He was running. His breathing was ragged, and his legs felt like lead, but he could not stop. Branches whipped his face, and thorns grappled his clothes, but he kept powering on. His surroundings passed him by in a blur; a dark, green forest filled with dense brush and bioluminescent shrubbery.

There was a snap, and he ducked. The monster's teeth grazed his hair, and he let loose a grunt as a needle-sharp tooth scraped the top of his scalp. He didn't slow down, and he could once more hear the creature in hot pursuit.

Dean's eyes flicked in every direction, but it seemed as though his super-human sight and hearing had abandoned him. He had to rely on his own primal instincts now, and every fiber of his being told him not to slow down. His body was slick with sweat, and blood ran through his hair and along his face. His left arm hung limply at his side.

The pressure in his chest and the feeling in his legs became too much. Stopping, Dean turned and regarded the forest behind him. The darkness seemed to envelope around him in a suffocating blanket, and the sounds of nightlife were all but gone. He could feel a single pair of eyes on him, but the feeling came from every direction at the same time. The hairs on his neck stood on end, and his muscles twitched as a sense came over him. He dropped his foot back into a fighting stance...

...and tripped on a root.

Dean found himself falling and tumbling down a hill. His world rolled and churned, and he began to feel sick. A rock smashed his elbow and the limb exploded in pain. His legs deflected off a tree, and the back of his head smashed into the dirt. Even with so many collisions, he continued to roll, and he seemed to be picking up speed.

Dean screamed then, and it suddenly felt as though the rolling was now him free falling. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the sounds of wind in his ears became sounds of yelling, screaming, and explosions.

Snapping his eyes open, he flinched as a bolt of Hard light deflected off his shoulder and smashed into the ground beside him. Instinctual training kicked in, and he let fly a burst of bullets within a nanosecond. The Orithian soldier was too slow, and its head exploded into a gory mess. Dean sprinted through the street and into the occupied building before kicking the door with all his might. The wooden contraption flew down a hallway and decapitated an Orith soldier lying in wait for the Human. His rifle barked and recoiled as he swept from room to room, mercilessly destroying the invaders with robotic precision.

In the last room, a clawed hand flashed out and grabbed the barrel of his gun before ripping it from his grip. Without a trace of emotion, Dean rolled into the sudden pull, and came up with his knife in one hand. The soldier had apparently not expected his movements, as it was still turning to face him.

Dean leapt forward and batted the alien's gun away from him, causing it to discharge harmlessly into the door frame. His knife flashed through the air with uncanny precision, and buried itself into the Orithian soldier's neck.

The alien gave a screech of pain before delivering a wild haymaker into Dean's face. The man's head hardly budged from the hit, and he let loose a snarl as he wound his arm back. With the force of a truck, backed by the exosuits power, Dean's fist smashed through the unarmoured section of the alien's stomach and out the back before being buried in the wall. The alien gave a final gurgle before slowly slouching forward; Dean removed his hand and retracted his knife during the movement.

The sounds of gunfire and the yells of his fellow soldiers caused Dean to snap his attention towards the streets once more, and he quickly retrieved his rifle. He took a single step forward, when a force slammed into his back and sent him flying. Dean's eyes instinctively shut as he winced, and upon opening them, he found himself lying in the house's backyard. He heard a scream, and quickly sprang to his feet. The sounds of fighting in the streets had stopped, and other than the scream, all was quiet. He tried to see into the kitchen he had been forcefully ejected from, but a heavy black mist shrouded the entryway. An uncanny feeling suddenly crept up Dean's spine, and a slight ringing developed in his ears.

Raising his rifle, Dean slowly shuffled forward. Sweat accumulated on his brow, and his eyes remained locked on the doorway. His hand squeezed the foregrip on his gun, and the device groaned in protest from the force. Dean didn't notice, and instead took another cautious step forward. His heartbeat was erratic, and with every second of silence, his breathing grew more labored.

Seeing something in the doorway move, he immediately pulled the trigger. He heard a thump, but that was it. For exactly two seconds, everything was silent. Dean had begun to lower his rifle, when a large being suddenly flew through the doorway and slammed into his chest.

With a cry of surprise, the man dropped his gun and tried to deflect the strange being with his arm, but the way it impacted him and seemed to wrap around his body brought him to the ground anyway.

Thinking an enemy had grabbed him, Dean bucked his pelvis upwards, causing the being to fly over his head and smash into the ground behind him. The soldier scrambled across the ground, and his hand rested on the grip of his rifle. He quickly snatched the weapon up and rose to a crouched position facing the attacker.

The thing didn't move, and all was silent. A breeze blew through the air, and a nearby tree rustled in the wind. Dean just stood there, staring at the being as a sense of familiarity washed over him. His senses screamed that he was missing something. He ignored the feeling, and decided not to take any risks.

Pulling the trigger, he shot the being in what appeared to be its leg. There was no movement or reaction, and the man slowly crept forward; his muscles tensed. His breathing quickened, and slowly but surely, details began to reveal themselves. Mauve leggings, a knee-length wool coat in a deep shade of charcoal, dark, shoulder length hair... and red blood.

Dean holstered the rifle and quickly fell to his knees before the body of his wife. Silent tears fell down his cheeks, and his mouth tried to form words. His hands shook as he flipped her body over, and her pale skin and soulless eyes stared up at him. His fingers brushed her cheek, like she was a clay pot and the slightest movement would cause her to break.

"Poetic, isn't it?"

The voice came from behind him, but Dean didn't turn. He knew who was there, and he trembled in fear. He could hear the slimy appendages snaking across the grass towards him, and he could feel its many eyes glaring into the back of his head.

