The Shadows We Inherit

by Trashmaniac

Rating: mature
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Profanity, Violence, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Human, Minotaur, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 56656

A man gained power over the shadows in the magical land of Equestria.

Now listen. I know you're gonna think that I'm an idiot or a jerk. But! In my defense, how was I supposed to know this was real?

When a magic shadow thingy makes you a deal in what you think is a dream, you're going to want to see what happens right? Or maybe I'm just a different type of dumbass? Either way. I am not going to be making friends looking like this.

Inspired by stories such as Malideus/ Bringing Out the Worst in Others/ Of Blood, Skulls, and Friendship/ the rise of Darth Vulcan.

I've been rereading them to get a sense of how the villain fics I liked were in hopes of seeing how i can improve my own work.

M rating for gore, violence, and Profanity.
(No sex scenario's or any of that crap.)

Published 2023-10-31 22:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2025-01-27 03:55:29 UTC

Chapter 14: Buddy Knows Best (Or So He Says) - (StrongHorn Dominion)

Arachnia’s spider legs clicked against the stone floor, their rhythm as steady as the throbbing in my fire rune. The twisting corridor she led me through reeked of damp earth and old magic, but I was too focused to care.

“This is it,” she said, her voice like silk wrapped around a blade. Her eyes gleamed as she gestured to a chamber ahead.

The room was...overwhelming. Piles of gold and jewels were scattered everywhere, but my gaze zeroed in on the jagged shard of energy pulsing atop a pedestal in the center. Its glow seemed to call to me, pulling at the fire rune embedded on my wrist.

I didn’t need Arachnia’s smug grin to tell me this was a trap. But who cared? This shard was worth it.

As I approached, Arachnia’s voice slithered into the silence. “Impressive, isn’t it? A treasure for someone bold enough—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” I interrupted, brushing past her. The second I touched the shard, my world exploded into light and heat.

The energy coursed through me, raw and untamed. My fire rune flared, its intensity so blinding it felt like it might burn straight through my skin. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let go.

And then I heard him.

“Vex, you’ve got all the survival instincts of a moth in a bonfire.”

I didn’t need to look to know who it was. My shadow rippled on the floor before peeling away, rising into the familiar, serpentine form of Buddy. His sinuous body coiled in the air like smoke, his glowing white eyes narrowing in that particular way that said, I told you so.

“Buddy,” I muttered through clenched teeth, my hand still locked on the shard. “Not now.”

“Not now? Not now?” His voice was as smooth as oil, but with an edge sharp enough to cut steel. “You’re about to flambé yourself, and you’re telling me not now?”

“Buddy, I swear—”

Before I could finish, his shadowy coils lashed out, wrapping around my arm and the shard in a suffocating grip.

“What the hell?!” I shouted, yanking back, but Buddy held firm.

“Saving your sorry hide,” he hissed, his body twisting as the shard’s energy dimmed. “This thing? It’s not a toy. You’re playing with something older—and meaner—than you.”

With a final surge, Buddy swallowed the shard into his shadowy mass. The moment it disappeared, the fire rune on my wrist cooled, the pain fading to an ache.

“You just—” I started, flexing my hand, but he cut me off with a hiss.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes bored into me, unblinking and infuriatingly smug.

Arachnia, who’d been watching with a mixture of fascination and fury, finally stepped forward. “Where is it?” she demanded, her voice a venomous whisper.

Buddy turned his glowing gaze to her, uncoiling slightly. “Somewhere safe. Safer than you’d ever make it.”

Her mandibles clicked in irritation. “That shard was mine!”

“No,” Buddy corrected, his voice dripping with mockery. “It was sitting there waiting for someone stupid enough to grab it. Congratulations, you found Vex.”

I shot him a glare. “Gee, thanks.”

Arachnia’s legs twitched as she advanced, her fangs bared. “Do you think I’ll let you walk out of here after this insult?”

Buddy laughed, a low, echoing sound. “Walk? Oh, sweetheart, I don’t walk. And neither does he.” His body coiled tighter, shadows swirling menacingly around him. “But go ahead. Make your move.”

The temperature in the room dropped as the two squared off, shadows and venom ready to clash.

“Enough!” I snapped, stepping between them. My fire rune flared faintly, a warning. “Arachnia, we didn’t come here to fight you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Buddy muttered, his eyes still locked on her.

I ignored him. “Look, you get to keep your treasure hoard, okay? We’re not interested in the gold.”

Arachnia’s eyes narrowed. “And what are you interested in?”

Buddy slithered forward, his voice a low purr. “Your craftsmanship.”

Her gaze flicked to him warily. “What are you talking about?”

“We know about your little hobby,” he said, his tone dangerously smooth. “Crafting powerful artifacts. Like that nifty relic you made for Sombra back in the day. How about a new commission? A ring that can hold magic.”

Arachnia tilted her head, the gleam in her eyes shifting from fury to interest. “And what’s in it for me?”

Buddy’s grin widened, his coils tightening like a noose. “Take your pick of the fortress loot. Plus, a little...protection from certain enemies.”

She hesitated, her mandibles clicking softly. “It’ll take time.”

“You’ve got a week,” Buddy said, his tone brooking no argument.

With a final hiss, Arachnia skittered off, muttering something about insufferable bosses.

As soon as she was gone, I turned to Buddy. “Do you ever not piss people off?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, his eyes glowing brighter. “Now, to business. Get to the courtyard.”

“For what?”

“To climb the tallest tower,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“And what’s at the top?”

“A signal,” he replied, his voice filled with glee. “We’re announcing your rise, fireboy. Time to show the world who’s in charge.”

The climb was hell—cold wind, slippery stone, and Buddy’s constant commentary didn’t help.

“You climb like a constipated lizard,” he snickered, slithering effortlessly alongside me.

“Bite me,” I grunted, pulling myself up another ledge.

“I would, but I’d probably choke on all that pride,” he shot back.

When I finally reached the top, the view was worth it—stormy skies, jagged spires, and my fortress below, alive with shadowy movement.

“Alright,” I said, panting. “What now?”

Buddy coiled beside an altar in the center of the broken tower. “This is the heart of your fortress. Touch it, channel your will, and let the pit do the rest.”

“And by ‘pit,’ you mean...?”

He grinned. “Your new army factory.”

I stared at him. “This is insane.”

“No,” he corrected. “This is power. Now stop whining and claim it.”

I placed my hand on the altar, and the fortress came alive, shadows pulsing like a heartbeat. The pit below roared, its depths churning with dark energy.

“Well,” I muttered, stepping back as the room transformed around me, “this screams bad idea.”

Buddy laughed, his eyes glowing brighter. “Welcome to leadership, Vex. Let’s get to work.”

Ugh. I thrashed my gray hooves, tangled in the grossest, stickiest hug of my life. The webbing clung like it had something to prove, and my tattered jester uniform wasn’t helping, sticking to my fur like a second layer of humiliation.

"Fantastic," I muttered, struggling like a worm in a fishing net. "Vex runs off with Miss Legs-for-Days, and I’m stuck here as a spider's midnight snack. Just my luck!"

My horn sparked with dark magic, the familiar crackle of power making me grin despite myself. With a sharp snap, the webbing gave way, and I dropped to the ground, landing in a less-than-graceful heap. I shook myself off like a drenched dog, glaring at the remaining webbing stuck to my hooves. "Alright, you creepy crawlies, game’s over. Time to find Thunderhide before this whole fiasco drives me straight into an early grave."

Storming outside, I immediately spotted one of the Nightrüne standing there like a really unsettling garden gnome. Its glowing white eyes and twisted horns practically screamed "don’t mess with me," but I was in no mood.

"Hey, horn-head!" I waved a hoof in front of its face. It blinked once. Then again. Real slow. Like it was trying to find its one remaining brain cell. "Where’s Thunderhide?"

The thing tilted its head, like I’d just asked it to recite poetry, then pointed—hesitantly—toward the crumbling old guardhouse. "Thunderhide... snoring. Lower floor."

"Snoring?" I repeated, staring at it like it’d grown a second set of horns. "You’re telling me the great, unstoppable Thunderhide is down there napping while I’m up here battling spiders and existential dread?!"

The Nightrüne just blinked again. Typical.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, stomping off toward the guardhouse. "Of course, big guy takes a five-star snooze while the rest of us are breaking our backs. Legendary warrior, my left hoof."

The guardhouse was a wreck—crumbling walls, cobwebs thicker than my patience, and a smell that screamed abandon hope, all ye who enter here. I muttered curses all the way down the stairwell, my hooves clattering on the stone steps.

At the bottom, I found him. The mighty Thunderhide, wrapped up in webbing like some grotesque, muscle-bound burrito. And snoring. Loudly.

I stared at him. My eye twitched.

"You have got to be kidding me," I groaned, kicking over a nearby crate. It clattered to the floor with an echoing crash. Nothing. Not even a twitch.

"Oh, for the love of—" My horn flared, conjuring a magical firecracker. I lobbed it right at his cocoon.

BOOM!

The webbing disintegrated, and Thunderhide jolted awake with a snort loud enough to wake the dead. He blinked blearily, his horns catching the dim light as he tried to focus. "Huh? Jinx? You’re still alive?"

"Yeah, unlike your dignity," I snapped, stomping a hoof. "Mind explaining why you’re down here snoozing while I’m out there fighting spiders and bad vibes?"

He yawned—a big, obnoxious yawn—like he hadn’t just been caught napping on the job. "I dunno, Jinx. One minute I’m smashing minotaurs, next minute something bites me. Boom. Lights out."

"Oh, fantastic," I said, throwing up my hooves. "So the great and powerful Thunderhide got taken out by a bug. That’s so inspiring."

"It was a big bug," he shot back, rolling his shoulders like he wasn’t just a giant disappointment wrapped in fur.

I glared at him. "Oh, well, if it was big, that totally makes it okay."

He shrugged, cracking his neck with an audible pop. "You done yet? Or you got more sass to get outta your system?"

"I’ve always got more sass," I retorted, turning on my heel. "Now move it, musclehead. We’ve got a fortress to not-die in, and I’m not doing it alone."

As we made our way back upstairs, the ground suddenly rumbled beneath our hooves. I stumbled, barely catching myself on the crumbling wall.

Thunderhide growled, his ears twitching. "You feel that?"

"Yeah," I said, my fur bristling. "Not exactly a warm and fuzzy feeling."

The air shifted—cold, sharp, wrong. Then, without warning, a wave of darkness slammed into us, wrapping around like a suffocating blanket. I fired up my magic, the dark sparks flickering weakly against the oppressive chill. My heart raced as the wave passed, leaving the room eerily silent.

Thunderhide steadied himself, his horns glinting in the faint light. "That... wasn’t good."

"No kidding," I said, trying to catch my breath. "Pretty sure that’s the opposite of good."

He grunted, scanning the stairwell ahead. "Guessing we’re not catching a break anytime soon?"

I gave him a flat look. "Thunderhide, we never catch a break. Now shut up and keep moving before something else decides to ruin my day."

With that, we climbed higher, the fortress creaking ominously around us. Whatever had just happened, I had a feeling we were in for a lot worse.

Rubbing my eyes, I blinked and looked around.

Everything had... fixed itself. The broken walls? Gone. The collapsed towers? Gone. Instead, the fort was now wrapped in creepy, living shadow-walls, like a haunted house on steroids.

“What the hell?” I muttered. “Did we get new, shadowy fort guards or some dark magic contractor?”

Thunderhide just grunted, giving me a flat look, but he didn’t say anything. We both turned our heads just in time to hear—CRASH!

A figure slammed into the ground like a pissed-off comet. Debris flew everywhere, and I waved my hooves to clear the dust, hacking like I’d inhaled a cactus. Once the dust settled, there he was.

Vex.

And, of course, he looked different. Bigger, darker, like he’d bathed in a vat of shadow magic. His glowing eyes cut through the haze, and he brushed off the dirt with that smug swagger of his, like he'd just taken a shortcut through hell.

“Well, well, well,” I said, smirking despite myself. “Nice of you to show up with the deluxe renovations.”

Thunderhide didn’t even flinch, just stared at the crumbling wreckage now mysteriously covered in nightmare-fuel shadows. “Definitely not the work of the guards.”

“No kidding,” I snorted. “Who else but Vex could pull off this kind of... interior redesign?”

Vex glanced over at us, his signature cocky smirk spreading across his face. “Thought a little reconstruction was in order,” he said, dragging his fingers over the shadowy walls like he was admiring fine art. “Can’t have the fort looking like a pile of junk with everything coming up.”

“Reconstruction?!” I raised an eyebrow, giving him a deadpan stare. “This looks like the result of a bad acid trip and a paint spill.”

Vex chuckled, enjoying my discomfort. “True, but it was free, so beggars can’t be choosers.” He turned to Thunderhide then, that same confident smirk plastered on his face. “So, got any more tribes, clans, or, I don’t know, wild beasts you want to drag into my chaos? I’m heading back to the North Mountain to pick up the minotaurs and those other lackeys. If you’ve got anyone who might want in, now’s the time to send them my way.”

Thunderhide shot him a skeptical look, cracking his knuckles with a grunt. “You want me to drag people into your mess? You’ve got a hell of a way of making friends, Vex.”

Vex just laughed it off. “I don’t need you to drag anyone. Just point them in the right direction. I’ll handle the rest.”

Then he turned to me, eyes narrowing with that same, annoying smirk. “And you, Jinx... make sure the fort doesn’t fall apart while I’m off recruiting my little army.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, great. Babysitting duty. My favorite.”

“Exactly,” Vex purred, practically enjoying my suffering. “Stay sharp, Jinx. I’ll be back soon, and that’s when the real fun starts.”

Thunderhide gave me a once-over before nodding. “I’ll round up a few for you, Jinx. Try not to burn the place down, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, watching Vex slip back into the shadows. “I’ll do my best to keep the place in one piece while you’re off gathering your little army of misfits.”

As Vex vanished into the darkness, I was left standing there with Thunderhide, wondering exactly what I’d gotten myself into this time.

I emerged from the shadows near the Geode Passage, my eyes scanning the air. The runes carved into the stone flickered to life, casting a dim blue glow that danced across the walls. The air crackled with energy, and I could feel the portal coming to life ahead of me.

With a smooth motion, I pulled out the Geode Key—a stone triangle with a glowing blue rune in the middle. The magic pulsed as I gripped it, syncing with the swirling vortex in the archway. The portal responded, its energy humming louder as the runes around it vibrated.

Then, I heard Buddy’s voice, his words carrying the weight of a joke: “Robert you never seem to rest.”

I paused, my brow furrowing in confusion. Robert? It took a second for the name to sink in—my name.

A smirk curled on my lips as the realization settled in. "Well, ain't no rest for the wicked," I muttered, the words tasting familiar, even more fitting now.

I stepped into the portal, the swirling vortex tugging at me, and in a blink, I was through. The dark void of the other side greeted me, and the cold, familiar expanse of the place where my remaining minions were waiting stretched before me.

Time to gather what was mine. The minotaurs, the forces I’d left behind—they’d be mine again. And soon, the armor would be in my grasp. Everything would fall into place.

Author's Note

Hey everyone, Trashmanic here with Chapter 14! Can you believe it? After 14 chapters (and only a little over a week in-universe), Vex has finally started making some real progress on his whole "build an army" plan. It’s about time, right?

Now that things are rolling, he’s got five big objectives lined up:

Get the shard back to regain his armor and ditch that pesky rune.

Head back to Lord Chrysalis and pick up his minions.

Kick Lord Chrysalis’s flank—because revenge is a dish best served brutal.

Pay the Diamond Dogs a “friendly” visit and teach them why messing with Vex was a terrible idea.

Relocate his minions from the North Mountain to Fort Rapture (which, let’s face it, is definitely getting a new name).

But, of course, even in victory, Vex can’t catch a break. Every time he thinks he’s simplifying his life, another disaster comes crashing in to make things worse. It’s almost like the universe is trying to turn his to-do list into a saga all on its own.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with me this far! I hope you enjoy this chapter and the chaos that follows. As always, feel free to leave your thoughts—I love hearing from you guys.

Until next time,
~Trashmanic

Lore Timbit:

SpellBorn species are born from magic, meaning Changelings, Nightrüne, and even Arachnia are all technically part of the same family tree, similar to how canines include wolves, dogs, foxes, and coyotes.

Chapter 15: Forged in Pain - (North Mountain)

The faint blue glow of the portal flickered and vanished as I stepped into the cold, damp Geode Passage. Jagged walls of stone glimmered with veins of mineral deposits, doing little to dispel the oppressive, suffocating atmosphere. Behind me, Buddy—my loyal shadow construct—hovered like a dark, flickering ghost, a sinister presence in the gloom.

"Rockyforge!" I called, my voice echoing in the cavern’s endless depths. "I’ve got the Shard. Time to honor your word—break the seal and hand over the armor!"

The ground trembled beneath me, and I could feel the heat emanating from the dragon’s lair. Of course, Rockyforge had to make an entrance. I could almost hear him roll his eyes before his deep, rumbling voice filled the air. “You disturb my rest, mortal. Do you value your life so little?”

I scoffed, holding the shard aloft. “Cut the drama, Rocky. We had a deal. Armor. Now.”

The dragon's glowing green eyes narrowed, studying me like a fly trapped in his web. “You bring me this shard... and demand armor? Bold for a mortal.”

I clenched my fists. “I didn’t slog through a kingdom of savage beasts just to hear you pontificate. A deal’s a deal. Break the seal and give me the armor, or I’ll reduce your hoard to ash.”

Buddy hissed in warning beside me, and I felt the air grow thick with tension, like the calm before a storm. Rockyforge growled in a low, guttural tone and finally spoke. “Very well. You’ve earned it. The seal shall break. The armor will be yours.”

With a swipe of his enormous claws, ancient runes shimmered into existence around me. The seal that had bound my body cracked with a resounding noise, and I exhaled, feeling a slight release of pressure. My shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “Good. Now, the armor.”

Rockyforge’s grin was wicked, a sadistic glint in his eyes. “To wear this armor, you must bond body and soul with it.”

Before I could comprehend the full meaning of his words, his colossal claw shot forward and swatted me off my feet. I sailed through the air, crashing into a pool of molten lava with a sickening splash. The impact sent a wave of searing heat over me, and the pain was instant—like being roasted alive from the inside out. My body screamed, every nerve firing in protest, but I couldn’t escape. The lava wasn’t just hot—it was alive, and it began to coil around me like some sentient, fiery serpent.

My muscles screamed in agony, but the molten metal held me fast, pulling me deeper into its suffocating grip. It wasn’t just burning my flesh—it was fusing with me, sinking into my very soul, as though it were claiming me as its own.

Through the haze of pain, I heard Rockyforge’s voice, dripping with dark amusement. “Well, kid. It’s either gonna work... or you’re dead.”

The molten metal fused with my body, the searing agony threatening to tear me apart. But through it all, there was a strange sense of purpose. The pain felt familiar, as if this was exactly what I needed. My body and soul were bound to the armor—dark, fiery, and alive—its blackened surface adorned with glowing orange veins, pulsating with raw power.

As I stood, newly forged in molten armor, I felt more alive than ever. More powerful than ever. My mind was ablaze with rage, and I felt unstoppable.

Rockyforge gave me a nod of approval, his massive form towering above me. "You got what you wanted, Vex. Now control it, or it’ll control you."

I smirked, testing my new form. I flexed my arms, and the armor shifted and moved with me, like a second skin. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”

Pain still pulsed through my body, but with each passing moment, it felt more like fuel than torment. Lord Chrysalis’s betrayal still burned within me, and the memory of that damn Dragon’s warning pushed me to my limits. If I had died in that lava, it would have been his fault. But now? Now I had the power to take him down. I’d make him regret ever crossing me.

“Leave now,” Rockyforge rumbled. “Cause chaos for the princesses. They’ll regret crossing you.”

I chuckled darkly. "Princesses? I’ll deal with them later. First, I’m building my own kingdom. They won’t even know what hit ‘em."

With a snap of my fingers, I teleported directly into Lord Crystallus's camp. His guards froze in confusion as they laid eyes on the molten monstrosity standing before them. One hesitation was all I needed. A surge of White Flame erupted from my body, disintegrating them into ash before they could even react.

I didn’t spare a second thought for the survivors. Crystallus had to die.

"Crystallus..." I muttered, savoring the venom in the name. This wasn’t just a mission—it was personal.

The war room was a dimly lit chamber at the heart of the camp, illuminated only by the pale glow of crystalline sconces. At its center stood a crystal table, shimmering with magic and displaying a map of Equestria and the Stronghorn Dominion. As I entered, the last of the guards disintegrated into ash behind me. Crystallus was waiting, standing tall in his gleaming steel armor. His crystal crown reflected the light like a shattered star, and his milky white eyes peered out from behind a porcelain mannequin mask. His voice slithered out, smooth and mocking.

"Ah, Vex. How delightful. I see you’ve burned your way here like the tempest you claim to be." His tone was rich with condescension, dripping with false admiration. "But tell me, my fiery friend, did the dragon amuse you? Or was the golem's company too cold for your liking?"

I grinned beneath my helmet, my voice a low growl. "They were warm-ups. Obstacles, nothing more."

Crystallus tilted his head, his mask glinting eerily. "Still carrying that confidence of yours, I see. How charming. Though one might call it... misplaced." His chuckle was dry, like the sound of cracking glass.

Shadows coiled around me as I flexed my fingers. "Confidence? No, Crystallus. What I have is certainty. Certainty that you’ll regret crossing me."

Before I could unleash my attack, a burst of golden light tore through the shadows. The air crackled with divine energy, and from the shadows stepped Malachi. His golden mask, carved like twisted roots, gleamed in the dim light. His ruby eyes blazed with righteous fury, his dark green cloak swirling like a storm, and his golden staff radiated power.

"Ahhh... so it is thee, flame-born scourge," Malachi intoned, his voice low and measured, each word dripping with disdain. "Thy hubris bringeth thee here to challenge forces beyond thy reckoning?"

I snorted, summoning a wall of shadows to block the bolt of golden lightning he hurled at me. "Still talking like you’re some ancient prophecy, Malachi? Get over yourself."

From behind me, a familiar figure emerged—a tiny, impish shadow with glowing white eyes. Buddy. He floated lazily, grinning at Malachi with exaggerated mockery before sticking out his tongue.

Malachi's brow twitched. "This... creature serveth thee? Truly, thou art the embodiment of folly."

"Not as much as you think," I replied, shadows pooling around me. "Think your light can outshine me?"

"Thou shalt regret thy insolence, heretic," Malachi snarled, slamming his staff to the ground. Golden arcs of energy shot toward me, sizzling the air. My armor absorbed the blasts without so much as a scorch mark. I stepped forward, unfazed.

"Is that it?" I taunted, shadow spears erupting from the ground around him. Malachi twisted, evading most, but one grazed his side, drawing a flash of blood.

"You dare!" he bellowed, his ruby eyes flaring.

Before I could press my advantage, the floor beneath me erupted, a massive crystal spike impaling my side and sending me skidding across the chamber. Crystallus stepped forward, his voice dripping with mock sympathy.

"Dear, dear Vex. Did you truly believe you could face both of us? How naive." His laugh was low, sinister, echoing through the chamber. "Malachi, shall we teach our little firebrand a lesson?"

Malachi nodded, his staff sparking with golden light. "Together, we shall extinguish thy darkness and banish thee to the void."

Buddy, undeterred, zipped around the room, summoning shadow creatures that prowled like wolves. The tiny demon giggled maniacally, throwing Malachi and Crystallus off balance with his chaos.

Crystallus sighed, his tone laced with disdain. "Must you rely on such trifles, Vex? This is embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? I call it strategy," I retorted, surging forward towards Malachi while he was distracted. The room seemed to slow as I closed the distance between myself and Malachi. He was distracted by Buddy's antics, weaving in and out of the shadows, and that was all I needed. My fist, crackling with white-hot energy, shot out and slammed into his side before he could react. The impact sent him flying backward, his golden mask striking the far wall with a deafening crash. Dust and rubble erupted in a cloud around him as his staff clattered to the ground. Smoke rose from the damage, the twisted metal and stone glowing faintly.

Malachi staggered to his hooves, his dark green cloak singed and frayed. His ruby eyes gleamed ominously through his mask, but his aura flickered weakly. His voice rasped as he grunted, struggling to regain his posture. "Ah, a brute with a temper. Thy vigor burns bright, but thy judgment falters, unrefined as the beast thou art."

I didn’t respond. I was focused on the next target.

Crystallus stood tall, his crystalline armor shimmering under the flickering light, a white pony mannequin mask covering his face with an eerie crystal backing. His milky eyes stared at me, unblinking, as if he were untouchable. He spoke in that smug, almost melodious tone, though his words were tinged with venom.

"Vex, darling, must you ruin every room you enter? Such raw brutality, no finesse, no grace. Tsk, tsk," Crystallus purred, his voice dripping with disdain. He raised a hoof, summoning crystalline projectiles that whirred dangerously through the air. "But I suppose you've come to ruin my perfection again. So predictable."

I didn’t wait for him to finish. My body was already in motion, my feet slamming into the ground as I rushed forward. I was done with his arrogance. Done with the way he thought his elegance could overpower anything.

"Regret crossing me yet?" I snarled as my fist exploded with raw energy and collided with his chest. The shockwave from the impact sent a tremor through the room, and Crystallus staggered back, his crystalline form cracking under the force of the blow.

His voice faltered, but there was still that wicked grin, even as he staggered. "Oh, the barbarity! You’ve marred my divine visage!" Crystallus scoffed, his horn glowing faintly as he tried to regain control. "Do you truly believe your brutish strength will suffice against me? Adorable, truly."

Electricity crackled along my body as I closed the gap. "You don’t get it, Crystallus. I’m not here to fight fair. I’m here to take you apart—piece by piece."

Buddy’s shadowy presence was still distracting Malachi, weaving between the cracks in the room. I could hear Malachi growling in frustration, his staff crackling with dark energy. "Thy mischief doth irk me, little shade," he hissed. "But thou art a fleeting annoyance. I shall see thee vanquished."

But I wasn’t concerned with Malachi anymore.

I raised my fist again, smashing it into Crystallus’s side. His armor cracked, pieces of crystal shattering like glass, and I heard the faintest gasp of pain slip from him. But that didn’t stop him. It never did.

"You’re stronger than you look, darling," Crystallus sneered through gritted teeth. "But strength alone is so… pedestrian."

I grit my teeth, pushing myself harder. "You don’t know who you’re dealing with." My fist slammed into his chest again, and this time, his body buckled, his crystal crown splintering from the impact. His form staggered, but he managed to stay on his hooves, still taunting me.

"Fight back, Crystallus!" I shouted, each word seething with fury. "Show me something! You think you can just talk all that bullshit and not back it up?"

Each punch was a release of pure, unrelenting rage. My energy flowed through me, pushing me forward with every swing. His body jerked with every strike, his crystal armor shattering more and more with each hit.

"Pathetic!" I screamed. "You’re nothing but a joke!"

Crystallus coughed weakly, his once-pristine form now a twisted mess of broken crystal and burned flesh. His defiant gaze faltered, but his lips curled into a twisted smirk.

"Such… inelegance," he murmured, his voice strained, but still dripping with sarcasm. "You’re simply a hammer, darling—a brute with no artistry."

My fury didn’t cease. Every blow felt like a release, the satisfaction of watching his arrogance crumble under my fists. His mask cracked, his crown shattered, and still, his eyes—the same smug, lifeless eyes—stared up at me in defiance.

The pressure in my chest built as I continued to hammer away at him. His form grew more and more disfigured, each punch making him seem less and less like the proud figure he had been.

Finally, the anger that had fueled me started to burn itself out. My arms were heavy, and I could feel the exhaustion creeping in. My body slowed, my fists dropping to my sides, the final remnants of my fury waning.

Crystallus wasn’t moving anymore. His body was a broken mess beneath me. I stood over him, panting, my chest heaving with each breath. The air was still, thick with the remains of my rage.

"Did you really think you could take me on?" I whispered, the words more for myself than for him. But Crystallus didn’t answer. He was beyond that now.

With a final, disgusted glance at the shattered remains of his form, I turned away, my body still shaking from the effort.

My eyes locked onto Malachi who was overwhelmed by buddy's creatures, his form fallen, his twisted body sprawled on the stone floor like a broken doll. His once-glowing aura had dimmed to a weak flicker, barely a pulse beneath the golden mask that twisted in the dim light. His cloak, once regal, lay in tatters around him. He still breathed, but the arrogance he had carried like a mantle was now reduced to a pitiful mess of flesh and blood.

I didn’t want to waste any more time.

Without hesitation, I raised my foot, ready to crush his skull beneath it. The thought of ending him right here, right now, sent a surge of cold satisfaction through me. No more games. No more tricks.

But as my fist descended, everything changed. His body shuddered unnaturally, the air itself bending and warping as though reality was afraid to touch him. Suddenly, thick vines erupted from his form, wrapping around my legs, my torso—gripping me with the strength of an ancient, unseen force. I roared in fury, thrashing against the tree-like tendrils, but they only tightened their hold, as if mocking my struggle. The pressure surged, and the vines dug deep into my armor, constricting with an iron grip that refused to let go.

The weight of the world seemed to settle on my chest as I fought to break free, my power surging in desperate defiance. But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

Then I saw it. Crystallus, broken and battered, his once-pristine form reduced to little more than a crumbling statue, began to stir. His cracked armor groaned as he moved, the sounds of his bones cracking reverberating like a death knell through the room. Slowly, painfully, his decayed form rose to its hooves, the jagged remnants of his armor clattering to the floor. His mask—now little more than a twisted mockery—still clung to his face, the milky eyes barely visible behind the fractured glass.

As he began to limp toward me, I saw it—the faintest shimmer of golden particles swirling around him, like dying stars that refused to fade. He was… alive? No, not alive. Not truly.

I seethed. "What is this?" I hissed, my teeth gritted in fury. "How are you still standing? I destroyed you!"

Crystallus gave a soft, rattling chuckle, the sound like bones grinding together. He tilted his head, his cracked and rotting face forming into a smug, almost mocking grin.

"Ahh, you think you’ve won, do you?" His voice was a soft rasp, filled with venom and cruel amusement. "But you are mistaken, dear Vex. You can never truly destroy what is beyond death. You may have shattered my form, cracked my armor, but I am beyond such petty concerns. I am—" His smile widened, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I am undying."

I stared at him in disbelief, watching as his body reformed, the decayed flesh knitting itself together with sickening ease. The golden aura around him flickered once more, as if to remind me of the dark power that still lingered within him, even as he moved like a ghost.

"You’ve failed," he continued, each word laced with mockery. "Look at me. I am broken, yes—but not dead. No, that is a privilege reserved for those who do not possess my... immortality. Even death cannot hold me." He chuckled darkly. "You have only delayed the inevitable, my dear Vex."

My chest burned with anger, my muscles straining against the vines that held me fast. I struggled, trying to tear myself free, but his words only made my fury grow.

"You’re nothing but a zombie now," I spat. "Pathetic. How does it feel to be a mockery of life?"

He limped closer, his decayed hooves dragging across the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of broken remnants. "A mockery?" he rasped, his face still carrying that twisted grin. "Oh, Vex… How quaint. You think this is a curse. But this is the price of power, the curse of immortality. You see, even when you try to break me, I will rise again. Always. And when I do, I will make sure you feel every inch of that failure."

I clenched my teeth, the pressure in my chest almost unbearable as I watched him rise. "No matter how many times you rise," I snarled, "you’ll always be the same. A rotting husk of what you once were."

He chuckled again, low and menacing, his voice now a whisper. "Ah, but it is your perception that is flawed, my dear. I may be broken, but in my brokenness, I am still more than you could ever hope to be. And I am not alone." His milky eyes glinted with something dark. "You see, Vex, even if I must step back for now, know this: the princesses... will be your undoing. They will rise against you, and you will fall. All you have worked for, all you’ve built... will crumble."

As he vanished into the shadows, my last growl was a mixture of fury and frustration. He was gone, for now—slipped away like the coward he was.

But my rage—my fury—was still there. It boiled inside me like a storm, threatening to break free. Crystallus’ mocking words echoed in my mind, taunting me, reminding me just how close I had been. How I was so close to crushing him beneath my heel. Yet, as always, he had evaded me. Slipped away like a shadow, as everything always did.

My teeth ground together, the taste of blood filling my mouth as my anger grew. My aura flared, blinding white light exploding outward as my magic surged, wild and uncontrolled. The tendrils of the tree that had held me captive groaned in protest as I channeled all my power, and with a roar, I tore the roots from the earth. The mountain shook as the tree snapped and cracked, its form bending under my fury. I lifted it high into the air, before burning it to ash with a single wave of my hand. What remained of the tree scattered, reduced to nothing but smoldering dust and charred remains.

“Why?!” I screamed into the cavern, my voice raw with the weight of my rage. “I was winning! For once, I was about to win, and you take it all away!”

I slammed my fist into the ground, the force of the blow sending shockwaves through the entire mountain. The rock cracked beneath me, the very walls trembling as if they too were protesting the fury I unleashed. My eyes blazed with pure, white-hot magic, each pulse of my power sending waves of arcane energy rippling through the air.

But then, as if a veil were being drawn across my vision, I felt something. Something cold. It swept over me, familiar and suffocating, the cold embrace of the darkness I had forged into my very being. The power that had become a part of me. My dark magic.

It was as though the rage within me had found its match—a soothing balm for my burning heart. My thoughts slowed, and I paused, letting the suffocating darkness envelop me like a blanket. What was I to do with all this power? All this anger?

A thought, a realization, struck me like a bolt of lightning.

Crystallus was gone. The base was mine now. His operation, his treasures, his resources—everything he had worked so hard to build—was ripe for the taking.

The cages.

The prisoners who had been foolish enough to think they could escape Crystallus’s rule. They were nothing now—just pawns in my game. I would own them, bend them to my will. When they were mine, they would become the force that would drive my plans forward.

A wicked grin spread across my face.

I melted into the shadows, my form becoming one with the darkness, as I moved silently through the wreckage of the base. They were mine, all of them. And soon, this entire operation—this base—would be under my command. I would reign.

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here with Chapter 15 of The Shadows We Inherit! This one takes a darker turn compared to the previous chapters. Vex is getting closer to reuniting his entire crew and, after a long journey, finally obtains his armor. Not only that, but he also has the seal removed.

As always, your feedback means a lot to me, so drop a comment if you have thoughts or just want to chat about the plot or characters! Things are about to get even more heated. Stay tuned for what’s next—Vex’s rage is only just beginning!

I've been trying to update this fic twice every month, but I’m also working on another fic, so updates may not always be on time. That said, I’ll aim for that time frame and will update you in an author's note (or even here) if anything changes.

Thanks for reading, and keep being awesome!

Armor concept ideas:

Chapter 16: Glory at Any Cost - (StrongHorn Dominion)

Jinx sauntered through the winding halls of Fort Rapture, his hooves clacking against the pristine white floors, the sound stark against the stillness of the fortress. The black, pulsating substance that filled the cracks in the walls gave the place an eerie vitality. He snickered to himself, the chaotic energy of the place suiting his temperament perfectly, even if it wasn’t his idea of a fun time to babysit a fortress. Vex was off somewhere, likely scheming, and had left Jinx to "look after the place," which really meant trying not to burn it down in boredom.

He adjusted his tattered jester's hat, the bells jingling softly as he meandered to where the hulking Shadow Brutes were gathered. Their towering, obsidian-like forms loomed over him, their spiraling horns gleaming with an unsettling radiance. What caught his attention, though, was the bizarre behavior they were displaying. Instead of the guttural growls and fragmented sentences they typically uttered, they were making noises that almost resembled singing.

Jinx tilted his head, his wild black mane falling into his face. “Hah! Who knew you lot had it in ya? A regular shadowy choir, eh?” he quipped, his high-pitched voice carrying a manic glee. One of the Brutes turned its gleaming horned head toward him, the sound halting momentarily before they resumed, as if unbothered by his presence.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, ignore the star of the show. See if I care.” He skipped along, the chaotic energy in his step clashing with the grim efficiency of the fortress.

