Sunset wasn’t surprised at the amount of resistance she was getting, but that didn’t make it less frustrating.
“I just want a look at his records. What harm could a little peek really do?”
The bank teller huffed, flipping her blue hair over her shoulder. “Ma’am, as I’ve said several times, this is private information. You can’t just walk in with a credit card and a name and expect to get everything. I need a pin, a verification number, a signature, otherwise this is just credit fraud.”
Sunset pounded her fist softly against her leg, resisting the urge to punch straight through the plexiglass in front of her.
“I understand you’re just doing your job. I don’t want his money or address or anything like that. Just a couple of recent transactions, where his money was coming and going for the past few days. I’m talking tiny bits of info.”
But the teller was already shaking her head, and started a long winded explanation of client privacy, corporate security, and commercial law. Sunset stopped listening. She got the gist; some combination of “never” and “never ever ever.” She walked away, tucking her hair behind her ear and ignoring the teller’s growing shouts. She slipped the credit card back into her jacket with a sigh.
Sunset had been inside that bank for maybe fifteen minutes, and it already felt like she’d lost a third of her soul to that place. Didn’t help that she’d come directly from a crime scene, still trying to wipe death off her hands. She’d known she wouldn’t get anywhere. Banks were stingy when you asked for your own money, let alone someone else’s. Even a whiff of identity theft and the place locked down tighter than Canterlot Castle on Nightmare Night. Which was a shame, considering how useful knowing Dealt Hand’s last couple transactions was likely to be. But without access she was swimming in space without a suit.
Sunset scratched her palms idly. Might be worth tracking down a hacker at some point. She shook her head, and pulled her phone from her pocket. She had one more lead to track down, and daylight wouldn’t last forever. Next stop, Canterlot City Bus Station.
On the drive, she had more than enough time for thinking. Magic forcing its way back into her life, a serial killer in a little blue folder, a pissed off Rarity. Things were going from fucked to fucked with a side of rainbow fucking sprinkles. What was the universe punishing her for? Sunset’s hand clenched against the wheel until it stopped shaking. One job to do. One job, then it was over. She got paid, and she washed her hands of murder, of magic, of Rarity. She caught that shadow of guilt in her head, and crushed it. One job. Anything outside of that, wasn’t her problem.
Sunset had more luck at the bus station. Buses aren’t exactly private, and when the money’s already changed hands, businesses are less picky about sharing information. The girl behind the desk could best be described as pink. Pink hair, pink eyes, pink dress. Like Pinkie Pie fell into a bucket of cotton candy. But apparently, she remembered Dealt Hand.
“Yep. I remember because the guy seemed really edgy, like he was hiding from somethin’. I kept my hand on the silent alarm the whole time. Thought he was gonna pulla gun on me.” The girl squeezed her knuckles one by one, and Sunset winced slightly at each crack. “He didn’t seem to care much where he was headed, just out. Told me to send him to the farthest city he could get to on one bus. Told him Philly’s the farthest you can get on any bus, so he bought it.” According to the girl, that had been only three days ago. Now that he was dead, the where didn’t really matter, but still, two important facts remained. One was that this probably hadn’t exactly been a well-planned operation, considering the almost after-thought nature of Dealt Hand’s escape plan. The other was that the other driver might be heading the same direction. It would not be good if one of her few suspects had already left the city.
“And you’re sure that he was alone? No friends, no extra tickets?”
The girl shook her head, her bubblegum curls bouncing. “Just him.”
“Alright. Thanks for your time.” Sunset had to wonder just how close the two drivers were. Was Dealt Hand planning to take the money and run? Cut the other driver out? Or were they not working together to begin with? Them both disappearing the same day was a pretty big coincidence, but if they were partners, how come only one wound up dead?
Sunset shoved her hands into her pockets, shivering in the sunlight. Gem heists, backroom deals, combat magic. And Eleven. It all painted a disturbing picture that Sunset was sure she hadn’t seen the half of, nor did she want to. She wondered where this was all headed, and why it was always her that got dragged into the muck.
