Archangel Of The Rebellion - A New Lunar Republic Fanfiction

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
The rest
Abortion
NEW CHAPTER WHAT - Chapter 20
Prologue

Chapter 1

Bright and vivid, the moon was a curious shade of orange, large and only partially visible behind the towering and intimidating skyscrapers. The air was warm and humid, the concrete pathways of the metropolis of Canterlot were still damp from the heavy rain the previous afternoon. Huge billboards loomed over the main road through the centre of the city, very few of them advertising products, but instead overflowing with propaganda, totally unnecessary of course, there was no choice of governments, not any more. Many of the posters were torn or blown down, and the majority of the billboards had been defaced. The letters NLR scrawled across the face of the triumphant empress. Celestia.

A lone figure walked briskly along the pavement, the only movement in view, an olive green pony with a deep, dark shade of blue for his mane and tail, his eyes were tired and his coat was dull and stained with oil. He looked at his watch, it was nearly curfew hour. He quickened his pace.

Two soldiers appeared around the corner of the nearest building, laughing. The figure looked at the floor as they approached and the soldiers stopped their joking immediately. The figure continued walking.

“Getting late isn’t it?” Jeered the guard nearest to the figure. He didn’t show any recognition that anything had happened.

“Hey! You will speak when you’re spoken to, you worthless piece of crap!” The same soldier shouted. The figure stopped abruptly and looked begrudgingly up at the thugs.

“Yes sir” he said half mockingly.

“You insolent –.” The first guard began.

“We could just shoot him now, say it was past curfew, nopony would know.” The second soldier suggested.

“Not worth it, he won’t last much longer with an attitude like that anyway.” The first soldier replied, he spat at the figure’s feet and the other guard gave an agreeing grunt before they walked away.

The figure allowed a sigh of relief when the soldiers were out of earshot. He checked his watch again, 10:28.

He knew he was liable to be shot on sight after 10:30, so he broke into a gallop to get back to his flat in time.

With seconds to spare the figure stopped, panting, in the lobby of the residential building in which he lived and sighed again at the sight of the flight of stairs that he had to climb. No lifts here, lifts are too good for the scum that sleep in this place.

After several minutes the figure was getting close to his floor, so he stopped to gaze out of the window. Before him was the vast cityscape of Canterlot, now totally shrouded in darkness save for the soft glow of the full moon. The figure stood up on his hind legs and put his forehoof on the pane of glass. Outside there was the manufacture district, the mysterious figure could see his place of work, the huge munitions factory.

Many of the commodity factories had started manufacturing weapons now; the war was getting out of hand since the Chaos Dominion had showed up. They had no goals--, their only plan was to remove order from the world. To bring about chaos eternal. Recently they had started random terror attacks within the city and flashing lights could be seen dotted around the financial district, several banks had been targeted. The Chaos Dominion clearly wanted the collapse of the Equestrian Bit to escalate faster than it already was.

On the precipice of the high city was the fabled Canterlot Castle. It could hardly be called a castle any more, it wasn’t vaguely like the ponytale castles of old, it wasn’t even made of stone anymore. The gargantuan metal fortress took up most of the city’s resources, and nobody knew what went on inside, some said they were testing biological weaponry, others that they were constructing bombs that could raze entire cities to dust. Probably both, and almost certainly even worse.

Below the fortress was the low city, sprawled out at the bottom of the mountain that Canterlot stood on. It was mostly just one huge slum, the houses dilapidated and the few skyscrapers unsafe, some looking ready to topple. Towards the edge, the low city slowly turned into a shantytown, with hoof-built one-room houses with whole families in them. This part of the city spread it’s arms out wide to the nearby countryside, which could hardly be called country anymore, the fields were brown and yellow and didn’t grow anything any more. Ravaged by over farming and lack of crop rotation the fields were useless. Further away from the urban sprawl a few apple trees could still be seen, although they were withered and never bore much fruit, the all but collapsed farm buildings weren’t lived in any more, their residents moved into the city generations ago, starving, and expected a better life. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

The figure started suddenly, waking up from his depressing daydream, dropped down on all four hooves again and shook his head, raising his mane from it’s position tight against his neck. The figure looked down at his stained and oily coat, he hadn’t washed for days, water was too valuable. With yet another sigh he continued up the stairs towards his small family flat.

As the figure walked along the corridor, past the rows of doors, he heard screams. This didn’t phase him much though. It was a cruel world, panic attacks and nervous breakdowns were rife, and even worse, the government often sent out house raids, especially to places like these, using excuses like tax evasion even though it is clearly just another way of controlling the populous by instigating terror. He shuddered at the thought.

The figure began to worry as he continued along the grimy passage, as the screams were coming from the vicinity of his home, a cold sweat broke out on his brow as he tried to talk himself out of the possibility of something terrible happening to his family. There was a battle raging in his mind, optimism versus realism. The closer he got to his door, the stronger realism became. As he got to door 583, realism destroyed optimism, tore out its heart and ate it.

Right behind the door the screams and sobs could be heard clearly. The figure stood outside, his mouth agape, wondering what to do. He surely had to go in to save his family, but that would get him killed too, but at least that would be better than life without them, but that would be stupid. His mind raced through all possible options, and rejected all of them. His breathing sped up and his heart began to pound. The figure tried to stop himself from panicking, but it just made him panic more. He was sobered suddenly though, when he heard more voices from behind the door.

“how d’ya like that, you stupid bitch.” Said a gruff, but soft voice from behind the door. The sobbing continued, unfaltered. “Not much of a talker, are ya?” said the same jeering voice.

“oh just get off her and give me a go, you stupid faggot.” Said a second, deeper voice.

“What? You’ve already had a go!” returned the first voice.

“Fine, just hurry up and interrogate her already, you’ve been ages.” The second voice replied.

“Whatever, I’m getting to that bit.” Said the first voice, followed by a soft thud and a scream. “Listen here, you stupid bitch, we’ve had our fun now tell us what we came here to find out.” The sobbing faltered and stopped and a cracked voice replied,

“I swear, we haven’t done a-anything wrong, we’ve paid all our ta-taxes.

The mysterious figure instantly recognised the voice as his wife’s, and it brought him back to his senses, but he still felt powerless to do anything, his legs refused to do what he told them any more.

“You lying cunt!” exclaimed the second voice, followed by a cracking sound and a long, drawn out scream.

“Where’s your husband!” yelled the first voice!

“H-he’s still at work.” Replied a quiet voice, broken by sobs. There was no sound but another long scream.

The figure heard quiet crying from the flat opposite his own, but it was quickly stopped.

“Likely story, it’s curfew now. You want to tell the truth yet, bitch?” inquired the first voice angrily.

“Maybe he’s already dead, might have been late from work.” The second voice said. They both chuckled.

“Whatever” the first voice grunted, “Do you want to do the honours?”

“Alright, if you insist. You never liked this bit did you?” the second voice replied flatly.

“Not if I’ve got a choice, always creeps me out a bit.” The first voice said.

“Pussy.” The second voice answered, followed immediately by a gunshot.

Outside, the figure was close to tears, and the gunshot woke him up. He forgot all common sense and was made fearless by the death of his wife. He rammed the door down and charged at the two soldiers.

“I’ll kill you, bastards!” he yelled at the top of his voice as he kicked the first guard in the small of his back, knocking him forward and smashing his face on the corner of the bed. The second guard pulled out his pistol and shot at the figure, missing his head, but tearing the top of his ear off. He ignored the searing pain on his head and dived towards the second guard, who was still amazed that he had missed and his reactions failed him. The figure slammed into him at top speed and slammed him into a wall knocking them both onto the ground.

“You bastard!” The figure yelled over and over again as he punched the guard repeatedly in the face until it was raw and bleeding and his muzzle was totally destroyed and the guard stopped struggling. The figure climbed off and kicked him in the head for good measure.

“Bastards.” He said once more, but much more quietly. As the figure turned around, his rage completely left as he saw his wife on the floor. Ravaged by the soldiers her body was a mess, her face was heavily bruised and her front left leg was bent and distorted, a shard of bone was protruding through the skin at her elbow and was slowly leaking blood onto the beige carpet of the bedroom. There was a large hole through her right eye socket and the skull had caved in around it, making the right side of her face totally unrecognisable. Around her head was an enormous circular bloodstain in the carpet, with a thick, oozing layer making her consistently well groomed mane into a sticky, stiff mass of hair, separated into strands.

The mysterious figure choked back tears and dreaded walking into his children’s room, but knew that he had to. As he pushed back the door, he retched and nearly vomited, only just holding it back. His two young children had been strung up on the roof, they had stab wounds all over their tiny bodies. The nooses around their necks making the faces turn a dark blue, the eyes were bulging and red.

The figure went back into the bedroom, sat on the bed and cried solidly for several minutes, not trying to stop himself at all like he had been earlier, he no longer had any pride, it was all gone. He didn’t know what to do.

After about half an hour, the figure took the bedsheets off the bed and wrapped up the distorted remains of his beloved family in them, before dragging them outside the door and leaving the few flowers in the flat on top of the makeshift body bags. He then dumped the bodies of the soldiers nearby and scrawled a message on the ground next to them in their own blood, before gathering his few meagre possessions and journeying towards the last beacon of salvation in this cold, corrupt world.

The New Lunar Republic.

Chapter 2

The moon was fading, it's radiance overpowered by the overpowering light and heat of the Sun, which glowed with an atomic splendour that seared the skin of everypony in its involuntary audience. It filled the sky, leaving barely any trace of shade or shelter from its burning rays. The only pony in sight was the lone figure, walking exhaustedly, yet with a conviction that expressed itself through his steely gaze, along the road to Stalliongrad.

Up ahead, he saw a checkpoint. These outposts were pockmarked throughout the Empire, reporting everything and anything that even thought the word "revolution" or "hope".

As he approached the checkpoint, three guards stepped out of the small shelter at the side, slinging their rifles from their backs, and stood menacingly in the centre of the road. The one in the middle spat on the ground.

“Halt, in the name of Celestia!” The middle guard barked. As the figure came closer, he didn’t reply, or even slow down, but continued walking briskly forwards.

“Hey! I was talking to you! Stop there immediately!” The guard shouted as the figure reached the checkpoint. He stopped abruptly right in front of the enormous pony, and looked up at his face. He then stood up on his hind legs to reach the same level and looked into his eyes. The guard chuckled slightly.

“Ha, who do you think you are, tough guy?” he jeered. The other guards grunted and shuffled their feet. The figure cocked his head to the side and smiled, before, in one flowing movement, he pulled out a large knife and stabbed the soldier through his stomach and up into the ribcage, with a gurgle and a splinter, the knife appeared through his back, smeared dark red.

