//------------------------------//
// Line of Ire (4) 
// Story: Super Pony Roomies 
// by TheManehattanite 
//------------------------------//


15


“The Destroyer,” Detective Gem Stone said, staring at the curled ball Blackie Deco had become. 

“I mean, wouldn’t that be a Destroyer?” Soarin’ flinched as Stone and Spitfire rounded on him. “Y’know, ’cause now there’s…two of ‘em.” 

“Thanks,” Spitfire said dryly before turning her scowl on the morning edition of The Derby Bugle, with a blurred photo of both Wonderbolts diving for the tumbling super ponies. “We’re lucky whoever snapped this didn’t catch the knock-off, or the city would be in even more of a panic than that time Discord crashed the Today Show.”

“Sure we don’t wanna try for an evacuation though?” Soarin’ asked. “It’s the Destroyer, Spits. Even Princess Celestia couldn’t take that thing without help!” 

Spitfire kneaded the space between her eyes, grateful that the mask wasn’t in the way. “And she would be busy.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Gem snapped, eyes going wide. 

“She had one of her visions,” Spitfire sighed. “Official word is she’s ‘somewhere else’, waiting for something. For all we know she may not even be on this planet right now.”

“Princess Luna’s on stand-by!” Soarin’ assured. 

“And was probably the help her sister had last time, if that legend’s even true.” Gem frowned at the documents spread over the table. “Even if the Befrienders weren’t helping out with that flood in Gemina and could back her up, none of them could do anything without serious damage to the city.” 

“That’s why we have to find the Basilisk.” Spitfire had been up all night running down as many dead ends as any of her colleagues and still sounded determined. “Nopony ever beat the Destroyer by fighting it. If we can find his body, we can stop him projecting his mind into it! Then it’ll be just so much scrap metal!” 

“I know!” Gem snapped again “You think we haven’t been trying? He’s been alive almost as long as the city itself. He could have millions of hiding places we don’t even know exist. Hay, if the magic works the way the legends say it does, he wouldn’t even have to be in the city!”

She shot a furious look to the cell across from them. “And even if our only witness knew anything, he’s practically catatonic.” 

“Well wouldn’t you be?” Soarin’ asked as his office chair completed its latest rotation. “They have a serious grudge, right? Tombs probably doesn’t even care about the loose end. Just wants to crush something ‘cause he can.”

There was a whimper from the cell as Deco’s shoulders convulsed. 

“Uh…sorry!” Soarin’ called sheepishly. 

“You might have more than that to apologise for.” Spitfire was smiling in a way that made the hairs on the back of Gem Stone’s neck stand up. “You just gave me an idea.”

“Oh man,” Soarin’ sighed. “Am I gonna have to go on the stand again?”

“Maybe. It can wait until you find your old roommate.” 

“Johnnycake?!” Soarin’ sat up quickly. “Look, if this is about eating everypony’s shamrock sandwiches, the fridge lighting was super bad and those labels are tiny--”

“What are you thinking?” Gem cut in. “Something with Deco? This isn’t the Bone Dry Desert, Spitfire. Prisoners have rights.”

“Yeah,” Spitfire smiled, “like the right to protective custody. Got a free semaphore rig? There’s some notes I wanna send while Soarin’s out.” 

“Mind telling me what they are?” Gem trotted out after her as she headed for the stairs to the communications wing. “It sounds like you want to bring super ponies in on this.”

“No,” the Wonderbolt said flatly. “But I’ve had my big idea. I’m hoping they can come up with a better one.” 


16


Johnny blinked. “She said what?” 

“Not in so many words.” Soarin’ shrugged “You gonna eat that?” 

They were sitting in one of the cafés outside the Baxter Building, an out of the way one where a Wonderbolt and member of the Fantastic Family could talk without drawing attention, or give you the impression giant metal hooves would soon be stomping their way up 4th Avenue. Again. 

“Watching my weight anyway.” Johnny nosed the croissant plate across to his old friend. “She’s seriously going to use Blackie as bait?” 

“Sounds like the lovable Spitfire I know.” 

Soarin’ almost jumped out of his seat, craning back to see Spider-Pony perched on one of the columns of the café’s façade, sipping a cup of coffee and hidden from view by the shadows of the column and their table umbrella. From this angle he couldn’t even make out what colour Spidey’s exposed muzzle was. 

