Fletcher and Caboose continued their search through Canterlot, followed by Nabudis and Survival. They had departed from Restaurant Row, and were currently checking the nearby alleyways.
"For being the shining capital of Equestria, this place sure has a lot of dark, dirty alleyways." Caboose noted.
“I hate to admit it, but you’re right.” Fletcher frowned, “I might have underestimated how many alleyways there was when I first made the search patterns.”
“Well, that’s something you want to hear several hours into a search.” Nabudis grunted.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t working.” Fletcher retorted firmly, “But perhaps we should start splitting up. We’d cover more ground that way.”
“Well, that could speed things up a little.” Survival nodded.
“I dunno…” Caboose frowned, “I mean, you heard doctor grumpy over here. This girl has spooky powers. Did we ever actually talk about what to do when we find her?”
“That will be for me to worry about.” Nabudis grunted, “Your only concerns should be helping us find her-”
“-Before the others do. We know.” Caboose rolled his eyes, “Still, I think we should stick together. If horror movies taught me anything, splitting up just ends up getting more ponies killed.”
“Again with the horror movies…” Survival muttered, as he glared at Caboose, “Look, I highly doubt the mortality rate will be affected whether we stick together or not.”
“What do you know? You’ve ever been in one before?” Caboose challenged.
"No, but I've seen enough to know how unrealistic they are." Survival scoffed.
"Oh, yeah?" Caboose sneered. "What about 'I Know What You Did Last Summer Sun Celebration'?"
"Totally unbelievable." Survival shook his head. "We're supposed to believe the killer survived being hit by a carriage and thrown into the sea?"
"It could happen!" Caboose insisted.
"What about his uncanny ability to unerringly stalk all his victims, sometimes appearing from out of nowhere?" Survival continued. "He wasn't even a Unicorn!"
"Maybe he's just really quick, and sneaky?" Caboose suggested.
"I doubt that." Survival smirked.
"Oh, yeah?" Caboose growled. "Then what about... 'Candystallion'?"
"Oh, please." Survivial scoffed. "For starters, there was way too much blood. And why would he need to have his name said five times in order to be summoned? Surely one would be enough..."
"'Wishmaestro'!" Caboose stubbornly continued.
"Utter nonsense." Survival shook his head. "Why would the Djinn purposefully twist the mare's wishes in horrible ways if his whole plan revolved around getting her to make three wishes? He sabotaged himself!"
"He's bad guy!" Caboose countered. "It's what they do!"
"Well, that's some solid logic." Survival scoffed. "Exactly what I'd expect of movies like that..."
"Who said movies have to have logic?" Caboose scoffed. "That's your first mistake right there!"
“Wow, looks like I walked in on a very enthralling discussion.”
The group turned, and saw Sterling standing before them, a slightly defeated look on his face.
"Hey, you're back!" Caboose smiled.
“That didn’t take long.” Fletcher mused, “How did your lead go?”
"It went... Somewhere." Sterling shrugged. "You guys?"
"Still following breadcrumbs." Survival declared. "With little success."
"Which is why we shouldn't waste any more time talking." Nabudis said bluntly. "So let’s shut up about ‘horror movies’ and get back to work."
"Killjoy." Sterling scowled.
"See if I invite you to our next movie night..." Caboose said under his breath.
As the group continued moving, Fletcher and Caboose subtly moved closer to Sterling.
“So, what was this lead you were talking about?” Fletcher asked.
“It turned out to be a huge waste of time.” Sterling shook his head, “Nothing worth talking about.”
“Yet you felt the need to run off and check it out.” Fletcher frowned, “Sterling, who did you talk to?”
“Come on, Sterling. You can trust us, remember?” Caboose urged.
“Well, I guess there’s no point hiding it.” Sterling huffed, “I was talking with Dysley.”
“...Dysley? Wait, isn’t that the guy Black dropped a ceiling on back in that one flashback a while back?” Caboose frowned in confusion.
“Not that Dysley. That was Sacred Dysley.” Sterling corrected, “I’m referring to Secretariat Dysley. His son.”
“As in the CEO of Brightdale?” Fletcher raised a brow, “The leading pharmaceutical company in all of Equestria? What in Equestria would you be doing talking to someone like him?”
“Well, because he is… well, was my fellow Ouroboros of the Forefathers.” Sterling revealed.
“What?!” Caboose and Fletcher gaped.
“His son became a Forefather?” Fletcher frowned.
“Aw, the boy is keeping it in the family. How sweet.” Caboose smiled.
“‘Sweet’ is not how I would describe this.” Fletcher grimaced, “How long has he been with the Forefathers?”
“Well, he was sworn into the Ouroboros shortly before I left for the Crystal Empire for Project: Maelstrom.” Sterling admitted, “But that’s not important: what is important is what he is up to.”
“What do you mean?” Fletcher asked.
“You two are aware of Project: Bad Dreams, right?” Sterling declared.
