//------------------------------//
// Dancing Strings 
// Story: Colours of Dusk 
// by AlphatheGriffin17 
//------------------------------//

"Now," said Grace from his makeshift stage, "I know that the thoughts are going through your heads for a last, heroic stand. But I think we can all agree that would be a colossal waste of time and energy. So I suggest you lay down your accessories and simply relax. I assure you, it'll be much easier for all of us if you do."

Even as a few of them drew their weapons and took stances, Dusk could see that it was a lost cause. Dozens of Tube's robots and what looked like even more puppets surrounded them from all sides. At least forty overall, he couldn't count them all. All of them had ranged weapons trained on them. He could try casting a shield, along with Doom. But there was no guarantee they'd be fast enough to block every shot and they were already one down.

They all looked to Sombra, for what they knew was inevitable. The former king, now prince, sighed and dropped his sword. Trixie removed her daggers and set them down too, along with Thorax's crossbow and Dusk's rapier. A couple of the puppets stepped forward, firing the razor-thin wires to coil around their forelegs, forcing them to kneel. Another placed inhibitor rings on their horns, dampening their magic.

"That's much better, isn't it? Come on now, don't look so surprised," said Grace. "We knew exactly who was attacking us the second you engaged the outside defences. Did you really think we'd just leave our most important props out in the open for you to find? Oh, and I think you misplaced something."

They heard metal sounds from the tunnels they had just come through. As they entered their field of vision, they could see a robot carrying something on its back. Something blue with ruined armour and blackened scales which it slid off its back onto the ground before them.

"Ember!" Thorax scrambled forward, reaching her before he could be restrained. "No, no, no. You can't be…" He pressed the side of his head to her chest. "Sh-She's breathing. She's alive!"

"Course… I am…" she managed weakly. "Told you… I can take it…"

"Help her, please," Thorax begged Grace. "Your weapons, th-they've really hurt her."

"Yes they have rather," said Grace casually. "The good doctor was curious as to what their effect would be on dragons, given they're rather hardy beings. I suppose even they have their limits and it is magical blasts they're firing, not just mere fire. Getting all of this, doctor?"

He said this last part a little louder to the air. A voice answered him over an unseen speaker.

"I was already well aware of the developments," it said. "Your input is unnecessary, Grace."

"Isn't he such a charmer?" remarked Grace to them. To Tube, he said, "You're not going to come down here and see this for yourself? Lord your 'superior intelligence' over our would-be invaders?" "I trust you're more than capable of attending to them," Tube replied. "I have more important matters that I must see to."

Grace chuckled a little as the speaker clicked off. "You can tell he was the sort who stayed in the corner at a party, nursing a drink all by himself." He tilted his head and smirked. "Oh who am I kidding, he definitely never got invited to any parties."

"Please, you have to do something!" the changeling cried. "Ember needs help! If she's not treated, she could die! Don't you care at all?"

Grace held up a hoof in mock offence. "Now, there's no need to be like that. After all, you're the ones who all came barging in here, running amok of the place and making a mess. I hope you're all proud of yourselves, by the way. So many puppets, years of my meticulous work, ruined. It's going to take me ages to fix them. Really, most inconsiderate of you."

"Well, since you gave such a nice surprise at Ponyville, we felt it was only right to return the favour," replied Dusk.

"I suppose that's fair enough," shrugged Grace. "In any case, there's no need to worry yourself, little changeling. I'll be doing something to help her. To help all of you. After all, we have all the time in the world now."

"Whatever help you might offer, Grace, isn't the sort we'd want," said Sombra.

"Ah, don't knock it until you've tried it," he replied. "Besides, you can consider it recompense. As I said, you've damaged several of my best puppets, a few beyond repair." His expression suddenly turned ugly. "I can't say I really care for that."

"And what would we care?" growled Doom. "They are merely lifeless, wooden mockeries of ponies. What difference does it-?"

He was cut off with a scream when Grace detached his foreleg to zip over to Doom and slapped him across the face with an extended blade. It hovered under Doom's neck, interrupting his snarl while Grace glared at him with pure malice.

Then, all of a sudden, his easy showpony smile returned, along with his limb to his body.

