April 21, 1772.
What a day! First we get invited to a wedding where my brother was marrying my old foalsitter! At first, I thought she changed, but turns it was much more simple than that. She had been replaced a Changeling! Nopony believed me at first when I said she was evil, but I guess I was kind of being a brat about it. My friends and I managed to fix everything, with a little help from Cadence and Shining Armor of course. Come to think of it, it really came down to me, Shining Armor, and Cadence, but I won't hold that against them.
After we beat the Changelings, we had the best wedding ever. But after she appointed the happy couple married, she disappeared from the celebration. I guess she had royal business to attend to.
April 22, 1772.
That's funny … Princess Celestia seems to be avoiding me. I try to talk her, but she looks away and says she needs to be somewhere else. Is she feeling bad about not believing me about "Cadence" being evil?
May 12, 1772
Whew! Okay. I was worried there for awhile, but I was right! Princess Celestia was feeling bad about it. She invited me over to apologize. I told her it was okay. We had tea. Everything seemed fine, but when I left, I saw her frown again.
October 7, 1772.
Guess who just got invited to go an expedition to a place she's never heard of before!
That's right. Me! Celestia asked me to accompany her on an expedition to recover artifacts from a castle that was long since destroyed. She says she only recently got our foreign allies in other lands to grant us access. Typical bureaucracy, I guess. I'm so excited! Before I moved to Ponyville, I used to do so many assignments with the Princess and ever since I got here I just . . . haven't had the time. Too busy with my friends, I guess.
September 9, 1772.
I'm staying in a hotel in Canterlot for the last couple of days. It's been raining. A lot. It doesn't bug me there. I guess life in the country has changed me, because I hear the Canterlot ponies talking about it being "the worst storm in years" but it doesn't hold a candle to Ponyville's lightest spring rains.
I went to get an apple fritter, like Applejack makes. I met Shining Armor while eating. He gave me his raincoat, even though I said I didn't mind the rain. Ugh! Does he ever listen to me? We had a talk. He said he didn't want me to go to Brennenburg with Celestia and hadn't talked Celestia out of only because she was the Princess. He heard rumors about awful things happening there. Fires. Ponies going insane. Creatures made of flesh sewn together. You know, typical horror story nonsense. I told him I wasn't going to cancel a trip with the Princess just because it made him feel uncomfortable. I went on my way to meet Celestia, who was talking with some of the other professors who would be on the dig.
Suddenly the stories Shining told me sprang into my mind and I, uncharacteristically being not skeptical, asked Celestia about them. Celestia told me that her foreign friends gave their assurances that while there was something evil in the castle once, it disappeared around the same time the castle mysteriously collapsed.
We went on the trip. We should have stopped. There were all sorts of warning signs before the castle ruins. It started with "WELCOME TO BRENNENBURG. TURN BACK NOW." Unsettling. I started to get unnerved. And not in the usual sense. It felt like there was actually something physical, something alive telling me to get out. But Celestia promised me she would defend me from any nasty creatures.
When we arrived and started digging, I found an orb. A beautiful, intricate arm. It entranced me. Celestia eventually noticed that I was so still and took the orb from me. But then she got entranced by it herself. There was a horrifying roar and one of the professors went insane and tried to attack us, saying we were changelings. He tackled me and was about to hurt me when Celestia blew a bloody hole in his chest. The blood got on my tongue. To my shock and disgust, I discovered I liked the taste of it.
We cut the expedition short to get me and the poor professor back to the hospital.
September 11, 1772.
Huh. Princess Celestia is acting weird again. She seems jumpy and tired. Any questions directed to her were met with mumbling and passive agreeing to whatever was being put forth to her. Her eyes were bloodshot, like she had been drinking too much coffee. Or maybe she needed a cup of coffee. She looks almost … pale. I never thought I see the Princess of the Sun looking like she needs more sun.
