//------------------------------//
// 1952 17/09/1017 
// Story: The Red Vengeance 
// by KaiserVanBeackmarck 
//------------------------------//

For the next hour, I tilted between conciousness and unconcious, seeing griffs rushing around me and occasionally injecting me with something. Eventually, somegriff waved smelling salts at me, and I bolted upright. I felt bad, still burned out, and now half my world was black as Maar’s embrace. I looked around and saw a medic, Rector Mikusian in her torn robes, and Ebonwing, yelling into a radio. I then remembered my job. I sat up and screamed, “CHARGES!” 
Ebonwing shook his head at me and said, “Sorry, yer in no fightin’ state now. I’m gonna lead the operation.”
I fell back in shock. Ebonwing? He was one of the oldest griffons alive! He was frail and delicate, and would probably die to any wound regardless. He couldn’t go like that! I stood up but Mikusian forced me back down. 

“Otto, listen,” She said, brushing debris off my jacket. “You are half blind. HALF BLIND, for Boreas’ sake. Should anypony approach you from the left, you will be easy pickings for them. I have a magic-prosthetic eye that we can install for you. Just be patient, Otto.” I shook my head and propped myself up. From my one good eye, I saw the remains of the ponies I had butchered earlier, so they hadn’t moved me. Swirls and splatters of blood marked the cobblestones, painting the road red. Once more, I fell back down to the cobbles. 

Mikusian then turned, gasped in fear and called, “ENEMY MAGES BEHIND-” She never finished her sentence as a blast of magic tore through her robes. I was no medic, but the amount of blood spewing from the wound told me it was a fatal blow. Erich turned, his rifle in claws but he too, was hit by an arc of flame. He fell, his jacket burning and beak contorted in agony. 

As he fell, he slid the charges to me and uttered, “Ach, deliver these… nngghh… to Wilhelm…” 

Those were his final words. A mage speared him from behind with her horn. “Stupid partisian boss. Without a commander they’ll fall short. Scatter and hide like rabbits.” They turned and galloped off. I assumed they didn’t attack me because they thought I was already dead. But they were in for a shock. Bracing myself, I attempted to get up again, using my minigun as support. “Hm?” One of the mages turned around to see a gore splattered griffon, eye bleeding and broken, leg marked with bullet slashes. It was all it took for them to break. They scattered and ran, screaming about a red vengeance. I smiled grimly, the schadenfreule returning. Packing the charges and Mikusian’s prosthetic eye into my pocket, I slowly began to hobble towards the Grover V Station. Every pony I saw ran in terror, probably scared by what looked like a dead griffon marching again, and whoever fought, I cut down where they stood. After what felt like an eternity of walking, Grover V Station loomed into view, lit orange by the setting sun. The entire outer platform was patrolled by griffons, some of whom ran to assist me into the centre of the station. Inside, griffons sat everywhere, on barrels, benches and even some on the lanterns swaying gently. An entire hall was filled with white covered griffons, presumably casualties of this first half of the battle alone. Another was full of wailing, mauled griffons, with medigriffs rushing to and from, some carrying racks of utensils or buckets of blood. 

Eventually I found Wilhelm Wiedergriff. He tackled me, yelling “OTTO! What happened to ya!?” 

I coughed and said, “Surprise mauling. Have we stabilised the key point control yet?” 
He nodded. I coughed again, collapsing. From under my jacket, all of the bombs slid out.

Wilhelm yelled, “GODS! WHAT HAPPENED TO EBONWING!”

I explained the sombre story of them patching me up, the surprise assault of the mages and the deaths of Mikusian and Ebonwing. 

“So we got no command now… That means we're toast.” Wilhelm muttered. I merely grunted. 

A surgeon ran over and said, “Listen, Otto, you need to be fixed up BADLY!” 

I pushed him away. “NO! I’m taking over Ebonwing’s mission! I vowed to dedicate my soul to Grover, and failed, so I will prove my name by killing the imposter! I DON’T NEED HELP!” 

The surgeon said, “Fine. At least let us give ya a prosthetic eye.”
I slid out the one Mikusian had handed me. And then the surgeon gave me a shot which made me collapse unconcious.