//------------------------------//
// The Journey Home 
// Story: Our Equestria 
// by Nonagon 
//------------------------------//

	By the time Apple Bloom woke up that morning, Scootaloo still had not returned.

She rolled over and sat up quickly, shielding her eyes from a sudden ray of sunlight. Although she was the first one to wake, the curtains had already been drawn, blasting light from the dawn directly down onto her. Floating silently in the middle of the beam was a small, familiar shape. “Cicada!” she yelled.

The shout woke up Sweetie Belle, as well as the three fillies in the bed opposite. As they roused themselves with varying degrees of urgency, Apple Bloom jumped down from the bed and stomped towards Cicada with eyes narrowed. “What have you done with Scootaloo?” she demanded.

The mouse’s answer was calm. “I sent her home.”

There was a pause. “...Oh.” Apple Bloom stepped back a little, kicking at the ground guiltily. “What’d you go and do that for?”

“It’s standard procedure. Once a pilot’s battle is concluded, unless they’ve made prior arrangements with me about where they should be sent, I jump them back to their home. Another thing Pollinia was supposed to have told you.”

There was something off-putting about the way Cicada spoke. His voice lacked the dynamic quality it had had on previous encounters; now, he sounded as though he was just reading lines. His tone was more dull, more wooden, more — Apple Bloom considered the word — robotic. “Well,” she continued, “it woulda been nice to know. We were all startin’ to get worried.”

“It is not my job to inform you of the rules,” Cicada repeated. “Merely to enforce them.” He turned away. “If you call for me, I will return. However, it would be best if we did not speak outside of battles.”

Before anypony else could say anything, he disappeared.

“Wow,” Archer muttered, lifting up her head. “What’s eating him?”

Sweetie Belle sleepily crawled to the edge of the bed and looked up at the space where the mouse had been. “He sounded like he was mad about something,” she offered. “Do you think Scootaloo maybe said something he didn’t like after we left?”

“Maybe he’s still annoyed we’re all just foals,” Tornado Bolt added with a shrug.

“Five more minutes!” Peachy Pie groaned, rolling over underneath the sheets.


---


The hotel’s dining room was livelier than it had been a day earlier. The carnival folk, now twice-delayed by unexplained tremors, had crowded together in the hotel for a last meal before they finally finished packing and moved on. Despite the losses and inconveniences they'd suffered in the past two days, almost all were laughing and smiling, mostly clustered around two large tables as they devoured everything that the kitchen had had left.

Cheerilee's group, however, was strangely quiet. They cast furtive glances at one another while anxiety claimed space in their stomachs, making the meal a slow one. Cheerilee herself had been near hysterics since sunrise. Archer had stuck to her story about Scootaloo leaving the hotel during the night, which was, technically, the truth. Ever since, the teacher couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds, endlessly stirring a now cold cup of coffee, only pausing to give her students the most reassuring smiles she could manage before disappearing off to talk to the mayor or another of the carnival ponies again.

About halfway through breakfast, Dinky Doo as well as a few others slipped back into their seats. Cheerilee hadn't noticed that they'd left. "A lot of them went out and saw us fight last night," the little unicorn told the group, passing whispers in both directions around the table. "Some of them took pictures, but they're not sure what to do with them. They don't think anypony's going to believe them."

"What about Pollinia?" Piña Colada hissed back directly. "Did you find her?"

Tornado Bolt, who'd been in charge of this question, shook her head. "None of the ponies I asked knew who she was. But they say that ponies join and leave the group all the time, and not all of them are here right now. Maybe she just left early."

Twist shook her head sadly. "I don't think we're ever going to thee her again. You guyth, I'm tho thorry—"

"We get it, Twist," Archer groaned. "We know you didn't mean it. Can you just drop it already?"

Twist's face fell yet further. Seeing this, Apple Bloom reached out and held her hoof under the tablecloth, not saying anything. "Cheerilee's asked a lot of them about Scootaloo already,” Rumble added. “They said they'd keep their eyes open, but..." He tightened his lips and looked at his plate.

Spike wrung his claws, for once without an appetite. “Shouldn’t we tell her?” he said, uncomfortably loudly. “Now that there’s proof, she’d have to believe us. It’s wrong to stress her out like this for no reason.”

“I wouldn’t,” Piña Colada broke in quickly. “When somepony’s mega-stressed is the worst time to give them news. If we go up to her now and start talking about robot battles and magic flying mice, she’ll just say to stop making up stories and yell at us for not taking Scootaloo being missing seriously.”

