Second Wind

"Sir? Are you hearing this?" The soldier asked his Captain.

"Quiet." He responded, listening closely to his radio.

You sat forward in your chair. Normally, you would be kicked back, your feet resting atop the table, but the voice of David Abernathy, CEO of Aerox, came over the radio. Abernathy was a kind man, and never wasted time with anything. His voice usually meant something was up. You readjusted yourself in your seat, and leaned even further forward, basking in the silence of the environment.

"Attention, ladies and gentleman. First off, you are doing a damn fine job. Each and every single one of you. This is not ridicule coming your way. No, this is something different..." David started, speaking slowly but eloquently. His accent complemented his speech.

"I will make this short and to the point. A merger has been made official. Aerox and Terminus have merged..." He continued.

This wasn't a surprise to you or any other of your squadmates. You all worked so closely with Terminus, that you may as well been the same PMC.

"But..." David said. You feel goosebumps hatch themselves all over your skin. David's voice carried a little concern. He sounded as if he was worried about what everyone else would think.

"The IMO is also joining this merger."

Your blood went cold immediately.

"What?" Your Captain muttered under his breath.

The IMO were the BAD guys. They killed more than either Terminus or Aerox did. They even regularly assassinated and killed their own men.

They were harsh.

They were brutal.

They were only concerned with money.

Worst of all, they weren't noted for playing well with others. The few missions they had with either Aerox, Terminus, or contract work for NATO, they would always kill a ridiculous amount of friendly troops.

Aerox Infantry, Terminus Infantry, or NATO Infantry, it didn't matter. If they weren't wearing IMO colors, they were enemies, even when they were supposed to work together.

The IMO had killed two of your friends. You didn't know them too well, but it still shook you up and frightened you.

Why would David do this?

"I know what you're thinking. I know exactly what you're thinking. Quell those thoughts. The current Chairman of the IMO is an usurper. He killed the former beast which sat at the controls. He wishes for peace. And I trust him."

Everyone in the room relaxed a bit. David may have been extremely generous, but he wasn't an idiot. He was far from it, actually. David's trust was all you needed to hear.

"We are reforming. Rank, salary, and duties all carry over. Welcome. Welcome, to Locke Security Solutions."

_________________________________________________________________________________

David smiled as he finished up his transmission, licking his lips briefly. Talking must have dried them out.

"And, what's done, is done. Shall we continue our work here, gentleman? Isaac, do you need to be home to your family soon?"

You sigh gently. David didn't know about what had happened to your family. While too much was certainly going on right now, it would be better to get this out of the way now.

"I've got a feeling I miss them more than they miss me, sir." You said. David caught the oddity in your words, and stood up from his chair. He walked over to you, placed his hand on your shoulder, and squeezed gently.

"I'm sorry, laddie."

Patrick tilted his head.

"Excuse my asinine attitude, but you said you had a family, Isaac." He said.

You smile weakly.

"I do. Death doesn't change that. I'll always have a wife. I'll always have my children."

You weren't expecting this subject to leap up, but it was bound to.come.

"I know you're curious. Sit back. Let me explain.

_________________________________________________________________________________

I met Christine when I was a child, only 12 years old. We were simple friends until we were about 16, when we joined together in a romantic relationship.

We loved each other.

We both excelled in school, we both had extremely bright futures.

Fate has a funny way of changing things.

Regardless of how protected you try to be, sometimes, pregnancy is inevitable.

We had our first child when she was only 19 years old.

Naturally, our parents were freaking out at first, but soon they came together and accepted what had happened, helping us raise them. My son's name was Seth.

I decided to drop out of my university and take care of him while she went to school. I couldn't deprive her of a bright future. I loved her too much to do so.

Then she got pregnant again about a week after graduation. Nine months later, my daughter Monica was born.

We loved our children too much to put them in daycare and shove them away from us, so, I did what I had to do. I found the IMO and enlisted while Christine took care of the children. It was great at first. I was raking in well over 350,000 dollars a year, just for standing guard outside a couple of buildings Banks and Armories, mainly.

