>You shield your eyes as you awaken from your slumber.
>It’s been so long since you’ve seen the blinding rays of the sun.
>Yet instead of anger, you only find relief in the warmth it brings.
>Swinging your hips off the side you place your bare feet on the tiled floor.
>Yes, this was your home. Was…
>The nostalgia passes just as quickly as it came, your mind revisiting yesterday’s events.
>How could you have been so weak? To betray your very morals for personal gain…
>But in truth you’d do it over again in a heart beat.
>You made her a promise, and you never break your promises.
 
>You pick up the garbs next to your bed, the same clothes you’d worn for the past hundreds of years.
>Maybe it’s time for something new?
>Tossing them aside you open your closet, your old clothes still hanging neatly inside.
>Besides the obvious buildup of dust, it’s almost as if you never left.
>One particular set catches your eye and you take out the old denim pants and silk shirt.
>It’s been over six centuries since you first found yourself on Canterlot’s doorstep, give or take twenty or fifty years.
>The looks on the guard’s faces were hilarious, but you can reckon the one on yours was priceless.
>You remember sitting there on the dirt road staring back at the armor-clad ponies, completely dumbfounded by the sight.
>Most of the dirt has been washed off since, but you still find the same streak that has plagued the jeans since your arrival.
 
>These clothes had served you faithfully in your life. You’re tempted to don your old pals, but you’ve outgrown them quite a bit.
>Perhaps you can find somep0ny to tailor them for you, but alas, that’s for another time.
>Your eyes fall back to your discarded pair of clothes, seemingly the only pair that’ll fit.
>You sigh and slip back into your previous outfit with disdain. You were hoping for something a little… fresh.
>Hooves knock against your door, “Heya Anon? You in there?”
“What is it?”
>”Anonymous has requested your presence. Hurry up will ya?”
“Hold your horses. Damn, p0nies these days. No patience.”
>You finish up and open the door, the orange p0ny you saw yesterday waiting for you.
“Back in my day p0nies had respect for another’s time and being.”
>”Don’t you get all other timey on me, we got places to be.”
“Fine, after you.”
 
>She leads you out and through the castle halls.
“What did you say your name was again?”
>”I didn’t.” You didn’t know harpies flew this far south.
“Apple-something or other, right? Forgive me, but I’m terrible with names.”
>”I’m sure.”
“A little short with the words huh? Applejack! Your name’s Applejack.”
>”What made you remember?”
“You were being a jackass, so the shoe kind of fit.”
>She scoffs at your attempt at humor and gives you the cold shoulder.
>”So what’s your story? Another drop-in I presume.”
“I don’t exactly follow.”
>”Why’d he bring ya here?”
 
“How should I know? The guy snuck into my cell and broke me out so I could fight for him. I didn’t ask why.”
>”So you were a prisoner? I don’t know many prisons in Equestria.”
“Well Tartarus ain’t quite as nice.”
>She stops and stares at you, “Wait, you’re…”
“Dead Anon, at your service,” you say with a grin.
>”Why- How- But-“
“Ask that douche you call a leader. I’m just here for the reward.”
>”B-but what would you want? You’re dead!”
“The only thing a dead man would want. Life.”
>”You’re crazy.”
“Just enough to follow this freak, and what does that say about you?”
>”I got my own reasons to follow ‘im.”
“I’m sure you do.”
 
>You get ahead of her, “I do! I do, ya hear?!”
“Whatever you say AJ. Throne room? Throne room.”
>She angrily follows behind you, likely frustrated about how you called her out on the rug.
“To answer your question, I was a hero. Before I died of course. I took the title of those who came before me and did my job. Have you ever lost, but won at the same time AJ?
>”Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, it changed my life. It didn’t seem that way at first, but after I got used to her…”
>”You lost to a mare?”
>Her questioning words were meant to sting, but they fail to dampen your spirit.
“She was special, and I would do anything to be with her again.”
>”Are you sure she’s still alive?”
“Love is one thing that surpasses time. Yes, she’s alive.”
>You push open the throne room doors, ending the conversation there.
 
