Chapter 42: No Rest for the Wicked
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'WHOOO, WHOOOOO!!'

The hiss of brakes dominated the air around the station, and the screech of metal on metal echoed through the snowy tundra. The train slowly came to a stop at the station, and a final hiss sounded as the vehicle came to a standstill. The labour camp that General Atlas had to audit lay nearly a hundred meters away, but it was hard to see due to the constant snowfall.

"I'll be, it's mighty damn cold out here!" A baritone voice sneered as the doors opened. A hefty Dark Elf wearing a flashy overcoat decorated with medals and badges stepped onto the platform. A monocle sat upon his right eye, and a top hat sat upon his head. A decorative shirt and tie lay beneath his coat, and gold cufflinks were upon his wrists. In one hand, he held a cane, in the other, a leash. At the end of the leash was a small gray Pegasus with bubbles as her cutie mark. Her ribs showed through her fur, and many of her feathers were missing. One of her crossed eyes was a milky white, while the other was full of sorrow. The mares mane and tail were in disarray, and more than a few teeth were missing from her mouth.

General Atlas looked around the platform and huffed in annoyance. There was no guard nearby, and magical lamps within the building were off. He lifted his wrist to check his watch and noted that the shift wouldn't end for another hour.

"Guards, on me." Within seconds, the General was swarmed on all sides by no less than ten elite guards. Each had a full helm and body armour. On their waists were shock batons, and in their grips were magical spears. They clattered onto the platform and took up defensive positions along its edges. The General shivered and his ears drooped. Whoever was in charge would get a rather large chewing out and a demotion.

A figure ghosted up beside the General, causing the old Elf to start. The figure wore a white camouflaged hood and robe. In his hand, a large bow sat strung and ready. The General chuckled halfheartedly as his gaze switched to the hooded Elf beside him.

"I don't like the look of this, General Atlas." The hooded Elf stated. His eyes were covered by his cowl, but the ethereal glow -near his neck signified the use of magic. Even through the cloak, the General could tell that the Elven Sorcerers magic was at work.

"I'm sure that the local Officer forgot about the inspection. I was told this place would be a decrepit hole in the ground, and it did not disappoint. Why the Emperor sent me here of all places, I'll never know." The General began to walk, and his guard matched his pace. The shield of elves moved through the snow towards the nearby camp, and the General got a nagging feeling in his gut. Sure, with the Military off continent, things had been getting pretty lax in Equestria. The ponies were subjugated, broken, and controlled, and the war was slowly drawing to a close. The only real worry among the Elves was the Resistance. For the last two years, the pesky group had been performing hit and run tactics all across the continent. Their elusiveness was a constant pain, and Elves like the General suffered for it. Only recently had the high table been getting any leads on the whereabouts of these rebellious ponies, but this came at a cost. Ever since the fabled Demon in Metal had sprung up out of nowhere, fear had begun to take hold of the many Dark Elves within Equestria. It was simply unheard of for a single being to liberate an entire town full of ponies, and it was another for that same being to capture a member of the royal family. To some, he wouldn't be seen as a major threat, but the Emperor had said otherwise. Atlas had scoffed upon hearing that the Demon was a threat, that he was truly capable of the feats that had been described from the town of Ravenford. He trusted the Emperor and his warnings, but this was just ludicrous.

Anyway, due to the recent disturbances from the Demon, and the fact that they needed the last Princess of Equestria, the Emperor had upped the ante on finding the Resistance headquarters. Entire sections of the Military were called back to Equestria in secret, and the special forces within the Elven ranks were deployed heavily across the country to find any information regarding their situation. They had been so close with Trignar, but once again, the Demon had interfered. Now, they were relying on those pesky changelings to root out the last of the free Equestrians, and to find the last Alicorn. The Emperor wasn't taking any chances, and was sending the vast majority of his Elves on the hunt.