September 14, 1772
Oh, dear Celestia … wait, that's not right at all. I see what's wrong with the Princess now. That orb we retrieved from Brennenburg …
Shining Armor invited me to the castle, saying Princess had a super-special, top-secret assignment for me. Imagine my shock and alarm when Shining Armor leads me to a room, and inside, on a pedestal, is the orb! I took it away from Celestia for a reason! Seeing it, I had a flashback to Brennenburg and ran out of the room screaming. In hindsight, not my best move, as I'm sure several ponies saw me and are wondering why the Princess' student was screaming through the halls.
September 17, 1772
I've decided. I wasn't sure about it at first, but I've decided I'm going to sneak into the castle tonight and steal the orb. That thing has some sort of hold over Celestia, and I need to get it as far away from her as possible. I'll hide it in my library until I figure out what to do about it. Celestia would never think to look for it there. She wouldn't ever think I'd do something to defy her like that.
September 18, 1772
Well, I've stolen the orb and hid it in the basement. Celestia doesn't seem to know what happened. She has guards searching all over the castle for clues, but she doesn't seem to suspect me.
(September 19, 1772)
Still doing good. Princess Celestia sent me a letter this morning asking if I knew what happened to the orb. I sent a gentle-worded reply saying in as many clear, non-conspicuous words I could think of that I did not know.
. . .
Well, so much for that plan. Princess Celestia sent me another letter this evening. It read as follows:
You took it, didn't you?
September 23, 1772
Nah, nah, nah, I'm not listening!
At least that's the way I've been feeling lately, Journal. Princess Celestia keeps sending more and more letters demanding I give the orb back. I sent a reply to everyone saying I had no idea where the orb was and I didn't take it. I feel horrible, lying to her like that. But I have to. She's not herself! I … I'm not really lying to Celestia, I'm lying to whatever thing is inside that wants the orb. Just until I figure out how to cure her. I need to study the orb … or better yet, destroy it
…
AGH! I tried everything! Smashing, blasting it, using magic on it, trying to make explode, smashing it again, putting into boiling water, putting it into freezing water and trying to smash a third time when it was more brittle and nothing's worked! It's like it's invincible or something! I stopped trying to destroy it and instead tried to purge of its magic, hoping that would fix the Princess. But nothing worked there, either! Every way to dispel magic I know failed to yield any tangible results! She's still sending me letters demanding the orb …
…
I should be getting ready to go to bed. But I can't. I'm too worried about Celestia. I need to figure out something. I doubt simple returning the orb to Brennenburg will solve the issue.
I decided to experiment. I remembered how I liked the taste of blood while at Brennenburg. I wanted to know if that was natural, or if it had something to do with Brennenburg itself. So I … took a letter opening and gave myself a tiny slit on the hoof, then I sucked up the bleeding with my mouth. And it … it still tasted good. Really good.
Delicious, even.
. . . Oh dear Celestia, what's wrong with me?
September 26, 1772
Hmm. Celestia's constant letters seem to be taking their toll on Spike. He's asked me what's going that the Princess is sending me so many letters about it. I want to tell him … but I wouldn't want him to worry, either. I've decided to start ignoring them anyway.
Anyways, I found some old papers from Brennenburg and … they seem to describe the strange creatures Shining Armor was talking about. I wonder, is it possible to make a living creature out of stitched flesh? The papers describe one "variant" of these things as having a metal limb … is that possible? I think some experimenting is in order …
…
Started small with the experiments. Made a prosthetic hoof that fits over a real hoof, like armor. But it was fully functional, just like a real hoof, only bigger. As a wearable piece, it's fine, but is it really possible for something like this to replace a limb?
. . .
Fluttershy came over today. She asked me about the huge pile of letters that were on the floor. I pretended like I didn't know what she was talking about it at first. But then she kept asking me questions! So I used my magic to burn them all into cinders.
She didn't ask me anymore questions after that.
