//------------------------------//
// Atonement 
// Story: The Immortal Dream 
// by Czar_Yoshi 
//------------------------------//

A week into living at Felicity's place, Papyrus had kept his promise. Not once had he set hoof outside the penthouse, never had he invited trouble by showing his face where it could be recognized. No government agents had busted down the door to take him into custody, no political operatives had shown up looking for revenge, and he hadn't even burned the kitchen down.

But Garsheeva's breath, was he bored.

"One of these days, I'll understand modern art," Papyrus mused, staring at an ornate glass torus mounted on the wall of a side room, about the height of an average mare and exactly half full with clear, sapphire liquid. "It might take a brain transfusion, several years of intensive psychiatric reconditioning and an epiphany from the god of glass donuts, but I'll get there. It pays to be optimistic, you know."

Floria was watching him warily, something she had spent so much time over the past week doing that he was starting to wonder if she was intentionally sacrificing her dignity so that he would annoy her instead of getting in bigger trouble. "That is an Abyssinian water clock," she informed him, curt. "A gift to Mother from a client several years back."

"Are you serious?" Papyrus turned his head sideways. The ornamentation on the glass did contain a series of markings at regular intervals, almost like the notches on a clock, but it had no hands or mechanical contraptions whatsoever. "Why would someone make a clock that doesn't work?"

"In Abyssinia-"

"Perhaps they wanted to punk old Felicity with a useless gift?" Papyrus mused... and then his eyes lit up. "Actually, this is genius! When I take over the Empire again, we should make it so these are the only kind of clocks allowed! Imagine all the bureaucrats when nobody is able to coordinate their meetings..."

Floria watched him coldly. "Do you truly have that little respect for things you do not understand?"

Papyrus winked at her. "Have you even met me? Try replacing 'things I don't understand' with 'literally everything' and you'll be closer to the mark."

Floria sighed and shook her head. "Your lack of imagination makes me more concerned by the day about what kind of ruler you will turn into if this insane plan of yours does bear fruit."

"For your information, I have changed," Papyrus told her, proudly patting his heart. "Surprising, I know, but you should have seen the old me!"

"Where you once were has no bearing on who you are now," Floria curtly replied. "Better does not equal good enough. Or are you just thinking you'll get it out of your system so that you can one day run a functioning government without succumbing to the urge to insult every minor office whose purpose slips your mind?"

Internally, Papyrus noted that she had a point, not that she needed to know. Part of that was why he needed Senescey and the others on his team: she was the one with ideas for how to set up a stable, long-term system, and his talents were more in getting rid of systems he didn't feel like keeping around.

What would Floria be like as a governor, he wondered? Probably nothing fantastic; the track record of sphinxes as a race was writ large across the pages of history for all to see. And yet in all the days he had spent being shadowed by her and getting on her nerves for fun, he had yet to figure out what form her insanity and instability would take. Probably something related to crankiness or stinginess, considering her primary passion seemed to be for keeping her passions in check. But that didn't strike him as a particularly stable situation, especially when her father had been the same, and Papyrus sure remembered how that turned out...

Before he could indulge in the memories, a song of greeting announced Felicity's return several rooms away.

Floria breathed a sigh of relief and darted away, and after one more glance at the water clock, Papyrus followed her.





In the penthouse's central room, as usual, Felicity was greeting her family. The first few days had been dampened slightly by memories of their bitter parting in the Griffon Empire, but as it became more and more apparent that twenty years really was enough to heal old wounds, that behavior faded with gusto. Now, Felicity positively lavished them with attention - a behavior Papyrus surmised was usually reserved for Floria, and now had to go to someone else as the sphinx was too self-conscious to partake in displays of parental affection with guests in the house.

"I hope your day was more exciting than mine," Papyrus greeted, lifting a wing in welcome. "Not that I'm ailing from anything besides boredom, but did you really have to hit me with the one restriction I'm worst at? Holding still and not making trouble for the duration of our stay?"