"Sorry about that," he said in a would-be casual voice. "I just get a little… sensitive when it comes to my work. You can understand, can't you, Trixie?"

The magician tensed. "Y-You know me?"

"But of course! 'The Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon, Magician Extraordinaire'," he recited. "I always keep up-to-date on my fellow performers, you see. Your posters were quite eye-catching. Sadly, I haven't had the chance to see one of your shows but don't you worry. I'm sure you'll make an absolutely splendid part of mine!"

"P-Part of yours? Th-Then… the stories..." Trixie suddenly looked very pale. "No, no, please! You're not going to take me, you're not!"

"Now, I understand it may seem frightening to you. Those sordid, exagerrated stories don't help either," he said gently. "But trust me when I say, your life is going to be so much better."

"Keep your hooves off her!" snarled Doom.

Grace's head twitched. "You are really beginning to get on my nerves, you know and that's not an easy thing to do."

"What do you want out of this, Grace?" demanded Sombra. "What does a showpony stand to gain from Fallen's plans? What do you any of you hope to achieve? You must know what he has planned!"

"Oh, of course we do. And really, it just has a certain appeal, depending on who you talk to." He began to pace before them. "I can't speak for all of them, of course. The twins, for example, not that they say much as it is. Tube has his fancy experiments, which I'm sure you've witnessed. That Edge fellow, or what's left of him, doesn't really have much of a choice. Osteo simply likes a good fight and Selena is keen to get some payback for all the strife she's been put through in her life. Honestly, I can sympathise with that last one."

"I can't imagine whatever you receive scorn for matches to prejudice based on how you were born, Grace," said Dusk.

"You say that without even knowing what it is yet," he replied. "And I do believe I promised you a place in my troupe first. So let's start with you."

Nearby puppets hoisted Dusk off his hooves and dragged him towards their master. He tried to struggle, but the wire bit into his legs. Small trickles came from the cuts. Not deep, but enough to make him stop.

"I swear by what is left of my Empire, I will rend your head from your shoulders and dash it to pieces if you harm him!" Sombra yelled.

"Why do you immediately assume I'm going to do something harmful?" asked Grace. "I've already said quite a few times now, but I'm about to do all of you a great service."

"Then start with Ember!" cried Thorax. "She's in a really bad way, please!"

"She can wait," said Grace offhandedly, drawing something from his cloak. "I'll admit, I haven't tried my process on a dragon before or a changeling, for that matter. I'll be interested to see the result."

"And what process would that be?" Dusk asked, gritting his teeth through the pain.

Grace didn't answer. Not at first. Instead, he held something aloft in his magical aura. Dusk's blood went cold at the sight of a syringe. The liquid inside was clear, but didn't put him at ease. He levitated the tip of the needle towards Dusk. He shrank back from it, the point glinting as it neared.

Then, Grace suddenly pulled it back.

"You know, it just occurred to me," he went on conversationally. "The good king asked me what my stake was in all of this and I neglected to elaborate. How best to explain it…?" He pressed a hoof to his chin, then tapped it on the floor. "Let me ask you something, Dusk. Do you believe in the reign of the princesses?"

"I…" Dusk couldn't help but frown. The needle was all that was occupying his thoughts. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"My apologies, I should be more specific." He waved the needle around as he spoke. "I mean, in terms of their ideals. Friendship, harmony, all of that. Do you believe in it?"

"Well… yes," he answered uncertainly. He gulped, trying to focus on Grace's face and not the needle. "It may not be perfect, but overall they've done their best for Equestria."

"I suppose that's a fair answer. Do you want to know what I think, Dusk?" He went on before Dusk could actually respond. "I don't think there's much harmonious or friendly, when you really think about their nature."

Dusk tried to think of what he could mean. "As… as princesses?"

"As alicorns, though I suppose that's pretty much the same thing." He began to walk around Dusk's side. "How old is Celestia? A thousand years, undoubtedly more. And yet not a single day of it even shows. Of course it doesn't, she's an alicorn. By whatever magical boon she's been granted, she is immortal. But the rest of us? We're not so lucky. No matter how kind or lovely our princess may try to be, it doesn't change the fact that one day, every single one of her subjects will die and have been dying for millennia."

