The engines erupt like twin neon-green volcanoes, spewing forth pony-sized magic death missiles that travel up and into the air in random directions and velocities, lazily arcing their way back down to the ground with only a few heat-seeking their way to the attacking mares. Rarity’s interception of a few reveals their explosive potential to be on par with a fucking mini-nuke, and the two realize with horror that your target was never them in the first place, but the entire forest.