"Ahem," Felicity told him with a flat look, "staying cooped up in here was your idea. And while I do think it was a wise one, I won't be held responsible if you do happen to explode from pent-up whatever it is that drives you. If doing nothing pains you so, I'm sure you can find some way of being productive and safe at the same time."

"At least you don't need to worry about me." Larceny shrugged, swaddled in blankets on a nearby couch.

Felicity gave her a fond smile. "About that, I have been looking into alternate ways to potentially make headway on whatever ails you... but tonight, we have more important matters to discuss. I've told you all repeatedly that the importance of my job here is one of the biggest factors keeping my hooves tied when it comes to your mission in the Empire, and I've made some headway discussing the situation with my manager. All of that is to say, would any of you be down for a potentially-clandestine meeting with him around one in the morning tonight to add your input to the matter?"

Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "Would doing so be illegal, by any serendipitous chance?"

Felicity cleared her throat. "Well, it would involve taking a wanted international criminal - that's you, darling - into an Equestrian governmental office. And while I've confirmed to a fairly high degree of confidence that my manager is more interested in extracting certain favors from you in exchange for my leave of absence than arresting you on the spot, such considerations might not apply universally."

"And we can't just meet him in a cafe or alley because...?" Senescey asked.

"Oh, he lives in the office," Felicity explained. "Never leaves it for security reasons. Otherwise, I would have invited him to this very room."

Papyrus frowned. "What even is this job of yours?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that." Felicity dismissed him with a smile. "Though if you really want to know more, you could do worse than tagging along tonight. And you are looking for a way to get out of the house, aren't you?"

Papyrus licked his lips. "You know, this smells like a trap, and I honestly can't tell if that's the old instincts kicking in or if I've just spent too much time around Halcyon. But who cares? I'm bored, so count me in."

Upon seeing Felicity's reaction, he added, "Halcyon? Crippling paranoia disguised as a pony. You'll probably meet her some time or another. Now, time for me to go brainstorm nicknames for your funny boss pony..."





Night fell in stages, as it does in the city. First came the rush hour, and then came sunset, and for a few hours after the streets didn't get the memo that it was time to calm down yet. When the memo did arrive, it was less like pulling a throttle and more of a change to the traffic composition: fewer ponies walked the sidewalks, and the ones that did looked hardier, and the cabs and carriages pulling their way through the streets looked less like obstacles to dodge and more like sanctuaries to seek out.

By the time Felicity sallied forth from her penthouse, everyone save Floria in tow, the orange street lamps were long into their vigils, dutifully washing out the stars with overhead glare and providing plenty of edges to the light for things to lurk beyond. Felicity had seen to it that all four of them had business suits to wear; in the daytime, that sent the message that you were too important or powerful to find messing with others to be worth your time.

In the dead of night, it was quite the opposite.

"Is it wrong of me to hope we get in a scrap with some random ruffians?" Papyrus whispered to Senescey as they walked towards a waiting carriage. "Someone who thinks we smell like money and wants to mug us? I haven't had a proper brawl in ages."

"If we did," Senescey whispered back, "I'd prefer to deal with it quietly and not make a spectacle."

Sadly, nothing stepped out to block their path, and they climbed into the coach - Larceny more gladly than the others. Papyrus leaned his head against the cold window, strumming his feathers against the door and watching the not-quite-slumbering city go by.

In a past life, he would have strummed his claws, instead. Old instincts almost tried to make him do it, but when he looked at his hoof, it was flat. The muscles just weren't there.

He closed his eyes.

Eventually, the carriage stopped, and they disembarked in what seemed to be a small industrial park bordering a rail yard. Papyrus only needed a cursory survey to determine there were more warehouses nearby than high-end office buildings. Wherever Felicity was taking them, it seemed like it would be less of a legitimate government agency and more of a secret government lab... which fit with his personal experience that the most important functions of a state were never public.

