As the light and the power faded from his form, and the euphoria from his newfound creation decreased, virulent pain began to explode throughout his body like hellfire. He stumbled, shaking, almost dropping the Corona Star as he fell to the ground in agony. 

Dizziness and nausea overwhelmed him and he began to choke, huge whooping coughs wracked his system, and a sudden expulsion of blood covered the ground in rich, thick crimson liquid. His children crowded round in concern, covering up his heaving form as more blood dripped from his muzzle. After a while, the spasms and the pain receeded, and he began to regain his sense of calm from the rapturous high he had been exposed to.

Shaking the Risen away he rose again unsteadily to his hooves, blood still trickling out of his mouth and nose as he tried to wipe it away, eyes momentarily filled with fear and confusion. Around him the bodies of the Inquisitor task force lay in various states of dismemberment or destruction, varying from the everyday sword wound, to disembowelment and incineration. 

Still there were a few usable subjects left.

Upon is signal, Warrior Drones began to pile up the corpses on their own backs, collecting them for tonight’s experimentation.

Whilst they had done so he had crossed the grass silently to stand before the lead inquisitor’s mangled body. Staring down into those glassy eyes, he could almost see the mutilated corpse of his brother after their ambush by Earthborn forces those many years ago, face a picture of confusion, horn carved off in a unclean strike by a soldier’s blade.

He spat to the side, a grim scowl crossing his face like a herald to his malice.

“Take her, I would have preferred she had not have had half her horn cleaved off, but there is not much we can do to fix that now. Let’s hope she serves me better in death than she did her former master in life.”

“Now, about you…” he turned to Scarlet, eyeing her up critically, “You must either be very stupid or very brave to do what you have done here. Given you assisted me in the disposal of this … filth, I’ll allow you to stay amidst the living, but for now I expect you to answer my questions and obey my orders without question, otherwise-“ he gestured to the numerous brutally maimed Inquisitor corpses “you can join these fools.”

“Once you have answered my questions to a suitable extent I will release you, but I will be watching you afterwards. Your life will depend on you keeping your mouth shut, or I will see to it that you’ll awake choking up on your blood the next time you go to sleep.” 

Tsan and Lambda stomped over, the ground shaking somewhat at their advance as the machine ponies stared down Scarlet impassively, blades raised and ready to act out a killing strike in less than a heartbeat. 

“Now, you’ll begin by telling me who you are, what organisation you work for and who you serve." He raised his muzzle slightly higher, sniffing as if he had encountered a putrid stench, "You reek of Alicorn magic.”

His head suddenly whipped towards the one standing Scholar and the still unconscious Dr Lens, his face shifting from a grim scowl to a barely restrained look of absolute rage and fury, “As for you!” he snarled, face a picture of hate, teeth grinding in disgust and purple eyes glowing in fury “You two are coming with me! For this I would have had you tortured and beheaded under different circumstances, sending your screaming faces packed in salt back to your employer as a message, but the manner of this… betrayal has left me with a minor sliver of doubt to your intent. You will follow me without question, you will speak only when spoken to, or I will make you wish you had been sent to Hell like these cretins, and then I'll hang your mutilated corpse from the tallest tree of this forest from a noose made out of your own intestines!” 

Waving a hoof, he signalled two of his Jaeger Guard to grab the still unconscious Dr Lens, draping her over one of their backs whilst the other tied knots to her limbs in order to fasten her properly to her carrier. 

“You life depends on what Dr Lens reveals to me Scholar, as I tear it from her screaming unconscious mind. Regardless…” Lines of Scalpels children surrounded the survivors of the massacre, hemming them in to walls made of living metal, whilst above The Spheres orbited, before being signalled forward to clear the way. With almost complete synchronicity, the lines of mechanical abominations straightened, before beginning the march into the night in a symphony of metal and whispered prayers to a mechanical god. 

“We are going home.”