We started having more normal conversations, and I happened to mention my experiment with the prosthetic hoof. She was curious, so I showed it to her. She seemed confused by it.
Say, I wonder if she and the rest of friends would be willing to help with further experiments?
October 1, 1772
I … I cut myself again. To drink my blood. So good. The metal taste makes me think of machines. Ugh. Seriously, I need to go see a mental doctor or something. This isn't healthy. Or maybe I should find an actual vampire and get myself turned into one. I'll have to think about that one. Visit a ravenous life-sucking monster, or find a vampire?
I did more research into these flesh-monsters. They were apparently either victims of some poisoned wine, or of a mysterious creature that lurks in the darkness. The notes go back and forth on this one, like the people writing them couldn't agree on what it was.
…
Invited Rarity and Rainbow Dash over to see if they were willing to volunteer for experiments. Rainbow Dash was "game" for it. I started making more prosthetic hooves for her and wings made out of metal blades that would fit over her wings, but I … I don't know what came over me.
I stabbed one of the blades into her hoof, and drank the blood out of it. All they did was give me stares before Rainbow Dash gently took her hoof away and they both excused themselves. I can't blame them. Hopefully I can get a chance to explain everything to them.
October 9, 1772
Well, that's a relief! Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy got Applejack and Pinkie Pie and brought them all to the library for an "intervention." I explained to them I didn't need any interventions, I just discovered I liked the taste of blood and lost control of myself yesterday. That's all! Nothing to worry about. After clearing that up – and telling them several times there was nothing to worry about, and I wasn't going to do it again – I asked them if they would like to help with my experiments. I've been finding lots of interesting things in the Brennenburg papers. To my surprise and joy, they were up for it. They were nervous, but they were it up for it! I made an entire metal leg this time!
Also, Celestia's started slowing down the trail of letters. I'm not sure what happened. Maybe she had to go attend some other business to fool other ponies into thinking she was fine. Maybe she realized I stopped responding. Maybe she's realized I'm not going to give her the orb.
Whatever.
October 10, 1772.
I went searching and found some books in the deeper parts of the library about speculative biology. They had lots of speculative theories about how to make a flesh-creature functional and with metal implants. I started sketching some preliminary ideas about to combine this knowledge with the papers for Brennenburg to discover how a flesh-creature like Shining Armor described could have been made.
My friends came over again today. I showed them my sketches and told them I wanted their help in proving that a creature could have metal limbs! They were hesitant this time, and Applejack moved to tell me something before Spike came running in, burping out a letter. Fluttershy swiftly got to it before I could blast it with my magic. She explained to the others about me burning the letters, then opened it and read it out loud. What she read out made no sense coming from the Princess … unless one knew about the orb and its hold on her, which they didn't. They were so confused. They all looked at me.
I wanted to keep it a secret. I wanted to fix it myself, in secret, before anypony had to know about it. But they all looked at me so worried and desperate. Everything came spilling out. I told them about Brennenburg, about the orb, about Celestia, about how I stole the orb. They told me I shouldn't have kept this all a secret from them. They're right. I shouldn't have.
...
We took the train to Canterlot to see Shining Armor tell him about it all. But he didn't believe us! He didn't believe me! He never believes me anymore, not with the Changeling Cadence, not when I tell him I can take care of myself, not with Princess Celestia. He told us we should give the orb back! The nerve of him! Fine. Who cares what you think, anyway!? "Ooh, look at me, I'm Shining Armor, I'm all big and responsible and tough and who cares what my sister thinks because she's just a little filly!" HMPH!
After we got back, everypony else changed their mind about helping with my experiments. They're such good friends!
October 11, 1772.
Such extremely good friends. They let me start cutting into them! They let me start putting them under and performing examinations on their unconscious bodies to discover the mystery of the flesh-creatures. That takes an awful lot of trust for them to let me knock them out with medical grade drugs! So trusting … such wonderful friends I have … we're gonna have so much fun experimenting! We'll discover new things, wonderful things, about the limits of pony biology! We'll invent new medicines, new cures for diseases! It'll be great!
