//------------------------------// // The Preliminary Match: Rope in the Morning // Story: Magical Deathmatch // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// When Applejack heard the knock, she stood up on the bed and shook herself down. Rarity was still lying in hers where she’d lain down the previous day. Another knock, and Applejack rolled out of bed. “I couldn’t sleep,” said Rarity. She hadn't moved. “Ah’ll get the door then, shall Ah?” said Applejack gently. She yawned on her way over. The pig stood outside the door, ugly teeth on display in a long-snouted sneer. Applejack looked down at its hooves, still rubbing her left eye. A gigantic coiled necklace lined with horseshoe-sized diamonds glinted back up at her, along with one or two other things. “What in the world is this for?” she mumbled. The pig – Peccary, she guessed – lowered its head and nudged the diamonds closer to her. Then it looked up expectantly. Shrugging, she reached down and brought the coils up for inspection. Funny. Looks as heavy as an iron chain, flexes like normal rope. She gave it a few experimental swings. A bit like rodeo. Applejack slung it over her head and shoulder. She picked up the thing that resembled a tiara, except the spikes were silver, the base was black, and sapphires gleamed around its rim. “This stuff important?” she said. The pig snorted, blasting a hot breath and flecks of snot into her face, and then trotted down the stairs and out the open front door. Beside her, Rarity hobbled over to the next device. “Do we get breakfast?” Rarity yawned and covered her mouth. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. “I ask purely out of idle curiosity.” When she spotted the tiara, she hesitated for a moment. She looked up at Applejack, who could only shrug. Then, slowly, cautiously, Rarity reached down and placed the tiara onto her own head. Good grief. Even through whatever haze had Rarity trapped without emotion, something of the artist still lived on. Applejack sighed with relief. She heard clanking noises from below, and her gaze drifted down the stairs to a doorway she hadn’t noticed last night. While Rarity hummed and inspected the other bits of jewellery, she adjusted the diamond rope around her neck and stepped down. On the other side, at the bottom of yet more stairs, Flim and Flam bustled about a gigantic boiler. She recognized the two beds and the mishmash of devices all over the place. Whistle… chug… hiss… whistle… chug… hiss… No. That can't be the same one, can it? Maybe it just looks similar. But then why? One of the brothers turned around when she came down the steps. Flam tilted his hat. “Well now, first letter of the alphabet, first pony to rise out of bed!” He nudged Flim, who put down the scrap metal he was working on to beam at her. “You’re just in time to see our latest technological marvel.” Flim levitated a backpack bulging with the effort to contain a quartz block bigger than itself. “The Heal-Fast Health Hazard 215, guaranteed to speed up your body’s natural healing abilities. Always a boon in a fight!” “I see you’ve chosen our customized Ice Lash,” said Flam, jiggling the edge of her rope. “Excellent choice, excellent choice, and of course an entirely suitable weapon for a rodeo champion!” “Knock it off, fellas.” Applejack batted his hoof away. “What the hay is your deal, anyway? Ain’t you s’posed to be with the underground?” Now, their faces turned white. Both brothers whipped around and shushed her frantically. “Don’t go flapping your lid just any old how!” Flim levitated the backpack over to her. “Anyone caught working with the underground had better hope they’ll never ever be found out!” “Anyway, you’ve got no excuse to be angry with us,” snapped Flam, and his brother released his magical grip and dropped the backpack hard on her spine. “We would’ve gotten you out of here safely if you hadn’t flown off the handle so quick.” Wincing at her back pain, Applejack said, “So there is a way out, then?” “Not for you anymore. We can only get one newly captured pony out at a time, and even that’s risking our necks with all the Diamond Bites and pigs around.” “How sweet of you,” Applejack muttered. “Just because we’re crooks who’d ruin families for profit,” said Flim smartly, “doesn’t make us bad ponies. At least you were alive when we stole your farm. Which by the way we still technically own.” There was a slight, subtle, but nonetheless strangely loud shifting of the straps as Applejack braced her legs. “Not that we’ll be claiming it, of course,” he added hastily. “Delegation is the way forward. Now, time to go. Your audience awaits. The pig’s waiting outside to escort you to the arena this morning.” “How can you tell it’s mornin’?” Applejack said, relaxing again. “There’s no sky down here.” Flam pointed at a mass of clockwork running on