"W-What do you want? Why are you doing this?" Dean's voice seemed to come in a hoarse whisper, and his eyes couldn't leave Marie. The monster laughed.

"My, to make you see, Human. You have been blinded, and I intend to open your eyes!"

Fear was replaced by anger, and the shaking in Dean's hands increased as rage built within him. He stood and turned to face the monster, but as soon as his anger had appeared, it suddenly abandoned him.

Twilight stood before him, her cheery smile seeming to mock him as she stared into his eyes. His hand slowly left the grip of his pistol, and he took a small step back. His heel hit the body of his wife.

"I can't have you leave, Dean! You mean too much to me!"

It was Twilight's voice, but at the same time, it wasn't. The sound was slightly distorted, as if she were talking from behind a wall of water. Dean shook his head.

"I-I can't stay. My family needs me... my people need me!" A slight breeze blew through, and Dean shivered. Even with his armor on, he felt cold. It circled his heart, his very soul, and seemed to squeeze inwards. His hand once more lowered to his gun.

"Dean, your wife and son are dead! You can't go back, not after you killed them." Twilight's words stung like a whip, and Dean visibly recoiled. Never would he have imagined hearing such things from his friend. He started to grow angry.

"I did no such thing! I sent them away to keep them safe, to protect them! How was I to know of the sudden Orith push, or that they had infiltrated the lines! It's not my fault!"

Dean's words seemed more desperate than anything. Before, he could even come to a conclusion to the turmoil of his thoughts, Twilight did it for him.

"Sounds like an excuse to me. You don't want to live with your failure. Your wife is dead, as is your son. I--"

"NO THEY AREN'T!!" Dean roared at the little Alicorn before him. He took a menacing step forward and jabbed his finger at Twilight; she didn't flinch. "And what about you?! You Alicorns are supposed to be powerful! Your country fell, and here I am trying to pick up the pieces! I could be back home, keeping my family safe! I could have helped end the war! Instead, I'm stuck because of you! FOR ALL I KNOW, I'M ALREADY DEAD!!"

Memories overtook him, and Dean collapsed onto his knees before burying his face in his hands. The lab had exploded, and he was in it. Maybe he died from blood loss, or was instantly vaporized in the ensuing explosion. Maybe the "portal" he had seen was merely his soul going to hell.

'This has to be my Hell.' Dean thought.

He heard Twilight walk past him, but didn't bother to look. He had lowered his hands, and was merely staring at the ground with a deadened expression. He heard a ripping sound.

"I will make you mine. You will love me, as I love you." What sounded like flesh tearing apart broke Dean from his stupor, and he turned to see what was happening. His eyes widened in horror.

Marie wasn't dead, and her pleading eyes looked up into his as she weakly held an arm towards him. Her arm fell when Twilight's horn lit, and her barely beating heart was ripped from her chest. The little pony then proceeded to throw the organ at him, and he caught it as it smacked against his chest. His vision began to double, and nausea threatened to overtake him.

"There, now you will only be able to love me! No more wife, only m--" Twilight's happy tone was brutally cut off when Dean fired the first bullet. It tore through her leg and exploded in the dirt. The second one came as fast as the first and shot straight through her chest. Twilight collapsed without a sound as her insides were eviscerated.

Dean kept pulling the trigger, but on the sixth shot, he stopped. Tears once again streaked down his face, and the man stared at the bloody pulp that used to be Twilight's corpse. His breathing came in a hacking gasp, and horror slowly started to dominate the many expressions going through his mind.

"T-Twilight?" Dean whispered, more to himself than anyone. Her mane fluttered in the breeze, the feathers of her bent and broken wings gently waved through the air. Her eyes stared at the ground, and blood pooled from her mouth. He took a step backwards.

"T-Twilight??"

Dean stared at the corpse for what seemed like hours, when in reality it was seconds. His eyes never drifted from the body, and everything around him came to a stop. No sound was uttered, no move was made.

A gurgle escaped his friend's throat, and the man flinched.

In less than a second, Dean brought his pistol to his own mouth, and pulled the trigger.

*****

"AAAAGHH!!"

Twilight woke with a start. Her eyes shot open, and her wings sprung wide in panic. She felt something slam into her chest, and a hacking wheeze escaped from her mouth. While the pain hadn't yet registered, her mind had. She groaned as a flurry of movement was caught in the corner of her eye.

Blinking rapidly, with tears of pain nearly blinding her, Twilight stared at the towering form of the Sergeant; more specifically, the pistol he was wielding as he wildly moved about the room. His breaths came in rapid gasps, and his frazzled hair paired with the cloud that seemed to cover his eyes.

Twilight shivered as the man bumped into a desk, and quickly blew it apart with a bullet. She hardly saw him move, and whimpered as he finally noticed her. The barrel of his pistol quickly locked onto her head.

"Don't move." Her friend growled, causing her ears to wilt back. Her breathing quickened as Twilight realized she was in actual danger. The Sergeant's entire body was tense, and his hands were locked on his gun. Fear raced through her heart, and her lip quivered.

"D-D-Dean, it's me... it's Twilight..." Her words came in a whisper, and she gently pushed herself up from the bed. This was a mistake, and a bullet passed to her left before an explosion of stone hit her in the side. Twilight gave a cry of surprise and pain as a jagged piece sliced across her left whither.

"I SAID DON'T MOVE!!" The Sergeant roared as he took a menacing step forward. Twilight began to cry, but her body remained locked up in terror. Her eyes desperately searched the Sergeant's, and tears poured down her face.