Then, she got pregnant again. This time, was the last time.

I had literally just got off of my plane in Washington DC, right after my "assassination" of Adam, when I got the call she was going into labor. I broke more traffic laws than you can count on your fingers and toes on my way to the hospital.

I burst into the room, and immediately stood by her side.

She grabbed my hand, and nearly broke it from squeezing.

That's when it happened.

Her squeezing became very weak.

The heart monitor began to beep slower and slower.

I looked over into her eyes, and up to the heart monitor machines. I was too in shock to react. Her eyes met mine, and with the strength fading from her hand, the light was leaving her eyes.

A few moments later, I held my newborn daughter in my arms, crying my eyes out.

Christine, the woman I grew up with.  My best friend and first love.

She died giving birth.

I named our daughter Christine.

Life then continued as normal for 3 or 4 years.

Christine was growing up to look much like her mother, which tore at my heart. Seth was become quite the athlete, playing soccer in the toddler leagues. Monica was more quiet and reserved, always playing in her room, alone.

Another day, I got a call, telling me to leave the kids at the house, and drive away. It was the former Chairman. He said if I didn't respond, he would kill Adam, so I did.

The fuckers burned down my house.

They killed all I had.

Then, they threatened to kill Adam again, should I choose to commit suicide, or become disobedient.

They had me trapped.

The Chairman laughed, as he always did.

"Looks like your schedule is free now, huh?"

_________________________________________________________________________________

Everyone in the room had gone silent. Even Carter, who had heard the story before, looked at the floor, not saying anything.

"Isaac." David started. "You are a broken man, Aren't you?"

You smile weakly again.

"I am. That's why I'm perfect for this job. And not to sound rude, but I don't need any pity. I have plenty of it already."

David sits back in his chair, and appeared to be deep in thought.

"Sorry to bog the mood down, but I knew it would come up eventually. It's best that you know."

Patrick looked up at Isaac.

"Not to make you sound weak, but suicide is an option now. You're a great man, but we all have our limits. We have no right to tell you, that you must suffer any longer. I can only imagine your pain."

"I still have work to do here. Adam ended up dying, anyways. This new position we have here, it's a valuable one. It's what Adam wanted. Peace. And I will fight to uphold it."

David and Patrick both smiled.

Carter continued looking at his feet, still deep in thought.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Adam grabbed Isaac by his neck, and threw him onto the ground.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" He shouted. Adam wore his armor, complete with bandana that stopped just below his eyes. Isaac was dressed as he normally was, black and orange combat armor, complete with the orange neckerchief.

Adam had used magic to completely cover both Isaac and himself, leaving you and your party trapped outside of the barrier.

"I could ask you the same thing." Isaac said, swinging his leg around, knocking Adam off of his feet. As Adam's jaw as falling, Isaac threw his fist up, connecting his Adam's chin.

A disgusting crack echoed off the walls of the barrier.

"ADAM!" Trixie screamed, trying her hardest to get into the barrier.

No amount of her magic, even after the weeks of training with Adam and Luna, would break open that barrier.

On the other side of the barrier, Chrysalis slammed her hooves desperately at the barrier, hoping to break through.

"ISAAC!" She cried out, tears in her eyes. "ISAAC, NO, PLEASE STOP!"

Both men were also in tears.

Neither wanted this fight. But they were both too set in the idea of the other being an imposter.

Adam thought Isaac was a cruel magic trick caused by the recent horrors sprouting in town, and Isaac, having freshly arrived in Ponyville, had no idea what was happening.

Neither would listen to the others pleas.

Adam quickly jumped to his feet, his left hand glowing. He threw it out, releasing a rope made of light. It wrapped around Isaac's waist.

Adam then threw his arm up, swinging Isaac into the air, and then slamming him headfirst into the ground. As he was going to get up, Adam ran forward, and kicked him in his face as hard as he could. Isaac popped up into the air, and fell back down on his stomach.

Isaac began to crunch up on the ground, drawing his balled fists up to his head, shaking violently while he began to attempt to get on his knees.