>”Anon, glad you could make it,” Anonymous booms upon your entry. “Applejack, you can take your leave now.”
>”Yes sir.”
>She breaks away from your side, “Come Anon, let’s relax a while.”
>He darts towards you and sits, a couch appearing at the snap of his fingers.
>”Éclair?” he asks brandishing a plate.
“No thanks, two’s enough for me.”
>He shakes his finger at you with a smile, “Oh you… Gustav told me someone snatched one last night. You sneaky sneak you.”
>A gleam catches his eye, “A toast then, to the beginning of great things.”
>Another snap and a chalice falls in your hands, “Bottoms up.”
>You figure “why not?” and gulp at the contents.
 
>You spit out the crimson liquid, spewing it over the floor.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”
>The taste of blood is extra potent, unlike the treated stuff you got back in Frostbite.
>”Drink up now, you need your strength.”
>Even with the little you ingested you can feel the tingle as its corruption spreads through you.
>But you prepared for this, just in case.
>You grab hold of the liquid within, focusing your mind and gradually clearing the infection from you.
>With a final push you spew the last of your contents from your gullet, the floor layered with your conquest.
>”How wasteful, blood doesn’t grow on trees you know… actually…”
>That… simpleton. The nerve! He’s lucky you acted as quick as you did.
 
>You grab him by the collar, the fucker just grinning happily.
“Do you think this is a motherfucking game? Have you any idea what you almost did?”
>”Yes,” He answers plainly, “Do you?”
>You pull back your fist to hit him. “I don’t think so,” a voice whispers in your head.
“No, you don’t win that easily.”
>”I think I just did,” he replies, lips unwavering.
>Even with all your strength your arm refuses to budge, your body seemingly locked into place.
>He carefully removes your hold on him and speaks, “I had hoped you’d be more understanding, seems I was wrong.”
“Can say that again.”
>His eyes flare with anger, the first time you’ve seen him like this.
>”I gave you a second chance, you damn well show me respect.”
“Fuck you.”
 
>A flash of pain washes over your fast as he rubs his fist, “You may have been some great man where you came from, but here-“
>He comes in with his left, “You’re just another dog you little bitch.”
>Your hand meets his own as he comes in again, “Wha-“
>Freeing yourself from his paralysis you throw his fist back.
“This dog has teeth.”
>He’s even stronger than you originally thought, a shame such power was wasted on his feeble soul.
>You know you can’t beat him in one-on-one combat, not without leaving either your body or mind open to his assault.
“Show me the right place to use them.”
>He blinks in confusion, “You’re not angry?”
“I know better than to let my emotions get the better of me.”
>You wipe the blood off your chin, the smell tantalizingly sweet, a façade to its devastating nature.
 
“So why’d you ask me here? Business or pleasure?”
>”I can’t just hang out with another person?”
>He looks to the floor, “Let’s take a walk so this place can be tidied up.”
>You follow his lead, walking out into the courtyard.
>A row of surly midgets in robes walk about in the courtyard along with all manners of foreign beings.
“I’ve never seen creatures like these before. I’ve been gone a long time it would seem.”
>”They aren’t native to this land. Anyone with a gaming console would recognize at least half of these guys.”
“Consoles… Far too long.”
>”Did they have consoles in your time?”
“Of course, but you guys must have flying cars and virtual reality shit by now.”
>He chuckles, “Don’t get your hopes up.”
 
>”I’ve brought them here in hopes of replacing the, less than formidable p0ny brigades at my disposal.”
“They’re certainly nothing extraordinary.”
>”And under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures.”
“Is the threat you’re facing that great?”
>”Nothing I couldn’t handle myself, but I am a lazy man. Besides, I have something extra special up my sleeve.”
“Speaking of the opposition, you haven’t told me who I’ll be fighting.”
>”Minotaurs, griffons, the works.”
>At last, enemies worthy of fighting. Prison inmates don’t make very good game.
>”You won’t be fighting any of them of course.”
“Don’t fuck with me.”
>”I have a special assignment for you, a precautionary measure in case things go south.”
“I’m listening.”
>”You will be my bodyguard.”
 
