> Equestria: Infinite (Bioshock)
>  by ThatMrSomeGuy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: The Origins of Modern Equestria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The midnight moon glistened over the quiet and peaceful serene Ponyville. All was still. All was calm. Everything was fine.
*CLANK* *THUD* *CRASH*
Everywhere, except the library, where a purple Alicorn scattered through the remains of the once organized bookshelves. The floor seemed to be buried in the hills upon hills of books. They were flung across the room as the restless Alicorn peeked for the smallest detail on anything she was looking for. One by one, she skimmed every volume in the library.
"No. No. No. No. No."
The hopelessness finally got to her and she threw the countless books she held in every direction.
"Why isn't there anything about it here!?"
"Why isn't what here, Twilight?"
The tireless Alicorn turned around to see she woke up her dragon assistant, Spike. Spike, however, got used to this routine. Twilight becomes paranoid about something she can't figure out. She becomes determined to figure it out. The longer it takes, the crazier she gets. Spike thought that Twilight would be done with her oversampled study time now that she was an Alicorn. He said to himself, Good thing to know some things never change. He started picking up some of the books while Twilight explained why she had to ruin (for the 14th time) his almost complete dream where he found the largest gem pile in all of Equestria. At least this time, she managed not to wake up half of Ponyville with me.
"I was going over my checklist on checking topics I'd look for in history. Then I came across one: 'What happened between Hearth's Warming Day and Princess Celestia's Rule Over Equestria'. Sounds like an easy topic right?"
Silence. Though Spike thought that statement was rhetorical, he gazed at her under-slept eyes, now bulging and twitching for a response. She needed him to answer it. 
"Right?"
Twilight jumped, "WRONG! I've been searching every book in my library on SOMETHING that fit that time frame! But guess what Spike?"
"You couldn't find anythi-" 
"I couldn't find anything! ANYTHING!"
Uh-oh. Twilight is starting to go crazy. Gotta find a way to calm her down. "How about we ask the princess about it. I mean, she was there when it all happened. Right?"
Twilight recoiled. She considered why she even needed to throw everything in the library floor looking for a lost story when she could get it from her mentor herself, Princess Celestia. Twilight's eyes calmed as she accepted Spike's suggestion. Spike noticed and sighed in relief. He didn't think his plan would actually work.  
"You're right Spike. What better way to research Princess Celestia's rule over Equestria than Princess Celestia herself? Spike, take a letter, to the princess."
With quill and paper at the ready, Twilight began her request:

Dear Princess Celestia,


 *     *     *


The now well rested Twilight woke up quietly and uninterrupted. As she stretched, she looked around. Spike wasn't in his bed. Perhaps I slept longer than I wanted to. That was not often the case. But then again, Twilight woke up later than Spike. Now that was saying something.
As she made her way to the other rooms in the library, Twilight heard a loud belch and saw a green flash of light. His claws grabbed hold of a piece of paper.
"Celestia responded!"
Twilight telepathically snatched the letter from Spike. Her heart was racing as she glued her eyes to the text from the princess:

My dearest most faithful student Twilight Sparkle,

Any subject relating to the origins of modern-day Equestria is unfortunately classified. However, because of your recent coronation, I am allowing you to hear the story, firsthoof, from me. Please bring you and you alone to the castle to receive further instructions. Keep in mind you might not return to Ponyville for a few days. My royal escort chariot will arrive noon today.

-Princess Celestia 

Twilight slowly curved up the sides of her cheeks as she read. She became unable to contain her excitement. Twilight sprung up in the air and shouted in delight upon reading it.
Twilight couldn't believe she was allowed to be able to hear top secret information about the establishment of her country. At that moment. Twilight stopped mid-jump. Something didn't seem right. She never once heard about confidential historical events, especially regarding such a huge gap in political formation. Everything unknown in Equestrian history was either a myth or missing documents. What is so important about keeping this all a secret? Twilight's joy quickly turned to confusion. What was her mentor hiding?
"Spike, what time is it?"
"10:15. Why Twilight?"
"The letter says the guards will pick me up at 12. But it also says I might not be back for a couple of days. I better take this time to say goodbye to my friends."


 *     *     *


By 11:45, Twilight was able to say her farewells to her five best friends, all of which went with her to see her departure. Everypony except Rarity. Though she wanted to go, she had little time to work on outfits for a wealthy client who traveled from Canterlot. Twilight understood the importance of the attire.

By the time the five reached the house, Twilight could see the two escorts had already made it to the library a little early. Without any time to waste, she boarded the chariot and waved to her friends until they were not even specs in the horizon.


 *     *     *


As she neared Canterlot's castle, Twilight could already see somepony waiting for her on the front courtyard. When the chariot landed, a familiar face galloped to greet her.
"Twily!"
Twilight braced herself to a full-charged hug. She was glad to see her BBBFF again. 
"Shining Armor! Its so wonderful to see you again. Shouldn't you be in the Crystal Empire? What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you the same thing. Before I could return to the Crystal Empire this morning, I've been asked from princess Celestia herself to brief a guest about a meeting with her. So how about I walk you over to where you two are going to talk."
"You mean, you're going to stay here with me and keep me company?"
Shining Armor frowned. "As much as I would want to stay, after this, I have to take the next train back to the Crystal Empire. I only stayed here to drop you off."
Twilight let out a disappointed sigh. It seems like nopony else will keep me company for the week. Well, one week with the princess wouldn't be that bad. Right then, memories of Twilight's fillyhood flooded her brain. Why should I be worried? It'll be like old times. Just the princess and me.
Twilight and Shining Armor were very quiet on their way there. As nice as it was that the two were reunited, they had been seeing each other often over the past few months. The two didn't really have much to talk about. Shining Armor led Twilight through the castle's many sets of descending stairs. The further they went down, the less other ponies there were, until it was only them two left on the hallway floor. Twilight thought, If there were any more stairs, they would belong to King Sombra. 
"Princess Celestia is in the room at the end of the hallway. Is there anything else you need before I head back?"
"No. Thank you for bringing me here."
"Just a soldier doing my duty."
With a final hug, Shining Armor started his ascent up the stairs. The eerie vibe of the underground portion of the castle's dim corridors gave Twilight a chill. The walls held protruding torches. Each step felt heavier as Twilight made her way across the stone floor. An intimidatingly large carved wooden door towered in front of the Alicorn. The figures embedded in resembled some of the worst monsters inhabiting the Everfree Forest. Alright. Here goes nothing.


 *     *     *


The door loudly creaked as Twilight slowly opened it. The room itself seemed somewhat...natural. Instead of cobbled tiles, the ground was made of soft carpet. The walls were decorated with fairly modern paintings. To top it off, the furnished sofas made Twilight feel right at home.
"Good afternoon Twilight Sparkle."
"Huh?"
Twilight refocused to the pony at the end of the room. The sudden change of scenery almost made Twilight forget about why she was here. Sure enough, Princess Celestia was sitting near the opposite wall.
"I'm so sorry Princess. I just lost focus when I saw the amazing design of this room."
Celestia simply nodded slowly. "Its alright Twilight. I refurbished it so you can get comfortable. Come sit down beside me so we can begin."
The princess's horn glowed and the door roared shut. Then, the door flashed a mirror-like barrier with hexagonal magical tiles. Twilight recognized that spell.
"A sound barrier?"
"Yes Twilight. It is for extra security."
Twilight looked confused. She didn't feel like any of the precautions were necessary. Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but could not find the words. She wouldn't dare question the authority of her princess. Twilight made her way to the nearest sofa and sat upwards.
"I understand you have many questions about how I came to power. You wish to know the truth. As much I don't wish to release this information. I trust it with you, Twilight.
"Equestria has had a dark and shallow past. Before I came to power, many ponies were doing the right things for the wrong reasons. When I came to power, it was only because of Discord. After Luna and I wielded the Elements to stop him, Equestria was in ruins. The original ponies in charge of the government died during that period of chaos. Me and my sister stepped in until the ponies had a stable government up and ready to replace us. The citizens were unable to find enough suitable replacements during their lifetimes. As they faded from existence, so did their plans. After a hundred years, everypony had accepted us as the rulers of Equestria. We've maintained this nation forever since."
Twilight could not believe what she was hearing. To think that Celestia and Luna were never meant to rule seemed ludicrous. Celestia's brief explanation of how she came to power just filled Twilight's brain with more questions.
"But the you and Luna are Alicorns! Wouldn't that alone be convincing to be fit to rule over Equestria? Its not like fate that the two of you are immortal with the gift of raising the sun and moon."
Celestia remained silent for a second. She needed to pick her next words very carefully.
"That may be so, but those tasks didn't mean much when it came to government. Though Luna and I were the only Alicorns at the time, back then, that wasn't a symbol of royalty as we see it today. We only stood as the rulers of Equestria then because Equestria would have died without able rulers. Before that, we had little political involvement. Luna and I merely raised the sun and moon."
The room remained quiet while Twilight was trying to think of more questions.  This still doesn't make sense. How could society cast away two Alicorns? Perhaps i'm thinking too far ahead. Maybe I should wind the clock back a little more.
"Princess. How were you born?"
Celestia didn't flinch when asked that question. "I suppose you should know about my origin. That story requires some insight before I tell you about what happened."
Celestia turned around and levitated a wooden box in front of her. She revealed the inside of the box: paper, sheets upon sheets of paper. The princess carefully picked up a card and held it in front of Twilight. Twilight grabbed the card herself with her own magic. It was a photograph arranged like a postcard. Wherever the place was, it had tall rectangular buildings at a wide range of heights.  Across were buildings floating on clouds. The right side of the photo was a statue of a colt. He had a biped stance and held his left hoof forward and his right hoof back, presenting the masterpiece of the floating city behind him. The text at the bottom said "Greetings from Celestia".
"Is this old Clousdale?"
Celestia briefly chuckled. "No Twilight. Cloudsdale did not exist until much after. That is the floating city of Celestia. I was named after it."
Twilight looked at the card then back to the princess, back at the card, then back to the princess again. "Why did you show me this?"
"Because Twilight, the place had more connections to me than my name. This was my birth home."
Those were the magic words to unlock the muscle's holding Twilight's jaw. Such a glamourous birthplace.  Why is it no longer here?, Twilight asked herself. After half a minute of getting her brain functioning again, Twilight asked, "What happened?"
"The story behind the floating city in the sky was that it was a symbol, a symbol of the success and virtues of Equestria. It boasted the power of a very once proud and now long-gone Equestria. However,  the city was blinded by their nationalism. Once, they violently attacked innocent griffon towns because some griffons revolted against the Equestrian territories in their land. Canterlot officials asked the leader of Celestia, Zachary Clopstock, to head home because of the trouble they caused. Clopstock refused to step down, and they seceded from Equestria."
"Where were you when this happened?"
"Me? I was in the city itself when it happened. I was... too young to understand the complexities."
Celestia passed Twilight another picture. This time it was unicorn colt. His clothing was old-fashioned and formal. "Princess, who is this?"
"That is a colt of orders. He was hired to go to Celestia, retrieve a mare, and bring her to Manehattan."
"Princess, this is wonderful and all," Twilight looked at all the stuff she had been given, "but what does this have to do with you?"
"In a minute, my faithful student. All will be revealed. To understand my past, you must first follow the story of this colt, whom, without knowing, changed the course of all Equestrian history in more ways than one. You must learn about the colt and the debt."
	
> 1. The Colt and the Debt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Booker? Are you afraid of God?”
“No. But I’m afraid of you.” 


Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.	-Abraham Lincoln



Coast of Mane


E.E. 112


The boat rocked as it carried across the tides of the ocean. The members of the vessel consisted of three equine figures, a male and female earth pony and a stallion unicorn. The rowing hornless pony fought against the tides of the sea. He seemed to not even place any sign of struggle in his tone. He was idly chatting with the mare.
Both earth ponies spoke in a Canterlotian accent. The mare had a purple coat and green mane. The stallion had a white coat with light blue mane.
As for the unicorn, he remained silent. He was lost in thought. The words kept ringing in his head. Bring us the mare. Wipe away the debt.
That concentration broke when the mare turned around and handed him an object. It was a wooden box with a metallic engraving with the name of the owner:


Property of


Booker DeWitt


7th Calvary, Wounded Hoof


The box had been made for him. Booker asked, “What’s this?” The mare had already turned her head faced forward and continued talking to the rower as if the passenger never existed.
Knowing he wont get his answer from her, Booker looked at the mysterious present. His horn glowed a light brown and he released the latch that kept the box sealed. Carefully, Booker slowly opened the lid. He examined the box’s many contents: a key, paper, coins, and most distinguishably, a gun.
A magazine pistol, or any firearm for that matter, was illegal to Equestrian citizens. They have been banned since EE (Equestrian Era) 65, the end of the Equestrian Civil War. Firearms now are only needed in the most desperate of measures. 
Equestria wasn’t very large. Its borders have not yet spanned to the old monarch kingdoms across the West. They still haven’t settled their differences and, supposedly, still inhabited wendigos.
Furthermore, Booker was in debt. He realized these contents were for his mission. The gun emphasized the importance of Booker’s objective. He mustn’t fail. It was his last chance. With that on Booker’s mind, he chambered the first bullet and placed the pistol in his coat pocket.
One piece of paper in the box was a photo of a unicorn mare. She was dressed in early Equestrian clothing. Booker flipped the photo on its backside. There was a note written:


Bring to Manehattan unharmed


After examining the rest of the box, Booker realized that the remaining contents were cryptic. Nevertheless, he individually placed the items in the rest of his pockets in case they would serve later purpose.  He then lowered the now useless box on the boat’s floor.
Their destination emerged from the hazy distance of the pouring rainwater. Booker was to be briefed in the building the two ponies take him. The roaring waves were attempting to blanket the island. The building seemed so ominous and… unnecessary. Booker felt like this was some kind of misunderstanding.
Thoughts started pouring in Booker’s head. None of this added up. What purpose would a lighthouse need for this mission?  Why do I need a gun if she’s in here? Why do I even need a gun? What is so important about this mare?
At that moment Booker thought about the severity of his debt. It seemed too unlikely for him to find her on this spec of land. 

Fine, Booker thought. I’ll play their little game.

The unicorn was so lost in thought that he had just realized that he was already on the dock and trotting towards the building. He saw his transportation was heading back to Mane.
“Hey! Is somepony meeting me here?”
“I certainly hope so”, the rower responded.
The mare added, “It does seem like a dreadful place to be stranded”.
Booker shrugged it off. They were a useless source for answers.


*     *     *


He felt more and more misplaced as he steadily paced towards the door and kept his eyes glued to the towering lighthouse. The door had a bloodstained sheet of paper with a note. The message assured Booker he was in the right place:


DeWitt-


Bring us the


mare and wipe 


away the debt.


 This is your 


LAST CHANCE.