“What? No.” Spike stared at her hard. “She wouldn’t do that. Cheerilee’s not like that.”

The discussion screeched to a halt when they heard their teacher shouting from a few tables over. “That’s not good enough!”

Everypony turned to stare, including a fair number of the carnival ponies. Cheerilee stood seething in front of a table near the corner of the room, where Mayor Ocean Breeze and an impressively mustached pegasus pony were both sitting. "Cheerilee, please, calm down," the mayor was saying.

"I'll calm down when I know that Scootaloo is safe!" Cheerilee yelled back. She turned her glare towards the other pony at the table. "How can you be short-staffed? I thought Seaddle was supposed to be famous for its safety!"

The pegasus shifted uncomfortably. "We're built to outlast just about anything, true," he said in a dull, dusty voice, "but most of our residents are, ahem, older, and have the, ahem, sense not to wander off during earthquakes..." He shrank in his seat as Cheerilee's glare intensified. "Of course, we'll double shifts as soon as everypony gets together," he added quickly. "It shouldn't take long to sweep the town, and we'll do a thorough search around the cliffs, but if she made it to the ocean..."

Ocean Breeze's frantic zip-it gestures didn't come quickly enough. Cheerilee's lower lip trembled, and suppressed sobs began to spill out of her. She grabbed for a chair and fell into it, biting back tears. The mayor stood up and cautiously rested a hoof on her shoulder. "There there, dear," she said, shooting a filthy look at the mustached pony. "I'm sure it hasn't come to that. She's probably just fast asleep in a corner somewhere, safe and sound, waiting for us to wake her up and bring her some breakfast, mm-hm?"

Cheerilee nodded, though her muffled whimpers didn't stop. "Our train home leaves this afternoon, and there won't be another for days. We don't have the money to stay that long. You have to find her soon."

"If it comes to it," Ocean Breeze said gently, "I'll put you up myself."

"No... no, I couldn't do that." She gestured back to her own table, where a dozen foals suddenly pretended to be very interested in their breakfasts. "My other little ones have families to go back to. I couldn't to that to them."

"Well then," the mustached pony huffed, "it seems you have a choice to make. Stay here and fuss, or leave and trust us to get your filly back to you safely." He started to move towards her as well, but at a sharp look from Ocean Breeze sat back down.

"I don't know," Cheerilee mumbled shakily. "Please, just find her."

Piña Colada looked back at Spike triumphantly. "See?" she said. "Do you want to start bugging her with what sounds like fairy tales now? Or do you want to let her get back to Ponyville, see that Scootaloo is safe with her own eyes, and then blow her mind?"

Spike glowered indecisively at the table, folding up his arms. Apple Bloom lifted herself up in her seat. "Cicada?" she called hopefully. Despite his promise, the little mouse failed to appear.


---


The train ride home was a quiet one.

The journey from Seaddle to Ponyville took about six hours, first going up, then down. Cheerilee spent most of it in her own compartment, staring out the window into space. The others settled in for the long haul, reading, playing in the aisles, or simply waiting, watching the high-speed landscape roll by.

Around the three-hour mark, a sharp turn of the tracks at the top of one of the steeper hills brought Seaddle into view once again, far in the distance. Those who could be bothered roused themselves and gathered around the windows on one side of the train, peering back at the brownish blob on the horizon and the endless blue beyond. This spot had marked their first view of both Seaddle and the ocean on the journey there, and would be their last on the return journey. "Do you think we'll ever go back there?" Tornado Bolt asked.

"Ah know we will," Apple Bloom yelled back from two windows over. "Scootaloo's started makin' plans already."

"It lookth tho pretty from high up," Twist sighed from the middle window.

"I just hope the other battles happen far away," Archer said. "We got lucky that the last one started so far away from the coast. If one of those robots ever landed right in the middle of town..."

"That would be so cool!" Snips piped up.

The others looked back. The two unicorn colts were sprawled out in the middle of the aisle, a selection of papers splayed around them, pencil crayons rolling back and forth around them with the gentle rocking of the train. "Yeah," Snails joined in, his eyes lighting up. "Giant robots fighting in the middle of a city!"

"Town," Snips automatically corrected him. "Right where everypony can see! Lasers flying everywhere! Giant hoofsteps shaking the ground!"

"Punching and kicking!"

"Flying magnificently through the air!"

"The greatest and most powerful monsters in Equestria!"

"Crushed houses," Archer broke in flatly. "Streets torn up everywhere they go. Ponies getting stepped on. Families ruined. Blood everywhere."

