//------------------------------//
// Case Twelve, Chapter Five: Under 
// Story: Ponyville Noire: Kriegspiel—Black, White, and Scarlet 
// by PonyJosiah13 
//------------------------------//

The trio trotted up the unevenly paved surface of Boiler Street, eyes sweeping the ground. The street was dead silent around them. On a warm summer Saturday afternoon such as this, with the sun cooled by a thin layer of clouds, there should’ve been foals and fillies out playing in their yards, pedestrians filtering leisurely out of the small shops that sat on the sidewalks, a few cars driving past slowly, drivers looking around for a good place to stop for lunch or an ice cream. But instead, the entire neighborhood was dead silent: the businesses were shuttered, the windows of the apartments and houses dark and curtained. No voices were to be heard, no cars passed by. The only sign of life that they saw beside themselves was a Wonderbolt streaking past overhead, a submachine gun held loosely in her hooves. 

“There it is,” Daring said, pointing to a storm drain in the corner. She hurried over and grasped the grate. With a grunt, she heaved the metal construction out of the ground: the concrete setting around it was cracked and broken, revealing a hole around the removed grate just barely large enough for a pony. 

“You know, I was worried that they’d have closed this,” she said, setting the grate aside. “They’re always talking about fixing the roads in this neighborhood.” 

“City’s never had the budget for it,” Phillip replied, crouching down and shining his flashlight into the hole. A few feet beneath him was a narrow drainage tunnel of moss-coated brick, a six-inch-deep channel full of slimy water and litter bordered by two walkways each not much bigger than a balance beam. “Tight fit.” 

“Relax, you haven’t gained that much weight,” Daring replied. “If you get stuck, I’ll push you.” 

Phillip rolled his eyes, then sat down on the edge of the hole and slowly slid through, hind hooves first. He landed in the water with a splash and a grunt, swinging his flashlight to and fro. “Looks clear,” he called, moving aside for the others. 

Rainbow Dash followed him down, keeping her wings tucked close to avoid snagging, then Daring landed behind them. “That way,” she called, pointing behind Phillip as she clipped her flashlight onto her shirt and snapped it on. “You’re looking for a sheet of plywood up against the wall to your left.” 

Phillip followed the tunnel for several yards, the group silent save for the splashing that echoed off the tunnel walls. They passed underneath a few more storm drains, faint sunlight filtering through the grates along with dripping water; in a few sections, the tunnel narrowed so much that they had to push their way through, shoulders scraping against rough brick. 

Finally, they reached an old, rotten sheet of plywood that was leaning against the left wall. Phillip pushed it aside to reveal a narrow opening in the wall, chiseled out through a combination of time and hooves, jagged pipes and edges along the perimeter. The light from his flashlight barely extended into the shadows.

Spotting something in the ground, Phillip bent down and picked up a small scrap of gray cloth that clung to a jutting iron bar. He studied it for a moment, then sniffed. Blood, sweat, and tobacco. “He came down this way,” he muttered. 

“This is the closest entrance to the Under to the church,” Daring said. 

“Even tighter fit,” Phillip grunted, trying to sidle through. The walls were tight around him, grinding against his back and chest, pulling at his vest, but he pushed through. Rainbow and Daring followed close behind, both of them grunting as they struggled through. 

The ground sloped downwards and then, finally, they reemerged in a wide, dark room of wooden walls that, like the creaking, potholed floor, was covered in dust. This place looked like it had once been someone’s basement: there were still the ruins of a table and a collection of chairs in the center of the room, and a shattered picture frame lay in the corner next to the dusty remnants of a coal furnace, the rusting pipes scattered around it like bones. The sight and smell of the recent coal dust around the furnace made the hairs on the back of Phillip’s neck stand up and his hoof reach towards his holster. 

“Welcome to the Under, ladies and gentleponies,” Daring said, casting her flashlight around and drawing her own pistol, securing the hoofstraps. “I’ll be your tour guide today. No flash photography and stay with your group: there are things down here that are best left alone.” She proceeded to a door in the back of the room that clung to a crooked frame by a single rusty hinge and pushed it open with a creak, clearing the ragged, lopsided hallway outside. 