Adam drew his mace while Isaac started to shakily stand up.

Isaac drew his handgun, and leveled it at Adam, shaking slightly. His left eye was already closed because of the massive amount of blood leaking from his forehead.

Adam let out a cry of desperation, and charged Isaac, who was about to tap the trigger on the gun.

_________________________________________________________________________________

You sat up slowly in bed. Your dream was weird, but you were used to these kinds of dreams.

Adam and Isaac would never fight.

Equestria was changing your mind.

You yawn loudly, and crack your knuckles.

Lyra had already left the bed, and you couldn't hear any noise coming from the house anywhere, so, you assumed that Lyra and Bon Bon had went out.

Taking advantage of this unique opportunity, you rest your head against the pillows once more, and allow yourself to drift back into sleep.

It had been a very long time since you had been able to sleep like this. It was very nice.

_________________________________________________________________________________

You didn't want to admit it, but you were extremely lonely.

When that human came into your life, you used him, yes.

But he was so kind. So nice to you.

Sure, your loyal minions were nice to you, but that's because they had to be.

Alan could have simply run away from you, but he didn't.

He followed you, he listened to you, he helped you.

He paid attention to you. He cared about you.

He did it all, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

That was what made you miss having him.

What made you regret using him.

You sigh heavily, and cuddle up as tight as you can, to emulate the feeling of something holding you.

He no doubt knows the truth by now, the truth of him being used, and he was probably never going to come back.

And it was your fault.

Childish as it may sound, and as weak as it makes you feel to think about it, all you were doing was putting him through unnecessary trouble, simply because it made you feel good.

Your minions are linked to you, and cannot live without you for too long.

To have someone care about you, and not be required to in order to survive, made you feel amazing.

It also hurt to know that, somewhere out there, Alan was there. Living. Breathing. Smiling.

All without you.

You wish you could approach him, but Equestria didn't trust you.

Not after Canterlot.

It's not your fault.

You didn't choose to feed off of love.

You didn't choose to be painted as a monster.

These things were well in place far before the events in Canterlot.

You sigh again, and close your eyes.

These lonely nights were not uncommon, but still hurt.

_________________________________________________________________________________

"I was wondering when you would call." You said into your phone. You never received calls on this phone unless it was for business. And ever since the Chairman had died, you had no such business anymore. The voice on the other end was a familiar one.

"Isaac, huh?" You responded. "That one might be kind of hard."

The voice laughed, and kept talking. While he was, you gingerly kicked yourself off the wall you were leaning on.

The voice began explaining the details.

"Excuse me." You pardoned yourself as you accidently nudged a man and woman who were passing through the city streets.

You shouldn't have been leaning in such a busy place, anyways.

"He left me for dead. Of course I have no issue with the contract." You said, walking down the street. The people passing by paid no attention to the grim conversation taking place. "How do you want it done?"

Conveniently, Isaac was in DC as you spoke to the voice. You could have the contract complete in literally hours.

"I understand." You said, ending the call.

You were now heading to Holiday's headquarters, to prepare for your next contract.

_________________________________________________________________________________

You sat in Octavia's bed, half-naked, curious to what your father would think about this mess. What he would think about you, if he were still alive.

You laugh to yourself.

Of course he would be proud.

Your father was one of the best men you had ever known, and you weren't just saying that because you loved him.

He regularly gave money to the homeless, he helped veterans find employment, and he seriously supported everyone, no matter their wishes. He firmly believed that anyone and everyone could achieve their desires, should they just try.

And boy, did he make sure they tried.

You stop and remember that the IMO fiercely bothered him, trying with as much energy as they had to recruit him.

As much as you loved your father, he wouldn't make a good mercenary.

He was TOO good for that.

He wouldn't kill as much. He would aim for the knees or arms.

He wouldn't intimidate, extort, or blackmail. He would bargain and compromise.

He wouldn't tend to the wounded officers first, but those who needed it more.

The IMO would have hated him, regardless of how well he would accomplish his missions.

