The End of Ponies

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Chapter Thirty-Eight: One Flew Over the Pinkie Pie

The End of Ponies
by shortskirtsandexplosions

Chapter Thirty-Eight – One Flew Over the Pinkie Pie

Special thanks to Vimbert, theworstwriter, and Warden for editing

Extra Special Thanks to Valhalla-Studios for Cover Art

“And so the walrus says to the marmoset, 'I'm kosher, not vegan!' Heeheeheehee!”

“Miss Pie... ” Harmony groaned as the two strolled alone down a thin gray canyon leading to the westernmost edge of the sunken town. “Is there ever a moment when you stop to breathe?”

“No can do, Har Har!” Pinkie grinned, balancing a final white box of cookies on her flank. “If I don't get at least ten jokes per gallon, my engine will burn out!”

“Miss Pie, you're not a machine. You're a pony. You've got standards that go beyond spitting out jokes like flak above a Zebraharan warzone.”

“Uh oh!” Pinkie gasped. “Did emoquine Mayor Haymaker fill your already cynical head with a bunch of gray thunderclouds?”

“Haymane. And don't be ridiculous.” Harmony glanced her way. “Yeah, he's a bit inside-out when it comes to some of his interpretations of Gultophine's legacy, in my humble opinion. But still, he obviously wants the best for this town, and he's been through a lot. I think it's remarkable that he would overcome all adversity to become a leader who's so invested in Dredgemane's progress.”

“Yeah, well, if he's such a smart and forward thinking pony, how come a mayor who depends so much on wheels builds his house up someplace that takes a dozen flights of stairs to get to?”

“I... er... ” Harmony blinked stupidly.

“Heeheehee! It's okay to admire Mayor Sadmane, Har-Har. But you gotta realize, I know him. He's been buddy-buddy with Daddy for a long time.” Pinkie bounced merrily, chirping. “Some ponies like him, ponies who've been around Dredgemane long enough, kind of want to stay exactly where they are and never budge, wheels or no wheels.”

“How could you say that?” Harmony squinted at her. “During his candidacy, he's improved the exports and industry of this town by leaps and bounds!”

“Now there's a funny thing about Equestrian statistics!” Pinkie grinned brightly over a candy-colored shoulder. “Can any of those fancy schmancy numbers measure the history of Dredgemane in smiles?”

Harmony raised an eyebrow at that, but eventually frowned. “Miss Pie, life is not all about giggles and smiles.”

“Then where do giggles and smiles have left to go?”

“What does it matter? Why do you care so much—Snkkt—Where are we going?” Harmony glanced all around the thinning walls of the lone canyon. They were the only two souls stumbling down that lone path as it winded around a corner splotched with dead, jagged trees. “I've never seen this part of town before.”

“That's because most ponies don't come down here anymore.” Pinkie winked. “But we aren't most ponies, are we, probation officer? Heeheehee... ”

Harmony sighed. “I still can't believe you did that... ”

“Did what? Came up with a totally awesome cover on the spot?”

“You lied directly to the mayor.”

“And just what were you about to do, Har-Har?”

“I... I... ” Harmony growled. “Just how would you know what I was about to do?”

“You're a very smart and pretty pony, Har-Har.” Pinkie giggled. “But you're also very predictable. Once you've gotten that last part straightened out, the stallions will be falling at your hooves for sure!”

Harmony wryly smirked. “If that was the case, shouldn't you be drowning in colts as we speak, Miss Random?”

“I still haven't told you what I did for spring break.” Pinkie Pie hummed. “Or more appropriately who.”

“Uhhhh... ” The last pony stammered nervously.

“Here we arrrrrre!” Pinkie gestured with a hoof as the canyon suddenly opened up to a wide gray space that formed a dead end. A giant four-story building stood forlornly against the tall granite walls that dwarfed its gray brick body. A thick black fence of iron stretched around the site, flanked with dead trees. A single sign coldly labeled the deathly place upon the duo's lonesome arrival.

“'Stonehaven Sanitarium,'” Harmony read as she and Pinkie trotted by. Her amber eyes wandered from the grim gate to a pair of run-down shacks residing next to the granite structure. A gulp. “So, uh, I'm guessing Inkie's here.”

“Heeheehee! Yup! She works here everyday!” Pinkie bounded towards the grand array of marble steps that stretched before the wide entrance of the hospital. “Come on! We're late enough as it is!”

“Uhm... Miss Pie, forgive me if this sounds like beating a dead horse, but why are you so excited this time?”

“Duh! Because they're expecting their Auntie Pinkie Pie!”

“They are?” Harmony blinked confusedly and trotted after the bouncing pink cloud. “Who're they?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Inside, the hospital was an eerily sterile and quiet beast. Harmony's hooftrots—drowned out by the roar of Dredgemane activity outside—were a gatling gun of noisy explosions against the black-and-white tile floor of Stonehaven. She tried to keep as respectfully silent as possible, an improbable task as she had to keep up with Pinkie's unhindered swiftness.

The last pony glanced nervously every which way, the sight of so many other equine souls still sending shivers up her Entropan spine, only here there was the creepily stale element of oozing silence and lifeless lethargy. White-garbed patients shuffled in the hallways like lost ghosts, their eyes glued to the monochromatic floor as they lurched endlessly towards unseen graves. Ponies sat on benches, their eyes glazed with a deep depression that was lost even unto the last living soul of Equestria. The nurses, doctors, and orderlies also had a frozen gait about them. For a brief moment, Harmony gladly followed Pinkie's singular bouncing motions with sincere enthusiasm.

Pinkie bounded her way up a flight of granite stairs until the two of them landed upon the fourth floor. Immediately, the earth pony made a bee-line towards a dimly lit door at the end of a grand hallway. Harmony was hard-pressed to keep up with her. Once she had barely caught up, Pinkie Pie flung the door open to the ward with a huge burst of sugary breath.

“Am I too late?!” The daughter of Quarrington melodramatically exhaled, her eyes bright blue saucers that lit the white walls with sapphiric mania. “I was told that cookies had to be delivered here, pronto! Oh woe is me if I failed yet another delivery on behalf of the karma of sweets!”

Harmony's soul was rocked by the sound of several high-pitched voices stabbing the air in response to Pinkie's unorthodox entrance into the hospital room:

“Auntie Pinkie Pie!”

“Heeee! Auntie Pinkie Pie is here!”

“Yaaay!”

“Did you bring us cookies? Really?”

“Heeheehee!”

Harmony raised an eyebrow curiously. Adjusting her beret, she stuck her copper face into the room. She blinked at what she saw.

Half a dozen beds stretched across the bright space of the heavily windowed room. Lying in them or else hobbling between them were several young foals, none older than seven or eight winters. They beamed and smiled and hobbled happily towards the sight of Pinkie Pie's entrance. Beyond that, there was one major commonality between the whole lot of them.