one wall. “Timekeeping devices. You'll find them all over the place if you look. Now, off you go, hero! Make Equestria proud!” “Come back in one piece! And trust to our technological triumphs to keep you safe!” Applejack gagged, but nodded as politely as she dared while the rest of her voted for violence. Flim and Flam weren't important right now. Outside, Applejack walked onto a street that didn’t look any different from last night: dark, grim, and populated by ponies determined not to look at anything too closely. The pig shuffled its hooves, looking strangely embarrassed for a giant hairy killing machine with tusks. To her relief, Rarity was standing there stiffly, looking more like her old self with her elegantly curled mane and false eyelashes fluttering under each blink. On her head, the tiara glinted. She could've been royalty waiting for the gilded coach. Applejack gawped for a moment. When Rarity saw her, she nodded primly. There was no expression on her face. “Uh. Where’s Cheese?” Applejack said, struggling for conversation. “He went on ahead to make preparations.” Rarity’s voice was dull and listless. “How you holdin’ up?” Now Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “Just you wait until we get to that arena. Then we’ll see how I’m ‘holding up’.” The pig grunted and led them down street after street at a trotting pace. Around them, the crystal ponies chatted and murmured excitedly, in spite of their dull coats, and after a few streets she noticed they were all heading in the same direction. Crystal guards appeared every few yards in the crowds, and always in pairs. Despite the knot in her stomach and the backache under her bulging pack, Applejack began to feel lighter. She had a rope around her, and there was going to be a show. That screamed rodeo to her bones, even if her mind knew different. To see all those watching wide eyes around her, the fence hemming her in, and yet the freedom, the absolute freedom of the rope, flailing wherever she wanted it to flail like it was a psychic extension of herself… They turned the corner and entered a solid press of crystal pony bodies. Up ahead, the pig squealed and grunted in its own language, easily clearing a path as the crowd yelped and jumped out of its way. Smiling faces met her from all angles. Excited chatter ran through her ears. Feeling slightly stupid, Applejack raised a hoof and waved. If anything, the smiles and chatter intensified. Applejack slowed down to fall in alongside Rarity, who was beaming regally but otherwise ignoring the crowd. “Why’s everyone lookin’ at us like that?” Applejack whispered. “Because they are unprincipled barbarians who want to see us chewed up and spat back out,” Rarity hissed back, but she was still smiling. “I intend to leave them extremely disappointed.” “Rarity, you’re startin’ to scare me a li’l bit.” Rarity’s lips trembled for a moment. “Applejack, if we are going… If we are going… out into the dying light today, so to speak… then I intend to do so with dignity. After all, there's nothing else we can do, is there?” Applejack said nothing. She rubbed her snout against Rarity’s unresisting cheek. At that moment, she couldn’t think of anything else. Looming over their heads, the arena was a crystal Coliseum, a solid cylindrical block that had punched itself up and out of the ground. Here, torchlight gave way to floating, glowing gemstones and waving searchlights. Ponies crowded around the arches, watched in turn by crystal guards. Carved figures smiled out from over their heads, tucked away in endless lines of alcoves like ancient statues of gods greeting their subjects from up on high. An excited foal rushed out and bumped into the pig. With a roar, the pig sent it screaming and crying back into the crowd. Applejack saw the bow on the filly's head, and for a moment needles jabbed into her. Just like Apple Bloom’s… Ah promise you, Apple Bloom. One way or another, we’re gettin’ out of here. Ah’ll take you to my next rodeo in Canterlot. Ah ain’t gonna forget. She blushed at the memory: a young filly, hat way too big for her head, cheering her on as she, Applejack, leaped over hurdle after hurdle. Apple Bloom always used to cheer her on, even when she tripped one day and fell into the mud. Apple Bloom always used to look at her as though she could do anything. The pig stopped next to an archway untouched by any crystal ponies. Applejack shot a glare at it as she passed through, and then all three of them entered another moving hexagonal platform and waited for it to sink down to the next level. Cheese Sandwich was waiting for them in stables that looked almost exactly like the ones they’d seen yesterday. No cake, though, Applejack thought glumly. “Good morning, Applejack and Rarity! My, aren’t you ladies looking lovely this morning!” He gestured towards a table