Booker pounded on the door. Without even waiting for a response, he slowly clopped into the lighthouse.  He shouted to the darkness of the spiraling staircase. “Excuse me. It’s Booker DeWitt. I guess you’re expecting me?” 
The unresponsive echo alone was enough to assure Booker that the place was abandoned. Wait. Booker perked his ears up. Is that…music? In the center of the room, a framed sewed message lay above a metal tray of water:


OF THY 


SINS



SHALL I


WASH


THEE


Booker stepped forward and took a good hard look at his reflection in the water. His black mane was a very standard medium length. His coat was a light brown. His clothes were somewhat sloppy. He tilted his head upward to look again at the message. “Good luck with that pal”.
Equestria had been fundamentally a monotheistic nation. It was a complex religion. A single God was the creator of all life and, more importantly, sustained that life through the daily cycles of the sun and moon.
Booker proceeded to the staircase and saw a similar religious message:


FROM
SODOM

SHALL I
LEAD
THEE


Booker silently observed until he made his way to the second floor. Sodom. Sodom. Where have I heard that name?
Booker noted the substances of the more home-like second floor. It had a desk. On the wall adjacent to that desk was a map with a line that headed to mid-western Equestria and back. It’s probably just some railroad track. The source of the faint music was a radio. It had played a tune to which Booker wasn’t familiar with. He was never really fond of music. Booker also observed the many household appliances. This is where the lighthouse pony must live. It was a simplistic bedroom, but everything was scattered on the floor. The place almost looks like somepony had already b-.
Booker galloped to the third floor, ignoring the next religious text at the stairwell. Sure enough, Booker’s instinct had been true. In front of him sat a corpse. It was fresh and its body and head have been covered. This was a murder. On the pony’s chest was another bloody paper:


DON’T
DISAPPOINT
US


These ponies meant serious business. Homicide was somewhat rare in Equestria. Booker wasn’t new to death though. This isn’t that bad considering what I’ve seen before this. He decided to cast that thought aside before he dove into his past.  What did I get myself into?
He looked around the rest of the room: blood, instruments probably used for torturing the poor fellow, nothing else out of the ordinary. The storm can be easily heard from here. Booker looked at the final set of stairs leading to the top floor. Something or somepony was expecting him there. Better not keep them waiting. He crossed the final sewn text:


IN NEW
EDEN 
SOIL

SHALL I
PLANT
THEE



*     *     *


The storm died down by the time Booker got to the top. He turned his head to see that there were three bells with a different symbol on each of them: a large cloud with a lightning symbol in it, a four-leaved clover, and what appeared to be a cookie. The unicorn remembered that one of the items in the box bear the same symbols next to them. He pulled it out and sure enough, the icons matched. Next to each was a number. Booker telepathically rang each bell the number of times the paper said. At first, nothing happened. All of a sudden, the floor shook to a blaring horn-like sound, followed by another two in a higher tone, and finally, two more in a tone in-between the previous two.
Booker was astonished. Perhaps it was some kind of hallucination of heaven responding to the metallic ring of the bells, but it all felt too real.  Before the unicorn could think about what had happened, his attention changed to the gadgets roaring to life at the window with the bells. He quickly noticed the statue behind the bells. The face belonged to an important Equestrian figure, Clover the Clever, one of the founding mothers. Something’s wrong about her. And there was. Attached to Clover’s body was a pair of wings. She was depicted as the mythical Alicorn. Only God was portrayed as an Alicorn.
The chiming stopped, and the window lowered to the floor. The inside of the lighthouse didn’t contain a light to beam on the ocean, instead, a chair. Booker knew what they wanted. Whoever killed the pony downstairs also wanted Booker to ring the bells and sit in that very chair. Just do what they want Booker. It’ll all be over soon. He sighed and sat in the chair.

Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. “What the-“.

Metal rings clipped around all four of Booker’s hooves. He was trapped. A voice was talking, but it was so faint through the roaring of the turning gears. The chair spun and walls started to emerge from the floor. The chair tilted downward. Booker’s felt something in his pocket slip.
The pistol fell on the floor. It wasn’t secure in a holster. “Aw buck.” 
The floor starting gushing out loads of fire. The seat tilted back up. Booker turned his head and tried to see if there was any possible last-minute escape. “Nonononononono-“.
Booker was now able to tell what the voice was saying. He was just too awestruck to care.
“Ascension in the count of five-”
“Nononono-“
“The count of four-“
“Nonono-“
“Three”
“Nonono-“
“Two”
“No. “ Booker sighed in defeat.
“One.”
> 2. From New Eden Soil
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The vessel shot out like a cannon. The surge of the lift pulled Booker down to the chair he was still strapped to. A small window at the front of the vehicle he was in was shrouded by the thick blackness of the thundering clouds. Then, all of the shaking ceased and through the glass revealed a most surreal specticle. Sets of buildings spread out as far as the eye could see, each and every one suspended on the clouds. Massive air vehicles traveled between the gaps of the clouds. The buildings themselves weren't stationary neither. Each one was lightly ascending or descending. The vehicle slowly placed itself into the amazing scenery.
The vehicle must've had some coordinates or was controlled by magic, because it landed perfectly into a hole of one of the buildings. The vessel now lowered mechanically. Through the window were hollowed out plates lightened up by the sun:


We have been founded by the
principle of Harmony

It is non-existant in our government
and in our growing cities

We lost sight of our ways
until the prophet showed up

He promised new land that held
onto the Harmony we lost

He opened our eyes to our
capabilities

And in that awakening, came
Celestia


The metal plates were removed and now replaced by a stained glass window. The test above said 'Unbound from discord.' It displayed an old blue pony on a rock, holding his hooves out. One hoof to the viewer, and the other to the sunset horizon. Below were ponies crying as if they were in the presence of an angel, or a prophet.
Booker recognized the depiction all too well. Whoever that pony was, he took credit for this city, this... Celestia. Not only he took pride in it being his creation, everypony else did too. To Booker, though the display was magnificent, he saw this "prophet" as a madpony.
The latches on the chair pulled back and the front door opened. The room filled with candles on the floor. It was as if he had been in some fancy church. The stained glass window glimmered its colors, illuminating the inside. Booker’s hooves splashed as he exited the vessel.
“What the?”
The knee-high puddle spanned all across the floor.  The halls echoed in prayer. 
Booker proceeded through the halls to see a pony who likely saw his arrival. It must have been everyday a floating shuttle brings some random stranger from beyond, because his face was very calm when he greeted Booker.
“Father Clopstock always welcomes those who escape Sodom soil.”
“Father who? Sodom?”
“Father Clopstock is our prophet. The desolate land that which you came from is Sodom. Celestia, our city, is the Promised Land that is rid of the evils of Sodom. Celestia opens her arms to all who wish to cleanse themselves of their sins from below.”
The robed man followed Booker through the chapel. The water gradually rose and the rooms grew larger. The obviously largest main room contained a nave with several columns separating the hallways into subsections. Booker looked to his left to see other robed ponies walking parallel to him, murmuring in prayer. To his right was the same. The ponies flowing alongside him all chanted the same prayer at the same time. The gathered crowd strode to greet the priest at a gate. Through that gate was a gleam of daylight. That was, seemingly, the only way in. 
“Do you wish to journey into Celestia, young pilgrim?”
“Uh…” Booker turned around to the others who have now formed a semi-circle in around him. “Sure. Whatever gets me through that gate.”
The old priest chuckled. “Passage is only granted to those who seek salvation. This gate separates those who wish to start anew, and those who leech on the resources of our great city. Which one are you, pilgrim?”
The priest extended his hoof. Booker grabbed it without thinking twice. The priest turned Booker around to face the crowd of white clothed figures. “This colt accepts the pilgrimage to Celestia. He is willing to start again in the road carved by the sweat of our Father Clopstock. Yet, he reeks of the Sins of Sodom.” Without warning, Booker felt two hooves press his face downward into the water. He could have easily held his breath if he knew that the crazy old man was going to shove his face in the water. As he arose and felt relieved that he managed to survive it.
“He still seems too dirty to be granted crossing to Celestia. Let us-“
Booker wasn't prepared for the second dunk neither. As quickly as the priest buried his head a second time, Booker saw his world fade.


*     *     *


“Open up Dewitt! I know you’re in there. You will bring us the mare!”

“No. I’m not doing it. Just call the damn thing off. I’ll do something else to pay you back.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Mr. Dewitt! You will open this door if you know what’s best for you!”

Booker got up from his desk. He swerved back and forth in his drunken state. The floor of his office was littered with emptied bottles of beer. He swayed in a zigzag pattern to the door, though still unwilling to open it.

“Mr. Dewitt. You can’t run from us! Now open this door!”

“No. You can't make me do it. I’m….I’m not doing it.”

“Open this door!”

Booker accepted the inevitable and swung the door wide open. Outside was a top view of Manehattan, bombarded by countless zeppelins. Flashes of light could be seen all across the city. One of the warships turned to face Dewitt’s door. It launched a bomb right at him.

“AAAAAAAAAA-“


*     *     *


“-AAAAAAAH.”

Booker throttled his head up. He was panting crazily. That priest needs to know the difference between baptizing and drowning. He pulled the rest of his body up to feel the water still inhabiting the floor, only this time, mere inches high. 
Booker’s gaze turned to a squint, realizing that he was now in the city. In front of him were more robed ponies. This time, they were knelt in prayer towards three different statues. They were figures of Clover the Clever, Pvt. Pansy, and Smart Cookie, all leaning in grace to accept their prayers. In front of each pedestal was an embedded metal, engraving the word “Mother” followed by the three ponies’ last names. Mother Clover, Mother Pansy, Mother Cookie, Booker rang the three names in his head to get a feel of things. He couldn’t help burst out a quick laugh at the last one. Mother Cookie sounds so ridiculous.
Booker started questioning the citizen’s sanity. Nearly dropping him in water and worshipping Equestria’s founders in a religious procedure certainly dropped some points in Booker’s score count. He decided not to think too ahead of himself. It would be crazy not to think that this city doesn't have its fair share of loonies. Hopefully I've dealt with most of them.
Booker proceeded to a large wooden door. The City in the Sky awaited his arrival. Get in, get her, get out. Even after all the crazy things he's seen in a day that nopony had seen in a lifetime, Booker could not forget his objective. He held his breath in and opened the door.


*     *     *


If the massive size of the city didn't catch Booker's amazement when he saw if from afar, then up close, it certainly did. His floor descended slowly, giving Booker plenty of time to take in the setting. Flocks of Pegasi flew freely, without the restriction of the fractioned ground. Between the sets of structures of solid floor, parallel metal bars carried large cargo out into the unseen distance. The front of Booker's platform drew to a stop, and connected to the front of the city. That's how it all attached. The pieces floated independently until they linked with each other. The whole city was a self-moving jigsaw puzzle, interlocking constantly between fitting end pieces. The edge of the building docked at the main plaza and Booker headed through the brightened public streets.
Everywhere around, the citizens of Celestia were idly chatting, enjoying their peaceful day. They occupied the restaurants, filled up the benches, and laid down with their picnics. Everypony was busy occupying their leisurely day. Booker did his best not to look like it was his first time here. They might think he'd be up to something. He just strolled as if his mind too, was lost in the midst of a beautiful July day.
In front of Booker stood a towering statue. The figure intimidatingly stood on his hind legs to have both of his front legs present a radiant Celestia. His stature resembled another artwork in a very similar way. It was no coincidence. Clopstock. It didn't take a genius to see that it was the same pony from the stained glass window. He even had the same gesture. Booker didn't halt when he viewed the figure. He did however, slow down to eye it for a long while. He realized that he gave himself away with his foreign grimace. It's probably a requirement to worship this so called prophet. He turned around to see that the paranoia was already starting to get a hold of him. Not one pony noticed or cared that he didn't admire the statue. Booker hurried further down the only road available before he really did get something that interfered with him and the debt. It doesn't matter that I've been accepted as a part of the city. I don't like this place one bit.
Booker continued to make his way around the city. He needed some kind of viewpoint to make out where he needed to head. He pulled out a postcard in his pocket that gave him the name. Souvenir from Monument Island, Booker read from the card. Below the text was an image of a gilded bronze Alicorn. Great. I just need to find the giant Alicorn. Hopefully there aren't too many of those around here. Booker placed the card back in his pocket and continued walking.
One distinct odd thing about Celestia Booker noticed was that most of the shops were not open. It wasn't like they were out of business either. Everywhere he turned, stores had all of their supplies inside, just locked in. All the door signs flipped to say closed. It could be a holiday here, Booker thought to himself. He wouldn't dare get his answer conversing with the ponies. He could just imagine all the confused faces figuring out he isn't from this neck of the woods. Luckily, a sign right in front of Booker removed any need to discuss with the locals. A fair, huh? Guess there's no harm in that. He navigated his way through where signs were pointing. He could hear all of the residents out in the distance. He was near.
Something, however, stopped Booker dead on his tracks. It was a simple poster in front of a wall: 'The False Herder Seeks Only to Lead Our Alicorn Astray'. The message itself was very vague, but the image contained clear symbolism. In the background was Monument Island. A cloaked pony resembling death is walking a small white Alicorn with a pink mane. Between them and Monument Island's statue was a dirt path, and the two figures were heading in the opposite direction. It took Booker nearly an instant to figure it out. Monument Island, the road, the fact that getting the mare and out was the only thing he wanted to do. I am the False Herder. What got Booker nervous wasn't the fact that he knew he was one of the representing figures, but rather that he was a celebrity even before he boarded Celestia. 
All around Booker, the eyes of the ponies turned to see the sweat traveling down his neck and into his vest. They all started crowding around him, murmuring things connecting him to the models on the wall. They kept their distance as if he was some kind of animal who escaped from the zoo. The voices turned to shouts, and Booker lowered his body so that his hooves can cover up the foul stench of the things they were saying about him. It didn't work. Booker felt a tap on his right shoulder.
"AH!"
The pony who tapped him jumped. As she was regaining her balance from that scare, Booker turned to see that everypony was minding their own business. He sighed realizing that he did not blow his chance of getting to Monument Island. Everything that happened since was just an imagination. The poster, however, was not made up. Booker blinked, and the image stayed.
"Sorry 'bout just tapping y'all like that on the shoulder stranger. Didn't knows ye'd be a jumpy fellah. I was just wondering if y'all wanted some mah flowers."
The mare's accent was heavy, but she meant no harm. In front of her was a basket covered in a rainbow of flowers. Not even she assumed that Booker was the False Herder.
"No thanks," Booker replied.
That was all it took for her to walk away. No questions, no weird looks, no suspicion whatsoever. After his snapback to the real world, Booker remembered something about the mare he needed for the debt. Searching through his pockets, he was able to find the photo of the mare again. He wanted to make sure that the poster was accurate. Sure enough, at the part of the blouse by the unicorn's flank, were a few pegasus feathers sticking out.
> 3. Secrets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	For the most part, Twilight was very quiet during Celestia's tale. There were the occasional questions that didn't make sense because of their time period. What is a gun? Why did the priest dunk Booker in water? All of which Celestia took her careful time to make sure Twilight understood. Other than that, Twilight was able to take all of it in pretty well. Nowadays, the description of death of any kind was unthinkable in Equestria. She was silent when Celestia told her about the corpse. She was silent when she heard about the alcohol and vision. Her first major interruption of the story, however, was when she saw a strikingly similar resemblance between the mare of the debt and a certain other Alicorn she knew.
"Princess," Twilight asked the Celestia. "Were you the mare Booker was after?"
Celestia nodded. "That is correct Twilight Sparkle. I was the target of Booker's mission.
"As a filly, I spent my life in that statue. At that time, all I knew of the world was confined to my little home. I was kept there by order of Clopstock. He didn't want to me to leave until I was ready to go outside. Like a princess from a fairytale, I remained there. That all changed when Booker showed up. He wasn't any prince in shining armor, and surely not in any romantic relationship with me. But he had the key, the key to my freedom."
The room was silent for a while. Nopony wanted to talk. In that silence, Twilight reflected on the no longer existent city. Booker was filled with so much guilt. The way he nearly broke himself down twice, thinking he'd be exposed. She placed herself in the city. She could only dream of how amazing it would be: the tall buildings spanning across the clouds, the smell of ozone, the shining light of the sun reserved to the highest point ponykind has reached. She saw no falters in the ordinary citizens. The initiation ceremony might have been over-the-top, but that was minor compared to her mentor's description that it was "blinded by their nationalism". Then she remembered, something struck Twilight as odd when she thought about it.
"Princess, how was this Clopstock able to do all this? How does he know about the 'False Herder'? How did he create the city? Something so large its magic could drain every unicorn in Canterlot. Not to mention that the spell would be temporary."
Celestia remained still for a second, head lowered. "Fath-...I mean, Zachary Clopstock, is known for miraculous prophecies."
Twilight was ready to draw even more questions, but Celestia continued to elaborate.
"Clopstock kept me there to protect me. He knew that Booker would come to release me. That's why he announced the coming of the False Herder. As for why...it is more complex. Its best told if I continue. I wish to follow up on this story tomorrow.
You'll be staying in the castle's master guest bedroom upstairs. I need to get back to my daily duties. I don't have as much free time as I used to Twilight Sparkle. I shall see you here again tomorrow after sunrise. Good night Twilight."
"Good night princess."
Twilight turned towards the exit and began her long trip back to the surface of Canterlot's castle. As she opened the large wooden door, she turned back to face her mentor. Celestia had her head lowered. Her face turned to a frown and she stared at the floor in deep thought. Such a thing was completely against her nature. When Twilight first saw Celestia raise the sun, not only did she see the beauty in the action, but also the reflected beauty of the pony whom welcomed it to everypony everyday. The sunrise was not only an art, but a gift of jubilance. The princess Celestia in front of Twilight possessed none of those traits. This one looked saddened, as if something tore all of the happiness off of her soul. Celestia's concentration returned to the room in front of her. The two ponies met eye to eye in the silence. Both of them managed to force a simple smile. Before Twilight left, she looked at the clock in the room. It was 3:42, barely over an hour since she had entered.
Twilight tried to ease her mind from all that has happened since she was at the other side of that door. What she needed right now was a bed to lay down her thoughts and let them drift through the soft cushions of a mattress. A good night's rest was something that she didn't have enough of upon arrival. As she walked back upwards, she attempted to clear her thoughts. Twilight could remove all but one image from her head, the look on Celestia's face before she left. It kept coming back. Soon, that enigmatic gear started to power Twilight's mind again. Why was the princess so sad? Why would she stop her story so soon? She managed to leave those thoughts aside. Whatever princess Celestia is hiding, I'm sure it's for a good reason. Still, though she wouldn't mentally pursue Celestia, the image remained on her mind the entire walk.