“HOLY SHIT!” screamed the guard on the right, as they both raised their rifles. The figure dropped to the ground and let the barely conscious guard fall on top of him, still supported on the knife blade. The bullets hit the guard and he moaned again, but he choked on his own blood and coughed violently, spraying blood all over the ground, his helmet fell off his head and landed on the gravel track with a scrape. The vibration of the coughing forced the figure to drop the guard, but not before he had taken his sidearm. The other two guards lined up another shot, but before they had time to pull the trigger, the figure shot the right hand one in the torso, causing him to drop his weapon and fall to the ground, screaming and clutching his stomach. This distracted the final guard long enough for the figure to get to somewhere covered. He fired over the road block he had chosen to hide behind but missed, looking at the pistol, he realised that there was only those two bullets in it – ammunition was expensive and there was a lot of soldiers. He threw the gun onto the ground and stopped for a second to think, What the hell am I doing? The thought was quickly dispelled though when he heard gravel crunching, hoofsteps coming his way.

The figure quickly composed himself for the suicidal attack he was about to attempt, after a deep breath he decided that he had nothing to live for, and he went for it. He jumped up suddenly from his hiding spot and charged the startled guard, knocking his rifle onto the floor. Realising what he had just done, the figure relaxed slightly. The guard stood up and punched him in the side of the head. Dazzled on the floor, the soldier managed to get on top of him, after struggling and blocking the guard’s attacks for a few seconds, he looked beyond his assailant and saw an opportunity. The figure used his whole body for momentum, then stamped down as hard as he could on the soldier’s tail with the rim of his hoof. There was an almighty crunch and the punch destined for the figure’s face landed weakly on his cheek. While he had the chance the figure pushed the guard off him. The pony howled in pain, his tail was only supported half way, the other half dropped down and the end dragged along the floor. The figure stood up and kicked the third guard so he fell onto his side, still moaning and sobbing. He stamped on the pony’s gut, making him retch and vomit up large quantities of blood, which also spurted out of his nostrils, before kicking him hard in the neck. He stopped moving completely and flopped onto the gravel road.

Next, the figure moved onto the second guard, who was still sobbing and choking on the ground. He picked him up by his mane and looked into his eyes.

“please, please, don’t hurt me. Please, Please!” The soldier begged, tears streaming from his eyes. The wound in his stomach was raw and gaping, the metal of his armour dented inwards in cruel spikes, blood coming out in spurts from the severed arteries.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any mercy any more.” Replied the figure with gritted teeth. He hit the guard in the bullet wound, causing him to scream out in pain. The figure felt a pang of regret for causing this helpless pony so much suffering, he thought about his family, the way they had been treated. He couldn’t wish that upon anyone in the world. The figure finished off the guard by smashing his face onto the ground, his muzzle crumpled in with a crack and the pony let out one last whimper before going limp in the figure’s hands. The spurts of blood slowed down to a stop.

The olive pony moved onto the final guard, who was stone dead by then, with an extensive pool of blood around his mouth and nose. He pulled the knife out of his stomach, the hole leaked a small amount of blood onto the ground. With the knife he preceded to behead this guard, the biggest and most muscular of the three, and impaled the dripping and contorted face on the shorter of the two flagpoles. Satisfied with his work, the figure walked back over to the second guard and slit his throat, the small amount of remaining blood pressure was enough to leak blood into the figure’s hoof. He then wrote the same message that he had left in the tower block. And with that he cleaned his knife, took a pistol with all the ammunition and continued on the road to salvation.

The nameless pony continued on his way. His thoughts, cold, dark and mysterious like the depths of the coldest oceans, roiled restlessly in the dankest recesses of his mind, reflecting on who-- no, WHAT he had become. He took life without pity or remorse; his sanity pulling slowly out of his reach. He had cast his old life away, including his identity and his name. But he could not stop now. He could not afford to.

During this moment of inner turmoil, he had steadily walked towards the nearest settlement; a small trading town erected as a haven for all those who are trying to build a new life. It stood stalwart, a town by the name of Saddle-Side. The nameless walked somewhat hurriedly to the local tavern, taking note of the obviously poverty-stricken ponies clumped together in the dirt. It was a pony-eat-pony world, and he could not afford to lose what he had to some poor puppet of Celestia's tyranny.

The tavern was surprising to the nameless pony, because unlike any other establishment located outside of Canterlot, it was refreshingly well-furnished and luxuriant. However, that did nothing to uplift the downcast looks on the customers faces; even those with smiles on their faces were strained. The figure moved to the bar, where he ordered a stiff drink. While waiting, he was approached by a plump earth-pony in a dinner jacket.

"Hail, friend!" he boomed with a voice like an actor in an advert for products that were "good, ol' fashioned". (This thought made the nameless pony smile somewhat)

"Hmph" came the grunted reply. If the plump pony took offence, he didn't show it.

"I see you're new to our quaint little town! Is there anything I can assist you with?"

The nameless one pondered the question.

"No, but if you have heard any interesting news recently…"

"Ah, I wouldn't know much about that I'm afraid. However, if I may direct you to that little group over there, you may find what you're looking for."

The obvious disappointment on his face answered every question the figure had.

As he got up, the nameless pony suddenly grabbed the fat bastard by the scruff of his neck.

"I know your kind. The homeless ponies outside? I guess those are the ones you extorted out of all their possessions and wealth in order to buy this shithole of a pub. You don't see customers, you see bags of cash with hooves. You came over to me expecting to suck me dry, but if you come near me again, I will break your fucking neck."

The stranger detached silently and walked past the fat pony, face turned bright red with fear, shock and unexpected guilt, before turning around and throwing his drink at the back of the owner's fat head, knocking him to the floor in a shower of blood and broken glass.

"This drink tastes like shit, too."

The nameless pony walked nonchalantly over to the small knot of ponies, who were sharing details regarding recent events from every corner of Equestria, all while ignoring the attention he received from those who noticed him cave in the head of the bar owner. He took a seat and listened to the ponies of varying backgrounds commentary on the current state of the world. Nothing really caught his attention for a while - after all, with no radio or TV broadcasts besides propaganda that convinced you to murder your entire family (it's more common than you think), most ponies had no real clue what was going on, just theories and speculation - until he heard the words "guards murdered" and "bloody messages" mentioned. It seemed even these ponies had heard of his terrible, psychotic exploits. Also, he realised with a strangled gasp of grief, there was no mention of his family. Another benefit of being a tyrant, he thought venomously.

One more piece of information sang to his ears.

The New Lunar Republic was recruiting.

With that, he jumped and left abruptly. However, on his way to the doors, a group of small children ran up to him. He stopped and turned to appraise them, and noticed they were offering him something. Money. He smiled. From the bar owner's wallet that was clutched in their hands. With a small hesitation, he accepted the gift and left, triumphant over his small victory over his greatest enemy.

Corruption.

Chapter 3

The moon had reached the midpoint of it's eternal cycle once again, providing a cool period of rest for the citizens of Equestria, a momentary break from the thermonuclear temperatures of the day. It was almost exactly the same as that night, Princess Luna thought, the night that I took the weight of the future of Equestria onto my shoulders.

Aside from some extra height, the Sister of the Tyrant looked almost exactly the same as she had that night, 600 years ago. She had maintained her lustrous royal purple mane and deep ebony hide, her impressive appearance matched only by her newfound wisdom and experience. Her face, however, was etched with deep lines of worry, stress and exhaustion. Quite normal considering she has led what seemed like a never-ending war for 6 centuries.

She had been lost in her dreams for hours, before she was brought back to reality, once again, by hoofsteps, though these were the hurried steps of a new recruit, not those of a god-like tyrant. She sighed and opened the great doors of her bedchambers with a slight nod of her head, without turning around. The squat, nervous little messenger pony stumbled over himself while allowing her to take the letter from his saddlebags. She opened the letter and dismissed the messenger, which he did so with relief.

Luna's interest was piqued as she scanned the letter from one of her spies planted in Canterlot. Once again, she had to admit to the usefulness of shape-shifting changelings as infiltrators. The most elite spies on the face of Equestria in return for some payment in the form of "love" every month. Quite unpleasant for those involved, but more than worth it.

The letter detailed the case of a string of murders that led a path from the dark fortress city of Canterlot to practically on her doorstep. The three most intriguing facts:

A) All the victims were Celestian Guards.

B) A family consisting of two children and a mother (father unidentified and in a currently unknown location) were found dead.

C) All the murders had a message written in the victims blood, without exception: CELESTIA WILL BURN.

Very interesting, Luna thought, It seems I will be getting a visitor very soon.

"Umm P-Princess L-Luna?" said a nasally, whiny voice from behind her.

"Hmm?"

The messenger gulped. "Umm, th-there's another m-message for you ma'am!"

Luna carried the second letter telekinetically over to her, where she opened and scanned it. It was an invitation to a meeting with her… mysterious benefactor.

The leader of the group that had offered her their services.

The Executive, CEO of a weapons manufacturer/research and development corporation.

Eque-Sci.

The Canterlot Castle throne room was a sight to behold, it had changed greatly since the days of old, but was no less awe inspiring. The room was incredibly long, and covering almost the entire floor was one enormous rug with Celestia’s sun cutie mark in the centre. On the rug was a huge conference table where the great council would meet to decide laws, This was a farce of course, an outward show to improve Celestia’s appearance in the wider world. The princess’ word was law, If anyone dared to go against it they would pay with their lives. The walls were lined with weaponry, a physical timeline of warfare in Equestria, from swords and maces to laser weapons, everything was there.

The centrepiece of the room, though, was the royal throne, unchanged in centuries, at the far end of the great table. The very essence of purity and serenity, with water flowing through and live fish in the pools of water. Celestia despised it, she had never liked it. But she had to keep up appearances after all, Celestia the pure, goddess of the sun.

No conferences were happening at the moment, everything was going well. The war was under control, with the exception of The Chaos Dominion and Discord’s return, but they were a mere annoyance, and Discord not what he was. They wouldn’t last long. Celestia sat alone in her grand seat, her mane blowing in the wind, still sparkling, Celestia had hardly changed in nearly 2000 years, the only change was her sourness. After ruling for such a long time the princess had become bored and cruel, she only wanted ultimate power, her citizens were simply commodities, she owned them. Celestia had no worries, she didn’t even need to run the country any more, her generals sorted that out for her, all she had to do was give basic orders.

Suddenly the great doors at the opposite side of the room opened wide, glowing with magic, and a fully uniformed high ranking officer marched in, he was dark brown with a greying but still mainly black mane. He held his chin high and had a very stern face.

“Your grand and excellent majesty” he said, bowing and removing his officer’s cap.

“Enough with the grovelling, what do you want now general?” Celestia replied sharply, her eyes fixed on the pony below her.

“We have received news, your excellence, of acts against the regency within the city.” The general said, standing back up.

“what of it, we are attacked all the time, what else can be expected of these stupid ponies.” Celestia retorted.

“This is different ma’ am, 5 of our men are dead, 2 never came back from a routine house break, killed and dumped in the corridor. The husband of the family was never found, we suspect it was him. The other 3 were killed at a checkpoint outside the city, they were all fully armed.” Said the general hesitantly, he was getting uncomfortable in the presence of the princess, she had that effect on ponies.

“So what?” replied Celestia, “our soldiers are killed every day in the war, what makes this any different?”

