Cyborg Ninja Anon: Chapter One

>A spray of crimson erupts from the terrorist as you from him through with your blade from behind.

>He gargles for a moment as you retract your blade from his chest cavity, before slicing him through him from the right shoulder down.

>What was a spray of crimson quickly becomes something more like a geyser as the top half of the terrorists body slowly falls down and off to one side, with the lower half falling into a messy heap at your feet.

> You hear shouts in a foreign language as two more terrorists appear behind you, with a third one hiding next a wooden shack nearby.

>The two in the open take aim with their rifles as you begin dashing towards them, blade poised to strike.

>They open fire, but the might as well be shooting at the stone walls nearby; you’re much faster than they can aim, and the few rounds they manage to get somewhat near you, you deflect in a random direction with your blade.

>They start to panic as you close the distance, and, once you’re sure you won’t miss, you start to swing.

>Your first strike slices through the terrorist’s neck at a 45 degree angle, instantly killing him and beginning another blood fountain from the fresh wound.

>The second terrorist aims the barrel of his weapon at you, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to discharge it; a well-placed cut from your blade cuts the rifle in half.

>By the time he pulls the trigger, you’re getting ready for another attack, and only then does situation start to form in his mind...

>…right as you bisect the poor fellow straight down the middle.

>It takes a moment, but sure enough, the terrorist splits in two, both parts dropping to the floor, a pool of blood forming under each one.

 

>Turning to face the last one, you see him scurrying behind the wooden shack.

>Like that’s going to stop you.

>You take to the skies (by that, you jump up real high. Cybernetic implants are handy at times) and bring the blade over your head.

>Your vertical ascent slows, and you swing the blade down towards the earth as you plummet.

>It connects with the top of the shack, exploding as you plough straight through, your blade meeting a slight resistance before it slams against the ground.

>As the shack splits, you confirm why there was a bit of resistance against your attack; the poor bastard was struck straight down the middle, just like one of his comrades before him.

>You wait a moment and survey your surroundings, looking for any potential hostiles in the area.

>After a while with no contact, however, you swing your blade down, the motion carrying the blood with it, and sheath your sword.

>You raise your left hand to your ear piec-

>”Vidkryty vohonʹ!”

>You turn to face your new assailants, but by the time you manage to face them you already hear the sound of a rocket propelled grenade being launched towards your general direction.

>It doesn’t hit you directly, but it does impact on the remains of the wooden shack behind you.

>You’re flung forwards by the force of the blast.

>The last thing you see before blacking out are the faces of your attackers…

>…and an eerie purple-white glow surrounding your body.

 

>…

>…

>…

>You are Cyborg Ninja Alpha November Omega November.

>Or, for quicker pronunciation, Anon.

>Currently, however, names are not nearly as important in the current scenario.

>Namely because you’re flat on your back, staring upward into a somewhat clear blue sky, punctuated with the occasional cloud; a change of pace to the dark skies and numerous thunderclouds you’ve been seeing for the past few days.

>Rotating your head to the left, and then to the right reveals quite a conundrum; you’re in a forest. Not a concrete jungle. Not a desert. Not a skyscraper in sight. A forest.

>An actual god damned forest.

>You’re surrounded by lush greenery, trees climbing ever higher and higher, and shrubs and bushes all around.

>You sit up, and your visor snaps over your head, briefly making you see nothing but darkness.

>This sight is exceptionally short-lived, however, as the heads up display kicks into action.

>Everything appears to be working, barring two details that could help you figure out where the hell you are at the moment.

>The first one being the radar system; where you would see the outlines of building and dots to represent units, you see static.

>The second one is the comms system; your hotline to HQ, mission updates, information and more.

>Despite the fact that it’s offline, you’ll probably still try the comms anyway; you’ve got a knack for being a bit stubborn.

>Other than those two missing features, however, everything else is working, to some extent.

>Medical condition, local FOF ID system, inbuilt compass to show a basic level of direction, and more.

>You swear this HUD has things you haven’t tried out yet, but first you better check yourself over.

 

>You slowly stand up, a minor ache coursing throughout your body.

>Medical engineering at its finest; pain suppressors that dull the pain, allowing the user to focus on fighting… or retreating, should the need arise.

>These, of course, could be turned off, but you’ve never really found a use for doing so. Maybe if you suddenly found an interest in masochism it could come in handy?

>No, focus. Check yourself over.

