For a Harmony Event the Reassociation process occurs effectively instantaneously, co-extant with all other parts of the Event. For a Proxy Event, or a perspective internal to a full Harmony Event, it can be said to occur across the late stages of the Charging sequence through the early parts of the Reconstruction action. Since there is no perspective external to a Harmony Event for comparison, I will use the Proxy Event’s timing as the factual one.

The Reassociation process begins with the strengthening of the bond between Bearer and Element. As the precise nature of this bond is still very much a mystery, I can only speculate on what forces are involved, but the results are quite clear. The Bearer and Element are metaphysically drawn closer together, to the point where they begin to merge. During a Proxy Event the merge is only partial, and I believe it is the existence of True Bearers that prevents a complete joining between Proxy and Element. For a Proxy Event, the Reassociation process could be said to stop here. For a Harmony Event, the process is far, far more involved.

While in a Proxy Event this merging is primarily metaphysical, in the case of a Harmony Event the unification is total and bi-directional. That is, the Element becomes the Bearer and the Bearer becomes the Element, forming a singular, indivisible unit. This is a transformation of incredible import, and an utter necessity for the survival of the Bearer through what comes next.

The Elements then collapse into each other. They do not merge, as they had with their Bearers, the result instead being an Elemental gestalt that is directed entirely by the Element of Magic and its Bearer. This collapse is then echoed by the energy field created during the Charging sequence.

That energy field is generated, and thus propagated, across all dimensions. Space, time, magic, all that was, all that is, all that could be, every possible alternate universe, every conceivable future, all of existence is encapsulated within it. When the Elements implode their energy field, all of that goes with it. The only thing that can survive this process is something that does not share anything of the nature of our universe. A truly outside force. Thus all matter, all energy, all magic, everything is reduced to the Elements of Harmony, and the ponies wielding them.

I have done this a dozen times over.

Yet this is still not the worst of my sins.

-From the seventh section of Harmony Theory by Twilight Sparkle

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Hate

Rainbow Dash shivered as she ducked under a floating crystal that looked like an oversized dandelion seed. The air in this part of the Storm was full of them, in addition to the earth being turned to alabaster and a misty air suffused with a glow that was nearly blinding, but only in their peripheral vision. Star Fall’s magic was protecting them, but they had been warned not to touch anything anyway, and Dash was not about to test that prohibition. Every floating crystal gave off a strange feeling of static and cold, an eerie combination that reminded her of winter storms she’d crafted occasionally. Those could get dangerous, and these crystals had the same feeling. Violence a hair from exploding.

She pulled her mind away from the myriad dangers of the Everstorm and looked ahead. The clear area that marked the Eye was becoming more obvious. Barely a dozen paces away. She’d spotted it a ways back, but she knew from experience that the others would only be seeing it about now.

“There it is,” she said, preempting anyone else as she jumped ahead of the group.

“Don’t rush, Dash,” Star Fall said. “I can only protect you if you stay close.”

Dash didn’t reply. She let them catch up to her, opting to hover in place rather than walk. Her wings weren’t likely to get much of a workout for the next while, so every chance that came along to use them, she took. Soon enough they were up next to the Eye of the Everstorm, looking out at the ruined city.

“It looks–” Applejack said, starting forward. Dash and Astrid both snapped legs out to stop her. Applejack stopped and looked down at the blocking limbs before giving them a sheepish smile and a tip of her hat. “Sorry. Forgot about the whole ‘enough magic to drive you mad’ thing.”

“Hopefully, it won’t be a problem,” Star Fall said, pulling out the prepared spell-sheet from her bags. “Remember, the farther you get from me, the more you’ll be affected by the Eye.” She activated the spell with a muttered incantation, the sheet floating into the air before her and crawling with crimson symbols. Dash immediately felt a deep lethargy descend on her, her wings feeling like lead weights and her muscles complaining about being used so soon after fighting an army of ghouls. Applejack, who hadn’t been expecting it, staggered and nearly fell to her knees.

“Dang, Star, that’s some spell you’ve got there,” she commented as she forced herself back upright.

They stepped into the Eye, and suddenly everything was better. Dash felt energy sing through her. It was a high, like pulling off the most complicated and dangerous trick she knew flawlessly for a crowd of awestruck Wonderbolts. She felt like she could run a dozen races back to back and win every one.

A look to Applejack told her that the earth pony was experiencing the same thing, walking tall with an unmistakable bounce in her step. “I feel like I could buck the whole south fields bare and still have enough left for an all-night hootenanny,” she said.

“Yeah? Well I feel like someone’s trying to slowly bore their way into my skull,” Astrid growled back. “Which, admittedly, is a huge improvement over the jackhammer to my eye-sockets of last time. Nice work, Fall.”

“Great,” Star Fall grumbled, clearly feeling her own pain. “Let’s stay focused. We’ve got a ways to go yet.”

They walked through the broken city in sullen silence. Dash had to keep reminding herself not to take off and fly, but it was a manageable desire. She was more interested in getting to the library. She wanted to make that connection with her old home. To see Twilight’s statue and know that it was possible that she’d even see her friend again.

Soon enough she caught sight of the tree. “There it is!” she cried out, her wings fluttering. “Come on, guys!”

She resisted the urge to snap back, instead practically dancing on the tips of her hooves with anticipation as they slowly approached the library.

It looked perfect, as if she hadn’t been away for a thousand years. She could almost believe the purple statue was her friend, standing out front and looking to the skies. The urge to rush forward almost overwhelmed her, but something caught her eye while she was examining the library-tree, and it made her stop dead in her tracks, all her enthusiasm draining out of her.

All of them stopped, and there was a disturbing flicker in Star Fall’s magic. “What?” Astrid hissed. “Are you sure?”

As if cued by her words the door of the library opened, slowly swinging into the darkness of the interior. That darkness seemed to writhe and coil like tendrils of smoke as a figure emerged from the shadows one slow, purposeful step at a time. Her golden coat trailing streamers of flickering ash, Twinkle Shine stopped just outside the library’s entrance. She held her head low, her white mane falling over her eyes so that the purple stripe that ran through it hung over her left eye while her right stared through the part created by her horn.

Dash didn’t take her eyes of the deceptive Professor, but she heard Star Fall’s choked gasp and felt the ear-popping change in pressure as her dampening spell wavered.

Star Fall made a small, desperate sound. Then she took a deep breath and her magic strengthened its hold. “I’m alright,” she said, though the lie was easy to see through.

Twinkle Shine stood quietly for a long moment before speaking. “You made it out of the Kingdom.” She nodded in slow satisfaction. “I knew you’d find a way. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“How did y’all know we’d come here?” Applejack asked. There wasn’t much animosity in her voice, merely a wary caution. Dash supposed that was expected, Applejack hadn’t really known the Professor, had barely even met her. The betrayal she felt was on behalf of a friend, not personal like it was for the rest of them. Dash knew her own anger would be nothing compared to what Star Fall was feeling.

Twinkle Shine twitched. Then tilted her head so that the part in her mane fell to the other eye, which blazed white and gold. “Of Course You Would Come,” the Nightmare said, her whispered voice carrying like a primal scream across the silent distance. Tongues of Ashfire danced along her horn with every word, and the shadows inside the library pulsed with her breath. “The Student Would Not Let An Opportunity So Great Pass By.”

“Umbra,” Star Fall said, and there was terror in her shaking voice. Dash glanced back and saw Astrid drape a protective wing over her charge while staring with cold fury at the Nightmare. Applejack simply looked determined, her muscles flexing as she prepared to act. “Or are you the Professor?” Star Fall’s voice gained strength as she spat the words out, anger beginning to outweigh fear. “I can’t believe she was just a pawn for you all this time, another ash-pony puppet. No, she was too different. She had compassion, she had her own emotions, and faults, and joy. I don’t see you having any of those things, Umbra. She had a life! All you are is death.”

“You Are Ignorant Of Many Things, Fallen Star.” The response came in a snarl that rolled across them like thunder. “I Am The Destroyer! I Am Nations Brought Low And Cities Made Ruin. I Am The Final Power, The Ultimate Darkness. I Am The Doom Of Ponykind, And Through Me All Things Will Become Ash. I Am Nightmare Umbra!”

Then the Nightmare tilted her head, shifting the part back to reveal the dark blue eye of Star Fall’s mentor. “I am Professor Twinkle Shine. Chief advisor to King Golden Scepter the Second of the Solar Kingdom. I’m not Umbra’s puppet. I have my own emotions and my own thoughts. But life? There is so much more to who and what I am than you have imagined. I am Twinkle Shine, but this is not my only name. Not my only life. I have been many, many ponies over the centuries.” Her entire body shifted, changing color, shape and occasionally even species with each name she said, becoming a new pony with each iteration. “Velvet Spring, Sunset Glow, Harsh Justice, Whisper Secret, Aura Wind. So many others.” Her body returned to that of the Professor. “Some you know, some you won’t.”

