//------------------------------//
// 05: Bad Times at the Andromeda 
// Story: The Rejects: Enemy of the State 
// by Argonaut44 
//------------------------------//

Blazing tongues of fire warped the steel of the warehouse, where the roof had begun to collapse upon itself, feeding the infant inferno. The fires roared with such ferocity that the ground had begun to shake, and the air itself bled red. 
Starlight Glimmer frantically scoured the rubble around Discord’s outstretched claw, while the rest of him remained buried. She hardly had the strength to lift him, especially while having to dodge the rainfall of ash and burning debris. 
“Discord!” she shouted, coughing up the smoke in her lungs. 
Discord’s claw began to twitch, right as Starlight could feel her vision begin to dim. The smoke seemed to grow hazier, and the fires too, and she found herself floating almost, before tumbling to her knees. 
“Dis…c-” Starlight muttered, as her shoulders fell slack. She fell face first in the rubble, scalding her chest against a shattered sheet of red-hot steel.
Crawling up the rubble, she clasped his claw with her hoof, and her horn began to glow.
In a flash of light, the smoke cleared at once, as did the heat and the fires’ deafening cries. 
Starlight still had a grip of Discord’s claw, and the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in black ash, lying on the street pavement like a squashed insect. 
Starlight’s hooves were shaky, and she could hardly stand, gazing back at the boiling ball of fire across the street. Her horn dimmed, and she gasped for breath, exhausted.
There were flocks of ponies in the street surrounding them, running for cover in every which way. Luna’s carnage had engulfed a good portion of the city, sending ponies fleeing their homes in panicked droves. The city was under attack, some said. The war had arrived. 
Discord coughed, sitting up in a daze.
He glanced over at Starlight, whose eyes were bloodshot, whose coat was stained grey and covered in reddish-black burns. 
“She tried to kill me,” Discord grinned, stretching his back, surprised to find himself still in one piece, “And she really meant it this time!”
Starlight staggered to her hooves, brushing herself off as best she could. Another portion of the building fell into itself, raking up new bursts of burning red flames that lit up the night sky. 
“Are you hurt?” Starlight replied, glancing around the street, where ponies fled from the fires, screaming in terror. She turned back toward Discord, who winced as he picked at his burns. 
But before he could answer, Discord’s eyes widened, and with a flick of his talon, a crumbling mess of debris came flying across the street. Starlight spun around, to see what had caught Discord’s eye. And behind the debris, there stood a pony, a snow-white stallion with a charcoal-black mane, cut short. He had black bags beneath his eyes, and was clad in a black suit and tie.
“What have we here?” Discord cooed.
The pony gritted his teeth and reached for the pistol in his belt. But raising up the weapon, he found it had already been transformed into a candy dispenser, a stick of pink plastic filled to the brim with chewy gummies. The pony threw it to the ground and reached for his belt again, this time drawing a knife. But, once the blade had been drawn, he found it replaced by a carrot.
“Damn you!’ the pony yelled. 
Discord soon had him hovering in the air, immobilized in a cloud of red magic.
Starlight approached him, narrowing her eyes.
“I know you,” Starlight said, searching her memory, “You’re one of Alias’ errandboys. No?”
“Eight Ball,” he introduced, “You caught us by surprise. You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,”  Starlight replied, “And sorry about your headquarters, too.”
“He’s one of your friends?” Discord asked.
“He’s from the Erased’s detail of dimwits,” Starlight said, glancing at Discord, “Discord, find us somewhere more private. We need to get out of the open. Police will be here soon.”
Discord nodded.
“And him?”
Starlight nodded. If the Erased had possession of Luna, there was reason to believe they might have Celestia stowed away somewhere too. Alias knew all along. He kept this all from me. She was not sure she was surprised. 
Discord snapped his claw, and the three of them disappeared in a flash of light.
The world returned on the roof of an abandoned building, stuck in a shadowy corner in the center of the city. Below, clotheslines held yesterday’s laundry, bathing in the orange light that poured out from apartment windows. Faded scarlet paint ran up the ranks of the building, where Starlight stood by the edge, hastily searching the alleyways below for prying eyes.
Discord took a seat right in the air, clearing his throat and chewing on a green apple he had summoned to his teeth.
Starlight Glimmer had finished checking the fire escape for any lurking trails, before joining the others on the roof. 
“You won’t escape her,” Eight Ball said, “I suppose just one alicorn wanting you dead wasn’t enough.”
“How long have you been in the city?” Starlight asked.
“Less than a month,” Eight Ball said, “Clever trick, those clones of yours. I was wasting my time following them for hours.”
“Trixie, my friend. Is she safe?”
“She works for Alias now, is what I heard. Went behind his back, sent Cadance’s letter to the press. Your friend’s the one who started the war, I’m afraid.”
Starlight’s eyes widened. She was not sure whether to be proud or horrified. Trixie?
She was frightened by the thought of Trixie standing up to Twilight, though relieved as well; she always knew Trixie had it in her. 
“He’s more talkative than I’d have expected,” Discord chimed, “He must expect us to let him go.”
“Nothing I’ve told you is particularly confidential,” Eight Ball said, sneering at Discord.
“In that case…” Starlight said, “Luna. Why was she locked in a box in your basement, and what was she hooked up to?”
Eight Ball scowled.
“It doesn’t matter. The project is ruined now that you’ve set her free.”
“Then it won’t trouble you to tell us the truth,” Starlight said, “...If there’s something you can tell us that can help us calm her down, it would save Equestria from a great deal of tragedy. As far as I could tell, her warpath isn’t exactly finished.”
“No, I think not…” Eight Ball said, glancing at the ground, “....We captured Luna not long after the murders in Ponyville. I’m not aware of exactly when, how, or where. But I do know why. The Chief intended to harvest her alicorn magic, use it to power a new superweapon, something that could even the odds against Twilight.” 
Starlight glanced at Discord, who seemed interested in the prospect.
“Fight fire with fire,” Starlight said, incredulously, “These experiments, were you successful?”
“We infused the first batch of magical extract into eight of our test subjects. None survived the procedure, except one. But it escaped. For a year now, we’ve been trying to achieve the same results, but none of our efforts have been successful. Chief put me in charge here, hoping to change our fortune.”
“You ponynapped Princess Luna and turned her into a living battery for your twisted tests?” Starlight stammered, horrified.
“We had no real weapon to use against Twilight. The Chief was going to try harvesting your magic at some point as well, before you ran away.”
“Of course,” Starlight said, rolling her eyes. She wouldn’t have expected less.
“The two of you are in more danger than you realize,” Eight Ball said, “The magic inside Luna, it’s entwined with her nervous network. Each time we poked and prodded, we effectively split her mind into smaller and smaller fragments. She’s unstable. Erratic. As long as she’s on the loose, Equestria won’t be safe.”
“We’re going to have to find her first,” Discord said.
“That won’t be so hard,” Starlight said, “Odds are she’ll come looking for us anyway. We might just ha-...”
Starlight meant to continue, until her ears picked up a thin screech, frail and miniscule like a faraway shattering of glass. Starlight’s face turned pale, and she slowly glanced up to the night sky.
“Stay right next to me!” Starlight whispered to Eight Ball and Discord, igniting her horn. 
“Speak of the devil,” Discord laughed. 
The shrieking sound grew in volume, until Discord could hear it as well. On and on it went like a wailing siren, barreling toward the earth like a meteor. 
Starlight could hear the devastating impact, long before the clouds of dust began to waft out through the night. 
Luna had come, stalking out from the crater she had left on the rooftop concrete, her horn glowing a violent shade of blue. A black madness twinkled in her eyes, like some rabid animal. She was a fallen angel then, bleeding blue fire, vengeance incarnate. 
Luna’s face was painted red with blood. Whose was it, Starlight wondered. What’s happened?
Starlight could see the remnants of the steel studs that had been stuck into Luna’s nerves and marrow, crude cavities left exposed to the heat of the night.
Her breath was a hurricane. Her glare was a vacuum, twisting the night sky surrounding her, spinning her silhouette into a haunting, twisted shape. 
She turned to face Starlight, with a face full of rage.
“There you are.”


The sky was as black as the walls of Canterlot below her, smothered in ash and smoke. The rain fell soft and steady, muffling the soldiers’ march and darting down the corridor moonglass. 
Rarity found the palace a storied horror at night, with its winding passageways scarcely lit by torches, and its towering spires that loomed and lurched like a kraken’s tendrils. A fortress of twisting turns and razor-edged ramparts, the palace was cluttered with attendants, soldiers, officers, and government officials, all of them milling about in desperate droves, taking shelter from the rain. 
But Rarity had escaped them all, following a marble stairwell up to the main hall, and beyond, the throne.
After a tedious day of hearings and conferences, Rarity expected to find Twilight in a state of exhaustion, which might work to her benefit. She could hear her own heavy breathing. She had spoken to nopony. From time to time she glanced over her shoulder, to see if she was being pursued. She would be, soon enough. Her persistence would sooner appear as a cause for suspicion, than any simple gesture of friendship. 
Before she could confront the throne room gates, she considered one last time if she would be wiser to turn around, and flee the city as Trixie had insisted countless times. Rarity scoffed. Trixie was as much a coward as she had always been, only now the repercussions would be tenfold in their severity. 
Rarity opened the gates in a graceful motion, slipping inside. The air turned colder, and the torchlight that poured out from the grand chandeliers burned dimly like a dull furnace. 
There was a strange silence there in the throne, a hollow reflection, a face full of disbelief. 
“Rarity?” Twilight gawked, her eyes widening in shock. 
Rarity smiled, and pranced over further down the hall.
Twilight was not alone, surrounded on either side by two of her royal guards - the raven-maned Venger and and the grizzly Grey Wick. 
“I pray I haven’t interrupted anything, darling,” Rarity said, “I only wanted to check in on you.”
Twilight smiled, and seemed to relax slightly.
“I’m glad to see you,” Twilight said, “...I’ve been worrying about you, and Rainbow and Applejack, Pinkie and Fluttershy. I can’t stand not knowing whether you’re all safe.”
“We’re as safe as can be, I think,” Rarity confirmed, “Though it’s true, ponies fear for their lives.”
“They have good reason to,” Twilight said, shaking her head, “I’m the one who did this to them. Who led them all astray.”
“Don’t say such nonsense,” Rarity chided, “Ponies still believe in you. You are our princess.”
Twilight smiled, half-heartedly. 
“And do you trust your princess?” Twilight beckoned.
Rarity took a step closer.
“We would follow you to the end, Twilight,” Rarity said.
“The end,” Twilight repeated, bemused, “...There is nothing I wouldn’t give to return home. Before the crown, before the castle, before these wings. When it was the six of us, and Celestia, and Sp-” Twilight began, before shutting her eyes in despair.
“...Spike,” Rarity continued, “I had been meaning to ask about him. He’s never gone more than a day without bothering me. Is he alright?”
Twilight sunk into the cold embrace of her throne, and her face turned sour-purple again. 
“...We are all being stretched thin, these days. Spike has been busy helping me. I’m sure he’ll find a chance to see you soon,” Twilight said, with such conviction she had almost come to believe it.
Rarity nodded, understanding. 
“I wish you would leave the city, go somewhere safe,” Twilight advised, “Everyday it seems I lose another friend.”
Rarity glanced at the ground.
“...That would remind me - I know it’s none of my business, and…I understand the severity of Cadance’s crime. But I had hoped to speak to her, perhaps guide her back to reason.”
Twilight eyed her.
“I have tried as much, relentlessly. But she is fickle, spontaneous. I fear some darkness has overcome her, one I have yet to understand fully. You could not see her, anyway. She’s being relocated south to the Ghostfort. It’s much too dangerous to keep her locked up here in the palace.”
“Ah,” Rarity said, nodding her head.
“Your highness,” came Wedge Ward, marching in through the ajar throne room doors.
Twilight struggled to pull her eyes away from Rarity, until she caught sight of the creature Wedge was escorting.
“Ah, Callidus! Come in.”
Callidus, a yellow-green changeling with reddish horns and deep purple eyes, had come sauntering in, taking little care to bow to the princess.
Wedge glanced at Twilight, hesitant to leave her alone with the changeling.
Twilight’s eyes darted over to him, narrowing.
Wedge gritted his teeth and complied, trudging back out through the throne room doors.
“Princess,” Callidus said, though his eyes were locked onto Rarity.
Twilight glanced at Rarity, and supposed she might as well speak plainly.
“Rarity is a trusted friend of mine. You mustn’t worry.”
“As you wish,” Callidus replied.
“You did well, the last time I made use of your services,” Twilight said.
“A job well done, yes, but done in vain. I caught your runaways. Now they’ve all escaped, I heard,” Callidus reminded.
“They did. And I am quite confident that one of, if not all of them, are responsible for Cadance’s letter reaching the press. Though it is quite a tricky thing - to have gotten their hooves on that letter, they would have had to have a pony on the inside. A creature who could take the form of anyone, perhaps. One prone to playing both sides.” 
Callidus laughed.
“If I was your betrayer, why would I answer your summons now? I’d already have ruined you, I would have fled to the west already, retired to some island in blissful exile.”
Callidus meant to bellow out some more taunts, before a ring of purple magic had manifested around his neck, crushing his throat closed.
Twilight lifted Callidus into the air, where he began flailing about, gasping for breath. Spit foamed up at the edges of his mouth, as his eyes began to turn bloodshot.
“I am by no means ruined, you craven cutthroat. And do well to remember - those who come to me in deceit, will remain in death. Nothing escapes me. No - if a rat dies in Old Harbor, I hear of it,” Twilight giggled, “So be assured. If I should have the slightest concern of treachery….I will tear off those pretty purple wings and hang them from the western spire.”
Twilight released Callidus, who came crashing down to the ground, gasping for breath.
“Sunset Shimmer….Trixie Lulamoon….Lightning Dust, Bon Bon, Suri Polomare. My contact in the Erased has indicated one of them is a collaborator.”
Rarity’s eyes widened. She has a spy in the Erased. It would not take long to discover Trixie.
“Find which one of them obtained the letter, and find out how,” Twilight continued, “Bring any and all suspects to me, alive. If you complete this task without incident, your reward will be triple what you were given last time.”
Callidus climbed up to his hooves, wiping the spit from his mouth, pawing at the red mark left around his neck.
“Understood, Princess.”
Rarity trembled, especially when Callidus’ eyes passed over her. 