There was a creak, and the room suddenly spun in a flurry of movement. A dark shape rocketed from the door, and smashed into the Sergeants arm. His gun clattered to the ground, and Twilight gave a cry of fear and surprise as the chair beside her bed cracked and splintered apart. Her eyes never left the Sergeant however, and she watched as Midnight Flow tried to wrestle the Human to the ground.

Dean, in his crazed state, wasn't having any of it. His elbow came around and smashed into the Pegasus' forehead, knocking his helmet off and sending him staggering back. Midnight tried to flap his wings to get away, but wasn't quick enough as the Human's left hand launched forward and grabbed him by the throat. He smashed the Pegasus against the wall, causing the air to escape his lungs, and brought his right hand around to grasp the hilt of his knife.

Twilight, who had been shocked to silence, watched in fear as the room finally went quiet. She could hear Midnight's rasps as he tried to bring in air, and the Sergeant's labored breathing caused her to wince. She watched as the fog that had been in Dean's eyes slowly lifted, and the Human blinked as he took in his surroundings for the first time. His hand lowered, and his posture went ridgid.

"Midnight?"

Dean's eyes locked onto the pegasus in confusion, then shock, and upon looking around the room, at his gun, and Twilight's bleeding side... they turned to horror.

Dean dropped Midnight and scrambled backwards. He tripped over the broken chair, and landed on the ground with a thud. He began to hyperventilate, and he scrambled away from the two ponies whom he called friends. His eyes kept switching from the pistol, to Twilight and to Midnight, and he soon found his back against the wall of the room. Even then, he continued trying to push himself into the cold hard surface behind him.

Twilight, seeing the man she loved in distress, jumped down from the bed and sprinted towards him. She saw his eyes light up in fear, and as she came within a few feet, his arms raised to his face in a desperate form of protection. The action was unneeded, and Twilight slammed into his torso before quickly wrapping him in the strongest hug she could muster.

"G-Get away, I-I'm not s-safe!" Dean's words came in a rush as he attempted to push Twilight away from him. She didn't budge, and Dean grew more panicked. Another body suddenly wrapped around him, and Dean found Midnight tightly wrapped around his shoulders above Twilight.

The strength left the Sergeant, and he was left sitting with his arms slightly raised. Looking down, he desperately wanted to return the hug and scratch behind her ears. His eyes drifted to his left arm as it began to slowly lower.

Dean's arm snatched Twilight by the throat. There wasn't but a second before a loud and meaty crack echoed around the room. Twilight's dead eyes stared up into his as blood trickled from her mouth.

Dean abruptly stood, his head swirling. He felt the need to vomit and cry at the same time, but with tremendous will, he kept himself from falling apart. With shaky hands, he reached towards his tactical vest on the single chair in the room and removed the BAI Foam. He quickly placed it beside Twilight and Midnight, both of whom were staring up at him with fear and sadness.

Dean grimaced.

"A-Apply the BAI Foam to the wound." He muttered before hurrying towards the door. His vest, helmet, and pistol were left discarded on the chair and floor.

As Dean left, Twilight slowly turned and looked at Midnight. Tears appeared in her eyes, and she couldn't help but let out a sniffle. Suddenly, she was wrapped in a hug, but not from the pegasus to her left.

She heard Spitfire's scratchy voice trying to sooth her, and she instinctively leaned into her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Twilight shuttered as she was held. If she opened her eyes, then she would surely see Dean with his gun pointed at her, and she would truly see the terrified look in his eyes once more.

"It's okay Princess, you're going to be okay."

The words of Spitfire finally registered in Twilight's mind, and the crying began to putter out. She gave a few sniffles, before slowly pulling away from the Pegasus, unwrapping her forelegs from around her. She met the Captain's eyes and gave a brief smile before looking to the side.

"Thanks, Spitfire, I needed that." She gave a half-hearted chuckle, but it quickly died in her throat. She noticed that Midnight had left, and the sounds of voices and movement going on out in the barracks. She heard a few officers yelling, and after another moment, everything went silent once again. Twilight's ears wilted, and her tail swished in anxiety.

"W-Where did Midnight go?' She faced the Pegasus once more, who gave a shrug in response to her question.

"After Dean, I think. It's probably best that our Human friend has a fellow soldier to talk to. I had something similar happen to me once, and Midnight snapped me out of it pretty quick. If anyone can help the Sergeant, it's him." Spitfire then gestured towards the bed. "I think it's best you went back to sleep, your highness. The sun rises in about three hours, and we have much work to do when it does."

Twilight's eyes seemed to droop with Spitfire's words, and she gave a dull nod as she began to sit up. That is, until her shoulder made itself known.

Hissing in pain, Twilight looked down at the canister the Sergeant had left. Using her magic, she quickly uncapped the bottle and sprayed the strange substance on her cut. After seeing the Sergeant doing it, she had no problem applying the proper amount. There was a small stinging sensation, but she sighed in pleasure when the pain seemed to disappear. Placing the canister back down, Twilight hopped up into her bed and snuggled down.

"Spitfire?"

The Pegasus paused as she was about to slip out of the room. Her attention returned to Twilight.

"Is Dean going to be alright?" The question, while short, caused the Captain's ears to wilt and her eyes to meet the floor. Such a question was impossible to answer. The Human had been fighting for the last seven years in a brutal war, and he was thrust into theirs without so much as a breather. She knew a few soldiers who had snapped, and were currently in and around the hospital. If that could happen in two years, then what could happen to Dean, who had fought for seven? He carried so much responsibility, and it seemed to slowly be getting to him. She couldn't imagine what that man had to go through.

"I-I hope so Princess. I truly hope so."

