Rider on the Storm

Sweet mother o’ mercy, was Canterlot fucking ugly.

It wasn’t just the brownish-gray, buttfuck ugly storm cloud blotting the sun out, either; there was a big radius of freshly lit fires and ruined buildings extending outwards from where the King’s super-airship had docked. Now, despite appearances, your boys were a well-trained and restrained bunch that wouldn’t sack the city to this degree, not unless you ordered them to. His beasts, on the other hand, were traditionally-minded Viking-style loot-and-pillage types. Maybe if you were running a guerrilla op or a terror cell, that’d be a good thing. But right now? Your needs called for soldiers. And this was one tradition you could certainly live without.

“So he actually showed up on time?” Tempest all but groans, reflecting just how unhappy you were.

“’Fraid so,” you huff. “Because of course he would.”

“Fine,” she huffs as well, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Let’s.”

The pair of you tear your eyes away from the freshly fuglified scenery and make for the command nest first. Tempest grabs the intercom and orders the loading bay to get Twilight prepped for transport, while you stand beside Grubber and borrow his intercom to get the guard detail for the princess convoy ready. With a few innocuous sounding code phrases thrown in to make sure the bestest of loyal boys were on duty.

“Alright,” you address Grubber after hanging up the intercom. “Feel free to take a load off once we dock, lil’ G.”

“Yessir!” he happily salutes.

“But keep your eyes peeled,” you remind him with a parental tone. “We ain’t seen the last of the princess’s compadres, not by a long shot.”

“Yessir!” he repeats.

With that out of the way, you leave him to execute the docking manoeuvres while you and Tempest head down below deck to get to the loading bay. Funnily enough, she winds up taking the long way down instead of using the elevator. You had a hunch as to why, and that hunch was confirmed midway through the descent, when her tail wrapped around your arm and she pulled you into the first empty room she saw. Next thing you knew, you were shoved against the wall of a broom closet with your tippity-top-tier co-op partner pressing her snout right against your nose, breathing heavily with her lips a hair away from your own, and with a major case of bedroom eyes to match.

Ain’t gonna complain about where this is going, but sheesh. She must really have been looking forward to crash testing those beds if she’s all worked up like this!

“You have no idea,” she half-grumbles, half-moans, “How much I was looking forward to trying out those beds.”

Hah, score one for mind-reading!

“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea, babe,” you reply, matching her growing smile with one of yours as you lightly pat her barrel. “We’ll have to reschedule.”

“And make up for lost time,” she all but whispers, moving her hooves from your chest to your shoulders while you semi-reflexively hold her close and steady.

“What didja have in mind?” you grin, voice low and with a dangerous edge.

She meets the danger head-on, quite literally, by closing the rest of the distance and kissing you. There was nothing tender about it, either; it was forceful, needy, and spoke of a mare who seriously needed some lovin’ right this moment.

“A whole day,” she breathes, diving back in for another smooch after each sentence. “For each bed. And endless. Options. For renewal.”

“Oh Lawd have mercy,” you chuckle, one hand cradling the back of her head. “I’ve created a monster.”

Her next kiss ends with her tugging on your lip as she pulls away, an almost drunken little giggle escaping her as she presses her nose against yours again. “You’ve always had a talent for bringing out the worst in me.”

“Guilty as charged,” you smile wickedly, tone dripping with sinful intentions as you steel your grasp on her and hold her gaze. “And I plan to take full responsibility for it.”

You deny her the chance at a response by way of mashing your lips together. What ensued was several uninterrupted minutes of the two of you furiously making out in the closet like a pair of horny teenagers. And she was really getting into it, too! But you guess that’s what a long period of virtual exile will do to a gal. That’s still fucking criminal as far as you’re concerned. Seriously, what kind of flaming gaylord turns down some prime hotness like this over a broken horn? Or were stallions just as fruity as their colour schemes made them out to be?

Well, just means there’s more for you, don’t it? Shit, speaking of fruits, you’re gonna need a lot more of those in your diet for the next week or two. Along with meat n’ eggs. Do they even have meat in ponyland? Great, now you’re stuck thinking about logistics. Well done, you.

“Hey,” you interrupt with no shortage of reluctance. “As much as I’d love to keep warmin’ up for our private time, we’re still on a schedule here.”