>You look down at your cyborg body, and to your surprise, the only thing wrong with it is the fact it’s rather scruffy and dirty. Yet again, waking up in a bloody forest will often leave you with some sort of stain on you.

>You’re more surprised that the RPG round that exploded near you didn’t take a huge chunk out of you, let alone knock you out.

>Most of the dirt currently occupies your arms, lower torso and legs; you give yourself a liberal rub down, with most of the dirt and muck shifting off of your body, leaving in a cleaner state than what it was earlier.

>You admire your quick polish; your cyborg body was grey in colour, with a white streak going up the front of your torso, ending at your neck.

>At first glance, no-one would suspect you of being a cyborg; the body you’ve been provided with looks relatively human in shape. Add the fact that the suit itself wasn’t that armoured some other cyborgs and people would just assume it was a new foreign fashion trend.

>Upon closer inspection, however, a keen eye would note the lower right arm is most definitely a cybernetic prosthetic.

>You lost that part of your right arm in a skirmish in Africa. PMC business was hellish, but it definitely carried a good price to its name.

>And hey, you’re not dead. Not yet, anyway. So it’s all good.

 

>You raise your left hand and place your index and middle fingers to your left ear.

”This is Anon. I repeat, this is Anon. HQ, do you copy?”

>The gentle hum of static is your response to your enquiry.

”HQ, if you can hear this, please respond. Over.”

>Again, the gentle hum of static answers your question.

>With a dejected sigh, you remove your fingers from your ear, the sound of static snapping off immediately after.

>Well, with no contact with HQ is a bit of a blow. Especially since you have no sodding clue where you are.

>You’ve had no radio contact with HQ in the past though. You should be fine if you don’t do anything stupid.

>You quickly give your body another once over to make sure nothing was busted, and, once you’ve decided everything was still in one whole piece, you reach your right hand back to grab your bla-

>Your hand grasps at thin air, thin air where your HF blade should be.

>A bolt of panic strikes through you as you grab the sheath from your back and swing it into your field of vision; lo and behold, your blade is missing from its sheath.

>Your vision darts around the area, your visor trying to pick up any sign of your blade.

>Nothing.

“Shit”, you mutter, placing the empty sheath back onto your back.

>All right, let’s get some Priorities set.

>Priority One; stay safe.

>Priority Two; find your blade.

>Priority Three; re-establish contact with HQ.

>And Priority Four; get back home in one piece.

>Piece of cake. In theory, anyway.

>You know damn well it never works out like that, but a man can dream, right?

>With a sigh, you move into the forest, carefully scanning your surroundings for two things; any contacts, and your weapon.

>Who knows what’s going to be out here? For all you know, you could have been placed into a completely desolate land, or another hellish warzone.

>Although, to be fair, there isn’t a lot of fighting going on, or any signs of warfare in the local area.

>You push on deeper into the forest. This might take a while.

 

##POV Switch##

 

>You are Scootaloo, one of four proud members of the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

>Along with your friends and fellow CMC members, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, you’re constantly finding new ways to try and earn your Cutie Marks.

>Some ways were silly; some ways were doomed to fail.

>A few were dangerous, but the last time you and the other tried something like that was quite a while ago.

>…well, maybe this one was a bit risky too.

>You convinced Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle to come into the Everfree Forest with you to try and find something… awesome.

>It didn’t really matter what it was; an unknown animal, an old series of tombs, heck, another species!

>If you could find something THAT awesome, maybe you could finally get a Cutie Mark.

>And imagine the looks on every p0nies face if you found something really awesome! They’d be impressed for sure!

>Your train of thought, however, is interrupted by Sweetie Belle.

>”Are you sure we’ll find something interesting? I’m pretty sure the only things we will find in here are a few animals everyp0nies already seen”, Sweetie Belle asks, with a hint of nervousness in her question.

>The Everfree Forest was a pretty spooky place; you’ve been in it a few times, and that was usually with somep0ny like Applejack or Twilight to accompany you.

>Now, though, you’re not supervised. So, really, Sweetie Belle has the right to be a bit nervous about the current situation.

>”Yeah, ah reckon there won’t be much around here we ain’t seen yet, Scootaloo”, Apple Bloom interjects. “What’s the chance we’ll find something new?”

>You rub the back of your head with a forehoof sheepishly. “Hey, I’m willing to bet there’s a whole bunch of stuff that hasn’t been seen in this place yet. You can’t just give up straight away. Now c’mon, let’s keep going.”