Miles crashing by, tear gas and bullet casings slipped between blinks of red and blue. The air was poison, and the ground growled beneath their hooves. Canterlot was a second sun, staining the land fire-red, coughing up smoke to block out the stars. 
Moon Dancer’s carriage was still intact for the most part, with the exception of some brick-dents and scratches, and some engine damage. She had followed Sunset’s instructions, taking a dirt path higher up into the mountain rise, parking on a wide part of the ridge by the city outskirts. 
The shadow of the mountain held them in its grasp, 
Wallflower Blush was still clad in her lacy blue gown, covered in burns, bruises, and glass cuts. Lightning Dust had fared the worst, boasting a black eye and a new ache in her hind leg. Suri was still trembling, recalling the rioters’ wrath. 
They had all escaped the carriage in a state of exhaustion. Sunset was the only one who could manage to stand up straight, and was somewhat amused to find they were not the only ones to have found refuge here.
“Bon Bon,” Sunset said, sauntering over towards the small campsite that Bon Bon had set up.
“Figured we’d rendezvous at Plan B,” Bon Bon said, “You all got out OK?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Suri muttered, crawling her way to the campsite, before planting herself on top of a mossy brick wall, groaning, “I think I’ve cracked a nail.”
“Should I call the hospital or the spa?” Lightning smirked. 
“Sunset,” came another pony, Kickstart, who had been sitting by the fire, opposite to Scootaloo, whose face was half-covered in ash.
“Where the hell have you two been?” Sunset asked.
“Getting some fresh air,” Kickstart said, “Mandola sent me off to steal back some powder kegs from the Thieves. She wasn’t supposed to come along, but…”
Scootaloo smiled, chewing on a carrot.
Lightning and Wallflower joined them, sitting on some of the rocks facing the fire.
Kickstart’s eyes lit up at the sight of Wallflower in her dress, much to Lightning’s chagrin.
He noticed Lightning next, and reached for something in his bag.
“I stopped by Mandola’s on the way out,” Kickstart said.
He revealed Scampers, the rat, and Lightning cried out in relief.
Scampers too seemed ecstatic, wriggling free of Kickstart’s grip and scurrying over to Lightning.
“I brought bread too, but he ate it all,” Kickstart said.
Lightning’s eyes darted back up to him.
“Thank you,” Lightning said, beaming while holding the rat against her chest. 
Behind her, by the carriage, Moon Dancer’s frantic tinkering made itself known. 
“This will take me weeks to fix!” Moon Dancer barked. 
Sunset ignored her and turned back to the others.
“I’ve got good news. I know how we can pay off our debt to Mandola,” Bon Bon said, “Downtown, all the bad apples are gathering in one place. Some underworld den of depravity, is what I heard.”
“Hm. Why weren’t we invited?” Suri asked.
“What of it?” Sunset asked.
“There’s an auction going on. Millions of bits on the line. Everypony in Equestria wants it.”
Sunset nodded.
“That sounds familiar,” Sunset said.
“How do you mean?” Bon Bon asked.
“....Moon Dancer was right.”
“Shocker!” Moon Dancer laughed from inside the hood of the carriage.
“Fancy Pants and the ponies he works for - they were the ones who snuffed out our dearly departed Razor Blade. They’re the ones on our trail. He was freaked out about something, too, a project. Twilight is involved with it somehow. That’s what the auction is for.”
“Did he know what it is exactly?” Bon Bon asked. 
“No. But he knows a pony who does.”
“Alright! I hope they’re in a talking mood,” Lightning grinned, catching a punch with her hoof.
Sunset’s eyes centered in on Lightning.
“I’m glad you think so, kid. Because this one’s yours.”
Lightning’s eyes widened.
“Really?” she grinned.
“Yeah. His name’s Fire Streak, he works at the Wonderbolt Academy in Cloudsdale.”
Lightning’s smile fell off her face. The words made her skin turn pale, and her eyes twitch. 
“The…Wonderbolt Academy?” Lightning repeated.
Sunset raised an eyebrow.
“That’s what I said. What’s the matter?”
“I…uh…I don’t know, Sunset, that’s…”
Sunset sighed.
“Kid, we’ve only got three pegasi. One’s a cripple, one’s a foal, and-”
“The other is a moron,” Suri laughed. Wallflower promptly jabbed her in the side, glaring at her. 
“They’d recognize me,” Lightning realized, relieved to have found an excuse, “And I don’t think the Wonderbolts are keen on lending me any favors.”
“This little project of Twilight’s…if it turns out to be something serious, we can’t pass off on a chance to find out more,” Sunset said.
Lightning bit her lip, glancing at the ground. 
“What are you so afraid of?” Suri asked. 
“I…They…I don’t know, I just…”
Sunset shook her head.
“You’re always begging for a chance to see some action,” Sunset said, narrowing her eyes, “Now I give it to you, and you get cold hooves? Really?”
Lightning’s eyes flashed up towards Sunset.
Like you care what I think, Lightning wished she could say. But the words never left her lips. 
“There’s more important things we could be doing than getting the better of Twilight,” Wallflower said. 
Sunset sighed, glaring over at Wallflower.
“We weren’t the only ones out for trouble at the Gala,” Wallflower said, “Radio alerts are all saying the same thing - the hippogriff princess has been kidnapped.”
“How’s that our problem?” Suri said, picking at her hooves.
“Don’t you want a chance to get our good names back? She’s just a kid. We should help her.”
“We’ve already ripped off the band-aid, haven’t we?” Suri laughed, “Equestria’s made up their minds about us already. What’s the point in going back?”
“You did good back there at the Gala, Wallflower,” Sunset said, “I’ll give you that. But we’ve got a lead now. A real lead. These rich schmucks don’t want us to get our hooves on this project, and I’d bet Twilight doesn’t either.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Wallflower said, while Lightning struggled to speak up on her own behalf, “She can’t just sneak into the Academy and shake the guy down. It’s a death trap.”
“No…No, I’ll do it,” Lightning said, lifting her eyes off the floor. 
Sunset glanced over at her, surprised. 
“If it’s what you think is best, I’ll do it,” Lightning said. 
Wallflower glared at Sunset, disappointed. 
“That-a girl,” Sunset smiled.
“Then I’m going too!” Scootaloo insisted.
“Absolutely not,” Lightning shook her head. 
“Spitfire and all the Wonderbolts know me. And they don’t know I’m helping you. I could distract them.”
“I’ll tag along too,” Kickstart said.
“No, you shouldn’t, what about-”
Kickstart glared at her, and Scootaloo promptly bit her tongue. 
“Find out who these ponies are and what they want with us,” Sunset instructed, “And don’t make too much of a mess.”
Lightning sprang up to her hooves. Wallflower glanced at her.
“Are you sure about this?” Wallflower asked, “I’d come too, if I could fly.”
Lightning smiled.
“You snuck into the royal palace, drank champagne ten yards away from Twilight Sparkle. You’re a lot braver than me, y’know.”
“Just…be careful, please,” Wallflower said.
Lightning leaned in for a hug, Wallflower’s curly locks sliding over her shoulder. 
“No promises.”