They were sick, pale, emaciated... yet surviving. Several had whole patches of their bright coats missing in random spots along their flanks. Others' manes were missing, or else threadbare. The limbs and knees of the children—the ones who could still trot about—were reduced to thin, bony spindles that barely kept their weight up. Many others remained under the covers of their beds, managing only to swivel their heads over and grin in Pinkie's direction. When the room wasn't filled with their excited murmurs or giggles, a dozen coughing voices randomly punctuated the air. Harmony could make out, on the far side of the room, four or five beds housing still bodies that were far too sick to stir awake, much less open their blackened eyes.

What was more, there was a familiar paleness to each of the foals' expression—happy or otherwise. It was a pitiable hue that haunted Scootaloo from a moment in her life that she had thought she had forgotten, of tears that filled the indefinable gap left behind the very first gray morning she awoke to check on her parents, and discovered that they weren't moving. There was a thin haze of yellow colorization around the children's eyes and lips, like the unmistakable stain of deathly jaundice.

“Infernite... ” Harmony murmured aloud. No second later after the last pony had pronounced this seemingly forbidden word, a brown-coated mare in plain nurse's gear sauntered up with a smile as bright as her blue mane.

“They've been talking about you all day, Pinkamena.” The nurse giggled. “Ever since Inkessa showed up and spilled the good news.”

“Good news?” Pinkie blinked and grinned. “You mean you no longer have to give shots! Cuz Auntie Pinkie is scared to the dickens of needles!”

The foals all giggled in programmed cadence. This room had obviously been through these motions before. One little filly hobbled up and tugged at Pinkie's tropical shirt with a jittery hoof.

“But Auntie Pinkie Pie, you said that we should just laugh away scary stuff!”

“Yes—But needles?!” Pinkie Pie held a hoof over her chest and flailed back on her rear limbs, teetering. “Please—Somepony, anypony, whisk this shuddering damsel from this torture chamber! Not everypony can be as brave as these kids! What is the world coming to?!” With a wilted groan, Pinkie collapsed to the floor. Half a dozen foals clambered all over her, tugging and poking at her cockroach-curled legs with a sea of giggles.

“Awwww... Come on, Auntie Pinkie... ”

“Shots aren't too bad!”

“You're a brave pony! We all know you are!”

“You're just saying that to get cookies!” Pinkie sobbed like an overacting fashionista. “That's all you waaaaaaant!”

“Heeheehee!”

“We've missed you, Pinkie!”

“Yeah, we wished you visited us more often!”

“Awwww—” Pinkie hugged and nuzzled the cheek of the closest kid to her, then the next, and the next. “Auntie Pinkie missed you all too.” Her face lit up for the millionth time in front of them. “I know! Let's have a pop quiz!”

“A pop quiz?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie bounced up to her hooves. Two foals climbed onto her back and she effortlessly gave them a ride around the room as she proudly cantered about. “I brought more than enough cookies for all of you, but I'm not giving them away that easily! The quiz is this:let's see if each of you can tell me something that made you smile this week, and I'll give you a cookie. If you can't think of anything that made you smile, we'll discover something! Then we can have cookies together!”

“Heehee, alright!”

“Inkessa brought this bright bouncy pink ball that Suntrot and I played with all afternoon!”

“I just beat Blue Bolt at checkers this morning!”

“I saw a bright songbird outside the window when I woke up!”

“Nurse Angel Cake told us this exciting tale about the Wolverines of the Snowy North!”

“Hey Hey HEY!” Pinkie Pie barked with a mock frown, engulfed in youngsters. “One at a time! You can chop me up into tiny pieces and serve them to one another, but it won't get you cookies any faster!”

“What if we don't want cookies, Auntie Pinkie?”

“What if we just want to tickle you and hear those funny sounds you make!”

“Oh no!” Pinkie gasped, her face stricken with a panicked horror. “Not the tickle army! Not the tickle army! I'd rather face Nightmare Moon—Noooooo!”

The foals gathered around her in a gauntlet of feathery hooves. Pinkie collapsed in the sea of them, giggling insanely until she broke into a helpless fit of hiccups.

“Oh noes! Now—HIC—you've gone and—HIC—done it! How can your Auntie—HIC—Pinkie Pie hoof out cookies—HIC—if she's too busy exploding from the inside—HIC—out with—HIC-HIC-HIC!”

As the scene of giggle-strewn bedlam continued, Harmony trotted towards a lonesome corner of the room... decidedly away from the sickly foals enjoying their brief reverie. Those who weren't clambering over their pink visitor were giggling with weak but genuine earnest from where they lay in bed. The room was as pale and foreboding as ever, but there was a bizarre warmth that lit the stale hub within.

“Lemme guess... ” The blue-maned nurse trotted towards the copper pegasus. “You're not from around here.”

“How... uhm... astute of you.” Harmony chewed on her lip nervously.

“Have you seen many M*A*S*H units while in the service?”

The last pony rolled her eyes towards the infernal beret. “Not exactly. Why do you ask?”

“I've seen that expression on your face before.” The nurse smirked. “You're wondering if—”

“—the infernite poisoning may be contagious?” Harmony took a deep breath. A pair of white stones flickered across her amber eyes. “I realize I should know better, but a part of me can't help but feel... concerned. I do apologize.”

The nurse giggled slightly. “Nothing to be sorry for. You brought Pinkamena here. We couldn't be more grateful. Inkessa told me that you might be occupying her sister's attention throughout the course of the day.”

“Quite the opposite.” Harmony said in a distance voice. “So... uh... are they—?”

“The children aren't contagious. At this stage in Immolatia, the poisoning is only a danger to themselves. If that wasn't the case, Haymane wouldn't have erected this ward on the fourth floor of Stonehaven.”

Harmony glanced over. “Haymane, you say?”

The nurse nodded. “All part of his campaign to provide services and shelter to the remaining victims of infernite outbreaks in the mines.”

“Seems rather noble of him.”

“Hmmm... To a fault.”

Harmony tilted her neck aside curiously. “Oh?”

“There wouldn't be so many outbreaks of Immolatia if Dredgemane hadn't increased mining in the quarry twenty-odd years ago and increased the exposure to pockets of infernite.” Following a deep breath, the nurse managed a weak but courageous smile. “Every ambition has its cost, even here in Gultophine's refuge.”

“I... wouldn't mind learning more.”

“In time. Right now, this moment is for the children. They've waited an awful long time for Pinkamena to visit again. They do look forward to her so much.” The nurse's eyes glazed over slightly. “A few of them... didn't make it to see her this time.”

Harmony stirred quietly upon hearing that.

“But, alas. No more frowns, at least not today.” The nurse glanced over and curtsied. “I'm Nurse Angel Cake. I manage this ward of Stonehaven.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Harmony squinted briefly. “Any relation to... ?”

“Auntie Pinkie Pie's Auntie? Heehee—Absolutely. You think these kids are excited, Mother is positively beside herself with excitement everytime Pinkamena shows up. It's good for business, because Pinkie's the only pony who can sell desserts inside Dredgemane's borders. Otherwise, the Cake Business is having to ship far and wide.”

“As far as Ponyville; I gotcha,” Harmony remarked. “Funny how the world keeps getting smaller and smaller with each pony you meet.”

