The sounds of crickets pierced the air as night began to fall. The sky was lit in a brilliant mosaic of reds and oranges, and a purple tinge slowly enveloped the land to the east. It was a beautiful sight, and many pegasi had brought clouds below the invisibility field to enjoy the view with their loved ones.
It was like this all over the small city. Ponies and various other creatures held their kin close. Families had dinner together, sang together, and snuggled up with their kids, wives, or husbands. It was a somber atmosphere, and a sense of duty was prevalent in everyone. In two days, the Resistance would march on Canterlot and free their people from the Dark Elven Empire.
First Sergeant Dean Forrester stood as still as a statue near the cliffs of the city. The sounds of waves crashing far below a soothing melody to the turmoil in his head. With every watery crash, a voice seemed to call to him. And every time the voice appeared, two more told him he was destined to fail. He saw blood, death, and destruction. He saw the eradication of the Resistance and all it stood for. He watched as a foreign flag flew high above the city, and Elven soldiers marched along its streets.
Then, a third voice would join in. Its words were like honey, succulent and sweet. It told him that there was a way to win, to get home, and achieve his ultimate mission of seeing his family once more. They were not dead, but every second he spent in war-torn candy-land was another second the Orith could break the Human lines and slaughter those he loved.
Dean grimaced.
Those he loved were not just on Earth. They were present on this world, or more specifically, she was. Her cheery smile when he saw her. Her large and beautiful eyes full of intelligence and care. It would be painful to leave, but it would be worse to stay.
Dean clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white beneath his gloves. The distant echoes from the city sounded alien in his sensitive ears, disconnected from the storm raging in his mind. His gaze fixed on the horizon, where the last traces of twilight finally dipped beneath the sea, leaving behind the shadow of night. He had stood here before, but tonight felt different...heavier. The weight of his decisions bore down on him like an iron shackle.
The voice in his head, the sweet one, whispered again. “You can still make it back. You don’t belong here, Dean. You know what you have to do to protect them. You cannot call yourself their saviour otherwise. You’re a soldier—Human. You have a duty to your own. Do what must be done.”
He was tired, oh so tired. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the temptation, but the tug of war within him only intensified. His heart felt split in two. One part yearned for the people he’d sworn to protect back home, for the faces of his family that haunted his dreams. The other part was tied to the friendships, the bonds he had formed here--most of all, to her.
His thoughts wandered to Twilight Sparkle. Her unwavering hope in the face of impossible odds, her fierce determination to save her people, had kept him going when everything else had seemed lost. She was more than a comrade now; she had become his anchor in this alien world. But now, on the eve of battle, Dean felt himself drifting.
If he called off the attack, left, and killed the Emperor... he would go home. Discord had said he would return him. He had promised that if Dean stopped the Dark Elves, he would see his family again. What choice did he have but to listen and accept? What choice did he have but to take in the vulnerable Alicorn and protect her? What choice did he have when he began to feel...love. She was Marie in a different body, keeping him sane in an insane world. But that was just it; she wasn't Marie, and this wasn't his world.
The sound of the waves crashing below became distant, almost forgotten as the storm inside Dean’s mind dulled and petered out. He had made up his mind—he would go after the Emperor alone. He could do it; he had the skills. His family’s faces flashed in his mind. He could almost hear his son’s laugh, see his wife’s smile. They were waiting for him, back home. That letter he’d received was a ruse, a trick. But something was wrong... hazy. Marie and Jaxon were alive, the Captain was giving him motivation.
But it was a lie.
'No, it is not.'
His fists clenched tighter, and he took a deep breath, pushing the thought away, trying to drown it in the soothing rhythm of the waves below. It was too much to bear. The idea that his family might truly be gone...he wasn’t ready to face it. Not now. He’d rather cling to the hope, to the idea that there was still something to fight for.
Needles pierced his skin, and his world became hazy. Voices spoke, and he caught a few words as they drifted through his subconscious.
"He has lost everything. This is not right."
"We need him, he is one of our most val... assets..."
"This could aff... long term... hysteria and psychosis..."
"Install the blocker... otherwise.... we've lost..."
A sensation in the side of his head caused his consciousness to flicker, and before he knew it the sounds of wind and laughter began to grow dim. He felt as though something was being forced from his mind--his very soul. Locked away and with the key tossed away.
As darkness took him, one final memory surfaced. He fell to his knees, a letter in his grip. The words of Captain Mason washed over him like a tide. He screamed. Sorrow. Pain. Loss... Nothing.
Blinking, Dean stumbled and shook his head. Echoes of another life once lived, of memories and cherished thoughts. They were warped, torn apart, or locked away. Surely, it was because of his time on this planet? It's magic, its very atmosphere must be causing him to see these visions. He saw Marie and Jaxon, he left for the war, he received the letter... fog, lots of fog. Then he was sitting beside a fellow RSTF Operative. They chatted, but Dean's name was called. He was given orders, and he had to fulfill them. Four years later, and he is here, standing on the edge of a cliff. Forward leads to death, backwards leads to pain. The choices--the truth. He would not listen. He had to finish this, no matter the cost. Dean's mind was made up. Then he heard it.
Panting. Panic and fear. He could hear it, and he knew who it belonged to. He could feel her presence, likely due to magic of some sort. Why was she running, panicking, and in fear?
Danger.
Whirling on the spot, Sergeant Dean turned in time to see his friend sprinting full-bore up the path towards him. Even in the Darkness, he could see the tears crawling down her cheeks. Her mane was disheveled, and her eyes held a terror he had only seen once before.