Red light revealed the derelict den of dollar-dolls, smothered in smog and doused in acid rain. Jets of steam were stained green, blue, and deep purple, while broken needles came sprinkling from fire escapes.
Staring into the rotting abyss, Blondie had the beginnings of a grin wrapped around his cigar. 
This place felt like home.
The howling Canterlot Express had left the station, some ways away, coughing up clouds of black. Below, over narrow bridges molded in moss and shattered street lamps, crooked figures lurked in long coats, dragging their hooves through puddles and sticking to the edges of the shadowy depths. 
There, in the bowels of the city, Blondie recalled the names of these roads, from buried memories. He made no sign of it, however, and had allowed Salt Shaker to lead the way, through crowds of sunken faces and yellow eyes, through lavender mists and cannibalized police cars. 
Rainbow Dash had hoped to find Canterlot a familiar haven, and was sorely disappointed to find herself venturing down this side of town. 
Scampering across oil-slick sewer grates and sidewalk grime, Rainbow caught up to Blondie, when the scent of fresh bread caught her nose.  
Mandola’s, read the sign on the bakery, and she struggled to pass by the allure.
She kept up with Blondie, however. She had a feeling this was a bad place to get lost.
Blondie pushed his way through a small crowd of teenagers, with Rainbow right on his tail.
They found Salt Shaker on the side of the road, laughing with some short stallion by a lamppost. 
The stallion had a jet black mane and a heavy brow, with a cat’s scratches decorating his face. 
The stallion noticed Blondie and Rainbow as they approached.
“These friends of yours?” he asked.
“Yours now too,” Salt said, ushering Blondie to be friendly, “Blondie, Miss Wonderbolt, this is Speedy, an old buddy of mine.”
Blondie narrowed his eyes, unsure why Speedy seemed so fixated on him, and him alone. Speedy too seemed unsure of himself, as if he recognized the stallion from somewhere.
“Bad time to visit,” Speedy said, glancing back to Salt, “Downtown’s been overrun with rioters. Gotten so bad that the cops haven’t paid us a visit for two days. They’ve got their hooves full up there.”
“We don’t plan on staying long,” Salt said, “Nor would we want to cause any scene.”
Speedy shook his head.
“You always say that. All good intentions and fancy talk, then you’ve got double-digit body counts and twice as many enemies as you had yesterday. Whatever you’re up to, keep me out of it,” Speedy croaked.
“I can’t help ponies who lack a capacity for cooperation,” Salt said, shrugging.
“Word’s reached us of what you’ve been up to in Manehattan. Trench is dead because of you, is that right?” Speedy said.
“Don’t give him all the credit,” Blondie chimed, taking the cigar out of his mouth.
“The Underground’s been sent scattering,” Salt said, “That’s one less problem to deal with. You’re welcome.”
“Some Undergrounders just bit it a couple weeks ago, a few blocks from here. We had all thought it was you.”
Salt Shaker shook his head.
“Perhaps our actions in Manehattan proved to be inspirational,” Salt grinned, “Ponies aren’t so afraid of the Underground anymore.”
“Yeah, pat yourself on the back, big shot,” Speedy said, “Except now the Black Hoof’s got no competition. Crozer owns Manehattan, through and through. Sooner than later he’ll be running these streets too.”
“He’s been this way?” Salt asked, his smile fading. 
“No, but his boys have. They were searching for you, as a matter of fact. Said if you don’t bring him what you owe before the Summer Sun Celebration, you’re dead meat,” Speedy said, “I don’t know what you did to piss him off, but it worked.”
Rainbow glanced at Blondie, recalling the threats Crozer had made. Fluttershy. Pinkie Pie. Her teammates. 
“That’s two weeks from now,” Salt said, failing to convince himself there was nothing to worry about. 
“What’s he want with you?” Speedy demanded.
“We had an arrangement,” Salt said, “We’re looking for a pony, calling herself Menteuse. Blondie here tracked her down to this district. Where is she?”
Speedy glanced back at Blondie, disturbed over how Blondie could have possibly discovered that information.
“The briefcase!” Speedy said, lowering his voice, “That’s what this is about?”
“Crozer wants to sell it for a profit,” Salt explained.
“So do we,” Blondie added.
“Good luck with that,” Speedy laughed, “You and Crozer both. She’s built up quite the operation, these past weeks.”
“Does she still have it?” Rainbow demanded.
“She does,” Speedy confirmed, “That little girl’s stolen every customer the Black Hoof and Underground ever had. She’s auctioning that damned thing off to the highest bidder. The price is at five million bits. That’s twice as much as four days ago.”
“Crozer’s going to burn down all of Manehattan, if he’s beaten by that girl,” Salt laughed, “I’d almost like to see that.”
“Where can we find her?” Blondie asked.
Speedy snickered.
“My mistake. I wasn’t under the impression you had five million bits to spare. This game is bigger than the likes of you, Salt. The richest creatures in Equestria and beyond are all gathered here. This is out of your league.” 
Speedy continued laughing, until he noticed the blank expressions on the others’ faces.
“....Oh, Salt. Don’t try it.”
“We came a long way,” Salt smiled, “We’d appreciate some help, for old time’s sake.”
“Ha!” Speedy bellowed, “This girl’s got security. Defectors from the Underground and Black Hoof. Ex-royal guards. Half of them think of her as a daughter, and the other half want to split her sideways. Either way, they’re devoted to her. She treats ‘em better than those Manehattan kingpins ever did.”
“Where’s the auction?” Blondie asked.
“The old speakeasy on Constitution. Andromeda. You can’t get in unless you’re on the list, which, I will assume, you’re not.”
“You can get us on that list though. Can’t you?” Salt said.
“Of course I can,” Speedy insisted, “But you’ll have to find someone else stupid enough to run that kind of risk. If you get caught, you’re dead. One mistake is all it takes.”
“That’s why it has to be you,” Salt grinned, “You once told me you’re allergic to mistakes.”
Speedy narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t owe you a thing.”
“No, you don’t. But say my bid pays off at the end of all this. I might just have a few million bits to share with an old friend, who would otherwise remain here with empty pockets.”
Speedy smiled, and shook his head, amazed at the Salt’s boldness.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Speedy said, laughing at himself, “...I can get you inside. But just them too. You’d be recognized, Salt. You would stand a foot taller than everypony else in the room. These two just need a few adjustments, and they might make it in unnoticed. Might, as you will. I’ll make no promises.”
“And I’ll ask for none,” Salt said, exchanging his hoof for Speedy to shake.
Speedy approached Blondie and Rainbow, who shared a look of uncertainty.
“Welcome to high society.”


Of all places, why here?
	Trixie scowled to herself, sipping at her second mug of cheap cider, burying herself deeper in the dark edges of the tavern corridor. Her disguise seemed pointless - that night, few ponies could even stand up on their own, let alone recognize her as a national fugitive. The wooden ceiling rafters glowed orange by the chandelier, swinging ever so slightly in the stormy draft. Rain came teeming down in a misty tide, obscuring the cobblestone streets outside in a hazy veil. 
Trixie made her best effort to remain calm. She was right out in the open, exposed, for the first time in what felt like years. Faces were no longer familiar, and neither was the trembling sensation in her own heart, which was beating faster than it ever had before. She could not suffer her own charades, not now. This was real. She could not run away, either, no matter how tempting that may have seemed. She had signed up for this, she recalled. Starlight would have done the same, if their places had been exchanged. She was sure of it. And the thought gave her comfort, as if she was not quite as alone as she believed.
The bustling tavern crowd seemed to grow rowdier with each passing minute. A pony’s tail whipped against Trixie’s shoulder, forcing her to spill a quarter of her drink on the table.
Trixie growled and considered giving the boorish oaf a lesson in manners. She settled on digging back into her bread and cheese. 
Across the room, Trixie spotted a new pair of eyes in the dark, glaring right toward her. Balding and covered in filth, he had his hoof over his mouth, eyeing her from his back-corner booth. 
Trixie continued chewing her food, and her eyes drifted over to her left. There was another pony, leaner than the first, bearded with a bug’s eyes, wild and bulging out from his skull. 
Trixie felt her throat close up, and she set her piece of bread down on her plate. 
She sat patiently, while the bald pony to her right rose up from his seat. The lean pony did the same, lurching over to avoid hitting his head on the wooden banister. 
Trixie leaned back in her chair, and, with chattering teeth, tried her best to focus on the right spell. Turn to ice? She was rusty with that one. Teleport? Not a chance, she could rarely get that one right, especially under pressure. The chair leg. What? Break the chair leg off. Swing it into their skulls. Trixie laughed at how ridiculous the idea sounded. But she was too terrified to cast a proper spell. Improvisation would have to suffice. 
She slowly pushed her seat back, preparing to jump out and rip the leg off the chair. 
But she was caught by surprise by a third figure, this one approaching her head-on, seating themself opposite to her at her table.
Trixie’s eyes widened, and she slowly sat back up in her chair. 
“Mind if I join you, darling?” came Rarity, clad in a tan-colored coat. Her navy mane was hidden in a wide-brimmed hat.
Rarity reached for a passing waitress, while Trixie stared on in disbelief.
“I’ll have the same, my dear,” Rarity beckoned.
Trixie glanced around the tavern, watching as the lean stallion stared on with a bloody glare, before easing back over to his booth. The balding stallion had disappeared entirely.
Trixie gave a great exhale and lowered her head, exhausted.
Another pony joined them at the table. He was the crystal guard Rarity had saved, Starbuck, sporting a buckball cap and a bomber jacket. 
“My apologies for the delay. The city is a labyrinth of police tape now,” Rarity muttered.
“I’m taking a big risk coming out here like this,” Trixie reminded, “So whatever you wanted to tell me so bad, it had better be important.”
Rarity nodded, smiling to herself.
“Cadance’s letter seems to have gotten under Twilight’s skin. She’s frightfully volatile these days. Anxious, distant, vindictive. I do believe she’ll begin making mistakes she would not have otherwise made.”
Trixie nodded, glad to have stuck one back to her nemesis.
“But this has come at a cost. To you and your friends, in particular,” Rarity said, “She’s sent her assassin to find you. He’s a changeling, I fear, so you ought to be more suspicious of those close to you.”
“Including you?” Trixie asked.
Rarity sighed.
“I take no joy in betraying my friend. But I fear this war, this madness will be the ruin of all. If we don’t do something, Twilight will be glad to rule over the ashes.”
“We told the world the truth. Beyond that, I’m not sure how much help we can offer.”
Rarity grinned.
“That would take me to my second piece of information. Princess Cadance - she’s no longer being held in the palace dungeon. She’s been transferred out of Canterlot, south to the Ghostfort. Twilight said as much herself.”
Trixie glanced at Starbuck, who seemed to have perked up at the mention of Cadance’s name.
“You want me to rescue Cadance?” Trixie asked, stunned. 
“Your bungling bunch of spies has been compromised,” Rarity said, “Twilight has a spy in their midst.”
Trixie scoffed in disbelief.
“If that’s true, I should let Alias know,” Trixie said.
Rarity shook her head.
“You can’t risk letting them track you down,” Rarity said, “Twilight knows about you, don’t you understand? She’ll use whatever means possible to take you in, dead or alive. But Cadance must be freed. If she can join the fight, Twilight will be overwhelmed, she’ll have to sue for peace.”
Trixie sighed, unsure of the risk.
“I….I can’t do it on my own.”
“You won’t,” came Starbuck, to Rarity’s chagrin, “I’ll help her. I swore an oath to protect Cadance, and to that end I’ve failed. If I may redeem myself, I will.”
He glanced at Rarity, before centering in on Trixie, “Your spy friends can’t be trusted. Somepony’s got to do it. So why not us?”
“I…” Trixie said, struggling to formulate her excuse.
“Trixie,” Rarity said, grabbing her hoof, “If you do this, we’ll have won the war. We’ll have saved Equestria.”
Trixie sighed, falling back into her chair.
“...There’s no point,” Trixie said, “Without the Erased’s resources, I can’t get out of the city undetected. Especially with a changeling assassin hunting me down.”
Rarity bit her lip, puzzled. Then Trixie’s eyes widened, before she tried to compose herself.
“What is it?” Rarity asked.
“I….No, it’s stupid.”
“What’ve you got?” Starbuck said.
“...There are disavowed agents, if I could reach out to them, get them involved, we could get out of Canterlot without getting caught.”
Rarity beamed, ecstatic.
“Splendid! I always knew you had one or two good ideas,” Rarity said.
“...I’ll do it,” Trixie managed, “On one condition.”
Rarity’s smile faded.
“Whatever could it be?”
“You need to get out now, Rarity. Go back to Ponyvile, go back to Sweetie Belle. Then disappear. Make it so you can’t be found,” Trixie instructed.
“Darling, we’ve only just-”
“Twilight will catch on to you, if she hasn’t already. I’m telling you right now, you’ve done all you can. Now you need to cut your losses.”
Rarity sighed, and glanced between Starbuck and Trixie.
“Fine, then we have a deal,” Rarity said, “I fear we won’t see each other for a long while, then. The Ghostfort is a ways away. I suppose I’ll admit, we made something of a team.”
“Yeah,” Trixie said, reluctantly, “Just, stay out of trouble, please.”
“Worry for yourself, my dear,” Rarity sang, “Sooner than later all of Equestria will be after your head.”
Trixie smirked.
“I’m used to it.”