“You mean that project that Black supposedly stopped but not really?” Caboose suggested.
“The very same.” Sterling nodded.
“Ballista did tell us that the project was still in operations, under the one you called ‘Doc’.” Fletcher recalled… before giving a dreaded look, “Oh, Faust, did Secretariat-”
“Take his father’s place in the project? Yeah.” Sterling glared.
“Oh, that’s doubly sweet!” Caboose smirked, “He’s finishing his father's life work!”
“Caboose, that isn’t a good thing.” Sterling deadpanned.
“It isn’t?” Caboose’s smile faded.
“What exactly did you and Secretariat talk about?” Fletcher asked.
“Nothing substantial, unfortunately.” Sterling admitted, “Like his father, the punk got a mouth on him… but I will tell you this: he is involved in this somehow.”
“Involved? How so?” Fletcher frowned.
“...I don’t quite know.” Sterling grimaced, “But what I do know is this: his company owns the hospital, who was holding this patient, who has ‘special’ powers. And he has been running Project: Bad Dreams in his father’s place, a project concerning a ‘subject’. This can’t all be a coincidence, can it?”
“That is a fair point, but still, it’s just speculation.” Fletcher frowned, “Did Dysley actually admitted to any involvement with the attack or the patient?”
“Well, no, but he was playing dumb.” Sterling scowled, “And he did tell me that he was working on Project: Bad Dreams!”
“But none of us truly knows what Project: Bad Dreams really is.” Fletcher said firmly, “I’m sorry, but even if he does have some part in all this nonsense, without proof, we can’t really do anything with Dysley, ”
"Just like those lacrosse sticks back home..." Caboose shook his head.
"So we're just supposed to let him keep doing what he's doing?" Sterling protested. "Seriously?"
"I'm afraid that's the way it has to be." Fletcher shrugged. "We cannot act against him directly."
"Okay, fine." Sterling said reluctantly. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
“I know!” Caboose lit up, “Maybe we should ask the docs! They technically work for him! Maybe they might know!”
“That might not be a good idea.” Sterling held up a hoof.
“What? Why?” Caboose frowned.
“You just said so yourself, Dysley is pretty much their boss.” Sterling declared, “They might take an exception to us suspecting him of any wrongdoing.”
“Indeed, and that could lead to them ceasing co-operations altogether.” Fletcher nodded.
“Yeah, I guess… and they could stop working with us too.” Caboose admitted, “...But what do we do then?”
“The only thing we can do at this moment.” Fletcher declared, “Find the patient and deal with whoever is after her. Then we’ll know for sure what is going on.”
"Excuse me, what did I just say?!" Nabudis called back angrily. "We need to stay together, and keep moving!"
"Please?" Survival said contritely.
"I'd almost forgotten what a nice guy he is..." Sterling glared at Nabudis. "Let's get after that kid so we can finish this as quickly as possible."
"That's the plan." Fletcher nodded. "Not my plan, but still..."
Up ahead, Nabudis once again cast a suspicious look at the three of them.
"There they go again." He scowled. "What are they whispering about?"
"No idea." Survival frowned. "By the looks on their faces, it seems important. So why don't they share it with us?"
"Perhaps because they're discussing things they don't want us to know about." Nabudis sneered, “Maybe including why they’re really after the patient.”
“You know, I would normally disagree… but you might be onto something.” Survival admitted.
“Wel-wait, really?” Nabudis glanced at Survival in surprise.
“Look, I still don’t think Fletcher and Caboose have any ill intent for us or the patient.” Survival explained… before scowling, “But it’s that Silver guy I’m worried about.”
“Him?” Nabudis glanced at Sterling, a bit confused.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s weird enough that he comes out of nowhere to help us.” Survival grimaced, “And there’s the fact that he wouldn’t let me study him… and call me crazy, but I think I might have seen him somewhere before…”
“...Well, he is from the RDL…” Nabudis shrugged, surprisingly hesitant, “As are Fletcher and Caboose.”
“But those two are consultants.” Survival retorted, “Silver… he claims to be from RDL… but for all we know, he’s part of some shadowy ‘Illuminati’ organization… like those Forefathers I keep hearing about in the news.”
"That is... quite the theory." Nabudis noted. "Though I have to agree with you on the subject of something being off here."
"So what do you recommend we do?" Survival asked.
"We play along... for now." Nabudis declared. "The second any of them try anything, we make them regret ever getting getting involved in our business."
“You think we can take them all?” Survival frowned.
“You insult me.” Nabudis smirked, “I may be getting on in age, but I have a few tricks up my sleeves.”
The others joined them seconds later.
"And what are you two talking about?" Sterling frowned.
"Oh, nothing." Nabudis shrugged.
"Just some medical matters." Survival declared. "Nothing you'd understand."
"I dunno, I think I've been in enough hospitals to pick up a few things." Caboose declared. "Even if I was unconscious most of the time..."
