No Heros

Wrong.

It's all going wrong.

Strict Swift was many things, but a pony without a plan wasn't one of them. Unfortunately, it seems that hiring mad ponies, especially Raiders wasn't the best idea it seems. Then again their fear and reputation across the Wasteland were what he desperately needed.

After all, it's nothing like the worse of the worse coming to town and making the public see exactly why he needed to be in control. Under him, no Raider or creature shall ever set foot in their city again.

All the public had to do was let him run the show.

"sir they're attacking at the center of town and seem to be spreading far and fast".

Strict snorts pouring himself a bottle.

That wasn't the plan.

All they had to do was scare the public a bit let out a few shoots and grab one or two ponies in exchange for a high price.

Instead, it seems as if they were trying to burn this whole place into the ground.

Ah, how unfortunate.

Strict had plans and goals that ended with him slowly rising to be the next big player in the Wasteland and perhaps beyond.

Unfortunately, it seems like this life was another failure just like the last.

He smirks putting the glass up to his lips.

It's funny how despite what he's capable of there's another kind of evil that keeps getting in his way.

First, it was Harmony and now it was one of his turning against him. Then again chaos in that form only ever cares about themselves and pleasure while he has bigger plans. You see unlike them both he knew how to achieve his goals the right way. The world itself was cruel and as such a curler hoof must reach out and take control.

Unfortunately, ponies are either too naive or too selfish to realize that.

"So this means we aren't getting paid right?"

Strict hums. His eyes go over to the window where he can faintly hear the sound of explosions and gunfire while he can also make out ponies running and fearing for their lives.

It was all so wasteful.

So single-minded and based on instinct.

"I suppose not."

The pegasi he hired looked at each other before one raised a rifle. Aiming it at his skull while he never left the window.

He took another sip.

Seems that Hope isn't gonna change the world either. Briefly, he wonders how the two would have interacted under better circumstances. Surely all of them together could have worked something out. At least a deal that ends in them not coming to each other throats.

Then again his morality would have been the deciding factor.

Strict smiles.

It doesn't matter now.

"Try not to ruin my suit".

"Shut the fuck up".

Bang!

The once-clean window was now spattered with blood.

His blood.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dead.

Read dead dead dead.

Martyr laughs jamming his knife inside a pony" eye socket.

Screams.

So many screams.

He turns, seeing a mare galloping away clearly out of bullets.

Not her, not her not her.

He screams tackling the mare and shoving the knife into her stomach.

She fought and fought hard, but he didn't care.

Everything was a blur.

He was here but he wasn't

More screams.

Stabbings.

Blood.

So, so much blood.

Esper.

Where was Esper?

His sister.

His twin.

His betrayer.

He laughs

Pain.

He feels pain.

He turns noticing blood leaking from his shoulder. As he did the sound of a gun reloading caused him to turn his eyes towards the source.

Gun.

There was a gun aimed at him.

The pony holding said the gun was saying something he couldn't make it out too much noise, but in her eyes was determination.

She wanted something.

She wanted to accomplish something.

He grins.

"Do it".