Stormwinds stowed and shuddered in the night, over where the trees trembled and the stars hid themselves away in the void. Jagged, thin feather-strips of grey vapor jetted out past the waning moon, like the claws of some beast reeling in a fresh kill. 
Lightning Dust wiped the condensation off her forehead, crossing another threshold as she ascended up from the thicker collection of clouds below. 
Straps stuck to her harness led to a smaller open-chariot, a rental flight-unit paid for by Suri. Kickstart held onto the railing, alongside Scootaloo, who was bouncing up and down in excitement. Rainbow Dash was bound to be in Cloudsdale, she figured. Regardless of Lightning’s reluctance, Scootaloo knew Rainbow’s enlistment would only help their chances of coming out alive.
Lightning found herself in a state of intense exertion, dragging the golden chariot behind her as she pushed higher and higher into the air. She had been at it for hours already, wheezing through her nose. Months of minimal food intake and a heightened sense of anxiety appeared to have had adverse effects on her physical performance, Lightning kept her complaints to herself, however. She had volunteered for the mission, after all.
She could feel the change in the air, the smell of home. 
She could recall returning home when it was nearly dark, and reaching for the door handle, before coming to an abrupt halt. She heard shouting voices, and remembered what the race official had told her. 
Emergency.
It had taken her an hour to fly home after the race. The loser’s lap, she told herself. 
She took a deep breath and forced herself to put aside the mental unrest she was suffering, on the promise of there being some catastrophe that needed her help addressing.
She swung open the door, catching her father and mother mid-quarrel. 
Her father, Hailstorm, cut himself short, eyeing the filly as the door swung close behind her. 
There was a silence, as her mother wiped away tears and her father seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack.
“...Is everything OK?” Lightning asked, hesitantly. 
Hailstorm almost felt like laughing, before ejecting himself from the exchange, dragging his hooves over toward her, while Stardust shook her head in despair. He was not himself sometimes. That’s what mother would call it. 
“I don’t know what to do,” he muttered.
“What’s going on?” Lightning stammered, confused by her father’s ramblings.
“Are you going to play the fucking idiot, kid? Now?”
“The race?” Lightning asked, terrified. She had half-a-mind to break for the door and run, though she was frozen in place.
“Twenty years. Twenty years your mother and I have worked putting food on this table, and a roof over your head, for you and your sister. It was your choice to join the cadet corps, your choice to take the summer programs. All for you. A small fortune, enough to fix this house, enough to take a vacation, any vacation.”
“Dad, it was just one race,” Lightning said, “I’ll beat that girl next time, I promise!”
Hailstorm shook his head.
“You thought you had something, well, you don’t. Maybe you never did. Maybe I gave you too much credit. Maybe I ran on dumb hope. All that money, down the drain. Those ponies out there, they had to work for what they have. You? You didn’t earn any of it. I gave it all to you.”
“I’m faster than every other one of those ponies! You know that!” Lightning exclaimed, raising her voice, “I just got distracted! It was an accident! Please don’t take me out of the cadets, dad!”
Her father laughed, incredulously.
“Your sister never asked for a thing. But you…I give you the world and you throw it back in my face. Now, you’re done. You hear me? Done. You’re not cut out for this, plain and simple. And your mother and I are done wasting all of this money and time and heartache on you and your fucking fantasies. You’re old enough now to know all this.”
Lightning could not stop herself from breaking down into tears, while her father scoffed.
“Oh, please, save it. Tomorrow I’ll be writing to your cadet commander, and telling them you’re off the team.”
“Dad! Please! Please don’t!” Lightning begged, rushing towards him, “Please! I’m sorry! I won’t let anypony beat me next time! Please give me another chance! Just one more race!”
“I said, save it,” Hailstorm said, sternly, “You think that rainbow girl’s parents would allow mistakes like this to go unpunished?”
Lightning stared at him, and recalled the cheers, and the hugs, and the praise. And her heart hardened. 
“They wouldn’t stop cheering her on,” Lightning said, gravely, “Even when she was in last place they were cheering for her, like she won the world title.” And she quickly came to regret having ever looked down on Rainbow to begin with. Stardust glanced at Hailstorm uneasily. Lightning narrowed her eyes. 
“And the one time I come in second, you give up on me! You-”
The words never left her mouth, when Hailstorm’s hooves came down towards Lightning’s neck.
Stardust was frozen for the first few seconds, while Hailstorm throttled Lightning, running her down against the front door. Her face turned bright red, and her eyes bulged at the sockets, as tears came jetting out.
“What’s the matter with you? What’s the matter with you?” he roared, strangling her with his own hooves.
“Hail, Hail! Stop!” Stardust wailed, struggling to pull Hailstorm off of Lightning.
Lightning trembled under his grasp, helpless as she felt the last bit of air slip out of her lungs. He smacked her across the face, hard enough she felt a tooth loosen. The second time, the tears were practically thrown out from her eyes, and the third, her cheek was smashed into pulp. A black ring was left around the corner of her eye, and blood had begun to leak out of her lip by the fifth blow. 
He finally let go, dropping her to the ground. She frantically caught her breath, between her sobs, reaching for her throat, struggling to even look back up at her father.
“You can keep trying, keep pretending. You and I both know you’re not cut out for this. Do you hear me? You’re done,” Hailstorm said, between rasped breaths, “Don’t bring this up to me or your mother, ever again.”
Stardust hesitated to leave Lightning as she was, sobbing on the hardwood, though Hailstorm quickly had a hold of her, dragging her off to berate her as well. The door slammed behind them as they entered the home office.
Lightning cried out, hopeless, as she staggered up to her hooves, leaning against the door for support.  
She pawed at the red marks left on her neck, which stung slightly from how tight her father’s grip had been. Hanging her head in defeat, she marched toward the stairs to clean herself up.
Up the stairs, and up and up until she was back flying through the sky, over the blue-grey billowing pillars of mist and kaleidoscopic dust. There, the head of the Great Mausoleum roused itself in the night, a storied titan in the sky, peering down on the kingdoms of Equestria below. And somewhere through the haze, by softer, pure-white pillows, virgin spectra came cascading down to the earth, shimmering red, orange, gold, green, blue, and violet. Stray particles of the substance trickled off into the air-current, baptizing the night in prismatic dust.
Lightning could hardly keep her eyes straight, as if the very sight of the city repulsed her. 
Scootaloo, meanwhile, did not have to worry about what feelings the sight of the city might evoke, as she was far too short to see over the railing.
Kickstart recalled Cloudsdale, not only for the buried memories of a childhood forgotten, but primarily for having brought Lightning Dust into his life, and, by extension, a chance to remain hidden from a world who very much appeared to want him dead.
As they flew past the city limits and began drifting between the odd outskirt residence or storefront, it became clear that Cloudsdale had suffered a similar fate to Canterlot - ravaged to the bone by rioters and revolutionaries, leaving the streets barren and store windows boarded up with plywood. 
“Buckle up,” Lightning said, not loud enough for either of her passengers to hear.
Lightning began descending toward a street below, scanning the area for any lurking patrols. 
She glided down toward the ground, allowing the chariot to gently make contact with the cloud surface, before easing to a stop.
Kickstart might have appreciated the warning after all, having nearly fallen out of the chariot during touchdown.
Lightning quickly threw off her harness and ran back to the chariot, inspecting Kickstart and Scootaloo for injury.
“Help me hide this thing away. We’re gonna need it to get out of here fast,” Lightning said, grabbing a hold of the chariot.
“I thought you were supposed to be the fastest pony alive?” Kickstart reminded, grabbing the chariot by the other side.
“I am, when I don’t have to drag you two around with me. Speaking of which, Scootaloo - get out,” Lightning said.
“Sorry,” squeaked Scootaloo, before leaping out of the chariot.
Lightning and Kickstart proceeded to push the chariot over to a nearby alleyway, obscuring it behind a shadowy dumpster.
“We’ve got to find Rainbow Dash,” Scootaloo said.
Lighting scowled, shutting her eyes for a moment before approaching the edge of the alley.
“We have to finish our job here, before we can look for Rainbow Dash,” Lightning said, unable to even speak Rainbow’s name without a vicious cut.
“She’s a Wonderbolt, isn’t she?” Kickstart reminded, “We need her to get inside the Academy to find this Fire Streak.”
“No, we don’t,” Lightning corrected, “Look. Y’know what? Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Is that a good idea?” Scootaloo asked, hesitantly.
“If you wanted good ideas, you shouldn’t have come along with me,” Lightning smiled, “C’mon.”


Scootaloo took a bite out of her hayburger, alongside Lightning and Kickstart, who sat beside her in the cloud carriage, munching in the dark.
Lightning had taken them first to an abandoned car rental near the city limits, jumpstarting one of the old gas-guzzlers that she had taken joy-rides on in high school.
Her first destination was Breezy’s Burgers, open until 3 A.M. 
“Actually, this is pretty good,” Scootaloo said, with a mouthful of food.
“I told ya,” Lightning said.
“Your friend doesn’t treat you so nice, y’know,” Kickstart said.
Lightning glanced at him.
“Sunset’s hard around the edges. But she’s saved my life more than once.”
“She’s got you wrapped around her hoof,” Kickstart laughed.
“Is it so bad that I want to believe she’s not as bad as everypony thinks?”
“You keep trying to be a part of a world that doesn’t exist. A vacuum that sucks you into feeling like-”
“Like what?” Lightning interjected.
“Miserable. All the time. You don’t think I notice?”
“Who isn’t miserable?” Lightning laughed, “Some ponies are just better at pretending than others.”
Kickstart scoffed.
“What happened here?” Kickstart asked.
“What?”
“It’s this city. You can’t stand it. I can tell.” 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lightning growled.
“Just trying to be pleasant,” Kickstart said, “Forgive me for daring to show some compassion.”
“I never asked for your compassion,” Lightning said, before sighing and leaning back against the seat, “...I guess I thought running around with Sunset and Starlight would give me a chance to bury some stuff. Some stuff I’d be glad to forget. But the second I step back here, it all comes back. Every stupid mistake. Every horrible thing I’ve done. This place brings out the worst in me. Every drill sergeant. Every manager. Spitfire. My dad. I guess it’s like…if I don’t think that Sunset can become a better pony, then there’s no hope for me either. And I don’t want to give up. I don’t have it in me to just give up.”
“We’d all want a do-over, if we could get one,” Kickstart reminded, “Don’t worry about Sunset. Worry about you.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Lightning said, before something caught her eye out the windshield. 
“Hey….”
“What is it?” Kickstart asked, leaning forward.
Lightning grinned.
“I had a feeling things would work out.”


High Winds walked out of Breezy’s Burgers with two bags in her mouth, as she sauntered over to the take-off strip. It was a thirty minute flight home in the dead of night, after what had been another grueling day at the airbase.
“Still a double no-mayo?” came a voice from the dark.
High Winds froze in place, and her skin turned pale. She was caught in the parking lot right beneath a street lamp, beyond where the moon was stuck up in the sky. 
“Dust,” she whispered, and her eyes began to widen.
Now, considering their last meeting, High Winds half-expected Lightning to be pursuing revenge of some kind, and was understandably anxious to call for help, or run away, or, at the very least, retaliate.
“Windy,” Lightning said, slowly, hoping to de-escalate.
“You knew I’d be here,” High Winds said, glancing at Scootaloo and Kickstart, who had revealed themselves in the dark, “And you brought friends.”
“Your famous Thursday night-out. How could I forget? Sorry to barge in unannounced, but…We need your help,” Lightning said.
High Winds meant to shout back, and refuse such a ludicrous proposal, before she recalled the last time she and Lightning had met, when she had turned her away and left her to probable peril.
“I’m glad you’re not dead,” High Winds said.
“Yeah, back at ya,” Lightning said, grimly, “Look, I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t important. But my friends think they’ve got a lead that could help us beat Princess Twilight for good this time.”
High Winds stared at her, perplexed.
“Princess Twilight, of whom I am sworn to defend.”
“That’s the one,” Lightning grinned, “Look, we need to see Fire Streak at the Academy. He has information we need. The only problem is getting in.”
High Winds scoffed.
“And what? Am I supposed to play a role in this scheme of yours? Haven’t you got some genocidal rampage to take part in?”
“Windy. I’m serious,” Lightning said, “If you do this, I promise I won’t ever bother you with anything again.”
High Winds glared at her.
“Is that what you think I want?” High Winds asked, “You may hate yourself, that doesn’t mean everypony else does, Dust. I do want you around, just…Not working for a gang of criminal terrorists. Is that so much to ask?”
“They’re my friends, OK?”
“Like you’d know much about friends, right,” High Winds grinned. 
Lightning narrowed her eyes.
“Last I checked, it wasn’t me who ditched her best friend. Or maybe I really don’t know much about friends.”
“What did you want me to do?” High Winds laughed, “I became a Wonderbolt. You didn’t. Sorry it shook out that way.”
“Yeah, you should be sorry,” Lightning said, “What have they done to you? You used to be nice.”
“Nice like you? You just want to use me, just like you always have,” High Winds spat.
“No, I-” Lightning said, before cutting herself short.
High Winds took a breath, and glanced at Scootaloo, and then again at Lightning.
“I screwed you over last time, and I regret it. So I’ll do you one last favor, for old time’s sake. But after that, you and I are square, got it?”
Lightning sheepishly nodded her head.
“I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning, 9:00 a.m,” High Winds said, “Make sure you’re not followed.”
Lightning nodded again.
High Winds sighed and took flight, zipping off into the sky.
Kickstart approached Lightning, whose head was lowered, too ashamed to meet his gaze.