Atlas snorted. They would have the Princess within the week. Operations were being planned, and pieces were being put in place. The ritual within two weeks would be the final testament to the strength of the Dark Elves. Ripples would be felt across existence itself, and terror would be felt within all that inhabited it. The days of Equis were soon to be over, it was only a matter of time. They inhabitants of this planet were soon to pose no threat against the Elves, and once their dark god was unleashed, no being in the multiverse would either.

"Do you recall what happened on the last blood moon, General Atlas?" The hooded figure beside him suddenly asked. It would seem that they had been sharing similar thoughts.

"I know some of the ancient stories, Enclaire, and I would never have believed them had the Emperor not shown me his plan. I recall there was a war, and the orb had been used for the first time. It was the age were the forerunners of this world came to their end. I recall not their names, but they were like us Dark Elves. God like creatures with the ability to cross entire continents in hours, weapons so powerful they could level a city. However, they were magicless, and the orb that we now posses' destroyed them. Because of our control over the Arcane, the Dark Elves were able to control the orb and conquer all who stood in their path. Did I miss anything?"

Atlas glanced at the hooded Elf called Enclaire. His kind were some of those special forces, and were master sorcerers. Every Elf had some degree of magical control, but these ones were masters. Enclaire slowly nodded his head.

"There is one more thing. Doth thou not know the name of these forerunners?" Atlas paused and so did the entire group. The snow was still falling, and a small chill swept through the air. The pony near Atlas's feet shivered and whimpered.

"I do not recall, no. I figured that their names were lost to time itself, and that our ancestors had considered them to be to weak to be of any significance. They suffered for their mistakes, and we did not make them like they did. Do you somehow have hidden knowledge?" Atlas continued walking, and the rest followed. The pony hesitated, and Atlas gave the leash a good tug to coerce her along.

"My family had possession of a book, the last of its kind. It talked about the creatures that once dwelt the Earth alongside everyone else. These forerunners were lost to time because all records of them were burned centuries ago. Their knowledge would have set us Dark Elves down the same path, so we got rid of their knowledge and made our own. The Equestrians actually utilized some of the ancient technologies used by the Forerunners, albeit to a minimal degree. That gives us one more reason to rid the planet of these ponies, no?"

Atlas chuckled and shook his head.

"Indeed it does. They used forbidden techniques, stole all the magics from the realm, and denied us the power necessary to bring ultimate peace. Once the ritual is complete, all the magic will be returned to us, as promised by the orb, and the other races, cultures, and technologies of this planet will be forgotten to time. Soon, it will only be us! I wonder still, what was the name of the forerunners? You have still not told me!"

Enclaire went to reply, but stopped suddenly and without warning. Atlas and the rest of the party stopped to out of confusion, the soft footfalls on the snow going quiet. Looking up, Atlas noticed that they were right outside the gates of the camp, which were wide open.

Why were they wide open?

"What is it?" Atlas glanced at his bodyguard, but was only met with a raised hand.

"I smell... blood."

Shivers washed down Atlas' spine, and he suddenly felt a sense of dread and unease. His eyes darted around through the wall of flesh and metal that was his guard. His hand gripped his cane like a vice, and his ears slowly lowered on their own accord. The wind howled around them, and Atlas suddenly jumped when a hand touched his shoulder. He looked over into the dark hood of Enclaire, but found no reassurance there.

"It is coming from the guard post, something is within these walls. This section of the world is known to host benevolent and insidious beings. It is possible one of these eldritch horrors have wreaked havoc inside. We must turn back and get on the train. From there, we will contact Stalliongrad. This place is now--"

"You won't be going anywhere."

The distorted and guttural voice caused everyone in the group to jump and whip around. Not once did they see who the voice belonged to, but it had sounded fairly close. One of the braver guards brandished his spear about and shouted into the snow.

"SHOW YOURSELF, FIEND!"

"I was hoping for more Elves, but I guess y'all will suffice. Your kin within the camp are dead. I killed them." This response left everyone present speechless. Everyone except Enclaire, who was slowly analyzing where the voice was coming from.

