>The dogs were herding you deeper into the mine, no doubt about it.
>The shafts that led directly out of the mine were swarming with dogs, popping off untrained, disorderly volleys in your general direction whenever any of you stepped out of cover.
>How could they have such an excellent grasp of tactics?
>Perhaps they were used to containing slave revolts and riots.
>Their plans would mean little if you were not concerned with protecting Gilda, Fluttershy and the maroon pony. Such an idiotic thing to do.
>They slowed you down, seeing as how bullets had a decidedly negative effect on their well-being.
>At every junction, you had to gather stones and gems to throw at the dogs, who would inevitably begin shooting at you, letting your (conscious) charges pass unharmed.
>Then you all flapped, fluttered, ran, ducked, weaved, and jumped as fast as your limbs would carry you.
>Which was not very fast, considering Gilda got nicked by a bullet in her wing, and Fluttershy managed to headbutt a support beam in her haste.
>Fluttershy had gotten panicky and Gilda soon after, the shock and pain of their wounds taking its toll.
>On top of it all, your brain realized that trying to bore its way out of your skull insulted its intelligence, and it promptly switched up to cracking your cranium apart with a thunder hammer.
>Every thump of your heart pumped pain.
>Rounding the next corner, storeroom doors lined the walls.
>Gilda nor Fluttershy object to hiding.
>They try and catch their breath in the darkness, lit only by the angry red light of the eye lenses of your helmet.
>"Why in the infinite Hells did you all follow me? Why?" You question, raising your voice as far as you dare.  
>"Trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with your idiot head!" Gilda shakily snaps. "You bolted without saying more than two words and I was just supposed to let you run off? Not happening."
>She gingerly inspects the nick on her wing. Painful, but not fatal.
>Fluttershy just looks down and away, her cold-blooded determination evaporated. An ugly lump begins its ascent on her forehead, a reminder of her carelessness.
>"Congratulations, then. We'll die together. You and your little plaything, together at the end. How utterly melodramatic." You sneer back.
>Your fist clenches with the next wave of your headache.
>That shuts her up for a minute.
>"You all need to get out of here. Take this pony to a hospital when you get to the surface." You harshly command as you hand the source of this trouble over.
>"Uh-uh," Gilda protests. "Leave her, and we can make it."
>"I am not arguing this. TAKE THE PONY."
>She eventually complies.
>"And just what are YOU going to do, 'Oh captain, my captain'?" She replies. Her voice wavers slightly, despite her facetious quote.
>Your only reply is a gentle glide of your gladius being pulled from its sheath, while your claws deploy, their noisy companion.
"No, Chosen..." Fluttershy whimpers.
>Impatient, gruff voices chatter outside the door.
>"Wait fifteen seconds, then  run."
>"I'm gonna fight with-" Gilda starts.
>You kick the door off its hinges and scatter the dogs on the other side.
>Arcs of blood and viscera paint the walls with every swipe of your blades.
>You catch a glimpse of the griffon and the two ponies as they bolt away. You parry an axe blade aimed for your throat a moment later.
>Good.
>A sledgehammer ker-bongs against your helm, courtesy of one of many that need to die.
>It sounded like someone rang a bell around your head.
>Your headache pounds all the harder.
>The only response you give is a quick grab to pull the dog closer, then a headbutt that caves in the mutt's skull, smearing blood and organic wreckage over your helm.
>A quick shove and the body has knocked over a swath of opponents, opening a path.
>You a quick jump and a few bodies crushed under your boots later, you're running just fast enough for them to follow you.
>Pull them down deeper into the mine. You can lose them there.
 
>Before long, the memories you had absorbed failed to remember the paths you were sprinting down.
>Rounding a final corner, you fell against the wall, pain pulsing in your temples.
>Though you managed to catch yourself on the far rougher hewn rock wall, you knew you weren't going anywhere.
>Turning around, you let yourself slide down the stone, eliciting scraping and sparks.
>With a thud, you land on the ground.
>You couldn't hear anything beyond the pounding in your ears.
>Looking up from your resting place, you notice not a single torch or light illuminated the passage.
>How far into the mountain had you ventured?
>It was time to leave.
>It took considerably more effort than you imagined to get on your feet, let alone moving.
>Which way did you come down?
>Left first. Of course you came from that way.
>Trudge trudge trudge.
>But, wait a second, why are you going down? Why are these strange pillars throughout the passages? There were fat, blunt stalagmites, but no stalactites for them to have formed from.
>That's not right.
>But it has to be. You remember...
