//------------------------------//
// 05: Runaways 
// Story: The Rejects 
// by Argonaut44 
//------------------------------//

Stained glass sunlight welcomed the ensemble of soldiers marching in step. Armed to the tooth with spears, shields, and swords, they were ready for war. 
Three stood at the helm before the throne, their eyes all cast down at the spotless marble floor. 
The first, Redshift, was a mare, a unicorn, dark velvet in color with a bright magenta mane cut short on the sides. Her eyes were green, and sharp like a serpent’s.
The second, Hawkbit, was a pegasus stallion, with a movie-star handsome face, short combed bark-colored hair, and a slim jaw. 
And the third, Snowfall Glitter, was another unicorn mare, frost white with icy blue eyes and a curly pale blonde mane. 
They were three of the Nine, Twilight's own elite unit of hand-picked guards.
“Your highness,” Snowfall began. Two rows of guards stood at attention behind her, stretching back to those mighty oak doors.  
Twilight’s eyes faded between the bleeding light echoing across pillars.
There were ghosts there, she could see, resembling the unfortunate dead, the victims of her betrayal. They surrounded her, with silent, merciless eyes.  
Pleading, begging, weeping, but none could utter a word. 
And she could hear a voice belonging to Starlight, a hollow echo repeating the same words over and over.
Please don't do this.
Twilight winced, as panic began to set in.

She rarely left the castle these days. And though she would much prefer to wallow in isolation or distract herself with a book, she was instead being treated to an unprompted military parade. 
“Lieutenant,” Twilight replied, coldly. She did not lift her head from its rest, nor did she even spare a menial glance of acknowledgement. 
Snowfall cleared her throat. She brushed a blonde lock away from her eye with a shaky hoof.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, your highness. Secretary Archangel notified command of the incident up north, he assumed you would have orders,” Snowfall said, hoping she wasn’t wrong. 
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
Snowfall hesitated.
“Hellhatch, your highness,” Snowfall elaborated; Twilight sat up suddenly. 
“Starlight Glimmer,” Hawkbit continued with a disinterested grunt, “Sunset Shimmer, a few other civilian accomplices. They escaped during a riot, killed some guards, and burned half the place down to the ground.”
Twilight felt nauseous. 
	“The scouts reported they were heading south, to the Crystal Empire…” Redshift said.
“That is...unsettling news,” Twilight said, her voice trembling slightly. Of course Sunset and Starlight would have worked together, why had she not considered that? “...I want you to contact the personnel registrar. Starlight Glimmer, Sunset Shimmer, and anypony who aided them are to be designated national fugitives. The Intelligence Agency has considered they may have played a role in the Ponyville murders. If they're on the loose, ponies' lives may be at risk. "
Snowfall’s eyes widened. 
“Your highness, this all must be some sort of a mistake," she said, half-laughing in disbelief, "Starlight would never-” 
“I was not asking for your thoughts on the matter,” Twilight scolded.
	Snowfall shut her mouth. She bowed her head and kept it there, holding her tongue. 
“I want Starlight Glimmer to be found and brought in. Alive, if manageable. The others as well,” Twilight struggled to say. She knew she could not do it herself if it had to be done; she could not look into those eyes and see the light of a friend fade into that pale void. 
“Begin in the Crystal Empire," Twilight continued, "Attempt to intercept them. I trust you all to handle them as need be.”
"Can't the Crystal Army handle this?" Hawkbit yawned.
"Starlight and Sunset will undoubtedly prove too much for them," Twilight said, "I need you three to take care of this."
“But, your highness, what if she’s innocent?” Snowfall asked, lifting her head back up. 
“Does it matter?” Hawkbit muttered, passively. 
“It it comes to violence, ponies might get hurt for no good reason,” Snowfall said. 
"Last time I checked, your job is to do as I command," Twilight said, "Not to question me. Or am I mistaken?"
"No, of course not, your highness, of course I'll obey. I only-" Snowfall attempted.
"You know your orders," Twilight interrupted, "Do not fail me."
Snowfall held her tongue before she could protest again. Redshift was glaring at her. 
“As you wish, your highness,” Snowfall replied.
Twilight kept herself composed still, despite her heart beating like a drum; she was at risk of compromise, as long as Starlight drew breath. Her path was narrow, and for these obstacles that impeded her ambitions, she feared how drastic her retaliation would have to be. Was that all Starlight was to her now? An obstacle? There was no other choice, she told herself. Starlight would never understand, never believe what she had to say. Twilight cursed herself. She could not waste time indulging foolish hopes of reconciliation. The die was long cast. And consorting with Sunset Shimmer just about sealed the deal. Old friendships were now worth little. The second Starlight had caught sight of the blood, her fate was made certain. Twilight only wished she had the strength to accept that horrible truth. She was closer to a sister, once. But no matter the past, the new result was clear.  
Redshift bowed her head and led the entire company of soldiers out from the throne room. A sinister smirk held itself taut on her face; blood would be spilt today. 





Waltzing between two marble doorposts, Blondie’s nerves were getting the better of him. 
He blended in well with the other Black Hoof enforcers; a sharp tailored jet-black suit and shirt, and a tie to match. He was one of them, or at least he appeared to be, if the police were to be concerned.
“Oh, fantastic, the bushrat’s here. C’mere, Blondie, take a gander. You’ll be interested in this one,” said Crozer, lounging back into his leather chair. This was his office, which was far more of a spectacle than the rest of the downtrodden Den. 
The office, sat atop a crimson carpet, held great stone columns, featured priceless works of art, and boasted of high tech screens mounted to the walls. In the far end and sides, tall windows bore moonlight that flooded the room.  
Blondie glanced over at Salt Shaker, who had been waiting inside. The giant seemed uncertain what this meeting was all about. There were other Black Hoof cronies in the room, all with sickly, twisted grins on their faces. 
“Are you deaf? Dumb? Both? I said c’mere,” Crozer snarled. 
Blondie followed the command, dragging his hooves on the carpet. 
“Anvil. Show him,” Crozer ordered. 
Anvil, who was stationed beside Crozer at his desk, flipped a few switches on a remote control, and a television mounted to the side wall suddenly came to life. 
It was Brandy, the girl who had pulled Blondie into this mess all those weeks ago. She had a cotton cloth stuffed in her mouth, and her cerulean dress was half-torn. 
Blondie frantically glanced at Salt Shaker, who could provide no relief. 
“The Underground sent us these pictures today. They get worse the farther you go. Giving her a rough bout alright,” Crozer cackled, “Serves her right, is what I say. She ran away.”	
Blondie flinched, and swiveled to face Crozer, glaring with blood-red eyes. Anvil stepped in front of him, and smirked; he would love another turn at beating Blondie into pulp. 
Anvil towered over Blondie, who was by no means short; from afar, Salt Shaker took a step forward. 
“Down, boy,” Anvil said. 
"A real bunch of tough guys. The girl is the one taking the heat, while you're sitting here with cold hooves," Blondie said, sticking a cigarette in his mouth, "This pony, Trench, and the Underground, they've got the girl, they've got the Canterlot folks protecting them, you told me so. And here you are, with nothing."
Crozer’s laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. 
“I could have you dead in a ditch, anytime, and nobody would give a damn. Except me, only because I’d miss the daily entertainment of you trying your hardest to act tough. You’ve got nothing on me. Nothing on nobody. I own you.”
Blondie glanced back at Brandy on the screen, her face bruised and bloodied.
Crozer bore his toothy grin once again. 
“Oh, right. Forgive my memory. Blondie wants to save his damsel in distress. Let me put it another way, then. The only reason they haven’t killed her yet, is because they need this…”
	Crozer glanced over to the other side of the room, where two guards were stationed near a large grey safe.  
“Yes...Inside there, that briefcase is your insurance that she lives. You do as I say, and when we get her back, I may let you see her one last time before I chop her up and send her to the deli,” Crozer said, bursting into laughter. Anvil, and the other Black Hoof cronies too, all followed his example. Salt Shaker remained silent.
"You're losing the race," Blondie chirped, glancing between Anvil and Crozer, "I can see you're not taking it well."
Crozer's smile faded. He rose from his chair, approaching Blondie with a terrifying scowl.
"One of these days my boys will steal back that broad," Crozer snarled, "And when they do, I'll make sure she knows I might've let her live, if her little loverboy had only taken that stick out of his ass."
Crozer spat at Blondie's hooves and turned back around. 
“Now run along. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ll let you know what those Underground bastards are doing to her. Wouldn’t want to miss any details,” Crozer said.
Blondie scoffed and stormed towards the exit, while Crozer and his subordinates all broke down into laughter like a flock of seagulls. 



	

“Blondie.”
Halfway down the hallway towards the elevator, Salt Shaker caught up to him.
“You’ve got to learn to keep a cool head.”
“Bother somepony else.”
“You’re only lucky he thinks you're a riot,” Salt Shaker said, right as Blondie slammed the elevator button. 
“You keep reminding me. I'm lucky I’m alive," Blondie supposed.
“No such thing as luck, that's what I believe.”
The elevator buzzed, and the doors swung open.
Blondie checked over his shoulder and pulled Salt Shaker in after him.
Once the doors were closed, and the elevator began to descend, Blondie sporadically turned to face Salt Shaker. 
“Salt."
"Blondie."
"I think I've gotten tired of running penny jobs for that lowlife. And I'd wager you must be too." 
Salt Shaker chuckled. 
“You want to kill him?”
“I want a lot of things. Killing would suffice.”
Salt Shaker only shook his head, but Blondie was persistent. 
“They're going to kill that girl soon enough, if somepony doesn't do something," Blondie said. 
“The Underground needs her alive to open the case.”
“This stake won’t last forever. Someone will get bored soon enough.”
“With all those bits on the line? I think not. Everypony wants that blasted case, no matter what they've got to give up. The longer we wait, the more the bid rises. But nobody can sell the damn thing before we figure out to open it.”
“She’s dead either way. You heard him, he’ll kill her as soon as he’s finished opening the case.”
Salt Shaker raised an eyebrow, hesitant to admit Brandy was doomed regardless. 
“We could end all of this,” Blondie insisted.
“And how do you plan on doing that?” 
Blondie’s devious smirk intensified, right as the elevator dinged to a stop. 
“We’re stealing that briefcase.”





Rust skies and odorous trails of oil, sewage, and scrum washed over the runoff-drowned streets of Manehattan. And there, amidst the dull dying greys of rotten buildings and shadowy courts, there stood three distinct splashes of color, each carrying a name to boost. 
“Rainbow, don’t you think this has gone too far already? We’re not exactly cut out for this,” Fluttershy grumbled, kicking an aluminum can three meters across the weed-ridden sidewalk..
Rainbow, who had her head lowered towards the shadows of an overpass bridge adjacent to the quiet fern-laden street, had spoken little since their failed confrontation with that tobacco-chewing stallion. 
“They’re hiding something. I know it,” Rainbow muttered. 
“Rainbow Dash...Those ponies have weapons...Even if it is them, what makes you think we could stand a chance by ourselves? Why not tell Twilight first?” Fluttershy suggested.
Rainbow scoffed.  
“Because I don’t trust Twilight, alright?” 
Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie could not bring themselves to speak, too taken aback by Rainbow’s implication. 
“Don’t act like I’m being crazy. We all saw how she was acting. There was something different about her, and we all noticed,” Rainbow said, spinning around to face the others. 
“Uh, Rainbow...What are you saying?” Pinkie asked, confused.
Rainbow shook her head.
“Forget it. Not worth it anyways. Look, what matters is that we have a possible lead here, and we’ve just got to stick with it. Pinkie Pie! Rutherford was your friend, right?”
“Rainbow,” Fluttershy interjected, alarmed by Rainbow’s insensitivity.  
Pinkie meekly lowered her head, and shut her eyes tight, as if to block out any tears from escaping. 
“He would’ve wanted you to make this right," Rainbow said, "Equestria needs us to make this right. We’ve never given up on doing the right thing. Do you really want this to be the start?”
Fluttershy sighed, struggling to admit Rainbow was rather persuasive. 
Fluttershy glanced at Pinkie, and the two of them reluctantly nodded, to Rainbow’s relief. 
“...What’s your plan?” Fluttershy asked.
“That guy knows more than he let on, I’m sure of it. This time we’ll know what to expect.” Rainbow said. 
“He won’t help us,” Fluttershy pointed out. 
“He’ll come around,” Rainbow said, and her confidence put Fluttershy at ease. 
Still, the risks made her uneasy. 
“This could all be for nothing,” Fluttershy said. 
Rainbow smirked. 
“Then let's take that chance.”
    