“Fake out, right?” 

“…right.” Soarin’ glanced at Johnny. He’d had his own minor encounters with the vigilante, but. 

The Torch rolled his eyes. “He’d just swing into the middle of whatever we did anyway. Don’t give him anything to eat, he’ll think we’re keeping him.” 

“We could use all the help we can get,” Soarin’ sighed. “Spitfire’s announcing Deco’s transfer through a warehouse district to try and minimise any damage, but even with Princess Luna and the rest of the squad inbound we’re gonna be hard pressed to contain it.” 

“Hey, what’re we, tourists?” Johnny smirked.   

“Well you haven’t had any more luck finding him than we have!” Soarin’ shot back. “Don’t get me wrong man, I’d be thrilled to take the old buzzard out early! As is, baiting him out into the open this afternoon is the best we can do.” 

“What happens to Blackie?” Spidey asked suddenly, as if emerging from thought. 

“Huh? Uh, the transfer in the papers is a decoy. He’ll be shipped out to Raider’s Island after the fake convoy takes off. Why?” 

“Because that’s probably where Tombs is gonna actually hit,” Spider-Pony said, sounding a little too casual as he pulled down the mask. “Think about it: guy had the idea to build his own Asgardian death mech using a bunch of rocks and rubber suits. You really think he’d go to lengths this ridiculous, bring Blackie in at all, if he didn’t have a way to track him down?” 

“We locked the rune stone Deco had on him in a Canterlot grade vault,” Soarin’ pointed out. 

“He was wearing it in his hair for Great Pony knows how long!” Spidey snapped. “He’s probably sweating a magic trail!” 

Johnny coughed loudly as the other diners’ heads turned towards the column, then lowered his voice. “What my not-so-learned colleague is trying to say is super villains are a bitter and ostentatious lot. The Basilisk only exists because he never got the attention he always wanted. What better way to prove he’s the star than take out the understudy?” 

“I hate these guys.” Soarin’ shook his head. “Man, a storm? Counter with enough centrifugal force! Monster attack? Herd it back where it came from! How do you keep up with the kinda guy whose solution to a tracking anklet is…mythology?!” 

“Preach,” Johnny and Spidey said in sullen unison. 

“Look guys, Spitfire’s got her issues with your…business. But she wouldn’t be turning this over to you if she didn’t know you could follow through.” 

“We will,” Johnny promised grimly. 

“Follow through…” Spidey mused. He leaned out into the light a little to address Soarin’ better. “Did Detective Stone manage to find out what he wanted the airship re-aligners for?” 

“Because it’s gonna be big and he doesn’t want the lines to mess with the spell, probably.” The Wonderbolt swallowed his fortifying mouthful of croissant. “Y’know, hit the Diamond District then cross into Tortoise Bay and suddenly find out he’s an action figure, that kinda thing. Plus, moving something that big’s gonna take a boatload of magic! We saw it almost blotting out the moon when we caught you guys, and it didn’t even have hind legs yet!” 

“Why would it?” Spider-Pony mused to himself. He finished his coffee and attempted to Bankshot the cup into a nearby trashcan, forced to catch it with his webs when it almost tipped over. “Um. I will. Be in touch!”

Johnny shook his head as Soarin’ tried to follow the web-slinger’s hasty scrabble out of sight. 

“You work with some weird ponies, man.”   

“Didn’t complain when you were tagging along for explorative research bits to pay for flight school,” Johnny smirked. 

“Yeah I did, you just didn’t listen,” Soarin’ smiled back. 

“Couldn’t hear you over all the adventure,” Johnny chuckled. They chinked styrofoam cups. “So how’s it been going, mister bigshot Wonderbolt?” 

“Eh, the odd storm here, the occasional monster there. Mostly we’ve been clearing King Sombra’s old stuff out of the Crystal Empire. Guy had a lot of caves. Anyway, we want the whole region to be safe as possible for when we get into the Games. What about you?”

“I beat a dragon from outer space and now I’m looking for an apartment.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”  


17


Princess Luna glared over her billowing mane at H.E.R.B.I.E. The automaton immediately tried to hide the brushes he’d been carrying. “So this is your plan, Dr. Rivers?”

