Pete knew that something was wrong when the dome didn't disappear. When weeks went by without any communication from Equestria. The dark shell surrounding the nation sat ominous in the skyline, like a looming threat waiting to pounce on the world at large. Griffons began stationing themselves on the outside of the dome, soldiers quarantining a hazardous zone. Travel to Equestria was obviously banned. None of which made Pete feel any better.

At best the Elements of Harmony had been captured, and who knew what had been done to them. Worst case, they were dead. As hard as he tried not to, his mind constantly drifted back to it. They were dead. He was too late. A failure again. Somehow it motivated him. He kept going on, searching for the artifact that Celestia had deemed this important. Spring became summer, fall, winter again, and during that time his search became fueled by something new. Nobel intentions were gone. Revenge was all that burned inside of Pete.

And then, after all that time, monsters began to arise from the darkness that surrounded Equestria. Pony shaped figures of inky blackness that attacked anything that lived. Normal animals fled from the monsters. Nature rejected the beasts and they gave no care for nature. They could kick down trees and homes, even monstrous creatures like manticores and Ursa even gave way to the small aberrations.

In the wake of these creatures the remaining nations banded together and formed a collective army to stem their flow from Equestria's borders. Security became tighter and though many had already gotten through into the lands beyond, the rest became dormant again. Standing menacingly on the other side of the dome looking out at their foes and wardens. Those that had gotten through roamed the lands freely, meeting minimal opposition as they traveled from village to village. In time they would become a gruesome threat, but Pete had yet to meet a single one as he wandered into a village in the spring of his second year on the hunt.

As with any community he visited the first stop was the tavern. There was only one thing he wanted, information. If the person, griffon, pony, whatever, that had it wasn't at the tavern then someone at the bar knew where they were. Conversation ceased as he walked in, sword openly worn on his back. Any one of a dozen griffons liked to make a statement about his armed state in the past, but the arrival of the shadow ponies had made weapons common again. Many that would have made a comment turned back to their drinks, the rest didn't care about his sword.

“I know you,” a voice shouted from the far end of the room. “You're that human thing, aren't ya? Got out of Equestria just before it turned into Tartarus itself.”

“Yeah, I did, and I am.” Pete walked to the middle of the building and raised his voice. “I'll make this short. I'm looking for information. I have spent the last year searching this whole side of the globe for a single thing. A damn crater from thousands of years ago that was caused by a rock falling from the sky. Does anyone know about any myths or legends from anywhere about something like that?”

Myths and legends were what he had to resort to now. All facts and confirmed stories had turned up nothing. At one point he had used an old pre Equestrian map to see if there were any landscape differences, and there were, as well as a few old town names. Either changed or abandoned. It, along with the journal, had given him a better idea of where to search. He knew he was in the right place. He just needed to find where this rock had landed.

“I might know a guy,” a chubby looking griffon at the bar said, “But you ain't getting it for free.”

Pete shrugged. It was never that easy anyway.

“What do you want then?”

“I live near the edge of town, right? And we've had a couple sightings of those pony monsters in the woods. A good night's sleep would be nice. One where I don't have to worry about being attacked in my sleep.”

“Let me guess, small town, no guards?”

“They all left to maintain the border,” a barmaid chimed in with a scowl. “Those monsters took my best customers mind you.”

“All right. I'll go run them off.”

“Kill em.”

“Or that. Whatever it takes.”

Pete walked back out the door and made for the woods. The sunlight didn't bother the shadow creatures, from what he had heard, but they did prefer the darkness. Caves, forests, but it by no means stopped them from chasing anyone into the light. He hoped their numbers were few. Fighting a group of unknown enemies wasn't tactically advantageous, and they were complete unknowns to him. He drew his sword as he entered the forest, ready for anything.

It was dead silent. A sure sign something was wrong in the woods. Birds that should have been chirping, animals running around, but there was nothing. Silently he began putting gashes into the trees with his blade. It didn't dull, as he had learned in the guard, so there was no worry about cutting wood with it. He would need a trail to find the village again once he was done and it was the simplest solution. Maintaining a straight line was difficult, but it was better than wandering and getting lost intentionally.