And, sure enough, as Felicity led them into a narrow alley and then offered to shadow sneak him through a chained metal grate blocking a staircase descending below the street level, their destination was underground.

Papyrus was reasonably comfortable with shadow sneaking. He had accompanied the sisters when doing it many times before, in the old Empire. Taking passengers had a few limitations, but was something anyone could do with nothing more than bodily contact and a decent ability to hold their breath. But there was always a mild discomfort involved, something not even being a sarosian could dispel. As they slipped through the grate, that discomfort mingled with the buzz of old memories, with the sense of crawling into the dangerous unknown, with his old lieutenants at his side - lieutenants that even now, as was the case back then, he could never be one hundred percent sure weren't about to turn around and betray him.

That mixture surged through him, and Papyrus felt alive.

Down the stairs they went, Felicity pulling out a portable light source to lead the way. The staircase opened out into a ledge above an underground waterway, which Papyrus instantly suspected was connected to the sea: that, or its usage varied widely enough that the water level might as well have tides of its own.

"Is there a reason your boss is down here?" Larceny asked, quiet and gruff.

"We're merely taking the back entrance," Felicity whispered back. "Seeing as the front entrance is quite understandably locked and guarded at this time of night..."

The walk lasted just long enough that Papyrus was starting to wonder if he shouldn't worry about Larceny's constitution. Eventually, they came to a heavy iron door set into the wall, beyond which the grinding of machinery could be heard. Felicity ferried Papyrus under once again, shadow sneaking through the doorjamb.

Her light was no longer necessary on the other side, several floodlights illuminating a high ceiling above a brick-walled room filled with giant, cylindrical machines connected by industrial pipes. Accompanying the machines was a caustic smell which caused Papyrus to wrinkle his nose.

"What is this, a wastewater treatment plant?" Senescey asked, looking around. "What does your work have to do with this?"

Around the machinery, a skeleton crew of technicians wandered catwalks or sat around on call in case anything exploded. Over the din, only one had noticed the newcomers, and he paid them no mind, as if it was perfectly acceptable to see a group of ponies in suits in a place like this.

"Welcome to Manehattan's water purification plant, where sea water is turned into the stuff that comes out of faucets in homes," Felicity said. "And it has a nominal amount to do with it, but more importantly the elevator into my building is right over there." She motioned at a doorway set into the opposite side of the room.

As they walked across the machine room, Papyrus let himself stare, and allowed his mind to wander. Felicity's building being above this place was a decent enough reason, but she didn't say it was the only reason. What else were they doing here?

On the pipes between some of the machines, vibrating with the force of whatever was moving through them, his eyes picked out a few sensors that looked newer than the rest of the setup. Modern quality control, or something else?

"This place is enough to provide all the water for a city this big?" Senescey asked.

"Oh, quite a bit more than," Felicity proudly proclaimed. "The technology is quite scalable, and there are over two dozen rooms like this one in this complex alone. This year, in fact, we're aiming to put the finishing touches on a pipeline to export water to Canterlot!"

"So you work for the water authority?" Papyrus rolled his eyes. "Really got my hopes up for something eldritch, there..." He sighed and followed her to the next door, which was already open and didn't require another shadow sneak.

A short maintenance corridor later, and they reached an elevator that sprung to life with a keycard from Felicity's pocket. It rose much more smoothly than the cacophony in the last room led Papyrus to expect, and after a long, whirring ascent, they emerged into the kind of upper-management hallway their suits were meant for.

Actually, this hallway was grand enough that their suits almost didn't cut it. Dimly lit and painted with subdued, dark colors, it had regal red walls and a floor made from midnight purple marble tiles, with thin golden ribs on the walls and ceiling to provide texture and shape. Alcoves between the ribs had doors flanked by potted plants, bearing darkly lustrous creepers with glossy green-black leaves that grew up the walls to frame their entrances, clearly guided by magic.