“Best I could do, yes,” Reed said, gathering up the parchments and tomes strew across his work table. “I’m sorry it’s not more proactive, but--"

“Nonsense,” Luna assured. “Banishing this false Destroyer to another dimension is very likely the only way we can assure this city will be left standing. We were forced to use similar methods against the genuine article centuries ago, even with the mighty Sleipnir’s help. You should be proud in coming up with a solution this quickly!” 

“That’s my boy,” Sue smiled as River Reeds coloured. “Tea or coffee, your highness?”

“Tea, please Ms. Storm. No milk. Thank you.” Luna accepted the cup, gazing out at the skyscrapers through the lab window. “In what my sister insists I should stop thinking of as ‘my time’, this island was a small collection of colonies forging bonds through favours. I refuse to let an upstart astral projector like this ‘Basilisk’ ruin what it has become! Two sugars, please.” 

“What I think River means is we should consider a contingency plan,” Sue pointed out, trying not to look like she was trying to impress the Princess of the Moon by using her own brand of telekinesis to float her condiments over. 

“We got one,” the Thing rumbled, holding out his extra sized cup. “If he doesn’t leave, we clobber him, right Princess?”

“Indeed!” He blinked as Luna chinked her tea cup against his so hard his stony foreleg shook a little. “But we have an opportunity to plan ahead here, Mr. Grim. I understand you are allies with the Panther Prince and the Sub Mariner? Their own kingdoms’ magic may--”

“I was thinking of something a little closer to home.” They all looked up as Spider-Pony finished crawling across the library ceiling, dropping to perch on the Thing’s shoulders. 

“I look like a throw rug to you, shrimp?” 

“You really want an answer to that?” Spidey leaned over to wink upside down at the Thing before hopping off and trotting up to Luna. “Your, uh, highness. Sorry to butt in, but--”

“We know of you.” Luna’s face was impassive as her eyes seemed to look straight through his mask, then began following the web pattern of his costume. “You are one of those who goes into the dark places and makes the night safe for others. And yet for as much of it is in you, you laugh. This is admirable.” 

“…thank…you?” What was it with him and princesses lately? 

“Whatever happens from hereon in, know that we expect great things. From both of you.” 

Peter blinked under the mask, suddenly feeling like he was on a very small island in the middle of the ocean. He had no idea who else she could be talking about. 

“Yeah, see, this is why our friendship is founded on lovable sniping.” Heat on his back as the Torch drifted in behind him, lowering his hooves temperature to give him a noogie. “Too scrappy to take a compliment, this one! It’s sad.” 

He shoved past Spidey, still burning but at his lowest temperature to avoid ruining the floor, and trailed streamers of flame behind him as he executed a ballerina worthy bow. Sue didn’t roll her eyes because he knew that was what he wanted.

“Your majesty! Tropical Johnnycake Storm, high-flying Horseshoe Torch.” He straightened up, holding out a glowing hoof. “It is an honour.”

“We are sure,” Luna smiled ruefully, handing him her cup. Johnny blinked, then grinned as he turned to Reed. He liked her! 

“Before we all shoot down Paste Pot Pete’s homelier cousin’s idea,” he told his three teammates, “Soarin’ wants you to know Spitfire’s deigned to work with us. She’s gonna leak the timetable for the accomplice’s transfer, send the Destroyer on a wild goose chase. The fake convoy heads off at 2:30 through the old industrial district of Hobbs Garden. Ten minutes later they’ll cart the real one off to Raiders through the Upper East Side in an unmarked wagon.” 

“Risky, but not bad,” Mr. Fantastic said, securing his saddlebag. “I suggest we split up. Three of us tail the fake, three of us stay with the real deal. Unfortunately, for our banishing spell to work the princess and I will need to be in the same location.” 

“The Destroyer, no matter the mind that wields it, is not a subtle instrument,” Luna said grimly. “Even if we chose the wrong one, doctor, I’m sure we’ll know when he strikes. A simple teleport should suffice.” 