An hour passed without a sight of anything, shadowy or otherwise, before he found them. Four creatures, definitely pony shaped, but they were entirely black. They even lacked eyes. It was as if someone had ripped a shadow off the wall, given it three dimensional form, and set it loose. Featureless and haunting, except for the existence of a mouth. Why these things needed mouths Pete didn't want to know. Instead he took a deep breath and ran straight for them.

They reacted as soon as he began moving, leaping out of the way as though they were filled with helium, floating and landing without noise. A high pitched hissing noise came from their maws and they lunged. Something stopped Pete from swinging his sword though. Despite their terrifying appearance they also resembled ponies and he found himself conflicted. Instead he swung a fist, landing a solid blow to one's face. Another bit into his arm as he dodged to the side to avoid the other two that were aiming for his center of mass. Angrily he slammed the one on his arm into a tree. It let go and laid prone on the forest floor. Three left.

One charged, head down, and Pete met it with his knee. Sharp pain rocketed through his leg, but he pushed on, grabbing the shade in a headlock and lifting it with ease. Despite their speed and silent movement they were quite heavy. Pony weight at least. The thought made him worry about hurting them. Perhaps they were ponies, corrupted by the dark bubble over Equestria. As carefully as he could he knocked the second shadow out, tossing it aside and looking at the two remaining ones.

Though they lacked eyes he could feel them watching him. They waited, stock still. Pete put himself into a ready stance. Making the first move could go poorly. Light shone through the trees and cast over the shadows, highlighting their unnatural looks. It was like staring into a black hole and equally as unnerving.

“Well,” he mustered, “Come on!”

Intimidated or their task completed, the shadows suddenly vanished. They didn't run away or teleport. Like smoke they poofed into nonexistence, including the ones he had beaten unconscious. Shakily he sheathed his sword and limped back to town. He hoped the information the griffon had was good. Pete wasn't nearly as proficient with healing magic as a doctor unicorn would be, so the scar the bite mark on his arm was going to leave needed to be worth something.

“I'm rather impressed, human,” the griffon muttered as Pete walked in and sat down on a chair that was clearly too low for him. It beat standing. “We heard the things screeching from here.”

“Why, because I fought some pony sized shadows? No big deal.” It was, but his reputation as the Dread Captain of Luna's guard still hung around griffon lips. Protecting that did him favors from time to time.

“Well, I'd say you earned your information. There's an old hermit that lives out across the way, to the West. Crazy coot says he saw a lake drain itself one time and fill back up the next day. Like magic. No one believes him though.”

Pete blinked. A magically draining lake? It certainly sounded like it was worth checking out. “How far out is he?” He had to know; his leg still ached.

“Not far, a couple miles. Assuming those monsters didn't get him.”

Another complication Pete hadn't thought of. The wilderness was getting more dangerous with those creatures about. He thanked the griffon and stood up, making his way West towards the hermit. It was already midday and he didn't like the idea of staying out in the dark with those shadows around. Despite his gusto and healing magic the trip was slow going. Pete didn't know how to heal injuries he couldn't see, so the pain in his leg stayed as he walked.

It was a nice day all things considered, unfortunately Pete no longer considered all things. Even his pain, invasive as it was, only registered partially on his mind. He had suffered many injuries on his travels, and he was certain there were more to come with the advent of these new creatures. He couldn't let it get to him now though. Not with a new lead only an hour away, not as long as he had some hope to cling to.

The dirt road twisted and curved around several natural barriers, boulders and the like, but eventually it led to his destination. A cottage away from civilization, bringing up bad memories of the past that he had to shake away as he approached. It didn't matter, in the worst case he would have his revenge. His hope for that lied within the elderly griffon outside the cabin.

“Hold it right there,” the griffon shouted upon seeing the human. “I don't know what you are, but you need to leave.”

“I don't need to come any closer than this,” Pete shouted back, “Some folks at the tavern said you saw a lake drain one time? Like magic? I want to hear about that.”