"Can you get a read on where he is?" Atlas whispered in desperation. The hair on his neck was standing on end, as if a predator was stalking him. He could feel eyes on his back, then his side.... then in front of him.

A shadow moved within the blizzard.

"There!" The same Elf pointed towards a point somewhere beside them and leveled his spear. He was about to pull the trigger and discharge a beam of magic when his head quite literally exploded. Gore and brain matter splashed across his fellow Elite Guard and many cried out in shock. Spears were leveled, and magic was released into the storm. Panicking and frightened, the Elite Guard of the Emperor began to blindly fire into the snowy tundra. After several volly's, Enclaire held up his hand, and the shooting stopped.

Nothing happened for a good minute, and all was silent. Atlas began to think they had hit the perpetrator when that same guttural voice echoed around them.

"You people are scared? Good, you should be."

The air was silent again, and against his better judgement, Atlas yelled into the icy wind.

"WHO ARE YOU!!" His voice was filled with desperation and fear, something that was reciprocated by his company. Once again, the only one not showing his emotions was Enclaire. His head was bowed slightly, and the glow on his chest grew brighter. It was a good ten seconds before an answer came, and when it did, every single Dark Elf present regretted even wondering what had killed their friend.

"A Demon."

A knife came spinning through the air faster than the eye could see and impaled itself in the chest of an Elite Guard near the head of the circle. He gurgled in pain as the blade tore through his lungs, causing him to slowly drown in his own blood. Elves began screaming and yelling as something utterly massive barreled towards them in a blur of movement. The knife was ripped from the dying Guards chest, sending blood spurting into the snow, and slit across two more Elves necks before the others realized what was going on.

Chaos ensued.

Many drew their swords or jabbed with their spears, but they weren't fast enough. The Demon cut through their ranks and easily dispatched the remaining eight Elite Guard. It wasn't until the fifth had himself split from groin to neck did Atlas say something.

"Enclaire, do something!" Atlas screeched, his feet carrying him back. He watched as the Demon took a sword from an Elf and quickly ran him through the neck. A twist and yank later, and the head of the dead Elf toppled sideways as he fell to the ground, the body part in question holding on by nothing but a thread.

"Enclaire!" Atlas took another step back, and his bodyguard still did not move. He could see a tinge of yellow surrounding his hand, and realized Enclaire was trying to time an attack on the Demon. Atlas realized this was a mistake when the final guard fell, and the metal behemoth slowly turned to face them. Atlas got a good look at the being that would haunt his dreams forever.

The faceless mask of the Demon was covered in blood, and so was his armour. A large knife was held in one hand, and a sword in the other. A large weapon of some kind sat on his back, and a holster holding another sat upon his side. Gadgets and gizmos pockmarked the Demons torso, and a black mirror of some kind sat upon his arm.

The Demon walked towards them.

"Enclaire!" Atlas backed away a few more steps, and it was then that he felt a tug. The pony below him was yanking against her leash, albeit quite feebly. Her eyes were screwed shut in effort, and Atlas found himself having a hard time reigning her in as his fear began to take hold. He looked up and saw the Demon moving even closer to his bodyguard.

"Enclaire, do something, please!" Atlas's voice was full of desperation and panic, but yet again, his bodyguard refused to move. What happened next was almost to fast for General Atlas to catch with his own eyes.

The Demon sprung forward, and Enclaire released his built up mana. A scorching fireball erupted from his outstretched hands and devoured everything in its path. The dirt beneath the snow was revealed, and the smell of ozone and sulfur filled the air. Atlas had enough time to blink before the Demon was on Enclaire. His sword flashed down towards the Elves neck, but with surprising agility, the Elf dodged to the side and drew his own curved blade. The two partook in a deadly melee that lasted exactly five seconds. Enclaire's sword was quickly launched from his grip, and the Demon snapped his arm out and grabbed the Elf around the throat. The Demon's own sword suddenly plunged within Enclaires chest, and the Elf let out a spluttering cough.