piled high with cakes and sandwiches and salad bowls. “Hungry? I can rustle up anything from the Magical Deathmatch cafeteria! I've got friends among foes here!” Both stomachs rumbled. It had been a long time for them to go on nothing but a cake slice. Rarity sighed. “I suppose a petit déjeuner would help.” “The others should be along in a minute.” Cheese helped himself to a victoria sponge cake. “Nothing like a good, hearty sugar rush to get you in the mood for fighting, eh?” When Applejack finished her apple, she left the dainty crunching of Rarity behind her and stepped through the next doorway. She ignored Cheese’s attempts to sing about how great it was to have new teammates. This room held lockers and benches and, for reasons that weren’t clear to her, an exquisitely complicated glass chandelier burning brightly overhead. Of course, everything looked like it had been carved out of quartz, since it probably had been. This was crystal pony territory. Still, under the blue shine of the chandelier and the hieroglyphic carvings along the exposed facets of the walls, it was nonetheless a glorified locker room. Practical. Straightforward. Useful. Hoo doggies, this is more like it! Applejack uncoiled the Ice Lash and tied the end into a lasso. It even whipped through the air with the same whoosh and swish of rope. Clenched between her teeth, the rope did everything she commanded. If she wanted a few loops to swipe back and forth, the afterimage still lingered as she’d remembered it. If she wanted to crack it at the locker door hard enough to dent it, there were soon enough dents on the one to form her own “AJ” initials. Another flip, and she’d phased through the swirling rope as though it weren’t there. Just like old times. See! The back-flip trick she’d pulled to win the blue medal three years ago. There! The complicated three-ring orbit that only the likes of Calamity Mane could top. Now for the Hurly-Burly Appleloosan Swirly… When she’d finished, the rope tied itself into a butterfly shape. A flick of her neck, and the thing unwound itself. A jerk back, and it coiled around her neck. Flim and Flam were ever so slightly forgiven. Ah’m home, she thought. Ah don’t need no hat. Ah know who Ah am now. Hoofsteps tapped the crystal floor behind her. When she turned, she saw Rarity and Cheese Sandwich lead into the room – she did a quick headcount – ten ponies. Eyes widened and teeth were bared in horror. Not a pony among them looked ready for combat. They lacked the bulky musculature of a military type and even the sinewy, callused legs of a farmer used to bucking trees. If any of this lot received weapons, they’d be more frightened of the things than any prospective victim would be of attack, if only because any such victim would merely have to sit and wait for them to knock themselves out. Wait… Coco and Trenderhoof stared out from the back of the crowd. At once, Applejack looked away. Those stares were a silent cry from every horrified heart in the locker room. She could spot the naked worm of fear trembling within each pupil. Someone pushed and shoved their way to the front of the crowd, and Applejack suddenly had to kick down some extremely violent urges. It was Suri. Eat or be eaten, she'd said. Bet it don’t sound too good when it’s someone else doin’ the chompin’. Applejack opened her mouth. What the heck can Ah say, though? Ah can’t cheer ‘em up. They’d think Ah was makin’ fun of ‘em. Ah can’t hit ‘em with the truth. Rarity’s right. Ah just don’t have the tact. Fortunately, Cheese Sandwich zipped across the room to address them from atop a bench, sparing her the need to make herself a target. “All right, troops!” he said, and Applejack groaned. First mistake already. “There’s a chance we’ll all get out of this OK, so don’t you worry about a thing. Old Cheesy’s here to see you through this match. And I ain’t gonna lie: it’s scary –” Several ponies cringed. “It’s uncertain.” They drew their heads into their shoulders. “It’s probably not gonna be everyone who comes back in here.” Trenderhoof gulped. “But darn it, I’m your Captain, and I say nuts and raisins to that! Because we’ve got the BEST DARN TEAM OF ALL TIME! There’s no one here who hasn’t been chosen because of how awesome and skilled and willing to fight for what’s right… you are. Ladies and gentlecolts, Team Rosebud is the greatest team of ponies IN THE WORLD! AM I RIGHT!?” Nearby, Rarity’s face clenched against the onslaught of optimism. No one cheered. No one even smiled. Behind Applejack, another door slid back and then slid shut with a whoosh and a clank. She turned and immediately hit a pyroclastic flow of stinging, burning, eye-watering, choking, and strangely overheated perfumes. The air almost turned white. Whoever had applied it had never heard of the word “moderation”. “Ah,” said Cheese – Applejack sidestepped out of the way – “Team, I’d like to introduce you to our assistant, the lovely hostess Mineral Cure of the Quartz Quarter! Give it up for her, ladies and gentlecolts! Woo!” In the surrounding silence, his clapping hooves soon faded away. For her part, the newcomer merely continued beaming as though no one was contemplating a rush attack. Several ponies leaned forwards against their own mental leashes. It was a wonder she kept smiling. However, Applejack had hung around the likes of Pinkie Pie for too long. That smile was too wide, that skin slightly too stretched. And those eyes had nothing to do with what was going on elsewhere on the face. Mineral Cure bowed. “It is absolutely my pleasure to welcome you all to our prosperous city. Our citizens are so excited. They can’t wait to see you all in action.” “And they’re getting cake afterwards!” Cheese said, and then he wilted under the deadly chill. “How wonderful. But first, I am here to better convey to you all the honour you are about to enjoy. Please consider this humble technological offering.” From behind her, a single Diamond Bite floated to the side. It split into four and spread out. Lightning bolts zipped from corner to corner. Applejack almost jumped. Someone behind her yelped. Then the diamond space between all four lines of lightning fizzed and sputtered. An image wiped across. Officer Feldspar. Grinning at them. And, for some reason, wearing a helmet. “Hello, boys and girls,” she said, crisply if chirpily. “Witness the marvels of Antipodean City! Right now, I’m far enough away that even an explosion right under your hooves couldn’t reach my ears, and yet with these little doohickeys? Instant chatterboxing! Bet you’d love one of these. Think of all the distant relatives you could talk to.” A scuffle: Cheese had to restrain the sudden surge of Rarity straining to purge that face from existence with her bare hooves. “Come down and say that!” she spat. “And this is just the start,” continued Feldspar, but she gave Rarity a sidelong glance that revealed nothing. “You should have noticed by now that there are exactly a dozen of you, not including ancillary support. Twelve is the standard size for a team. Don’t worry if you lose a few members; we’ve got plenty more in reserve.” “Cut to the chase,” snapped Applejack. “Oh, I will, Little Miss Hardcore. That’s a pun, by the way.” No one laughed. Annoyance flickered across Feldspar’s face before she cheerfully continued. “Your job is stupid-simple. Each one of you is given a weapon and a Bite for communication between your teammates and Captain Sandwich. Trouble is, so’s your opposition.” Coco burst out with a sudden, sodden, hopeless sob. “In a moment, we’ll have the sandy arena ready for the big show. All you have to do is wipe out the opposing team. Frankly, I don’t care how many of you kick the bucket, so long as at least one of you is still breathing when the last opponent goes boom. Easy-peasy, right? Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Imagine the hype! Especially…” Applejack matched her stare for stare. Feldspar’s grin could’ve eaten sharks. “Especially given the special guests coming out today.” “Shove it, lady,” muttered Suri. “Oh, and uh” – Feldspar chuckled – “one last thing, one good last thing. The first pony who refuses to play ball will be disqualified.” Suri gave a strangled cry so loud that everyone turned to see her paling face. Her ears fell down with shock. “Dis… qualified…?” she managed to warble. “Of course, you’ve already seen what that looks like. And cleaned up after it. Well, good luck! Make me proud, folks! And rest assured we’ve got mops and buckets ready. Toodle-oo!” The mouth giggled. The picture fizzled out. The Bite closed. Then it opened again. “Obviously, we’re not using mops and buckets. Doesn’t work on sand. But you get the idea.” The Bite closed and zipped out the door. “There,” said Mineral Cure, her voice exactly like her smile. “Now you are quite prepared for the challenge ahead of you. It certainly sounds like fun.” “Er, yes,” said Cheese, who shook the wild stare off his face and beamed at the surrounding gaggle. “Think of it as a really big party game! Everyone gets to join in, you meet new ponies, and if you get into the spirit of the thing, there’s plenty of fun to be had by all! And cake! Don't forget that cake!” “WHAT!? Did they cream your brains when you joined up, you moron?” Suri yelled, and as the head of the mob – at least, the sorry excuse that passed for a mob – she drew more than a few glances and a bit more fidgeting from the other ponies. “We’re gonna get thrown into an arena with no training, no decent weapons, nothing but a bunch of other ponies trying to turn us into tomorrow’s dumpster dish!” “Well… er… yeah, but… but… but so will the other team.” Cheese’s smile lived