You look around Octavia's room.

The walls were painted a light gray, and there was very little furniture. A single chest sat at the foot of the large bed, and there was a series of drawers organized by the door. On top, there was a small little figurine of a mare, and a trophy next to that.

You could feel your morality slipping from you.

It made you feel dirty.

It made you feel guilty.

Especially when you thought about Rarity.

You begin to have a flashback as you slowly lay your head back down.

_________________________________________________________________________________

He was dead.

He knew he was dead.

Yet there he was, dragging his body, crying.

"GET DOWN! LEAVE HIM!" You shouted into your radio. Gunfire cancelled out the songs of birds and insects, and it ripped up the earth all around you. All of your men had been forced to retreat, and a young man, no older than 20, was shot, and had obviously died during the retreat.

While the rest of your men continued to run, the dead man's friend didn't. He grabbed the arm of his fallen comrade, and started to drag the body.

"GET UP! GET UP ALEX! PLEASE!" He shouted, crying. He began to tug at the arm frantically while dragging. "WAKE UP! PLEASE WAKE UP!"

"LEAVE HIM!" You shouted again.

"HE WON'T WAKE UP! HE WON'T, HE WON'T WAKE UP!" He shouted back.

He didn't make it more than 25 feet away from where his friend had been killed, when blood ripped through his chest and his right arm.

He collapsed beside him, and died with him.

All of these losses were starting to anger you.

It was always the young ones that got themselves killed.

You switch channels on your radio, and talk into it as clearly as you can.

"Zombie-1, status."

After a few moments, yet another young voice comes over, clearly shaken and nervous.

"My partner's dead! I'm all alone out here!"

"Do you still have the rifle?" You asked, as calmly as you can muster.

"Yea-yes sir, wh-what should I do?" He responded. He was terrified.

"I need you to start picking off as many as you can in the building up ahead. At least try to scare them off of us." You said again, trying to remain calm. Spotters weren't trained with the rifles, but being as his partner, the actual sniper, had been killed, he had no choice but to learn. The Spotter sighed deeply into the radio.

"O-Okay. I can do this. I can d-WHAT WAS THAT?! Am I in the open?!" He cried out into the radio. Something, either  a stray bullet or local critter spooked him into thinking someone had him in their sights.

"Relax. There is no way nobody has spotted you. And I know how these guys work. After they killed your partner, they expected you to run away. They don't expect you to remain on that rifle."

"I'll do the best I can, sir. Don't leave me out here."

You put your radio away, and continue the fight.

You were a new guy once, but never do you remember being so scared.

So weak.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Equestria was doing something to you.

You were unsure what.

Weak.

So weak.

All of them, so weak.

So easily taken advantage of.

So helpless.

"No..." You mutter. "No. This is...wrong..."

You sit back up in Octavia's bed, suppressing your thoughts. Why they had become so angry all of the sudden was unknown to you.

You begin to feel light headed.

You begin to watch as reality slips from you yet again, but this time, it is different.

The color red is bleeding over your vision.

What was happening?

_________________________________________________________________________________

"AADEN! DO IT!" Rarity called. She was standing off of the battlefield, but was still audible.

"Bu-"

"NO BUTS! YOU HAVE TO DO IT!" She interrupted.

You sigh, and fall to your knees.

You begin to breathe slowly.

Inhale.

Exhale.

You begin to breathe faster.

You begin to breathe even faster.

Even more fast.

The anger deep inside of you bleeds from the abyss of your soul, coating your body.

Your heartbeat transforms into the thump of a war drum.

An insatiable anger rips through your soul, lighting your very heart with the fire of hate.

You look up at your enemy, a changed person.

You rip the helmet off of your head, and draw your short sword, abandoning your spear and shield. You also abandoned the formation you had taught the other honor guards, who had constructed a phalanx that you headed.

All you could feel was hatred.

Pure, unadulterated, hatred.

Why had Equestria done this to you?