**
When Sunset got home, she was tired, unhappy, and generally not in the mood for visitors. But she had one anyway. A government agent leaning against the shadows of Sunset’s doorway. Sunset was surprised and confused, but mostly, she was smiling.
“Twilight Sparkle.”
Special Agent Twilight Sparkle stood straight, her long black coat in her arms. “Hey Sunset. I figured it was about time I came to see the office.” She looked the same as she had in high school; a pretty, short young girl with square-rimmed glasses and messy pink-streaked hair. But now her coat was black, not white, a shiny badge dangled from her neck, and a gun sat at her hip. Her purple eyes had always been sharp, but now they seemed surgical, digging deep and working towards the surface.
Sunset reached past Twilight to unlock the door, and the two made their way inside. The place was still a mess, papers on every surface except the bulky desk in the center. Sunset had tried to tidy up after Rarity’s visit, but she’d given up pretty quickly. Besides, the odds on Rarity coming back were not good.
Pushing her bitterness aside, Sunset tossed her jacket in the vague direction of the closet, and invited Twilight inside. Twilight looked less than impressed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty trashed. I’m sure you’ve gotten used to the high life over at the agency but, I’m still wading through the dirt here.”
“Eh, no!” Twilight tried to blank her expression, an action made more difficult by her blush. “It’s very, eh, cozy and… hm.” Twilight’s eyebrows lowered as she dropped into deep thought, probably trying to dig the perfect compliment out of her subconscious lexicon.
Sunset just laughed “I was kidding Twi. Make yourself at home.”
Twilight nodded, looking around the small space and taking in everything, from the peeling paint to the empty bottles nestled among the paper mountains. Her eyes lit up, noticing a certificate hanging on the back wall. “Wow. Masters in Criminal Psychology from Harvard. Never took you for the Uni-type.”
Sunset looked up from pouring drinks. “Hm? Oh that. Don’t get too impressed.” She stepped up to Twilight, handing her a half full glass. “It’s fake. Harvard doesn’t even give that degree.”
“Wonderful,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes. She took a sip of the drink and made a choking sound. She pressed a hand to her mouth and, after a brief convulsing struggle, managed to swallow, her eyes watering.
Sunset was staring thoughtfully at the false certification, her own drink held in idle hands. “They say people care about results more than anything else. I can’t tell you how many times this guy has comforted a client about to run.” Sunset cast her eyes sideways. “What’s a little forgery if it helps people, huh?”
“I look forward to seeing how that defense plays out in court.”
Sunset laughed, and they fell silent. Twilight took the time to really get a good look at her friend. She looked much the same as she always had: red-gold hair, “rebel fashionista” style, smirking half-smiles. But she also looked, for lack of a better word, frayed.
Her hair was combed, clean, but overlong and frizzy, untamed strands curling in different directions. Her eyes were lucid but bloodshot, red-ringed, blinking just a beat too much. The hand holding her glass trembled noticeably, and her left was clenched at her side, nails digging in. Her clothes looked slept in, and her smile threatened to fold into a grimace. Twilight was just starting to realize how little she knew about the woman beside her, the woman who had been her friend.
Twilight made her observations and folded herself in thought, losing touch with the world for just a moment. Unfortunately, a moment lost in thought was enough for her to automatically raise the drink to her mouth again, and take another sip. And that brought her shuddering and sputtering back into the world.
Sunset patted her on the back, and quirked her eyebrows, half-concern, half-laughter. Twilight waved her off with a weak smile, coughing and muttering a vague excuse. Sunset turned from her friend, shook her head, and downed her drink in one go. “Alright, to business then.”
Twilight could only gape in amazement. On her way to Sunset’s desk, she buried her own glass in a pile of paperwork with a shove. Then another, just to be sure.
When they both settled into their seats, Twilight took the lead. “Why were you at Dealt Hand’s house?” Twilight sat straight and serious, her hands folded in her lap.