“He’ll go after the fake!” Spidey insisted. He tried not to flinch as those cyan eyes flashed to him. “I’ve been fighting this guy practically all my life. No way he wouldn’t make sure he could find Blackie, stones or not. He’ll wait until we think we’ve pulled it off and then he’ll show up in his fancy new suit to rub it in.”

“And you had a plan for this?” she asked. Peter swallowed. 

“Yeah. See, anypony can pilot the Destroyer but Tombs will need the city, the world, to know it’s him! He mentioned finishing touches back at the plant. I think I know what they’ll be, and--”

“Then you’ll have to hurry.” Mr. Fantastic’s horn glowed, a bookcase opening onto one of the entrances to his lab. “I take it you’ll want to make use of the facilities here.” 

“Just like that?” Spidey blinked. “I didn’t even say what--” 

“You don’t need to, son. Not after this long.” 

Luna scanned the Four’s faces. The Torch winked at her. “You are clearly trusted. Please hurry. It is almost noon.” 


18


The Golden Oaks Library was quiet. Until the floor glowed purple and a superhero jumped out of the living room floor. 

“Twilight?” Spider-Pony called. He trotted around in a circle, mindful of the lengths of metal cord wrapped over his shoulders. He wondered if he should call out again but there was something in the air. Something he felt like he shouldn’t disturb. 

He nudged open the main library door. No sign of anything…except that blasted owl in the corner. 

“Hoo.”

“Not in the mood,” Peter muttered. “Have you seen her? I need…” 

He’d come over to run the plan by her and get a magical boost, but not really. 

He’d had paradise with her yesterday and now he was about to swing off with a hastily assembled doodad (though it wasn’t bad for a rush job if he said so himself!) to face an unrelenting sociopath armed with a homebrew Asgardian weapon of mass destruction. 

And something else. Something Luna had said. Something in the air. 

“Hoo.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Spidey’s ears perked up. He twitched one of the foyer curtains open. Looked like half of Ponyville out there! 

“♪A True, True Friend—♪”

“Aww, she’s busy,” he smiled. 

“Hoo.”

“Somepony worth more than both of us, pal.” 

He didn’t even flinch as Owloysius swivelled to follow him with those unreadable eyes. Something in her voice, Harmony maybe, comforted him. Made him feel all Bring It On, Universe. 

The light of Twilight’s living room ley line flashed off the Elements of Harmony display case, which he’d completely failed to register was empty. 


***

“That was fast,” Johnny observed from the couch as he materialised back in his apartment. 

“She was busy,” Spidey shrugged. 

“You sound way too happy about it,” Johnny teased. “C’mon, let’s go make an old pony cry!” 

“Race ya!” 

They both leapt for the living room window at the same time, slap fighting over it until they tumbled out and began swinging and blazing for the Hobbs Garden precinct. 

The Torch raised an eyebrow as the device his partner was carrying flashed slightly every time they crossed districts. “Sure that thing’ll work without your girl’s special touch?” 

“Hey, there’s Mr. Fantastic and princess magic in here!” Spidey shrugged in between firing web-lines. “If that’s not a guarantee then what is?”

“Counterpoint: you built it.” 

“You never said word one about the Spider-Mobile.” 

“Y’know one of these days I should fish that thing out of the river and rebuild it out of spite.” 

“Please, Twilight would love it.” 

“Are you sure she isn’t a Skrull?” 

“Get out of my head, Storm.” 


19


“So many bakeries...” Soarin’ sighed as the streets swept by beneath them. 

“We’ll load up before we go home,” Spitfire assured. “This is Manehattan. He can’t blow up all the bakeries.” 

Luna coughed loudly, making Mr. Fantastic and the Thing swap knowing looks as they hovered beside her in a Fantasti-Chariot. The Wonderbolts straightened up, though you could feel Spitfire’s eyeroll through her goggles. 

“Halfway there,” Reed noted as the wagon below them turned a corner. The blue-grey paint job helped it to stand out from the riot of taxis, delivery carts, moving food stalls and some of those fancy new automobiles down below. The decoy would be the standard M.E.U.P. black and gold, perfectly visible from the air even if it didn’t have the rest of the Wonderbolts and half the Manehattan press trailing behind it. 

“You’re sure he’s going to hit?” Spitfire scanned the rooftops. “Maybe we should’ve used the stone as bait instead. Threatened to take his control away somehow.” 