At the guardhouse, he stumbled upon the Shadow Swarmers dropping off their loot. Their glossy, semi-liquid forms shimmered with each movement, the glowing white eyes in their shells pulsating rhythmically. As more Brutes shuffled over to sort the weapons and armor into neat piles, Jinx leaned against the doorway, tapping a hoof impatiently.

“Y’know, this whole operation’s a little too neat for my liking,” he muttered. “Where’s the mayhem? The pizzazz? The—what’s the word?—chaos!” He emphasized the last word with a dramatic sweep of his hoof, startling a Swarmer that skittered off in a hurry.

He yawned exaggeratedly, peering into the gloom. “Now, where are those spider freaks? Arachnia’s crew, what do they call ‘em? The Creepy Crawlers? The Webhead Wonders?” He laughed to himself before muttering, “Seriously, where are they?”

With a flick of his tail, Jinx trotted off deeper into the fortress, his mind racing with possibilities. The Nightrüne were an effective bunch, but their sudden shift toward...organization? That was unsettling. Still, it wasn’t his problem—at least not until Vex got back.

“Let’s just hope the spider squad hasn’t decided to start redecorating,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't think I could handle that kind of creativity around here."

Jinx groaned dramatically, his horn sparking with chaotic energy as he muttered, “Of course, it’s always the sneaky types that leave no trail. Can’t make it easy for ol’ Jinx, now can we?” He concentrated, weaving a spell in his jagged, erratic style. The air shimmered as a distorted, greenish light pulsed outward, latching onto faint hoofprints. Most belonged to the Brutes, Minotaurs, and even hulking Mountain Trolls, but finally, a set of prints far more refined and deliberate emerged. The distinctive punctures from spurred hooves and faint claw marks left by spider legs led the way.

“Bingo,” Jinx chirped, setting off with an exaggerated skip.

The trail led him to an isolated building tucked against the fortress wall, the air thick with the pungent aroma of herbs and the acrid tang of molten metal. Strange magical runes flickered faintly across the doorway, and inside, the rhythmic clang of metal striking metal echoed. Jinx peeked through the cracked door, spotting Arachnia.

She was rifling through tomes and throwing metal bars around in what looked like organized chaos. Her six spider legs, glistening with dark gray material and purple joints, moved with eerie precision, grabbing items and placing them into strange patterns. Her glowing redish purple eyes were focused, but the jagged horn on her forehead sparked with faint irritation.

Without a second thought, Jinx swung the door wide open. “Whatcha doing?” he asked in his high-pitched, singsong tone.

Arachnia let out a startled hiss, her spider legs latching onto the ceiling as she vaulted up, her glowing eyes narrowing with both surprise and disdain. “Jinx!” she snapped, her voice dripping venom. “What in the abyss are you doing here?”

He grinned, unbothered by her tone. “Vexy-boy put me in charge while he’s off doing whatever it is he does. Thought I’d do a little tour, make sure everything’s shipshape. But you—” he gestured wildly with his hoof, “—were nowhere to be found. And your creepy crawly minions? Poof! Vanished! What’s up with that?”

Arachnia sighed, descending from the ceiling with a mix of annoyance and grace. “Of course you couldn’t find them. That’s the point. They’re supposed to be invisible, unnoticed, doing the things that need doing while idiots like you bumble around.”

Jinx gave a mock gasp, clutching his chest. “Oh, the pain! The insult! How will I ever recover?” His grin returned almost instantly. “So, how am I supposed to find them if they’re all... poof?”

“Tough luck,” Arachnia said flatly, her spider legs folding neatly behind her. “Maybe get your oh-so-glorious boss to sort it out for you. Not my problem.”

Jinx tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Speaking of which, why are you even here? You don’t exactly seem like Vex’s number-one fangirl.”

Arachnia chuckled darkly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Vex? That impulsive, egotistical warmonger? He’s a jerk, a tyrant, and an absolute nightmare to work with.” Her voice softened into a purr as her glowing eyes narrowed mischievously. “But damn if I’m not a sucker for tall, dark, and evil.”

Jinx recoiled, making a gagging noise. “Blegh! You’re weird. Like, really weird. Inside and out.”

Arachnia smirked, her jagged horn sparking faintly. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jinx paused in the doorway, smirking over his shoulder. "I’ll just find them like I found you, spider legs. You’re the queen bee—er, spider—so the rest should be easy peasy!” He started to saunter off, bells jingling with each exaggerated step.

Arachnia rolled her glowing eyes and called after him, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Oh, and Jinx! Give Vex a big kiss for me next time you see him!” She winked and swayed her hips for emphasis, her spider legs moving in unison to make the motion unnervingly graceful.

Jinx froze mid-step, his ears twitching in horror. “Blegh! No! Stop! That’s so wrong!” he shouted, shuddering visibly before breaking into a full gallop, his cackling laughter echoing as he disappeared around the corner.

The room fell silent save for the faint crackle of the forge, but then a faint shimmer emerged from the shadows above. A figure dropped down beside Arachnia, its form resolving into a sleek and menacing presence. It wore a pale white mask resembling a spider’s face, its dark purple eyes gleaming with malicious intelligence. The dark purple cloak draped over its form concealed much of its pale purple armor, but its aura of danger was unmistakable.

The creature’s voice was low and smooth. “Do you want me to deal with the clown?” it asked, the disdain for Jinx evident in its tone.

Arachnia chuckled, an evil grin spreading across her face. “No, no… not yet. But I do want you to tell the others to mess with him. You know what to do.” Her grin widened, her jagged horn sparking faintly as she envisioned the chaos to come.

The minion nodded, its form shimmering briefly before vanishing into thin air.

Arachnia turned back to her forge, her grin remaining as she muttered to herself, “Let’s see how well the jester dances when the web tightens.”

Jinx trotted along the trail of hoofprints, his jagged horn glowing like a flickering flashlight. The chaotic green light illuminated the ground, showing the faint impressions left behind. “Weird hoofprints, weird spider legs, weird everything. Why does it always have to be weird?” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

The trail was straightforward at first, leading him through the fortress corridors. He paused occasionally to inspect the surroundings, only to find more faint impressions and scratches. His bells jingled faintly as he hopped over debris left by the Swarmers and Brutes earlier.

Then, the trail stopped abruptly at a wall.

Jinx frowned, his head tilting. “Oh, come on,” he said, tapping his hoof against the wall. His horn cast more light upward, revealing that the trail didn’t end—it went straight up the wall.

He craned his neck back, his jaw dropping as the glowing prints seemed to dance up the vertical surface, then split into three different paths. One set of tracks continued up the wall toward the ceiling. Another veered off to the left, clinging to the side of the wall. The third casually ambled to the right, as if defying gravity was just a casual stroll.

Jinx’s jaw went limp. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Who even does this?” He waved his hoof at the paths in exasperation. “What are they, ninja-spider-horse things? Ugh!”

He sat down with a dramatic sigh, scratching his mane under his tattered jester hat. “Alright, Jinx, think. You’ve got three choices, and all of them are a pain in the flank. Up, left, or right? What’s it gonna be?” His hoof hovered in the air like he was about to play eeny, meeny, miny, moe with himself.

His chaotic grin returned as he sparked his horn to life again. “Well, when in doubt, go up! Up is fun, up is unpredictable!” He leaned closer to the wall, his hooves sparking with a little chaotic magic as he prepared to scale it. “But if I run into another one of those creepy spider-drones, I’m gonna prank it into next week…”

With a manic cackle, Jinx began his ascent, determined to follow the most absurd path he could.

Thunderhide’s hooves pounded against the crumbling stone of the Ever-Stretching Path, the long-forgotten road that wound its way through the forgotten lands of his people. The ancient stones, cracked and worn, were all that remained of the once-great kingdom that had fallen to ruin, a distant memory now buried under the weight of time and overgrowth. The thick forest on either side seemed to close in around him as he walked, the sound of his heavy steps echoing in the eerie silence, save for the occasional screech of a bird or the rustle of leaves in the wind.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting the world in shades of gold and amber. Thunderhide’s glowing amber eyes stared ahead, yet his thoughts were far from the path before him. The weight of the world hung heavy on his broad shoulders, his thoughts consumed by the choices he had made. The familiar warmth of the sun was no comfort; instead, it only reminded him of the legacy he carried—the bloodline of his tribe, the honor of his people. And the question that gnawed at his mind: Had he abandoned his brothers in their time of need? The thought lingered like a shadow, unwilling to leave.

“They’ll never let me forget it,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough, as though the words had been dragged from deep within his chest. His fingers absent-mindedly traced the runic tattoos etched into his arms, symbols of a heritage that tied him to his ancestors. Those markings should have brought pride, but now they felt like chains, reminders of the duty he had yet to fulfill.

Thunderhide’s mind wandered back to the moment that had shattered everything. Tradition had demanded it—when a warrior’s kin fell in battle, they must run, preserving the bloodline. It was a law as old as time itself, passed down through generations. And yet, no tale had ever spoken of the shame that followed. The shame of leaving your brothers to die while you ran. The whispers of the tribe, the glares of those who questioned his resolve. They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know that Thunderhide had not chosen to run—he had been forced to.

But now, the path had brought him here, back to his people. Back to a decision that could shape the future of the tribe. The sound of smoke rising on the horizon broke his reverie, the scent of burning wood and campfires wafting toward him. A strange comfort washed over him. The smell of home. His pace quickened, the heavy thud of his hooves resonating in the stillness. His people were waiting.

As he rounded the final bend, the camp came into view—his tribe, his kin, gathered around the familiar tents and fire pits. Minotaurs milled about, going about their daily tasks, while others sat in quiet conversation. The sight should have brought him joy, but all he could feel was the weight of his decisions pressing on him.

His arrival didn’t go unnoticed. Several familiar faces looked up, their eyes lighting up with recognition. A few greeted him with hearty slaps on the back, others nodded in silence. But there was no warmth in their gestures, only a quiet scrutiny, as if they were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then, there he was. The chieftain. Thunderhide's heart skipped a beat as the towering figure of the tribe’s leader approached. The chieftain’s battle-worn armor shimmered in the fading light, the intricate markings of the tribe standing out in stark contrast against the weathered leather. His sharp gaze scanned the scene, pausing only when it fell on Thunderhide. A heavy silence settled over the tribe as the chieftain stepped forward, his voice cutting through the quiet.

"Where are your brothers, Thunderhide?" The chieftain's voice was deep and resonant, carrying far despite the lack of volume. The question hung in the air like a challenge, a demand for an answer. And as his eyes flicked over the gathered warriors, they, too, turned their gaze to Thunderhide—expecting an answer.

Thunderhide felt the weight of their stares bearing down on him. He stood tall, his posture unwavering, despite the storm brewing within. He took a deep breath and began, his voice steady but carrying the weight of everything he had endured.

"They're not here," he said, his tone low but firm. "After we raided a pony settlement, we were captured by a Diamond Dog warlord. Slaves, for four days." His words landed like a punch, the memories of chains, betrayal, and helplessness flooding back in an instant. The tribe’s warriors shifted uneasily, murmurs spreading through the camp like wildfire. Their eyes narrowed, questioning, as if they weren’t sure whether to believe him or to pass judgment.

"But we broke free," Thunderhide continued, the fire of his resolve sparking in his chest. "With the help of a few slaves. We fought back, took what we needed, and escaped. But fate had other plans. We ran into another warlord. A bastard named Crystallus. And, once again, we were captured. Enslaved. But this time… something changed."

The chieftain’s eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable as Thunderhide spoke. The murmurs around the camp quieted, each warrior hanging on his every word.

"We were saved," Thunderhide said, his voice growing stronger. "By a demon. His name is Vex. He gave us the power to fight back. And we did. We took over Crystallus’s camp. We made a deal with him, though I don’t know the details. I don’t need to know. What matters is that Vex gave us the strength to survive."

The tribe’s warriors exchanged uneasy glances, the name Vex heavy in the air. Thunderhide could see their doubts, their wariness. They weren’t fond of demons, but Thunderhide knew this was the truth.

"We were betrayed. The warlord sent a war golem to finish us off, but we escaped. We were thrown through some kind of portal. And we ended up at Fort Rapture." Thunderhide’s jaw clenched as he remembered the chaos of that night, the fire, the blood, the taste of victory. "We took it. We conquered it. And now… Vex has his sights set on Crystallus. He wants to make things right. And I’m here to offer you the choice I made: Join Vex's army. Or stay as his subjects. Either way, the tribe grows. We gain power. We gain glory. And we gain a future."

The chieftain was silent for a long moment, his eyes studying Thunderhide with a piercing intensity. The warriors around them remained equally silent, the weight of Thunderhide’s words settling over the camp like a storm cloud. Thunderhide stood tall, his heart hammering in his chest. This was it—the moment that would determine the tribe’s fate.

Finally, the chieftain spoke, his voice a gravelly chuckle that held no humor. "You always did have a way of making decisions that no one could predict, Thunderhide," he said. His tone shifted, becoming harder, colder. "But your choice… it’s bold. And maybe it’s the best we’ve got."

Thunderhide exhaled, a sense of relief flooding him, but the chieftain wasn’t finished.

"I won’t make this decision alone," the chieftain said, his voice rising. "The tribe will decide. We’ll talk. But we’ll listen, Thunderhide. And you will answer for your choices."

Thunderhide’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “I’ll answer for whatever comes. I stand by what I’ve done.”

The chieftain studied him for a long moment before turning to address the tribe. His voice rang out, strong and commanding. "Gather around. We’ve got decisions to make."

The tribe murmured restlessly, their voices like a low rumble of thunder as they gathered in the open circle. The air was thick with tension, uncertainty hanging like a storm cloud waiting to burst. Thunderhide stood in the center, his eyes unwavering, watching as his people debated fiercely around him. His stomach churned with the knowledge that, no matter how strong his conviction, he couldn’t control what would come next. The tribe's future was now in their hands, not his.

The chieftain raised a hand, silencing the crowd, his expression grim. "Enough," he rumbled, his voice carrying authority despite the uncertainty in his tone. "We’ve heard Thunderhide’s tale. Now, we will speak of it. Speak of what’s to come."

One of the older warriors, a towering bull named Brak, snorted in contempt. "Vex is a demon. An outsider, one who doesn't understand our ways. We've been enslaved once, and now we're supposed to follow him?" His hooves scraped the ground, a sign of his frustration. "We are minotaurs, freeborn. To bow before anyone, even for glory, is to abandon what we've stood for. Our people fought for their freedom, their pride, their autonomy. This Vex may offer power, but at what cost?"

The crowd murmured in agreement, but another warrior, Torak, a younger, more ambitious minotaur, slammed his fist against the stone ground. "We are nothing but savages in the eyes of the world. The kingdom is gone, and we are left to raid and scrape by for scraps. This Vex... he offers us a chance to rise. To rebuild. To make our tribe into something more. We could become a clan, a force that the world fears, not scorns."

"Fear isn't respect," Brak spat back, his eyes flashing with anger. "You think Vex can make us legendary? He’ll use us, just like the last warlord. We’re his tools, nothing more. And when his plans fail, where will we be? Dead, or worse. Slaves once more."

"But what if he succeeds?" Torak's voice was pleading, his eyes alight with the dream of something greater. "If he brings back our warriors, if he helps us reclaim our honor... We could be more than what we are now. We could finally earn respect, not through blood and terror, but through power, through might. They would fear our name again."

"You don’t understand," Brak growled, his hooves stamping. "We’ve lost too much to trust a demon. Even if he can bring back our warriors, what will he demand in return? Our very souls? Our freedom? No deal’s worth that."

The chieftain, ever calm, raised his hand again. "Brak speaks of our freedom. But Torak speaks of our future. And therein lies the heart of this decision. We can continue as we are, wanderers and raiders, or we can gamble on Vex’s vision. But there is a price."

"One that may be worth it," said a quiet voice from the back. It was Gaul, a female warrior, her hooves strong and steady, her voice cutting through the arguments like a blade. "We’ve already lost much. Our king. Our God. Our honor. All gone with the fall of the kingdom. We raid, we fight, we survive, but... Is that enough?" She looked at Thunderhide, her eyes full of conflicted thoughts. "If Vex could bring us to glory, if he could bring back our brothers and make us a force that even the kingdom would fear, is that not a worthy cause?"

Her words seemed to hang in the air, a challenge to both sides. Several warriors exchanged uncertain glances, the seeds of doubt sown in their minds. Gaul’s voice was steady, filled with a quiet power that resonated with many of them.

The chieftain let the silence settle for a long while. He could see the tribe’s doubts, their desires, their conflicting needs. They craved glory, but they feared losing their identity. They craved power, but they feared being slaves to another’s will.

Finally, the chieftain spoke again, his voice low but resolute. "We have lost much. Our God. Our king. Our honor. But we are still here. We are still minotaurs. And what we decide now, Thunderhide, will be the course of our future. We are not foolish enough to follow blindly, nor are we weak enough to cower in the shadows forever. If Vex can bring back our warriors, if he can show us the path to power and respect, then we will follow him. But if he fails... we will show him the price of failure."

Thunderhide's heart tightened in his chest. The decision was clear now. It wasn’t just about his future, or even the future of the tribe—it was about their legacy. They had already given up on so much. Could they truly risk everything for one final chance at glory?

"Then it’s settled," the chieftain said, his voice final. "Vex will have our allegiance, but only if he succeeds. If he fails, Thunderhide will stand by his side on the spike. And we will make sure no one forgets the price of betrayal."

Thunderhide's eyes hardened, and for the first time, he felt the weight of their decision settle fully on his shoulders. There was no turning back now. He had led them here, and he would stand by Vex through this war, no matter the cost. But the chieftain’s words echoed in his mind: If he fails… Thunderhide knew the stakes. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t allow it.

"Agreed," Thunderhide said, his voice deep and unwavering. "We stand together. In victory, or in defeat, we will face the consequences. And we will not be forgotten."

The tribe let out a low murmur of approval, some with hesitation, others with quiet excitement. They were taking a gamble, but it was the only choice that made sense. The only choice left for a people who had already lost so much.

As Thunderhide turned and began to walk away, heading toward the distant fort where Vex awaited, he felt the tribe’s eyes on him. Their future was now intertwined with his, and with Vex’s success or failure. The path forward was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the legacy of the minotaurs would be forged in the fires of this war, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Author's Note

Hey everyone, Trashmanic here! Chapter 16 of The Shadows We INHERIT is up! In this one, we get a closer look at how Jinx and Thunderhide are handling the task that Vex set before them. Originally, I had plans for the Grand Galloping Gala arc to take place around this time, but I’ve decided to shift focus. I want Vex to be more established as a warlord first, so this arc is going to delve into the Minotaur Kingdom and give us some much-needed character development. Hope you all enjoy this change of pace!

Chapter 17: Reunion

The stone double doors to the prisoners' cells exploded inward, shards of rock scattering across the corridor. Crystal guards stumbled back, disoriented, as I emerged from the cloud of dust and smoke. My armored form gleamed faintly in the dim light, each step resonating with an ominous thud. Raising a single finger, I unleashed several beams of pure white magic, each one streaking through the air with precision and vaporizing the hapless guards. They scrambled to retreat, their cowardice fueling my disdain.

As they fled deeper into the base, I snapped my fingers, summoning walls of shadow to seal the door behind them. Let them cower in the dark—I would find them soon enough. For now, my focus was here. My gaze swept the dimly lit chamber, and satisfaction crept into my thoughts. Yes, this was the place. My minions had been held here once before, and if my information was correct, the last remaining mut under my command—aside from the pony and griffin not affiliated with the Thunderhide Tribe—was still trapped here.

I strode forward with deliberate purpose, my armored form towering over the feeble creature in the cage. The diamond dog whimpered, his fear rolling off him in waves, a palpable, almost intoxicating scent. I savored it. Fear was such a useful tool. The dog’s wide eyes locked on me, his trembling form frozen in place as I gripped the iron bars of his cage.

The warding magic on the bars flared to life, sparking and crackling against my armor, but it was a futile resistance. I could feel the enchantment straining, its power insignificant against my presence. The metal beneath my gauntlet began to glow, heating to a deep orange as I leaned in closer, my glowing white eyes boring into his.

"Well, mut," I said, my voice a smooth, chilling whisper, laced with just enough venom to send shivers down his spine. "It seems your loyalty wasn’t misplaced after all. And here I thought I’d find you in a pile of bones by now. Lucky you."

The diamond dog was the first to look me in the eye—or try to, anyway. His ears flattened, tail tucked between his legs like a kicked mutt. Pathetic.

“W-Who you?” he stammered, his voice shaking like a loose hinge.

I blinked, staring at him. “What?”

His head tilted to the side like I’d just asked him to solve advanced calculus.

“It’s me,” I said, pointing at myself. “Vex. You know, the guy who gave you those awesome shadow powers? Ring a bell?”

Nothing. Just that same dumb, slack-jawed expression.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I gestured at the indestructible armor wrapping me from head to toe. “You seriously don’t recognize me in this? It’s me—the guy who made you more than a scavenger. The Father of Shadows?”

Still nothing.

I groaned, rubbing my temples like the very act of talking to him was draining my will to live. “Unbelievable. You’re lucky I don’t just shove you back in that cage for this.”

With a snap of my fingers, I conjured a replica of my head out of shadows—horns, glowing eyes, the whole terrifying package. I held it up to his face, the shadowy visage smirking back at him. “How about now? Does this jog your flea-bitten memory?”

The diamond dog’s eyes went wide, and he gasped like I’d just descended from the heavens. “Boss! You back! We thought you ran off with them Sombra boys!”

“No, I didn’t run off with the shiny crystal rejects.” I smirked, letting the shadow head dissipate in a swirl of smoke. “I was busy. Unlike you lot, I actually get things done. But now I’m back, and I’m here to fulfill my end of the deal.”

With a flick of my wrist, the shadows around me came alive, curling and twisting like eager vipers. They shot toward the cages, slicing through the bars like they were paper.

“Get moving!” I barked, stepping aside. “Unless you want to stay here and rot. Your call.”

The captives stumbled out, looking groggy and confused. A griffon stretched his wings with a groan, a unicorn muttered under her breath, and the diamond dog sniffed the air like it owed him rent. My eyes drifted to the group of minotaurs standing at the back, big and scarred and glaring at me like they’d rather still be locked up.

I smacked the diamond dog on the back, leaning in close. “Any word on the Gorkjaw Pack while I’ve been gone?”

The mutt perked up, glancing around like he had state secrets to share. “Yeah, yeah! Them mutts ran off. Heard some o’ the guards talkin’ ‘bout knights from the Arch House comin’ to squash some demon near the village. Guess them idiots thought it was you, what with all the Crystal Boys sniffin’ around.”

I nodded, letting my magic seep into the shadows around me. They slithered off, creeping through the rubble to scavenge supplies. Anything useful would find its way back to me soon enough.

My attention shifted to the Thunderhide Tribe—big, scarred brutes who clearly weren’t thrilled to see me. I crossed my arms, letting the silence hang heavy before breaking it.

“Alright,” I said, smirking. “Let’s not pretend you’re happy I’m here. But I just saved your hides, so you owe me. Big time.”

One of them, a mountain of muscle with a face like a smashed anvil, grunted. Not exactly a thank you, but I wasn’t here for their gratitude.

“Here’s how this works,” I continued, my tone sharp. “I didn’t bust you out so you could charge off and get yourselves killed. Stay close, do what I say, and maybe—maybe—you’ll live to see tomorrow.”

The griffon shot me a look like he wanted to argue, and the unicorn seemed like she was debating whether to run. I didn’t care. My shadows stirred at my feet, writhing like they were just waiting for me to give the order to end this little reunion.

“Now,” I said, glancing over the group, “are we missing anyone? Because I’m not coming back to this dump for stragglers.”

The mutts and griffons muttered among themselves, doing a quick headcount before shaking their heads.

“Good,” I said, raising a hand as the air around us began to hum with power. Shadows curled around my fingers, and the ground trembled as the teleportation spell began to take shape.

As the magic built up, a thought nagged at the back of my mind. For all the spells I’d used, all the power I’d tapped into, I still didn’t understand how my magic worked. Was it draining my soul? My sanity? Or was I just burning through time I didn’t know I had?

The answers didn’t matter. Not now.

The unicorn piped up, her voice sharp and trembling, “What are you doing? What—what spell is this?”

I didn’t bother turning to look at her, focusing instead on weaving the magic through the air. “What does it look like? I’m teleporting us out of this dump. Pay attention, will you?”

Her eyes went wide, and she stumbled back a step, shaking her head like I’d just announced I was about to blow us all up. “You can’t do that!” she shouted, her voice climbing into a near shriek. “You can’t just teleport over the mountain! It’s too dense—there’s no way! No one has that much magic! You’ll— you’ll get us stuck! Or fused into the mountain!”

Her panic only made me grin. I turned to her, shadows flickering around me like eager flames. “Your lack of faith is... disturbing,” I said, letting the smirk on my face widen into something sharper, something more dangerous.

She froze, her terror tangible as she clutched her chest and took another step back. The others were watching now—silent, tense—but I didn’t care. This wasn’t a debate.

With a sharp snap of my fingers, the spell activated, and a blinding white light swallowed us whole.

The white stone fortress rose around us, its black veins of shadow pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. The air itself seemed to hum with power, my power. I let the moment linger, relishing the shock on their faces as they began to realize where they were.

The unicorn stumbled to her hooves, her eyes darting around in panic. Her lips moved, trying to form words, but her fear choked them back until she finally stammered, “This… this is the Stronghorn Dominion!”

I tilted my head slightly, amused at her recognition. She wasn’t wrong.

One of the Minotaurs grunted, his voice heavy with disbelief. “I know this place… This is Fort Rapture. How did we get here?”

Good. Let them question. Let the seeds of doubt sprout into fear.

“It’s not possible!” the unicorn blurted, her panic mounting. “You can’t teleport out of the mountain, let alone across kingdoms! Only the princesses could do that!”

I turned toward her slowly, letting the shadows clinging to my armor ripple and shift as though alive. Through my visor, I could see her trembling, her wide eyes fixed on me. I allowed a smirk to curl beneath my helm.

Foolish creature. Always so quick to believe in limits. That’s the difference between them and me. I don’t believe in limits. I am the one who defines what’s possible.

“You’ll learn soon enough,” I said, my voice smooth and cold. “I decide what is and isn’t possible. I am Vex, the Father of Shadows, and soon to be Lord of this land!”

As the words left my lips, I could feel the weight of them settle over the group like a suffocating blanket. Most stood frozen, but one Minotaur stepped forward, his hoof scraping against the stone as he puffed out his chest.

He snorted, his contempt practically radiating off him. “You’re nothing but a coward,” he growled, his voice low and full of venom. “Picking on runts and acting like you own the place. No one owns these lands—least of all some weak wannabe outsider!”

I stared at him, my expression unreadable beneath the helmet, but inside, I felt a spark of amusement. Weak wannabe outsider? Interesting. Let’s see how brave he feels in a moment.

He roared, swinging a massive fist directly at my stomach. The blow connected with a resounding clang, but I didn’t budge. His arm trembled, the vibrations of his own punch traveling back through his bones. A pained gasp escaped him as his bravado shattered.

Pathetic.

Before he could recover, I struck. My fist slammed into his chest with enough force to send him flying across the courtyard. His massive frame collided with the wall, cracking it and shaking the very foundation of the fortress.

I straightened, brushing imaginary dust from my gauntlet. Inside, I felt a flicker of satisfaction. One example made. Let’s see if anyone else is foolish enough to test me.

The remaining Minotaurs looked at me, their uncertainty now tinged with fear. The silence stretched until one of them, emboldened by desperation, found his voice.

“What’s stopping us from taking you down right here and now? It’s one against twenty-four!”

I chuckled, low and dark. The sound echoed across the courtyard, reverberating in their ears. Slowly, I raised a hand.

“Who said I was alone?”

From the shadows around us, they emerged—hulking figures of living darkness with glowing white eyes. My Shadow Brutes. They towered over even the largest Minotaurs, their growls and the slithering sound of their tendrils filling the air with a menacing rhythm.

I took a step forward, letting my glowing eyes shine through the visor as I spoke.

“You stand before Vex, Father of Shadows. This fortress is mine. I am its master, its ruler. You may leave if you wish, but if you stay, you will serve. Together, we will reclaim these lands and forge a new kingdom. Oppose me…” I gestured toward the crumpled form of the Minotaur against the wall. “And you will share his fate. Now, bow or break. The choice is yours.”

And they will choose wisely, I thought as I watched the fear grow in their eyes. They always do.

As the crowd of Minotaurs and other creatures knelt before me, I surveyed them with dark amusement, the shadows around me pulsing like a living thing. Their fear was palpable, and it was delicious. This was power—not just in strength, but in presence.

They bow now, but fear only lasts so long. I’ll need loyalty, and for that, I’ll need structure.

I turned my gaze to the Diamond Dog, the one who had been cowering in his cage just hours before. He stood frozen, his nervous eyes darting between me and the others. I gestured for him to come forward, and he obeyed, his steps hesitant.

“What is your name?” I asked, my voice low and commanding.

“R-Rex,” he stammered, his ears flat against his head.

“Rex,” I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue as if testing its worth. “From this moment on, you will be more than a scavenger cowering in a cage. You will oversee these… recruits.”

I extended my hand, shadows pouring forth like a tide to envelop Rex. The darkness wrapped around him, seeping into his fur, his very being. His eyes began to glow white, a reflection of the transformation I had bestowed upon him.

“You are now a Shadowbound,” I declared. “An extension of my will. Lead them into the fort and ensure they understand their place here. Make them feel at home… or remind them why they should obey.”

Rex nodded, his newfound confidence evident as he turned to the others and barked orders. I left them to it, retreating into the depths of the fortress.

As I walked, I couldn’t help but reflect on how well this little trip had gone. For once, things had turned in my favor. A welcome change, considering the beatings and humiliations I’d endured since arriving in this world. The Equestrians… if I had given myself up to them, I’d be dead by now.

A grim chuckle escaped me. No, there was no place for someone like me in their world of harmony and light. I was the antithesis of everything they stood for, a living embodiment of dark magic. If they ever found out about me, I’d be Public Enemy Number One.

I’ll have to keep growing. More power, more allies, more control. Military or magical, it doesn’t matter. I’ll need it all if I’m going to survive.

My hand drifted to my neck, gripping it unconsciously as I mulled over my predicament. There’s no redemption for me. No escape. I’ve gone too far—destroyed villages, made pacts, consumed darkness like it was lifeblood. Karma’s a bitch, and I’m overdue for payback. But if it’s coming for me, I’ll make damn sure I’m ready.

My musings were interrupted when I noticed something unusual. Hoofprints, etched into the walls of the fortress. They twisted and turned in chaotic patterns, crossing over each other before splitting into three distinct paths.

What in the—?

My eyes followed the erratic trail until they landed on the source of the disturbance. Jinx, cocooned in webbing, dangling from the ceiling like a trapped fly.

I stopped and stared for a long moment, my irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. Arachnia. Of course.

Using my shadows, I lifted myself up to Jinx’s level. He looked at me with an awkward, almost sheepish expression, as if he’d been caught sneaking cookies from the jar.

“Alright,” I said, my tone eerily calm. “I’m going to remove the webbing, and you’re going to tell me if this is or isn’t a coup attempt by Arachnia.”

Jinx shook his head rapidly. “No! No coup! It’s just Arachnia being… Arachnia.”

I narrowed my glowing eyes at him, then nodded. With a flick of my hand, the shadows unraveled the webbing, letting him drop unceremoniously to the ground with a yelp.

“Good,” I said, descending after him. “Because if it was, she’d learn very quickly that I don’t tolerate insubordination.”

Jinx scrambled to his hooves, muttering something about needing to get back to work. I watched him scurry off, shaking my head.

This little empire of mine is already proving to be a circus. But no matter. I’ll whip them into shape… one way or another.

I stormed into the dimly lit chamber, my shadowy form stretching unnaturally across the walls. My glowing white eyes burned with fury as I took in the scene before me. Two of Arachnia’s spider-like servants froze mid-motion—one holding a cluster of grapes, the other fanning the air with a silky webbing-crafted fan.

They regarded me with disdain, their chittering voices dripping with condescension.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our glorious Father of Shadows, gracing us with his presence,” one of them mocked, setting the grapes aside.

“Truly, we are unworthy to bask in his magnificence,” the other sneered, bowing exaggeratedly.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking our mistress for allowing you to disturb her rest, little imp?” the first spat, her many eyes narrowing as she glared at me.

I didn’t bother to respond. With a flick of my wrist, tendrils of shadow erupted from the floor, wrapping tightly around the two servants, sealing their mouths in suffocating silence. Their muffled protests and frantic wriggling only fueled the suffocating aura of darkness radiating from me as I marched toward Arachnia.

There she was, sprawled elegantly across her silken pillow. Her white hair gleamed faintly in the gloom, and her glowing eyes remained half-lidded, showing no sign of concern despite the chaos unfolding around her.

“Explain,” I growled, my voice a low hiss, laced with barely restrained fury. My patience was wearing thin, and she was at the center of it all.

She didn’t even glance at me. Instead, she lazily reached for a grape with one of her spindly legs and popped it into her mouth, chewing it leisurely as if I wasn’t standing in front of her in a rage. “You’ll have to be more specific, Vex,” she replied coolly. “I do so many things worth explaining.”

Her calmness only ignited my rage further. In a flash, I closed the distance between us, my claws gripping her throat and hoisting her off the pillow. Her glowing eyes snapped wide open, and she met my burning white gaze with surprising calmness.

“This isn’t a game,” I snarled, my voice low and venomous. The shadows around us pulsed with my anger, the air growing colder by the second. “You know what I’m talking about. My empire is on the verge of being born, and I will not have my subordinates acting like squabbling children!”

Arachnia clawed lightly at my arm, but the strained smile that tugged at her lips remained despite the pressure on her neck. “My, my… such passion. You’d almost make me think you care about something.”

I tightened my grip, leaning in close, our faces inches apart. “Do not test me, Arachnia. I’ve allowed you to play your games long enough. Now, tell me why you thought it wise to pull this latest stunt.”

For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine unease cross her features. “It was a joke,” she rasped, her voice still laced with defiance but now tinged with caution. “A bit of fun between coworkers. You really need to lighten up, Vex.”

The glow of my eyes intensified, and the shadows around us writhed menacingly. “Fun? You think this is fun? Do you know what I do to people who jeopardize my plans?”

Her smile faltered, and she nodded quickly. “Point made. I see now why you needed that ring,” she added, her voice mocking but with a hint of wariness. “You let your emotions get the better of you, darling. No wonder you’re afraid of losing control.”

With a frustrated growl, I released her, letting her collapse back onto her pillow. She adjusted herself, rubbing her neck but offering no further resistance.

“Your antics end here, Arachnia,” I said, my voice colder now, more composed, though the rage still simmered beneath the surface. “You are valuable, but you are not irreplaceable. Don’t make me remind you of that again.”

She inclined her head slightly, that faint smirk returning to her lips. “Understood, Father of Shadows. I’ll be on my best behavior. You have my word.”

I held her gaze for a moment longer, the intensity of my stare enough to make her shift uncomfortably. Then, without another word, I turned and walked out of the room, the shadows trailing after me like a dark storm.

Once I was gone, I knew she would be back to her games in no time. But for now, I had made my point.

Blackshard popped his head out of a barrel when he heard the familiar sound of teleportation magic. He let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the empty room. “Oh, thank the Arch Maker they passed,” he muttered, holding a hoof to his chest before yelling out, “The coast is clear! Y’all can come out!”

A figure dropped from the ceiling, landing gracefully and without a sound in front of Blackshard. Shadow Mist stretched her wings. “So... what now? We obviously can’t stay here. This base is compromised.”

“And the bosses ran off like cowards,” Stonehoof growled as he threw off a tarp and strode over, brushing gravel off his beige coat. “Plus, we’ve got the Arch Houses coming after us, and there’s no way we can sneak past them. None of us have the mana reserves to teleport out of a damn mountain.”

“We could use a slave as a bargaining tool?” Shadow Mist suggested with a shrug.

Stonehoof glanced around the empty room and cages. “You’re more than welcome to try—if you can find one.”

“Well, we can’t just give up! You know what House Daybreaker and House Nocturna do to Dark Empire loyalists—they’d burn us at the stake!” Shadow Mist said, panic creeping into her voice.