You leap into the air just as you approach your shadowy foes, and your angel wing rips from your back, as it always does. However, rather than the single, angelic wing, a sickening, black, fleshy wing rips it's way out, with shiny and slick appendages connecting the bones and arches.

You plunge the short sword through the torso of the knight you land on, leaping up the moment you land. You impale one in front of you with your wing, and brush the others off with it as well, crying out with rage while you do so.

You turn instinctively, stabbing your knife through the neck of another knight. You rip it out, and swing it around, slicing several other shadows in half.

Once the shadows in the area had been slain, you looked up at the others, who were still advancing in formation.

You couldn't imagine how horrifying you looked to everyone, covered in the gooey black residue the shadows had for "blood". Your golden armor was now completely slicked with it.

You stand up slowly, your wing quivering with hate.

"BROTHERS!" You called. "KILL! MAIM! BURN!"

You took an extremely deep breath, and shouted as loud as you ever have.

"GLORY TO THE FIRST GUARD WHO DIES!"

_________________________________________________________________________________

"Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that's really good!" You said, using your fork to slice off bits of cake and put them in your mouth.

"Gee, thanks Adam!" Pinkie said, joy present in her voice. She looked at Trixie, who sipped at her coffee. "Trixie, I like Adam!"

"Trixie also likes Adam." Trixie said, smiling and looking at Adam out of the corner of her eyes.

Twilight wasn't home, apparently. The little purple dragon said she and Spyra went out somewhere to catch up, so, with your belly rumbling with hunger, you looked for somewhere that served food.

Although you couldn't exactly read Equestrian, you thought the building shaped like a giant dessert would have food.

Dessert.

Desert.

After some silly philosophical thinking, you decided that, maybe, just maybe, deserts weren't so bad.

You met Trixie in one, afterall.

You didn't care much for icing, but Pinkie somehow made it in a way that helped you stomach it.

As you ate and shared banter with both Pinkie and Trixie, the bell on the door jingled, indicating that someone was coming in.

It was Aaden.

He looked like Hell.

He walked over next to you, and sat.

His eyes appeared to be sunken in just a bit, and he looked a little more pale than normal. His eyes, which normally glow with the spark of life, seemed to be completely empty, and cold, at that. His facial hair had advanced just passed the stubble level.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's possessed.

"Man, Aaden, you alright? You look awful." You said, offering him a bite of cake. He holds his hand up and shakes it to deny it.

"I'm not sure if I'm okay. I feel...different." He said. He then looked into your eyes, and the most peculiar thing happened.

You looked away.

Something about his gaze was legitimately frightening.

He then stood back up, mechanical in motion.

"I came by to remind you, we need to train soon. We've had enough rest time. We have a jobs here. We must complete them."

Aaden seemed kind of angry.

"Is something the matter? Aaden, you're kind of sketching us out." You looked around. Pinkie seemed spooked, and Trixie was trying her best to look everywhere but at Aaden.

"I'm fine. Guilt is a powerful thing, I suppose. It leads to a mindset that slips, and falls." He said, staring off into blank space.

"Uhh...?" Your mouth hung open. You weren't sure how to respond. But before you could ask for an elaboration, he was already leaving.

"Wowzers. I've never seen him like that before." Pinkie said, sighing with relief that he had left.

"Is he normally like this, Adam?" Trixie asked.

"No. Aaden was never this blatant and rude. I mean, he seemed almost like he was dead. Like he was a dead man walking."

_________________________________________________________________________________

"So they really are dead..." Twilight said under her breath, staring away from you. She looked up again at you, with hope in her eyes. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

"We believe so. I mean, Aaden is the only one who has shown preliminary signs of any problems. He could either be spiralling into depression or hatred. Or both. Not everypony would accept this fate, regardless of how blissful it may seem to them."

Twilight sipped at her cup, and spoke once more.

"Spyra...will he be okay?" She asked.

"If it wasn't for the amount of relationships he was in right now, he would be much worse off. Celestia not only peered into his mind during the ball a while back. She peered into his soul. She saw something dark growing. Something shadow-like. That's why I'm REALLY here. Sure, I'll help Alan here and there, but my true mission? Observe Aaden. Kill him if need be."