“Those names,” Star Fall said, sounding like someone had kicked her in the gut. “Sunset Glow, Aura Wind, they were Advisors to the Crown. Velvet Spring practically hoof-picked the first Royal Council! You… you’ve been manipulating the Kingdom since the beginning!”

“Even before that,” the Professor said. “I was the one who gave the Royals the spells to save the Griffins from extinction. I led them to the wealth that attracted skilled soldiers to their cause. I stepped in when they started to make foolish decisions and ensured that their line would not fall victim to rebellion or uprising. I even killed Overspear myself, when his madness threatened everything I had built.”

“And the Republics?” Star Fall demanded. “If I dug into their history, will I find you at the center of everything there too?”

“Sometimes,” Twinkle Shine replied. “Democracies are harder to work with. However, they’ve always been more driven by economics than anything else, so for the most part I just tried to put money in the right hooves.”

“Why?” The question was a quiet plea, Star Fall sounded almost sick as she said it. “Why any of this? Why create these nations, nurture them, then set them at each others throats? Is it all for Umbra? Were you just giving her something to feed on when she was strong enough? Who are you in all of this?”

Twinkle Shine sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand, Star Fall, but I want you to. There is a plan. A purpose, one that both myself and Umbra were created for. That purpose goes beyond building up the Kingdom and the Republics, and beyond tearing them down again, if I must. What I do, I do for Ponykind.”

“I don’t know if I can even start to believe you,” Star Fall said, shaking her head.

“You are my student,” Twinkle Shine said. “I care for you, I love you, like a daughter. No other pony in the last eight hundred years has come close to the place in my heart you have. Please, if you believe nothing else I say, believe that. I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted you to be happy and safe. But I can see you suffering because of me, and I would do anything to make it not so.”

“Would you stop?” Star Fall asked. “Stop manipulating the world? Stop threatening it with Umbra? Would you stop killing so many people just for this… purpose?”

“Then you wouldn’t really do anything, now would you?” Star Fall snarled. “I guess you don’t care for me as much as you think.”

“If I could,” Twinkle Shine said, then sighed. “But you were right. I have compassion, Umbra does not. Even if we could be separated, you have no idea of the devastation she would wreak without me.” She brought her head up, and her flesh began to ripple as if a thousand snaking worms were crawling just under her coat. “I do care, my little Fallen Star. And because I care, I’m giving you this warning: do not interfere. Find someplace to hide, far from the Republics and the Kingdom. Far from what is coming. Don’t try to stop us.”

“I know,” the Professor said, smiling as her body bulged and her skin began to split. “I raised you to be strong.” There was a sickening rip and a pair of ashen wings flared out from her back. “And you have grown up so–” her words cut off as her head exploded, bits of skull and bloody flesh igniting with black Ashfire as the face of the Nightmare emerged. Umbra reared up, tendrils of dark magic cleaning away the last remnants of Twinkle Shine, and when she brought her hooves down she stood at her full height, wreathed in an aura of ashes and hate.

Dash tensed, ready to move at the slightest sign that they needed to run. Star Fall, however, seemed to calm as the Destroyer obliterated the body of her former mentor, her eyes hardening with a determined gaze. “You wouldn’t have waited for me in the Eye of the Everstorm just to give me that message. Why are you here, Umbra?”

“No.” She stepped forward with the slow inevitability of a glacier, coming up next to Twilight’s statue. “I Do Not Know How You Have Returned, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, But It Is Clear That Your Presence Is A Threat To My Purpose. However, Even With Three Of You, The Threat Is Minor. None Of You Have The Power To Stop Me, Alone Or Together. Your Only Hope Would Be To Revive Twilight Sparkle And Wield The Elements.”

“So That, I Cannot Allow.” The Destroyer raised a dark hoof, aiming for the statue.

“No!” Rainbow Dash screamed, her wings a blur as she shot forward. She left the protection of Star Fall’s spell in an instant, and the full weight of the Everstorm’s magic burned into her. It didn’t stop her. Air roared under torturous pressure as she burst past the sound barrier, the thin protective shield of her magic narrowing to a sharp point as she neared rainboom speeds in a split second. She closed the distance between heartbeats, faster than an eyeblink.

Black magic enveloped her, locking her in Umbra’s absolute grip and bringing her to an instantaneous and agonizing halt. She hung in the air, her own sonic boom catching up to her, tossing her rainbow mane wildly and nearly bursting her eardrums. All she could do was stare in disbelief as the Nightmare sneered in triumph.

It shattered under Umbra’s attack, the perfectly sculpted body exploding into shards of lavender stone and amethyst. The cracked and crumbling remains of Twilight’s head rolled to the ground, the Element of Magic all that held it together. Umbra dropped Dash next to the head, then unceremoniously stomped on it, crushing the crown into an unrecognizable lump and the magenta star gem into powder.

“Your Efforts Are Pointless,” Umbra hissed, leaning down so that Dash could smell the ashes on her breath. “Your Power Is Nothing Next To Mine! I–”

“Talk too much.” Applejack’s hooves slammed into Umbra’s side in a textbook-perfect double-hoofed buck. The Nightmare was lifted from the ground and flung back through the door of the library to crash inside. “Come on, sugarcube, ain’t nothin’ left for us here.”

“No! She just…” Dash trailed off as she turned to see Astrid and Star Fall huddled together on the ground a dozen paces from where they had been standing before. Both were bleeding from their nose and ears, and Astrid was eyeing Dash murderously with one bloodshot eye. Star Fall’s dampening spell was flashing and spitting sparks of crimson energy, the paper torn and fluttering. Star Fall herself looked like she was only barely conscious. “Star! I didn’t–”

“Save it!” Astrid screeched. “We gotta get out of here. Now, superpony!”

“We need to carry them, and together, so don’t go rushin’ ahead,” Applejack said, helping Dash to her hooves.

“You Have Not Escaped,” Umbra’s voice rumbled from all around them. “Heed Your Mentor’s Words, Fallen Star, And Hide While You Can. For In The End, There Will Be Nowhere To Run To.”

“Then we’ll just have to stop you before that!” Dash screamed back at her. She and Applejack galloped over to where Astrid and Star Fall were lying. Applejack took the heavier Griffin while Dash hoisted Star Fall up, using her wings to steady the dazed pegasus. Then, keeping a carefully matched pace, they raced out of Ponyville and the Everstorm’s Eye, feeling the furious gaze of the Destroyer follow them the entire way.

They were expecting trouble, and that anticipation always made the waiting harder. Even worse, they had no idea if or when Cash would make his move. Hard Boiled could feel the tension among the police rise throughout the day as they waited for something, anything to happen. He assured himself that it would, and soon. The equipment to get the statue moved was nearly there, another hour at most. Then it would be shipped to protected storage and basically disappear as it was shuffled between Republics by people who would be incapable of remembering it. Cash would never get another chance to get what he wanted. So it was either attack while the statue was at the mansion or wait until it was in transit, and HB’s money was on the mansion.

A long conversation with Spike had filled him in on the Elements, and all the outlandish things they were supposed to be capable of. Testing what the Dragon had told him about the nature of the statues and the secure way the necklaces were attached to them had been fairly easy. Even taking a jackhammer to the statue had proved pointless, though watching Senator Birchfield nearly faint had made it somewhat worth the effort. Getting other people to recognize the statue for what it was proved more difficult. Simply leading them to touch it as he had with Traduce yielded nothing but confusion. He figured that it was Traduce’s psychic connection to him that allowed him to shake the spell for her.

Which left the question of how Birchfield–and Cash, presumably–could see it just fine.

“The spell has a key,” Spike had said when HB asked. “A book. Harmony Theory. Contact with the book allows you to unlock the memories of the statues. Somehow, Cash has a copy of the book, and I guess the Senator must have seen it as well.”

Questioning the Senator about when he might have seen such a book only got him the ‘national security’ brushoff. HB suspected that refusal was as much Birchfield still being sore over not being allowed immediate access to Spike as it was the honest truth. Traduce and Calumn weren’t able to tell him what this secret was either. Whatever had happened, they weren’t privy to it.

The frustration with not knowing all the facts only made his mood more sour as the day progressed. That wasn’t even counting the whole new raft of questions Spike and Calumn’s explanations of the statues and their Elements brought up, nor the headaches and confusion that resulted from the unbelievable answers to those questions. So, as the sun sank below the buildings and the city lights began their nightly glare, he was left staring out a window in one of the mansion’s many rooms, feeling the weight of too many weeks with too little sleep drag at his eyelids.