The hallway bespoke a degree of wealth and power that was clearly disconnected from any regulatory approvals or budgets in need of balancing. If this was a government agency, whatever it did was important enough that its resources came no questions asked.

"Fancy place," Larceny muttered quietly, trying not to show how much the trip had taxed her.

Felicity only nodded, leading the group around a corner. At the end, the hallway widened out into a grand double-door with three short steps leading up to it. Any interest Papyrus had lost down in the water purification plant was now back in force. Just who had Felicity wriggled her way into working for?

The doors swung open of their own accord as the four ponies approached, revealing a spacious executive suite. Dark pillars held up a beige-trimmed ceiling over a black floor, lights slotted into tiny alcoves showing off the vegetation kept along the walls. Silent waterfalls slid down glossy panels and landed in pools that were almost supernaturally still, the floor a mix of black marble and glass panes that covered those pools, creating rivers that wound in geometric patterns beneath the floor. At the far sides were two whole-wall murals cut from ruby crystal and enshrined in white marble, built into illuminated displays that cast harsh and sparkling shadows across their lines. Both of them depicted battles of some sort: the one on the right, a war, and the one on the left, a duel.

At the back of the room, across from the entrance, was a whole-wall window, glinting with the telltale sign of enchanted one-way glass and looking out over the Manehattan skyline with the moon hovering in the distance. In front of it, in the middle, was a large horseshoe desk, its top recessed slightly below the frontal facade. In the middle of the desk was an angular, high-backed executive chair, turned towards the window.

"We have arrived, as requested," Felicity announced with a bow, the doors closing behind everyone once again of their own volition. "All four of us."

The chair began to turn around.

It was Princess Luna.

The monarch wore a neutral expression, her wings folded and her mane blowing quietly. Senescey caught her breath, and only decades of stage experience let Papyrus avoid doing the same: a ruler of Equestria was the last thing he wanted to run into.

Luna was a goddess. Gods wrote their own rules. If he was to walk out of here, it would be by her grace and hers alone.

"Come closer," Luna said, voice neutral. "There is no need to linger in the shadows."

"Didn't you say your boss was a dude?" Larceny muttered as they approached.

"An effective way of preventing a certain someone's thoughts from wandering down the correct track," Felicity apologized. "I'm just glad my excuse about her being unable to make a house call because she lived here didn't fall on more skeptical ears."

Two and two clicked in Papyrus's brain. "Oh, so it is treason, then! Well, congratulations, you caught me. End of the road, I guess." He sat down and held out his hooves. "What now?"

The theatrics were instinctual, but more than anything, they were a way to take his mind off figuring out how he felt about this. Was it... No, better not even begin to dig. Wouldn't matter soon, anyway.

But soon didn't come. Princess Luna watched them, and watched them, and waited.

"Your Majesty?" Felicity asked.

"Long ago," Luna said, "I created sarosiankind, breathed life into a race that I soon proved unable to care for. And so they passed into the arms of a caretaker, who watched over them for me until one day, she, too, failed. Now, my children's continued existence in the north is balanced on the edge of a knife. In absence of populations large enough to sustain themselves and unifying forces to hold them together, they will continue to disappear, until they only persist in isolated colonies who have forgotten how to interact with their neighbors. You were that caretaker's final servants. Her failure is your own."

"The Night Mother." Senescey folded her ears, visibly torn between acceptance and defiance, still trying to get a read on the situation.

"I am told," Luna continued, "that you seek a chance to atone for that failure, as I do for my own."

Papyrus looked up.

"I know who you are, Gazelle Grandbell," Princess Luna told him, meeting his eyes. "Your presence here neither subjects you to nor absolves you from judgement for your crimes against my sister's laws. But I would hear your plans for Garsheeva's old domain."

"That'll be rather difficult to tell you," Papyrus said, swallowing as much of his usual demeanor as possible. "Considering step one is 'get the band back together' and then step two is 'wing it'."