Moonlight had devoured the city. 	
Luna straightened her back, struggling to breathe. She slipped a glance over her shoulder.
“...What madness has overcome you, to be working alongside a creature so vile and void of honor?” Luna muttered, glancing back at the trio of creatures huddled together in fear.
Starlight glanced over at Discord, who was grinning ear to ear.
“I assume you mean Starlight. Well, I-”
“Be silent,” Luna barked, igniting her horn, glowing a brilliant cerulean.
Starlight jumped between them, her eyes opened wide, pleading for calmer heads to prevail.
Luna scoffed and dimmed her horn, still eyeing Discord down from across the roof.
“Luna….You know me. You know I’m a friend,” Starlight said.
Luna’s mouth was trembling, twitching, wavering back and forth. Her hardened glare broke then, and a new memory returned to her. 
“Twilight Sparkle is a murderer,” Luna whispered, “...And who is this? Starlight Glimmer, her loyal pet. I will kill you first. Then this faithless, lecherous monstrosity beside you. And this wretched thing, this stranger, I will kill him third. Then I will find Twilight Sparkle. And I will take her head off her shoulders, feed it to the sun, and bury her corpse in the depths of the sea.”
“Twilight Sparkle is no friend of ours,” Starlight said, “We freed you from your prison. It’s a miracle you’re alive, Princess. You’ve been missing for over a year.”
Luna caught her breath, staring at Starlight in disbelief.
“A year?” Luna replied, dumbstruck. Madness. Madness. It couldn’t have possibly been that long. 
“Luna….What do you remember?” Starlight asked.
Luna grimaced and reached for her forehead, pawing at the scars around her horn like a dog with fleas. 
“A year,” Luna murmured, turning away from Starlight to face past the edge of the roof, “Days ago, they came to me. Ember. Posh Paramount, and the changeling king. They told me of Celestia’s treachery. The crime that has led us all to this hell. They were sure of it. They claimed Twilight Sparkle would stop at nothing to protect Celestia, and in the process turn to madness - that she would rule as a tyrant, as a butcher, as a mad queen.”
Starlight glanced at Discord, while Luna began to quiver.
“I could not betray my sister,” Luna said, “How could they ask that of me? Yet I could not stand in their way, either. It took less than a week for me to regret it, when news reached this city of what Twilight had done. Squashed them all like ants. Who else could have done it? I knew then that they were right. Twilight has gone mad. She has become an enemy of Equestria. I meant to find her, to see the truth of the matter. To have justice. Then I was….I was somewhere else. Touch, taste, it had all gone cold. I was alone, buried. Bound a-and cut and quartered and sewed back together.”
Starlight hesitated, glancing over at Eight Ball, who was ghostly pale. Perhaps Celestia was strung up somewhere in a similar predicament, fodder for some twisted laboratory project. 
“...Celestia…What had she done?” Starlight asked, refocusing her attention on Luna. 
Luna shook her head, as if the mere attempt at recollection caused her great despair.
“I cannot recall much at all. There are only voices, faces obscured. Celestia had left me alone at the mansion for some time. Where has she gone?”
Starlight nodded, distraught to know Luna would be of little help after all.
Luna’s breathing began to change, fiercer and harder and burning with rage. 
“Twilight Sparkle took action first, before I could confront her. She kept me underground, to be tortured and torn apart. This time I have no interest in the truth behind this treachery. She mocks the throne my sister once sat. I will be the one to take Twilight’s head, and restore justice to Equestria.”
Starlight glanced at Discord, who seemed giddy at Luna’s enthusiasm. Neither of them attempted to correct her on who was responsible for her imprisonment. 
“If she was on her way to kill Twilight anyway,” Discord muttered, glancing at Eight Ball, “Why would you want to intervene?”
“Murdering Twilight wasn’t a viable solution to anything,” Eight Ball muttered, “We had to stop Luna from killing Twilight and starting a civil war, so we imprisoned her instead. What would you have done?”
"You'd be better off not knowing," Discord smirked. 
Luna raised her gaze, and her breath drew heavy.
“You say you are not my enemy. But how can I believe such a thing?”
Starlight bit her lip.
“The time will come when I have to face Twilight,” Starlight said, “All of us, together, we may just have the power to stop her.”
Luna glared at Discord, bitterly accepting that he might be of some use.
“But Celestia is still out there, somewhere. We have to find her first, find out what she knows, make sure that she’s safe,” Starlight said.
Luna’s scowl hardened. Celestia was all she had left, all to keep her from the brink. She was not to remain a scornful second sister, no matter the urge to seek honor for herself, to redeem a lifetime in the shadow of the sun. She needed Celestia, despite how much she would prefer otherwise. 
“Help me find my sister,” Luna said, approaching Starlight, “And together we will defeat Twilight Sparkle.”
Starlight nodded, sticking her hoof out. Celestia really was the cause of all this, as Twilight had told her, as Alias had suspected. Luna seemed to think Ember and her allies to be righteous, though Twilight had dismissed them all as vengeful opportunists. But Starlight could not make sense of one thing, remaining. To have murdered them all, would require a stronger rationale than selfless defense of Celestia’s legacy. Twilight may have done well to serve her own legacy, after all, make some concessions and retain her crown. Instead, Twilight opted for the most drastic route. Perhaps she really had gone mad. Or perhaps there was one last piece of information that she lacked.
Celestia would know, wherever she was. 
Starlight glanced back at Luna, still extending her hoof out, hesitantly.
Luna smiled and shook, and a splash of red began to swirl behind her eyes. 


Gutter-rail rain and the screeching of train tracks scrambled in tandem past the black-barred window. A cigarette appeared behind a rowdy red flame, before sauntering over to the pursed lips of a golden-orange unicorn mare, who wore a wavy mane of darker orange. She huffed on the cigarette, once, twice, three times, as her eyes glided over across the hotel room. And there, staring right back at her with wide eyes and a tilted head, was Starbuck. He blinked and turned his head to Trixie, who sat right beside him, smirking with a foolish kind of confidence.
“Simple game,” Trixie said, “Four players. Tech opens the pocket…”
Trixie glanced at the fourth pony in the room, sitting beside Amber at the table. He was Helix, a pale-yellow stallion with a spiky black mane, faded stubble and wild eyes, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. 	
“Thief slips the wallet,” Trixie continued, 
Amber, the unicorn mare, raised an eyebrow.
“Bank?”
“Prisoner extraction,” Trixie corrected.
Amber shook her head in confusion, leaning forward in her seat.
“Who? Where?”
“En route to the Ghostfort,” Trixie said, “High profile target. Royalty.”
Amber turned to Helix, whose mouth was hung agape.
They both glanced back to Trixie.
“Cadance?” Helix asked, dumbfounded.
Trixie was still smirking.
“The princess? The royal princess, like-” Helix continued, before trailing off in shock.
Amber raised her hoof.
“That’s a joke,” Amber laughed, glancing at Starbuck, “Right?”
“No joke,” Starbuck said.
“Is she alive?” Helix asked.
“As of this moment,” Trixie said.
“The ransom?” Helix continued.
Trixie glanced between them, and her smirk grew.
“More than you can dream about. Think about it. You’ll be national heroes. Drowning in gold,” Trixie said, “And Cadance will forever be in your debt.”
Helix took off his sunglasses, rubbing his eyes.
“I don’t know. I just don’t know,” Helix muttered.
Trixie glanced at Starbuck, shaking her head.
“Well this doesn’t sound like the Double Helix I had heard about,” Trixie laughed, “Top infiltration agent for six years. Reckless, efficient, never took a single target back alive. But after that incident in Maretonia, even the Erased didn’t want you. But I want you. This job, you don’t know what you’re missing. The Ghostfort is three walls deep, each four meters thick, seven meters tall. The ground outside is littered with landmines, except for the causeway, which is guarded by rifleponies. At least sixty ponies are on duty at all times. The security system is top grade, second only to Hellhatch.”
“You’re kidding yourselves,” Helix laughed, “Even with the Erased’s software, broad-access, SPU-7s, it can’t be-,”
“Amber can get whatever you need,” Trixie said, glancing over at the mare.
“It’ll take time,” Amber said.
“Time?” Trixie repeated, glancing at Starbuck, “That’s not what the Erased told me about you.”
Amber’s eyes widened, and she turned to Helix.
“Key Processors?” Helix asked.
Amber nodded.
“The new ones, the I-22s?” Helix asked, delighted. 
Amber nodded.
“24 hours,” Amber confirmed.
“And I get to keep the equipment, when we’re done,” Helix added.
“Helix, I think you’re out of excuses,” Trixie said.
A knock at the door took them all by surprise. 
Trixie rose to her hooves, and gestured for the others to remain as they were.
“He’s late.”
Trixie marched over to the door, and swung it open, revealing a brown stallion with a dark orange mane, a scratchy beard, and twitching yellow eyes.
The stallion’s face dropped the second his eyes landed on her.
Trixie had expected as much, dragging him inside and shutting the door behind him.
“You!” the stallion exclaimed, “Sunset’s incorrigible lackey! I should’ve known this was some dreadful ruse!”
“And I thought I was dramatic,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes, “This is Heartburn. He helped my friend once.”
“Doctor Heartburn, if you please,” Heartburn corrected, “What happened to you exactly? Sunset had enough of you?”
“Try the other way around,” Trixie corrected, “Come, sit down.”
Trixie pulled Heartburn along with her to the table. 
“You never mentioned to us that you worked for the Erased,” Trixie said, glaring at him. 
“It was a long time ago,” Heartburn said, “They found my methods to be a tad too…crude. Insufferable dolts.”
“What are you doing in Canterlot?” Trixie asked, suspicious. She recalled Rarity’s warning. 
“Just passing through, as it were, until I got your message. The royals were pestering me for months after I helped you and your friends, I had to get out. Canterlot turned out to not be much better.”
Trixie narrowed her eyes.
“Heartburn, this is Amber, a former professional thief. And Helix, infiltrations.”
“Helix,” Heartburn repeated, “As in, Double Helix?”
Helix nodded. Heartburn eyed him, and sat back in his chair. He hid his grin, and glanced back at Trixie.
“What a collection of heroes!” Heartburn declared, “Magnificent. Now is when you try to convince us why we should risk our lives for some buried treasure eh?”
“The profits come second,” Trixie said, “Our job is to rescue Princess Cadance, which means breaking into the Ghostfort.”
“Ah. Lovely,” Heartburn smiled, “And you’ve suckered in these two devils already? Is that right?”
Amber glared at him.
“I do the job, you get me a clean record,” Amber said, “Right?”
“That’s right,” Trixie nodded.
“And you, my friend?” Heartburn said, glancing at Helix.
Starbuck tensed up on the other side of the table. Something in the way he spoke had changed, and it set him alert.
“Same deal,” Helix smiled, “And a fifth of the profits. I’d be making a foolish mistake to pass up a deal like this.”
“Mm,” Heartburn grinned, “The greater mistake was taking the place of a dead pony.”
Helix’s eyes widened, and he was still frozen by the time Heartburn unsheathed the knife from his belt. 
“Heartb-” Trixie exclaimed, while Heartburn sprang up from the table, sticking the knife in Helix’s shoulder. Helix cried out, collapsing backwards over his chair.
Amber jumped to her hooves and ignited her horn, aiming for Heartburn. But Starbuck stuck himself in front of her, where Trixie soon joined him.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Trixie yelled.
Heartburn smiled ear-to-ear, and glanced down at Helix, who was writhing on the ground, groaning in pain.
“Wait…” Starbuck said, watching as Helix flailed about on the floor. 
Heartburn laughed, watching as Helix’s arm leaked out toxic green blood, staining the hotel carpet. Helix’s voice began to crack, and stutter, and shift into a more nasal, prehistoric screech. 
And the yellow stallion began to convulse, and shudder, until a new shape remained, the bloody exoskeleton of Callidus, yellowish green with red horns and deep purple eyes. 
“Double Helix was killed three months ago,” Heartburn laughed, “Is this some friend of yours?”
“We need to go. His screaming just woke up the neighborhood," Trixie muttered.
“We’re leaving him like that?” Starbuck asked, “He’ll come back for us.”
“Slaughtering him here, it’s distasteful,” Heartburn scowled.
“Starbuck, get them out of here,” Trixie said, “I’ll get our stuff. We’re leaving tonight.”
"And how exactly are we supposed to pull off this stunt without him?" Amber stammered.
Trixie glanced at her, and back to Callidus, who was reeling in pain on the floor.
"We catch Cadance before she they take her to the fort," Trixie said, "Which means we've got no time to waste...Starbuck."
"Sorry," Starbuck muttered, still amazed at the sight of the bloody changeling convulsing on the hardwood. He led a frazzled Amber and a cackling Heartburn out toward the hotel door.
Trixie lingered for a moment, watching as Callidus caught his breath in the puddle of green blood. 
“You won’t reach Cadance,” Callidus warned, “You won’t escape us. You’re all going to die.”
Trixie slung two of her duffel bags over her shoulder, and glanced down at him on her way out.
“You’ll have to catch me first.”


