Gunslinger in Equestria

A Clash of Ideals

Determined to prevent disaster, Percy and Twilight flew to the mountains with Rainbow Dash in tow. There, hidden deep within a misty valley, they found the source of the rumors: a factory belching smoke and steam into the sky. Guarding its gates were mechanical constructs—metal ponies powered by glowing blue cores.

“This... isn’t good,” Percy muttered, narrowing his eyes.

Twilight’s horn glowed faintly. “Who would build something like this?”

“Someone with my skills... but none of my regrets,” Percy whispered bitterly. Memories of Professor Anders and the Briarwoods flooded back, and for the first time in a long while, Percy felt the familiar itch in his fingers—the urge to load a weapon, to end this before it got worse.

A part of him wanted to storm the place, guns blazing. But this wasn’t Whitestone. He couldn’t handle things the way he used to. Ponyville had shown him a different way... but would it work here?

Rainbow Dash eyed him. "What's the plan, feathers? We smashing through, or what?"

Percy took a slow breath. "Not yet. We need to understand what we’re up against first."

As they sneaked into the factory, the truth became clear: the mastermind behind the operation was a pony named Iron Mask, a bitter inventor who believed Equestria needed to embrace technology—no matter the cost. He had discovered fragments of Percy’s designs through magical relics, reverse-engineering them into dangerous weapons.

Percy felt sick as he stared at rows of clockwork pistols, cannons, and strange mechanical creatures. This was everything he had sworn never to build again.

Iron Mask caught them in the middle of the factory floor. His voice was cold and calculating, muffled by the mask on his face. "I see you recognize my work, Mr. de Rolo."

Percy’s blood ran cold. "How do you know my name?"

Iron Mask chuckled. "I've studied your designs, your inventions... and your mistakes. Equestria is soft. Weak. It needs order. With your genius—and my vision—we could make a better world."

Percy’s jaw clenched. "I’ve heard that before. It didn’t end well."

"Then you lack the will to do what’s necessary," Iron Mask sneered.

Twilight stepped forward, her wings flaring. "There’s more to strength than control. Ponies thrive because of friendship—not fear."

Iron Mask scoffed. "Friendship? How quaint. You’ll see soon enough. When the world burns, only those with power will survive."

Percy’s hooves itched again. But this time, he forced himself to stand down. "I won’t let you repeat my mistakes."