He stared through the blinds at the preparations they had made. Police cars were parked lengthwise across the streets, lights spinning. They formed a flashing barricade against anything that sought to get anywhere near Birchfield’s mansion. Somehow their solid presence was not a comfort. In fact, they seemed to be inviting trouble. The cops standing around them certainly seemed to think so, checking their weapons over and over again and nervously scanning the streets beyond their makeshift walls. He rubbed a hoof over his short mane, eyes narrowed as they sought out the dark corners of the city streets. His magic was telling him that something wasn’t right, but it had too little information to pick it out for him yet. He’d just have to keep looking.

“Sir?” Barry’s voice behind him made HB jump. He should have noticed the earth pony coming, but he was clearly far more tired than he was willing to admit to himself. “You okay?”

“Fine, Barry,” HB replied, turning away from the window. “What do you have for me?”

“It’s quiet,” Barry said. “The uniforms are wondering if this was worth standing around all day for.”

HB snorted. “Stakeout blues. It’s all sitting around watching nothing while bored off your ass until something happens. Then sometimes you wish it hadn’t.”

Barry nodded in understanding. For all his glaring faults, he had actually earned his chops in the SIU. “You think we’ll see any action tonight?”

“I’m hoping we won’t,” HB said, then sighed. “But I know that’s bullshit. He’s coming. The only question is if we’re ready for him.”

“You’ve got close to forty uniforms, nine detectives, six sniper teams, two squads of SWAT guys set up and ready to go, and a fucking Dragon. You think he’s got anything that can take on all of that?”

“I think–” HB’s horn gave a warning pulse, and he turned to look out the window. “Barry, get the uniforms on alert.”

Hard Boiled narrowed his eyes, staring into the shadows that lurked outside of the pools of streetlight. He saw a pony, a stallion, standing in an alley and staring in the mansion’s direction. It wouldn’t have stuck out to him, except that the pony was strapped with a long-barrelled automatic rifle and wearing what looked disturbingly like military gear. The pony gestured, and the shadows flickered. Suddenly HB’s magic was telling him that there were a dozen more ponies in that alley.

To his credit, Barry reacted with a professional speed and calm. He pulled out his police radio, hitting the call button and snapping off clear, precise words. “All officers on alert! Suspects have been sighted.”

“Be advised: suspects are armed and should be considered extremely dangerous. Deadly force has been authorized.” He looked up from the radio. “Any idea on numbers?”

HB shook his head, moving to the door. “At least ten that I see. Probably more hidden all over the place.” He was out the door and speeding up as Barry relayed that information through the radio. He came to the foyer at a near gallop. “Heads up, people!” he shouted. “We’ve got company.”

The reaction was immediate. Prayers were whispered, weapons were drawn, and every eye turned his way. He made a quick judgement on what to do with them. Calumn’s crew were bunched together, and he figured they should stay that way so they didn’t get in the way of the police when the shooting started. They were too valuable to leave inside, though, so he would put them where a Dragon would do the most good.

“Strongheart! I need you and your people front and center, right across the intersection. You, you and you.” He pointed at three officers, including Traduce in their number. “Stay here and protect the Senator. Get him to the cellar if they start breaching our lines. The rest of you, with me!” It would have been nice to leave some officers behind to guard the statue, but none of them could remember that it was there for more than a minute. He’d just have to hope Traduce could handle it.

Leaving the foyer behind, he rushed out into the street. Weapons were being brought to bear, cover being taken behind the police cars barricading the roads. A quick glance around showed the SWAT snipers getting ready to pick off anyone who looked like a leader. Captain Rivers trotted up to meet him as he pulled his revolver out and checked the chambers.

HB nodded. “Spotted a group of them, using the alleys for cover. How’s our air support?” The Captain pointed up, and HB saw a trio of Flight Talent police circle by. “You ready for this, Ger?”

He snorted. “Just ‘cause I push pencils nowadays doesn’t mean I don’t remember how to handle myself in a fight, HB.”

There was a moment of tense silence as they waited for Cash to make his move. Then there was a roar that sounded like a dozen crackling booms of thunder overtop each other, and all the lights went out, leaving only the flashing reds and blues of the cop cars to light the streets.

“What the hell?” the Captain growled. He pulled out his radio. “Captain Rivers to Headquarters! What just happened?” All he got back was the empty hiss of static. “Headquarters, respond!” Nothing. “Anyone on this channel, respond, I need eyes on whatever just took out the power!”

There was a moment of empty noise from the radio before it clicked and squealed as someone began to respond. The Captain relaxed at that, but something felt wrong to HB’s magic. “Hello? Hello, Captain Rivers, was it?” The voice that came from the radio was not one HB recognized. It sounded jovial, as if whoever was speaking was on the edge of a fit of giggles. There was something off about that voice, something his magic was picking up even through the usual radio distortion. It sounded wrong, in a way he couldn’t define. “I don’t think you’ll be getting anything out of Headquarters. I’m sure they’re in pieces knowing they missed your call.” There was a laugh. It was wild, and it squealed through the radio in a way that made HB and the Captain flinch. “If Lieutenant Hard Boiled is around, tell him we need to have a talk. Tell him it’ll probably include the words ‘loyalty’, ‘betrayal’, and the phrase ‘whatever you want most in the world served on a soda cracker’. Anyway, I don’t figure you as the surrendering sort, and I can’t have you calling for help, so I’ve taken over your airwaves in order to provide a soundtrack to tonight’s entertainment. DJ, if you please!”

The sounds of guitar and drums began streaming from the radio. The Captain cursed and began changing the frequency, but the same music played on every channel. “Damn it!” the Captain snarled, throwing the radio away. “How the hell did he manage this?”

HB remembered what Calumn had said about Cash, about how utterly amoral he seemed, and about the Elements and what they could do to a person. “We underestimated him.” He looked over the barricades and saw the shapes slipping out of the alleys, moving in coordinated teams that kept cover from the snipers as they rushed the police lines. “Here they come!”

Rarity was having trouble keeping up her nonchalant appearance. She’d been dreading this since deciding to come south with Spike to confront the terrible pony named Max Cash. She knew Spike was out for blood, and she didn’t know exactly how to handle that. As a baby Dragon, he’d never expressed anger to the depths he did now when Cash’s name and deeds came up. While she had no doubt he meant it when he said he wanted to kill the criminal unicorn, she couldn’t reconcile that with the fun-loving little wyrmling she had once known and could still see in the mass of scales and muscle she travelled with now.

Worse than Spike’s murderous intentions, though, were the similar expectations these ponies seemed to have of her. She knew how to fight–martial arts are often excellent exercise and a fit mare is a beautiful mare–but she was no warrior, and certainly not a killer. Yet the looks that she’d gotten back at the RIA building had been awestruck, frightened. Not by her high-class attitude or impeccable fashion sense, but by the simple, brutish power of her magic.

She couldn’t live up to those expectations, she knew. Still, she was determined to do her part, and possibly save as many people as she could while she was at it. She just hoped she could save Spike from himself.

The lights going out set everyone’s hearts pounding, and the smell of fear from everyone around her stung her nose. Only the ones she had come through the Storm with seemed calm. Calumn was watching the road with a studied cool. Trail Blazer was grinning like an idiot and whispering something to Melody, who was ignoring him in favor of mimicking Calumn. Melody actually appeared more calm than she had in a quiet, locked room. She was barely checking that her doll was in its place more than once a minute, and Rarity did not know if that boded well for her or not.

Spike looked… eager. His claws flexed as they waited, leaving little trenches in the asphalt. She did not like that look on him.

“What’s going on?” she asked, indicating the way the cops were all chattering with each other. She had been learning Lunar piece by piece as they had come south, and then while waiting for the RIA to decide what to do with them, but she wasn’t quite up to deciphering the jargon-laden police chatter.

“He’s here,” Spike replied, his voice a soft growl. “Stay down. If you’re as tough as Dash is, I don’t think a bullet can kill you, even if they get a headshot, but they can still hurt you a lot.”

“I’m hardly up to Rainbow Dash’s standards in the physical punishment department,” Rarity said, drawing the hood of her hastily-made but still well-fitted cloak up over her head. “I’ll not be taking any chances.”

“Don’t…” he trailed off, his expression pained. “It’s gonna get ugly. Don’t hate me, okay?”

“Never,” she vowed, quietly unsure that she would be able to keep to that promise.

A shout went out, and then the night was swarming with equine figures. Light and sound burst from all around her, gun fire and police lights strobing the night between red, blue and white. Bullets fell like rain on the police car barricade, ricochets and debris spraying the air. Impacts thudded against her cloak, each one feeling like Applejack had given her a kick. She dove to the ground to get out of the line of fire, laying her ears flat against the sound. Confusion ruled, clarity coming in flashing tableaus, everything else happening too fast for her to get a grip on the big picture.

She saw a dark-clad pony try to jump over the barricade, only to be brought down by Melody. She lost sight of them for a moment, but when a flash revealed them again, she saw that the pegasus mare was tearing into the attacker with her teeth, glistening strands of torn muscle and flesh already dangling from her mouth.