Sunset’s stomach sank a bit, and she ran a hand through her hair. Straight to it. “I was working a case. Am, working a case. Trying to find stolen gems for… my client.” She hesitated a moment between telling Twilight about Rarity, and keeping her promise, but Twilight had already moved on.
“Well, this is a bit bigger than stolen gems. How close did you get to the body?”
“Close enough.” Too close, honestly. Sunset kept herself very still.
“Then I’m going to assume you know he was killed by magic.” Twilight leaned forward. “Dealt Hand is only the most recent in a series of magical killings. I’m on the trail of a serial killer that we’re calling-”
“Number Eleven. Yeah.”
Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “You know about him?”
“Chief Nails filled me in.”
“Is that so?” Twilight frowned. “He was supposed to tell me if he brought anyone new into the investigation.”
“I told him I’d think about it. I’m not formally involved.” Sunset would feel bad if the Chief got in trouble for protecting her.
Twilight tapped a finger to her chin. “I figured you’d jump at this right away. Magic was your interest long before it was mine.”
Sunset’s hand was sweating from the effort of staying at her side. She leaned back, a bit too stiffly. “Yeah, not so much anymore.”
Twilight’s eyes tried to absorb everything about Sunset. “If you’ve been filled in, then you know why this is important.”
What, magic being used to murder people? Nope, no idea why that would be important! “Yeah, I guess I do,” Sunset said, starting to slowly grind her teeth.
Sunset’s discomfort didn’t fly under Twilight’s notice. She wasn’t exactly a “people person,” but she knew her friends. Time apart didn’t wipe that away. Plus the years of formal FBI interrogation and psychological profile training didn’t hurt. She changed course.
“Do you know why we call him Number Eleven?”
“Huh?” Sunset lost her composure for a second. Taut muscles relaxed, and she fell into a half slump, nearly slipping off her chair. She recovered, and found her faux casual stance shifted into a more genuine relaxation. Her left hand unclenched, the biting pressure of her nails a fading memory.
“Number Eleven. It’s an internal name, coined by my division. But I named him that for a reason.”
“Okay.” Sunset had never really wondered, but any distraction was a good distraction. “Why Eleven?”
“Because, by our records, he is the eleventh magic-capable being currently living in our world. The Sirens, our old friends, and the two of us make a nice and even ten. Our new and murderous member makes eleven. Hence, his name.”
That actually made a certain kind of sense, provided that none of the other ten were involved. “Wait. What about Princess Twilight?”
“Ah well. For one thing, she lives in another world. For another, as far as the government is concerned, we are one and the same. Kind of embarrassing to have her actions attributed to me but, there it is. Made me a good second pick.” Twilight met Sunset’s eyes. “They wanted you.”
“Yeah, I remember.” It was hard not to. Five suits in a black car dragging her off the street to meet with some important heads over at the (newly built) local FBI office. They wanted all the info she had, on magic, on ponies, whatever. They weren’t really asking, but she didn’t see much good coming from lying. So she told them. And they offered her a job. “Magical consultant.” But by then, Sunset was fed up. She was still surprised they let her go after she said no. At the time she thought she was too public to get “disappeared” but, they had six others to choose from. Just the fact of Special Agent Twilight sitting across from her showed that they really didn’t need Sunset.
“So. Your division. Like, actually yours? How’d you manage that?”
“Ah, yes. I’m the current Director of the Alternative Energy Research Division, or AERD. To anyone who asks we’re just another sub-branch of the FBI, mainly involved with statistical analysis. But in reality we exist for the sole purpose of the research, understanding, and utilization of magical energies.”
Didn’t sound horribly dangerous at all. “Isn’t it a breach of security to talk to a civilian about it?”
“I guess so. But you aren’t exactly a civilian. Everyone at AERD knows about you to a certain extent.”
Okay, creepy. “How’d you convince them to let you be in charge though? I’d assume they’d want to be directing you.” They certainly had in their offer to Sunset.