Snips and Snails looked at her, then back at each other. Their grins only widened. They spoke in unison. "That sounds—"

"Not. Cool." The filly jumped down and walked over to them. "What are you drawing, anyway?"

"We're drawing what we think the next robots are gonna look like!" Snips held his sketch up proudly. “I call this one Mega-Bear! It’s got a fur coat made from molten moonlight and claws that can cut through anything!”

Snails followed suit and lifted up his drawing, which looked suspiciously like his own cutie mark with beams of light shooting out of it. “Mine’s called Super Snail,” he said. “It’s got... uh... laser eyes!”

“I’m drawing a squirrel!” Dinky Doo added from further on, only half-listening.

Archer wrinkled her nose at the former two. "You're both idiots," she snapped, swatting the page out of Snails' mouth. "This isn't a game, okay? You can't treat it like one! We've been lucky so far, but if one of us slips up, lots of ponies could really die!"

A new voice spoke up from across the aisle. "Aw, lighten up, Scootablue."

Archer glared. Diamond Tiara flipped her mane at her, turning back to look out the window. Silver Spoon was close by her side, giggling. "Let the dummies have their fun," Diamond Tiara continued. “They’re not hurting anypony.”

"Not yet. Don't you get it?" Archer bared her teeth. "This isn't a game!"

"Oh, now it isn't a game?" Diamond Tiara now looked at her, a smirk on her face. "You let Scootaloo walk off on her own last night, but now that giant monsters are involved suddenly you take things seriously? Come on, Scootablue. Everypony knows you're just the weird filly who spends all her time at the arcade because she doesn't have her own life. I think maybe it's you who can't tell the difference between games and reality."

Silver Spoon giggled. "Maybe that's where she got Scootaloo's face from, too. She had to steal one for herself because she's such a freak she doesn't have one of her own."

Archer facehoofed. She could sense everypony else staring at her, none brave enough to come to her aid. "That... that doesn't even make sense!" she protested.

"You don't make sense," Diamond Tiara retorted. "And stop trying to put yourself in charge. You'll get your turn like everypony else."

"Then who should be in charge?" Archer snapped. "You?"

Diamond Tiara shrugged. "Better than some friendless loser."

That was the last straw. Archer started to stomp forward, growling. Sensing her intent, Tornado Bolt jumped down from her seat and held her back. "Don't do it," she hissed. "I'm your friend, okay? We all are. Don't let them get to you like that."

After a few tense moments, Archer relaxed. Tornado Bolt sighed. She carefully moved around Archer, careful not to step on either of the colts or their drawings still on the floor. She gently pushed her friend back, smiled in relief, and then turned around and leaped at Diamond Tiara with a screech.

The sound of scuffling and yelps of pain reached Cheerilee's ears like cannonfire and drew her impulsively to them, flinging the door open within seconds and dashing over to the fighting pair. Silver Spoon had elected to hide under the seat while Tornado Bolt held Diamond Tiara down and yanked on her mane, the pink filly flailing at her from underneath. Cheerilee quickly pulled them away from each other, staring hard at them both. "Tornado Bolt, we've discussed this," she said sternly. "No fighting."

The pegasus let herself be pushed to the far side of the seat, while Diamond Tiara willingly shrank to the corner near the window. "She started it," they both said in unison.

"It doesn't matter who started it," Cheerilee sighed. "It takes two to start a fight. Now apologise to each other."

The two glowered at each other. "I'm sorry I let your words get to me like that," Tornado Bolt said coldly. "I shouldn't have overreacted. I won't do it again."

Diamond Tiara stuck her nose in the air. "I'm sorry I didn't explain myself more clearly," she said, matching the other filly's tone. "Then maybe you wouldn't have gotten so mad over nothing."

This didn't seem to entirely satisfy Cheerilee, but she looked as though she didn't have the energy to press the issue. "Just don't do it again," she said. "I know you're all worried about Scootaloo, so I'll let it slide this time, but if it happens again then I'll have to tell your parents. Understand?" They both nodded. "Good. Now, I think I'll spend the rest of the trip in here." She turned away as the two fillies glared daggers at each other again and Tornado Bolt hopped down to rejoin her friends. The teacher took a moment to collect herself before smiling down at the colts on the floor. "What are you drawing?" she asked.

"A squirrel!" Dinky Doo yelled, waving her paper in the air.

No one had been looking as the train had turned again, and Seaddle disappeared completely from view.


