Sunset stood there, smiling gently. But Adagio wasn’t looking at the smile. She stared to the hand – outstretched, ready to pull her back to the life she knew. Guilt, bills, headaches… and friends.
Adagio looked over her shoulder. Princess Celestia beamed placidly, while the other sirens watched her with guarded eyes. Prisoners.
No choice, really. Adagio took Sunset’s hand and pulled her into a hug.
“Take care of yourself,” Adagio murmured. Crying, and didn’t care to hide it.
Sunset nodded, giving no further protest. No resistance came when Adagio stepped from her grasp and turned to the mirror.
Celestia’s smile remained, bright and boring as the sun. Yet both Aria and Sonata wore a twisting grimace as Adagio approached. The pair traded a glance and nod, coming to some unspoken union, and walked back through the portal to Earth.
Adagio hesitated. Were they coming back to greet her? Unexpected, but whatever. She gave them a weak, tear-stained smile.
Sonata rolled her eyes. Aria looked away.
The duo parted as they reached Adagio, with Sonata coming around to the other side.
“You think we’re idiots,” Aria said, stopping right in front of Adagio.
“Prove me wrong.” Sappy as Adagio felt, her snark came instinctively.
“Maybe later.”
Aria shoved as she said the words. The startled Adagio staggered, then tripped over Sonata’s outstretched leg, sending her butt-first to the snow.
The pair smirked down to her, but gave no taunts or mockery. Adagio wiped her eyes, and when she looked again, Sonata had squatted down with a nervous laugh.
The ditzy voice came, lacking any hint of cruel humor. “So… I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but this is dumb.”
Aria folded her arms, looking to Adagio with as soft an expression as she ever wore. “Adagio, we’ve had our disagreements…”
“Knife fights!” Sonata cheered.
A vein throbbed once on Aria’s forehead. “Yes, thank you, Sonata. But Adagio: we’re not going to screw this up. We’re going to figure out how to be good, okay?”
Adagio raised an eyebrow.
Aria groaned. “Fine, we’re going to figure out how to be less evil. But you’re already there. You helped save the stupid world, for crying out loud, even though it meant giving up what you love. You don’t need the ponies and you don’t need us, so what the heck are you doing?”
“You need me,” Adagio countered. “And Earth sucks next to Equestria. You know it, we all know it.”
Sonata gave a dry groan. “Seriously? If there’s a smart, ruthless bitch who can go for her dreams and actually find them here, it’s you.”
“And as for us...” Aria sighed and shrugged. “We’re going to a safe place. We want to make it work. There will be hangups, but I think this is something we need to do on our own. We need to get smart, and that won’t happen if you’re around to make all the smart choices for us.”
Another hard sigh. “You have friends. You’re important here – as a member of a team, and a part of people’s lives. The stage you’re at now is what Sonata and I need to reach.”
Sonata stood from her crouch with a strange, peaceful smile and offered a hand down to Adagio. “Tell you what: let us get better from our end, and you get better from yours. We’ll meet up somewhere downstream and compare notes.”
Adagio accepted the hand and allowed herself to be hauled to her feet. She embraced her sisters, and the three gripped each other harder than ever before.
The goodbyes were brief. No point in lingering. Celestia seemed to look on proudly, but Adagio suspected she would have done so no matter the end.
Adagio waved as her sisters went through the portal, this time for good. For now. They didn’t turn back, and Celestia followed them in.
Snow was falling. Maybe the last one of the year.
Dark and cold, yet the city cast her friends in low illumination. They had stood back respectfully during the last confrontation, and now smiled to her with quiet welcome. No unneeded cheers, or questioning why she allowed her mind to change. They were cool like that.
Laughter flowed up through Adagio’s throat. Such an odd group. Applejack was so tall that Wallflower looked like a midget standing next to her. Twilight hunted in a white lab coat of all the silly things, and Sunset… wasn’t she the strangest of them all? Ex-pony and would-be tyrant, turned to an adoring daughter, bad-ass monster hunter, and sickening goody two-shoes.
Perfect friends for a washed-up siren with ambitions of stardom and a fondness for knives.
She spread her arms wide, inviting a hug. The rest followed inevitably.
The next day.
Luna entered the living room, shoving cheese sticks and spare ammunition into her purse. “Sis, I’m heading back out.”
Celestia gave a “Mm,” and nothing more. She lounged sideways on the couch, with cold packs against her cracked ribs.
“Need anything?”
“Mm.”