“Bullshit.”
>”I can handle myself against any threat thrown at me, but recent events have led me to reevaluate that claim.”
>Interesting. He may not say it, but there’s an underlying fear in his voice.
“Who leads this band against you?”
>His grin is fatigued, a sliver of his humanity shining through, “My brother.”
“A family feud is it?”
>”He’s grown stronger than I estimated and has only continued to accumulate power.”
“So you want me to shadow you, and in the case that he gets the upper hand…”
>”I want you to drive your sword through his heart.”
>The light fades, the blackness of his soul complete.
“You can’t make me do what you ask. You aren’t thinking clearly.”
>”When the cards are down you have to make a choice. Life? Or Death?
 
>”You don’t have to make your decision now. Sleep on it. Roll around with it.”
“Where will you be?”
>He points to a tower back at the castle, “Where an old tyrant falls, another will rise.”
“You could’ve just said there.”
>”But that’s just sooo boring.”
>You can’t help but crack a smile.
“I’ll be there.”
>”Don’t disappoint me.”
>You nod your head respectfully and walk back into the castle.
>”Today is the eve of a golden age Mr. Anon!” he shouts after you.
>”And tomorrow all eyes will fall to Canterlot, watching the birth of this new age.”
>You nod and walk back into the castle, leaving him to his idiotic ramblings.
>The day is young, but even still you find yourself overcome by an unnatural drowsiness.
>A grumbling rolls from your stomach.
>Time for bed.
 
>You clench your side as you make your way back through the halls of Canterlot.
>The guards give you a few glances but stay at their post.
>You’ve felt the craving before, but never like this.
>Every p0ny you pass is a feast, their very being a buffet for you to feast upon.
>It wouldn’t take much. You can almost feel your teeth sinking into-
>No! You’re not a monster. You will overcome this. You’ve come too far to fall now.
>Unsheathing your blade slightly you shove the palm of your hand along the blade.
>It stings, but there are things much worse than a little cut.
>This time you’ve earned a few long stares from those around you.
“Got something to say?”
>They look forward in response.
“That’s what I thought.”
>You press the cut to your lips, your own flesh safe for consumption.
 
>”Ghastly!”
>You stop at your door and glare down the hallway at the white unicorn on approach.
>”What do you think you’re doing walking around like that? A filly dresses better!”
“Piss off.”
>The unicorn follows as you walk inside, shutting the door behind her.
“Are you deaf? I said go away.”
>”And just what are you, blind? I cannot allow such a disaster be walking around.”
>Calm yourself Anon, retain control. You suckle at your palm, kicking off your shoes.
>”My word, what did you do to your hand!?”
>She rushes to your side and tears your bleeding hand away.
>Your blood seeps slowly from your wound, the blackish ooze a frightening sight.
>Her mouth widens to speak but only to remain silent.
>She releases you from her grip and allows you to bandage the cut.
“I think it would be best for you to leave now.”
 
>She shakes her head, “I had heard you were… different, but not like this.”
“Look, miss-
>”Rarity.”
“Rarity. I’m tired, I just want to go to sleep. I’m sure that’s something you can appreciate.”
>”Fashion waits for no one. Not even the- the umm- people like you.”
“You want to make yourself useful? My closet’s right over there.”
>You strip off your clothing and put them on the nightstand.
‘You look like a mare who can work a set of clothes. Tailoring my old clothing should be no problem.”
>”It’s not that easy, there are so many measurements to take into account…”
“These should work,” you reply pointing to the nightstand.
>”I didn’t catch your name,” she says as you slip into bed.
“Anon. Goodnight Rarity.”
 
>You find yourself standing in the entrance of a tunnel, darkness looming before you.
“Hello?” you shout, your voice echoing through the passageway.
>No response. You look around at the nearby tundra, broken sediment beneath your feet.
>You’ve been here before, the stiffness of the air, the ever-present silence. It’s all too familiar.
>Most people would be intimidated by the black void before them. Likely a fear of the unknown.
>But you know what lurks beneath the shadows of the mountain.
>You know of the evil that waits behind every corner.
>It is not the unknown, it is the misunderstood.
>They lurk because they cannot shine in the sun.
>Their only evil doing is that they wish to survive.
>You step out into the darkness, back home.
 