"In any case, we should keep moving." Fletcher declared. "We won't find that filly just standing here chatting."
"My thoughts exactly." Nabudis nodded. "Back to business, I say..."
The group continued onwards. Sterling, unconvinced by the pairs' excuses, kept a particularly suspicious eye on them.
Meanwhile, Nyx and her newfound friends were continuing their way through Canterlot. Nyx, still nervous about being out in the open, tried to stay close against any walls, fences and railings they passed by. Of course, it was inevitable that her ragged outfit would catch against something; to be precise, it snagged on a cracked fence, leaving a sizeable tear.
"Oh no!" Nyx gulped, trying to hold it together.
"What's wrong, Nyx?" Miracle asked, as she and the others stopped.
"My... dress ripped." Nyx said awkwardly.
"Typical girl, worrying about her clothes." Vito said dismissively.
"Save it, V." Pureblood elbowed his brother.
"I'm not surprised." Hurricane declared. "No offense, but that oversized rag looked like it was on the verge of falling apart anyway. How long have you had that?"
"Longer than you might think." Nyx said awkwardly.
"Either way, it's got to go." Miracle declared. "We're getting you some new clothes, right now."
"...Oh, you don't have to do that." Nyx said nervously. "You already bought me lunch..."
"Friends help friends." Miracle insisted. "And not to brag, but money is no object for a Princess."
"Well, if you insist..." Nyx gave in, not wanting to press the matter further.
"Great." Miracle smiled. "I know just the place."
"You guys coming with?" Hurricane asked Vito and Pureblood.
"Go clothes shopping? No thanks." Vito scoffed. Secretly, he had been hoping for an excuse to put some distance between himself and Nyx. "I'll catch you guys later."
"I'd like to, but I promised mom I'd help with the spring cleaning." Pureblood said, completely honestly. "Sorry."
"That's okay." Miracle shrugged. "We can meet back at the castle in a little while."
"All of us?" Vito cast a suspicious glance at Nyx. "You really think that's a good idea?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Hurricane frowned.
"You think your parents would like you bringing back a strange filly?" Vito asked.
“Please, mom and dad are off on a diplomatic visit to Zebrica and won’t be back for a couple of days.” Miracle glared, “Even if they weren’t, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind us giving a pony in need a safe place to stay for a little while. What's safer than the castle?"
"Sure, why not?" Vito growled, exasperated, as he walked away. "That probably won't backfire in any way..."
"See you soon." Pureblood added, as he followed after his brother.
Nyx remained silent, but was relieved to see Vito leave. He had been suspicious of her from the start, and she preferred that he would have as few opportunities to pry into her as possible.
"Guess it's just us girls then." Hurricane hugged Miracle and Nyx. "Let's get Nyxie here a new look!"
"You ready for a makeover, Nyx?" Miracle asked.
"As I'll ever be." Nyx smiled weakly.
The trio of fillies made their way down another street, fashion in their sights. Nyx made sure to hold her outfit as close to her as possible, to prevent any further tears.
'I can't let them see what's under here, no matter what...' She thought to herself.
Meanwhile, a group of police officers arrived at the hospital (having received an "anonymous" tip), intent on investigating matters.
"Sweet Celestia." The lead officer, a grizzled Earth Pony veteran by the name of Chief Force, grimaced at the mess before them. "This kind of thing never gets any easier to look at..."
"Your orders, sir?" One of his subordinates asked.
Chief Force swallowed a lump of bile.
"Search the building for any clues." He answered. "And put those poor folks, or what's left of them, into body bags."
"Yes, sir." The officer nodded.
The officers spread out, securing as many corpses as they could, while at the same time keeping their eyes open for any evidence. One of them, a broad, bearded fellow, approached the chief.
"I think I'll check out the basement, if it's all the same to you, sir." He announced.
"Very good, officer Longarm." Chief Force nodded, “It is good to have you back. How long you say you will be sticking around in Equestria?”
"Only a few days, sir." Longarm replied. "I'll be leaving for the Caymare islands for a good ten or twelve months. Some serious crimes going on there."
"I see." Chief Force noted. "Then you'd better make these few days count."
"That's the plan, sir." Longarm nodded. "And I'll start right now."
Officer Longarm split off from the others, and made his way to the basement. Once there, he took off his false beard. He was really Ballista in disguise. After taking a moment to make sure he hadn't been followed, he pulled out a mirror, and activated it.
Black appeared in the glass, Fury looking over his shoulder. The two were currently in the steam carriage, ways away from the hospital, out of all the cops’ sights.
"I'm at the hospital." Ballista announced.
"How's it looking?" Black asked dejectedly, already knowing the answers.
“You guys weren’t kidding.” Ballista shook his head, “No survivors, and no trace of whoever did this. It’s a complete bloodbath up in here."
