"Simon!" Pilate hissed as he galloped around the hallway corner as smoothely as he could. The sound of his own hooves clopping against the tile floor echoed in his ears as he waited between pulses of O.A.S.I.S. to judge the direction of the group's sprint. "Simon, please, don't go that far ahead!"
"I don't get it..." Ebon Mane panted as he fumbled to keep up with the blind stallion. "Where in the fuzz... does the lil' guy think he's going?"
"I feel the frequency in his sensory nodes increasing," Pilate attempted to explain in mid-gallop. "It's almost like a magnetic pulse attracting the energy coursing inside him."
"Attracting him?" Ebon wheezed. "Towards what?"
"I would venture to guess Floydien."
"Well... that's perfect..." Ebon heaved and panted.
"You doing alright back there?" Pilate asked as they rounded another corner.
"Oh, me? Sure... but..." Ebon gulped and muttered, "How come you're n-not out of br-breath?"
"I've been running a lot over the past few weeks."
"Well, that explains it..."
"Simon!" Pilate hissed again, his legs struggling to keep up. "Perhaps Floydien is in trouble. Maybe that's why he's in such a hurry."
"Well... it's nice to know... the fella's so concerned for the guy..."
The two rounded another corner, and three bodies stood directly in front of them.
"Freeze!" shouted an angry stallion's voice.
Pilate skidded to a stop, wincing. O.A.S.I.S. flickered wildly, casting an echo of Ebon slumping down beside the zebra.
"Uhm..." Ebon stammered, "Think the squirrel with mad telekinesis will be concerned for us?"
"Not another step!" The stallion in the center reached for an enchanted object on his shoulder. "This is Squad Three. We found two galloping stallions on the fifteenth floor..."
Pilate's metal brow furrowed. He sensed electrified weapons hanging off the stallions' sides, as well as flat articles atop their skulls.
"Enforcers," he whispered.
Ebon's body fidgeted beside him. "How could you tell?"
"Do any of Nightshade's ponies wear berets?"
"Sadly, no..."
"Silence, the both of you! This property now falls under the jurisdiction of the Council of Ledo! Please explain your presence here immediately—" A crackling noise lit the air. All three stallions froze in place, squirming.
"Uhhh..." Pilate quivered. "What just happened?"
"The lights went out!" Ebon hissed.
"Props..." Pilate murmured.
"Quick!" Ebon charged forward. "Get 'em!"
"Mr. Mane!" Pilate's voice squeaked. As he jolted, he felt the streaking echo of Ebon's body hurling itself violently into the two stallions to the right. Their bodies became an incoherent blob of tangled limbs. The stallion to the left pivoted, unleashing his taser.
Gritting his teeth, Pilate charged bravely forward. He rammed his shoulder hard into the stallion.
With a grunt, the pony pivoted and easily shoved the zebra back with unicorn magic.
Pilate reeled backwards, almost collapsing of his rear legs. Suddenly, the stallion was grabbing him, trying to wrestle the zebra down with his forelimbs. The two struggled for a few seconds, until the enforcer resorted to telekinetically lifting his taser, preparing to stab it against Pilate's face. On impulse, Pilate spontaneously flung his skull forward, headbutting the stallion with his runic plate. The metal brow collided hard with the stallion's horn, sending a wave of pain down the unicorn's nervous system.
With a grunt, Pilate bucked the writhing pony off him. He spun, panting. "Ebon! Don't worry! I'll... help you...?" He froze in place, his brow furrowed.
Two bodies were lying on the floor. One stood above them, dusting his hooves off. He had no horn. "What?" Ebon said breathily, nodding his head. "Looks like we did good."
"How...?" Pilate pointed as his thoughts dripped off the edge of his tongue. "What business does a cook have in possessing such good combat knowledge?"
"Trust me," Ebon grunted as he kicked one enforcer in the gut and trotted over his wheezing figure. "Years of working in the restaurant business, and you'd be ready to buck punks too."
A shrill barking sound rang down the hallway. Both ponies turned, their ears pricked to the squirrel's voice.
"I do believe he has found a way to our destination," Pilate said.
"Good. Uhm..." Ebon shifted nervously. "You mind leading a blind pony around?"
Pilate smiled and drifted closer to the stallion. "Stay by my side, friend. I'll guide us through the darkness."
"Much appreciated..."
"I'll leave the flank-kicking and cooking to you."
"Both will do..."
They trotted around the corner, joining Simon as the squirrel led them towards the far end of a narrow corridor.