>A thunderous roar pounds your ears, spiraling you back into the realm of the living.
>You roll out of bed, hitting the cold floor as your room visibly shakes.
>Screams cut through the air as you clamor to your feet.
>How long have you been asleep? Could you have slept for that long?
>You pick up your sword and rush to the door, naked except for your boxers.
>A note is pinned inside, “I started work on your clothes, but they may not be done by the time you wake up.”
>She obviously didn’t expect for you to sleep for that fucking long.
>”My room is on the north side of the castle. It’s not hard to find. With love, Rarity.”
>You sigh, slipping your shoes on as another tremor rocks the castle walls.
>Guards and other creatures rush past the door as you peek it open.
>As the surge passes you slip out into the hallway, your body exposed to the world.
>Gotta find Rarity’s room in a jiffy.
 
>You scamper alongside the wall, keeping your eyes peeled for anyone nearby.
>The sword in your hand stays tight to your chest, always at the ready.
>You peek around the corner, looks clear. But that’s just looks.
>One of the metallic p0ny creatures darts down the hallway beside the shattered windows.
>With a single shriek the creature disappears from view, a pair of talons sweeping in and dragging him away.
>Sneaky bastards. Shame that they revealed their position.
>You step into the hallway, eyes trained on the windows.
“That’s right, hear your prey as it walks into your trap. I’m just another target, nothing more.”
>You toss your sword into the shattered glass, the crunch signaling the attack.
>The griffon shrieks as it grasps at air.
“Gotcha.”
 
>You grab onto his arm and pull him inside, putting him on the defensive.
>He squawks in terror at his predicament, yelping for the help of his fellows.
“No one’s coming for you.”
>You paralyze him with a swipe of your hand and bring your foot crashing down upon his neck.
>He twitches weakly as you pull your foot away, his motions ceasing slowly.
>You pull your sword back to your hand and go on your way, another shriek piercing the air.
>Backup.
>You spin to your right, sword slicing open the oncoming griffon’s belly.
>He crumples to the floor as his kin pounces behind him.
>This is too easy.
>You throw the corpse straight into him, knocking him unconscious in turn.
>They’re green, inexperienced. They shouldn’t have neglected their training.
>Not like that would’ve helped them.
 
>You’re wasting time though. The sooner you put on some clothes the sooner you can reach Anonymous.
>You sprint along the northern end of the castle, scanning the doors for some kind of hint.
>Most of the doors are withered, wood chipping away, but one stands out.
>The door’s coated with a fresh layer of paint and seems to be in better overall condition than the others.
>The scent of perfume is almost pungent in its intensity, allowing you to piece that this is in fact Rarity’s chambers.
>Well, that and the giant sign above the door stating, ‘Rarity’s Bedchambers.’
>How could anyone miss this?
>You look around for anymore intruders. It’s safe enough.
>Twisting the handle you walk into her room.
 
“Rarity? You here?”
>Spools of cloth layer the floor, mannequins lining the walls.
>You look down to the floor, your prison clothes in shambles.
>Don’t worry Anon, she wouldn’t destroy the only set of clothes you had if she didn’t have another pair ready.
>At least you hope.
>You find the entirety of your closet here and there. Some are actually close to completion while others… May they know peace.
>They’re definitely rough drafts, and they still need some more work before you could actually wear them.
>It would only take a couple minutes for Rarity to come spruce them up for you, but she’s not here.
>You sit down on the bed which is a good deal fluffier than your own. She is a woman after all.
>All you wanted was a set of clothes that fit…
 
>Looks like you’re out of options here Anon ‘ol pal.
>You start picking up what you can out of the chaos, classifying what’s wearable and what’s unsalvageable.
>You look at yourself in the mirror, the clothes looking strange on you.
>But that’s when you see it, to the left of your reflection sits a small box, a piece you seem to have missed in your search.
>You move over to it, picking up the letter attached to it.
>”Dear Anon, if you’re reading this then slap yourself for going into a lady’s room without permission.”
 >Clever girl.
>”I only got one pair of clothes ready before I was called away for battle, such a shame. It should fit with a small amount of wiggle room, but I couldn’t seem to get that awful stain from those pants of yours. With love, Rarity.”
 