“It's still a huge world, as far as these foals are concerned,” spoke Inkie, suddenly trotting in from the hallway with a basket of fresh white linens balanced on her back. “Oh great,” she droned at the sight of the hiccuping pink soul in the piling sea of children. “Tell me she hasn't made them do the foxtrot, yet.”

“You're here just in time to keep her in check.” Nurse Angel Cake walked over and took the basket from the gray-maned filly. “I don't mind her spreading sunshine on these little ones' days, so long as she isn't making them dizzier than they need to be.”

“Understood, Nurse Cake. I'll do my best.” Inkie trotted over and glanced aside. “Harmony, hey there. It's good to see you're in one piece.”

“Why shouldn't I be?”

“You did spend the day with Sis, did you not?”

“I saw a bum mule, a middle-aged prostitute, a rainbow colored miscreant, and Mayor Haymane.”

“Ooooh... You saw Haymane?” Inkie hissed through clenched teeth. “Really?”

“Now why does that intrigue you of all things?”

“In all seriousness,” Inkie spoke above the background of giggles while wandering from bed to bed and checking on the vitals of gently stirring foals. “There are seldom colorful souls in Dredgemane, and it only makes sense that Pinkie—of all ponies—would drag you into butting heads with them. But Mayor Haymane? The only reason I can think of your having to meet him is that Pinkamena repeated the Noodle Incident.”

“It begs the question.”

“I bet it does.”

“Anywho... ” Harmony glanced over as Pinkie Pie charaded a goggle-wearing cloaked figure while bouncing across invisible rooftops before applauding children. “Apparently I've been tasked with chasing down the Royal Grand Biv.”

“Pfft. Good luck with that.”

“Boy, did that sound confident.”

“Surest way towards getting a concussion is what you have ahead of you.” Inkie smirked after examining one last patient and trotting towards Harmony. “Take it from a nurse. You're in for a world of pain.”

“Where I come from, that's like a hearty morning breakfast.”

“Since when were you suddenly Mayor Haymane's lackey? I had no idea you came to town to chase down a vandal dressed like a bad yard sale.”

“I had no idea either. But apparently it's my job now.”

“Just like that?”

“Let's say that—no matter how wise this pegasus may get in her years—she will always be a creature of impulse.” A crashing noise. Harmony glanced over to see Pinkie suddenly hobbling about with a glass jar of cotton swabs tightly clamped over her head. The foals giggled madly around her stumbling antics. “I could be worse off, I guess.”

“You and me both, Harmony. Excuse me if you will.” Inkie sighed and bore a weathered smile as she trotted over to her sister's rescue and yanked the jar off her pink skull. “Would you just give them the cookies already?”

“Inkie!” Pinkie frowned and yanked her straw hat out of the jar, planting it on her skull upside down. “You'll ruin my movement!”

“You want help with your movement? Nurse Angel Cake's got an enema for that.”

“Hey! Hey! Pssst—Rock Kindergarten humor! Keep it simple!” The room giggled regardless; several foals were content to just walk up and hug Pinkie's limbs, smiling.

“Rats... ” Harmony sighed and leaned back against a whitewashed wall of brick. “And to think that was almost funny.”

---

Even in the driest pit of my goddess-forsaken soul, I cannot deny it; watching Pinkie entertain the young foals was a charming thing. One second she was giving little fillies and colts a galloping ride around the room, then the next second she was playing board games with half a dozen of them at once. I watched her tell them stories, sketch drawings with them, and sing songs that I had forgotten since I was a little Crusader.

It's an easy thing—in the life that I live—to forget how important foalhood is, especially one that is maintained within the safe buffers of innocence. It occurred to me that, after an entire day of waltzing helplessly around town and witnessing Pinkie do one horribly embarrassing thing after another, I had finally stumbled upon the one place where she could be in her element, where she could be the big kid that she always was. I have no doubt that if Pinkie Pie had discovered reverse-time and had somehow extended her life by the same three hundred years that define Spike, she'd be no more mature than she was that very moment—before me, Nurse Angel Cake, and Inkessa—dancing around the ward with stethoscopes plugged into her nostrils.

It was obvious to me that everypony in town knew who Pinkamena Diane Pie was. In Stonehaven, the children of the Immolatia Ward practically worshipped her. At first, it was hard for me to comprehend that one single pony soul could ever light up an entire room full of kids, but then I remembered somepony who was once the light of my life, and how every lonely day lived on my own would have been pointless if I didn't have her prismatic beacon of awesomeness leading me faithfully into the next day of blind opportunity and hope.

None of what I witnessed, though, was enough to make me laugh. I couldn't revel in the sweet sights before me, because I knew—more than any other pony in the ward was willing to admit—that you were there, that you kissed the children to sleep every night, that you were more loyal to them than Pinkie Pie ever could have been.

There was a time when I had once blamed the Cataclysm on you. Looking back, I realized that such a presumption was too easy to make on my behalf. It doesn't take a single incident to define you. It takes a whole eternity to paint you with the black colors that illustrate your hidden movements. You were a constant shadow, deeper than the grave of Consus, and I saw you every time in a pitiful blink each moment a foal jumped or a little kid waved a hoof or a coughing patient shuddered in the cold lanternlight that permeated that room.

I am the end of ponies. I know what all things that ever lived hoped for. What's more, I know that all of their hopes—no matter how joyous or charming—were all for naught. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together for me right then. Pinkie Pie and the giggling foals: I suddenly saw their bony skeletons lying beside an overturned wooden cart buried deep in a crevice of Equestrian earth beneath a fallen moonrock. Whatever future they had dreamed of—like the grand legacy of Ponymonium—would be utterly curtailed by the bitter talons of destiny.

So that was it. I had discovered the missing piece that I had convinced Spike I needed to go back to my pink anchor for. It brought me no solace whatsoever.

---

“Do you really work for the Court of Canterlot?” A yellow-coated filly with hollow eyes and a frazzled half-mane blinked.

Harmony glanced down from where she was leaning against her lonesome corner of the ward. “That depends.” She glanced at the filly's moth-eaten cutie mark of a horseshoe silhouetted against a brilliant sun. “Do you like dancing in the afternoon sunlight, Miss... ?”

“Heehee... 'Suntrot,'” the little girl introduced herself with a brief, hacking cough. She gave a brave smile, complete with sparkling green eyes: “And I've lived in Dredgemane all my life. There isn't much sunlight here to dance in.”

“Yeah... Well... Erm... ” Harmony smiled awkwardly. “Maybe... uh... that just means your talent will be found someplace where there's plenty of sunlight!”

“That's what my parents always told me.” The little filly wheezed and nodded. “As soon as I get better, I wanna go someplace really bright! Like Fillydelphia! I heard it's always sunny there.”

“Where are your parents, Suntrot?” It wasn't until Harmony had finished that inquistion that she winced at herself.

“They're in another part of Stonehaven,” Suntrot effortlessly replied.

Harmony blinked, not expecting that. “They are?”

“Mmmhmmm. Nurse Angel Cake says that they're sick too, but it's a different kind of sick. I miss them terribly,” Suntrot muttered, but followed with another courageous smile. “I look forward to seeing them again. Auntie Pinkie Pie says that there's nothing more rewarding than partying with your parents. When we're together again, I plan to party all night long... ” She added with a mischievous whisper. “Even past curfew!”