“You’re right,” she sighs, fighting to keep her smile from wilting. “But just so you know, I’ll be expecting much more of this in the future.”

“Guess I’ll have lots to look forward to then,” you chuckle.

Smile saved. Smooth operator as usual, Anon. Without another word, she gets one last lip-dragging peck in before falling back to all fours and straightening her mane back out, the two of you exiting the closet and resuming your course down below in relative silence as if nothing had ever happened. Well, she was walking next to you a fair bit closer than before, so there’s that.

Which gave you plenty of time to put some more thought into just what you were going to do with your S-tier co-op partner here. And not just about what you were going to do to her once you two got busy doing enough testing to put Aperture Science out of business.

Nope, these thoughts were all of the business variety, sad as it is to say.

At the end of the day, you’re a professional Sith Lord, and with that comes the reality of Dark Side sensibilities. You won’t lie, it’d be super cool to keep her on board with you as part of Team Evil, and not just because of her awakening talents in the sack; she’s got the smarts and the strength - both physical and magical - to make for a seriously valuable teammate going forward. And that’s all on top of the great team playing spirit that’s been cultivated as of late!

But alas, the chances of her staying aboard are low, thanks to that pesky calculus of the Dark Side rearing it’s ugly head once again. Too much would have to go right for her to permanently flip sides, and you’d need a serious amount of luck on your side to push that through: luck that you simply don’t have right now. You hadn’t forgotten that she was a good girl at heart, and was only in this game to get her magic bits reattached. That put you at a major disadvantage.

Now, you could use the Staff of Sacanas to give fixing her up the ol’ college try, but if you’re being honest? Even after reading the old books on it that Wedge and Cid had to really work to dig up, you still have no idea if the thing is even capable of re-horning her. The thing very much struck you as the ‘pure destruction’ kind of evil magical artifact, a theory that solidified further after reading through both the manual and the history behind it. And as fucking stupid as he is, even the King would have to know that too, no doubt playing off of Tempest’s ignorance to string her along. On the other hand, nobody who’s used the Staff before actually tried to use it to do fix’er-upp’in; they were usually more concerned with living out their chaotic evil ‘destroy fucking everything’ fantasies through it.

But if it does work? Shit, that might be the deciding factor between her sticking with you or fighting against you once the real final showdown begins. Because come the fuck on, the King’s not the final boss here; he’s a mid-boss at best, the kind that’ll be pure pleasure to stomp into dust once he unknowingly gives you near-ultimate power. The real fight’s gonna be between the Elements, and you’ve known that since first reading the dossier on them.

Man, you’d love to have Tempest back you up for that battle. But sadly, high-contact bedroom sports and good girls always going for bad guys can only take you so far. No matter how much your entirely deserved ego might protest to the contrary. And a tactical ‘perfect the way you are’ speech won’t cut it either, no matter how much you might mean it.

Which you absolutely do, let the record show.

But nevermind all that right now, you’ve just arrived at the loading bay.

In the middle of the well-guarded bay sat Twilight’s cage, loaded up onto the big flatbed cart for the trip through the city. A trio of captured and muzzled ponies were strapped to the cart, and she looked to be in the middle of trying in vain to talk some sense into your grinning and slightly glassy-eyed personal servant in training, who made up the middle pony of the trio. But that came to a sudden, ear-folding stop once she realized you and Tempest had entered the scene, scared little gasp and all.

“All right then, baby girl!” you announce with a clap of your hands. “Ya ready to file for magical bankruptcy today, or what?”

To her credit, she recovers from the shock of seeing you pretty quickly, sucking in some confidence as she takes a breath of air.

“You’re the only one,” she states plainly.

“Huh? Only one’a what?”

“The only one I don’t understand,” she frowns, her voice taking on a pleading undertone. “Why, mister Anonymous? Why are you doing all of this?”

“You know,” you chortle, “If you were planning on sweet-talking your way outta having us collectivize your magic, you should probably start by asking something I’ve haven’t already answered twice by now.”

“You told me what you were doing. Not why.”

“Nope,” you click. “I told you that, too. Weren’tcha payin’ attention?”

“I was. Enough attention to know that you weren’t being honest.” Her glare takes on a hard edge as a smile creeps onto your face alongside your rising eyebrow. “So let me qualify my question, mister Anonymous. Why are you really doing this?”