“Your highness, these men were all killed by the same pony, and he didn’t seem to be armed. He could be very dangerous.” The general answered, sweating by now.

“What makes you so sure these are all the same pony? They could be totally unrelated.” The princess enquired. Becoming increasingly alarmed by the story.

“They both show specific similarities, ma’ am, all the guards were bludgeoned or stabbed, there wasn’t much sign of a struggle and, most alarmingly, in each instance the words “CELESTIA WILL BURN” were written next to the bodies in the blood of the soldiers. We might be looking at a professional here, ma’ am.” The general replied.

“Very well, watch out for this pony, but I don’t think that there’s much to worry about, an individual can hardly cause us much trouble.” Celestia returned. “You may leave.”

“Thank you, your excellence.” Said the general, before turning on the spot and walking quickly back down the room, the doors opening in his wake.

When she was alone again Celestia rose from her throne and walked elegantly over to the balcony.

“This could be interesting.” The princess said to herself as she looked out, surveying her domain.

Chapter 4

While the two great powers in Equestria considered this intriguing news, the nameless pony had moved on from the town of Saddle-Side roughly a few days prior, and was currently treading a path through one of the few remaining forests on the continent; the rest had become barren, lifeless deserts. Even now, the stranger could hear the sounds of great machines and collapsing trees off in the distance. It wouldn't be long before this small oasis went the way of the Timberwolf, he pondered, a citizen of the forest that had disappeared long ago, when industry had blossomed practically overnight throughout Equestria.

Suddenly, the pony froze, realising that while he had been wrapped up in his thoughts, he had driven his body to the absolute limit by walking practically nonstop for almost a week. He didn't really feel anything as this dawned on him, only anger at the fact that his body restraining him. His wrath and lust for vengeance had been driving him onward restlessly, with no patience or pity for anyone who got in his way.

With some difficulty, he dragged his paralysed form over to a fallen tree, where he propped himself up while he recovered and refreshed himself. Swigging at his flask of water, the nameless pony reflected on his progress thus far. He honestly couldn't believe how his old self, a nervous and thoughtful pony who had garnered respect for his fighting ability that he had worked on for years, had become a killing machine with a vendetta that had driven him all the way from Canterlot to Stalliongrad in order to join the New Lunar Republic. He wondered, not for the first time, if the NLR was really worth his support-but he knew deep down that Luna was probably the only hope for this world, and it wasn't like he had any other choice.

From his saddlebags, he produced a collection of papers with writing scrawled all over them, the closest thing he had to a diary, and read through what information he had gathered on the New Lunar Republic on his travels. It was an armed resistance formed from a partnership between Princess Luna, the goddess of the moon, the most powerful equine in Equestria excluding Celestia herself, and a mysterious corporation known as Eque-Sci, a very shady business empire that apparently appeared from nowhere about 600 years ago. The Republic's only goal is to dethrone Celestia and make her pay for her crimes (though horribly painful and violent death is just as good). The NLR possessed power and technology almost equal to The Solar Empire, and their army had snowballed in size as they became famous/infamous and now they had become an unstoppable war machine.

Aside from this, everything else was speculation. There was a preposterous example he'd learned from some stranger about the NLR working with the Changelings. He had scoffed at the idea.

As the moon began to appear over the horizon, the nameless pony gazed at it and thought of Luna, and her army at his destination of Stalliongrad. He looked about him and took in the location, it was all new to him, and didn’t know what to think. The only trees he’d ever seen were in Canterlot’s single park, in the upper class district near the castle. But he’d only seen that from a distance, his sort wasn’t allowed near. As he drifted to sleep, the pony began to remember back to when he had a name, his childhood, the school, the ponies…

The pony walked down the mud street in the direction of the school. In his hoof was a wad of notes, 2 bits, for that day’s education. Few children went to school, times were hard and they had to work to earn money for the family. But his parents had saved up to allow him a chance in life. The pony quickly stuffed them into his pocket, if anyone saw him with money he would be mugged. It had happened before, and the pony had been training himself. Fighting his friends with sticks and hooves, lifting weights, but he still didn’t want to take any chances.

He approached the school, a dilapidated and crumbling building, it looked on the brink of collapse, but the pony still went there every day. Even the middle class of society sent their children here, as nopony knew what would happen tomorrow.

The pony entered the gates and looked at the broken windows and peeling plaster, he sighed deeply and joined the small group of foals in the corner of the yard.

“Hey!” piped one of the group. The others turned around to face the pony. They smiled and welcomed him into the circle.

“Hi everypony, how’s it going?” he replied.

“We were just talking about the war!” the smallest pony said, in a very high voice.

“Yeah! I’ve heard the NLR has attacked Trottingham!” said another, very enthusiastically.

“They told me that they were using the foals for target practice!” Said another, jumping into the air.

“And they were burning the houses!” Another joined in.

“And throwing the old ponies into the fires!”

“Forcing the ponies to make guns!” They all joined in, shouting accusations of war crimes all at the same time.

“Oh shut up!” boomed the nameless pony, he was bigger than most and the others abruptly stopped talking.

“Don’t tell me you believe all this crap.” He said bluntly “Look around you, armed guards patrol the streets, no one can leave the city.” He said. The others stared blankly.

“So wait, what… What are you saying?” One of the smaller foals replied.

“What I’m saying is that…” he lowered his voice, “I’m not denying that the NLR is evil, but I don’t think everything that we’re being taught is completely true.”

“Whatever.” One of the other foals said, before they went back to babbling on about war atrocities. The nameless pony sighed and looked the other way. The schoolmaster appeared in the doorway.

“To lessons everyone!” He shouted, then returned through the doorway that he had emerged from.

After 2 hours of “If you could kill a rebel every second, how many could you kill in 2 minutes” The foals were released to eat their lunches. The pony opened his cloth bag to reveal his meagre dinner: A 3 day old half-apple and a hoofful of oats. It might not have been much but the pony was very grateful for it, as some of his classmates had no food at all, and he wolfed it down quickly.

As he was finishing, a hulking blue pegasus pony with a black mane sauntered over to the him, the fattest in the school and sturdily built, he had a very mean face.

“Well well well, look who’s over here. Got your fee today I trust?” He sneered, bringing his face close to the nameless pony’s.

He thought for a moment about what to do, when an idea popped into his head. It was risky, but had to be done sometime.

“Not for you I haven’t, fatty.” He said sharply, glaring at the brutish blue pony.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, my friend. You’re going to regret that for a long time.” He replied, standing up on his hind legs.

“Come at me bro!” The nameless pony said while also standing up and outstretching his front legs.

The bully threw a punch at him, but made the move too obvious, and the olive green pony stepped out of the way, grabbed his foreleg and twisted it behind his back. He let out a slight whimper and had a startled look on his face. A small crowd gathered.

“You were saying?” the nameless pony snarled into his ear. He kicked the blue pegasus away, but held onto his foreleg so that he spun around so they were facing each other, the limb groaned and he whimpered again. The nameless pony punched him hard in the face and blood spurted out of his nose onto his face. He then stumbled back and fell onto the floor. The pegasus rolled over, crying and clutched his nose.

The crowd began to cheer and the nameless pony stood startled at his own skill, he was confident that he could take the bully, but not so conclusively.

“Wow! Look at his flank!” piped one of the foals.

“Woah! That’s the coolest cutie mark ever!” yelled another, they all huddled in closer to see.

“Cool.” Was the only thing the nameless pony said when he finally got a chance to look down his side at the newly formed cutie mark. It was a shield, and behind were two crossed swords. He was happy at the time because he knew his life would be interesting, though he wouldn’t describe it as such any more.

The schoolmaster suddenly appeared from the single door into the building, he was still holding a book.

“What’s going on here? Tell me what’s happened.” He demanded angrily.

The foals all looked at each other with the same message on their faces: Run!

“What in Celestia’s name…” he began as he examined the unconscious bully, before realising that everyone else had disappeared.

The nameless pony woke with a start, it was nearly dawn, and gnawing at his hind-hooves was a small furry animal. The pony was startled, as he had never laid eyes on such a creature before. The pure white rabbit, noticing that he was awake, suddenly ran off into the woods, disappearing from sight. The nameless pony suddenly felt crestfallen that this intriguing new creature, the likes of which he had never seen before, had ran away from him in fear. The pony shook away these thoughts, picked himself up and continued on his journey, deciding that the night was as good a time as any.

Chapter 5

The mysterious figure continued on his way under the soft light of the beautiful full moon. The forest seemed to come alive around him, shadows became spectres and owls became dragons. The figure kept his wits about him, he had never fought a wild animal before and didn’t know how. His aching legs somehow dragged him over the crest of a large hill, wet with fallen leaves. At the top, the pony stopped and caught his breath, his lungs felt ready to burst and his legs were as heavy as lead.

As he looked up, the figure saw the great walled city of Stalliongrad. A fortress city, thousands of years old, the centrepiece was a grand spired metal castle, it looked like a very slender, shining mountain cluster in the middle of the town. The walled city was neat and intimidating, but it had gone the same tragic route of Canterlot, outside the walls was a city twice the size of the walled area, and half as impressive. It had only one or two storey houses, most with broken or boarded windows, and rife with drug dealing, prostitution and other crimes. Not as exaggerated as Canterlot though, there was no shantytown and the population was managed, but there was a war going on, and most of the funds had to go towards that, the wellbeing of the people came second. That said, the people were the very reason the war was happening, Luna was fighting for their freedom.

The figure smiled for the first time in days when he saw his destination come into view, it may have looked disappointing but he felt like he hadn’t seen anything more uplifting in all his life, the determined pony had nearly finished his journey.

As the figure approached the gates into the walled city, he gazed at the huge archway, looming threateningly overhead, the stone replaced by thick steel decades ago. He shuddered as he thought about what they were keeping out.

In front of the gate were two guards, they were very intimidating. Both of them had navy blue coats and black manes, their eyes had slit pupils, such that they resembled a cat’s, with little emotion in them. The most intriguing feature about these ponies however, was that their wings resembled a bat’s, not a pegasus’, unable to fold them down like a pegasus too. The wings stuck up out of the ponies’ backs and twitched every now and again, The figure kicked himself for seeing them as just another weakness. He walked up towards them.

“Halt! What business have you here?” cried one of the guards, raising a hoof in front of him.

“I wish to join the rebel army of the new lunar republic, take me to the princess.” The nameless pony demanded.

“Ha, good luck with that. But you’re going to have to go to the recruitment office like everypony else if you want to join the army.” Replied the guard. “You may enter.”

“Well I suggest that you tell her I’m here.” Said the figure. He then grabbed the knife from the guard’s belt, turned around and embedded it into a fencepost 300 metres away. He turned back to face the guard, whose eyes were widened with shock, and walked past him into the city. The first guard trotted over to the second and whispered into his ear, “This could be the archangel, tell the princess.” The second guard galloped away to the castle.

Princess Luna was sitting serenely in her modest throne, a bench compared to Celestia’s great chair, she was discussing war progress and tactics with her general, Dragonheart.