Jerking his pistol from its holster, Dean kept it facing down as he scanned his surroundings. Nothing moved, and his instincts were telling him that there was no present threat. Once the situation was analyzed, he made the split-second decision to re-holster his gun and powerwalk towards the tired Alicorn.
"D-Dean..." Twilight collapsed onto her side, but Dean was there to catch her. He gently laid her on the grass as her breaths came in ragged gasps. His eyes searched her body for any physical injuries, and upon finding none, they flicked up to analyze his surroundings. He tuned his senses to the max, but all he could hear was the city-folk, and the waves distantly crashing against the cliffs.
Dean felt a sudden pressure around his neck but fought the instinct to lash out. He instantly recognized that his friend had him wrapped in a tight hug, her head settled into the crook of his neck. The smell of Lavender wafted through his sinuses, along with the salt from shed tears. Whatever had Twilight in this state didn't matter at the moment. Right now, she needed comfort.
Sitting back against a decently large rock, the man began to rub her back in small gestures. He whispered soothing nothings as the little princess whimpered. After a few minutes, and after Twilight had seemed to calm down. He decided to ask the burning question.
"What's wrong, Twi." He whispered. His voice a whisper, but at the same time as loud as thunder.
Dean felt Twilight exhale, her posture going from ridged to relaxed. Someone looking from an outside perspective would think she had fallen asleep on his chest.
"I-I... I think I was attacked, Dean," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was checking on the Invisibility Field Generators. E-Everything went dark, and—and you were there! You..."
Dean's chest tightened. He could feel the trembling of her body as she pressed against him. Her words hit him like a hammer. She saw me? She was attacked?? He gave her a gentle rub, encouraging her to continue.
"I-It felt so real..." Twilight's cheeks grew warm against his neck. "You said things to me, things I... wanted to hear. You did things to me as well. I-I was in a state of pleasure and bliss..." She trailed off, her voice fragile.
Dean’s gut twisted even more. The realization of what she was doing not being missed by the man. Was this fear of hers a trick? He knew how she felt about him; it was obvious. He felt similar feelings, but he could not--would not--act on them. He had a family. The memories of Marie and Jaxon clawed at the edges of his mind, pulling him in two directions. His body tensed involuntarily, but Twilight seemed too lost in her own memories to notice.
Then, her voice became frantic.
"...and then, there were these horrible, horrible tentacles, a-and they were inside me, and my head, a-and other places...!" Her words tumbled out faster, desperate and filled with terror. "I-It said that y-you would betray me, a-and that I w-wasn't the original target!"
Dean's heart raced, his thoughts spiraling. Betrayal? The voice whispered in the back of his mind, twisting the truth, filling him with doubt. But all he could focus on was her fear, her pain. "Twilight, listen to me. I would never betray you. You know that."
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "But it felt so real, Dean! I don't know what to believe anymore!"
'It couldn't be that same monster that is tormenting me? I haven't seen hide nor hair of it in days.' Dean thought to himself.
'It is not the monster. She is using it as an allegory to sway you to her.' His subconscious told him. A hazy look entered his eyes, and the thought that the terrible beast from his nightmares was banished. It wasn't the monster. It wasn't possible.
He cupped her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Whatever that thing showed you, it's a lie. I'm here for you, and I always will be. We’ll face this together."
Twilight’s breathing slowed, her panic receding as his words grounded her. But even as he reassured her, a storm raged within him, an unsettling presence lurking just beneath the surface. The promise felt... wrong. He was saying things rashly, playing with her feelings unconsciously.
Her gaze fell to the ground, her voice a faint whisper. “But you won’t always be here, will you? You said you’d leave when the job is done.”
Dean's heart sank at her words. The weight of reality pressed down on him. She was right--once the battle was over, he would go home. But hearing it from her felt like a dagger to his chest.
“Twilight…” he started, but the words caught in his throat. How could he reassure her when he was wrestling with his own uncertainty?
She looked back up at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to lose you. Not after everything we’ve fought for together. What if you leave and..."
"Twilight, I have to leave. My family--my people--need me." Dean’s voice was firm, but the words felt heavy. "I... cannot return the feelings you seem to have for me. No matter how misconstrued they are, I--"
"But they aren't misconstrued! I... I want..." Twilight slowly slid out of Dean's grip and sat in front of him. Her bangs covered her eyes as she seemed to war with herself. Dean tried to think of something more to say--to comfort her without hurting her. It was here that he gained some clarity and realized that this conversation was a long time coming. He remembered the voices; how they told him that she would want him all to herself. He squirmed as unease passed through him like a ghost. He opened his mouth, closed it, then shuffled. A tense feeling welled inside him, and a brief bought of anger clouded his mind. He tried to push it back and was only partially successful.
'Why did this have to happen now?'
Before he could say or even think anything else, Twilight’s desperation and emotion overcame her. In a sudden, impulsive movement, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. She felt his lips, soft and warm like the rest of him. She felt how he suddenly tensed up in surprise. It was a fleeting kiss—soft and warm—and it sent shockwaves through her whole body. This is what she wanted. This is what she needed. The world went silent around her, and all she could feel was him. It only lasted for a second.
Dean's heart raced as Twilight’s lips brushed against his, soft and warm, a fleeting comfort in an otherwise chaotic world. His mind told him that this was what he wanted, and what was meant to happen. His conscious told him it was all unwelcome. A battle waged in his mind for a split second, but it seemed to take hours. The feeling of warmth and love versus what he figured was the cold, hard truth. The truth won. Pulling back and gently pushing against her chest, his expression was filled with pain and doubt. “Twilight, I can’t… I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widened and became watery, her ears flattened, and a tone confusion mingling with hurt followed. “But why?”