Shivering from head to hoof, Sunset Shimmer beat the trembling ceiling hatch shut, not before the howling wind could blow a mouthful of fresh snow over her face. 
“For the love of-” Sunset muttered, wiping herself off before collapsing down onto the floor.
The interior of the carriage was crammed with dusty droves of literature. A single dim lamp was all that shed light.
Lightning Dust had been unconscious for hours now, lying face down in a puddle of dried blood. Wallflower was not faring much better, a blackened bullet-wound weeping blood from the tip of her calf. 
Suri, annoyed by Wallflower’s groaning, had decided to take a much-needed nap, though the bumpy ride made that difficult. 
“The blizzard’s gotten worse,” Sunset reported, "Just our luck."
Wallflower sighed; despite their successful escape, she still felt trapped. 
“Hey. I never said thanks, for coming back for me. That took guts,” Sunset said. 
Wallflower nodded, appreciating Sunset’s gesture. 
“She’s not looking good,” Wallflower said, glancing at Lightning.
Sunset agreed; Lightning’s skin was pale, and her wings were revoltingly contorted.  
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Wallflower said.
Sunset shook her head. 
“No hospitals. Too dangerous.”
“We have to. She'll die!” Wallflower exclaimed. 
Sunset bit her lip, considering her options. 
“If it’s her or all of us...” Sunset began.
Wallflower scoffed.
“Starlight won’t let that happen.”
Sunset tilted her head to the side. 
“Starlight’s not going to be the reason I end up back behind bars.”
Wallflower gulped. 
Sheepishly, she retreated back to the ground to lie down, while Sunset turned away in anger. 
At the helm of the carriage, Starlight and Trixie, cursed with good health, were running low on energy by the time the blizzard finally weakened. Gasping for breath and breaking off icicles of sweat, the two of them finally collapsed around the same time in a heap of powdery snow. 
Inside, Sunset first believed them to be under attack.
‘They caught up to us!’
She shook Suri alert and dashed towards the back doors, swinging them open and illuminating her horn.
But there was nopony in sight.
“Trixie!” Sunset yelled, jumping off of the carriage and marching through the snow to the foreside. 
She found both keeled over, panting like a pair of marathoners. 
Sunset moved to help them up, until Starlight weakly raised a hoof into the air, pointing forwards. Sunset followed the trail, but saw nothing beyond the frozen wasteland.
Then she saw it; there was a shimmering star twinkling from the horizon, no, not a star. 
A city. 
A smile scratched its way across Sunset’s face. 
“You two head inside. Suri and I will take over,” Sunset offered.
Starlight and Trixie, who had both been dragging that carriage for nearly an entire day, gave great sighs of relief; they had been waiting for Sunset to say that.
“Is it safe?” Trixie asked, after following Starlight inside to join Wallflower and the unconscious Lightning Dust, “To go back, I mean? Starlight...Twilight’ll try to find us. She’ll…” Trixie said, recalling what horrors she had witnessed Twilight to be capable of.
Starlight wiped some sweat from her brow, and glanced into the dim light of the overhead lamp.
“We never had a choice, Trixie. It’s us against her now, there’s no other way it can be.”
“We never should have left! What can we do?!” Trixie wailed. 
Starlight shook her head. 
“We’re going to finish what she started,” Starlight muttered.





Fixed to her desk in her palace solar, Twilight Sparkle had just finished a letter addressed to the Lavender, the Lady of Silkwood, when she received the knock at the door. Twilight frowned. She was not expecting visitors. Not at this hour.
She finished her signature and set the letter aside, taking care to roll it up and seal it with a generous dollop of purple wax, pressed with her royal insignia. 
The candles shivered when Twilight trotted past, arriving at the door with a sigh of exhaustion.
She found Spike on the other side, hovering in the air, batting his tired wings. 
"Spike, do you know how late it is? What do you-...." Twilight said, before she noticed Spike had not come alone.
Behind him, trotting out from the shadowy corridor, came a familiar face, wearing a pair of bifocals and a deep red long-tail coat.
"Ms. Mayor," Twilight said, hesitantly.
"Forgive me for the late hour, your highness," Mayor Mare said, "I need to speak with you."
"...Spike, that would be all," Twilight said, before turning to the two guards posted at her door, "Prickly, Wick, you're dismissed for the night."
The two guards shared a puzzled look, while Spike lingered on for a bit, eyeing the mayor with a certain skepticism.
"Twilight, shouldn't I-"
"Spike. I'll be quite alright," Twilight said.
Twilight allowed the mayor to enter, and waited until Spike had finally flew off, along with the guards.
She shut the door behind her, gently, before Mayor Mare could let out a gasp of relief.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Twilight roared, "What madness brought you here? I told you to stay in Ponyville!"
"I know," Mayor Mare stammered, "But I have news. I would have sent a letter, or a raven, or a spell, but I'm fairly certain my residence is being closely monitored. I had to come myself. I plan to return before the sun rises, this won't take long."
Twilight quickly calmed herself down, rubbing at her eyes.
"Alias suspects you. Why?" Twilight demanded.
"Proximity, no doubt," Mayor Mare replied, "I've done nothing to draw attention to myself, I assure you."
"Until tonight. What news have you brought?" Twilight asked.
"There was an incident in Ponyville the other day. A stranger came into town. A pegasus, covered in surgical wounds. One of Apple Bloom's companions brought him to us, believing he was responsible for what happened."
"What made her think that?" Twilight asked, "And was this Scootaloo or Sweetie Belle?"
"Scootaloo. That's her name. Everypony is quite anxious in town, they're desperate to find the culprit. She made a childish presumption, an unfounded one, but she did provide us an unexpected opportunity."
Twilight eyed her, unsure what she was getting at.
"Nurse Redheart examined him. He's some sort of anomaly. A pegasus infused with concentrated magical extract. Whatever powers he has, they appear to be dormant, and he's unaware of what he is," Mayor Mare said.
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
"One of Alias' guinea pigs, no doubt."
"It's my belief that he would make for the perfect sacrificial lamb you've been seeking, your highness. Somepony to take the fall for everything. He seems to have no friends, no family, and little recollection of who he is and where he came from. He's ideal."
Twilight paused to consider.
"Is he still in your custody?" 
"....No, he escaped to the Everfree Forest."
Twilight laughed in disbelief.
"I can't exactly offer him as a scapegoat if he's missing, can I?"
"We're doing all we can to find him. Give me one week," Mayor Mare said.
Twilight sighed.
"Very well. See that this creature is found and taken into custody," Twilight said, "I have a task for you, as well."
Mayor Mare's ears perked up. 
"How may I be of service?" 
"I'm planning to send emissaries to the dragons, to keep their tempers under control. I want you to accompany them," Twilight said.
Mayor Mare hesitated.
"Into the Badlands?" she said, turning pale, "Twilight. Surely I would be of better use in Ponyville, I have-"
"You will be the instrument by which we make peace with the dragons. Deliver this message to Cinder, and her alone," Twilight said, levitating a letter from her desk over to Mayor Mare, "Make them into our allies. Inform them that we have found our likely culprits, Starlight Glimmer and Sunset Shimmer. And this creature you've found, offer him to them as well."
"I....Yes, your highness. I'll do it."
"The emissaries will pass through Ponyville on their way south. You'll join them then. Until then, remain in Ponyville, and find this hybrid pegasus before he causes any complications."
"Yes, your highness. I'll find him."
Mayor Mare promptly left the solar, leaving Twilight to settle back down into her chair.
The sacrificial lamb, that's what the mayor had said. Twilight sighed. She knew it had to be done. Whether it be Alias' runaway project, or Mayor Mare herself, somepony would eventually have to pay for Twilight's crimes. Or perhaps none of them will do. Twilight flinched. The wisest choice was also the cruelest. Her own friends, her own pupils. The ponies she raised up only to cast away to a living hell. Twilight laughed to herself. She hoped Mayor Mare could locate this hybrid pegasus creature, if only to spare Starlight and Sunset the burden of her treachery. 





The glistening spires of the Crystal Empire were like the gates to paradise, Sunset saw, and just to see the faces of ordinary ponies, living simple lives, returned some of the warmth she had lost.
Sunset, alongside all of her companions, had long ditched their orange jumpsuits in the snow. They would have blended in perfectly, if not for the fact they appeared as though they had just come back from war. 
“Where are you taking us?” Suri muttered, having been following Sunset’s lead. 
Sunset waited to answer until they were free from any potential eavesdropping pedestrians. 
“...I don’t have many friends up here. But the ones I've got, I trust.”


At the east edge of the city, in a more suburban neighborhood baking in a stray spot of sunlight, Sunset led the carriage to a quaint house guarded by a blank picket fence. 
“Go get the others. Don’t make much noise. I’ll handle the formalities," Sunset said.
“If that’s the case, we should be terrified,” Suri snickered, before trotting off to the carriage rear. 
Sunset approached the front door and planted three square knocks at its center. 
He better be home.
Seconds rolled by.
The door opened at last, albeit painfully slow. 
“I pray my eyes deceive me,” came a stallion’s deep voice from the other side of the cracked door. 
“It’s nice to see you too,” Sunset said, right as the others all sauntered over behind her. 
The stallion threw the door open, revealing his scratchy beard and his twitching yellow eyes. 
“I’ve got a job for you.”
The stallion flinched.