“Do not second guess yourself, captain. The day’s still young,” Luna assured “And besides, one stone against the number needed to enchant and control even a facsimile Destroyer would be no threat. This pony may dress funny, but he knows what he’s doing.” 

“Maybe I’d feel better if our tip-off didn’t come from a vigilante,” Spitfire huffed. “Surprised you brought him in on this, Princess. As is, I’m just grateful we have a pro like Grim Skies along!” 

“For real!” Soarin’ used a roll to flash the Thing two wingtips up. 

“Ah, you’ll make me blush, cap.”

“Champions, as you should know captain, come in all shapes and sizes,” Luna smiled. 

“Speakin’ of size,” the Thing growled, pointing, “Radar’s pickin’ up somethin’ bigger than the chip on Namor’s shoulder comin’ up through the water! There!” 

The wagon was on a riverside road now, a frothing mound in the water sending small waves splashing into the lanes. The two out of uniform guards at the reins struggled for control but were swept halfway to the curb, the wagon almost tipping over as its front half was demolished. 

The escort began to dive towards the 10-foot-tall shadow hauling itself onto solid ground, the shrieks of panicked civilians almost drowning out the sound of its hooves crashing into the concrete. The Destroyer! Kind of. 

The torso was a decent enough approximation of the bull like original, but large metal bat wings lanced out of the shoulders. The masterpiece was easily the almost mile long metal snake tail, lashing with unsettlingly organic movements. The metal was darker, cruder, but just as solid looking as the original. 

“Behold!” an amplified voice boomed from the shadows of the grate-like helmet. “The Basilisk Maximus!!!” 

“Behold this!” 

“Eh?” The Destroyer titled its head back as the ever lovin’ blue eyed Thing crashed down onto it from thirty feet up. The impact cracked storefronts and shattered street lamp bulbs along the block, everything but the Basilisk tail vanishing in dust from the resultant crater.

As the others tried to touch down the tail coiled suddenly, whipping into the dust cloud. Fleeing pedestrians fled even harder as a cursing Thing was sent rolling down the street, demolishing a park and the lobby of an office building before he stopped. 

The Destroyer launched itself after him, managing to soar almost an entire block before sapphire magic wrapped around its tail. A fire hydrant ruptured as its torso crashed into the road with a startled yelp. 

“You have one chance to surrender!” Princess Luna snapped, eyes narrowed from strain and concentration, her horn almost invisible from its own glow as she tried to telekinetically reel the behemoth towards her. 

“I’d think someone of your age would know better than to face the Destroyer, Princess!” 

“The only thing this monstrosity has in common with the Destroyer is they’re both the toys of sad old men!” 

“Ah, but it’s close enough for the stones!” The Destroyer reared up, slamming its hooves together. Glass shattered and concrete fractured from the shockwave, bowling the princess and the charging Wonderbolts over. 

Satisfied the Destroyer stomped and slithered its way towards the overturned wagon, ignoring the krackling magic bolts Mr. Fantastic fired at it. “Please Dr. Rivers! These parlour tricks are beneath you!” 

“You want to see a trick?” the genius smirked as the metal shadow fell over him “Very well! I shall make your target…disappear!” 

And he did, taking himself along with it. 

“What?!” The Basilisk Maximus froze, startled. “How… The Phantasmal Pony, of course! Very clever, Rivers! You’re even broadcasting magical waves to mask the tracking spell Deco picked up from the rune stones!” 

The tail raised to begin striking random buildings in a bid to draw the heroes out of hiding, but the first blow never landed. Instead, in a sapphire flash the Destroyer found its own momentum turned against it as it re-materialised in mid-air, sending itself spinning into an evacuated construction site.

As it scrabbled to regain its footing a levitated crane hook spiked into the joints between its tail, pinning it. 

“We are not done,” three Princess Lunas snarled from their perches in the girders in front of it. 

The Destroyer strained to use its tail, succeeding only in pulling the crane down on top of itself. With a snarl it settled for driving a hoof into the nearest Luna. She smirked at it as it drew back, totally unscathed despite the buckled girders behind her. The staggering Destroyer found itself surrounded by blurs of navy blue, a small army of Lunas swirling around it like bats. The occasional magic bolt flashed off its hide.