On its surface, the Andromeda was an unassuming place, a blackened-brick remnant of Oldtown Canterlot. But as much as its physical roots ran deep into the city, as did its secondary function, serving as the foremost proprietor of criminal assembly in Canterlot. 
Landing in the cobblestone puddles, the black-roof carriage was a gift of Speedy, who had timed their arrival precisely to coordinate with the changing of the Andromeda’s security detail. 
Blondie stepped out of the parked carriage first. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, and the black bowtie that throttled him by the neck. His black tuxedo jacket fit well for an impromptu costume, as Speedy had enough resources to spare no expense. He was clean-shaven, and sported a shorter haircut as well. 
Blondie helped Rainbow out next, trotting down the carriage steps beside him. Her trademark rainbow mane was of top concern, and, despite Rainbow’s pleas, Blondie had managed to convince her to go through with Speedy’s plan, dying it several shades of blonde. Her style had changed as well, to a tight-tousled, curlier do that rose up in the back.
Blondie glanced at her for reassurance. She was uncomfortable, both with the heels she was stuck in, and with the makeup stuck on her face. 
Blondie gestured for her to follow after him.
He made small glances over his shoulder, making his best effort not to draw suspicion to himself.
They rounded about the alleyway adjacent to Andromeda’s, and continued on past the burning oil drums and decadent cardboard campsites. 
And near the end of the alley, a door led somewhere into the rear of the building, and at the top of the door, a black slab of steel was fixed.
Blondie gritted his teeth and raised his hoof against the door.
One.
Two.
Three. 
Four.
Four knocks, wait two seconds before the last. That’s what Speedy had told him.
Without delay, the black slab of steel slid away from its slot, revealing a pair of eyes, glaring out into the alley.
“Speak,” came the pair of eyes, in a gravelly voice.
“Malus Mendax,” Blondie muttered.
Blondie waited in anticipation, until he heard a series of clicks and bends that sent the door flying open in front of them.
Together they filed inside the elevator compartment, right as the first few drops of rain began to sprinkle into the street. They stood beside the doorpony, a large grey stallion with a shaved head, clad in a three-piece suit and huffing on a cigar.
Blondie kept his composure, while Rainbow began to shift uneasily. Her dress was tight around the waist, and she felt a strange feeling of being trapped, as the elevator sunk deeper into the earth. 
The elevator arrived at the underbelly of Andromeda’s, the lair of golden chandeliers, white tablecloth, dark brick and wooden stages. 
The bar sat in the center of the room, below the greatest of the chandeliers. Round tables were each filled to the brim, sporting bottles of champagne and cognac, candles, and hosts of black suits, white dresses and furs, and cigarette smoke. Waitresses came strutting past in black bow-ties and little else, carrying trays of fresh appetizers and bottles of exotic spirits.
Blondie ushered Rainbow along, fearful that her state of shock would give themselves away.
The floor was packed with ponies, milling about in tight clusters, or else caught up in conversation. With a quick glance, Blondie could tell there were territorial lines already drawn between the different huddles.
The creatures themselves were a chaotic array of black suits, feathered-hats, deep satin gowns and pearl jewelry. Scouring the crowd, Blondie spied a dark red griffin in a suit, tie, and matching black hat, huffing at a cigar and laughing with a group of royal guardsponies. Nearby, there was a mare with a faint golden coat and a bouncy orange mane, bright like the sun. Her mane was half-hidden in a roaring flapper hat, and her navy-blue dress was practically welded to her coat, raised just half-an-inch off the floor. He saw bearded kirins smoking blueleaf from glass-cylinders, and a lanky, stubbly blonde pegasus groping his dance partner, right in sight of the light. 
“Don’t stray too far,” Blondie said.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rainbow cooed, holding onto his foreleg, “Don’t look so miserable. We’re supposed to be in character.”
“Right,” Blondie said, “We need drinks in our hooves.”
“Finally, we speak the same language.”
Together, they made their way to the bar, squeezing in between the crowd. The bartender was a sharp-dressed fellow, young and handsome.
“Scotch. Regal,” Blondie ordered.
“Make it two,” Rainbow added.
Blondie glanced at her. She shrugged, smiling in amusement.
“You’ve been staring longer than usual,” Rainbow muttered. 
“You didn’t make it easy on me,” Blondie replied, before gesturing off into the crowd, “Or on anypony. Those gentlecolts over there haven’t looked away since we walked in.”
“I’d be insulted if they had,” Rainbow said, “You recognize anypony?”
“A few.”
“Ponies I’d know?” Rainbow wondered.
“I’d hope not,” Blondie said, right as the bartender set their drinks down in front of them.
“Excuse me,” came another voice, from the other side of Blondie at the bar.
Blondie turned his head, and froze, catching the sight of the pony in question.
He was an unassuming stallion in a dark purple vest over a white shirt, all hidden underneath a black coat. The pony had a clean-shaven face, soft-white in color. But what caught Blondie’s attention was the missing eye. There was no patch or bandage to hide the disfigurement, as if the stallion wore the brand proudly. A deep red hole sat where his eye ought to be, glaring at him all the same.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” the pony explained, scooting closer on his stool.
Rainbow glanced around Blondie to get a better look at the pony.
“I haven’t seen your faces here before. Come for the bid?” asked the One-Eyed Pony.
Blondie’s breath was staggered and jagged, as he choked up a response, having been caught off guard.
“What gave it away?” Blondie smiled, lifting his glass to his lips. 
The One-Eyed Pony laughed.
“I have, as well. The ponies I work for, they consider it a top priority.”
“We have that in common” Blondie said, “My employer has been fixated over this thing, for years almost. He honored me with the task to retrieve it. My wife here was content to visit Canterlot, as well.”
“Windy Hothoof,” Rainbow introduced, extending her hoof toward the One-Eyed Pony. 
The pony did not speak, opting instead to plant a kiss on Rainbow’s hoof. 
“We should all be good friends. We’ve got worse competition to worry about, other than each other, you see,” the One-Eyed Pony smiled, “Look over there.”
Blondie and Rainbow followed the One-Eyed Pony’s hoof, pointing off to the darkest corner of the basement. There, stood a young changeling, dull turquoise with purple eyes and wings of bright amaranth. He was flanked on either side by royal changeling guards, all twice his size.
“That there, my friends, is Malthos, the pipsqueak prince of the changelings,” the One-Eyed Pony remarked, seemingly eager to share what knowledge he had thus far gathered, “Come to buy the case and make daddy happy.”
“Haven’t they got a war to be fighting?” Blondie asked.
“The case could turn the tide of that war, you see. Don’t worry much about Malthos. He’s not much for negotiations, I reckon. Seen him struggle to hold small talk with the bloody waitress. Imagine that. A future king, who can’t order his own lunch. You’d think he’d go and shapeshift into someone more competent,” the One-Eyed Pony said, laughing at his own joke, “Just thought I’d get the measure of you. You look like a pony I once knew, I reckon.”
Blondie may have followed up on the remark, before another pony joined them by the bar - one who Blondie happened to recognize. 
He was one of Crozer’s ponies, a high-ranking goon in the Black Hoof hierarchy. Hellcat, that was his name. A pink and black stallion with narrow eyes and a sharp jaw.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Hellcat said, eyeing Rainbow Dash with depraved intent. 
“A pair of new faces, hm? Are these friends of yours?”
“They are now,” the One-Eyed Pony confirmed.
Hellcat smiled, eyeing the two of them.
“And you are…”
“Lancer,” Blondie introduced, “This is my wife, Windy. I’m here on behalf of Val Indigo.”
“BioSynth? That’s extraordinary,” Hellcat exclaimed, “What are you doing here? You can’t be from Indigo’s Canterlot office, or I’d know who you are.”
“As it were, he trusted me alone, an old friend, to stake his bid. I intend not to let him down.”
“Ah. I should wish you success, then,” Hellcat said, though his suspicions seemed to remain, “Though I fear all of us will return with empty hooves, all of us except our royal guest.”
Blondie followed Hellcat’s gaze to where Malthos was. 
“He may be pitiful, but his family’s fortune seems to have earned him a spot at the top of Menteuse’s list. He’s her favorite, they say,” Hellcat said.
“Where is Menteuse? I was hoping to introduce myself,” Blondie said.
“Nopony knows. She does have a habit of disappearing. I wish you luck, Mr. Lancer,” Hellcat said. 
 Blondie nodded, and glanced over at Rainbow, whose eyes were pointed toward Malthos.
“Please, both of you, come have a drink with me,” Rainbow offered, leading both the One-Eyed Pony and Hellcat over back to the bar. Neither could refuse such a request, leaving Blondie an opportunity to slip away. 
Blondie gradually made his way through the crowd. He could feel the lingering pairs of eyes. They could see right through him, it felt. Why had they not struck yet? What were they waiting for?
Malthos stood surrounded by six of his changeling guards, armed to the teeth with axes, swords, and spears. Each had an untamed look about them, like the mildest threat may set them off into a frenzy.
“Excuse me, your highness,” Blondie said, standing idle just outside the perimeter of guards.
Malthos, who had been busy scolding one of his guards, took notice of Blondie, and straightened his back, rolling his shoulders back and tightening his jaw.
“What is it?” Malthos replied.
“Forgive me, we haven’t met before. I’m Lancer, an old friend of Menteuse.”
“Is that so?” Malthos chuckled, “I didn’t know Menteuse had friends.”
“I decided to pay her a visit, but I felt compelled to stop and introduce myself. She’s spoken so highly of you, after all.”
Malthos’ ears perked up.
“Er, w-what?” he coughed, “She…Sh-She has?”
“Certainly,” Blondie said, glancing over his shoulder to see if Rainbow had gotten into any trouble. She was busy chatting up the two stallions, much to Blondie’s relief, “In fact, she almost made it sound like this entire bidding war was just a cover so she could earn your friendship.”
“I-I,” Malthos said, turning bright red. 
“I could always help things along, you know, if you’re too busy. I would be glad to do my part, on account of the good work your father is doing.”
Malthos thought of his father, and then of Silver Stream, his soon-to-be betrothed. Could he betray her? Then again, he had yet to swear any vows.
“I would be grateful for your help,” Malthos grinned, “I-I always knew she felt this way. She’s hopelessly desperate. I will leave her well-satisfied, I assure you.”
Blondie glared at him in disgust, nearly losing his composure.
“Of course. I wonder where I might find her?”
“I know the place,” Malthos said, eagerly, “I can take you there.”
Blondie nodded his head.
Malthos frantically shoved his guards out of the way, before waving Blondie along to follow him.
By the bar, Rainbow smiled, triumphantly, and perked up once again to keep Hellcat’s attention.
The One-Eyed Pony had already noticed Blondie speaking with Malthos, and again when the two of them disappeared. He said nothing of it, however. 
Malthos brought Blondie alone with him, weaving his way through a passage leading deeper into the underground lair.
They wound through dimly lit corridors, until coming to a locked door that resembled a cabinet. 
“Through here,” Malthos said, twisting the handle around three times, before swinging it open.
To Blondie’s surprise, the door led through the wall, into a garden courtyard blooming in the virgin nightfall.
“Tell her to find me in my room at 9 o’clock,” Malthos grinned. 
Blondie glanced at him and nodded, and waited for the changeling to scurry away, mumbling to himself all of his plans for the night. 
Blondie’s eyes turned back to the cabinet-door, and he stepped through it, slowly, before landing on the other side. A stone path, leading to the center-fountain, surrounded by a lush bounty of fruit trees, riverbeds, and prickly bushes. 
But he did not notice the night’s breeze, or the cold touch of the stone, or the sound of the trees rustling like crashing waves. 
She appeared different than he had remembered her. 
Without the blood, bruises, and dirt that had once scored her head-to-hoof, Brandy Bow was a convincingly spry young thing, her wavy chestnut mane shining in the blue moonlight, soft like silk. Her cream-colored coat was prim and neat, concealed behind a billowy deep purple dress and a black coat. 
He first found her facing away from him, sitting on one of the benches by the fountain. She seemed to have expected somepony else at first, sparing a quick glance, before her skin turned pale.
She staggered to her hooves, shaky and unbalanced like a newborn fawn. 
“I hadn’t thought you’d be long,” Brandy said.
Blondie approached her, glancing up at the sky above them. 
“Menteuse. On the nose, don’t you think?” Blondie grimaced.
“I had a feeling you’d like it,” Brandy giggled, spinning her hoof through her mane. She grabbed at her glass of rum, gulping it down like water from a desert oasis.
“Would you believe I hate the taste of brandy? Talk about failing parental expectations,” Brandy smiled, “Where are your little friends? The Wonderbolt and the Giant?”
“Close by,” Blondie said, “I was hoping to talk some sense into you, before things get ugly.”
“Things got ugly when you tried to take me back to Crozer,” Brandy said, laughing off his attempt at intimidation, “Now Crozer’s playing by my rules. And you are too. I suppose I owe you a bit of thanks, killing Trench. I had wanted to do it myself, but, oh well.”
“Ponies are willing to die over that briefcase,” Blondie reminded, “You’re putting yourself at the center of everything. It won’t end well.”
“Somepony has to sell the fucking thing” Brandy laughed, “...Nopony’s suffered more on its account than me, if you care to remember. I spent half-a-year trapped in Trench’s dungeon. They were killing me as slowly as they could, and all the while the rest of you sat around and watched.”
“I never stopped trying to help you,” Blondie said, “From the beginning, even when there was nothing in it for me.”
“But there was,” Brandy said, “There are ponies in Canterlot who know about you. About what you used to do. About what you used to be.”
Blondie was at a loss for words, disarmed by her remark.
“You only helped me so that you could bandage up whatever scraps of pride you had left over. How don’t you get it by now? Not everypony is supposed to be a hero, Blondie. You, and me, and Salt Shaker and Crozer? We all end up in the same place, when this is all over. Right now it’s just a race to see who gets there last.”
Blondie clicked his hoof against the table, unsure how to disagree, or whether to even disagree at all.  
“Six million bits, if Malthos wants the case. His pockets run the deepest, and he’s desperate, desperate like a stray dog. He would beg for it if I asked. And who am I to deny him?”
“It can’t end up in the wrong hooves,” Blondie said, sternly.
“I admire how far you’re willing to go, just to lose and lose. You’ve got nothing left, not even a fucking life. They should’ve killed you instead, instead of your slut sister.”
Blondie raised his hoof, approaching her with a murderous rage in his eyes.
“Go ahead,” Brandy grinned, “Kill me and the briefcase will only ever be in your dreams. Look at your face….You want to, so badly, don’t you? You fucking animal. Cruelty is all you know. But guess what, Blondie? I’m not letting ponies like you get away with it anymore. You, Salt, Crozer, you’re all gonna learn what it feels like to be on the other side. To be fearing for your life.”
“You’re no saint either, kid,” Blondie said.
“No,” Brandy said, “And it’s about time more ponies understood that.”
As if to punctuate her sentence, a new bout of commotion from inside put Blondie back on alert.
He glanced back to Brandy, who still had a grin on her face. 
Blondie’s eyes darted back and forth, while Brandy finished the rest of her rum.
“You’re coming with me,” Blondie said.
Brandy smiled.
“Then come and get me.”
Blondie took a deep inhale, and stormed off toward her.
He reached straight for her neck, though Brandy was quicker, darting lower to the ground and swinging her legs against his. He caught himself before he could fall flat on his face, though he could not defend himself when Brandy smashed her empty glass over his head.
Blondie slipped on the ground, and spun his head around in time to catch Brandy ditching her heels and sprinting out through the cabinet-door. 
Blondie grunted some curses under his breath and darted off after her. 