Harmony nodded. “Pinkie Pie has a lot of things to say to you kids, doesn't she?”

“Mmmhmmm. It's nice to listen to her, even if she doesn't make much sense. Which is a lot of the time. Heeheehee-Hckkk!” Suntrot coughed hard, nearly collapsing.

Nurse Angel Cake shuffled tactfully over and guided the little foal towards her bed on the far side of the ward. “There there, Suntrot. You've been on your hooves long enough today. Pinkie Pie will visit again later this week. It's time you got some rest.”

“But... ” Suntrot coughed and tried to giggle. “I was just saying 'hi' to the lady from Canterlot.”

“Maybe she'll visit again too.”

Harmony watched with placid amber eyes. Her vision fell from Nurse Angel Cake's white coat to a bed atop which Pinkie Pie was seated, cradling a tiny blue colt who shivered in her grasp but lovingly clung to her all the same as the mare finished the trailing end of a fanciful tale.

“And so the buffalo agreed to stampede down a narrow stretch of land between the apple orchards, so that way they could enjoy their time-honored tradition while at the same time helping the Appleloosans with their seasonal fruit harvest!”

The little blue colt coughed, then chuckled. “Auntie Pinkie Pie, that's the stupidest story I ever heard.”

Several more fillies and colts gathered around the bed giggled.

“Pfft!” Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes and smirked. “Well, it's not like I wrote it, Ice Song! That's what really happened! Would you rather it have ended with the buffalos ballet-dancing in tutus?”

Ice Song smiled, his deep blue eyes thin. “Did you really dance like that in front of the stampeding herd of buffalo?”

“You're darn tootin', I did!” Pinkie grinned. “I never felt freer in my life!” She scrunched her brow in thought. “Except for that one time when I was a little filly visiting my Auntie Marble Cake and I learned the hard way that 'watering the cacti' actually involved a water hose.”

“You must have looked silly being charged by buffalo in that dress.”

“No sillier than the buffalo were who charging me! I can't imagine what was in their big bulky heads! 'Grrrrr! I'm going to trample that mare and her dress to the ground because I'm blinded by pain and rage... also tumbleweeds.' Snkkt—Heeheehee! You ever wonder where a buffalo goes to the bathroom? Anyplace where there's not a rattlesnake! Hiyooo!”

The obligatory giggles erupted after that. Inkessa cleared her throat as she wandered by with a tray of medicine. “Seriously, Pinkamena. Must you?”

“I must, Inkie! For whenever these kids go to visit the desert, they gotta check the outhouses for rattlesnakes! Do you hear that, children? Don't let the snakes get ya where Gultophine split ya!”

“Heeheehee... ” Ice Song giggled, then navigated a forest of coughs before smiling and nuzzling Pinkie's shoulder. “Tell us more about the Appleloosan train ride, Auntie Pinkie Pie... ”

“Ooooh! That's a fun one! I'll start it off with a riddle! 'How many ponies and baby dragons does it take to shove an apple tree into a caboose?' I'll give you a hint: the answer doesn't include a certain lazy namby-pamby unicorn who talks like a vampire!”

More giggles. Inkessa rolled her violet eyes with a helpless smile and rolled along. The room's shadows doubled as the overcast gray light outside drowned under a gathering darkness of evening. Harmony wasn't entirely sure how long this visitation was yet to last, but she suddenly lacked the energy to find out.

With the stealthy grace of a future scavenger, the last pony shuffled out of the room and quietly... quietly exited into to the dim hallway beyond.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Just one floor, Harmony reasoned to herself.

The hospital was a large place, but her anchorage to Pinkie Pie was feasibly larger. Still, she didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. Harmony wanted time alone. She just needed some time alone. The time traveler was short of breath, as if that dense room full of sickly yet ecstatic children had starved her of all Entropan strength.

She sighed as she sauntered down a series of concrete stairs and leveled onto the third floor of the Stonehaven Sanitarium. It was here that the hospital's name made itself obvious to her blinking amber eyes. Lining a long, long hallway was a solid sheet of glass that looked into an enclosed waiting room. Several chairs, tables, and benches were set up inside the sterile place, and there were many barred windows flanking the bright white-washed walls. Inside, several lifeless ponies shuffled, garbed in gray fatigues from head to hooves. Their faces had distant looks, as if they were born on different planets along Epona's sorrowful exodus. They belonged there in body, but hardly in spirit. Not even in the eyes of trolls did the last pony remember seeing such soulless ennui.

Trotting up to the glass barrier, Harmony squinted. From beyond the pane, she watched as ponies shuffled in aimless circles around concrete support pillars. Others sat with slumped hooves over benches and chairs. A few even stood still as statues, staring blindly into a bricklaid corner. One pony with a purple mane shuffled her hooves in a numb charade, as if flipping through the pages of an invisible book before her dilated eyes. All the while, orderlies in blue fatigues guarded the far doors of the place, looking just as apathetic and cold as the many militia ponies whom Harmony had spotted lining the ascending steps to Haymane's office.

One pair of patients in particular caught her eye. Both ponies—a mare and a stallion—were of yellow-coated hue, and their eyes hung in emerald orbs of lethargy as they stared at the same invisible spot of a polished white table in between them. The longer she stared at them, the clearer a little filly's voice coughed into the shallow recesses of the last pony's ears, so that it echoed off of the pair's identical faces with a haunting air of familiarity.

“Suntrot?” Harmony murmured to herself and squinted harder. “No way. Could they be her—?”

A door squeaked open behind Harmony. An orange unicorn with a shattered horn and wearing a black jacket walked into a broom closet and came out a moment later in blue fatigues. “Good evening,” he muttered in a cold, snorting breath.

“Hey there—” Harmony blindly nodded. An explosive blink, and she spun to gawk at him. “Mr. Vimbert?”

“That's my name. Don't wear it out, or I'll wear your face out.”

“What in the holy heck are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” He briefly grumbled at her with an incredulous frown. The brown-maned unicorn pulled a cart full of cleaning equipment out from the closet and rolled it into the hallway. “I work here. What productive crap have you done with your day, Miss Harmony?”

“You remember my name?”

“Don't stress your words unless there's a good reason.” He whipped out a bucket full of sudsy water and dipped a mop into it with two hooking forelimbs. “Anyways, it's hard to forget somepony who's hanging out with a soul like Miss Pie voluntarily.”

“Er... I guess that makes sense.” Harmony glanced from the unicorn janitor's mopping and back towards the patients lingering beyond the glass barrier. “Still, I didn't expect to see a gentlecolt like you here.”

“Why?” Vimbert muttered lifelessly while polishing the black-and-white tile. “Because my idea of a good time is spent wasted in a bar, drowning in alcohol and misery? Trust me, lady, this is the absolute perfect place for a pony like me. Give it a few years, and I may even be on the other side of the glass.”

“What are they doing in there?” A little foal inside of the last pony murmured aloud.