They proceeded down into the darkness, passing through fragmented sections of ancient buildings and rooms that had been semi-absorbed by the ground that they’d fallen into. Wood gave way to fragmented concrete to cobblestone to dirt. They trotted through large chambers and slithered through narrow gaps in rubble as they descended ever downwards. 

Finally, they emerged from an opening in a forgotten hallway and beheld a wide-open space before them from the top of a rise of dirt and rubble. They studied the terrain with the beam of their flashlights, every sweep revealing new details. This space had once been a city square, judging by the cobblestone circle in the center of the cleared out area. There were a few skeletal remnants of brick and mortar buildings marking the perimeter, all of them bent and warped like toys that had been stepped upon and kicked. Large, roughly circular tunnels were carved into the dirt around them, leading away into darkness: clearly, these were left behind by the tatzlwurms in their ravenous rampage. The reek of years of rot and decay mixed with the scent of clay and stone, the heavy air assaulting their nostrils and tongues with every breath. The trio shivered; the air was so cold that Daring was surprised that they couldn’t see their breath frosting. The ceiling high above them was of packed earth: as they watched, a faint rumble sounded from overhead, slowly traversing the ceiling and sending cascades of dirt down onto the ground beneath. 

“Trolley,” Phillip said. 

“This was Bank Street Square,” Daring exposited as they carefully slid down the slope to the ground. “We’re right underneath the Twelfth Line. The church is a little less than a mile from here.” 

“Look! Over there!” Rainbow Dash suddenly called, pointing. 

Her hoof indicated a figure in one of the wrecked storefronts. The skinny blue pegasus was standing in the warped door jamb. In his wing was a crude club with a nail shoved through the end: he slapped this against the doorjamb rhythmically, the sound of each slap echoing across the square. 

“Should Sticky, or should Sticky not?” they faintly heard him muttering to himself, voice carrying through the silence. “They come to the dark and cold with Sticky, but there’s three of them, and Sticky has no gun…” 

“Keep your ears open,” Daring hissed, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. “Where there’s one, there’s usually more.” 

They proceeded down one of the giant tunnels: Sticky’s eyes followed them every step of the way until they rounded the corner. There were a few rustles of movement in the shadows around them, glimpses of figures and muck-smeared faces, but they retreated from their gazes. 

“Just like wild cats,” Daring whispered to Rainbow. “Don’t show fear and they’ll back off.” 

Rainbow grinned and glared at a smaller silhouette watching them from a flat rooftop. The figure glared back, but retreated out of sight. “This is just like a Hayana Pones adventure!” she said in an excited squeak. 

“Stay focused, kid: this isn’t a storybook,” Daring replied. “But yeah, this is pretty cool,” she added a moment later, mainly to herself. 

They left the square behind and proceeded down the tunnel. There were only a few more buildings down here that had been pulled down in the earthquakes, but no sign of anypony else.

“Almost there,” Daring muttered as they reached a fork in the tunnel. She pointed down the left tunnel, the entrance of which was guarded by the leaning, crumbling remnants of a brick tower.

Suddenly, Phillip held up a hoof and signaled for silence. His ears twitched and wiggled back and forth. 

“Voices ahead,” he hissed, nodding down the left passage. 

“This way,” Daring called, beckoning for them to take cover in the shadows of the tower. Snapping off their flashlights, they peeked around the corner and spotted a faint cluster of shifting light and shadow up ahead, with voices filtering back towards them. The trio snuck closer, sticking to the shadows until they were close enough to hear more clearly. 

Phillip took his night vision binoculars out from his vest and pressed them to his eyes as Daring pulled out her monocular, both of them focusing on the figures ahead. A dozen ponies were standing in a loose circle in the middle of the channel, all of them surrounding a red unicorn with mussed green and brown hair adorned in a bloodstained gray trench coat. Clover was laying in the midst of the group, his breath slow and his eyes closed; blood dripped from his bruised face. 

“You have got to be codding me,” sighed the green unicorn with the bushy red beard that was currently pacing behind Clover. Coin Toss ran a hoof over the slide of his FNeigh Forty-Seven and took a deep breath through his nostrils. “You stole from the Mob. You disrespected what we stand for by selling drugs, corrupting children, all for fecking money. You get Black Dust killed running an errand for you. You piss off Zugzwang, who starts killing my boys to force me to find you and these fecking gems for him.” 