She saw Calumn with his twisted horn wreathed in green fire, staring into the eyes of one of the attacking ponies. The soldier stumbled once, then slumped to the ground, asleep.

She saw a police stallion falling backwards, eyes and mouth wide with surprise while blood spurted from a neat little hole in his chest.

She saw Spike shove his claws into a mare, then literally tear her in two. She felt the blood of that pony rain down around her, but was spared the sight of the mare’s remains being flung back into the attacking soldiers.

She saw Trail Blazer reach out to trip an attacker, only to have his attempt fail, a hoof slamming into his face the reward for his efforts.

She felt more than heard it as Spike roared loud enough to rattle the windows of every nearby building, then lit the night up with a plume of emerald fire that caught at least three unlucky ponies in its deadly arc.

She saw more police ponies fall. Some shot, others stabbed by attackers who were coming in a near-suicidal rush.

Spike was bleeding, a half dozen bullets having found him. His scales had blunted their impact, but not enough to prevent injury entirely. It only seemed to enrage him further, and his claws found another attacker, doing terrible wounds to their body.

“No,” she said, unable to hear her own voice over the cacophony. Tears stung at her eyes, and she blinked them away. She forced her body to uncurl, getting her hooves under her and pushing herself upright. “No! Stop! Enough of this!” Her horn burst to incandescent life, the steady blue glow reaching out to the very edge of her range. “I said stop!” Ponies paused to look at her, and she took the opportunity presented. She wasn’t Twilight, she couldn’t teleport the combatants to opposite sides of the city, couldn’t force them to put down their weapons. She was a seamstress, and her magic was most practiced when working with clothing. Which, fortunately for her, they were all wearing.

She couldn’t separate friend from foe, so she took hold of every piece of apparel she could, stretching her power to its utmost limits. Her horn burst into greater brilliance, layers of aura expanding around it, creeping down her body until she was a living, azure bonfire. She could feel every jacket, belt, boot and strap as if she were holding them in her hooves, more than she had ever tried manipulating at once before. There was far more material than when she had demonstrated her power with the RIA soldiers, and if she tried to do the same here it would overwhelm her. What she wanted didn’t require that level of fine manipulation, though, and she had faith this wouldn’t be too much for her.

With a cry of anger and monumental effort, she tightened her grip. Every clothed pony–civilian, police or attacker–for a mile in every direction slammed into the ground as one. The blue glow of her magic covered their clothing, holding them there as securely as if they had been nailed in place. The trapped ponies struggled, but even the Strength Talents among them found that they couldn’t do more than push ineffectually at their bindings. Pegasi fell out of the air, and she had enough presence of mind to slow their fall so that they weren’t more than bruised upon impact.

Rarity stood tall, and they looked on her like they were watching the rise of a new goddess.

Spike looked around them, his eyes wide and blinking in the glare of her magic. “Wow, Rarity,” he said, scratching at his head. “You’re really pulling out the stops.”

“Just doing my part, darling,” she said, the intended bright tone of her words ruined by being forced through gritted teeth. Maintaining this level of magic was straining her concentration and energy. She took a deep breath and called up her reserves of will. She would hold everyone in place as long as it was necessary. Which, come to think of it, she had no idea how long that would be. “Spike, dear? What… what do we do now?”

“We find Cash, and we end this,” Calumn said. Unclothed, he and Trail Blazer were both free to move without interference. He hopped over the barricading car and bent down to look one of the attacking ponies in the eye. Green fire flared in both of their eyes and the soldier relaxed, face going slack. “Where is Max Cash?” Calumn asked, clearly enough that Rarity understood it.

The soldier’s mouth worked silently for a moment, then his entire body began twitching. Rarity watched in horror as he began babbling nonsense that had even Calumn frowning in confusion. Then the soldier stopped. “He has my loyalty!” he shouted. Then he stuck his tongue out between his teeth and bit it off in three quick chomps.

Calumn recoiled, horror clear in his eyes. He turned in place, looking at the other soldiers held down around him. “He has my loyalty!” another screamed as Calumn’s eyes fell on him, the cry was taken up by others, and it went the same way. They bit their tongues off, staring mad defiance at the Changeling.

Calumn watched all of this with a helpless, stricken look on his face. Rarity looked away, and found herself staring at Trail Blazer, who paused in trying to help Melody out of her trapped saddlebags to look back at her. “I can find him,” Blaze said, giving her a bloody smile. “That’s my Talent.”

“Good,” Spike said, though underneath the brusque growl Rarity could hear worried uncertainty. The actions of the soldiers were as unnerving to him as they were to everyone else. “Where is he, Blaze?”

Trail Blazer stood for a moment, eyes closed and swaying. Rarity wanted to tell him to hurry it up, that she couldn’t keep this up forever, but she knew that sometimes a pony had to focus to use their Talent. With how scatterbrained Blaze normally was, any distraction right now could be disastrous. A moment later, Blaze frowned. “Huh,” he said. “That’s probably not good.”

“What is it?” Calumn asked, coming back over the barricade. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I guess if we want to know where Cash is, all we gotta do is stand here,” Blaze said.

“Well, I’m thinking of where to go to find Cash, and the feeling I’m getting from my Talent says ‘wait here a minute’,” Blaze said with a shrug.

Calumn’s eyes went wide. “Spike! Take out as many soldiers as you can, right now!”

“Wait, no!” Rarity gasped, but it was too late. Spike’s fire lit up the night again, flowing over the helpless ponies Rarity herself was preventing from protecting themselves. Dozens burned, screaming. “Oh, Spike, why?” she cried out. Her control wavered, but she clamped down on it even as she wondered whether she should.

He looked at her, smoke still billowing from his jaws, and she could see the pain of disappointing her in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Rarity,” he said, and in his agony he sounded more like the young Dragon she remembered than ever.

“He’s corrupted them,” Melody said, free of her saddlebags but curling protectively over her doll. “Like he did me. Believe me, Rarity, death is a kindness.”

“Look out!” Blaze shouted, pointing to the street where a heavy van was barrelling down towards them at dangerous speed. Behind the windshield was the maniacally grinning face of a brown unicorn with violet eyes, his magic sheathing him in a protective counter to her enchantment. She had never seen him before, but she knew who this had to be: Max Cash himself. On he came, heedless of the remains of his own forces held immobile in the road.

Rarity reached out to the van, and found she was already holding down half a dozen ponies within. She tried to manipulate them into interfering with Cash, but the attempt strained her control beyond its limits and she only succeeded in giving herself a flash of headache and a painful shower of sparks from her horn.

Spike grabbed her and flung her out of the way just as the van hit the barricade, smashing through in a scream of twisted metal and broken glass. It was all Rarity could do to hold on to her magic as she tumbled to the ground. The van roared past, running over police as it sped up to the front doors of the mansion and crashed through.

Rarity rolled back to her hooves and caught her bearings. First she looked for Melody, knowing the mare wouldn’t have left her doll even to save herself from being run down. Fortunately, it looked like she had been just out of the path of destruction, and was safe. Calumn and Blaze were on their sides, alive and conscious, though it looked like they had taken a hit from the bursting barricade. Spike, however, was not doing as well. The Dragon was still upright, glaring at the path the van had taken, but a twisted fragment of a police car was sticking through his left rear leg. He tried to move, but roared in pain as his leg refused to follow his commands.

“I’ll get him!” Rarity cried, turning towards the mansion. Only, something caught her eye as she turned. A moving shape on a rooftop across the street. She looked up at that shape, curious, and saw a beautiful pink pegasus holding one of the SWAT sniper rifles, its barrel trained right on her. “Oh, dear,” Rarity managed before there was a flash from the weapon and something hit her harder than a Rainbow Dash stunt gone wrong.

Charisma crept up behind the SWAT team, careful not to alert them to her presence. She wasn’t worried about taking out the two-pony sniper crew, she’d already killed two other teams and her Talent was listing off appropriate tactics to dispatch this one with ever-increasing creativity as she took her time. No, she was more concerned with alerting the other snipers stationed around the mansion to what she was doing. The tactical gear she was wearing was bullet resistant, but sniper rifles had a tendency to render such armor moot.

It came as an utter surprise when she was suddenly surrounded by a blue glow and flattened forcefully against the roof. She struggled, trying to move, her wings flapping uselessly. For a moment she thought that she was done for, but then she noticed that the snipers were similarly held in place. The spotter of the two had seen her, and was begging his armed buddy to turn the rifle on her. He, of course, was just as unable to comply with that request.

Charisma took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. The blue glow that surrounded all of them meant this was unicorn magic, though even Telekinetic Talents would have balked at holding three ponies like this.

“Think about it,” Charisma told herself, falling into the meditative training she’d learned fighting for the Solar Crown. “Every cage has a flaw. Find it.”

Take a dagger with your wing, her Talent demanded. Throw it at the stallion looking your way. Aim for the eye to penetrate his brain.