"K-K-Kill?" Twilight stuttered. "CELESTIA told you THAT?"

You sigh.

"She's only looking out for her subjects, Twilight. If Aaden turns out to be a ticking time bomb, and nobody is able to stop him, he could snap. I don't even want to discuss what would happen to the citizens of Ponyville. But as I said, we, we being Celestia and I, believe that the amount of love Aaden receives from all of his relationships, and the support of his friends, just may save him. He may grow dark for a period of time. He may forget that his heart lies in his chest. But he has the tools to rediscover it."

_________________________________________________________________________________

They were in a bar, drinking.

An easy target.

The rain that this night brought made the crowds outside huddle in the street, making an escape extremely easy.

Isaac wasn't drinking, but leaning next to his friends.

You stepped inside, and as you did, Isaac pushed off of the wall, and walked off into the crowd of people.

The restrooms.

You slowly pushed your way through the crowd of people, lifting your hoodie over your head as you approached the bathrooms.

You walked down a dimly lit hallway, to the mens restroom.

You slowly pushed open the door.

"What?" You said out loud.

It was empty.

Just then, you heard something whiz through the air, and then an enormous pain filled your face.

You hit the ground hard, hitting the back of your head on the floor.

Isaac stepped out from behind the door, and stood over your body. He lifted you by the neck of your hoodie, and gently removed the hood and glasses off of your head. He smiled solemnly.

"I would recognize you anywhere. I know what you're here for. I knew you would be here." He said, still smiling. "So I came to you, to make it easier."

You immediately reached for your gun, but it wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" He said, holding up your gun. "Yeah, I snagged it when you walked passed me. Can't believe I hid from you so easily. I could've taught you better than the Chairman."

"YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!" You screamed, tears filling your eyes. You stood up, and clenched your fists at your sides. His solemn smile didn't fade.

"That what they told you? That I left you? You should know me better. I would never leave you."

Tears now flowed down your cheeks. You wanted revenge. You had to avenge what you had lost.

"Come with me. You'll get what you want."

You followed Isaac out of the bar, and into the rain. You had pulled your hoodie up to block the rain, and hurried after Isaac. He walked fast, the sad smile still present. The rain didn't seem to phase him.

You walked inside of a large building, what was actually a hospital, and he led you up the staircase.

Flight after flight, you both finally arrived at the roof. Isaac put a small recorder by the door, and walked to the edge of the roof, turning around towards you.

Rain was falling, but falling gently now.

"Listen to the recorder. Then you will get what you want." He said, his arms hanging at his sides.

You angrily snatch the radio, and click the button as forcibly as you can.

The Chairman's laughter comes over it.

"Looks like you won't be busy anymore." He said.

"You son of a bitch! I'll kill you! I swear to God, I, You, GOD, DAMN, IT! I CAN'T LEAVE THEM! I'D RATHER DIE!"

You drop the recorder, and as you do tears flow freely.

Those few sentences completely shattered everything that you knew

The Chairman lied to you.

Such a simple lie, yet it went this far.

When he "saved" you from the burning house, it was a house he set fire to.

You were merely an elaborate pawn to be used against your father.

For years, you had trained, all to kill your own father.

"Dad..." You muttered, looking at him.

He looked slowly up at the sky, and spread his arms wide.

He then began to tilt his neck back slowly.

"DAD!" You screamed.

The sad smile didn't fade from his face.

You sprinted forward, your boots clapping in the water puddles forming on the roof.

You threw your hand out, in an attempt to grab his hand.

Your fingers only brushed against the tips of his fingers.

That was the only physical contact you have had with your father in a decade.

And it would be the last contact you'd ever had with him.

His eyes remained closed as he fell.

The smile didn't fade.

_________________________________________________________________________________

I'm sorry, Seth.

It's better this way.

Heh.

How ironic is it?

You were born at this hospital.

Your mother was also born here.

And now, I die here.

I love you, Seth.

I should have come sooner.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

Things could have been different.