Atlas could only watch, part in shock and part in horror. The struggling pony in his grasp was forgotten as his faithful bodyguards dying corpse was tossed towards him without regard. He could only watch as Enclaire stood up, threw up blood onto Atlas's suit, and then collapsed onto the ground. The last thing the General saw as he looked up from his dead friend was the grip end of a knife as it made contact with his temple.

*****

The nervous voices of nearly two hundred or so Equestrians overlapped one another as they patiently waited within the largest of the empty barracks. Members of Dean's squad walked up and down the lines of ponies, providing food, water, and whatever warm gear could be found. More than a few of the concentration camp survivors had looted the dead Elves piled near the central area, and many carried stolen weapons as a means of comfort. The vast majority of the now free inmates were quite malnourished, and even more were utterly terrified. The prospect of freedom had been a pipedream to many, and most were uncertain of their newfound freedom. The resistance members were wearing headgear and heavy armour as protection, so many of the starved ponies had no idea who they were. The only recognizable member of their saviours was the Demon in Metal. nopony had thought that the famed warrior would come and rescue them. They were out in the middle of nowhere, and their hope had been extinguished. They knew as well as anypony else in captivity that the war was over. Some went as far as to feel that they needed to remain at the camp, in fear of punishment for their sins.

Thump, thump, thump, thump...

Fear took hold of the masses, and shouts of terror and cries of sorrow filled the barracks. Ponies skittered away from the door, and pushed to be as far away as possible. The sudden surge of bodies caught the squad members by surprise, and Midnight, Cobalt, and Swift Spear were caught in the mass of fur, flesh, and panic.

"They came back!" A mare cried out.

"They'll kill us all!" A stallion near the back shouted.

This caused the yelling and screaming to pick up in volume, and the footsteps went from a calm walk to a dead sprint towards the entrance. Footsteps meant bipeds, and the only bipeds were the Elves. The ones who murdered, raped, and abused their kind. The ones who had broken the will of nearly every race on the planet. They were all going to die...

The door burst open, and an utterly massive figure launched into the room. Both his arms were supporting a small, L-shaped metal stick and his whole body moved as if he was analyzing the room. Everypony went silent, the terror and realization that resistance was futile causing all to seize up. There were grunts and curses coming from within the mass of bodies, and the heads of the squad members popped out.

"Sergeant! Show them you aren't the enemy!" Midnight then cursed as he was pushed back under the masses. Dean took in the situation and realized why there was such a commotion. They were scared of him. They had associated his footsteps with those of an Elf. The fear and horror that those monsters had instilled in the Equestrians was something he had never seen before. He knew that something like this could happen to slaves in Human history, where they thought that resistance was futile, and oppression was their life. He was now witnessing this first hand.

Slowly, Dean tried to make himself seem less imposing, which was difficult with his immense size. He holstered his P23 at his side and slowly reached for his helmet. He heard whimpers come from the mass of bodies, and paused. Would they recognize he was different? Would they even begin to trust him?

With a final effort, the three squaddies weaseled their way out of the tightly packed horde and fell off to the side. They sat there and analyzed the situation, judging when they ought to intervene.

There was a hiss, and many flinched as his Helmet was removed. Maybe some knew he was the Demon in metal, but his overall stature and build was that of an Elf's. He needed to prove he wasn't with them. And as his helmet came off, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate only slightly. Good, he was making progress.

Dean crouched down ever so slowly so as not to startle the assembled equins. His knees touched the ground, and then his helmet, and free hand. He slowly leaned back and placed his rear on the hard surface of the floor, officially sitting before the two hundred some faces in front of him. Finally, he spoke.