The old griffon's eyes shifted around for a moment, questioning if it was a prank. After a moment of decision he spoke, “I was on a trip up near the capital. There's this big lake up there, nearly an ocean. Camped out one night to catch some fish, but around midnight the whole thing turned empty. I went to find someone to tell it to, but by the time we got back the next morning it was full again.”

Pete pulled out his map and examined it. The griffon capital was near the coast. Certainly it had a large lake nearby, but he and Rainbow had avoided it for several reasons. Pete's reputation for one, and the griffon's general hostility towards ponies for another. It was possible, but how could no one have found this place if it was in such a well trodden spot? It was his only lead. He had to follow it.

Thanking the old griffon Pete started towards the capital of the griffon's. At his current rate it would take him almost a month to get there, and twice as long to return to Equestria. An ache in the back of his mind reminded him that time didn't matter any more, that Rainbow Dash, and perhaps even Stellar Glow, were dead by now. He remained as optimistic as he could though. They might be captured, waiting for rescue, in which case time mattered greatly. Every second he spent could be agony for them. It burned in his stomach and pushed him on.

Weeks later, alone on the road, a group of shadow ponies approached him. Their actions had become more open and he had gotten used to fighting them. The way they always vanished bothered him, but it kept him from using lethal force. After all, if they could be stopped without it why waste the time and energy? Despite his soft approach the shades were far from reciprocating. They fought hard every time he encountered them. Another reputation had built up around him after his outing in the forest. Apparently few were strong enough to defeat the beasts. It didn't make sense to Pete, but he took it in stride. Anything to further his goals.

Five of them approached, spreading out slowly in a semi circle, their mouths hissing lowly. If they were capable of speech it was never clear. Mostly they hissed and bit. Pete took up a ready stance and waited. He found it best to let them make the first move due to their speed at retreat. Baiting them into an attack, making them commit in a way they couldn't easily evade from, that was what brought them down. They masked this weakness, if they were truly capable of thought, by moving as one. Four advanced, a mixture of leaps and dashes, while one waited off to the side to capitalize on any mistakes the human made.

Pete dodged right, away from the waiting shadow, and swiftly booted one of the runners in the face. It hissed as it flew back and rolled along the ground. His legs had always been a strength and all of the walking the past year had only improved them. However, the creatures were now on either side of him, a basic pincer. The kicked one recovered, rising silently to add to the number at his back. Three in front, two behind. Guard training didn't cover multiple combatants very well. The idea had always been to fight as a group, singling out opponents while keeping your ally's movements in mind. The Equestrians had the largest army in the world after all, troop numbers were large enough it was rare for oppositions to match them. He was the one outnumbered now.

They charged, all five at once this time. Pete decided to break through the two at his back, spinning around and rushing them. Putting all five back on one side of him would help. He aimed for the one he'd already kicked, lunging and bringing his knee to its face. Rather than try and land he allowed himself to fall onto the creature, dragging it and sliding along the ground with it before throwing it towards the others. His hands were scuffed from the slide, but the adrenaline kept the pain away.

Pick off the weak ones, thin their numbers. Military tactics began to sound predatory as he thought about his next move. It was how animals hunted after all. Hit the slowest, the youngest, the ones easiest to take down first.

They rushed again, the injured one hanging back. To avoid being surrounded again Pete decided to push through the four, attacking the straggler, and perhaps even taking it down in the process. As he darted towards them things went wrong. One suddenly went low and bit into his calf. Whatever it had instead of teeth were as sharp as a bear trap and clenched just as hard. He was almost certain he heard his leg break. No amount of adrenaline could mask the pain and he screamed. In seconds the others were on top of him and finally instinct won out over his decision to avoid killing whatever these things may be.

Sword freed from its sheath he struck down, bashing the one on his leg with the hilt and freeing himself. Changing the sword into the dagger he leaped backwards, wincing as he landed from the bloody wound in his leg. It needed healing. The shades regrouped as Pete regenerated the damage to his leg. The bone inside wasn't fully healed, but it was manageable at least. He had one final ace. With his sword out and magic on the table there was one surefire way to finish the fight without danger. He began channeling and chanting the spell for the same fireball he'd started his magic lessons with. His abilities had improved since then and with enough force the spell could be devastating.