“Not helpful,” she snarled, then paused as a thought struck her. She maneuvered her head around to look down at herself, and flapped her wings. The realization that came made her grin. The incredible magic, powerful as it was, wasn’t holding her. It was holding her clothes.

She maneuvered her wing into pulling out one of her many daggers. The effort was agonizing, both in its slowness and how it pulled her wing into an awkward position. Finally, though, she managed to get the knife to her mouth. Then she bent her neck and began cutting away the ballistic fabric. She inevitably sliced herself as well, but not deeply and not badly.

As soon as he saw her do it, the spotter caught on to the idea as well. He took a little longer to get to his knife, but once he had it he was even more desperate in cutting himself free. So it became a race. She had the head start, but he was taking greater risks, slicing himself more deeply in order to beat her.

It was a race that he won, bursting out of the remains of his uniform. Then he made a mistake, grabbing at the sniper rifle and turning it on her instead of leaping on her with the knife in his mouth. In the time it took him to do that, she had freed her forelegs. She flipped the knife up and gave it an expert kick. It whirled end over end through the air and buried itself in the spotter’s eye just as he was turning the weapon on her. He quivered in place for a moment, mouth hanging open in confused shock, then he fell over on the sniper, stalling that pony’s own efforts at freeing himself.

Charisma gasped in pleasure at the sight, then wiggled free of her remaining outfit and plucked another knife from its sheath. She sauntered over to the sniper, savoring every step. “Sorry, boys,” she said, then reached down and slashed the sniper’s throat wide open. “Bad luck.”

She let the pleasant shivers wash over her for a moment before focusing on the situation again. She peeked over the edge of the roof, seeing that absolutely everyone in sight was being held down by the same blue glow. “Damn,” she whispered, wondering what kind of power a pony would have to possess to do something like this.

She shook it off and located the pony in question. It wasn’t hard; she was a literal beacon of power, glowing so brightly that Charisma had to squint to look directly at her. She picked up the fallen sniper rifle and checked it over for damage, slipping the trigger switch into her mouth.

There was the screech of tires, and she watched as one of Cash’s vans barrelled through the police barricade. She frowned at that, it had come from where Cash had been hiding, and she had a terrible suspicion that she knew exactly who was driving the vehicle. She had never known him to be so personally reckless before, but she was beginning to realize that she didn’t really know him at all. She snarled under her breath and hefted the rifle, using the scope to track the blue-glowing unicorn mare as she tumbled away from the crash. She stilled her breath as the mare stood up, taking careful aim at her head. The glare was almost too much to see through, so she wasn’t sure she had a good kill shot, but the light also made it almost impossible that she’d miss.

At the last second the mare seemed to sense her, looking right up at where Charisma stood. Shoot her, her Talent whispered, and she saw no reason not to. The rifle bucked and the unicorn was thrown backwards to the ground, the blue glow winking out from around her and every other pony in the area like a light had been switched off.

Charisma waited for the rush of pleasure, but it didn’t come. She frowned at that, but shook it off as she realized that with the paralyzing magic gone the other sniper teams would be getting up, and probably targeting her. Fortunately, she knew where they were set up, so she had the drop on them. She brought the rifle up and fired six more times, each shot accompanied by the usual flush of shivering joy flooding through her.

By the time she had taken care of the snipers, the fighting had resumed below. It was more subdued than before, a large number of combatants on both sides either dead or too injured to fight. More would fall before it was all over. The very thought made her pulse quicken and warm tingles rush through her body.

She spent a moment strapping on a pair of knives before she went back to observing the battle. She sighted with the rifle’s scope, scanning across the fractured police lines. Combat was degenerating into hoof-to-hoof fighting, which put her side at the advantage with their greater experience and training. Still, there were pockets of serious resistance that could still turn the tide. The most obvious one was the Dragon, Spike, a living flame thrower who tore apart anyone that came close and immolated those who didn’t. He was clearly injured, dragging one leg as he clawed his way across the mansion’s lawn to the downed super-unicorn. He crouched over her, touching her face with a tenderness that Charisma would have thought impossible from such brutal claws.

Now that she could see more of the mare, she looked terribly familiar. She reminded Charisma of the statue she’d seen in Spike’s cave. Same shape, same colors, though this one was clearly flesh and blood. Charisma spent a long moment examining the mare through the rifle’s scope, then turned her attention back to the Dragon. She knew that she’d need a very good shot to take him out, even with such a powerful weapon. She sighted in on his eye.

Her heart leapt into her throat. He was looking right at her. His mouth was open, emerald fire already roaring out of his throat and right at her. She fired, but her shot had been fouled and went wide. He didn’t even flinch as the bullet cracked by inches from his face. She dropped the rifle, wings flapping as she leapt from the rooftop. It exploded behind her, the heat scorching her tail and flinging her head over hooves through the air.

Her spin was only out of control for a moment before her dancer’s poise asserted itself and she turned it from a headlong tumble into a graceful spin. She angled her fall, arcing to drop directly on top of the Dragon, who was just recovering from using his fire. He twisted, smoking jaws gaping to snap at her. She grinned.

She landed with her hooves placed on the tips of Spike’s open snout. He tried to rear back, but pegasus speed beat Draconic reaction times. She took a knife in her teeth and drove it down into the softer tissues. The angle was wrong for her to shove the blade up into his brain, so she settled for nailing his tongue to the bottom of his mouth.

He roared in pain and she tumbled down his side. The debris sticking out of his leg was too good a target to pass up, so she kicked it as she went by, hearing his cry climb a couple registers. She rolled to a stop several paces from him. Do not let him catch you standing still, her Talent urged, and she let it guide her. She leapt to the side as he practically fell towards her, claws reaching out and tearing at the ground where she had been a moment before.

She danced around him, the thrill of it all singing in her heart. A cop tried to lunge at her, but he was slow and clumsy. She slashed his throat in passing without missing a step or taking her attention from the Dragon. “You know, I knew you’d be coming for us,” she said, waiting for the opening she knew would come. “I just didn’t expect you to show up here.” Spike growled, blood and smoke pouring in streams from between his lips as he watched her warily. “Oh, right, the tongue thing.” She laughed, eyes sharp in the flashing light as she examined him for weaknesses. One stood out immediately, but she kept looking for others. “I guess that cuts bantering options, doesn’t it?” The bullet holes in his scales looked like good entry points. She wouldn’t be able to penetrate her remaining knife far enough to kill, but she could incapacitate if she used it right.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she continued, letting her Talent guide her steps to get her into a better position. “You know who I am. You know what I do. Hell, you saw what Cash is capable of, personally. What did you expect was going to happen? Was it just Draconic pride?” She faked a lunge to one side, then shot directly at him. He took the bait, but was experienced enough not to leave himself open. His arms went up to counter any blow she could make, an exchange which would favor him and his stone-rending talons over her and her single combat knife. Still, he was off balance enough that he couldn’t react when she passed him by entirely and slid to a halt next to the prone white unicorn. She grinned at him and held her knife above the mare’s throat. “Or was it all for her?”

She saw the terror in his eyes. She flushed in triumph, knowing what that fear would drive him to do. He lunged for her, the move made far too awkward by his injured leg. Better for her, he couldn’t afford to injure the unicorn mare by falling on her with his deadly talons, limiting his angles. She pirouetted around his slashing claw, ducked inside his fumbling reach, and slammed her knife into one of the bullet wounds on his chest. The blade sank in right to the hilt, and she felt it thrum in time with the beating of his heart. He froze in shock, and she took the opportunity to rip the knife out and slide it into another wound in his back, near his spine. This one glanced off heavy bone, and she could feel the blade bending. Giving up on retrieving the weapon she flipped backwards, kicking the hilt to snap it off the blade, leaving the length of steel embedded in the Dragon’s back. He collapsed, wrapped protectively around the fallen unicorn. Alive, but out of the fight.

She rolled back to her hooves just in time to dodge a chitinous black hoof. She spun around, wings snapping out to distract her new opponent as she lashed out with her forehooves. She met nothing but air as the Changeling buzzed up and back, coming to land a good yard out of her reach. She paused for a moment, examining the insectile horror. “Well, I should have expected at least one of you to show up. So, you want to test the Kingdom’s best close-quarters training against yours?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the Changeling said, his eyes lighting with a sick green glow.

Charisma wagged a hoof at him. “Bad idea. I’ve got Griffin countermeasure training.” He paused at that, uncertainty clouding his glowing gaze. “You try something up here,” she tapped her head, “and I’ll probably go berserk. No telling who I’ll kill, really, but you are absolutely going to be first on that list.”

She could see the indecision, though it looked like he still might try it anyway. She didn’t give him the opportunity. She launched herself at him, the edge of a hoof leading. He tried to dodge, but she anticipated the motion. She smashed into him, sending them both sprawling. A part of her training in the Kingdom had been specifically on how to disable Changelings, and she never forgot a lesson. Her hooves found the joins between plates of his chitin, and with a cry of effort she pried them apart. He screamed, doubled voice hitting two different pitches at once as she essentially tore a hunk of his skin off the muscle beneath.