“What's anypony doing here? Something is rotten in Dredgemane. This place isn't just a grave for a deceased god; it has swallowed up more lives than an Equestrian census can count. It goes without saying that a lot of those deaths are acted out alive. Those are the souls that you see beyond you right now, Miss Harmony. This city is full of poor afflicted waifs who don't have the good sense to roll over and call it quits. When wise ol' Haymane discovers the likes of such poor saps who have 'fallen from the grace of Gultophine,' they end up here. Pity them all you like, it won't do them any good.”

“Are they... ” Harmony gulped. “Are they actually diseased?”

“Sure as heck looks like it to me. I suppose nopony but them could tell you for sure.” He dunked the mop again and worked over another patch of tile floor. “Alas, there's the crutch of the equine mind. Who are we to bore into it? Perish the thought!” The unicorn's voice took a bitter, caustic pitch. “Let's just imprison the bodies that those minds are attached to inside brick walls as impervious as the skulls that resist reason!” Vimbert took a deep breath through a bitterly grinning pair of jaws. “Ohhhhhh yes, no need to drink whatsoever... ”

“I gather you've been in this town for a long time.”

“You think? If I had any lick of sense, I'd just leave. If those ponies inside were lucky, they'd have left before this town got to them as well.”

“Then why don't you?”

“And what?” A squeaking sound. Harmony glanced back to witness Vimbert stealthily dragging a silver flask out of a pocket in his fatigues, taking a swig, and hiding it back where it came from. “Should I rid this city of my good charm?” He burped and mopped. “Not everypony is as stupidly excited about living in the moment as your bubbly friend upstairs.”

Harmony glanced at the ceiling, then blinked back towards the broken unicorn. “What do you know about Pinkamena?”

“I know that she's the daughter to Mayor Haymane's lifelong buddy, which is the only thing giving that brat a license to do whatever the heck she wants during the infrequent, manic visits she pays this town. They should build an entire new Stonehaven. One wing will be for her, the other for that smelly cretin she nonsensically idolizes.”

“Who, you mean Brevis?”

“No, I meant Stone Colt Steve Oatsten—Who do you think?”

“Jeez, sorry. I guess I failed 'Homeless Donkey 101.'”

“He's a mule,” Vimbert said. “And—heh—you're more right than you think.”

“About what?”

“I used to teach ponies more than just how to dodge a left hook,” Vimbert muttered, a slight twinkle alighting his blue eyes. It was all too swiftly replaced by a trademark, bloodshot mosaic. “Fat lot of good that would do in this town. If there's anything I'll give Quarrington's kid credit for, it's that she knows the only progress in this world is outside this place, no matter what Haymane thinks. Alas... ” In a cold breath, he then slurred, “'So it is the world began, and so it is the world shall end. '”

Harmony smirked. “Whatever you said would be ten times more poignant if you didn't quote it so boredly.”

“Wrong.”

“Hmm?”

“'Boredly' isn't a proper adverb.”

Harmony blinked. “Yeah, so... ?”

“So clean out your mouth, Celestia-dang it!” The shattered horn shook on the end of his head. “You're a servant of Canterlot, aren't you? Learn to talk in the royal voice!”

“Should I be taking notes, or is this just the vodka talking?”

“No, ma'am. The vodka would talk you straight through the nearest window if you let it.”

“Weeeee!” Pinkie slid down the banister of the stairwell and suddenly plopped down onto the tile floor between the two. “Whoop! Hey, Bert! My my, you smell like a bottle of bleach!”

“Screw you too, creampuff.”

“Heehee! Ohhhh, I love you, candle-stick head!” Pinkie turned to smile at Harmony. “All done here! It's the kids' bedtime. Inkie will be home in about three hours. So, where to, Har-Har?”

“Yeah—Uh—One second, Pinkie.” Harmony pushed her anchor aside and trotted half-a-step towards the unicorn. “Mister Vimbert, in all seriousness, are the ponies in this Sanitarium actually crazy?”

He looked up with a sigh, blue eyes blinking lethargically like so many souls beyond the glass. “One of us is an alcoholic janitor, another is a giggling diabetes explosion waiting to happen, and the third is a clueless, royal freeloader in a Winter-Wrap Up vest. Tell me, Miss Harmony, who isn't crazy?”

“But who deserves to be locked up and who's in here against his or her will?”

“Who ever asks to be born into this maniacal claptrap we call a world?” Vimbert shelved the bucket and mop onto the cart and wheeled it down towards the far end of the hallway. “Ladies, let madness render unto madness what it can, regardless of what it will. Me? I've got bits to earn. That's the only thing keeping me 'sane' while floozies like Brevis should be shackled. If you'll excuse me, there’s an asylum that needs to be kept sparkly clean. Celestia knows, somepony in Equestria has to mop up after this 'masterpiece.'”

Harmony gazed worriedly after the orange figure. “I think I'm starting to figure it out. This town is full of two kinds of ponies. Some, like sunshine over there, are righteously indignant. While those of Breathstar's and Haymane's ilk are indignantly righteous.”

“Where does a 'floozie' like my mentor Brevis fit in?”

The last pony glanced at Pinkie. With a plastic grin, she dripped forth:“Miss Pie, the two of you should write your own dictionary and then let me know.”

“Woohoo! I'm naming my dictionary 'Demetrius!'”

“Yeah, you do that.” Harmony sighed and stared at the coldly lit lengths of the sterile building. “This place just doesn't feel right at all.”

“What's not right about a place that's built to help ponies get better?”

“Miss Pie... ” Harmony spun back to frown at her anchor. “This hospital is a prison! Just take a look! Who knows what's wrong with those ponies? Maybe nothing's wrong! Whatever the case, it's obvious to me that this building was only meant for housing them somewhere away from the general populace of Dredgemane!”

“For whose safety?”

“Does it matter? The same goes for your beloved kids!” The last pony pointed a hoof straight up towards the floor above them. “There's no known cure for infernite poisoning!”

“Pfft—Everypony knows that!”

“Do they?” A pained orphan wretched to the surface of the pegasus' Entropan face. “Miss Pie, those kids aren't likely to get any better! As a matter of fact, all they're doing is waiting!”

“Waiting? Like waiting for their parents? Because Suntrot says all the time that—”

“You've got be a naïve jerk to not understand the implication here! Miss Pie, they're going to die young and they're gonna die miserable!”

“Hmmm... ” Pinkie Pie rubbed her chin with a tapping hoof. “Poor, sick kids... an incurable disease... lots of waiting... misery... ” She glanced up with a bizarrely placid expression. “Guess I can't argue with you on the 'dying' part.”

“Exactly—”

“But the 'miserable' part... ” Pinkie's smile silkily resurfaced. “Seems like there are ponies around who can do stuff that matters with the one curable thing those kids have got! It'd be a crime to do nothing there, don'tcha think, Har-Har?”

Harmony stared past that, twitching, as if a part of her brain broke while trying to send a message to her heart.

“Woe is the future of Dredgemane!” Pinkie trotted a shuffling circle around Harmony. She sighed a deep fuchsia breath into the lengths of the sterile, checkerboard malaise. “So much icky depression and death and infernite and Immolatia and grumpy janitors surround our lives!”