"But… that's just the way of things. It has been for-"

"But not for her." Grace turned sharply to look at Dusk. "No, she gets out of that little niggle. Not to mention her sister. Oh and lest we forget our two newest alicorns: her lovely niece and her talented student. Twilight Sparkle, wielder of the Element of Magic. The legendary Elements of Harmony. It's quite a harsh bit of irony, isn't it, Dusk?"

Dusk flinched when Grace moved his face to force Dusk to look at him. "I-Irony?"

"That the princess whose very power is drawn from the Magic of Friendship will one day lose her friends," he answered. "Don't tell me that never crossed your mind. You're a smart pony, Dusk. While the years pass, Twilight may grow older in her mind, maybe get a little taller. But ultimately, she'll go on and on and on. Meanwhile she has to watch you, your other friends, her whole family and everypony else she cherishes grow old, wither away and die."

Dusk did his best to divert his eyes from Grace's smirking visage. But that didn't change the fact those words stirred something in his mind. Something he'd been keeping deep down, that he didn't want to even think about but being drawn to the surface.

"Yes, it is rather cruel when you see it that way, isn't it?" Grace patted his shoulder sympathetically. "The same goes for Sombra here, Luna will remain as eternal as the night sky above. And then there's Mi Amore Cadenza. Princess of Love, set to one day lose and live on past the one she loves most. And they call it an ascendance, a blessing. What kind of leader not only has to accept that fact and endure it, but also would see that fate shared with others?"

Nopony answered him. Nopony tried to argue. The only other sound came from Ember's laboured breathing and Thorax's suppressed sounds of concern for her.

"Yes, she must either be very cruel or very lonely. They're not really so far from each other, are they?" mused Grace. "But that's where I come in. As you've seen, I'm far from an ordinary pony. I used to be, once upon a time, but after much sacrifice and dedication, I've achieved the closest thing I can get to what they have without needing a pair of wings and a fancy title. I'm not as old as dear Celestia, but I'll get there, eventually."

Doom snorted. "You, an immortal? You expect us to believe that?"

"Oh, I can assure you, I'm not far off," Grace smirked. "After all, what other word is there, for what I've achieved? The good doctor and I don't see eye-to-eye on many things, but one thing we can agree on is this: the flesh is weak."

With a flourish, his body began rising into the air, all four of his legs and even his head detaching from his main body and hovering in place. All of them, sans Dusk and Doom, stared in shock in horror at the display.

"Weak, flawed, ugly, and temporary," Grace's head went on, a hint of disgust entering his voice. "But where the doctor attempts to improve upon the flesh with his science and precious little gadgets, I have instead replaced it entirely with something better." Now, a new tone entered Grace's voice, faintly manic and barely noticeable under his perpetually even tone. "Observe my form. I do not feel pain. I do not tire. I do not hunger. I have cast off my own weak prison of flesh, and with it the fetters of mortality that once bound me. I have escaped the looming spectre of death which haunts all other living beings, save the alicorns and the creatures Fallen now commands. So tell me, what would you call me, if not perfect and immortal?"

"An abomination," Sombra answered easily, not flinching when Grace's head whirled to face him. "We may each be flawed, but it is those very flaws which make us who we are. Whatever you've done to yourself is nothing to admire. You've merely robbed yourself of everything that makes life worth living."

For the briefest moment, Grace's face twisted into something truly ugly, a hideous visage of anger. But then Dusk blinked, and it was gone, replaced with only a mildly-annoyed expression as Grace reassembled his body and lowered back to the floor.

"For you, perhaps," Grace said, his tone returning to its usual even lilt. "I find value in my continued existence through my creations. I wouldn't expect short-sighted fools with no appreciation for beauty to understand."

Even as Grace spoke, inconsistencies that had niggled at Dusk's brain since the moment he first learned of Grace's nature began to bubble back to the surface of his thoughts.