He suddenly whirled and smashed the butt of his pistol against Clover’s ribs, eliciting a flinch and a yelp. “My boys! Your brothers! Killed because of you being an eejit! And now you want to deal?!” Coin roared. 

“Boss, please,” Clover whimpered. “We can all come out of this richer. Just—” 

The Mareish boss snarled, then started mercilessly pistol-whipping the other unicorn, bringing the metal down onto flesh again and again, with a wince-inducing crack and a pitiful cry of pain every time. 

“Where! Did! You! Put! The! Fucking! Gems!” he shouted, punctuating each word with a blow. 

Clover didn’t answer except with broken sobs and whimpers, quivering on the ground. 

“We know you have a base down here somewhere,” Coin continued, starting to pace again. “I remember when you first mentioned that you’d settled a base down there and suggested we use it as a safehouse, I thought you were crazy. Should’ve realized then you were just stupid. So, where is it?” 

“Coin, I’m begging you,” Clover whimpered. “Just...just promise me safe passage out and you can have them…” 

Daring signaled for them to retreat and they backed up to the intersection: none of the Mareish mobsters saw them. 

“Looks like they don’t know where Clover’s base is,” Daring whispered. “If we can sneak around them and get to the church before them, we might find them there.” 

“Should we do something about them?” Rainbow asked, jerking her head down the side tunnel, her wings flexing. 

“There’s too many of them,” Daring shook her head. “Clover’s gonna have to be on his—”

“Well, looky what we got here,” a voice sneered from the darkness. All three turned to see a figure emerging from the tower. The unicorn was adorned in a tattered rain jacket, from which he withdrew a rusty knife that was almost as long as his foreleg. Just barely visible through his scraggly beard was a mouth full of cracked and rotten teeth. His sunken eyes, set deep in flesh that had clearly not seen the sun in many years, gleamed with greed as they focused on Rainbow Dash. 

Seven more ponies emerged from the shadows, all of them drawing weapons ranging from spiked clubs and knives to a makeshift blunderbuss. They sneered at the trio, more than one licking their lips as they approached, surrounding the group. 

“Boy, did you wannabes take a wrong turn,” a zebra mare rasped, balancing the tip of her knife on her hoof. 

“Meat and blood, meat and blood, meat and blood,” a bone-thin pegasus chanted, ending his incantation with a high pitched giggle. 

Daring pushed Rainbow behind her with a wing, raising her pistol. “You don’t want this, old stallion,” she growled, taking aim at the bearded stallion in the rain jacket. Phillip snapped his baton open with a harsh click. 

The bearded pony just grinned. “I think we do,” he hissed, drawing a slimy black tongue over his disgusting teeth, still staring at Rainbow. “It’s been so long since we had any pussy. Especially pussy as young and fresh as her.” 

“Pussy,” the skinny pegasus leered at Rainbow in a sing-song voice. “Puss-puss-puss-pussy.” Rainbow growled in a bid to summon her bravery even as her knees trembled. 

“You can’t take all of us, suckers,” the zebra hissed, tossing her knife to herself. “There’s three of you and—” 

There was a sudden rush of wind and everypony looked up to see a gray pegasus in Royal Guard armor, a master sergeant’s chevrons and bars on his pauldrons, hovering over them. He aimed the LMG strapped to his side at the bearded unicorn, drawing back the bolt with a sharp click. 

“Mine are bigger than yours,” he grinned. 

The bandits all glanced at each other, then ran off into the darkness. 

“Nice timing, sarge,” Phillip said in relief as the Royal Guard landed. 

“The others were worried about you,” the sergeant said, reaching to the mouthpiece of his radio. “This is Sergeant Tempest. I found them.” 

A moment later, a golden portal opened up behind the Guard and a fifteen-strong squadron of Royal Guards exited, clearing the area with their weapons. The Princesses followed through a moment later, both of them in full armor; Cold Case and a detachment of police officers followed, surrounding Twilight. The young unicorn had her horn lit up to cast light before her; her face was pale and drawn, eyes darting around to check every shadow twice, but her countenance was set and determined, posture straight despite the obviously uncomfortable weight of the bulletproof vest she was wearing. Flash Sentry was sticking close to her, holding his shotgun close and adjusting the bandolier of shells that he had over his bulletproof vest. Bumblebee and two other earth ponies led the group, shrugging to adjust for the weight of the bulletproof shields upon their backs. 