*     *     *


Princess Celestia remained in her royal bedroom, lost in thought. She had tried to hold back the memories of the city. Even one millennia ago seemed to be days now that it all reemerged. She let single teardrop fall onto the floor.
"My, my. That was such a lovely story-"
"-and you didn't even spend much time talking about it."
"I would love to know how it ends-"
"-if there is an ending at all."
Celestia raised her head to see two figures she hadn't seen for a while, a purple mare and a white stallion.
"I had a feeling I would see you two again," Celestia said. "What are you doing here?"
"What a wonderful question," the mare said.
"What are you doing here?" The colt redirected the question to Celestia. "That was such a marvelous story. We all know it must continue-"
"-one way or another. After all, she was able to open and pull back the tear."
Celestia just sat there, completely at the mercy of the events to come. "I will keep going. I just don't want her to end up like the rest."
"Understandable", the mare said.
"It'd be foolish not to show care for her."
"Perhaps there will be a way-"
"-where one Celestia and one Equestria could coexist without links to the others."
"Unbound by the chain."
"A win-win."
"We shall see how her events will go along."
"Let's see if there are variables."
The colt tossed Celestia a silver coin. On his neck was a tallied t-chart, twelve marks under the word heads, none for tails. On her hoof was a tray, waiting for the landing of a coin. Celestia spun the coin in front of her, observing the ancient engravings of the artifact from the floating city.
"Heads-"
"-or tails?"


*     *     *


"Must she go through with it now? Look at what she has been through ever since her arrival. Must we take that all away from her?"

"There is no other choice. Now that she has the Elements-"

"-we will give her the tear."

"If she succeeds-

"-you know she must go." 

"Yes, but a tear altering her friends' cutie marks!? There must be another way."

"Do you have doubts she will succeed-"

"-or do you have doubts the course can no longer be hindered when she does succeed?"

"You both know what must happen when she makes it out."

"Bring us the mare-"

"-and wipe away the debt."


*     *     *


"No! There must be some other way!"
Twilight shot awake, taking in the setting after that horrid nightmare. The dream she just had was unlike any other dream. She felt as if she was there. She sensed the emotion in her voice in her wake. There were no images either, just voices. Even now, Twilight couldn't tell what she got so worked up about. The conversation didn't help her piece together the dream either. What exactly were the ponies tearing? Then, she remembered the last words she heard.
"Bring us the mare, and wipe away the debt..."
Luna's bright night calmly illuminated the floral tiles of Twilight's bedroom. Twilight pulled the sheets off her to rinse her face in the bathroom. She opened the door and heard a light scratching noise. She light up her horn to reveal an oval shaped box on the floor. attached to it was a spinning record. Twilight remembered entering the bathroom before. The was no portable record player before. She turned around half expecting the culprit to reveal them self from behind. Instead, the light breeze of the open window still showed no sign of anypony tampering with the room. A pegasus could have entered through the balcony, but the detection spell there remained armed and untouched. The front door's walls were sealed as well. As the appearance of the object became a bigger mystery, the record inside kept spinning, piercing the quiet silence. In front was a large red button, just waiting to be pressed. Twilight slowly made her way to the machine, and tapped the button.
"Voxophone log number 312: I have finally decided to end it. As of tomorrow, the family name inherited throughout countless generations known as 'Starswirl the Bearded' will cease to exist. I shall be the last descendant of that name, and he will be nothing but a relic. Instead, I shall continue 'his' works under the real published name, Lutece. A new age is dawning for quantum physics. I shall devote my time to the future of scientific exploration. I see a new era dawning for ponykind, and I plan on setting its roots. I have even gathered the interest of a certain pony. He goes by the name of Clopstock. I can already tell. He and I will be the bridge between the olden age, and a new one beyond the horizon. This is Rosalind Lutece, and I shall take my first step into a better world."
The quality of the message itself wasn't bad, it was the message itself that was somewhat unusual. This pony was claiming that Starswirl the bearded was a hoax, an alias for a family line. This pony, this, Lutece, was planning on working with another pony, a pony who was set on creating the city of Celestia. Twilight wasn't often one to take a side without some kind of basis. All of this was just a recording. There was no proof that Twilight's role model was made up.
Twilight placed the portable record player in the trashcan. She would figure more of this out by the following morning. For now, she washed off the blood from her nose and went back to bed.
> 4. A Fairly Invigorating Fair
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why would the floating city be hidden for so long? Why is she unearthing it now? And most importantly, why, of all ponies, would she choose to tell me?

For all Booker knew, his head was constantly pounding the soft walls of a cell while his forelegs were knotted in a straightjacket. Heck, he wished that was the case, for that would mean he had a grasp on sanity. But here, no. Here, he was in an unheard of lost floating city trying to bring a mythical creature to unknown employers. Not to mention that he was a forewarned infamous celebrity prophesied by the leader of the city, whom has also created a cult that treats Equestria's founders with intense religious passion. All of this, just so he could wipe away a gambling debt. It seemed that everything possible in the universe flipped its head upside-down and gave Booker a maniacal journey.
"Um. Sir? Do you want the telegram?"
"Huh?"
It was possibly the tenth time today that Booker's train of thought lost sight of what was right in front of him. I've got to start paying attention more to what's going on.
"Wait. A telegram?"
In front of Booker now was a pegasus paperfoal, complete with a hat and saddlebag. His eyes didn't look like they wanted to stay focused at one spot. One eye was always in another direction. The lazy eye alternated too. Booker tried to pay attention to the one starring closest to him. The foal went for the bag on his back and proceeded to reach into the right pocket, searching for the so-called message.
"Where ish it? I jusht playshd ih here. Ih mush be here, somewhere." He nuzzled the papers inside in search of the item. "Aha!"
The foal pulled the object out with his eyes closed, nodding to himself on the success of obtaining a simple paper-
"That's a muffin...” Booker told the foal.
The foal looked with his right eye down at the snack in his mouth. Without a word, he sheepishly dropped his lunch and continued to rummage through the messy clumps of delivery paper.
Booker rolled his eyes. That simple action made his vision wander to his target, Monument Island. There was no mistaking it. Though the thing was not even a mile away, the island itself was separated by the sky. Even with the solid ground making it habitable for unicorns and earth ponies, being a pegasus still had some advantageous perks in this terrain. He turned around just in time to spot that the foal had just grabbed the right mail.
"Ye are Dewi, righ?" the foal said, now placing saliva all over the paper.
"Yeah." Booker hurried to strip the paper from the foal's mouth before it became impossible to read. The card's words were still clear. The left side was still damaged by light bite marks and soggy wet ink:

Dewitt STOP
Do not alert Clopstock to
your presence STOP
Whatever you do, do not
pick #77  STOP
-Lutece

"Lutece," Booker murmured. He couldn't recall knowing any Lutece. He certainly didn't know anypony up here. Yet, there was the message, in clear black and white.
"Hey kid. You know who sent-", Booker's voice trailed as he noticed that the foal wasn't aside him anymore. He looked back at the telegram. Whoever sent it seemed like they wanted to help. They at least didn't want him to be under the eyes of the city's leader. The less Booker had to deal with, the better. He would settle that nonsense later. He first needed to make his way there, and there was only one route, through the fair.


*     *     *


Twilight's attention turned back to the room. Celestia was just continuing to tell the story. Now was the first time today Twilight started to get her brain functioning. What she did since was reflexive, like brushing your teeth or taking a shower. One doesn't really think about what they do. They just do. While this wasn't at all like her routine lifestyle, that's how she saw it was all morning. She woke up. She ate. She walked down to hear more about the floating city. That's all there was.
Now, she started thinking for herself again. Her eyes drifted from the focused state of imagination and she looked around. A second ago, she was in the city in the sky. Twilight was now back in the “Oasis” (what princess Celestia called the room). Twilight remembered the recorded message from yesterday. For now, she decided to keep it a secret. Something told her that Celestia wouldn’t like to hear that there was an intruder last night. Twilight held a number of other questions she kept to herself. Ever since she got here, she felt like the princess wasn’t telling her something. But she couldn't find the words to tell Celestia. For now, she would just follow along. She focused back to Celstia's tale.


*     *     *


"Hotdogs. Get your fresh hot dogs."
"Well look at this. Those dumb Vox are on the loose. Are you the Keeper Celestia needs to take them out? Step ri-".
"It's the revolutionary sky-hook. We all know the skylines carrying our precious cargo around our fair city. Now, you can ride them too. These few-of-a-kind -".
Everywhere Booker turned, he saw advertising, advertising like any other fair. What was unusual were the products, specifically one that caught his attention.
"These are no tall tales. This is no magic. What you see right now are Vigors. Now being produced just for you locals weeks ago, courtesy of me and my brother. That's right everypony. Vigors, powered by our body's salts. You heard me. That NaCl in your bloodstream. Those rejuvenating sweet crystals, now compact fluids in these here bottles. We've got electricity. We've got fire. We've got sustained levitation. Even a charmer one for the ladies." (Some of the mares giggled at that comment.) "This is the future. Go to Fink & Fank Co. to get yours today!"
He stood in silence as the two masqueraders in front of him did all the talking. They were producing spells from the top of the glowing horned auras from their heads, spells that showed off a few sparks and fireballs. What stood out was that their horns were completely invisible.
"What did you do with those unicorns?", a spectator asked. "Why can't we see their horns?"
Fink (or Fank) nodded his head slowly. Though he seemed like he was disappointed in himself, it was the spectator who fell into the marketing ploy.
"Unicorns? Oh dear my. It seems like I forgot to tell you the best part. It's for everypony!" 
He paused for the gasps of citizens to fade. Booker didn't make a noise, but raised an eyebrow to call BS. Fank (or Fink) saw that gesture and took advantage of it.
"You sir," he pointed to Booker. "You don't believe me? See for yourself. I'll prove you wrong or my name isn't Fink."
A circle formed around Booker, waiting for him to set the stage. He acknowledged the publicity he didn't want to get. Walking away would just give him more attention.
"So, what's your name".
"Booker."
"Booker...," Fink rang, getting the taste of his name. "Is there any non-unicorn here who wants to volunteer?" He scanned the area to look for a suitable candidate. "You!"
Fink pointed at a little earth pony filly, likely around 10 years old. "Me?"
Fink bent his hoof toward the stage. "Yes you! How would you like to be the first filly to experience this non-unicorn magic?"
"Um...," the child was uncertain. She just hid behind her mother.
"Go on Congruity." Like the loving and caring mother that she wasn't, she dragged her filly onto the stage.
"Congruity," Fink said. "My. So many children are being named after vocabulary terms today. I'm not a fan, but you are the exception."
Congruity blushed.
"Now, dear Congruity, I want you to drink this bottle."	
Congruity was petrified, gazing at the bottle she saw made of poison.
"Don't worry little miss, it's only 12 percent alcohol."
Some adults laughed because of the filly's obvious lack of understanding for alcoholic beverages.
Fink must have been an impatient salespony. He didn't allow Congruity more than 15 seconds of thought before he forced the drink down her throat. At least, that's how Fink made it look. The sudden shock of the chug got Congruity to fall over on her sides. Normally, the crowd's reaction would be to laugh. This was replaced with gasps because of what else happened to Congruity. Around her were glowing rings of green smoke.
"She's possessed by that devil's drink," one random frightened stranger from the crowd hurriedly said.
"Hardly," Fink responded. "In fact, I'd say it's the opposite. She's possessing the new powers of the Vigors I just granted her. Give it time. The first one is said to be the wooziest." He ended that thought with a chuckle. Thankfully, others followed suit, else the gravity would have been 10 times heavier for Fink. Soon enough, the green rings vanished, and Congruity was able to get back on her feet as if nothing happened.
"Now," Fink moved his mouth to whisper into Congruity's ear. He later said,"Can you do that?"
She nodded.
"Okay then!"
Booker took only a second to see that Congruity was charging up magic, aimed directly at him. The vigor energized quickly and Booker was blinded by the green smoke.