Twilight's theory about Grace was, so far, the only thing that possibly explained what the strange unicorn could've been… and yet, the more Dusk thought about it, the more parts of it didn't make sense. It was as Twilight had said, for a golem created by a pony to become as free-willed and articulate as Grace obviously was shouldn't have been possible, at least not theoretically. Even then, Spike was also right: even if Grace really was some sort of golem that had become extremely independent, somepony still had to have made him at some point. That somepony would still have to be alive, or else Grace would have gone berserk like any other golem. Grace hadn't mentioned being subservient to anyone other than Fallen though, nor did he seem remotely like the type willing to take orders. So how…?

"How though, Grace?" Dusk found himself asking, partly to keep the unicorn talking and delay whatever his intentions were, and partly out of genuine bewilderment. "You said you used to be a normal pony. How did you do this to yourself? How did you do any of this? What are you, really?"

"Hm?" Grace tilted his head back to Dusk and smiled again, faintly. "Ah, I should've known you'd be interested, Dusk. Both an artist and intellectual in one." While Grace's attention was on him, Dusk noticed Doom start to move out of the corner of his eye. "Well… why not? We've come this far, and I'm curious to see how you'll-"

SCHNRRK!

Faster than he could blink, Dusk watched as Grace, without even turning, flung his leg back out in Doom's direction, the bladed hoof sinking into his dark half's leg. Doom grunted in pain as the glow that had been building on his horn immediately faded. His growl and Trixie's cry of concern were both silenced as the wires binding them tightened even further.

"-react," Grace finished without missing a beat as his leg flew back to him, before tilting his head in the others' direction. "My puppets' eyes are my eyes. As such, I would advise none of you to try anything silly. We're just about to get to the good part. Now, Dusk." He began moving around Dusk again, that cursed needle still hovering in view. "I can see on your face that you already have some theory of your own. Why don't you tell me what you think I am, and let's see how close you are."

Dusk gulped. Grace's attention seemed like it was squarely on him, but the faux-pony was evidently watching all of them for any sudden movements or attempts at magic. Distracting him wasn't an option. For now, all he could do was try to buy time for a miracle.

"A… a golem," he said, falling back on the only thing he knew of that explained any of this. "You're not a puppet, you're a golem of some kind. Somepony had to have used the golem-creation spell to make you."

"My, my, once again you impress me. Somepony's been doing their research!" Grace said with a vaguely pleased expression. "I'm not really surprised. After the show in Ponyville, it's only natural that you'd try to figure out what you can, put the pieces together. Well, you're close, but you're still only half right. Don't feel bad though. I think I would have been genuinely shocked had you managed to guess the full truth."

Grace stopped moving, standing by Dusk's side. He held up one of his own wooden hooves, as though inspecting it.

"I recall being quite fascinated by the spell when I first learned of it, so long ago. I was but a humble, if dissatisfied student of art. Not so different from you, Dusk. Such an old piece of magic, I remember thinking, with so much untapped potential. Yet it was declared 'too dangerous' the second its so-called downsides made themselves known to the frail-hearted public, abandoned and forgotten before it ever had the chance for that potential to be realised. But that is what enterprising young minds are for, is it not? It was quite a challenge, figuring out how to replicate the spell based only on what records of it had made it into the history books. Even more so to develop the spell further, to refine it to suit my needs. It took many years of delicate experimentation and many, many failed attempts, but in the end, I succeeded."

"Succeeded at what? Making a golem?"

"Yes and no." Grace smiled. "I'm assuming you know of how the spell functions according to the history books, Dusk. That in order to create a golem, to give it life, one had to sever a small fraction of their soul to place within the new body. But ask yourself… what would happen if one pony decided that they did not wish to merely create a pale reflection of life? What if one young unicorn decided they didn't want to just make an artificial body and breathe life into it, but to take that body for their own self?" He leaned in slightly. "What would happen, do you suppose, if that unicorn resolved to not stop at just a bare sliver of his own soul? If he made the choice to go further… to give more, as much as possible… to willingly give all of himself to his own creation?"

Dusk felt his eyes widen. Grace chuckled and leaned back, beginning his slow pace around Dusk once more.

