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“It was four years after I volunteered to lead Task Force 14, the war was in a stalemate up north. The Severneigha Front was holding strong in the face of the Legion and the Southern Badlands Front was all but abandoned… the Legion had moved a Warlock bonded with a lesser fragment of some forgotten God of War into the Badlands, the Dragons that inhabited the region took the brunt of her wrath. Needless to say, she brushed them aside like Soarin going for a Pie. The entire Army Group dedicated to that front was nothing more than a distraction to keep her from coming north and wiping out everything between the Badlands and Canterlot.”
“Its almost impossible to think of now, isn’t it? These days theres hardly a hundred ponies willing to work together anywhere in this blasted wasteland… well, at the rate that living God of War was tearing through the Greenback Regulars it got obvious that she’d win a war of attrition all on her own.”
. . .
“Yeah, she was alone. Warlocks aren’t exactly team players, especially War Aspects like her. The Zebra were smart enough to keep their forces back and wait for her to eventually burn herself out or ascend to join the whole of whatever fragment she contained. Now, someone up high in command got it in their head that the best way to deal with the short term issue of attrition was to pull some of the neutral nations into the fight by staging Zebra attacks on them… maybe it was intended to be a punishment for fence-sitting while Equestrians died in droves, maybe it was some PsyOps horseapples way of turning public opinion against Zebrekia. I never actually found out…”
”…what I did get though was a target. A fairly well protected target.”
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