up to his name, but crumbled much faster. He even stank like it. For a moment, Applejack wondered if he’d ever had to deal with someone like Suri before. “And we get no help neither,” said Suri. “Er… that’s not entirely true,” said Cheese, and he coughed awkwardly under all the stares spearing him. “As Captain, I, uh, provide moral support… from the sidelines…” “Thought so,” said Suri, her words a cold slam of the coffin. At the back, Coco blushed and hid her face behind a hoof. She was starting to tremble. “And while we’re getting our haunches kicked,” said Suri, “and you’re shouting sweet nothings at us, you know what we’re supposed to do, right?” Winces twitched out of faces like mice in boltholes. Hooves scuffed the floor. The air practically shimmered with sweat. Suri was making no friends, but at least she let a bit of life out of the group. Secret fears prepared to bolt out of burrows. Applejack glanced across. To her distress, Rarity remained tight of lip, diamond-eyed, and still. Sweetie Belle’s ghost might as well have floated over her, whispering horrors. Applejack breathed deeply and stepped forwards. At once, several faces jolted with recognition. A couple of ponies murmured under their breaths to each other. “Suri's right. Truth’s truth; it ain’t good,” she said, and Suri nodded and mouthed “thank you”. “But what else is there? We can’t run away, or they’ll get us. We can’t fight them, or they’ll get us. We can’t reason with ‘em, threaten ‘em, nothin’.” “Too right,” said Suri. A few wary nods braved the nightmare here and there. “There’s just one chance. Ah don’t know about you, but Ah’m not fightin’ for some crazy psycho pony who’s sicker than sick. Ah’m fighin’ for that chance. And Ah’m givin’ it everythin’ Ah got. That's the job right now.” Her gaze briefly settled on Trenderhoof – who glared and nodded – Coco – whose cheeks were stained but whose eyes remained hidden behind a hoof – and finally, painfully, inevitably, Rarity. Who was struggling not to heave with each breath. Applejack sighed. “Maybe tomorrow, there’ll be a way out. Maybe not. But we won’t know until we get there, and that means gettin’ through today, got it? Ah’ll do what Ah can for you. Ah’m sure we all will. We're in this together. Just… just let’s get it over with.” Next to Suri, one of the mares coughed. “Uh… she mentioned weapons?” At this, Mineral Cure – who’d lurked on the margins smiling at everyone – stepped forwards and nodded. “Finest crystal weapons in Antipodean City. Please, those who haven't been armed yet help yourself.” Mineral Cure stepped aside. A table that certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago now crackled with lightning and shone with more Diamond Bites. It seemed to be made of nothing else. Piled on top were… well… Applejack watched at the ponies listlessly plucked whatever was nearest or left over. Some attached hoof-shaped devices to a leg each. Some put on helmets. Some put on saddlebags or backpacks. Some levitated things that crammed quartz, sticks, and pulsing lights along nozzles as though the designer had failed to make up their mind. Trenderhoof took the opportunity to step over to her. “O Apple of My Eye, how I’d hoped to see your beauty once more before the end!” “Knock it off, please. This is serious.” He looked so crestfallen that she relented to add, more softly, “Anyway, who says this is the end?” “I must say,” he said, refusing to look up, “I’ve encountered some exceedingly rough places on my travels, but a deathmatch! It’s barbaric! Even the Ancient Pegasus Empire abolished gladiator combat thousands of years ago! And that was voluntary!” “Right. Good.” Applejack craned her neck to see over him. Every single pony either held their weapons as though handling something a cat had dragged in, or simply stood staring as though the weapons had them entranced. Suri grimaced; she’d probably never hefted anything heavier than a sewing machine. Applejack patted her own Ice Lash wrapped across her chest like a bandolier. Opposite, Rarity’s tiara gleamed. It was starting to creep her out. She made to join Rarity’s side – “Very good!” said Mineral Cure once Coco dropped the last weapon out of sheer nerves. “While we wait, I could obtain food and drink for those who’d like it?” “Carrot cake for everyone!” cried out Cheese. Suri gaped at him. A few weapons clicked or locked into place. With remarkably good timing, Mineral Cure backed out the door. Her smile remained fixed like a shield the whole way. “Cheese,” said Applejack hastily, gripping him and drawing him away from the others. She turned to check; ponies returned to staring and hefting crystal things. “Can Ah talk to you for a mo?” “Sure,” said Cheese, blinking in surprise. “What’s the word on the ground, kiddo?” Applejack groaned. His face was back to imitating some stern