“How you think we feel?” Black growled, “We had to see it all firsthoof.”
"Stomach-churning, ain't it?" Fury grimaced.
"And then some." Ballista admitted. "Enough to sicken even this old warhorse."
"Question is, what do we do now?" Black sighed. "The trail's gone cold. All those dead innocents, and we have no way to avenge them.."
“Hold on a minute.” Fury held up the manifest they picked up earlier, “Remember this poor excuse of a manifest? It mentioned something about the Isle of Wheat. That was where they were going with the patient before it all hit the fan.”
“Isle of Wheat? I didn’t think they had a hospital over there.” Ballista frowned.
“Well, there’s only one way to know for sure.” Black said firmly, “We oughta get over there double time. We’re gonna have to drive through the night if we want to catch the next boat there.”
"Good luck with that, fellas." Ballista smiled. "I'll stick with the investigation here, and keep you posted. If anything new pops up, I'll let you know."
"Understood." Black nodded.
Black and Fury's faces vanished from the mirror.
"Time for Officer Longarm to get back to work..." Ballista declared, putting the mirror away and replacing his fake beard. "And by 'work', I mean 'sift through all the bodies of those poor dead ponies'..."
Back in Canterlot, Nyx was lead into Canterlot Carousel. The place was quite crowded, to Nyx's nervousness. At least in the restaurant, they had sat at a table away from the others, giving her a measure of being a safe distance from others. But she wouldn't be so lucky here.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." She said awkwardly, hiding behind Miracle. "I-I don't do so well in big crowds..."
"Relax." Hurricane assured her. "You're with us, remember?"
"It'll be fine, Nyx." Miracle declared.
"What if somepony thinks I look... Strange?" Nyx asked.
"Then they'll have to answer to me." Miracle proclaimed.
"And me." Hurricane added.
"Thanks, guys." Nyx smiled.
"Anytime." Miracle smiled. "Now let's take a look around, and see if anything suits you."
The trio looked around the boutique (Nyx keeping close to Miracle and Hurricane), trying to find a new outfit for Nyx. It wasn't easy, since Nyx, having never had any experience with fashion, couldn't say which clothing she thought would look good on her.
"I just don't know." Nyx sighed. "This all seems the same."
"Let's not give up." Miracle urged. "We'll find the perfect look for you sooner or later."
Moments later, Hurricane's eye was caught by a purple vest and a mint green headband.
"Try these on." She urged.
"...Right here?" Nyx said nervously, once again glancing at the surrounding ponies.
"Of course not, silly." Miracle chuckled. "The changing rooms are right over there."
"Oh, right." Nyx chuckled awkwardly. "I'll be right back."
Taking the clothes, Nyx entered a changing room. After making sure the curtain hid her completely, she took off her smock... Revealing a pair of wings, larger than most Pegasi her age (or older).
'Ah, finally.' She thought as she stretched her wings (a few long-molted feathers falling to the floor). 'Feels good to finally let them go free...'
After taking a moment to enjoy her freedom, Nyx put on the vest, reluctantly tucking her wings back against her sides, and donned the headband. She then looked at herself in the dressing room's mirror.
'Hey, not bad...' She smiled.
"Everything okay in there, Nyx?" Miracle's voice called. "You've been in there a while."
"Uh, I'm fine!" Nyx, after taking a moment to ensure her wings were hidden, drew back the curtain. "All good here!"
"Wow, looks more than good!" Hurricane smiled. "Girl, you are rockin' that vest!"
"She's right, you look great." Miracle agreed.
"It really is a wonderful outfit." Nyx admitted. "Thank you both for this."
"No problem." Hurricane beamed. Just the, something caught her eye. "Hey, what's that?" She pointed into the dressing room.
Nyx froze with horror as Hurricane pointed to the black feathers she had just molted.
“Look, it’s not what you-” Nyx began to panic.
"That's odd." Miracle mused. "Maybe a crow got in here, or something."
Nyx breathed a sigh of relief.
"Lemme guess, you want to wear that out of here?" Hurricane asked Nyx.
"I do." Nyx nodded. "That's not going to be a problem, Is it?"
"Of course not." Miracle smiled, removing the price tag. "I'll just pay for this, and then we can go."
After Miracle brought the price tag to the cashier and paid the necessary Bits for the dress, she returned to her friends.
"Come on, Nyx." Miracle declared. "Let's go meet up with the guys, show them your new look."
"'Cause what's the point of a new outfit if you can't show it off?" Hurricane smirked.
"I like the sound of that." Nyx smiled.
As they walked back onto the streets, Nyx had a new spring in her step. No longer having to wear that ragged cloth - a constant reminder of her current situation - left her feeling elated. She didn't stand out quite as much anymore.
"Somepony's happy." Hurricane noted teasingly.
"Well..." Nyx laughed awkwardly.
"No surprise there." Miracle grinned. "The Canterlot Carousel always has the perfect outfit for anypony. That's why we brought you here."