Inside the speakeasy, Rainbow and the One-Eyed Pony were following Hellcat to the source of the commotion. The crowd had centered in on something near the band’s stage. 
Rainbow recoiled in horror, when she caught sight of the pony lying in a heap at the center of the crowd. 
Salt Shaker’s face was blackened and bruised, and his silver-white beard was stained red from some cut near his neck.
Rainbow could hardly hear what the ponies in the middle were saying, before having to shove through to reach closer. 
Her heart sank at the sight. Salt was surrounded by the tips of guns and knives, all directed right at his neck. 
Hellcat approached the giant head-on, disgusted with the grizzly sight. 
“Well. Boss figured you’d show up here, Old Salt,” Hellcat grinned, “He saw what you did to poor Mr. Granger, figured you’d skip town and follow the case here. The master plan. I gotta say, it doesn’t look like it’s going well so far.”
The crowd erupted in laughter, while Salt maintained his composure. A bottle had been broken over his head, and small shards of glass were still stuck in his mane. 
“He’s your friend, no?”
Rainbow was caught by surprise, when the One-Eyed Pony appeared beside her. Rainbow glanced at him, unsure how to answer. 
“Yeah, thought so,” the One-Eyed Pony muttered. 
“Kitty” Salt said, “What happened to Manehattan hospitality?”
“You’re not in Manehattan,” Hellcat reminded.
“I was hoping it’d be you, actually. I came to make a deal,” Salt said, smiling. He was in disbelief; he still had the nerve to keep on talking, even with the clutter of knives and pistols stuck at his neck.
“A deal! You’re too late,” Hellcat bellowed, “I looked up to you once. The brawn and the brains. Guess I was only half-right.”
“I had planned to bring the briefcase back to Crozer, to split the prize,” Salt said, “We don’t need to be working against each other.”
“Crozer isn’t having any of it. You’ve gone rogue, Salt, admit it. Boss wants to see you himself, before he guts you and hangs you off the Arbory Dock,” Hellcat laughed, “And as for you, my dear…”
Hellcat turned to Rainbow, who could feel her face turn pale.
“Ms. Wonderbolt, I should remind you that we’ve got your friends - strung up waiting to have their throats cut. Addresses. Places of work. Passports.”
Rainbow’s jaw dropped, trembling in place. Two of more Black Hoof goons were already behind her, ready for any sudden moves. 
“Which leaves us with that blonde rat bastard friend of yours. He can’t be far, can he?”
Salt hesitated, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. He had already spotted Blondie and Rainbow in the crowd, and made his best effort to avoid drawing attention to them.
“We altered the deal, it’s true,” Salt said, “But we also went out of our way to take out Trench, your enemy, and send the Underground scattering. Crozer owes her and her friends their lives, at least.”
Hellcat glanced at the ground, seemingly uncertain.
He began to laugh, along with the rest of his companions.
“You know Crozer. He’s got a funny way of showing gratitude.”
The first crack of a gunshot sent the crowd ducking down to the ground. Soon the speakeasy was a parade of smoke and knives, while ponies began screaming at the top of their lungs.  
It was the One-Eyed Pony who had fired the first shot, straight into Hellcat’s shoulder. Another of the Black Hoof goons took a bullet to the spine, sending him twisting around into a table. 
Now of the various collections of criminals, the first shots effectively raised a green flag for whichever rivals to reduce their competition. And what had begun as a squabble with the Black Hoof soon escalated to a wide-spanning affair, with creatures of all kinds rushing to bash in the brains of their adversaries. 
Rainbow shoved through the crowd to reach Salt Shaker, who was still struggling to stand up to his hooves.
She had him by the hoof when another pony came tugging on her shoulder.
She turned to find the One-Eyed Pony.
“I know a way out,” he said.
But Rainbow’s eyes were fixed elsewhere - across the room, where Malthos remained, trembling behind his guards, standing in a puddle of his own making. Violence terrified him, after all.
Rainbow smiled to herself, and glanced back to the One-Eyed Pony, who was fending off some Black Hoof soldiers.
“I’ll be right back.”


Brandy sprang over the railing of the fire escape, out from the bottom-floor emergency exit of the Andromeda. The fire escape crept up two stories back to the ground level, and Brandy moved with remarkable agility, swinging up and over each railing, tearing the fabric of her dress at the waist.
Blondie was not far behind her, struggling in his stuffy tux, drawing his knife from his beltbound sheath. 
Her laughter gave him the rage needed to push the extra limit, climbing up with beastlike intensity.
He was able to reach for her ankle right before she could reach the ground level, dragging her back down toward them. He slipped on his own foothold in the process, however, tumbling off the rail and catching himself on the next platform. Brandy lay on the same platform, picking herself off her chest.
Blondie pulled himself up, only to be met by a hoof straight to the nose. He could hear the snap, and felt the wash of blood drain out over his mouth. He swung madly with the blade, though each time Brandy was able to dodge it, teetering backwards with precise poise.
She spun around on the side rail, spinning her legs in an attempt to land another kick. But Blondie saw it coming this time, grabbing her hind right leg forcefully and pulling her toward them. Slipping off the wet rail, her head fell against the metal, and her strength seemed to wither at last.
Blondie was on top of her in an instant, raising the knife right against her neck. Brandy froze, refraining from any quick movements. 
The sweat and the rain left both of them drenched, as Blondie held the knife there, dangling against her neck, as she flailed beneath his weight. 
“Where’s the case?” Blondie asked.
“Stop!” Brandy screeched, as the knife pressed closer to her throat.
“Blondie!” Brandy squealed, while he stared down at her with trembling hooves. 
“Blondie!”
It was not Brandy who had called out to him, but rather Rainbow Dash, who was flying up the fire escape, screaming out into the downpour just to be heard.
Blondie broke from his trance, and glanced down at where Rainbow’s voice had come.
But Brandy took advantage of his hesitation, kicking up at his chest, sending him toppling off of her, over to the edge of the fire escape. He gasped for breath, still clutching his knife. 
Brandy too was out of breath, and there remained a small cut on her neck from where his knife had reached her.
“I thought maybe you were the first pony in my life who didn’t just want to use me for something,” Brandy said, brushing her soaked mane away from her eyes, “But you’re just like everypony else.”
Brandy jumped up to the last platform, and then to the ground level edge, where she promptly took flight. 
Blondie glanced up to find her as a speck in the sky, when Rainbow Dash arrived beside him.
“No dice?” Rainbow asked.
Blondie, who was still out of breath, could only shake his head.
“You?” Blondie asked.
Rainbow grinned, and glanced down at the fire escape stairwell, where Salt Shaker had emerged. He had not come alone, however. In his hoof, he dragged the neck of Prince Malthos, who already fainted out of fright. 
Blondie was in disbelief, laughing for a brief moment before allowing Rainbow to help him to his hooves.
“You’re alright?” Rainbow asked, hesitantly. Blondie nodded, though Rainbow remained concerned.