Disabled by the pain, he put up only feeble resistance as she stomped down on his face again and again. Blood leaked from cracks that spiderwebbed out from the impacts. She let out a delighted laugh and dug her hooves into his neck, squeezing the airway shut as she gloried in the anticipation of another death at her hooves.

“Charisma.” The voice cut through the singing pleasure and stopped her cold. “Hey, uh, would you mind, um, not killing my buddy there?”

She spun, and there he was. His face was covered in blood both from a nasty-looking gash on his forehead and from his torn and bruised lips. Still, he smiled for her. Her breath caught and she let go of the broken Changeling. “Blaze,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile turning sheepish. “So I hear you killed, like, a whole town. That’s a new one for you.”

“I’m with them,” he indicated her fallen opponents. “They needed a ride through the Storm and, well, I kinda wanted to see you again.”

Her nostrils flared, trying to separate the scent of him from the blood and gunpowder smells of the battlefield. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I’m really no good at this stuff,” he said, chuckling. She shivered at the sound; she wanted to hear that laugh while she broke his bones. Ached for it. “But, look, no matter how good you are at it, you shouldn’t be here either. This is all just him getting crazier. He’s gonna kill you, Charisma. Not in a fight, but with a knife in the back.”

“One of these days,” she replied, stepping away from the Changeling and towards Trail Blazer.

It was his turn to shake his head, but his smile didn’t fade. “You don’t want to die. I know you, better than anyone. Better than yourself, maybe. You’re not suicidal.”

“No, I’m not,” she agreed, then laughed. It was a bitter, broken laugh. “I don’t want to die, Blaze. I want everyone else to die. I want to kill every pony, Dog, zebra, Griffin or Dragon in the whole wide world, and he’s promised me the chance to do it.” Her face fell. In her mind’s eye she saw her nightmare again, and the streak of rainbow light that offered her salvation. “Or the chance to die trying.”

“You haven’t seen what I have, Blaze,” Charisma said. “The power he’s gained, it’s incredible! I think… I think he can do anything, now. Soon, he’ll be unstoppable. Soon, I… I’ll get my chance.”

Blaze sighed. “You know, I can’t really let you do that. There’s this distinction I make, between extortion and robbery. For one, you give the person a chance. A chance to negotiate or refuse to do what you want, even if the consequences are pretty bad. For the other, you’re just taking what you want, never giving the other side that chance. What you do normally? The whole fighting thing? You give them a chance. I’ve seen you, you give chances to surrender or run away or never fight at all. What Cash has got you doing? What you say you want to do? That’s robbery, and it’s wrong. I like the people in this world a whole lot. All of them, even the jerks and the bullies and the radio DJs who won’t play my favourite song even when I request it, like, a hundred times a day. I’ve got friends, Charisma, and I can’t let you rob them of their lives. Not even… not even if I do love you in a weird, serious-therapy-needing sort of way.”

“Love?” she repeated. The word brought her up short. She couldn’t remember him ever telling her that before. She could barely remember anyone telling her that since she was a filly. Since the day she had earned her Glyph, and the last pony to say he loved her had become her first victim. She tried to shake the memory away, though it refused to go easily. She forced out a laugh. “Blaze, you wonderful stallion. I know you’re trying to distract me.”

“Hardly,” she replied, smirking back. “You can’t stop me, Blaze. You know you don’t have the strength.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’d just get my flank kicked through the nearest wall. But I still… uh, what’s up with that?” he asked, staring past her.

Charisma wouldn’t have looked normally, but there was a subtle change in the light, a shift in the atmosphere that told her he wasn’t trying some stupid bluff. She turned and looked towards where the fallen super-unicorn was sitting up and looking towards the mansion, her eyes burning with a pure white light. “What the he–” she never got to finish as Blaze barrelled into her side.

It was an inept attack, completely unable to do more than shove her a few yards back. Yet that was enough. She was so shocked that he had actually attacked her that she didn’t even realize where he was pushing her until it was too late and she had stumbled into Spike’s reach.

The claws felt like ice as they dug into her flank, tearing past muscle and grinding against bone. She stared into Blaze’s yellow eyes as he gave her an apologetic smile. “Can’t let you do it, Charisma,” he said, then jumped back out of her reach.

She twisted, pulling off the Dragon’s talons, tearing her flank even more but freeing herself to get away. Her wings flapped hard, trying to lift her away from the scaled mass of muscle and death. He reached for her with his claws again, but she dodged out of their way, only to find herself in the path of his lashing tail instead.

The flat of the spaded tail hit her with bone-shattering force, throwing her across the mansion’s yard and back into the street, rolling until she came up hard against the remains of the police barricade. She lay still for a long moment before sucking in a gasp of air that only made her entire side begin screaming in incredible pain. Still, it meant she was alive. She tested her good legs, trying to lift herself off the ground. She almost made it, but then a hideous cough wracked through her, splattering blood on the street. She collapsed into a heaving, coughing ball of pink agony. She knew that her only hope of survival now lay in whether or not Max Cash still needed her.

In the midst of her pain, all she wanted to do was laugh. Top marks, Blaze, she thought. He was always telling jokes and acting ridiculous, but somehow this struck her as the funniest thing he’d ever done.

Hard Boiled had never seen anything like this. He’d participated in raids before, some of which had gotten pretty damned ugly, but this was a small war. Captain Rivers had gotten hit by a lucky shot early on, and HB had to drag him to shelter with bullets whizzing all around them. He had been lucky so far, only a grazing wound that stung like a bastard, but wasn’t bleeding badly or impairing him in any way. He emptied his revolver into the attackers again and again, burning through his supply of bullets until he was down to just one chamber and a prayer.

Then the blue glow had enveloped everything and mashed everyone into the ground like the hoof of Luna coming down and declaring a time-out. He had no idea what it was, but he remembered Calumn talking about Rarity as some ancient hero reborn. Another impossible mare to add to the list, if she ever deigned to let him up again.

When the magical hold did end, it came with the shriek of broken metal and a van smashing through the front doors of the mansion. Knowing the confusion that must have been going on inside, HB wasted no time in pulling himself up and running to the breach.

He squeezed past the van, hearing voices from the other end. One of them was the same voice he’d heard coming from the radio before the chaos began.

“Hey, Alan,” Cash said, his voice incongruously friendly and jovial as the sounds of combat resumed outside. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“You son of a bitch!” the Senator snarled back. “You’re not getting away with it this time! You’re going to hang for this!” Cash laughed and Hard Boiled edged around the side of the van, taking in the scene.

The officers HB had left with Birchfield were gathered next to the pink statue, using it and the rest of the artful decorations as cover. Their weapons were out and trained on six of Cash’s soldiers who stood arrayed in the middle of the foyer in front of the smashed van. Cash was just behind them, grinning at the Senator. The standoff wasn’t good odds for the cops, and HB’s magic was pointing out all the cues that they were ready to surrender. Except from Traduce, who was determined and furious.

“Hang?” Cash scoffed. “Me? I kinda doubt it. I’ve got about half the judiciary in my pocket. At the very least the appeals process will go on for a decade. Then we’d get into the blackmail, and the assassinations and the PR campaigns. It just sounds so exhausting, really. Hey, why don’t we skip all that, and instead I just take that pretty little necklace there and go on my merry way. I’ll even let you keep the statue.”

HB stepped out from behind the van and put his revolver to Cash’s head. “Why don’t you tell your boys to put their guns down?” He clicked the hammer back. “Slowly.”

The soldiers whirled to look at him, and he could see the madness in their eyes. He knew instantly that they would die for Max Cash, and knew that devotion was already eating them up from the inside. It was like looking at a victim of a flesh-eating plague, seeing the wounds, open and oozing, and knowing there was no help for them, that they were condemned to a slow, agonizing death. He felt his gorge rise at the sight, but swallowed it down and kept his composure. He pressed the revolver’s muzzle harder into Cash’s head.

For his part, Cash’s disturbing smile never wavered. HB’s magic was telling him nothing about the stallion that he couldn’t see with his unaided eyes. “Wow,” Cash said, and he almost sounded pleased. “This was unexpected. Hello, Lieutenant. How were the jungles? Hot? Sticky? Lots of insects, I’m guessing.”

“You should probably think about shutting up,” HB said. “You are under arrest. Anything you say here is admissible as evidence against you in court. Assuming you ever make it that far.”

“I’m only asking because I’m planning to head down that way next,” Cash continued as if Hard Boiled hadn’t said anything. “So I’m wondering how much bug spray I’ll really need. I’m hoping it’s not a lot. It makes my coat feel all greasy and, well, I don’t have to tell you how unpleasant that is.”