Spitfire turned and left without another word, leaving Princess Twilight to an uneasy sleep.

*****

The moon sat low in the sky, out over the ocean. Its craters and rock beautifully outlined against the starry night sky. The storm had passed, and the waters below were calm. Nary a sound could be heard in the night air, no birds, beasts, or waves. Only a serene silence.

Dean sat beside the same tree he had found Twilight. His eyes stared out across the ocean, and into the moon, analyzing it, studying it. Never before had he seen such a beautiful sight, not anywhere on Earth at least. He was truly in a world full of fantasy and magic, one that he was tasked with saving. Even with all the beauty, darkness lurked in the deep. Monsters meddled in his mind, and his grip on sanity was quickly coming undone.

"I nearly shot her." He whispered to the night sky, his face falling into a frown. He remembered the look of terror in her eyes, and the anger he felt coursing through him. Dean brought his hands up and studied them. Worn and scarred, used to deal death and destruction to the enemies of Humanity. He was a merciless killer, and he had nearly caused irreversible damage when he brought that gun to his friends head. Seven years he fought, and it now felt as though his Humanity was coming undone. Nothing but a cold hearted killer, an animal, lay underneath his skin. Even if he did make it back home, would he even be accepted? Would his family still love him when they won the war, and he was able to see them again. Was--

A flash of pain erupted in Dean's head, and he groaned. He heard a sound, and his eyes rose to see his wife standing only a few feet away. Mouth falling open, the pain in Dean's head went ignored as his world seemed to freeze around him. All he could do was take in the beauty of his wife as her dress blew in a nonexistent breeze.

And then she spoke.

"I am gone Dean. You must let go."

Her voice was clear as day, but Dean could not form words. His mouth flapped as he tried in vain to respond, and his left hand slowly reached out towards her figure. Then it retracted.

"You can't be. Y-You're just that monster in my head, telling me lies. You and Jaxon are safe." He murmured. His voice cracked, and a single, muffled sob escaped him. It was more of a cough than anything, but the emotion showed in his eyes. A tear ran down his face, and he stared at her silhouette. A sad look came across Marie, and she slowly dissipated in the shallow breeze. There was a glitter, and then a ghost of a whisper, one he couldn't make out. Sitting back, Dean sighed. The sound of the ocean waves caused his eyes to droop, but he knew it wouldn't put him to sleep.

After what he had seen... he doubted he would be getting rest anytime soon.

The sound of hoofsteps sounded up the path to his left, but Dean didn't so much as move. He recognized the stealthy gate of Midnight, and he could only sigh as the pony got closer. He had nearly killed him as well, one of the few friends he had on this planet. While Dean felt a bond with the squad he had chosen, Midnight was different. He was curious about Humanity, in a good way, he was supportive, and an incredible fighter. He was someone Dean could trust, this much he knew. Dean knew he had failed in the task of not getting close to anyone on this planet, and he knew that he needed to do everything in his power to keep the ones he cared about safe. So many of his friends were killed, so many lives taken. He was powerless to stop it then, but here... here he had that power. 'He was more advanced, more skilled in combat. He could be the savior this world needed. He should leave the Resistance and take out the Emperor, alone. End the war, keep his friends safe. He would rule over them with an iron fist, and nothing could stand in their wa--'

"I hope you don't mind if I sit down?" Midnight whispered to his left.

Dean shook his head and idly waved his arm. The guttural voice that had appeared in his head had disappeared, and his thoughts drifted once more to the situation he had just caused. No doubt the entire barracks would be awake and alert.

Midnight settled down beside Dean, his large wings folding neatly against his body. The Pegasus's eyes reflected concern as he glanced at Dean, sensing the turmoil within him.

"Bad dream back there?" Midnight's voice was gentle, barely above a whisper, yet it carried a weight of understanding.

Dean let out a humorless chuckle, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "You could say that," he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion and self-doubt. There was a brief moment of hesitation as Dean stared out into the night sky. "I nearly lost it back there. I could have... I could have killed her."

Midnight's expression softened, a glint of empathy shimmering in his eyes. "But you didn't," he said reassuringly. "You stopped yourself. That's what matters."

Dean nodded slowly, his thoughts swirling like the restless ocean far beneath them. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, Midnight," he confessed, his voice barely audible over the whisper of the night breeze. "I feel like I'm losing myself, piece by piece. For seven years I have fought, and for seven years I watched as my world burned. Now here I am, fighting another war against more genocidal maniacs. I-I'm just so tired.

The Pegasus reached out a comforting hoof, resting it lightly on Dean's shoulder. "You're not alone in this, Dean," Midnight said, his voice firm with conviction. "We're all in this together. You've saved us countless times, and we're here to support you now. The Resistance trusts you, Twilight trusts you, and I trust you. What we need is for you to trust us... to help you.

Dean was silent, his hair blowing in the breeze. The serene backdrop of the stars and ocean lulled him to a sense of calm, and the man gave a sigh. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned back against the tree.

Dean looked up at Midnight, gratitude mingling with the weariness etched into his features. "Thanks, Midnight," he murmured, the weight on his shoulders feeling slightly lighter with the Pegasus's reassurance. However, not all was right, and Dean knew it. The resistance trusted him, along with his friends, but he didn't trust himself. He needed to finish the mission before he could be fully compromised. There has been enough death already, and the plan he had formulated would result in even more. If Dean was being honest, he didn't know what to do.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the only sound the rhythmic lullaby of the waves against the cliff face. Dean found solace in the presence of his friend, a slight beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him. He continued to stare up into the sky, and his lips pursed as he tried to make out any familiar constellations. Finally, he turned to Midnight.