We-he-hell. Not gonna lie, you don’t usually have captives that still keep their nerve. This should be fun!

“Say whaaat?” you recoil in mock hurt, hand over heart. “You think that moi was being dishonest?”

“I think you’ve been dishonest since before you even came here. Lying by omission, if you care for specificity.”

“Which I do, since language is very important!” you chirp. “But really though, what would ever give you that idea? Y’know, besides the whole ‘being evil’ thing?”

“Your cypher powers.”

You blink. “My what, now?”

“You’re a cypher, mister Anonymous,” she continues, voice and posture firm. “And a very powerful one at that. You’d have to be, in order to leech even the alicorn magic from my spell. But you never told anypony about your condition. In fact, you’ve been actively hiding it from them, haven’t you?”

“’Cypher’?” Tempest interrupts, her head tilted slightly. “I’ve never heard of that before. Is that what his powers are called?”

“Yes,” she answers promptly, deadly serious yet still internally scrambling to piece the big picture together. “Though it’s a condition more than it is a skill, and it’s a very rare one that only occurs in creatures from outside of Equestria. Cyphers can steal the magic out of spells and enchantments, turning it into power and strength. Very powerful ones,” - her eyes flick to you - “can even redirect it into spells of their own.”

“Mmm-hmm,” you confirm with a nod, grinning anew. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d know about that already, seeing how you’re a big magic nerd and all.”

To be honest, you had no idea what your weird powers were when you first got here, but man alive did it feel good to use ‘em. Still does, in fact! Though you didn’t learn what they were called until the Abyssinians threw you in jail, and you didn’t learn all the ins and outs of what they did until Cid and Wedge dug up the books on it for you. But man, the secret training you did to get your crazy magic vampire powers up to snuff for your plans was something you’d never forget. Hell, you’re smiling even more already just thinking back to it!

Plus, it gave you license to name your elite black ops team XOF once you’re in charge. So that’s a big plus!

“My point being,” Twilight continues, unnerved by how well you’re taking this, “You’ve kept your condition a secret from everypony. You stuck to using your enhanced physical abilities for the entire time you’ve been chasing us, just so that you could keep the charade going. It was only after I attacked you with magic that you decided to reveal your condition. And I remember very clearly how shocked everypony around you looked when you turned my magic against me.”

Man, the dossier said she was a smart cookie, but sheesh. She’s getting really close to figuring out parts of your plan! Not that you really care, since your contingencies cover things getting revealed too early. So, continuing to smile, you motion for her to continue, genuinely interested in where she’s going with this.

“But that’s what I don’t understand. Why hide your condition like that? Especially when it’s strong enough to counter alicorn magic?”

“Ahh, that’s the sixty-four dollar question, isn’t it?,” you intone, smiling darkly at her. “Why did I keep it under wraps?”

Her confidence noticeably droops upon seeing your reaction, the gal clearly not expecting you to be daring her to dig deeper. But alas, as much as you would’ve liked to hear Twilight puzzle things out more and tickle your inner Bond villain under his chin by doing so, Tempest had other ideas.

“Yes, yes, this has all been a very educational distraction,” Tempest cuts in, “But we have a schedule to keep, and some magic to acquire.”

“Tempest, wait!” Twilight exclaims, not happy about things getting back on track. “There’s something wrong here! I don’t know what he’s planning, but Anonymous is--”

“I don’t know why he hid his powers from me,” she interrupts, trotting over towards the button for opening the bay doors. “And to be honest, I couldn’t care less. Whatever his reasons, I’m sure they were good ones.”

That’s quite the understatement. Your flashy powers did have weaknesses, after all. There was a reason the Abyssinians were able to catch you back then. And a reason Twiggles McGee keeps calling it a ‘condition’.

“And you actually believe that? You actually trust him?!”

Her hoof pauses above the button, the mare it was attached to contemplating that question for a second. Her eyes drift over towards your smiling face, and there was this soft, almost vulnerable quality to her gaze as you met it.

“Oddly enough,” she somewhat quietly remarks, “I do.”

A very dumb thing to say in this biz. Heartwarming, adorable, and the exact right kinda cliché to your ears, but still super dumb. But hey, she is a good girl at heart, so it fits. Either way, she hits the switch and gets the door opening up, much to Twilight’s increasing despair. And actually, you know what? You just thought of a way to fuck with her some more!