>You press on a bit further, but a faint rustling in the distance stops you in your tracks.

 

>You get pushed forward a bit as your two companions behind you bounce into you, both of them unaware of the sound in the distance.

>”Sssh!” you exclaim quietly, as you raise one ear into the air ever so slightly…

>You hear it again, and this time, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom seem to have picked up on the sound as well.

>”What was that?” Sweetie asks worryingly.

>”Ah reckon it’s something big and scary”, Apple Bloom comments in a hushed tone. “We should all head back out-“

>A faint growl in the distance cuts her off. Ok, now you have a reason to really start worrying. You gulp.

> “Z-z-Zecora’s hut should be close by. W-we’ll head there for now”, you whisper to your two peers. They nod silently.

>You continue through the forest, roughly in the direction of the hut that Zecora lives in.

>The faint rustles and growls, thankfully, stay somewhat in the distance.

>A few times they sounded as if they got closer to your little group, but they often fell back to a distance soon after.

>Finally, you found the dirt path that leads the way up to Zecora’s hut, and the three of you start to pick up the pace.

>It was roughly about a quarter of the way down the path, however, that Apple Bloom stops your group.

>”Gals, look!” she exclaimed, pointing her right hoof into a large cluster of trees and bushes…

>… with a somewhat faint orange glow emanating from them.

>Without a single word being said amongst you all, you make your way over to the mysterious glow in the distance.

>The source of the glow, after a few moments of scuffling through bushes and small gaps, was, well, definitely mysterious.

>And most definitely awesome.

 

>About three feet away from you is… a really long knife.

>A really long, grey knife with a somewhat dull orange glow along the edge, stuck into the ground.

>You turn to Sweetie Belle. “Any idea what that is?” you ask.

>She shakes her head in response. “No idea. Maybe it’s some sort of ancient artifact?”

>Apple Bloom pipes up. “Maybe Twilight would know something about-“

>The growls from earlier echo out again. But this time, they are much loud, much closer.

>The three indistinctively huddle together, each of you looking in a direction the others are not.

>Sure enough, the source of the growling emerges from a nearby cluster of bushes; about five timber wolfs slowly slink out of the overgrowth.

>Timber wolfs were bad news. Twilight and Applejack both lectured you all on them; their bites had the ability to paralyze their victims.

>If one bit you, you were pretty much done for, unless you had capable p0nies to back you up.

>In this current scenario, however, it was three young fillies against five timber wolfs.

>As if the scene demanded it, you all scream loudly, hoping to attract the attention of anyp0ny, or anything, nearby for help.

>It doesn’t seem to work, however, as the five timber wolfs slowly begin to circle all three of you-

*CRASH*

>What the hay was that?

>The timber wolfs stop and turn towards the sound as well.

>A figure had landed in the midst of the area you were in.

>And it was most definitely NOT a pony.

 

##POV Switch##

 

>You are Anon.

>You decided that, since you weren’t detecting anything on your HUD or nearby, to pick up the pace.

>And by that, you meant a full-on sprint, vaulting over fallen tree trunks, and, just a few moments ago, up and along the tree tops as well.

>You were happy to be making progress until you heard a scream from nearby.

>Screams meant that someone was in trouble. Someone that could give you information.

>Someone who could help you find a way back to some form of civilisation.

> Following the source of the scream, you double timed it over to the area where it originated.

>Jumping from the last branch you stepped on you land with a very loud four point landing upon the ground.

>You look up-

>What the fuck.

 

>There are two things wrong with the current scene. Let’s list them off.

>Firstly, there are what appears to be wolves made of solid wood. Five of them, to be precise.

>Secondly, there were three small…horses, in the centre of them. All three of them were multi coloured, one of them had wings, and another had a horn upon its head.

>Your main focus should be on the wolves. After all, fangs and claws are capable of some pretty nasty injuries.

>You stand up, noticing an all too familiar orange glow to your left.

>Your High Frequency Blade, gunmetal grey in colour, with a gentle orange glow stretching from the tip to near the handle of the blade, embedded about half a foot into the earth.

>Well, at least you’ve found your weapon.

>And it seems you’ll be putting to use a little sooner than you would like to.

>You cast your gaze over the creatures in front of you. The wooden beasts have decided you’re much more of a threat than the small equines, and are now actively circling you.

>The equines in question take the opportunity to scurry into one of the many, many bushes that inhabit the area.