“Help me clear all this off,” the stallion said, brushing off his workbench table of its clutter. Glasses, beakers, marked-tubes of rare diseases, all came raining towards the ground, some shattering into pieces. 
“Oh, dear. Which one?” he asked, his eyes darting sporadically between each of the mares’ troubled faces. 
“Surely the one who looks to be dead already,” he continued, glancing at Lightning,  “Is she dead? Good heavens. She must be. This isn’t a morgue, you know.”
“She’s not dead," Sunset said, "But she’s lost a lot of blood. We need you to patch her up, Doc. And quickly."
“Patch her up. Certainly! To think, a pony of my talents! Wasted on illicit walk-ins and stitch-jobs.”
“Quit whining. Do it,” Sunset commanded. 
The doctor growled at her and reached over to help set Lightning down on the workbench. 
“Um...are you a real doctor?” Trixie asked, after taking a look around the rusty saws and blood-stained knives that adorned the stallion’s workroom. 
“Licensed in four territories. They call me Heartburn,” the doctor said, extending his hoof to a frazzled Trixie.
“Charmed,” she said, tilting her head with a sarcastic grin. 
“Hand me that linen, would you? I’d rather not get this pony’s blood on my floor, I’ve no idea where she’s been!”
Wallflower obliged to his request, reaching for a folded white sheet resting on his couch in the adjacent living room.
“I don’t even want to know what you’ve been up to, Sunset. All I ask is that you don’t make it a habit of showing up on my door with half-dead ponies waiting to be revived!” he exclaimed, as he rubbed the two ends of a handy defibrillator against each other. 
“Her heart’s stopped?!” Wallflower said, horrified. 
“It’s been stopped for, dare it seems, twenty minutes?”
“Twenty minutes!” Suri repeated, shocked. 
“Oh, Celestia,” Starlight muttered, planting her face in her hoof. 
“Can you help her?” Trixie asked.
“This will be a start,” Heartburn said, before slamming the ends of the defibrillator over top of her chest. They all waited for a reaction, only to be met by silence. He attempted it a second time.
Lightning’s body jolted, and her eyes opened suddenly. But she was still not yet awake. 
“There! She longs to live! We need something stronger...You, fetch me that jar of animuscia on that shelf,” Heartburn commanded, pointing at Trixie. 
Trixie glanced back at the bookshelf of jars and beakers, but made no attempt. 
“Today, if you’d like!”
“Which one is it?!”
“Third from the left, second row!” he bellowed. 
“Where do you find these ponies?” Heartburn muttered to Sunset, shaking his head.  
Trixie returned with a jars of some red flower petals. 
“These were grown in the depths of the forbidden jungles...They are said to have the power to heal those walking the line of life and death…”
He reached into the jar and plucked a single petal from the jar. 
“That, um, doesn’t sound very scientific,” Starlight said. 
Heartburn glared at her. 
He grabbed Lightning’s bottom jaw and opened it as far as it would go, before slipping the petal down her throat. 
Massaging her neck, he waited until her throat instinctively swallowed. 
“I feel like I shouldn’t be watching this,” Trixie muttered.
Sunset narrowed her eyes at Heartburn, who took to patiently waiting.  
“Doc, are you sure this is going to-”
Lightning suddenly sprang up from the bench, screaming, gasping for breath as the light returned to her eyes. 
She was terrified, struggling to avoid collapsing back down out of shock. Starlight stood at her side, grabbing onto her hoof and squeezing tight. 
“Lightning! Can you hear me? Are you OK?” Starlight asked.
Lightning did not answer right away, and when she did it was only a series of frantic nodding. She found Starlight's eyes, and seemed relieved. Her breathing began to slow down, and she lay back down on the table, exhausted. 
“Allow me to help with those cuts, you’ve lost a great deal of blood, my dear,” Heartburn said. 
Lightning was far too terrified to protest the strange stallion’s suggestion, nor even question who he was or where they were.
“Stay still, young lady,” he ordered, after roughly slamming her back against the workbench. He examined Lightning’s poor wings, which were torn and bent in all the wrong ways. Lightning writhed silently on the bench while he prodded at her.
"What happened?" Lightning squeaked, "Starlight? Where are we?"
"It's OK," Starlight said, tugging on the pegasus' hoof, "We're all here, you're OK. See?"
Lightning felt like throwing up, struggling to keep from blacking out again. She saw Suri and Trixie, Sunset and Wallflower, all standing over her, shocked to see her breathing.
"We made it," Lightning realized, smiling ear to ear, "We made it! Alright!"
Lightning laughed and laughed, amazed with her own survival. Sunset couldn't help but smile along with her, laughing in an effort to hide her fear that Lightning was not going to wake up. Wallflower was too anxious to laugh, and Suri was far too disgusted by the smell of blood to join in.
“Her wings will require surgery if she is to fly again,” Heartburn said.
Lightning’s heart sank.  
“Surgery?” Starlight repeated, concerned, “Do you have anesthetics?” 
“Hm?” 
Heartburn flipped Lightning onto her chest, and stretched his legs. 
“Ow,” Lightning muttered. 
“Bite down on this, darling,” Heartburn ordered, sticking a leather strap between her teeth. Heartburn reached for a tray of sharp instruments, and he was wearing a malicious grin. 
“The rest of you head over there. You with the bullet wound, you stay. I’ll work on you next,” Heartburn said. 
“I owe you one, Doc,” Sunset said.
“You owe me more than that, my dear Sunset. Off with you, I can’t work with prying eyes.”
Sunset, Starlight, Trixie, and Suri reluctantly gave into his wish, stepping through an open door into a parlor of sorts. 
Suri immediately conquered the couch, while Starlight and Trixie sat together by the window. The door shut behind them.
"They're gonna be alright?" Trixie hoped.
"I think so," Starlight said, "...Where'd you find this guy, Sunset?"
"We'd get each other out of trouble, a long time ago," Sunset said, "We'll be safe here, for a little."
"Long enough for a nap?" Suri wondered, "You all know I must have my nap."
"How could we forget?" Starlight laughed.
Scampers the rat came scrambling out from Suri's bag, running to the door, clawing against it. 
"He wants to be with Lightning," Trixie figured.
"Bad idea. Doc gets nervous during surgery. He sees that rat of hers running around, he might just saw off the wrong body part."
Sunset discovered an old radio, fixed upon an upright table layered with stacks of records. 
She flipped the switch to turn it on, and was greeted by a newspony’s voice. She lowered the volume and pressed her ear closer.
“Catastrophe galore! ENN investigators have confirmed the rumors that the dragons have stopped all trade with the southern settlements. Twilight help those poor ponies, they won’t know what hit them! The foreign affairs delegate has refused to speak on the matter, commenting only that developments in Canterlot have prohibited any forward action…”
	Sunset glanced back at Starlight, who was staring off into space. 
“I think it’s safe to say Twilight’s little scheme stretches farther than just slaughtering some hapless politicians.”
Starlight gave a single nod, but was not in the mood for conversation.  
Sunset turned back to the radio, hoping to learn as much as she could about the Equestria, a different Equestria then the one she had left all those months ago.
"It won't take them long to hunt us down," Starlight said, "Twilight tends to be thorough."
"No kidding. Got any ideas?" Sunset said.
"Cadance help us. She's close by."
"She's Twilight's sister-in-law," Sunset reminded, "A bit of a conflict-of-interest, don't you think? And I don't know about you, but I think I'm done putting my trust in princesses."
Starlight flinched.
"What about Celestia, or Luna? They might know what's gotten into Twilight. They could help us."
Sunset suddenly stood upright, incensed by the mention of Equestria's former rulers.
"That's not going to happen."
Starlight narrowed her eyes.
"Why not?" Starlight asked, "...What do you know?"
Sunset caught her words in her throat, before assuming a new front.
"Not much. Only that Celestia's disappeared. Right off the face of the earth. Luna - she's turned into a hermit. Never leaves her mansion, not for anything, not for anypony." Sunset explained, "It's not exactly public knowledge. I'd overheard some of the prison guards talking about it, a week or two ago. The point is, we won't be getting any help."
"You think Twilight got to them too?" Starlight wondered, horrified. Celestia and Luna were both absent from the coronation, as was Cadance. Any one of them could have had a role in the murders, or perhaps even all three. The thought made her shudder. 
But Starlight knew Sunset better than to believe her at face value, and Sunset's explanation came across more like an alibi. But Starlight could say nothing, not yet. 
Sunset shrugged, before turning back to the radio.
"If they couldn't stop her, then nopony can."





"Starlight Glimmer?" Pharynx guffawed, shaking his head, "I've a hard time believing-"
"Believe what you will," Twilight said, "I'm telling you the truth."
The afternoon sun cast the Royal Council Chamber in a faded shade of gold, that glistened off the dusty bookshelves and marble. columns. Along the great table, only three of the council members were present - the changeling ambassador, King Pharynx; the hippogriff ambassador, Queen Ocean Flow, and Twilight Sparkle herself.
"Starlight was your friend," Ocean Flow said, softly. She seemed terrified to dare challenge Twilight, but she could not keep herself quiet, "What could make her..." 
Ocean Flow trailed off, allowing Pharynx to pounce back on an unsuspecting Twilight.
"You told us she was locked up in Hellhatch," Pharynx said, "How long has she been there?"
"Since she was first made a key suspect," Twilight said, "Her and Sunset Shimmer both. They're both too dangerous to keep contained anywhere but there. Only Hellhatch was secure enough to hold them."
"And that still wasn't enough?" Pharynx said, incredulously, "Now you say they've escaped!"
"They won't remain at large for long. I've sent three of my most trusted officers to retrieve them."
Pharynx growled. Nothing about this seemed to sit right with him. Then again, nothing ever really did sit well with him.
"I want you each to send an emissary to the Badlands, to inform the dragons that Starlight and Sunset are likely our culprits, and we'll be bringing them in shortly. My Defense Secretary, Archangel, and the Mayor of Ponyville will join you. Their objective is to seek out the dragons' cooperation with the investigation. This business with the embargo, it mustn't last. This is our olive branch. Offer them the ponies who took their empress' head, and perhaps their wrath will be directed at the right target. "
"Why can't we go ourselves?" Pharynx asked, "Afraid we'll join them?"
Twilight was not amused.
"All of our resources are being devoted to catching the killer. I don't have time for the dragons' unruliness, not while Starlight and Sunset are fugitives," Twilight said.
"I'll send my daughter to treat with the dragons," Pharynx said, "I will wait in the Hive, and the next time we meet it will be you who comes to me, Twilight Sparkle, and you'll present Glimmer and Shimmer to me, in irons."
Twilight nodded her head, though she had no love for Pharynx's wanton tongue. 
"My son will go with them, Princess," Ocean Flow said. Twilight nodded again in approval.
Pharynx snorted and rose from his seat.
"Then we're agreed," he grumbled, "Never much cared for dragons. If what you say about Starlight Glimmer is true. It will be me to snip her neck. Not the dragons."
"Justice will be had, to whatever end," Twilight said.
Pharynx glared at her.
"As you say," he repeated, "To whatever end."





The door to Heartburn's living room swung open, and in staggered Lightning Dust and Wallflower, the former appearing to be half-dead. 
“Lightning, are you alright?” Starlight asked, rising from her chair. 
“Never better,” Lightning grunted, her bandaged wings stinging madly. 
Suri scooted over just slightly to allow Lightning to lay down. Wallflower, meanwhile, crumbled against the corner wall, avoiding the temptation to pick at her bandaged leg. Trixie stayed at her side, offering her some comfort. 
“They’ll live. Not as well as they could have, if they hadn’t had the misfortune of meeting you, I suspect..." Heartburn said, "And do tell me, who do I owe the pleasure?” 
“This is Starlight, Trixie, Suri," Sunset said, "And you've already met Lightning and Wallflower.”
“Lovely, lovely indeed.”
“Would you take bits to settle this? Or still only favors?” Sunset asked. 
Heartburn snickered. 
“We could settle this in other ways,” he said, taking three steps closer. 
Sunset smirked, mildly amused. 
“That ship has sailed, Doc,” she said.
Heartburn’s smile faded, and he nodded in bitter acceptance. 
“And so it has. Very well. The next time I see you, I’ll be sure to-”
But he cut himself off short, when the radio voice suddenly caught his attention. The others all followed his gaze, and Sunset could feel herself go pale. 
“Lock your doors! Batten the shutters! The Canterlot Investigative Bureau has released the names of several suspects linked to the Ponyville massacre. Starlight Glimmer, Sunset Shimmer, Trixie Lulamoon, Lightning Dust, and Suri Polomare. Public enemies! Beware! Report if seen!”
	Heartburn’s eyes turned back to Sunset, whose horn had already begun to glow. 
“Heartburn...Don’t do anything you might regret," Sunset warned.
“It seems as though I already have,” he replied, “...Fugitives...That would explain the mess.” 
Sunset dimmed her horn. 
“We won’t tell anypony you helped us," Sunset said.
“It’s too late. I know the types they’ll send," Heartburn sighed, "They’ll find you, and first they’ll find me.”
“We’ll deny it,” Starlight assured.
“They could be upon us any second,” Heartburn muttered, glancing towards the window, “You must be gone from here. Quickly."
Sunset sighed, but agreed to his request. 
“Come on, everypony,” Sunset said, waiting for the others to all stand up. Lightning and Wallflower both still required help. 
“They mispronounced my name,” Suri whined, stumbling out of the house. 
“Wait! Sunset…” Heartburn cried, right before Sunset could follow the others out towards the front door.
“Right here,” Heartburn said, pointing towards a spot near his shoulder, “We’ll say you coerced me.”
Sunset nodded. 
Her horn began to glow. 
Heartburn braced himself, though was still not ready at all when Sunset fired a beam of magic directly through his shoulder, searing a hole in his flesh. 
“Lovely. Oh! Lovely!” he groaned in agony, “Now, ah! Off with you! And you o-ought to leave this city if you have any sense!” 
“Thanks for the help!” Sunset yelled with a farewell wave, right before running out the door towards the carriage.
“Oh, anytime,” Heartburn mumbled, before collapsing beside his workbench. 





"You've got a great appetite, for a dead pony.”
Salt Shaker was sitting across from Blondie in a small café by the streetside window. Auburn cloth held small wax candles that shuddered with each breeze of the swinging revolving door. 
“You’re quieter than usual,” Salt Shaker continued, jovially. By now, he was quite used to talking to his brick wall of a companion, "It's breakfast for lunch. You love breakfast for lunch.
“We know where he keeps the case. All we've got to do is steal that safe, or blow it open somehow. That’s our only shot.”
Salt Shaker smiled, amused by Blondie's persistence. 
“Last I checked, there are only two of us. The Black Hoof has an army at its disposal, my friend.”
“Unless we have the element of surprise,” Blondie said. 
“Element of-....Excuse me,” Salt Shaker said, clearing his throat and glaring at Blondie’s hooves planted emphatically on the tablecloth. Blondie retracted them instantly, punctuated with an eye-roll. 
“Element of surprise? I think not. There are far too many guards stationed there, by the time you reach his office he’ll have already escaped.”
“You’re rather obstinate for an accomplice.”
“Well, someone has to offer some intelligent thought to the discussion,” Salt Shaker said, snidely. 
“Then maybe we could help.”
Blondie and Salt Shaker lifted their heads to see three familiar faces pop out from around a corner of their booth. 
"You?"
Blondie was a hair away from tossing the table, while Salt Shaker instinctively reached for his knife. 
Rainbow raised her hoof up. 
“Hey, we just want to talk. Go on, make room.”
Blondie glanced at Salt Shaker.
“...I suppose I’m not one to mind a mare's company,” Salt Shaker said, sliding the knife back into its sheath, and scooting down the booth. Blondie bitterly did the same. 
Pinkie and Fluttershy sat beside Blondie, while Rainbow sat beside Salt Shaker, who was so large he took up two seats. 
“Who the hell are you ponies? And how did you find us?” Blondie asked. 
“Covered the whole city in no time at all. Still took longer than I’d have liked,” Rainbow explained. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie remained silent.
“What do you want, birdie?” Salt Shaker asked. 
Rainbow glanced to the side, and leaned in towards Blondie. 
“The ponies you work for would be a nice start,” Rainbow inquired. 
Blondie glanced at Salt, suspiciously. 
“What are they after? What do they want?” she asked. 
“I wouldn’t fret over their intentions quite yet. Our dear Blondie will have their heads on spikes soon enough, or so he thinks,” Salt Shaker said, purposefully being vague.
Rainbow glanced at Blondie, confused.  
“They're no friends of ours,” Blondie explained. 
“Really…” Rainbow muttered, glancing at Pinkie and Fluttershy. 
“You want them dead?” Blondie wondered. 
“Just answers.”
“Then we're your best bet. We can get you to their leader," Blondie said, "Whatever crime you think he’s done, he’s done it twice.”
“All I needed to hear,” Rainbow said, nodding towards the others with a triumphant glow. 
“I can take you to him. In exchange for your help getting through the army he’s got. It’s a mutual gain.”
“...Loud and clear,” Rainbow said, nodding again, “How do we get inside?” 
“I know a guy who can help us. Is anypony afraid of heights?” he asked. 
The others shook their heads. 
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Salt Shaker asked. Blondie ignored him.  
“We’ve got a deal?” Blondie said, turning his whole body towards Rainbow, who just then began to notice that enticing shimmer in those emerald eyes. 
“OK. We’re in cahoots. That old bastard is finally getting what's coming for him."
Blondie smiled, and the two even shook on it.
Salt Shaker could not help but be impressed. 
“Maybe I should’ve been letting you do the negotiations after all,” he muttered. 
Blondie’s grinned, the first time Salt had seen him do so. They had their chance.