“Are you two insane?” Cold Case snapped at Phillip. “Going into the Under on your own is practically suicide.” 

“Mareish Mob here,” Phillip reported, cutting off Daring’s retort, pointing to the side tunnel. “Down there, blocking the church. They have Clover, but not the gems.” 

“Then let us deal with them,” Luna nodded grimly. “Forward, quietly.” 

“Dash, stick with Twilight. If things go to shit, your job is to get her out of here,” Daring ordered Rainbow. Rainbow didn’t protest, taking up the rear of the group and sticking close to Twilight. Twilight swallowed, her mane slightly damp with sweat despite the near-freezing temperatures of the thick, stinking air, but gave Rainbow a brief smile. Daring and Phillip joined them at the rear.

They proceeded stealthily down the tunnel to behold the group still surrounding the shaking, bloodied hostage. The officers all took position in the tunnel, readying their weapons; seven of the Royal Guards formed a phalanx in front of the Princesses, who regarded the opposition with almost disdainful expressions. 

“We need to find those gems to stop this madness, and you won't stop us. You’re going to die, Clover, that much is clear,” Coin Toss was saying. “How much pain you endure before you’re sent to your maker is up to you.” 

“Okay, listen, listen,” Clover exhaled, raising his hooves. “There’s a church down there. I—” 

“Police! Drop your weapons!” Cold Case barked as the entire army raised their guns, snapping sights to targets. The phalanx of Guards all snapped their left forelegs up and pale blue energy shields blossomed from their gauntlets, blocking their charges from any harm. The mobsters whirled around in shock, frozen in disbelief for a moment before recognizing the gun barrels aimed at them. They did not drop their own guns, but did not raise them, either, glancing at one another.  

“Detective Finder, Do,” Coin Toss said, nodding at the two PIs. “Should’ve realized you were close behind.” He glanced down at Clover. “These gems that this gobdaw stole, I’m guessing they’re important if both Zugzwang and you want them.” 

“I said drop them!” Cold ordered, her horn glowing white. 

“Lower them, lads,” Coin ordered, dropping his own pistol. “Better to fight another day.” 

“I disagree,” one of the mobsters snarled, glaring at Coin with his cold black eyes. 

A knife snapped out from beneath a sleeve and slashed through the air: Red Clover fell, trying to scream through the blood that was now running down his throat. The blue unicorn fired an arc of golden energy at the ceiling of the tunnel over the Princesses’ heads. With a great cracking and rumbling, dirt started to cascade from the ceiling, rocks fracturing to rain down from above. The ponies beneath scrambled for cover, panicked yelps rising from their throats.

But the boulders were halted by gold and blue auras, thrust back into place and the dirt resealed. Celestia and Luna, faces still impassive, returned their attention to Zugzwang just in time to see him rising up into the air, surrounded by a golden shield spell, his glamour fading away. The Mareish mobsters were futilely trying to fire at him with their hexed, useless weapons. Clover was slowly rising to his hooves, a blank expression on his face as he turned and stared at the now pale and sweaty Coin; blood ran in rivulets from the traitorous unicorn’s slit throat. Three more of the mobsters were staring at their former comrades, faces blank and necks running red. 

“You followed me?!” Coin shouted at Zugzwang, his eyes darting between his foe and the undead ponies. “You played me like a fiddle!” 

“A fiddle requires skill,” Zugzwang sneered coldly at Coin Toss. “I played you like a kazoo.” He then turned to the Princesses. Weapons were raised as the hexes around them dissipated into golden sparks of light, but Celestia’s hoof signaled her entourage to not waste their ammunition. 

“Die Sonne und der Mond,” Zugzwang snarled at the Princesses from within his golden bubble. “Mein Bruder has thought long of you. We suppose daddy told you about us?” 

“Father did indeed tell us much about you, foul beast,” Luna snarled, pointing her broadsword at him. “Including how he and the other Pillars freed Stygian from your corruption!” 

Zugzwang laughed. 

No, he didn’t. Its voice rumbled out from within him, a horrible gurgling imitation of laughter that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it. 