October 25, 1772
. . .
. . .
What have I done?
I've turned all my friends into monsters. I've succeeded in recreating the flesh-monsters with iron hooves … with my own friends! I cut into them and I … I altered them. I just made those iron wings for Rainbow Dash as a prototype! I didn't mean to replace her wings with them! And Fluttershy and Rarity … they have all kinds of mutations and metal limbs and it's all my fault!
[The page is wrinkled with stains from tears.]
I ask them why. Why didn't they stop me? Why didn't they say something? Why didn't they … fight me, if they had to? They said they could tell keeping the orb a secret and fighting some sort of secret war with Celestia was having an effect on me. They knew I needed some way to relieve my stress, and by the time they themselves realized how far off the deep end I had gone, it was too late anyway!
Oh, they're such good friends … they were trying to help me. Granted, stopping and shouting at me might have helped better, but they were trying. Such wonderful friends of mine … and I butchered them like pigs!
It's the orb's fault! It must have … influenced me like it did Celestia, only more subtly! Or it's the stress. The stress did it. The stress and the orb! All the letters Celestia sent me, calling my names, saying I was a failure and -
No, no. It's my fault. It's all my fault. My head is clear. I can't blame anyone for my mistake. But maybe now that the fog is gone from my mind, I can start to work on reversing the processes of what I did.
November 1, 1772
Oh, of all the …
Princess Celestia sent Shining Armor and a squadron of guards to raid the library in search of the orb! I had to engage Shining Armor in a magical duel. I won. I beat him. I beat him, and I scared the other guards into retreating with him. But I feel so guilty! My own brother … Princess, why? WHY? That explains why she stopped sending letters at least. She was planning on sending Shining Armor to do her dirty when she stopped. And I know the guards will be away for awhile, but their loyalty to Celestia is absolute. They'll come back until they either get what they want or Celestia calls them off. And given her mental state right now, that's not likely.
I feel so horrible. Celestia's gone insane, and I can't fix it even though I know what's wrong. I still have that awful orb inside my house. I've been trying to fix what I did to my friends, my kind, wonderful, caring friends, but I can't undo anything with the royal guard putting the library under siege! And I had to fight my brother … not just an argument, or a spat, but a no-rules fight to the finish, winner take all! And now Shining Armor's seen what I did to my friends!
I feel so horrible about it all. So guilty. So bad I … I just want it all to go away. I just want …I don't have a plan. I always have a plan! I'm the pony in our group who comes up with the plans! Oh, I just
I think …
I … I don't … I don't know what to do.
I … want it all to just go away. I want – I think …
I think want to kill myself.
Yes, yes. That sounds like a good solution. Shining Armor won't fight me. I don't have to deal with the orbs, and my wonderful loving friends won't have to deal with the fact that their best friend turned them into horrific monsters! Yes … the sweet peace of death.
...
...
…
…
…
Second Journal of Twilight Sparkle, May 23, 1782.
Hmmm.
Yes, yes, well, picking off from where we left off, the "suicide attempt" - and that's being generous - was a bust. I set off an explosive spell in the library, and to all outward appearances, we perished, and the Orb was lost in the fire. We survived and made our escaped into the wilderness. Now, we live off what we can, taking in the generosity of strangers, fruits from unclaimed territories, and making sure no pony who sees realizes we're the former representatives of the Element of Harmony.
I suppose you're curious about a few things, Journal II. Well, after the explosion at the library and we led the world to believe we were dead, we went for a life on the lamb, or say the saying goes. It's been years since I last had access to my original journal, so I've christened you "Journal The Second." Why do I capitalize the "Orb" when I did not before? Well, let's just say I've learned several things that I did not know before.
May 30, 1782.