“Exactly... ” Harmony grimaced. “I think we need to—”

“I know!” Pinkie beamed in the pegasus' face. “How about a party?!”

The last pony spastically blinked. “I... er... what... huh... derp?”

---

“Wooo! Wooo! Uhh! Yeah! Shake your plots like you've got the trots! Dig it! Ungh!”

These immortal words emanated from a pink earth pony as she danced wildly beside a record player. The device blasted forth a rhythmically repetitive dance beat across the lengths of a barren, lantern-lit barn situated on the far northwest end of Dredgemane. Several scores of ponies Pinkie's age and younger were gathered there. Despite the relatively dull nature of their garments, the young citizens exercised a remarkably natural spirit of revelry as they found themselves mimicking the fluffy-maned pony's enthusiasm.

“Woo! Hi, and welcome to Pinkie's Superterrific Magical Sonic Hyper Turbo Dance Beat!” Pinkie waved enthusiastically while another group of equine teenagers filed nervously into the loudly throbbing domain. “Feel free to add more adjectives and smiles to the occasion, ya party animals!”

“We... Uhm... ” One of the mares in the shivering group pensively murmured, “This... This is a party?”

“Well, it certainly isn't a Tuppawhinnie Convention!” Pinkie giggled, then gasped wildly into the mare's wilting expression. “You mean to tell me that you've never been to a party before?!”

“You're in luck!” An older teenage stallion in brown work duds waved from a punch table at the far end of the barn. A table of Marble Cake's finest treats had been set up, and several youthful visitors orbited the assortment of plates happily. “When Pinkamena Pie's in town, it's like the Dawn of the First Age all over again!”

“Make yourselves at home!” Pinkie shoved the jittery young souls into the fray. A brief deadpan: “Don't eat the yellow hay; I'll explain later.” She spun and cartwheeled back towards the record player. “Woohoo! The fun don't stop 'til the Sun and Moon drop!” The filly turned the volume up on the blasting speakers.

The last pony winced. The apocalyptic wallflower bravely trotted her way towards the warbling noise-makers and roared into the midst of sound waves. “Miss Pie! Can I have a word with you?!”

“What?”

“I said, can I have a word with you?!”

“What?!”

“I said—Oh, for the love of oats.” She grasped her teeth over Pinkie's tail and drag-drag-dragged her beneath the drowning mass of a hayloft. “Can I have a word with you?”

“What?”

“I—Miss Pie!”

“Heeheehee! You're such a sap, Har-Har! I have a mind to drain you and make syrup.”

“Miss Pie, do you ever turn off?”

“Hmmmm... Dress me in a monk's robe and bathe me in manure. Then I'm bound to be a turn-off to somepony!”

“Dang it, I'm serious!”

“Heeheehee! So am I! Seriously groovy, girl!”

“Heeeeey! Pinkamena!” A passing bunch of stallions—the same who were dragging a wagon earlier past the general goods store—waved at Pinkie before making their way towards the punch table. “Crazy party, girl! Happens only once a year, all cuz of you!”

“Heehee! Yeah!” Pinkie grinned and waved back. “I'm like the flu season! Only I make you cough up gumdrops instead of phlegm!”

“Does... uhm... ” Harmony shuffled with immense uncomfortableness as she gazed across the sea of strange youngsters in Dredgemane gear enjoying un-Dredgemane euphoria. “Does the City Council know about this?”

“About what? Flu season? Yeesh, you should have seen the line my sister and Angel Cake had to single-hoofedly manage last winter!”

“You know what I mean. I've seen enough of what this city has to offer to know that you're treading a very dangerous line.”

“Is that like a conga line? Cuz I've actually written down an itinerary for once.”

“If Mayor Haymane discovers that you're having this party, I swear, he's gonna lose another leg.”

“Really, Har-Har. Who made you president of his fan club?”

“Searching for the Royal Grand Biv would be a heck of a lot more productive than... than... than whatever the heck we're doing right now.”

“But I thought, no less than twelve hours ago, stargazing was important!”

“Well... Uhm... It is... ”

“Make up your mind, girl!” Pinkie spun up and shuffled a few two-legged dance moves in place before leaning smoothly against a wooden support beam. “Everypony in Ponyville calls me 'random,' and I used to believe them! But you—Woo! You take the cake, Har-Har! You're—like—the super sparkling queen of random!”

“What? I... I... ” The last pony seethed. “I so am not random!”

“Heeheehee—Oh really?”

“I have my priorities straight! Can you say the same about yourself?”

“One pony's priorities are another pony's whimsy! Sometimes, a pony's priorities are that same pony's whimsy!” Pinkie's face lit up as she cartwheeled over towards a table of party favors and served a dish of cupcakes towards a passing group of young mares. “At least some of us are willing to admit it about ourselves! Heeheehee! What have you got to say?”

“I take my priorities seriously! Do you take yours?”

“Mmmm—And what priorities may I have, Har-Har?”

“Is that rhetorical or are you actually asking me?”

“Do I look like I have a broken horn on my head? Hehehe!”

“Well, okay then,” the last pony spoke above the warbling music beat. “What about those kids earlier?”

“Heee... Such darling little angels, don't you think? Woo! Listen to me! I was channeling Fluttershy for a moment there! I swear, sometimes it's like we share the same voice!”

“You care for the patients in the ward where your sister works, right?” Harmony pointed. “Is it just because you have a soft spot for suffering children?”

“Of course I wanna ease their suffering! Isn't that the whole point? Ever since I first visited my sister's place of practice, my heart went out to those little scamps. I haven't missed a chance to visit them since!”

“And obviously they adore their 'Auntie Pinkie Pie.' But that's not the heart of the matter. It's been my experience, Miss Pie, that nopony does something out of complete, blind altruism.” The last pony took a breath. When she blinked, a gray Wasteland briefly lit up with a new Sun and then was dark again. Harmony's amber eyes reopened to the banal party before her. “There must be some special satisfaction that you get from helping those kids see through their bouts with Immolatia.”

“What are you now, a psycho?”

“Er... Don't you mean a 'psychiatrist?'”

“Just what are you getting at, Har-Har?”

“Your mother, Miss Pie,” Harmony said in a flat voice. “She's got it. Inkie said it earlier; your mother's suffering from infernite poisoning. Somehow, I'm willing to bet she's no better off than those kids. Only... ” She leaned her head forward in earnest. “Does your dad let you visit your mom as much as Stonehaven lets you visit the children?”

Pinkie quietly placed the plate of treats down. She glanced over at Harmony, and when she did so the same smile was still there, only it was lower than the tone of music that pulsed loudly around them like a Goddess' summoned heartbeat.

“There are many crimes that can be committed in this town, Har-Har,” Pinkie said in a brief bout of calmness. If Harmony squinted, she could have imagined the mare's mane smoothly framing her face like a pink puddlestain against the Dredgemane grayness. “But I'd be a sour-grapes-suckling grumpy-pants if I let the shadows of this place keep me from wanting to share what ponies are born to spread.”

“What's that? Sensibility?”

“Pfft! As if!” Pinkie backflipped, bent backwards, and grinned upside-down into Harmony's face. “Joy, ya loon! Heeheehee!”