The desperation in her gaze, the trust she placed in him, made it feel as though his heart was being squeezed. He couldn’t face it. The voices in his mind intensified, warning him of her intentions, urging him to break free, complete the mission, and leave this world behind. It was settled. He needed to leave, and he would never see her again. He would win the war. The cost was his friendship with Twilight. Grimacing, he stood, causing the Princess to stumble back slightly, and forcing her to look up at him.
"I have a family, Twi. A wife and a son. I don’t feel the same way about you."
'Liar.'
As he began to walk away, his mind settled, a tempest of emotions started to roil within him. He fought to silence the voices, their screeching gnawing at his already frayed nerves. If he hadn’t been so consumed by his inner turmoil, he might have sensed the familiar yet foreign presence of the tentacled beast lurking within.
“Dean… they--they are dead!”
Three words. Three words, and he froze. They cut through him like an obsidian blade, leaving a cold, unwelcome feeling deep in his heart. He once more saw the letter, felt the agony, and then nothing. The cacophony in his head stilled, leaving a heavy silence that deepened the ache inside. The haunting truth he hadn't wanted to believe finally crashed over him; the voices had spoken not lies but painful realities. Then came the anger. It was sudden, instant, and cold. Maybe he had heard wrong. Surely, she wasn't stupid enough to pull this on him. He kept his back to her as Twilight drew nearer, her desperation palpable.
"In the cave, when you, Midnight, the Prince and I were with you... you told us about your home. You told us that--"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Deans voice was laced with venom as he turned towards her. It hurt him to do this, but he was angry. Angry at himself for not confronting this sooner, angry at Twilight for trying to use his emotions and motivations against him, and angry that he hadn't finished this damned war sooner.
Twilights ears wilted back in fear, and a pang stabbed into Deans heart. He had to push her away. She had betrayed his trust, and to succeed, he needed to push her away. He did not notice the malevolent, but quiet laughter in the back of his mind. He needed to push her away, win the war, and make sure his family is alright. They must be alright.
"Dean... please..." She whimpered as he stalked closer, jutting a finger at her with force.
"No," he hissed, "You just want me to stay here with you! I confide with you the reason why I fight, the reason why I still push on, and you try to flip my purpose on its head!!" Anger seemed to ooze from the Sergeant. He did not hear, or really even see, Twilight cowering back in terror. His form grew bigger, more menacing. "I should have known that it would come to this. I am here to save your people, and then save mine! That is the deal! I cannot afford to make relationships. I cannot afford to be distracted. My families’ lives are at risk!! How could you use this lie to try and keep me here! How could you try and be so selfish!! Once I kill the Emperor and end this war, I AM GOING HOME!!!"
Dean's breathing was heavy as he finished his tirade. Blinking aggressively, a woozy feeling washed over him, and he stumbled slightly. It was here that he finally noticed the sound of crying. Glancing down, his eyes widened as he beheld the Princess, sobbing at his feet and curled away from him defensively. The presence in his head was there, but it merely watched. The voices were silent, and Dean felt his mouth flapping as he grasped at what to say.
'I've gone too far...'
"Twilight... I'm-"
Twilight jumped to her hooves and bolted past him, tears pouring from her eyes the whole way. Dean turned and watched as she spread her wings and took to the sky. Within a few seconds, she was a speck of purple on the other side of the city.
Slowly, Dean turned. His eyelids grew heavy, and his legs felt fatigued. For a brief moment, it looked as though the man were about to collapse. Shaking his head, Dean felt anger once again bubbling in himself. He figured he was justified in what he had done. She needed to be pushed away. But seeing her like that, terrified of him, broke his heart.
'Some friend I am.'
As though a switch was flipped, Dean's eyes narrowed, and he began to march to the barracks. He knew what needed to be done, and he alone had the power to do it. Like he was on autopilot, the super-soldier made his way into the barracks before sharply turning towards General Blight's office. He ignored Midnight and Spitfire saying hello to him as he passed. He ignored the stares from the various soldiers, or even Spike as he stood beside Lucy. Coming to the door, he did not knock, and simply shoved it open.
The General jumped with a terrified whinny.
"Sergeant! What they hay has gotten into you!" Blights anger was quickly extinguished, however, when he saw Dean's face. His ears wilted, and he pressed back into his chair. "I-Is something the matter, Sergeant Forrester?" He said with a stutter.
"I am calling off the attack, General." Dean stated with a growl. The voices were silent, and he knew what needed to be done.
"W-What?!" Blight sputtered, leaning forward, and placing both his forehooves on his desk. "But Sergeant! The soldiers are ready, the plans are set... what about the Gryphons!? Surely--"
"No. I have let this war drag on long enough. No more of your people will be hurt. No more will suffer under the Dark Elves. I have the technology and the training to enter Canterlot undetected. I will then assassinate the Emperor and end the war once and for all. Then I will go home." The finality in Dean's words left the General speechless. The man was so sure of himself, so confident in his success, that the General nearly agreed with him. But then he realized something wasn't adding up. He would go alone and end the war... and leave the Princess behind? He would go without backup, something that no one, no matter how skilled, would do? It doesn't make sense, and something felt off.
The air grew cold, and his blood seemed to freeze. A dark presence emerged from behind Dean, and the General was not fast enough to react as it lunged forward and straight at him. He couldn't cry out, or even move, as the... thing entered through his mouth. He felt something slimy in his throat. It pressed into his stomach, then upwards into his head. He felt his consciousness waning and fought to stay in control. He was an Earth pony, and so his mental magic was not very strong. He could offer no resistance, for his old mind was well past its prime. His vision went blurry, and Blight felt words spilling from his mouth, though they were not his.
