening up. The air in that bag got me smelling stale."

Nondis takes his leave and walks down the hall to the showers, all to the sights of a few of the others who stare quietly, knowing that the figure walking was declared deceased openly. But he pays them no mind, and carries on with his morning as though it didn't happen.

The shower runs at a low volume of water, akin to a drip with some semblance of a flow. The water is cold, and the bar of soap shared by many is upon it's last uses. The drain is barely moving with many clumps of fur congested in many of the holes. But not yet having access to all his senses, Nondis steps in and starts to scrub himself carefully. He starts to think to himself over the information he's accumulated from using the spell for the first time.

"So to summarize for a bit, I'm using the step-down version of his spell. When Umbra did it, he had each of the corpses treated and processed so that they'd keep a lot longer. But seeing that I'm not in the business of borrowing for more than what I need to, I haven't processed any of these guys at any extent, nor do I want to encourage myself to do so. And in trading that off, none of my abilities follow over outside of two things; Transferring my consciousness, and the spell I'm using."

As he continues to bathe, he starts to take notice that one of his senses have reawakened in the corpse.

*sniff sniff sniff*

"Augh! Dear God, that's me!? I reek like something unholy!... Well, yeah. Okay, so that means the organs are decomposing, this one's going fast. I'm gonna need time, more time, and this body ain't gonna let me have it. I might just have to find a new one to borrow. All I know is that it will have to be within the next twenty-four hours, otherwise I will be leaking out from every hole. And that would be an even worse giveaway than earlier."

The water shuts off, coming to a drizzling halt as he seems just about ready to start on his mane. "Well damn, didn't think I'd be experiencing this again. Shitty ass plumbing." He says before resuming to his thoughts.

"If we are where they say we are, I could knock a few things out and get a refresh. I'm not gonna choose any of these poor guys from the underground, they've got lives to get back to... But that one asshole... that one, I can take over the ship with him. Yeah... I'm gonna have to find some way and time to get around to him. He don't like me, and I don't like him, plus he'd be sending those guys to a pointless grave."

The undead stallion smells himself once more, still visibly displeased over the result. "No fault of mine. If only we had running water, I wouldn't smell like I came straight from the pits of hell."

"So. I'm gonna have to isolate him, pick him off, but only after I confirm our position. However, I need to be careful because I don't have any of my abilities outside of transferring the two things that makes this spell work. And the guy I'm borrowing has little to no magic knowledge other than basic levitation. Hell, that's actually better than what I had starting off in the guard, so brownie points to me. But still, ain't no way of telling where we are and the importance of our position just by stepping outside."

The intercom sounds out an alert throughout the ship. "ATTENTION ALL CENTURIES! PRINCE MILITADES IS PRESENT! REPORT TO THE LOADING BAY! I REPEAT─"

"Prince Militades, the one leading the operations? Ain't no better way to confirm than that. Won't He do it?"

Everyone gathers back into the holding bay, each and every century on post and standing with nothing but despair written on their faces. The only exception seems to be the undead stallion in his proper position, eyes forward, hooves together, chin at the proper angle, perfectly emotionless, ready to go into whatever chaos that lies ahead. The others around him appear a bit sickly having to smell him, but he presents himself at the front and center of the entire formation, just as the captain ordered.

As they wait, a trio of ponies enters the airship, one of them notably being a gray alicorn who shows his impatience over the simple formality being done. "Why are we even here again? This is so stupid."

Rhapsody replies to the disgruntled prince. "Sir, you know it's customary for you to greet your centuries upon their arrival. If you don't, you risk the possibility of decreasing morale."

"You think any of these shit-stains got anything resembling morale!?" He jokes openly and loudly. "They're from the underground! The only thing they care about is the one thing they'll never get to do, and that's go home!"

"Sir prince! Not in front of the company! You keep saying things like that and no one will ever look to serve you when matters look to get dire!"

The cult leader also adds another perspective. "You know, the first sign of a revolutionary is that they go into the fray with nothing to live for. Surely that would be the unwise conclusion you'd wish to have."