One of the shades, the most injured, jumped towards him as he chanted. Perhaps, he thought cockily, it was seeking to take the brunt of the attack and give its comrades time to finish him. He wasn't going to give them the chance. At the same moment he began to release the spell the shade bit down on his dagger, and everything went wrong.

His spell broke and he reeled backwards from the recoil, letting go of his blade. It no longer resembled a blade of any kind though. Once more it was darkness, writhing tendrils like when it snaked up his arms, and the shadow gnawed on the mouthful of darkness, a disgusting, putrid scent pervaded the air accompanied by sickening squelching sounds. Like someone was eating raw meat, not just hamburger, but guts and entrails. After a moment the beast swallowed and his weapon was lost. Pete stared in shock as a pair of giant yellow eyes began to emerge from the once flat areas where eyes should have been all along. They were without iris, and they were wholly unnatural on the creature. Its head moved to look at him, if it could see now, and jittered as it did. Moving as if it were a failing animatronic.

“Peeeeeteeee,” it hissed audibly in a high pitched, almost whiny voice. Without taking a breath, as if the air had always been in its lungs and it only now had a way to let it out, the beast screeched again. Its voice unnatural, shrill, and scratchy. “Peeeeeeeeeeeeteeeeeeeeeeeee!” It screamed his name over and over, methodically, incessantly.

Pete scrambled back, never taking his eyes off the now screaming monster. How could he? It approached in equal steps, gaining on him slowly, until the four other shades pounced on it. The four creatures began to eat the screaming one, it was the only way to describe it. Their mouths ripped into it, peeling darkness away to reveal more darkness, and eventually nothing. Pete's name was shouted into the air even as the beast's comrades or brethren killed it. It didn't move, it didn't struggle, it screamed louder and louder until finally it had nothing left to scream with. Gone, gulped down with the same sounds it had made consuming his sword, his fragment of Nightmare. Pete was more than alone now, he was powerless.

Fear pierced his heart and he fled. How or if he could get away it didn't cross his mind. He simply ran, his own name screeched from that monstrous mouth echoing in his ears. His leg erupted with pain as he ran but nothing would slow him down. He would willingly let it shatter into pieces if it got him away from those creatures. The road stretched on for over a mile, and by that point he was tired, but he kept running. Eventually a town came into view on the horizon and he practically collapsed inside its walls.

A group of griffons surrounded him and carefully poked around him. At some point they decided he was safe and took him to an inn for rest. By that point he would have been fine with being killed. His leg was certainly broken again, and his entire body ached worse than it ever had during training. Worst of all was the screaming in his mind. It didn't stop. Even with the creatures no where around, even with the only one to ever say anything dead, it echoed in his mind. Haunting and sinister. A scream of loathing and need.

“You're that human,” a female griffon demanded as soon as Pete woke up.

“Yeah,” he looked around and clutched at his head. He had not slept well. “Where am I?”

“A town called Gyra. Founded by my great, great, great, grandmother, Gyra.”

Pete winced. Gyra was his next stop on the map.

“Did anything follow me here?”

The griffon raised an eyebrow. “Nothing that our troops saw. Was something following you?”

“Yeah, some of those fucking monsters.”

She nodded slowly, “We thought it was something like that. The gate is closed for tonight, but we want you to leave in the morning. Nothing that attracts those things is welcome here.”

“Why'd you even bother taking me in?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

“Speaking of guts, my leg is kind of messed up. Any chance you can get it looked at before I leave? The better health my legs are in, the farther I can run.”

The griffon smirked, “You get what you want, we get what we want. I'll see what our physician can do.”

While Pete laid in bed, stuck in the simple room of wood planks and candle light, he figured it was time to do more reading on Eclipse. He had taken his time with the journal before but with recent events it came to his mind again. Knowing was half the battle after all. Information was often the deciding factor in many wars and he was painfully unaware of Eclipse's abilities to say the least. His monsters just ate a fragment of Nightmare Moon after all.