The girls have informed me of their desire to quit running around like criminal scum and settle down somewhere, with a normal life, like what we had before. Unfortunately, so much has happened, so much has changed, that I do not think it possible for us to go back to the way we were. However, I do respect their desire for a more stable life. Not yet, though. I had to assure them. Not yet. Not while ponies still remember us as the ponies who bore the Elements. When time passes, and we fade from memory, then we can settle down.
June 5, 1782.
Yet more proof that we need to wait! Today, we were buying some fruit from a vendor using gains we got from performing menial labor, and he nearly recognized us as Princess Celestia's former aides! If this isn't enough proof we need to lay low for awhile, I don't know what is.
June 15, 1782.
Applejack's informed she wants to talk to her sister. I've been making sure we paid regular visits to Ponyville, so she and Rarity didn't miss their sisters growing up. It was always observation – only – no contact. I suppose perhaps I should let them talk … very well. I will allow it.
July 1, 1782.
Finally made it back to Ponyville. We met with the Cutie Mark Crusaders – who have since gotten their Cutie Marks – out in the back orchard of Sweet Apple Acres. We made it clear to them that they could no pony they had seen us. They seemed to understand.
July 8, 1782.
Oh dear, oh dear. We couldn't have come at a better time, could we? The Cutie Mark Crusaders got together with some gear to go Crusading one more time, for old time's sake. I'm not sure what they were doing, but they crashed and now they're in the hospital together.
The rest of their families are to soon receive notices informing them of the hospital stay.
July 9, 1782.
Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash were insistent on not leaving the bedsides of the Crusaders. I suppose I can't blame them. If something happened to -
[There is a sudden scrawl, like something made the writer's hoof lose control and veer randomly. The word "Shining Armor" is messily crossed out.]
If something happened to somepony close to me, I wouldn't want to leave their bedside either. It's commendable, really, the dedication between two sisters …
July 10, 1782.
Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle's and Scootaloo's injuries are worse than we thought. The hospital staff has told they may not make it.
Say, I've done some amazing work with Fluttershy and Rarity, as well as Applejack. Perhaps I could …
July 11, 1762.
Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom all passed away. The doctors did all they could, but it wasn't enough. Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack never left their sides the entire time, holding their hooves to the last, even as the monitors flatlined. The doctors insist they have done all they can.
But I am no doctor.
I can do more.
July 12, 1782.
I've made an absolutely fascinating discovery. Hospital staff really, really don't like it when you break into their morgue and make off with their corpses. We've been galloping all day. Honestly, the complaints they had. "Their families need to be notified!" boo-hoo-hoo. Rarity, Dash, and Applejack ARE their family and they've been notified. They got their bodies plum strap to their backs, see? Hard to get a better notification than that.
July 13, 1782.
So it turns out the Ponyville Hospital takes corpse-napping extremely seriously. We've been galloping for a day and a half now, and the hospital security is still trying to run us down with their van. Bah. We've managed to hide from them for now, but we need a plan of action to escape them before they catch us and drag us back to the Princess.
July 15, 1782.
We've determined the best course of action is to go to Hoofington and set up a camp there. It's distant and disconnected from the rest of Equestria, so its unlikely they will recognize us from our … former lives. We'll start the march tonight.
July 17, 1782.
Goodness, this ponies are absolutely determined to retrieve these bodies. As we were coming up on the border outside Ponyville, we found a checkpoint with royal guards stationed about. I could tell they were looking for us, waiting for us to show, hoping we'd be coming this way. Curses! We'll have to fight through them. We'll use our wagon. We'll stuff it full of our things and used it as ram.
February 17, 1790.
That took far longer than it had any right to. Eight years to get to Hoofington, dogged every direction we went by guards and coppers who wanted the Crusaders' bodies back. They can't have the bodies back. I need them – we need them for experimentation. Can you not see the grief on fair Rarity's face? Or the emptiness in Rainbow Dash's eyes? No, no. We will not lay the Cutie Mark Crusaders to rest.