Miltiades scoffs at the harsh rebukes. "Honestly, I don't think it would even be that bad. A revolution here or there might make things interesting, weed out the loyal elite from the peasant riff-raff. Little bit of that might even keep the old fart honest to his tactics. Only thing is that he's got a decent hoof on matters pertaining to these undercrust roaches. Could be somewhat fun otherwise."

While some of the enlisted look at one another with gritted teeth and stewing resentment, Rhapsody continues to chastise the prince. "Sir prince, not everything has to be fun."

"You're barely any fun."

"I am duty-bound, your highness. My 'fun' is making sure that our tasks are done to the best of your capabilities."

"I know a fun time I can remember from this morning, when my dick was down your throat! HA!" He cackles out loudly, looking to some of the enlisted and wanting them to join in. "Eh, c'mon! It's funny because it's really true! Total throat goddess right next to me, and you poor fucks wouldn't even know it from that stony face of hers!"

"Your highness!" Rhapsody screams angrily.

"Your excellency, what an honor to have you!" The captain says openly, greeting the young prince. He carefully glances down to the young imperial and summons a large barrel of wine and a few glasses for the guests. "I know your time here has probably been without any respectable treatment. Perhaps you'd fancy a glass of wine from the motherland, taste of home?"

"Whatever." The young prince takes his glass and waits for his beverage to be poured. Afterwards, he sips the wine, then spits it back out with a bitter taste in his mouth. "You call this wine!? Where's the sweetness!?"

"Sir prince, I miscalculated your tastes. It's an eighty year old Bordeaux."

"Well bor-don't ever give me that shit ever again." He replies tossing the glass aside to break as he quickly goes through the lines of enlisted. "Alright, let's cut the bullshit already and call it what it is, these guys look FUCKING! TERRIBLE!" He goes past each one pointing out flaws. "Like seriously, look at them! This one's already checked out in the mind! That one just puked himself! This one is ugly as shit! This one puked himself! This one looking at me! This one's checked out in the mind like the first one! And this one looks pissed, like he's angry about something. Hey, you pissed because you all look like shit!?C'mon, speak out! At least pretend you have some discipline, like that asshole over there!" He quickly trots over to the undead at the center of the front line. "Speaking of, this one smells like shit... but at least his eyes tell me he's seen it all already! Smells like he's been through it all too, but he's seen it all! This isn't just discipline, this is a murderer ready to kill some shit! I like him! Everyone fucking parade rest and look at this son of a bitch! You, step out!"

The airship captain slinks over to make a suggestion. "Sir, if you wish to take him off of our hooves, he's all yours."

"Hell no, I like the idea of you all being near him! He fucking smells like shit and probably is the exact reason some of you puked your damn selves, but you know what, it's like the collective suffering of you all, I'm pretty much here for it! I mean yeah, he's vomit-inducing, but he's got this thing that tells me he knows how to gut a two-legger with some experience behind it." The undead stallion's eyes sharply cut down to the prince with the highest level of disdain, causing shivers to enter Militades' spine. "Ohhhhohohoh! That stare! That's the one! Those eyes, like they really wanna make me shit myself, EYEBALL ME MORE, YOU SICK FUCK! I wanna know what the hell you got into before you got here! You got those eyes that know a few things about death! You got that glint, you know the one, like you could play with a few lives to get whatever the fuck you want! You know what it takes to survive! And I bet this crusty fuck that gave me that shitty ass wine won't say shit to you if you got something say! Like the moment he does, you'll start some crazy shit, just to keep it interesting!"

The young prince stares back at the undead stallion. Nondis looks down at the young prince, seeing the same glint in his eyes. One thought comes across his mind. "...This is a damn kid. The emperor's got a kid─gotta be in his teens─just causing hell wherever he goes."

The prince blinks first, cracking an enormous smile on his face. "I like him! I wanna take him, but I can't. I wanna take him! But I can't! Like I really wanna take him, cause he's got the... the... the thing, you know!? Like I know he'll be interesting to have like right now, and I'm a right-now kind of guy! But I get this feeling that he's the one who's gonna keep all you stupid fucks in line! Like he's got that fucked up 'Imma put body parts in places where they don't belong' type thing going on. And I'm all here for it! He's gotta stay here! He's the only thing that gives any of these guys an edge worth a damn!" The smile wears off of his face before looking back to the undead. "Damn, if only I knew what fucked you up in the mind to get you like this, and drop all that trauma on everyone else here. We would have a FORCE!"