Luna stared into him. "Surely any motivation that could drive you to conquer such a storied location would prompt more thought than 'winging it'."

Papyrus shrugged. "I play the game on instinct. It's how I made such a mess of things last time around. There are probably a lot of former acquaintances of mine who would say 'I told you so' if they ever saw me again, provided they're still alive. But it's also the only way I know how to play, and right now, my instincts are telling me to try again and make it right. Don't get me wrong, I'm also out to have a little fun in the process. But the way I see it, even if I can't land a place as one of the good guys, I can still even the score a little, make it easier for someone else to come in after me once I've cleaned up after myself. Besides, most of my intel on the place is years out of date, so I can't scheme properly even if the urge takes me. That a good enough reason to go in without a plan for you?"

Luna watched him a while longer.

"It's debatable, whether I've really changed," Papyrus said. "But I like to think I eventually - way later than I should have - learned a thing or two from my mistakes. And even if this whole Empire thing goes nowhere, even if you eviscerate me on the spot, at least I can say I dragged these three sorry lugs back together."

He gestured to the sisters, and Luna's gaze followed. "And what are your dreams?" she asked them.

"Papyrus may not have a plan," Senescey said. "For the Empire's future. But I do. I envision a flat hierarchy for society, with no class and only the bare minimum of centralized authority required to keep that structure in place. I'm sure that as a goddess, you find any ideas someone like me could come up with to be untested, impractical and unrealistic, but I have a duty to my past and everyone else's future to try. And so I'll use Papyrus's revolution as a test. I don't know if my plans for a perfect world could survive contact with reality, but to try them on a small scale like what he can realistically hope to achieve... It's the only way to get the experience I need to improve them."

Luna turned to Larceny.

"I just want my daughter to be happy," she said, looking distinctly uncomfortable on three legs, shorn from her usual bathrobe.

"I recall you once pursued a different goal," Princess Luna said. "Restoration of your bodies. A payment from my stand-in that you never received."

Larceny bowed. "That was a long time ago."

"Princess," Felicity said. "If you want to help us... If you feel any kinship with our cause, as some of the last survivors of your children in the Empire... Your blessing on our course is why we are here. You-"

Luna interrupted her with a nod, and everyone fell silent.

"Let me tell you some of my hopes and dreams," Princess Luna began. "Almost twenty years ago, my children's time was cut short by the mare calling herself Chrysalis. She separated their souls from their bodies, enslaving the latter and seeking to use the former as a power source. They were torn from her grasp and eventually scattered to the Lifestream, dashing any hope of reversing what became of them. Even I could not command those starry waters to return what was given to them. And the one mare who could - Starlight Glimmer - has already decided that is not her role in the world."

Her mane silently blew, a cloud of starry smoke on an invisible wind. "But Chrysalis still exists in the world at large. My children's bodies remain under her control. Part of me desires vengeance. Another part, to recoup the shards of what was lost, even if it can never be made whole again. But most of all, I desire to see that this tragedy can never be repeated. And so, I have been watching the changelings. I have studied, familiarizing myself with the advancements in science made during my thousand-year banishment, both knowledge published under the light of the sun and gained in dark places where none can see. I have tried to discover, to the fullest anyone can understand, what makes a changeling queen, why they function, what they feel and how they may be undone. And I will tell you what I have seen."

Papyrus listened.

"Some changelings," Luna said, "are coming back to life. From the moment of my return, I have discovered isolated drones embedded sporadically in societies, in the guise of ponies with families and relationships. Commoners and ordinary folk, few and far between, removed from Chrysalis herself or the creatures with empty circles for cutie marks that appear to command portions of her horde. Upon capture and investigation, these creatures are the same soulless husks that sarosians become when their cutie marks are removed, acting and shapeshifting as if given orders by remote. However, in the wake of the changeling invasion of Canterlot, a new type has begun to appear: ones who are indistinguishable from original sarosians. But I still call them changelings, for they wear the guises of day ponies, and internal identification information I wove into the design for sarosian bodies reveals that they can be matched one to one with ponies who lost their lives on the day of Chrysalis's ascension."

