Equilibrium

Equestria. Must. Fall.

That is what the Sea Ponies told Kurt Foalington when he asked them how to fix everything that was wrong with the world. The horrifying practices of the late Queen’s Old Guard made the giant stallion aware of the world’s problems that had occurred long before Equestria even existed. But destroying the nation couldn’t have been the way. As a Royal guard once upon a time, Kurt couldn’t allow that, even if it did seem like a viable option to the worm in his brain.

The giant burgundy stallion sat in the forest, shedding tears for the ones that were lost with the destruction of the giant metal tree in Stalliongrad, shedding tears in relief that his younger brother wasn’t among the death toll, shedding tears that the unusually powerful changeling had become attached to his brother in the first place. He knew not how a changeling managed to get close to his brother at all- said brother becoming a celebrity as far as he could tell from a distance, who would logically have a number of ponies around him to keep watch for changelings, or overly-eccentric fans at least.

It was a changeling, however. A single changeling, and not the Queen, that had managed to accumulate such power as to rend the fabric of reality itself. We saw things in the natural tears that changeling’s aura had created.

So did Kurt, he saw more than most everyone. He needed answers, better answers. After all, despite the Sea Ponies’ request, the kid couldn’t betray his comrades- his family, as much as he thought they hated him. He couldn’t send Equestria back to where the ponies came from- far to the north where the ice and blistering cold of the ancient motherland still remained.

He stamped a hoof into the ground repeatedly. As he did so, Kurt harshly hissed expletives he learned from inside jokes within the Canterlot Guard. Dry leaves were stamped and sent a few inches into the air, only to softly drop back onto the forest ground once more.

What now? Kurt thought as he sniffled. After blowing his nose with a large leaf, he stood up on shaking legs and stepped forward towards a random direction generally away from Stalliongrad.

He still gnashed his teeth at the curse inflicted upon him by the corpse of Kurgan Indrik. Kurt knew that his brother would grow old and die, potentially assisting to build a family before then. No, not potentially. The stallion was a celebrity now. As far as his older brother knew, Cornelius already had his special somepony.

The idea that he would be an uncle. In his mind, he knew that was a good thing. He always smiled at the thought of being an uncle, on account of his immortality coming with infertility. However, the more he smiled at the thought, the more the smile wavered.

But then the worm spoke.

Your only good quality is violence, it instilled into Kurt’s brain.

Yeah, Kurt thought, it is…

What now, my only companion? That changeling is dead, but it had become attached to your brother. Changelings are a parasite, my friend...

His lips curled into scowl with teeth clenched. “That damned Changeling!” Kurt snarled as he swung a hoof at a nearby tree. The immense force from the massive, titanic muscles to the hard-as-steel hooves impacted into the tree, and horrible snapping emitted. There was pain, but the massive stallion had learned to ignore it. The hoof kept on flying as splinters shot out from the powerful displacement. A few seconds later, the rest of the tree followed suit and plummeted to the forest floor. Kurt’s enraged shouting devolved into garbled words as he repeated similar actions on other trees.

His eyes beheld red and no other colours. The trees were red, the splinters were red, his burgundy hided forelegs were already a shade of red. He could feel the rage pool through his veins, the same rage he felt when he loses control and lashes out in what onlookers could assume would be desperation… if the onlookers didn’t immediately run away.

Let’s find something to eat, the worm instilled.

“Yes, let’s,” Kurt muttered as he galloped away from the splintered carnage he had left- fallen nests and all. The birds, of course, were not pleased, but the massive stallion’s bloodshot eyes were the kind of eyes that caused nightmares from a single second of exposure.

—

Several hours after that childish tantrum, the Stalliongrad-stationed Guard Captain whistled as she and two others swooped into a rather ruinous sight. Multiple trees smashed to pieces, left for the forest critters to build a nice bundle of homes with- on account of the already-ruined homes the trees used to house. Some frustrated birds were pulling nests together from the messes they made when said nests fell. Luckily, it was not the season for eggs.

“What happened here?” She asked, more to herself than anything. She had never seen anything like the destruction that had happened, even for a Manticore’s activities.

The nearest bird immediately chirped up a storm in response- the ferocity of which even caused the guards to raise a foreleg. The lead guard immediately regret asking.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Captain Jet Wing said.

The bird continued furiously chirping before another guard called to the Captain.

“Ma’am, I found hoof marks- big ones,” one guard reported after taking a close look at one ruined tree.

“How big?” Jet asked.

“Foalington big, ma’am.”

The tall armoured pegasus mare glanced at the hoof prints her cohort pointed out. Her eyes followed them further into the forest in a relatively straight line.

“By Luna’s socks… He’s getting worse,” Jet Wing muttered before shooting a look back to the guard who found the prints, “And more reckless…”

She turned to her right-hand comrade. “Report this find to Commander Hammer Fell. Have him contact the Canterlot Garrison. His tracks appear to be going in that direction.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the guard gave a quick salute before darting back to Stalliongrad.

“You,” Jet Wing jabbed a hoof towards the other guard- who seemed spell-bound by the results of past carnage until he snapped out of it and stood at-attention. “Come with me. We’ll fly low, but not too low, see if we can track him ourselves.”

The other guard nodded and took to the sky before his superior.

“What’s with this Kurt guy, anyway?”

Jet gave the young kid a weird look. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

The guard meekly nodded, “Well, I did get the memo. I just didn’t understand it.”

“The guy’s an Earth pony; full name Kurt Foalington. His fighting prowess knows no equal in Equestria. Since he was a foal, he’s been prone to… violent tendencies- though he wasn’t aware of it in his foalhood. We tried to harness his talents for the Guard… and we were successful until he suddenly went AWOL. Far as the entire Equestrian Guard is concerned, any sighting is to be reported immediately and, unless you have a skilled squadron with you, to never engage. The kid beat a Manticore with his bare hooves, and he’s well-trained against every kind of pony.”

“We can do it, though, right Captain?”

“No, Plate Mail, we alone cannot manage,” Jet replied, “We’re only to find him and tail him.”

—

At the edge of the massive forest, Kurt spotted the tall mountainous region. The tallest of which held the Equestrian capital city of Canterlot on one side, partially built into a carved-out section, partially held aloft through the wonders of levitation runes- the same magic that made that Stalliongrad tree possible.

He didn’t want to go back there. He didn’t want to cause more grief for his old comrades in the Royal Guard. A self-imposed isolation from his home city; something he repeats with two other cities.

What’s this hesitation? he wondered.

We are being followed, my companion.

Kurt turned around, and eyed the skies. Since his isolation, and increased reliance on himself, he had developed a more acute sense of sight, easily spotting the two armoured pegasus ponies keeping a good distance from the massive stallion.

They are guards, the worm instilled, Guards of Stalliongrad… They plan to end us…

“True,” Kurt muttered, “But they are comrades…”

But they have always planned to end us... We must stop them… or they will get more.

Kurt’s skin began to shiver in anticipation, but he instead directed himself to gallop along the edge of the forest, south-west, in the general direction of Vanhoover.

“I am not a monster,” he muttered.