Bruised as she was, Celestia’s expression held only a small, giddy little smile. Her fingers tapped the phone, sending out an endless stream of texts. The crystal hammer – which Luna still hadn’t received an explanation for – sat ignored, leaning in a corner until they decided where to store it.
“How’s Sunset?”
“Mm.”
“Man, I wish I had been with you guys. I’ll take space pony air raids against graveyard duty with Harshwhinny any day of the week.”
“Two years ago, you rode a unicorn into battle and saved the school.” Celestia finally gave real words, though her eyes remained on the phone. “I suppose it was our turn to be the motorcycles.”
Luna blinked.
“I mean, ‘the heroes.’” A few seconds passed, then Celestia added, “I think I want to learn how to use a motorcycle.”
“Tia, is there something you want to tell me?”
“Yes. Something very important.”
Celestia let another pause build expectation, then turned laughing eyes to her sister. “I love you.”
Luna chuckled, though played her part and groaned. “Anything else?”
“Not right now.”
“Cool.” Luna turned, patting instinctively at her chest holster. “Whooves said we might have to go through every stupid graveyard in the city. Can you handle dinner by yourself?”
“Mm.” Celestia’s gaze was already back on her phone. The pink mouth pursed slightly, and as Luna watched, teeth slipped out and bit the lower lip.
“See you tonight.”
Not even a mumble, this time. A grin played on Luna’s face as she turned, leaving Celestia to her who-knows-what.
Tuesday class. Four days since Tirek rose, and mankind once more decided acknowledging the supernatural was too haaaaaaaard. Leaders had elections to worry about, adults had bills, and students had tests. Who had time for anything else?
Yet Earth’s Discord had witnessed human blindness too often to be surprised. He muscled through his bland lesson on Earth’s bland myths, consoling himself that at least the building he was in wasn’t bland. The Spoiled Rich Hall’s piggy-bank shape drew delightful annoyance from its students, though honestly even Discord thought it looked dumb.
“And so, having been defeated by the muses, the sirens lost their voices. But really, it’s their own fault for being idiots. If a villain relies on the power of their songs, one would expect them to at least be good enough to win a music contest – a band battle, as it were. Of all the cringe-worthy defeats in all of legend, the sirens appear particularly incompetent.”
His eyes moved as he spoke, finding the seats in the back corner. Sunset Shimmer at least had the grace to raise eyebrow with an annoyed expression. Adagio, though, simply smirked at Discord. He was trying to get under her skin, of course. But she knew, and it was failing, and she was letting him know it was failing…
Oh, enough of this.
The students suddenly looked surprised. He must have said it out loud.
Discord threw his textbook to the side. It hit someone unimportant. He could see the headlines now, “Professor ASSAULTS Student!”
“What’s the matter with you? All of you, I mean. Humanity.” He paced to the side, one finger raised. “Actually, let’s start with you in this room. Why are you taking a myths and legends class? It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Um, three credit-hours, so what is this costing your parents? Like six-hundred dollars, for this class alone. For what? Nothing that will serve you in the real world. Six-hundred dollars, just farted into the breeze.”
“I need elective course hours,” Sugarcoat said drolly.
“And Trixie enjoys old myths.”
“Then read them yourself, you idiot!” Discord paused behind his desk and bent down, shouting from out of sight. “Start a club. Visit the library. Browse on bleepity-bleeping Wikipedia! Coming here to get it forced down your throats, tested and regulated… what a waste of everyone’s time and money! The whole ‘elective’ bit is a scam, anyway. ‘Golly, I need useless random classes before I become a bleeping engineer. Guess I’ll just take what’s fun! All it’ll cost me is the yearly wage of three-quarters of the globe!’”
He stood, having found the object of his search: a gasoline container. He liberally began dumping its contents on the carpet and desk, rambling on. “I’m sorry your idiotic system forces this idiotic expenditure of money, which this college uses to justify expanding its faculty to offer even more worthless classes. But there comes a point when you have to stop blaming society and start accepting responsibility for your own actions. You’re wasting your lives and your parents’ money, and if you are actually interested in this hogwash, you’re wasting your own creativity by having these lessons force-fed into you!”
“What are you doing?” Fluttershy asked, very quietly.
The gas can emptied. Discord gave it another few shakes for good measure. “Overreacting. This all has become quite boring, and I’m ready to move on.”
He took out a lighter. God, these kids were dumb; only now did they start running.
No casualties. Some students had to defy Darwin and wake their peers as the classrooms burned around them. Sunset even helped haul out a handicapped person, predictable twat that she was.