“Things are very different now,” they snarled, the jade fox necklace glowing in aurate and emerald lights, lighting up the entire tunnel. With a long hiss of metal, he drew the Sword of Asocrac from its sheath, the black suns on the blade reflecting the magical light. “And we are overdue some revenge.” 

“Detectives, Twilight!” Celestia ordered, not taking her eyes off the abomination as she summoned her golden halberd to her side. “We will handle this beast. Go on and retrieve the gems!” 

Phillip took a breath, settling himself. He looked over at Daring: she nodded at him, mouth held in a thin, resolute line. Flash, Twilight, and Dash nodded as well, expressions mirroring each other. 

“Guards, open fire!” Celestia ordered. 

“ARMOR PIERCING!” sixteen voices roared as one. Runes on the barrels of the Royal Guards’ weapons glowed red and they opened fire as one, their bursts joined by beams of magic from the alicorns’ horns, then the officers’ weapons: the cacophony was deafening in the close quarters, the noise slamming down on the ponies’ heads. Cracks spread across Zugzwang’s shields beneath the barrage and he strained behind his barrier. The mobsters beneath him began to break off and run, pursued by their former comrades. 

A golden portal appeared before Phillip and his friends, and they leaped into it, emerging on the other side of the chaos. “Come on!” Daring shouted, waving them on. 

But as they ran down the tunnel, they heard it. A sound of flesh rending and bones cracking like dry tinder. A peal of mad laughter, then a roar of pain and triumph, all in that voice that was not a voice. Screams of terror suddenly joined the gunfire. A shadow was cast across the tunnel before them, the shape equine and yet...not.

“What the fuck is that thing?!” Trace shrieked. 

Rainbow Dash glanced back and all the color drained from her face. Her jaw dropped open as her wings failed. Her hooves barely caught her as she fell, seemingly glued to the ground. “Wha..what…” 

“Dash, come on!” Daring ordered her, grabbing her foreleg and pulling her along, being careful not to look back at the thing. Recovering herself, Rainbow ran alongside her, but it was long before her face resumed its normal color. 





They rounded the corner, and there it was: the Church of Sainted Skies. Years ago, it had been a grand cathedral constructed of red brick, with a steepled clocktower in the front and two wings extending off to the sides. Now, trapped in this underground chamber for years, it had decomposed to a skeleton of its former self. The wings had all collapsed into piles of rubble, and the tower itself was an empty shell, a massive hole where the clock mechanism had once been. It lay crooked in the ground, like an old, tired stallion. 

The entire thing sat on top of a large concrete box, partially buried beneath the dirt but sticking out at an angle: apparently, the foundations had fallen into the Under along with the church. 

The wide doorway yawned open, both of the doors having been long ripped away. Phil, Daring, Flash, Twilight, and Rainbow Dash paused before the doorways, listening for any sign of hostiles waiting within. All was quiet, save for the distant sounds of combat from further down the tunnel. Flash sent a nervous, regretful glance back down. 

“Focus on the here and now, Flash,” Phillip said sternly, pointing his flashlight within the hallway. All the light revealed was a small foyer, bare of any decoration. The interior doors and the door to the stairway up to the clocktower had been torn down as well, and the beams from their flashlights revealed an empty nave, the carpet and pews having been long removed to reveal the worn stone floor.

“Revelare anima,” Twilight murmured, and a wave of purple energy blossomed from her horn, passing ahead of her through the walls of the cathedral. Nothing happened. 

“Nopony hiding in there,” she reported. 

“Then let’s get moving,” Phillip grunted, entering. 

They passed from the nave to the main body of the cathedral. The raised sanctuary in the center of the room still had the altar atop it, covered in the dust of years. Only a few of the original furnishings remained. Most of the windows had been broken, and the windows in the rear all revealed the darkness of the dirt that had piled atop the church. Strangely, the devastation and rot that infected most of the Under seemed to have left most of the sanctuary alone, content to halt at the threshold. 

But Daring’s gaze went up, towards the ceiling. The vaulted ceilings were covered in massive frescoes, depicting important scenes from the Friendship Covenant; right above the sanctuary was the story of the Holy Mother’s appearance to Tiqvah, Chesed, and Emunah, gifting them with knowledge of magic, and the three mares preaching the word of friendship and love to the villagers of Navah. The paint had long faded, but one could still appreciate the masterful craftwork that went into every detail. Daring studied the faces of the three mares, their colors dull but still lifelike. 