There will be no need for that … as soon I get the resources. Girls, we're goin' SHOPPING! Nyah ha ha ha ha!
February 18, 1790.
I don't entirely trust that we're free of that tyrant Celestia's all-seeing gaze just yet. So we're going to continue laying low for now. Carry on as we have been, only now we have a dedicated hideaway. A nice little visit on the outskirts of Hoofington, out near the mountains. They're lovely this time of year, covered in beautiful snow and ice. Exquisitely pure and … pure and … virgin.
February 19, 1790.
I've instructed the girls to bury the Crusaders inside the grounds of the mountain. If my calculations are correct – and they usually are – the frigid temperature will preserve their bodies, at least until we can get until we can get our hooves on some quality embalming fluid.
February 20, 1790.
We've gotten the embalming fluid, found some unused trash cans in the garage, cleaned them out, and used them as coffins for the Crusaders. We're going into every scrapyard and garbage dump in Hoofington for materials.
[The remaining entries all unremarkable, repetitive muttering about needing parts and scavenging. Some of them are incoherent and suggest mental disorders. The repetitive entries continue until the March of 1850.]
March 4, 1850.
[There is one page that appears to have a complex mathematical diagram that stops half-way into it and veers into random scribbling with no form to it. …]
March 5, 1850.
I have decided something.
I loathe my former mentor. SO MUCH. Dear Celestia, how I hate … Celestia. For betraying me. For abandoning me. For using my own family as a sword against me. So I've decided to spite her. I've taken some flesh samples from myself, had the girls fetch more materials from Hoofington. It wasn't enough. Apparently, there's been a rise in crime on the town lately … criminals like thieves, murderers, and deviants. I'm sure nopony would mind if one of these crooks were to mysteriously disappear. I need more before I can make project. Besides, the Cutie Mark Crusaders still need fixing. They need more spinal fluid.
...
Huzzah! With the … donations from some forcibly relocated – I refuse to say "foalnapped" criminals, I've crafted a pair of artificial wings that I have stitched and grafted onto myself. There. How do you like them apples, Princes? Now I'm a Princess too!
March 8, 1850.
Ah, the wings have proven troublesome. They bleed at their bases. Profusely. I suppose it's nice to have a spot of blood always on hoof, but it quickly gets cumbersome and distracting during conversations. Sometimes they lock up and refuse to flap as well.
March 10, 1850.
Following my decision, the girls have informed of a decision of their own. They want a house. A house and a proper roof over their heads, not the tarp on some posts we've been using. But more importantly, they don't want just a house. They want a home. They want to give something back to the community that we've been scavenging the leftovers off of for so long. I suppose the nomadic lifestyle would get tiring after …. sixty years? That can't be right. Oh well. I'll make some plans. I'll ingratiate myself to the community!
I suppose living in a house with a roof would be nice …
March 17, 1850.
It took a while, but I finally found a decent pony who was willing to take me in. Her name is Heart Throb, and she's very pretty and nice. She wanted to keep an eye on me at first, but after her husband and I sat down and had a lot talk, she was fine with me staying. I say talk. It was really more of an interrogation. But I made him aware of my credentials and that I wasn't going to hurt his children. I think they've accepted me.
Although … she called me an "Alicorn." Disgusting word, "Alicorn."
March 19, 1850.
Oh, nostalgia! Heart Throb's asked me to tutor her kids, since she can tell I'm an educated pony. Teaching these foals study techniques and explaining to them why science and math doesn't have to be boring makes me think of the good old days back when I was a student.
….
I shouldn't think about that.
March 22, 1850.
Heart Throb sat down with me for lunch today. She mentioned there had been a murder recently. Horrific crime. Apparently one colt stabbed his classmate several times over. Sounds like a foal after my own heart. But she went on about how the parents of the accused were trying to use an insanity defense. I sipped my tea and told her I could tell if he was truly insane at the time of the crime. Then she asked about my wings …
March 23, 1880.