HB grit his teeth in annoyance. “You’re not going anywhere, you sick asshole. You have the right to legal representation during questioning as well as before the courts. You will be expected to pay for this representation, either out of your own pocket or through garnishment of any future earnings. If convicted, you will be required to work off any debt incurred during your trial before they get around to putting a rope around your neck. Do you understand what I’ve just told you?”

“It was pretty clear,” Cash said, unperturbed. “It’s just like they say it in the movies.”

“If you understood,” Hard Boiled growled. “Then why haven’t you told your soldiers to put their damn guns down!?”

“Whoa, take it easy there, Lieutenant,” Cash said with a chuckle. “You’ve got the power here, right? You’ve got your gun pressed to my head, after all.”

HB’s horn flared as his magic was hit with a lie so powerful it blew past Traduce’s protection and sent a spike of agony into his brain. His vision doubled, and he saw Cash both standing still with a gun to his head, and slipping to the side. Across the room, Traduce cried out and fell to the floor, green fire licking over her as her disguise melted away. HB could barely think through the pain, but he managed to pull the trigger. The bullet went through one image of Cash and grazed the other one. The one who had moved reacted in surprised pain, while the one who had stood still didn’t move at all.

The soldiers took this as their cue to act. Three opened fire on the cops, who began shooting back. One turned and smashed a hoof into HB’s face. It caught his horn, and the world vanished behind the blinding pain.

When he was able to think again, he found he was being tied up. He was still too feeble to fight back, and so could do nothing as his legs were secured and he was thrown next to Birchfield and Traduce by the stairs. The other officers, the ones who had fought, were dead. They had given better than they got, though, as four of the soldiers were also down, leaving only two to stand guard on Max Cash. Birchfield was unconscious, and his breathing ragged as he bled from a bullet wound in his side. He’d need a hospital before the night was out, or he wouldn’t survive. Traduce looked beat up, but not seriously injured. They’d strapped her down more securely than they had him, wary of her shapeshifting abilities. She was watching the scene with furious eyes as HB was set down next to her.

Cash was standing in the middle of the room, examining the bleeding trench in his back left by HB’s bullet. “That... wow, that was a close one,” he said, then launched into a loud, braying laugh that made HB wince. The laughter cut off suddenly and Cash strode over to where HB lay. “You almost saw through it, didn’t you?” He grinned and shook his head. “And you were using the Changeling to augment your magic, weren’t you?” He kicked at Traduce, who glared back at him with hate-filled green eyes. “That’s just, well… if we get the chance later, you have got to show me how that magic of yours works. I was a fan of yours before this, but, damn, I wasn’t giving you enough credit.”

Hard Boiled gave him a steady glare. “What now, Cash? I know how you get the necklaces. So, are you planning to kill us and take the Element?”

He shrugged. “Well, not you. She might work.” He grinned at Traduce, and something in that smile made her flinch back. “How about it, sweetie? You’re too tied up with him for me to tell if you’ve got all the qualifications, but if you’re mad enough at me we can give it a shot.” She said nothing, but didn’t drop her glare. “No? Yes? Nah, you don’t feel like the right one.” He paused, then let out a giggle. “‘Tied up with him’. Sorry, I swear that pun was completely unintentional.”

“There are others,” HB said. “They won’t take too long mopping up your thugs out there, and then it’s just going to be the three of you against every cop the OCPD can muster, as well as a Luna-damned Dragon! You think you can survive that?”

He sighed, giving HB a companionable nod. “Yeah, not really my original plan. Believe you me, I wanted this whole thing to have a lot more certainty to it. But then one thing led to another and my original plan was murdered. So now I’m running on blind faith and positive thinking.”

“Wanna bet?” he asked with a grin. “I mean that, wanna bet? I lost my last gambling buddies in a pair of fortunate digging incidents. I didn’t think I’d miss them until poker night rolled around and there was only Charisma to play with. Do you know what it’s like gambling with her? Boring. She barely even cheats!”

There was a cry from one of the soldiers, and they all turned their heads to watch as he was brought down from behind by Melody Drop. The dirty, frazzled pegasus mare had latched onto him with one foreleg across his throat. Her muscles stood out clearly as she brought her manic strength to bear. The other soldier turned towards her, and with a snarl of effort she brought the weapon of the soldier she was fighting to bear on the other one. Then she punched the soldier in the jaw, activating the trigger that sent a hail of bullets at her target. The second soldier fell in a spray of blood, and with a dry snap that could be heard across the foyer she broke the neck of the first one.

She let the body fall to the ground, panting for breath and staring at Cash with an expression of such hatred that HB didn’t need magic to see the murder in her eyes.

“Damn,” Cash said, shaking his head as he looked at his downed soldiers. “You guys really were not worth what I paid for you.”

“Me!” Cash replied with a bright grin. His words were in Solar, but HB’s magic was providing a good enough translation of their meaning that he could follow it clearly. “From Precious Corners, right?” He laughed. “Is everyone going to show up tonight?” He turned to Hard Boiled, his expression terrifyingly earnest. “Please tell me Rainbow Dash is around here somewhere.”

“I didn’t kill anyone there,” Max protested, sounding genuinely offended. Then he smirked. “Except Bright Lantern. I absolutely killed him. Oh, and maybe I burned a bunch of people to death too, but I didn’t really confirm those ones, so they don’t count.” Melody screamed and launched herself into the air. “Okay! They count! They count!”

She dropped at him, her wings pumping to give speed to her fall. He tried to dodge to the side, but wasn’t fast enough, and her hoof struck him in the shoulder. His leg crumpled and he sprawled out on the ground as Melody tumbled to a halt. She was up in a flash, screaming as she pummeled him with her hooves. Cash tried to scramble away from her, but she kept up with him. His horn flared, creating magenta shields that warded off Melody’s blows but did nothing to slow her assault.

“So, I’m guessing High Fashion kicked the bucket, huh?” he wheezed, spitting blood between words.

“You killed him,” Melody growled, spinning around and bucking at a shield until it shattered.

Cash dragged himself back even farther, edging towards the statue garden at the center of the foyer. “Actually, I think you’ll find he killed himself.” He frowned, uncertainty crossing his face for the first time in the encounter. “Didn’t he?”

“You sent Charisma to kill him,” Melody spat. Tears were dropping from her eyes as she looked away from Cash, and HB tracked her gaze to where a small unicorn doll was tucked away in a corner of the room, well away from the violence. “You broke his mind and then had her break his neck! And you made me… you made me…” With a wail she returned to her wild attacks on Cash’s shields, each blow sending new cracks through his magic. HB was surprised they were standing up to the punishment at all; Cash had to be an incredibly strong Magic Talent to make shields that tough.

Cash had seen where her gaze had gone as well, though, and his face lit up with understanding. “Yes. Yes I did,” he chuckled.

“He’s lying!” HB called out, but he didn’t know enough Solar to make her understand.

“You know why?” Cash continued. Melody responded with a snarl and another kick at his shield. “‘Cause it was fun. So fun, in fact, that I think I’ll do it again.” He pushed himself up against the base of the pink statue and let his shield drop. Melody reared back to land a double-hoof blow against his prone form, but then she froze in place. Cash’s magic had reached across the room, grabbing hold of the doll and flinging it to hang between the two of them.

HB could see the terror in Melody. Her muscles were so rigid he worried that they might snap. Her eyes were wide, mad. He’d seen the same madness in Cash’s soldiers, but in her it had changed. It wasn’t something that would eat her alive, but it would still drive her to destroy herself. A lot of that madness was focused on the doll, on something it represented to her.

“Loyalty’s a powerful thing,” Cash said, grinning up at her. “There’s a reason I had to get it first. It can make you do things that you never would on your own, great and terrible things, just because you feel obligated, you feel bound, to someone else. You sunland ponies understand that better than we do in the Republics, I’m sure. But it’s got its weaknesses. For instance, what happens if the object of your loyalty, I don’t know, gets ripped in half?”

Cash’s magic twisted, and the doll tore. Fabric and fluff scattered out around them. Melody’s eyes went wide and stricken. Then blood rushed to them and she let out a scream of such primal agony and rage that Hard Boiled recoiled from the sound. “You!” she roared, the word mangled and barely comprehensible. She struck out, her hooves landing on Cash with meaty thuds. He curled up, forelegs covering his head. She struck out again and again, not placing her blows carefully or with any purpose, merely to hurt him as much as possible. “Kill you!” she screamed, over and over again. Blood flew as her hooves began breaking through flesh. Cash didn’t even try to strike back, reduced to flinching and shaking with every hit. Melody reared up for another smashing blow with all her weight behind it. “I hate you!”

Cash’s horn flared, wrapping Melody’s forehooves in magenta light. When she brought them down, they didn’t strike him, instead redirected to touch the blue gemstone that hung at the statue’s throat. The gem flashed, so quickly that HB wasn’t sure he had actually seen it. Melody gasped, her anger at Cash momentarily forgotten as some new sensation swept through her, a feeling that HB’s magic found wholly alien. So it was that she didn’t see when Cash shifted, then slammed his horn into her gut.