“Ohhh,” you exclaim, sidling up next to Twilight’s cage with a knowing smirk, much to her confusion. “I get it now! You were playing some 4D mindgames to try and get us to fight one another, weren’tcha?”

“Wh-what?!” she splutters, taken aback. “No, I wasn’t--!”

“Shh, shh-shh-shh, you don’t have to be so modest. It was a great idea, really! Almost had us, too! You deserve at least a little credit for that!”

“Anon, stop antagonizing her,” Tempest chides insincerely from beside you, the smirk audible in her tone.

Okay, yep, that’s definitely her tail wrapping around your leg, just out of everyone’s view.

“Oh fine,” you huff, every bit as insincere as her. “Ruin my fun again, why don’tcha?”

“Come on,” she smiles with a roll of her eyes, “The sooner this is over with, the sooner we can relax.”

Pffft. Relaxing after the fact, maybe. But the before and during were gonna be real exhausting. And every bit as enjoyable.

The big cargo bay door finally opened to it’s full measure, the loading ramp extending down and further cracking the stone tile floor of the already pretty ruined looking city. The ponies needed little prompting to start pulling the cart along, and the bay guards all fell into an escort pattern around your little convoy as it left.

All the while, Twilight continued to rack her brain, desperately trying to figure out just what you were up to. A lot of things was the answer, and the long-term plans were already handled and set to take place way outside of Equestria. Which very much included all of the necessary preparations for Plan B, should things come to it. Which, in all likelihood, they will.

But hey, at least you’ve set the stage for that unfortunate happenstance! And made some killer friends and allies for it, too! The basilisks alone were a wonderful addition to the group, but in retrospect? You’re starting to think that you might’ve blown all of your limited luck on them.

Oh well, nothing for it but to move forward and trust your plans.

After a few minutes of convoying through the city - and passing by some light-coloured singer pony in a cage that seemed more important than she actually was - a pair of elite storm beasts rolled up on you from the front. That would have been concerning, if they weren’t wearing the super secret pins identifying them as your bestest of boys. Still in character, they ask you to come with them for a moment, drawing a quizzical look from Tempest that you placate with a reassuring smile.

“Go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a bit,” you say to her before turning towards your two top boys. “Seems like my work’s never done.”

With that, you peel off from the group, and catch Twilight’s expression morphing into a picture-perfect, terror-stricken ‘penny drop’ moment before you round a corner with your two champs and lose sight of her.

“Alright, I’ll admit it, I missed you two,” you say, drawing a laugh out of Biggs. “I assume you’ve been keeping busy while I’ve been gone?”

Biggs confirms as much, but Cid gives you hard details. Before the Storm King rolled into town, the boys had black-bagged every remaining storm beast that wasn’t singing your tune, just as you’d ordered. And Cid made it a top priority to black-bag the loyalists from his ship once he had the free reign to do so, achieving that goal in a matter of hours. Sadly, he did it stealthy, which meant letting his beasts fuck up the city even more, explaining why the place looked like hot dogshit. Biggs was quick to clarify that he helped a lot with the work, and Cid responds to that with a roll of his eyes. Cid then goes over their standing orders to capture you. That certainly was an interesting approach, but ultimately you think you’ll just settle on walking in like a normal person. Still, always nice to have options!

It’s not very long before the two bring you to a small congregation of other storm beasts, with Wedge waiting there with them. Both him and the others all perk up at seeing you, and some start to cheer and whoop, almost as hyped as you were for the upcoming long living of the king.

“From what I’ve been told,” you open up, wasting no time, “You’ve all done an amazing job back on the homefront. And believe you-me, the reward ceremony’s gonna be fucking grand once we hit that point. But!” - your hand extends out in a ‘stop’ gesture - “That’s just it, fellas. We’ve gotta hit that point first. Now, I assume you ladies are all ready to dance?”

Even Wedge was cheering with them, in spite of his timid nature. And really, how could he not?

“Good, because the music’s about to start,” you grin wickedly. “Here’s the plan.”

At the palace...

“Tempest, please!” Twilight continues to beg, even after being left all alone with her in the throne room. “This is insane! You can’t really think that--!”

“Can you fix me, then?”

“Wh-- huh?”

“You heard me,” she states quite plainly, idly examining her hoof. “Fix my horn right now, and I’ll be more than happy to hear you out. Can you do that?”