"My name is Sergeant Forrester. I am a Human, not an Elf. Some of you know me as the Demon in metal. Some of you think that the power of the Elves is unmatched. Some of you think they are unstoppable. This morning and last night, I proved they are not. Every Dark Elf within the camp. All the ones who abused you, raped you, murdered your kind, and committed unspeakable sins? I killed them. I killed them all." Dean kept his voice slow and even, and he made a point to look into as many faces as possible while he did so. He could see looks of fear turn to understanding, and feelings of terror turn to relief. Someone near the front broke into sobs and collapsed to the floor, and a pony beside them spoke for the entire crowd.

"Are... are we truly free?" His voice held a youthful hope, one that was uncertain and terrified of the prospect of being wrong. Everypony behind him held their breath, waiting for the response of the monstrous Human sitting on the floor before them. The air was charged with tension and intensity, and many who had believed the they were free began to fear they had been wrong. It was an agonizing five seconds, and then the Demon spoke.

"Yes, you are now free."

And like that, the dam broke. Cheers and tears of joy chorused through the barracks as ponies hugged one another, cried with one another, or sayed their thanks to whoever was watching from above. Dean remained sitting through it all, a content look on his face as the ponies once more began to spread out and relax. Their joy seemed to radiate through the air, and Dean found himself outright smiling. This is what he worked for, this is why he fought. The war against evil never stopped, not even on a different world. He blinked.

Blood covered his face, and a manic grin seemed to rip across his features. Elves fell by the sword, and died by his hand. The ponies, humans, and others watched behind him in horror as he cut through what he thought was the enemy. He didn't take into account that they might've had families, or that some had secretly been against the wishes of their Emperor... he just killed, killed and killed some more. Blood flew, guts were strewn on the dirt. Elves, Orith, and the enemies of Humanity fell before him in a terrifying display of brutality. He was the judge, jury, and executioner, and it wasn't until someone tapped him on the back did he realize his mistake to late.

He turned on instinct and swung downwards. His eyes went from a savage grin to a look of downright horror. His mouth morphed into a silent scream as he tried to avert his strike, but he was to late, and the force of his blow was to strong. He could only watched as the hardened titanium and compound-X blade severed Mary's head from her body, then half of Jaxons face, before finally stopping in the side of Twilights skull. The blade cut into the bone like it was made of gel, and Twilights left eye exploded from the force of his blow. She didn't collapse, or scream in pain. Instead, she just sat there and smiled.

Dean let go of his blade and fell backwards, his features wrought with dread and disbelief of what he had done. The army of Elves were left forgotten, and all Dean could see was the blood and death he had caused to his loved ones.....

Dean blinked and grimaced, the scene only lasting for a milisecond. His hand came to his temple on instinct and a chill ran up his spine. After a moment, his eyes opened, but he refused to move. His gaze flicked left and right, and among the ponies, he saw ghostly figures of those who died. The ones he loved, the ones he had worked with. He couldn't place faces, but he knew each and every one. Had he looked behind him, he would have seen the ghostly figures of his wife and son.

"I'm losing it, I'm fucking losing it..." He whispered to himself. His voice cracked even at such a low volume, and he felt tears coming on. Seven years of nothing but bloodshed was catching up to him, this he knew. He had tried to ignore it, pushed it to the side while preaching that the mission came first. In his delusions, he had forgotten the most important factor in his life: his family.

"I need to see them again, to make sure they are alright. They are alright, they are alright, they are alright..." Dean stopped, suddenly becoming self aware. He felt eyes on him and quickly lifted his head to look for the perpetrator. No one was looking in his direction as far as he could tell, and no one was paying attention to his little episode. Dean blinked and found a very familiar ballcap/trench-coat wearing demigod staring at him from across the room. Their eyes met, and the Guardians gaze seemed to change from stoic analysis to sympathy. His hands were in his brown pockets, and his head slowly shook. Dean blinked again, and the Guardian was suddenly gone.

"Sergeant?"

Dean started and twisted around to find Cobalt standing next to him. When had he gotten there??