“Wow,” she said, taking a moment to breathe in the ethereal beauty of the image, the masterful craft of the historical work. 

“Imagine what it looked like when the Church was still being maintained,” Twilight gasped, stars in her eyes. 

“Focus,” Phillip snapped at them, already searching the altar for any sign of the gems. “All of you, spread out. Find the gems.” 

They searched the eaves, the pillars, every remaining piece of furniture. But there was no sign of the three precious jewels that they were searching for. 

Flash looked around the room. “This doesn’t make sense,” he mused. “If this was his base, then where’s all his stuff?” 

“Good point,” Phillip muttered. He crouched down and studied the ground, angling his flashlight to examine the marks in the dust. “Twilight, tracking spell.” 

Twilight lit up her horn and glowing images of their own hoofprints appeared, glowing purple on the ground. A moment later, another trail of hoofprints, bare and light, appeared, running across the room and to the doors. They followed the trail back to what had been the south transept, a wing branching off from the choir and altar. A barred metal door blocked a dark hallway, a door that was not nearly as rusty as it should’ve been. 

“The crypt,” Flash muttered. “Of course he’s in the dark, narrow, underground space full of dead bodies.” 

“We don’t have a choice,” Daring scolded, extracting her set of lockpicks from her pocket and trotting up to the door. She knelt down at the doorway and inserted the picks into the lock. It took her a few moments of work, but the lock finally disengaged with a click. Daring grasped the door and swung it open. The creak of metal echoed across the sanctuary. She swept the narrow spiraled stone stairway with her flashlight, revealing nothing but cracking bricks and steps that had been heavily worn down by time. 

“Shall we?” she asked the others. 

Twilight gulped, her face even paler now than it ever was, but nodded resolutely. Flash stuck close by her side, gripping his shotgun tightly. Rainbow Dash grinned eagerly, eyes narrowed and ready. Phillip’s expression remained as placid as ever, but his nod was firm. 

Daring proceeded down the stairs, every step echoing off the narrow walls, the others following close behind. As they rounded the corner, Daring spotted the narrow archway that led into the crypt proper. Water dripped from somewhere ahead, a constant, rhythmic sound that echoed up to their ears. 

Daring stepped up to the entrance, but then she felt something brush against her hoof. And then she heard something whooshing down from above. 

She ducked almost too late. A long board with several long nails punched through it, each metal tip covered in feces to cause infection, swung down from above the arch on a hinge attached to the tripwire that she’d just accidentally triggered. The potentially deadly spikes narrowly missed her as the contraption slammed into the stonework. Three of the ponies behind her yelped in shock. 

“Booby traps, too?!” Rainbow Dash cried, her expression a cross between delight and disbelief. 

“This really is like a Hayana Pones adventure,” Phillip muttered, almost rolling his eyes. 

“That explains how he was able to keep ponies out of here,” Daring mused, ducking beneath the trap. 

They entered the crypt proper, a claustrophobic chamber of stone and brick. A few stone sarcophagi were placed on the floor, their stone tops long sealed shut. The metal doors of vaults lined the walls, the names belonging to the cremated remains inside having long rusted away.

“Uh…” Flash gulped, casting his eyes over the vaults and briefly chewing on his wing. “These guys aren’t going to wake up, are they?” 

“They’re too old,” Twilight reassured him as they cautiously entered the crypt. “From what I understand of the Lazarus Ritual, it requires access to the original body.” 

“Keep an eye out for other traps,” Daring warned as she walked around one of the sarcophagi. She studied the almost inch-deep layer of dust on the floor, following the tracks that were marked in the ground.

They proceeded further into the crypt, weaving through a maze-like web of narrow hallways, squeezing past more stone tombs and ducking cobwebs. A few more booby traps lined the walls—spikes on hinges and strips of nails covered in more feces hidden amidst rocks—but Daring carefully avoided them all. 

Finally, they reached the mouth of a passageway, five stone tiles wide, that led to a narrow archway. At the end of the hall, about fifteen yards away, was a small room containing four ancient sarcophaguses, a few modern boxes of ammunition and a makeshift cot with a shotgun and the remnants of an MRE lain atop the thin sheets. Glittering in the beams of their flashlights, placed atop one of the sarcophagi, were three gems: a diamond, a square emerald, and an amberstone. 