Rhapsody steps out to gain the prince's attention. "Sir, we have things to do. We shouldn't be here for too long."

"Oh yeah, we still got six of those guys we need to shake up."

The captain's ears flick at the mention of the prince's doings, likely out of eagerness of wanting to prove himself. "Do you perhaps mean six interrogations, sir prince?"

"Uh, duh. They're the ones with the funky-ass weapons we keep losing to."

Nondis shifts his eyes back ahead. "Yeah, I'm right where I need to be."

The captain continues to grovel towards the young prince. "E-errrm, your highness, i-in-interrogation is my strong suit. Perhaps I could be of some use to you."

Hardly convinced, the prince shakes his head. "Ehh, I don't know."

"I'll even go as far as sodomy to make them talk, provided that we find the correct orifice for a hot poker to invade. They always talk when the poker comes into play!"

The prince appears genuinely disinterested in the captain's offer, but accepts the idea out of wanting to get a few answers for himself. "Take a moment get ready while the rest of these dipshits start looking to throw themselves into the pile. Maybe those two-leggers will run out of their weapons faster or something."

"At once! I'll go make myself presentable!" The captain gleefully responds before calling to the entire gathering. "COMPANY! DISMISSED!"

Immediately, everyone starts to depart and go back to their assigned preparations. The prince notices that the undead still remains in his position. He calls to the rest of the enlisted contingent scattered about. "See!? Didn't even fucking move! He's way too disciplined for you stupid fucks! Private, attention!" The undead snaps back to his position. "Fall out!" As ordered, he wanders away. "Hey, where you going off to!"

"Sorry sir, just looking to do better about my hygiene somehow. The captain left us with no water for ourselves, but I'm sure he has enough for himself."

"Yeah, well get to it then! Gotta keep these others in line somehow! You'll be in charge when that dumb fuck of a captain's gone."

Nondis eyes the departing captain trailing off to his quarters and nods slowly. "I'll get right on that, sir."

After spending about fifteen minutes navigating the halls of the ship, Nondis gradually reaches the catwalk leading into the captain's quarters. Once he gets to the door, he pretends to knock with his magic, only to let a small bit of his aura to slip through the lock and out the other side to find the latch to allow himself inside. He pulls the door open from inside to make it appear as if he's being let in, and enters the room.

He closes the door behind himself and looks around the room to see an assortment of accommodations and accoutrements. The wine barrel the captain summoned earlier rests against the wall beside the captain's desk. The glasses, a total of twenty in varying shapes and sizes, sit in a display cabinet. There's also a bookshelf with a number of reading materials, some bookmarked with photographs of an explicit nature. He also notices a vent running along the top of the room with fresh heat radiating from it.

"Oh, so he's living it up while the rest of us have one vent to a room of five hundred. This fucker's is just shipping us out for insurance claims at this point." He notes to himself as he listens to a shower running in the adjacent room. "Won't be for long though."

In a quick bid to retrain for an ability or two, he goes for the easier of the many spells in his repertoire. He pulls out a thread of the corpse's magic, trying to form a dagger of the aura. It takes a few tries, but the results solidify quickly and he's gained a steady grasp of the time limit he's due for using it. And with hardly any emotion in his being, he stealthily sneaks into the bathroom, where the captain stands in a steamy room.

The corpse creeps ever closer, gliding across the bathroom with silence. But one thing gives him away. "What the hell is that smell?" The curtains to the shower quickly slide open to reveal the confused captain. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

The aura conjured meets with the stallion's neck, piercing through flesh and bone alike. "Sodomizing." The undead replies as he withdraws the formed weapon and reapplies it to the stallion's chest. He closes the distance between them and keeps his mouth covered as he injects the barely corporeal dagger into his body. "Tearing you a new orifice." He also stabs in in the trachea, removing all further possibility of speaking. "Sorry if that one seems hard to breathe through. But you shouldn't be too worried about that now."