wandering sheriff. It was like watching an eager-to-please puppy go “quack”. “Ah know you’re only tryin’ to help,” she said as kindly as she could, “but this ain’t no Ponyville, and we ain’t playin’ no games at a Rainbow Dash Birthday Bash neither.” “What else am I supposed to do?” he said gruffly. “Take the Debbie Downer approach? I wrote a song about why that idea stinks. Listen –” Wisely, she placed her hoof on his mouth before he’d even drawn his first breath. Of course, ponies broke out into song all the time in Equestria – it was just one of those little quirks – but they ate up minutes and she really didn’t fancy her last melody being a polka. “Look, Ah’ve been there,” she said, lowering the hoof from his offended face. “Ponies are in over their heads. Everyone’s lookin’ at you to solve their problems with a bit of magic, and you know and Ah know it just don’t work like that. Least not all the time. You can’t tell lies and cover things up, ‘cause when they know you’re lyin’ and hidin’ stuff, they’ll see you as more enemy than friend.” “Now hold on a second –” “Ah’m not sayin’ don’t cheer ‘em up!” Applejack patted him on the shoulder, but stopped at the expression he hit it with. “They know what’s comin’. They need you to keep their hopes alive. But you gotta show you’re Captain for a reason.” “Feldspar pulled my name out of a hat.” “You gotta show you’re Captain for a good reason,” said Applejack without missing a beat. For the first time, he cringed with discomfort. Given that she’d never seen him as anything other than clown, lone wanderer, and possible asylum escapee, the sight of him as overgrown foal stopped her mind short. “Well yeah, but…” He wrinkled his lips. “I know what’s coming.” She gave up. At least if he’d kept up the jokey façade, she could’ve pretended it was nice to go out with a smile. “So there’s cake, right?” she said with a sigh. Life flooded back into Cheese’s face. “Hero’s special! Kid, if we get out of this in one piece, I am personally gonna throw the shindig of the season! The celebration of the century! The merrymaking of a millennium. No. Of a million years!” “That’ll do,” she murmured, and left him booming on about bouncy cities, punch bowl lakes, and enough limbo to jazz up an afterlife. Slipping through the scattering of lost souls, Applejack came up alongside Rarity, who was staring blankly at a full-length mirror and running a hoof repeatedly along the curl of her mane. The strands at the end unfurled and then bounced back. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce. “At least we’re together,” Applejack whispered. Rarity didn’t acknowledge her in the slightest. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce. Helplessly, Applejack reached over her shoulder and drew her closer. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… Rarity held the locks and never let them bounce back. “Heck, we’ve been through plenty of scrapes before now,” Applejack continued, hoping something in her voice would prod life back into the warm, stiff, taut tarpaulin of hide and muscle. She felt so useless, so limp. “Nightmares, chaos, invasions, weeds… We still have a chance.” In the mirror, one mare stood and peered at them both. Even under the barding now being passed around, the orange cutie mark was clearly visible on the pony’s haunches. Strange. Something familiar about the mare… Distant relative, maybe? Applejack could’ve sworn she’d never seen her at a family reunion, but then the Orange side of the family didn’t meet much. Beyond the usual soiree, of course. Wait… barding? Applejack spun round in time to see Mineral Cure pass along the last of the armour plates. Her smile managed to widen despite already bisecting her twisted face. A swarm of Diamond Bites floated around her. “It is time for your performance,” she said smoothly. “Please follow me to the arena for your preliminary match. Oh my, isn’t this exciting?” The others were already moving out. Reluctantly, slowly, tantalizingly, Applejack slid her leg off Rarity’s back and followed. A moment later, hooves clopped on the crystal floor in her wake. Once more, Applejack reached up and patted a hat that wasn’t there. She should’ve been wrapped up in a bed, or relaxing in a bath or in a spa pool. Anywhere else, she felt dangerously exposed without her trusty Stetson. Especially with all these strange ponies around. The only lights came from the stationary Diamond Bites hovering overhead, pulsing gently. Under their faint auras, the tunnel was craggy and heavily shadowed as though the holes and crevices themselves were becoming solid. No one spoke. Even Mineral Cure was content to stride along, humming cheerfully to herself. Applejack shuddered. Last time she’d felt like this, she’d been waiting for her first rodeo. Her stomach even knotted itself with the familiar