I've decided to go into the police precinct today. This will help my goals, certainly. I went inside and demanded to see the child, who I know was in their custody. The coppers were all very hesitant to agree to my demands, but eventually they relented and allowed my interview with the colt. I asked him questions. Specific questions. Questions that made no sense to a regular pony … but questions that made perfect sense to the mentally deranged like ourselves. He answered eagerly, excitedly. And I knew that he, like me, was in a complete and calm state of mind at the time he murdered his fellow.
I went outside the interrogation room and informed the coppers of my discovery. After giving my thanks to the chief for his cooperation, he asked where I was staying. I told him and I left.
After I returned to Heart Throb, I was upset to hear a dispatch had visited her and asked her questions. I also had to apologize for worrying her. I should have been polite enough to leave a note.
Later, Heart Throb discovered a clog in the sink. Her husband tried to fix it, but none of his tools were working right. I offered up using her potato peeler; it was thinner than anything else her husband and could probably to pick at the debris.
March 24, 1850.
Mostly uneventful today, save for some more tutoring time with Heart Throb's foals.
….
Well, that changed quickly overnight. I was up late tonight, looking for a towel and some medicinal liquids for my bleeding wings when I happened upon a pony in a mask, rummaging through the home. I picked a frying pan and set upon with the ferocity of a beast! He wisely decided to retreat before I could kill him. Unfortunately, the commotion disturbed Heart Throb's slumber. I had to assure her everything was fine after explaining what happened. I went ahead and washed my wings afterward.
March 25, 1850.
That's unsettling news. Apparently the child-murderer – that is, the murderer that is a child, not a murderer who kills children, though I suppose he's actually both – has been declared not guilty by reason of insanity in his murder trial. Disgusting. I imagine a bribe on the part of the parents helped to turn some cheeks the other way.
I've had to inform Heart Throb I will be leaving her today. She seemed quite upset at the news. She did manage to convince me to stay for one last dinner. I promised Heart Throb I would find her would-have-been robber and make him pay for his crimes.
I hate these criminals. Unsavory, disgusting. They are akin to pigs. They have no concept of neither filth nor cleanliness. I will rid this town, and eventually the world, of its pigs.
I made sure to take knife from Heart Throb's drawer before I left. I am going to give that family a little visit …
March 26, 1850.
I simply left the rich family's bodies in their houses for the police to discover. As I watch a news report, I realize that may have not been the best of ideas. I received wind of the copper's plans to transport the bodies to the morgue for storage and autopsy.
Thankfully, my friends had the capabilities for the heist. During the copper's ride into the street, we hacked into the lights of the district, disabled, then while the coppers were scared witless, we stole the corpses and replaced them with clever fakes. More materials for us to use, yes … then we turned the lights back on. I'm sure that one Earth pony – what was it, Flathoof?- will be struggling to explain this to his boss. Perhaps I should pay him a visit.
March 27, 1850.
I went into the precinct and struck a conversation with the chief. He apparently didn't believe his officers' story about the lights going out and the corpses being stolen. Stubbornly insistent on as such too. I managed to convince him to put the fakes bodies back in the wagon and give them a chance to prove their story. An excellent chance to prove to these ponies that I am trustworthy individual whose judgments can be trusted completely.
I gave the girls their instructions and set them in position, and accompanied the coppers in their station wagon as they rode down the road. On cue, the lights went. There was a gunshot. When the lights went on, it was revealed that one of the officers had panicked and fired blindly. The chief seemed convinced that his officers were being truthful when he saw the panicked officer nearly shot him in the face. They were also fairly distressed to see new corpses put in place of the fake bodies. Ah yes, the bodies of the crook I used for my first set of wings. I'll probably make a new set. Note: must steal bodies back from the police.