"The final result of that brave experiment is what you see before you. This was all a very long time ago, mind. I'm around… hmm. I want to say either just under or just over two-hundred years old, now. It's hard to tell, you stop keeping track of birthdays after a while." He shrugged. "Over the course of that time, though, I've accomplished much. Been to many places, seen many things. Although, I've had to alternate between moving out in the open and going into hiding whenever my activities have caught an undesirable amount of attention. I've even had to adopt new identities, in order to keep myself from attracting unwanted attention. Once, I was Silken String. Then I was Rosary Twine, Thread Dancer… I've had many names, given myself slightly different faces. Once Fallen's new world comes to fruition though, I won't have to hide myself any longer." He swept his forelegs out in a grandiose gesture. "I'll at last be able to pursue my art, my true vision, to my soul's content."

Dusk hesitated, not sure if he even wanted to know at this point. "Your… true vision?"

"Ah!" Grace suddenly yelped - actually yelped, the closest thing to a noise of shock the faux-unicorn had made yet - and turned to look past Dusk, at some of the puppets standing around them. "Oh, of course! How rude of me to leave out my beloved creations. They are my passion, you see. They are what spurs me ever-onward, to new and greater artistic heights."

Grace abruptly left Dusk's side and began pacing around the room, his voice raising to properly address all of them.

"The princesses are going about it all wrong, you see. Immortality is only a curse so long as you have something to lose, something for the brutal sands of time to wrench away from you. But if you share that blessing with others, surround yourself with things that are equally timeless, that will never fade or perish, then you lose nothing. Perhaps Celestia has come to the same realisation herself. Why else would we see the return of her sister and the ascendance of two new alicorns so close to her, in a span of two short decades?" He chuckled and spun to face Dusk again.

"That's what it's all about, at the end of the day. Why selfishly keep my glorious discovery to myself, when I can share it with others, and bring them into the future with me? You mentioned my carving a puppet in your image when we last met, Dusk. What I propose is something much, much more unique." He gestured to one of his puppets. "They are rather fine, aren't they? Despite Tube's 'improvements', you can still tell who they are. Who they used to be, before I fixed them."

"What are you…?"

"Come on, Dusk, you must see it. You even managed to influence one of them. Very remarkable, by the way, I could feel it even from here," he added. "I didn't think anypony could do that other than myself, but you did. Almost as if it were actually alive…"

Dusk frowned. That was another thing that he still didn't understand. If these puppets all could function semi-independently, without requiring direct control from Grace, then… that meant they were likely golems of some sort as well. But how was that possible, if Grace claimed to have created them all? How would he be able to make and control so many other golems, despite being one himself? Did his strange new state of existence enable him to create so many? Or was there something else at play?

Dusk carefully considered Grace's words. Then, he took another look at the puppets around him. They were indeed very lifelike. Eerily so. He'd thought the same of Grace, until he'd revealed the truth about himself. And if he could do that to himself, transferring his own life force into the body of a puppet then…

"No…" Dusk remembered that little foal puppet, the one Grace had flawlessly imitated. "No, you didn't…!"

"At last, you realise!" He ran a hoof over the puppet closest to him. "As I said, it took many years to perfect the right version of the original spell, but I cracked it. A way to preserve the essence of a pony within a form of my own creation and bound to my will, turning their temporary, frail bodies into something so much more beautiful. So much more enduring! Admittedly I have a little work to do once this business is concluded, but it's always worth the effort. Don't you agree?"

Dusk had no words. He stared at the dozens of pony puppets surrounding him. There were mares and stallions of all different builds and appearances. Some looked like they could have been younger than him, others like they might have been much older. Was there truly some part of the ponies they used to be, still trapped in those wooden forms? How long had he been doing this? How many times had he failed before he'd succeeded at creating his spell, and what had become of those who had been used to test it?

It made him feel sick.

"I'm sure it may seem strange to you," Grace continued, "but you'll see what it's like, soon enough. I'm going to really enjoy adding you to my show, Dusk Noir. You and everyone here."

"So instead of dying, we just have to dance to your little tune forever? How exactly is that better?!" demanded Trixie.

Grace rolled his eyes. "Oh really, how is it that much different to the situation you're in now? You're already puppets, you just can't see the strings. Or do you usually make attacks on hidden bases at the behest of the Princess of the Sun?"