“Illusions!” Tombs’ voice spat as his creation thrashed at the fluttering shapes. “Is this really the best you have?!” 

The helm, crudely hammered to resemble an amalgamation of the Destroyer’s head and the Basilisk’s cowl, lowered contemplatively. “No, perhaps not. You’re stalling for something else!” 

It lunged out of the swarm, the crane cable finally snapping as it crashed into daylight and onto the street. “And with a simple adjustment of the runes so I can perceive different kinds of magical energy…yes!” 

Through the haze over his mind’s eye, Arcadian Tombs’ consciousness could now perceive energy wavelengths. The world was a pulsing violet glow, shapes becoming abstract. And there: the glowing bodies of Mr. Fantastic and the Phantasmal Pony, shielding the cowering Blackie Deco, throbbing in blue as they used their powers from a nearby alleyway! 

Whirling the Basilisk finally saw the real Luna, perched on a gargoyle and the magic around her horn dancing in rhythm with River’s. Looking down, he could now see the circle of energy gradually forming around him. “A portal?! I think not! This city is mine now!” 

The tail whipped up, slamming down in front of the Fantastic Family’s power couple. It probably wouldn’t have squashed them even if it had made contact, but it didn’t need to. The impact rattled both ponies, Sue and Deco flickering back into existence and the aura around Reed’s horn evaporating. 

“Reed!” Sue cried as a wing sliced into him. Reed’s face contorted as his body strained to absorb the blow. The wing swept him into the wall, crashing him through it. She furiously wrapped a force field around it, hurling it into the air and pitching the startled Destroyer over and onto its back.

She let out a relieved gasp to see Reed curled in the wreckage of an office like an abandoned hose, but his body pulling itself back into shape. If he could instinctively take control like that then he was alive. But clearly unconscious. The Destroyer had managed to take their plan off the table. 

“I’m gettin’—!” Blackie began, turning to bolt. 

“No,” Princess Luna said, landing in front of him and slapping a specific spot on his neck with a wing. Deco’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed with a dreamy smile. “Is your, uh, partner…?”

“He’s fine,” Sue breathed as they began slowly trotting towards the rolling Destroyer. “But he’s out of the game for now.” 

“Nothing’s ever simple,” Luna muttered. “Force field battering ram, d’you think?” 

“Ready when you are.” 

As the Destroyer finally righted itself a shimmering mass crashed into it so hard one side of its helm almost caved in. It just made it look annoyed. The next two assaults sent it skidding backwards down the wrecked street. It met the third attempt with its hooves and wings, its tail throwing out sparks and a horrendous screeching as it resisted. 

With a violent shove it punched through the translucent barrier. Sue cried out from the mental feedback, collapsing into Luna’s grasp. Luna’s expression shifted instantly from concern to fury, glaring up at the advancing Destroyer with her eyes and horn glowing. 

“I would have settled for simply robbing this city blind and retiring to an island somewhere,” Tombs voice rumbled out of the helm. “But crushing a princess? That needs a much grander follow through…” 

It raised a hoof. 

“Now there’s the fickle old bird I know and revile!” 

The Destroyer whirled to find Spider-Pony balanced on its tail, snapping a metallic brace shut around the appendage. 

“Did you just…try to clamp me?” 

“Looks like it! Did it work?”

“NO!” The Destroyer lashed its tail, sending the pest sky high.

“Pity.” Spidey shrugged as he began to descend, then cupped his hooves to his muzzle. “’EY TAX-AY!” 

He fired a web-line, the Horseshoe Torch snagging it and whipping them around the Destroyer’s head. 

“C’mon Cade-i-kins, who d’ya really wanna make an impression on? Me, or some patsy who couldn’t find his Asgard with a map?” 

“Don’t mind us!” the Torch called, racing towards Midtown. “We’ll just be sightseeing while you make up your mind!” 

Luna watched nonplussed as the Destroyer howled with fury, launching itself after them.


***

“Okay, we need to cross as many ley lines as possible,” Spidey called, looking over his shoulder thirty tons of thrashing metal behind them, “so as many neighbourhoods as you can!” 