In the aftermath of it, the police chief, mayor, and town council all agreed to shut down the street and start a relocation program for the poor ponies inside. The street would be closed and barred up, condemned as a place of mystery and horror. The criminals in the street would use the dead street as a base, certainly.
… putting them all in one convenient place for my friends and I to pick them off as we need new materials.
For good measure, I put in a word about Flathoof to the ruling bodies of the town. Then, when he inevitably gets the promotion – as per my manipulations – he'll feel like he owes me. So tomorrow, I'll ask him to do his best to make sure no self-respecting citizen goes near the closed street, guaranteeing no innocent pony will stumble on my improvised … shopping center. For materials. Never enough materials.
March 28, 1850.
Put in that request to Flathoof. He agreed to it. Now, everypony in that street will be guaranteed to be a criminal, as no law-abiding pony will go near it. Thus making sure I will not use an innocent for materials. Like Heart Throb. Dear, sweet Heart Throb …
Likewise, with my help on the case, the mayor agreed to sell me a deed for the territory near the mountains my friends and I had used as a camp. They'll be so happy! He also agreed to hire a contractor for the construction of a facility for me to use.
March 30, 1850.
I had a dream. A prophetic dream. A dream that speaks of things to come. I heard a roar. A terrifying, familiar roar. A roar of a beast who walked through shadows and swam through air. I was in an industrial complex, like there's going to be in the facility. I was breathing heavily, breathing hard. Then there was another roar. Different this time, monstrous, deep, hollow … mechanical. Then I saw it. A machine. No, no, a Machine! A great and powerful Machine! A Machine that would allow me to achieve anything I wanted … a Machine that would rid the world of its pigs!
A Machine whose spark of life, whose seed of birth was not my own, but that of another. Of another pony, an Earth pony, with a beige coat and a wealth of ideas. A pony who had an experience with one of the Orbs, just as I have. A pony whose birth-name is Gaswield Industry, but he goes by the name taken from a foreign poem …
By the name … Oswald Mandus.
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….
"Oh, Twilight Sparkle." Celestia cried, reading Twilight's first journal whilst on her throne. "If I could take it all back, I would." When the fire happened, the Orb disappeared, and Celestia's mind became her own again. And she realized the damage that had been done with her relationship to Twilight. She had Guards dig all they could from the library so Celestia could hold onto the mementos.
A Guard marched towards her, bowing. "Your Majesty, a visitor for you."
Celestia magically closed the book and hid it in her wing. "Send him in."
The Guard nodded. The double doors opened. Out stepped a beige-brownish coated Earth pony, wearing a fetching rust-red top hat and suit.
Celestia raised her neck, curious. "I know you."
"Do you?"
"Yes. I've seen your face in the papers. But more pertinently, you were at a party with myself and Fancypants, and you spilled grape juice on my chest, Mister Oswald Mandus."
Oswald blush. He nervously bowed. "Er, yes."
"You know," Celestia said, walking down the royal steps, "Oswald Mandus is not a very Equestrian name."
Oswald bowed. "Some might say I am not a very Equestrian pony."
"Hm. Handsome and clever with words." Celestia said, coming near him with a flirty smile. "You're just the whole package, aren't you?"
Oswald's blushed intensified. "Erm, yes, well ..." he cleared his throat. "I've received an interesting business proposition and was hoping to get your blessing."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I've been invited by Twilight Sparkle to help her with some prospects. I'm aware you used to have a relationship with her with a bad falling out and I wanted to be sure you were fine with me doing business with her."
Celestia's smile faded. "Yes, of course. Do as your like. I won't put any conditions on you."
Mandus nodded. "Thank you, Your Majesty. You are gracious." Oswald turned to leave the room.
"Actually," Celestia spoke, causing Mandus to jump nearly out of his skin. "There is one thing ..."
Mandus turned around, showing a confused frown.
"Twilight Sparkle is dead. Has been for some hundred-odd-something years." Celestia calmly walked back to her throne.
Mandus froze.