In billows of leaf-swallowing swirls, through the ruby red autumn trees, Bandolier’s canteen had run dry. 
“I ran out yesterday,” said Amity, noticing Bandolier shaking out the last drops.
Across some slippery rocks wading in a thin-bedded creek, Bandolier saw Flamberge, staring off between the shady ferns of a cliffside edge.
“Flamberge! What do you see?” Bandolier asked, helping Amity not to trip over the rocks.
“See for yourself,” Flamberge responded. 
Bandolier rushed over. And down below from the cliff’s edge, in a great basin, he saw it: the palace of velvet, of fair Lady Lavender’s, the target of their venture. Surrounded by scarlet trees it was, and birds’ songs and harvest colors galore.  
“After you,” Bandolier taunted. Flamberge grumbled something below his breath and sauntered towards the nearby descending dirt slope. Bandolier and Amity went the same route. 

At the shimmering palace gate, they were met by a pair of gold-plated guards. 
“State your business,” said one. 
“The Lady of Silkwood is our business. By order of Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Bandolier announced, confidently. 
“You have authentication?” the other guard inquired. 
Bandolier glanced at Flamberge, who reached into his suit pocket to retrieve some identification, on it stating his position in the royal guard. 
The guards examined it together, and were reluctantly satisfied. 
“Open the gate!”
Bandolier smiled triumphantly, though Flamberge remained a statue. 

The trio were escorted up towards the velvet towers, first through the grand hall that was adorned with glass chandeliers and rose carpets. 
“Lady Lavender is in her bedchamber, I believe. Be cautious, she may be occupied,” said the guard escort, who promptly handed them over to one of the palace servants.
“This way,” the servant said, meekly, dragging her hooves up a winding staircase. 
“You both let me do the talking for now,” Bandolier muttered to his companions. 
“I think not. Unless we want a mess of things,” Flamberge spat.
Bandolier ignored him.
Amity, meanwhile, stayed alert. She only sought to do the job and do it well. Considering her previous blunder, her reputation was on the line.
Flamberge scowled at Bandolier’s silence, stomping up the stairs, his eyes screaming murder. 

“In here,” the servant muttered, heading down a hallway and around a corridor. The lounge, lit by afternoon sunlight, a miniature fountain sat in the center of a sunken couch area, with a view of the nearby bar, library, and open bathing area. 
The four of them were taken by surprise, to catch Lavender right as she was exiting from that bath, her soaking wet mane hidden beneath a towel. 
“I wasn’t expecting visitors. You might as well come in, don’t be shy,” Lavender said, coyly, while one of her servants dried her off with another towel. 
She tossed the towel to another servant standing idly by, and slipped into a silky pink dress that had been folded neatly on a nearby table. 
Strolling along the sun, she had her eyes fixed on Bandolier, and, immediately, he could feel his face flush red. 
Amity nudged him in the side, sparing in gentleness. 
“My lady,” he coughed, approaching her with his head held high. He took her hoof and left her with a kiss, of which she could not help but be flattered by. 
“I can't say we’ve met?” Lavender said. 
“Bandolier. I’m with the Bureau.”
Lavender’s tight smile dropped in a heartbeat. 
“I see,” she said, clearing her throat, “And precisely what am I being investigated for?”
Bandolier shook his head, teasingly. 
“No, you misunderstand," Bandolier said, "We’re here for your protection.”
“Protection? From what?” she asked. 
“My lady, y'see, it's quite possible they may be after you next,” Bandolier said. 
Lavender gasped. 
“The devil who took my husband from me? Is that who you mean?”
“It would seem so,” Flamberge said, regretfully. 
Lavender spun around, storming over to face one of her many extravagant windows. 
“Of course...I feared this day would come. For some reason I felt I was safe….”
She felt smaller than ever, and her mind was running miles a minute. 
“You want to take me back with you. To the capital,” she realized. 
“Those are the orders,” Bandolier replied. 
Lavender turned to face him, sinking into his hard brown eyes. 
“I suppose I cannot refuse. But won’t you stay the night, at least?”
Bandolier hesitated, but did not turn back to consult the others. 
“...Of course.”
Lavender smiled, warmly.
“April. Fix Bandolier and his friends with some rooms for the night. We should have a feast tonight, to welcome our guests,” Lavender ordered one of the servants, “It’s been terribly lonely, these weeks without him...It’s a relief to have you join us tonight,” she continued. 
“...It would be our honor.” Bandolier said. Her smile was temptation, her voice like a serpent's jaded whisper. 
Bandolier resisted the urge to break professional courtesy, though Lavender herself was close to demanding it. 
Over Lavender’s shoulder, Bandolier glanced out the window, at the wind brushing over the trees. There was somepony out there, somepony who was coming to kill Lavender, he knew it.
And he would be ready. 





Stray branches and slippery patches of moss stuck out from the fog.
Kickstart pushed deeper through the Everfree Forest, still out of breath. He had long lost track of his sense of direction, and there was not much of a trail in sight anymore. 
The light of the sun had been stolen by the forest canopy. Chirping insects and distant cries of animals were the only reminder that he was still in the world of the living. 
He wiped his face of sweat, and sighed in exhaustion, with Ponyville now far behind him.
“Hey!”
Kickstart jumped in fright, when Scootaloo came barreling out from the brush, tripping over a root and somersaulting over onto her face. 
Spitting out a mouthful of dirt, she raised her eyes up at an unimpressed Kickstart. 
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Not you again," Kickstart sighed, "Is there something in the water at that town? You're all out of your fucking minds."
“You’re coming back with me! You won’t get away with what you did!” Scootaloo bellowed, jumping up from the dirt and trying to appear as large and imposing as possible. 
“Back? And where is that exactly?” Kickstart asked, glancing around the forest, where every direction appeared the same. 
Scootaloo soon came to the same dreadful conclusion: they were both lost. Terribly lost, in fact. 
“Uh oh,” she whispered. 
"Uh oh is right, twerp," Kickstart grunted, "Maybe I should've went along with them. Now instead I'm stuck with you."
“Stuck with me? You’re the psycho murderer, not me!” Scootaloo exclaimed. 
“Take a hint, kid. I'm not who you think I am."
Scootaloo blinked in rapid succession, baffled. 
“You’re...you’re not?”
“If I was, I’m pretty sure I’d have put you six feet under by now," he said, "Trust me, you make make it tempting.”
Scootaloo shook her head in disbelief. 
“But...I thought...you…” Scootaloo muttered to herself, at a loss. She groaned in frustration. “Great! Now we’re lost! And I’m gonna have to go back home, and everypony will think I’m an idiot for having run in here alone! Nopony ever comes back from the Everfree Forest!” 
Kickstart, who had been examining his surroundings while Scootaloo carried on, was suddenly alarmed. 
“Wait, what did you say?"
But the reply came not from Scootaloo, but instead a great grizzly roar, bellowing out from the brush behind them. 
Kickstart and Scootaloo both turned around, slowly, to come face to face with a beast of horrible sorts; it had eyes the color of fire, wiry fur and razor sharp teeth. A bear of some kind, it snarled like a demon, and its slobbering scowl made it clear the beast was not interested in making their acquaintance. 
“Get behind me,” Kickstart muttered, and he did not have to ask twice. 
Kickstart could not afford to reason out an escape plan; the beast’s eyes were beating him down into the dirt. 
“Run, go and get as far from here as you can,” Kickstart said. 
“...What about you?” Scootaloo asked. 
"This is nothing. Right? Who's scared? Not me. Don't sweat it. You should really fucking run now," Kickstart advised.
"I’m not leaving you. You could still be that monster, I can’t let you get away that easily,” Scootaloo said, despite her terror.
"I see. They're not very smart in Ponyville, if you're any indication. I'll give you a pass, because your brain's not fully developed yet," Kickstart said, earning a frown from Scootaloo, "Which is a better excuse than anything I've got."
While he was laughing at himself, the beast suddenly lunged towards them, its jaw open wide, moving in for the kill.
Kickstart spun around and picked up a shrieking Scootaloo in one motion, diving off to the right before the beast’s knife-like teeth could slam shut around him. 
Kickstart rolled over onto his side and let go of Scootaloo, who scrambled away behind a bush. 
“Fuck,” Kickstart muttered, bruised from the hard fall. 
“Look out!!” Scootaloo cried from the safety of the bush. 
The beast slashed towards Kickstart, who again rolled over to avoid its mighty claw. 
The beast moved to strike once more, until suddenly a puff of smoke overcame them. 
The smoke was like a lavender fog, engulfing the air and obscuring Kickstart’s vision. 
Then his mind felt fuzzy, and the last thing he could make out before collapsing was the shape of a cloaked figure, smirking as she approached them through the mist. 





Between wind-wound whisperings of alleyway mouths, a carriage bearing the banner Bookmark’s Emporium buckled wildly across the slick streets of the Crystal Empire.
Starlight and Trixie had taken back the helm; Sunset had volunteered to look over Lightning and Wallflower with Suri in the back compartment. 
“Just to make sure you don’t make it worse,” she had said. 
Suri noticed Sunset wince each time Wallflower or Lightning made the mildest pained grunt or groan. Suri said nothing. She was far too weary.

“Are you sure he’ll help us?” Trixie asked Starlight in the front, between gasps for breath.
“He’s our best chance,” Starlight assured. 
She could make out distant echoes of the radio broadcasts playing out of every home, every shop, everywhere a pony could listen. Her ears perked up whenever she could pick out her name being spoken. 
Twilight wants us dead.

Starlight and Trixie led the carriage down one narrow street in the south side of town, slowing her pace as the sounds of the city began to succumb to the quiet neighborhood’s grey gloom. 
Nopony was outside their house; their windows were all shut and their doors locked. It was a ghost town. 
Starlight left the carriage outside in the street, unstrapping her reins and taking off down a narrow path leading towards another street. 
“I’m not saying I don’t trust him, but…” Trixie said, after undoing her own harness and managing to catch up.
“He’ll come through for me,” Starlight said, her voice airy and taut, “I know he will.”


Together they approached the door to one house, one that wore a hat of red fire, its tall doors bore a beaming sun emblem. 
Starlight made three quick knocks on the door, which was three times her size, and waited patiently.
The silence made her nervous; was he even home? 
But, to quell her fears, the door creaked open just seconds later. Out popped the unkempt orange mane and the silver pair of glasses, behind them the bearded stallion wrapped in a star-studded cloak.
“Starlight.”
“Sunburst,” Starlight said, sticking her head closer to the crack in the door, “I need your help.”
Sunburst scoffed, and promptly shut the door. 
Trixie glanced at Starlight. 
“Told you.”
Starlight slammed her hoof against the door again.
Sunburst popped out again, his eyes maddened with terror. 
“I almost spat out my tea this morning, when I heard it was you,” Sunburst muttered, “Starlight. How could you? And what are you doing here?” 
“Look, I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I really need your help, Sunburst...My friends are hurt, and they need someplace safe to rest. Just for a day or two. I promise we won’t be trouble.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he groaned, “Do you know what the penalty is for colluding with enemies of the state?”
“Is that all I am to you now?” Starlight asked, 
Sunburst glared at her. 
The door opened, revealing Sunburst leaning against the doorpost, knock-kneed and disheveled. More than usual. 
“Luna be good, you’re a mess,” Starlight smirked. 
“Speak for yourself,” Sunburst retorted, eyeing her up and down “...Trixie,”
“Hey,” Trixie said, dryly. She had never been fond of Starlight's oldest friend. Sub-par competition, that was all he was. 
Sunburst sighed, wiping sweat from his brow as he fell into Starlight’s pleading eyes. He flinched, and lowered his head to turn about his thoughts.
“How many of you are there?”
Starlight smiled, awkwardly. 