“Oh they tried. But I was the only one with knowledge and experience. They kept having to come to me for everything anyway, me taking the lead just kinda made sense. They did give me trouble when I started asking for my own division, along with the resources to run it. The government is amazingly stingy when it comes to that sort of thing. However, when I impressed upon them the importance and danger of this potential new energy source, and the likely panic should certain key facts reach the public, they set it up for me.”
“Wait. Did you blackmail the government? Are you allowed to do that?”
“Blackmailed? No not at all. I just explained it all perfectly logically. Well, not all of it. I only made it an hour into the presentation before they told me I was funded. I tried to tell them it started to get really good at hour four but, they were convinced.” Twilight shrugged.
Sunset hid a smile behind her hand. Torture by presentation. Only Twilight could pull that off without a trace of malice.
“They established AERD and gave me the best tech government funding could buy. So, tech about a decade old and barely functioning. But I’ve made do. Most of the stuff I needed hadn’t been invented yet anyway, had to be built from scratch.”
Sunset sat up, smirking. “Just so that I have this straight. In the course of a few years you went from random high school student, to creator and director of an entirely new branch of the FBI, a branch funded almost entirely against the government’s will?”
Twilight blushed. “When you put it that way, it sounds more impressive than it actually was.”
Sunset spread her hands. “Maybe. Still, good for you. Sounds like you found your place.”
“Another place.” Twilight spun a strand of hair through her fingertips. “I still regret falling out of touch with you and the girls. Government secrecy and all that. And, I admit, I got caught up in the whole thing. Magic is just so alien, exciting. Like finding a math equation no one has ever solved.”
Sunset couldn’t remember E=MC2 murdering anyone. She remained silent, and the conversation trailed off. Sunset wouldn’t have minded if things could just stay this way. Comfortable and quiet.
A loud gurgling. Sunset’s eyes flicked towards Twilight, who was looking studiously anywhere but at her.
“Hungry?”
“I could eat, I suppose.” Twilight still wouldn’t look Sunset’s way.
“It is about that time. Maybe we should call it here?” Sunset needed some time to regroup.
Twilight turned to Sunset, her embarrassment forgotten. “Actually, I was thinking we could eat together. You know, catch up?”
Sunset hesitated. She was sick of this case, of murder, magic, FBI. But honestly, talking with Twilight again felt nice. Like with Rarity but, cleaner. She’d forgotten how much she missed them all. Living with that ache long enough made it feel normal, made it feel like the healing was wrong, not the hurt.
Twilight’s eyes were soft, pleading. “Please Sunset. Just as friends. No FBI, no investigations. Just dinner.”
Sunset scratched her palm, then chuckled. “Alright Twi. Sounds nice.”
Twilight smiled wide, and Sunset grinned in response. They stood up to go, Twilight chatting about her newest research project (the effect of magic on goldfish memory) Sunset fishing her jacket from the floor. Aspects of the project interested Sunset’s technical mind, but she only paid partial attention. Dinner did sound pleasant, but it didn’t stop Twilight from being FBI, and didn’t make Number Eleven go away. She’d have to convince Twilight to let her off the case. Somehow.
“So, have a place in mind?”
Twilight nodded, and stepped into the hall. “Yeah, I think you’ll really like it.”
Sunset squared her shoulders, and followed her friend into the night.
**
Fashion Forward thought he was ready for anything. That was before watching the cops, the FBI, and a corpse dragged out of that damn house. Thankfully he’d parked far away enough to avoid suspicious eyes, planning to scope the place out for a bit. It was plenty scoped out now.
Fashion checked his notebook for the fifth time, making sure he was at the right address. Unless Dessi had pointed him wrong, he was definitely in the right place. It seemed he wasn’t getting his interview with the driver. And the van wasn’t even here. Fashion scratched his head beneath his hat, and grunted with confused frustration.
This was supposed to be easy. He chased down the driver, shook the bribe money out of his pockets, tracked down whatever black market he sold for, and made the front page. Then came the paycheck and more importantly, the fame. It was his thing. Corruption, greed, the rich getting too big for their britches. Instead, he found a dead body. Dead bodies were nothing but bad news. Murder sold papers, but it didn’t make you famous.