"Sir, we are ready to begin loading. We found only five more Dark Elves on the train, which were taken care of. That guard you kept from last night is causing quite a ruckus, and Spitfire threatened to neutralize him should you not do something. The mare you saved from the Elven General has not said anything since her rescue, and I fear something unrepairable has been broken within her. Beside that, everything is in order and ready to go. Is there anything else we should do before departure?"

Dean brought a hand to his grizzled chin and stood up, his joints creaking in protest. Cobalt was forced to look up as the Human stood to his full height. Dean intended to let the guard they had captured go to spread his otherwise growing reputation. Hopefully he would force the Emperor's hand, and he would be presented an opportunity to strike swiftly and brutally. In regards to loading the train.... an idea suddenly came to Dean's mind, and an evil grin wormed its way onto his face. The medic gulped as he noticed the Sergeants new look.

"Corporal Cobalt, do you know how to drive a tank?"

*****

8 hours later...

Screeeeeeeeeeeeech...!

The train lurched as the brakes kicked and ground the locomotive to a halt. The ride had lasted all but six hours, but the new addition to their luggage had taken Dean an extra two to figure out. He huffed in agitation and stuck his head out of the viewport for the conductor before looking towards the back of the train. Pegasi and two unicorns worked on lifting the massive tank off the train, deciding not to use the ramp as it would take to much time. Resistance fighters aided the free ponies of the camp towards ground based chariots. A secret pass would take them through whitetail woods, and they would end up in Maritime bay within the hour. Dean himself could run faster than the chariot, at eighty kilometers an hour at top speed, but it was only for emergencies and not long distance. To much overuse could injure him, or break his armour. At least... that's what he thought...

See Dean only had the specs of his old armour to go off of. The Mk.II was newer to him, and he had yet to find the true range of its capabilities. Once he got back to his room in the fort, the newest addition to his armour would be complete, and he would have something that he had only dreamed about years prior...

But that was for later.

The Human opened the door on the side of the train and quickly jumped from nearly ten feet in the air. His feet smashed into the green grass; oh how he had missed the green grass. He swore that when he got back to his family, they would never go on a vacation that involved snow or evil eldritch monsters.

Dean spotted a certain equine General and quickly jogged over. Blight saw him coming and a smile graced his lips. He waved away a Pegasus he had been giving orders to and promptly saluted as the Sergeant stopped in front of him. Dean returned the salute before shifting on his feet.

"I take it the mission was a success, Sergeant?" Blight held a twinkle in his eyes that went unnoticed by everyone except Dean. Truth be told, the General was ecstatic. Once more had they achieved a great victory against the Elves, and once more valuable pony lives were saved. He doubted another party would be held in the name of this victory. No, the party would wait till the war was won.

"Indeed, General. The Dark Elf known as General Atlas has been captured, and we were able to save near two hundred Equestrians, including a few Crystal Ponies as well." The General gasped, and Dean cocked his head to the side.

"D-Did you say Crystal Ponies??" The General's eyes grew wide, and his ears were standing at attention. His tail began to swish back and forth as a full on smile appeared. Dean chuckled.

"Indeed sir. I counted ten that we brought along with us. May I ask what their significance is, sir?" The loud rumble of the tanks engine suddenly blasted through the forest, startling a few birds farther away. There were shouts of approval down the line of guards, and a flow of ponies began making their way towards the chariots.