“I’ll be arrested, surely! They’ll hang me! Not before I’m drawn and quartered! Oh! Celestia, what have I done?” Sunburst wailed, while carrying a tray of tea over to the six ponies now strewn about his living room, “I must be rid of you, quickly.” 
“Easy, Specs, we only just got here,” Sunset muttered from beside the fireplace, after finishing the last of the crumpets Sunburst had brought them earlier. 
“The police will be knocking on my door. I’m an awful liar, they’ll see right through me! It’s all gone to hell!”
“Hey,” Starlight said, softly, rising from the maroon couch she had been sitting on. She reached out to Sunburst, cupping his unshaven face in her hoof. 
“Everything’s going to be alright, OK?”
“Alright? How could you say that? You murdered-”
“Sunburst. None of us had anything to do with that. Me and Trixie saw what happened. The pony responsible had us sent away to stop us from telling anypony the truth.”
Sunburst raised an eyebrow. 
“Really. Then what is the truth?”
“You wouldn’t believe me…”
Sunburst scoffed, unconvinced. 
“You all certainly made a mess of things in Hellhatch, that’s for sure. They’re still finding new corpses in the wreckage,” Sunburst said. 
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. We never meant for there to be casualties,” Starlight said, subtly glancing towards Sunset. 
Sunset tilted her head slightly, as if she was accepting a challenge.
Sunburst left Starlight with a scowl, disappearing again into the kitchen to release more steam.
“I take it this won’t be a permanent stay,” Sunset guessed. 
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Trixie muttered, falling deeper into the cushions of the couch.
“Anypony got any friends nearby who can help us lay low?” Starlight asked. 
Sunset shook her head. 
"Not with the price on our heads. My friends don't lend well to honest favors," Sunset said.
“Wallflower?”
Wallflower, who was still clutching her bandaged leg, shook her head.
“Nopony.” she mumbled, downheartedly. 
“Who said we were even sticking together after this, huh?” Lightning interjected, “I mean, the deal was to escape. We escaped. Now we can all go our separate ways. Look, it we got along alright to get out of there, and we did it. I didn't sign on to be friends. Once my wings are working, I'm gone.”
Sunset shook her head. 
“Fly away then. See how far you get before you’re back in another jail cell. And this time when you’re locked up four miles underground, you won’t have any of our help," Sunset said, "I could've left you in the snow, instead I saved your life. Did I make a mistake?"
Lightning gritted her teeth. She hated to think she owed anypony anything. 
“Last I checked I saved you back at Hellhatch, and you know what? I could have gotten out of there by myself, anyway” Lightning insisted. 
“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe we should split up,” Sunset snarled. 
“My family's in Cloudsdale. So are all my friends, a whole lot. They’ll have my back!” Lightning said, hoping the others would believe her, “Probably better off there than hiding in some frozen alley with a bunch of losers like you.” 
Suri managed to interject before Sunset could retaliate.  
“I’d be safer in Manehattan. I may still have some connections that could last me a little while,” Suri wondered. 
“We’re not splitting up, OK?” Starlight said, raising her voice, “Look, you may not have it out for Twilight like I do. But as long as she’s still sitting on that throne, she’s a threat to all of us. She knows you were a part of the escape. She’ll want you hunted down, interrogated. For your sake and mine, none of us want that. So let’s stick it out a little longer, and keep our heads on straight.”
The others all restrained themselves from challenging Starlight, providing her with a chance to slip away to the kitchen. 

She found Sunburst bent over his kitchen counter, face down in forlorn. 
“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Starlight said.
Sunburst lifted his head. 
His fiery red hair had grown below his nose and around his cheeks, and he appeared not to have slept well for days.
“It’s been months,” Sunburst said, weakly reaching for the bottle of year-old scotch sitting idly by the knife rack. 
“I would think about you every now and then. And wonder if you were alright. And then I hear of what you’ve done...You’ve betrayed Equestria, betrayed everypony.”
“I wouldn’t have come here, if I didn’t think there was a part of you that would believe me,” Starlight said, following him around the corner, intercepting his hoof before he could pour a shot of the scotch, “You want to trust me, don’t you?”
She was inches away from his face now, and she could notice the beads of sweat slipping into his beard. 
“I wish I could.”
“Now’s no different,” Starlight said, “You’re not going to understand the things I have to do. But someday it will all make sense.”
“I sure hope so,” Sunburst replied. 
“...Before all this, when I thought my life would go in a different direction, a better direction...I imagined this. You and I.”
Sunburst’s mouth hung open in confusion. Still, he was listening. 
“I was so terrified of whether my life would be over or not...There was so much I still wanted,” Starlight said, releasing a despair-ridden laugh that welcomed the tears to pool in the corners of her eyes. “I wanted a life I could be proud of. Something to make me fight to hang on,” she said. “A family.”
Her hoof struggled to find Sunburst’s, loosely gripping the bottle of scotch. 
“Now I’m afraid I’ve lost that chance,” Starlight said, her voice wavering. “...There could never be anyone else."
Sunburst was so taken aback, he could not respond with words; he broke free of her grip and poured the two of them half-high shots, before setting the bottle down. 
“Alright then,” he said, raising his glass in the air, “To nobody else.”
Starlight smiled, and brought her glass up beside his. 
They both gulped it down.
Starlight cautiously fell through the air towards him, and he was prepared to receive her, pressing his face forwards. 
“Starlight!” Trixie cried from the other room. 
Another time, perhaps. 
Starlight’s face was strained with fear, and she had to dash back to the living room.
Sunburst followed in beside her. 
“We might be in some trouble,” Trixie said, pointing towards the window. 
Starlight, and Sunburst too, came rushing towards the window, where they were horrified to discover at least eight armored carriages surrounding their bullet-riddled bookmobile by the curb. 
“How'd they find us already?” Starlight muttered. Twilight was not pulling any punches. If Hellhatch couldn't keep her quiet, then only death could. Twilight must have thought the same thing. 
“I knew it! Oh Celestia! It’s over!” Sunburst wailed. 
“They’re coming towards us...At least twenty, there’s more hanging back,” Suri reported, nervously. Sunset pulled her back from the window and made sure all the curtains were closed.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s head out the back,” Sunset said, helping Lightning and Wallflower to their hooves. 
“Sunset, get them out of here. Me and Trixie will stay upstairs, make sure Sunburst is alright,” Starlight said.
Lightning, Wallflower, and Sunset glared at her, puzzled.
“Starlight, a-are you sure?” Wallflower asked. 
“We're not gonna leave you to get put back in chains, Glimmer,” Lightning said. 
"I'll be fine, don't worry, I'll catch up," Starlight said.
Lightning bit her lip, anxiously.
"Seriously, Glimmer! They're gonna kill you! C'mon! Let's go!" Lightning exclaimed. 
Starlight did not budge. 
"Your funeral," Sunset said, hurrying towards the kitchen backdoor with the others. Suri followed behind. Lightning and Wallflower lingered, until Starlight ushered them to follow Sunset. 
“Starlight, I can handle myself,” Sunburst said. 
“I know. But if anything were to happen…” Starlight said, trailing off. 
Sunburst nodded for them to head towards the stairs. 
“How come I have to stay?!” Trixie asked, annoyed, as she and Starlight took off for the stairs.
“It’s you and I that Twilight is really after. If we do get caught, the others may still have a chance,” Starlight said. 
“Ah. I do love to be the unwilling sacrifice," Trixie muttered, "I know I told you I'd follow you to the grave, but I didn't think you'd put me to the test!"
Starlight climbed up the stairs, dragging Trixie behind her. 
She flung open the attic hatch and teleported the both of them into its darkness. 
Trixie shuddered when a heavy knock fell upon the front door. Starlight held her by the hoof. 
“Through thick and thin,” Starlight muttered.
"Through thick and thin," Trixie replied. 
Trixie nodded, taking a deep breath.
Starlight fell against the wooden floor, and pressed her ear to its surface. The wood was thin.
The door swung open.
Sunburst wiped sweat from his face, before opening the door. 





Dancing through the turquoise, scents of sugar and spice brought him back to life. From the hard leaden winter that was brewing in the darker corners of his mind, Kickstart was bewildered to find himself in someone else’s home.
“Hey. You alright?” 
Scootaloo was perched on a wicker chair, her ears sticking up attentively. Kickstart himself was lying on a bed of wheat, by the brambles of the hut-like shelter he had been brought to. 
“There he is, at last he wakes. Next time, mustn’t make the same mistakes,” came another voice, a zebra, bejeweled in golden rings and piercings. Her appearance was unfamiliar to Kickstart, and he was both intrigued and frightened.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" he asked, as memories began to flow back over that dam of confusion, "You....You saved us?"
Zecora nodded, approaching his wounded leg with a bottle of green-colored ointment. 
"Beasts of the forests, they never sleep. No fortune here to be reaped,” she said, with a motherly smile. She soaked a cloth in the green liquid, and pressed it against Kickstart’s wound. 
Kickstart growled and tore at the blanket he was lying upon. Zecora’s hoof quieted him with a touch to the chest. He was mesmerized, enthralled in this creature, unlike anyone he had ever laid eyes on before. 
“I don't doubt it,” Kickstart said, "Which makes it a little odd why you'd want to live out here." 
Zecora glared at him. 
“And who are you to ask such a thing? It is my domain you’ve come stumbling. What brought the two of you here, I wonder? Some foolish quest? Some grave blunder?” Zecora asked. 
Kickstart shook his head. 
“It wasn't exactly an informed decision, more of a in-the-moment kind of thing,” he muttered, glancing out a small window, “At least the creatures here don't pretend to like you before they try to kill you. Out there's nothing for me.”
Zecora stood up. 
“You wish to be free. Free of the past,” she guessed, glancing down at the wounds left all over his body, “Many lose their hope. For scars that always last.”
She turned away, now facing Scootaloo.
“All of us, we are so temporary. Chase our dreams, beyond the bodies buried. Or mighty feats, yes, gold and glory. But most of us come short, be made another story. Of dark warnings and joyless ends. What can we do while we wait? We ought to live, laugh, create. Time is too short to fall into despair. Nor to others we should compare. To persevere, we all should strive. Why else be born, but be alive?”
Kickstart’s eyes were cast down towards the dirt floor of Zecora’s house. Zecora’s warm smile never left her face. 
“Rest until you are ready. Then keep on your course, and hold steady.”
Kickstart nodded as a show of thanks, and waited until Zecora had left the room before he glanced over at Scootaloo.
“...So, you never told me how you got all those....y'know,” Scootaloo asked. She still was unsure whether she could trust him, though in the meantime she thought to satisfy her curiosity. 
Kickstart sighed, and supposed she was due an explanation if she was to ever stop pestering him.
"I was your age, a little younger maybe. My home wasn't like what you had in Ponyville. We got to be near the city, but far enough that we didn't have many neighbors, and even less work. Things weren't good then," he said, and the more he focused, the more he could remember, "They got so bad I had to work too - I'd sell ice cream at the town market, made enough to help us along. But it wouldn't last. How could it? They should never have had a child, it was true, and they let me know that as much as they could. It took a small fortune to raise me, put me through school, whatever, and eventually they decided that I wasn't worth all the trouble. We were destitute, I wasn't sure if I could even blame them? They were my mom and dad, they knew best. So I didn't bat an eye when they sold me to the ponies in blackcoats. I didn't bat an eye when they stuck me with some needles and put me through examination after examination. It was only when they made me stay awake for it all, that was when I started up. I'd cry for them, for mom, for dad, for anybody to come bursting through the doors and cut me free. But nopony ever came. I watched a hundred ponies come in and out year after year. Some didn't last more than a week. I watched them hold out my own heart in front of me, and put something else in its place. And all the while they'd talk about the greater good. But I wouldn't get to be a part of it."
"So you escaped?" Scootaloo asked, "You got out, you made it!"
"I escaped once before," Kickstart said, "Back when I knew how to find the place I grew up. I went looking for them. I remember seeing them through the window of their new home. An expensive home, with a garden and a view of the mountains, and a great big field for the dogs to run around in. They had another kid. He didn't look much like me. I'm not sure if I wanted him to or not. They moved on. So I tried to, too. But the blackcoats caught me. This time things will be different. I'm not going back to that place. They can try all they like. They'll have to catch me first."