“Shit.” Lighting his third cigarette, he rolled the window down a quarter and put on his thinking face. Where to go from here? Dessi was on high alert, wouldn’t be worth calling him for a few weeks yet. Not empty-handed. But, he couldn’t very well go patrolling town, looking for more suspicious vans. All vans were suspicious. He’d gotten lucky the first time; he could spend a year hunting the city and find nothing.
Plus there was Sunset Shimmer. He’d nearly choked to death on his smoke when she walked out of that house, talking to the police chief like he was an old friend, leaving without even a cursory hold for questioning. Who the hell was she? A third option, he supposed. But she didn’t really seem like someone he wanted to get involved with. That redhead was trouble, clearly wrapped up in the killing somehow. Fashion prided himself on staying away from trouble.
Well, that cinched it. He stepped out of his car, and tossed the cigarette away. Nothing to do but investigate the house himself. Sure, it was technically trespassing, but Fashion liked to see himself as journalist first, fashionista second, law abiding citizen last. Still, no need to be crazy. He stepped over the yellow tape as gingerly as possible, and kept his hands in his pockets.
Through the screen door was a mess. Even without a body, the fight, the death, it was obvious. The stench of the place was nearly unbearable. Fashion crinkled his nose, paced rapidly through the narrow spaces. Through the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room-kitchen. Nothing to see. The police had already dragged away everything important. Without a body, evidence, Fashion was wasting his time. Questions were starting to pile up. Who is delivering the packages? Who is buying them? Who is stealing them? And why? Always why.
It was tickling the back of his skull, his sense that something important was going on. But the rest of him couldn’t keep up. None of the evidence lined up, none of his leads took him anywhere. Just dead ends and back page columns.
Fashion returned to the kitchen, staring at the wet spot that had been Dealt Hand’s corpse. Here was a man who knew he was playing with fire. Black market deals like this had a habit of going wrong. Fashion traced the burn marks along the walls. The deal went bad, as they do. But if Dealt Hand wasn’t an idiot, he had to have had a workaround, a backup, an escape route. Why had he died here, in the kitchen? Not reaching towards the door, the exit. He had come here, died here, for a reason.
Fashion scanned the room, staring into its heart, looking for what was out of place. A panel, at the base of the sink. Brand-new. The only spot of color in the whole place. Fashion stretched out his hand, pressed his fingers to the wood. There was a creaking, a groaning, the buildup of pressure, until it snapped inward. In the space behind it…
Two bottles of unopened wine. A nine millimeter semi-automatic pistol, loaded but unused. A business card, the front of it a laughing, burning skull on two playing cards. On the back a name, and an address. The Ace of Skulls.
“Gotcha,” Fashion whispered, and swept everything into his jacket. It was back on.
**
The cafe was the same as it had been in high school, as far as Sunset remembered. Of course Twilight would choose this place in particular. Twilight liked to pretend she was just going with the flow, but Sunset didn’t think she made a single uncalculated move. She watched as Twilight took their smoothies from the front counter, then tried to juggle both while putting away her wallet, spilling smoothie in fat drops across the floor. Maybe not every move.
Twilight sat across from Sunset, placing a smoothie in front of each of them, blueberry for her, strawberry banana for Sunset. Their plates of food were already steaming, ready to eat. Twilight’s was anyway, her hamburger piled high with every topping imaginable, looking big enough to feed the whole city. Sunset’s own salad felt wildly underwhelming in comparison.
Twilight stared down her burger with a hunger that was frankly a bit scary to see. Before she dove in, however, she tossed a hardball. “So, how’s Rarity?”
Sunset sputtered, almost inhaling an entire spinach leaf. With the help of her smoothie, she was able to splash it down the right tube at the last second. “Rarity?”
Twilight’s face was almost entirely buried behind her meal, and she hadn’t noticed Sunset’s mishap. “Yeah, Rarity. Pretty, about yea high, fashionista, girlfriend? Ring a bell?”