"Yes, yes..." The two began a brisk walk towards the path, leaving the train behind along with a few ponies to move it. There was a concealed piece of track nearly two kilometers away, and they would hide the train from prying eyes. The General had a plan in mind to utilize the newly acquired vehicle, but it would require a bit of time. "The Crystal Ponies are an interesting breed. Not four years ago did they, along with their empire, return from a thousand years of banishment. And before you say 'that's preposterous' or something along those lines, know that Dark Magicks were ahoof. One thing ponies often forget is that the Empire was a beacon of light, love, and hope. When it reappeared, and the Tyrant Sombra was defeated, Magical power and harmony was restored nearly everywhere on the planet. When the Elves invaded, they targeted the Crystal heart, the power to all the magicks of the land, along with our Princesses. When the heart was destroyed, and the Empire razed to the ground, the spirit of Equestria was broken. Permanently. We thought the Crystal ponies were gone; extinct and lost to the ashes of the Elven war machine. The fact that you managed to retrieve some of their kind means that not all hope is lost, and that we have a fighting chance still. At least, I hope we do..." The General trailed off as he and Dean came to a chariot. The General looked up into Dean's faceless mask and sighed. "The history behind the Crystal Empire is lewd and complicated, and I am not a good enough explainer. You will want to talk to Princess Twilight should you yearn to learn more. I presume you will want to ride with your squad, so this is where we depart. Report to me at dawn tomorrow, for there we will move to the next step in the plan. I am loathe to admit, but you are our only true light in these dark times, Sergeant. had it not been for you, my ponies likely would have given up and submitted."

The General moved to get into the chariot, but Dean removed his helmet. The audible hiss of the pressure depleting caused the stout pony to turn and raise an eyebrow.

"General, there is a problem."

The tone of voice the Sergeant used was not positive, not in the slightest. The General felt a pang in his heart, for this could only mean that something dreadful would reach his ears here and now. He made sure nopony was looking in their direction before nodding at the Sergeant to continue.

Dean shuffled and looked around. He didn't fully trust the word of the Zebra, but not once, or twice, but three times he had been informed that they had two weeks to act. It wasn't nearly enough time, and Dean feared the repercussions of his soon to be statement. If the General panicked, and word spread, then he could lose what little progress had been made. He was in the makings of a plan, but he needed a little more time, something he had precious little of...

"General, something has come up. I received information on my travels from a Zebra and an enemy that there is no more time. By the end of the week, we must act and act fast. It was my hope all along not to fight a drawn out war, and this new revelation has only solidified that it could not be done anyway. Something terrible is going to happen in one fortnight, and if we do not stop the Dark Elves, then the world of Equis as a whole is doomed. There will be no more Equestrians, no more Crystal ponies, no more anything... just the Dark Elves.

Doomed, Doomed, Doomed, Doomed....

 

The word seemed to echo in the Generals ear, and the world seemed to bend around him. His ears folded back and his breathing quickened. This wasn't supposed to happen.... what little hope he had in his heart shattered in an instant, and the word continued to echo within the confines of his mind.

Doomed, Doomed... Equis is... doomed...

A tear fell from his eye, and he made no move to get rid of it. He had worked so hard, so bucking hard to keep the spark of hope alive. And now, he was told it was all for nought. The Dark Elves had won, and there was nothing he could do...

"General."

The statement brought him back to the land of the living, and Blight blinked. He saw the concerned look that Sergeant Forrester was giving him and gulped. He was a General, a veteran of a genocidal war... and he was helpless. Dean began to talk, and the General could only listen.

"General, do not give in to your fears. I can see what you are going through right now, and trust me when I say this: There is still a light. I don't know what the Elves are going to do, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we take the fight to them before whatever it is they are planning comes to bear. I know you doubted my capabilities before, but I have a plan. In one week, I will infiltrate Canterlot... and kill the Emperor, thus ending the war."

The lunacy of the statement caused the General to blink, then to look down, then to blink again. A disbelieving scoff began to form on his lips, but he hesitated with the look within the Demon's eyes. The held determination, and a will to fight. He thought about all that had happened: Him saving Princess Twilight, liberating the Ponies of Ravenford, and now freeing those who were being exterminated. This Human had done more than the entire Resistance had accomplished in a year within a week and a bit. However, the General could not just accept the Humans proposition. He needed to think on it, and act in the morning when he was of clear mind. He just had the worst news in his lifetime dumped on him, almost nonchalantly with the Sergeants blunt and straightforward words, and he needed to process it. The General finally looked Dean in the eyes once more.