Faltering, burning, grasping at lifeless branches to save her from the lightless void, Cadance’s shrill scream echoed into sulfuric oblivion. The darkness surrounded all it could, and as she fell into that pit, an unworldly, deafening draconic roar ravaged her mind, and broke her cries into whispers.
 She awoke to sweat-stained sheets and a battery of breathless gasps. Even in dreams, dread could not part with her.
Cadance climbed out of bed, slipping out of her soaked nightdress and opening a window to take in some fresh night air. 
She stood by the balcony of her royal bedchamber, twelve stories up, overlooking the glimmering lights of the crystal city. Stormy winds from over the mountains brushed past her mane. It was cool, it was quiet, for now.
“Are you alright?”
Cadance shrieked and sprang alert.
It was only Shining Armor, stumbling into the bedroom.
“Where have you been?” Cadance asked. She had not realized he had deserted her in bed while she was asleep. 
Shining Armor lowered his head. He wasn’t one to deliver bad news. 
“Starlight Glimmer is a suspect. Five others, too,” Shining Armor revealed. 
Cadance’s jaw dropped. 
“...That can’t be. Starlight? I haven’t even heard from her in months…”
Shining raised an eyebrow. 
“But it couldn’t be her, she could never!” Cadance exclaimed. 
“They escaped from Hellhatch Penitentiary days ago. Scouts say they’re headed south. Here.”
Cadance shuddered while the wind shook her about.
“Hellhatch? Who sent her there?”
Shining Armor shrugged. 
“Twilight, maybe. Canterlot hasn’t let us in on much. Only to be ready for some trouble.”
“Are we?” Cadance asked, approaching Shining Armor by the balcony doorpost. 
“...I sent Windchill to prepare a hunting party. I left you to watch over Flurry myself, they could be after her next. Or you, or me.”
Cadance shook her head in disbelief. 
“The world is falling apart,” she muttered. 
Shining Armor reached over to hold her for a moment, beside the dying light of a mounted torch. 
“I won't tell you otherwise. You should get some rest.”
Cadance nodded, while Shining Armor slipped away from the frigid cold. 
Once Shining had left the room, Cadance returned inside and shut the balcony door.
“Starlight…” she muttered to herself. 
“But it doesn’t make any sense…”
She was at a loss, pacing in circles, trying to make sense of the accusation. 

Then something caught her eye, as if to answer her uncertainties. 
A black notebook, resting idly on her old wooden desk. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed it sooner, or, more importantly, how it got there. 
There was no writing on the cover, only solid black that intensified the mystery of its contents. 
With a cautious hoof, she reached to open the notebook. 

And, after nearly a half-hour of careful reading of the deceased griffin detective’s findings, she then felt as though her suspicions were confirmed. 
“Twilight,” she gasped, horrified. 
She shook her head, refusing to believe such an outlandish claim. Especially coming from that wily griffin. 
Though she wanted to deny the possibility, a part of her was teetering on the line of who to trust. 
It could be anybody, couldn’t it?





Glowing oil lamp gold seeped into the dark crimson woods of its surrounding. 
A palace feast had been prepared, featuring exotic flavors and precise preparations. 
Lavender’s ballroom was lit by a hundred flaming wicks of a titanic chandelier. It was made of solid gold, heavy enough to leave a crater should it fall. 
On the walls of the ballroom were paintings of great battles of old; pegasi slaying dragons, the unity of the three tribes, a painted tapestry of archaic mastercraft.

Upstairs, Flamberge and Bandolier had the misfortune of sharing a room.
“We didn't come here to socialize,” Flamberge said, while both were stepping into the tuxedos Lavender had arranged for them to wear that night. 
“She's only recently widowed, and positively upset,” Bandolier pointed out, “We're doing this to help keep her cool. We don’t want any problems heading back to Canterlot.”
“Don’t we?” Flamberge repeated, glaring at Bandolier. 
Bandolier scoffed. 
“Sergeant. I don’t need you to like me. Or respect me. But tonight, I need you to humor me.”
Flamberge, reluctantly, found himself willing to compromise. 
“And keep your wits about you. We’re not safe out here,” Bandolier said, with a paranoid glance around the room.

Bandolier and Flamberge emerged from their room in their tailored threads. Bandolier had trimmed his beard and done up his curly mud hair. Flamberge picked at his collar; he would much rather be somewhere else.
Both caught their breath, with the delightful sight of Amity Stiletto strutting out from the next-door room, snugly stuck in a cherry red dress. Its corset squeezed her waist, and the fine fabric fell just above the floor.  
“I don’t like her. But she does have taste,” Amity said, enjoying the looks on her stallion companions’ faces. 
April, the servant, arrived at the staircase to lead them below. 

Down the winding stairs, around a corner to the grand ballroom, Amity’s eyes widened at the sight of nearly a hundred ponies, all guests at Lavender’s palace. 
Bandolier recognized several attendants from his days in analysis: Upper Crust, Filthy Rich, Fancy Pants, everypony with a good few bits to their name seemed to be present. 
“They must rent out rooms here. Like a hotel,” Amity said, and she found that to be rather odd. 
“If it was me, I would mind the company,” Bandolier said. 
“Certain company,” Amity scoffed. 
Bandolier glared down at her.
“You’re daft," Amity said, putting her thoughts more bluntly, "Falling for whatever dumb trick she’s pulling on you. She’s up to something. I can feel it."
Bandolier laughed off her accusation, and shook his head. 
"Forgive me, I never asked for your approval," Bandolier muttered.
"We don't need any complications to the mission," Amity reminded, as her face turned red, "That's all I meant."
“I’m going to get a drink,” Bandolier said, breaking away from the others. 
“What happened to keeping your wits?” Flamberge asked. 
“I won’t need all of them.”
Flamberge glanced at Amity, shaking his head in frustration. 

Bandolier scooted past two well-groomed politicians to pick up a bottle of champagne sitting idly on the tablecloth-covered table of dishes. 
Then he froze, picking up on some ponies’ conversation behind him.
“Yes, but I never thought it would be so gruesome.”
“...I suppose it had to be. It seems to have had the desired effect.”
Bandolier turned to investigate, but was interrupted when Lavender caught him first.  
“...Bandolier,” she said. She wore a delicate purple dress, with pompous billowy rungs and bulbous plumes. She was immaculate, as always. 
“I’m sorry if we were delayed. We didn’t want to disappoint you,” Bandolier said. 
“Oh, believe me. You haven’t,” Lavender smirked.
Lavender grabbed him by the hoof, pulling him away from the clothed tables of food, over to the proper floor of the ballroom, where an assortment of couples were already entwined in slow-strung dancing. 
Amity and Flamberge, who were separated, both kept an eye on him, as well as the other guests floating around the ballroom. Amity had vowed never to let her guard down, not ever again. Though, a glass of champagne begged her to reconsider. 
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem to always be in a hurry,” Lavender said to Bandolier, wrapping her front legs around his neck. Bandolier held her in front of him, and she stood a whole head shorter. They swayed together, in the center of the ballroom, directly beneath the golden chandelier. 
“My boss would disagree," Bandolier smiled, "...These days I tend to be a little on edge."
"There's no shame in that," Lavender said, "I suffer a similar ailment. It feels like it's only been days, instead of weeks...Everypony expect me to have moved on already."
"You've got a great many friends to help fill the void, at least," Bandolier said, glancing around the room.
Lavender smiled, amused.
"Politicking buzzards, is all they are. Seeking a share of my husband's estate. And the interests of his fallen comrades."
"Interests in what?" Bandolier asked, supposing she meant Ember and the other victims of the Ponyville massacre.
"Not everypony in Equestria quite fancied Twilight Sparkle's ascension to the throne. I can even remember when word got out they made her a princess, there was a rightful uproar. Now she's the reigning sovereign of Equestria, you can understand she made a great list of enemies before she even laid eyes on the crown, my husband among them," Lavender said. 
"Your husband had a problem with Princess Twilight? What for?" Bandolier asked.
Lavender glanced up at him, and back to the ground, sheepishly.
"His grievances were purely political. He dismissed her early on as a petty commoner playing pretend princess, who had tricked Celestia into favoring her. Blueblood was spiteful, yes, but docile. He never made much of an effort to stand up to her, or Celestia, although he would boast a great deal to the contrary. He had half of our court believing he was some genuine gadfly, or some serious rival to Canterlot. Poor Blueblood, foolish till death."
Bandolier nodded his head, hesitantly. 
"Ponies love to convince themselves they'll change the world," Bandolier said.
"Some still do," Lavender smirked, "When Celestia retired, a great deal of ponies saw the opportunity in reclaiming the power they'd once lost. Empires that had long fallen could be restored. The Senate may grow its power. Their hopes all faded when Twilight assumed power."
Bandolier raised an eyebrow.
"I would expect the opposite. A fresh young ruler to take advantage of, ally themselves with, to exploit for every opportunity they could," he said.
Lavender smiled.
"You're brighter than you let on," Lavender said, "Some creatures were deterred. Others still had ambitions. They told themselves that Twilight could be reasoned with, perhaps. Manipulated. But Twilight Sparkle is no fool. Lesser of a fool than Celestia, I would say."
"And what if they had tried it?" Bandolier posited, "What if they had tried to make an ally of her, and claim power for themselves? What do you think Twilight Sparkle would do?"
Lavender shrugged. 
"I can only imagine," Lavender said, eyeing him, "Better to not think on it. Each of us here have grand appetites. Only, some are clever enough to know not to fly too close to the sun."
Bandolier smirked, before he caught onto her gaze, and a dreadful conclusion began to cross his mind. He quickly thought of kinder things, and a warmth returned to his face.
“I don’t want you to ever leave me, until we make it to Canterlot...Could you do that for me?” Lavender asked, her voice like a whisper. 
“Of course,” Bandolier promised. 
Lavender’s smile widened, and she sunk deeper into him. 
But Bandolier’s tender moment was soiled, when he noticed the sultry glare of another mare at the other side of the ballroom floor, partly hidden by passing couples. 
She was a stranger. Short wavy black mane that cut off near her shoulders, a dark tannish coat, and tropical green eyes. She wore a canary yellow dress that curved up over her rear. 
Then an instinct kicked in, and it took no more than half a second after the girl reached for the knife stuck in the folds of her dress, for Bandolier to realize his bliss was coming to a close. 
In a flash, the girl had drawn her knife and thrown it across the room, in a deadly, unwavering line.
But it was not Bandolier the knife was aimed at, but instead an oblivious Lavender. 
Bandolier spun Lavender away and threw her to the floor, just as the knife would’ve been stuck in her skull. 
Bandolier caught the knife by the blade in one hoof, and dropped it immediately, blood soaking off his tuxedo cuff and onto the ballroom floor below. His leg was cut, slightly. 
The assailant had not finished yet, however. Slipping out of her heels, she took off into a sprint towards Bandolier, a second knife already drawn. 
She attempted to stick it in his neck, though Bandolier could dodge it. He swung his leg across her, though she too was able to jump out of the way, the folds of her canary dress flowing through the air. 
The other attendants of the feast were all alarmed; the girl swung three more times, with deadly precision, each just barely missing Bandolier. 
Bandolier, eventually realizing she was well-intended to see him dead, drew enough energy to catch her knife-wielding hoof middair, spinning it around and tackling her to the ground. 
She dropped the knife as soon as she fell. 
She grunted, as Bandolier pressed his weight against her to the ground.
Lavender was curled up in horror, an ensemble of her guards having arrived to swarm around her. 
All eyes were on Bandolier, who was still struggling to keep the girl from breaking free. 
He managed to grab a hold of a few locks of her raven black hair, and, in a steep press, he smashed her head against the cold marble ballroom floor.
The girl was out like a light, and Bandolier, after catching his breath, checked to see if he had killed her. 
Her pulse remained, and Bandolier gave a sigh of relief. He had done it, he believed.
He had caught the killer. 





Taxi-car sweat and damp streetlight spillage sped past Salt Shaker and Blondie.
The city was all noise.
Blondie’s face hardened at the sewer-splattered green street sign he had been waiting for.
57th Avenue.
“One with common sense might think not to keep digging deeper down the rabbit hole,” Salt Shaker muttered, “It’s not too late to quit.”
“Common sense and I don't tend to get along."