twists of shame and the spiralling, writhing motions of dread. Except this ain’t a fun li’l match. Beside her, Coco was eerily silent. First Rarity, now her… “You OK?” murmured Applejack, horribly aware of how flippant the question must sound. Coco nodded without so much as a sideways glance. She wore no barding, oddly enough. Instead, she’d gone for nothing more than a talisman, which now dangled down from her neck in suicidal depression. It was even coloured the right shade of asphyxiated blue. To her own surprise, Applejack added, “Listen, you don’t have to do a thing if you don’t want to. Ah’ve had to fight all kinds of monsters when Ah was takin’ apple stock around Equestria. If you find somewhere to hole up, Ah can –” If her own words had caught her by surprise, then Coco’s glower actually made her stumble. “I’m not a baby,” Coco muttered sullenly. “Ah never said you were. It’s just you and Rarity ain’t exactly… suited for this sort of rough-and-tumble stuff.” “No one is. Not really.” Applejack let it go. Last thing she wanted was for Coco’s last moments to be spent arguing. Besides, Coco had a point. Most Equestrian citizens were just… well, citizens. No military training except for those who wanted to join the Royal Guard. And arguably the Wonderbolts. She’d never been clear on their official status. Then again, what if everyone had been trained? Every citizen in Equestria: capable of fighting off enemies? How much work it’d save… No, that was just a pipe dream. Even the Royal Guard – and arguably the Wonderbolts – weren’t much in the defence department. Most national threats were dealt with by heroic quests and powerful magical doodads, not by trained-up squadrons. Then there was time, money, resources, success rate; loads of things could go wrong. Heroic quests. Huh. Heroic quests like hers. Suddenly, that wasn’t such a comforting thought. Even she hadn’t enjoyed throwing herself into the jaws of death. It was just what she had to do. It was no more remarkable than her job tending apple trees and feeding the pigs. All part of the job. At least she'd had friends with her. And now she was surrounded by Rarity – and what was going on in her fashionista head Applejack dreaded to think – and ten ponies whose lives had been largely unremarkable and unchallenging, who were all being led into a deathmatch. Suri had been right. Coco was right. On exactly the same point. “Can’t be that hard if we ain’t had no trainin’,” Applejack suggested, not with much enthusiasm. “In a way,” said Coco thickly, “this reminds me of Manehattan. Of my old job, you know?” Wondering if this was building up to something, Applejack said, “How so?” Still not looking at Applejack, Coco mumbled, “I remember when I first met Suri. She seemed so nice and welcoming at first, and she let me make whatever dresses I wanted. But when I found out she was claiming them for herself, I told her I wanted a fair share of the credit, and it went downhill from there.” Applejack sensed more words waiting to be spoken. Huh. We who are about to die want to get everything out, Ah guess. “I thought it was just her at first, going on about ‘eat or be eaten’. I went to work for a few other ponies for a while. There had to be someone who wouldn’t take advantage, I thought. I was wrong. Most of them were worse than Suri. I don’t know how many times I was dropped the moment I asked for credit, or because I had a creative block, or when I dared to make one amateurish mistake. And there were ones worse even than that. At least Suri let me stay on. She even welcomed me back like she was my ‘best buddy’.” “Yeah. Ah’ll bet.” “It’s all about how useful they think you are.” Yet Applejack wondered, That can’t be right, can it? Aunt and Uncle Orange knew lots of fashion pony types, and they were OK. A bit snobby, maybe, but they wouldn’t dump someone ‘cause they weren’t up to snuff. They wouldn’t use ponies. Anyway, it’s Equestria. Most ponies are decent folk, country or city. Sure, you get a few rotten apples, but not a whole bushel. Rarity’s all set up in Manehattan, and she must know lots of good ponies there. Maybe Coco was just unlucky. Or maybe Manehattan’s changed since Ah was first there? Come to think of it, Ah only stayed with Aunt and Uncle Orange for a few days. Coco sighed. “I thought we could make a difference.” “You did,” said Applejack at once. “You’re not workin’ for Suri no more. You’re workin’ for Rarity. You literally couldn’t find two ponies less like each other.” Up ahead, Trenderhoof cocked an ear while he shuffled on. “Yeah,” said Coco, and so sharp was her voice that Applejack’s ears gave a spasm with each pricking. “But I’m still working for someone else. That wasn’t my dream at all. Don’t you get it? Dreams don’t mean a lot in Manehattan, and they don’t mean a lot here. At least that’s one