With a desperate but weak fight, the captain slumps down into the tub, the warm water running his blood down the drain.

"Shhh, just let it happen. Embrace it. After all, it's an honor to die for this country."

After the successful assassination of the captain, Nondis makes a quick bid to bleed the body out as quickly as possible, using the almost endless supply of water from the shower. While his rage towards the stallion further drives his desire to inhabit the newly deceased vessel, he takes solace in the fact that he will be the one taking his place.

As he transfers his consciousness from one to the other, he feels a snappier response to all of his senses and functions. From the way his limbs move to the manner in which he can cast spells, each attribute being a class significantly higher than the previous vessel. Though teleportation proves to be an arduous task for the unpracticed mind.

In using a teleportation spell, he relocates himself and the corpse off to somewhere nearby the ship. And in his brief disappearance, he quickly digs a hole for the former vessel to rest within. He gives a final farewell to the well-served vessel, covers his body with dirt and snow, and teleports back to the room to take yet another shower to make up for what he just finished.

About less than an hour later, he joins the prince and his party for the time being, venturing off to the cultist forward operating base. Upon discovering that much of the base is actively located at the foot of a mountain and burrowed underground, he starts to actively take notes of his surroundings, as well as mapping out the layout of every hall and room he sees, further adding to the wealth of knowledge he wishes to compile during his visit.

It doesn't go unnoticed by the cult leader. "Sir, what are you doing?"

"Taking initiative, of course. Mapping out the tunnels, to be more specific. Would be inconvenient if my troops were coming to reinforce and not have any knowledge of where to go. So if we're going to be of some help, then I might as well follow the layout of those who's already established the front. What we do is what you do, where we go is where you go, and what we defend is yours to defend. Nothing more, nothing less."

The cult leader nods at the show of solidarity, as well as the care shown for the captain's forces. "I see he's at least somewhat competent." He glances back to the young prince. "Much better than the last generals your country has sent over. He seems to do his due diligence in trying to study our adversary instead of looking to initially show overwhelming force."

"I'll admit, he's proving to be better than a bunch of kiss-asses who use their favors from the old fart for political grandstanding. But can we really blame them? They're so used to going virtually unopposed that they just run straight in. The main reason why the earlier contingents are mostly dead now is because they went against some new shit and didn't think to look into what they were doing." The prince replies with a yawn. "But at least they made it interesting for me since I got to see their ships get blown out of the sky by whatever the hell they have."

"Their deaths were a necessary scouting report." The captain replies. "In their ambitions, they've learned fate. But in their stupidity, we've acquired wisdom and information. Now we move forward with what's been left to us."

"A good way to see it." The cult leader responds. "We see eye-to-eye, you and I."

As the group moves along, they come to a cavernous room with six humans gagged and blindfolded, their wrists tied to their ankles. Nondis takes a mental note of their condition, seeing how tightly the ropes dig into their skin, still dressed in their uniforms. He also notes a lack of showers and baths on the way in.

"Well, here they are! Good and ready to be tortured." The prince calls out proudly. "Though it's a bummer that we don't have hot pokers around here. There's a fire in the general assembly area, but that's to keep the grunts warm. Maybe you'd be interested in taking this out there so that we could make it a real spectacle! Who knows, even a little embarrassment can go a long way to these creatures, even get them to confess about what they know."

"That won't be necessary." The captain replies as he uses his magic to lift one of them. But as realizes that the body's magic concentration is nowhere near as strong as his, the human is significantly harder to lift with his magic output. Not only that, but a spark of the side-effects of using teleportation magic manifests in a painful migraine that severs his connection temporarily. The others look with questioning stares before Nondis.

"Dammit, this guy's got some magic spells, but he's got virtually no magic endurance worth a damn. Just me teleporting to and from got me messed up. I'm gonna have to improvise with very little until my magic recovers, and his recovery rate is already looking slow."

He looks around the room to see a number of ways to make matters appealing to the point where intervention isn't needed from the others. An idea comes to mind. "Line all five of the others up. I'll take this one."