"What, like, they've got their name printed inside them?" Papyrus asked, scratching an ear.

"Precisely," Luna said. "Though it is more of an identifier, and not the name they would use or even be aware of in day to day affairs. The Night Mother's civilization may have perished, but her records endured, and I spent many a long night in the days after my return in Mistvale, reading through the archives of the deserted temples."

Senescey swallowed. "And that's where we come into this. Felicity told you about me, I take it?"

Princess Luna nodded. "The changelings I commonly observe wear the forms of day ponies, but cannot consciously shapeshift. And when pressed, they all confess to having amnesia about events prior to the point when they presumably awakened. This amnesia is to be expected when pairing a body with a fresh soul and cutie mark; memories in the conventional sense are understood to be accessed based on the unique combination of a body and a soul. But I have heard that you experienced a similar awakening with your original soul and cutie mark, and retained all of your previous identity as a result."

"I have," Senescey said. "Your Majesty. And I can control my shapeshifting, as well." She held up a hoof, and it flickered with green flame.

Luna gave Felicity a look.

"I think that means it's my turn to pick up the story," Felicity said, catching the look. "A primary question Her Majesty has been trying to answer is why these changelings are reawakening. Is it connected to the blank ones she found weeded into society before the Canterlot attack? Is Chrysalis behind this, or is it an unrelated phenomenon outside her control? A promising initial theory was that if these changelings were operating under Chrysalis's orders or control, they would have some means of exchanging information with her, so if we could discover that means, we could learn a great deal indeed."

"Hold up." Papyrus folded his forelegs. "I'm not the greatest science wonk, but didn't Chrysalis do her soul-slurp using the Daydream Network? You know, mystical thingamajig the Night Mother used to communicate with her faithful? The way I always heard it, that was supposed to be a 'feature' baked into bats by their creator." He turned squarely to Luna. "So if you know enough about it to throw it around like that, catching them talking over it should be easy."

"Such were my initial thoughts," Princess Luna said. "Alas, the reality has proven to be more complicated. In lieu of a lengthy scientific explanation, suffice it to say we are certain that they are sending information. We know they are doing much more sending than receiving, and may in fact be transmitting every detail they experience, with an emphasis on the lives of the ponies around them. But we have not yet identified the destination for all of this data and accompanying emotions."

Senescey blinked. "Is this subconscious? Am I relaying everything I experience right now?"

"Perhaps," Luna said. "A proposal you doubtless find no less unsettling than any of the other awakened changelings I have approached. But I find it worth the risk of being eavesdropped on because you are such a unique case that the benefits almost certainly outweigh the risks."

"You say you'd spare us the scientific explanation," Papyrus swaggered, "but try me. I'm down for a little science."

Luna gave him a patient look. "As I said, we are still investigating. However, the Daydream Network involves broadcasting information freely over a surrounding space. The most powerful broadcaster in an area can control the fabric of the network within their surroundings, imposing order and creating channels for communication that can make information private. In fact, some broadcasters powerful enough to do this cannot help but do so, and I have reason to believe changeling queens fall into that category. In short, if someone was using the Daydream Network to communicate, I would either be able to hear it, or detect the effects of them controlling the network to create that private channel. And they would not be able to do so at all within my presence without besting me in a fight over it, which cannot be done stealthily. Yet still, they communicate."

"And how do they manage that?" Papyrus pressed.

"Through the plumbing," Luna simply said.

Papyrus and Senescey looked at each other.