>You’re not becoming a snack to some wooden logs that have been given life any time soon.

>Flexing your shoulders slightly, you gently grasp the handle of your blade and ever so slowly pull it out of the ground.

>A few crackles of electricity could be heard as the blade made its way out of the earth and into your grasp.

>When you’re sure you’ve fully removed the blade, you slowly, gracefully, turn the blade upwards, grasping the handle with both hands.

>Your grip tightens as one of the wolves lunges at you.

 

>You side-step the attack, the wolf landing a short distance away from you.

>Another wolf takes the opportunity to try and strike your while your back is turned.

>Like that’s going to happen.

>You prime your swing, and start to turn on the spot, dropping into a crouch about halfway through.

>The wolf seems to realise what is about to happen, but it very well knows it’s too late as you swing the blade towards its midsection.

>It produces a clean cut, splitting the wolf into two, the bisected pieces landing behind you in a messy heap.

>Rather than wait for another wolf to being attack, you decide to get on the offensive.

>You dash towards the nearest wolf and swing the blade horizontally.

>The wolf didn’t expect you to move that fast; the force of the blow sends the top half of the wolf flying into a nearby bush, which in turn produces audible squeaks of surprise.

>That’s probably the same bush that the three p0nies are hiding in right now.

>You can’t help but smirk as you blitz over to the next wolf, aiming your next strike down in an attempt to cleave it in half.

>Unfortunately, the wolf anticipates your attack and sidesteps your attack at the last second.

>Unfortunately for the wolf, however, you have a trick up your sleeve that doesn’t involve your blade.

 

>You thrust your left palm into the wolf.

>Normally, this would be a silly thing to do. Well, it would be if you weren’t a cyborg ninja.

>You let loose a loud blast of kinetic energy from your extended palm, sending the wolf rocketing into a nearby tree trunk, shattering on impact and sending chunks of wood everywhere.

>Not many people see that move coming. It’s fantastic for busting your way through someone’s block…

>… not like these wolves had much in the way of a block in the first place.

>Speaking of wolves, let’s check our numbers; three wolves are down, two remain.

>And both of them are a little bit more hesitant in their attacks.

>Well, after seeing two of their kin get sliced in half and one of them blasted into a tree, they have an excuse to be cautious.

>You resume your stance. You don’t want to let your guard down just yet.

>…

>Moments pass as none of you make any moves.

>Well, someone has to make a move. Might as well end this little conflict now.

 

>You adopt a half-crouch and sheath your blade, maintaining a solid grip on the handle with both hands.

>You exhale, and start counting in a hushed tone.

“One.”

>The wolves adopt a stance suggesting they are going to charge into you.

“Two.”

>Your grip on the handle tightens, the muscles in your legs poised.

>You were like a coiled spring; once let loose, all that energy needs to go somewhere.

>And right now, that energy was going to be directed at the two wooden beasts in front of you.

“Three.”

>The wolves start running at you.

>Oh boy, BIG mistake on their part.

>You blast towards them from your position, your tensed leg muscles providing a lot of sudden acceleration.

>You begin to swing your blade in another horizontal slash, aimed to take both wolves down with one attack.

>You didn’t expect to put this much effort into the attack though; your blade is swung with such force behind it that you don’t even feel it pass through the two wolves, a bright orange trail in the air where you began your attack. The term “overkill” springs to mind.

 

>You come to a complete stop, adopting another half-crouch, you blade extended behind you to your left.

>It takes a moment, but you hear it eventually; the sound of wood falling upon wood, the notification that the two wolves have been slain.

>You remain in the half-crouch stance for a few moments longer, inhaling and exhaling, the sound of your heartbeat barely audible over a sudden slow rustling emerging from behind you.

>The multi-coloured equines. You almost forgot about them.

>Standing up, you keeping a solid grip on your weapon with your right hand.

>As you turn around, you can see conflicting emotions and opinions on the faces of the three creatures in front of you.

>The pale yellow one with a red mane, complete with a hair bow, was staring at you in shock, her mouth slightly agape from what it just witnessed.

>The white one with a mane with various shades of purple and pink, along with a small horn on its forehead, seems to be mortified with what you’ve just accomplished.

>The orange one with a cerise mane and small wings on its back, however, looks positively ecstatic about herself.

>”OHMYGODTHATWASSOAWESOME!” the young equine exclaimed with very little in the way of breathing room or spaces.

>Ok, this is odd AND disturbing at the same time.