"Your plan... against my better judgement, has the go ahead, Sergeant. You will take Midnight Flow with you as transportation." The General fought with all his might to break free from his possession. A claustrophobic sensation seeped in, and everything grew colder still. Whatever was controlling him laughed at his attempts, but still he persisted.
Dean looked surprised by the General's sudden switch in demeanor but didn't question it. He could see the bags under his eyes, and the seemingly deadened expression on his face. It was the look of someone who wanted the war to end, for the bloodshed to stop. They were so close, and everything hinged on Dean succeeding.
'You will succeed.'
Saluting, then turning to leave, Dean paused.
"It was an honour serving with you, General Blight." He did not wait for a response as he pulled the door open, and then took his leave.
As the door closed, General Blight's deadened eyes took on a hard look.
"The honour is all miiinneeee, Huuuman."
Striking the buzzer on his desk, a private walked into the room from a side entrance. Blight turned to face the private, his lips curling downwards into a frown.
"Seargeant Dean has called off the attack. He is going to end the war. Tell the troops the new plan. In three days, this war is over."
The private nodded and galloped out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. The second it did, everything went silent. Blight sat there, unmoving, and seemingly staring into space. The shadows in the room seemed to lengthen, and the Generals complexion seemed to dull.
SNAP!!
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Blights head twisted much too far too the right, and his whole body pitched forward as he slammed against his desk. His eyes open, dull, and lifeless. His broken neck began to give as Blights body slid from the chair before hitting the floor with a thump, where it lay in an undignified heap. Nothing happened, and the room once more went silent.
Then he blinked.
Where blue irises once lay, pitch black orbs now stared out. His neck slowly twisted to its rightful position, and with a mighty crack, reattached to the spine. Without so much as a huff, Blight stood and quietly climbed back into his chair. His chest did not move, for his lungs no longer worked.
"Bothersome pony. Your body is now mine, and your soul has joined the many." Blights mouth did not move. He sat, and he waited. It was not yet time. Soon, it would all be over, and It would feast.
"Soooooon..."
*****
Midnight stood, a shadow in the night as he watched Sergeant Dean exit the Generals office. The man was ridged in the way he walked towards his room, and the lithe Pegasus kept to the shadows as he followed him. Guards were forced to move out of the way, and others were ignored as they tried to wave hello. Ever since Midnight had gotten back, something had seemed off about the Sergeant. He was tired, irritable, and moved differently. Even his tone had changed, for he was no longer the 'no nonsense' type. He was unreasonably quiet instead. Midnight had his theories, and it was his duty as the Sergeants friend to find out the truth.
The Sergeant turned into the hallway leading to his room and temporarily vanished from view. Silent as a ghost, the Pegasus followed. Turning the same corner, he caught the Sergeant moving to open the door. No one else was present in their little hallway, and Midnight deduced now was the time to begin.
"Dean." Midnight called. A satisfied smirk appeared on his lips when the man jumped and whirled around. His look of surprise morphed into a scowl as he crossed his massive arms.
"Midnight, you know better than to sneak up on me," the man growled before turning and opening his door, "whatever, come in, I need to talk to you."
Midnights ears pinned themselves to the sides of his head, but he followed, nonetheless.
Midnight’s hooves made no sound as he entered Dean’s room, his sharp eyes catching every subtle detail--the scattered papers, haphazardly piled equipment, the untouched food on the table, the deep lines of weariness etched on Dean’s face, and... pain. Pain was in his eyes, and in his very posture.
Dean closed the door behind them with a click, already moving toward the small desk in the corner. His rifle sat, unassembled. "We need to talk, Midnight. I've spoken to the General, and I need you to fly me to Can--"
"Before we get to that," Midnight interrupted, his voice low but firm, "what's going on with you?"
Dean stopped mid-step, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned to face the Pegasus, his expression hardening. "What do you mean?" he asked, crossing his arms defensively.
Midnight took a step forward, his wings half-spread as if ready to take off at any moment. "You know what I mean, Dean. Ever since I got back from my mission, you’ve been... different. You’re distant. Quiet. It’s like you’re a shadow of yourself. I can see it in your eyes."
A surprised expression came over Dean, but his eyes quickly narrowed, a flicker of fatigue made itself known, but this was quickly replaced with annoyance. "Midnight, I don’t have time for this." The man growled out.
"You don’t have time?" Midnight snorted, shaking his head. "Look at yourself, Dean. You barely eat, you barely sleep, you've been distant, and you’ve been marching around like a time bomb waiting to go off. If you think I haven’t noticed, you’re wrong."
Dean rubbed a hand over his face, the frustration melting into a brief moment of vulnerability. "It’s not your problem, Midnight."
"Like Tartarus it isn’t." Midnight’s voice softened ever so slightly, but his gaze stayed locked on Dean’s. "We’re on the same team, and I consider you my friend. Something is eating away at you, and it worries me. I saw you on the train coming back from that camp at Stalliongrad. You can talk to me."
"I said it’s not your problem," Dean repeated, his voice low, though less certain than before. He glanced toward the unassembled rifle on his desk, a slight tremor passing through him. His next words felt like they were forced through gritted teeth. "I can handle it."
'Don't trust him. He’s here because of her. Because of Twilight.'
The voice crawled through his mind, dark and oily. Dean stiffened, trying to shut it out, but its presence lingered, whispering venomous thoughts that fed his suspicion. Midnight was pushing too hard--asking too many questions. Was this real concern? Or was he sent to pry and trick him?