>You never could get that streak out.
>Opening the box you whisk out your old clothes, the texture of silk long forgotten by your hand.
>You practically jump back into your jeans and throw on your shirt, buttoning the front like days long past.
>Fits like a glove, you’ll have to thank Rarity for her handiwork, or would it be hoofdiwork?
>It doesn’t matter, what does, is that you’re back on track.
>You tie your sheathe onto your jeans and rest your sword within it.
>The tower should be nearby, once there you can finally put all this behind you.
>You clench your fist, a tinge of pain remaining in your wound.
“I will be whole again.”
 
>You waste no time in running through the halls towards the tower.
>The battle outside is in full swing, both forces devastating the other.
>How many cells are going to be filled after this is said and done?
>The warden’s going to have a lot of work on his hands.
>”Memory tells me that the entrance should be just down the hall,” a voice echoes down the hall.
>You duck to the floor, a small entourage of ponies walking across the hall ahead of you.
>“So I’m basically walking in his footsteps aren’t I?”
>It’s him, Anonymous’s brother. He’s definitely more intimidating than Anonymous is, but that’s just on appearance.
>You know that he’s far more powerful than he appears.
>”In a way, but this time he’s the one we’re after, the purple unicorn replies ahead of him.
>“Let’s get this over with. The troops below need a boost.”
>He doesn’t want this; you can sense it in his voice. He’s not some douche fighting for power.
 
>Shame he has to be in your way.
>You creep behind the group, concealing your presence.
>They enter the base of a staircase and being to ascend, the human taking the lead.
>You sprint silently to the door, listening as they continue to rise.
>You’ll have to wait for them to get further up before you follow, lest you give away your position.
>”Hey Anon!”
>Shit! Did they hear? No, thank Celestia for that.
>”What the hay are you doing? I thought we were meeting up in the throne room?”
>You turn to meet the mysterious voice, a minotaur walking over to you.
>”You ok Ano- Wait a minute…”
>So his name is Anon too? How interesting.
>The minotaur readies his flail, “You’re not him!”
“Good job Sherlock.”
 
>The minotaur comes in quick and light on his hooves, his flail swiping where your head used to be.
>You push him into the wall with your hand, your movements vastly superior to a minotaur, even one as trained as he.
>”Who are you?”
>You dodge his next swipe and plant your hand around his neck, to which he does in return.
>He squeezes your windpipe with his iron grip, but loosens when you smile back at him.
>”Impossible.”
>You head butt his snout and deliver a punch to his mail-protected belly.
“Just improbable.”
>You kick him back into the wall, the minotaur rebounding with impressive speed.
>You finally unsheathe your sword, focusing on the blade as it begins to glow.
>Let the heat of the sun grace my blade so that I may strike down my foes.
 
>You open your eyes and strike his weapon mid-strike, slicing through the tempered steel like butter.
>The ball comes crashing to the floor, the minotaur unwilling to surrender.
>He grabs your arm and kicks at your leg, missing obviously.
>Such a shame, he’s got skill.
>You twist your arm around until he’s locked in your armpit, and that’s when you begin.
>Your jabs strike hard against his armored form, bruising and fatiguing the strained minotaur.
>The more he struggles the quicker he finds himself cornered.
>Delivering one last series of jabs you pull back your molten blade and stab just below the chin.
>The effects are instantaneous.
>He falls into the corner, his strength failing to keep him on his hooves.
 
“You have my respect sir. It’s been an age since I was able to confront such an opponent.”
>His eyes glaze over as you retract the sword from his throat.
“I know how it feels to face the end before your time, but don’t fight it. Let go.”
>He attempts to rise, slumping further to the floor.
“There’s no shame in this, dying in battle. Honorable, if you’d call it that.”
>Your death was far less glamorous, lying on your bed, hand clenched to your chest.
“Let the shadows seep forward and take you home. Be free.”
>His body falls limp, his last breathe taken in this world.
“Find peace.”
>You swing open the door and start up the tower.
>Anonymous gave you a choice, a choice that you’ve made.
>And you chose life.