Harmony was hardly amused. “There's joy, Miss Pie,” she muttered coldly. “And then there's ignorance.”

“And which do you think Inkie's kids deserve more of? Or Mommy for that matter?” Pinkie Pie spun around and frolicked into the center of the barn, rejoining the thick of the fanfare. “Or all of Dredgemane's craziest and most eligible youngsters?! Woo! Yeah! Shake it!”

“The horribly tragic thing about 'joy and ignorance'... ” The last pony shouted into the cacophonous nether of living souls. “... is that they're sometimes one and the same!” Several Dredgemane youngsters booed and hissed at her. Harmony frowned, her ears drooping.

“Take a chill pill, Har-Har!” Pinkie giggled. “We're just taking one night in the week to party like it's the eve of the Thousandth Year! Live a little! It's not like Dredgemane's finest is gonna come busting down the barn door at any second!” That uttered, Pinkie suddenly froze as her ears flopped, her eyelids flapped, and her knees shook. “Oh poo.”

With a crash of thunder, the barn doors busted open. The entire dancing crowd gasped as the record scratched and the air was filled with deathly silencing following four guardsponies marching into the place. The quartet of Dredgemane militia glanced at the scene, but when they saw nothing but teenage and young adult citizens frozen in mid-prance, they removed their helmets and blinked incredulously.

“Really? I mean, really?”

“Pinkamena,” another groaned. “Should have known.”

“Oh dear Elektra... ” a stallion whimpered as he peeled himself from the shivering forelimbs of a rosy-cheeked mare. He wobbled into the center of the scared-stiff crowd. “My Pa's gonna kill me.”

“Your Pa's going to kill you?” another youngster mewled. “My Pa's going to kill me; my Ma's going to chop me up into little pieces!”

“OhdearCelestiaOhdearCelestiaOhdeadCelestia!” a random mare hyperventilated.

The entire barn filled with a quivering crescendo of horrified murmurs and panicked whispers.

“Alright, Alright!” one guard groaned, waving a hoof. “All of you, calm down. We had a complaint about the noise. You had us scared that a rampant group of Diamond Dogs were trying to blow the place up or something. The good news? Nopony's going to get blown up. The bad news? Yes—All of your Ma's and Pa's are going to kill you.”

A deep groan fell through the wilted crowd.

“First thing's first.” The guard whipped out a scroll and pen. “All of you have severely broken curfew. So, on behalf of Haymane's regulations, we have to get your names. Don't everypony volunteer at once—”

“Curfew?” Harmony stepped up, blinking.

“You?!” One guard balked at the last pony. The officer was a very familiar figure, none other than the young pony that had escorted the time traveler to Haymane's lofty office several hours earlier. “What the heck gives?! The Mayor hires you to chase down the Biv, and you're here partying past curfew like a lunatic?”

“Help me out, somepony! I'm new to town!” Harmony glanced through the crowd. “Just when is Dredgemane's curfew?”

“Uhm—Like—Nine o'clock?” A mare off to the side stirred in her gown, digging a shy hoof into the hay. “T-Two hours ago?”

“Two hours ago?!” Harmony flung a snarl into her anchor's face.

“Eheheheh! Ooops?” Pinkie sweated with a nervous grin.

“Have you ever wondered, Miss Pie, what an exploding zeppelin sounds like?!” The time traveler raised an Entropan hoof. “How about we educate all of these youngsters with your spleen as an example!”

“Now come on,” the lead guard grumbled, waving the pen in his hoof. “Let's not add 'aggravated assault' to my laundry list tonight—”

“Silverstone?” a stallion muttered from a cluster of his friends in disbelief.

The guard glanced through the corner of his eyes, blinking. “Harpstrings?”

“Dude—What gives?”

“Dude—I'm doing my job! I volunteered for the militia weeks ago!”

“Cut us a break here! Come on, I helped you with your algebra homework, didn't I?”

“I can't! You think I don't stand to have my Ma and Pa kill me too?”

“Look, pal, you're making things awkward!”

“Me?! Dude, you guys are the ones signing a death warrant by partying all night with Miss Prissy Dialysis here!”

“And if you didn't have all of that spiffy armor that Sladeburn tossed your way, you'd be doing the same!”

“Oh please, I've got better things to do. By the way, nice job getting to first stable with Mister Leafcanter's daughter over there, Mister Crapanova.”

“Nnnngh!” The stallion from the crowd leaped at the guard. The militia pony let loose a foalish shriek and helplessly crumbled under the weight of the pouncing ruffian. The two young stallions tossed and turned in the throes of each other's violent limbs. The crowd watched in stupefied amazement, including the other three guards.

Harmony blinked crookedly at the scene. Her gaze wandered from the fight, to the crowd, back to the fight, then finally onto Pinkie Pie. The brightly colored pony shrugged, grinned, and held up a snack bowl. “Popcorn, anypony?”

“Knock it off!” The time traveler dove into the fight and split apart the two teenagers with strong Entropan limbs. “I mean it! This isn't worth it! None of this is! First off, I'm sorry that I let this all happen! I had no idea about the curfew!”

“Yeah, I bet you didn't!” a bruised and frazzled guard hissed at her.

“Dude, I'd not mess with her. She's been in the army,” a random pony chirped.

“The next pony who comments on the beret gets to eat it!” the last pony snarled, her black bangs a frazzled mess. “Secondly... ” She frowned at the young stallion leaning into his friends. “Whether or not you respect your parents or Haymane or the Dredgemane Council or Goddess Gultophine herself—I don't friggin' care—let's not act like animals! And thirdly.” She glanced over towards the ruffled guard, let out a weathered exhale, and raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Seriously? I mean... Seriously? How old are you, kid?”

The guard nervously shifted, attempting in vain to straighten out his crumpled scroll. “I'll be getting my net gun this Friday.”

“How young is Haymane enlisting for the militia these days? Is he that desperate?”

“Well, fat load of good you're doing to catch the Biv!” The guard frowned.

“Yeah!” another shouted.

Harmony hissed through wincing teeth, shuffling uncomfortably. “I guess you deserve an explanation. I... erm... I-I was just about to—”

“We were drawing the Royal Grand Biv out!” Pinkie Pie popped up into view, grinning wide. “Isn't Har-Har sneaky?!”

“You were doing what now?” The guard stared wildly at the pink mare.

“Isn't this pegasus from Canterlot brilliant?!” Pinkie side-hugged her and patted the time traveler's amber-streaked mane. “How like a total brainiac from Celestia's palace to figure that a bright and raving party is just the thing needed to summon the Royal Grand Biv out of rainbow-colored hiding!” She blinked her blue eyes towards the night's sky beyond the open barn doors and suddenly brightened. “Oooooh!” She pointed straight out. “There she is now!”

“Oh yeah right.” Harmony rolled her eyes. She gazed numbly over the guards' manes. “Like the Biv would just happen to show up right when you're—Whoah!” She gasped, her copper jaw dropping towards the floor.

There, in perfect sight, was a multi-colored streak of an equine figure scampering from rooftop-to-rooftop over the buildings outside. A great roar of excitement and wonder hummed over the heads of all the young souls in attendance.