"Find me at dawn, and we will discuss in detail with the council. We are on a streak here, and I do not wish to sour that with tidings of the destruction of this world." The General chuckled half heartedly as he took a seat on the chariot. A few more officers came by and hopped up alongside him, some giving Dean a look of awe as he stood there.

The Sergeant nodded and smiled with what seemed to be understanding.

"I will see you tomorrow, General.

The chariot took off and Dean watched General Blight depart until he was swallowed by the forest. He frowned. He was remaining calm and collected, he needed to if things were going to go according to plan.

Two weeks. Then it's over...

Two weeks, and his deal was fulfilled. Two weeks, and he would have liberated this planet, and saved them from an unspeakable fate. He still knew not what the Emperor was going to do, nor what this ritual would entail, but one thing was for certain... Dean would stop him.

As he turned to leave a feeling came over him. It was one that he was used to, and one he had been trained to listen in on. This feeling had kept him alive, and made him second guess everything. His skin crawled, and his neck garnered goosebumps. Something was wrong, something was very wrong...

"DEAAAANNN!! PLEEASE!!!"

Dean collapsed to his knees and screwed his eyes shut. Pain exploded in his head as foreign voices and one familiar voice echoed around between his ears. He sat back on his rear and shook his head violently, as if trying to ward away some pesky deerfly.

"Put her under, before she breaks lose again! We need to keep her whole until the queen....
"Do you think she'll do what happened to the last Prince...
"Yes, and it'll be just as...

Dean slipped his helmet up and rocketed to his feet. His eyes were wide in fear and confusion as he whirled around on the spot.

Twilight…. T-that was Twilights voice!!

His head spun, he needed to get back to Maritime bay! Dean spied Midnight and the rest of the squad attaching to a chariot, and forced his legs to move. They felt like lead as he ran, and a feeling of dread sat itself in his stomach. She was in trouble, she was in trouble and he wasn't there to protect her. He had promised...

"Midnight! We need to go, now!!" Dean barked and began manually strapping the chariot to the Pegasus. The others backed away in confusion at their commanders sudden panic, and many grew worried.

"Dean, what's wrong? Did something happen? Is the city under attack?!" Spitfire hovered in front of him, her body tense and ready to spring into action. Dean shook his head violently. He had ignored it the first time, dismissing it as his deteriorating mental health. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He prayed he wasn't to late, and that his ignorance had not caused another dead friend. Panic set into his heart, and he whirled on the Pegasus.

"Get to Maritime bay and find Shining Armour! The Princess is in trouble!" His order caused gasps of shock as he turned back to his task, his hands working feverishly in an effort to strap the dark Pegasus to the chariot.

"B-but that's i-impos--" Spitfire began, but was swiftly cut off by Dean.

"Do not question me Captain! Something has happened, and Twilight is in danger!" After snapping at her a second time, Spitfire obliged and darted down the path to the forest. She couldn't go above the trees lest she wish to be discovered by radar, so she had to resort to speeding between would, brush and branches in a mad dash to fulfill her orders. Never had she seen the Sergeant so panicked, not even when they were attacked in the Frozen North. A feeling of dread took hold of her, and she used it to spur herself ever faster.

Dean, meanwhile finished strapping the Pegasus up and began hoisting the others onto the chariot. He did not jump in.

"Go!! I will meet you there! I'm faster on foot, and when you get to the barracks, I need you to restock your equipment. I fear we may be in for a fight soon." Dean beckoned them forward, and without a word, Midnight took off like a flash. Dean hesitated, only for a second. He would not fail, he couldn't. He had promised not to make connections in this new world, but he had failed. Twilight meant more to him than he had initially realized, and he would rather die than see her hurt. Something within him, a primal surge of adrenaline shot through his body, and Dean found himself rushing through the forest. He dove over logs, past trees and over streams. He rushed to escape his ignorant and stupid mistake.

He rushed to save his friend...

He rushed to save the Princess once more...

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