>For one, you’ve just fought animated pieces of wood. And now a horse is making conversation with you. Not to mention it’s speaking the same language as you. Judging from the voice, you would guess this one to be female.

>She takes a breath before continuing, this time with some sense of control in her words.

 

>”The way you just showed up! A-and the way you just cut through those timber wolves was just amazing!” she says, bouncing on the spot excitedly. “But then you sent that other one flying, like, BLAM!” she exclaims, pointing at the tree you blasted one of those “timber wolves” into.

>You cast your gaze over to the tree in question; sure enough, there is an impact mark were the beast landed, and below that, a somewhat scruffy pile of wood and twigs under it, the remains of the particular timber wolf.

>Kinetic energy is pretty strong stuff if used right.

>You nod slightly before returning your gaze over to the three young equines in front of you. The horned one seems to have calmed down slightly, along with the pale yellow one, but the winged one is still excited.

“Calm down, would y-“

>You don’t even get to finish you sentence as all three of the pastel coloured equines gasp in unison.

>”You can TALK?” says the white, horned one.

>You nod in response to the filly’s question. “Yes, I can. In fact, I’ve been talking for a long, long time. Why are you surprised?”

>The previously in shock filly was the next one to speak up.

>”Well, ya’ll are something we’ve never seen before! Ah reckoned ya’ll wouldn’t speak our language!”

>Behind your visor, you frown. If this is a dream, it is certainly one of the more crazy ones you’ve had. “Angels could weep” levels of crazy, but crazy none the less.

“Well, to be fair, it’s not every day you wake up in a forest, with no contact with your friends, or anyone for that fact. And it’s most certainly not every day you encounter wolves made of wood and horses that can communicate verbally with one another. Not to mention, due to some bizarre luck, we can understand each other.”

 

>Realizing you still hold your HF Blade in your hand, you deftly swing the blade to right, much to the young fillies shock; the sudden movement must have taken them by surprise as they flinch collectively.

>Not that you intended to harm them, you would never, ever hurt a minor.

>Terrorists you would cut down, cyborgs you would eliminate without question, but children? You’d rather hang up your blade and go into hiding than do something as dark and cruel as that.

>Besides, the action you preformed was to clean the blade of any residue that might have been residing upon it.

>Satisfied that the blade was clean, you bring the tip of it to the beginning of the sheath, and gently slide the rest of the blade in, ending with an immensely satisfying *click* as the blade was fully nestled inside the sheath.

>Knowing that your blade was secured, you fold your arms in front of your chest. The three fillies still seemed a little put off by your sudden movement. You sigh.

“Look, if you think I’m going to hurt you, I would think again. I don’t hurt children, and judging from your size, you don’t seem like the sort of being that would try and off me.”

>You crouch down to their level, placing your arms over your legs. The trio of equines seem to loosen up a bit at this. The yellow one is the one to break the silence.

“Mister, just what in Celestias name are you?”

>Celestia? Must be someone important. Sounds important anyway.

“Me? Well, I guess the correct answer to that would be “human”, you respond.

>The fillies look amongst themselves, as if one of them knew what a human was.

>Well, you answer was somewhat true, given the fact your augmented with cybernetic enhancements. You’re actually classed as a cyborg.

 

“I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry, I’ll answer that question later. But first, I reckon we should start with some introductions, don’t you?” you suggest, casting a glance at the winged filly. “Ladies first.”

>She appears to be taken off-guard at first, but her demeanour quickly changes to answer your question.

>One by one, the young fillies introduce themselves to you; the winged one , Scootaloo, the horned one, Sweetie Belle, and the… “normal” one, Apple Bloom.

>You say “normal” because horses cannot talk. Well, they don’t talk back where you come from, anyway.

>Yet again, you’re just as foreign and mysterious to them as they are to you.

“Well, your names are… normal and unusual at the same time, compared to the ones people get called back where I originate.”

>Sweetie Belle cocks an eyebrow out of curiousity. “Really? What’s your name then?”

>You smile, and as if by magic, your visor retracts itself back into storage, finally giving the young fillies a chance to see what you actually look like.

“My name? Well, I have two, but only one gets really used.”

>Scootaloo is the next one to speak up. “What is it?”

“My most common name? It would be Anonymous.”

>The trio in front of you look at you with confused expressions on their face. Your smile grows a little in response.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’ll answer THAT question, but I’ll answer it later. First, I have a question to ask you that I was hoping you could help me with.”