“But--! N-no! Nothing can--!”

“Then it’s time for you to share all that magic of yours,” she chuckles, turning away from the desperate princess. “And it’s about time everybody knew what I can really do.”

“Ooh, fascinating!” came the all-too-familiar voice of the Storm King.

Tempest looked over towards the thrones, seeing the Storm King himself step through the curtain doors leading to the outside balcony. The Staff of Sacanas was clutched in his grasp, still rather menacing in appearance despite it’s unpowered state.

Good, the gang’s all here. Time to stop creeping through the door crack and make your entrance proper.

“What can you really do?” he continues, all condescending-like.

“Your bidding, of course,” Tempest answers, trying her damndest to hide her trepidation.

“Bidding’s good,” he replies, completely oblivious to her true feelings as he walks over to the circle of royalty. “I like bidding! In fact--”

His speech gets cut off by the doors to the throne room being shoved open by yours truly, requiring no help at all from the attendant guards outside. But only because you asked nicely to solo them. Right away, you can see the Storm King’s expression morph into surprise and alarm upon seeing you walk in without your ‘captors’. Tempest looked relieved to see you, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. As for Twilight? Well, she looked like she couldn’t decide between being more shit-scared of you, or the King.

The answer is you, obviously. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“There you are,” Tempest greets. “What took you so long?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you laugh, wearing your smile like a high-end tuxedo. “Funny story, actually. I’ll tell you later, aight?”

“Fine by me,” she shrugs.

“You,” the King hisses, not even bothering to hide his fury. “You’ve got some nerve, showing your face before me!”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, feigning innocence and tilting your head a bit. “Ain’t it my job to see this through to the end?”

“Don’t you dare try to play dumb with me!” he shrieks, summoning a small orb of lightning in his free hand.

“Ohhhhhh,” you exclaim, snapping your fingers in faux realization. “That’s why I was being held up back there! So those boys didn’t go rogue after all then, huh?”

“Wait,” Tempest interjects, thoroughly confused. “What’s going on here?”

“Welp, guess I gotta tell that funny story now, then,” you shrug, cutting the King off from saying his piece. “Remember those guards that called me away on the trip up, Tempie?”

“Yes?”

“They attacked me!” you lie, arms flailing up into the sky to hammer the point home. “Straight-up fuckin’ jumped me in the alleyway!”

“Wait a minute, they what?!” she exclaims.

“Yeah, I know, right? And they had friends, too! Good thing I’m so goddamn good at my job, otherwise I’d be in a heap’a trouble!”

“But, why would they do that?”

“Mmmm, think I figured that out now. See, one’a them told me they were under orders to capture me before they passed out.” You direct a knowing grin towards a very, very angry Storm King. “And since that dirty fucker Strife ain’t hangin’ around no more, I guess that only leaves you as the guy givin’ those orders, don’t it?”

“Tch. Never send a lackey to do a king’s job,” he spits.

His electrified hand shoots up, hitting you square in the logo on your chest with a bluish magical zap. The bolt turns into a bunch of electric energy chains that snake around your torso and snap tight, keeping your limbs pinned down. Or at least, you pretend that they keep them pinned down. It’s a decent enough spell you guess, but you’ve absorbed much stronger magic before. Just ask Twilight!

“Thought you were so clever, didn’t you?” he snarls, making an attempt to be intimidating as he marches up towards you. “You really thought you could get one over on me, the all-mighty Storm King, didn’t you?”

You don’t answer, instead giving him a shit-eating grin. He responds by winding back and socking you in the gut, but it barely even knocks the wind out of you.

“Aww, what’sa matter, pumpkin?” you mock. “Not enough thundah to hurt me? Need to steal someone else’s first?”

You could see Twilight’s jaw drop in shock at your antics, and Tempest wasn’t doing much better. The King, meanwhile, grabs you by the throat and starts to squeeze with a reasonably strong grip, definitely enough to cut off your airway. Not that you really react to it; you had a good three minutes of oxygen by your count, and he’d get bored after thirty seconds, tops.

“The moment I obtain ultimate power,” he says in a quiet tone that you think is meant to be threatening, “The first thing I will do is reduce you to your constituent atoms. Then we’ll see who has the last laugh, insect.”

“Your excellency, stop it!” Tempest exclaims, sounding much more worried than you’d expected. “What has he done?”