An interesting section of the journal talked about when the ancestors of the Princesses arrived. They openly demonstrated the ability to move the sun and moon, to the amazement of everypony around. Unlike Eclipse they did not ask for worship. They asked for peace among the various pony tribes, warning that if peace could not be achieved something terrible would happen. Clearly, to Pete, they were referring to the windigos that froze Equestria in the past that were only defeated by the fires of friendship. Their mentions however were vague and were off putting to some.

Many unicorns were hesitant about the idea, Eclipse vehemently denounced the alicorns as abominations for having traits of all the races, but many were convinced they were gods. That made sense to Pete after everything he Luna had done. Her ability to make new bodies and transfer souls seemed much more plausible to a being outside of the natural realm. Eclipse, later in his journal, had to agree. He fought the alicorns and lost, despite all of his power and training. Ego was the reason they were gods to him, however, because only a god could have possibly outwitted, out done his magic.

So he began working on a device that he claimed would enhance his magic hundred fold. The very device Pete was seeking. Eclipse fled his village, no need to fear the burning sun as the alicorns took their duties moving it and the moon. He described his newly created hideout in great detail. The crater it was in, the magic infused meteorite he found at the bottom that would become the device, the mountain range to the North.

Quickly Pete checked his map. Mountains were the slowest pieces of land to shift or change over time. Lakes near mountains. His current destination, the lake the allegedly drained itself certainly fit the possibility. So did a dozen other lakes, some he hadn't checked yet. The list narrowed further and hope renewed. He would have his revenge.

Screams drew Pete's attention outside. Tucking away his possessions into a crude knapsack he'd purchased long ago, he stood and looked out the window. Several shadow creatures were inside the town, marching towards the inn. He could feel their eyes, or whatever they had instead, watching him through the window. They knew where he was. It was possible they had always known. The guards outside fought, a couple managing to defeat some of the creatures, but they were fast, resilient, and coordinated. Several griffons lay dead in the street and Pete couldn't stand there any more. If they wanted him, they would get him.

Anger clouding his vision and mind, Pete stepped out of the inn, drawing the attention of the shadows immediately. They moved, slowly, jerking like the one with eyes had, towards him. He had no weapon, hopelessly outnumbered, and there was only one thing on his mind. Kill.

He channeled and chanted loudly, thrusting his left arm forward, fully aware of what was going to happen. The explosion rocketed him backwards into the stone wall of the inn, his back making a sickeningly loud crack on impact, causing him to scream even louder than his now missing left arm did. A teleport had once cost him his forearm, the fire magic had cost him his entire arm. Even his shoulder was missing. The smoke cleared and there were a half dozen burned shades, but a half dozen was a dozen too few. Pete tried to stand but his legs wouldn't move. He was paralyzed. Arm missing, legs nonfunctional, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Rage still burned inside of him. So much left undone. Visions of Eclipse standing in Canterlot laughing as the bastard learned of his death filled Pete's mind. With the last of his strength he raised his right arm and began to channel again, the strongest spell he knew. Wide spread destruction was certain. It would kill him, but it would send a message.

That's right, that delicious rage and hate. That primal desire. Kill! Get your revenge! The creature that had called itself an Aspect appeared on the edge of Pete's vision. Do you want power? More than that spell, more than any spell you've ever seen or heard of. The power to take your revenge, seize it with your own two hands.

It was what Pete wanted more than anything. To choke the life from Eclipse with his bare hands. Knees on his chest, fingers crushing his throat. Like he had wanted to do years ago to that griffon.

The Aspect walked forward, reaching down and lifting Pete with a single claw. Then give in to the rage, accept your hate. As long as you sustain me I will sustain you. We will be one and the same.