>Apple Bloom takes this as a cue to ask; “What do you want to know?”

>You stand up, gazing down at the little fillies, who in turn gaze up at you.

“Where am I right now?”

>”You’re in the Everfree Forest, just a little ways away from Ponyville”, Scootaloo responds. Suddenly, her eyes go wide.

 

>You’re not too sure if they are going wide from shock, surprise, or something completely different-

>”Hey, I know! We can take you there! I’m sure everyone would LOVE to see you! And people always love to see new things! Right girls?”

>Scootaloo directs that last question to her two companions. They too, seem excited all of a sudden.

>”Yeah! C’mon, Ponyville is this wa-“

>You don’t give Apple Bloom a chance to finish her sentence as you raise a hand up to stop her. She obliges.

“Hold up. Are there not going to be more things that will attempt to maim and kill us on the way there? If so, you’re not shooting off ahead; all three of you are not in the position to fight.”

>All three of the fillies give you a concerned look. “Well, ah think that if we stick to the path, then we won’t find much” Apple Bloom responds.

>Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle nod. “Besides, if we run into anything, you’ll protect us… right?” Sweetie Belle adds.

>You’d reply that you’re not going to make any promises, but now you’re being given the puppy dog eyes from all three of the young p0nies.

>It doesn’t take long for them to obtain a response from this.

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep you safe. Just stay close, alright?”

>Satisfied with your response, the three fillies beam at you and make their way that you assume is the path they talked about.

>Sure enough, you find yourself on a well-worn dirt path, leading off in two directions.

>”C’mon Anonymous, Ponyville’s this way!” Sweetie Belle exclaim, motioning you to follow her with a hoof.

>Applebloom and Scootaloo are both staring at you expectantly. Well, better not keep them waiting.

>You DID say you would protect them. Better hold that up.

“You better be thankful that I have a soft spot for youngsters” you mutter to yourself as you follow the trio along the dirt path.

 

>It takes a while, but you do eventually find yourself on the outskirts of the forest.

>There wasn’t much in the name of combat or threats when you were travelling; the closest you got to combat was hearing a low rumbling quite close to you.

>And even then, that turned out to be Apple Blooms way of saying she was hungry.

>Scootaloo was right; you can make out a village nearby from your current vantage point. That’s probably “Ponyville” that she mentioned.

>She seems to pick up on your train of thought as she breaks the silence.

>”Well, Ponyville is just up ahead. It shouldn’t take too long to reach”, Scootaloo pipes up.

>You look down at the little orange filly and give a quick nod as part of your response.

“You can ask those questions you were going to ask earlier now, if you want. Got nothing better to do” you say to the fillies.

>Apple Bloom is the first one to ask a question. “Anonymous, where exactly are ya from?”

>You maintain pace with the trio as you reply to Apple Blooms question.

“Well, I hail from America, although my birthplace is Britain-“

>”Mister”, Scootaloo interrupts, “I’ve never heard of those places before. In fact, I think nop0ny has.”

>You chuckle lightly at her remark. Of course no-one would have heard of those places; they are completely foreign to them.

“Well, of course not. I mean, this is probably the first time you’ve ever heard of a place named like that, just like I’ve never heard of a place called “Ponyville” before” you retort.

>”That seems reasonable, I guess”, Sweetie Belle adds as you make your way down the pathway, follow the trio of fillies as you all trek towards Ponyville.

“Okay, this might be a bit silly, but what’s the name of this place as a whole? Like, the planet?” you ask.

>The trio in front of you turn to face you, but Scootaloo is the one to answer your question. “It’s called Equestria, Anonymous. Why’d you ask?”

>That confirms it then. Any chance that you might be somewhere on planet Earth? Gone…

>…although, giving up now isn’t a viable option. C’mon now, you’re in the land of talking horses, that could be a way to get back home.

>Got to take it on the chin.

 

“Just confirming where I am. I’m definitely not on Earth, that’s for sure.”

>”Earth? That’s the name of your planet?” Sweetie Belle questions.

“Yes.  Really, from what I’ve seen so far, it’s no different to this place.”

>You pause, thinking over your words before continuing.

“Well, mostly different. There are many things happening where I come from. People would love our home to be more like this place”, you continue, thoughts of the war-torn landscapes back home still fresh in your mind.

>Memories of all the people you killed. Like before you got transported here. Three fresh kills to your name.

>It’s “just business”, apparently.