"What's so special about the one you picked?" Militades questions.

"I plan to make him watch. He'll tell me everything I need to know, that's if he doesn't want his friends to suffer." He says as he removes the blindfold and drags him across to the other side of the room. The stallion smiles as he leans down to whisper to the creature almost thrice his size. "Don't respond to anything I say. Work with me, I'm trying to save you. Now I'm gonna rough up your friends, but when I say 'Nihongo Jouzu', you tell them how to make the guns explode, not work. Remember, 'Nihongo Jouzu' is your activation phrase. But first off..."

The human's eyes widen before he's suddenly shoved onto his glutes and forced to sit in attendance for the torture. Nondis manifests the aura shape spell to turn his magic into a metaphysical whip. He cracks his whip on the human's back, gaining no response from the initial swings. So he changes his target to the less-armored extremities of his ankles and wrists, gaining a much more vocal response from the man.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT YOU GOT ON!? DOES THAT PROTECT YOU!? IS THAT WHAT YOU WEAR!?" He whips the ropes on the human's wrists and legs once more, breaking the bonds that keep him subjugated. "TAKE THAT SHIT OFF, NOW!"

Obviously the human rebels, but with each action, Nondis is keenly aware of any human movements and mannerisms, as well as the varying pressure points he can use to subjugate the human quickly. He starts by ripping the boots and socks off of the human's feet with his whip, and strikes at his feet before screaming another order of compliance. The human tries to charge at the pony, but the whip snags at his ankles, easily ensnaring him. As he looks to fight back, another whip forms to rip the gloves off and smacks him firmly on the back of his palm.

"You think you can outsmart me!? TAKE THAT SHIT OFF!" The soldier does as order out of fear of being struck at again. But before he can do much of anything else, the second whip snags at his right wrist and bends his arm behind his back with a twisting motion. The man screams as he bends over in subjugation. "Yeah that feels great, don't it? Next time you run from me, I'll make sure you suffer long and hard. I don't know what this is, but I'll break it real good. Now be a good boy and stay there." Nondis turns to the others, giving orders to the cult leader and the prince. "That thing on their chest seems to be armor of some sort. Pull it off, expose their bodies."

The prince grins widely as he grows into unquenchable excitement. "Where the hell have you been in our command chain?" He turns to Rhapsody and asks her. "Hey, when you were helping with the interrogation of these guys, did any of them respond like they did today?"

"No sir." She replies, doing the task of the prince so that he steers clear of participation and simply observes.

It takes a concentrated effort, but the vests eventually come off. As they line the five men up, each with their backs turned towards the imperial party, Nondis calls back to the one he has singled out on the other side of the room. "I'll give you the opportunity to spare all of your friends the shame of being whipped like cattle, that is if you tell me how exactly those weapons of yours work."

Each of the captives call out to their brother in arms. "Don't you dare tell them anything, Millsap! These dumbasses will probably just shoot themselves anyways!"

"Over or under on if they get one of their own guys killed fucking around!"

"I got my MRE's for two whole meals on four deaths!"

"Shit, that puts me in debt! Can't I just say I got my stash of weed back in the locker!?"

"You're betting the greens!? How many blunts can you roll with that shit?"

"Bout seven now."

"Bet!" The separated soldier calls out. "I call seven dead!"

Nondis, in seeing the six humans interacting in high spirits, takes immense pride in their resilience. "Now that's what I'm talking about. Keep your heads up, don't make it easy. I'll figure something out for you all to get out of this somehow. But right now, I need all the shit-talking you boys can push out."

"Oh, so you're a bunch of tough guys, huh?" The prince comments on the humans. "Huh, kinda wish we had forces like that in our camp. That's what morale looks like, not that weak look all of our centuries give off every time they go off to battle. Each of these guys look like they've done a fair share of killing themselves. I can't help but wonder, did they kill their own at any point before coming here?"

"Well one thing's for certain. They've sure killed a lot of ours." Rhapsody replies.

The prince gets comfortable as one of his captains raises his whip. "Oh yeah, I sure hope they break slow."

Three hours later...