Twilight lit up her horn, extending her reach into the chamber, but the gems refused to budge. Her brow furrowed in confusion, Twilight swept a spotlight beam from her horn into the room, only for her magic to be halted by an orange barrier at the end of the hallway. 

“He has a magical barrier placed on the threshold,” she reported with a frown. “Looks like it won’t stop us from walking through it, but I can’t teleport through it, or just grab the gems.” 

“Well, that’s convenient,” Daring grumbled. 

“Does this feel like a trap to anypony else?” Rainbow asked, using her own flashlight to study the walls and floor of the passageway. There were large stains spread over the stone, all of them a suspicious rusty color and emanating the faint scent of copper, overwritten with odd scorch marks.

Daring tentatively placed a hoof forward into the room. As soon as she did, there was an earsplitting crack of thunder as a purple arc of plasma streaked across the hallway, passing so close that she felt her coat hairs being burnt off by the heat; the energy struck the wall and placed a new layer on the scorch mark next to the entrance. Looking up, Daring spotted what looked like a small curved mirror planted in the eaves of the hallway, a rough angular rune carved into the glassy surface. More mirrors were planted in the eaves of the passageway, all angled down to face the stone. 

“Shockcast glass,” Phillip scowled. "Haven't seen one of those in years." 

“Yeah,” Daring nodded, bending down. She carefully brushed aside the dust on the floor to reveal a square with an arcane symbol written in chalk, just barely legible. “Step in one of these traps, zap.” 

“I thought shockcast glass was outlawed back in 1922 after a massive civil suit from ponies who’d been injured by them,” Twilight mused. 

“Gee, a criminal who doesn’t follow the law. Shocking,” Daring rolled her eyes. She spread her wings and found that the hallway was too narrow for her to just fly down. Sighing, she crouched down and started casting her flashlight at an angle, looking for any sign of tracks. “There’s got to be a safe way past this…” 

“I can try to disarm the glasses, but it’ll take a while for each one,” Twilight offered. “Your ward might be able to block it…” 

“I’m not confident enough in that,” Daring replied. “Best to try to avoid—” 

Flash suddenly whirled around with a gasp, aiming his shotgun up at the passageway behind them. “What was that?!” he cried, his voice going up a half octave. 

“What was what?” Rainbow scoffed. “A rat, most likely, you jumpy—” 

“No,” Phillip muttered, drawing his pistol and stepping forward to place himself behind the others. “I hear it, too.” 

A moment later, the three mares heard it as well: the slow dragging of stone on stone. Then the grating creak of rusty hinges. 

And then a hissing noise like many serpents...no, like sand pouring down onto the ground. A rattling of bones, a crackling of joints and sinews. 

And then a dragging, shuffling of hooves. Getting closer. Louder. 

“Uh-oh,” Rainbow Dash muttered. 

“Can you shoot?” Flash said quickly, glancing at Rainbow. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow nodded. “I got my license a couple of months ago.” 

Flash unholstered his .38 Filly Police revolver and passed it to her. She strapped it tight to her hoof, being careful not to point it at any of the others. 

“Daring, might want to hurry,” Phillip urged. 

“Working on it,” Daring said through gritted teeth, spotting what looked like a faded out track in the ground. With a gulp, she gently placed a hoof on the middle stone. 

Nothing happened. With a sigh of relief, Daring stepped onto the small stone and started looking for the next safe spot. 

And then Flash yelped. Daring whirled around just in time to see the source of his terror. 

Four figures were shambling towards them from around the corner, and the sight made Daring’s heart momentarily freeze. All of them were barely more than skin and bones, seemingly composed of compacted ash and dust, shambling towards them. They were all composed of mismatched body parts, like a bunch of dolls that had been randomly slapped together by a blind drunkard: the lead undead had one wing lopsidedly hanging from his right side, all of his bony limbs were different sizes, and his head was hanging at an angle from his shoulders, eyeless, toothless face twisted as though in agony. All of the others were the same, worse. 

And they were shambling towards them with vengeful purpose, joints cracking loudly. 