“And they’d skin us alive if we put up a resistance!” Stonehoof shot back, his tone rising in anger.

“Everypony shut the hell up!” Blackshard yelled, stepping between them. “Here’s what we’re going to do: discard the armor, make yourselves look like a mess—I don’t care how. Roll around in the dirt if you have to. We’ll try to sneak out. If they find us, we’ll play it off like we’re slaves. Who’s gonna recognize us anyway? All the slaves went with that demon, right?” He looked at them both, waiting for their response.

Stonehoof shook his head. “That’s not gonna work. We don’t have the marks of a slave, and if we whip ourselves now, they’ll know the difference between fresh wounds and old ones. We’re not the first to think of this plan.”

“True,” Blackshard admitted, “but they’d have to take us to a specialist to figure that out. It should work well enough to stop those brutish knights from beheading us on the spot.”

“Eh, fair enough. Heh, I guess you’ll have to get your mane dirty, Shadow Mist—oh?” Stonehoof cut himself off, surprised to see Shadow Mist already rolling around in the dirt, desperately trying to make herself look disheveled.

“What?” she said, noticing the stares. “I may like to keep my lovely coat and mane clean and beautiful, but it won’t matter if my head’s cut off.” She continued rolling around as Blackshard and Stonehoof exchanged a bemused look.

With a shrug, they joined her, rolling on the ground to complete their disguises.

Stonehoof stood up, brushing off the dirt. "Listen, I know a way out," he said, his voice low. "It’s an old escape tunnel, but it leads to the other side of the mountain—near Equestria."

Blackshard raised an eyebrow. "Equestria? We can’t go there!"

Stonehoof’s gaze hardened. "It’s our only shot. If we move fast and keep our heads low, we can be out before they even realize we’re gone."

Shadow Mist looked uneasy. "And what happens if they catch us? Equestria won’t be kind to us."

"We don’t have time to debate," Stonehoof replied. "It’s either this or wait to be captured. We move now."

Blackshard nodded. "Lead the way."

Without hesitation, Stonehoof turned and led them down the narrow tunnel, urging them to keep quiet and move fast. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

The wind screamed through the jagged mountain passes as I trudged along a razor-thin trail beside Grimbeak. Every step he took was punctuated by the click of his scarred beak—a relentless reminder of battles long past—while I, covered in dirt and weariness, bore the weight of weeks spent in captivity.

“Do you reckon we’ll ever get out of this forsaken place?” I asked, forcing a confident tone even though every fiber of my being trembled with doubt.

Grimbeak’s gravelly chuckle answered me before he spoke. “Out? We’re as far from sanctuary as a dying ember is from a flame. And if you mean outrunning Crystallus and his rotten lot, well—we’re still drawing breath, aren’t we?”

I stole a glance at the steep drop ahead. My heart pounded as I muttered, “I’d rather not test how far I can fall.” Even as I spoke, I couldn’t shake the chill that crept along my spine.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Listen, kid, we’re hardly in a position to outrun an army—especially with those shadow-infested minotaurs still prowling about. You remember what happened to the others.” His tone carried a heavy mix of warning and bitter resolve.

A shudder wracked me. “You really think we’ll end up like them?”

Grimbeak’s golden eyes bore into mine. “Not if you keep that stubborn spark alive. You’re no sellout—you haven’t traded your soul for power yet.”

Despite his words, a gnawing emptiness settled in my chest. “Sometimes,” I admitted under my breath, “I just want to vanish… escape it all.”

Before I could dwell further on my despair, the narrow path split open into a yawning, dark canyon. In a heartbeat, Grimbeak seized my arm and vaulted over the gap, landing with a resounding thud amid an eerie silence that made my pulse quicken even more.

“Keep moving,” he barked, leaving no room for debate. “We stop for nothing.”

I followed close behind, my senses alert as we rounded a bend to a feeble glow—a solitary campfire flickering weakly in the darkness. Cautiously, we approached, and there, sprawled near the dying light, lay a stallion. His coat was bloodstained and torn, and for a moment, I wondered if death had finally claimed him.

“Is he dead?” I asked, my voice scarcely above a whisper.

Grimbeak hesitated, scanning the figure. “Could be… but we’ve got no time to dally with sympathy.”

No sooner had he begun to move the body than the stallion’s eyes snapped open—an eerie, unworldly green—and his enchanted sword burst into the air with a wild slash of steel. Reflexively, both Grimbeak and I dove aside as sparks of magic crackled around us.

“Steady now—calm down!” Grimbeak roared, a rare note of genuine concern cutting through his usual gruffness. “You’re alive, for God’s sake! Settle yourself.”

The stallion staggered, gasping as he retorted, “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! I’m not dying again!”

Grimbeak’s sharp gaze flickered over him. “You’re no Minotaur—so how in blazes did you end up like this?”

A bitter laugh escaped him as he pushed himself upright. “Luckyhoof of House Windbrook,” he declared, though his tone held neither pride nor cheer. “I wasn’t dead—just knocked senseless. And this blood?” He gestured vaguely, as if it were an unwelcome mark on his fate. “It isn’t even mine.”

I frowned, my mind churning with questions. “But you look like you’ve danced with demons.”

He met my gaze with a conflicted smirk. “I have. I’ve been hunted by the Stronghorn Dominion—fought them off, been captured, escaped, and then ambushed all over again. It’s a never-ending nightmare.” His voice carried a dangerous mix of nobility and something darker—a calculated edge that belied his noble birth. “And this sword,” he added with a crooked smile that never quite reached his eyes, “is enchanted to remain ever-sharp, even when reason would have it dull.”

Grimbeak grunted in approval. “If you’re still kicking, you’re doing better than most.”

Luckyhoof’s smirk widened ever so slightly. “I suppose I’m still in the game. Mind if I stick around a while? I could use some company that isn’t out for my blood—or worse, already six feet under.”

Grimbeak gave a curt nod that said more than words ever could. And there we were—a ragtag trio bound by circumstance: a grizzled veteran with a past as scarred as his beak, and a stallion whose noble lineage now bloody and battered. As I surveyed the uncertain faces in the flickering firelight, I couldn’t help but wonder if this uneasy alliance was our only hope of finding a way out—or if we were simply stumbling further into the jaws of darkness.

Chapter 1: Small Town Troubles - (Timberlake)

"Run for your life!"

"Somepony save my foal!"

"Screw our kid! There's a demon sent to punish us for... something, something evil!"

Ponies were panicking like I was some hellspawn. Sure, I looked intimidating, but not abandon-your-child-to-save-yourself intimidating! I considered bolting before they started throwing rocks, but I had a more pressing issue: where the hell was I?

Option one: Current timeline, show’s still running. Easy. Just dodge the main characters and I'm good. Worst-case, I leave and start fresh somewhere.

Option two: Past, and I’m about to get blasted by Celestia and Luna for no reason. Maybe I’ll even inspire Nightmare Moon! If that happens, I’ll start practicing stone-pose ideas for when they freeze me into a lawn ornament. Lucky me.

"Still running, huh?" I muttered, watching them scramble in circles, too dumb to realize they were going nowhere. Funny, if it weren’t so tragic. And they’ll probably run straight to the princesses for help. Unless…

"Hey, shadow buddy! Got anything to calm them down?" I called out, and a blob of darkness swelled up around the ponies, trapping them in a shrinking dome.

"Oh, crap! I mean, no harm! No harm!" I panicked, waving my hand. A pair of glowing white eyes blinked back at me from the dome, giving me the most deadpan stare ever. Classic.

"Alright, alright, I’ll fix it," I muttered. With a wave of my hand, I summoned a cold chill, letting dark magic flood my fingers. The ponies collapsed, unconscious, like a row of sleepy dominoes.

I couldn’t help but smirk. Ah, magic. The ultimate cheat code in the chaos of life.

"Remember, keep it local. We don’t need a big scene, my trusty shadow," I said with a smirk.

With that, I strolled toward the shopping district, while the shadows slinked off to cause some minor chaos. The town won’t know what hit it—literally.

High above Timberlake, a white-coated pegasus with a green mane gawked at the chaos below.

"Definitely inhaled too much cloud vapor," he muttered, about to go back to his personal misty indulgence, when two shadowy figures caught his eye.

One twisted like a spring, while the other hopped on top, bouncing higher and higher until they reached a rogue cloud. Then, that cloud puked a bolt of dark energy right at him. Rinse and repeat, each time getting closer.

"What the hell? Am I tripping or is this a circus act from Hell?" he yelped, heart hammering.

Before he could bolt, a dark energy blast hit him square in the chest, sending him spiraling into a fast, unintentional nosedive.

With a sickening crunch, he crashed to the ground. Silence hung in the air as he weakly tried to call for help, but his body, now as numb as a frozen fish, had other plans.

I yanked the map from the void swallowing my body and eyed the speck of land known as Equestria. Well, at least I had a rough idea of where I was now.

Maybe the other species here won’t flip out like the ponies. That’s usually how these things go, right? Ponies lose their minds, and the other creatures are chill.

A glance at a nearby shop window revealed a human version of the Pony of Shadows. Great naming, guys. Just throw some demonic horns in there for that extra “edge.” Classic.

Also, discovered something fun: I can feed off fear. So, I could jump-scare a pony for a quick meal or energy boost. Tempting, really, but I figured the fear from earlier would hold me over for now. Maybe I’ll skip the Dragon Lands—they’re magic-resistant. Zebras are all cryptic and mysterious, and Griffons? Basically obnoxious, magic-less ponies. Minotaur Lands, though? Buff me up, baby.

I tried flexing but ended up looking like a poorly drawn stick figure. Meh. Anyway, Equestria’s probably the best bet for some dimensional travel magic or a spellbook. "Oh, right. The Pony of Shadows had some evil lair or something, didn’t he? Hey, shadow buddy, know where that is?"

...

"Yeah, right, he's too busy spell-casting to notice me. Guess I’ll hit a library or bookstore. Who knows what weird magic I can dig up—or find something to remove this creepy shadow curse. Oh! Or, what if there's a plant that—wait. Does that exist? A plant that makes your you-know-what fall off?!"

With that horrifying thought in my head, I bolted for the nearest bookstore. Desperate times, desperate measures.

"Uh, Boss, how’d dis Pegasus end up like dis?" the small Diamond Dog asked, poking the lifeless pony with a stick. Each jab sent dark sparks flying, making him flinch. "And what’s with the sparkin’?"

Bill, the massive Diamond Dog, stared at the crater where the pony had crashed. The pony’s neck was twisted at an angle that screamed bad fall, but Pegasi had magic to cushion their landings.

"I dunno, but somethin’s off," Bill muttered, looking around. "Dis place ain’t right. We need to tell the guards."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Why bother? They’ll blame us, like always."

Bill grunted. "’Cause whatever did this ain't stoppin' here. It’s comin’ for us next, I can feel it. Our den’s too close."

With a sigh, Bill turned. "Let’s go. Ain’t nobody safe 'round here."

The two dogs trotted off, leaving the twitching Pegasus behind.

Good news: most things won’t mess with your junk. Bad news: I’m stuck in post-Sombra, pre-Nightmare Moon Equestria. Great. After Luna’s meltdown, it should be smooth sailing, right? Nothing interesting happens for the next thousand years. By the time that rolls around, I’ll be long gone.

Kicking back in my chair, I waited for the inevitable. Maybe Sombra left behind some dark magic? My shadow buddy could gobble it up and get a power boost. Fun, right?

But as I relaxed, something felt... off. The room seemed darker than usual. What time was it, anyway? Early afternoon?

I glanced at the window, only to see the sun sinking fast. My eyes nearly shot out of my skull as I bolted upright.

"Hold up! Why the hell am I still here? I’ve got everything I need. Unless… nah, I’m just overthinking this. Time to bounce. Hey, buddy, get your ass over here!" I barked, shoving books and random useful crap into my bag.

Within minutes, I’d gathered everything and was headed toward the town square, our arrival point.

Ponies were still passed out, waiting for the spell to wear off. I should probably lift that at some point. "Buddy, you done yet?"

"Hiss."

"I'll take that as a yes." Shadow wisps snaked through the town, gathering at our exit point.

A weird, ominous feeling crept over me. It wasn’t my own paranoia. Someone was watching. The Night Princess? Nah, she’s too busy with her ego to lurk in the shadows. Her sister? Nope, she loves a good entrance. The guards?

I zeroed in on a flicker of movement in the alley. A small, stealthy figure, lurking like a pro. Whoever it was was connected to the princess. Probably a guard, but this felt... off. The shadows around them weren’t normal, like some dark, suffocating barrier.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and as the moon took its place, everything turned sinister. The shadows stretched long, hiding whatever secrets were left. This night was about to get a lot weirder.

Author's Note

Hey, TrashManic here, and I've finally taken a swing at the whole "human in an alternative Equestria" thing. I've always liked alternative Equestria and villainous humans, mainly because of the vast exploration and world-building opportunities they present. So, I decided to throw my hat into the ring. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the story so far, and if not, please let me know why. I'm pretty new at this, so I expect there to be a few problems.

Edit:
Robert

Bill and Puck

Chapter 2: The 401 - (Timberlake)

Captain Steelwing leaned against the counter, eyeing the two nervous Diamond dogs in front of her. "So, let me get this straight," she said, eyebrow raised, "you're telling me a Pegasus was murdered near Timberlake, and it looks like some dark magic was involved?"

Bill, the bigger dog, nodded. "Yep, it was a bad scene. The poor guy was basically a walking shadow when we found him, all crumpled up in a crater. Nothin' good about it."

Steelwing sighed. "And your names for the record?"

Puck cleared his throat. "Puck. This is Bill."

"Right, Puck and Bill," Steelwing said, making a mental note. "And you think there's a dark mage hiding out near Timberlake?"

The dogs both nodded, their eyes wide.

"Great," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "Did you hear or see anything else? Anyone acting weird?"

They both shook their heads. "Just the usual. Spooky silence. Nothing special."

Steelwing took a deep breath, the weight of the situation hitting her. "Okay, I'll send a team trained in dark magic. They'll be here soon. In the meantime, tell your den to stay alert. We'll handle it from here."

As the dogs left, looking both relieved and terrified, Steelwing couldn't shake the feeling this was only the beginning. She muttered to herself, "Better to face this mess now than deal with it later." Then she grumbled, "And I’ll have to explain this to the Day Guard... great."

Starrise, a prim unicorn with a dark blue mane that conveniently hid half her face, was buried in a magical theory textbook. Her eyes scanned the pages like she was about to invent the next big thing in spells, which, honestly, was probably true. Nearby, Nightglider, the batpony with neon purple highlights in her black mane, was furiously sketching in her well-worn pad—mostly doodles of things that were definitely not safe for children’s eyes. Every now and then, she'd glance at Starrise, as if trying to figure out how anyone could be so lost in a book.

In the corner, Shadowstrike, the nerdy unicorn with the cotton-candy blue mane and round glasses, was hunched over a dusty old tome. His work area looked like the kind of place you'd get arrested for having too many flags of Princess Luna. He muttered to himself, probably about ancient curses or how to summon a bigger paycheck.

Frostbite, the massive Earth pony with ice blue hair and silver fur, finished polishing his armor with the kind of care that screamed "I'm preparing for an epic battle" but was probably just waiting for dinner. Leaning against the foot of his bed, he stared out the window, probably contemplating deep, existential questions like, "Why do ponies even need armor?"

Nightglider interrupted the peace with a grin. “Hey, Glider, what’s that? A bird?” she asked, eyeing the doodle on the pad in front of her.

Nightglider gave a shrug and a mischievous grin, adjusting her purple wings. “Eh, just keeping my hooves busy. You know me,” she teased.

Starrise, on the other hand, was glaring at her spellbook like it owed her money. “This incantation is impossible! Why won’t it work?” she groaned, flopping back in frustration.

Shadowstrike, the bookish unicorn, slipped over, adjusting his glasses like a proper nerd. “You’re putting all your focus on the second syllable. Spread the emphasis,” he suggested, tapping the page.

Starrise smiled at him, grateful, her mood lifting a bit. “Thanks, Shadowstrike. I owe you one.”

Frostbite, still polishing his armor in the corner, sighed and broke the tension. “I overheard some rumors in the mess hall. Looks like we’ve got missions coming up. Big ones.”

Nightglider perked up, practically bouncing. “Big ones? What kind of big ones? Do we get to punch things?”

Frostbite shrugged. “Dunno, but it’s probably got to do with Princess Luna and some Warlords in Equestria.”

The room fell silent.

Nightglider chewed on her pencil, zoning out. Shadowstrike closed his book with a soft thud. Starrise was already brainstorming counterspells. Frostbite stared out the window, probably thinking about the meaning of life.

Then, a knock on the door.

“Is this unit 401 of the Night Guard?” a voice called from outside.

Frostbite shot up, signaling his team to fall in line. They rushed into formation as he marched to the door.

Starrise quickly tossed her books under the bed with magic, Nightglider stuffed her secret stash of illicit romance novels under the covers, and Shadowstrike… well, Shadowstrike just kept staring at Nightglider until he plucked a number 2 pencil out of her mane.

“Uh, whoops!” she said, embarrassed, but Shadowstrike just shrugged and stuffed it in his pocket.

Frostbite swung open the door, and there stood Miss Steelwing, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine with her perfect bun and professional scowl.

“Well?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Oh! Yes, yes! Sorry, come in!” Frostbite stammered, tripping over his own hooves.

Steelwing entered, clearing her throat. “We need a team for an urgent mission. You’ve passed the D.M.P. tests, right?” she asked.

Shadowstrike straightened his glasses and nodded. “We’re experts in dark magic protocols, ma’am. I aced my class in dark magic research and decryption,” he said, voice dripping with humblebrag.

“I was best in class for negating dark spells!” Starrise added, waving her hooves like she was winning a trophy.

Nightglider puffed up proudly. “Recon and air combat, highest score, that’s me. No biggie.”

Frostbite stepped forward, stone-faced. “I served in the Crystal Wars and took the D.M.P. when it was first rolled out.” He paused. “Old-school, really.”

Steelwing nodded, looking at her clipboard. “Good. How soon can you deploy?”

Shadowstrike glanced at the others. “A few minutes.”

Starrise tilted her head. “Um, whenever you’re ready?”

“I’m ready to kick butt now!” Nightglider punched the air, hovering excitedly.

“Right now,” Frostbite added, standing at attention.

Steelwing considered them for a moment, then smirked. “Alright, 15 minutes. Get ready and meet me in my office. I’ll brief you there.”

The moment she left, the group deflated. Stress gone in an instant.

As Steelwing walked down the hall, her collar gem buzzed. With a sigh, she switched it to telepathic mode. “Steelwing here.”

A familiar, gruff voice crackled through. “Ah, Steelwing, my dear. Have you met with the unit I recommended?”

Steelwing sighed, rolling her eyes. “I have. They’re... a bit green for this mission.”

His voice was dismissive. “Nonsense. They’ve got a soldier from the Crystal Wars. They’ll be fine. It’s just reconnaissance. If things go south, I’ll send reinforcements.”

Steelwing groaned. “Fine. But you’re responsible if they die.”

The voice chuckled. “I shall weep inconsolably, I’m sure. Now, I have business. A prospective investor’s interested in my new creations. Farewell.”

The call ended, and Steelwing pressed a hoof to her temple. "I need a drink," she muttered.

As if on cue, a knock at her office door.

She quickly pulled herself together, magically opening it to reveal Frostbite, already poised to knock. The rest of the team followed, looking more serious than necessary.

“I didn’t expect you all to be here so soon. Color me impressed,” Steelwing remarked with a smirk.

Shadowstrike opened his mouth, but Nightglider cut him off, slapping a hoof over his mouth. “We’re early. Totally early,” she said, glancing around like she was waiting for someone to challenge her.

Starrise cleared her throat. “Can you just tell us what’s going on now?”

Steelwing sighed. “Fine. Murder in Timberlake, possibly dark magic involved. We need you to investigate the body, figure out what magic was used, and assess the town. No one's heard from them in hours.”

The team grew more serious, ready for action.

Frostbite spoke first. “Cultist? Regular murderer?”

Steelwing shrugged. “Not sure. One body confirmed, but we don’t know what else is going on.”

Frostbite sighed, “Great. So we’re flying blind on this one.”

Steelwing handed them a map. “No engagement with any mage. Understood?”

The team nodded in agreement, and she dismissed them. “Good. Your job is intel, nothing more.”

As the unit exited, ready to head out, Steelwing’s collar gem buzzed again, this time with a call. She answered it with a long-suffering sigh.

Author's Note

Hey, TrashManic here! Chapter 2 is finally here, although not much happens in this chapter besides character introduction, foreshadowing, and world-building. I felt that these elements deserved their own chapter. I hope you're enjoying the story so far, but if not, please let me know why so I can make improvements. Stay tuned for more chapters coming soon!

Chapter 3: Surprise Investigation! - (Timberlake)

The streets were quiet, lit only by the soft glow of streetlights and the occasional chirp of crickets. Most ponies were either tucked in bed or working late, leaving the night blissfully private.

Two unicorns walked side by side down the cobblestone path. One was a dashing alabaster stallion with glowing golden eyes, an ebony mane, and a regal crimson robe that screamed "noble." He had a bit of stubble and a chunk missing from his ear, probably from an "incident" he'd never talk about. His companion was a pale azure unicorn with a fancy golden mane, wearing a crisp white shirt and brown waistcoat. His right eye was hidden behind a golden prophetic device, while a morion helmet with a white feather perched on his head like a bad fashion choice.

Together, they looked like they just stepped out of a “dashing hero” catalog, if such a thing existed.

"Ah, another perfect night under the goddesses' watchful gaze, wouldn't you agree, Goldiethine?" Evergore mused, breathing in the cool night air with exaggerated serenity.

Goldiethine shot him a side-eye, eyebrow raised. "Yeah, sure, but no need for fancy titles, my friend. You wanna ditch the formalities for this little stroll, or what?"

Evergore gave a small, apologetic chuckle. "Fair enough. But, uh, what I want to discuss is... well, it’s a bit personal, not business."

Goldiethine's gaze sharpened. "If this is about mi hunting habits, don’t even try. I ain't giving up my hunts, not for you, old buddy."

Evergore rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh please, not interested in your hunting. I’m talking about something far more fun—joining you on one of your little adventures, maybe?"

Goldiethine frowned, suspicious. "Wait, you, join me? On a hunt? What’s your angle?"

Evergore shrugged casually. "Well, that depends. I need help with a D.M.U. that's causing trouble in a nearby town. And I’ve got some shiny new weapons that need testing. Thought you’d be perfect for both."

Goldiethine’s eyes lit up, his excitement barely contained. "A D.M.U.? And you’re just telling me this now?!"

"Naturally," Evergore grinned wickedly. "I just need you to lead my ponies on the mission. They’ll test the weapons, gather data, and you... well, you get to unleash chaos on the D.M.U. like the good old days."

Goldiethine's smile matched Evergore’s, almost maniacal. "Ah, just like the old days. Let’s do it!"

Shadowstrike adjusted his glasses, the rustling of his purple robes a soft accompaniment to the eerie silence of the dirt trail. The cold air and distant sounds of nature kept the mood tense, making the trees feel more like a suffocating corridor than a peaceful path. He glanced at Starrise, nose buried in a spellbook, her purple robes gleaming in the dim light. On the other side, Frostbite, clad in heavy steel armor, had been oddly quiet ever since they’d gotten intel on the D.M.U. in Timberlake.

"Hey, Frostbite, you okay?" Shadowstrike asked. "You're kind of... zoning out there."

Frostbite didn't answer. Starrise frowned and nudged him. "Frostbite, you're scaring me. You've been acting off since we left the guard station. You sure you're up for this?"

He sighed heavily, his armor clanking. "I've fought D.M.U.s before. They’re vicious, but stupid. Power in magic, zero in brains." He looked off into the distance, his expression growing troubled. "But this one? They’re... smarter."

Starrise tilted her head. "So why are you acting so weird?"

Frostbite’s gaze hardened. "The ones who still had their wits about them... they were the dangerous ones. This D.M.U. has enough sense to not just slaughter the town right away. I don’t know if that's better or worse."

Before Shadowstrike could say more, Nightglider swooped down, looking tired but composed. "I’ve scouted the town. The victim’s near the outskirts. Most ponies are in the center, covered in some kind of blackness. They’re all frozen, sir."

Frostbite took a deep breath, steeling himself. "We’ll check the body first. Starrise, look for mind-altering spells. Nightstrike, figure out what kind of dark magic we're dealing with. Nightglider, you’re on crowd control. If things go sideways, you keep those ponies safe."

They all nodded, ready to get moving. Dust kicked up as they headed toward the town, the sound of hooves clinking on the cobblestone growing louder. The forest thinned, revealing a town shrouded in ominous dark clouds, the lake eerily still behind it.

Frostbite scanned the sky, noting the clusters of clouds gathering—one near the outskirts, another toward the center of town. "Where exactly did you say the body was?" he asked Nightglider, his voice laced with caution.

"Under the nearest patch of clouds," Nightglider replied, sounding uneasy. "But I swear those clouds weren't there before."

Shadowstrike pulled out an ancient tome, flipping through its blackened pages. His hoof stopped on a particularly disturbing illustration. "Skyward Tethering," he muttered. "Similar to the ones used during the Battle for the Pegasus Pinnacle. Starrise, I’m sure you’ve got the technical details on this, huh?"

Starrise raised an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Shadowstrike grinned. "You know, because you're the magical genius and all."

Starrise squinted at the swirling tar-like magic in the storm clouds, her horn flickering with fire. "Tempest Cloudbind, but this is... new. It's like someone dipped dark magic in molasses," she muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. "But hey, I got this."

With a flick of her horn, a bright ball of light shot into the sky, disappearing into the ominous clouds. The team waited, awkwardly. Nightglider tilted her head. "So... is something supposed to happen?"

Before Starrise could answer, the clouds exploded in flames and black lightning, turning pure white once more. "Well, that was... slower than I expected," Starrise said, shoulders sagging.

Frostbite grunted, eyeing the chaos. "Someone's been messing with powerful spells," he muttered, war hammer in hand. "This isn’t typical."

Nightglider zipped past them, checking the area for more trouble. "I got the skies, you deal with the tar," she chirped, swooping around like a hyperactive hawk.

Starrise’s horn flared again as she cast a detection spell. "Something familiar, a sleep spell... but there’s another I can’t quite place." She furrowed her brow. "It’s weird."

Shadowstrike flipped through his tome. "It’s a command spell," he said with a grimace, eyeing the tar dripping from the pegasus. "And it’s nasty. It’s got some weird autonomy."

"Yeah," Starrise replied, her voice tight. "How does D.M.U. even know about command spells? They're classified."

"Probably a disgruntled guard," Shadowstrike shrugged, "or a very motivated bookworm."

Before Starrise could respond, the tar began consuming the pegasus at an alarming rate. Starrise tossed a flame into the mess, but the fire turned black, disintegrating the creature but leaving behind an eerie cloud of smoke.

"Done. Let’s move," Frostbite said, already heading into town with a sense of urgency.

As they entered the town square, they found dozens of ponies lying unconscious, surrounded by faint flickers of black lightning. "Looks like we’re not done yet," Starrise muttered.

The town square, eerily silent, was surrounded by homes that formed a neat circle. The group moved cautiously, but Frostbite, ever the brute, stomped forward to check on the civilians. Shadowstrike’s eyes flickered nervously. "This feels wrong."

Then, out of nowhere, ropes started moving above them, twisting like serpents. One dropped straight towards Frostbite. He swatted it away, thinking it was just some random mess. But when the ropes split and dropped towards Starrise and Shadowstrike, things got real.

Shadowstrike snapped his book shut, eyes glowing. With a quick chant, he summoned glowing blue swords from the moonlight. They sliced through the ropes with a resounding thunk.

A shadowy creature, now severed in half, writhed on the ground, hissing and crackling like something out of a bad horror movie. Before anyone could react, the creaking of the buildings grew louder. More ropes descended, moving to trap them in a deadly dance.

"Perfect," Starrise said dryly, shifting into a battle stance. "Rope traps and spooky creatures. Just what we needed."

The group braced themselves, knowing they were far from finished.

The night air smelled like fresh wood, and the sounds of water flowing gently in the distance tried to lure me into a false sense of calm. But my mind was set on one thing: getting the hell out of dodge without making a scene.

"Stay here, buddy," I muttered to my small, loyal companion who would probably try to pick a fight with whatever creepy things were out there. "I’m going to the bathroom. Keep watch." Yeah, sure. A bathroom break in a creepy ghost town. I was just trying to make it sound like I had my shit together.

Turning the corner, I headed straight for the town’s exit, conveniently located near the ominous sawmill that looked like something straight out of a horror flick. But hey, if it freaked me out, maybe it would do the same to any lurking threats. Screw it, right? I might be a little desperate, but I wasn’t about to stick around like a sitting duck.

With a deep breath, I summoned my shadowy wings and soared to the ceiling of the sawmill, claws digging in for support. I waited in the darkness, hoping to God I wouldn’t be spotted by whatever was lurking out there. This place was practically a ghost town now, and with all the trees cleared, there was nowhere to hide if a pegasus decided to take a look.

Then, a soft thud. Hoofsteps. Oh great. A dark figure appeared in the window on the second floor, shifting into the shadows. It had bat wings. Bat wings. Was this some kind of changeling hybrid? I was debating if I should just strangle it with my tail when I remembered that there might be more of them, and that probably wasn’t the best plan.

I huddled in the shadows, squinting my eyes to make sure I wasn’t about to be discovered. The bat-winged pony kept scanning the room like it was looking for something—or, more likely, me. It hovered near the window, its yellow eyes piercing the darkness. My tail twitched in anticipation, but I held back. Better not risk it.

Without warning, the pony shot up into the air and flew out of the window, making me lose my grip and crash to the floor with a loud thud. "Ow... son of a—"

I shook my head, trying to clear the stars from my vision, and decided now was probably the best time to book it. I followed the bat pony's lead and flew out the window, hiding behind the clouds like a true pro. Escape: 1, Creepy Bat Pony: 0.

Nightglider glided above Timberlake’s dark streets, tailing a devilish creature that moved with the speed of a Minotaur and the grace of a griffin—basically a nightmare with a dash of athleticism. It darted through the streets, jumping over obstacles and making sharp turns like it had somewhere important to be. But then it slowed, staring at the sawmill like it had just found its favorite hangout spot. Without hesitation, it bolted inside.

Nightglider didn’t hesitate either. She landed silently on the mill’s roof, creeping toward the window. Peering inside, she saw nothing but darkness, illuminated only by the eerie glow of an open door. Slipping in through the window, she scanned the room, expecting some ominous magic or a chilling breeze, but... nada. Odd.

Just as she started to glide above the first floor, her team’s signal flashed through her mind—a call to regroup. Something big was happening. She had no time to waste.

She darted back through the window and found herself narrowly dodging a dark tentacle. "Really? This again?" she muttered, weaving and dodging more attacks, until one clipped her wing, sending her crashing to the ground. Despite the painful landing, she regained her footing and barked orders to her team.

“We need to bounce. Shadowstrike, grab Starrise. I’ll get Frostbite.”

Before Shadowstrike could answer, Frostbite cut in. "No, we’re not running yet. Civilians need us."

The shadows seemed to agree, getting more aggressive by the second. Nightglider rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll evac the civilians. You guys keep these creatures busy. Make sure no one dies on my watch.”

Shadowstrike raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I help with the civilians? I can fly.”

“No,” Nightglider said, shaking her head. “You’re way more useful here. Besides, if any of us go down, you’ll need to hold the line. Stay strong.”

She turned to Starrise, who looked ready to burn the entire town down with her solar flame. “Star, you good for a little light show to cover my escape?”

Starrise’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I’m out of energy?” She flared her horn, shouting, “Let the light of Celestia burn the wicked!”

Flames shot out, lighting up the town like it was the middle of the day. The shadows hissed and recoiled like they'd been thrown into a hot oven.

Nightglider wasted no time. “Thanks, Star!” she yelled, zooming toward the civilian shelter.

Meanwhile, Shadowstrike was turning the dark horde into Swiss cheese, ethereal swords flying from the air, slicing through shadows like butter. Starrise kept the heat on, turning shadows into crispy critters with fiery blasts. Frostbite, the icy badass, was darting in and out, freezing the enemy’s weak points with precision strikes.

The shadows, wounded and bruised, slowly retreated, their pride hurt by the team’s relentless assault. For now, they were on the back foot.

I was on a cloud, minding my own business, when a blinding flash of light turned me into a falling comet. My control went out the window, and I crash-landed like a pissed-off meteor, creating a crater and a lot of bad decisions. The pain hit me like a freight train, but somehow, I didn’t break anything. "Son of a—" I groaned, shifting from pain to pure irritation.

Then, I heard it: scratching and hissing. Great. It was him again, stirring up trouble like usual. As much as I’d love to leave him to face whatever disaster he’d created, I couldn't. With a grunt, I shook off the pain, spread my wings, and shot toward the town, my shadowy form blurring with all the grace of a pissed-off phoenix. Time to save his sorry ass.

Author's Note

Hi TrashManic here. Some of you might be wondering, "Hey! Why was this chapter so long?" The answer to that is, I forgot to write the part where they actually go to the town, the part after Evergore and Goldiethine's conversation, until I had already finished this chapter. I didn't want to split it up, so I just kept it as one big chapter. I hope it didn't feel like it was dragging on for too long or feel too jarring considering this is double what I usually write for a chapter. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! More is on the way!

Edit:
I finally found out how to add images! Now I can add my drawings too. :pinkiehappy:

Chapter 4: A wins A win... I guess? - (Timberlake)

I lay on a straw roof, watching my shadow buddy get pummeled by a small group of pony guards, their steel hooves crushing through the chaos of Timberlake. The town was burning, shadows rampaging, and only a handful of guards were left to hold the line. I couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted by their half-assed attempt. I mean, really? This is the best they’ve got?

Whatever, time to help out my pal before he’s cornered.

I leaped off the roof, wings spreading to silence my landing. A quick flick of my finger conjured a glowing white ball of magic aimed at the biggest pony in heavy armor. But before I could unleash it, a sword made of blue magic skewered the ball, causing an explosion that knocked the breath out of me.

When the smoke cleared, a blue unicorn with glasses stared me down like he’d just found the last piece of a puzzle. I raised my hand to retaliate, but, surprise—my hand was gone. More like blown to pieces, held together by some messy flesh. The shadows wrapped around my arm, fixing it up like I was putting together a jigsaw puzzle made of bones.

“Well, that’s new,” I muttered, eyeing the unicorn. His dozen swords were all aimed at me, the picture of confidence.

“And what are you supposed to be?” he demanded.

“Just a guy, you know, enjoying the sights. What about you? Guard? Adventurer?” I shot back, raising my arms slowly.

“I’m the one asking questions, monster. Did you start all this?”

“Well, yeah,” I shrugged. “But you won’t get to see the end of it. Let’s wrap this up, shall we?”

I flicked my horns and sent the unicorn flying through a window with a snap. Before I could even enjoy the moment, a purple Bat pony sucker-punched me in the face, sending me crashing into a stone fountain and through a door a few dozen meters away.

Groaning, I unhinged my jaw back into place. Damn, they hit hard.

“Whoa, that’s one point for the good guys!” Nightglider cheered.

“Is Shadowstrike okay?” Starrise asked.

“Yeah, he’s wai—oh, uh...” Nightglider trailed off before dashing toward Shadowstrike.

I got up, brushing off the dust. Those ponies were tougher than they looked. I saw the Bat pony dive into the building I’d tossed the unicorn into. With a snap of my fingers, I collapsed the house, shifting my attention to the last two guards.

“Okay, I’m giving you one chance to surrender—”

A ball of fire interrupted my threat. I snatched it out of the air like a baseball. Big mistake. The flames engulfed my arm, spreading across my body. I screamed, dropping to the ground and rolling around.

“OH WHAT THE HELL!”

“Humph, that’ll teach you not to mess with Equestria guards, Demon,” Starrise said, preparing another fireball.

“St—” An old voice interrupted before a metal hammer slammed into Starrise’s head, freezing her solid. She crumpled to the ground with a thud.