*     *     *


"Mr. Dewitt?" The door pounded loudly. "Mr. Dewitt! Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt!"

"No. You can't make me do this. I'll find another way."

"Open this door right now."

Rather than responding to the source of the banging of his office door, Booker made his way to another door placed on the wall on his right. 

"Anna? Anna!"


*     *     *


Booker opened his eyes to see the crowd applauding. He turned and faced the two other ponies on the stage.
"Bravo miss Congruity. Bravo."
Everypony was clopping their hooves in standing ovation for the "volunteer" filly. She made her way back to her mother, while Booker was trying to piece together what just happened.
"It looks like our guest is coming to," Fink howled in laughter. "Don't worry, the vigor is even stronger when adults use it. I'd hate to see what happens if 'that' was used on poor Booker here."
Booker felt as if he regreted life, like all the sadness in the world was brought back to him. He felt his eyes were swollen and were tearing up some seconds ago.
"Don't worry Booker. You just had a gashing blow of, my favorite vigor, 'Liquid Pride'!" Fink telepathically held up a bottle in front of Booker. "You get your own. I never forget any of my participants."
Booker picked up the bottle of "Liquid Pride" and proceeded to head off the stage. Luckily, the main focus of the herd was on the little earth pony who cast magic. Booker just made his way to the other booths.


*     *     *


"You sir. What if I were to tell you you can have your own recording device wherever you go? Well ladies and gents, I have for you the revolutionary mechanical voxophone."
Booker seemed mildly intrigued, enough to at least have a look.
"Say anything into the microphone. Anything."
"Anything?"
"*scratch*...Anything?"
The device suddenly lost Booker's interest. It's like a mechanical parrot. Still, he decided to see what they would bargain for the device.
"How much for the voxophone."
"Only 150 bits."
150 bits was a lot of money. He lifted the mobile recording device and lowered it with certainty that it was not worth buying. It had to weigh at least a good 40 pounds. 
"That comes with the microphone right?"
The vendor shook his head. "No. That's extra."
"Okay then."
Booker walked away before he wasted even more time. There was still the mare he needed to get from the tower.


*     *     *


"I'm Harpo Heartstrings. It gives me great pleasure to be here to present the lovely ponies of Celestia Fink & Fank Co.'s Amazing Handypony."
This spectacle had an even more impressive display. It certainly grabbed the most attention, but there would obviously be no public demonstration. Next to the speaker a figure nearly three times the height of a normal pony. The seemingly only pony thing about him was his heart, encased in glass around his entire metal body. Everything else looked artificial. The weirdest part about this pony would definitely be the fact that he only stood on two legs. The front legs were just floating there. On the end of each of them were 5 little limbs. They sort of look like... mini hooves.
"This is, by far the biggest feat in pony-kind. Look at the protruding limbs. Those are hands. They can be used to grab things with ease, and without magic. No more hoofs and mouths to open doors. These limbs can do all the practical things a unicorn can grab, only with the body. No horns attached."
The figure actually kind of looked like a metallic diamond dog, designed so that he could at least appear remotely pony. The handypony didn't seem so impressed. His ginormous new hands covered up his face when the bright lights of a photograph went off. Overall, the thing itself was not so interactive. Booker might have stayed if he had time to spare. He tried his best to minimize that time. 


*     *     *


Booker proceeded further away from the fair, where he saw signs of a raffle. They seemed to also lead to where Monument Island was. Before he could press onwards, he was greeted by the most unlikely souls he expected to find.
"Heads-"
"-or tails?"
Before Booker stood, undoubtedly, the pony couple that rowed him to the lighthouse in the first place. This time, the two were finely dressed. The colt had a whiteboard on his neck. Under the word heads, were at 12 tally marks. Tails had none. On one of the mare's hooves was a plate.
"How did you two get here?"
The colt tossed Booker a dollar coin.
"Heads-"
"-or tails?"
Booker flipped the coin around. On one side was the face of Clopstock. The other side had the city. Booker had no clue what was going on. Like all things, he just decided to roll with it and see where it would take him.
"Tails," he said while landing the coin onto the mare's plate.
The two looked at the result happily. The mare took chalk from her pocket and marked his T-Chart's "heads" marker up one.
"It seems that it will continue," the mare said.
"Is that good or bad?"
"Depends on how you see it. Too bad neither of us saw this coming when it was destroyed."
"That's true. I thought that it would end the chain, not start a new one."
"Proof that this experiment won't stop what is to come."
"Then this is a good sign. All if the others have been successful. Why shouldn't this one be?"
"Because, the same cannot be said for everypony. Especially her."
"Which her?"
"Every her we've aided so far."
"Hm. You have a fair point."
The bizarre conversation between the two ended. Booker just continued walking by. The best reason as to why the two were there was that they were in his head. Hopefully he could have that portion of his brain that thought those two up extracted once his slate is clean.


*     *     *


"Monument Island was not even a mile away. For the first time since he got here, Booker felt good. Now, everything was going his way. Nothing ever went his way. Hope was just a trap to snare him in."


*     *     *


"And now, the 112 raffle has officially begun!"
Crowds cheered as Fank riled up the lottery drawers. Each of them were holding a baseball with a number on them. Booker had to make his way through all of the eager baseball holders. His destination was so close.
"Hey Mister!"
Damn.
"You don't have a lottery number?" 
The mare who stopped Booker was holding a basket of lottery baseball drawings. He saw no harm in doing so. He could at least just pull a number then haul ass to Monument Island. Leaving now would be too suspicious. Only when he grabbed a ball did he realize what that postcard from before was warning him about.
"Oh, #77," the mare said. "That's a lucky number. I'll be rooting for you."
At that moment, his calm collectedness turned to an all-out panic. He started making his way to the destination. He needed to move fast, but not fast enough to get everypony's attention.
"And the winner is...#77," Fank announced. "Come and claim your prize."
While normally, he could have slipped through the crowd, he was the last one to draw. They all knew that 77 was his. The surrounding ponies closed his walking route. The only way out now was to take the prize and go. Booker walked up to the front, ball at the ready to show. The curtains behind the stage Fank was standing raised. Everypony was chanting the tune to "Here Comes the Bride". On queue, a couple, the male a pony, the female a zebra, sat there. They were tied against their will, pleading for mercy.
"Well," Fank asked Booker. "Are you going to throw it, or do you have a STRIPED decision on what to do?" 
> 5. In Case of Emergency: Break Law Enforcement
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To imagine a time, a place, my place, once inhabited by demons such as them. They had the same goals to seek the world we take for granted today. They had the dreams of a better future. It was their path, a path bent through the ignorance of their pride. They all sought a better Equestria, one with perfect Harmony. It became hard to imagine how my time and early Equestria's were just different faces of the same coin.

In the front of the crowd stood a motionless unicorn, already gathering everypony's notice because of his thoughts. For anypony in the crowd, there would be no hesitation. They all picked up their baseballs in pride, yearning to be the lucky first throw. Booker also had another choice, throw it at Fank. Not even two minutes after meeting Fank, Booker wanted to hit him. Throwing baseballs at others just for the laughs. But he will show Fank. All it takes is just good a old-fashioned bold no to the face. Booker started spinning the ball as his decision became clear. Then, he remembered the poster.
"The False Herder", a demon sought to be rid of in the face of Celestia's ponies. He was to them only a monster. And what good would he do to prove them wrong by assaulting a citizen. He needed not to be the pony they saw him out to be. All it takes for one to attack another is to remove the other's identity as an equal. That's how the crowd felt it was right to throw baseballs at the couple. They did not see them as equals. Do I see Fank as another pony? As vile as he may be, Booker could not replace Fank with a demon. There was no difference between the ones who cause injustice, and the ones who harm those who cause injustice. If Booker threw the ball at anypony, then how much worse is he than him?
Slowly, the ball stopped revolving and dropped on the floor.
"No," he murmured. "I won't do it."
Suddenly, two policeponies grabbed Booker's front hooves. The one on the right folded Booker's vest to reveal his flank. Several ponies gasped. Fank, being one of the observers, slowly formed a curling devilish grin.
"Where did you get that mark boy?" Fank leaned in, pointing at Booker's cutie mark, a once mostly concealed "Ω". Booker couldn't turn around anyways to look at his flank. He knew perfectly well what was going on. Apparently, not only did Clopstock predict Booker, but also his identity.
"Huh?" Fank leaned in closer to Booker, turning his voice to a near whisper. "Don't you know that you're the 'False Herder'?"
Booker's face turned to a rage, almost regretting that the ball didn't smack Fank across the face. The silent "I'm-going-to-kill-you-when-I-get-out-of-this" look ensured Fank that Booker knew of the prophecy. Fank got back up, ready to attract the crowd's attention.
"Y'all know what we do to 'False Herders' 'round here? Right boys?"
That rallied up the crowd. To them, the annual festival just gained a new flare of drama. They now had front row seats to see the "False Herder" face the wrath of the Celestial Justice System.
"Give him the sky-hook."
The sky-hook, a device used for transportation was going to be used as a torture weapon. On the left guard's left hoof, the spiraling three blades at the top of the mechanism  helped Booker realize that the railways weren't the only things that the sky-hook was good at going through. 
The gaurdspony eased his weapon back, ensuring that his lunge would be most unpleasant. In panic, Booker used his magic to stop the momentum of the swing, giving only four inches of air between the sky-hook and his face. Physical strength is always much more powerful than sheer telepathy. If the guard was an earth pony, Booker's face would have been an unidentifiable mesh of skin, blood, and bone. Thankfully, he was a pegasus. While his force was still more powerful than the magic, it gave Booker time to think. He let go of the magic, and ducked the swing. The guard was now mid-motion of attacking the air above his target, body exposed for a forceful charge right in the lungs. Booker bull rushed his head onto the guard's body, stabbing the stomach region with his horn.  Booker quickly pulled his horn out of the left guard and used it to telepathically grab the sky-hook. Whist still attached to the pegasus's hoof, Booker swung the hook on its side, marking a clean metallic clank in the right guard's face. Both ponies collapsed on the floor after that rapid succession of attacks. 
Booker looked at the results. The pegasus had a flesh stab in his body, the right earth pony guard with a swollen left cheek. The two will live, he assured himself. He had every reason to as well. A horn isn't an ideal weapon for most unicorns. Their horns are mostly blunt and round. Booker was no exception. The wound the horn made on the pegasus didn't look big enough to be lethal. As for the earth pony, his face was luckily only struck by the side of the sky-hook. Had it been the front with the blades exposed, there might not have been an earth pony left.
Booker removed the sky-hook and placed it on his own left hoof. Thankfully, the thing was retractable. The blades only emerged if his wrist was flicked. That way, he wouldn't have to constantly put the thing on and off or resort to walking on a high fourth metal hoof.
After realizing how much time had passed since he was almost killed, Booker looked around. Everypony else was gone: Fank, the couple, and the audience. They all fled in the middle of the fight. All that was left was the False Herder and the soon to be an all out ponyhunting Celestia. Booker decided he best get on the move himself unless he wanted to be surrounded by Clopstock's army.
Booker hurriedly galloped to Monument Island. To his expectations and fears, the bridge was detached, and the island was distancing itself from Booker. By now, the place was too far to teleport to. He would have to find his own route through the complex platforms of the city.
One thing about Celestia that was actually in his favor was that it had guns. Knowing that alone was very convenient. Most guns in Equestria were no longer existent. Not only did Celestia have guns, they had a LOT of guns. Booker even found one stowed in a trash can. Booker could only find pistols identical to the one he dropped on the rocket to Celestia. He took one along with another 3 half-full mags and proceeded to follow the street he ignored when Monument Island neared.


*     *     *


Booker had no idea where the alternate path was taking him. It was only process of elimination. The bridge was removed, staying would result in getting caught, and going back to the fair was suicide. He noticed a flier that might have helped a few minutes ago. The text read: "The Mark of the Herder Cannot be Shielded from Celestia's Eyes". The image was a black outline of a pony's back. A bright contrasting cutie mark, a capital Ω, was placed. That was how Fank called out Booker, the cutie mark.
Booker could not recall how or when he got it. He knew that sometimes, the destinies of a pony are revealed before they know what it means. That had to be the case for him. An ancient letter doesn't exactly say much.
"It's him!"
All of a sudden, shots rang out around Booker's position. He got to cover behind a newspaper stand. The three policeponies who spotted Booker continued shooting the stand, trying knock it down. Booker had only a few precious minutes before his protection was worn thin and somepony would get a lucky shot on him.
*Clink*
A bottle dropped onto the floor but somehow didn't crack. Booker investigated to see that it belonged to him. The "Liquid Pride" slipped from his pockets and remained in one piece. In a flash, his eyes shot open.
Fink howled in laughter. "Don't worry, the vigor is even stronger when adults use it. I'd hate to see what happens if 'that' was used on poor Booker here."
Without a plan B, Booker took the cork off of the mysterious drink and chugged it down.
The next thing Booker felt was his blood pulsing through all the muscles of his body. He could see the green rings rushing around him in the same tempo. Then, all of that energy concentrated onto his horn. At the same time, his mind experienced a surge of pride. He never felt happier in his life. It was so powerful that he made a single teardrop tap the floor.
“That’s it. I’m going in.”
“Don’t be a dumbass Bill. A firepony will be here in a minute. If our lead don’t get to him, he sure will.”
“Screw that. I’m gonna nab me a False Herder.”
Bill ignored his officer’s orders. His impatient and cocky attitude couldn’t wait that long. Booker could hear Bill’s hoofsteps slowly making their way around the left side. Unfortunately for Bill, he just became the lab rat for Booker’s new Vigor.
Booker instinctively cast the spell. The Vigor also granted a sixth sense on how to use it. As the Vigor successfully hit Bill, Booker felt the energy release as it left his horn. Unlike magic, Vigors fed on the salt from all over the body’s bloodstream. Magic was powered from mental will, leaving the caster with a headache and fatigue. 
Bill had his head lowered, talking to himself.
“No! What do you mean I’m fired? I’ve been in the CPD for three years. I see how it is. You’re all Clopstock’s puppets! I don’t need you! I don’t need anypony!”
Bill now filled with rage. He placed his tooth-gripped pistol between his jaws and pointed them to his two former comrades.
“Bill! What the fuck is wrong with you? Drop your gun and get your shit togeth-“
“-No! You get your shit together! You refuse to open your eyes. Clopstock has been using all of us... So be it. If you won’t open your eyes, maybe the Lord will open the pearly gates when I bring him your soul.”
“Bill. Let’s not be too rash-“
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
Bill gunned down his boss. All three shots met vital parts of the body.
The remaining officer couldn't find the courage to run away. His friend had just murdered his superior. Bill turned his head  to point his gun at his friend.
"Don't move you little shit!"
"Bill? Come on, its me, Dave. Put down the gun."
Bill pulled the hammer back.
"Jesus Bill, show some mercy."
*Bang*
Bill blew the smoke out of his gun as he dropped in onto the floor.
"Mercy belongs to the Lord."
Booker peeked around the corner and saw everything. With his mouth still open, he gazed down at the drink and threw it out of the city. Damn. That stuff is powerful. He walked down the road, making his way towards the now lone wailing cop. Behind him was an unlocked gate slightly ajar. His body was above his dead friends. He cursed countless whys to the sky. The Vigor must have worn off. I better not get his atten-
"You!"
Booker turned to see Bill with a gun now. His eyes were still teary. Instead of ending Booker there, he placed the gun on the floor, aimed at his head.
"No!" Booker shouted.
*Click*
The gun was out of ammo. Booker sighed in relief. That victory was ill celebrated.
"COWARD!"
The gate blasted, striking Bill on the back with the heavy metal wall. On the other side stood a soldier with a random collaboration of tin armor. His voice was altered through the metal mask on top of his face, adding an echoing effect. Though only an earth pony, his invisible horn engulfed his entire body in flames.
"YOUR SKIN SHALL BE CLEANSED IN THE FIREY BAPTISM!"
> 6. Bad-Hand Dewitt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

She keeps her head down when she tells me the tale. Each and every word looks like it is being forcefully extracted from her memory. What can cause Princess Celestia, radiant in duty and manner, to be in so much pain? It hurts her so much that just thinking about it makes me ill too.