thing they’ve both got in common.” Suri’s voice sidled up to them and chuckled, but mirthlessly, as though poisoned by bitter medicine. “Sounds like someone’s woken up and smelled the roses, aheheh OK?” “What’s wrong with you two?” said Applejack, fighting to rein in her exasperation. “You’re acting like we’ve already lost.” Suri sighed the sigh of one faced with a complete simpleton. “Pur-lease. Coco’s as naïve as they come, but at least a few of my lessons got through to her. Eat or be eaten, AJ. You precious heroes can’t stay clean here.” Applejack rounded on her. “You’re tellin’ me there’s nothin’ you wouldn’t do to get what you want?” “Calm down, Little Miss High-and-Mighty. Who said I wanted any part of this, OK? We all go through Coco’s stage once or twice.” Finally, Coco raised her face to meet theirs. Her pupils were pinpricks lost in the barren wastes of her white eyes. Already creamy, her skin turned pale. “Suri,” she said quickly, “before we go, I just want to say it was nothing personal when I –” “Spare me,” said Suri in her most uncaring tone. “I found another schmuck. Don’t act like you were anything special, kid.” Coco clenched her jaw tight, but said nothing. She started breathing heavily, heaving her shoulders with the effort. “I wish I could stop this,” she muttered to the ground. “You and me both, Coco,” said Suri, and unexpectedly she gave a heaving sigh of her own. She moved ahead, falling in next to the one mare Applejack was sure must be an Orange. Trenderhoof jumped backwards, wincing as his armour clanked. Right next to Applejack, he whispered, “Now surely you have a plan to deliver us from this evil?” Caught by surprise, Applejack almost bumped into Coco. “What?” “Come now, O Apple of My –” “Ahem.” “Oh, right. Apologies. Come now, Applejack. I’ve heard far and wide of your exploits. Bearer of the Elements, purger of evil, eradicator of evil lords and nightmare abominations.” “Hmm,” said Applejack warily. For the most part, she pretended not to care for this sort of talk. Again, it was just a job. In any case, half of those things weren’t her exploits. Usually, she just happened to be nearby when they went down, and some other poor pony had to go through the trials and tribulations. Not that she wouldn’t have done the same – she felt it in her bones – but life just wasn’t that neat and tidy. Hero work looked glamorous right up until she had to watch a friend get slowly gassed by an eldritch plant from Tartarus. But Trenderhoof didn’t think like that. He was the sort of pony who could watch some hard apple-bucking and call it “the noble and essential craft and practice of the idyllic earth pony, steward of Arcadia, defender of the hungering ones”. And now she wished she hadn’t thought “hard apple-bucking”, because the look he was giving her… “Surely, one as enterprising and determined as yourself has come up with an escape plan?” he said. Utter confidence lounged across his face, leaning forwards slightly. “Trenderhoof, Ah’m sure lookin’ for an escape hatch, Ah promise you, but right now Ah don’t see –” “Excellent, Applejack! Excellent. My faith in your interminable earth pony tenacity has not been misplaced, I see!” Wishful thinkin’, she thought gloomily. He’s just desperate. She glanced back at Rarity. “Sure could do with a hero right now,” she whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear. Then she glanced up ahead. Suri, Coco, Trenderhoof, that Orange one she was almost certain must be a Manehattan socialite… and she didn’t know anyone else. Well, she’d just have to fight for all of them. If she had to. It was a crazy thought, but what else was there? She had a job to do. Not doing it was unthinkable. Finally, the ponies at the front stopped. Applejack did the same. The lights ended here. Mineral Cure turned to address them. “Team Rosebud, you are now about to perform in your preliminary match. May I just take this opportunity to say that you are all heroes in the eyes of the Antipodean citizens. Each and every one of you has a special place in our national consciousness. Prove your worth here, and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.” No one spoke. Beside Applejack, Rarity drew herself up and snorted in her defiance. “Please, stand proud, bring happiness, and above all, enjoy yourselves. This wonderful time has been brought to you courtesy of the Ultimate Supreme Company Executive Officer Feldspar of the House of Silicates.” Several ponies pawed at the ground. Some, like Rarity, took deep, steadying breaths. An unseen mechanism clicked. “We love and admire you all. And remember: only on the battlefield can one see your true selves. Be true. Be you.” An infinity stretched out before them. Lights beamed through the gap. Applejack gritted her teeth. Just another job. She had to think it was just another job.