The fire finally went out, and I caught my breath, looking around.

“What the hell just happened?” I groaned, glancing at the armored pony, now leaking tar from his visor like some sort of undead. Behind him, my buddy was regrouping with the remaining shadows.

“Hey! What happened with this one?” I yelled to him, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he morphed into a shadow snake and slithered toward me.

“Right, whatever. Let’s get out of here before more of these assholes show up,” I sighed.

We dashed toward the north side of the village, vanishing into the forest under the cover of night, ready to leave this mess behind.

In a dim warehouse on the outskirts of Canterlot, four ponies in golden armor and red cloaks stood around a wooden crate, their nerves almost as heavy as their armor. They waited, twitching in the eerie silence, for their new leader—who, as far as they knew, might just be the one to lead them to glorious battle... or, you know, some awkward motivational speech.

The crate in the center of the group held something mysterious. A weapon, they assumed, though it could’ve been a really elaborate sandwich for all they knew.

In the dim warehouse on the outskirts of Canterlot, four armored ponies stood, awkwardly shifting from hoof to hoof. The air was thick with tension.

One younger guard, sweat beading on his forehead, nervously blurted, “Is it true that Goldiethine is leading us? Like the Goldiethine?” His voice cracked, and his eyes darted around, searching for any sign of reassurance.

An older guard, who looked like he’d seen some things (and probably regretted them), took a shaky breath. “Yeah, kid... we’re under his command now.”

The other two guards nodded silently, their expressions stoic—probably because they’d learned years ago that thinking about their choices only led to regret.

The younger soldier frowned, processing the news. “So, a trophy hunter is leading us on a D.M.U. hunt? And we’re babysitting one of the Lord’s experiments? This is my promotion?”

“Kid, you do your job well, you get the good assignments. Like hunting down mutants. It's how it works. But here’s the thing: Goldiethine might be a little... eccentric, but he's still one of the boss's boys. Do your job like a mindless golem, and everything will be fine,” the older soldier advised, offering a reassuring nod—or was that a nervous tic?

The young guard wiped his brow and straightened up, though he still looked like he might pass out from the stress.

Then, he walked in. Goldiethine. His smile was the kind you get when you’ve had too much Botox, and his eyes screamed I’ll kill you last. He trotted up to the group, his hooves clicking against the floor like he was trying to sound more important than he actually was.

“Alright, team, listen up,” he said, his grin still stretched uncomfortably wide. “First things first. No one touches the weapon until I’ve had my fun with the D.M.U., okay? Anyone who even thinks about activating it early, I’ll personally tear off your balls and send them to your families.”

The guards blinked.

“Second, if anyone who isn’t a D.M.U. steps in, you stop them. No questions, no hesitations. Oh, and I’ll be teleporting us to Timberlake. Try to keep up.”

Before anyone could respond, a blinding flash of light engulfed them.

Moments later, they were in Timberlake. The town was a mess—fires raged, buildings smoldered, and the faint scent of charred everything filled the air. Goldiethine inhaled deeply, a grin tugging at his face as he savored the smell. “Ah, the scent of battle... and failure. Reminds me of home.” He started walking, clearly pleased with the chaos around him.

Ponies scattered, some relieved to see them, others wisely fleeing.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the destruction, a mare with light pink fur and a dark pink mane was screaming at her husband, who looked like he’d been through way too many life-or-death situations already. "How could you say such a thing about our son!?" the mare screamed, her face turning a shade of crimson that could rival the sun as she covered her son’s ears as if it’d somehow stop the carnage.

"Are you saying you don't love us, Dad?" the colt piped up, his mother’s hooves muffling his rage. His big, wet eyes were impossible to ignore, giving the father an existential crisis.

"I do love you… just not as much as I love myself, y’know?" the dad said with an exaggerated smirk, giving a nod like he was delivering a TED talk.

"WHAT!?" the mother gasped, momentarily thrown off balance by his sheer audacity.

"What the hell did you just say, Daddy!?" the colt yelled, leaping up and grabbing his father by the collar, yanking him down like a ragdoll. His dad’s face shifted from fear to deep thought.

"Used to call your mother 'Daddy'," the father muttered dreamily, staring off into the distance as if recounting fond memories.

Before the absurdity could escalate further, a pony in a disheveled uniform approached, clearly stressed.

"Uh, hi! You here for the dark mage or the guards?" she asked, voice tight.

Goldiethine glanced between the scene and the mare, clearly uninterested. "We’re here to deal with the dark mage. Is he still around?"

The mare blinked, then shook her head. "Well, kinda. He's in jail, but his demon’s still on the loose."

Goldiethine's eyebrow twitched. "A demon, huh?"

"Yeah. If you want more details, talk to the guards. They’re down the street, near the square," the mare added, already turning to flee. "I’ve got paperwork, so... have fun."

Goldiethine gave a lazy grin, watching her retreat. "Before you run off, shouldn’t we exchange names?" he asked smoothly.

She froze, realizing her manners had completely abandoned her. "Oh! Right. I’m Mayor Mist," she stammered, offering a hoof.

Goldiethine shook it dramatically. "Goldiethine, but you can call me ‘Sir’," he said with an exaggerated bow.

At the mention of his name, Mayor Mist’s eyes went wide and her body froze like she’d seen a ghost. "You're Goldiethine? The Butcher?" she squeaked, visibly trembling.

Goldiethine smirked, his smile too wide for comfort. "Oh, just a nickname... though it’s not inaccurate," he chuckled darkly, sending her into full flight mode.

As she hurried off, Goldiethine sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "Ah, the ladies love me," he mused, giving the fleeing mare a wistful gaze.

The guards exchanged nervous glances but wisely stayed silent.

As they ventured deeper into the town, Goldiethine noticed the fire’s light flickering under strange, creeping shadows. His attention was pulled to a bandaged stallion nearby, surrounded by a group of night guards—one of them a Batpony. Goldiethine recoiled slightly. "Ugh, don't even get me started on those freaks," he muttered, shaking off the memories of Crystal Wars.

Clearing his throat, he approached the guards, hoping to get some answers. "Ahem. We’re here to deal with the demon. Where is it?"

The largest guard barely looked up. "You’re soldiers, right? We dealt with the mage, but the demon's still out there. Head north, mountains, that way," he grunted, clearly more concerned with his concussion than talking.

Goldiethine raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he asked, eyeing the half-conscious stallion, whose glazed eyes betrayed a serious brain injury. "Well, I'll take your word for it."

The guard gave him a half-hearted wave of his hoof. "Yeah... sure, whatever. Just get us some aspirin or something."

Goldiethine didn’t linger, his mind already on the next hunt. "North it is," he muttered, turning toward the mountains with a new sense of purpose.

And so, with dramatic flair, he set off, leaving a trail of awkward confusion behind him.

The moonlight was swallowed by the trees as Robert trudged through the woods, his shadowy companion slithering behind. They weren't alone—up ahead, a raccoon failed to notice their approach. When it spotted Robert's demonic form, the little creature froze, its fur standing on end. The raccoon fainted and tumbled off its branch. Robert paid it no mind as he walked by, his shadow following, momentarily turning the animal into a shadowy mockery with glowing white eyes.

"Yeah, that was totally unnecessary," Robert muttered, trying to ignore the mess his buddy had just made.

They were tailing magical copies of the diamond dogs, moving toward a destination unknown. Robert had an inkling: caves or mineshafts. Places he had zero interest in. But his buddy was persistent with the illusion spell, so Robert shrugged and followed along anyway.

"So, what's the game plan, little buddy?" Robert asked, grinning mischievously. "Guns blazing, or sneak in like a teenager on a shopping spree with their parents' credit card?"

The shadow wriggled, its glowing eyes shifting between rage and something else—it was hard to tell. "Ah, so we’re going with guns blazing, huh?" Robert said, nodding. "Two votes for kicking ass, then. But why should I care? I just mauled some ponies earlier—"

Before he could finish, a massive wolf lunged from the bushes, aiming to bite his head off. To the wolf's credit, it managed to latch on, but its teeth barely scratched the surface of Robert’s skin. He stood there, unbothered, as the wolf thrashed and slobbered on him.

After a few moments, Robert’s horns began glowing with white magic. He casually raised the wolf into the air, but the animal refused to let go. With a sigh, Robert flicked the wolf’s nose, sending an electric jolt through it. The wolf yelped, releasing its grip, and flew into the night sky, crashing into a tree with a screech.

Robert turned to his shadowy companion, whose wide-eyed stare was unmistakable. He made a "zip" motion across his lips, glaring. "This never happened," he growled before striding forward.

His focus snapped to the dimming glow of the diamond dog copies in the distance, and with a smirk, he bolted after them. "Time to catch up and mess things up."

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here! I finally got the Timberlake fight done. Yay! As always, I'd appreciate any feedback on how I can improve the story or writing. Feel free to let me know what you liked as well. This is Trashmanic, and thanks for reading!

Chapter 5: Into the wolfs Den - (Northern Mountain)

After half an hour of tracking the Diamond Dogs' illusions, I reached a clearing. Looking out at the wide fields with tall grass, scattered holes, and glimmering gemstones, I spotted a cave entrance in the side of a tall mountain. Two tough-looking Diamond Dogs in worn-out leather armor guarded it, keeping watch over the area. Engaging them directly could alert the rest of the pack inside the cave, so I needed to come up with a plan to sneak in unnoticed.

My shadowy companion checked the area for threats while I considered distracting the guards. Picking up a rock, I got an idea. If I could make them curious and draw their attention away, it might create an opening for me.

I focused my thoughts and channeled my magic through my horns, causing a faint white glow. With a touch, I made the rock levitate above the trees, hiding its origin from the guards below. Pleased with the diversion, I cautiously approached, blending into the shadows to stay hidden.

As I approached, the sound of the rock hitting the ground caught their attention, perplexing them. One guard scratched his head and uttered, "What's that noise, eh? Did ya see something?"

His companion nodded, eyes narrowing, and replied, "Yeah, seemed to come from over yonder. Should we check it out, hmmm?"

The first guard pondered for a moment before proposing, "How 'bout a little game, eh? Loser goes to investigate."

The second guard shrugged, "Sure thing, mate. Can't be too important anyway, right?"

The guards squared off, their fingers twitching in anticipation as they counted to three at a slow pace before revealing their choices. The first guard chose scissors, while the second guard went with rock. With a cocky grin, the second guard claimed victory. The first guard, wearing a sour expression, muttered under his breath, "Fine, I'll go. But if it's nothing, you owe me."

Seeing one of the guards walk off to check on it, I swiftly teleported behind the remaining guard, muffling any potential outcry. He tried to break free from my grip, elbowing my stomach with surprising strength, but it seemed ineffective against me as I kept my firm hold over his mouth. My shadowy form slithered into his eyes, mouth, and any available openings before I effortlessly melded into his shadow, freezing him in place with a blank expression and twitching ears.

"It must've been an animal 'cause I can't find anything! So, you owe me, mutt!" the second guard said, walking back in a huff.

Unaware of my presence, the second guard returned to his original spot and resumed his watch. I listened intently, waiting for the right moment. Quietly, I moved towards his shadow, making it seem like the first guard's shadow was moving on its own, creeping up his leg. Suddenly, the guard felt a cold sensation surrounding him. Confusion filled his mind as my shadows began affecting him. He grumbled, "Yeesh, it's getting colder by the minute! Need to talk to those underlings about warmer gear. Can't even feel the ground under our paws. Outsiders taking supplies that should be for the true pack, not these strays. If I had my way, they'd all be..."

Before he could finish his rant, chilling shadows erupted from the back of his head, snaking into his mouth and causing him to choke in surprise. Panicked, he reached out towards his companion, but his eyes now glowed with an eerie white light surrounded by swirling shadows resembling an intensified diamond-like gaze. Maintaining my grip, I ensured he couldn't raise an alarm or alert anyone within the depths of the cave.

As my manipulation of his shadow took full effect, the guard's body abruptly went limp. I melded deeper into his silhouette, becoming one with the darkness enveloping him.

With the remaining guard seemingly settled, I slipped out of his shadow, mentally commanding the illusion of normalcy. Like a wraith in the night, I crept further into the depths of the cave, my movements aligning with the unnatural grace of a diamond-steeped predator. As I traversed the gloom, the torches inexplicably faltered and extinguished, as if an invisible gust had whisked them away.

Moving past more guards, shadows quickly leaped off of me, shrouding the guards and giving them an almost zombie-like appearance. They stood still, slightly hunched over, with glowing white eyes and shadows leaking from their faces. I commanded them to keep watch in case anything tried to escape. I couldn't have a repeat of the Timberlake incident.

The cavern grew darker as I ventured deeper, the air thick with the scent of earth. My steps were silent, and the shadows clung to me like loyal companions. The Diamond Dogs scattered throughout the cave, some standing guard while others shuffled about their daily tasks.

Using my powers to manipulate the shadows, I disguised myself, taking on the appearance of a Diamond Dog named Crusher. In their minds, I was just another member of their pack, their thoughts and memories accessible to me. Delving into their recollections, I searched for any trace of Bill and Puck's visit to Timberlake.

As I focused, the world seemed to warp, the surroundings fading into a bluish-black mist. I could hear multiple voices whisper and laugh, growing louder as blue outlines of Diamond Dogs began to form amidst the mist. Among them, I identified four figures, two of which were the generic guards I had encountered before.

But the other two stood out with their unique fashion choices. The taller one donned a red vest and appeared to be some type of bulldog with light brownish fur. The other wore an old, worn steel helmet and a steel chest plate with a fur collar, the small dog resembled a poodle with pink fur. They exuded an aura of confidence, unlike the other Diamond Dogs around them.

I could hear the two begin to talk, their words clear and understandable as they drew closer. As they approached, I also noticed the two guard dogs discreetly trying to eavesdrop on the conversation, their ears subtly adjusting to catch every word.

"Got it, partner! When we walk our tails into the chief's throne room, we spill the kibble about that sneaky dark mage, but mum's the word on tipping off them guards. We'll just wag our tongues about warning him, no need to fetch trouble!" Puck said, wagging his finger at Bill, who continued to stare blankly ahead, nodding at Puck's words.

"Yup. What 'bout that dead pegasus? Gotta reckon what to do 'bout 'em 'fore we prance into chief's throne room." Bill inquired.

Puck grimaced for a second, avoiding eye contact and looking around nervously as he whispered, "Eh, we... best keep quiet 'bout it. Mage clearly did it, ain't no worry 'bout it circling back to nip us anytime soon."

"Timberlake gonna be chock-full of D.M.P agents, maybe even some from them five Noble houses," Bill remarked.

"Yeah, fer sure, that whole area's a paws-off zone for a spell. Fingers crossed the boss don't leash us back to mine duty," Puck replied with a sigh of annoyance. Bill grimaced and nodded. "Yeah."

The two of them walked past the guards and took a left turn, disappearing from sight, causing my vision to fade back into the bluish-black void. Questions began to form in my head. A pegasus was found dead, but who killed it? I was reading books at the time, and my shadow friend—well, I'm pretty sure he can't kill something without me at least knowing about it. I am the one in control of it.

Ah, it doesn't matter anymore. I can't go back to that town now that they're on edge. It's too risky. Hmm, now where would those two be hiding? If those dogs' memories are worth anything, it would be the throne room. Since they were going to tell the chief about the mage. I think it's time to pay them a little visit. After all, no good deed goes unpunished.

In a dimly lit cave, Gorkjaw, the colossal Diamond Dog Warlord, sat perched upon a rugged throne carved from solid rock. The cavern was a chaotic sight, filled with rail tracks snaking into the darkness and carts loaded with valuable gems being hauled into the throne room.

Gorkjaw's tawny gray fur and massive muscles commanded attention in the dimly lit space. Scars adorned his body, evidence of the countless battles he had won. His fiery eyes inspired both fear and respect in those who met his gaze.

Facing him were Puck, a small Diamond Dog with fluffy pink fur, visibly trembling in the presence of Gorkjaw, and Bill, a strong Diamond Dog who resembled a pitbull, emanating a fierce and stoic demeanor.

Leaning forward on his rocky throne, Gorkjaw spoke with authority. "Listen up, you two! We've got ourselves a proper rough situation brewing down in them treacherous southern caves. Them witless slaves of ours done gone and dug right into Crystallus domain! It's a disaster waiting to happen!"

Bill clenched his jaw, his muscles tense with readiness. "Boss, we can't venture into Crystallus territory for just a few slaves? That seems mighty risky, if you ask me."

Gorkjaw growled as he glared down at Bill. "Without them slaves, we've got no precious gems! Without them gems, our defenses crumble! And without slaves or a strong guard, what good are ya? Especially after your promotion? I reckon you don't fancy a return to the mines, now do you?"

Puck's eyes widened with fear as he quickly saluted. "N-No, Warlord Gorkjaw! We'll march in there, retrieve our slaves, and restore stability to them dangerous tunnels!"

As Puck turned to leave, Gorkjaw's formidable voice echoed through the cavern. "Never forget, we're conquering and killing all who dare stand in our path! We're taking the weak as slaves, while we ascend to the Great Dog! Though the Dark Empire may have driven our kind out of Saddle Arabia, we'll rebuild the Great Dog Pack better than ever. Those Crystal-kissing freaks and cowered Saddle Arabia ponies haven't done anything but delay our war path."

Puck and Bill nodded, their fear of angering their master evident. They swiftly moved away, intent on carrying out their assigned tasks.

Gorkjaw's stern gaze followed his mutts, his crimson eyes ablaze with satisfaction.

As Puck and Bill vanished from sight, Gorkjaw's eyes fixated on an old pickaxe resting near his throne. The worn tool, covered in rust and adorned with ancient symbols, held a significant place in his heart. It was more than just a mere instrument.

It reminded him of the days when he used to work in the mines, retrieving gems and metals for the great pack. As we waged war in our homeland of Saddle Arabia, entire armies would be engulfed by the earth due to the interference of us, the Great Pack. Equestria feared the mighty pack. Gorkjaw felt a small smile creep onto his face as memories flooded back, recalling the tales his pack would tell of the battles, especially those of his brother who engaged in raids and ambushes. The sand in their homeland was like water to them; they could swim through it with ease.

Lost in a surge of emotions, Gorkjaw's grip tightened around the pickaxe, and memories flooded his mind. The shadows within the cave took on a life of their own, dancing and swirling, forming blurred visions of his siblings. Silhouettes of his brothers appeared before him, playfully frolicking together, their laughter resonating through his consciousness.

He saw himself as a young pup, chasing his siblings through the darkened tunnels, their tails wagging in excitement. The echoes of their voices filled his ears, and the whispers of their shared dreams gently caressed his soul. In these fleeting moments, the weight of his responsibilities as Warlord lifted, replaced by the carefree spirit he once knew.

But, as with all good things, it did not last. Soon, the Dark Empire sent their top General, the Great Dragon—Subicor, the greatest conqueror in history and one of the last remaining elder dragons. The mere mention of the name brought unbridled rage to Gorkjaw's mind as he recalled the battle, if it could even be called that.

Subicor arrived with a platoon of airships, each brimming with war golems. They possessed a device that allowed them to somehow detect the dogs underground and bombard them relentlessly. The tunnels collapsed, and at the great pack's weakest moment, Saddle Arabia, urged on by their ally Equestria, fought off the Great Pack. Simultaneously, Equestria pressed back against the Dark Empire.

The conflict reached its climax when Celestia struck a mighty blow against Subicor, severing one of his great horns. Amidst the chaos of battle, the Great Pack was divided and nearly wiped out. With both the Dark Empire and the Equestrians attacking, they were forced to retreat and splinter. Their great leader, the Great Dog, was slain in battle, leaving the pack leaderless and in disarray.

Amidst the haze of his reminiscence and anger, a glimmer caught his attention. His gaze drifted downward, drawn to the crystal-laden surface of his pickaxe. As his eyes met the reflection, a cold shiver ran down his spine. What he saw was not his own reflection but a distorted image of dark shadows descending from the ceiling, enveloping his upper body like suffocating tar.

Gorkjaw sprang to his feet, his previous sentimentality crushed beneath newfound rage. The pickaxe slipped from his grasp as he focused on the malevolent presence lurking within the dark magic that had ensnared him. A ferocious roar erupted from his chest, shaking the cavern walls, as some of the gems nearby shattered into dust, sending the tar that covered him flying off in all directions.

The thunderous sound echoed through the chamber, alerting the rest of Gorkjaw's pack to his distress. Their ears perked up, attuned to his call, as they quickly gathered around their enraged leader. Gorkjaw, now in a battle stance, stared into the shadows, ready to face the source of this dark magic.

In a voice booming with authority, Gorkjaw addressed the unseen foe, his words laced with anger and certainty.

"Dark mage! Your pitiful tricks won't escape the keen eyes of my loyal pack! They have told me about your foul deeds, your attack on Timberlake. But I didn't reckon you to be so crafty, underestimating the might of me Diamond Dogs!" Gorkjaw's voice echoed through the throne room, filled with fierce determination.

Robert's slender figure writhed and twisted in the shadows, his movements erratic and unsettling. "Your mutts, feeble and wavering, much like your own faltering resolve. But fret not, for even the most wayward soul can be redeemed under the proper guidance," he stammered, his voice trembling.

Gorkjaw bared his teeth in a wicked grin. "And you reckon yourself worthy of such power?"

"It's not about worthiness. It's about having the power to take and control," Robert replied, his voice gaining a predatory edge.

As Robert emerged from the shadows, his limbs twisted and extended unnaturally, his jaw unhinging with a snap and a hiss. Gorkjaw signaled for his pack to halt as he faced the mage alone.

"Leave this bloody abomination to me. Watch as I gut it like a pig," Gorkjaw proclaimed with a growl.

Robert retorted with a twisted smile, and white light radiated from his maw, resembling the fiery glow of a forge.

In a flash, Gorkjaw lunged at the mage, delivering a powerful blow that snapped Robert's neck with a sickening crack. But Robert twisted laughter filled the air as smaller arms emerged from the shadows, holding his broken neck in place.

"I love getting into fights. I always end up learning something new about myself," Robert chuckled gleefully, his voice filled with twisted glee. He continued to fiddle with his damaged neck, causing the bone and flesh to cry out in pain, even as they remained concealed within the shadows.

"Da only thin' you's gonna understand is da mess I make when I gut ya and spill your innards on da ground," Gorkjaw sneered.

"You know," Robert chuckled, a gurgled cough escaping his throat as his neck snapped back into place, "you're the first to say you wanted to kill me, but not the first to try." The guards winced at the sight of Robert's mangled body. Seizing the opportunity, Robert spat out a glob of magic that soared through the air and landed amidst a group of guards.

The fortunate ones were instantly killed, leaving behind only skeletons drenched in white plasma. The unfortunate few at the edge of the blast suffered devastating injuries, with melted flesh and bone covering their body parts. Chaos erupted as multiple arms sprouted from Robert's twisted form, ready to unleash a new wave of carnage.

But before he could indulge in his newfound desire for violence, a blow struck his abdomen, sending him hurtling into a tunnel.

The shadows enveloping Robert began to dissolve and crack, slowly transforming him back into his original shadow form. He used one arm to push himself upright while covering his mouth with the other, succumbing to a fit of coughing. Once the fit subsided, he noticed something warm and wet on his arm. Looking down, he saw a dark red liquid coating his forearm, and terror gripped his heart as a chill ran down his spine.

"COWARD!" a voice boomed, snapping Robert's attention to an enraged figure. Gorkjaw, his pickaxe pointed menacingly at Robert, took steps forward with pure hatred radiating from his crimson eyes. "I gave ya da opportunity to meet death honorably, and ya slaughtered me mutts?! Now, ya gonna pay, vermin!"

Refusing to witness the gruesome fate Gorkjaw had in store for him, Robert hastily gathered all his remaining magical energy, charging up a blast. Gorkjaw only quickened his pace, using his pickaxe as a shield, its blue crystal glowing brighter as he closed in. Just before Robert released the blast, he aimed it towards the tunnel entrance, causing it to collapse and obstruct Gorkjaw's advance. This precious moment of respite allowed Robert to catch his breath.

Collapsing onto the ground, Robert clutched his head, shock and disbelief etched across his face. "Why the hell did I do that? I should have just ran when I failed to break his mind. Stupid, stupid," he berated himself, slamming his fist onto the ground, creating small cracks and a thunderous thud.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rocks and dirt being displaced, jolting him back to reality. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he remembered who he was up against – the Diamond Dogs. With renewed determination, Robert sprung to his feet and sprinted towards the western side of the cave, aiming to escape their clutches.

In the throne room, Gorkjaw settled back into his seat, watching intently as his loyal dogs tirelessly excavated through the cave-in. His mind raced, contemplating his next move. Guards needed to be dispatched to ensure the safety of the slaves. However, with the mage's escape route in mind, Gorkjaw couldn't shake the anticipation of the dark mage's impending demise. Perhaps he would find himself in Crystallus domain sooner than expected.

The dogs left behind to tend to the wounded continued their tasks with an eerie robotic demeanor. Their eyes momentarily glazed over, turning pure white before returning to normal, as if nothing extraordinary had transpired.

Deep within the woods outside of Timberlake, Goldiethine and his guards set up camp, placing their weapons at a safe distance from the fire but within easy reach. Goldiethine and two of his guards, the youngest and the oldest, sat down to eat, while the other two guards stood watch in silence, never uttering a word.

They prepared some simple sandwiches and ate quietly, with only the chirping of crickets and the crackling of the fire breaking the silence. The youngest guard squirmed uncomfortably as the silence lingered, feeling the urge to say something to dispel the tension. Looking around at his companions, an idea struck him.

"Well, um, it seems I forgot to ask for your names. Mine's Stray Sentinel," he ventured, extending his hoof towards the older guard.

The older guard appeared momentarily surprised but quickly reciprocated the gesture with a smile. "Heh, you're right. Must've slipped my mind in my old age. Name's Brave Heart."

Their attention then turned to Goldiethine, who shrugged nonchalantly.

"Ah, well, you both already know my name, but I'll say it again my name is Goldiethine. And what about you, Disposable Guard 1 and 2?" he quipped, raising an eyebrow at the two silent guards.

For a moment, the two guards remained motionless, but eventually, they spoke in unison.

"John," stated the guard on the left.

"Bob," added the guard on the right.

Stray Sentinel and Brave Heart exchanged glances, sharing a shrug of bemusement. Goldiethine observed them with an impassive gaze as he continued to munch on his sandwich.

Stray Sentinel cleared his throat, redirecting Goldiethine's attention away from the fellow guards, hoping to lighten the mood among the workers.

"Lord Evergore must have a keen interest in this dark mage if he sent you along with us, huh?" Stray Sentinel remarked with a smirk as he took a bite of his sandwich.

Goldiethine nodded thoughtfully, swallowing his food before responding.

"Ah, indeed. Since de conclusion of de war with de Dark Empire, Lord Evergore has been preoccupied with handling de influx of migrants from de Crystal Empire loyalists, many of whom have become warlords and cultists spreading their influence across other kingdoms. He's even lent support to Princess Luna and Princess Cadance in their combined Crusade against de remaining demons within de empire. But dis assignment seems more of a personal pursuit for him than a mere duty,"

Brave Heart raised an eyebrow at the mention of demons, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"How does he assist the princess against demons? I've only heard of demons being defeated when the princesses themselves get involved," Brave Heart questioned.

Goldiethine shrugged, pondering the question.

"I'm not entirely sure, mi amigo. It seems to involve an artifact based on Star Swirl's Elements of Harmony, or at least a version of it. Star Swirl was a genius even Evergore struggles to comprehend. But as far as I understand, it harnesses the combined magic of multiple ponies to unleash a potent blast of arcane energy. I've witnessed it reduce castle towers to rubble. However, its primary function seems to weaken the demons, allowing the princess to deliver the final blow before they can wreak havoc," Goldiethine explained with a hint of pride.

Stray Sentinel, puzzled, voiced his query aloud as he continued eating.

"You really hold the boss in high regard. I've heard rumors that you two are war buddies, but if you don't mind my asking, what's the reason behind your deep respect for him?"

Goldiethine's eyes widened, akin to a stamp collector being asked their favorite stamp. He sat up straighter, focusing more intently on his audience.

"Of course, I respect him; he's de sole reason I still walk amongst de living," Goldiethine affirmed with a nod.

As he rubbed his chin with a hoof, Goldiethine grew pensive. "I first encountered Evergore during de Dark Empire expansion led by de dragon Subicor. I was part of a team tasked with eliminating high-priority targets within Subicor's Legion, and we were efficient. Countless slaves of sombras perished in dat campaign, and de knowledge I gained..." Goldiethine trailed off, a small smile playing on his lips as he gazed into the fire.

"Dey stored demonic magic in their crystal cores, de very ones dat powered de golems. Merely touching dem would render a pony nearly helpless. I remember mi fear, mi sorrow for those who fell victim to it, even though dey were our adversaries. How naive I was,"

Goldiethine shook his head, tossing a piece of wood onto the fire with his magic. His smile faded as he dwelled deeper on the remorse he once harbored for the enemy.

"It was during one of our routine missions when it happened. We scaled de walls, dispatched de guards, and planted de fire crystals around de crystal cores. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I hesitated while mi team awaited mi signal. Then, it occurred," Goldiethine recounted, his gaze distant as he held his hay sandwich in his magical grasp.

Stray Sentinel and Brave Heart, still eating their meal slowly, exchanged glances with slight concern, while Bob and John in the back remained motionless, each trying to distance themselves from the other's thoughts in case things took a turn for the worse. Goldiethine glanced up towards Stray Sentinel and Brave Heart, causing them to drop their food, wide-eyed with fear. He smiled briefly before adopting a serious expression.

"A crystal mimic, uno of Sombra's favored creations. A crystal statue resembling a pony, infused with dark magic. It could mimic a pony entirely, with all their memories and abilities. It felt like standing in the presence of King Sombra himself. I wish I could say we stood our ground, que we had a chance or even fought back, but no. He drove half of us mad with just a glance. It was as if they were trapped in their worst nightmare, yet invisible to the rest of us. Some writhed as if engulfed in flames, while others clawed at their own fur, battling imaginary spiders. Those who retained their senses attempted to retaliate, but a swift crystal shard put an end to that. I was the 'fortunate' one; the crystal only pierced my eye and grazed my skull."

"I was paralyzed, forced to witness as that fiend slaughtered my team, mocking them and me. He knew I was alive; he savored prolonging my torment. I don't know how long it lasted, pero by the time he approached me, I was too numb to speak. I could only watch as blood trickled down the crystal. The mimic remained silent, merely grinning, reveling in his own twisted art. Then, it happened—a bolt of celestial fire struck the mimic, sending it careening into the fire crystals, fulfilling my mission."

"I barely glimpsed a white-furred pony with a black mane, draped in a red robe, charging into the flames alongside his squad of guards. As my visión faded to black, I heard them chanting one name: Lord Evergore. That day, I aprendí dos things: the depths of evil and the weight of humility. My emotions and convictions led to the demise of my team, ponies who depended on me. I unleashed evil, and by chance, a hero intervened and rescued me, the undeserving. Henceforth, I can do naught but rid the world of such darkness, such as dark magic and its practitioners, and set an example, as they did with me."

Rising from his spot by the fire, Goldiethine approached Bob and John, who remained frozen like statues. They seemed almost devoid of breath. Goldiethine halted just behind them and posed a question.

"Have you ever pledged yourself to another, to bestow completo trust and loyalty? A duty that transcends all else, sí?"

The two guards hesitated before realizing there was no escape. Bob sighed.

"Just get it over with," he said.

"And stop wasting our time," John added.

Goldiethine nodded, and with a swift motion of his head to the side, he cleaved through the two guards with a slash of golden magic. Sparks flew as they collapsed to the ground, their legs twitching as if in mid-run.

Stray Sentinel and Brave Heart looked on in horrified shock, witnessing blood spurt from the gutted guardsman. Brave Heart rushed over and slid down beside them, his shock evident. He made gestures as if to help, but stopped short each time, realizing the futility of his efforts. Eventually, he sat there motionless, his head bowed in sorrowful shame, acknowledging his helplessness.

Observing Brave Heart with a discerning eye and a frown, Goldiethine turned to see Stray Sentinel still in shock, frozen with a mortified expression. It wasn't until Goldiethine approached that Stray Sentinel finally reacted, his face contorted with rage and fear. He lunged toward Goldiethine, striking him across the face with a hoof, splattering blood onto his own. Goldiethine retaliated with a swift punch to Stray Sentinel's face, sending him tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain. Dazed, Stray Sentinel struggled to rise, managing only to sit on his haunches, facing the impending threat.

Goldiethine stood motionless, observing Stray Sentinel as he had Brave Heart. After a few moments, he sighed and walked over to the fire, taking a seat. Stray Sentinel remained perplexed until he was jolted out of his confusion by Brave Heart's exclamation.

"What? What in Tartarus is this?! Why is it black?" Brave Heart shouted in fear, inching back with trembling steps.

Confusion gripped Stray Sentinel until Brave Heart stepped into the light, revealing his body smeared with a greasy black substance. Panic surged within him.

"It's the mage!" Stray Sentinel attempted to rise, but his trembling knees betrayed him. He halted his efforts when Goldiethine interjected.

"Stay down, tonto. It's not magic-related. Check the bodies," Goldiethine instructed with annoyance, his gaze fixed on the fire.

Stray Sentinel, still perplexed, crawled toward the bodies. He noticed sparks still emanating from them, albeit less intense. Pausing, he felt something warm and viscous on his hoof. Looking down, he saw he had dipped it into a dark puddle. Even holding it away, the stench of burning oil lingered. He tried to wipe it off but found it stubbornly sticky.

Pushing aside his irritation, he continued to examine the bodies. He observed sliced metal armor and fur coated with the black liquid. However, what baffled him most was the interior—tubes, wires, and crystals filled the space, along with other unidentified components.

"What in Equestria?"

That was all Stray Sentinel could muster as he stared blankly into the corpse—or whatever it was.

"One of Evergore's golems. I always knew he was a paranoid control freak, but I never thought he'd distrust me," Goldiethine muttered to himself with a pout, poking at the fire with a stick.

The woods fell into silence after the chaos. Stray Sentinel hovered over the fallen guard, while Brave Heart lingered by the fire, his expression a mix of uncertainty and pity as he heard Stray Sentinel's muffled sobs. He felt the urge to intervene but recognized that the young pony needed time to process and grieve amidst the chaos.

Turning his attention to Goldiethine, Brave Heart inquired, "How did you know they weren't real?"

Goldiethine shrugged, tilting his head before responding, "It was their behavior, their lack of normal actions like eating. And a bit of luck, to be honest. I even suspected you were one of them until you rushed over to help. The shock and confusion were beyond what a golem could mimic."

Horror flashed in Brave Heart's eyes, but he refrained from saying anything that might provoke the unstable pony before him. Instead, he simply stood vigil, awaiting the end of the night and the madness it brought.

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here! I got the fifth chapter done, let's go! Aways I've kinda been detracted lately with life and my other RWBY fanfiction, BUT! Things are going well and I'm feeling good about where the story is heading.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoyed, bye!

Gorkjaw

Chapter 6: A Christmas Trip - (Northern Mountain)

I felt my bones shift and snap back into place as I lumbered my way through the cave system, the blood coming out of my mouth slowly dying down. I had barely made it out of the Diamond Dogs' den, and I knew they wouldn't let me go easily. I had to make it to the territory not controlled by the Dogs and fast. I don't know if it was the dark magic or just my own ego, but my increasingly confrontational approach is getting out of hand.

'Was I going insane? Would I even know? Uh, I can't even get some time to sort this shit out; it's just fight after fight for, well, I don't think it's even been a day since I got here. I-- ew, why is my foot wet?'

Looking down, I saw a rainbow goo around my feet. I slowly lifted it up with a disgusted look on my face as I heard the wet, squeezing sound that came from it. It seemed to glow faintly, emitting a strange and pleasant aroma. Just as I moved off of it, a plume of multi-colored dust filled the cavern, causing me to pass out as the cavern's world with colors of Darkness and it's rainbow mixing together, causing me to see shapes and faces that I've never seen until the darkness went out and consumed the color.