"Thanks again." Nyx said humbly. "You keep doing all these nice things for me. I feel like I need to do something for you in return."
"That's not how friendship works." Miracle told her. "Friends do nice things for each other because it makes them happy. Seeing you happy is good enough for me."
"If you say so..." Nyx mulled the subject other, still not getting.
"Come on." Hurricane urged. "You've got some struttin' to do!"
As the three fillies continued down the street, Nyx cast aside her ruined smock, happy to be rid of it at last. Moments later, the search party approached Canterlot Carousel from the other side.
"Ooh, pitstop!" Caboose said suddenly.
"Excuse me?" Nabudis frowned.
"I just remembered, I need to get a nightshirt!" Caboose explained.
"A nightshirt?" Fletcher frowned.
“Yeah!” Caboose smirked, “Remember that plan I told you about before we got interrupted by the next scene?”
“...A little bit.” Fletcher admitted.
“What?” Nabudis mouthed in disbelief.
“Well, when I was a little foal, I’ve been having lots of bad dreams. Kept everyone back home up at night. I don’t know if it was due to stress, too much cheese before bed, or some guy in a white mask silently stalking me.” Caboose reminisced, “It wasn’t till my dad had enough and decided to do something about it. You see, he got out this old nightshirt and put me in it, despite it being too big for me. Told me it would get rid of those nightmares like it did for him. And when I went back to sleep… he was right. Instead of dreaming about being chased through a boiler room by some guy with claws and nasty burns... I was flying, all through the city of Roam. No fear, no worries… only the freest, most wonderful feeling in the world…”
“Well, that’s all moving and all, but how is this relevant to what we’re doing?” Survival asked.
"My little colt Michael has been having bad dreams lately." Caboose revealed.
“...Bad dreams?” Nabudis’s frown softened.
“Yeah, the worst.” Caboose grimaced, “Me and my wife been trying everything to help him, but nothing seems to work. But I figure if I put Mikey in a nightshirt, he might experience the same sensations I did and be able to sleep a good nights’ sleep.”
“That is terrible… but do you really have to do this now?” Survival frowned, “Time is of the essence.”
"It'll only take a minute or two." Caboose declared.
“Look, I’m sorry to hear about your son, but we don’t have a minute or two.” Nabudis growled, “There is another child that needs us more and we have already suffered too many-” He stopped, spotting something nearby.
"Hey, what's up?" Sterling asked.
Nabudis marched over to the other side of the street, and picked up Nyx's discarded smock.
“This smock… it’s the same kind we use at our hospital.” Nabudis declared.
“You’re right.” Survival gasped, “And note the tears and dirt on it. The patient must have been running like I was for the past few days.”
“If this is here, that must mean she was here recently!” Nabudis gasped.
“Hmm, it’s probably no coincidence that we found this right outside a clothing store.” Fletcher surmised, “She must have stolen some clothing from the store somehow, presumably to conceal her identity.”
"That is the most likely explanation." Nabudis admitted.
“Really?” Sterling frowned, “She’s been in the hospital for a while, hasn’t she? Where would she learn how to steal, let alone know to conceal herself?”
“Look, that isn’t important right now.” Nabudis grunted, “The patient might still be in the area! We must confront the owner of the establishment at once!”
"...Well, I guess we're all going into this charming little boutique after all." Survival smiled.
"Great." Caboose smiled. "We can get two birds with one scone."
"That's 'stone', Caboose." Sterling rolled his eyes.
"No, I'm pretty sure you can attract more birds with scones." Caboose shrugged. "They don't like stones at all. Believe me, I've checked."
"He's checked?" Survival frowned.
"Long story." Fletcher declared.
"I'll stay out here." Sterling stated. "Just in case our target comes back."
The others entered the boutique, and made a beeline for the cashier's desk.
"Can I help you, gentlestallions?" The mare at the desk asked.
"You? I'm afraid not." Nabudis said bluntly. "I need to speak to the mare in charge."
"That would be me." Sassy Saddles stepped forward. She had some gray hairs, and a few more face lines, but was as glamorous as ever.
"You can help me." Caboose told the dejected employee. "I'm looking for some nice, warm nightshirts..."
As the employee led Caboose to the right area of the boutique, Nabudis approached Sassy.
"Did you happen to see a little black filly enter your store?" He asked curtly.
“Um… a little black filly?” Sassy frowned.
“Yes. About yay high.” Nabudis gestured to halfway up his leg, “Purple mane, and light blue eyes.”
“...May I ask why?” Sassy grimaced, “Are you her father?”
“That’s not important!” Nabudis grunted, “Have you seen her or not?”
“Well, we’ve had a lot of customers this afternoon.” Sassy replied, a bit put-off, “Even if she did come in, I highly doubt I would remember her-”
"Trust me, this filly stands out." Nabudis retorted. "And we have reason to believe she came in here."