"You should head back to the barracks and get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." Dean heard Midnight sigh and saw him shake his head.

"No can do, Sergeant. I am not leaving you alone tonight." Midnight's voice was firm but quiet, and Dean felt a smile tugging at his lips. He quickly forced himself to frown. He would not have his friend suffer what he was going through.

"That's an order, Midnight. I will make you run laps 'till you drop tomorrow if you don't obey my order." Dean stated.

Dean was expecting a reaction, obviously, but he was surprised when Midnight's brow scrunched and his tongue stuck out with a 'meh' sound. Dean's frown deepened as he fully turned his head.

"I outrank you, Dean. You aren't getting rid of me."

He blinked, momentarily stunned. The absurdity of it—the Pegasus defying orders—was both infuriating and endearing. After a moment's pause, he sighed, conceding defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But if you fall asleep, I’m carrying you back to the barracks.”

Midnight snorted, wings ruffling. “Deal.”

And so they sat, two unlikely companions under the star-studded canopy. Dean’s doubts remained, but in Midnight’s unwavering loyalty, he found a glimmer of hope. Tomorrow would come, with its questions and uncertainties. But for now, they rested—a soldier and his winged confidant, bound by more than duty.

The waves continued their lullaby, and Dean closed his eyes, resting. The stars watched over them, silent witnesses to a friendship forged through duty and understanding.

*****

"Next!"

Dean watched as the next contender stepped into the circle, facing him. It was a light-yellow pegasus stallion wearing haphazard armor and carrying a blunted spear and wooden sword. Dean carried the same weapons.

For the last two hours, the Sergeant had been selecting random ponies from their training and having them contend against him. It was a test to see their hoof to hand skills against a bipedal enemy, moreso the Elves. While this was going on, the others were busy training. Dozens of practice dummies stood sentry, their hay torso's being shredded by spears, swords, and crossbow bolts. Various pony squads practiced a bounding overwatch tactic as they approached a target house before initiating a sweep of the building. They used little wooden blocks to mimic grenades and flashbangs.

Many civilians, mostly mares and foals, watched from the ramparts or from various spots around the fort.

Dean adjusted his stance as the pony overseeing the bout lowered his hoof. He wasn't wearing any armor, other than his vest, but even then he was a terrifying sight. He saw the stallion before him visibly gulp before he took off like a rocket. Cool as a cucumber, Dean sidestepped to the left, watching as the stallion flew past him, his spear missing by mere inches. Dean smirked before quickly raising his sword and smacking the stallion in the chest.

"Point for the Sergeant."

Dean didn't say anything as the stallion stood up and shook his head. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Dean, and he snorted before pawing at the ground. He dropped the spear, and in exchange, grabbed the wooden sword in his mouth. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"We don't have all day, soldier, quite lollygagging." Dean snapped.

The pony charged forward, but instead of instantly going in for the kill, he feinted to the left. Dean, seeing the move coming from a mile away, easily jumped right and brought his sword down. However, instead of an easy point, the stallion rolled to the side while his own sword smacked Dean's away from hitting true.

Dean smiled as the stallion rose and squared off against him once more. He watched as the stallion shuffled closer. Now was the time to strike.

Moving quickly, Dean stepped right and brought his sword in a wide arc. The guard's eyes widened as the wooden baton swished through the air, and quickly ducked under the swing. However, he did not account for Dean being so close. The human kicked the guard's front legs out from under him, and reversed his grip on his sword before bringing it down to rest on the guard's neck. The stallion groaned.

"Good try, trooper, report to your station and continue your practice." Dean stood and pointed his sword at the ground. As the stallion stood and cantered to his training area, Dean caught a glimpse of purple in the small crowd of ponies, and his face lit up in a smirk as Twilight and Spike both approached him. The guards and a few civilian's bowed as she approached, but she waved them up with a roll of her eyes. Dean himself was fixated on her mane, which was ironically tied back into a ponytail. Her face lit up as she trotted over to Dean and nuzzled his leg. He chuckled as he placed a hand on her head, rubbing it affectionately.

"How ya' doin' Twiggles? I was just getting ready to finish up here." Dean smirked as Twilight pouted. The guards nearby wisely didn't make a noise, though a few did smirk at the indignant scoff she gave me.

"I'm doing fine, monkey. I thought I'd bring Spike and we'd come and say hello. Afterwards, I was going to oversee the Aether Veil generators with General Blight while you did your... preparations." Her ears folded back, and a heavy cloud seemed to fall across the training yard. The guards slowed down in their training, and Dean felt a shiver run up his spine. It was four days until the invasion, and everyone was trying to get into a proper mindset. Later today, he was scheduled to meet with the officers and council-members to determine how the attack would take place. Currently, Dean's personal squad was running a recon mission without him. They were to find troop movements and determine a path the Resistance could use in order to reach Canterlot undetected. Another group had been sent out to do the same, but were instead a decoy. They were to cause havoc on some supply trains returning to Equestria, and were to make it look like an attack would come to the city of Vanhoover. Dean had scoffed when General Blight had told him the name; this world was truly just a bunch of puns about equines.

Returning his focus to Twilight, an idea struck him as a smirk grew on his face. She was currently going on about the intricacies of needing to fuel a specific gem to attach it to certain ley lines in order to create the designated invisibility field. Essentially, calculating the surface area of what the dome needs to reach.

"Twi, how about you and I spar." Dean spoke with confidence, and his smirk grew when Twilight looked at him with confusion. He nodded to Spike, who walked off the small arena and towards Lucy, who was watching from the sidelines.