Slowly, a chill crept through my body, different from the cold I usually summoned with my magic. Something soft and cold formed in my hands, morphing into a ball that slowly melted. Snow? Opening my eyes, I squinted against the brightness of the white sky meeting gray clouds, my vision adjusting painfully. As I struggled to sit up, an unfamiliar sensation washed over me, leaving me feeling disjointed. The surroundings seemed off, almost unnaturally so. Gingerbread houses with icing and gumdrops adorned the landscape, while candy canes lined the streets like streetlights. Music, devoid of vocals, began to play, a generic Christmas melody echoing through the bizarre scene.

Surveying the surreal environment, I realized why it felt so peculiar. Everything appeared staged, fake, like props on a theater set mimicking reality. The snow, the candy, the houses—nothing seemed genuine. With trembling hands, I pushed myself upright, studying my reflection in an ice pond nearby. To my relief, I appeared unchanged, my pale hands and familiar brown leather jacket confirming my identity. Even my short, messy brown hair and green eyes remained as they were before, unaffected by any magical alterations.

A sense of unease settled over me. Was this some sort of drug-induced hallucination, or perhaps a trick of the mind? I decided to wait it out, resisting the urge to delve too deeply into my mounting anxiety.

Suddenly, the area plunged into darkness, sending me into a panicked search until a spotlight illuminated one of the gingerbread houses, revealing a snowman adorned with a black top hat, ruby eyes, coal for a smile, a carrot nose, coal buttons, and stick arms. In the background, I spotted candy canes and pine trees adorned with Christmas decorations.

"Hey there, Robert! It's been ages!" the snowman exclaimed in a cartoonish voice, prompting me to stare at it in confusion and mild disturbance. Despite finding myself in a world of ponies and monsters, this encounter still managed to bewilder me, leaving me with only one response.

"Da fuck?" I blurted out.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend? Come on over and give your pal a warm welcome!" the snowman retorted with a hint of condescension.

I hesitated, studying the snowman until a flicker of recognition sparked within me. It resembled the snow creations my siblings and I used to make back home, albeit with some embellishments. But what was its name again? "Uh, mister... Frosty McChuckleflakes?"

I could almost hear the snowman mutter something under its breath before responding. "Yeah, that's me... McChuckleflakes. Yippee!" Its tone sounded slightly defeated as it uttered the name. "I'm here to help you, kid, by getting you to stop being a dumbas—dummy, because you're going to get yourself killed before you've paid off your due, kid."

Raising an eyebrow at McChuckleflakes, I couldn't shake off the absurdity of the situation. Was this truly something I would hallucinate about? I had half-expected to find myself turned to stone or facing off against monstrous creatures, not engaging in conversation with a sentient snowman. Nevertheless, with nothing better to do, I decided to play along.

"Alright, McChuckleflakes, what have you got? Going to tell me to better myself or use my new powers for good, like becoming a hero?" I quipped, my tone laced with a hint of skepticism.

"Man, screw them ponies!" McChuckleflakes retorted bluntly, his high-pitched voice cutting through the air and catching me off guard.

"Gasp, Mr. ChuckleFuck! I mean Frosted Flakes! I mean, uh, forget it. But seriously, what do you want? Because I'm kind of confused about what's happening here," I said, a smirk creeping onto my face as the absurdity of the situation began to amuse me.

"What I want is for you to start getting shit done! I know you've only been here for a day, but you're wasting time on lesser beings," McChuckleflakes said, his voice tinged with exasperation as he slumped slightly.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his bluntness. "What do you mean? I've just been getting my footing. Hell, I even did some research and spread fear in my name with the attack on the dogs and village."

McChuckleflakes shot me a deadpan look. "You mean you skimmed through some basic history and magic books and played around with some brutes. Truly, you deserve a medal. No, the only thing you've been doing is messing around with some random locals. You need to get your game plan on because you know the deal you made and what's at stake."

My smile quickly vanished at the snowman's words, replaced by a blank stare. "Well, I see no point in arguing with you. After all, it must be crazy to keep talking to a hallucination. So, unless you have anything else to say, I suggest you bugger off," I said, rolling my eyes.

McChuckleflakes fixed me with a serous look. "Robert, be serious for once in your lazy, cowardly life and do something of worth. You can't keep going on like this, or you'll end up in the clutches of the princesses. You know this as well as I. You are above that of a normal mage, but nothing extraordinary. If you run into any warrior or mage actually worth a damn, you will die or be in peril. Even with your regeneration and magic, a smart enough mage, a clever enough warrior, could easily best you. You can't rely on your buddy forever to carry you, and you know that. So, we need a plan, and luckily, I know of something that can help you."

"And what the hell could this great plan of yours be, oh great one?" I asked through gritted teeth, feeling rage rising within me at the disrespect emanating from this hallucination.

"There's a camp, a warlord within this mountain, the competing faction against the Diamond Dogs. If you somehow gain their trust, you can obtain the metal that's—" McChuckleflakes began, but then he seemed to lose control of himself for a moment, his words interrupted by a sudden distraction. "Oh, Frosty the Snowman was a—oh, fuck! I hate the mindscape, there's always so much garbage floating around!"

As he struggled to maintain coherence, an idea popped into my mind, and I couldn't resist the urge to sing.

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," I started, a wicked grin spreading across my face.

McChuckleflakes gave me a confused look before he too began to sing. "Had a very shiny nose—no, wait, don't do it, Robert!"

But I couldn't resist. "And if you ever saw it," I continued gleefully.

"You would even say it glows! FUCK!" McChuckleflakes exclaimed, his frustration evident as he succumbed to the absurdity of the moment.

Back in the north caves, Buddy was staring in horror as he saw Robert on his hands and knees, babbling on as his pupils dilated and rainbow magic flowed from his mouth. He was snapped out of his shock when Robert suddenly burst into song.

"Roo-doo, you red nosey

So bright shiny, whoa

Me look you, me see

Rainbow sky~"

Buddy looked around for something to help Robert sober up, but all he found were a few rocks and a stick. He glanced back at Robert and saw that he was drooling multi-colored magic. Having no other choice, Buddy grabbed the stick and slithered over to Robert. He poked him gently... in the eye. Robert blinked and then went rigid, starting a new verse.

"Other reindeers, man

Mean lame, yeah

No play you

No know name~"

Buddy kept poking Robert's eye, hoping for a miracle.

"But night, Santa

He say...~"

Robert paused for a moment, then collapsed on his stomach with a soft thud. He began to snore as Buddy continued to poke him.

And so, our story comes to an end. Robert the red-nosed reindeer was still high as a kite, and Buddy the snake was still poking him with a stick. Santa never came to pick them up, and they spent the night in the cold and dark north caves.

The moral of this story is: don't do drugs, kids. Especially not magic mushrooms that you find in a cave. They might make you see rainbows and sing songs. Christmas is a time of joy and peace, not of hallucinations and horror. So remember, kids, stay away from drugs, and have a merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Author's Note

Hello, Trashmaniac here, back with a Christmas special! I know it's a bit unusual, since it's spring in the story and far from December in the setting, but I think I made it work. it is more of a filler episode than anything, it was still fun to make. Happy holidays and new year from your boy Trashmaniac! Until then, have a good time!

Chapter 7: Jail Time - (Northern Mountain)

I trotted through the damp crystal caverns, my armor clinking with each step. The emblem of Lord Crystallus—a pair of golden wyverns—shone on my chest, making me look way cooler than I felt. I wasn’t really paying attention to the treasures around me. Gems, gold, and crystals glittered in the dim torchlight, but touching them? Nah, not worth the pain of Lord Crystallus’ wrath.

Behind me, a ragtag group of slaves—a mix of diamond dogs, ponies, and griffins—dragged carts full of loot, all shackled and grumbling under their iron collars. I didn’t care about their misery. They were there to work, not whine. If they slowed down, I whipped them. Simple.

“Hey, Straw Bind,” I said, trying to kill time. “How long you been with Lord Crystallus?”

“Two years. Why?”

“Just curious. I’ve been here three. I used to guard the Inner Circle, you know.”

“Really? Me too. I was a sergeant in the Crystal Guard before the princesses took over.”

“Ha! I was a lieutenant! Small world.”

“Yeah, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Everything’s different now.”

“True. King Sombra’s gone. Now we have Crystallus, and it’s... better, I guess.”

“Yeah, no complaints. He pays well, lets us do whatever we want as long as we don’t mess up. I like the perks.”

“Exactly. Those rebels still clinging to the past? They’re living in denial. Crystallus is the future, and they can’t touch him.”

“Right? Those diamond dogs are just pests. We caught a bunch of them yesterday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. They squealed like pigs. So fun.”

As we reached the treasure room, I paused to admire the stacks of loot, my eyes glittering with pride. Straw Bind didn’t seem as impressed, probably because he’d seen it all before. The slaves, on the other hoof, just looked miserable.

That’s when I spotted something odd on the floor. “Hey, what’s that?” I asked, pointing.

Straw Bind looked over. “Huh. Looks like a demon or something. Probably came from Tartarus.”

I squinted. “Should we kill it?”

“Nah,” Straw Bind said with a grin. “Let’s capture it. Crystallus loves weird stuff. Maybe he’ll use it for an experiment or just for fun.”

I thought about it for a second. “Good idea. Let’s do it.”

We approached the creature cautiously, ready to pounce if it woke up. It was snoring loudly, oblivious to our presence. We grabbed it by the limbs and dragged it toward the exit.

“Man, this thing smells terrible,” I muttered.

Straw Bind chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s a good find. Crystallus will love this.”

We tossed the creature behind the last slave, whipped them into motion, and made our way out. Just another day in the life of Lord Crystallus’ loyal minions.

I trotted along, chains rattling, dragging a demon the size of a damn house behind me. It was foaming at the mouth, snoring like a drunk at a tavern. Even though I towered over most, this thing was almost as big as my brother Ironhorn. I shot him a look, sweat beading on my brow as I muttered under my breath.

"Y'know, Ironhorn, I think we would’ve been better off with those stupid Diamond Dogs. At least they wouldn’t have us dragging around a demon."

He shot me a withering glance. "Wasn’t it your bright idea to head north instead of south? Remember? You know, away from the Dogs?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, a headache already forming. "South would've had us walking right into their jaws! We had to head deeper into the mountain, idiot."

"Sure, yeah. Totally." He snorted. "But south was closer to the exit. But I guess we’re stuck here now."

I rolled my eyes. Of course, this was his brilliant plan. "Don’t start with me, bro," I growled.

From behind us, Grimbeak—the grumpy old griffin—cut in, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Oh, here we go. The mighty Minotaur brothers, fighting over their bad decisions."

I bristled. "Watch it, featherbrain, or I’ll pluck you clean."

"Ha! Like a couple of dumb cows could take me down." Grimbeak scoffed.

Ironhorn gave me a look that said don’t do it, but my patience was wearing thin. "Keep talking, Grimbeak. We’ll settle this later."

The younger pony stallion, who was always trying to be the peacekeeper, stepped in. "Grimbeak, calm down. The demon’s bad enough; we don’t need you losing it too."

Grimbeak sighed, rubbing his face. "It’s not just the demon. It’s all this damn dark magic. Those things practically took over the world once, ran the Empire after the King fell. Now look at us. We’re stuck with this thing."

I snorted, not feeling an ounce of sympathy. "Aw, poor old griffin’s scared of a little demon? Pathetic."

Grimbeak bristled. "You have no idea what those demons did to the Stronghorn Dominion, kid."

I shrugged. "I don’t care about that. My clan’s all that matters."

Grimbeak opened his beak to say something, but I didn’t get to hear it. A whip cracked across my skull, blurring my vision for a second. "Shut it!" the guard barked, his voice rough. "Move it, or I’ll break your legs."

I bit back a curse, forcing myself to march forward. I wasn’t going back to the Dogs, not after all this. At least I was with my clan, even if they were a bunch of idiots. We just needed the right moment, and this whole escape would be worth it.

I woke up with a cough and the taste of candy in my mouth. I spat out something rainbow-colored and raised an eyebrow. What the hell happened last night, and why did my head feel like a rock band was holding a concert inside it?

I glanced around. Stone walls, crystal floors, and—of course—metal bars. Outside, I could see a whole area of cages with ponies, griffins, and minotaurs. Great. Another day, another hellhole.

This place was like a twisted version of the Diamond Dogs' base, but with a serious crystal obsession. I knew only one group who loved their crystals and slavery this much—Sombra's army. Well, that’s just perfect. I had just escaped from the mutts, and now I was stuck with this.

"Rise and shine, buttercup! Time to get to work, haha!" A pony from the cell across shouted. His voice was a bad Joker impression, his fur a mess, teeth missing—yeah, real winner. I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore him. The last thing I needed was some wannabe villain giving me a headache.

The other prisoners around me? Yeah, they all screamed bad news. Their dark vibes practically oozed out of them. Scum of the earth.

I lay on my side, playing with the shadows, letting them morph like clay before crumbling when I let go. Bored as hell, I decided to mess around with my magic. I grabbed a chunk of shadow, packed it into a ball, and infused a little magic into it.

To my surprise, it didn’t fall apart. It started moving like a little shadow creature. Maybe I should kill it? Nah, it’s not my problem anymore.

I tossed it out of my cell. A pair of glowing white eyes appeared on it, and it scurried off into the dark as a guard walked by. The idiot didn’t even notice. I chuckled. Maybe today wouldn’t suck after all.

Just to mess with him further, I flicked a little shadow at the guard. It hit his helmet with a satisfying clang. He spun around like a chicken looking for its head, completely clueless.

I watched with a smirk as the shadow slid down his helmet and slithered into his eye guard. Perfect. Just in case.

I sighed and made myself comfortable—if you could call being locked in a cage in a cave comfortable. I had no idea where the hell I was, couldn’t go back to Earth, and the Crystal Empire was off-limits for now. Not to mention, I was on the radar of some serious guards and maybe the princesses.

But what the hell was I supposed to do? Try to build an army? With what? I had no power, no resources, and no solid foundation. And let’s face it, anyone I tried to control would probably break free. I needed power, loyalty... maybe a few loyal minions. But that’s a lot of work.

I lay back, staring at the ceiling. The glow from the crystal lights was almost soothing. The guard—looking like he’d seen better days—stood at the front, his armor covered in black crystals with a dim green glow. It was a subtle sign of something bigger going on here. Sombra didn’t just hang out in the Crystal Empire in the show, so this was some weird alternate Equestria nonsense.

How bad is it, really? Are they at war? Is it over? And who won? Sombra couldn’t have won—there’s no way. The guards in Timberlake praised the princesses like they were literal gods. Rebels, maybe? But they didn’t seem like the first responders. Plus, the town looked... normal. A little too normal. Like a Disney version of normal. Ugh. Where am I? When am I?

I gritted my teeth as my claws dug into the stone floor, cracking it. My eyes flashed white for a second before I calmed myself, pushing my smoky hair back with a sigh.

It’s fine. It’s fine. The song may have changed, but the dance is the same. Find powerful items, use them to build a base, get stronger, then... wing it.

A sudden wave of memories hit me, and I realized that the magic I slipped into the pony’s head was working. I winced as my vision blurred, fading into a familiar bluish-black void filled with white dots—like stars in the sky. A path appeared, glowing with white energy, and around it, monitors flickered to life, displaying screens of the same energy.

I’ve been here before, but this time’s different. Maybe because I’m not hunting for anything specific? Well, whatever. I’ll take a look around. Might be something useful here to help me achieve my goals.

The screens lit up suddenly, responding to my thoughts. I jumped back, startled by the flash, but curiosity quickly overpowered my caution. This might be interesting.

I stared at the monitor to my left. A warped version of the Crystal Empire, completely covered in a dome of blackness. Outside, undead skeletons shuffled around while dark guards patrolled the city. I could almost feel the magic oozing from the screen, the memories of some poor grunt flooding my mind. I forced myself to snap out of it and turned to the other monitor.

A dragon. A huge, smug-looking thing, sitting on a hoard of gold and metal. My claws itched to grab it. As my fingers brushed the screen, whispers filled my mind. Hard to catch the words, but I caught enough: invincible, strong, valuable. That’s all I needed.

I broke the mental connection with the guard, the void around me flashing to white, blinding me before I found myself back in the cage. Greed surged through me. I looked up at the ceiling, muttering, "Power… ughhh..."

The guard glanced at me, rolling his eyes before walking off. I could practically taste the fear of the other captives. I was getting out of here, and when I did, I was going to make them regret it.

I shifted into a shadowy mist and tried to phase through the bars, only to get zapped by some kind of magical barrier. I slammed into the wall, cracking it. Fantastic. I shook my head, glaring at the door, and yelled at the guard.

"Hey, moron! What time is it?"

The guard froze. "What the hell—?"

"Yeah, you, lard face. You got cotton in your ears or something?"

He marched over, horn glowing. "You want to die, trash?"

I flicked a piece of dirt at him. He snapped, his magic crackling, but before he could do anything, Mr. Ball—yeah, that's what I called the shadow blob now—wrapped around his neck. Crack. Guard down. My new friend grabbed the keys and opened the door.

The other captives stared, terrified, but I didn’t care. I could smell their fear like a fine wine. Shadows leapt from me, spreading through the cages. The others cowered, except for one. A crazy pony with a jester's hat and a grin full of missing teeth.

"Hey, hey, hey! You're a demon, huh? From the crystal wars? You just killed that guard? You’re amazing! I'm Jinx, by the way. Pleasure!" He stuck out his hoof for a shake.

I gave him a skeptical look but played along, shaking his hoof. Suddenly, a jolt of electricity shot through me. "Oops, couldn’t help myself. I love pranking ponies here," he giggled.

"I'm...," I said, then paused. Robert? No one was going to fear or respect Robert. I needed something more... menacing. "I’m Vex, the Father of Shadows."

The crowd of misfits stared at me, confused. Time for some dramatic flair.

"I know your fears, your pain, your plight, But I bring a gift to turn the dark to light." I struck a pose atop a rock, feeling like a god.

A pony raised an eyebrow. "Fools we are not, to trust a demon’s lies."

An older griffon scoffed. "What makes you so special?"

Jinx, the psycho, jumped forward. "We need a sign, man! Prove you’re not just another demon full of hot air!"

I smirked, pulling out a glowing, golden contract from nowhere. "A simple deal, nothing more, nothing less. Sign here, and freedom is yours."

Ironhide, a muscle-bound Minotaur, stepped forward. "I’m no fan of words or song, but I know a chance when I see one. I’ve been a slave to worse than you. I’ll sign."

The crowd murmured, buzzing with hope. Ironhide signed with a flourish, and suddenly, Jinx was wrapped in shadows, glowing with newfound power. "Oh man, this is grand!" he yelled, laughing wildly.

The others, confused but intrigued, followed suit. Their doubts faded, their hopes rising. Well, all except the pony and griffon who stood back, still skeptical.

"And so, my friends," I declared, "Our tale begins. Power awaits, and together, we’ll claim it. No mere dream, but a destiny forged in shadows."

As the last words echoed, I grinned. This was only the beginning.

Evergore lounged in his plush chair, sipping tea like a boss. His mansion hung on the edge of Canterlot Mountain, a place so luxurious it made even the air feel posh. But just as the tranquility of his perfectly orchestrated life settled in, his two most insufferable—yet somehow charming—guests walked in: Honey Berry, the food mogul who could sell you rotten apples if she pitched it right, and Bronze Bull, a minotaur who could turn raw iron into gold just by staring at it. Together, they were House Crystal Tech’s power trio.

"So, Evergore, how’s that Crystal Tower coming along?" Honey Berry's voice dripped with the kind of sweetness that made you wonder how many people she'd tricked today.

"Oh, the Crystal Tower?" Evergore replied with a grin, setting his cup down like he was about to drop some knowledge. "It's coming along marvelously. Think of it as a magical version of your crystal balls—only this time, it's not just for wartime comms. We’re talking about a device so advanced, it’ll allow families and businesses across the empire to communicate without sending a damn letter!"

Bronze Bull chuckled, his deep voice vibrating the air. "You sure about that? My old man would’ve rather sent smoke signals than deal with any 'advanced magic tech' like that."

Honey Berry rolled her eyes. "Classic minotaur," she muttered, though with a smirk. "But seriously, Evergore, that tech’s a game-changer. If House Goldleaf doesn’t try to muscle in on that, I’ll eat my weight in cake."

"That's the plan," Evergore said with a devilish smile. "If they want in, they'll have to kiss my—" he cleared his throat. "Well, you know. But it’s good business, which means I’ll be rich, and you’ll both be even richer from the scraps."

Bronze Bull raised his glass. "To that, then. No complaints here!"

They clinked glasses, and after a few more sips, the conversation shifted to business—well, mostly business. Honey Berry leaned forward with a wink.

"So, how’s your farm doing, honey? Your jam is so popular, even the Royal Guard’s buying it by the crate."

Evergore smirked. "She's got her fingers in every pie, doesn’t she?"

Honey Berry just winked. "It’s called diversification, darling."

Bronze Bull snorted. "Couldn’t agree more. You think that jam could save a marriage?" He leaned back, grinning. "Because my wife’s expecting again. The fourth one, and we’re betting on a colt this time."

"I see," Evergore said with a chuckle. "The great Bronze Bull, a master of metal, and yet... you still can’t forge a son with your bare hands?"

"Hey, I’m not picky. Just want something that isn’t covered in pink bows this time," Bronze Bull joked, nudging Honey Berry, who was laughing along.

As the trio basked in their perfectly comfortable, rich-folk banter, the tone shifted once again, and the topic of Luna came up. Evergore, ever the tactician, steered the conversation with a sly smile.

"So, speaking of family matters, how’s Princess Luna doing with her... hobby of chasing remnants of Sombra’s cult?" he asked, like he was ready for a good debate.

Honey Berry shrugged, making a face. "It’s a waste of time. I mean, they’re dead, Luna. Let. It. Go."

Bronze Bull slammed his fist down. "You’re wrong, Honey. Luna’s got a point. Those cultists are a serious problem. You underestimate them at your own peril."

Honey Berry raised an eyebrow. "You really think chasing shadows in the Crystal Empire is worth it?"

"Of course I do," Bronze Bull growled. "You never know when those bastards might pop back up. They’re like bad plumbing—always coming back to bite you when you least expect it."

Evergore leaned back, eyeing the two. "Both of you make valid points," he said smoothly. "But let's be honest—Luna’s stuck in the past. She’s too obsessed with her ‘warrior’ days. And her inability to connect with the court is... obvious."

Honey Berry nodded. "Exactly. We need Celestia. She’s the one holding Equestria together, not Luna."

Bronze Bull huffed. "I don’t know about that. Luna’s not useless. Yeah, maybe she’s a little... direct, but her heart’s in the right place."

Evergore smiled coldly. "Well, why do we even need two princesses?" He paused dramatically. "What if Equestria only had one? Imagine the power, the unity, the glory of a single voice guiding us—Princess Celestia’s voice."

Honey Berry’s eyes lit up, clearly on the same page. "I like the way you think, Evergore. Why settle for two when we can have one flawless ruler?"

Bronze Bull winced. "Oh, now hold on a second—Celestia’s great, but Luna’s got her value. They both bring something different."

"Does Luna really?" Evergore shot back. "Or is she just the moon to Celestia’s sun, existing only for contrast?"

The air thickened as Honey Berry and Bronze Bull exchanged uneasy glances. But before the discussion could spiral further, Evergore’s necklace buzzed with an urgent red flash. His mood darkened immediately.

"Excuse me," he muttered, standing up and striding into the mansion. He glanced at the message. His face tightened. "Well, shit."

The rest of the party followed his lead, but Evergore knew this would only get more complicated.

Author's Note

Hey, TrashManic here! Chapter 7 is here! And I shorten the chapter a bit to fix the chapter pace.

Bronze Bull and Honey Berry

Chapter 8: A Short Lived Victory - (Northern Mountain)

Waking up with a yawn and a stretch of my serpent body, I emerged from the shadows as if rising through water. Groggily, I looked around for my host, Robert. The tunnel was empty, with the only evidence of Robert’s presence being his outline on the dirt and stone floor, showing that he had been dragged away.

Lovely, With how much trouble he gets into, it was only a matter of time before he got himself beheaded. Well, I better get to him before something bad happens. Then again, he should be fine for a bit. I practically cast all his spells anyway, sparing him the tedious process of mathematical equations and incantations. Especially that electric magic he's so fond of—I had to deal with a few bloody spirits for those ones.

My thoughts were interrupted as dust fell on my nose. I shook my head to clear it and looked up, just in time to see a rock crash down, crushing me and sending dark shadows splattering across the walls. Two Diamond Dogs poked their heads out of the ceiling, looking around in confusion. White eyes appeared in the darkness that had been scattered when I was crushed, allowing me to get a good look at the two dogs. To my surprise, it was Puck and Bill.

"Aw, doggone it! We busted out too soon. Those slaves gotta be deeper down. Let's keep diggin'!" Puck whispered, annoyed, as he ducked back into the hole. The bigger dog, Bill, rolled his eyes before retreating, the sound of rocks being moved becoming more muffled as they dug deeper.

Seeing this as an easy way to bypass the crystal guards, I slithered up the wall and into the hole, following the newly made tunnel.

Seated on my makeshift throne of jagged stone, crystal, and ominous shadows, I surveyed my growing army of corrupted Minotaurs. They were stronger, faster, and more agile—better versions of themselves. A few even tested out newfound flying abilities, which looked more like drunken flailing but hey, progress is progress. None, however, showed special powers like Jinx. Clearly, the guy was one of a kind, and not in a good way.

Across the room, the griffin and the old pony who’d refused my generous offer sat sulking. I could’ve vaporized them, sure, but mercy has its perks. Alive, they served as a reminder of my graciousness. Dead? They’d be a headache waiting to happen in the form of a rebellion I’d rather skip.

"Uh, excuse me, sir, or... uh, Mr. Vex?" a hesitant voice broke the monotony. I glanced down to see one of my shadow-cloaked Minotaurs, his nervous energy radiating like a kid caught raiding the cookie jar.

I straightened up, letting my aura of menace settle over him like a thick fog. "What is it? And you are…?"

"Thunderhide, sir," he stammered, shifting his hooves like he’d rather be anywhere else. "I was just wondering, uh, what the plan is—"

Before he could finish, Buddy—a reliable idiot with no sense of timing—burrowed through the ceiling like an uninvited mole, landing in the middle of the room. Dust and debris rained down, and for a moment, we just stared at each other in mutual confusion.

Then his eyes started glowing white, and before I could even throw a snarky remark, my brain was flooded with his memories. Without consent.

"Seriously?!" I groaned, rubbing my temples as the onslaught of unsolicited trauma-porn visions took hold. "Ever heard of knocking?!"

The room fell silent except for Buddy’s sheepish muttering. Thunderhide, wisely, stepped back into the shadows, clearly reevaluating his life choices.

"Buddy, you son of a bitch! Don’t do that without warning!" I snapped, collapsing back into my throne, clutching my head as Buddy’s unsolicited memory dump wreaked havoc on my brain. Thunderhide froze mid-breath while the rest of my crew bristled, ready to pounce on the intruder.

I raised a hand, wincing. "Stand down! He’s... ugh... with us. Damn it, Buddy, handle your crap later. Thunderhide, go on."

Thunderhide hesitated but continued. "Uh, the plan? Most guards are in the lunch hall. No one’s noticed the jailbreak yet. What’s our move?"

"How many in the lunchroom?" I groaned, still massaging my temple.

He squinted, waggling a hand. "About 12."

"Easy. We take 'em out," I said, my headache fading as Buddy’s chaotic memories settled. Among the nonsense—Christmas carols? Seriously?—I found a gem: me, chained and tortured by smug ponies bragging about their fun little experiments. On me? Me?! The audacity made me shake with rage, but I played it off as headache jitters when Thunderhide flinched.

"Alright, folks, gear up! Lunch hall raid incoming! Jinx, you’re leading!"

A collective groan filled the chamber as Jinx practically somersaulted with glee, screaming, "YAHOO!"

I rose, cracking my neck. "Now, we could devise a brilliant strategy... but nah. We’re outnumbering these chumps two-to-one, and we’re juiced up on dark magic. So screw finesse—just get in there and wreck 'em!"

The room erupted in cheers as my minions surged to action, their shadows twisting with anticipation. Jinx took the lead, laughing maniacally and juggling explosives like party favors.

The cavern glowed dimly with crystal light as my comrades and I huddled around a rough stone table, picking at a sad excuse for a meal. Our armor, patched with King Sombra's signature dark crystals, marked us as loyal followers of Lord Crystallus. The vibe was equal parts camaraderie and "we’re all doomed," thanks to a string of unsettling news.

Stonehoof, the walking mountain of an earth pony, grumbled, "The Diamond Dogs are getting rowdy. Bold little mongrels, ain’t they?"

I nodded, my gaze lingering on the dark crystal patches. "Yeah, their antics could become a problem. We’ll squash 'em if they get ideas."

Shadowmist, the smug unicorn with a talent for stirring the pot, snorted. "Let 'em fight over their shiny rocks. As long as they don’t bother us, who cares?"

She wasn’t wrong, but the Dogs were cunning in their own slobbery way. "Don’t underestimate them," I said, though my mind wandered. Namely, to the slaves I’d recently “acquired” from a Diamond Dog caravan. My companions hadn’t connected the dots yet, but it was only a matter of time before that particular mess bit me in the flank.

Stonehoof leaned in, voice thick with disdain. "Those slaves? Diamond Dogs’ property. Lord Crystallus isn’t gonna like this."

Feigning ignorance, I forced a laugh. "Yeah, uh, whoever did that is screwed." Nervous sweat? Check.

Trying to shift gears, I asked, "Any news on Luna? Rumor has it she’s leading her own crusade."

Stonehoof nodded grimly. "Luna’s steamrolling the warlords. Bringing Canterlot’s best to clean house. If even Subicor couldn’t stop her, who’s left to try? Sombra?"

Shadowmist added, her tone gleefully ominous, "I heard whispers about the Followers of the Great Meltdown. Demon summoners, war golems—they’re crazy, but they’ve held back Luna more than once."

Great. Just what we needed—lunatics with a chaos fetish complicating the battlefield. Still, a wildcard like that could be useful. Or it could blow up in our faces. Literally.

Before I could dwell on it, a guard burst in, looking half-dead from terror. "EVERYPONY UP! WE’RE UNDER ATTA—"

He didn’t finish. Shadows engulfed him, his screams echoing as he dissolved into nothing.

Silence. Then Stonehoof muttered, "Well, buck."

The cavern plunged into chaos, the scent of fear and death choking the air. Guess lunch was over.

The sanctuary's peace shattered as a horde of shadow-clad creatures stormed in, a cacophony of chaos and violence. Minotaurs thundered across the room, griffins dived from above, and ponies—yes, even ponies—rushed in with savage glee. Magic blasts fizzled uselessly, and any wounds inflicted on these abominations knitted back together with unsettling ease.

I barely had time to process the madness before a shadowy diamond dog lunged at me. Its claws glinted in the dim light as I deflected its strike, slicing off an arm. That was my mistake. Tendrils of tar erupted from the stump, swinging the severed limb at me like a grotesque club. The impact sent me sprawling, the sickening squelch of the arm reattaching following shortly after.

"Well, that's horrifying," I muttered, pushing myself up, only for Stonehoof’s mace to send the beast flying. The stoic tank of a stallion gave me a curt nod, his dark crystal armor gleaming as he plowed through a group of Minotaurs like a battering ram. Shadowmist flanked us, her magic snapping around like a whip, ensnaring enemies in glowing tendrils.

Even with their help, it was clear we were losing. The creatures just wouldn’t stay down, and some snake-like abomination slithered about, breaking our traps and freeing its allies. Behind us, our comrades were falling one by one, subdued by inky tendrils that dragged them into the shadows.

"Fall back!" I shouted, hoping we’d make it to the exit before the next wave hit.

No such luck.

A cackling jester emerged, juggling two bombs that radiated dark energy. "Leaving so soon?" he mocked, his grin wide enough to be concerning. Without waiting for a reply, he tossed the bombs. They didn’t explode—no, that would’ve been too kind. Instead, they unfurled into writhing tendrils that ensnared us before we could react.

"Well, this is embarrassing," I grunted, struggling against the living chains.

The jester sauntered over, his mockery relentless. "Oh, how tragic! The mighty warriors, reduced to helpless hostages. I love it!"

I spat back, "You won’t get away with this!"

"Yes, yes, you're very brave. Blah blah blah." With a dramatic gesture, he silenced me with a tentacle wrapping around my muzzle. My dignity died a little.

Before we could endure more humiliation, a towering figure strode into the room. He ducked under the doorway, wings unfurling like shadows come to life. His glowing eyes swept the battlefield, taking in the chaos with a smirk that screamed final boss energy. The room fell silent as he stopped before the jester, his voice like velvet-coated doom.

"Where’s Black Shard?"

Oh, fantastic. We weren’t just losing—we were losing his attention.

In the sanctum of my chambers, bathed in soft crystal light and the faint tang of incense, I sit in my throne-like chair, exuding bored authority. My armor gleams with refracted light, its crystalline shards sharp enough to make any fashion critic weep. My helmet, a masterpiece of both menace and glitter, rests before me, its crown of crystals. My face, hidden behind a cracked plastic mannequin mask with crystals poking out like an avant-garde art project, completes the look.

I sip wine and eye the golden-clad pony with thorny gold vines and crimson crystals dotting his mask.

"Deal with the intruders," I say, waving a hoof lazily, as if swatting away a particularly dull fly. "They’re interrupting my me time."

He bows dramatically, as golden light engulfs him, turning him into sparkly dust that drifts off towards the lunchroom, undoubtedly to ruin someone’s day.

Left alone, I recline in my chair, swirling the wine. The flickering candlelight dances on the walls, and I let out a contented sigh. Life as a crystal-shadow overlord is good. No one disturbs my reign... until they do.

The cafeteria looked like someone had designed it using "prehistoric chic." Crystal-studded stone tables and chairs were scattered about, making me feel like I’d walked into a Flintstones episode with a gem fetish. I sauntered over to Jinx, wings unfurling dramatically. The guy deserved a show after pulling off our plan to take out those "elite" guards.

"Where’s Black Shard?" I asked.

Jinx saluted like an overeager cadet. "In here!"

I blinked. "No duh, genius. Where exactly?"

He glanced around, shrugged, and I facepalmed hard enough to hear my brain cells die. Turning to my squad, I got nothing but avoidance. Finally, I clapped my claws, locking eyes with the tied-up guards.

"Alright, listen up, you discount paperweights. Where’s Black Shard?"

Silence. Great. I extended a claw, sharpening it dramatically. "Fine, I’ll just kill you all and read your minds. Efficiency, right?"

One guard cracked faster than a bad ceramic plate. "Wait! He’s the gagged guy! Over there!"

I approached the poor bastard they’d ratted out—a younger stallion, gagged and bound. I crouched, smirking. "You tried to rope me into experiments and slavery? Tsk, tsk. Some slaver you turned out to be—bound, gagged, and ready to die. Pathetic."

As I spoke, I trailed a claw across his helmet, scratching it just to drive the fear home. The other guards squirmed, but my mercs cheered like they were at a bloodsport.

I leaned closer. "Normally, I’d let you beg, but my clients want your head, and I’m feeling generous today."

With a gleefull grin, I prepared to decapitate him, savoring the moment as fear radiated off everyone in waves. My guards looked like they were reconsidering their contracts.

"B-boss… is that…" Thunderhide stammered, pointing at my chest.

I looked down. A golden thorny vine had impaled me. Shadows oozed from the hole, but hey, at least I wasn’t dead. I cut the vine with my tail, shadows filling the gap in seconds.

"Annoying," I muttered, nodding at Jinx to finish off the rest of the tied-up guards. He grinned and skipped toward them—literally skipped—but was stopped by another vine erupting from the ground.

Golden light swirled as a pony materialized, decked out in green robes, gold armor, and enough accessories to put a diva to shame. His bone-and-gold staff pulsed with magic, and with a single tap, my lackeys hit the floor, unconscious.

I circled him, casually cracking my claws. "You lost, priest? Or just looking for a sermon?"