"Grace, you can't, please." Dusk could see the needle drifting close again. "This isn't right, you can't seriously think that-"

"But I do, Dusk. Don't worry, you'll retain enough of who you are. You'll even still have that wonderful magic of yours. I really can't wait to utilise it myself, really I can't." He held up the syringe. "This little potion will numb all of your senses and movements, even your magic, while I remove your essence from your body to place into your new one. Look, I've already got it prepared!"

He levitated something else over. Another puppet. This one had nothing connecting its limbs, no magic strands and only held aloft by Grace. But there was no mistaking what it was supposed to be. Dusk felt a chill run down his back as he stared at a wooden, expressionless reflection of himself.

"Do you like it? I tried very hard to capture your likeness. We can work out the little details once you're all settled in, but trust me, you will thank me." He set down the puppet and brought up the syringe. "Now, try to hold still. This'll be over before you know it."

"You heartless worm!" Doom bellowed. "Keep away from my brother!"

Grace quirked a brow. "You know, that might be the first endearing thing I've heard from you. You're still annoying, but credit where it's due."

"Ember doesn't need this!" cried Thorax, tears forming. "She needs actual help! She doesn't have much longer, please, Grace!"

"Would all of you just stop making so much noise, please?" he snapped.

Thorax became even more panicked now. Everypony else was yelling at Grace. Grace himself was getting closer to Dusk with that horrible needle. Dusk himself looked terrified, trying to keep away. Meanwhile, Ember looked like she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Her breathing was getting weaker and Thorax couldn't do anything about it.

"Ember, Ember, please," he whispered. "Stay with me, you're okay. Y-You're gonna be okay. Tough a-and strong, remember?"

"Thor… Thorax…" The ruby red was fading from her eyes. "Tell… tell Spike that I… I…"

"Don't say anything else, save it for when you see him," he said quietly. "Just keep your strength, s-stay strong. Please don't go, please!"

But he could tell it was no use. She was too badly hurt. He had no way of making that better, not tied up like this. He had all of this love stored up inside him, nourishing him better than he'd ever felt before and yet he couldn't do a thing for one of the beings who'd given it to him. His friend.

She was going to die and all he could do was watch. He pressed his head to her chest and sobbed. Useless, pathetic Thorax. Useless until the very end…

A thought came to his mind. Ember had given him her love as a friend, even if she didn't know it or was too embarrassed to admit it. Maybe, at the very least, he could give some of it back. Just to show how much it really meant to him.

Closing his eyes, he tapped into the magic that allowed changelings to feed. Either drawing love passively from those who offered it or using to take it straight from their bodies. The inhibitor may have cut off his ability to change shape, but this was something deeper and more instinctual. It couldn't just be turned off.

But instead of taking, he did something different. Something no changeling had done for a very, very long time. He syphoned the nourishing energy back to its original source. A pink magical vapour flowed from his chest and into Ember's.

Almost as soon as it touched her, she suddenly took a breath. A deep, strong breath and her eyes fluttered open.

"Thorax?" she murmured. "What… what are you…?"

"Ember? O-Oh my gosh, you're okay. Y-You're oka-!" He was cut off when two puppets tried to pull him away. "No, get off me! She still needs help!"

He was right. Though she looked a little better, he could see her struggling to stand up. Her arms and legs were shaking.

"Whatever is going on back there, deal with it," said Grace irritably, barely glancing over his shoulder. "Just keep them quiet until I'm ready for them."

Thorax struggled in vain against the puppets. But they couldn't stop him from sharing his love. If that was what had helped Ember, he'd just have to try again. This time, it wouldn't just be a little. He was going to give her all of it!

Pouring his energy into the connection between them, it exploded in a burst of magical energy. One that engulfed his whole body and Ember's. The shockwave knocked down his captors and others standing nearby, while also rejuvenating any of his friends caught in the wave.

Grace stopped, the needle inches from Dusk's neck and turned to look. His complaint halted before he could make it, he and Dusk staring openly at the sight. Ember was getting back to her feet. Her injuries were healed and she looked better than ever. But what truly caught their attention was Thorax himself.

