Late update is late. Cheap wifi is cheap, too. Also also, in ponyland, one does not simply "bleed out" or "receive bone-deep burns" or "get shot in the head for breaking a leg."

The second he saw the big, spinning lights from the six "ponies," Spy hit the cloak watch and circled around. He paused behind the ever-brightening group and quickly drew up a mask as his recently-acquired "Cloak and Dagger" recharged. Putting it over his ski mask, he uncloaked and snuck up behind the real Spike.

And punted him straight into the horizon.

Even from here, he could tell that the other reds were trying hard not to laugh, and he nearly lost it himself. Regaining composure, he waddled up behind the brightest of the ponies and glared at his teammates.

With the mask.

As "spike" contributed to the growing orb of friendship with a stare of hatred, Spy was configuring a sapper. After all, whatever this horse was wearing, it lit up, spun, and made wierd noises, just like a teleporter. The only difference being he couldn't hide near this one and wait for idiots to pop out.

Wait.

Eight?

And suddenly, Twilight's crown got dimmer and dimmer.

As her element lost its power to the sapper, the other five darkened as well, until there was nothing but a group of very confused horses with tiaras, one of which had a radio stuck to the back. Twilight reached back and pulled it off, trying to read the chinese at the bottom.

Luckily for her, Spike was more concerned about Rarity at the moment.

She screamed, and Twilight saw nothing but a pile of accessories, some powder, and what she now realized was the ninth human. "You're nothing but an ASS!" she heard him chuckle as the other ponies stood around, gaping mouths and wide eyes unable to shut.

Then the humans opened fire.

Pinkiepie had no idea what a bullet even was, but the zippy sparkles and the noises they made looked like loads of fun. She ran straight into Sascha's rage and giggles for about as long as her lungs lasted. soon, nothing but a jiggly pile of pink sugar remained.

The remaining four burst into screams, defecated, and ran for their lives.

Fluttershy cradled her newly constructed face and whimpered as the fire ceased. Footsteps grew and fell in volume as the mercenaries searched for them. I just wanted to play with my bunny, came a hopless thought in her terror laden brain.

She was in the top floor of a bakery, and she soon realized that she still had wings. Peeking outside, she waited for a good moment to fly away, and soon she was soaring away.

Not fast enough.

Scout's baseball hit her square in her right wing, and she began a perfect spiral towards the earth. What with the pain and adrenaline, it makes sense that she never saw the dot on her forehead.

With one loud crack, there was nothing but a hollowpoint sailing off into the distance and some glittery butterflies, plucked off her flank as a memento to her life.

Demoman knew horses as well as he knew the proper technique for decapitating a moving target with some fine Scottish Iron. A horse was good for three things: Pulling weight, carrying man, and being converted to paste. A horse that couldn't do one made it up with the others.

None of these rainbow wusses had been carrying anyone or anything last time h echecked.

Solution? Create superglue.

Soldier's motive may not have been as great (Horse meat actually proved to be delicious) but he was still going with the Scot, each firing a rocket or grenade into every building they passed. As he was about to put another explosion into a flower shop, a blue streak raced out, attempting to stun them by flying over their heads.

What happened then was reflex. Soldier blasted the ground at his feet and flew through the air towards a Rainbowdash who had little steering control. Just as they passed, Soldier's shovel met the pegasus' face. Just for a moment, she knew what it felt like to kiss the back of her skull.

Then a cascade of rainbows, soccer balls, and various other precipitation and sports paraphernalia fell to the ground.

Soldier, very confused as to how female ponies could puff into their hobbies whereas males became steak, kicked at the empty air in disappointment.

Naturally, Demo was inhabiting that space mere seconds later, and the two began their own war once again.

Dell was not so good at this. His job was to create kickers-of-ass from metal and make sure that they continued to do so in the field. Now, armed only with his trusty shotgun, Engie was finding out that there was a reason he never really got out much. He explored the first floor of some store or other and prayed silently that there would be a reason for him to pull the trigger soon.

His hopes shot up when he found a cellar door inside. He pried at it with muscles built well from a lifetime of throwing contraptions around. However, no progress was made. He started jumping up and down while spewing various words when the door broke in and he fell.

Right onto one of the ponies' backs.

Immediately Applejack put up a fight, bucking and running into walls at high speeds. She figured that her passenger would be beaten unconscious or fly off before she passwd out.

But Engie was, and is, a Texan.

Soon, applejack was struggling to stand up, unaware that Engie was actually leading her towards where his shotgun had fallen.

"Don't ever mess with my friends." He aimed it at the back of her head...

The horse disappeared, leaving a small sapling behind in a hole in the floorboards amidst some scattered shot.

"And don't ever touch my sentries," he finished, putting one more blast into the plant before leaving it in the cold, dry darkness.

Dear princess Celestia:

I don't know where my friends are, or if any of them are left. These things that came from the forest, they are killing us. We can't even use the elements against them. Please come save us, but be carefu-