“This filthy, recusant little rat,” he bellows at her, still gripping your throat and punctuating his words with wide swings of his staff, “Has been plotting behind my back! Planning to betray me! Planning to take my kingdom!”

“Oh no,” you barely hear Twilight whimper, whatever working theory on you she was afraid of now apparently confirmed. “He isn’t, he’s not...!”

“He was... going to betray you?” Tempest echoes, as if unsure she’d heard right.

“That’s what I just said!” he screams at her in another bipolar fit of rage, the mare taking a step back as he releases his hold on you and strides towards her, jabbing an accusatory finger towards her. “Did he tell you, Tempest? Did he let you in on his little scheme?”

“N-no,” she half-stammers, looking at you the entire time. “No, he never did.”

Her eyes remained fixed on you, even as the Storm King marches back over to you and starts jabbing you in the sternum.

“Well your little scheme has failed!” he continues to holler, punctuating his words every now and again with another jab. “A sorry little fool like you could never hope to outplan and outplay me! What do you have to say to that, cretin? Any little quips you’d like to share now?!”

In reality, of course, your big scheme was all going according to plan. God, you can’t wait for the big reveal moment. He’s gonna look like such an idiot when his staff doesn’t end up destroying you. It’s gonna make his upcoming destruction all the sweeter.

But once again, you don’t answer him, allowing your shit-eating grin to do the talking for you. Which, naturally, sets him off again.

“Bah! Just one annoying problem after another!” he spits, whirling around and heading towards the circle. “You know what my other problem is? This place! It’s just. Too. Cute! I don’t like cute! Never did like cute! Doesn’t really go with my whole ‘big bad powerful magic guy’ thing, does it?!”

“Neither does being gay,” you snort, “But that doesn’t stop you, now does it?”

You gasp in mock surprise just in time for him to slowly crank his head around to stare at you with pure, malding hatred.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Oh holy shit, you’re in the closet, aren’t you?! That’s why you hate all things cute! Fuck, how did I miss that?”

Pretty sure his anger’s transcended beyond the constraints of the English language, at least if his teeth grinding is anything to go off of. So obviously, that means you need to keep pushing him and see what happens!

“Hey, it’s all right, queen,” you reassure, “I just want you to know that it’s totally cool to swing that way. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a dick sucking, fudge packing faggot--”

“ENOUGH!” he bellows, staff raised overhead. “Your mockery ends here!”

“It’s not mockery, it’s pride! I’m trying to be nice here, you douchelord!”

“This is all just a big joke to you, is that it?!” he snaps back, poised and ready to start stealing some magic.

“How could it not be?” you laugh. “You’re like a walking fountain of material to work with! Totally delusional, up your own ass, and utterly predictable on top of it all? My God in heaven, you make it so easy for me! I love it!”

“Predictable? Predictable?!” he predictably snaps, gripping his staff tightly. “I’ll show you predictable, you wretched, good-for-nothing bastard!”

There was no time to issue him the bastard catchphrase, the big idiot slamming the staff’s ferrule into the middle of the circle too fast for you to react with words. And that’s just not on. Interrupting musical numbers is one thing, but nobody - nobody - interrupts the bastard catchphrase. If you weren’t already planning to murk this loser, you sure as shit would’ve been planning it now.

Won’t lie though, it’s super cool to see the Staff giving it’s crazy Shang Tsung treatment to all of the princesses, especially on the struggling and crying Twilight. Big veins of magic start branching out every which way from all of the princesses as the magic gets vacuumed out of their horns, and you can really feel the magic of the land getting sucked out of the terrain as the staff does it’s thing. It’s pretty swish!

Less fun was seeing the King starting to laugh maniacally at the scene, but that was a problem soon to be solved.

You spare a glance over towards Tempest, who finally tears her wide eyes away from the scene to look at you, too. There was a lot going on in that expression of hers: shock, guilt, confusion, sadness, and an unspoken demand to know just what in the fuck you think you’re doing. Which, of course, you reply to with a confident little wink, elevating the confused part of her look above all the others.

You smile as the King pulls the staff free of the ground with a small shower of sparks. It didn’t look that different from before, the only real difference being the crystal up top glowing and lightly sparking with power, leaving a little trail of energy as it moves around. It was honestly a much more restrained look than the showy Warcraft style you’d been expecting; you kinda dig it! A shame it was being held by a loser like him, but that’s okay. Dirt’s easy to wipe off.