As planned, the humans lasted for over two hours, cracking unflinching insults with maximum creativity, eliciting painful laughter from the young prince. By the time Nondis was halfway done, he had to fake a bathroom break to get some of the giggles out of his system. But as time progressed, the plan he discussed with the one he separated came to fruition, and even his other fellow captives went right along with it once they realized the instructions given were far from genuine. At the conclusion of matters, the captain feigned his reason of absence to manage the contingent he came with.

But in truth, Nondis is already looking to take his crudely drawn map to the Crystal Empire. The only thing that seems to put his plan in jeopardy is the growing snowstorm replenishing the soft white blanket coating much of the land and mountain range. The storm gets so intense at times that he has to shield his eyes from the flurry of massive snowflakes.

"Well the session lasted way too long for what I was willing to put up with. But thankfully, forming tools and weapons out of one's aura isn't too much of a taxing spell in terms of demand. I just hate that I had to put our boys through the wringer like that, but it wouldn't have been convincing if I held back... And I said it would be a cold day in hell before I do some shit like that to another fellow human."

*snnnk*

A spear lands in the snow just a few feet away from the captain. While in his operating mind, he thinks nothing of it, but the donor brain quickly informs him of the spear's functionality. "Fuck!" He dives headlong into the snow, waiting for only a second before the weapon explodes. The pats around, trying to see what's still attached, but not realizing that there's an alicorn figure landing right before him, holding another spear of similar function. While the blinding snow reduces visibility, the thin frame of the alicorn quickly gives away her identity. "Oh, it's you."

The mare bears her weapon upon the figure before realizing it's one of her nation's officers. "You." She replies coldly, not an ounce of surprise nor a welcome in her voice.

Scraping the thoughts of the borrowed body he possesses, Nondis feigns the captain's typical response. "Your highness, I bid you greetings in this frozen─" The blade of the spear bears it's edge but a few inches away from the stallion's muzzle. "...wasteland?"

"State your purpose." Zenobia orders sternly.

Raising his hooves as a show of submission, the caption questions her in return. "Your majesty, I must ask, what is yours?"

"My reasons are my own. But you will tell me why you, one of the most chauvinistic, disgusting, selfish, sadistic, and incompetent bastard has been issued to these frozen wastes."

"Things are not as they seem, your highness." Nondis replies in the typical show of groveling the captain is known for. He rises to stand, with a bit of his magic shifting the flattened scroll in his coat pocket. With a bit of manipulation, he loses the scroll to the snow in a bid of clumsiness. "Forgive me, for I have dropped some important matters."

"What is this?" The mare snatches the scroll before the officer could vie to reach for it. She opens the scroll, narrowing her eyes to the crudely drawn content. "This may be horrible, but even I understand this is a map. What is it for?"

Again, he plays into the persona of the captain a bit longer. "Your majesty, perhaps you would be more than kind enough to inform me as to why your excellency has been assigned to these frozen wastes? Please, we have warmth in the airship─"

The spear in her magic finds the nape of his neck, giving his skin a slight graze. "I say for the last time, my matters are my own. Now you will leave this place, or die."

Realizing she's not short on fulfilling threats, Nondis sheds the persona and simply speaks to her as he would in person, with smug expression and confident composure. "Your majesty, this one's already dead." As the spear grazes into the skin of his neck, little blood spills from the wound. He also grabs the spear and nestles it into his jugular with a smile. "See if this one was alive, he'd be spilling blood like there's no tomorrow. This is just one of the many stunts your 'Doctor' could pull off without complications."

"My doctor?" Her eyes widen as she's prompt to realize who she's encountered. "You're..."

"Zenobia, I see you're doing well. Then again, this kind of weather is something you lot are used to over at Midnight Castle. Same terrain, weather, snowfall, and almost year-round cold."

"There's no way that it's you." She says as she lowers her spear, seeing the damage of her weapon.

"Seriously, I'm prancing about in someone else's body while being shacked away in some reeducation center in Midnight Castle, I think the locals call it 'the Bastille'. I just got through torturing six of our guys. I'd be sick to this asshole's stomach if it wasn't for the fact that our boys were so damn morale-driven that they crack jokes for the better part of three hours. Resilient bunch, Alex really has a way of picking 'em."