“We?” Sassy glanced at Fletcher and Survival, “All three of you are looking for this filly?”
“Fletcher Ulysses, Royal Guard.” Fletcher announced awkwardly, “I’m simply assisting these two here in finding someone. So if you have any information…”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t recall seeing the filly you described.” Sassy shrugged.
"Perhaps you need to get your eyes checked." Nabudis said through gritted teeth.
“Is there maybe any missing stock by any chance?” Survival stepped in, recognising Nabudis's mounting frustration, “Maybe the filly managed to slip in and take some clothes?”
“None whatsoever.” Sassy answered swiftly, “We here at Canterlot Carousel take pride in keeping an eye out for anything like that.”
“Yet you missed a little black filly.” Nabudis scowled.
"I'm sorry, but I already told you-" Sassy started.
“Bullcrap!” Nabudis snapped. Everypony in the room perked up, as he began getting in Sassy’s face, “How in Faust’s name could you not have seen her?! That moron of a Royal Guard raving about nightshirts could had seen her! Why not you?!”
“Sir!” Survival gaped.
"Dr. Nabudis, control yourself!" Fletcher stepped inbetween them. "She said she hasn't seen the filly. Losing your temper isn't going to change things!"
"Then why are we still wasting time here?!" Nabudis stormed out.
"Sir, wait!" Survival followed after him.
"I am terribly sorry about that, madam." Fletcher told Sassy.
"It's quite alright." Sassy sighed, a bit shaken, "I've dealt with problem customers before. Although not with that kind of request… are you sure he’s on the level?"
“...I’d have to get back to you on that one.” Fletcher grimaced, “Have a good day, madam.”
Fletcher departed from the store, following after Nabudis and Survival.
Outside the boutique, Fletcher saw that Nabudis and Survival were a little ahead, Nabudis still fuming, and Survival trying to calm him down.
"With all due respect, sir, you need to control your temper." Survival declared.
"My temper is the least of our worries!" Nabudis snarled. "The patient is still out there, and we are getting no closer to finding her!"
"Well, yelling at innocent store owners isn't going to change anything." Survival retorted boldly.
"I'll let you have that one." Nabudis grudgingly admitted the truth of Survival's statement. "But only that one..."
"I saw the good doctor was a little steamed." Sterling declared, approaching Fletcher. "Guessing your lead turned out to be a dead end?"
"In so many words, yes." Fletcher sighed. "I suppose we should return to the search, and- wait. Where's Caboose?"
Caboose suddenly emerged from the boutique, carrying a fancy bag.
“Hey, did someone call me? I heard ‘moron’ and assumed someone was looking for me.” Caboose frowned.
“That would be doctor grumpy over there.” Sterling gestured, “Apparently no one saw the filly.”
“Bummer… but at least I got my shopping done.” Caboose smirked, holding up his bag.
“For your son, right?” Fletcher smiled.
“That’s right.” Caboose chuckled, “And get this, they had a buy one, get one sale, so I got Sterling one as well!”
“Excuse me?” Sterling gaped.
“Yeah! Didn’t think I forgot about you, didja?” Caboose smirked, as he pulled out a stallion-sized shirt, “I betcha if you wear this, whatever bugging you in your dreams will go away lickedy split!”
“...How… thoughtful.” Sterling groaned, “Can I ask you to hold onto it till later? Because I don’t really-”
“Oh, right, right!” Caboose nodded as he put it back in, “I’ll give it to ya later.”
Sterling let out a sigh of relief when Nabudis shouted.
"Enough dawdling!" Nabudis scowled. "We must continue the search!"
"We're getting close, I can feel it." Survival declared. "That cloth was just the clue we needed..."
"And away we go again." Caboose declared.
"Yippee..." Sterling said sarcastically.
"At least we found proof that we're close to our target." Fletcher pointed out. "And we end up closing in before we know it..."
The trio continued after Nabudis and Survival, intent on achieving their goal.
Meanwhile, Secretariat Dysley in the midst of a fierce conversation in his carriage (which was currently parked) with the trio of hooded thugs over his mirror.
"You idiots!" He snarled. "Can't you do anything right?"
"Sorry, boss." Roadblock trembled.
"We did our best." The smallest, a stallion named Peat, gulped.
"Well, your best isn't good enough!" Dysley turned to the leader, who was named Briar. "Why haven't you found her yet?"
"She is... more elusive than we thought." Briar admitted.
"Or she's simply smarter than the three of you." Dysley spat. "Which isn't really saying much."
At that moment, his mirror buzzed.
“Dammit, I’m getting another call. Hold on.” Dysley seethed.
He tapped the mirror, as he let out a sigh to calm himself.
“This is Secretariat Dysley speaking.” Dysley put on a smile.
“Dysley.”
Dysley’s smile quickly faded as he heard that gravelly voice, as the hooded visage of none other than Father, the leader of the Forefathers, appeare in the mirror.