The pony—Malachi, apparently—glared at me. "Thy arrogance shall be thy undoing, creature. I am the third apostle, the one who shall humble thee."

"Ah, cultist. Got it," I said, grinning. "I love punching those."

He didn’t appreciate the joke, firing another vine that I barely dodged. Crackling electricity surrounded my claws as I rushed him, wings boosting my speed. But before I could land a hit, he waved his staff, slamming me into the ground with golden lightning.

"You’ll die like the rest of your kind," Malachi said, stabbing his staff into my back for good measure.

I wheezed, then laughed, looking up at him. "That’s it? Come on, put some effort into it!"

Behind him, Buddy slithered through the unconscious guards, waking them one by one. Malachi noticed too late. I knocked his staff away, pouncing on him with claws slashing and wings beating.

He screamed, sprouting a golden tree from his cloak that impaled me like some demonic Christmas ornament. With a flash of light, he dissolved into particles, re-forming a few feet away.

Blood slid down the tree branch skewering me, and my spit came out hot with copper. “Fuck you, short ass,” I managed to sneer at Malachi.

Malachi tilted his golden mask slightly, exuding smugness. “Your defiance is as pointless as your existence.”

Buddy, ever the MVP, launched dark tendrils at him from the shadows. Malachi barely flinched, twirling his staff to deflect them with a golden flare. Before I could shout out a warning, Buddy was yanked forward, bonked on the head like a cartoon villain, and knocked out cold. I wasn’t far behind, the edges of my vision blurring as the world gave way to darkness.

I woke up groggy in a dimly lit room, the glow of purple crystals casting unsettling shadows across the walls. The air reeked of incense, struggling—and failing—to mask the stench of rot.

Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my head. “Who burns incense in a goddamn slaughterhouse?”

A calm voice emerged from the shadows. “It helps. Some.”

I froze, scanning the room. Across from me sat a figure shrouded in darkness, their face obscured by a plastic pony mask—equal parts creepy and ridiculous.

“Who the hell are you?” I snapped.

The figure leaned forward slightly, revealing a single milky white eye glowing beneath the mask. “I am Lord Crystallus,” he said, his voice measured and deliberate.

“Cool. Do you want a medal or something?”

He ignored the jab. “You want power,” he said, his tone smooth as silk. “Real power. The kind that turns gods into dust and enemies into ash. I can give you that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And what’s the fine print?”

Crystallus leaned back, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. “A gift,” he said simply. “Accept my offer, and I’ll give you strength beyond your imagination. Refuse…” His glowing eye pulsed ominously. “Let’s just say you won’t leave this room intact.”

I didn’t miss the venom in his voice. “Malachi’s involved in this?” I asked, feigning disinterest.

Crystallus let out a low chuckle. “Malachi serves me,” he said, his voice hardening. “Together, we’ve defied death itself. But you, Vex—you’re something far more interesting. I want to see what you’ll become with my help.”

I barked a bitter laugh. “Fine. But if you screw me over, I’ll make you wish you’d stayed dead.”

Crystallus’s eye gleamed, and he tilted his head as if savoring my words. “Oh, Vex,” he purred, voice dripping with menace. “Betrayal? That’s such a nasty word. Let’s just call it… opportunity.”

Author's Note

Hey it's me Trashmaniac! As always, feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. Feel free to share your thoughts on the story and characters.

Thank you again for reading, and stay tuned for more stories to come!

Lord Crystallus:

Malachi:

Chapter 10: Out of the Pan and into the Fire - (Northern Mountain)

The night dragged on, the air thick with unspoken tension. Stray Sentinel sat in stunned silence, replaying his disastrous mistakes from the night before. Beside him, Brave Heart was lost in his own grief, guilt eating away at him. How had he not seen it coming? Across from them, Goldiethine was bored out of his mind, tapping his hooves and scanning the horizon for something—anything—interesting.

As the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon, Goldiethine, ever the impatient one, decided it was time to move. With a dramatic flair, he kicked dirt over the fire, snuffing it out like a child ending a tantrum. He shot them both a look that made it clear this wasn’t up for discussion.

"Get up, you two! We’ve got a D.M.U to catch, and don’t forget the crate! It might actually be useful for once!" he ordered, already walking off toward the mountains.

Stray and Brave exchanged glances, their shared guilt and frustration forming an unspoken bond. With heavy sighs, they stood and hefted the crate between them, the strange weight of it unsettling. The crate hummed with electricity, making them both uneasy as they followed Goldiethine, who was already a speck in the distance.

As they walked, the crate suddenly let out a mechanical whir, followed by a hiss. The front panel opened with an ominous creak, revealing a glowing red optic staring them down. A golden golem emerged from the box, its dark, swirling patterns and razor-sharp claws sending a chill down their spines. The thing had a grill-mouth and a glowing chest device that hummed menacingly.

The golem’s red optic locked onto them, its metallic voice sending an icy chill down their spines.

"Target marked. Objective: Eliminate target."

Stray Sentinel and Brave Heart froze, hearts pounding in terror. Goldiethine, however, barely spared them a glance before continuing his casual stroll, unfazed.

With a thunderous crash, the golem jumped from the crate, landing with perfect precision. It ignored the ponies completely, focusing on Goldiethine as its VIP. A red energy sword ignited from its hand, and it began hacking its way through the landscape like a one-robot wrecking crew, oblivious to the chaos it caused.

"Hey, slowpokes! Keep up! The D.M.U isn’t going to catch itself! And don’t sweat the golem—he’s with us. Evergore never disappoints, trust me!" Goldiethine’s voice drifted back, too cheerful for the situation.

Stray and Brave exchanged uncertain glances, but what choice did they have? They hurried after him, the dense forest giving way to patches of shimmering gems. They soon reached a glowing cave entrance, where two Diamond Dogs stood guard, their eyes flashing menacingly.

Goldiethine stopped in front of them, utterly unbothered. Stray and Brave trailed behind, nerves rattling. Goldiethine’s horn flared, and he grinned widely.

"Look at you chicos—glowing eyes, dark magic leaking out of everywhere! Looks like you need a little remedy!" With a dramatic flick of his hooves, he shouted, "¡Aplasta su cráneo!"

Before the ponies could blink, the golem moved like lightning, its fist smashing into one of the dogs' skulls with a sickening crunch. Blood and brain matter splattered across the rocks in a gruesome mess.

The second dog barely had time to react before the golem’s energy blade sliced through its neck, decapitating it cleanly. Blood sprayed like a fountain as the head rolled away, the body crumpling lifelessly.

Stray and Brave stared, wide-eyed and speechless. Goldiethine, however, strutted past the bloody scene like it was a regular Tuesday.

"Good work, buddy!" he said to the golem with a pat on its head. "Let’s go, we’ve got places to be!"

The ponies could only follow in stunned silence, the cave entrance now unguarded and dripping with gore. They had no idea what was coming next, but they were in it now.

I strode down the ancient, damp path, the sound of my clawed feet echoing like an ominous drumbeat. The cool air clung to my skin, making me shiver, but I didn’t mind. Thunderhide followed behind, his giant shadow a comforting presence.

At the end of the tunnel, a massive stone gate loomed in front of us. With a casual flick of my wrist, I ripped a boulder from the ground and tossed it at the gate. It exploded on impact, sending debris flying in every direction. Thunderhide jumped back, his eyes wide as if I’d just set off a fireworks show in a cave.

"Relax, buddy," I called over my shoulder with a grin. "We’re almost there. Just a little more fun before the big prize."

I stepped over the rubble and entered the vast quarry beyond. The place was a wreck—crates, tents, and broken wagons scattered everywhere like a forgotten yard sale. This place was a ghost town, but something told me the ghosts might be a little more real than usual.

I rubbed my chin, surveying the quarry with a thoughtful frown. The abandoned state of the place screamed "Lord Chrysalis"—it was the kind of mess he left behind. The gate we just blew open? Definitely his hidden shortcut into the mountain, probably to avoid any princess-related inconveniences. If I could reverse-engineer it, we might have something useful. Or, you know, just blow it up for fun.

I snapped my fingers, and Thunderhide popped up beside me like a trained dog. "Crystallus said it’s at the bottom here, right?" I asked, squinting down into the abyss.

Thunderhide nodded, dead serious. "Yes, boss."

With a devilish grin, I whacked him on the back with my tail, sending him tumbling off the edge. His expression was pure gold—like a mix of confusion and terror—until his scream disappeared into the void. A few seconds later, I heard a satisfying thud, and I felt it through the ground.

I stepped off the edge myself, counting the seconds as the wind whipped past. By the time I hit four, I spread my wings and slowed my descent, landing next to Thunderhide, who was now in a small crater.

He groaned, picking himself up with a series of pops and cracks. "Boss... never do that again," he wheezed, his eyes glassy.

I just shook off the dust from my wings. "Don't be dramatic."

The quarry was a sad sight—crates, broken wagons, and flickering crystals like abandoned mall lights. In the center was a stone arch with a metal structure looming next to it. I casually flipped the gate key in my hand, the blue gem glowing.

The arch hummed to life, its runes sparking as a portal started to form, shimmering like a puddle of liquid magic. I grinned, stepping forward, feeling the ancient power pulsing in the air. Thunderhide hesitated but followed.

"This is it," I muttered, eyeing the portal. "Let’s see what secrets are waiting."

Before I could take another step, a massive armored hand punched through the air, slamming me into Thunderhide. We both went down like a ton of bricks. Groaning, I picked myself up and saw the metal structure had turned into a terrifying, bipedal beast—cannons, pinchers, glowing green chest, the whole shebang.

One of its cannons pointed straight at us, and a robotic voice boomed, "This is government property. Show identification or be eradicated."

I sighed. "Well, this is awkward."

Thunderhide and I stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard. Then, I reacted like any competent leader would—I flung Thunderhide into the portal with a wave of my magic. He screamed as he disappeared, and I dove sideways just as the robot fired its cannon, leaving an eight-foot smoking crater where I used to be.

I quickly grabbed the robot with my magic, but the pit in its chest glowed, and a green wave of electricity fried my magic to pieces. Before I could react, another blast shot at me. I barely dodged, wings spread, while Buddy conjured a shield to protect us from the shockwave.

With a grin, I telekinetically hurled every crate and broken tent I could find at the robot, burying it under a massive pile of debris. But just as I was about to dive into the portal, the robot exploded free, charging at me like a tank on fire. The ground shook as it tore through the rubble, but I wasn’t slowing down.

I leapt through the portal just as the robot launched another attack, crashing into something hard. Coins scattered everywhere, and I groaned as I stumbled to my feet.

The portal flickered, and then—bam—a massive black metal arm shot through, gouging the ground as it tried to grab me. I watched as it fizzled with green electricity and blue smoke before the portal closed, severing it. It twitched, grabbing at air, then fell still.

Buddy slithered over to it, wrapping around the stump and absorbing the electricity like a vacuum cleaner. I lay there, catching my breath. "What the hell was that?"

"War golem from the Dark Empire," Thunderhide said, emerging from a pile of gold and gems, casually shaking his gauntlets and dropping coins.

I blinked, then looked around. The room was a treasure trove. Gold, gems, artifacts—everywhere. This couldn’t be Lord Chrysalis’ stash—no way he had this much.

"Thunderhide, you seeing this?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

He grinned. "Definitely not a bad stash," he said, still trying to empty his gauntlets of gold.

I absorbed the gold into my palm and stood up, surveying the room. More treasure rooms, but what really caught my eye was a tunnel that looked like it had been burned out. Metal? That’s what we were after.

I snapped my fingers to summon Buddy back and gave Thunderhide a look. "Guard this area. If Lord Chrysalis or that damn robot shows up, report immediately. Don’t do anything stupid."

Thunderhide nodded, and I marched toward the tunnel, driven by the promise of more treasure and secrets.

The tunnel was short, but the chamber we entered was massive—more treasure, of course, but also a forge. At its center was a glowing shard that looked like pure magic. But I stayed focused. The mission was still on.

Buddy, meanwhile, was already lost in the piles of gold and gems. I moved ahead, but Buddy froze, sensing something. He turned, eyes wide, and froze in shock as he stared at a massive, glowing eye—ten times his size.

He recoiled, bumping into me so hard I almost stumbled. I glanced back at him, annoyed.

"Watch where you're going, Buddy!" I snapped, as he bumped into me.

"Hiss! Hiss hiss hiss!" Buddy pointed dramatically.

"Shut up, you idiot. We're not here for sightseeing. We're here for the magic metal. Do you even remember what we came for?" I growled.

"Hiss!" Buddy hissed again, his claw pointing even harder toward the mound of treasure.

"Yeah, yeah, the magic metal. Now stop whining and start searching. And for the love of—keep it down."

But of course, it was too late. From the pile of gold, a massive, jagged shape rose up, glowing eyes filled with disdain. A dragon. I froze, locked in its fiery gaze.

I barely had time to look up before its maw opened wide, flames ready to roast me alive.

In an instant, the inferno erupted.

"AAAAAAHHHH!!!" I screamed, barely audible over the firestorm.

Buddy gave a half-hearted hiss, probably considering if this was worth the trouble.

Buddy’s eyes bulged as he watched me disintegrate into a pile of ash. Panicked, the snake dove for cover, slithering into the pile of gold like a coward. The dragon wasn’t amused. Rocky—the Elder dragon—glared at the pathetic, wriggling mess that was Buddy.

Rocky chuckled darkly as he grabbed Buddy by the tail with a single claw, lifting him to eye level. "Where do you think you're going, you tiny worm?" he growled, voice dripping with mockery. "Did you honestly think you could steal from me and just leave?"

Buddy only hissed, his fear palpable, but Rocky wasn't done. He shook Buddy like a chew toy before opening his massive jaws, ready to swallow him whole. I was still reassembling myself in the shadows, every piece of my body coming together in a wave of pain. Once I was whole, I took one look at Rocky about to eat my best friend and snapped.

"Take this, you scaly bastard!" I screamed, summoning a beam of pure white magic. It shot toward the dragon like a laser of vengeance. But... it evaporated instantly on contact with his scales.

Rocky looked at me, unimpressed, as he wiped away the imaginary dust from his shoulder. "Is that the best you can do? Really?" he rumbled. "I’m Rocky Forge, the greatest blacksmith, third-born Elder dragon, and your worst nightmare. Magic? Pfft. Try harder."

Before I could respond, he unleashed another blast of fire. I screamed in agony as my body once again turned to ash. This cycle repeated several times—he would burn me, and I would be reborn, only to burn again. Rocky was having a blast testing my immortality.

Finally, after what felt like the hundredth fiery death, Rocky turned to Vex, pinning him to the ground. "You’re immune to fire but completely useless in combat, huh? Well, maybe you’ll be useful for something else." He stroked his chin thoughtfully, a devious grin spreading across his face.

"I have a plan," Rocky declared, clearly excited. "A little task for you. It involves fire... and magic. And you’re going to help me with it."

I glared at him, despite the growing pit in my stomach. "What kind of task?" I demanded, trying to sound tough even though the dread was sinking in.

Rocky’s smile grew wicked. "A fetch quest," he said, his eyes gleaming with malicious joy.

"NOOOOO! Just kill me! End this!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the cavern walls.

Rocky’s laughter rumbled like a thunderstorm. "Oh, I can definitely do that," he said, sounding far too pleased. "But don’t forget—you’ll just come back to life so I can kill you again. And again. And again. Until you beg me to let you do whatever I want."

A chill ran down my spine. The thought of endless dying was too much. Desperation took over and I raised my hands in defeat. "Okay, okay! I’ll do it! Just... just tell me what you need."

Rocky grinned, satisfaction radiating off him. He pointed to his forge, where a glowing, transparent diamond hovered. It was beautiful... except for the gaping shard missing from its core. My heart sank. Whatever this was, it was going to be a nightmare.

“This crystal is the heart of my forge,” Rocky grumbled, voice thick with pride and resentment. “The princesses of Equestria destroyed it during an attack to stop me from forging weapons. They shattered the crystal, took a chunk, and tossed it into the Minotaur Kingdom. Ever since, my creations have been… meh.”

His eyes darkened, a memory of rage flashing across his face. “I need that shard back. You’ll get it for me, or I’ll keep you alive just to kill you repeatedly. But if you do this, I’ll give you a gift. The kind of power you can’t even dream of.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why not get it yourself? You’re Rocky Forge, right? You can fly, fight, and basically ruin everyone. What’s stopping you?”

Rocky’s nostrils flared, smoke pouring out as he hissed, “They took my wings, idiot. Destroyed them. And they left me for dead. Now I get to destroy them all.”

With a deep sigh, he turned to show me his wings—or, rather, the jagged stone spikes where they used to be. “Do you get it now?”

I nodded. A dragon without wings was a sad sight. “Fine. I’ll get your stupid shard.”

Rocky grinned and handed over a bag. “Here’s a map and some books. You’ll need them. Minotaurs are jerks, and the shard is in a really dangerous place. But if you’re lucky, you’ll survive.”

He tossed me a strange key and smirked. “Use this to come and go. Don’t lose it.”

I grabbed it and took a step back. “Got it. I’ll go now.”

Before I could get far, Rocky’s claw lashed out, slamming into my arm. A fiery symbol burned into my skin, and I yelped in pain. The world spun, and I collapsed to the floor, cursing through gritted teeth.

Rocky chuckled. “Little enslavement seal. Don’t try to double-cross me, or things will get… uncomfortable.”

I tried to stand but collapsed again, feeling the magic flare inside me. Rocky snapped his claws, and the pain shot through my body like a thousand needles. I gasped for air, vision blurring, and felt like I might die.

Buddy, meanwhile, flopped around like a confused sock puppet, his wide eyes locked on me in distress.

When the pain finally subsided, I pushed myself up, sweat dripping from every pore. “Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, dragging Buddy along with me.

We made our way out, the darkness of the cave clinging to me like a bad ex. I gritted my teeth, furious but too weak to do anything about it. Crystallus, you bastard, I thought. He was probably behind all this.

Buddy, looking thoroughly unimpressed, slithered beside me, rolling his eyes. “Don’t blame me for this.”

“Oh, shut up,” I snapped, not in the mood for his sass. “If you'd just used a shield, none of this would've happened.”

Buddy glared at me, about to retort—then froze. “Sssshhhit.”

I blinked. Had Buddy just spoken? I must be losing it. My exhaustion was probably playing tricks on me.

“Great, now I’m hearing things,” I muttered, dragging my feet as Buddy slithered silently beside me, looking more worried than usual. Something was off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

At least it couldn’t get worse, right?

Emerging from the tunnel, I discreetly tucked the branding seal behind my back, feeling Thunderhide's sharp gaze on me. He gave a curt nod as I passed by, still on high alert.

“Follow,” I muttered, irritation barely concealed.

He fell in step beside me, clearly awestruck as we approached the ancient Geode Passage—an archway covered in glowing runes pulsing with soft blue light. My claw gripped the triangular stone in my hand, its central rune matching the arch's glow. I glanced at Thunderhide.

“What do you know about Fort Rapture?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as Buddy coiled around my waist like an overprotective snake.

Thunderhide scratched his head, deep in thought. “Used to be home to a general who served the king. Not much else. His bulls were loyal, though.”

“The fall?” I pressed.

His eyes widened. “You don’t know about the Minotaur kingdom?”

I blinked. “Nope. Enlighten me.”

Thunderhide sighed. “It was already a mess before the Crystal Wars. The clans started fighting, the king lost his bulls, and eventually, his whole kingdom fell. All that’s left are abandoned fortresses.”

I smirked. A kingdom of ruined fortresses? Perfect for what I had in mind. “Sounds like a gold mine. What’s the crime scene like?”

“Surprisingly orderly in some areas,” Thunderhide replied. “The clans handle it. Outside of that? Bandits, mercs, and wild animals. And the clan wars left a bunch of military gear for scavengers.”

That got my attention. Minotaurs, bandits, and tech? Perfect breeding ground for my next experiment.

“There’s also the griffin issue,” Thunderhide added casually, making me pause.

I turned. “Griffin problem?”

He rubbed his neck. “Yeah. Been at odds with minotaurs for centuries. Even the gods fought over it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Gods?”

Thunderhide leaned in, lowering his voice. “Legend says two brothers—one a minotaur, the other a griffin—defeated a god and took his divinity. The brothers, Devramar and Devakar, became gods of Honor and Conquest. Naturally, they fought constantly. One day, Devakar led a griffin invasion, and Devramar flattened mountains on top of him.”

I frowned, suddenly uneasy. Gods of Honor and Conquest? Yeah, I was pretty sure I didn't want to mess with that. “Is there any hope for peace?”

“Not likely,” Thunderhide grunted. “Grievances run deep. Some say if Devakar wakes up, the whole cycle of war starts again.”

Wonderful. An ancient god of war sleeping peacefully beneath the mountains... for now. “Thanks for the info,” I muttered, eyeing the intensifying blue light from the arch. “Looks like the gateway’s ready.”

Thunderhide nodded. “It’s lit up like a bonfire in the middle of the desert.”

I gave him a confused look, but before I could respond, a high-pitched scream cut through the air.

“Aaaaaahhhhhh!”

I squinted, hearing the faint cry grow louder. “Sounds like a little girl…” I muttered, brushing it off. “Not our problem.”

“AAAAAAAAAHHH! Captain! Wait for me!” A frantic voice shrieked.

I turned around, eyes widening as a figure barreled toward us, kicking up dust with every step. A jester hat bouncing wildly.

“Jinx?” I shouted, just before he collided with me, sending me stumbling backward. “Jesus, man, what the hell?”

Jinx, wide-eyed and panicked, slapped his hoof over my mouth. “No time! Portal! NOW!”

Before I could respond, a golden needle shot past his head and embedded itself in my chest. The mechanical screech that followed was enough to make my skin crawl.

Then, I saw it. A red dot. A golden, boxy robotic arm emerged from the darkness, its red eye zeroing in on us.

“Time to go!” I yanked Jinx and Thunderhide through the portal just as a red bolt of magic nearly hit us. The portal flickered out, sealing behind us.

We tumbled out the other side in a jumbled heap, limbs everywhere. I teleported out of the mess with a pop of white magic, rolling my eyes as Jinx and Thunderhide scrambled like idiots.

The surroundings were dramatic as hell. We were surrounded by towering rocks, jagged peaks disappearing into the clouds. The early morning light bathed everything in a surreal glow. In the distance, abandoned war remnants dotted the landscape, with gleaming white structures atop distant mountains.

“Well, we made it. Barely,” I muttered.

“Griffins, Minotaurs, robots, gods of war… What else can go wrong?”

The exit, hidden beneath vines and bushes, beckoned. I slipped through effortlessly, my body morphing into smoke as I passed. On the other side, a dirt road stretched out before me, and a wooden sign stood ominously: Welcome to the Land of the Bull. Beware of the Horns.

“Charming,” I muttered, eyeing the sign.

After the claustrophobic cave, the peaceful air was almost too quiet, but I stayed alert. As I surveyed the fields, the faint sound of hooves echoed through the air. The scent that followed reminded me of something unpleasant—and I fought to suppress a wince, covering my nose and turning away from the group.

Jinx, always the talker, grinned. “Looks like your magic rock dropped us right on the doorstep of this delightful dump. No offense, Thunderhide.”

Thunderhide shrugged, unbothered. “Dump’s harsh. Accurate, but harsh.”

“Regardless, this is where the real work begins.” I gestured to the fortresses across the mountains. “Strategic location. Perfect.”

I turned back to Jinx, who was now balancing a shadow bomb on his nose. I cleared my throat, catching his attention.

“By the way, Jinx,” I said sweetly, then turned on him with a fierce glare. “What the hell was chasing you back there?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb! I mean the golden robo-bitch!”

Jinx leaned back, grinning. “Oh, that? Just a little something I picked up on my travels.”

“And what the hell was it?” I snapped, irritation boiling over.

“Beats me,” Jinx said with a shrug.

I clenched my fists, barely keeping it together. Then, without warning, I shot a magic blast into the distance. It hit a mountain, causing a massive avalanche to crash down. Jinx and Thunderhide froze, clearly wary.

Buddy, who’d been clinging to my waist, unwound himself. His cool presence calmed me instantly. I ran a hand through my smoky hair, forcing a controlled breath. Turning to them, I spoke in a frigid tone.

“Here’s the plan. I want power, and those ponies are in my way. So, we take one of those fortresses, make it our base, and then…” I conjured a shadow ball, its glowing eyes piercing through the dark. “We build an army.”

I crushed the ball in my hand, snuffing out its light. Thunderhide flinched, and Jinx chuckled nervously.

“It’s perfect here—no one’s going to snitch. Phase 1: take the fort. Phase 2… we’ll get there when we do.”

I glanced down at the fire rune on my wrist, its faint glow mocking me. Under my breath, I muttered, “No one—not even gods—will stop me.”

Evergore lounged in his lavish chamber, surrounded by oak furniture that screamed "I have too much money." His king-sized bed, draped in red and gold, was practically begging for attention, but he was too busy watching the footage of his MK 3 Golem slicing through the Diamond Dogs with robotic efficiency.

Goldiethine had unleashed the golem after learning the dogs were swimming in dark magic, and the execution was flawless. Too flawless. He frowned, rewinding the footage. "Why were they running?!" Evergore grumbled. The Diamond Dog pack had bailed before the golem even got started. His target had escaped through some fancy Geode Passage, totally blocking his magical tracking. But at least the golem tagged him with a dart—too bad the dart was now far beyond Equestria’s borders. Well, it was something.

Despite the minor setback, Evergore was in a great mood. The raid had netted him everything but the kitchen sink—slaves, dark magic warriors, and shiny assets begging to be exploited. The MK 3 was his crowning achievement: sleek, agile, and ready to navigate urban environments. It was perfect for VIP protection or turning city streets into a hellscape of metal and destruction. Meanwhile, his Crystal Towers project was coming along nicely. Everything was falling into place for his rise to power.

His eyes drifted to the newspaper on his desk: "Grand Galloping Gala Returns After 500 Years!" A sly grin spread across his face. The headlines were gold: House Dawnbreaker’s dayguards were the toast of the town, while House Nocturna was taking heat for bungling Luna’s absence. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Everything was aligning. The raid, the Golem, the intelligence—soon, Evergore would strike with precision. No one would see it coming.

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here with an Author's Note. It was good to finish up with the Cave stuff, and now it's time to move on to the land of the bull!

Here's some character art:

RockyForge:

MK 3:

Jinx:

Tunderhide:

Chapter 11: A walk and a Skip - (StrongHorn Dominion)

The mid-afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the rocky cliff where we’d set up camp. It was the perfect spot—great view, hard to spot us, and quiet enough to think. I leaned against a boulder, half in shadow, enjoying the rare moment of calm. Of course, it wouldn’t last.

Thunderhide sat nearby, sharpening his massive Axe with a stone that looked comically small in his giant hands. The rhythmic scrape was oddly soothing. Meanwhile, Jinx, our resident disaster-prone unicorn, snored in the dirt, his jester hat askew. His hind leg twitched, probably dreaming about chaos—his specialty.

“You know,” I said, smirking, “Jinx might be the only unicorn in existence that snores.”

Thunderhide didn’t look up. “He’s the only one annoying enough to make it an art form.”

“Useful, though,” I said, thinking of his knack for explosives.

Thunderhide grunted. “Useful doesn’t mean tolerable.”

Jinx snorted awake, flailing. “What? Attack? Who?!”

“No one,” I said dryly. “Unless boredom’s declaring war.”

“Oh,” Jinx mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I was dreaming about… carnival games. And exploding cotton candy.”

Thunderhide barked a laugh. “Even your dreams are chaos, Jinx.”

Jinx rummaged through his bag, emerging with a half-eaten apple. “So, what’s the plan? Nap all day or do something exciting?”

I stood, stretching. “We move at sundown. Darkness favors us.”

Jinx nodded, mouth full of apple, while Thunderhide returned to his Axe. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows.

As I stared out at the road below, anticipation sparked. Tonight, we’d strike, and this land—its fortresses, grudges, and all—would be ours.

The void swallowed me whole, but as always, it spat me out into the familiar eerie blue of the mindscape. Mist coiled like lazy snakes around my legs, a surreal backdrop to my subconscious playground. I wasn’t sure if this place was a sanctuary or a prison, but either way, rent was free.

Shapes emerged from the swirling fog—half-formed memories, regrets, and the occasional awkward dance move I’d rather forget. Classic mindscape nonsense. Then the mist rippled, and a shadowy snake slithered up, its glowing white eyes staring me down with all the menace of a debt collector.

“Vex…” it hissed, voice like nails on a chalkboard. “You toy with powers beyond your grasp.”

I crossed my arms, unimpressed. “Buddy, since when do you talk? And why do you sound like a rejected Bond villain?”

Buddy glared. “I’ve always been capable of speech. My current… predicament just limits it to this realm.” He paused dramatically. “And I need your help.”

“Of course you do,” I muttered. “What’s the deal?”

“The fortress you’re targeting holds Arachnia,” he said, his form pulsing like a moody lava lamp. “She’s an old ally—smart, dangerous, and mildly homicidal. She can fix my... physical issues and assist with a project.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Arachnia? Sounds like a rejected Marvel villain.”

“Focus, Vex,” Buddy snapped. “Get her on board. First, she’ll help me regain a sustainable form—this misty nonsense is exhausting. Then, we’ll finish the project.”

“And what’s this project?” I pressed.

Buddy’s glowing eyes dimmed slightly, like a flashlight on dying batteries. “You’ll find out. Later. Don’t overthink it.”

“Fine, I’ll grab your spider-friend,” I sighed, waving him off. “Anything else, O Shadowy One?”

“nope,” Buddy said flatly, his form flickering.

The mist swirled violently, and Buddy dissolved into the void with a final, “Good luck, Robert.”

I jolted awake, heart pounding as reality slammed back into me. A loud roar cut through the air outside the tent, followed by Thunderhide’s gruff voice.

“Jinx! Stop blowing up the cooking pot!”

Yep. Back to reality. I already missed the snake.

A deafening roar shattered the air, jolting me upright. Thunderhide was already on his feet, sword in hand, his usually calm face now set in grim determination. Jinx, for once, looked genuinely terrified, his jester hat askew as he scrambled to stand, his hooves slipping like a newborn deer.

"What in all the chaos gods’ names was that?!" Jinx yelped, his voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear.

I didn’t reply. My attention was locked on the treeline, where something massive was bulldozing through the underbrush. The ground trembled with every step, each crash louder and closer. Another roar split the air, this one deep and guttural. Even Thunderhide, unflappable as ever, muttered a low curse.

From our perch on the cliff, the scene below unfolded in chaotic glory. A pack of Minotaurs, riding massive Tusked Grizzlies, barreled through the forest like nature’s worst nightmare. Their spears gleamed menacingly as one rider urged his beast toward a battered chariot.

The Grizzly rammed the chariot with tusks the size of tree trunks, and the result was pure carnage. Wood and metal flew everywhere as the chariot spiraled toward the cliff’s edge, finally plummeting with a satisfying crash.

Thunderhide raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in a faint smirk. “Well, that’s one way to settle a dispute.”

Jinx peeked out from behind him, eyes wide. “Holy hell, did you see that? Those Minotaurs just played catch with a chariot! And the cliff won!”

Despite myself, I chuckled. “Remind me never to piss off anything with tusks.”

The chariot wobbled precariously on the edge before its driver—a hapless earth pony—was flung out like a sack of potatoes. He hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud. Thunderhide’s eyes narrowed, his tone flat. “Rough way to go. Still, might be something worth salvaging.”

Before I could reply, the Grizzly made sure the pony stayed down, its massive paws doing the kind of work no mortician could fix. Jinx let out a nervous laugh. “Not exactly my kind of entertainment, but hey, lesson learned—don’t mess with nature’s bulldozers.”

The chariot finally tipped over, spinning off the cliff like it was auditioning for a stunt reel. It smashed into the rocks below, debris flying everywhere in spectacular fashion. Thunderhide gave a low whistle. “Efficient. If we’re looting, let’s do it before the Minotaurs come back for a victory lap.”

Jinx, wide-eyed and jittery, nodded. “Yeah, uh, great plan. Love a little treasure hunt—just maybe without the homicidal cows this time!”

The Minotaurs retreated, their grizzlies lumbering off into the distance. I watched the wreckage below, smirking. “Alright, treasure hunt time. Keep your eyes open—we don’t want more Minotaur drama.”

Grabbing Thunderhide and Jinx, I leapt off the cliff, wings beating against the rushing wind. We landed near the chariot’s remains, now a chaotic pile of shattered wood and twisted metal blocking the road. Thunderhide immediately began tossing debris aside like it owed him money. “This thing’s a wreck, but there’s gotta be something worth grabbing.”

Jinx, already rummaging through the mess, snorted. “Treasure hunting? More like broke scavenging. If I find gold, it’s mine!”

While they dug, I kept watch. “Stay sharp. Those Minotaurs could come back, and I’m not interested in round two.”

“Doubt it,” Thunderhide muttered, shoving aside a chunk of chariot. “They’re probably too busy throwing a victory party.”

Jinx perked up, yanking open a hidden compartment. “Bingo! Got some bits, boring trade documents, and... ooh, a note!” He passed it to me, and I read aloud:

*"Dear Fortune,
Time to prove yourself! Handle these border deals and make the family proud. Don’t screw this up.
-Your Father, Lucky Hoof"*

I glanced at the corpse of said “Fortune,” lying crumpled like yesterday’s trash. An idea sparked—dark, clever, and utterly me. “This guy’s our ticket inside Equestria,” I said, grinning.

Jinx blinked. “Wait... you’re gonna—”

I didn’t answer. Instead, dark tendrils shot from my hands, wrapping around the corpse. An incantation later, and the dead noble jerked upright, his eyes glowing an eerie white.

“Behold,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “Fortune Hoof, loyal spy and undead lackey extraordinaire!”

Jinx and Thunderhide exchanged looks. “You’ve got issues,” Jinx muttered.

The thrall groaned, its glowing eyes dimming. “I... remember. I’m Vex. And Lucky Hoof. This is weird.”

“Can you handle this?” I asked, arms crossed.

The thrall nodded. “Yeah, just gotta get used to... everything.”

“And the sword?”

“Oh, yeah.” The undead shuffled off to retrieve it.

Thunderhide frowned. “You sure leaving an undead noble to wander off isn’t gonna backfire?”

I shrugged, smirking. “If it does, we’ll just kill him again.”

Jinx grinned, tossing a coin and catching it mid-air. “but Why leave the thrall behind? Isn't it part of whatever plan you got.”

I smirked, stepping forward. “This isn’t just any undead—it’s Lucky Hoof’s memories, personality, and me crammed into one body. A clone of yours truly, armed and ready. It'll know exactly what to do.”

The conversation shifted as the sun dipped lower, painting the path in shadows. “Where can we crash for the night?” I asked.

Thunderhide pointed ahead. “Keep going until we hit 146. There’s a place called The Wanderer’s Haven. Cheap, reliable, no rats bigger than your foot.”

“Comforting,” Jinx muttered, raising an eyebrow.

True to Thunderhide’s word, the fortress town loomed closer, its battered walls baring the scars of countless skirmishes. At the gate, two armored minotaurs blocked our path, their hulking forms exuding an air of ‘pay up or leave.’

“Entry’s ten gold each,” one grunted, his voice muffled behind his helmet.

Thunderhide slapped down the gold without breaking stride. “Done. Keep the change.”

The minotaurs blinked. “There’s no change—”

“We’re done here,” Thunderhide cut them off, leading us inside as the gates creaked open.

The fortress was alive—merchants hawked wares, travelers bartered, and guards patrolled with an enthusiasm that said, Make trouble. We dare you.

Jinx darted ahead, laughing as he juggled some overpriced baubles he’d undoubtedly charmed out of a vendor. “This place is delightful! Like a market with extra rules and bigger fists!”

Turning to Thunderhide, I kept my voice low. “Rules. Spill them.”

“No stealing, no brawling, no curfew-breaking,” he rumbled. “Guards’ll bash your head in first and ask questions never.”

“And the merchants?” I asked, watching Jinx balance a dagger on his nose.

“Trade’s sacred. Pay fair, or they’ll have your hide faster than you can blink.”

“And curfew?”