Dean’s gaze flickered to Midnight’s watchful eyes, scanning him with that mix of concern and stubbornness that made the Pegasus a valuable ally. But can I still call him that?
'He's just like Twilight. He’ll betray you. They all will. Don’t let him in.'
Dean’s breath hitched, his face hardening as his thoughts warred inside his mind. Midnight took another cautious step forward, unaware of the storm brewing behind Dean’s eyes.
"Dean, I know something’s wrong," Midnight pressed, his voice steady. "Whatever happened at Stalliongrad... whatever you saw, you don’t have to carry that weight alone. What exactly are you trying to handle?"
'Lie to him. Tell him nothing!'
Dean could feel the shadow pressing down, coiling tighter around his thoughts. His lips parted to speak, but the words felt stuck in his throat. The room seemed smaller now, suffocating. Midnight’s concern only made the air feel heavier, his loyalty--his friendship--twisting into something that felt like a threat. He felt the room chill, and a shadow seemed to move towards his friend.
"I-I..." Shaking his head, Dean's eyes flicked to his suit of armour. If he could get it on, he would be safe. Its properties negated magic, right? He just needed to get it on...
"Whoa!" Midnight jumped back as the man stumbled past him and towards his suit. He was about to call Dean's name but watched in concern as he stumbled into the armour and began to hastily put it on. A strange hiss reverberated through the room, and the lithe pegasus watched as the metals seemed to fold across Dean's body like it was a second skin. Once this process was done, he watched as Dean slid his helmet on, a hiss and a thunk signaling that it was sealed. The second it did, the cold feeling that Midnight had dismissed as a breeze ceased to exist.
For a few seconds, all Midnight could hear was Dean's steady breathing. It sounded metallic--alien. His stance was menacing as Dean's faceplate seemed to glare down at Midnight, and then through him. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, then uncurled.
"Dean?" Midnight watched as the man took a shaky breath before visibly slouching where he stood.
"T-The Guardian said it couldn't get into my mind. He said I could fight back against It. It's not here... I-I got it out, I think."
Midnight took a step backwards as the man rambled in his distorted voice.
"I could feel it trying to come back. It wants to know the plan. It wants to know if the Resistance is vulnerable."
Suddenly, he lurches forward and past Midnight, causing him to jump away once more.
"I need to get there and end this. Before it takes control. My mind... my mind can't take any more!" The desperation in his voice was palpable as he began to reassemble his rifle. Thinking quickly, Midnight tried the only thing he knew might work for the Sergeant.
"First Sergeant Forrester, stand down!"
Whirling on the spot, Dean glares at Midnight.
"There is no time, Lieutenant!" He growls. "If I don't kill the Emperor and finish this war now, then the Orith might get to my family! That damn monster is attacking my mind! Twilight has turned against me to pursue her own interests, and I NO LONGER KNOW WHAT THE TRUTH IS!!!"
Dean's roar caused a wave of pressure to expand in the room. A red hue began to coalesce, and Midnight stepped back in fear. However, his patience was at an end, and so anger rose within him.
"Sergeant, what the FUCK are you talking about!!" The little ponies own shout caused Dean to jolt back, though not by much. "The attack begins in two days, and you suddenly bring this up NOW?!"
"I.. I-" Dean looks around the room. A twisting feeling is entering his gut, and he tries to shake it off. He should tell Midnight. Surely, he will understand?"
'He is like Twilight."
'Infiltrator.'
'Traitor.'
'Friend?'
"Midnight, please, you must understand! So many will die in the attack! I-I am doing you all a favour, helping to end this war!" Dean raised his hands in a passive manner, his anxiety returning in full as his mind tried to take a quick inventory. He needed all his things if he was going to succeed on this mission.
"No, I don't understand. The chance of failure is too great for just one person. The Emperor and his entire army are at that castle. It's suicide! Not to mention everyone is finally prepared... you would just abandon them?" Dean flinched, but shook his head.
"Midnight please! I-I need to get home. You know I can't stay here and waist time! My family--"
"--is dead, Sergeant." Midnight finished with a growl, sick of the subject.
Dean stumbled back as if struck. Under his mask, his face twisted to show various emotions. Anger, confusion, pain, betrayal… and back to anger.
'He isn't your friend! He is with her!'
'He is lying to you! You need to get home and make sure they are okay!'
'They will die if you don't get home and save them!'
"You are with her You just want me to stay here with all of you! I-Is this some sick joke? Have I been dreaming this whole time!? Do you take me for a fool!?" Midnight scrambled back as Dean stumbled back to his desk. "I-Is this even real, this desk?? What about this damn fort? O-Or the magic you ponies hold so high?? W-When does it stop! When does this fucked up fantasy turn back to reality!!"
Grabbing a walkie talkie sitting on the desk, the Human crushes it in his grip and then throws it against the wall. His rage causes sparks to fly and bits of metal to clatter to the ground. Midnight yelps, his anger suddenly turning to alarm. He was no longer listening to Sergeant Dean, but instead the ramblings of a madman.
'I-I need to tread carefully.' He thought, recalling the incident in the bedroom.
"I-I had a damn monster in my head! I am in a world of talking equines, fighting a war against Elves! I am supposed to free a demigod, a-and s-save an entire fucking world! I can- I can feel magic, one of those ponies apparently loves me, AND MY FAMILY IS GOING TO DIE IF I DON'T END THIS!!"
His words started quietly, then grew and grew until he slammed his fist against the desk. Midnight, eyes wide, steps forward. He tries to seem as disarming as possible, even attempting to make his eyes watery. It wasn't difficult, considering the amount of emotion in the air. The Sergeant stands there, breathing heavily. Something is very, very wrong, and Midnight curses himself for not noticing sooner. He takes the opportunity to approach.