"I WILL ENJOY SEEING YOUR FLESH DISINTEGRATE TO ASH!"
Normally, Booker would charge head-on into the heat of battle and answer to his enemies with a pistol down their throat. Being that this soldier had no reaction to the bullets Booker shot at him and his invisible horn was throwing balls of fire, running away from him started to seem like the more sensible option. So, he galloped as fast as he could in the opposite direction, using clip after clip of blind rounds at the target behind. This was, surprisingly, not very effective against him. What was effective was that Booker was still alive. Down to only two mags, Booker needed to find a way to beat him quick. He was never really a quick thinker. His quick attacks of the guards and sudden recollection of what Fink said about the Vigor were two successive lucky plans. At this moment, no plan seemed to formulate. All the while, his tail felt like it would get scorched any second. The firepony was gaining speed.
"LIKE A PHOENIX, I SHALL BE REBORN IN MAJESTIC BEAUTY WHEN KINGDOM COME!"
Booker dared himself to look back. The firepony's body was emitting high pitched noises. The fire around his body grew even larger. He had just enough of a boost to lunge and grab Booker. Booker had one more option he didn't want to turn to, teleportation. The reason he didn't want to do so earlier was because teleporting used up a lot of magic. That, plus the physical fatigue from running away made it a useful option only for the desperate. Though, being chased by a fire-throwing metallic soldier seemed to lessen Booker's interests of his condition. The former was the one that would keep his skin. That's all Booker needed to know as he disappeared in a flash.
Booker lost his footing and rolled on the concrete floor a dozen times. He was physically drained and mentally dead. His mind was literally and figuratively spinning around inside his head. Right before Booker passed out on the floor, he heard an explosion off in the distance.


*     *     *


"Isn't he supposed to be at the restaurant now, brother?"
"Obviously not. He's been laying on the floor."
"A bit behind schedule, I presume?"
"A minor change in route. The destination still remains the same."
"So now you're siding with me?"
"No. These small differences won't be the factors deviating the result. Not to say the result is the same, but what is happening now isn't affecting it. Besides, we already learned he isn't the one."
"I still wonder why we follow him. The experiment has already been proven a failure."
"But what failed for them has favored everypony else. We need him to keep everything in motion."
"So now you're siding with Clopstock?"
"Heavens no. We keep things in motion until we find a good moment to act."
"Perhaps we have tampered with this for too long. Whenever we fight the tide, it only make matters worse. Look at what we're doing now. Do you think changing things more will improve anything?"
"I still believe we can undo the things we have done. I'm just not sure now if we should continue changing them."
"Which brings me back to why we are still with him."
"Because, they likely won't make it there without us."
"An eternal burden-"
"-for the preservation of everlasting peace."
Booker, listening in on what the two had just said, was now ready to join in on the conversation. "Why do you two keep following me?" He lifted his head to see he was all alone, with the exception of the three dead ponies from before. His headache by now was mostly gone. His body at least had the strength to pull himself off of the floor. The sun was nearing its set beyond the horizon. The sky was still as bright as day, but the transition to an orange tone would come soon. He also smelled something cooking. Booker looked around his body to find everything intact and not charred. His nose pointed toward's Bill's body. The corpse had broiled when the metal door had been blasted open. The metal gate served as a spatula, roasting the body to a fine crisp. The metal wall was now cooled, but the scent of fried earth pony still lingered. Booker barely held onto his lunch upon realizing of the source of scent.
As Booker turned his head to the side to notice a voxophone not even a foot away from him. The record inside was still spinning, creating an all too familiar tempting-to-press-play sound with the needle. Booker accepted the gift, believing more that the two siblings are not from his head.
"Why is it that the other races try to act like they are equal beings as the pony? Have we forgotten how our nation was founded in the first place? Where was the zebra when the three kingdoms set course for a new land? Where was the mule when the leaders settled their disputes in a cavern? And where was the griffin when the Hearth's Warming Heart was formed? The very existence of the Heart shows that harmony can only exist for the pony. Yet, they act it was their ancestors who were the ones that built Equestria from the ground. In reality, it is them who cannot accept their lack of an important role in society. They trick themselves into believing they are the same as the pony. I shall wait until they come back with their own magical heart before I even consider them more than talking beasts."
"How did you get a voxophone of old Clopstock, eh?"
Booker turned his head only to get hit in the back before he got a look at whoever talked. For the fourth time today, he passed out.


*     *     *


"Looks like our guest is coming to."
"Will he be okay boss?"
"Yeah. He'll be fine. 'Lil Jim, next time, try not to hit 'em too hard. Spitz, do a quick scan. Make sure nopony was following you guys when you brought him in."
"Sure thing boss."
Booker squinted his eyes to a single light bulb idly swaying above him. His back lay on a hard-surfaced table. His head eased to his right side to see a pony in a guard outfit. He attempted to get up, only to fall onto the floor. The guard shook his hoof and calmly walked towards Booker. Booker continued to crawl backwards.
"Woah there big guy. Take it easy. This is a disguise. I ain't really one of Clopstock's coppers."
Booker stopped. The pegasus wearing the uniform was fairly large with a wavy black mane and blue fur. He pointed towards another pony in a chair on the other side of same room, a fancily dressed earth pony colt with a light chin beard. He wore a white suit accompanied by a black vest underneath along with a red tie. His black mane was groomed back and parted straight down the middle. His white fur coupled with his wholesome blue eyes. One thing was certain, he had class.
"Why, you 'oughta be the one causing havoc 'round the streets. Name's Spade. And these are the Idlers."
"Idols?"
"No. Idle as in inactive. We're the independents who want to remain out of the conflict. Ever since the Keepers showed their extremist pony supremacism, other beings have been fighting for equal rights. I'm pretty sure you figured that out at the raffle, right 77?"
"..."
"Anyways, Celestia's got their Vox and Keepers all fighting 'round, so what do we do? Nothing. We don't want to lose our loved ones for a lost cause. Those two are leading up to their suicide. That, I can guarantee."
"Vox? Keepers?"
"Oh boy. Seems we get to give you a local history lesson now don't we? Look, on one side we got the Keepers of Harmony, the high-class snobs who enjoy their leisure. All of them following Clopstock. Right now, we in Keeper territory. All you see here is the wealthiest right? See now the problem is, what about the rest of the folk flying up on this here city? They get none of that sunshine, working their flanks off all day. For a long long time, no one questioned the order here. The two layers of poverty and richy rich ponies stayed untouched. Then BAM! Out comes Daisy Fitzroy. Now this griffin starts promising all of that 'you will be heard' crap to rile up the numbers. She calls her group of protesters the Vox Equus, voice of the horse. A bit hypocritical if you ask me. Woulda named it something else myself, but I digress. Soon, nearly all the poor take a stand. And what does the old and wise prophet do? He starts gunning them down left and right. Tries to keep them all in line. The plan didn't work entirely. Sure, the Vox's numbers dropped, but the survivors' spirits raised. What arose from all that gunfire is a vicious, angry group. What's left isn't rioters anymore. The Vox turned into a rebellion. Now you got both sides murdering each other, forgetting why they are fighting in the first place. Each side's only intentions are to win. Now, just like the Keepers, them Vox are murdering ponies for no reason. 
"At first the Idlers were all just individuals, a small patrol squad in the Vox. This didn't include me. One by one, they start to wonder if the Vox Equus was using the right methods to gain equal rights. They take that news up with Daisy. You know what she did? Show 'em what Daisy did Vinny."
A pony stepped into the room. His purple and blue mane concealed the right side of his face. He used his right hoof to display finish the tale. His face had 3 claw marks running downward. His right eye was covered with an eyepatch.
"She said, 'It's not about unity. We write our own destinies. That means that the Keepers must be no more. We must fight so that one day, we won't be brought down by any oppressors. We only win when the only voice left is the Vox.' She clawed Vinny's face just to make her point clear. Then, our group learned that Daisy is nothing but the Clopstock of the poor. If Daisy wins, the innocent rich die. If Clopstock wins, the freedom of the poor dies. The little group seceded from the Vox Equus and turned to me for shelter. Now, being a close friend of Vinny, I had to at least give him time to explain why me. Soon enough, his chatterbox started talking the same time my heart was beating. It was a calling. So, I became the ringleader, helping as many other individuals as possible, hiding in the shadows until Celestia stops bleeding her citizens' blood. Then and only then will we act."
"So you guys are cowards."
"DON'T YOU DARE THINK WE'RE A SPINELESS LOT, FALSE HERDER!" Spade sighed to calm down from his sudden outburst. "There's a difference from being a coward and knowing when acting is the same as placing your pretty neck on a guillotine. Best you let that go through your thick head. Out there are ponies killin' for the hell of it. We'd not stand one day 'gainst the fighting. Those who act don't think."
"And those who think don't act."
Spade chuckled. "Spoken like a soldier. You'll be surprised how effective doing nothing is. It keeps us alive. We must preserve our ideologies. The time for the Idlers to act is not now.
"Our group was never for the prophet. We also aren't liberating every soul like the Vox neither. We're all for equal rights and such. The problem is the Vox ain't the answer. Don't think I need to remind you what happened to Vinny. So, we wait. We wait until we no longer have a reason to hide from the eyes of society. The Idlers fend for themselves and as many others as they can."
Spade got up from his fancy chair to point his guest to follow him through the door.
"It would be rude not to give our welcomed guest a little tour of the manor."


*     *     *


Booker followed Spade out the door, behind him was Vinny and the pony in a guard's uniform. The room was large. The size of the room was reasonable considering the fiftyish beings on the main floor. The place was inhabited with groups of chatting ponies. There weren't just ponies either. There were mules, griffins, zebras, any kind of animal who could speak. Booker and the Idlers watched the party from the balcony above. Spade turned around to face Booker.
"Now, before we begin our little tour, we got a few secrets between you and I. I don't like tensions. No sir. Not one bit. So, how'd I best start with your real name? False Herder don't really suit my name-calling."
"Booker."
Spade shook his hoof with Booker. "Pleasure to be acquainted Booker. You're probably wondering why we knocked you upside the head and now we're treating you to a fancy tour. See, our priority was to get to you before Clopstock or Daisy. They want to use you to turn the tide in this civil war they got going. No way you'd go with us willingly. I could tell you're just like us Booker."
"Look pal, I'm nothing like you Idlers."
"Oh really?" Spade doubted. "I was there you know. The raffle. I saw you NOT throw the ball. A Keeper would've taken a swing at the couple. A Vox would have knocked ol' Fank straight at his fat face. You almost were a Vox though, spinning it 'round, ready to see the bleeding businesspony's nose. Then, *Plop*. The ball hits the floor. Now that is something an Idler would do, think. The other two sides can't do that. They're all busy acting. You thought, 'What good is it by hitting somepony?'. You saw Fank as another being. That's how I know you ain't got Vox in you."
"Look. I just didn't want to attract any attention."
"Then you'd've thrown that ball at the interracial couple to keep your cover, now would you? Fool yourself all you want Booker."
Booker looked to change topics. "Hey. You still haven't told me who the guard is."
"Oh, 'Lil Jim? He's the one who found and hit you. Try to pry an apology out of his mouth. He ain't mute, but he sure is a quiet one. Hell, I'd say he comes a close second at poker, behind yours truly. 'Lil Jim, when you tried to calm Booker, you said more outta' your mouth than you usually do in a week."
The pegasus gulped. "Eeyup."
"What about the other?" Booker asked. "There was another voice before I was knocked out."
"You must've been talking about Spitz," Spade said. "He likes getting his nose into other ponies' business that fellah. In fact, I believe it was Spitz who found you, not 'Lil Jim. Is that true 'Lil Jim?"
"Eeyup."
"Well, that answers why we found you so quickly. Spitz always has a knack for sniffing out trouble. Okay. I believe that's enough about us. Let's talk about Tarot Manor." Spade placed a hoof on one of the columns. "This house was named after those old furtune-telling playing cards. The name is in their honor, dating back to the old ages of the family line. Tarot Manor has been handed down to me from two generations. I'm the third. I know that doesn't sound old, but this is actually one of the oldest buildings in the city. Celestia is relatively new herself. Family got a long line of game-makers. We made a mint out of the 52 deck you use today. All those ponies who did that were ancestors. Our family overheard a little project on a floating city by Clopstock. So we tossed in some bits for construction and we got some of our own turf when it was completed. I'm pretty sure you know the story from there on."
Spade led his guest to the edge of the balcony, overlooking the crowd of randomly assorted quadrupeds. "This the living room. Yes I know. The groups here sure don't look like servants. Servants wouldn't socialize with a mass of masters. Servants wouldn't be drinking, chatting and partying. See, that's their cover. All 'round the room, you see pails, mops, all of the things for chore work. When anypony comes to visit, they act like they've been serving us this whole time. It's the only way to hide them in public. I don't believe in servitude. We all work for and help each other. That's what separates me from the rest of the rich Keepers all across the neighborhood. This manor sheltered scores of lives likely dead or would-have-been Vox recruits. As for the ponies, they got their own homes and stuff. Every week I invite other Idlers to a party at Tarot Manor. Now if you'll follow me Mr. Booker, we'll be heading to the casino."
Most of the manor's space favored entertainment rooms. They, like the living room, were two stories tall and filled up the interior perimeter space. The center of the house was meant to be for the residents. Surrounding the center on the second floor was the balcony, made so that the house owners may view their guests' activities while still near the comfort of their own private rooms. The casino itself was fairly average sized, not big enough for the high rollers but not too small to shun those looking to make a few bits on the side.
"This," Spade introduced with great pride, "is the granddaddy of my business. The casino. I own half a dozen casinos all across the city. I like to think of this place as my little workspace in the comfort of my home. I love the thrill of gambling, the chance, the stakes, it's a buisnesspony's game. Some are just not meant for gambling. They shouldn't have been risking it all in the first place. Wouldn't you agree Booker? Booker?"
Booker didn't like the casino. Gambling was what got him to the floating city in the first place. Booker's chance to remove his debt was his only motive to continue at life. The story was written on his face. The Idlers stood in awkward silence, knowing Spade slipped his tongue.
Booker rose his head from staring at the floor. "I'd like to move on. There's still a mare I have to get from the tower."
"The Alicorn, right." Spade murmured, contemplating whether or not he should let the False Herder out into the open streets with all of Clopstock's ponies searching for him. "No. You must wait 'til nighttime. Not many ponies are out in the streets now. Not to mention nighttime is when you can slip away with my partygoers heading back home. The darkness and crowd should cloak your presence. If you don't get spotted, the news will fade. The police will then have to spread out to all the city. Then, you will have no problem walking in the streets. Scattered police and more citizens about will help you. I at least ask that you stay until hours before sunrise. The guest bedroom is behind you."
"Thank you."
Just like that, the tour concluded and Booker made his way to rest, rest not forced by drowning, exhaustion, or a buck to the back of the head.