“Midnight. Streets after that? You’ll be wishing for death—or worse, paperwork.”

“Noted,” I muttered, glancing back at Jinx. He was now juggling flaming baubles. Oh yes, this was going to end brilliantly.

As Thunderhide wrapped up his spiel about the fortress rules, Jinx trotted up, his hooves clicking against the stone, his mane bouncing with each step, and his saddlebags weighed down with odd trinkets. He flashed a grin that could only mean trouble.

“All good, Vex?” he asked, flicking his tail and tossing a playful wink my way.

“Yeah,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Thunderhide’s just making sure we don’t burn the place down or steal any more horses.”

Jinx’s grin only widened. “Good to know. I’ve been… busy. Picked up a few things.” He gestured to his bags, then pulled out a sparkling bauble with a flourish. “Let’s relax tonight. We’ve got time to ruin lives tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even though the idea of relaxing was a joke. But with Jinx’s energy, it was hard not to feel a glimmer of hope, no matter how ridiculous. Our plan was set, and a night’s rest might just be the thing that kept us from dying before we could execute it.

As we made our way through the crowded marketplace, Jinx pranced around like a hyperactive foal, inspecting anything that glittered. His sharp eyes suddenly turned to me, and for a moment, I saw something almost... serious in those big, innocent eyes.

“Hey, Vex,” he asked, his voice unusually thoughtful, “how’d you just stroll in here without the guards throwing you out? You don’t exactly have ‘trustworthy traveler’ written all over you.”

I blinked, caught off guard. It was a solid question.

Thunderhide grinned and shrugged, his voice as gruff as always. “Gold’s good enough. Guards here care about getting their pay, not who walks through the door.”

Jinx snorted, clearly pleased with the answer. “Money over morals? I can get behind that.”

“Just keep your hooves clean,” Thunderhide warned. “We don’t need any trouble, especially not from the guards.”

Jinx flicked his tail, looking completely unbothered. “Trouble’s my middle name, but for you, Thunderhide, I’ll behave. Tonight, anyway.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“I never make regrets, Vex,” Jinx said with a wink, tucking his shiny new toys back into his saddlebag, before prancing toward the inn. “Let’s go get a drink and enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

As we neared The Wanderer’s Haven, it looked less like an inn and more like a fortress that had survived a few too many storms—and possibly a few bar brawls. The place was a hodgepodge of heavy timber beams, rough stone walls, and a thatched roof that looked like it had seen better days, probably decades ago. Wooden spikes jutted out from the roof, resembling tusks, and the large iron sign above the door swayed ominously, as if daring you to enter.

The doors were thick, reinforced with iron, and seemed designed to withstand either a battering ram or an angry drunk. Two torches flanked the entrance, their flames casting long shadows on the ground, adding to the place’s menacing charm. From inside, the sounds of raucous laughter and the scent of roasting meat mixed with something... less savory.

Jinx trotted ahead, his hooves clacking on the cobblestones, looking unfazed. “I love the ambiance. It’s like they’re begging for trouble.”

Thunderhide grunted, his gaze scanning the place. “This is a no-nonsense spot. Doesn’t get more real than this.”

The windows were small, barred, and more for defense than decoration, but the warm light spilling out made it seem like maybe—just maybe—the inside wasn’t completely terrifying. The banner above the door was crudely painted with a snarling beast's head. Nothing says "hospitality" like a wild animal’s face.

We approached the door, the stone path beneath my feet worn by the countless wanderers before us, and I could feel the history of the place in every step. The Wanderer’s Haven was a den for tough customers, the kind of place where only the strong survived—and the weak probably got thrown out the window.

I exchanged a look with Thunderhide and Jinx. We were about to step into a space that demanded respect... or at least a good punch to the face if you stepped out of line.

With a creak, we pushed open the doors, and the air inside hit us like a punch. Warm, smoky, and full of the kind of smells that made you question your life choices. The low ceiling was supported by thick beams, and the walls were lined with trophies—antlers, pelts, and a few skulls of beasts that looked like they’d fought back. It wasn’t pretty, but it sure was real.

I shot a look at Jinx, who was already eyeing a half-empty mug of something questionable. “Well,” I muttered, “it’s definitely... authentic.”

Jinx grinned, flicking his tail. “I think we’ve found our people.”

The room buzzed with energy, the air thick with the sounds of laughter, clinking mugs, and the lively strumming of a Minotaur’s guitar. A pony skillfully played the flute, adding a high-pitched melody that contrasted with the deep rhythm of the guitar. Patrons were scattered everywhere—some eating, some gambling, some arguing over dice like their lives depended on it.

We stepped inside, and the crowd’s attention shifted to us. Most just glanced for a moment, curiosity piqued by new blood. But a few stares lingered on me—shadowy, dark magic crackling around me like an obnoxious aura. I caught some murmurs, but no one dared stare too long. This place was no stranger to weirdos, but even here, I was an oddity.

Thunderhide bulldozed through the crowd, parting it like it was made of wet tissue paper, while Jinx trailed behind, his eyes darting around like he was looking for trouble—or maybe creating it.

We reached the back of the room, where a corner table sat, nearly hidden in the gloom. Thunderhide slumped into the chair like he owned the place, while I took my seat, welcoming the shadows that swallowed me whole. The firelight barely reached us, which was perfect. The prying eyes that followed us initially were already distracted by the chaos around them. Or maybe they were just scared to get too close.

Thunderhide, ever the professional, leaned back, scanning the room with a glance that said, I’ve seen worse. “This’ll work,” he grunted. “We can talk here without being bothered.”

Jinx, on the other hand, looked like he might start a bar fight just for fun. “I gotta admit, this place has character,” he said, grinning. “Like, a whole lot of character.”

I nodded, glancing around. “It’ll do. But don’t let your guard down. We might be safe for now, but don’t tempt fate.”

Jinx just shrugged, too busy eyeing a half-drunk patron to care. Meanwhile, Thunderhide flagged down the bartender—a burly Earth pony with a scar that could tell stories of its own. The server took our orders with the speed and efficiency of someone who’d seen it all.

As we settled in, the music played on, but beneath the festive noise, there was a certain something in the air. Everyone here had their own agenda. And, frankly, so did we.

The noise faded into the background as I reached into my cloak and pulled out a weathered bag—Iron Forge’s parting gift. As soon as I set it on the table, I felt the familiar heat of the fiery seal on my wrist flare up. Rage surged through me, a wave of memories tied to that damn brand.

But I couldn’t lose it here. Not now. I forced the anger down, letting the shadows thicken around me, hiding the glowing mark. It wasn’t the time to let my past get in the way. We had a mission, and there was no room for old grudges—no matter how much I wanted to punch something.

And if I did lose it? Well, let’s just say this place was full of character... and I wasn’t the only one with something to hide.

I took a breath, forcing my anger back down, and pulled the map from the bag Iron Forge had given me. The old parchment was frayed at the edges, but the details were still sharp enough to cut through the tension. I slapped it down in front of Thunderhide and Jinx.

“This is the fortress layout,” I muttered, voice steady despite the chaos brewing in my head. The map was practically screaming we’re getting in, with marked guard towers, the main gate, and—most importantly—entry points that weren’t as well-guarded at night.

Thunderhide leaned in, scanning the map with a grunt. “Looks good,” he muttered, tracing a path on the paper. “We hit the western wall, fewer guards. Time it right, and we’re inside before they even know we’re there.”

Jinx, finally focusing, squinted at the map. “And once we’re in?” he asked. “What’s the play?”

I pointed to the commander’s quarters in the center of the fortress. “We take out the leader. Chaos follows. Then we hold the tower and funnel the rest of them into a nice, neat trap.”

Thunderhide grinned. “Risky, but it’s our best shot. Once we’re in, we use the fortress as a stronghold. Start our empire.”

Jinx grinned back, already planning his next meal. “Sounds like a plan! When do we go?”

I met their gazes, steely-eyed. “We rest tonight. At first light, we strike.”

Thunderhide gave a decisive nod. “A well-deserved break. Then we kick some ass.”

The server dropped off our food: three tankards of ale, liver and onions for me, hearty pork for Thunderhide, and a hayburger with grapes for Jinx. I stayed sober, watching them dive in like animals.

Thunderhide took a long gulp of ale, licking his lips. “This pork... it’s so tender, it’s begging for a second life!” He dug in with the enthusiasm of a starving man.

Meanwhile, Jinx, already tipsy, mashed grapes into his hayburger. “Gourmet, right here. You haven’t lived until you’ve had the fruit-hayburger fusion!” he declared, wobbling a little.

As the ale flowed, Thunderhide raised his tankard. “Here’s to the finest meal in the land, and to the genius who thought mashed potatoes should be served with everything!” He nearly spilled it as he clinked his mug.

Jinx, swaying, added, “I’d raise a toast, but I’m busy perfecting my grape-burger masterpiece!”

As they drank and laughed, Thunderhide got redder in the face, and Jinx, with a lopsided grin, declared, “What’s missing in this hayburger? A deluge of grape juice!” He poured it on like it was champagne, biting in with gusto.

Thunderhide howled with laughter. “You’re a genius, Jinx—or just drunk. Either way, this ale makes me feel like I could take on a dragon with my bare hands!”

Jinx, nearly falling out of his chair, grinned. “A dragon? Please, I’ll charm it with my grape-hayburger weapon!”

Thunderhide raised his tankard again. “To Jinx and his unbeatable grape-hayburger, and the day we find out if dragons have a sweet tooth!”

The night descended into madness, with Thunderhide flailing around trying to wrestle an invisible dragon, while Jinx "communicated" with non-existent creatures via grape telepathy.

I just watched, amused and sober, thankful for the chaos that kept them occupied.

Suddenly, a Minotaur server climbed up on a crate, bellowing over the ruckus. “Alright, everyone! Time to sing! Dust off those vocal cords! Let’s turn this tavern into a concert hall!”

The tavern erupted in cheers, tankards clinking, and everyone brimming with anticipation. Even I couldn’t help but smirk at Thunderhide and Jinx, now flushed and ready to dive into the musical madness. They were infectious.

Sitting back in my corner, I prepared for the chaos about to unfold.

The old Minotaur raised his tankard, his deep voice rumbling through the tavern:

“I was a miner once, digging deep for gold,
But I found a keg instead, now I’m growing old.
My pick’s a tankard now, my helmet’s just a hat,
I trade jewels for pints, and that’s where I’m at!”

The crowd cheered, mugs raised. The Minotaur continued, louder now:

“Raise your mugs, let’s cheer, for we’ve all got a tale,
From royalty to rogues, we’re all doomed to fail.
But we drink, we laugh, as our stories unfold,
In this rickety tavern, our lives are worth gold!”

Next, a griffon in barrel armor took the stage, voice booming with pride:

“I was a warrior, fierce with sword and shield,
But now I’m stuck in a field, my armor’s just a barrel.
My steed’s a wooden chair, I conquer ale and laughter—
With a hearty flair, and a belly full of disaster!”

The crowd cheered again, raising their mugs. He finished with:

“Raise your mugs, let’s cheer, for we’ve all got a tale,
From noble to bard, we’ve all hit the ale.
But we drink, we laugh, as our stories unfold,
In this jolly old tavern, our lives are worth gold!”

A batpony, cloaked in rags, limped to the front with a spoon raised high:

“I was a rogue, stealthy and bold,
But now I’m a bard, with stories old.
My dagger’s a spoon, my cloak’s a rag,
I steal from the feast, and dance with a brag!”

The crowd roared with laughter as she sang:

“Raise your mugs, let’s cheer, for we’ve all got a tale,
From mage to thief, we’ve all faced a fail.
But we drink, we laugh, as our stories unfold,
In this boisterous tavern, our lives are worth gold!”

I leaned back, ready to join in. With a smirk, I grabbed the crowd’s attention:

“Oh, Mom took a tumble, dark as night,
A dog had a snack, gave her quite a fright!
She hit the ground, limp and slack,
And the kid just sighed, ‘Mom’s not coming back!’”

The crowd went wild, but Jinx, already tipsy, bounced in his seat, raising his hooves dramatically:

“I was a jester for a mad king, full of cheer,
But got tossed out—now I’m free, no fear!
I cause chaos, make trouble with flair,
From courts to the streets, disaster’s in the air!”

The crowd joined in the chorus:

“Raise your mugs, let’s cheer, for we’ve all got a tale,
From noble to bard, we’ve all hit the ale.
But we drink, we laugh, as our stories unfold,
In this jolly old tavern, our lives are worth gold!”

Thunderhide, laughing like a thunderstorm, raised his tankard:

“I was a young bull, chasing fame and glory,
But now I’m just looking for a different story.
Down on luck, with glory so small,
Just looking for any bit of glory at all!”

The crowd roared in unison:

“Raise your mugs, let’s cheer, for we’ve all got a tale,
From mage to thief, we’ve all had a fail.
But we drink, we laugh, as our stories unfold,
In this boisterous tavern, our lives are worth gold!”

The tavern erupted, the Minotaur’s booming voice and Thunderhide’s laughter blending in harmony. Jinx, completely sloshed, was too busy experimenting with his food to care, shoving grapes into his hayburger and laughing manically.

It was a chaotic, drunken mess—but damn, it was the best kind of night.

The tavern's laughter and music roared, but I slipped through the crowd like a shadow. At the bar, the burly Earth pony server barely looked up as I approached.

“Room for three,” I said, voice cool over the chaos.

He eyed me for a moment before nodding. “End of the hall, Room 7. It’s quieter there.”

I slid a pouch of coins across the counter. He grunted, accepting it, and handed me a key.

I returned to the table where Thunderhide and Jinx were in the middle of belting out a sea shanty, their voices blending with the drunken chorus. I waited for a break in their singing.

“Thunderhide, Jinx,” I called. “I’ve secured a room for the night. Big day tomorrow.”

Thunderhide, barely able to stop grinning, raised his tankard. “Aye! Sleep, then kill. Lead the way!”

Jinx, his grin still as wide, slurred, “Room sounds great. Let’s crash so we can tackle the fortress tomorrow.”

I guided them up the stairs to the second floor, where the wooden floors creaked beneath our feet. At Room 7, I unlocked the door, revealing a basic but tidy space. A large bed, a table, and a couple of chairs—nothing fancy, but it worked.

Thunderhide collapsed on the bed with a sigh. “Good choice,” he muttered, stretching out like a lazy cat.

Jinx immediately grabbed a chair and plopped it next to the window, eyes gleaming. “Perfect. Now, let’s sleep off this booze and wake up ready to kick ass.”

I watched them settle in, my lips twitching into a small smile despite the weight of the mission ahead. With a final glance at the door, I shut it, letting the tavern’s noise fade into silence. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

The wreckage of the chariot lay scattered across the darkened landscape, moonlight casting an eerie glow over the bodies of three Minotaurs and their dead Tusked Grizzlies. My shirt was torn, my body bruised, but the real weight came from the bloodied sword in my hand and the grim silence surrounding me.

“Seriously? You assholes left me here to clean up?” I shouted into the night, my voice bouncing off the emptiness. The only reply was the wind, the rustling leaves, and a distant owl probably judging me.

I slumped, letting out a frustrated sigh as I glanced at the carnage. “This... this is my life now? Fight, kill, get left behind. Great.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to shake off the headache creeping up. “Am I even following my plan or someone else's? It's all a damn blur...”

I stared at the bloodstains, chewing over the thought. “This plan better work...”

With an exhausted grunt, I pushed myself to my hooves, clutching the sword like it was the only thing keeping me alive. I trudged down the path, gravel crunching beneath me, each step dragging my soul further into the abyss of regret and pain.

As I passed a fallen Minotaur, I knelt beside it, feeling like a grim detective searching for clues. My hoof trembled as I found a blood-soaked map, a red circle marking a guard station. “Well, at least something’s useful,” I muttered, tucking the map into my pocket.

My body screamed for rest, but the mission wasn’t over. I had to move. The sword felt heavier with every step, but I forced myself onward, the sound of my hooves the only company in the silence.

“Alright, guard station, here I come,” I muttered to the stars, feeling tiny and alone but still driven by whatever sick sense of purpose kept me going.

One last mission. Hopefully, no more Minotaurs... or at least fewer of them.

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here with another chapter! This one is a bit more laid-back compared to the previous ones. After everything that happened in the caves, I thought it was best to give the story some downtime before moving on to the fort. Don’t worry, though—the story will be shifting to more villainous things soon enough. Until then, enjoy the read and have a good day!

Concept art:

Minotaur guard:

Chapter 12: The Siege of Fort Rapture - (StrongHorn Dominion)

Hell of a name for a Minotaur stronghold, right? Made it sound like a vacation spot, but all I saw was crumbling walls, trolls, and enough crossbows to turn me into a pincushion.

I crouched in the trees, hand on my knee, watching patrols march around like clockwork. Sleep? Haven’t had it in days, but who needs it when the darkness is your best buddy? Tonight, it hugged me tight—half a comfort, half a warning.

Could I kill them all? Sure. The dark magic humming in my head sure thought so. Do it, it whispered. I snorted. “Yeah, great idea, brain. Let’s see how that pans out.” Last time I went full impulsive, I turned a village visit into a bonfire. Let’s just say the ponies aren’t sending me Christmas cards anymore.

The courtyard’s ritual circle glowed faintly, full of ominous runes that screamed bad news. Not my problem—yet. My job tonight? Scout, sabotage, survive. Preferably in that order.

I pressed my hand to the dirt, summoning a shadow beast. It rose beside me, featureless and silent, and slipped off toward the fort. Watching it creep through the darkness, I felt that little spark of satisfaction. Subtlety was my jam—when I wasn’t blowing things up, of course.

The beast reached the glowing circle, poking at it. No alarms, no flashy explosions. Good. That meant it wasn’t active. For now.

Movement pulled my focus—a pair of trolls lumbering through the trees, big and ugly as sin. My magic flared, shadows writhing around me, begging for action. Not yet, I told myself. The last thing I needed was to go full murder-hobo and blow the whole operation.

I shaped the shadows into a new beast, a twisted blend of nature’s worst nightmares: crab legs, dragonfly wings, and mantis claws. A single glowing eye on its black body added a nice creepy touch. I sent it skyward to scout, its wings buzzing faintly. From its perch atop the tallest tower, I saw the fort in all its dilapidated glory. Collapsed walls, a dried-up moat, and a big-ass troll guarding the gate. Great.

Time to get creative.

Back in the ruins of an old temple, I worked my magic, literally. Shadows twisted into sleek, venomous swarmers and hulking brutes with ram horns and bone-crushing jaws. The swarmers would drive the trolls mad, while the big boys would handle the smashing. Efficient and brutal—my kind of strategy.

I sent the swarmers out to gather weapons from the battlefield debris outside. No reason my shadow army couldn’t be armed to the teeth. Meanwhile, I scouted weak points: a water channel along the wall, ready to be exploited, and a collapsed temple that made the perfect staging ground for my assault.

The trolls wouldn’t know what hit them. Neither would the Minotaurs.

As I watched my shadow beast buzz over the courtyard, catching glimpses of their glowing ritual circle, I felt the pull of the shard I came to steal. Oh, and I couldn’t forget about the deal I made with the dragon.

“Why is everything always my problem?” I muttered, smirking despite myself.

This wasn’t going to be pretty. It wasn’t going to be clean. But it sure as hell was going to be fun.

“Alright, Rapture,” I whispered. “Let’s dance.”

The morning mist clung to the cliffs as we watched Fort Rapture below, its defenses unaware of the storm about to strike. My shadow creature—a Swarmer—fluttered to my hand, its wings pulsing with dark energy.

Thunderhide sipped his coffee, adjusting the steel plates on his massive Minotaur frame. His war axe rested casually on his shoulder. “So, just us and your creepy shadow pets?” he rumbled.

“That’s all we need,” I replied, feeling the dark magic surge within me. My shadow forces were hidden in cracks and ruins, waiting to unleash chaos: hulking warriors, Swarmer scouts, and nightmare creatures poised to strike.

Jinx, tinkering with an explosive, grinned. “Ready when you are.”

I raised my hand, a glowing sigil forming. Shadows erupted, and the assault began. My creatures surged from the darkness, tearing into the Minotaur defenders with savage precision. Above, Swarmers descended on the trolls, injecting them with rage-filled venom that turned them into berserk engines of destruction.

Thunderhide roared into battle, cleaving through guards, while Jinx’s bombs shattered defenses. The gate crumbled in a storm of blood and chaos, the trolls smashing anything in their path. Amidst the carnage, I melted into shadow, striking from the darkness and binding enemies with tendrils of magic.

Then, a horn blasted. From the smoke emerged a colossal mountain troll, bound by chains and flanked by hooded Minotaurs. Fire arrows rained down from above, igniting flames that seared through my magic and sent my creatures into a premature attack. The troll roared, crushing everything nearby in a blind frenzy.

Thunderhide charged. “I’ve got the troll!” he bellowed, axe swinging in brutal arcs. Jinx leapt into action, tossing bombs at the archers while I trapped them in shadow tendrils. The fortress erupted into chaos—explosions, blood, and smoke filling the air.

Thunderhide’s strikes weakened the troll, while Jinx’s bombs cleared the walls. My magic surged back, fueling the attack. “Keep pushing!” I yelled, as the defenders crumbled under our assault.

The shadows tightened around the archway as I willed the gate to collapse. With a tremendous groan, the stone structure gave way, crashing down onto the troll. The courtyard shook with the impact, the beast roaring in fury as it thrashed beneath the crushing weight.

“Yes! That’s one down!” I shouted, adrenaline surging as Thunderhide leapt clear of the falling debris. The troll struggled, pinned and powerless, its roars fading into desperate snarls.

Jinx hurried over, breathless but grinning. “That should keep it busy. What’s next?”

I scanned the battlefield. The remaining minotaurs were scattered, their formation crumbling under the chaos. “You two take the guardhouse. I’ll handle the main hall.”

Thunderhide nodded, gripping his axe. “Time to end this!”

I charged forward, dark magic crackling at my fingertips. Beams of energy ripped through the minotaurs, leaving blood and chaos in their wake. Fear spread like wildfire, fueling my power as arrows flew toward me. A flick of my wrist sent them spiraling back into their archers, dropping them where they stood.

The massive hall doors loomed ahead, their carvings a tribute to forgotten heroes. Gathering my strength, I unleashed a burst of magic that shattered the gates, sending them flying inward. The hall lay before me, vast and ominous, waiting for the storm I would bring.

Stepping through the crumbling archway, I stopped to take in the ominous grandeur of the throne room. Pillars stretched skyward like skeletal hands, and dim light filtered through shattered stained glass, painting the floor in eerie shades. At the far end, slouched on a grotesque throne, sat a skeletal minotaur—a tower of chipped armor and bad decisions.

"Who dares enter this sacred domain?" His voice rumbled like a haunted wind chime, cold and hollow.

I cracked a grin. "Vex, father of shadows, demon of darkness, and owner of your soon-to-be-evicted fortress. You?"

He rose, towering and menacing, his horn broken, his armor cracked and oozing purple mist. "I was Bromak, general to kings! Now, I am Isolador, loyal servant to the Unmaker Malitum! His will guides my blade, his darkness envelopes all—"

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted, conjuring a shadow sword that hummed with menace. "Spare me the villain origin story. Let’s dance, bony."

Isolador’s gauntleted hands shimmered as curved blades of purple energy formed. "Another soul for Malitum," he hissed, charging at me with the subtlety of a drunk rhino.

Dodging his attack, I vaulted into the air, shadow wings unfurling behind me. His blades struck the floor, releasing webs of purple lightning that crackled hungrily. "Neat trick!" I called, dodging arcs of death while flinging dark tendrils toward him.

He deflected them, snarling. "Power won’t save you, Vex! Only faith—"

"Yeah, that’s not gonna work for me," I shot back, slamming a beam of white magic into his chest. His armor cracked further, but he roared, launching waves of energy that cleaved through pillars and walls alike.

The throne room became a chaotic battleground of debris and glowing carnage. I darted between falling stones, wings propelling me through the storm. A shattered column gave me a foothold, and I channeled my energy, locking him in a vice grip of magic.

"Faith won’t save you, Isolador!" I growled, hurling him into a wall, then the ceiling, and finally into his own throne with bone-shattering force. The ancient chair crumbled beneath him, and for a moment, it seemed like he’d stay down.

But of course not. He stood, trembling but alive, the mist around him thickening as he roared a sound that could curdle milk.

"Great," I muttered. "He’s got a second phase."

The room shook as the air grew heavy. Something stirred beyond the throne, its presence palpable and dark.

"Please tell me that’s not your boss," I said, glaring at Isolador.

He grinned, teeth clattering. "Malitum welcomes you."

"Fantastic," I deadpanned, readying my blade. "Let’s get this over with."

Fortress Courtyard: Jinx POV

The courtyard was a glorious mess—screams, fire, and enough flying limbs to start a macabre juggling act. Jinx darted through the chaos, his black-and-white jester suit somehow managing to look stylish amidst the bloodbath. His bombs arced gracefully through the air, landing with satisfying booms that painted the battlefield in red splatters.

"Boom, baby! One more and I’m MVP of the apocalypse," he cackled, tossing another bomb into a cluster of Minotaurs. The explosion scattered bits of armor and meat like confetti, and Jinx took a theatrical bow.

Then he heard it—a low, ominous hiss that cut through the chaos like a blade. He turned just in time to see the ground ripple unnaturally. A hulking serpent-like creature slithered out of a glowing blue portal, its scales gleaming and green eyes glowing with way too much malice for a Tuesday.

“Well, you’re uglier than my last ex,” Jinx quipped, lobbing a bomb. The explosion wrapped the creature in smoke, and he dusted his hooves dramatically. "Another one bites the—"

The smoke cleared. The creature, untouched, ate the darkness like it was a light snack, its body twisting into a flaming drill.

“—Son of a Minotaur’s armpit!” Jinx yelped, diving to the side as the beast plowed through the courtyard, leaving a molten path of destruction. Picking himself up, he muttered, “Where’s Thunderhide when you need him? Probably napping... lazy oaf.”

The creature turned toward the fortress, barreling through the now-busted doors like a battering ram from hell.

“Oh, hell no,” Jinx groaned, wiping soot from his muzzle. He glanced back at the battlefield, then at the smoldering wreckage the creature had left in its wake. “Guess it’s up to me to save Vex’s dramatic flank.”

With a resigned sigh and a grin that screamed chaos, Jinx sprinted into the fortress. "Don’t die before I get there, Vex! I want credit for this!"

Thunderhide barreled through the corridors like a one-man wrecking crew, his war axe cleaving Minotaurs in half with minimal effort. Blood sprayed, his armor gleamed, and he laughed—who wouldn’t? This was his kind of day. The smell of blood and metal filled the air, but it didn’t faze him. Not today.

“Too easy,” he grunted after snapping a Minotaur’s spine over his knee. The creature flew like a ragdoll, taking out two more as it crashed into them. Thunderhide wiped some blood off his face, smiling under his helmet.

Approaching a giant, rusted metal door, he tried the handle. Nope. He punched it, and the door didn’t even budge.

“Fine, you want it that way?” he growled, stepping back.

The air around him thickened with dark energy as he tapped into Vex’s shadowy gift. His muscles swelled, his eyes burned like hot coals, and the door creaked. Then, with a roar, he ripped the damn thing off the hinges and tossed it across the hall.

“Much better,” he muttered, stepping into the dark, cold depths of the fortress. The shadows, as always, clung to him like an old friend.

The deeper he went, the worse it smelled. Rotten corpses, flies buzzing lazily—everything screamed “death’s basement.” He grinned. "Nice and cozy."

At the far end, one cell stood out. Reinforced bars. Something dangerous, for sure.

"Let’s see what you’ve got hiding in here," he said, flexing his monstrous arms and ripping the bars off with a snarl.

Inside, runes flickered weakly. Thunderhide ignored them, too busy eyeing something darker—a presence, watching him. He sniffed the air.

“Whatever was in here… ain’t gone.”

He heard it then—the skittering. Like a million tiny claws scratching stone. His eyes darted up to the ceiling, just in time for something big to drop from the shadows.

A massive spider-like creature, all black, shiny, and way too fast for his liking, snagged him with its freakishly long legs.

“Okay, not today, buddy—”

The creature yanked him upward, his axe clattering to the stone floor as it dragged him into the dark.

Thunderhide fought back, muscles straining, but the creature’s grip was relentless. Then, bam, something sharp bit into his neck, sending venom coursing through him.

“What the—”

His vision blurred, his strength fading. His last thought before passing out was a mighty curse that he couldn’t even get out.

And then—silence.

The creature, now full, dropped his limp body in a heap, wrapping him up like a prize in sticky webs. It skittered off into the darkness, leaving Thunderhide to stew in his so much for being the toughest moment.

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here with another chapter! This is Part 1 of 2 for the fort takeover.

I've noticed that my chapters need to be more concise, so I'll be focusing on that more. It should make the chapters shorter and provide a better reading experience.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Stay tuned for the next installment, where we make the final push for victory over this fort.

Isolador:

Swarmer:

I based them off of the Trilid from the lost planet games.

Chapter 13: Vex vs. Isolador: The Final Dance - (StrongHorn Dominion)

The mountain air bit at my skin as I stood on the ramparts, bow drawn, eyes scanning the darkness. The fort had been standing for centuries, but today? It smelled like death.

Then the attack hit—out of nowhere. Silence. Shadows. Glowing eyes and limbs that twisted like a broken marionette. My first arrow hit one right in the face... and it reformed like some kind of creepy puzzle. "What the hell?" I muttered.

"They're not dying!" Thork, my Minotaur brother, bellowed, swinging his axe like a man possessed. "What are they?!"

"Whatever they are, we're fighting them!" I yelled, loosing another shot. Arrows slowed them for a second, then they just... popped back into shape. Great.

The walls were barely holding, with these things crawling through cracks like they had all the time in the world. The flames from our torches were our only hope—well, for now.

"To the fire!" I barked, jumping off the wall. Thork followed, axes swinging, but the creatures just reassembled like some dark magic IKEA furniture.

“Keep the fire burning!” I shouted, sprinting toward the central bonfire. We needed it. The flames were our last line of defense, but I could see the Shadows gathering, stronger with each pass.

"They're not beasts!" Thork grunted, chopping through another one. "They're like... evil Jell-O!"

I gritted my teeth, firing another arrow into the mist. The Shadows danced around, coming in waves. We were holding on, but just barely.

And then—oh great—these grotesque little dragonfly-wannabes swooped down like they were auditioning for some kind of demonic airshow. They had these sharp, stinger-like tails and looked like they came straight from a nightmare.

Before we could even react, one of them skewered a Minotaur archer clean in half. His bow shattered as he crumpled. These little devils were fast.

"Back to the fire!" I yelled. The remaining Minotaurs and I dashed like we were late for dinner, but those little creeps were all over us—dancing, slashing, and having the time of their lives.

We made it to the fire, barely. The shadows hesitated, watching us from the edges. They were waiting—too patient. Some bigger, nastier Shadows stood in the back, towering like they were waiting for us to die so they could give a "Welcome to Hell" speech.

The smaller ones threw rocks into the fire like they were playing a twisted game of dodgeball. "We can't keep this up," Thork said, sweat dripping down his fur. "The fire's gonna burn out!"

I swallowed. He was right. We couldn’t hold off forever. The creatures were smarter than they looked—and they had all the time in the world. We, on the other hand... we were fresh out of time.

They were patient. We were so screwed.

I felt the air shift before I saw it—danger, heavy and suffocating. My body moved on instinct, throwing me back just as the ceiling caved in. Dust and stone erupted, and in the chaos, I heard it—a low, guttural roar that made the floor tremble.

I coughed, dust stinging my eyes, and saw it—Isolador, grinning like an idiot, stroking his oversized pet. The wyvern's wings stretched wide, casting a shadow over the whole room.

“Another one of your toys?” I spat, wiping the dust from my face.

He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “A wyvern, bred for combat by the Cult of the Great Meltdown. Malitum gifted it to me. For you, of course.”

“Great. I can’t wait to make it my new chew toy,” I muttered, my fingers crackling with magic. Let’s see how this overgrown lizard liked a dose of Vex.

“Wait—Wyverns are part dragon,” Buddy’s voice buzzed in my head. “Their scales are magic-resistant. You’ve got to weaken them with debris first—then go for the flesh.”

Of course, this would be more complicated than just frying it. But Buddy was right. I scanned the rubble around me. Rocks. Big, jagged rocks.

Isolador’s smug laugh echoed. “Rocks? Pathetic.”

I ignored him, focusing on the stones. With a flick of my wrist, I sent one flying at the wyvern. It hit with a crack, denting the beast's scales. It roared, thrashing, but still standing. I followed up with another, a bigger rock—this time, I heard a satisfying crunch.

But before I could gloat, the wyvern flapped its wings with a force that nearly knocked me over. Flames shot out of its mouth, searing everything in its path. I teleported, barely dodging the inferno.

Isolador was already on the move, tugging at the reins. Before I could react, I felt a sudden pressure. The wyvern’s flames blasted my way again, and I barely avoided it, sliding across the floor.

“Really?” I muttered, rolling to my feet.

I formed a spear of shadows and hurled it. It wrapped around the wyvern, binding its wings together. The beast screeched and crashed to the ground with a thud.

“Not so tough now, huh?” I taunted Isolador, whose face was twisted in disbelief.

Before he could do anything, the wyvern retaliated, breathing fire to free itself. The flames erupted around it, engulfing the beast in a fiery storm. Isolador was tossed off like a ragdoll, crashing into debris.

I didn’t waste the opportunity. I dashed at him, tackling him to the ground and raining punches on his face. Electricity crackled with every strike, sending jolts through him. The ground trembled beneath us.

But then, out of nowhere, Isolador’s gauntlet blades sliced upward, severing my head clean off.

Pain. Darkness.

I could feel my body coming back together like it was just a flesh puzzle. I reformed, head back on, not even a scratch on my neck.

“Nice try,” I sneered, flexing my fingers. “But you’ll have to do better than that.”

Isolador scrambled back onto his wyvern, but before he could regain control, the whole place exploded in darkness. Jinx entered, grinning like a maniac.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun, Vex!” he said with that devil-may-care attitude. “I saw the monster and thought, hey, I should help.”

I smirked. “About damn time. Distract Isolador. I’ll handle the dragon.”

Jinx launched himself at Isolador. I had just enough time to focus on the wyvern, still writhing on the floor.

I hurled a massive stone chunk toward its mouth just as it was about to breathe fire again. The rock lodged in its throat, and instead of flames, the wyvern choked, its face contorting in panic. Then—boom. It exploded from the inside, leaving the throne room splattered in gore. Gross, but effective.

Victory, right?

Before I could savor the moment, Jinx tackled me, and we went down in a heap.

“Watch where you aim that, idiot!” I growled, shoving him off.

Isolador wasn’t done, though. His voice rumbled with fury. “You think you can defeat me? I’m the chosen one of Malitum, destined for greatness! I am invincible!”

I exchanged a look with Jinx. “Got any traps left?”

Jinx grinned. “A few. Just for assholes like him.”

He tossed his bombs. Isolador’s laughter died in his throat as the ceiling above him collapsed, burying him under rubble. He wasn’t laughing now. I glanced at Jinx.

“Is it over?” I croaked, feeling the dust clog my throat.

Jinx picked himself up, brushing off his hat. “Yup. Overkill, but hey, we got the job done.”

The remaining debris above us trembled, but I held it in place with my magic, just in case.

I collapsed into the throne, basking in the aftermath of taking over a fort. It felt like a big win—until I glanced at the burning seal on my wrist. The truth hit me hard: I’d killed the one person who might’ve known where the shard was hidden.

Oh, shit. I’d totally forgotten about the shard. This day was going to drag.

Before I could drown in my own stupidity, a loud crash echoed through the room. I turned just in time to see Jinx smash into the wall, wrapped in some kind of shimmering webbing.

“Dammit, Jinx!” I growled. “What now?”

A sultry voice purred from the shadows. “Blame the clown, but he’s just a victim of my feminine charms.”

I whipped around, annoyed. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, I could ask the same, but I’m pretty sure your rep precedes you. You're the guy who slaughtered a wyvern in spectacular fashion,” the voice teased.