“F-father!” Dysley gasped, taken aback, “What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”
“Indeed you weren’t… but I was expecting one from you.” Father noted, “You do recall that you were to keep me notified regarding your… situation, correct?”
“...Oh, buck, was that today?” Dysley hissed, “My deepest apologies, sir. I had a lot of appointments this morning, a lunch date with my friend and his wife, and-”
“Sterling Cross came to see you. I am well aware.” Father cut him off.
“Okay, how did you-” Dysley frowned.
“Omniscient. A quality I possess that my sons of late can’t seem to remember.” Father deadpanned.
“Look, if you’re worried, don’t be.” Dysley scoffed, “I didn’t tell him jack crap.”
“That is assuring to hear… or it would, if not for the fact that the Royal Defense Legion and Everest’s men have now involved themselves in the search for your wayward patient.” Father frowned.
“I know. But it’s nothing to worry about.” Dysley insisted, “They’re probably running themselves in circles.”
“...Yet you are faring no better.” Father declared, “Or else you would had regaled me with the good news.”
“Alright, so our efforts at locating my wayward patient has come to naught so far.” Dysley admitted, “But I have my guys looking all over Canterlot for her. It’s only a matter of time.”
“But time, it seems, doesn’t seem to be on your side.” Father mused, “It would be most unfortunate if the patient was found and recovered by our enemies. All your work, all your father’s work… it would be all for nothing.”
"Indeed." Dysley said quietly. "Years of effort, of working with Doc..."
“...You know, Dysley.” Father began, “I’ve become aware of some hearsay around the Infinity, regarding both you and Doc…”
“...Whatever do you mean?” Dysley frowned.
“Well, from what I can gather, there has been some… shall we say, ‘dissonance’ between yourself and Doc. And it seems to have created quite a rift…” Father mused, “And you know how I feel about ‘dissonance’ between my sons…”
“I can assure you, it’s not anything like that.” Dysley said, an edge to his voice, “We might have had a few professional disagreements, but what partners don’t?”
“Really? So this wouldn’t have anything to do with why Doc has been away from Infinity for a rather long time?” Father supposed.
“...Not at all.” Dysley said firmly, “You know the doctor. He comes and goes as he pleases. I do not make it my business to know what he is doing all the time.”
“I sense agitation in your voice, Dysley.” Father mused, “...Are you certain that something hasn’t transpired between you and Doc? Something regarding Project: Bad Dreams?”
“Look, it’s nothing you need to worry about, Father.” Dysley growled, “Everything is fine. I swear.”
“...I see. Well, like you, I do not make it my business to pry into other ponies’ affairs… unless of course, it became necessary.” Father sighed, “Like now. It seems you may require somepony to spearhead your underlings’ search party. What with your ‘appointments’ and all.”
“...Hmm, it could help.” Dysley muttered, “But I haven’t the time to pick somepony out-”
“You needn’t worry about that.” Father said coolly, “I’ve already arranged somepony to meet with you.”
“Really?” Dysley gaped, “Who?”
“He should be knocking on your carriage’s door right about-” Father began.
There was a knock on the carriage’s door.
“Now.” Father finished.
A bit curious, Dysley opened the door to see who has knocked…
Only to be greeted with a familiar (and quite unwelcome) dark blue Unicorn stallion.
“Silas Necross, leader of the Order of Darkness, at your service.” Silas sneered, slinging a (fake) silver-tipped cane, much like his old one.
Dysley glanced at the sneering stallion… and shut the door.
“...Well, buck you too.” Silas hissed, offended.
“Father… why is that pompous oaf from that dead order standing outside my carriage?” Dysley deadpanned.
“That would be your ‘help’, Dysley.” Father explained.
"...Are you bucking me right now?!" Dysley gaped. "This guy?! Out of everycreature in the organization, you chose him?!”
"I have my reasons." Father declared. "One being that Necross has a history with dark magic. That, and Ricochet and Loveless are currently unavailable." He shrugged.
“Well, couldn’t you have at least sent more than just him?” Dysley grimaced, “I highly doubt Silas is going to help me find my patient before those RDL clowns.”
“That would be ill-advised.” Father pointed out, “Canterlot is still wary of us following Titanfall. To send a platoon of agents would attract too much attention…” He then added coldly, “And to be fair… the only reason those ‘RDL clowns’ became aware of the patient is because of the attack on one of your own carriages… which cost three ponies their lives.”
“I had no choice, sir.” Dysley said firmly, “It was the only way.”
“So you say.” Father retorted, “Actions have consequences. And your actions have yielded potentially dangerous and catastrophic consequences. I am not entirely certain of what is going on between you and the doctor, but I should warn you that the last pony who lied to me is currently facing life imprisonment… without his horn.”