"Spar? Like a practice fight? I-I dunno if..." One of her ears flopped down as her head tilted to the side. A look of contemplation overcame her, and whispers could be heard amongst the guard who had heard Dean's words. He nodded his head.

"Sure. You need the practice, and I hear Alicorns are pretty powerful with magic. I need to practice against the arcane myself." Dean took a few steps back before hoisting the wooden sword in his grip. He gave it a few flashy twirls before pointing it directly at the Princess. The guards had stopped their training in order to watch the duel, many whispering about who would win. While they knew Twilight wasn't known for her fighting, she was still an Alicorn: one of the most powerful beings on the planet. Dean on the other hand was a trained soldier, but seemed to lack magic. Many whispered bets to each other as they gathered around the circle.

Twilight for her part was looking at the sudden crowd anxiously, but said anxiety disappeared quickly when she realized what Dean was up to. Walking through the training grounds, she had felt dread and anticipation in the air. The invasion was like an anvil hanging over their heads, ready to fall at a moment's notice. The people of Maritime Bay needed a pick-me-up, and what better way to do it, than to have the two most powerful beings in the area spar in a friendly duel. Watching their Princess fight just might give them the motivation and commitment to keep going.

Snorting at the challenge, Twilight's horn glowed as she levitated a wooden sword from outside the ring. While she was never the most athletic, she had read many books on how to fight. Coupling her near photographic memory with the two years of constant running and fighting, she could hold her own well enough.

Fighting Dean was a different matter altogether. She was facing someone very strong head on. There would be no running, just pure skill. If she wanted to win, she would need to play dirty. And by dirty, that meant using her magic to the fullest extent.

"Alright, challenge accepted, Sergeant Forrester." Twilight stood a little straighter, and her nose slightly tilted into the air. Her posh look got an eye roll from Dean, but he still took up a fighting stance. A corporal officiating the ring stepped forward.

"First to two hits wins. No killing or maiming. Magic is allowed. Hits are counted with either a weapon, or offensive magical spells. Disabling the opponent counts as a hit. "

Dean and Twilight nodded, and the pony stepped out of the ring. There was a moment's hesitation before the officiator signaled a unicorn mare. She nodded, her horn lit, and a small shield began to erect around the small gravel arena. Dean raised an eyebrow, but figured since Twilight was using her magic, safety measures were needed.

He was proven right, for as the guard signaled the start, a beam of purple energy came whizzing towards his torso. Dean's eyes widened before he dove to the side, tucking into a role. His movements were a blur as he flipped up from his downed position and aimed a retaliatory strike to Twilight's side. However, he gave a grunt of surprise when he heard a pop and his sword met nothing but air.

Dean backflipped, barely missing yet another beam of energy. Twisting mid-air, he landed behind Twilight in a kneel, causing her to jump and whirl around. Her sword, wreathed in an ethereal glow, sliced towards his neck, but he quickly raised his own weapon to stop the blow. There was a sharp 'thwack', and Dean quickly wrapped his hand around the hilt of Twilight's sword. She gave a yelp in surprise as the weapon was yanked forcefully from her grasp, but her eyes narrowed when Dean twisted to bring an elbow against her side. Thinking quickly, Twilight rolled between Dean's legs before he could react and blasted him in the back with a minor concussion spell. The Human flew forward before comically face-planting into the ground.

Smirking, Twilight closed her eyes when the guards around her cheered for their Princess. She heard Dean give a huff and bothered to glance at him as he stood. With the angle he was standing at, his imposing height cast a shadow over her entire form. She could hardly see his face, but when he opened his mouth into a sinister smile, her ears drooped and her pupils became mere pinpricks. She gave a fearful chuckle as Dean cracked his neck and twirled the sword once more. She hadn't even noticed he had never let go during his fall.

"Nice job, but that was just a warm-up." Dean tossed her sword towards her, which she managed to catch in her magic. Sweat was dripping down her forehead, and her legs ached as she forced herself into a combat ready stance, her wings slightly spread in order to appear bigger. Giving a gulp, Twilight tried to sound challenging. She was lucky on the first hit, and it seemed now she was in for a world of hurt.

"Bring it, two-legs." She saw the officiary nod his head, but Dean didn't move. She snarked and shook her head. "Getting slow in your old age, ser--" Twilight gave a yelp of surprise when the Sergeant suddenly disappeared from view; nothing but a blur of black and gray before her. Something in her head caused alarms to blare, and she tried to jump forward. She felt the wooden sword barely clip her mane, and she grimaced as she hit the ground. Hard.

There was a whoosh, then another blur of motion, and Twilight felt something solid pressed against her neck. Her ears drooped when she realized it was Dean's sword.

"I'll have you know, Twiggles, that I am the ripe age of forty years old," Dean leaned down and whispered in her ear with a sultry tone, "which means I have lots of experience."

As he backed away, Twilight felt a blush explode across her face.

'Oh, it. Is. ON!'

Twilight quickly stood, her cheeks puffed in mock anger as she glared at the Sergeant. His easy-going smile, and mischievous eyes caused her heart to flutter. His heavily muscled body caused heat to rise in places best left unsaid. Stubble traced his jaw, and butterflies entered her stomach. Instead of swooning over the man, Twilight snorted and used her emotions as a bludgeon. He wanted to be like that? Fine, she could play too.

With a determined glint in her eye, Twilight squared her shoulders and focused her magic, channeling it into her horn. A soft glow enveloped her as she prepared for the next round of their spar. Dean watched her with a mixture of amusement and admiration, impressed by her determination to match his skill. The officiary nodded, and the final match began.