I narrowed my eyes. “Show yourself, or I’ll blow this whole damn fort to bits.”

The shadows shifted, and out stepped a tall, slender unicorn draped in dark purple fur, like a walking nightmare. Spider legs sprouted from her back, moving with a grace that was both unsettling and hypnotic.

She flashed a smug smile. “Quite the mess you’ve made, Vex. But I think you could use a hand. I’m Arachnia. And I’ve got a proposition.”

Proposition? I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Everyone had their damn “propositions.” None of them ever went anywhere good.

“I’ve had enough of your kind,” I snapped. “Teaming up never works. You’re all full of hidden agendas.”

Arachnia took a step closer, her spider legs curling. “Come now, I know where the treasury is. And I’d bet my legs it’s not just gold in there.”

That made my ears perk up. Treasure. My mind shifted gears. I’d been hunting this shard forever, and if she knew where it was—hell, maybe I could use her.

“Alright,” I said, leaning back in the throne, feigning nonchalance. “You’ve got a deal.”

She blinked, surprised by my quick change of heart. “That was... fast.”

I shrugged, brushing some dust off my shoulder. “I’m all about getting what I want. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“And are you sure you know how villain partnerships work?” she purred, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Villains lie, cheat, and stab each other in the back.”

I smirked. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. Just tell me what you really want.”

Arachnia’s smile turned sharp. “I want to help the up-and-coming warlord. You could use someone who knows how to handle morons... and a spy network.”

Spy network? That got my attention. I leaned in, intrigued.

“I ran the Dark Empire’s intelligence division,” she said, her voice smooth like silk. “Sabotage, infiltration, you name it. My team was the best.”

“Yet it doesn’t exist anymore,” I shot back.

Her smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “Who needs a spy network when the kingdom that paid for it got conquered?”

Suddenly, the room felt darker. Dozens of glowing purple eyes appeared in the shadows, staring at me. I fought not to flinch.

“Alright,” I said, trying to sound casual even though my mind was racing. “You’ve got my attention. Don’t lose it.”

She grinned, thinking she’d won me over. I wasn’t about to make this easy.

I snapped my fingers, and Buddy, my ever-watchful serpent, slithered out of the shadows, coiling around the throne. Arachnia froze, her cocky smile cracking for a second.

“He’s watching,” I said, leaning back with a smirk. “Preserve your usefulness.”

Arachnia nodded, her smile shifting to something more cautious. “Of course. I look forward to our partnership.”

So do I, I thought. Because the second you become more trouble than you're worth, you're out.

... Now, where the hell is Thunderhide?

Thunderhide lay in the corner of the dungeon, snoring like a storm on a rampage. The giant bull, was stuck in a web cocoon, his massive hands twitching every now and then, but the webbing held him tight. A drool bubble inflated and deflated from his nose in perfect rhythm with his thunderous snores, as if his sinuses were in on the joke.

“ZZZ… Mmm… not the pie…”

A loud snort echoed, sending a few rats bolting in panic. Thunderhide shifted in his sleep, mumbling nonsense before flopping back into dreamland. His tail, also caught in the web, gave a lazy thump, sending spiders scattering in annoyance.

“Wake me up when there's more pie...”

The hum of my airship softened as it descended, its shadow sprawling over the factory like a predator sizing up its prey. Below, the workers scurried about—griffons, minotaurs, zebras—all playing their parts in my grand design. My arrival, naturally, didn’t go unnoticed. They stared, some with curiosity, most with fear.

As they should.

The ramp extended with a smooth hiss, and I descended like the monarch I was born to be—robes billowing, every step measured to perfection. At the bottom of the ramp stood Iron Spindle, the factory manager, looking as polished as he could muster. His jumpsuit was pressed, his smile glued in place like a bad charm spell.

“Lord Evergore,” he greeted, bowing so deeply I thought he might snap in half. “An honor as always! The factory is performing wonderfully—absolutely marvelously.”

“Spindle,” I replied with a disarming smile, one that promised nothing but judgment. “Let’s save the verbal gymnastics. I’m not here to be impressed; I’m here to be satisfied.”

His smile twitched, but he nodded quickly and gestured for me to follow. As we walked through the bustling yard, I noted the motley workforce—feathers ruffled, horns chipped, faces blank with resignation. I didn’t need to ask, but I did anyway, for the sport of it.

“An exotic collection of laborers. Illegal immigrants, I presume?”

Spindle’s chuckle was as nervous as it was transparent. “Ah, yes, my lord. They’re cost-efficient, shall we say? And if they get any bright ideas about reporting us, well... Let’s just say immigration enforcement is very responsive to our calls.”

Charming.

“Efficient,” I said, my tone dry as a desert. “And yet, efficiency without control is a risk I’d rather not entertain. Tell me, Spindle, how secure are my critical operations?”

“Completely secure!” he said, his head bobbing like a dashboard ornament. “The workers never step foot near the construction room. That area is fully automated, as per your brilliant specifications.”

I inclined my head, accepting his flattery like one might tolerate an annoying but useful fly. At least he wasn’t entirely incompetent.

The steel doors of the factory loomed ahead, emblazoned with the sigil of House Crystal Tech—a sigil that would soon be synonymous with Equestria. Spindle swiped his keycard, and the doors parted to reveal the heart of my empire. The hum of machinery greeted me, a symphony of innovation, while the scent of molten metal mingled with the electric tang of progress.

And there they were.

Rows upon rows of MK3 golems, their golden frames glinting under the lights, crimson optics glowing faintly as diagnostics ran. Artistry in alloy. Perfection in programming. Weapons of war, yes, but also declarations of supremacy.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Spindle said, his voice thick with pride. “Ahead of schedule and under budget, my lord. A testament to your unparalleled genius.”

I stopped before one of the completed units, studying it as my eye's scanned its flawless design. I was silent for a long moment, letting Spindle sweat. Finally, I spoke.

“How soon until deployment?”

Spindle swallowed. “Well, my lord, final testing is underway. The first batch will be ready within the month.”

“A month,” I repeated, the word as heavy as a judge’s gavel. “Acceptable. But understand this, Spindle: delays are the province of failures. I do not tolerate failure. These golems are not mere machines; they are the harbingers of a new era. My era. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal clear, my lord,” Spindle stammered.

I smiled, sharp and cutting. “Good.”

As we moved deeper into the factory, Spindle droned on about production metrics and cost analyses. I tuned him out, my gaze fixed on the rows of golden sentinels. Each one was a step toward the future I envisioned—a future of progress.

The MK3 golems were only the beginning. Soon, all of Equestria would bow to my vision. And when they did, they’d learn a simple truth:

Perfection doesn’t come cheap. But I? I am worth every damned bit.

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here with another chapter! This is Part 2 of 2 for the fort takeover.

Wyvern concept art:

Arachnia:

Agents of Arachnia:

Chapter 9: Contracts and brake outs - (Northern Mountain)

Leaning back, I steepled my fingers, the cool stone grounding me as I laid out my terms. "You know the deal. You tell me where the metal is, I get it, and then I'll give you the same empowerment I gave the others—no strings attached." I waved a dismissive hand. "Once I have the metal, the power's yours, free and clear."

Crystallus nodded, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Agreed, only if we signed a contract." He extended his hoof across the table.

Of course, the bureaucrat would want a contract. I didn't have time for all that legal nonsense, but a goddess's armor was non-negotiable. I'd endure this paperwork charade. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Fine, but I need to look over this first."

He shrugged and handed me the parchment. As I unfurled it, the ancient magic practically oozed from the paper. The contract was simple enough—except for one phrase.

"What’s this 'Devramar law of honor'?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Crystallus remained calm. "Devramar law binds all lesser beings to the honor code of Devramar, God of Truth, Honor and justice. Violate it, and it's bad news for both of us."

I squinted at the paper. "Right," I muttered, signing with my claw, using shadow magic as ink. "Seems... fine."

The deal was struck. Both of us stood, ready to fulfill our parts of the bargain, as our alliance was sealed in dark ink.

I left his office and walked down a violet-lit tunnel toward the cafeteria. The idea of that armor against powerful beings like the princesses was tempting, but I also had other plans. Finding the Pony of Shadows, raiding the Crystal Empire, and—oh, the artifacts. The Bell of Grogar, the Alicorn Amulet... and maybe, just maybe, turning shadows into warrior armor for my own personal army. Yes, this would be so much fun.

As I neared the cafeteria, I quickened my pace, eager to check on my minions. But when I pushed the doors open, I froze. The scene in front of me made my jaw drop.

"What the actual Fu—!"

My claws tore through the stone like butter, tunneling deeper into enemy territory. Puck barked out directions behind me, but I was getting suspicious we were just going in circles.

"Go right!" Puck said, sniffing the air. "We're close, I can smell it!"

I gave him a side-eye. "You sure? I swear we’ve turned right every time."

Puck puffed out his chest, eyes squinting with pride. "I ain't no clueless pup! My instincts are always spot on!"

I shot him a glare, "You *have* been checking the map, right?"

Puck froze. Then, awkwardly, he pulled the map out. "Uh... maybe I forgot? But I know the way!"

I facepalmed. At least now I had the right to dig with my left paw. As I hacked into the stone again, I could feel my patience slipping away. We were supposed to be on a mission, not chasing our own tails.

Puck grumbled, fumbling with the map. "Okay, okay, let's check it—"

"Map?!" I snapped. "No more ‘right’ turns, let's just go left."

Just as I started digging, the ground beneath us rumbled. I slammed a paw down in frustration, and with a crash, we fell out of the tunnel and onto a pile of crystal guards, who immediately froze, staring at us.

We jumped off them in a panic, with Puck scrambling behind me, pulling out his dagger. I dropped into a defensive stance, teeth bared. "You ponies think you can mess with the Gorkjaw Pack? We'll rip off your forelegs and—"

My threats died in my throat. The crystal guards were covered in tar-like vines, their expressions... unimpressed. I glanced around, spotting more guards trapped in similar vines. But what really caught my attention were the tar beasts—minotaur-like creatures—battling it out in the distance, with a crowd of monsters cheering them on.

I quickly dragged Puck down behind the rock pile. "Stay quiet," I whispered. Puck wriggled in my grip.

"Let me go, you big oaf—"

"Quiet, Puck," I hissed. "Danger’s all around us."

Puck gave me a dirty look. "I can see that," he muttered, glancing at the monsters going to town on each other. "What the hell are those things?"

"I dunno, but they don't look friendly," I muttered, peering at the brawling minotaurs. "We’re not fighting those, not today."

That’s when a voice called out from behind us. "Ahem?"

I spun around, paws ready, and found a tied-up guard with a sickly grin. He had the nerve to ask, "Mind lending a hoof to a pony in need?"

I snarled, taking a threatening step forward. "You must be dumber than a rock if you think I'd help a crystal pony."

The guard’s face shifted from cocky to desperate. "Hey, let’s not be hasty. We can work something out. If you’re digging around here, you must want something, right? Maybe I can help, in exchange for some help?"

I cracked my knuckles, grinning. "How 'bout I just smash your face in and take what I want?"

The guard laughed nervously. "Well, you could do that, but what about those monsters over there? They're tough, and there’s more of them than you think."

I smirked, flexing my claws. "I’ll smash their heads in too, if I have to."

Puck cut in, giving the guard a quick, apologetic glance. "Sorry for my friend. He gets... enthusiastic. But we’ve had a chat, and we’re willing to help you out."

I was yanked away by my ear before I could argue, with Puck pulling me aside. "Why are you apologizing to him?!" I whispered harshly.

"Because, idiot," Puck hissed back, "we can use him. If we help him, he can help us get the slaves out of here. And I’m not getting caught up in those monster fights." He shot me a look, tail swishing. "I’m thinking smart, mate."

I scratched my head. "So, we let them fight while we grab the slaves?"

Puck nodded with a wicked grin. "Exactly. We play them like pawns, and walk away with the prize."

We returned to the guard, who was still struggling in his bonds, but his eyes widened in hope. "Thank the gods, you’ll help me—"

"Hold up," Puck interrupted, wagging a finger. "We’ll help you if you help us. Tell us where the slaves are, and we’ll cut you loose."

The guard hesitated, then smirked. "Ah, I can tell you where they are. But... the ones working for you? They’re all dead, thanks to those freaks." He pointed toward the monsters.

Puck’s smile faltered. "Great..."

The guard’s grin widened. "But, there are still about 30 slaves in the storage rooms. Would that cover your end?"

Puck’s eyes narrowed. Thirty slaves? That could work. We exchanged a quick glance, weighing our options. We didn’t have much of a choice.

"Deal," Puck said, grumbling, and began sawing at the tar vines.

Suddenly, a voice boomed behind us, sending a chill down my spine. "What the hell is this?"

I turned around to see one of the minotaur-like monsters walking toward us. Panic shot through me as I grabbed Puck and ducked behind the rock pile. This was going to get messy.

"No, over here, beef head!" a voice yelled. We looked up to see a griffin perched on some barrels, flapping its wings and effortlessly lifting a barrel my size. "We've got ale, boys! Let's go!"

The Minotaur stopped, eyeing the griffin before pointing at the rock pile. "Wait, do you remember this big-ass pile of rocks being here?"

Crap. The Minotaur was about to blow our cover. Puck clung to my leg, shaking like a leaf and gripping his dagger. I flexed my claws, ready to dig us out if things went sideways.

The griffin, unimpressed, flew over, poked the Minotaur in the chest, and deadpanned, "Bro, seriously? You're staring at rocks when there's ale and people beating the hell out of each other?"

The Minotaur stared blankly at the griffin with his lifeless, glowing eyes before casting one last suspicious glance at the rock pile hiding us. He shook his head, swatting the griffin's talon away. "You're right. Enough yapping. Time to drink." He grabbed two barrels and trotted off after his griffin buddy, laughing like a maniac.

"That was way too close," I muttered, letting out a breath as my fur finally relaxed. Looking down, I saw Puck still clinging to my leg, shaking. I flicked his nose, making him whine and rub it.

"Ow, quit it, Bill," Puck grumbled, shooting me a dirty look. I pointed at the guards. Puck facepalmed. "Oh, right. Forgot about them."

He went back to cutting the vines, and after a few more snips, Stonehoof was free. The other two ponies were still unconscious, trapped by withered vines. Puck looked up at Stonehoof with a smirk.

"So, what's your name, pony?" he asked.

Stonehoof tilted his head. "Me? I'm Stonehoof. Why?"

Puck shrugged, finishing up the last vine. "Gotta know whose head's gonna get squashed first if this goes sideways," he said, casually pointing his dagger at the pony. Stonehoof froze, eyes wide.

I positioned myself behind him, making sure there was no way out. Lucky for us, Stonehoof was an Earth Pony. Pegasi would’ve flown away, and a Unicorn would’ve sent us flying. Earth Ponies were strong, but we were Diamond Dogs—at least *I* was strong enough to take a few hits. Puck, on the other hand, might be sent flying.

Puck waved his dagger lazily. "Alright, lead us to the slaves. We're on a schedule."

Stonehoof’s jaw dropped. "W-what? But you said you'd help me!"

"Yeah, we did," Puck smirked. "Now, you help us. Show us the slaves, or I’ll make you into a rug!"

Stonehoof flinched, backing into me. He gulped, eyes darting between us. "But the others—"

"Not our problem," Puck interrupted. "You’re free. Now, move it, or I'll start decorating with pony parts."

Stonehoof nodded frantically, hurrying down a tunnel, with us hot on his tail.

I let out a breath as Stonehoof led the mutts out of sight. Scanning the area to make sure no one else was watching, I snapped the dark vines off my horn and slipped free from the bindings.

"Shadowmist, you good?" I called, only to find her already out, shaking off the few stray vines that had clung to her.

She shot me a raised brow. "Already ahead of you, hotshot. But what's with Stonehoof and the 'slaves'? Last I checked, the only thing down there is a corpse pit. Why’s he headed that way?"

I glanced at the tunnel Stonehoof had disappeared into. She was right—nothing but death and decay in that direction. My suspicion grew.

"So, what's the plan?" Shadowmist asked, her ears twitching with excitement.

"Alright, here's the plan," I said, quickly coming up with something. "I'll free the others, you follow the mutts. You’re better at sneaking than I am, but I’m not sure how your Shadow Magic will hold up against these freaks." She gave me a shrug and a lazy grin.

"Fair enough. Good luck. I’m off!" And with that, she dissolved into a shadowy mist, zipping off to follow the dogs.

I looked around the cafeteria, trying to make sense of the chaos. A dozen guards, split into groups of three, had been caught off guard. Two of our guys were already gone with the Diamond Dogs, leaving nine to free. That meant three traps to dismantle. I wasn’t great with magic, but I knew a decent invisibility spell—though it was a bit unstable. But with all the shadows and drunk monsters, I figured I had a chance to sneak by.

I spotted the makeshift boxing ring, now a free-for-all of monsters rolling around. Four more were passed out on the sidelines, including the griffin. Our weapons were stored nearby, guarded by more freaks. The traps were arranged in a triangle: one by the snack bar, another by some overturned tables, and the last near the crystals.

I figured I’d start with the snack bar trap—it seemed the easiest. As I made my way, I noticed a glowing white eye scanning the area. My fur prickled, but my invisibility spell was holding. I just had to get past this thing.

Approaching the trap, I saw it was taller than I expected. Crap, no way I could rip it down with just magic. Looking around for something useful, I spotted some crystal silverware. Grabbing a few knives, I aimed them at the trap’s glowing eye. The moment I launched them, the trap screamed and convulsed, tentacles shooting out in all directions.

"Great, just great," I muttered, dodging a tendril that nearly skewered me. Desperation clawed at me, but as the knives lodged into the trap’s eye, I saw it twitching in agony. I thrust them deeper, tearing through the eye like wet paper.

The trap collapsed into ash with a satisfying squelch, but the guards above me fell, their vines snapping like rubber bands. Panic hit me, and I used my magic to catch them mid-fall.

"Ugh, who the buck are you?" one of the guards grumbled as he stirred. His red-plumed helmet marked him as Squad Leader. I gave him a pointed look.

"I'm Black Shard. Taskmaster, inciting a riot. We need every hoof we can get." My tone was serious, but my words hung in the air.

He blinked, then nodded. "Understood. Icefeather, at your service. Let’s do this."

"Good. We’ve got two more traps to deal with before we can start the riot," I said, eyeing the chaos unfolding. My smirk grew as I saw two of the freaks too drunk to stand. The rest were too busy brawling.

Icefeather, flying beside me, raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan on handling the rest? We were outnumbered last time, and they regenerate."

I nodded towards the boxing ring. "Six freaks, two drunk, and the rest distracted. This time, we’ve got the element of surprise."

As we crept closer, I watched Icefeather’s subordinates take action. One of them knocked a lunch tray off a table, triggering a deadly burst of spikes from the shadows. The pegasus barely dodged them, his armor dented. Icefeather winced.

"Do your soldiers always take the lead?" I asked, amused.

He fumbled, clearly caught off guard. "W-Well, they don’t usually, but this is... an exceptional case."

I chuckled. "Let’s hope they survive long enough for the big show."

The two pegasi glided over the tables, expertly dodging the dark tendrils that formed a creepy fortress. But then—classic mistake—one of them brushed a lunch tray, sending it clattering into the abyss below. In response, the shadows shot up like angry, spiky tentacles, aiming to skewer him like a shish kebab. The pegasus barely dodged, but not before one of the spikes made a satisfying clang off his armor.

I froze when I saw the trap. If I’d gotten any closer, I would’ve been skewered. My neck tensed as I rubbed it, trying to calm myself down.

Ice Feather snickered, watching his guards handle things. "Good thing nobody's dumb enough to climb that, right?" He elbowed me.

I forced a smile, beads of sweat forming. "Yeah... Maybe you should help them, huh?" I nudged him.

He paused, thinking. "Huh, true. Guess I'll help out. You take care of the last trap." And with that, he took off.

I went invisible with my camouflage spell, sneaking toward the last group of guards tied up near the glowing gray crystals. The freaks guarding them were drunk and stupid, making this easier than I expected. I silently edged closer.

I grabbed a crystal knife from my boot and started cutting the tendrils holding the ponies. As soon as I made the first cut, the crystals glowed, bright enough to make the sun jealous.

Panic set in. I hacked faster, glancing around. One of the freaks noticed. His speech was slurred as he stumbled over, holding a cup of ale like it was his lifeline.

Before I could finish, I felt a cold grip on my shoulder. A freak threw me across the floor like I was a ragdoll. I landed with a thud.

But then, I saw the earth pony break free, bucking the drunk freak in the chest. The Minotaur flew backward, crashing into the wall like a cartoon character. The whole place shook.

The earth pony froze, his leg still extended. “My bad?” he said with a nervous smile, clearly not knowing what had just happened.

The freak, still holding his beer, snored through the wreckage. Meanwhile, the rest of the freaks surrounded the earth pony, looking ready for a fight. We had eight ponies now, and things were about to get real.

The Diamond Dog freak looked around with wide eyes and grabbed the Minotaur by the shoulder. “We got a problem,” he said, ears flattened.

The Minotaur grumbled, "What now?"

The Diamond Dog pointed at us. "Uh, them."

The Minotaur glanced over, saw the chaos, and grumbled, "Whatever. We'll win. We always do."

I just smirked. Ice Feather rocketed into the Minotaur, slamming into his head and sending him skidding. His skull caved in like a smashed melon but then *poof*—it reshaped itself.

“Looks like you were wrong,” I muttered as Ice Feather hovered out of reach, dodging the freaks.

The Diamond Dog swung, but his fist met the Minotaur’s face instead. That left only two freaks standing: the Diamond Dog and a unicorn, both looking increasingly worried.

The Diamond Dog roared and tried to charge, but a blast from the unicorn's horn sent him tumbling, leaving him digging into the ground like a terrified mole.

The unicorn was next. I blasted a beam of light into his face, throwing off his magic. I grabbed a crystal, hurled it at his horn, and *snap*. He hit the floor, clutching his broken horn and screaming like a banshee.

Suddenly, the ground shook. Two earth ponies were shot into the air, only to be yanked into the dirt by shadowy claws. They were stuck up to their necks.

I dodged another geyser of dirt and grabbed a shard of crystal, stabbing it into the shadow arm until it screeched and pulled back.

We were down to Ice Feather, one unicorn, and one earth pony left against the Diamond Dog freak. It wasn’t ideal, but we had the upper hoof.

The ground rumbled, and before anyone could react, a burrow erupted from the surface, sending dirt flying as it moved toward the wall and up to the ceiling. Stalactites shook violently. "Move!" I shouted, barely dodging the falling spikes as they impaled the floor around us. One nearly skewered the two earth ponies stuck in the dirt. Their faces went pale. Too close.

The ceiling cracked, and dirt and rock rained down. I threw up a shield just in time to protect myself, but the shockwave from a Diamond Dog bursting through the ceiling sent me flying. I landed hard, rolling to my hooves, watching the beast dig its paws back into the ground.

The earth pony bucked the Diamond Dog toward me, and I grabbed it with my magic, spinning the beast into the air just in time for Icefeather to body-slam it back into the ground, creating a small crater.

Heavy breathing rattled my chest as adrenaline coursed through me. I stood still for a moment, trying to catch my breath.

Icefeather emerged from the wreckage, looking like he’d been hit by a freight train. His helmet came off with a quick jerk, and he gulped air as if suffocating. Meanwhile, the earth pony was delivering firm kicks to the heads of the unconscious freaks in the ring like it was just another Tuesday.

He approached the Minotaur, whose skull had been caved in by Icefeather. The beast was still twitching, trying to regenerate its head. The earth pony gave it a kick, sending it toppling before bucking it once more—smashing its skull again. “We’ve got a few minutes before they wake up,” he said, as casual as if he were talking about the weather.

I didn’t need to be told twice. “StrawBind, right?” I asked, trying to shake off the surprise of working with him again. "Get the bond crystal."

The earth pony gave me a quick nod and bolted off to get it.

Icefeather sidled up next to me, his eyes darting nervously. "What do we do now?"

I scanned the mess around us—tables flipped, the cafeteria ruined, and more freaks on the ground. "You round up the freaks so StrawBind can sort them. I'll check on the guards."

Icefeather groaned. "Why do I have to do all the dirty work?"

I shot him a deadpan look. "Because I have magic, and you don’t. Now get to work."

He whined but got to it. I healed the guards, making sure none of them were going to bleed out. Then I began digging the earth ponies out of the dirt. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.

Suddenly, the stone doors crashed open, and Stonehoof and Shadowmist galloped in, eyes wide with terror. “The Diamond Dogs—” Stonehoof started, but then the dogs burst in, yelping and running past us, only to cannonball into the ground and dig away like it was water.

Confusion hit me hard. "Why are they running?"

"Ahhhhhh!" A scream echoed from the tunnel as a writhing mass slithered down the passage, some sort of caterpillar creature shrouded in darkness.

Without thinking, I slammed the door shut with magic, using tables to reinforce it. Glancing at Shadowmist and Stonehoof, I couldn't contain my frustration. “What the hell did you two do?”

They exchanged nervous glances, eyes wide, and then mumbled, “We touched Malachi’s stuff.”

I stared at them, deadpan. “You dumbasses.”

Before I could say more, the door exploded inward, sending tables flying across the room.

I crept through the dark tunnels, my shadowy form barely making a sound as I passed by the oblivious Diamond Dogs. The faint purple glow from the crystals lit the way, but I didn’t need it—vampire ponies had taught me well. Sure, I could’ve used my magic to wipe out these mutts, but I was curious. Plus, Black Shard didn’t think much of my magical prowess anyway, so I wasn’t exactly rushing back. He could handle himself; he was a big pony after all.

Stonehoof suddenly stopped at a door and slipped into the morgue. My eyebrow shot up. The only pony who ever went in there was Malachi from the Great Meltdown, and that guy had a *unique* relationship with the dead.

Grim memories of the Crystal Empire hit me—graveyards were like the busiest part of the city, with skeletons roaming around like they owned the place. Even King Sombra thought they were a little off.

I followed Stonehoof inside, blending into the shadows as usual. Inside the morgue, there was a cage full of creatures. A weird Minotaur, a Griffin, and mostly Diamond Dogs and ponies who didn’t seem to be moving. The mutts didn’t care though.

The little pink Diamond Dog danced around like a happy idiot. "So, these the slaves? One, two, three... Yup, thirty! Hahaha, Gorkjaw gonna be thrilled!" he cackled, clearly high on his own nonsense.

The big mutt shoved Stonehoof aside and pointed to the door. "Open it," he grunted.

Stonehoof hesitated, pulling out a key and—wait—was that a vial of something? I squinted but couldn’t make it out before he stuffed it away. Whatever it was, he was up to something shady.

After some fumbling, Stonehoof unlocked the door, and it swung open with a creak. The little mutt wasted no time barking, “Get up, you lazy sacks! New bosses now!” But none of the prisoners moved. Cue tantrum.

“I said get up, you useless—Huh!?” The little idiot kicked one of the ponies, and his foot went straight through its skin with a disgusting squelch. He yanked his foot out, gagging, and stumbled back.

As the big dog was distracted by his little buddy’s incompetence, Stonehoof seized the moment. With one powerful buck, he sent the big mutt flying into the cage and slammed the door shut.

"That ought to do it," Stonehoof muttered, dusting off his hooves.

I snickered from the shadows. The dogs had no idea what was coming.

Stonehoof smirked as the big mutt fumbled with the bodies he'd fallen on, while the little pink one wiped his foot on a corpse with a grimace.

I couldn’t help but whistle. Stonehoof spun, startled, scanning the room. I slinked up from his shadow, barely able to hold in my laughter.

"Who's there? Show yourself! I am a crystal soldier!" Stonehoof shouted, trying to sound tough, but his voice cracked.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Boo."

"AHHH! What—!?" Stonehoof yelped, leaping into a dresser, clearly trying to hide from a shadow.

"Down here, big guy," I teased, rising from the floor. His face froze when he saw me.

"Shadowmist, you little—what are you doing here? I thought you were asleep in the cafeteria!" He groaned.

I gave a sly grin. "A mare has her ways. But seriously, what’s the plan here? Melting the mutts? 'Cause that stunt won’t hold for long," I said, eyeing the corpse-strewn floor.

Stonehoof pulled out a green vial with a dark grin. "Oh, I’ve got a plan. Malachi uses this to melt bodies, so why not try it on our guests?" he said, chuckling sinisterly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Wow, you’ve got some guts. I like it." I nudged him with my rear. "But let’s hurry up. Black Shard’s making his move, and I don't think stealth is his thing."

Stonehoof grinned as he tossed the vial into the cage. The mutts inside blinked, confused, as the vial shattered, releasing a green vapor that evaporated into the air.

The Diamond Dogs scrambled, but instead of melting into goo, the vapor was sucked into the pile of bodies. I shot Stonehoof a look. "This... isn’t how it’s supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Usually, it’s a slaughterhouse. But hey, guess the mix didn’t take."

The mutts exchanged a nervous glance, then, as if on cue, the big one dug his way to the door and slammed it shut with a wicked grin.

"Not so fast," the little one said, walking toward us, face hidden in shadow under his helmet. "You like melting and scaring us? How about we return the favor?"

Before I could react, Bill, the big mutt, grabbed my horn, halting my magic before I could escape. "Tsk tsk, pony. It’s rude to run off."

The little mutt rummaged through the dresser, pulling out vials like a mad scientist, tossing them aside until he found the orange "Fire" one. He grinned, opening it and letting a droplet fall. A fireball the size of a baseball hovered dangerously close to us.

"Open their mouths. Let’s give 'em a treat," he said.

Bill held our jaws open as the little mutt raised the vial above us. I panicked, sweat pouring down my face. The drop teetered dangerously above me.

Suddenly, a screech of metal filled the air, and we froze. We turned toward the cage just in time to see the bars bending under some unseen pressure.

A lone pony head emerged from the mass of bodies inside the cage. Its neck stretched like a nightmare, inching closer to us with every twitch, jaws snapping hungrily. Its arms and hooves reached out as though they wanted to grab us.

Just as we thought we were done for, the creature retracted its head back into the pile, as if confused by the hole the little mutt had made when he dug his way out.

The body slithered back, twisting, as more flesh piled out, and with a final twitch, the thing popped out of the cage, crawling toward the exit.

We all stood frozen, watching the horror unfold in stunned silence.

Bill dropped us like a hot potato, and Stonehoof and I exchanged a look that screamed, we’re so screwed. Without wasting a second, I yanked the vial from the little mutt’s paw with my magic and hurled it at the abomination, now halfway out of its hole. It exploded on impact, sending fiery chaos all over the creature. It shrieked in agony as its fleshy, nightmare body thrashed around.

The two mutts snapped out of their stupor and bolted for the door, breaking it down like it was made of paper. Stonehoof and I followed suit, but the abomination wasn’t done yet. It recovered quickly, and we were now the main course in its pursuit.

We dashed out the door, took a hard left, and sprinted down the tunnel. If we can just get to the cafeteria, I thought, maybe those freaks will deal with it. And if they didn't, well, at least it would be out of our hair—win-win.

Behind us, I heard a crash, and when I dared to glance back, I saw a massive minotaur's hand buried in the stone wall. The abomination's body followed like a freaky, fleshy caterpillar, hooves dragging, arms flailing, pony head emerging from the mass with a hungry glare.

Stonehoof, who hadn’t dared look back, paled like he'd seen a ghost.

“We really need to get to the cafeteria!” I panted. “At this rate, Black Shard’s either freed everyone or is a pancake, but if those freaks are still there, they’ll deal with the abomination while we peace out!”

Stonehoof’s eyes were wide with terror. “I’m not running fast enough for this!”

“Just run!” I yelled, glancing over my shoulder. The abomination was catching up. And fast.

"What the FUCK is going on? I was gone for, like, 15 minutes!" I yelled, scanning the chaos around me. Crystal guards were scrambling, my minions were half-panic, half- confusion, and in the middle of it all, a disgusting, caterpillar-like abomination was slithering after them.

I smirked, magic flaring, as I froze everyone in place, leaving them like statues. The only thing that could still move was the freakshow, thrashing and screeching. I raised my hand, a white aura enveloping it, and slammed the creature into the ceiling and walls. It hit with a satisfying *crunch*, then I impaled it on a stalactite, adding a few more for good measure. The creature’s screeches turned into pathetic whimpers before it finally stopped moving.

I turned to my frozen audience, sorting them by faction like it was a freaky school assembly—crystal guards on the left, my minions on the right.

Clapping my hands, I cleared my throat. "Good news, everyone! I’ve had a *productive* chat with your lord, and we’ve reached a deal. There’s a ceasefire for now," I announced, releasing them from my magic.

One of the crystal guards sat up, incredulous. "But you killed one of us!"

"Yeah, and I’ll kill you too if you keep running that mouth," I snapped, my claw lighting up with magic. He shut up faster than a kitten with a sock on its head.

I waved it off. "Anyway, we will leave you to your own devices once I get what was promised. In the meantime, no more fighting between us. Just get to cleaning up this mess." My voice carried authority, and sure enough, the room started clearing itself up.

I looked around for Jinx, my second-in-command. No sign of him. Great. Instead, I found Thunderhide, half-buried in a wall with a mug of ale in hand.

I teleported over, tapped his head a few times until the fog cleared, and watched him pull himself out of the rubble, disoriented. "Did you get the license plate of that truck that hit me?"

"No, but I bet you know where Jinx is," I shot back, noting the hoofprints on his chest plate.

Thunderhide scrambled to his feet, saluted, and muttered a quick apology. "Uh, Jinx took a squad to find you after... you know... the wizard thing. Half the troops stayed behind to guard prisoners."

My eyes narrowed as the chaos from earlier clicked into place. Prisoners... loose... Fantastic.

"Whatever. Come with me. You’re my new bodyguard. I need to look *professional* when I deal with Crystallus," I said, Buddy wrapping around my waist like a living belt.

Thunderhide followed meekly, and we marched toward Crystallus's chamber. Once there, I gave him a pointed look. "I’ll do all the talking. You stand there and look tough. Got it?"

Thunderhide nodded vigorously, miming a zipper across his lips.

I swung open the double wooden doors and stepped into the large cave room, lit by five purple crystals—just enough to see without blinding you. A round table stood in the middle, a map sprawled across it, showing the mountain, nearby cities, and a line dividing "Equestria" and "Stronghorn Dominion." Crystallus and Malachi were already standing there, waiting.

"Ah, you've informed the subordinates about our operation?" Crystallus asked, glancing at me.

I gave a dismissive wave. "Told them enough. They won’t start any unnecessary fights while we're handling business. Now, about the metal?"

I leaned over the table, eyeing Malachi and Crystallus. Malachi slid a glass jar across the table, and as it landed, Crystallus spoke.

"We have a Geode Passage ready to bring you to the horde holding the metal. It's yours." Crystallus slid a triangular-shaped stone with a teardrop-shaped gem in the middle. "This is the key. Just bring it within two meters of the arch, and the portal will appear."

I studied the stone for a moment, then looked up at him. "And what does this Geode Passage look like?"

Crystallus waved a hoof. "It's an archway made of stone with runes around it. When you approach with the key, a portal opens. It was once used by ancient merchants to travel between kingdoms in the blink of an eye, taught to them by the elder dragoness Interstella. But enough history—let's get to business."

I raised an eyebrow. "Malachi mentioned my 'gift' is parasitic. You don't want me to wear it, right?"

Crystallus grinned. "Not yet. I want it placed in the jar for study before I take the risk myself."

I glanced at the jar, then back at him. I wasn’t thrilled about their tests, but putting it in the jar was a hell of a lot better than wearing it myself. I nodded and placed my claw in, letting the dark energy fill the jar like liquid. When it was full, I pulled my hand out and gave it a glance.

"That should do," Crystallus said, his grin widening. "Now, where is this gate?"

I smirked. "Show me the way, and I’ll handle the rest."

Author's Note

Hey, Trashmanic here with an Author's Note. This chapter took longer because I was rewriting some of the old chapters from Chapter 5 onward, mostly making the mind reading more detailed and adding a few new character POVs, rewording a few conversations. Also, Chapter 6 got completely overhauled; it was very rushed before, and I wasn't satisfied with it, so I went to work on it and got it up to my standard.