When the light faded, he wasn't the same insect-like being he had been before. For one thing, he was much taller. As tall as Celestia herself. His body had turned a brilliant shade of green like a freshly budding plant, his underside the shade of a lush forest. A magenta carapace covered a set of large and sparkling wings. From his head came two, curved orange horns and his eyes had become a deep purple.

"What the…?" Ember's eyes were wide in astonishment. "What just…?"

"Alright, this has been an entertaining distraction," said Grace dismissively. "Now, little changeling, you're going to-"

"I'm not little," interrupted Thorax. "And I'm not just a changeling. I am Thorax of the Swarm. You hurt my friends and now, I'm going to show you what happens when you do!"

A green wave engulfed his whole body. In his place was a massive bear. Huge, furry and angry. His claws swiped at the closest robots and puppets, sending them careening to the wall. The others were all disorientated by the wave of energy from him earlier, swaying on the spot and not moving.

As other guards moved to intercept him, Ember moved to the others and used her claws to slice through their bonds and remove the inhibitors on their horns. Sombra swiped his sword and Dusk's, hurling the latter towards him. He managed to hold up his forelegs, letting it slice down the gap between his legs to struggle free.

"No, you don't!" Grace approached him, the syringe darting for him. "I've waited for this and I won't-!"

Something large and angry slammed into him. Shadows coiled around Doom as he attacked Grace with a savagery only he could manage. Dusk raised a hoof, fumbling with the inhibitor ring to join in. Only then did he realise something in his leg. Something that hadn't been there before.

The needle. Partially depressed. Just between the plates of his armour. The leg it was in was already starting to tingle strangely.

He yanked it out and tossed it aside, managing to slide off the inhibitor. Putting pressure on the leg it was in made that tingling worsen, travelling gradually outward from his knee.

He shook the leg in an attempt to restore feeling to it. He cast his yellow magic on it. It relieved it for a moment, but it came back within seconds. Was it his imagination or did it feel worse?

He looked to see Grace and Doom, engaged in close combat. Doom was brutal and strong, but as Grace had observed in their last fight, that was all he relied on. Grace was able to stay out of his swings, landing a few hits of his own.

Dusk levitated his sword. Grace's back was turned, he could strike now while he had the element of surprise.

But he hesitated. This didn't feel right. Even with all he knew Grace had done and was planning to do, doing this to him just… didn't fit somehow. He wasn't even sure if stabbing him would work.

But he had to try something. He brought the sword next to his head, charging forward to stab Grace's chest.

But the unicorn swivelled his head around and grinned. His body flew apart again and he soared away like leaves in a breeze. This happened just as Doom charged past the place Grace had been standing, right at Dusk.

The two brothers crashed into each other before they could stop themselves. Moments later, Doom was right in Dusk's face with an angry leer.

"I saw that," he hissed. "You had a moment to strike and you didn't take it."

"I-I was… I couldn't-"

"I'm not interested in your excuses!" he snapped. "I'll make this simple for you, Dusk: if you hesitate in battle, you will die. Now come. He is attempting to flee and I don't intend to let him."

He coiled shadows around him to follow Grace up to a circular rigging above the room.

Even though Dusk wanted to argue, he couldn't. He knew Doom was right. It was just whether or not he could accept it.

But he couldn't dwell on that right now. Grace needed to be stopped.

Dusk looked around. The others looked like they had things handled. Sombra impaled attackers on crystal and blade. Trixie made use of her cloak's runes and daggers to strike unexpectedly. Ember brawled with claws and burned with fire. Thorax, in his startling new form, was alternating between all manner of creatures to fight.

But the puppets were resilient. They pulled themselves back together after being taken apart, reformed into conglomerate forms of multiple specimens or simply ignored attacks against them. Backed up by the robots, they were still formidable. But if they took Grace out…

Doing his best to ignore the feeling in his leg, Dusk conjured a white cloud to float after Grace while Doom bounded across dark shadow.

The puppet master was waiting for them, atop the platform. Only a metal grated floor stood between them and the drop to the cave floor below. His eyes found Dusk and he grinned.