She twitched from the impact, looking down at him. Then her back exploded in a shower of blood and magenta light. She fell away to sprawl on the floor, panting and alive, but not for much longer.

Cash tried to get up, failed, then tried again. He managed to clamber to his hooves, but moved with the agonized care of someone whose body was not following directions. “I hadn’t even thought of you,” he said, spitting blood and staggering to her side. “Never considered that you would be an option. Honestly? I don’t even remember your name. But you know what? I knew someone was coming.” He reached for her, batting away her feeble attempt to ward him off. With slow, lurching steps he dragged her back towards the statue.

“You’ve done enough!” HB snarled. “She’s dead already, just take what you want and go!”

Cash gave him a hard stare, the smile and irreverent cheer gone from his face. “There’s a process to this, Lieutenant. And a price to pay.” He shoved Melody up against the base of the statue, where he had lay moments earlier. “It’s not enough that she die. She has to know why.” He slapped at Melody a few times, getting her eyes to focus on him even as she bled out of the gaping hole in her middle. “I knew someone would come. I knew it not because I had planned for you to be here, or because I’m somehow in control of these grand events. No, I knew it because I hadn’t planned for it. I knew it because I’m not in control. This isn’t my story. I’m not the hero, but neither am I the villain. I’m just like you, in fact. Just like them.” He waved to indicate both his dead soldiers and the trio of bound ponies. “I’m a puppet. I’m just another fucking plaything for the real villains. Freedom is a joke, and choice is an illusion. In the end there’s only a hoofful of ponies who can honestly say that they’ve ever actually had one, and most of them never even realized it. Me? I want to be one of them. I want myself to matter. But I can’t ever do that unless those same forces that are pulling the strings want to let me. I am at their mercy, just like every other sucker in the whole damn universe. You know how I feel about that?” He put his face very close to hers, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “I hate it.”

Then he reared up in a mirror of how Melody had stood over him earlier and let out a cry of anger that resonated with Hard Boiled’s magic in a strange way, like he was speaking with many voices at once. “I hate it!” He brought his hooves down, smashing them into Melody’s chest. Her ribs broke, but worse was the shift in pressure that ended whatever stasis was keeping her first wound from killing her. She lurched, blood bubbling out of her mouth, then fell limp. Dead. Cash, his own energy spent, fell down next to her body, taking short, gasping breaths.

There was a subtle click, and the necklace fell from the statue, bouncing from the dead Melody to land in front of Cash. He let out a weak chuckle, reaching for it. HB reacted first, his telekinesis grabbing the necklace and dragging it across the floor. It felt strange. Slick, like his magic was sliding off of it. He couldn’t get a good grip, but it was enough to keep it from Cash’s grasp.

Then Cash’s magic reached out, and it became a tug-of-war between them. Cash was stronger by far, but he was beaten and exhausted. HB poured his concentration into his magic, but as much as he pulled, he couldn’t overcome Cash’s power. Then a flare of green fire joined the copper and magenta, and he was rewarded with the necklace sliding a few inches closer to him.

“Oh, you would make this difficult, wouldn’t you?” Cash groaned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got something for this.”

“I… can’t keep this up for long,” Traduce snarled, the glow of her magic already fading. “Don’t have… the energy.”

“Take it… from me,” HB growled through gritted teeth. She gave him a questioning look, but he shook his head. “We can’t let him have that necklace. Take it from me. As much as you can!”

He felt the connection between them open up. Her magic sent tendrils out from the place in his mind where his pain lived, seeking the truly nourishing emotions that he had kept sealed away from her influence. A part of him recoiled from the invasion, but he steeled his will, and forced his heart open to her.

They hadn’t known each other long, and his nature and hers were antithetical. That wasn’t fertile ground to build a relationship that could nourish a Changeling. Yet nearly every moment of the last month had been spent in her company, and they had shared so much in that time. He had let his defenses down with her, and he had seen her be more honest with him than he thought she ever had been before. In all honesty, he saw that her words to him in his apartment a month-long lifetime ago had been true: opposites did attract.

It wasn’t love, not yet, but it was something. It was friendship. It was enough.

Traduce’s magic flared back to its full light as she drank in his honest feelings for her. The necklace skittered along the ground, coming to rest right next to Hard Boiled. He rolled, dropping his weight on it and preventing Cash from trying to take it back. Traduce let out a cry of pained effort, and in a burst of green fire her limbs sprouted saw-edged chitin blades. She shook, twisting her legs to cut through the bindings, which snapped with a trio of whipcord cracks. HB almost expected her to go after Cash, but instead she grabbed hold of him and began dragging him into the hallway deeper into the mansion. He clutched the necklace tight as she pulled him, staring hard into the surprised eyes of Max Cash.

“Aw, come on, guys!” Cash called after them, slowly forcing himself upright. “Come back! Let’s talk about this!” Traduce shoved open the door to the study, then dragged Hard Boiled inside as Cash’s voice carried after them. “Pretty please? I’ve got cookies!”

Traduce slammed the heavy door shut and threw the bolt closed, blocking him out.

“Thank you,” Traduce replied. HB could see the desire to kiss him in her eyes, but she abstained, instead rushing over and using her sharpened limbs to saw at his bindings. “That door won’t hold him off for long.”

Hard Boiled glanced around the room. “Window,” he said. “We run. He’ll never be able to find us out there.”

He paused for a moment, letting his magic check his logic for flaws. Then he nodded. “Oh yeah. I’m sure.”

“We did it,” he said, with a determined nod. Then together they hefted one of the overstuffed chairs and threw it through a window.

Rarity had the worst headache she could ever remember having. Worse, her coat was covered in blood and it was going to take hours of scrubbing to get it back to its natural shine.

She leaned against Spike’s side, listening to the Dragon’s labored breathing and feeling the incredible heat of his body. He had passed out not long after she had regained consciousness, succumbing to his own terrible injuries. She wished she could do something for him, but she could barely focus her eyes, let alone even attempt to move or do something with her magic. So she lay there and waited for help to come.

The fighting noise had died down to a few sporadic cracks of gunfire. She couldn’t tell which side had won, but she supposed that her continued survival was a good sign. The only pony who seemed mobile was Trail Blazer, and he was busy getting Calumn to safety.

A commotion near the mansion made her look in that direction, the motion making the world swing wildly in her vision and her stomach lurch with sudden nausea. She saw a group of soldiers helping a limping unicorn stallion past the van lodged in the doors. He looked beat up, his brown coat and grey mane stained with blood. She remembered that stallion from somewhere, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it.

The stallion chuckled. “Then I guess sending out search parties to find a Changeling and an obstinate police detective are out of the question?” The soldier nodded. “Oh, well. Where’s Charisma?”

“What, again?” The stallion shook his head incredulously. “That’s it. I’m instituting a three-strike policy for her, and that was strike number two. I assume she’s getting evacuated?”

“I want you to– hold up a sec,” the stallion turned his purple eyes on Rarity. There was an intensity in them that sent a chill down to her core. “Is that Rarity?” Her guts tightened, and she tried to sink deeper into Spike’s side. “I wondered about that epic magic earlier, but this?” He let out a wild, braying laugh that devolved into a fit of coughing. When it had subsided he allowed himself a small chuckle instead. “You know Rainbow Dash is back too, right?”

“You know me!” he crowed, then coughed a few times before speaking again. “I mean, I know I’m famous in some circles, but, guys, the Rarity knows my name!” The soldiers looked at each other in confusion, unsure of how to respond to their employer’s words. “Aw, forget it, I bet none of you grunts follow fashion anyways. Look, Rarity, I’d love to stay and chat. You have no idea how much. But I’m gonna need a transfusion or something, and my right-hoof mare is gonna need another dose of the old healing touch. Just find me, alright? I’ve got something for you.” He gave her a wink that made her shiver, then directed his soldiers to carry him away from the battlefield.

Rarity watched them go, then spent a long time staring the way they went as sirens filled the night and more and more emergency response ponies made their way to the bloody mansion grounds. She didn’t resist as she was put on a stretcher and loaded into one of the ambulances. She merely requested in her broken Lunar to be sent to the same hospital as Spike. They assured her she would be, and she lay back and accepted their care.

In her mind, she kept going over what had happened. The events of the night horrified her, to depths that she suspected would become more apparent as her head injury healed. Yet it was the brief meeting with Max Cash that truly stuck out to her as the most terrible. There had been something in his eyes, in his voice, that triggered the worst sort of dread in her. It cut through the muddled thoughts of her concussion and struck right to the core of her being. She owed Rainbow Dash and Spike an apology, she hadn’t really understood the vehemence with which her friends had spoken about Cash before.

Harmony Theory

by Sharaloth

Chapter 29: Hate