As Twilight's horn shimmered with magical energy, Dean readied himself for her next move. He knew she wouldn't hold back, and he welcomed the challenge. With a swift motion, he lunged forward, his wooden sword slicing through the air as he aimed for Twilight's side.

But Twilight was ready. With a flick of her horn, she conjured a barrier of magical energy, deflecting Dean's attack with ease. Surprised by her quick reaction, Dean stumbled backward, momentarily off balance.

Twilight seized the opportunity, swiftly closing the distance between them. With a graceful movement and incredible speed, she spun on her hooves, delivering a powerful kick to Dean's side. The force of the blow sent him staggering, his breath catching in his throat.

Regaining his footing, Dean grinned, impressed by Twilight's skill and determination. He knew she was a formidable opponent, and he relished the challenge of facing her in combat. He decided then to see just what she could do with what little training she had.

With renewed focus, Dean launched himself back into the fray, his wooden sword flashing as he parried Twilight's strikes. The two of them danced around the arena, their movements fluid and precise as they traded blows. Dean gradually increased the strength and speed behind his strikes as time went on, but Twilight showed no signs of stopping.

As the spar continued, the tension between them grew, each of them pushing themselves to their limits in an effort to emerge victorious. But despite their fierce competition, there was a sense of camaraderie forming between them, a mutual respect born from their shared determination and strength.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of intense combat, the two of them came to a standstill, Twilight's chests heaving with exertion as Dean stood up straight. They stood facing each other, sweat glistening on their brows, a shared sense of accomplishment in their eyes.

With a grin, Dean extended a fist towards Twilight. Twilight smiled back, bumping his hand against her hoof. There were cheers and a few catcalls, but the two paid the outside noise no attention, for they were staring into each other's eyes.

"Great spar, Twiggles," Dean finally said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're a formidable fighter."

Twilight chuckled, a warm glow of satisfaction filling her chest. "You're not so bad yourself, Sergeant Forrester," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere. Her voice lowered to a whisper, "Though you should see what I'm really good at." She gave a wink, and with a sway in her hips, she walked past Dean. A blush forced its way onto his cheeks, but he quickly shook it away. She was just being a tease, that was all.

As they turned to leave the training grounds, Dean looked down at Twilight with a frown. The spectators had moved back to their training, their moods greatly improved, but Dean's was not. Something was causing him confusion, and that is when a smooth, slimy voice wormed its way into his head.

"I will make you mine. You will love me, as I love you."

There was a flash, and Dean saw Twilight staring up at him, Marie's heart suspended in her magic. Her body lay a few feet away, her eyes dead to the world as blood seeped from her chest.

Another flash, and Dean tripped. He heard a yelp, and quickly placed his hands on the ground in order to keep from crushing whoever was underneath him. Looking down, he realized it was Twilight who he was hovering over top of. He saw her, covered in his wife's blood, and smiling her crooked smile at him.

Dean gave a sharp breath as he scrambled off of the Princess, the words ricocheting through his skull like a pinball. Why couldn't he stop seeing her like this? Why was his dream manifesting before his eyes? Was it even a dream??

"Dean? What happened, are you okay??" Dean shook his head and found Twilight was standing over top of him. They were on the pathway to the heart of town, and the sun seemed to pierce his eyes as he tried to find orientation. Something dribbled on his cheek, and he quickly brought a hand to his face. Once he got a good look at the substance before his eyes, he began to hyperventilate.

"It's okay Dean, stay calm. You just.... you're going to be okay!" Her words were not reassuring, and Dean quickly scrambled to his feet. Twilight gave a yelp as she was pushed off, but he hardly heard it. The only thing prevalent in his ears was a dull ringing, and he squeezed his eyes shut as the world seemed to swirl around him. A dark chuckle not his own resonated in his skull, and Dean grimaced as the world started to quiet down around him.

Looking down at Twilight, he scowled at the concerned stare she was giving him. Her eyes begged for an answer, but he had none to give. This was his burden to bear; there was nothing she could do.

"I'm fine, Twi. The stress from all this is getting to me, that's all." He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she didn't buy it, and instead frowned.

"You know you can tell me what's happening to you, right? I trust you, don't you trust me?" Her ears flopped down.

'Whoa boy, way to lay it on thick.' He thought to himself as he frowned.

"I do trust you Twilight, but I'm telling you, I'm fine." Dean's tone held a sense of finality. There was no more room for argument, and Twilight quickly realized this. She gave a sigh and shook her head. It was obvious he was dealing with a lot of trauma, last night being a prime example.

"I need to go find Iron mallet and see how the new alloy is coming along. I'll probably see you tonight Twi." He turned and began trudging down the road, his hand absently trying to rub the blood from his face.

As Dean walked away, Twilight sighed and stared at the man'a back. A cool breeze washed over mane, and she shivered in the winter air. The sky was still its typical gray, and she felt a sense of doubt in her stomach.

"Why won't you let me help you Dean?" She asked to herself quietly, before walking towards town hall. She could not miss the meeting with General Blight, but as she walked, her mind focused on only one thing.

Her love for Sergeant Dean Forrester.

*****

Midnight grunted as he shuffled into position. A pair of binoculars was dangling from his neck as he quietly shuffled through the foliage of the Everfree forests border. To his left was the town of Ponyville, and to his right where the camp he and his squadmates had set up. Midnight was currently wearing a ghillie suit, courtesy of Dean, and was trying to get into a position to view the path leading from Ponyville to Canterlot.