*     *     *


"Yeah, got news he's in Tarot Manor. How do you wish for me to proceed?"
"Wait. We'll have a squad closing in to shut down the party."
"And what about the Idlers?"
"Clopstock said that there is no need to attack them unless they're a threat. Now that he's there, is guess there's no reason to keep them alive."
"Understood sir."
"'Lil Jim, What are you doing?"
'Lil Jim turned around to see Spade at the door.
"Nothing boss. Just calling my wife."
"Gee, very talkative today now aren't you?"
"..."
"Whatever. Hurry it up. That phone bill ain't cheep."
Spade closed the door behind 'Lil Jim.
"One hour. Be ready." 


*     *     *


Spitz was ready to take all the chips at the center of the pot. Going all in at Texas Holdem, he knew that the next card didn't even matter at this point.
"Come to Papa."
Before he could scrape his doubled cash, he had a combo: floppy right ear, knee twitch, floppy right ear, twitchy tail. Oh no. Spitz abandoned his earnings to go and see if he could try to stop the events soon to come.


*     *     *


"Booker! Wake up! Come on! Wake up!"
"Wha?"
"This ain't a joke. We gotta get you out of here real soon. The police are coming."
Booker jolted out of bed. His eyes able to make out a blurry Spade. "Where?"
"I don't know. What I do know is that they'll barge through the front door soon. We need to get you to safe-"
*BANG*
The powerful sound of the gunshot inside a small closed space rung through Booker's ears. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on getting his hearing back. As they opened, Spade was replaced with a guard with a gun between his teeth. The barrel was still smoking. The figure turned its head to Booker.
*BANG*
Booker could feel the cold of his flesh through the lethal wound. He took one last look at himself.
*CLUNK*
He saw his chest had no bullet holes. He turned to face his killer, now down on the floor. Behind him was another pony. Booker looked down at his chest to make sure it was him who wasn't shot. The only standing gunner left tossed his gun away and knelt down to the guard.
"I trusted you," he said. "You killed us all. Why Jim? Why?"
The figure on the floor didn't respond. Whether it was because of his nature or he was dead, he wouldn't speak. Booker used an illumination spell dead center of the room to see what was going on. Three ponies, a dead 'Lil Jim, a shot Spade, and a third crying earth pony guard, took part of the bedroom massacre.
The earth pony glared at the spell caster. "We can still get you out of here. They've probably already breached after they heard the noises."
Shouts and screams could be heard in the distance. Echoing gunshots followed. "The fight has already begun. We have to hurry." 
Booker got out of his bed. He grabbed his pistol and rounds from the top of the dresser. He stopped when he heard groaning. Spade survived the shot, barely. "Pick me up."
Booker ripped the bedsheets to provide Spade with something to hold the blood in his system. The shot landed on Spade's right cutie mark. The red hole went through the stem of the black spade of his mark. Booker and the guard wrapped the right leg to hold the bleeding. Booker then placed Spade's body on his back.
The colt washed off the saliva from 'Lil Jim's scoped revolver and placed it on his holster. "We haven't been properly introduced False Herder. I'm Spitz, the guy who asked about Clopstock's voxophone log."
"Yeah. I kind of figured that out."
"Here's the plan. We have to hold off Clopstock's army until you can get out of here safely. You and Spade have to head upstairs. Just get your flank up until you reach the rooftops. I'll provide cover fire from behind. Just keep going. No matter what."
"Got it."


*     *     *


Tarot Manor turned into a warzone. The police were firing from the windows outside. The Idlers were all across the main entrance. Many took to the high ground for overwatch. Others took cover behind tipped over furniture. In between the two sides was a death trap. Corpses from both forces lay in the center of the battle zone. Booker was to go carry Spade around the second story balcony to the dining room. From there was a straight shot up to the rooftop.
Booker just ran. There was no getting to cover. He just took two 90 degree turns around the second story balcony to reach the dining room on the opposite end of the building. Booker couldn't hear, couldn't think, couldn't feel. He could only run. That's how most ponies' mindsets were in a war. They lose their train of thought and their senses. All that's left is their survival instincts. There is no trick in running across the battlefield. Go as fast as you can and hope you make it out alive. Luckily for Booker, the run to the dining room was a straight shot with no incidents.
As soon as he was in the clear, Booker placed Spade off of his back and laid him against the wall. Booker looked around. Other Idlers have taken refuge. The dining room looked like a hospital. Idlers with wounds lay on the floor. Some walked around to provide the little medical experience they had. Others were crying. It was chaos.
"Booker." Booker turned his head to see Spade. The bed sheet was soaking red. Spade handed Booker a key. "Get 'The Taxman'."
"Taxman?" 
Booker looked at the key and backed away a few steps. Fellow Idlers were surrounding their boss and attempted to aid him as quickly as possible. Booker hurriedly looked around for any clues to a taxman. He kept talking to Idlers if it was some kind of codename. He observed the names of paintings on the walls. Finally, he spotted a cased rifle on the wall. In bold metallic engravings said: The Taxman. Booker opened the casing with the key. 'The Taxman' itself was a bolt-action scoped sniper rifle. Near the trigger was a grip intended to be held by a claw. Claw grips were made for griffins and diamond dogs. The trigger guard was removable so that hooves could fire it as well. It was also a biped weapon, meaning the wielder must stand on their two hind legs while the other two legs are used to operate the gun. Most guns didn't have that feature because of multiple complaints that standing on two legs ruined the shooter's accuracy. 
Also in the case was a drink. Booker brought it along with 'The Taxman' to Spade. Spade shook his head.
"No. You use it Booker. An earth pony like me couldn't even squeeze that trigger." Booker could tell the weapon was never used. Spade probably doesn't know the trigger guard is removable. "That bottle is also for you too. It's a Vigor. I'm sure Spitz knows how to use it."
The realization suddenly hit Booker. Where's Spitz? Booker frantically observed every Idler in the room. No sign of Spitz. Spitz didn't make it to the dining room. He sacrificed his own life to protect Booker and Spade.
He tried to go back to report Spitz's disappearance, but had trouble getting past the growing crowd. Booker frantically shoved his way to Spade, hoping for a small sign that he was still alive. The mass of Idlers were right however. Spade, the leader of the Idlers, had died.
Booker saw to it now to leave. Turning himself in would only mean that Spitz's and Spade's deaths were in vain. They both died making sure Booker got out of this conflict alive and ready to continue to Monument Island. With that on his mind, Booker went up the stairwell to the roof.


*     *     *


Vinny stood all alone at the top of Tarot Manor. Before all the shooting started, Spitz told Vinny to meet him there to regroup. Spitz was never a liar and could fortune tell almost as good as Clopstock. Vinny sat there for the longest 30 minutes of his life with his only company, the bright night moon. Vinny kept looking up at the moon wishing that every shot he heard wasn't one hitting his comrades. Then, he heard somepony make it to the top of the stairs.
"Spitz!" Vinny cried. His random eruption was exchanged with a saddening frown. The pony who made it to the top was not only not Spitz, but shaking his head. Booker's silent gesture gave Vinny the biggest upset he ever had in his life. The two stood in wordlessness. 
"Take no prisoners!" That moment was interrupted by the hundreds of close-sounding loud gunshots being fired all at once. Vinny jumped and tried to stick to the plan. He could at least die knowing he saved Booker's life.
"Okay. Okay. Okay," Vinny breathed heavily to try and calm himself down. "Do you have the Vigor?"
Booker pulled out the bottle from his vest pocket.
"Good good. Now step onto the side of the house and drink it."
Booker drank the Vigor. His vision turned black and red, slowly zooming in to further distances than he could normally see. Booker quickly jerked his head to the roof's entrance to the house. He heard Clopstock's soldiers making their way up the final set of stairs. Then, his boosted senses returned to normal. 
"Alright and step three. Oh crap they're coming. What did Spitz say? Oh yeah. You need to jump off of the building while activating your Vigor!"
"What!?" Booker knew that there was some kind of powers enabling him to survive, but that was a large leap of faith. He needed some reassuring precautions before he leapt. "Are you sure that was the right Vigor?"
"It may or may not be the Vigor you were supposed to take."
"Wait, you're saying I might not even have the right drink?"
"I can assure you with absolute faith you drank the right one."
"Not very assuring you're saying this out of instinct."
"Oh, almost forgot. When you have the Vigor activated, you'll-"
The bullets got to Vinny's throat before his words. His body fell off the ledge and down to smack the manor's floor. A glaring searchlight placed on the near the front gate light up Booker's vision. The cops were on the ground, on the roof. There was nowhere or no one to turn to.
"There's nowhere to run False Herder. Place your body on the floor and you will live. It does not have to end like this."
Booker took one step back and his leg dangled above the roof's border. He was steps away from falling off of Tarot Manor. He faced the edge and started charging his Vigor. With faith in the ponies who provided him a safe haven, Booker jumped.
> 7. Ouverture la Cage à Oiseaux
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia talks in so much detail. I cannot help but wonder how she knows so much about a story she's not even in yet.

Booker released the Vigor and closed his eyes. He waited, and waited. There was no thud, no splat. The Vigor really did work. When Booker saw it safe to see again, what he found out that his body was actually raising up from his near collision to the floor. Curious to know why, he got his answer from looking to his right. His front right leg was gone. Instead, a fiery wing took its place. To Booker's left was the same. His observations led him to a simple straightforward conclusion. Aaaand, now I'm a phoenix.
Even though Booker would often question logic from something as extreme as this, considering all the bizarre things he experienced this past day, his sense of logic was out the door long before he stepped into the city. So, Booker just accepted the fact that a drink turned him into a phoenix and embraced the moment.
Having bird wings was very unlike anything Booker expected. He thought that it was just multiple flaps to stay above ground level. That wasn't the case. There was a lot more to it. One of the biggest factors contributing to a bird's flight patterns was the wind. The wings need to be in angles adjusting to the wind and navigate their way in the direction he needs to go. When caught against the wind, he tilted the wings again so that they went with the flow. That's all that gliding was about, going with the flow. 
The bullets rushing past him were a real buzz-kill. Had he forgotten that the police were trying to shoot him down, Booker would have let the wind carry him wherever it pleases. It would be hard to not notice he was a flying target anyways. By no means were the cops marksmen, but so many shots whizzed by. It was only a matter of time 'til one got a lucky shot. That time happened sooner than expected.
The effect was almost immediate. Booker started to fold in his right wing, forcing his left to take over and find a safe place to land. He looked at the right to confirm his suspicions. The top of the wing had a trail of blood falling behind him. Booker faced forward only to see a large open window in front of him. Though the hole was big enough to fit his body, poor one-winged flying ended with a sloppy hit to the side of the edge of the window frame before falling inside.


*     *     *


"It appears we have company."
"That we do brother. Seems like this one was too busy enjoying his flight to bother getting here sooner."
"For the record, I would pick flight over fourth-dimensional travels any day. Much less loops and paradoxes."
"You should have thought of that before you stepped through."
"And here we are."
"Odd. This one is the tardiest of them all."
"I already lost track of how many times he passed out. At least he came with a new gun. Better late than never, I suppose."
"He isn't in the right condition to continue onward. His leg is bleeding."
"Treat the gunshot and put him on the makeshift bed. He'll have to stay for a little while."
"More time wasted."
"Or more time saved?"
"Wasted. It delays when the two will be together."
"Saved, considering the painful period of time that happens before it."
"It all depends on when we think he should take his medicine."
"What matters now is that he be ready in a fit state."
"Don't change the subject."
"Need I remind you he is gushing blood."
"You're just finding an excuse."
"We can argue while we heal him."
"A good point."


*     *     *


(To the tune of The Bonnie Blue Flag)
♪ As long as the Union was faithful to her trust ♪
♪ Like friends and like brethren, kind were we, and just ♪
♪ But now, when Sodom treachery attempts our rights to mar ♪
♪ We hoist on high the Celestial Flag that bears a single star ♪

♪ Hurrah! Hurrah! ♪
♪ For harmony's rights, hurrah! ♪
♪ Hurrah for the Celestial Flag that bears a single star ♪

Booker groaned from the morning radio, forcing him to pull his head up from of bed. The music was starting to pierce his ears. It wasn't just the fact that he hated it. He really had a headache. The music was pounding his brain every time the chorus jumped in. He couldn't think with the thing playing. 