Pete looked at the Aspect, a hatred in his eyes he had never felt before. Deals with the devil never ended well, but a life of damnation for his revenge sounded fair. The Aspect grinned at the human's acceptance. It vanished suddenly, leaving Pete weak and leaning against the wall, his legs shaking. But he was standing. Strength returned to his body. He stood up straight and took a step forward, his legs worked. A warmth spread through is body, his muscles bulged, his destroyed arm reconstructed itself. Bone grew out, tendons and muscle forming around it, and then finally flesh. His body shook with a mix of pain and relief. He looked at his hands which now shaped into claws, black as night, and scales spread across his body. He could feel the changes happening all over. Muscles, size, clothes that fit ripped into pieces, his skin became scaly and dark to match his claws.

Pete watched as the corrupted shades backed away from his new form. A breeze blew on his midriff, confirming his larger size as he realized how much more focused he was. His eye sight was better than ever. Details invisible to most were razor sharp even in the dark, every muscle in his body was under his control. And he knew because he could feel each individual one. He felt powerful, intoxicatingly so. The Aspect was right, he could feel more power in this form than any spell he'd ever tried. Experimentally he flexed his claws and arms. It drew the attention of both himself and his attackers.

“Like a dragon,” he mumbled to himself, even his voice was deeper now. “This had better be worth it.”

Relax, it will be. Go ahead. Try it out on those husks. Your friends are dead. The voice of the Aspect was cold and factual. You know it as well as I do. Whatever blotted out the sun in Canterlot was stronger than Celestia. It wouldn't have let the Elements of Harmony escape. If they aren't dead they're in chains, tortured, or worse. Release your rage, Pete Powell. Feed me and my strength shall be your own.

A heat rose in the back of Pete's throat, an anger he'd never felt. Months of loss filled his mind, images of friends and loved ones injured or dead. His pupils contracted, a familiar feeling but oh so different this time. He didn't fight it. Anger flowed through is body and he roared, a sound that wouldn't have been out of place from a dragon's maw. This was what it was like to let loose. To allow emotion and instinct to rule. Claws tore into shadowy flesh, unearthly howls spilled from mouths that had been silent for years. All of it was drown out by a series of deafening roars from Pete.

The first shade he grabbed tried to bite but its teeth failed to penetrate his new hide. With a scowl the new Pete grabbed it by the head, his hand now large enough for such an act, and crushed it. The shade turned into goop that quickly vanished into smoke. Another attacked him from behind, but he could hear it now. They were light, but now he could hear everything. Voices gasping from streets over, watching the monsters fight in their city, insects outside the city even. He turned and punched the shadow, knocking it down. He stood and raised a clawed foot, his shoe hanging to it in tatters, which he slammed down with enough force to crack the stones under the pony shaped foe. The spectators recoiled as Pete loosed another loud roar. With his rage building he felt new changes taking place. Leathery wings sprouted from his back which he began to use to devastating effect. One creature he launched with a flick of his wing and then impaled on his claw. Another he pulled in close, unbalancing it from a leap and slamming it to the ground.

It felt good. To slaughter these creatures that had hounded him all day, that harassed the rightful inhabitants of the world. He was angry, and perhaps his violence was too far, but he wasn't wrong. A realization formed in his primal mind as he literally tore the final shade in half. Anger at losing his friends and family, his home taken over, his life stolen, ruined. There was nothing wrong with what he felt. It was natural. What he had spent his time suppressing was nature. No more.

You're a beast of desire now, kid. You don't need any more, you want. So tell me, tell the world. What do you want?

“Revenge,” Pete growled, walking over to his packed sack and lifting it like nothing. His old items, easily four pounds of weight, were like air.

He looked to the sky, the mountain range in the distance where the lake he was heading for before was. A chuckle accompanied images flowing into his mind. Wings flapping, movements, angles. How to fly.

I live to serve.

Pete released a pleased growl, a sound he strangely liked to hear. Wings spread behind him and he took off. Awkwardly at first, but he quickly got the hang of it. He had always wanted to fly of his own power, not with magic but wings of his own. Now he could. It had cost him too much.

“I'm coming, Eclipse. I won't die until I hold your warm, beating heart in my hand, and smash it.”

Author's Note

Two