Best of all, the eyesore that was the Spoiled Rich Hall was gone forever… in a fashion. Spoiled Rich would later finance construction of a new building (mostly with tax-deducted charity money), shaped like her face and named the Spoiled Rich Hall.
Such would be the problem of future students, a title which assuredly did not include Discord. He hummed ‘Rise of Tirek’ – fun times, that – as he bounded up the steps to his house. He’d probably end up burning down this one, too. Time to get a fresh start somewhere else.
He tossed his hat onto the coat stand, then moved briskly to the kitchen and pitched his keys to the counter. He then turned to the living room to find Principal Celestia, Sunset Shimmer, and Equestria’s Discord in wait, all with drawn and pointed guns.
Discord – ‘Mister D,’ for clarity’s sake – raised one finger, more for appearance than having anything to say. A hail of bullets struck him down, not stopping until after he fell. Guns clicked empty and reloads snapped in, but the trio apparently felt that turning him into a hole-pocked corpse got the message across loud and clear.
Sunset kicked him hard on the leg, snarling with amusing rage. “Oh, get up. You’re way more intact than a human would be, anyway.”
“Scary that you know that,” Mister D replied cheekily. He cracked open one eye and turned it on Celestia. “What is your child being exposed to? You must be a bad parent.”
Sunset growled before her mother could speak. “Whose fault is that? We compared notes, and I’ve been thinking. Way back in September, six months ago...”
“Feels more like fourteen months to me,” Mister D said, giving a broad wink.
Sunset ignored him. “The Hailgrogar ghouls. They said they needed a second virgin to give to you.”
Mister D shrugged. “Working plan to bring up Tirek. Virgin blood is like magic plastic, you can do anything with–”
“There’s more, isn’t there?” Sunset snapped. “If they only needed the one virgin they’d have taken Adagio, and honestly, I don’t know if we’d have noticed until it was too late. Instead they had to take Applejack, too.”
She swallowed hard. “Did you actually predict that we’d rescue them? That was what got my group into the business. Was that all just an elaborate way to get your jollies with a–”
Now Mister D interrupted, and he did so with an obnoxious yawn. “Please, Miss Shimmer; you’re not at all important to me. Although your little ride to glory against Tirek was a nice added bonus, I got my monster battle, and now it’s time for another project. Please thank Twilight Sparkle for me, her help was invaluable.”
A low smile. “Perhaps she and I will… ‘collaborate’ in the future.”
Sunset pushed the barrel of her pistol into Mister D’s forehead. “Try it, dick.”
“Consider, if you will: I did nothing wrong. It was Twilight who made the machine which summoned the elder god, and the sirens who raised Tirek. All I ever did was talk to people.”
Sunset dismissively spat. “Word games might impress a lawyer, but I just changed majors to art.”
Celestia blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Later, Mom.”
Mister D yawned again, and shrugged on the ground. “Hm, now that I think about it, you’re not so different from me, Sunset. We’re both in it for the fun.”
“Bite me.”
“Let’s be real.” Mister D began climbing to his feet, brushing off the blood like dust. “You don’t fight for the betterment of humanity or any other noble ideal. There are those you care to protect, yes, and with sufficiently tortured logic you may call your hunting ‘duty.’ But in your heart of hearts, beneath all the candy and lies, we both know you’re here for kicks and giggles. You’re a bad-ass zombie hunter saving the day. A real, honest hero in an era where the word has become cheapened and over-used. You’re doing this for you, you, you, and how cool it makes you feel.”
Sunset blew a stray hair to the side, never moving her glare. “You’re not even half-right. Yeah, I’m a bad-ass. But I also think random strangers shouldn’t die to ghouls or demigods.”
She stepped back, brushing shoulders with her mom. “We save lives and look good doing it.”
“Pish. You’re just another ex-villain trying to act cool.”
Equestria’s Discord rolled his eyes. “When you don’t bother getting to know anyone, all you see is the labels, and that makes everyone look the same. It’s like I said earlier, making friends would let you understand–”
“Boring!” Mister D leaped up with a cry, earning an extra few bullet-holes. He tapped his cane to the floor around him, turning it and the earth beneath into chocolate milk.
He sank, though not before hurling the cane at his twin. “Get lost! And as for you two...”
A sharp-toothed grin emerged. “See you around.”
Sunset grinned back, just before he sank. “We’ll be ready.” But Mister D laughed, then was gone.