"I see." Dysley gulped, clearly intimidated by Father's statement. "But I assure you, sir, by the time this is all done, the patient will be ours, and our project will finally bring the Forefathers’ goal to fruition."
“Hmph, I have heard that before.” Father grunted, “I do expect some results, Dysley, and you’d best deliver. Faust knows we have had enough bad news as of late. Do I make myself clear?”
"...Yes, sir." Dysley sighed.
"Good." Father said curtly. "Until then."
Father's face vanished from the mirror… only to be replaced by Briar.
"Is everything alright, sir?" Briar asked. "You were gone for quite a while..."
“I’ll call you back.” Dysley growled, as he quickly tapped the mirror.
With a sigh, he reopened the carriage’s door, Silas still standing out there.
“About time.” Silas grumbled.
“I do apologize.” Dysley declared, no sincerity in his voice whatsoever, “I was simply not expecting… well, you.”
“Well, all I know is that the big man himself sent another pony to tell me that I was to come back to Canterlot to help some guy… that’s you, right?” Silas frowned.
"It would appear so, yes." Dysley nodded, as he gestured inside his carriage, “Come in, we’ll talk more on the way.”
Silas stepped into the carriage, and they departed.
"Not bad." Silas took note of the quality of the carriage interior. "Somepony has a taste for the finer things..."
"If you're going to travel, you may as well travel in style." Dysley shrugged.
"No argument here." Silas declared. "Nice to have money, huh?"
"It doesn't hurt." Dysley admitted.
There was a brief, awkward silence.
“So… you’re that pharamaceutical titan, aren't you?" Silas pointed out. "Lots a' money in your pockets?"
"That's right. Secretariat Dysley." Dysley said curtly.
“Dysley? Hey, I think I remember that name.” Silas mused, “Your father was Sacred Dysley, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah… was.” Dysley grumbled.
“Right… he was that Ouroboros who got that ceiling dropped on him.” Silas gave a small chuckle, “Not a dignified way to go, huh?”
“I thank you to not speak a word of him.” Dysley snarled, “In fact, I thank you to not say a thing at all.”
“Touchy, touchy.” Silas held up his hooves, “I figured you be a bit more gracious, given I’m helping cleaning up your mess.”
“Oh, please. I heard all about your blunders over the years.” Dysley scoffed, “Honestly, only a fool like you could mess up your ‘big plan’ twice.”
“I didn’t mess up any-” Silas seethed, before catching himself. He took a deep breath, “...There were outlying factors for both times. I can hardly be blamed for messing anything up.”
“Sure you can.” Dysley rolled his eyes.
“What about you, Mr. Moneybags?” Silas smirked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dysley grunted.
“Come on, I’ve been hearing the same things back in Infinity.” Silas challenged, “About how Doc has up and vanished, and how he has moved that ‘subject’ of his to an unknown location. All without telling you. Sounds like somepony pissed somepony off.”
“It’s nothing.” Dysley grunted, growing very agitated, “Me and Doc just had a gentecolt disagreement. That’s all.”
“Oh, really? And it wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with you having three guys attack a carriage from your hospital, and this so-called ‘patient’?” Silas challenged.
“Fair warning, Silas. The others may have been willing to put up with your horse-crap.” Dysley leaned in, his eyes glaring holes into him, “But I’m not. So I will say it once: ‘drop it’.”
“Okay, okay…” Silas scoffed, “...So, what now?”
“I’m going to drop you off at Silver Shoals and have you rendezvous with my other agents. Since Father think you know Canterlot best, you’re going to be leading them in finding this patient.”
“And what are you going to be doing?” Silas challenged.
“I have to keep up appearances, meaning you’d better not lollygag or whatever in your search. I already have enough problems as it is.” Dysley grunted, “No thanks to you, I’m already late for my meeting with the executives from the Verdant corporation.” He then paused, “Speaking of appearances, aren’t you technically a wanted criminal here in Canterlot?”
“Oh, please. I’ll have you know that one of my specialties is blending in with the crowds.” Silas smirked, “My whole life, no one has never once paid me any mind. I grew up in some no-name town, my parents barely did anything to encourage me to be special, I could never be part of a group, and I was the most average student you can imagine. When it comes to not standing out, I'm your stallion..."
“For your sake, I hope so.” Dysley huffed, “I still say Father made a mistake picking you.”
“Well, just you wait, rich boy.” Silas glared, “I'll find this kid, and I won't need a big bank account to do it..." He then paused, “...On that note, who is it exactly I’m looking for?”
Dysley's clenched his teeth with anger. He could already tell his partnership with Silas wasn't going to go swimmingly.
’Just perfect, as if things couldn’t get more bothersome.” He thought bitterly, ’...But I have no choice. That filly must be found before Elite’s lackeys get to her first. Father is already questioning my capabilities, and Doc…’ He clenched his hooves, ’You will be found, young lady, and returned to me. You were created to serve a purpose, and serve a purpose you shall...'