//------------------------------// // Plans // Story: Lost In The Light Of Shadows // by Satsuma //------------------------------// Before we begin, I really regret the tacky title for the fic, but what's done at 2 in the morning is done. And one more thing is this chapter is really draggy but half-necessary for context of the further chapters. Chapter 3: Plans Dusk woke up late the next morning, with a headache gnawing at his brain stem. Not one to give in, he pulled himself forcefully out of bed, nearly falling over from the sudden change in position. The bunk was already empty, and the hustle of the compound proceeding with their mid-morning tasks without him could be gleaned through the door-less rectangular entrance. He shrugged and tidied his bed, as per usual. The familiar routine and a subsequently splash of cold water helped to ease his slight giddiness, pushing it back into a corner of his consciousness but not completely erasing it. He continued his mindless routine of getting kitted with the gear in his locker and getting breakfast, while his mind wandered to more important matters. What’s my game plan? Where do I even start? He thought back to his old days in the Royal Guard, tried to recall how he the missions always started. There was always a briefing, outlining the local conditions, mission parameters and availability of support, basically any and all known or otherwise necessary intelligence. So far, the only one that he could determine was the availability of support, which was none. At all. Afterwards would be a trip to the armory to pick up the necessary gear for the mission. What would he need? It usually consisted of surveillance equipment, weapons, stealth gear, rations, survival equipment, depending on necessity. That was more or less it. Except that he was absolutely on his own this time. While it allowed for a greater amount of freedom in terms of operation limits, it was also a lot more perilous, not to mention planning was a tedious thing. Well, better get to work. The rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon were spent gathering intel, whether it was a tattered file in the Guild’s records or simply rumours and experiences from his more knowledgeable and reliable colleagues. The Guild’s data collection had yielded satisfying and welcome news. Ponyville was basically a small town in the countryside, surrounded by vast tracts of farmland, primary forest and uninhabited rolling green hills. It had a population of a hundred and fifty to two hundred, but possessed a surprising amount of modern amenities for a town that size. The major industry was agriculture which, together with the related industries, contributed up to twenty percent of the jobs in Ponyville. Furthermore, it was almost three hours’ flight time away from Canterlot, meaning that it was unlikely that the Royal Guard would be able to respond to any alerts that got around to them in the first place. Given its recent attention in the country’s news, however, it was gaining a reputation as a secluded, rustic and pleasant area for holiday goers. This had not affected the town in any way yet, but Dusk decided that he wanted to complete his assignment before Ponyville had the chance to become a high-profile zone. From the looks of the background information, as well as the town planning documents, surveillance in Ponyville was going to be easy. Structures there hardly reached three stories, with the town hall, library, a large food storage facility and a boutique being almost the sole exception to the rule. This, combined with the ample spacing given to the buildings of the town, all but ensured a clear view from almost any possible viewpoint. Overall, it was a town in which surveillance and survival would be easy, there was almost no law enforcement, and where escaping, hiding or calling for help were not options for his quarry. The cat was already theoretically in the bag. Unfortunately, firsthand information told a very different story. Word of mouth garnered more specific and more depressing results as compared to background information. Apparently there were two very important and very lethal sociological hazards to operating in Ponyville. Firstly, in a small, tightly-knit community like Ponyville, everypony knew everypony else. One would have to blend in or risk having his or her cover blown by widespread suspicion and rumours. In this aspect, the slow growth of Ponyville into a larger or more urban setting proved to be more of a curse than a blessing. Secondly, there was Pinkie Pie. Apparently, she was the cause of the dismally low success rate of contracts in Ponyville, despite there having been only a few. Or maybe that was the reason for the low number of contracts? Either way, it had taken Dusk quite a while to find somepony who had finished their jail term already. What he heard was not good. Apparently, no amount of stealth would be able to prevent her sixth sense from sniffing out a newcomer in town. No amount of stealth at all. It always started with the eerie suspicion that somepony was watching you, only to find nopony there or else everypony around you. The feeling would stay for a while until operatives lost their concentration and did something stupid to get caught, or they would walk into any structure first, only to be pulled into a welcome party which brought them under the convenient suspicion of the resident Element of Magic. From there on it was a simple matter of being overrun by the townsfolk and subdued until the Royal Guard arrived. The most disturbing account was from a young member of the guild. We had just stepped into town, when I got the feeling that somepony was watching me. It was in the early evening and there were still a fair number of the townsfolk about, so I told myself ‘Of course somepony’s