♪ Hurrah! Hurrah! ♪
♪ For harmony's rights, hurrah! ♪
♪ We rally around the Celestial Flag that bears a single star ♪

♪ Hurrah! Hurrah! ♪
♪ For harmony's rights, hurrah! ♪
♪ We rally around the Celestial Flag that bears a single star ♪

♪ Then here's to our Celestia, strong we are and brave, ♪
♪ Like patriots of old we'll fight, our harmony to save; ♪
♪ And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer, ♪
♪ So cheer for the Celestial Flag that bears a single star. ♪

Booker moved his hoof to the source of the noise rupturing his eardrums. Reaching his hoof as far as he could, he knew the only way to silence it manually was to get off the bed. Booker scanned the room. Where is that damn thing? I might be able to turn it off with my horn. The radio wasn't too distant. He got a hold of the left dial and rotated it counter-clockwise.
"...making that a total of 34 police lost just two days ago."
Damn, wrong dial. Wait. Booker turned the volume up. 
"Tarot Manor became the scene of a massacre by the Vox Equus. Reports are coming in that none other than the False Herder rallied up the servants of the Manor, convincing them to wage an all-out war against their masters. Spade, owner of Tarot Manor, was one of the many residential victims of the uprising who didn't survive. No other ponies in the Manor were spared by the Vox. Police arrived shortly after. The False Herder contributed to 12 of the 34 police officers killed. The villain was last seen maliciously murdering an unarmed civilian on top of the manor's rooftops, now to a summing spilled blood of 15 innocent Celestial citizens. Afterwards, news has been leaked saying that the colt has been shot down. Police have not given out any evidence saying so, and wish to not speak of the issue. Local residents are advised to stay indoors and report any suspicious activities. Now back to the music."
Booker dialed the volume nob off. His brain started piecing together how he got to a bedroom. The last thing I remembered I was running from the cops, a Vigor gave me wings to escape and... Booker raised his right hoof. As he recalled, his right wing was shot. Sure enough, the limb was bandaged. Now, the only missing piece of the puzzle was how the injury was treated. He couldn't remember it was himself doing so. He hazily looked back at his memories, getting the answer to who the mysterious helper, or helpers were. As much as Booker didn't want to believe it, it was the most logical answer. Whoever the two siblings are, Booker couldn't find them to be real, that perhaps there was still a reasonable explanation as to why two earth ponies are appearing and disappearing out of nowhere. Or maybe he was drugged to think that they were the ones whenever aid came. Whatever was the case, Booker needed to get his flank out of bed. Two days of sleep was plenty of rest to prepare getting one step closer to Monument Island.
While taking careful steps not to further injure his hoof, Booker limped to retrieve all the items on the dresser next to him: his pistol, the "Phoenix Feather" Vigor, the Taxman, his sky-hook, and any other loose papers he obtained on his ride to the lighthouse. He carefully paced his steps around the house, looking for a way out. No more delays, just one straight shot to the tower.
Booker proceeded downstairs too find that the building was also a bar. Though it was hours before opening, two bartenders stood ready to look after its only guest.
"And our visitor awakes," the colt said.
"Better be worth it too. Surgery is not exactly my expertise."
"But we have considered working in the medical field before. Seems it could have suited us well."
"Too late for that."
The mare held up a blue bottle and was blocking the doorway out. Booker snatched it.
"What is this?" Booker asked.
"Salts. Keep high amounts to use more Vigors."
"Staying replenished will come in handy," the colt added.
Booker observed the blue liquid around and back.
"So that's what Fink was talking about," Booker noted. "Thanks for not being obscure for...". His voice trailed off when he realized he was alone again. "...once. Did anypony tell you guys that vanishing mid-conversation is rude?" Booker knew shouting at the empty bar was useless. It gave him some comfort thinking they somehow got the message. He drank the Salts before heading back outside.


*     *     *


The tip of the sun peaked above the horizon, giving Celestia a light orange tone to begin the day. Booker looked around the back entrance of the bar. All that remained was the great backyard, a few square feet of turf and an optional plummet thousands of feet below. In the distance, multiple buildings somewhat close by, but nearly close enough to jump to. The skylines were transporting shipments to other parts of the city. Booker stood on the ledge, looking for a reason to not use "Phoenix Feather" again. He didn't want to try flying with a limping wing nor waste Salts due to laziness of an alternate route. 
*Clank*
Booker tripped on his left hoof. The sky-hook was extracted. Booker got up and flicked his wrist for a few practice trials. Sometimes it worked, other times, it jammed. Stupid thing probably just needs oil. Then he remembered what the sky-hook was used for in the first place. And right there, were a perfectly good set of skyline rails. Booker stared at the inviting joyride.
"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Booker instinctively kept his eyes shut for the next bit. He eased his leg muscles back to ensure he made the jump. He sprung to an all-out canter.
"AAAAAA-"*Clank*
Booker opened his eyes to see that riding the thing was fairly easy. Most of the device did all the work for him. He just needed to jump in the general direction, and the rest could take him. Booker took a few moments to soak in the adrenaline. It felt somewhat like flying, only his body wasn't meant to soar at those speeds. A phoenix's body was meant to. All of this could only be expressed by panting laughs of relief that he was indeed, alive.


*     *     *


"Has the public got word of the tools at his disposal?"
"No sir. Only our troops know of the Vigors and weapons he possesses."
Sheriff Dusty was having a very long week. Even after doing his best to contain the situation 24/7, he couldn't find the False Herder's body. The police couldn't match any eye-witnesses's descriptions of him. The sketches would be more accurate if all of the onlookers took drugs. Thirdly, if the timing wasn't perfect enough, his wife divorced him. She was going to move districts along with his nine-year-old foal. What he needed now was tender, loving, coffee, heavy doses of coffee.
"Send a word to Fink & Fank about the little Vigor leak we have here. Powers in his hooves of that magnitude could be catastrophic. That is, if he's actually dead. I'm not buying it. We have arrangements for the mass burial of our 34 ponies?"
"This coming May."
"The public don't know about the Idlers either, right?"
"Not at all sir."
"Good. Keep it that way. Last thing I need is the press on my flank and the citizens knowing about Spade and his boys. We cannot afford our ponies to know about rebels inside their streets. It'll be chaos. For now, it is between you, me, and the prophet."
"But, we haven't told Clopstock yet sir."
"No. No we haven't. It doesn't matter. He knows. The prophet always knows. You're dismissed."
With a nod, Deputy Wright made his way out of Dusty's office. Dusty rolled his temples and rotated his chair to face the window. He inhaled a big breathe from the cigar in his mouth. I know you're still out there. It's only a matter of time before you show your head again. You won't slip this time.
Somepony was knocking on the door. Dusty realigned his chair. "What, you need to wait for my damn ass approval to open the door?"
The door sluggishly opened to reveal, Dimfeather, the recruit. "Um... I was told to give you news, sir?"
"Is that a question? I don't have all day."
"Well, I am reporting a sighting of a pony riding the skyline to Monument Island. It's likely the False Herder."
"And?"
"*gulp*. And we're waiting for your orders to shoot... sir?"
Dusty slammed his hooves on his desk. Dimfeather jumped. "What the hell do you need my orders for!? If you and your guys see a False Herder getting to Monument Island, you shoot the False Herder getting to Monument Island the moment you see his damn-"
*knockknockknock* "-Sir?" His Deputy Wright walked in again.
"What is it this time?"
"I've been asked to inform you that Dimfea..." The deputy just noticed Dimfeather in the office. He leaned towards Dimfeather to whisper into his ear. Dusty could only hear Dimfeather's responses.
"He...What!? No, you tell him...I...but that...you owe me."
"I will not have privatized conversations in my office! Now somepony tell me what happened!"
"Um," Dimfeather mumbled. "The False Herder is at Monument Island."
"What? Speak up son!"
"Um...The False Herder..." Wright nudged him."-reachedMonumentIsland."
"...". Dusty took the moment to turn to a boil. His cigar fell from his mouth. "WHAT!? You left pending my approval to shoot him, and in your absence, you LET.HIM.GO!?"
Dimfeather and Wright remained petrified. Dusty huffed so much, the movement of his shoulders from breathing looked like an exercise routine. In a relatively quick time, Dusty returned to his collected coolness.
"It's fine guys. It's fine. Now, we just need to surround the place."
Deputy Wright stiffened up again. "Understood sir."
Dimfeather looked at the two with a confused expression. "Sir, I know I ain't the one giving orders, but shouldn't we go in after him as well."
The two superiors exchanged a blank expression. "Dimfeather," Dusty said. "You don't know what's in that statue, do you?"


*     *     *


The police seemed to become a group of blockheads. Booker zipped by a squad on the skyline to Monument Island. They were hollering at him, probably shouting something about Booker getting down, but none of them shot. That was okay for soldiers not wanting to hurt civilians. What really gave Celestia's police the recognition of worst guardsponies was that  that was their only line of defense. At Monument Island itself, nopony was there. It wasn't that Booker was complaining, but now that got his attention. The place was completely abandoned. It was so quiet. No civilians, no police, nothing. The eerie muted island emphasized the cliche squawking of the crows. The posted signs Booker approached nearer didn't make the place very reassuring. They signs had some kind of hazardous message, all different and mysterious as to why they exist where he stood. Booker saw the gate locked, but seeing the bars widespread enough for say a bird to fit through, he decided that a few seconds of "Phoenix Feather" wouldn't harm him. A transformation, a few bird-like hops, and he was good to go into the base of the statue. 
Inside, even larger and crazier signs were posted. There were electrical hazards, quarantine borders, something that would only be used to hold a monster. Booker pulled out the photograph with the sign on it. She was no monster. She was a mare. Booker saw a small detail he missed before. Right above of the Alicorn, etched into the paper was her name.
"Elizabeth."
The building looked like years of scientific equipment and informational research papers were scattered all around the interior. Thick wires, photos and drawings of the mare herself. The place had every definition of creepy. They were experimenting with a mare, treating her like a beast. They were spending so much time researching, nopony would be so paranoid to produce this much research. All of the work was abandoned too. After all, Booker was alone. He decided to bypass all of the electric and scientific equipment and get her out. None of the data mattered to him and had nothing to do with the debt. Booker found the elevator and tapped the button as quickly as possible.
On the ride up, Booker shook his front right hoof. He wasn't limping since he got off the skyline. He decided to check the leg later.


*     *     *


Elizabeth sat on the balcony of the library overlooking the city. While most of the view was obstructed by clouds, it only further hyped her expectations of what hid behind them. That's all she could do at the time, look and hope. Even after her discovery of creating dimensional rifts, her power was limited. What she could open would not be enough to get more than a glimpse out of. She turned to face the bookshelves. She read every book in the library at least a dozen times. Time was always her enemy. She exploited every possible thing to do in the tower. Elizabeth turned to her stomach to tell she was hungry. She remembered that he left 10 minutes ago. He would be back any second with some food.
*Clank*
And there he is.
Elizabeth looked around. There was no sign of him. Instead, the chandelier snapped off. Something fell from the roof onto the library's floor. Elizabeth hesitantly made her way towards the fallen object. It looked like a dead pony. She remembered back in the early days when he used to feed her dead animals. It took a little while for him to figure that ponies are vegetarian. Elizabeth was bedazzled. She didn't think he'd do such a thing. she tapped the body. It groaned.
"AAAAAAAAH!" The pony is alive!? The figure shot up and ran towards Elizabeth.
"No. I'm not here to hurt you."
Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. She honestly did not know what she expected the mystery pony to do. Such a thing never happened in her life.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Dewitt. I've come to get you out of here." He was holding a key in front of him. Without hesitation, he went to the giant locked door, and opened it. 
The sound of whistling dropped Elizabeth's heart before she could get escape. He's here. I need to buy some time. Elizabeth turned upwards and talked to the roof. "In a minute! I'm getting dressed!"
She turned to face Dewitt. "You have to get a head start out of here. I'll follow."
Dewitt nodded. He was about to lead the way out, but saw the room turned to red and a siren howled. The door sounded an alarm. Instead of following her plan, Dewitt grabbed Elizabeth's hoof to indicate that it's now or never. The two galloped their way around the interior of the building, heading back down the way he came. Meanwhile, the statue started rumbling and tearing apart.
"What the hell was that?" Dewitt asked.
"He's the one that's keeping me in my cage."
"I guess this calls for a little prison escape."
Dewitt picked up the pace, forcing Elizabeth to pick up her speed a few steps behind suit. The two made their way to an elevator. He already pressed the button. I can't believe it!, Elizabeth thought. I'm finally leaving this place. Then, she turned her head to see her bedroom.
Elizabeth pointed her hoof. "The see-through walls weren't there before."
"Actually," Dewitt said, "They were always there."
"What's that supposed to...". Elizabeth couldn't believe it. All her life, she was being watched, monitored. "Who would do something like that? What am I?"
"Both can be answered when we get off of this tower."
The elevator door slammed open. Instead of the elevator, he showed up. A giant mechanical portrayal based off of a real bird creature. He bashed his head, trying to break into the small room. Dewitt pulled out a pistol and shot a few times into him. They had little to no effect.
*Ding*
"Saved by the bell," Dewitt said. The elevator door fell on top of the creature, forcing the bird to retreat to the lower subfloors. Dewitt jumped across past the elevator door to the emergency stairs. "I'm not waiting for him to show up again. Best we get to highest ground as fast as possible."
The two dashed up onto the ceiling head of the Alicorn statue. Both were catching their breath, still trying to think.
"So," Elizabeth said. "What happens now."
"We can-"
The dialogue was interrupted by the bird. The platform was assaulted so much, it became unstable. Dewitt and Elizabeth were in free fall. He looked down at a skyline. Dewitt flicked his wrist, but the sky-hook didn't seem to budge open. He focused on grabbing Elizabeth first, then worrying about himself later. He wrapped his right leg around her body. Now, all that was needed was for the sky-hook to pop out. Come on. Come - *Click* -aha! Booker hit the skyline with the hook, and the two were off.
Despite the fact the two were on the railway, the bird would not give up. All around, loud wails and a few crashes showed that he was still hot on their trail. All Dewitt could do was hold onto her and hope they would make it out alive.


*     *     *


"I've done this to her." Celestia sat in the back of the Oasis. In front of her were an earth pony mare and stallion. Celestia put Twilight to sleep right when she ended got to the cliffhanger. Twilight was now twisting as if she were in a terrible nightmare she could not get up from. "Now, the rest of the story is all for her to experience."
"Quite fascinating," the colt said.
"Don't worry princess. I'm sure you know what it must feel like."
"Yes," Celestia frowned. "I wonder if she can forgive me."
"Did you forgive her?"
"No," Celestia confessed. "The day this happened to me was the day I lost it all. I must sacrifice for a better Equestria."
"And you succeeded-."
"-as will she."
"Why can't she just stay?" Celestia pleaded. "She has such a happy life here. The moment she arrived, every letter I received-"
"-was to show how more able she is to accept her true destiny," he interrupted.
"Thinking about her is a selfish thing to do."
"Her life-"
"-or Equestria's?"
"Heads."
"Tails."
"Equestria."
"Twilight."
With a blink of an eye, the two vanished. Twilight remained in that physical nightmarish state, unable to wake up. Celestia knew she wouldn't anytime soon. She laid down next to Twilight. Tears started to drip from her eyes.
"I'm sorry Twilight. I tried to stop it. I'm so sorry."