>Yes, you get paid for effectively being a cybernetic hit-man; you get paid for ending people’s lives.

>And yet, here you are, surrounded by a world where fighting and warfare doesn’t rage around you on a near daily basis.

>How in god’s name are you going to fit in here? You’re someone who was built to kill, another cog in the war machine that never stops.

>And yet everything is so damned peaceful. Desperado and Maverick would be having hissy fits if they saw this.

>Not like you would give two shits about them though. You’re freelance, always have-

>”What do you mean by that?”

>Apple Bloom crashes your train of thought. You take a deep breath.

“There are things where I come through that no-one should have to go through. Things no-one should see in their lives. And yet, most of us got forced into a life choice that no-one picked.”

>You stop, and so do the trio as they turn to meet your gaze.

“And before any of you ask, no, I am definitely NOT divulging any information about what happened back where I come from. Not to young ones, anyway.”

>Scootaloo looks like she was about to say something, but a stern look from you makes her re-think about aski-

>“Um…girls.”

 

>You look up, the fillies turning around, to look at where the quiet, feminine voice originated.

>Just a little bit further down the path stands another winged p0ny, much like Scootaloo, only with a light yellow in colour with a light pink mane, her flank adorned with what appears to be three butterflies.

>So, there are talking horses in this world, and the adults (you think they are adults) seem to have tattoos on their rear ends.

>This place seems to be getting freakier and freakier, but you remain silent as you lock eyes with the mare.

>Her eyes go wide at the sight of you. Her eyes shrink down to the size of pin-pricks. Well, to be fai-

>”EEP!”

>And that’s all you get to hear before she disappears in a cloud of smoke, smoke that trailed off into the village.

>Wearing a somewhat “not impressed” look upon your face you cast your gaze down to Apple Bloom. All three of the fillies are looking at you.

“…did I do something wrong?” You ask. “All I did was look at her because she attracted my attention.”

>”Ah, don’t worry”, Apple Bloom re-assures you, “Fluttershy’s often like that around new folk… although, she has a reason to be like that, I guess”, obviously referring to the fact that it’s not common to see a human walking around in a world of equines that can converse.

“She seems to be heading into the village. Shall we go?”

>And with that, the four of you pick up the pace down the pathway.

>After some time travelling, you arrive at the entrance to Ponyville. Almost immediately, your eyes get assaulted by multi-coloured horses trotting about the place. Most are oblivious to your arrival, but a few have taken notice of a stranger amongst their ranks.

>Much like when you first met the fillies there are quite a few different expressions you can see, most are confused, a few are in shock, and even fewer are intrigued by your arrival.

>The fillies lead the way in and you follow, although at a slower pace. You don’t want to freak any of them out. Not right now, anyway.

 

>Soon enough you find yourself in what could very well be the middle of the village. And you still have no idea where that yellow mare went. You cough, and ask a question to the trio in front of you.

“Any idea where this “Fluttershy” might be? Got to apologise to her for spooking her.”

>Scootaloo, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle all look at you, then around the area, but a slight moment after, the answer comes from a familiar voice.

>“T-t-that’s it, right there!”

>You slowly turn your head in the direction of the voice, and find not only the rather timid mare, but you also find five more pastel coloured horses, each with different colour scheme and tattoo on their backsides, standing in front of a building made entirely out of frosting, gingerbread and various other toppings.

>If only you had a dollar for every strange thing that is going to happen…

>One of them, an orange coloured p0ny with a blonde mane and a light brown Stetson upon its head, speaks up.

>“Now what in tarnation do ya’ll think yer doin’, scaring off Flutteryshy like that?” she jabs at you, giving you the stink eye. “And what do yer think ya’ doin’ with mah sister?!” she adds, spotting Apple Bloom close behind you. She speaks with a thick Texan accent. Senator Armstrong might have like this one.

>”Sweetie Belle!” a voice calls out from behind the orange mare, as a white p0ny with a purple mane bustling through to the front of the crowd, “What in Celestia’s name do you think you’re doing, going off into the Everfree Forest without telling me?!”

>This one speaks in a rather lofty, higher-than-thou sort of tone, the sort of voice you’d associate to king and queens. Posh folk in general.

>You can hear hooves pawing at the dirt nervously. That’s probably Sweetie Belle re-acting to getting yelled at.

“Siblings, I assume”, you ask the two in a hushed tone, of which the quickly nod their heads in response. “Well, go on, don’t keep them waiting. I can handle myself. Go on.”