---


The sun was setting when the train pulled into Ponyville. Spike roused the ponies who had fallen asleep and helped Cheerilee to herd them towards the doors. This became markedly easier when the walls of the train opened up and the assembled foals saw who was waiting for them outside. "Mommy!" Dinky Doo shouted first, charging ahead and leaping into the embrace of a wall-eyed pegasus.

The others came out in small bunches, sometimes pushing each other to be the first off the train. Peachy Pie ran up to a cluster of yellow ponies and immediately clapped hooves with her sister; Tornado Bolt submitted to her mother’s nuzzling. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both slid up to their respective fathers, smirked at each other, and immediately started to lead the way home.

Piña Colada and Berry Pinch were among the last to leave. They approached a thin, frail-looking earth pony near the back of the platform and stopped a short distance away. "Hey mom," Piña Colada said briskly. "Is Berry Punch coming?"

The older pony shook her head. "She's... tired," she answered in a voice that sounded like it could be carried off in a stiff breeze. "I'll walk you home."

"Okay grandmom," Berry Pinch said, smiling up at her. As they started to leave the platform, she noticed Rumble walking off all on his own. "Hey, Rumble?" she called. "Don't you have somepony to pick you up?"

"Huh?" Rumble looked back. "Nah, I'm fine," he answered when he saw who was talking. "My family's up in Cloudsdale right now. They trust me to get home on my own."

"Oh." She smiled shyly at him. "Do you... do you want to come with us?"

Rumble blushed. "Thanks, but, uh... I think I'm going the other way," he said quickly. "See you tomorrow, okay?" He turned and quickly scurried in the direction of Ponyville's outskirts.

By this point, Piña Colada and her mother had already walked some distance away. "Pinchy, don't waste time!" the pink filly shouted back.

Berry Pinch scrambled after them. "Sorry, Aunt Piña."

Back on the platform, Sweetie Belle was still being fussed over by her parents. "And how was the ocean?" her mother was asking while her father continually ruffled her mane. "Was it big? Was it really, really big?"

"Um... yeah. It really was." While she tried to make conversation, Sweetie's eyes searched the platform, searching for a trace of orange. Her eyes met those of Apple Bloom, who was being similarly fussed over by her family, then they both looked towards the one pony at the station who was still standing on her own.

Neither of them had ever seen Scootaloo's mother before. She was a surprisingly short pegasus mare, looking for all the world like a blown-up version of her daughter, save for the miniature rainstorm printed on her flank. Her expression was an impatient one, the face of a mare who had more important places to be, but it was slowly falling away as Cheerilee got off the train at the back of the line. She made her way up to the teacher, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her, as though she were only seeing the station for the first time. "Cheerilee?" she asked. "Where is Scootaloo?"

There was a long pause as Cheerilee stood in place, trembling, unable to speak.


---


Shining Armour strode through the hospital with no small degree of urgency. Despite the late hour, he was still in his full uniform, and had been ever since reading the message that had arrived that morning. Even so, he started to worry as he rushed down dusty corridors; although the main wing of Canterlot General had been bustling as usual, he hadn't seen another soul since his arrival on the top floor.

Arriving at the correct door, a pair of gold-plated guards briskly saluted and stepped aside. Even so, the guard captain double-checked the piece of paper he'd tucked behind his ear and then knocked. "It's not locked!" a distant voice rang out.

Gulping, Shining Armour opened the door into a wide, dark chamber. The air in here was cold and tasted like soap. "Over here," the voice called again, coming from the light of a sole lantern in the far corner of the room. A white pony in a lab coat waved him over, hunched at a desk in front of a covered operating table. “You made excellent time from the Crystal Empire,” he continued as Shining Armour approached. “I was half-expecting one of your subordinates to turn up in your stead... your Highness.”

“You requested me by name,” Shining Armour stated. “Until Watchtower is officially sworn in, I’m still the head of Equestrian security. Any threats made against us are my responsibility.” He looked around. “This isn’t exactly the reception I was expecting either, though.”

“These aren’t exactly average circumstances,” the doctor shrugged. He was a large yet wiry earth pony with the beginnings of an unkempt beard sprouting from his chin, a perpetually distracted smile fixed just above it. His eyes were grey and his mane was a faded pink, but white roots could be seen growing up around his skull; he was an albino. Shining Armour tried to catch a glimpse of his cutie mark as he turned away, but his lab coat covered it up. “But since you’re here now,” he continued, “why don’t we see what you make of this?” He drew back the sheet on the table with a flourish.

Shining Armour took a step back. He gagged, turning a pale shade of green. “Is this an autopsy?” he demanded. “You could have warned me that this was an autopsy!”