“All part of the service,” the Torch called back, blazing down a side street. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’re you doing?” 

“I’m heading for Antlersona! It’s closest!” 

“Then what’re we doing on 101st?” 

“Going to Antlersona.” 

“On what planet do you get to Antlersona via 101st?” 

“The one where Gracie Mansion doesn’t get demolished?”

“That’s on 88th!” 

“Right, which is why I take the turning on 93rd. Wide berth!” 

“That’s way too close to Museum Mile! Twilight loves it!” 

“So,” The Torch looked over his shoulder, raising his hooves like scales, “seat of government, your boring date night. Real neat to know where your priorities lie, Pete!” 

“Oh, like you ever went to a museum without your teachers strapping you and the other back row kids to gurneys.” 

“I’m an explorer, I hunt down ghosts and cultists through museums more than you poke your mole!” 

“Yeah? Ever look up this thing called a compass? Because we’re on Park Avenue now, genius!” 

“You were just whining about Museum Mile.” 

“You just missed our turning!” 

“Our? Who’s doing all the flying here?!”

“Somepony who thinks he owns turnings, apparently.” Spidey’s eyes almost burst through the lenses as they whipped around a corner. “Ack! Where’re you going now?!”

“Celestial Park! You want ley lines!” 

“I want to be in one piece! Know what else’d be nice?! A pilot with a sense of direction!” 

“You wanna swing it, you go right ahead!” 

“Maybe I—Spider-Sense! Low!” 

Johnny dived, the shadow of the Destroyer’s tail whip cracking the empty air where they’d just been! He banked as wide as possible, trying to put distance between the giant and cross as many of the park’s different sections as possible. One of the biggest clusters of ley lines in town. 

“Too low!” Spidey cried, streamlining his hind legs so he could ski across the surface of the reservoir, water sheeting into the gaining Destroyer’s face. “Too low!” 

“There is no pleasing you today!” 

“There’s the Planetarium!” 

“I already let whatshername have the museums!” 

“No, stir-fry head, Bridleway!” 

“You wanna take her to a show now? How do you have the budget for this filly?” 

“MJ knows somepony. I mean—!” 

“One of the biggest ley lines in the city, I know.” Johnny put on an extra burst of speed to avoid blazing into civilian airspace. “I’m messing with you.” 

“By scraping me to a smear on 76th street for some reason?!” 

“Shortcut! Gonna take the turning at 73rd to get on 71st! Make him cross the line twice!” 

“Why skip 72nd?” 

“73rd’s closer to 71st!” 

“That is not how that works!” 

“I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOU BOTH!” the Basilisk howled through the Destroyer’s grill.

“AH, SHADDUP!” both ponies shot back. 

“Will you just admit we’re lost and ask somepony?!” Spidey snapped, twisting to avoid a billboard. 

“Oh yeah, at fifteen stories up and near 200mph! I’ll just flag down a passing airship!” Johnny’s eyes darted earthward, Spidey yelping as his body followed. “Hel-LO!” 

The swiping Destroyer overbalanced in mid-air as its razor tipped wing completely missed Spidey’s tail, sending itself tumbling into the river. 

The candy coloured mare with the chrysanthemum cutie mark blinked at it, then the molten stallion drifting a few feet above the pavement in front of her in One-Of-Your-French-Girls pose. The weirdo luchador she sometimes saw in the newspapers dangled upside down from the street light his line had wrapped around, trying to count the stars whistling around his head. 

“Excuse me, ma’am! First, just wanna say that is a delightful shade of eyeshadow. Second, could you possibly tell a lost and lonely colt what part of this great metropolis he happens to be in?” 

“Hobs Garden,” she croaked.

“Really!” Johnny smirked up at the woozy Spider-Pony. “I do believe to get all the way here from the Upper East Side, one would have to pass through Antlersona.” 

“You don’t wanna know what’s about to pass through me…” Spidey groaned. The sound of the Destroyer bursting out of the river rocked the air. “Oh no.” 

He let out a wail as the Torch took off again, spinning around the street light like an unwinding fishing lure before finally coming loose. “Where are you taking me now, you lunatic?!” 

“Chelsea! Now who needs a compass! Wanna swing by your place and get yours?” 