“our new stronghold at Trottingham is coming under heavy fire from both Solar Empire forces and the Chaos Dominion, it is a very tactical location and –.” The general reported.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Snapped Luna, she was growing impatient with the pony, he seemed to have caused her more problems than he had solved.

“Well, if we –” Dragonheart began, before he was interrupted by a royal guard galloping down the centre of the room, his hoofsteps echoing off the high ceiling. The general sighed and left the room.

“Your majesty.” He panted, bowing, “He may have arrived.”

“Are you sure?” Luna asked, rising from her throne.

“We cannot be certain, your highness.” He replied, rising from his kneeling position.

“Frisk him and send him in here, I would like to… examine him.” The princess said, a thin smile crossing her lips.

The nameless pony was on his way to the recruitment station when the two soldiers from the gate intercepted him.

“Stop there. The princess wishes to see you.” The first guard said, glaring at the figure.

“Come with us.” The second guard continued, “we’re gonna’ have to frisk you I’m afraid, up on the wall.” The pony obliged and allowed the guards to check him for explosives or weapons, they rummaged through his saddlebags, before stopping suddenly.

“We’re going to have to look after this for a while.” Said the second guard, holding up the impressive blade to the sky. “Where’d you get this from anyway?” he enquired.

“Family heirloom.” Replied the nameless pony bluntly. “You’d better give it back.”

“Yeah yeah, come with us now.” He answered, turning around and flicking his head to the side.

The doors to the palace throne room opened magically and the nameless pony entered, flanked by the two guards. At the other end of the room, The majestic princess Luna gazed at him intently. Her face was stern.

“Who in Equestria do you think you are?” She shouted, “What are you doing in my city? Did my sister send you here?” Luna’s eyes burned with rage. “You pose a direct threat to me and my subjects, GUARDS! Take this traitor away and lock him up.” Her eyes were beyond anger now, her pupils very briefly flickered to slits like her guards. The soldiers grabbed him by the forelegs and began to drag him down the room, the princess glaring.

Suddenly the figure’s expression went from shock, to dismay, to anger. He roared and lifted the two guards into the air, slamming them into the ground. Before they could get up again, he broke a wing of each with a sickening crunch, on the first guard, the skin around the break tore, leaving a fissure all the way across the membrane, causing the wing to hang weakly down by the soldier’s side. He lay on the floor screaming and kicking the air, pulling his mane. The other soldier was less badly injured and became enraged, flinging himself at the figure, who stepped out of the way and grabbed his mane as he passed. The soldier’s front legs came off the ground at the sudden stop, the figure then punched him twice, once in the neck and once in the face. The guard choked and fell forwards clutching at his neck, blood began to dribble out of the corners of his mouth and he gasped. With that he collapsed onto the ground and stopped moving.

The first guard was still sobbing and rolling on the ground when the figure moved over to him, grabbing the broken top half of his wing and tearing it off completely. The soldier let out an ear splitting scream and the figure threw the severed limb over his shoulder. Blood started to squirt out of the area around the bone, the figure glanced at it briefly before grunting and stamping on the guard’s head, a torrent of blood, brains and vitreous fluid poured out of the destroyed skull, spraying all over the floor.

“I expected more of you, princess.” Growled the nameless pony, staring into her eyes.

“Ha.” Laughed the princess, she seemed to have been enjoying the whole thing. “Bravo! Good show!” she said, rising. The figure was confused, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned around, the two corpses flashed and transformed into two dead insect like creatures, with green eyes and fangs. Changelings.

“We’ve been expecting you, Archangel.” Said Luna, walking towards him.

“What the hell is going on?!" he roared. "Is this some kind of a joke?!” he said, frantically searching the area around him for a potential ambush.

“Your escapades haven’t gone unnoticed, and you have been dubbed the Archangel. It seems you are even more skilled than the rumours say.” The princess explained. “Oh, and here’s your knife.” She said, lifting it up with her magic and giving it to him.

“You’re using… Changelings?” the figure said, surprised.

“Indeed we are, your two guard friends are alive and well.” Luna said, the two guards walking out from the shadows behind her.

“And it would be helpful if you were nicer to them.” A hissing voice said from the shadows. The ground shook momentarily and a larger changeling appeared in the middle of the room, in front of the figure.

“Niccce to meet youuuu.” It said, “I am Chrysalis, queen of the changelingssssss.” She became an indistinct swirl for a second, before taking the form of the figure and holding out her hoof.

The pony, now codenamed Archangel, didn't move, his face remaining in it's dumbfounded expression. Gradually, it split into a smile, and he laughed and laughed and laughed. It was a good laugh, a laugh one would not associate with the pony it belonged to, as it was boisterous and infectious like no other.

"Ok, I have to admit, I'm impressed. And also more than a little confused." He said as he shook the hoof of Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings, with the Goddess of the Moon looking on in approval.

Chapter 6

Luna sighed. She was sick. Sick of this world, this war, herself and, above all, her cruel sadistic tyrant of a sister. She was homesick too; the thought of Equestria in its prime, with the beautiful flora that practically bloomed before your eyes, as well as the incredibly diverse fauna that varied from butterflies to phoenixes and from squirrels to manticores, made her want to cry. That was her home, not this huge steel fortress on a dying planet. Sometimes, her heart would ache with such powerful feelings of solitude and despair that, for a brief moment, SHE would surface. Luckily, she always managed to rein in her other self before anything catastrophic occurred. Such a feat would have been impossible for her younger self, but Luna had grown so significantly, that many now hailed her as the only one who could possibly defeat Celestia. She could see the logic in that, but she wondered if there was anyone else who could just do it FOR her…

Luna shook these thoughts away and sighed again, and gazed up at the moon, something that always calmed her thoughts. It was a beautiful crescent shape tonight. Her thoughts wandered aimlessly for a while, before returning to the peculiar problem called Archangel. She wondered if he really was what he said he was, a victim of this war who was doing what he could to exact justice. A victim of the war SHE started...

600 years earlier, several months after Luna received the letter that determined the fate of Equestria, she travelled to an unknown location under the cover of darkness. She was alone, as they had agreed. There was no moon that night, or rather, it was obscured entirely by clouds, which allowed the Moon Goddess with her jet black hide to move like a shadow, almost entirely undetectable to all but the most perceptive of individuals.

She flew through the night sky, relishing the cold night air of her domain. She felt alive, soaring beautifully without a care in the world and, most importantly, far way from Canterlot castle and Celestia. Ever since their skirmish in her bedchambers, her sister was no longer playing with her. She was consistently cruel, sadistic and dominating; she was only too aware that nopony could really challenge her, and took full advantage of that simple fact. She no longer hid her true personality when in the presence of civilians, even arresting multiple ponies for no reason beyond "theft", and taking them to the ominous new east wing of the castle, which she had requested to have built for "research purposes".

Luna had decided now that the mysterious letter, while definitely far too good to be true, was now worth the risk. Celestia must be stopped.

Suddenly, out of the inky blackness, a colossal castle came into view. Luna was extremely puzzled and curious, as she was certain there weren't any other castles or keeps around this area, and certainly nothing of this proportion. Warily, she circled the stone monolith, searching the walls for any banners or insignia, but found nothing. Eventually, her curiosity outweighed her caution, and she barged in through the great wooden doors.

The first thing she saw as she went inside the castle was the throne room, not unlike her sister's at Canterlot. However, this one was cold, lifeless and ugly; there were no magnificent stained-glass windows depicting the most significant events of the era, no beautiful decor that made the room ornately divine. The room was mostly shrouded in darkness, a few torches placed along the walls providing just enough light to see by. If she stared into the gloom hard enough, Luna could just make out a silhouette of a pony sitting on a throne.

Luna had had enough. She inhaled a huge mouthful of air, and unleashed a blast of her Royal Equestrian voice:

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? WHERE IS THE ONE WHO BROUGHT ME HERE?". Her voice shattered the deathly silence, the powerful sound echoing dramatically. As if in response to the command, the room seemed to brighten somewhat, enough light to see who sat peacefully on the throne, seemingly oblivious the sight and sound of the Goddess of the Moon roaring in rage.

Somehow, through some powerful and mysterious magic, a pony's shadow sat motionlessly on its seat, as if it had been waiting patiently for Luna's arrival. It motioned for her to come closer.

"You are Princess Luna, correct?" said the reflection, with a deep, quiet voice.

"No, I'm just that other Alicorn with a moon cutie-mark." came Luna's scathing retort. She was bitter that she had lost her composure due to some clever trick, even if she had never seen anything of it's kind before.

The silhouette was unfazed:

"Ah, good. We have much to discuss-"

"Excuse me, but you have yet to tell me who you are, where we are and exactly what you want. I came all the way out here to this place because apparently you can help. So, I want answers. NOW." Luna glared at this mockery of a pony directly where it's eyes should have been, daring it to risk incurring her wrath.

The shadow gazed at her for a brief moment, then looked away as if it was pondering something. It stayed like this, unmoving, for a disturbingly long time, before nodding it's head. It turned to look at Luna, and said:

"Very well. I am The Executive, owner of Eque-Sci. You are currently standing in the throne room of Eque-Sci's HQ. What we want is simple. War."

The Executive's shadow waved its hoof.

The previously pitch-black throne room magically brightened, revealing banners that hung on the walls above the throne that were sewn with a strange insignia. The most striking thing about the room, though, were the hundreds upon hundreds of weapons, of all different categories and styles, shapes and sizes that covered the walls entirely, making it look like a colossal shrine to death and mayhem.

"Now, shall we discuss business, your Highness?" The Executive stated simply, with a smile in his voice.

Chapter 7

The serene crescent moon had recently given way to the scorching ball of fire that reigned during the day, the blue sky impossible to look at.

Rolling along the dirt road was an armoured truck, the windows were slits and the tyres were thick. On the side was a blue crescent moon and star with wings, the NLR emblem, and around the metallic panelling were dark blue lines – The trademark of Eque-Sci. Deep in the belly of the great behemoth was the squadron of troops being deployed to protect an important convoy of supplies headed for the newly captured stronghold of Trottingham. The members were elite soldiers, huddled over in the back of the truck. Amongst them was Archangel. He sat in the corner, his head down, not joining in with the rowdy conversations of his comrades. He didn’t like it, any of it. He didn’t like the uniforms, he didn’t like the vehicles, and most of all he hated working in a team, he only saw them as sitting ducks, a bigger target.

“Hey, rookie, you want some?” said one of the other soldiers, a muscly, sturdily built dark green pony, offering him a flask of whiskey. The others roared with laughter.

“Fuck you.” Was the only reply. The soldier glared at him, slowly putting the flask back in his pocket.

“Oh, you’ve made a powerful enemy today, my friend.” The soldier snarled, “We’re a team, there’s no heroes, no lone wolves. You’d better learn to get used to it.”