“Holy horseshoes!” One of the guards rattled in his armor, his young eyes twitching. “Like—What do we do?”

“Are you kidding me?” Harmony hissed and jolted towards the doors. “We catch that friggin' punk! Pinkie!”

“Coming, Har-Har!” Pinkie impossibly galloped backwards. She paused to wave, standing in the frame of the barn doors. “Sorry to cut the party short, my Dredgies! But—I mean, come on! Chasing the Grand Biv?! Heeheee! This night is so unbelievably fun—” A copper hoof reached back and yanked her away by the neck. “Yeep!”

A quartet of bumbling guards followed suit. A curtain of silence fell in their wake. Every remaining pony exchanged glances, then fled for what was left of their fragile social lives.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A breathless Harmony galloped through the cobblestone streets of Dredgemane, her hooves clattering over the endless names of dead ponies. She gazed up into the overcast night sky and was stabbed by the sight of twinkling stars and a half-lit moon. She was ever so briefly torn between two goals, until one in particular swept violently overhead with a trail of prismatic madness.

“Wow, she's fast!” Pinkie Pie bounced athletically beside Harmony. “Gonna be hard to get her from way down here!” In mid-gallop, she blinked her blue eyes the last pony's way. “I hate to be a back-saddle driver, Har-Har, but are you gonna use your wings at some point?!”

“Not if I can use my brains first,” Harmony murmured aloud, glancing at each building that lingered in the roof-hopping figure's path. “Miss Pie,” she managed between pants, “You've seen the Biv in action before. Would you guess that it's galloping towards or away from downtown?”

“Well, right now, she's looking really-really sure of herself, so I'm guessing she's heading into the center of town to do something insanely awesome!”

“Then what's the best building that will take her there?!”

“Oooh! I know! The Dredgemane Town Hall! Dead ahead!” Pinkie pointed with her fluffy mane towards a three-story building about four rooftops away from where the Biv was presently scampering, piercing the night with flowing bands of multi-colored pomp.

“Town Hall... Town Hall... Town Hall... ” Harmony murmured, her amber eyes squinting over the courtyard lying before the granite structure in question. She saw claustrophobic, night-shrouded streets almost entirely devoid of citizens. Then, in the flickering blaze of several lampposts, she spotted an abandoned cart full of rocks positioned beside a very familiar statue with its sparkling fountain fixed. “It's so stupid.” She smirked to herself. “Of course it has to work!”

“How do I have to work?”

“Not you—Nnngh.” Harmony shook her snout, skidded to a stop, and pointed at the cart. “Point that towards the alleyway to the left of the Town Hall building!”

“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie shuffled over and pushed the entirety of her weight into the upturned drawbeams of the wagon.

In the meantime, Harmony leaped high and clambered halfway up the granite figure of Gultophine.

“Hnnngh... So... Many... Rocks... ” Pinkie hissed and sweated as she slowly swiveled the wagon so that the front of it faced the alleyway. “Positively rockalicious... !”

“Tell me when the Biv is about to make its leap for the town hall!” Harmony shouted down, breathlessly climbing up to the mane of Gultophine.

Pinkie glanced up, blue eyes twitching. The distant rainbow figure flickered against the cloudy Dredgemane night. It was three roofs away from the Town Hall. Two. One—

“Well?” Harmony grunted forth, hanging off of the alicorn's stone horn.

“Now, Har Har!”

“Alley—” Harmony fell down and landed with the full weight of her Entropan body over the wagon's drawbeams. “—Oop!” She roared as the entire volume of rocks in the back of the wagon flew like a catapult's volley towards the air above the alleyway.

Just at that moment, the Biv was springing through the night, its cloak flailing behind it like rainbow wings. In slow motion hilarity, it turned its glinting goggles aside at the last second to greet a billowing cloud of rocks overtaking it. In a cacophonous clatter of stones and limbs, the vandal was knocked out of the air and tossed violently into the dimly-lit street below.

“Ooooh... ” Pinkie Pie blinked as Harmony dismounted the upended wagon beside her. “Can a pony actually taste her own rainbow?”

“If by 'rainbow' you mean 'just desserts,' then sure!” Harmony smirked proudly as a wave of guards emptied from the far corners of the city canyons and caught up with the scene, gathering about the two. She marched with Pinkie towards the sudden pile of rocks lying in the middle of the alleyway. “Now, let's get this lovely chapter in our lives done so I can map some friggin' stars already.”

“What were you saying earlier about priorities?”

“Oh hush.”

The two ponies and the many guards formed a thick circle around the unassuming pile of rocks. Several young ponies in armor rattled nervously.

“Ohhhhh jeez Oh jeez Oh jeez.”

“Is... Is he dead?”

“Of course she is! Did you see how she totally bit that wave of tossed rocks?”

“Who launched those by the way? It sure as heck wasn't me!”

“I think it was the Canterlotlian Pegasus that Haymane hired—”

“Could everypony just put a cork in it for one second?” Harmony grumbled as she cautiously approached the pile of rocks like it was the ashes of a defeated phoenix. “I gotta listen for any signs of—”

A volcanic burst: the Royal Grand Biv exploded out of the pile of heavy rocks and shook its entire body from masked snout to metallic coatails. The torchlight reflected a prismatic kaleidoscope of madness from the mysterious figure's multicolored coat. Several guards jolted backwards, raising pikes and net-guns in apprehension as the equine figure snorted and exhaled misty vapors into the cold air of the canyon night.

“Woooo! So awesome!” Pinkie beamed. “What did I tell ya?! She's full of tricks! Just like Rainbow Dash!”

Harmony held her back and fearlessly frowned the cretin's way. “Royal Grand Biv? On behalf of the authority granted me by Celestia's Court of Canterlot, you're under arrest for vandalism and disturbing the peace of Dredgemane. Now that that's out of the way, are we gonna do this the easy way, or—?”

The Biv glared at the last pony, ruby goggles glinting soullessly. With a flicking movement, its rainbow cloak straightened into two waves of serrated blades that glinted in the torchlight.

“—the hard way?” Harmony gulped. “Hoboy.”

“Uhhhh... ” Pinkie Pie made a pouty face. “I don't remember Dashie doing that trick.”

“Get down!” Harmony shoved her yelping anchor to the cobblestone as the Royal Grand Biv flew at them, slicing a fan of blades madly through the Dredgemane night.

Comments

[The Great Turnip]

Wow, you must be Gultophine, as you've breathed so much life into Dredgemane and its citizens.

Hahaha...no. I'll leave the jokes to Pinkie.

[ShimmeryLuna]

Royal=Roy=Red, orange, yellow
Grand=G=Green
Biv=Biv=Blue, indigo, violet.
=
R.A.I.N.B.O.W

It's all about connections, people.
Also I too have a firm grasp on who it may be.

[Future Regret]

I say a admirer of RD

[Aatxe360]

Hmm. I might be having second thoughts on who it may be. In the prequel to this arc, wasn't the cloak found in the basement of the bar?

[Prismic]

Chapter 38 at long last! Now we see a little deeper into the heart and troubles of Dredgemane...