The thing is, Ponyville had undergone some... renovations over the last two years. Two large factories belching smoke into the air sat towards an old apple orchard. Strange carriages puttered along stone roads, and Elves moved about to and fro. A large building resembling a warehouse sat on the other side of town, and the words "Slave Market" were highlighted clear as day. Anger coursed through Midnight, but he held fast in his position as he slunk ever closer to his target. A small pathway into the forest gave him a direct line of sight into and beyond the town.

Currently, from what Midnight could observe, the military presence in Ponyville wasn't very large. On the way to the town, his group had noticed an influx in traffic taking route to Canterlot castle. Many seemed like nobles or high ranking officials traveling to the city, likely to be there for the ritual in a week and a half's time. Not many among the caravan seemed like soldiers, other than the personal guards of course.

If the attack near Vanhoover went well, then the defenses in the city would be lowered even more.

Finally in position, Midnight pulled a notepad and pencil from his vest and got set up. Each of his squadmates were set up in strategic positions in order to plot a route into the capital. For one hour, starting in two minutes, they would take notes and come up with ideas on how the mission should be executed. Midnight was beside ponyville looking towards Canterlot, Swift Spear was providing overwatch from a large tree near the forest border, Spitfire was along the path to Canterlot where she could get a good view of the gates, Steel and Cobalt were Opposite Midnight, and Stormfly was inside a cloud peering down.

Looking at the watch in his pocket, Midnight began to observe.

As Midnight meticulously recorded his observations, a rustling in the bushes nearby caught his attention. He tensed, ready to react to any potential threat, but relaxed when he saw the familiar figure emerge from the foliage.

It was Swift Spear, his fellow squad member assigned to provide overwatch. He approached silently, his movements graceful and deliberate, a testament to his training.

"Anything interesting?" Midnight whispered, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention.

Swift Spear nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon before settling on Midnight. "Not much activity on the path to Canterlot. It seems relatively quiet for now, but I'll keep watch."

Midnight nodded in acknowledgment, grateful for his companion's vigilance. They couldn't afford to let their guard down, not with the impending mission looming over them. Swift Spear quickly returned to the foliage and disappeared with nary a sound.

As they continued their surveillance, Midnight couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the back of his mind. The sight of Ponyville transformed into a hub of Elven activity was a stark reminder of the world they now lived in, a world where their very existence was threatened by forces beyond their control.

But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant: their determination to fight for freedom and justice, no matter the cost.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Midnight focused on his task, knowing that every piece of information gathered brought them one step closer to their goal.

The day stretched on, the sun casting its golden glow over the forest, as Midnight and Swift Spear remained vigilant, their eyes peeled for any sign of danger or opportunity.

"Blasted thorns! Give me one more reason to come back here with a squad of flamers you fuckin' forest!"

Midnight froze, his blood running cold. His heartbeat drummed in his ear as it fought to leap from his chest. He lay stock still as the voices of what sounded like a group of Elves grew louder to his left.

Thinking quickly, Midnight slowly reached up and turned off his radio, and not a moment too soon. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw three Elven soldiers bodying their way through the dense foliage. The lead Elf, a Lieutenant by the insignia on his shoulder pauldrons, cut through another bush with his sword.

"Astofar, if you don't shut up, I'll put you on tower duty." The Lieutenant snarled at his compatriot, who shrunk back. "It's bad enough the Captain wants us doing these patrols in the forest. It's even worse with you nagging at my ears like some pony whore!" The group broke free of the foliage, passing within a single meter of Midnight's position. The pony in question was holding his breath as he squinted and watched the Elves interact. If so much as twitched, they would hear or see him.

Thankfully this did not happen. Instead, the small group stopped outside the forest and stood for a moment, catching their breath.

"What's this for anyway? It's not like there are Resistance spies this close to New Azora!" The third Elf spoke up. Midnight briefly wondered what they meant by 'New Azora' but stored the information away for later. Right now, he needed to listen.

"There may just be, Corporal. The Emperor has ordered three battalions back from Griffinstone in order to reinforce the surrounding towns. He thinks an attack will come, but he doesn't know when or where. I heard the Captain talking to a General over the magi-comm, and apparently they suspect Vanhoover to be hit.

One of the Elves took a sip from his canteen as he looked at the sunset cresting behind Canterhorn mountain.

"Y'know, I can understand the Emperor's concern," the third Elf continued, wiping his brow. "But it's not like the Resistance has the manpower or the guts to launch a full-scale assault on anything. We've practically won the war."

"As soon as the Emperor gets his hand on the last Princess." The others nodded at the sudden comment from the corporal.

The Lieutenant chuckled darkly. "Even so, don't underestimate them, Corporal. They may be ragtag rebels, but they've been causing us enough trouble to warrant the Emperor's attention. Besides, with the support of the Demon, who knows what they're capable of."

Midnight's mind raced as he listened to their conversation. The mention of reinforcements being called back from Griffinstone and the fact they predicted the attack on Vanhoover sent a chill down his spine. It seemed like the Resistance's actions were having a bigger impact than they had anticipated.

As the Elves continued their discussion, Midnight made a mental note of everything he had heard. This information could be crucial for planning their next move. He remained hidden in the foliage, waiting for the Elves to move on before he would relay the intel to the rest of his squad.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the forest, the Elven patrol finally moved on, disappearing into the town. Midnight remained in his positions, knowing that their work was far from over. The information they had gathered would be crucial in the days to come, as the Resistance prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

After another thirty minutes of waiting, Midnight silently moved back to camp. They needed to return to Maritime Bay within the next three hours, for the information they had garnered would be crucial in the days to come.

A steely look came over Midnight. In four days, the Elven menace would finally come to an end.

In four Days, they would take back their world.