“Oh, wow!” he exclaims, predictably lost in the power of his new toy. “Very nice! Let’s get this storm started! Oh hey, that’s good, I should trademark that.”

Eyup, that one’s going in your cringe compilation. Or, to be more precise, his obituary. See, even poor Twilight over there is cringing from that line! Or is she just collapsing from exhaustion? Hard to tell.

As tired as she is, she does stumble back upright when the King turns towards her, the poor gal having no real time to react as the King points the staff her way. With a roaring FZZAP, it fires a beam of lightning that annihilates the cage and sends her hurtling through the wall leading out onto the balcony, shards of smoking antimagic metal clattering around her along with the usual debris.

“Ohh-ho-ho, yes!” he cheers, twirling the staff around in his grasp. “Not bad at all! Actually, kinda first-rate! Now...”

His gaze becomes much more smouldering - at least, he thinks it does - as he turns his attention to you, the staff giving off a menacing shower of sparks as he gets ready to give you a similar treatment.

“Any last words, traitor?” he snarls, pointing the charged-up staff in your direction.

A derisive laugh comes a’tumblin’ out of you. “I thought you said this was gonna be the first thing you did with ultimate power? I know you’re a dumb fucker, but now you’re telling me that you can’t even count? That’s really sad.”

The taunt landed squarely, and the follow-up lightning bolt landed squarely back.

FZZZZZAP

The bolt caused a lot of things to happen in short order. First, it stung like a motherfucker. Second, it swept away those magic chains like a gale-force wind. Then, it turned your chestplate - made of the same antimagical metal that Twilight’s cage had been made from - into nothing more than smoking, red-hot shards of shrapnel with the accompanying, frag grenade-like BANG. Finally, it blew you through the balcony facing wall as well, but you being you, you expertly roll out onto your feet not all that far from where Twilight had been blasted instead of landing in a heap like she did.

Dusting yourself off, you smile and nod down at your relatively unharmed and lightly steaming jumpsuited torso before you pull you gauntlets off and expose your bare hands to the world, the two platemail articles being the only surviving armour on your upper body. Twilight’s eyes light up with horrified realization upon seeing you further discarding your magical protection, the purple princess all too aware of why you would do such a thing.

That reason being, of course, your magical vampire powers; you needed direct skin contact with magic in order to absorb it properly. Stealing Twilight’s magic back in Klugetown - and borrowing some of Tempest’s for the Mt. Aris pursuit - hurt like a son of a bitch, but not because of the actual power drain; that felt great. No, it hurt because your armour acted like a big fuckoff power resistor shoved into series with it, reducing your stealing efficiency by a hefty amount and heating up a lot as a consequence. In both cases, the amount of power you’d taken heated the plate enough to burn, burn, burn, like a ring o’ fire. It was one of the big reasons you made sure your jumpsuit was of the highly insulating variety, and why you had the same material lining the inside of your gauntlets. Without it, you’d get cooked like a lobster!

Sounds risky and paradoxical, but there were serious advantages to insulating yourself against performing grand theft magicka, not the least of which being counteracting some of the major drawbacks of said thieving talents. Plus, they acted like training weights for your abilities, and damn good ones at that! But right now, you needed the weights off. You’re mighty glad the Storm Dipshit saved you the trouble of taking them off yourself, because now it was time to start barebackin’ his magic. Wouldn’t be the only thing you’ve been barebacking lately!

“This can’t be happening,” Twilight murmurs, “This isn’t happening.”

“Oh, it’s happenin’, all right,” you wink at her, wishing dearly you could summon fire around yourself whenever you dropped lines about things happening.

With an exaggerated swagger in your step, you stride right back through the hole you’d been blasted through, meeting the King’s briefly surprised and then furious glare with a cocksure smirk to match it.

“You call that destroying me?” you openly mock, hands on your hips and all. “I’ve had tickle fights with more punch than that, princess!”

You beat your chest like a gorilla, extending your arms out in the traditional configuration of ‘well, what is it’. The physical taunt was already successful, the guy building up a serious amount of charge in his staff for what you’re certain is going to be a kamehameha blast next. But you still needed a verbal taunt to seal the deal, because tradition demands it.