“Fuck you.” The Archangel repeated, looking back down at his uniform. It was a black body suit, with pockets on the flanks and two solid black saddlebags – all with blue trim, of course. On the front of the neck was a chain of mobile plates, so that the neck remained flexible, and on the back and sides were more metal plates, heavily carbonised so that they were black, to keep with the theme. Archangel looked down at the helmet in his hooves, it was black, of course, with a blue stripe over the crest. There was a Perspex eyepiece that was tinted blue and had a bridge to fit over the muzzle, it all looked very robotic and organised. It wasn’t his style.

“Hey, you lot, we’re here.” Called the driver, leaning through the window into the troop area.

“yeah, ‘kay, come on lads.” Said the squad leader, the same pony who had offered him the drink. The back door opened slowly and the soldiers jumped out onto the dirt road, the great grassy plain was one of the few unspoiled areas on the continent, but it was still nothing compared to what it was, the remains of a huge forest, all there was to show of it was a few tree stumps. The dirt road continued on into the distance, to Trottingham many miles away.

“The convoy won’t be long now lads, and remember, these supplies are incredibly important for the stronghold up the road, it’s security is the utmost priority.” Said the group leader, a sergeant.

Conversations quickly sprang up, mostly gloating about previous victories. Archangel listened intently from a distance, he was sitting on his own, staring at a beetle scuttling through the grass, pondering how it must be feeling, trying to run away from something so big that it could crush it before it got more than a foot, but chose not to. It made him think, what if this is all a game, Celestia might just be playing with me. But he quickly dismissed the thought. The pony’s ears pricked up, however, when he heard his new name, “Archangel” It seemed he really was getting famous.

“Have you heard about this Archangel?” one of the squaddies asked, looking at the pony opposite him.

“Oh, yeah, that guy. He’s a bit of a badass isn’t he, I mean it takes some nerve to go against Celestia like us, but to blatantly attack guards, unarmed. It’s crazy.” The other soldier replied, shuffling on his treestump.

“I heard he got to Stalliongrad yesterday, got a personal audience with Luna herself, he must be good.” The first soldier replied.

“Imagine if you got him in your squad, you would never have to bother fighting again, he would take ‘em all out without a gun!” The second soldier said, they both chuckled.

“Reminds me of this time, actually, there was 3 chaos soldiers, I grabbed the first from behind…” The conversation drifted back to exaggerated bragging. Archangel smiled at the irony of the situation, but he thought it best that no one knew his identity.

“Here they come, It’s about time.” Cried the sergeant, rising from his seat and pointing down the road. “It’s all Chaos territory from here, everyone get in a separate truck, make sure everything’s ok.”

As the trucks pulled up at the stop, each of the squad said goodbye briefly and hopped into the back of the supply trucks, Archangel took the rear one, carrying food, and took his station in the back.

Several hours later the trucks stopped as night began to fall, there had been no incidents and everypony was in good spirits as they set up camp at the roadside, they were halfway to Trottingham.

“Hey, new guy! You take first watch.” Bawled the sergeant, they all chuckled even though nothing particularly funny had happened and went to bed. Archangel stayed awake, leaning against the front truck, his eyes were heavy as he had spent the last week walking with few rests. As time went on he was fighting to keep awake, it was clear that none of the other soldiers intended to take over and the pony reiterated the sergeants words in his head, “We’re a team now.” So much for that. The Archangel started when he saw a flash in front of the bright moon, and again. The pony began to panic, was it Griffins? He’d heard they were working for the Solar Empire at the moment, although they seemed to change their minds with the wind.

There was a thud behind him and the pony turned around suddenly, only to see something even less expected than griffins. Princess Luna was standing in front of him, truly stunning bathed in moonlight, her natural setting.

“Your majesty” he said, bowing briefly, “How did you get here? We are such a long way out.”

“Ha! You shouldn’t worry about such trivial things.” She said, matter-of-factly. The trucks and tents shot up into the air in a blur, leaving the Archangel with nothing to lean on, so he nearly fell.

“What the –” He began, looking around frantically.

“Oh, don’t worry about them either. They’re safe for now.” The princess interrupted, she shook her head slightly. “I just thought that I should tell you that you’re due an attack pretty soon, so you’d better wake up.” Luna disappeared as quickly as she had come.

Archangel woke with a start, he had fallen asleep on guard and kicked himself. He recalled his dream and pondered on it, until he remembered the end: “You’re due an attack.” He said to himself, looking around urgently.

Suddenly he heard a rustling in the bushes nearby, And another in the bushes at the other side of the camp.

“AMBUSH!!!” He yelled at the top of his voice. Lights came on in the tents and war cries could be heard near the campsite. The Archangel picked up an assault rifle and turned on the huge spotlights on the front truck. The attackers were startled and he shot two of them, the rest kept on surging forwards, they had total contempt for life, even their own. They were Chaos Dominion forces. The soldiers could be seen at the doors of the tents, confused and groping for their weapons. The pony heard a noise above him and shot into the air, there was a cry of pain and a pegasus pony thudded to the ground with a loud crunch, he didn’t make any more noise. As more insurgents were running at him, firing their weapons, the Archangel was forced to hide behind a truck. He shot out from the side and over the top and most of the times, agonised screams could be heard.

Around the back a Chaos soldier screamed towards the pony with a huge old sword, he took a swing but missed, and in the wake of the throw, Archangel launched himself at the attacker, stabbing him messily in the chest with his knife. When he pulled it out blood came out in fast spurts, and the soldier was quickly on the floor, dropping his weapon. Chaos forces began to gather around the truck, when the pony had an idea, he noticed that the truck was carrying explosives. With his lighter, a piece of the body suit and the pool of petrol at his feet, the archangel threw the flaming rag onto the truck and stayed as long as he dared to keep the insurgents nearby.

After a few seconds he dived out of the way, just as the truck exploded loudly, flipping over in a ball of flame and bowling down the majority of the attackers, the remaining ones galloping away, screaming. At that the Archangel looked around the side of the fireball, to see a large number of the Chaos soldiers aflame, rolling on the ground or running around in circles, but the fuel was soaked into their coats, and it burned their flesh, causing it to turn black and red. They screamed tirelessly for several minutes, before dropping down one by one and lying still, mutilated beyond recognition. By this time the other veteran soldiers were standing at the entrance to their tents, dumbfounded. They cradled their guns but did nothing with them, just staring at the pony, who was breathing heavily and his fur was singed. The air was filled with the smell of burning hair and cooking flesh.

“You – You’re the Archangel.” One of the soldiers finally managed to say, pointing at him with a hoof.

“Fraid so.” Replied the archangel, shortly.

“You saved our lives!” another soldier said. The truck drivers began to cheer, the whole scene reminded him of the event in the school yard when he was a foal all those years ago.

“The sergeant did nothing!” a soldier said.

“The Archangel should be our leader, not him!” another agreed, raising his hoof into the air. Everyone else in the camp roared in agreement, except the sergeant, who was red faced, embarrassed and angry.

“He destroyed a perfectly good truck and hundreds of Bits worth of explosives. Why do you cheer for him?” The sergeant said, trying to drag himself out of the situation.

“Who cares? He saved our lives! Hurrah!” the same soldier retorted. Raising his hoof again.

“Hurrah!” everyone said, imitating the soldier with their hooves simultaneously. The sergeant sulked away, humiliated, got into an armoured car and drove away down the road.

“If you want him, have him!” He shouted, driving away. The other ponies cheered and gathered around the archangel.

Later, they all helped with the grim task of piling up the disfigured corpses, their faces eternally contorted in agony. The Archangel got a can of petrol and went to an open patch of grass near the bodies, even though they were Chaos soldiers he knew Celestia would check it out, so he left his message, burnt into the grass: CELESTIA WILL BURN.

When the clearing up was done, the convoy set out again to it’s destination at Trottingham, leaving the flames flickering in the breeze.

chapter 8

It was the early hours of the morning, and the stoic moon had once again been suppressed by the burning behemoth of a star, the Sun, with its now infamous sickly yellow rays that took as much life as it had once bestowed. The convoy had rode triumphantly into Trottingham a few hours before, and now Archangel was starting to wish they hadn't. Trottingham had only been freed from Celestian control recently, and the results of the extended oppression by the Tyrant could be seen everywhere; houses were boarded up, the occupants forcibly extricated from the premises by officers of the Solar Empire. The streets were obscured by the telltale signs of rioting, pollution and corruption, with graffiti completely covering the walls and waste blocking the roads and pavements. Simply put, Trottingham was a ghost town, the only signs of inhabitance glimpsed for a brief moment through doorways and windows before they were hastily bolted shut.

They had deposited the emergency supplies in the town centre in order to draw a crowd for Princess Luna's scheduled speech. However, it seems that even the promise of food, fuel and weapons isn't enough to help mend the broken town.

Archangel was patrolling the town when he found another NLR soldier, a crimson pegasus with an orange mane, wrestling with one of the townsfolk. The sight of this made Archangel's blood boil, for the pony was clearly poor and defenceless, unable to even put up a fight against the trained pile of testosterone beating her into submission.

The soldier had clearly lost his patience with the elusive residents of Trottingham,

"Get to the damn town centre, you bitch! Princess Luna will be here soon!" he roared, before he found a hoof in his face.

The power of Archangel's kick propelled the pegasus through the nearest window, the ponies cowering inside watching the brutal display bursting through the door with screams of terror. Archangel tried to assist the broken pony lying at his feet, but she also scattered as a flaming bullet, bellowing in rage, collided with him, and they hit the ground in a ball of violence. The pegasus got to his feet first, and proceeded to attack the still recovering Archangel. However, the Earth Pony kicked out at his attacker's legs, knocking him to the floor and the two reversed roles, Archangel now beating the living shit out of the pegasus. They continued like this for a while, until Archangel finally landed a blow on the soldier's temple knocking him out cold.

Archangel just stood hunched over for a while, catching his breath. Eventually, he looked up and took in the sight of several Trottingham ponies watching him warily. They had probably gathered round to see the commotion, Archangel thought. Slowly, he raised his hooves in a gesture of peace. Some of the ponies started at this movement, but none of them ran away. Now's my chance, Archangel thought nervously.

"I apologise for the actions of my subordinate here," He kicked the prone form by his feet. "We didn't come to Trottingham to torture you, we simply wanted to give you some emergency aid. Also, Princess Luna, sworn enemy of the Tyrant, is arriving soon to give a speech in front of the town hall. The NLR is your ally, not your enemy."

Archangel searched the faces of the gathering crowd. Most of them still seemed suspicious, but then a starving little foal stepped forward out of the audience.

"Did you bring food?" She asked, as if hope had been something that no-one had dared to even think about for fear of disappointment.

"Yes." The crowd gasped in astonished elation and hurried with with new-found vigour towards the Town Square. Archangel exhaled deeply in a relieved sigh, having finally brought the citizens around to their side. But it wasn't over yet; if Luna's speech goes down badly, then his efforts were for naught.

Archangel trailed behind the crowd, carrying the pegasus on his back. He was younger than Archangel had assumed he was, only about 18 years old, and he wore a necklace with a symbol medallion on it, a pair of burning wings; Archangel guessed it was his cutie-mark. Admittedly, he was impressed with the young pegasus, as he had been able to fight a pony who was larger, older and far more experienced. Also, the speed at which he flew during their skirmish was beyond belief. Archangel doubted he had seen any pegasus pony move at such speeds before in his life.