Passing the milky grey puddles outside, Salt Shaker and Blondie made their way into the musky front lobby of the Den. 
Anvil was there, leaning by the fuzzy side bar with a cigarette lodged between his lips. 
Blondie ignored the boorish stallion, following Salt Shaker into the opened elevator.
“Shouldn’t you two be somewhere?” Anvil asked the two of them from outside the elevator. 
“Something came up,” Blondie replied, pressing the button on the elevator panel. 
The doors slid close, Anvil’s piercing eyes locked onto Blondie until they were all the way shut.
Salt Shaker examined the knives and explosives he had strapped around his body, hidden beneath a faded overcoat. 
“I’m only doing this for you,” Salt Shaker said, his eyes gliding along the edge of his butcher’s knife blade, “Had you not strolled along with your tale of lost love, I’d instead be hunting down poor Brandy myself. No doubt.”
Blondie glanced at the giant, whose face showed remorse. 
“You’ve been a good friend to me. Let’s see this through together. For both our sakes.”
Salt Shaker nodded, sliding the blade back into its sheath. 

The elevator buzzed open.
The crimson-carpet hallway was empty, to Blondie’s relief. Halfway down, the grand old doors to Crozer’s luxurious office were wide open for the taking. 


Salt Shaker threw open both doors, which swung back with a thunderous force. 
Blondie and Salt Shaker stormed forwards, and halted a few steps in. 
The office was deserted.
Almost. 
Crozer was leaning back in his leather chair behind his mahogany desk, busy at work, signing papers with a feather-tipped pen. 
“Crozer,” Salt Shaker bellowed, taking another step forward.
Crozer’s eyes did not leave his paperwork. 
Blondie waited, nearly ten seconds, before aggressively clearing his throat. 
“Oh, Blondie,” Crozer murmured. 
“This ends now,” Blondie said, coldly. 
Salt Shaker glared at Crozer, who was utterly unphased by Blondie’s threat. 
Crozer noticed Blondie’s gaze shifting over to the locked safe. 
“...You want it, don’t you. You need it. But, for a moment, Blondie. Think things over. You try to screw with me, you’re gonna have a pretty long list of bad sons of bitches wanting to get a piece of you. What could be worth that? And even if you do get out, do you really just want to go back to working at some minimum wage shithole?” Crozer said, smirking his golden-toothed grin, “Another deadbeat who fell off the racetrack. Used to be different, didn’t it? Blondie used to be a cop, Salt. Did you know that?”
Salt Shaker had not known that.
“We dug him up. Got ditched from the force for stealing cash evidence. Had a bloody record like I've never seen. I’ve never been so wrong about anypony, Blondie. You’re just as much a scumbag as the rest of us. A dirty cop can only go straight for so long. It was just a matter of time before you had to dip your hoof back into the pool."
“You don’t know anything about me,” Blondie said through bared teeth. 
“Maybe. But I did know exactly when you and that shithead behind you would try and pull a fast one on me.”
Before Blondie could even react, the doors again swung open.
In came rows upon rows of Black Hoof goons, each bearing a crude weapon of deadly sorts. There must have been thirty to boast, swarming around Blondie and Salt Shaker like sharks around wounded prey.
“...I think your charm has begun to wear off,” Salt Shaker muttered, backing up against Blondie. 
Crozer cackled to himself, leaning back in his chair, while the pack of thugs closed in around them.


Blondie moved first, jerkily snagging one of the grenades off of Salt Shaker’s belt. Releasing the pin, he threw it towards the doorside, and turned to run in the opposite direction. 
The explosion broke out as soon as the grenade was thrown against the ground, blowing a number of the thugs into countable pieces. 
Blood soaked into the carpet.
Vases and busts were shaken from their posts, collapsing to the floor into lost shards. 
Blondie had only brought a knife with him, and quickly made good use of it.
He was heading for Crozer, though the wall of thugs in front of him would prove a toilsome obstacle.
He slashed one across the face, and another up the neck, ripping apart the pony’s jugular with one sweeping motion. 
Another soul had the misfortune of tripping over a pony screaming blood, and he fell right upon the outstretched blade in Blondie’s hoof. 
Blondie held the blade and took flight, seeking to distance himself from the crowd surrounding him below. 
Three of the pegasi followed after him. Blondie, without thinking, threw his knife directly into the skull of the one closest to yanking his hind leg. 
Blondie gave chase to the other two, who both had snap-firing weapons, launching heated beams of magical energy that soared through the air like bullets.
Dodging reflective panel-like streams of red, blue, and green, Blondie soared through the electrified tunnel of air.  


Salt Shaker had just finished lodging the sharp end of his hammer through a thug’s head, splitting it open like an axe to a tree. He was grinning, reaching into his belt to throw a spray of spiked pellets towards the floor. And, as he had expected, the thugs about to pounce came screaming down to the ground, tripping and falling into the spikes. 
Salt Shaker reached for his knife again, only to find he had lost it. 
He saw it waiting for him, stuck in the flesh of some dead Black Hoof thug lying on some other bodies. Salt Shaker had already sustained six cuts around the legs and chest, though he could still walk. 
He limped towards the knife, as more guards began to file into the room. 
But, as he reached down to pick it up, a sharp pain in his side sent him reeling over to the ground. 
It was Anvil’s own hatchet, stuck between two ribs, that had brought the giant down, groaning in agony while Anvil’s sickly smirk mocked him from above. 
Anvil noticed Blondie above too, right as he managed to dart suddenly to the left and cause both of his pegasus pursuers to crash headfirst into a column. Teeth and blood from the impact sprinkled down to the ground like rain. 


Blondie descended back down, and first believed Salt Shaker to have been killed. 
He stood facing Anvil and the pack of vengeful thugs that were still alive.
Anvil laughed, and began stomping towards Blondie, who was not sure how to prepare against the stallion twice his size.
Anvil first swung left with his hatchet, though Blondie could dodge it. 
The second time he was not as lucky. 
Blondie spat blood directly into Anvil’s face, and held onto the hatchet handle for dear life. It was stuck in his side, blood leaking out like a punctured fruit. 
Anvil scowled and smacked Blondie free, tumbling off to the ground beside Salt Shaker, both now bloody messes. 


From his desk, that smirk had not once left Crozer’s face. 
“Blondie...Another alley corpse dragged onto the street. Looks like you’ve finally run out of tricks.”
Blondie, gasping for breath and clutching his wounded side, lifted his head up, sweat dripping off his stubbly face.
Blondie smirked, subtly, and glanced towards the window.
Crozer, confused, slowly followed Blondie’s line of sight out the tall window to his right. 
“Oh, you’ve got to be-”
Glass flew across the room from either direction; each and every window broke upon impact, when that black iron shell came screeching at full speed from its spout.
Outside, in a bright pink hot air balloon, a pink earth pony sat with four bouncing legs behind a basket-mounted cannon. Her mouth hung open, while the smoke cleared from the cannon and the interior of the top floor she had just annihilated. 
“That….was...amazing!” Pinkie exclaimed. 
It was Blondie who had caught wind of Pinkie’s experience with cannons, party-themed of course. And, naturally, he could think of a decent use for a skill like that. Salt Shaker marveled at the hot air balloon from outside, glancing at Blondie in shock. 
“So that’s what you meant,” he muttered.
Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, who had been flying on either side of the hot air balloon, soon swept inside through the hole in the glass.
The cannonball had cleared the entire building, without issuing a single casualty. Though, its impact was so disorienting, that nearly everypony was now down on their knees, holding onto their heads while the ringing refused to break away. 
“Blondie, you bastard,” Crozer muttered, reaching for his desk drawer to draw a knife of his own.
Blondie was back to his hooves, right as Rainbow and Fluttershy caught up with him.
“You’ve got a funny sense of timing.”
“Better late than never,” Rainbow smiled.
Rainbow picked up on some thug moaning as he stood upright, and, without delay, she promptly lobbed a solid kick with her hind legs, crushing his rib cage and caving in his chest. 
Blondie could not help but be impressed. Rainbow shrugged.  
Blondie knelt besides Salt Shaker, who was also in the process of rising back to his hooves. 
“You’re not having a good night, are you, Blondie.”
Blondie caught his breath, shaking his head.
While the thugs all began to rise back up, Anvil made it first, cracking his jaw and shaking his head to quell that incessant ringing. 
“I think I’ve just about had enough of you,” Anvil muttered. 
Rainbow stepped up first to challenge the hulking stallion, only to be held back by Salt Shaker, who took the point instead. 
“You’re hurt,” Blondie pointed out.
Salt Shaker only glared at him, and turned back to face Anvil. 
“Get what you came for, Blondie. Leave the rest to us,” Salt Shaker said, tossing two of his remaining grenades over to Blondie.
Rainbow grabbed a hold of Fluttershy’s hoof. 
“Don't go anywhere” Rainbow said. Fluttershy, who was quaking from head to hoof, nodded through her jittering. Rainbow flew over to Blondie. 


Blondie stormed towards the briefcase, but was again impeded, this time by Crozer’s knife spinning through the air, slicing off a few strands of hair before it deflected off of a marble column. 
Blondie spun around to face Crozer, who was suffering a headache from that cannonball blast. Rainbow arrived beside him.
"Who're your little friends?" Crozer asked, "They know how to make an entrance."
"Twilight Sparkle sent me," Rainbow said, "The murders in Ponyville, what do you know?"
Crozer glanced at Blondie, puzzled.
"That's what you're after me for? I don't get to say this often, toots, but of that, I'm innocent."
"I told you," Blondie said.
"But..." Rainbow stuttered, unwilling to give up so easily.
"So your friend Twilight Sparkle sent you to bother me. And you have. But trying to pin that slaughter on me? Well, that just won't do."
"Rainbow, go take care of your friends," Blondie said, "I'll handle him."
Rainbow was too furious to argue, storming away to rejoin Salt, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie.
Crozer's eyes followed her for a moment, before returning to Blondie. 
“Blondie...You have no idea how valuable that briefcase is…”
“You're right. It's about time I find out,” Blondie replied.
Blondie narrowed his eyes, and reached down to pick up Crozer’s knife that had fallen to the ground. 
“Blondie...Brandy's one of us. Always been one of us. A crook. A cheat. A killer. She’ll toss you aside once she’s gotten what she wants. Whatever you think you had with her, forget it.”
Blondie shook his head. 
“I’ve had you figured out since the day I picked you up from that fire. Ungrateful rat. I saved your life! And this is how you repay me?”
Blondie glanced down at the knife in his hoof, and for a moment he found himself hesitating. 
Crozer took advantage of Blondie’s indecisiveness, making a break towards him with a second knife drawn. 
But Blondie was quicker, dodging the blade and grabbing a hold of Crozer’s arm. He bent it upwards and socked Crozer right in the face, spinning the gold-toothed slick-haired stallion around three times, before he came falling on his face in a daze. 
“Consider us even,” Blondie muttered, tossing the bloodless knife off to the side. 


Rainbow Dash had been enjoying a peaceful life for too long, she thought, as she struggled to keep up with the horde of brutish stallions sprinting towards her. Taking flight, she could dodge and confuse them as much as she was able, though their numbers were overwhelming. 
Fluttershy, meanwhile, was crouching in the corner, shaking in fear. 
“Fluttershy!” Rainbow yelled mid-flight, as she avoided the swing of some thug’s burly spiked mace. 
“Help!” she added, as Fluttershy had made no movement at all. 
Fluttershy was close to tears; she was petrified. Death had never felt so close these days. 
Trembling, the sight of Rainbow narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half was convincing her to act against her better wishes. 
Fluttershy spread her wings and rushed over towards Rainbow.
The thug with the mace had found his opportunity, drawing it behind his head with the intention of smashing Rainbow’s skull to bits.
But Fluttershy arrived in time, grabbing his hoof and pulling backwards with all her strength.
The thug lost his balance, and fell backwards in a heap, unwittingly knocking his head on the metal hilt of a pony’s downed axe. 
Rainbow took out the last thug with a kick to the face, and joined Fluttershy down below. 
“What would I do without you?” Rainbow said, smiling.
Anvil was there, at the front, recognizing both ponies as some accomplices of Twilight Sparkle. 
“Now here’s a real prize,” Anvil said, smacking his lips. 
He broke out towards the two of them, and despite Rainbow’s best efforts, she could do little to stop the titan stallion’s charge. 
He snatched Rainbow from the ground, and tossed her into a column. He held her up by her neck, and squeezed his hoof around her throat, tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until Rainbow’s face was purple and she could feel her eyes bulging from their sockets. 
“Rainbow!” Fluttershy cried, unable to help while she was avoiding the onslaught of thugs rushing towards her.
Then Salt Shaker tackled Anvil from behind, forcing him to release his grip from Rainbow, who had already passed out from lack of oxygen. 
Fluttershy, fearing Rainbow could be dead, ran over to her to check on her pulse. 
Fluttershy, fearing the worst, picked up Rainbow by her front legs, and began dragging her back towards the broken window. 
“Pinkie Pie!” Fluttershy screamed. Pinkie was still in the hot air balloon, waiting for the others. Realizing Fluttershy was flagging her down, Pinkie quickly got to work scooting the balloon closer. 