watching’. Me and my mates, we decide to grab a bite, walk into this gaudy pink pastry shop and the next moment… it’s like someone shot a cannon blank at us, just filled with streamers and confetti. Knocked off my four feet, I was. I thought we had been discovered so I got up an’ pulled my dagger out, but it was just… her! That pink one! Beamin’ like the sun and making funny faces in the reflection of my blade. Then I remembered the Guards don’t work in Ponyville and that no one would be crazy enough to activate a cannon in a structure, so I sheathe it. Told her she had scared me bad and apologized. I had thought that was the end of it. But then she tells us she threw a party for us because she’d never saw us before and that means we didn’t know anypony here because she knows everypony and she means everypo—I’m getting carried away, aren’t I? Anyway, me and my mates try to decline, but she pulls this real cute pout. Ah, what can I say, I fell for it hook line and sinker. So the party continues, and it’s good and all, but the next moment that purple one, the Element of Magic? Yeah, she notices us, all shifty lookin’ and all, and she sneaks off to look in our carriage. Next thing I know, me and my mates are pinned down by this here bunch of townsfolk, three of them, those two elements of loyalty and honesty and this real huge guy, red coat, orange mane… it was terrible, it was. That jail term took me a heck of a long time to clear… good thing she showed showed up every now and then. Pinkie Pie, I mean. Either she’s got some nerve, or else she’s just plain nuts. Chilling. Simply Chilling. From what he could tell, there were two options, social stealth and conventional stealth. The former would involve blending into the townsfolk and becoming of no societal interest whatsoever. It might involve deep cover, a fake identity and documents, a disguise; it might even involve getting to know some of the townsfolk. No. Not after what happened the last time. There was a brief stab of pain as the memory of his last experience in deep cover yielded flashed briefly through his mind. Social stealth was a last-ditch alternative. He would have an identity ready, but otherwise, he would keep to the shadows rather than hide in plain sight. Now that intelligence was all settled, there was only the armoury and logistics left. The armoury was about empty when Dusk finally finished listing the necessary gear and supplies for the mission. He had no problem being able to transport it all on foot, being trained to do so as a soldier after all. The only problem was, Cloudsdale was still a long, long way from Ponyville, too long to reach on foot within a reasonable timeframe. Other means of transport would attract too much suspicion. He would deal with all of that later. After he had secured his package, he had to find a way of getting her — it — yes it, to his customers’ chosen site. He needed a way to bang out if things went awry, or alternatively, if he had succeeded and needed to make a getaway. That would likely be under fire and being pursued by half of the law enforcement in Equestria. Seeing as there was no way to achieve success by overpowering the Guards, and that he was hoping to avoid a jail term or having his head sliced off his upper torso with a guillotine, getting away from them quickly would be the most suitable solution. He would have to travel light, which would solve his problems of transport, anyway. His daggers would suit the role of light weaponry just fine. They were lethal at short range and useable at a reasonable range when thrown (yes, he could throw them out of his wings). He was quite sure that he could bat away any magical attacks with two full wings of overlapping knives, but was worried about conventional ranged weapons. He would not have the luxury of the protective and nearly impenetrable composite diamond weave armour that the guild provided for the usual Black Contracts. Arrows were faster and trickier to deflect. Repeating the feat with bolts fired from even the weakest crossbows would be near impossible. Muskets were definitely out of the question. The only remotely viable way was to be even faster, unprotected and vulnerable to attack. So be it. That brought the total to some surveillance equipment and survival gear, and weapons that he could carry on his person. It would be light enough for him to glide, but not fly, to somewhere near Ponyville. From there it would be a one-way trip, no going back until the task was complete. He would leave as soon as he could, probably some time tomorrow morning. As Dusk climbed back into the bed that he had seemingly just vacated and fell to sleep straight away, one last thought flashed across his mind. This is it. It’s time. Meanwhile, in a small cottage on the edge of the Hollow Shades Settlement, nestled in the gloomy woods, Brain Case knelt in front of a magical glass ball which radiated a deep, angry red light that cast sinister shadows over the room. The ball itself was transparent, and held a single maelstrom of chaotic red essence, which brightened towards the core to an eye-watering shade of crimson-white brilliance. Brain Case was stooped low in front of the orb, which was sitting atop a cluttered writing table. He was careful to respectfully avert his eyes from it as he spoke. ‘Master.’ ‘Yes, my loyal follower?’ The voice that spoke was high and quavery, but undoubtedly masculine. The light would glow brighter and recede with the sound of the voice, following some indiscernible pattern that seemed to nag at the edge of one’s consciousness, but was frustratingly indiscernible. ‘Everything is going according to plan. I have found and hired the one you spoke of. Indeed, there is a spark of chaos within him. Perhaps enough to bend him to our will…’ ‘Yes. And with every passing day, his own mind grows more confused and weary. Soon all our plans will come to completion.’ ‘Is there anything else that I should accomplish in addition to our current plans, master?’ The orb shrank as if in thought, then pulsed again. For now, there is nothing else.’ ‘Very well. I will be attending to my tasks, then.’ ‘Yes…’ Again the light showed a telltale sign of the intelligence behind it pondering, then added, ‘If we fail again, there will be no further chances for a long, long, time. Do be careful.’ ‘Yes, master.’ Brain Case left the room with a faint smile on his lips, closing the door gently behind him. As he carried on with the planning and execution of his master’s plans, he reflected on the long line of events that had brought him here. Long ago, so long, in fact, that time had formed an impenetrable mist that obscured further memory. Brain Case had been a regular pony. All he could remember was that he had someone close then, probably friends, perhaps even kin. His earliest memories were of walking through a forest, but where he did not know. Maybe here, maybe in the Everfree, or even elsewhere. He only knew it was a long, long time ago. He remembered walking hurriedly through the forest when he heard a strange snarling noise, something between a hiss and a the screech of an alarmed chicken. He paused, looked around, continued warily. Something serpentine and rather large flitted through the bushes. The silhouette stopped Case in his tracks. He paused and backed away, thinking to leave the way he had came. He turned around, only to see a pair of blood red eyes staring back at him. He tried to back away, but it seemed that the cockatrice’s abilities had already taken effect. So cold, so cold… The first surprise came when he woke up. Somehow he had never thought about whether he could think if he got turned into stone, but even now, with his mind fully functional, there was nothing he could do. Maybe… someone… would come and get him (he could not remember who). Yes, someone would notice that he was missing and come free him. He kept that thought and tried to entertain himself for the next couple of hours, musing over his fellow ponies and keeping his mind from straying to how they would get him back to normal, to how agonizingly constraining it was not to be able to move. But help never seemed to arrive. The hours stretched into days, and soon, Case lost track of the passing of weeks and months. The progression of time was soon irrelevant to Case. It took a very, very long time, he eventually gave up on the ever slimmer hope that somepony would find him. He had consciously let go, but somewhere deep in his mind, the hope was still there, festering slowly. He began to find more to satisfy his idle mind, began to take notice of the smallest of details in his surroundings, and observed the natural world around him. He began to recognize it for being so much more than he thought, and observed, formed theories, observed some more. For the first few days, or maybe years (he seemed to remember seasons passing), it was enough, but a pony’s mind has an insatiable appetite for stimulus, much like how any living being needed oxygen to survive. The amount of information in the environment was simply not enough to sustain Case’s mind. Quite soon, after a long, long while, he started to notice strange thoughts at the edge of his consciousness. Soon, the strange thoughts took control, formed the activity that occupied his waking hours (if they could indeed be called that). But Case didn’t mind. They were always so interesting, more interesting than what was visible from his stony physical prison. The thoughts became more frequent, more erratic and unrelated. But he didn’t mind. Then the day came. A cockatrice prowling the woods looked in his direction, and glanced at him from the wrong angle. Immediately Case broke out of his bonds, shirking of a layer of stone that hadn’t cracked yet. He grabbed the foul creature and snapped its neck, then threw its lifeless form into the bushes. He couldn’t wait to get back to town. There was… someone… whom he wanted to see very much. Along the way, the strange thoughts still kept vying for his attention. He pushed them aside and shuddered in fear. Upon journeying back to civilization, however, he was shocked to discover that all of the ponies he knew, every single one save the princesses, were dead and gone, of an era that was long past. It was enough to push him over the edge. The strange thoughts came rushing back and everything else was shut out. That was when he met his master. The master had summoned him from the depths of madness itself, speaking to his deranged mind on a frequency that was mutually understandable. He knew what it was like. The madness, the pain and unreasoning ecstasy of one’s own deranged mind. The feeling of being trapped in stone in particular was also mutually understandable. The world had not been kind to them, it seemed. The world would pay. It would come under the curse of chaos for what it had done to them as a whole. Very soon, Case was helping his master to meet their ends, helping and being helped by the master’s other recruits from all walks of insanity. They had tried to free the master before, thinking that he was powerful enough to hold his own against the world afterwards. At first it seemed that is was indeed so, but in the end, even he was too complacent. They could not afford to fail again. Case snapped his mind out of his reverie, and focused on his task. He had to check on the other hideouts all over Equestria, make sure that preparations were made and his brethren were ready. They had lost a lot of their number the last time, and arrangements had to be made so that they would not lose any more, or the plan would not be able to succeed, and the Agents would be no more.