Spidey squinted as light began to flash along the clamp he’d placed on the Destroyer’s tail. It sparked aggressively as the behemoth’s torso rushed over the neighbourhood ley line, flicking briefly into visibility in its shadow. “Actually, I think we’re done...”


***

Manehattan was relatively young as Equestrian cities went. It had been cobbled together out of various settlements grown around the promising island before they all banded together to reach it. But many things had happened since then. The island had its own paths, centuries old, older than the two sisters who’d one day rule over it, and the inhabitants just added more. 

Left alone, Manehattan Island would probably have been a smorgasbord of different magical environments just due to sheer geography. It was too big and varied, part of a planet evolved from magic. Forests and hills and rivers. Eventually trade roads. Sewers. Streets. New streets. Train lines. Subways. Basements. And underneath, the older lines. The older histories. New layers being added decades at a time. 

Each species brought something of their heritage and magic with them, tracing more and more. Neighbourhoods and parks replaced swamps and glens and hills, all different but part of the whole. Under the right lens, the City that Never Slept would look like a brain scan, different neurons constantly firing. Sometimes things sparked, a burst of random magic. And the city’s attitude had tamed even that, turning it into a minor annoyance, a more carnivalesque version of static shock. 

And it was this constantly shifting background magic Peter had been counting on. That the giant-sized anklet he’d thrown together had been absorbing as Tombs chased them from district to district. 


***

“What?!” the Destroyer bellowed as crackling ley line energy raced from the anklet through its tail and all over its torso. It juddered to a halt, slamming into the street, fighting to move. “A…paralysis spell?!” 

“Ley line powered!” Spidey crowed, dropping from the hovering Torch’s grip onto a nearby fire escape. “Just had to alter the re-aligners to pick up ley energy and BAM!” 

“Webs figured you’d use bigger versions of your old tricks,” the Torch smirked. “Especially the one where you pack the tail of your outfit with ley re-aligners, so nothing happens to it in mid-flight. And that’s not even how he beat you the first time he figured it out. Check your six.” 

Straining, the Destroyer’s helm turned to see a glimmering, static-like thread trailing from the bracelet around its tail. “That accursed ley tracking trick?!” 

“The absence of ley energy thanks to the vibrations of your re-aligners, but yeah. I’m flattered you remember!” Johnny could hear the grin under Spidey’s mask. “Not only is your new suit so much junk right now, every Wonderbolt and M.E.U.P. officer is following that trail right back to whatever rock you're hiding under.”  

“They’ll find your remains first!” Tombs shrieked through the helm “This thing is powered by my will! And my hate! And I DESPISE YOU!” 

Both ponies dived aside as the engine of destruction launched itself at them out of sheer hatred, ploughing right through the building. Cowering civilians looked up, finding the crushing rubble super-heated together and caught in a straining web-net. 

“He’s still moving!” Johnny half sang desperately as he amped up his flames, for all the good they’d do. 

“I know!” Peter shot-sang back, wondering if it was worth snagging some of the rubble to use as a flail and trying to buy some distance. 

The Destroyer’s torso loomed out of the shattered façade of the building, looking even angrier for the manically sparking ley energy dancing all over it. “And now—!” 

It froze. “Wait! No! NO!” 

The helm juddered as if struck like a gong, sagging into its chest. The super ponies looked at each other, then flinched as the Destroyer reared up again…somehow more gracefully. It gently pulled itself out of the building, managing to land on the sidewalk with incredible dignity despite most of its tail still being half way up the wall and indoors. 

“Gentlecolts. This is Princess Luna. Well done.” 

The crowds and rescue workers broke into wild, relieved applause. The sky filled with Wonderbolts and Johnny let out a relieved puff of flame to see Sue, Reed and the Thing hovering towards them on one of her invisible platforms. He glanced at Spider-Pony, blinking at the sight of Peter’s masked ears folding. 

“What’s with you? Your gizmo worked! We won!” 

“That’s my apartment building.” 

“Oh.”

“My apartment specifically.” 

“…oh.” 

They watched in silence as Luna irritably yanked the Destroyer’s tail free, eviscerating Peter’s ceiling and obscuring the wreckage in a cloud of dust. As if the place had just freshly exploded. 


To be Continued