>You don't remember the way you came from.
>Despite having a memory possessing nearly perfect recall, you could not say for sure which path you had come down.
>Your anger, barely contained by unrelenting pain and the frustration at Gilda's and Fluttershy's interference with your fools errand boiled over with this new failing of your mind.
>The nearest stalagmite cracked and crumbled, your fist cannoning into its surface again and again.
>A faint crackling at the edge of your hearing is drowned out under the cacophony of such a tantrum.
>Eventually, the ruins of several of the natural pillars lay scattered about.
>The faint crackling remained, nothing but white noise compared to your heavy breathing and pounding in your ears.
>Damnable hells. While you were in no danger of starving to death or dying of thirst for at least two weeks thanks to your armor's nutrient recycling system, this turn of events could still see you killed. Headaches like what you were experiencing didn't just start for no reason. Some warp-virus must have infected you. Or perhaps your father's "gift" was manifesting.
>No. The gift of foresight was present from the moment of geneseed implantation. No other "beneficiary" had manifested this late in life.
>Well, none to your knowledge, and you were no apothecary.
>Bah, musing through your shooting pain was getting you nowhere.
>You start down the passage you are certain you ran down, one hand on the shoddily-hewn wall to catch yourself should the pain cause you to stumble.
>More of those strange pillars.
>Did you not notice them when you first ran down here?
>Impossible.
>The forest of stone was growing thicker. You had decided to try antother passage when something caught your eye.
>Was that... clothing on that far pillar?
>Despite your throbbing head and thin patience, you had never seen a stone phallus wear clothing.
>...
>Of all the words to leap into your mind, phallus was what you thought of?
>Why? Just why?
>You approach the phal- PILLAR. Damnable gods, what was wrong with you?
>These were clothes, no doubt about it. A little brown vest, almost like what the diamond dogs were wearing...
>Upon closer inspection, the stalagmite wasn't a stalagmite at all.
>At least a score of dogs, frozen in stony fear, littered the passage.
>Some artist's forest of terror. Charming. While you could appreciate the inspiration, now was not the time to muse over such things.
>You became aware, however, of a sound almost like rain hitting the stone.
>Rain? Underground? Apparently you were going for more than just a jaunty stroll down higher-brain-functions-failing avenue than you had thought.
>It was a good thing one hand rested against the wall to your left, for a fresh tide of bludgeoning pressure assaulted your senses once more, driving you to your knees.
>The small handhold you grasped cracked and crunched as combat drugs, painkillers and honest adrenalin valiantly strove to stem the tide.
>The pitter-patter sound stopped, unnoticed by you.
> Desperate to relieve the pain, you pounded your head to the floor, once, twice and a third time, the granite eventually webbing out from the point of impact.
>FINALLY, the pain subsides. The pounding in your ears likewise goes back to tolerable levels.
>You're still kneeling on the ground, head in your own personal crater.
>Eventually,You pull yourself up by the wall, trying to remain steady.
>A hairline crack marred the left lens of your helm, while the other betrayed nothing but blackness.
>Narcotic-numbed fingers fumbled for the release catch. As soon as the seal broke, the crakling sound burgeoned into a fully realized annoyance.
>That turned out to be the least of your worries, however.
>An eight-legged mass of scales stared silently through slitted, yellow eyes.
>Though you had begun reacting before humans could draw a breath in fright, your arms refused to function. Your claws did not even leap from their housings, so potent was this paralysis.
>The creature moved towards you, the sickening rhythm of his octo-pedal gait eliciting the same rain-fall noise you cursed yourself for noticing just minutes before.
>Of all the ways to die, you were losing your life innumerable meters beneath a planet you had come to by accident, saving a xenos creature for no logical reason you could fathom.
>Truly, the gods were spiteful creatures...
>No!
>You were alive for a reason!
>You saved that pony because she did not deserve to enslaved by harsh taskmasters. She did not deserve to have her innocence and back broken by theses curs!
>Such love and simple purity these ponies showed should be treasured!
>The reptile's slavering maw gaped at you, ready to pull you apart.
>No No NO NO NO!
>The annoying crackling grew louder. Lightning arced around your armor, leaping in erratic jolts and zaps, but shed no light.
>The raw frustration, hatred and pain that had been building for the past hours erupted seemingly out of nowhere.
>The pain in your skull evaporated as you lunged forward, able to move once more.
>The explosion and blinding light that followed did things you did not find unusual, in retrospect.
>One instant, lighting burst from you fingertips, and the next you woke up in a hospital bed.