Just who was this kid?

"You cunt." A voice from behind him said.

Archangel turned his head, and looked his passenger, who was now awake, in the eyes. They glowered at each other. "Shut up and stop complaining."

"I was just doing my job before you came in and ruined everything."

"Why don't you go tell that to the pony you nearly killed."

There was a noticeable pause.

"No-one tells me what to do. No-one. Not even that Archangel guy."

The way he said that made Archangel smile. He was scared. "Really? Not even Archangel?"

"No."

"See, I heard that he murdered his own family. And that he's so efficient, so psychotic, that he gives even Celestia nightmares."

"S-Shut up."

"Whatever. What's your name, kid?"

"The name's Rolling Thunder. And I'm not a kid." Archangel heard Rolling Thunder's teeth clench.

"Whatever you say, kid. But this isn't a playground anymore. And you aren't the school bully, either."

"You're just ASKING to be punched in the face." Despite themselves, they both laughed. Archangel liked this kid.

After a bit more banter, they settled into an awkward silence that continued all the way to the town centre, where NLR medics were tending to the broken townsfolk, while both Archangel's and Rolling Thunder's squads were keeping watch for any attacks from any Chaos or Solar forces. Archangel left Rolling Thunder, who had sustained heavier injuries from their fight, with the medics and returned to his squad, where he was tasked with the job of being a bodyguard for Princess Luna during her speech.

As if on cue, the Goddess herself finally appeared, soaring majestically over Trottingham before landing gracefully on the podium, her stern royal gaze commanding her previously restless audience to quieten into a respectful silence.

Princess Luna cleared her throat, and began her speech:

"Citizens of Trottingham, until very recently, you were under the oppressive rule of the Tyrant, Celestia. You were treated like slaves, subjected to endless propaganda and many of your friends and family were taken from you, never to be seen again. I realise that your spirits are broken, that you do not believe that Celestia can be overthrown, but I do not agree. I promise you that if you, and others like you, offer us your support, we can win. For you see…"

Archangel watched the proceedings with his attentive eyes. He was impressed by the way the Princess managed to inspire confidence and camaraderie with her words. It was almost as masterful as the way Princess Celestia impressed fear and hopelessness upon your soul with her speeches, forcing you to submit to her control.

A flash of movement in the crowd caught his eye. A pony garbed in rags that obscured their features was moving closer to the stage. Archangel’s gut was rarely wrong, and now it was telling him not so subtly that was something big was about to happen, and that this pony was going to be the cause.

Quickly, he pushed through the crowd, which was slowly growing as other Trottingham ponies that had been in hiding the whole time started to join the audience. Luna noticed him causing a commotion, and imbued her words with magic in order to keep the crowd's eyes on her. Now, the soldiers who had also noticed the suspicious pony started moving through the gathering of enthralled ponies too. The target must have noticed them, because he bolted towards the front of the crowd.

Out of nowhere, a red blur, Rolling Thunder, extricated the ragged pony from the crowd and threw them to the floor some distance away. He quickly restrained and tore off the rags obscuring the male pony’s face, revealing blank eyes that glowed with an unnatural light. A mind-control spell. This pony had been ordered to assassinate Princess Luna, but the amazing Rolling Thunder saved the day, he thought proudly.

"ROLLING THUNDER!! MOVE!!" Archangel shouted from behind him, pulling Rolling Thunder back to reality. He looked down and his heart stopped.

A bomb, beeping merrily, was strapped to the pony's chest.

He shrieked and leapt into the air, high above the subdued suicide bomber. He looked down and saw Archangel running at full speed towards him,

"What are you doing, you mani-?!" He suddenly realised what he intended. Archangel, in almost suicidal disregard for his own life, ran forward, tore the bomb off the pony and threw it with all his might into the air, where Rolling Thunder, with his limited control over the weather, summoned a powerful wind that threw it far, far away from Trottingham, where it exploded with no consequences.

"…And we will defeat Celestia. We will take back our home from her ruthless, destructive dictatorship. We will win, for the glory of The New Lunar Republic! WHO'S WITH ME?!" Luna bellowed to the roaring crowd.

"NLR, NLR, NLR, NLR!" The crowd went wild. There were even patriotic tears in their eyes.

Archangel and Rolling Thunder watched the Trottingham bow in fealty to Princess Luna, who received their oaths gratefully.

"Hey, you still haven't told me your name, you know." Rolling Thunder stated, with subtlety akin to an angry manticore.

Archangel sat quietly for a while, gazing at the rising moon, before answering, "Archangel."

Rolling Thunder’s face split into a wide childish smile. "I knew it."

chapter 9

600 years ago, somewhere near Ponyville…

The sun, bold and beautiful, floated peacefully in the expansive ocean of the sky. It was a perfect day. Pinkie Pie began it by opening her window and yelling "GOOD MORNING, PONYVILLE!" at the top of her lungs. Then, eager to have fun with her friends, she bolted down the stairs and, quite literally, bounced out the door, but not without yelling a good morning to Mr and Mrs Cake, the baker couple, and their twins, Pumpkin and Pound.

The pink earth pony continued on her way to her friend Twilight Sparkle's house, firing off rounds of "Hello!"' and "Good Morning!"' to everyone she passed. She wondered what Twilight was doing today, hopefully doing something fun cos she liked fun things, like magic tricks or something, but maybe she's just reading those dusty books of hers, but she couldn't really blame her cos she does live in a library, even so, maybe Rainbow Dash was practicing her Sonic Rainboom and needed somebody to cheer her on, cos Fluttershy isn't very good at cheering, oh, but maybe Fluttershy is doing something even more fun than Twilight and Rainbow COMBINED, like bear-wrestling or having a tea party, but maybe… Pinkie Pie's thoughts went round and round like this for some time, and by the time she realised that she probably had enough time to have fun with ALL her friends, she had already arrived at Twilight Sparkle's tree home.

Pinkie Pie found the purple unicorn hunched over a something at her desk. with the little dragon Spike and the other 4 Elements gathered around her.

"Hey everybody!" She bellowed cheerily. The gang to look at her with grim faces, except Twilight, who was wrapped up in thought.

"Why the long faces everybody? You all look like this," Pinkie put on an exaggerated frown.

"It's because of this really weird letter from Princess Celestia. It's not written like her at all." Applejack said.

Twilight looked up, her face torn between puzzlement and anger because of said predicament. "It says that we are "special war potentials" and that we "must go to Canterlot Castle at once, for our own protection". It sounds like she's expecting us to be attacked, but… something seems strange about this whole thing. I just can't put my finger on it…"

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

Rarity walked up to the door and opened it, gasped, turned to her friends and said "They're Celestia's guards!"

Without warning, the two soldiers barged past Rarity into the room, and pointed their spears at Pinkie.

"Pinkie Pie, we've come to take you with us. We have orders from Celestia to require your assistance." They stated.

"W-Why? W-What d-do you want with her, um, sirs?" Fluttershy asked tentatively.

"Shut up."

"Hey, don't talk to my friends like that!" Rainbow Dash shouted angrily, holding her fists up in a boxing stance. One of the guards smashed Rainbow Dash in the face with a gauntleted fist. "I said BE QUIET."

RD fell to the ground, unconscious. The soldiers grabbed Pinkie Pie roughly, "No more games, give us the location of the cloning pool right now, or ELSE."

Pinkie pie was thrown down into a chair in a dark room, she looked at herself, still in shock. During the ride to wherever they were, the worry and fear had caused her mane and tail to go straight. “Oh no, not good, not good at all.” She thought. When her hair did this it was only a matter of time before she flipped, before her other self took over.

Suddenly a bright light appeared in Pinkie’s face, she turned away to avoid the blinding rays. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw two armour clad Royal Guards appear from the gloom.

“Miss Pinkamena Diane Pie, we have some questions for you. Please oblige and this will be a lot easier on all of us.” The guard on the left said in a soft voice.

“Hey, what the hell happened to her hair?” The Right hand side guard whispered into the other’s ear.

“Who cares, what difference does it make.” Came the reply. “Anyway, Miss Pie, do you pledge allegiance to the excellent and just princess Celestia of Equestria?”

“Um, yes, I suppose.” The cowering pinkie Pie answered, “What’s all this for anyway” She asked, looking at the guards in turn.

“Princess’ orders.” Barked the second guard, raising his chin slightly and looking down his nose.

“What’s all this for? I mean, I know Celestia, she’s cool. I don’t think we need all this.” The pink pony questioned, growing less nervous.

“Shut up, you saw what happened to your friend. We ask the questions.” The first guard snapped angrily.

“Whatever,” The second one said, pushing him aside. “We happen to know that you have information on a certain duplication pool in the everfree forest.”

“Why do you need to know?” retorted pinkie impulsively, her voice becoming more growling. Oh no, here she comes! The pink pony thought to herself.

“You stupid cunt!” yelled the second guard, pushing the chair that pinkie was tied to onto the floor, her vision went fuzzy and there was ringing in her ears as a guard leaned down and snarled:

“We ask the fucking questions.”

“I’m so sorry, that wasn’t me, I couldn’t help it!” Cried pinkie desperately. She thought about why Celestia’s guards were doing this, she remembered ponies going missing and not coming back, about the increase in soldiers around. Pinkie worked out what was going on, Celestia had gone bad, she wanted the pool to make more soldiers.

“I aren’t telling you where the pool is!” Pinkie said defiantly, preparing herself for another blow. None came.

“Oh really.” Jeered the first guard, smiling, “Are you sure.” He clapped his hooves and lights appeared down the length of the grimy white room. At the far end was a large cage, with smaller cages branching off, the main one contained pinkie’s five friends, the smaller ones were restraining starved dogs, growling angrily.

“Pinkie! You have to help us!” Shouted Twilight, her voice echoing off the walls of the room.

“You let my friends go!” Pinkie snarled, her voice deeper than usual. Her eye twitched. “Now.”

“You know the deal.” The second guard said, shrugging. “Help us, and they will be fine.”

“I’ll never help you to oppress Ponyville, if I die the location of the pool dies with me.” She retorted courageously.

“Fine.” The guard said, and clapped his hooves again, the partition between the cages opened slightly.

“Ok, ok, I’ll lead you to the pool, but you won’t get away with this.” Pinkie said.

Later in the day pinkie was led to the entrance to the everfree forest, one of the guards pointing a spear at the back of her head, the other one trailed behind slightly. The rear guard heard rustling in the bushes across the track.

“Hey, there’s something over here, I’m just going to check it out.” He said, walking over to the bush cautiously.

At the front there was a fork in the path. The guard stopped at the junction and prodded pinkie with the spear.

“Which way?” he asked. A muted gurgle and a thud could be faintly heard from behind. The rear guard caught up.

“That way.” Pinkie said reluctantly, pointing up the left path with a hoof before staring at the ground again. The party continued up the path.