In the span of a heartbeat, Flash’s shotgun roared out thrice, every blast pounding onto the ponies’ heads like hammers upon their skulls: their cries of pain mixed with the echoes. The shambling, haphazardly constructed golems exploded into dust that spilled onto the floor. 

Flash held the barrel on the final falling motes of dust for a few moments, then quickly started reloading, fumbling the shells that he plucked from his bandolier. 

“You said Zugzwang couldn’t revive them!” he cried at Twilight, voice still raised in terror. 

“He...he’s stronger than I thought…” a pale, sweaty Twilight muttered. 

More shuffling. More constructs approached. The dust that Flash had just blasted into powder began to swirl into the air under its own power, reforming into bones, flesh. 

“Daring, hurry!” Phillip urged, firing his revolver at the approaching corpses. Every shot turned another undead form into dust, only for it to reform moments later even as the approaching masses trampled over their comrades’ remnants. 

Daring turned around and forced herself to focus, attempting to tune out the roaring of the gunshots behind her, the crackling of Twilight’s shield. She looked back down at the stone beneath her, trying to figure out the safe spaces to step. Wherever the traps were, the markings were so faded that she could just barely see them. 

Use your head, Daring. He wouldn’t have made it complicated…

There: a gap in the second tile from the left, three rows down. She hopped onto it, sighing in relief when nothing happened. 

And there: fifth tile, two rows down. She hopped onto that one, then the middle tile one row down.

A pattern quickly emerged. Middle tile, second from left three down, fifth down two rows down, then start again. Daring proceeded with confidence down the hallway, crossing yards in moments. 

Dash suddenly cried out in pain, her voice carrying over the battle behind her. Daring whirled around in midjump to see Rainbow punching one of the zombies, knocking it into a cloud of ashes. Phillip, having run out of ammunition, was now smashing the approaching mob with his baton, while Flash brought the stock of his shotgun down again and again like a hammer. Twilight fired spell after spell into the advancing attackers, every beam disintegrating another foe, but still they came, relentless and eternally reforming, their numbers growing past a dozen. Daring caught Twilight’s eye in midair, saw the growing panic in her eyes. 

And then Daring landed and her hoof slipped. She gasped and pulled back, ducking, but one of the mirrors had already fired an arc of plasma right at her, preparing to slice her in half. It was too late to dodge—

Suddenly, a beam of purple light shot out and wrapped itself around the attacking beam of energy, wrapping it into a ball. Twilight strained under the weight of her spell, grunting in exertion, but the light around her horn never faltered. With a yell, she turned and fired the plasma in an arc in front of her as she pulled Dash, Phillip, and Flash behind her. The destructive energy passed down the hallway in a crackle and a roar. The ashes and shambling imitations of corpses that it touched turned into smoke, then vanished, leaving behind only the pungent odor of a thousand campfires. 

Daring stared at Twilight, then grinned. “You’re learning fast.” 

“Spur of the moment,” Twilight managed to smile back, looking tired. “I had to save you, and saw an opportunity to get rid of those monsters at the same time.” 

“That was awesome!” Rainbow cheered, slapping Twilight on the back. 

“Daring, quick,” Phillip said, taking the opportunity to reload. 

Daring proceeded down the hallway, hopping past every trap until she finally reached the threshold at the end. She stretched a hoof forward and was relieved to find that the barrier did not prevent her entry. She jumped into the tomb (casting a nervous glance over the sarcophagi, which fortunately remained closed), then snatched up the three gems on the stone lid, placing them into her pocket. She quickly hopped her way back to the others, smiling in relief when she saw that the ashes were no longer reforming into attackers. 

“Got ‘em,” she declared. “Now let’s get out of here before we have to outrun a rock or someth—” 

Hoofsteps rounding the corner. Flash whipped the shotgun up with a cry of terror. 

“Friendly! Watch where you’re pointing that!” Prowl snapped, ducking beneath his aim. 

“Sorry, sarge,” Flash apologized, lowering his gun. “What’s happened?” 

“Glad you’re all okay,” Prowl said, panting as she approached. She winced and briefly clutched her side, where scorch marks clung to her bulletproof vest. “Zugzwang and Coin Toss have both retreated. Did you get what you need?” 

Daring held up the three gems. 

“Good,” Prowl nodded. “We need you back with the others. We have to end this now.”