“C’mon you lil’ pussy bitch,” you continue to taunt, strutting towards him like a pigeon during a game of chess. “Gimmie one with some mustard this time!”

But mostly, it was to keep Twilight from warning him about your powers in time. Not that he’d listen, but better safe than sorry at this critical point in your plan.

“No!” Twilight shrieks, reaching out towards you two as she crawls her way over. “Don’t do it, he’s a cypher! He’s going to--”

Too late, he’s already started blasting.

KA-ZWWWWnnnnnmmm

Your hands clap together and your fingers knit together with them, save for the extended quartet of both pointer and middle fingers. They’re the first point of contact against the violent stream of lightning that slams into you, the impact along with the near hurricane force of the air sending you skidding back along the ground for several feet across several seconds. Had you been wearing your armour for this, the metal would absolutely have started melting off of you after only a few seconds of this kind of exposure. And as badass as that would’ve looked, it also would’ve burned something fierce, and you’d just rather not deal with that additional headache.

At first, the lightning scatters around every which way in random, chaotic arcs that lick across the stone surfaces and mar them with some deep, gnarly gouges all over. But then you flex your abilities proper. And the first thing that hits you is the sensation of the drain. Without armour or clothing to block it’s path, the power felt--

Oooh-hoo-hoo-hoo baybee, yes, here it comes! Here comes the night train!

The beam stops arcing every which way from it’s point of contact, instead coalescing into fine points at your fingertips as it appears to all onlookers to get outright vacuumed into your fingers. You stand to your full measure slowly and deliberately as a toothy smile breaks out across your face, your gaze turning back up towards a now very stupefied looking Storm King. Unable to help yourself, a laugh starts to break out from between your lips as you allow yourself to get lost in the sheer, indescribable influx of arcane might.

“What is this?” the King exclaims, completely taken aback. “What’s going on here?!”

“He’s been planning this from the beginning!” Twilight shouts, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. “He wanted you to try and destroy him, because he knew the staff wouldn’t work against him! No, worse than that, that it would make him even stronger! That’s why he kept his cypher condition a secret!”

“Wait a second, he’s a cypher?!” he replies, his voice cracking at the last word.

Realizing the gravity of the situation and the horrible mistake he’s just made, he cuts off power to the spell. To his increasing horror, you flex the true extent of your arcane vampire skills and fight to keep the magic connection open for longer, forcing the spell to continue casting and managing to both maintain it and continue draining magic for a whole ten seconds before you lose your ‘grasp’ on it and the staff finally stops channelling. His half-panicked flailing of the staff does nothing to help or harm the process, but it was very amusing to witness all the same.

Your laughter, previously elated and upbeat, becomes a full-on evil cackle the moment the drain ends. Almost unconsciously, you adopt a menacing pose as your mind plays catch-up and takes full stock of just how much raw power you’ve taken into your system.

Every muscle fibre in your body felt limber and full of strength. Every nerve ending tingled with energy. Every pore radiated might. Every follicle held a charge. Every sign pointed to you being at your absolute peak, the pinnacle of strength. Your bodysuit stretched, contorted, and tore in different places around your freshly expanded, almost Herculean musculature. If you had hair, you’re fairly certain it would be in the Super Saiyan configuration right now. And the sensation of the drain itself, oh sweet merciful Jesus. If you weren’t already getting laid over the last week or so, you’d be liable to classify the sensation as sexual, that’s how good it felt!

There were precisely zero parts of your physical form right now that were anything less than godlike, and calling it delightful was an entirely inadequate descriptor for how it felt.

All of the secret training to get your cyphering powers into peak condition. All of the intensive physical conditioning to complement it. All of the planning you had done for this exact moment. You don’t even care if you end up losing the power at the end of this all. It was so, so worth it.

And the best part is? This isn’t even close to all of the magic trapped in that staff.

Coming down from your magic-induced and laughter-catalyzed high, you give your neck and other joints some very satisfying, much-deserved cracks, small sparks of unstable green magic sputtering out every time they went pop. Then, with one final sigh of utter delight, your eyes settle back onto the King’s frame.

“So predictable,” you cackle, punctuating every next word with the first few steps of your slow and incredibly menacing anime villain walk towards him. “Quod. Et. Demonstrandum.”

Funnily enough, his anger has trouble coming out thanks to the pants-shitting fear he’s currently experiencing.