“Where were you?” the front guard asked, turning his head to look at the other guard.

“It was nothing, just a rabbit.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Here.” Pinkie said, stopping suddenly in front of a large rock partially in the ground. “It’s under there.”

“Hey!” The guard shouted “Come and help me with this!” The other soldier trotted over and they both heaved the boulder out of its indentation. They both stared with surprised expressions at the tunnel that it revealed.

Several minutes later the group arrived at the duplication pool, in a forest clearing that defied physics because they were underground last time they checked. Pinkie sighed and looked at her muddied hooves.

“We’re here.”

“Good, now alert the army.” The first guard said, loosening the spear in the pink pony’s neck. The second guard fumbled around in his pouches until he found a strange object, a weapon new to science. It looked like a metal tube with a wooden handgrip, and Pinkie had never seen anything like it before. The guard looked at it, seemingly confused, before pointing it in the air. An ear-splitting boom rocketed through the trees, reverberating for a few seconds.

The guard with the spear produced a small purse, containing a light blue powder, he emptied it onto the path they had made and the hoofprints showed up glowing blue all the way back to the entrance to the forest.

“Right, the troops are on their way. I’m afraid we have no further use for you, Miss Pie.” Said the first guard, drawing his sword and raising it in the air above the pink pony’s neck.

Suddenly the other guard turned black in a flash of green flame and twisted into a toothed insect like being. Pinkie recognised it well as a changeling, and regarded it with horror. The first guard paused to see what she was gawping at when the creature launched himself at him, clawing at his face and torso until it was unrecognisable. The guard eventually stopped struggling and the changeling crawled off him, regarded Pinkie for a second with its expressionless blue-green eyes then shot up into the air, letting out a piercing screech. In seconds a swarm of black was swirling around above the pool, Pinkie looked around and bolted into the woods.

Half an hour later the two armies closed in on the cloning pond, and violent skirmishes broke out, limbs flew and the ground was soaked in blood. The blue and orange armies locked in battle for several hours, pegasi flew overhead with bombs and some were even carrying the newly invented guns.

When the fighting eventually cooled off, the two sides noticed that the pool had been destroyed in the fighting, the explosions causing the banks to burst and the magical water to seep slowly into the soil and leaf litter. The NLR eventually drew out their soldiers and allowed the Solar Empire to realise that the area that they had sacrificed so many lives for was now a scorched wasteland. They also drew out the next day.

After 6 centuries the pool still hadn’t replenished itself and it was expected to never recover. Back in the fortress in Stalliongrad 600 years later, Luna recalled the events of the battle, she wondered if there were any other pools with the same magical ability, but it was unlikely. The doors opened at the end of the room and the chubby unicorn general Dragonheart entered. Luna rolled her eyes and sighed, she was really getting sick of him, a replacement would be needed very soon.

Chapter 10

"Hi there. You here to honour our lord and saviour?" The unicorn said. He was armoured in primitive tribal dress; a patchwork of leather, scrap metal and heretical charms. Typical garb for a Chaos Dominion priest-in-training, the brown-haired pony thought. She had turned up completely spontaneously at the entrance to the Dominion's base, much to the confusion of the guards based there.

"Yep. That's me, always looked up to that Discord bloke."

"Uh, yeah. Your name?"

"My name? Uhhhh…"

Shit. My name, I need a name, don't I?

"Penny."

"…Penny?"

"Yep."

"Bit of a strange name, don't you think?"

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Touche. Go on in."

The unicorn cultist's face visibly strained as he used his magic to open the hidden door, which was concealed in the basement of a destroyed house in the middle of the ruins of… wherever it was. The village was ancient, overgrown and forgotten. The perfect place for the Chaos Dominion to make its home.

Penny walked down the gloomy stairwell into the heart of madness. She knew all about the Chaos Dominion and its hierarchy. It was a cult formed around the God of Chaos, and existed only to wreak havoc and destroy society, therefore bringing about eternal anarchy. The top of the metaphorical ladder were the Bishops and High Priests. From there downwards, there were the priests, then the priests-in-training. In structural terms, it is incredibly simplistic, primitive and fragile; the only way order is kept is through their utter devotion to chaos. It was quite ironic.

As Penny wandered purposefully through the makeshift church, heads turned to look at the new arrival, then swiftly turned back again. The most interesting thing about Penny's appearance was how UNinteresting it was, even in a tightly-knit group like the Chaos Dominion, Penny just seemed to look like some distant acquaintance, or something along those lines.

Eventually, she came to a door. There was nothing remotely noteworthy about the door, besides the words scratched into the wood: "The Chamber Of His Disharmoniousness". Noting the multiple spelling mistakes, Penny opened the door and took a peek inside.

Inside the chamber, she saw a strange creature. It was formed of mismatched limbs of different creatures; pony, lion, donkey, dragon, they were all there, fused together in this abomination.

Discord, Chaos Incarnate was bored. She could tell from the almost childlike scowl on his face, glancing down on the Bishops gathered around him. He couldn't quite hear what they were babbling on about, but he was yawning, which was a big clue. Probably something to do with eternal chaos and anarchy in the name of his Disharmoniousness, or something boring like that.

Discord suddenly shouted out loud:" Bored, bored, bored! Are there NO fun ponies in this stupid hole in the ground?!"

"Excuse me, but do I count?" She piped up.

The enraged Bishops got to their feet. "How DARE you interrupt this sacred ritual."

Discord snapped his fingers. The Bishops were instantly incinerated, burning away without a trace or sound. "Well, hello there, little lady."

"Hi!" Penny replied cheerfully.

"What's your name?"

"Penny."

"…Penny?"

"Yep."

"Bit of a strange name, don't you think?"

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Touche."

"I think I've had this conversation before."

Discord laughed hysterically. "You are quite the interesting little pony, Penny. Much more fun than these pathetic cultists. But they are loyal, I'll give them that, even though I never really asked for a religion dedicated to me."

"Hey, I was just wondering, what are you actually trying to do here, Mr Discord?"

Discord sighed, and slouched down in his stone chair. It didn't make it any more comfortable, so he turned it into a lavish sofa, complete with cushions. He patted the seat next to him, and Penny sat down gratefully. "Ah, now that's a good question. That's something that this lot never did, ask me questions. But anyway, the answer to your question is… I don't know. I've been around for a long time, Penny, a very long time indeed. I've come and gone, a cycle of defeat and eventual rebirth spanning millennia. Someone actually reformed me a few centuries ago, umm… Fluttersomething. Fluttertie? Flutterdie? Ah, Flutterpie, that was it. I like pie, do you like pie, Penny?"

She nodded in the affirmative. A pie popped into existence in her lap.

"Now," Discord continued with a mouth full of fruit and pastry. "Where was I? Oh yes, now I remember. So, since I'm the God of Chaos and all that good stuff, the reforming didn't really last long. By the time I had been imprisoned and freed again, I was back to my old self again, and I was looking to have a bit of fun with my old pal Celestia. However…" Discord trailed off and looked down at his feet with a pained look on his face.

Just when Penny thought he wouldn't continue, Discord started up again. "Do you know what it feels like to be a God, Penny? Well, obviously not. That also means that you don't understand what it feels like to be a WOUNDED God. It sounds impossible. I thought the same thing, but she proved me wrong that day. You see, in my incarceration in my stony prison, I had not been informed on current events. I didn't know how powerful she had become. I hide it normally, but I like you Penny, so I'll show you."

Discord's skin started to flake and peel away, revealing glowing burns and scars and torn flesh. There were even flashes of white in areas where the bone was exposed. There was only one thing that could have possibly caused this type of wound.

Magic. Extremely powerful magic.

"Well, there you go. That's question time over." Discord's skin and hair regrew instantly, hiding, but not healing, the permanent wounds.

"Oh, by the way, tell the idiots outside that I've made you the new Superduke Archking Ultrabishop of Chaos or something. Byeeeee."

Penny blinked, and she was suddenly outside the door.

Penny pondered what she had just learned for a short while, then her painfully average face split into a painfully unaverage smile. Her smile peeled back, revealing a black armoured carapace and mandibles, and glowing blue-green eyes.

"Ssssso, Disssscord is wounded, eh? How interesssssting…"

Chapter 11

Two ponies walked down a muddy road, their hooves covered in dirt and worn down, they were on their way to meet the squadron at an intersection on the main Canterlot highway, the road that joined the capital, Manehattan and Fillydelphia – the three largest and most powerful cities in the Celestine Empire, which spanned across the entire west and south of Equestria. The two ponies were Archangel and his new partner Rolling Thunder – Luna decided after the assassination attempt that they would make a good team.

“You understand what’s going on, kid?” said Archangel patronisingly as they were walking along.

“I’m not that stupid, and I’ve told you before, I’m not a kid. The only thing I don’t understand is why they made us walk.” He replied, removing the sunglasses that he nearly always wore, blinking once then putting them back on.

“I’m sorry; I don’t mean to talk down to you. I’m just used to being alone.” Archangel looked down at his hooves. “Besides, it isn’t far to walk, we need to keep fit and all.”

“Yeah, Whatever. I’d still prefer a truck, this sun’s killing me.”

Soon the junction came into view and the two ponies simultaneously sighed with relief, and then laughed at the coincidence. The rest of the team from the convoy escort were waiting there, and cheered as they saw their adopted leader appear from the crest of the hill. When they reached the post Archangel thought about the reversal of roles in this next mission, it was quite ironic, he thought. For what they were about to do was to intercept and capture a convoy, headed from Canterlot to Manehattan, it needed to be stopped because the NLR were planning an attack on the coastal city and it was imperative that supplies and morale were low for it to be successful, the Solar Empire was a formidable enemy.

Archangel turned around, the soldiers were poking at Rolling Thunder, it seemed as if it was a rite of passage for new recruits. He walked over to the group and listened quietly for a while, before intervening.

“Hey, kid, you sure you want to be here, it’s a long way from home.”

“Fuck you, I ain’t a kid, and I hate people calling me that. So I would shut the fuck up if I was you.”

“Aww, you gonna’ go and tell mummy that the soldiers were nasty to you.” They all laughed, except RT of course.

“I said shut the fuck up. I might be younger than you, but I could floor you in seconds.” He threatened, flapping up and hovering just above the ground and raising his hooves.

“Ha, stupid kid. We’ll see about that.” Archangel decided it was a good time to step in.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You lot do remember that this is how you treated me. Would you fight me now? Besides that, this guy nearly knocked me out the other day, and without bragging, I’m not exactly a pushover. So if you want to keep your dignity and your face intact, I suggest you leave my friend alone.” Rolling Thunder dropped back to the ground and raised his chin, a smug smile crossing his lips. He spat on the ground.

“Don’t get too full of yourself RT, or I’ll have to come over there and show you where we stand.” Archangel warned jokingly.

“I could take you any day, Grandpa.” The Pegasus replied, smiling and removing his glasses. “But at least you didn’t call me a kid.”

“There’s time for fighting later, the Celestians will be here soon.” Archangel said, turning around and looking up the road, one of the few properly constructed ones in Equestria.