Salt Shaker, though he was still bleeding profusely, was far from defeated, as Anvil had the misfortune of learning. 
Salt Shaker landed not one, but two full-wind punches up Anvil’s jaw, loosening every tooth he still had. 
“You know, I never liked you,” Anvil managed to say, coughing up blood. 
“The feeling was mutual.”
Salt Shaker landed a third punch, this time straight up Anvil’s chest, tearing into the boorish stallion's breastbone, splintering bone fragments in a red frenzy. A hole was left where Salt Shaker’s hoof had been, blood and chips of bone stuck to his fur. 
Anvil’s face was of shock, and the stallion came crashing to his knees. He keeled over on his side, dead.


While Salt Shaker was busy with Anvil, Blondie had made it to the safe, planting both of his grenades against it and releasing the pins.
He raced back towards the other side of the room. But he was not as fast as he thought, and the explosion sent him flying backwards into one of the marble columns, crashing down hard on his shoulder when gravity caught up to him. 
With weak eyelids, he saw the safe had been shaken open during the blast; and inside he saw a black leather briefcase. 
The briefcase.
He smiled in relief, just to know that it was there, that it was real.
He glanced to his right just in time to see Fluttershy drag Rainbow into the hot air balloon, the three of them quickly taking off from the scene. 
Police sirens could be heard in the distance, closing in, and Blondie knew he was running out of time.
But he had lost too much blood, and his consciousness was waning. 
Then he saw Salt Shaker and his  bloodshot eyes, limping across the field of corpses and the wounded, heading straight towards the opened safe. 
“...Salt,” Blondie said, smiling in relief.
But Salt Shaker was not smiling.
The giant wiped the blood off his face and picked up the briefcase, holding onto it tightly, as if his life depended on it. 
Blondie’s smile faded. 
“Salt,” he repeated. 
Salt Shaker’s eyes passed over Blondie briefly, right as the blue and red lights began to flash from outside. 
“Didn’t mean for it to end this way,” Salt Shaker said.
The giant gave a courteous nod of respect to his former partner, and took off towards the exit. 
“Wait...Wait,” Blondie coughed, though he was too injured to move much. 
But Salt Shaker was gone.
Blondie could do no more, give no more, take no more. He was spent, enough so that he could only mutter some final curses and regrets before falling deeper into that tempting darkness.  





Sunburst adjusted his collar, unable to keep eye contact with either of the three shimmering royal soldiers waiting on his stoop. 
Behind them was a company of twenty-odd troops. 
“Mr. Sunburst?” asked the center pony, the white-coated unicorn mare with the soft blonde mane that curled past her forehead. She was Snowfall Glitter, currently making a subtle inspection of the house from around Sunburst’s shoulders. 
Sunburst nodded, his left eye twitching. Blinding sunlight reflected off of the troops’ sparkling spears, and into his eyes. 
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sunburst. Is this your residence?” Snowfall asked. 
“Yes, certainly. Is there something wrong?” he asked, stuttering over his words. 
The leftmost lieutenant, the dark velvet unicorn mare with the trimmed magenta mane and serpentine eyes, spoke next. 
“Step aside.”
She meant to storm right past the frazzled Sunburst, until Snowfall’s hoof stopped her. 
“Excuse us. May we please come inside?” Snowfall corrected, “We only want to take a look around.”
“I believe you need a warrant for that,” Sunburst said, matter-of-factly. 
“Yeah, and we can wait out here all day to get one,” said the last lieutenant, the stubbly brown pegasus, “Or you can let us inside, wise guy, and write yourself off our list. Don’t play stupid. You know why we’re here.”
“Honest, sir, I don’t,” Sunburst insisted. 
Hawkbit ignored Sunburst, shoving past him inside.  
“Hey!” 
Hawkbit smacked Sunburst to the ground with his hoof, his eyes burning wildly.
“You do yourself a favor and stay out of our way, wizard.”
Sunburst bitterly made his way back to his hooves, while more soldiers marched inside the house. 
“You can’t just come in here and-”
Hawkbit did not wait for Sunburst to finish, running him again to the ground, this time pinning him against his own carpet, as he reached for the knife stashed squarely in his belt sheath. 
“You’re gonna pay for what you did. Bronze Beam was a good friend of mine.”
Hawkbit raised the knife and stroked its face against Sunburst’s quivering neck. Sunburst grunted, helpless beneath Hawkbit’s weight.
“Hawkbit,” Snowfall scolded from the kitchen, realizing what he was doing. 
Hawkbit, sweat dripping off his chin, had to force himself to back away, denying himself his satisfaction.
“Search the house. They’re here somewhere,” Snowfall said, as more troops filed inside, “And remember. Only use force if absolutely necessary,” Snowfall said, speaking directly to Redshift. 
“We’ll see. Not like a real fight would be worth it anyways. These ponies are washed-up has-beens. Probably why they went and did the horrible things they did. To get attention.”
Hawkbit snickered, while checking inside the closet in the living room. 
“What more would you expect, from a bunch of rejects?” Redshift added, laughing to herself. 
Above in the attic, Starlight was struggling to stay still, her heart alive with indignant, stubborn vengeance. Twilight didn't have the stomach to confront her face-to-face, it seemed. 
They had been listening to the ponies below through the thin floorboards, careful not to make a sound. 
“What do we do about him?” asked Hawkbit.
“He’s a suspect nonetheless,” Redshift said, “Bring him in for questioning. Use whatever means necessary. Twilight’s orders.”
Hawkbit smirked. 
Snowfall glared at the two of them.
“We’re not resorting to extremes, if that’s what you mean,” Snowfall said, aggressively sticking her nose in Redshift’s face. 
Redshift was undeterred, standing tall to try and meet Snowfall at eye level. 
“We do as Twilight commands, or have you gone soft on us already?" Redshift scowled.
Snowfall bit her lip and backed down slightly. 
“Just finish checking the house," Snowfall said, "I’ll speak with Twilight personally about what to do with the suspect.”
Redshift turned her attention back to the kitchen. 
“Come out, come out, wherever you are...You can’t run forever,” she muttered. 
“Maybe they’ve already left?” one of the soldiers suggested. 
“It’s possible. Wouldn’t expect more from the cowards,” Redshift snarled. 
But the suspects in question were closer than she had presumed, as she would discover, when a flash of light in the living room revealed Starlight and Trixie, back against back, horns glowing like torches. 
Starlight struck down Hawkbit first, and at least five of the soldiers nearby with a splash of electrified flaming blue magic. 
Hawkbit seized back and collapsed by the door, dazed and confused. 
“There you are,” grinned Redshift from the stairs, jumping down and charging her horn. 
Starlight dodged Snowfall’s quick attempt at freezing her in a block of ice, and grabbed a hold of Sunburst. 
“Hang on!”
Starlight teleported the three of them to the kitchen, again catching a group of guards unprepared. Sunburst returned to his hooves, while Starlight shot down every soldier who dared to face her, non-fatally. 
Trixie fired back in rapid succession, though she was no match for Redshift nor Snowfall, whose battery of hot flashes nearly sent her doubling back into the void. 
Trixie scurried to the kitchen to take cover around a corner.
Starlight instinctively ducked down behind the counter, pulling Sunburst below with her. She moved just in time, when a series of repeating magical bullets came bursting through the wall separating the kitchen wall, annihilating the nearby windows and furniture. 
Sunburst screamed, shielding his face from the broken glass. 
Starlight jumped back up, right as Snowfall took her stride forwards. 
“Starlight Glimmer...I don't want to hurt you," Snowfall warned. 
Starlight scowled, and her horn continued glowing blue. 
Snowfall tilted her head in disappointment, and launched her icy beam of magic straight towards Starlight. 
Starlight met the attempt with a magical beam of her own, and the two were met at a gridlock. 
Soldiers began pouring in from the other entryways. Trixie could only hold off so many, hiding behind what remained of a wooden cabinet. 
Redshift entered the kitchen, and spotted Sunburst first, charging her horn with the intention of removing a suspect from the list. 
Or at least she planned, before an electric blue wave knocked her forwards from behind.
Sunset Shimmer had appeared in a flash of light and sparkling stardust, her eyes on fire. 
Redshift crashed to the ground, half-conscious.
Sunset took it upon herself to do away with every other soldier that chose to rush in from the openings. 
The first three were torn in half, diagonally across by a bloody streak of violent blue. 
The next four saw only blinding white light before that searing burst of fire erupted through their heads and chests. Steaming, gushing blackened mealish guts spilled onto Sunburst’s polished hardwood floor, while empty skulls came barreling against walls. And Sunset was grinning the whole while. 
Meanwhile, Snowfall had Starlight split even, having to actually make an effort to withstand the force of impact. Then a fire was reignited within her, and she could see to it to push even harder, eventually spinning Snowfall off balance. 
Snowfall came flying backwards all the way into Sunburst’s living room wall, leaving a pony-sized crater in the wall. Snowfall gave a light-pitched grunt and collapsed forwards, sorely defeated. 
“Not bad,” Starlight admitted, and Snowfall could just barely hear her, before passing out. 
“Starlight, c'mon!” Sunset exclaimed, before turning to Sunburst, “Teleport us out of here, we’ll hold them off!”
Sunburst began charging his horn, waiting for Starlight to race back. 
“More are coming,” Trixie warned. 
“Starlight!” Sunset yelled, realizing Redshift was rising back to her hooves. 
Before Redshift could surprise Starlight with a heat beam to the face, Sunset caught the velvet unicorn first.
Redshift narrowly dodged the blast, though it was too late. Starlight reached the others just as Sunburst’s spell was near-completion. 
Starlight was revolted by Sunset’s work on those poor soldiers, teetering on throwing up at the nightmarish paintjob in the kitchen.
From the ground, Redshift grunted, unwilling to fail Twilight’s assignment. 
She ran down towards Sunset, right as Sunburst’s horn was glowing its brightest.
Then all of them disappeared in a flash of light, Redshift included, just as the second company of soldiers stormed forth past the broken-down front door.   





“Take a drag, you’ve earned it.”
Eight Ball had just returned to the Erased’s headquarters in Canterlot, still a raving fluster.
Alias greeted Eight Ball with a rare smile, and, as promised, a cigarette. 
“Pass,” Eight Ball muttered. There was blood on his hooves. A persnickety griffin’s blood, to be exact.
“It's a shame it had to be done. I know. He was a friend of mine.”
“Some way to treat your friends,” Eight Ball muttered, forgoing his dogmatic cordiality, "I'd hate to be your enemy."
Alias’ jovial demeanor evaporated like a puff of smoke. 
He stalked closer towards Eight Ball like a vulture.
“Yes, you would. It just so happens my duty to protect this nation means friends cannot get in the way. Another day without a civil war, you can thank me later.”
Eight Ball shook his head in disapproval. 
“Gore entered the Crystal Palace, before we neutralized him.”
“Go figure. What was he up to?”
“Not sure. Shining Armor’s barred all non-military personnel from entering the palace, we couldn’t get in. We're not sure how Gore managed it.”
Alias rolled his eyes. 
“Our fool prince. He’s only hurting his own chances.”
“Sir, not to question your judgment, but...what other course of action could we possibly take? If it really is Twilight behind this, we’d need Cadance’s help to stop her.”
“We aim for the path with the least amount of casualties.”
Eight Ball did not understand. 
Alias led him down a path in the control room, to peer through a nearby large glass window that led to a laboratory on the other side. 
“It’s too soon to let Cadance know of anything. We still don’t know much about what Twilight is after. All we can do for now is keep investigating and prepare for the worst…”
Alias waved over at one test being conducted behind the glass: a trio of scientists were huddled around a petri dish, positioned below a large mechanical barrel-shaped contraption.
“That’s alicorn blood. Twilight’s sample, to be exact.”
The barrel device came to life, spewing out a beam of heated energy towards the petri dish. 
A cloud of smoke cleared, and, left behind, the petri dish was completely disintegrated. But the puddle of blood remained.
Alias and Eight Ball both stood dumbfounded. 
“We’ll find a way. Somehow,” Alias said, confidently.
“Equestria depends on it.”