Sunset took some calming breaths. “Mm, I vaguely remember someone like that. Ex girlfriend, by the way.”
Twilight’s head popped to the side of the burger, and she frowned at Sunset. “Really?” She had a bit, well, a lot, of mustard on one cheek, but Sunset didn’t bother to point it out. “I have been out of touch. I’m sorry to hear that.”
Sunset shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” Twilight tilted her head thoughtfully, then ducked behind her burger once more. “I assumed you’d already know. Wouldn’t that be in my file or something?”
Twilight waved her hand vaguely, and spoke through a clearly full mouth. “When you had a file, sure. Surveillance was a high priority in the first few years, but as time went on I just kept shifting resources to research and development until the spying side of things was entirely shuttered. There are quite a few agents convinced that you died a while ago.”
Sunset shifted in her seat. On the one hand, she was glad that her efforts to hide had been successful. Escaping the government was not exactly her top motivation, but if you wanted to go unnoticed, that was a big start. She felt pretty good about herself for that.
“It wasn’t all that hard to track you down once I put the effort in though. We just kind of have better things to do.” Sunset’s pride deflated immediately. She’d been hiding from someone who wasn’t even looking. Not really impressive.
“So you haven’t kept track of anyone on your list?”
“Not really. Like I said, after a while it just didn’t seem to matter. They were a bunch of high school girls. There were only so many places for them to hide. Eventually everyone drifted apart, but by then we didn’t have a reason to look. Until now.”
“So, how are the rest of the girls?”
Twilight sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to any of them in years. Beside you.”
Sunset was surprised. “I guess I’m not the only one who fell out of touch. After Rarity, I kinda fell apart.” She’d felt lost. Not unable to live life without Rarity but, temporarily unable to imagine the future she wanted. Fluttershy and Pinkie had tried to help, at first. “I wasn’t really in a place to keep up friendships, no matter how important. So I pushed everyone away, and kept pushing until there was no one left.”
Twilight gently moved her plate to the side. Her eyes were focused on her hands, fiddling her fingers together. “I had my work, and it was important work. It was okay that I didn’t have as much time for friends. Or any at all.”
“Because they’d always be there when you turned back.”
“Then three years passed. And I realized that I could never go back. Friendships don’t pause and start when it’s convenient for you.” Twilight sighed, and put a hand over her eyes. “What great Elements we turned out to be.”
Sunset leaned back, and watched the ceiling fans spin. Friendship had come easily once. Always together, solving problems, making memories, fighting bad guys. Then life moved on, and kept moving. All the little twists and turns that pull people apart. And staying together started to feel like fighting upriver. It was easier to just drift, and watch as the miles built up between you.
“Do you remember the night we used the Elements against you? The first time you used magic?”
Twilight looked up, startled from her own thoughts. “That’s not something you really forget.”
“How did that make you feel?”
Twilight swallowed. “Like I could take over the world. Like I could do anything. Like I was trapped behind my own eyes.”
“Before I got here, I saw magic as a tool. Whether you used it to fight, to wash your dishes, to pick up heavy objects, it was all goal driven. I wanted something, I cast a spell, I got it. That’s how your agency is looking at it right? A new energy source? A new tool?”
Twilight nodded. “To simplify it greatly, yes.”
Sunset shook her head. “In this world, magic isn’t controllable. It’s wild, and has a mind of its own. When I tried to use Princess Twilight’s Element, it ended up using me. Like someone else was reaching through my hands, playing my body like a puppet, using me to commit atrocities. If the girls hadn’t stopped me-” Sunset cut herself off. That was one of her nightmares. What would have happened if she wasn’t saved by the Elements? Would she still be trapped inside that thing, forced to watch the world from inside a glass box forever? Her heart was racing, and her hands were clenched. She took a deep breath.
“After that experience, I learned that magic is different here. It’s dangerous, infectious, chaotic. It’s more like a disease than a tool. When you use it, you can do anything. Anything except stop using it.”