“Chicken.” Was the reply from RT, there was visible disappointment on the faces of the onlookers; they were looking forward to a good fight.

“I’m not getting wrapped up in your games, we don’t have time.” Said the Archangel, unmoving.

“Chicken.” The young red pony repeated, grinning.

“Alright, alright, I’ll try not to hurt you too badly.” The older pony said, removing his saddlebags and helmet. Thunder did the same. They squared up to each other and went in circles, the others looking on eagerly. All of a sudden, Archangel tackled his adversary to the ground and pinned him there.

“Is that it?” He said, leaning over the downed Pegasus.

Rolling Thunder gritted his teeth, “No.” He kicked Archangel in the pit of his stomach, making him reel backwards with a grunt. RT then took off and sped towards him at top speed, only to find a shoulder in his face. They both tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust, wrestling each other, by the time it settled Archangel had Rolling Thunder pinned down on all four legs, leaving only his wings, flapping uselessly. There were some feathers lying around on the floor.

“There, you’ve had your fight, now get back on guard, they could come round the corner any minute.” He said, looking around at the troops.

“Yes sir!” they all shouted in unison, then went back to their individual stations.

“I would have beaten you, I have a cold!” The Pegasus thought of an excuse off the top of his head.

“Ha, you put up a good fight Thunder, you could do well.” Replied Archangel, releasing him from the grip. They both laughed.

“You do realise I’m never going to call you “Sir”, don’t you.” RT said, brushing himself off.

“I don’t want you to, Archangel is fine.” Was the reply.

“What about Archie?” asked the Pegasus.

“No.”

“You really like your new nickname, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty cool nickname. Not gonna’ lie.”

“Fair enough. Shall I go and scout up the road?” enquired Rolling Thunder, replacing his beloved sunglasses.

“Yeah, why not. Go on ahead.” Said the Earth pony, he barely had time to finish before RT had shot up into the sky in a blur.

“What a kid.” Archangel chuckled to himself, slowly shaking his head.

After a few minutes, Rolling Thunder could be seen flying frantically back to the camp, but as Archangel watched he saw him suddenly drop out of the sky in a flurry of wings.

“Shit!” The earth pony shouted, galloping towards where the crash happened, forgetting to get any weapons apart from his knife – which was already on his belt – and to alert the rest of the team. He noticed that his hooves were making a loud noise on the tarmac road, so he veered off into the verge.

As Archangel drew near to where RT appeared to have crashed, he drew his knife and slowed down to a fast but silent walk. He heard voices from just past a wall of grass in front of him and stopped to listen, to tell how many there were, where they were.

“Ha, look at him. What a state.” A voice said.

“That was some pretty nice shooting there.” A second voice joined in.

“It’s just ‘cos I’m pro.” The first voice replied.

“Oh shut it, that was SUCH an easy target.” A third voice.

“Eh, he was moving pretty quick.” The first voice defended.

“Whatever, stop arguing, what should we do with this?” Came a fourth voice, closer to Archangel’s location. There was a soft thud followed by coughing and choked gasps.

“Holy crap, it’s alive!” The second voice exclaimed “Oh great, more fun for us.” There was another thud and a short cry. Archangel judged the positions of the speakers and decided that there were 4 of them. The pony then dived out of the grass and stabbed one of the soldiers in the small of his back, knocking him into a second, both of the stunned tormentors falling to the ground.

“Shit!” one of the guards shouted, but he didn’t have time to react. From his position Archangel kicked a third soldier with both of his back legs, there was a quiet splintering sound and the guard fell back clutching his chest and screaming, the white bone of one of his broken ribs poked through the skin and blood was coming out in spurts.

To get the fourth guard Archangel pulled his knife out of the back of the first soldier and swung it around, hitting the final guard in the cheek. A large piece of flesh tore off and landed on the floor with a splat, the blow also knocked two of the guards teeth out, leaving a gaping hole where the whole jaw could be seen in detail. The pony’s skull was visible, smeared in blood but still recognisably white, and all the way down the bottom of his muzzle the skin and flesh were gone, the row of teeth – except two – looked menacing. The soldier fell onto the ground and screamed in one continuous note for a period of time.

Having heard only 4 voices, Archangel stopped and looked at Rolling Thunder on the ground, catching his breath, but the pegasus pony gasped painfully and pointed over Archangel’s shoulder. His eyes widened and he ducked suddenly, a fraction of a second before a gunshot sent two bullets over him.

“Fuck!” The earth pony shouted, turning around. This guy had been silent through the whole conversation and hadn’t been noticed. Archangel turned around and attempted to knock the gun out of his hooves, but the quiet guard kept a firm grip, throwing him off and hitting him in the stomach with the gun. Archangel stumbled backwards and raised his knife, he threw it at the last soldier but to his utter surprise, he missed. Unfazed, the soldier advanced towards the earth pony, only to eventually have the weapon kicked out of his hooves, in the second that he was bending down to catch it, archangel kicked him in the face. Again, the pony didn’t seem at all affected, punching him in the head and knocking him down.

“What the fuck?” said Archangel as he fell, and the soldier put his rear hoof oh his chest. The earth pony felt the amazing pressure on his ribs, the force exerted by this pony was immense. The soldier then raised his hoof and prepared to bring it down on Archangel’s nose.

Suddenly sparks flew out of the pony’s head and pieces of wiring and machinery flew out of the side, he fell weakly to the side and collapsed onto the ground, wisps of smoke coming from the gaping hole in his head. Archangel turned around to face RT, who was holding a pistol aloft in front of his face, smoke trickling out of the barrel.

“Thanks, I have to say that you saved my life.” The earth pony said, between breaths, he looked down at the dead pony. It seemed to be some sort of robot, with skin and hair, but inside was all wires and circuit boards.

“What the hell is this? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Archangel said, looking at the robotic pony. At that moment it glowed orange and shot up into the sky. “Argh! What?” he said, watching it go.

Suddenly there was a gasp from behind him and Archangel turned around to look at Rolling thunder, who then collapsed into a heap.

“Shit! RT!” The earth pony yelled, running over to the barely conscious red pony. He lifted him onto his shoulders and struggled back to the camp as quickly as he could manage before placing him down on a stretcher in the small medical tent.

“Woah, what the hell happened?” The medic asked, looking at the long bullet wound along the pegasus’ side.

“The Celestians are nearly here.” Archangel replied bluntly, “is he gonna’ be ok?”

“Yeah, he should be fine, it’s mostly cosmetic but he had lost quite a lot of blood.” The doctor replied, studying the cut.

Archangel left the tent and walked over to the knot of soldiers seated near the road. “You’d better get your arses into gear, the new kid just nearly got killed by some scouts just up the road. They’ll be a matter of minutes.” He said. “Oh, and they have really tough, silent android soldiers.”

“Holy crap, you serious?” replied one of the soldiers, picking up his gun.

“One nearly killed me back there, does that look like an ordinary hoof-mark to you?” He pointed at the deep red horseshoe mark on his temple.

“Shiiiiit!” The soldier said, peering at it.

Archangel walked away into the long grass, he needed some time to himself to think about the attack that they were about to make. These super-soldiers added a whole new layer to the fight.

Suddenly he heard a whoosh behind him and turned around sharply, pulling out his knife yet again with a metallic shink. In front of him was possibly the most unexpected pony possible. Celestia.

“So, you’re the Archangel are you?” She said, walking towards him slowly. Her mane blowing even though it was a still day, and seeming to emanate light. Her face was beautiful and serene, but a wicked sneer was still noticeable underneath the feigned innocence, she held her head very high and smiled slightly.

“You cunt.” Archangel said, quite calmly. Celestia laughed.

“Oh, are you still upset about your family? Yes, I’m sooooo sorry about that, but you know, duty calls.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure you will.”

“I’ll kill you right now.” Archangel said, even though he had a strong feeling that that wouldn’t be the case.

“Go on then.” She smiled, but her horn didn’t glow. Despite this, Archangel found himself under a spell, not a real spell, but an effect that Celestia had on ponies whenever she wanted to. He couldn’t move a muscle, locked in position with his knife raised.

“Oh no, what happened?” She said sarcastically, closing her eyes slightly. “Well well, what’s this? What a nice knife.” Celestia gloated.

“Fuck. You.” Archangel managed to say, with much effort. Celestia walked up to him and studied the knife, she looked at the markings and patterns on the blade and recoiled in horror.

“Where did you get this knife?” She asked, with a worried expression.

“Family heirloom.” Archangel said, clenching his teeth. Celsestia’s grip had loosened slightly so he could speak.

“Well, it seems that matters have become a little more interesting.” She said, her face relaxing again. She smiled. “Goodbye Archangel, I have a particular convoy to warn of a particular ambush.” With that the sun goddess shot up into the sky and Archangel was released from her spell.

“Well we’re fucked.” He said to himself, before walking back to the camp to order a retreat, the attack could never succeed now.

The rest

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Abortion

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

NEW CHAPTER WHAT - Chapter 20

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Prologue

The moon. A serene silver disc held aloft over the heads of the denizens of Equestria. Luna beheld it's magnificence for a while, before her gaze fell to the sleepy yet sophisticated citizens of Canterlot. Hoofsteps shattered the illusions of her mind, and she turned to look upon her sister, Celestia.

Luna and Celestia, the Royal Alicorn Sisters, could not have looked more different if they had tried. Her sister was the embodiment of the sun; a shining beacon, graceful and as large as life. She almost seemed to glow pure benevolence with an inner light. Luna, conversely, was her shadow; an understated beauty that reflected her sister's magnificence all the more. She was timid and reflective, seeming to fade into the shadows like a dream.

"Sister, have you finished your sacred duty?" Celestia asked with a gentle smile.

"If by that you mean: "Have you raised the moon?" then yes." Luna replied icily.

Celestia raised a perfect eyebrow. "Someone's in a bad mood today, it seems!"

"Don't patronise me, sister. Don't use that tone you take with your subjects."

Celestia gazed at her little sister, before her smile morphed into a sneer, her eyes taking on a cold sheen.

"My dear, whatever do you mean? Are you implying that I do not love every one of my beloved citizens?" She spat out the last word with barely concealed contempt.

Luna said nothing.

"Why do you hide from me, Luna? You think that I do not notice you, scurrying like a mouse, avoiding me at every turn? I have given you EVERYTHING. Where would you be without ME?"

Between every word, she advanced on her sister, backing her into a corner.

"Is it because of "Nightmare Moon"? You played that part well, dear sister, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Luna cringed, trying not to think about when she had allowed her hatred and contempt to control her; 1000 years that revisited her every night.

"Or is it something more?" Celestia's face instantly donned its mask of false serenity.

"Now run along, dear. It's time for bed."

With that, the undisputed ruler of Equestria left the room, leaving her younger sister cowering in the corner and stripped of her pride.

With that, a letter flew through the open window. A letter that would change history. A letter that glided into Luna's vision.

The letter had offered Princess Luna something that her sister never did.

A choice.

This was 600 years ago.