"I got you, didn't I?" he asked with barely restrained glee. "Just a little bit, but it's enough."

"What?!" Doom snarled at Dusk. "How could you let yourself be struck so easily?!"

"It's fine," Dusk muttered. "I can still fight."

"But not for long," replied Grace whilst shrugging off his cloak, revealing more of his artificial body. "Even with just a smidgen of that potion, you won't have much more than five minutes from the moment it entered your body before it takes full hold."

Dusk brandished his sword. "Then we'll have to make sure this is quick!"

He fired pellets at Grace, making the unicorn separate his body parts to dodge. At the same time, Doom charged like a bull, shadows raging like branches in a violent wind. Grace had to work harder to avoid his blows. Blades sprang out of his legs and zoomed around Doom to stab him in the back.

But Dusk was there before them. He blocked them with his rapier or greaves on his legs. He let one get in close, putting his magic into a blue-purple aura to hold it in place. He reached out to do the same with the other when his leg buckled.

He tried to move it. He couldn't. If it wasn't for the fact he was looking at it, he'd think it was no longer there. It was already spreading along his chest.

Dusk yelled when the leg he was holding in his aura broke free and stabbed the leg that still had feeling. The other went around to slash Doom behind the knee of his left rear leg. The dark unicorn yelped, making his attack falter which gave Grace the chance to move away.

"Quite a pair, the two of you!" Crossbows sprang from his legs as his body whirled around. "I should like to have a matching set!"

Dusk conjured a yellow shield but bolts slipped through before he could. Most hit his armour but one got into his side. But it only hurt a fraction of what it should have.

Then Doom threw himself in front of Dusk. He could hear bolts sinking into the darker unicorn's sides. Doom ignored these and sent large orbs of shadow at Grace whilst shielding Dusk with a shadow wall. His face was beaded with sweat and he couldn't stand on his injured leg.

"Brother!" he yelled. "Let's see if we can repeat our feat at the door!"

The brief moral quandary of using his mental power on a pony was swiftly quashed in the case of Grace. Besides, he could already feel the potion moving up his head. It wouldn't be long before it reached his horn.

"You will surrender," the brothers commanded.

The sliver of colour and shadow flittered into Grace. They saw him flinch, his disembodied limbs trembling.

"Oh now that isn't…" He shook his head. "That simply isn't sporting."

They ignored his complaint and tried again. Grace trembled again, no longer looking amused. If they tried it just one more time.

"You will su…" Dusk trailed off. He couldn't channel his magic to his voice. Concentrating with all his might, he shouted, "You will surrender!"

But only Doom's shadow left his mouth. Grace glared at it like it was an annoying fly but he didn't shake and judder. If anything, he seemed to be throwing off the effect of the spell.

"What are you doing?! We can't stop!" shouted Doom.

"I can't… can't…"

But Dusk's voice died in his throat. He couldn't even feel if he still had a throat or mouth. His vision tilted as he fell forward to the grating. He didn't even feel that.

"Dusk! Dusk!" Doom tried to hoist him on his shoulders. "Don't succumb to this poison! If you do, I will never-!"

But what he would do, Dusk never found out. Because Doom let out a violent gasp when something embedded itself in his chest. The blade of Grace's foreleg. Red was already staining his black fur, trickling down the edge of the blade.

Doom tried to pull the foreleg out, but it twisted in the wound, earning a gurgling yell in Doom's throat. He collapsed to his knees, his breathing laboured. Grace removed the blade, then stabbed him again. And again. And again.

And try as he might, Dusk was helpless to stop it. The potion was already moving along the rest of his body. He could still breathe, still see and all his organs still worked. But movement, speech, even magic… he couldn't do a thing to stop what was unfolding.

"On second thought," said Grace, "you're simply too irritating to endure. Even as a puppet, I don't think I could fully reign you in. Disappointing, but oh well."

Doom fell next to Dusk. His slitted, jade eyes met Dusk's green.

"Dusk…" he gasped. "I'm… I'm sorry. I'm… an unworthy brother. I'm not… like you. I… I never was…"

A final rattle escaped his throat. The light faded from his eyes as Blackhole Doom died.