>And with that, the two quickly scurry over to their respective siblings, both of which are giving you some serious mean looks.

>If they weren’t multi-coloured, and were a bit taller, they might actually look threatening. You cross your arms.

“So… no-one’s going to take responsibility for Scootaloo then?” you inquire, stepping to the side and showing the young winged filly that was hiding behind you.

>Almost immediately, another voice rings out. “Scootaloo! There you are!” The source for this particular voice came from a now flying p0ny, light blue in colour with a rainbow mane, hovering just above the group in question.

>Scootaloo seems happy to see the flying mare, and two race out to join each other before they both return to the group, now composed of no more than nine pastel coloured p0nies.

>The shouting and movement seems to have really attracted a lot of attention, you note, as a quick glace about the place reveals that most, if not all, eyes are on you and the group at the moment.

 

>The mare with the rainbow mane speaks up again. “Now why’d you go and scare Fluttershy like that, huh?” she questions you. “She didn’t do anything!”

>You try to respond, but you’re cut off by the prismatic one before you can say anything.

>”Is that what you find funny? You enjoy scaring others for kicks?” she adds, landing on the ground and adopting what looks like a comba-

>No. Is she serious?

>Is she going to try and fight you?

>”Well, no-one picks on my friends! Especially some freaky looking hairless ape that comes walking out of the forest!”

>You’ve had quite enough of this one’s attitude. You’re going to pull your punches, sure. And you’re definitely not going to use your blade. But you’re not going to take any more verbal lashings from a technicolour dream horse.

“So, let me get this straight”, you say in a slightly annoyed tone, “I just saved three young fillies from becoming a snack to some local beasts, and you call me a, quote on quote, “freaky looking hairless ape.”

>The group look shocked at the revelation that you can speak and understand your language, much like the group of fillies were. You don’t give any of them a chance to question you on this, though, as you raise and point your finger at the mare that called you out.

“And then, whilst escorting your siblings back here, and running into “Fluttershy” over there”, you continue, casting a stern, narrow-browed look at the now quivering winged mare currently hiding behind the orange and white mares, who both look rather concerned at the current predicament, “she happens to get scared and tell you guys that there might be something big, unknown and scary coming this way with some missing children, most of you look at me like I was going to do something nasty to them.”

>You return your gaze to the rainbow coloured mare, who is still staring you down. Well, at least she’s got a backbone.

“And now, you’re calling me out as some freak that enjoys making other people’s lives a living hell? I don’t like your attitude. I don’t like the fact you jumped the gun. And judging by your stance at the moment, I certainly don’t like the fact you were probably going to smack me, were you not?”

>The mare gulps, but still stays in the stance she adopted. She’s not backing down.

“Well, words seem to have failed. Allow me to show you how we deal with a problem that can’t be solved peacefully back where I come from. But, I’ll just warn you right now-“

>You’re cut off from completing your sentence by a very deep, loud howl coming from quite a distance away behind you.

 

>You have a feeling it’s another timber wolf. Maybe you can convince the group that you’re not some mentally depraved being that wants to endanger everyone.

“We’ll finish this later” you say to the group. “But first, you want to know why those fillies trusted me? Follow me, watch and learn.”

>You begin to turn around, and as you do, you notice that most of the p0nies are not gazing at you anymore; rather they are looking roughly in the direction that howl came from.

>As you make your way back to the entrance, you can hear what sounds like very large footsteps.

>What is odd is that you can feel them too; each time you hear them, the ground shakes in response slightly.

>When you do reach the entrance to the village, you can see the source of the ruckus. Like you suspected, it was a timber wolf.

>The main problem is the fact that... it’s a rather large timber wolf. And by large, you mean “slightly larger than most of the building in the village” large.

>It raises its head into the air and gives off one of the loudest howls you think you’ll ever hear in your life, before lowering its head to gaze down to you. If it had hackles, they would be raised. Doesn’t stop it from growling at you in a pretty scary way.

>You quickly check behind you, and see that most, if not all of the two were behind you, abet a good distance away. In the middle of the crowd, you spot the group that contained the spectrum colour mare.

>You return you gaze to the wolf and reach behind you, you fingers grasping the handle of your HF Blade once again. You pull it out of the sheath, and adopt a combat stance, levelling the blade next to your head.

“Come on then, you big beasty.”

>Your visor snaps down over your face.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”