It was past midnight now, yet the sun didn't need to show up to light up the city. All day, non-stop, the battle was raging through the streets of Canterlot. This was the bloodiest battle that there ever was and that there would ever be, for the fate of Equestria was hanging over this town. Here, the most basic and brutal of instincts a pony had were unleashed, as they had to kill the enemy, by any mean possible. It was ironic that,at a time when pony ingeniosity was at its peak, it would be used to end their pairs' lives instead to be used to make it better. But they had no choice. The Solar army, or the Sunbutts as their enemies liked to call them, were fighting for the thousand year kingdom, where everypony would live under prosperity and the shame of the last defeat would be washed away. The Lunars were fighting for their own homeland, one that they had claimed years ago by their own blood and sweat, one that they could not let Celestia get hold of again. Both sides knew what was at stake, and none was ready to give up that easily.

	In this huge mess there was the 501st Manticore heavy tank division. Using the biggest, most armored and best armed tanks available, their objective was to dominate the battlefield and break through the enemy defenses. Due to the sheer size of the battle and the need for heavy tanks everywhere on the battlefield, the 501st and other similar divisions had to be split up in several smaller groups only consisting of one or two tanks. Dispersed through Canterlot, they were not as powerful as if they sticked togheter, but would still be feared anyways.

	"T-34 at 10 o'clock, 30 meters! Turret rotation fifty-five degrees, load armor piercing!" screamed a tank commander to his crew.

	"Armor piercing up!"

	"Target in sight commander!"

	"Fire!"

	A massive deflagration shook the whole tank. The round left the cannon and hit right on the lower glacis of the green T-34. At first, nothing happened, but seconds later, the crew came running out, right before the ammo rack exploded, blowing up the turret a few meters high, before it hit the ground in a metallic noise.

	"Target dead commander," reported the gunner. 


	"Great," answered the commander. "Focus, ask Ursa Minor how they're doing on the other side."

	"Aknowledged commander," said the radio operator. "Ursa come in, Emil here, how are you holding the left flank?"

	"Ursa here, we are holding just fine Emil," came the crackled voice in the radio. "The tanks keep coming steadily but we keep killing 'em over."

	"Ursa Minor, Emil's commander here. I want you to advance up the plaza ahead and meet us there, I think we can force the Sunbutts to retreat."

	"Roger that Emil, our tracks are spinning."

	"Driver, get us to that crossing up front. Medium speed, watch out for ennemies. Gunner, watch out for any tanks or infantry ahead, same for you radio."

	"Roger that commander"

	The gears rumbled and the tank shook a little before moving forward. Crushing everything in its way, from discarded weapons to dead ponies, it moved forward on the road, striking fear in the heart of the Solar soldiers who were trying to hold off against it. A few daredevil Sunbutts tried to do something, but as soon as they got out of the buildings and on the road they got shredded apart by the heavy, steady fire of the two machine guns. 

	"They must be desperate to launch such suicide attacks commander," said the gunner in a grave voice. "I've seen the griffons fight but none of them had this level of determination. They're will is really made of iron, you gotta give them that."

	"They're fighting for all their hopes now Blitzkrieg. They know that if they fail there, all will fall, including their homeland. The same will happen to us if we don't win this. Look up, MG nest at 9 o'clock, turret rotation thirty degrees, load high explosive!"

	"High exposive up!"

	"Ready to fire commander!"

	"Fire!" 

	The two tanks made quick work of the resistance, and met up at the plaza, coming out from two streets on two edges. Meeting up near a fountain in the center, the tanks placed themselves in diamond position, their hulls facing slightly to the right. With almost no resistance left, the two commanders found it safe to open the hatches. They got out with their crew, near their tanks. Some fresh air was welcome after hours of fighting inside cramped and overheated metal shells.

	"So, how was it on your side Foxtrot?" asked Emil's commander.

	"Not that bad. A few T-34s, but nothing too hard for us. Want a smoke?" he asked, handing over a cigarette carton to his pair.

	"Much appreciated," said the commander, taking a cigarette with his mouth and lighting it. "Do we have news from the other groups?"

	"Yeah, we got some when we were on the move. We're actually the lucky ones here. Ursa Major had a mechanical failure, and they just got into Canterlot. Group five is holding up in the eastern part of the town, and they've been forced to retreat a few meters back. Group two got shot down by some anti tank squads, but the crew is still alive and they're heading back to the field base. I didn't receive much from the other groups, they're probably busy fighting."

	"I would be happy not to be there with them. I'm gonna go contact some combat engineers," said the commander, showing his tank. "See if they can set up some..."

	All of a sudden, a familiar whirling sound was heard. Their hearts skipping a beat, everypony turned to their right to see their worst nightmare: two dreaded IL-2s, the flying tanks of the battlefield. Unfortunately in the hand of their enemies, these attack planes could destroy their tanks in a flash, with their bombs and rockets. They were virtually impossible to kill too, being extremely armored, and striked fear in the heart of every tankpony.

	"COMBAT POSITIONS EVERYPONY, NOW!" screamed the two commanders. "SCRAM, WE GOT STURMOVIKS ATTACKING!"

	The tankponies were already rushing to their vehicles way before the orders were given. They all jumped inside and got their stuff running as fastly as possible. IF they stayed outside, they knew they were dead meat. Fortunately, they were all ready to fight when the planes unleashed their first cannon bursts.

	"Blitzkrieg, get the coax up now! Try to hit those IL-2s. Driver, full backward, try to get us into one of those buildings now! If we stay there any longer, we..."

	The IL-2s had circled back for a second strike, this time with rockets and bombs. The rockets hit violently and exploded against the turrets, shaking the whole tank heavily. The crew could hear the deafening thunder of the bombs exploding. Their heads were sent around like ragdolls, painfully hitting the metal sides.

	"Everyone's okay?" asked the commander, before receiving vague responses from his crew." Ursa, come in," said the commander after picking up his radio. "Ursa? Ursa?"

	"Ursa minor here," said a panicked voice. "I-it's the radio operator! The rockets killed all the crew in the turret, my driver is bleeding heavily now. I need to get out of here immediately!"

	"OK lad, I want you to get into your driver's seat, and..."

	"I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS COMMANDER!" The voice was now screaming in the radio, punctuated by heavy breathing. "ALMOST ALL MY CREW IS DEAD, I NEED TO GET OU.."

	A second wave of explosions shook the tank, this time much closer. The commander felt a warm liquid running on his right arm's fur. He turned around, and he saw his loader's body shred by shrapnel coming from the turret's inside. He tried to reach "Ursa" again with his radio, but he only heard a static noise. He urged his driver to back up faster, to get in the apparent security of the ruins. A last wave of bombs fell down, to the left of an abandonned tank.