Stepping closer, he raises a hoof. “Dean, this isn’t you," he speaks softly. "Whatever you’re thinking, whatever’s in your head...it’s not real. You need to--” as if sensing his approach, the man whirls around and brandishes his pistol. Midnight did not see it move to his hand, but he froze nonetheless.
“Stay back!” Dean’s shout cuts through Midnight’s words, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger. “I’m not falling for this. I’m not one of your--there pawns, Midnight!” the gun shakes in his grip. "My family is alive! I-I need to see them! I need to go home and finish the fight!"
'So, this is what it’s about?' Midnight thinks. Dean must be experiencing some form of psychosis from the trauma of losing his loved ones. No one sent a letter to 'motive' their troops. Details were missing, and crucial information was left out of the story.
"I'm gonna regret this." Midnight whispers to himself before giving Dean a level stare.
"Dean, I need you to tell me what you remember about getting that letter."
"W-What letter?"
"You told Twilight, Trignar and I that your Captain gave you a letter stating your family was dead. What do you remember?"
"I-I..."
"Dean, commanders don't give out such letters as encouragement. It is heartbreaking to lose one’s family. What happened after you read the letter?"
"I-I went back to my station. I-In Houston. I was set to move out with the first armoured division to push the Orith back." Dean slowly lowered his gun. His voice was quiet as he spoke. "W-What are you getting at here?"
With the threat of the gun temporarily out of the way, Midnight took another step closer. "And where were you when you got the letter?"
Dean scrunched his eyebrows under his helmet. Where was he that day? Surely, he would remember. He was in a command tent outside a city... Boston? Yeah, Boston."
"I was outside the city of Boston. W-What are you getting at?" The confusion of the moment halted Deans thoughts and turmoil's the familiarity of the Orith-Human war giving him a sense of... almost peace. It was where he belonged: on Earth.
"Do you remember the journey from Boston to Houston?"
"Of course," he snapped in annoyance, "I took a...a... no that's not right. I was in a truck... and then... wait?" Dean put a hand against his head, trying in vain to remember. "I was there, I saw it! I saw... there was... W-what..." he faced Midnight, "W-what are you doing to me, is this some sort of--of trick??"
Midnight shook his head.
"Dean... you have been hiding from the truth."
The man shook his head.
"No... no, no, no, no... don't." His voice was meek.
"Your wife and your son..."
"P-Please don't say it...please!" He begged.
"They are dead, Dean."
*****
Twilight had told him, and he didn't listen. He nearly killed Trignar when the Elf had mocked him, and he did not listen. And here he was, standing before the last person he could trust. Two instances weren’t enough, as they all had reasons to get on his nerves or serve their own goals. Midnight was different. He respected Dean and saw him as a friend. He knew, as a fellow soldier, Deans mission back on Earth. There wasn't any way to betray him.
'He did betray you."
'No, he didn't! There isn't a reason!'
'It's the monster, it has a hold on him! Your family isn't dead, they can't be!'
He was in a world of magic, talking ponies, and evil Elves. Him, a Human soldier. It was all Fantasy.
'I want to go home.'
'I want Marie and Jaxon.'
'Marie and Jaxon might be dead.'
'They can't be. The letter was a lie.'
Dean tried to remember. He pushed himself to find the memories, the times he saw his family while on leave. He concentrated so hard that a throbbing pain began on the front-top of his head. He tried to visualize his boy running out to hug him, and his wife to kiss him. Instead, all he saw was war. He saw blood, death, fire, and destruction. He saw a living hell as aliens tore apart his fellow man, he saw sadness as people wept for their deceased loved ones. He did not weep, because his weren't dead. They couldn't be.
'The logic isn't adding up.'
'I-I need to be sure! I-I know they are alive! They have to be alive!'
Dean's hands began to tremble, then shake. He felt clammy, and sweat dripped down his back. He felt a pressure in the back of his head, one that he hadn't felt in a long time. Panic. He was beginning to panic, and this time, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't cry for his loss, for he wasn't sure those he loved had died. He couldn't scream in rage, for the anger was within himself. He needed to end the war. These ponies...
'They are betraying you. They are the ones who had planned to call of the attack all along! Why would Blight agree so readily!'
'It is all fake. The Elves are monsters, and these ponies... they are just as bad. Th-they had magic, how could they fall so easily... unless it was all a set up!'
'I-It isn't making sense! NOTHING MAKES SENSE!!'
"Dean, are...are you alright?" Midnight asks, concern bleeding from his very words.
"S-stop, stop!" Dean suddenly fell to his knees. The weight of everything was crashing down on him, and he could not lift it off. He could not believe it. He refused to believe it. They were lying to him, all of them! His heart raced; his breathing quickened. He needed to leave, and he needed to leave now.
'I'm losing it, I-I'm l-losing it!'
He heard someone’s words. He did not care. He needed to leave. He heard their plea, and he heard the concern. It was all fake. The words were poison, lies. They wanted to stop him. They wanted to betray him! The voices start to scream.
'WHY ARE THEY IN MY HEAD!'
Dean clutches his head, his fingers digging into his helmet as if trying to squeeze the voice out. “Stop. Stop! I can’t... I can’t think!”
The room seems to warp around him, Midnight’s panic filled voice becoming distant, distorted. Voices scream at him from every angle, some like banshees, and some like his wife and friends. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the air thick with pressure. Dean stumbles toward the door, his breaths ragged. He sees her. Her ragged clothes and decaying skin. His dead wife stares at him. His vision begins to swirl.