During the daytime, the parking lot at Breezy’s was a livelier place, where families came strolling with carriages of foals and trays of breakfast coffees. 
Lightning tapped her hoof on the steering wheel, and checked her rearview mirror. She saw Kickstart wincing, clawing at his skull.
“Are you alright?”
“No, he’s not. It’s the-” Scootaloo began, before Kickstart stuck his hoof over her mouth.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered.
The passenger door came swinging open, catching Lightning by surprise.
High Winds jumped inside, clad in her Wonderbolt suit. 
“Blue looks good on you,” Lightning admitted.
“Thanks,” High Winds said, “You still know the way?”
Lightning glared at her. She recalled every day she spent flying to that Wonderbolt track early in the morning, and all the hours she’d spent, all the hours she’d waste. 
“Yeah.”


The Wonderbolt Academy had grown in size since the last time Lightning had laid eyes on it; its columns seemed thicker, its wispy winding runways seemed sharper.
“Park near the back,” High Winds advised, “Now hold on a second.”
Lightning parked the car as instructed, near a pair of dumpsters. The inlet was desolate, while most of the Wonderbolt racers and staff were running drills on the front track.
“Listen to me, Dust,” High Winds said, turning toward her, “If you get caught, I’m not going down with you. We haven't spoken or seen each other in months. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Lightning said, glancing at the ground.
High Winds sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
Lightning lifted her gaze.
“What?”
“I’m sorry that I ditched you when I joined the Wonderbolts. That was a sucky thing to do, I just…Got so caught up in everything here, I just....screwed up.”
Lightning took a breath and wiped at her eyes.
"You were the only pony who'd let me sleep over when I needed to get out of the house, when I needed to get away from him," Lightning said, "You were the only pony who believed I could do the things I wanted to do, after I failed and failed and failed...I don't blame you for what you did. I gave up on myself a while before you did."
"I haven't given up on you," High Winds said, frustrated, "That's not something I'm ever going to do."
"....I'm sorry for doing this," Lightning said, "I shouldn't be asking this of you."
High Winds smiled.
“What are friends for?”


High Winds slid her security card through the door slot, and the light promptly buzzed green.
“Is it a good idea to bring the kid?” High Winds asked.
“She’s more help than harm,” Kickstart said, “Most of the time.”
“Great,” High Winds grunted, “Stay close. Keep your heads down. Fire Streak’s office isn’t far.”
High Winds opened the door, and ushered in Lightning, Kickstart, and Scootaloo inside. She glanced around the lot one last time, and shut the door behind her.
The halls of the Academy were empty, to Lightning’s relief.
“It’s 9:30 reverie,” High Winds reminded, “You didn’t think I’d throw you in a death trap, did you?”
“Will he still be there?” Lightning asked.
“I’ve never seen him leave his office,” High Winds said, “I’ve never seen him do his job, either.”
“Up to no good, no doubt,” Scootaloo believed.
Kickstart began to slow down, to Lightning’s concern.
“Hey, you with me?”
“Yeah,” Kickstart muttered.
“This is it,” High Winds said, stopping before a moon-silver door. 
High Winds led them to the door, and hung back by the wall.
“I’ll find Spitfire. Keep her away from here. You know the way out, right?”
“Yeah,” Lightning said, “Thanks, Windy.”
High Winds wrapped her forelegs around Lightning, who reciprocated. 
“You just can’t stay out of trouble,” High Winds smiled, “That’s what I always loved about you.”
High Winds took off down the hall, leaving the three ponies by the door.
“He might be hostile,” Lightning reminded, “He may resist.”
“He’s welcome to try,” Kickstart smirked.
He wrapped his hoof around the handle and threw it open.
The office was furnished with deep red carpets, fitted with wooden furniture and bookcases that reached the ceiling. The desk at the center bore a mahogany finish, covered in consoles and computers and scattered documents. And sitting there, behind that desk, was the pony himself, who had to be Fire Streak. He had a slight hunch, and a receding mane of burnt orange and grey. His coat was off-white, and his snout was currently buried in a book. He wore a pair of glasses, a black suit and red tie. 
“Excuse you,” he muttered, and had not even lifted his gaze from his book, “Does the Academy no longer teach manners?”
“I wouldn’t know, they threw me out,” Lightning replied.
Kickstart and Scootaloo filed in behind her, and shut the door. 
Fire Streak glanced up at her, and set his book down.
He eyed the three of them, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
"...And you are?" he said.
“We need something from you,” Lightning said, keeping a close eye on him, expecting some kind of trick.
Scootaloo held her post by the door, practically jumping up and down while Lightning and Kickstart kept Fire Streak cornered.
“You're welcome to make an appointment then," Fire Streak smiled, "I don't take walk-ins."
"You do today," Lightning replied, "We're here about the project."
Fire Streak eyed her, and his confusion seemed to deepen.
"Ponies with your reputation would be better off not sticking their noses where they don't belong," Fire Streak said, "Though I suppose when you have nothing to your name, you've got nothing to lose."
"You know who we are," Kickstart guessed.
"Regrettably," Fire Streak snarled, "A persistent nest of pests. Crawled out from the sewers, a collection of mistakes."
Kickstart narrowed his eyes. Scootaloo noticed the twitch in his jaw, and glanced at Lightning, hesitantly.
“The project. What is it?” Lightning demanded. 
Fire Streak smiled.
“You are far in over you head. That's why your friend from the Underground lost his life, mind you. Myself and the ponies I work alongside, we dreaded your involvement, considering your, er, reputation. 
"You're gonna get a taste of it soon, if you don't start talking," Lightning said.
Fire Streak scoffed.
"You and your band of fugitives are hardly a threat. Merely, a high risk of catastrophe galore. The second you leave here, you will be hunted down and killed, now that you know we exist. We’ve kept tabs on you all, in case of some unexpected act of courage. With the press of a button, I could have your friends killed, right this moment.”
"He's bluffing," Kickstart laughed.
“I know all about you," Fire Streak said, shaking his head, "How you sent the earth pony into the Grand Galloping Gala, how you recruited Twilight Sparkle’s old friend Moon Dancer…How you took refuge from the riots at some gorge on the other side of the mountain.”
“OK, he’s not bluffing,” Kickstart whispered to Lightning."
“What’s stopping you, then?” Lightning asked, nervously.
Fire Streak smiled.
“Something about your tenacity has touched me. No matter how often the world steps on you, you all seem to spring back up. Relentless pests. I feel as though you would make better assets for me, than collateral waste.”
“What are you saying?” Lightning stammered. 
“I won’t say anything,” Fire Streak said, raising his hooves in the air, “You’ll need to speak with my superiors to make a proper deal. We'll tell you what you want to know, in exchange for something from you. And you would be wise to follow through, otherwise we’ll have to kill you all, which would simply break my heart. What a waste that would be.”
Lightning winced.
“Where? When?” she spat. 
“The Red Roan Hotel. 52nd Floor. Suite C. Saturday, midnight. No more than three of you may arrive, and Sunset Shimmer must be one of them,” Fire Streak said.
 Kickstart was fuming, while Lightning struggled with what to do.
“The girl stays with me. As insurance there won’t be any tricks,” Fire Streak said, pointing at Scootaloo.
“What?” Lightning exclaimed. 
“You must understand. I don’t want to be taking any chances,” Fire Streak grinned.
“Lightning?” Scootaloo whimpered, backing towards the door.
Kickstart remained in front of her, glaring at Fire Streak with eyes that trembled.
His eyes began to burn, bright like torches. And his chest glowed red like a furnace, while his bones rattled and his breath became rasped. 
“Kickstart?” Lightning muttered, glancing over at him.
Lightning grabbed him by the wrist, right as the glowing aura escaped through his chest, encompassing his body, and Lightning’s as well, through her grip on his foreleg.
Lightning shrieked, as she felt the magic consume her, and before she could release her grip, they disappeared in a flash of light. 
Fire Streak shielded his eyes, while Scootaloo stared at the ashy spot on the ground in shock.
“Are th-they-” Scootaloo sputtered, "No, No! Come back!"
Fire Streak was speechless. A pegasus who could teleport. He smiled in disbelief, grabbing a hoofful of his mane. He was sure of it now. These ponies would make a remarkable investment.  


The invitation seemed innocent enough, but every time Rarity thought about it her gut tightened into a knot. She was to have left already, done as Trixie insisted. Return to Ponyville. Return to Sweetie Belle. Be free of it all, safe from harm. But here she remained, prancing up those marble steps, ignoring the distant whispers and echoing drops of water. 
It could be curiosity, she supposed; perhaps Twilight wanted to get the measure of her, to determine the plausibility of her treachery. Does Twilight resent me, she wondered. Does she think I wish her harm?  
Perhaps she was doing Twilight an injustice. Perhaps the invitation was no more than a simple kindness, a meeting between old friends. But this was the royal palace, this was Canterlot, and this was the court of Princess Twilight Sparkle. And if there was one thing Rarity had learned here, it was mistrust. 
She found Twilight there in her throne. Darker, but darker still had the halls of the castle become. The chandeliers were dimmed low, and Twilight appeared only a bloody red half of a silhouette, her eyes cast down into the shadow. By the doors, Grey Wick and Venger remained in their golden armor, watching Rarity progress down the crimson carpet.
“Twilight, I came as quickly as I could, what’s happened?” Rarity wondered, approaching Twilight with a gentle smile.
“Trixie Lulamoon has been found,” Twilight said, “Roaming the shadows with a pack of thieves and criminals at her side.”
“A dreadful thing. What is to be done about it?” Rarity said.
Twilight eyed her. Rarity was alarmed. There was a fire behind those eyes, red hot, whimpering, weakened but vengeful. 
“First she must be found,” Twilight said, “Callidus is already on her trail. He knows precisely where she means to go.”
Rarity’s ears perked up. Grey Wick and Venger had made themselves known, approaching her on either side.
“I’m disappointed in you, Rarity,” Twilight said, softly.
Rarity glanced over her shoulder, and she felt her nerves get the better of her.
“What are you doing?” Rarity stammered, “Twilight….What are you doing?”
Twilight laughed in disbelief.
“I told Marius that Cadance was being taken to Mercy Hill. I told Featherglass she was being taken to the Shimmering Spires. I told no one the truth, that she was being taken to the Ghostfort. No one except you.”
Venger had her hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, who was too stunned to try resisting.
“Twilight….Don’t.”
Twilight’s eyes fell to the ground, as she struggled to look on at the sight.
“I should have known better, by now.”
“Twilight!” Rarity screamed.
Grey Wick had a hold of her as well, and the two guards began dragging Rarity out of the room.
Rarity’s screams left Twilight with a panicky tremble, as her hooves began to shake and she rose to her hooves, gasping for breath. 
She wiped her eyes and crashed back down to the throne, too weak to free herself from its grasp.