"You probably took it easy on them."

Nondis nods. "Yeah, you're not wrong about that. What this dead asshole was going to do to them was much worse. Had to pick him off before our boys got what they didn't deserve."

"So you say six of them?" She verifies. "Definitely soldiers of Sir Alex's contingent. He did make a note of there being some missing in action."

"Well I found them. And that map I dropped reveals everything about their base. Where we now stand, there's a tunnel to your right, about seventy paces away from you. All of the tunnels are equine based except for one. Follow that one, you'll find our boys. Go armed, and ready for close quarters combat. Let Alex know there will also be a red airship not too far off, with a white X marked on the top of the dirigible. Do not hit that ship. That is the one I'm using. It's full of guys all wanting to be with with their loved ones, forced conscriptions."

"I'm not surprised about that. My father loves to crack down on any and all elements of opposition to his way of doing things."

"So I've seen." He replies with a mum voice. "You know, whoever's in charge of your country after him, they'll need to do what they can to appease that underground population before it gets any uglier than what I'm going to make it. I honestly thought I'd have to do some serious work to start a revolution there, turns out I might not have to do that much after all."

"Why did I figure that you'd be doing something along the lines of that?" The mare chuckles nervously. "No matter. Do what you must to cause confusion. The more the home front experiences discourse, the shorter this conflict will prove to be."

"The more you could prove yourself to be a better player for Ponyland's future." He replies.

"I wouldn't quite go that far." She rolls her eyes. "You know mares don't have a say in our governance."

"Yeah, until they pawn all the shit they don't feel like doing off on you." Zenobia looks back at the smirking cadaver with surprise. "Don't give me that look, Spike's always been transparent when it comes to you."

Feeling a warmth in her heart for the dragon, she takes a deep breath and summons a roll of medical gauss. "You'll need this for your neck. Can't go walking about with that not healing."

"Gotta love a team player." Nondis replies as he starts to tend to his neck. "Oh yeah, tell Alex when he asks about that map and who gave it to you, just give him this message for me. 'You're out here leading an army in real life, but can't even play the campaign on legendary difficulty.' Watch him get mad defensive, he always does."

"They always say there's no worse an enemy than your own sibling." The mare replies with a chuckle, followed by a shivering chill. "I suppose I'll be going now. It's a bit too cold for my liking."

"Stay warm!" He calls out.

As the captain finishes dressing his wound, he chortles softly with a thought. "Meanwhile I've got natures freezer to keep this body in good condition. We're already off to a good start. I should get back near the ship, though. Protective orders only help when they're applied with speed, and I've got a lot of painting to do."

The Bastille Midnight Castle, Ponyland...

Coming back into his own body, the first thing he sees as he wakes up is the sight of a fresh bowl of jellied eels placed in front of him. Instantly, he turns his head to the side with vitriolic disgust. What was once a platter of about four of them has now turned into a dozen of the questionable dish.

"Bleurgh, more of these jellied eels. Guess they did their fair share of fucking around and finding out then. No matter, I'll just starve until the survival serum kicks in. Though while I'm at it..."

Nondis immediately comes to another idea, using his magic to separate the bone shards from the jellied eels, then porting them down to the caves below. His gambit is to make it appear to the guards that he's eating the meals given, and then feign sickness to get something better in his diet, knowing that they won't look to watch him die in their prison. They won't possibly kill the one that's the last link of their deity to the living world, so they'll supplement him on occasion. He comes to that conclusion, but another voice rings in his mind from a far away place.

"Nondie... Come home."

Deep down, he wishes to adhere to that message long sent. But he closes his eyes and tunes himself to comply at a later date. "I know babe. I'll come back home, just let me finish up here first. I promise I'll be back then."

"Come home."

"...Not until I talk some sense into him, not till our boys get back home. Not till all of this is done. If I need to be the monster I hate being to bring peace, then so be it."

"Come home, Nondie... Please."

With yet another dive into another corpse, he sadly postpones the request of his wife.

"Love you, hun. See you soon."