“I need to get out of here,” he mutters shakily, more to himself than anything.
He stands and quickly moves to his bench. He clamps his SCAR to his back, grabs a few grenades, and turns to face the door. Dean's eye twitches, and a crazed expression morphs onto his face, and his hands curl into fists. His gloves crunch in protest of the pressure he is applying.
His breathing steadies, but his eyes remain wild under his helmet. “I need to get to Canterlot,” he whispers. “I need to end this before it’s too late... I need to know… I-I can save them.”
Midnight spreads his wings and steps in front of the man. Fear radiates from him, but he stands firm. “Dean, stop. You’re not thinking straight. Please, let’s talk this out.”
Dean slowly tilts his head down and stares at him, eyes narrowed, his voice low and guttural. “Get out of my way, Midnight. If I don’t end this now, I'll lose them all.”
"Dean, please! I am your friend! Twilight is your friend! Let me go get Trignar as well. He probably knows some of the magic that is affecting--"
"GET OUT OF THE WAY, DAMN IT!! BEFORE YOU GET HURT!!" Dean roars and takes a forceful step forward. His hand travels to his hip--to his gun, but he does not touch it. His tense stance causes Midnight to shy away slightly, but the pegasus stays resolute and doesn't back down.
"NO! DEAN YOU MUST SEE THE TRUTH!!" Their yells could wake the dead, but neither cared. A contest of wills was playing out, and the first to hesitate would lose. "THEY ARE GONE! YOU CANNOT DO THIS ON YOUR OWN!!"
Growling, Dean's hand twitches near his sidearm, but he does not draw it. Instead, he balls it into a fist at his side.
"You've let her poison your mind, Midnight! She has lied, and she has you around her thumb, hoof... whatever!" Dean's voice lowered but was no less intimidating.
"What are you talking about? Who's hoof?! What would Twilight think about all this!?"
There was a moment of silence before an old instinct entered through Midnights head. It was the feeling that a predator was watching him, and that he needed to run. His hair stood on end, and his pupils shrunk. He took a shaky step backwards, and this seemed to trigger the man before him.
"What would Twilight think? WHAT WOULD TWILIGHT THINK?!" Dean roared in fury. A flash of red entered his eyes, but he didn't notice. It almost bled through his faceplate, giving off an ethereal glow which caused Midnight to stagger further away. "She would think she can manipulate me, like that damn monster! I don't know how she found out about it, but she used it as an excuse to try and KEEP ME FOR HERSELF!! I JUST WANT HER TO BE SAFE, BUT SHE IS TAKING THIS TO FAR!!"
"What are--"
"She wants me here, by her side. She loves me, but I cannot love her! She would see my family dead so that she can keep me for her own SELFISH REASONS!!"
"Dean, you aren't--"
"Enough of this," the man takes a heavy breath before a steely resolve settles over him. All the anger, all the questions and turmoil. Every last emotion is poured into his words with enough venom to kill an elephant.
"Either come with me to Canterlot… or stay here and cower with the others."
*****
Midnight stood, frozen. It was an ultimatum; one he could not accept. Everything was happening so fast. One moment, he is following Dean into his room, the next, he is watching his friend go insane. He had never seen this before, not with the traumatized soldiers at the hospital, not anywhere. It didn't make any sense, especially since the man had been hiding this for Celestia knew how long.
He should have kept a closer eye when he caught Dean on the train trying to end himself. He should have stuck by his side when he was planning, training, and socializing. He should have been there, and instead, he was off with his marefriend, or taking recon missions. He felt a weight of depression settle in his stomach realizing he had failed his friend. He could have helped... but he didn't.
Even still, he could not accept that offer. To go to Canterlot was suicide, and he knew he could not stop the Human. A sense of hopelessness crashed down on him once he realized the implications of Deans rabid personality switch. Their most valuable asset was going on a one man crusade and would likely die as an outcome. In his psychosis, he was going to abandon all he had worked for over the last month. He was going to leave behind Twilight, whom he knew he cared for and cherished. Finally, he would leave him behind if he did not accept the proposal.
To go with was also likely suicide, even if the chances were slightly better. To stay here would break his trust in his friend but give him enough time to warn the others and devise a plan. At the speed that Dean ran, assuming he didn't stop, it would take him a full two days to get to Canterlot. Midnight didn't know what Dean meant by 'A monster is in my head’ and choked it up to his ramblings and confusion. Surely nothing could influence the hard-flank soldier he had come to know?
Looking up at Dean, he made his decision. The safety of the Resistance... and the Princess was paramount. Perhaps Dean would come to his senses halfway there and return on time for the attack. While he was away, Midnight would talk to the others and devise some plans in the case that he doesn't return, or if the Elves attack in his absence. Nodding to himself, a hard look came over his face, even as doubt welled in his stomach.
"I cannot follow this path you are on, my friend."
Dean snorted and shook his head in disappointment. Before he could walk past the pegasus, he continued to speak.
"You will find the truth, and we will be waiting for you here. I believe you are making the wrong decision.” His voice then softened, along with his demeanor, “I am your friend, and I would give my life for you. Remember that."
For ten brutal seconds, the man stared down at the pony. His mind was blank as he tried to think of something to say and failed. Conflict waged in his mind, and for the first time that day, Dean's resolve faltered. The voices were oddly silent, and that left him room to think. He thought of Twilight, and how he had loved her presence and person. The way they had cuddled up to one another, and how he had rescued her life, while she grounded his. They had sparred, joked, and enjoyed each other’s presence-- 'It was all a ruse'. He thought of the friends he'd made in the squad, and their trust in him. He thought of Midnight, who has now told him that he would give his life for him. Hadn't be been pushing Twilight away for her own good? Did he not have those same feelings for her? Had she really betrayed him?