"The circumstances surrounding Chrysalis's ascension were carefully buried," Luna explained, "to the extent where, prior to my return, my sister was hard pressed to separate fact from fiction even when it came to the attack itself. However, in the imperial province of Gyre, I discovered the buried prison where her throne - an object critical to her empowerment - was constructed and then filled with the emotions that would give her strength. Though the throne was long since removed, the facility was filled with metal pipes that held an almost organic appearance, connecting the throne's central chamber to altars throughout the prison where those emotions were fed to it. I could not design an experiment that successfully demonstrated the purpose of those pipes, but the matter remained on my mind upon my return to Equestria. And eventually, with the resources at my disposal here, I discovered that cylinders of metal sometimes microscopically vibrate in the presence of changelings."

Papyrus raised an eyebrow.

"I mentioned the project to send water from the facility here to Canterlot," Felicity cut in. "That's related to this line of research. She's already established that these vibrations propagate remarkably well through longer or branching pipes, and also that there seems to be a logic to the direction they propagate in - not that we quite understand that logic yet. And the upcoming pipe that will be used for water transmission is large, robust, and exquisitely monitored. It's Her Majesty's belief that, if the changelings are using the vibrations of pipes to transmit information, we may be able to tap an incredible wealth of information by offering such a large and tantalizing link and then listening in on what is sent through it."

Princess Luna nodded.

"Devious," Papyrus decided.

Felicity cleared her throat. "Anyway, as to what I have to do with all this... You all remember what my brand does, correct?"

Papyrus sighed in reminiscence. "Allows you to dampen or excite emotions in an area around you? After all the manipulation we got out of that, how could I ever forget?"

Felicity nodded. "The reason I'm involved in all this is because we discovered that my brand, when amplifying or dampening the emotions of nearby changelings, also amplifies or dampens the effects they have on nearby pipes. Makes it much easier to get data from willing test subjects."

"I must learn what has become of my children," Luna said, a crack of emotion entering her stoic voice. "And yet Felicity has asked leave of me to accompany you to the north on a mission that may well be doomed from the start. It would be selfish of me to prioritize my own atonement over yours, but I yet give myself pause, because I believe there are ways we can both benefit from an arrangement with each other."

Papyrus leaned against a pillar. "You've got something you want from me in exchange for giving Felicity some vacation time. Well, spit it out! I've always been one for back-room favors."

Princess Luna nodded. "I have only returned to the Griffon Empire once since my exile, and that was before Chrysalis attacked Canterlot and the situation changed, beginning the appearance of awakened changelings. If you wish my blessing upon your mission, then I would have you survey the Empire's lands for me, and try to determine whether there are such changelings in its lands now. Blank ones without a master, marked ones without memories or a connection to their shapeshifting. You may also investigate and report on any suspicious or unusual networks of pipes you discover, especially the organic variant used in the throne. In exchange for this - and after I have had time to gather testimony and run some experiments concerning whether Senescey is transmitting data, and see what can be done for Larceny's condition - I will bless your mission, and ask my employee to aid you to the fullest in an official capacity."

She gestured to Felicity, who bowed.

Papyrus let out a long, deep breath. It seemed this god wasn't interested in ending his game today, after all.

"Oh..." Senescey hesitated, brushing one foreleg with the other. "I go by Leitmotif these days? Just as a matter of preference; I've... tried to cut ties with my past identity in case I need to go incognito..."

"And I go by Nehaley now," Larceny added. "Just used to it after living that way for twenty years."

"I see." Luna nodded, as if this was an everyday occurrence, and asked nothing more on the matter. "I shall update my records accordingly. Now, if you desire to return to your slumbers at home, I shall no longer keep you. But you did come all this way, and this facility is well-equipped for some of the things I have suggested."

Papyrus gave the sisters a lazy salute. "You chicks want me there while she's poking and prodding you with pipes and trying to fix old Lar-lar? Because frankly, that sounds pretty entertaining, but I'm down to go bother someone else for a change if not."

"I think," Felicity said sternly with a hint of parental gentleness, "this is a time where it would be appropriate if you bothered someone else for a change."