“Was the room not warning enough?” The doctor’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m sorry. When you’re ready, then.”

Allowing himself a glare, Shining Armour moved forward. No matter what horrors he’d seen, he reflected, either in training or in service, nothing could ever prepare anypony for the sight of a foal lying still and partly cut open on a table. “Wait a minute,” he said, staring at her intact, still-smiling face. “I know her. This is one of my sister’s friends. She... she was a flower filly at my wedding.” He held in a shudder and turned sharply towards the doctor. “All right, what’s going on here? Who are you?”

“Red Cross,” the doctor said, introducing himself with a shallow bow. “Assistant head of the Canterlot Medical Board, and as of now, your new assistant.”

Shining Armour glared suspiciously. “I wasn’t aware that even the Board had the authority to conduct autopsies in secret,” he said. “Or to send letters to me personally about secret threats to Equestria.”

“We don’t. Nor do I have the authority to section off an unused part of a central hospital for myself, elect some of your guard as my temporary staff, or own or operate some of the equipment that brought this crisis to my attention. And yet,” he gestured around, “by the grace of Celestia, here we are. Suffice to say, I’m... somepony our Princess trusts to get things done. And since we’ve reached the point in this investigation where I need your help as much as you need mine, what say we skip the legalities and I simply, as you’re about to put it, start talking?”

Red Cross offered him a chair, but Shining Armour remained standing. “All right,” the captain said, not able to catch himself in time. “Start talking.”

“Excellent.” The doctor picked up some notes from his desk, but didn’t look at them as he started talking. “Two days ago, we began picking up a strange energy signature from somewhere in the vicinity of Seaddle. Until a more appropriate descriptor can be found, it has been categorized simply as Identity Thirty-Three. It would appear in seemingly random bursts of size and intensity, but as no urgent news came out of the town, we decided that the signal was benign... until last night. A small burst of Identity Thirty-Three appeared in nearby Ponyville, close enough that we were able to pinpoint its exact point of origin. And right in the middle of it...” He nodded to the table. “Was her. Curled up on her own doorstep, looking like she was only asleep, with... that on her flank.”

Red Cross grabbed a medical prong and gently lifted her leg, bringing her cutie mark into view. A set of white circles was emblazoned onto her side. Shining Armour took note of this, a dull anger burning in him. “So you... just went down there and snatched her away in the night?”

“Not me personally, but yes.” Red Cross took note of the guard’s expression. “Don’t worry, we’ll patch her up before we send her back. We’re not monsters. But this does not change the fact that a filly has been murdered on Equestrian soil, by an entity or entities unknown. That’s why we’ve brought in the best of the best to solve this case and stop it from ever happening again.” He saluted. “Sir.”

Shining Armour straightened up; now these were words he understood. He moved towards the desk and looked over the notes again, this time with a more critical eye. “What do we have so far?” he asked.

“Only what I’ve told you. My own resources are, I’m afraid, somewhat limited.” He drew the captain’s eye to a list he’d made earlier. “This is where you come in. We need seasoned guards to go to Seaddle and report on everything that’s happened within the past few days. We need all the information you can find on this filly and her connection to said events. And we need someone with access to the family archives to see if that abstract cutie mark has ever been seen on ponies before now.”

“All right.” Shining Armour nodded, familiarity returning to him. “And while I’m doing that, I need you to give me everything you’ve got on Identity Thirty-Three. When it appeared, on what frequencies, and exactly what you used to track it. Don’t hide anything from me. We’re turning this conspiracy into an investigation.”

“Exactly what I was hoping to hear,” Red Cross said, snapping off another salute. “When would you like it by?”

“As soon as possible.” Shining Armour walked up to the autopsy table, squashing the queasiness in his stomach to stare determinedly down at her smiling face. “If we’re going to avenge poor Scooteroll, we need to know everything possible about what killed her.”

Red Cross coughed. “Ah, actually, that’s the interesting part. Identity Thirty-Three didn’t kill her.”

“What?” Shining Armour looked back in confusion. “Then what did?”

“Nopony knows.” Red Cross walked up beside him. “I’ve had three doctors in here today besides me, and we’ve all agreed on the same thing. She’s clean. Not only is there no Identity Thirty-Three in her, she’s suffered no tissue damage, ingested no toxins, and has none of the interior burns or discoloration that would indicate a magical attack. The only trace of any magic in her is the standard preservation spell we used to keep her from decomposing. No, we’re not dealing with any weapon Equestria’s ever seen,” he concluded, shaking his head. “It’s as if something reached right past her body... and plucked out her soul.”