'She wants you. To keep you as her pet. She is betraying you!'
'W-Why... what has even been happening here? Why do I feel this... rage?
'That doesn't make sense; this world doesn't make sense. You need to get home. Stick to the mission.'
'These people are pretenders, not friends. Traitors and cowards!'
'You are a hyper-advanced super-soldier! Start acting like one!' His face twitched, he straightened his back ever so slightly, appearing taller.
"If you are unwilling to join me, then I will be leaving." Dean's voice was like ice. His mind was resolute, and it was if the last ten minutes of mad rambling and psychotic breaks had never happened. A sense of calm washed over the man, and he quickly walked towards the door. He stopped at the entrance and turned to the stock still form of what he'd thought was his friend. "It was an honour serving with you, Lieutenant Flow, but I have a war to win, and a family to go back to.
And with that, he was gone.
Midnight stood, his head drooped to the ground and his eyes holding a faraway look. Nothing that had happened made any sense. The switches in emotion, the reasoning, and the madness behind Deans mental state. He knew the Human wasn't sleeping or eating. It wasn't healthy, especially if someone of his size and physic required more than what was normal. The sudden switches from angered, to crazed, to docile, and then to ice-cold didn't add up. It was as though Dean was there part of the time, and the other part he was letting something else take control. Was it a protective response to his trauma? Or was it something much, much deeper?
He didn't know, and this led Midnight to straighten up. He would not be deterred, and he had faith the Sergeant would return to them. If he didn't... well, Midnight didn't want to go down that train of thought.
"Nighty?" He heard his marefriend's voice behind him and immediately straightened up. Turning, he quickly felt his worries melt as he beheld her gentle eyes. Midnight slowly trotted over and wrapped his leg around her neck in a firm hug.
"Are we going to be…okay?" He heard her ask. He knew why; the whole barracks probably had the same question.
"I don't know, Spits. What I do know is we need to be ready. The attack may have been called off, but this isn't over. We need to have faith that the Sergeant will come to his senses before it is too late." A seed of doubt wormed its way into his head, and he tried his best to squash it.
"I hope you are right, Nighty." Unwrapping from the hug, they quickly trotted out of Dean's room, gently closing the door behind them.
"Come on, lets consult the others before we do anything. I have a feeling that this is far from over."
*****
"--And so, it would seem the field is roughly the full diameter of the town. It's no wonder we haven't found it until now; the blasted thing is nearly perfect in its illusion."
"Aye, though now that we know where it is... how do we go starting the operation?"
"Silence, both of you."
Princess Mya sat on her stump as she stared into the concealed fire before her. Her and her band of Elves were under an invisibility field at the moment and were consulting on how they could capitalize on their new find. It was only recently they had learned the general location of the Resistance hideout, and it taken them another week to actually pinpoint its direct location. Right now, the group was planning on their infiltration that will usher in Operation Lavender Eclipse. The name was a bit on the nose, but she wasn't the one who had come up with it.
"Any word from Sergeant Kristoff, Commander?" She called to her friend. He was sitting outside of the invisibility field and was currently monitoring their scouts last known position.
"Nothing yet, Princess." He quietly called back. She did not respond.
"Say, your highness," a corporal off to her right started, "what of the Demon in Metal? Surely, we must account for him?"
Mya's ears twitched, and she gave a shallow hum as she twirled a stick in her hands.
"Trust me, corporal, the Demon is no longer a threat."
The others around the fire sat up in disbelief, and she inwardly smiled.
"How?"
"What?"
"Since when?"
Mya held up her hand to the curious soldiers, and they immediately shut their mouths. She eyed them all with a malicious smirk, causing a few to shiver in anticipation. She licked her lips.
"The Resistance was set to attack Canterlot in two days, and our original plan was to swoop in and grab the Princesses. However, there has been a... change of plans. My father’s pet managed to pierce its way into the Demon's mind, and he will soon be under our control. If I am not mistaken, it is either supposed to be tonight or tomorrow that he goes to Canterlot to side with us."
The others 'ooh'd' and smiled at the recent development. They knew how powerful the Demon was, and to have an asset like that working them, they would rule the entire world in a heartbeat. The Gryphons wouldn't stand a chance.
"Princess, you may wish to see this." Kioti's voice cut through the crackle of the fire like a spray of water. Mya was instantly up on her feet and powerwalking towards the commander. Her skin tingled as she passed through the invisibility field, but she paid it no mind as she grabbed the binoculars that were presented to her.
Eyes widening, Mya began to quietly chuckle. She would have outright laughed, but that was not a risk she could take. She saw the pieces falling into place, and realized that soon, she would finally be seen by her father as more than just an attack dog. She was cunning, and now, her plan was in motion.
Handing the binoculars back to the commander, she quickly walked back to the camp. The others had started a game of cards, but they all focused on her upon her entrance. She smiled a toothy smile, and pointed at the nearby magi-comm.
"Corporal, get on the line and contact high-command."
The corporal jumped to his feet and dialed in the respective frequency. Turning to her, he raised an eyebrow.
"They are on the line. What should I say, Princess?" Her smile grew wider.
"Tell them that The Demon has left Tartarus, and that operation Lavender Eclipse is a go."
Everyone at the camp smiled, but they were not of the joyful variety. Instead, each held a look of malevolence and cunning that had no right to be seen on a sapient being’s face. They chuckled and laughed quietly, for they all knew the truth:
The war was as good as won.