A young pegasus filly, her coat orange and her unruly violet mane swept back by the wind, sped along without a care in the world. Lost in her own thoughts, she pushed her scooter harder, weaving between bumps and roots with practiced confidence. She was focused. Not on the road. Not on where she was going. But on the speed. The rush. The thrill.
So this is what flying must feel like, she thought with a wide grin, keeping her balance as she leaned into a sharp turn. The wind in her mane. The sound of her wheels skimming the dirt. It was perfect.
Until a deep growl shattered everything.
She looked up, her heart skipping a beat. Without realizing it, she had crossed into the edge of the Everfree Forest. Just a little. But just enough. Standing in front of her, halfway hidden in the shadows, was something she definitely shouldn't have run into. Something that shouldn't have been there. Much like her.
Panic set in. She gritted her teeth and tried to spin her scooter around, buzzing her tiny wings for extra lift and speed.
But a second growl came from behind. Another figure emerged from the underbrush.
Two Timberwolves.
Panic and fear overwhelmed her small heart—
And with them, the tears came.
Her hooves trembled on the scooter's grips.
She couldn't think.
She couldn't move.
The monster didn't wait.
Its prey had frozen.
Now was the time.
Attack!
But before the Timberwolf could pounce—
A violent gust of wind tore through the clearing.
CRACK!
The creature exploded into a spray of bark and splinters. The filly didn't even see what hit it. One moment there was a Timberwolf. The next… nothing.
Standing in front of her, low to the ground and growling, was a pegasus stallion. His wings half-spread, legs tense, teeth bared. He stared down the others. Because more were coming. Timberwolves were beginning to gather.
"Calm down, my little pony," the stallion said gently. "The ugly monsters won't hurt you. Just close your eyes and count to thirty… slowly."
He didn't turn around. But his voice—
It was so calm. So steady.
That for a moment, the filly believed there was nothing to fear.
Even with the monsters still behind him.
The same ones that had left her frozen in terror just seconds ago.
But something about him... it radiated safety.
Like she could trust him completely.
So she obeyed.
"I… 1… 2… 3… 4…"
When Flash heard the little filly start counting, his face slowly shifted. Gone was the calm, and in its place returned the frozen fury—
The cold, quiet anger he'd been holding back.
Timberwolves. In Ponyville. Hunting a filly.
He had so many things to say to them.
So many words. So much rage to release.
But not now.
Not while she was near.
He swallowed his fury and made a choice.
She wouldn't see what came next.
Foosh!
In an instant, Flash struck both Timberwolves at once. He didn't destroy them—not yet. He sent them flying back into the Everfree with a single powerful blow. But he didn't stop there.
He followed them.
Wings sharp, hooves ruthless, he drove them deeper into the forest, hitting them again and again, dragging them across the earth, crashing them against trees—
Ensuring they suffered.
Flash, once human, born of another existential plane, had long ago studied the monsters of this world out of sheer curiosity.
He had learned their strengths.
And now, he was turning that knowledge against them.
Turning their strengths into weaknesses.
Turning fear into punishment.
Timberwolves could regenerate—
As long as they weren't burned or destroyed with magic.
They felt pain when their branches snapped,
But not when they were shattered completely.
Because they always came back.
Like nothing had happened.
That's what Flash was preventing.
He didn't go for the kill.
He went for the structure.
With each blow, each kick, he made sure to break something vital.
A rib.
A leg.
A spinal segment.
The clavicle.
The thorax.
The jaw.
He never delivered a killing strike—
Only crippling damage.
And as the seconds passed, Flash's attacks grew faster.
More deliberate.
More intense.
So much so that his magic began to manifest visibly.
Each time a Timberwolf hit the ground,
It couldn't reform.
Because its broken pieces were burned—
Charred at the core by the sheer pressure of Flash's magic.
He felt it.
That unfamiliar power stirring under his skin.
And he welcomed it.
He ignored the sting in his hooves where shards of bark had slipped past the edges of his horseshoes.
He didn't stop.
The Timberwolves tried to run.
Too late.
Flash made sure they couldn't move again—
Snapping them down to the neck.
Paralyzing them.
Reducing them to twitching piles of splinters.
They tried to cry for mercy.
Their broken jaws clicked uselessly.
But Flash didn't care.
He kept going until their bodies were limp.
Then he dragged what was left deep into the semi-dark zones of the forest—
And left them there.
As a message.
To all the eyes watching from the shadows.
"Touch Ponyville, and I swear I'll come find you… and I'll kill you myself."
The words weren't shouted.
They were growled.
A primal, cold-blooded warning that sent a wave of unease through the creatures hidden in the brush.
Some flinched.
Others growled back.
That only made him angrier.
"This isn't some fucking bluff, you brain-dead bastards."
"This is the goddamn truth."
And to prove it—
Flash unleashed something he had once considered unnecessary.
Air blades.
A technique known only to military-trained pegasi—
And even then, only in a weakened, diluted form.
He didn't sharpen his feathers like they did.
He didn't need to.
His wings did the talking.
The wind responded to his will.
And his will wanted destruction.
The breeze around him twisted and howled,
Forming blades—
Invisible, focused slashes of compressed air.
When they struck, trees shattered.
Trunks split.
Branches rained down like broken spears.
Each blade's edge was as sharp as the wings that summoned it.
And Flash… was built for speed.
For the first time—
The forest creatures truly saw him.
Not as prey.
Not as a winged herbivore.
But as a monster.