Twilight hugged her shoulders. “I know exactly what you mean. Using magic it was… exhilarating. But there was no doubt who was in control. And it wasn’t me.” Twilight shuddered once more, then shook her head. “But that’s exactly why AERD is so important. The more we learn about magic, the more we capture and study, the safer it becomes to handle. Everything has rules, limitations. If we can figure out the structure of magic, then we can stop it.”
“Figure out? There’s nothing to figure out, Twilight. Magic is dangerous, too dangerous to be messing with. Your project is going to kill you, and for what? Curiosity?” Sunset was on her feet, and while she kept her voice low, she couldn’t help the spear point her words had become. Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise, then hardened with anger.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about saving lives. Or have you already forgotten Number Eleven? Every second we spend doing nothing is more time for Eleven to learn how to control magic. How to kill faster, more easily, with less effort. Can we really afford to step away from that, just because we might get hurt? Are our lives worth more than his next victims’?”
Sunset slammed her fist onto their table, sending pain bursting up her forearm. “Yes! Don’t you see how crazy it is to throw ourselves at danger every time it pops up? We aren’t special, we aren’t unique, we aren’t heroes. We’re just suicidal, and frankly, I’m tired of being the one who puts up my life for every bad guy auction. The world can do without us.” Sunset sat back down. “We aren’t heroes, Twilight. We should stop acting like we are.”
“Jesus.” Twilight shook her head. “Looking out for people, helping people, isn’t being a hero. It’s being a decent human. This isn’t your life for someone else’s. This is stopping a weapon, something that can kill on a scale we can’t even begin to calculate. Eleven is just one man, and he’s carved a trail of destruction this city has never seen before, one that’s only growing larger. Imagine this in the hands of governments, armies, criminals. Imagine the world tearing itself apart with a weapon cheaper, simpler, and deadlier than the atom bomb.”
Sunset didn’t have to imagine. She just had to remember History 101. In Equestria, the Great War was a time of death unmatched by any before or since. Entire cities, entire civilizations, burned away with barely any effort. It was the remnants of remnants of ponies who dragged themselves out of the rubble, the three clans bonding over a shared disgust of killing in all its forms. They banned combat magic, implements of war. Peace became law. The society Sunset knew was forged in that moment, friendship and harmony above all else. Humanity had yet to learn that lesson.
Sunset’s hand spasmed, and she unclenched her fist quickly. A trickle of blood ran down her palm. “I understand the scale. That’s exactly why I can’t get involved in all this. We can’t carry the weight of this on our shoulders. We’ll be crushed.” Sunset stared at the red in her hands.
A look almost like pity flashed briefly over Twilight’s face. “You’re not the woman I thought you were.”
Sunset had nothing to say to that, wiping her hand with a napkin.
Twilight stood. “Someone’s going to die soon.” Sunset’s looked at Twilight, and found a mask of stone glaring back. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “Eleven’s going to kill them. They don’t have a choice. They won’t get to choose if they live or if they die. Neither should you.”
Sunset felt a stab of regret, but ignored it. “I’m not responsible for every murderer in Canterlot.”
“But you are responsible for this one. If you stand back and do nothing, when you have the chance to stop him, that’s no different from killing them yourself.”
Sunset opened her mouth to say, something, defend herself, but no words came. And Twilight was gone. A stream of emotions went with her, and Sunset slumped, feeling empty. The guilt would come, as it always did, but for now, it was just the cold, and the dark.
There was a part of her that still wanted to be the hero, that still pushed her towards that blue case file. But there was a part of her too, that remembered magic as easy as breathing, as familiar as her own heartbeat. And she remembered how that kind of power warps you, how one day you find yourself at the end of a road you can’t name, and how the person you see in the mirror doesn’t even share your shadow. She’d seen herself a villain too many times to trust herself now.
A sudden sharp cold pricked her nose, and Sunset startled. She found herself standing beside her car, staring at herself in the driver’s side window. She felt the cold touch again, on her cheek, and swiped it away. She looked to the sky, and watched as the first slow snowflakes of winter slipped out of the clouds.