*     *     *


Twilight got unexpectedly drowsy when she was listening in on Booker's story. This was not natural for her. Twilight was more restless when studious than a caffeine addict with a 100 bits at a coffee shop. Something about the story though made Twilight feel familiar to it, like a child hearing a bedtime story for the thousandth time. She felt it was if it was supposed to cradle her in her sleep. It had nothing to do with the content. Knowing how a story goes can turn the narration into a lullaby. That should not have been the case. It was the first time she, and likely any Equestrian for a thousand years, has heard it since.
None of that mattered now. She was awake. As much as Twilight didn't want to admit it, she decided to confess to the princess she slept through Elizabeth's escape.
"Can you please rewind the story back a little? I want to go back to the part with Tarot Manor, just in case I forgot any details."
"Did I tell you about that? Must've slipped my tongue. We need to be on the move. It might take a little while to explain, Elizabeth."
Wait. That doesn't sound like her voice. Twilight opened her eyes to see she was laying on the sand. This is not the Oasis. She glared at her white coat and pink mane. This is not my body. In front of the beach's fire, sat a colt with an omega (Ω) cutie mark. That's not Princess Celestia.
"What's the matter Elizabeth? It looks like you've seen a ghost."
> 8. Into the Fathomed Divide
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why would Princess Celestia do such a thing?


”That’s not how it went.”


Twilight watched as the world went into rewind. What's going on? Time's going...backwards? The world went back into motion at around daytime. Twilight felt Booker's loose hold around her waist as they zipped through the skyline on amazingly fast speeds. Still, every so often, the frightening shriek of a mechanical bird whizzed by every few seconds.
Subsequently, Booker lost his grip and the two went into free fall. The plummet went straight into the ocean, where Twilight flailed her legs to regain control. Except, it wasn't Twilight. It was Elizabeth moving her legs. She was in control of her body as Twilight could only watch from her point of view. Elizabeth got herself back of control of the violent tides and made her way to shore.
When Elizabeth made land, she was too exhausted to focus on anything besides breathing. She slumped right there on the sandy floor to regain her energy. The last thing she saw was the fuzzy robot flying away from the ocean.


*     *     *



3 Weeks Ago


“Spike…. Spike?” Twilight was busy once again in the basement working on another experiment. “Spike, can you grab me the book over there? I’m busy revising the spell.”
Her #1 assistant was always ready when Twilight needed that extra claw. And this time was no different than the rest. Spike answered the call in less than a minute.
“Spike,” Twilight said. ”The book is on that table over there. Can you please fetch it for me?”
Twilight looked a bit weary, but definitely in better shape than previous times. Every time, Spike would check to see if she forgot to care about her physical condition. Normally it would be as simple as making sure he made her a daisy sandwich or checking when was the last time she slept. 
“Just a pinch of salt…no that can’t be right.”
Spike looked at the book she was referring to, Of Dreams and Memories: The Equine Archives of Starswirl the Bearded. Spike hesitantly handed her the book. “What do you need this book for Twilight?”
“One day, I was reading beside a bookshelf, when suddenly, something hit me on the head. That something is the book you’re holding. It has got to be the only book from Starswirl I never read, because I own all the collector’s sets. One read and idea later, I think of this.” Twilight gladly presented in front of her a flask. “This is, or, is soon to be, a memory potion. It will allow the host to enter another pony’s memories. The pony with the memories just needs that memory casted into the flask, and the host will experience it in their own hooves. I’m almost close to running another test trial. This time it’ll work. I just know it.”
Spike decided to leave this be. Twilight needed absolute focus in order for things to work properly. The sooner things worked for her, the sooner she could leave the basement lab.

...

...

...

“Eureka!”
Twilight cantered out of the lab. “Spike, I got a sample of the working potion!”
She stopped dead on her trail upon realization that it was nighttime.  She turned around to see the bathroom's lights were on, but the door was closed. It could only mean one thing. Spike's taking another seven hour bubble bath. She rolled her eyes realizing that Spike uses that place almost as mush as everywhere else in the house combined. It was like a secondary bedroom to him.
*Ding Dong*
Oh, I wonder who could be at the door so late. Twilight placed the vial on the center desk to open the door. The mailpony who rang the door was holding a letter and a book. Twilight's eyes bulged as she saw a key symbol on the book's cover, a symbol belonging to none other than Starswirl the Bearded. Twilight quickly snatched the two items and slammed the door. She needed total concentration to see the task at hoof.
First, she looked at the letter:

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

The spell contained on the last page of this book is Starswirl the Bearded's secret unfinished masterpiece. He was never able to get it and thus abandoned it. I believe you are the only pony who can understand and rewrite it.

-Princess Celestia

Twilight took no time to start observing the relic draft of the Master Unicorn Magician. She flipped all the way to the last page and recited the incomplete spell:

"From one to another, from another to one, a mark of one's destiny singled out alone fulfilled."

That was it. Twilight looked at the incomplete page again and again. The riddle held no identifyable clues. "That doesn't make any sense. It doesn't even rhyme."
If she weren't tired to the point of collapsing, she might have given it a shot. However, such a task required patience and precision to decipher. Twilight was defeated, and would be forced to have a go at the unsolved spell tomorrow. Little known to Twilight, the following day would change her life forever.


The Morning After Coronation


Even after such a big day was now behind her, Twilight still had a bit of energy left to make her way to bed. Today, like yesterday, had an unplanned schedule full of friendship problems. It didn't start light neither. It started with a bang...literally. A distant explosion woke Twilight up and got her out of bed. She'd begin the day with a lecture to the Cutie Mark Crusaders (again) that unsupervised baking was not a good idea to try for Cutie Mark Marks. For that morning and every day after, she was too busy to notice the missing vial on her desk.


*     *     *



Present


♪ Give me that old-time religion, ♪

♪ Give me that old-time religion, ♪

♪ Give me that old-time religion, ♪

♪ It's good enough for me. ♪

Princess Celestia stood in the center of a large crowd of ponies in white robes. All of them were murmuring in harmony. She looked to her sides to see Booker, Clopstock, and the Luteces, all were chanting along with the choir.

♪ T'was good for the prophet, Clopstock, ♪

♪ T'was good for the prophet, Clopstock, ♪

Celestia noticed that Clopstock stood no longer at her side, but at the front, where his body was slowly being lowered parallel to the water below for baptism.

♪ T'was good for the prophet, Clopstock, ♪

♪ And it's good enough for me. ♪

Clopstock's body had now vanished. He didn't rise from the water. He was completely gone. The crowd's voice started to rise.

♪ It was good for the False Herder, ♪

♪ It was good for the False Herder, ♪

Celestia spun her head. Booker wasn't alongside her anymore. Like Clopstock, Booker submerged into the waters of baptism.

♪ It was good for the False Herder, ♪

♪ And it's good enough for me. ♪ 

Celestia began to join the crowd. At this point, the ponies were continuing to raise their volume, now to a shout.

♪ It was good for the Lutece siblings, ♪

♪ It was good for the Lutece siblings, ♪

♪ It was good for the Lutece siblings, ♪

♪ And it's good enough for me. ♪

Likewise, the Luteces followed. By now, everypony was screaming the lyrics.

♪ GIVE ME THAT OLD-TIME RELIGION, ♪

♪ GIVE ME THAT OLD-TIME RELIGION, ♪

♪ GIVE ME THAT OLD-TIME RELIGION, ♪

♪ IT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. ♪

Celestia was prepared to follow them. She closed her eyes and readied for her dive.

♪ IT'S GOOD FOR PRINCESS TWILIGHT, ♪

Twilight? To her fears, she remained where she was. Twilight took the role instead as she slowly descended. This isn't right. This is not meant to be. Celestia frantically shoved her way through the crowd.

♪ IT'S GOOD FOR PRINCESS TWILIGHT, ♪

♪ IT'S GOOD FOR PRINCESS TWILIGHT, ♪

Celestia made her way to the stage and Twilight's body was almost completely submerged. Underneath the water, Twilight's mane turned a wavy pink and fur a brightened white.

♪ AND IT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. ♪

Celestia dove into the water. Twilight, now a replica of Celestia's former self, continued to fall into the bottomless abyss. Celestia chased after her, trying to save her from the descent. Twilight's body was falling faster than Celestia was swimming. She continued to swim, willing to go as far as she could to retrieve Twilight. But, the darkness of the sea made Twilight no longer visible. Celestia felt a tug on her back forcing her back. She flailed her legs in a hopeless attempt at regaining control over her drop into the pitch-black void.

"TWILIGHT!"
Celestia gasped for air, taking in the worst nightmare she had for quite some time. Besides her, everything was as where she remembered. The Oasis remained unscathed and Twilight remained on her cushion, still shifting napping positions in her wakeless dream.
"You can come out now Luna."
A light purple smoke gathered near Celestia until it formed into a mare with a starry night mane.
"I sensed your nightmare, sister. I had to pull you out."
Celestia nodded. The two Alicorns broke eye contact to glimpse at Twilight. Her eyes were closed tightly. Only the crackling fire of the torches dared to make noise. For the longest time, neither said a word. Luna instead comforted her sister by nuzzling her neck. Celestia embraced Luna’s pity.
“The eons pass like minutes,” Luna said. “Now Twilight Sparkle will learn the truth, our truth.”
“Elizabeth’s truth.” Celestia picked up a distant blanket and placed it on Twilight. That made Twilight loosen her struggle. Her eyelids no longer held a tight grip. “The seed of the prophet shall sit the throne… 1000 years. It's been over 1000 years since the city fell. She’ll experience it herself. Then, and only then will she know what we’ve been through.”
"What's done is done. Now, we wait and watch the cogs we put in place get set into motion."


*     *     *


The only answer Twilight could regard as possible was the only one she didn’t want to believe true. No matter how much she looked at the situation, Princess Celestia must have known. She must’ve used the potion. After all, they were her memories, not Twilight’s. Still, acceptance was a slow cold dagger to Twilight’s heart. My mentor…she…abandoned me. It was a trap. The set-up was too well for it not to be. A missing potion at the same time as Starswirl's book, an invitation to reveal classified information hidden for a thousand years, an isolated room, the tale of a lost city: What better way to encounter the city itself than through memories? The evidence was all there. What she lacked was motive.  Princess Celestia was the last pony Twilight would expect to set her a trap. It was out of character. Then again, Celestia hasn’t been herself ever since this started. But imprisoning me in her memories! It can’t be her. It just can’t.
Twilight felt like crying her heart out, yet she didn’t. She felt like shouting out until she could no longer shout; yet she didn’t. She couldn’t for one reason; it wasn’t what Elizabeth did. Elizabeth wasn’t betrayed by Twilight’s mentor. She was rescued from her childhood prison. Elizabeth had no real reason to be sad. Twilight had lost control over Elizabeth. Elizabeth opened her mouth from the uncomfortable silence.
“So,” Elizabeth said. “Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why? Why did you go through the trouble of getting me out?”
Booker gazed into the fire. “It’s business.”
“What kind of business?”
“It’s the kind I don’t question. Somepony wants me to get you out, I get you out.”
“What now then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m free now. What about you?”
“…You’re not free. You’re not free until we get you out of this city.”
“Why the rush?”
“Are you going to keep pounding me with a bunch of questions?” Booker’s voice wasn’t any bit irritated. It was a joyous tease.
“I’ll try to hold them in. I guess it’s because I haven’t talked to anyone from outside since I can remember.”
“Well, can’t say that I blame you. Trust me, those questions will answer themselves the longer you’re out of that tower.”
“I guess.” Elizabeth laid her back on the sand, looking up to the night stars. She did not sleep for quite some time. She slowly closed her eyes.


*     *     *


“Wakey wakey Alicorn.”
Elizabeth couldn’t feel her legs. Turning to a full panic from the null limbs and new unfriendly voice, Elizabeth rapidly tossed her head around to find some way to escape. It was useless. Her legs were chained and her horn had a magic cancellation ring around it. Around her were animals of all sorts: griffins, mules, zebras, even a few ponies. Each and every one of them covered in red. Behind them in the dark lurked countless others.
She turned her head around and around. The sudden change in scenery was hard to take in after staying in a few rooms for almost all of her life. But also, somepony else was missing.
"Mr. Dewitt? Mr. Dewitt!?"
"Aw...our valued guest misses her protector already. What, we aren't good enough?"
Dozens of sinister chuckles followed. Elizabeth could not see the source of the voice. The ring of light around her wasn't large enough for her to see any of the walls, making the group's unknown size all the more menacing.
A hoof...no...a claw slammed it's way inside the ring. The griffin slowly brought herself into the light. Her dark scowl slowly crept upwards to a malevolent grin.
"Oh, you don't know how long 'ol Daisy's waited to see your pretty little face again, love." The griffin slowly rubbed the back of her claw down Elizabeth's cheek. "What's the matter? You look nervous."
> Notice of Republish (NOT CANCELLATION)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

TL;DR (Highly recommend you read whole thing)This fic is officially discontinued in its current state, but I'll see to it to attempt something related, if not a polished version of this story. Point being, I can't continue with what I have now and need to start from scratch. 

What this means for YOU, the reader, is that I'm indecisive with this fic (meaning no more updates). One thing I'm certain about is that it's on the verge of collapsing if I go on. I was here all this time, and while I did spend a considerable amount of time outside of internet-related things in my life, I could not, for the life of me, produce another chapter. I know where I want to end it all, I have a game plan, but I lack motivation. It's the same motivation and enthusiasm for one of my favorite games of all time to try and keep it going. I tried to make a fic that had both the vibe of Bioshock's surrealism while maintaining the structure of some dystopian Equestria, and you guys have supported it gratefully. For that, I thank you all. However, after rereading my story, I find rehash ideas from the game and pony cameos where there could have been room spent on something more potent. I do not, by any means, regret all of my decisions when making my Equestria: Infinite. But, I do regret too many to the point where I must know when to call this quits.

The idea is still there. The setting is still there. My hopes of producing a well-written connection between the two worlds remains as well. And I believe the next step forward is to think and reproduce a crossover with more thought than copy/paste to the original game. So, as I stated before, I'm not sure what to do as of now.

Equestria: Infinite WILL remain here no matter what. And, I will not change the story's status to cancelled until I'm certain I shall leave this project as it is. But I must say that I MIGHT ditch this idea to make something that is much more along the lines of my intentions from when I first joined Fimfiction.

So I say to you readers, followers, and supporters, that I have not given up yet. This discontinuation will hopefully spark my interests once more to make something related with what I originally had in mind. Unfortunately, I cannot say how or when, for I have not figured out a new approach just yet. But I have decided to officially address this to those concerned for the future of this project.

I will start anew. I will try again. Thank you for the support of simply reading through my works. I promise to make something better from my learning experience with this fic. Until a new idea arises, farewell.