//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 – Restless Shades 
// Story: Last Resort 
// by myothercarisapony 
//------------------------------//

The buildings were low-set affairs, with flat rooftops of weathered concrete.  The packing was tight, each of the identically-constructed dwellings slotted in after the last, with only the occasional gap to cater for connecting pathways below.  The late afternoon sun was still shining, although the majority fell on the rooftops, leaving the ponies below to travel in dim light that was merely adequate.

They moved with purpose.  These alleyways were no place to linger.  It was no surprise that the majority were earth ponies, and unicorns were easy enough to spot in the mingle, bearing as they did the gift of light to bring to any areas of particular shadow.  A more curious aspect was the pegasi amongst them.  Perhaps occasionally one would pause, gazing up at the sky, frowning at the glorious day they could be bathing in.  Perhaps one of them was even looking up when the pony shot between the tops of the buildings above.

The stallion rolled forward as he hit the rooftop, wings clamped to his side.  As he righted once more, he sprang to his hooves and continued his gallop, launching himself into the air yet again, sailing effortlessly across the next gap.

The sun’s golden warmth glistened off the film of sweat that clung to his fur.  How wretched were the ponies below, crawling in the dark when they could be bathing in the sunlight!  And was he not proof that anypony could do it, if they so chose? All it took was simple dedication.

The no-fly zone near the wall wasn’t racist in intent, but it could hardly fail to affect one pony subgroup in particular.  This particular pegasus had taken it in his stride.  He was already volunteering at the dilapidated gym, spending his free time cleaning and sweeping, in exchange for free access to the machines.  A pegasus was always in danger of neglecting his own four legs, he’d thought.  If he really was going to get outside these walls one day, he couldn’t let that happen.  Especially not now it was more than just a dream.

His ‘solution’ to the no-fly zone hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course.  There had been angry exchanges with the Lodestar border police.  He’d even trained himself to climb the walls of the buildings, to ensure he made no use of his wings at any point.  They couldn’t deny he was keeping to the letter of the law.  Infuriated as they were, they had no choice but to let him go, every time.

It settled into routine.  He continued to maintain all six of his limbs in top condition, and kept his leg reflexes well-honed with his fast-paced rooftop travel.  He’d avoid altercations with that damn head guard pony’s little cabal of uptight control-freaks where he could, and challenged them to find the law he was breaking when he couldn’t.

The fateful day had been the head guard’s hosting of a Government official.  An audit.  The idea was to prove the watertight security of the Lodestar border, to demonstrate the total security afforded to their beloved Republic.

The pegasus had his suspicions that alcohol was involved.  Be that as it may, the additional pressures of the audit made the head guard even less forgiving than usual, and the pegasus happened to be making his way across the rooftops in plain sight of the guard and his guest during a tour of the wall.  The guard had flown into a rage on sight, ordering his military police to subdue the ‘no-fly-zone-violator’.

The pegasus put up a good fight, but ultimately stood little chance.  When he was dragged, bound, in front of the Government official, the head guard spouting off about him being a known troublemaker, he knew his days were numbered.

Or so he’d thought.  To the Head Guard’s horror, the Official was both highly amused and extremely impressed by what he’d witnessed.  It had taken four well-equipped border police to apprehend this fledgling pegasus, a pegasus who lacked even a cutie mark.  And he had displayed a strong, independent attitude, a willingness to find ways around pesky restrictions.

Apparently, they were looking for ponies like that.

The pegasus was offered the opportunity to join the Government’s exclusive programme.  No details were given, and selection was not guaranteed, but it was sold as an opportunity to work outside Lodestar’s claustrophobic wall.

Of course he’d agreed.

So he’d kept up his training regimen, now supplemented by schooling from the best masters Lodestar had to offer, to hone his natural martial skills.

His cutie mark still hadn’t appeared.  It was no bother to him.  He knew his own heart, and nopony was stupid enough to give him a hard time about his blank flank.

He launched himself off another rooftop.

He wasn’t looking to beat his record.  Not this time.  The sun was wonderful, and he was going to savour it.

“What the—?  Get your filthy hooves—!”

He skidded to a halt, throwing up a cloud of dust.  He stood in silence.  Strained his ears to listen.  The sound had come from directly below.

“Shh shh girl, don’t make me do something I don’t wanna…”

The pegasus crept to the edge of the rooftop, and peered over.

He saw them instantly.  A dark-blue earth pony was standing behind a pegasus mare coloured a lighter shade, holding her.  A knife was strapped to his foreleg, and he had it pressed against her throat.  Ahead of them, a dark-green unicorn, grinning maliciously, was levitating a knife of his own out of a saddlebag.

“Hate ta do this and all,” he said, words at odds with his expression.  “’specially since you were nice enough to stop and listen and give ol’ Slipknot a chance to come up behind you an’ all.  But a pony’s gotta eat.  Now, if you’ll just slowly take off your bags and hoof them over…”

The mare spat, although the range was insufficient to meet her target.  “Go fuck yourselves.”

“Aw, ain’t it cute?  Looks like we got a gal with a bit of spirit, Slipknot!”  His horn glowed brighter, and the knife floated towards her face.  “Let’s see if you’re so disagreeable-like with only one eye…”

The rooftop pegasus didn’t have time to think.  He threw himself over the roof’s edge, and beat his wings to accelerate down towards the unicorn.  There was no time to slow, no time to aim properly, the knife was less than a second away from her—

He slammed into the ground, and the shockwaves battered his entire body, cracked the concrete, tingled his flanks.  The unicorn was thrown from his hooves and fell to the floor, stunned.

The knife clattered to the ground in front of the mare.

“Leave her,” the pegasus growled at Slipknot.  The scum was as wide-eyed as his would-be victim.

“D-don’t come any closer, pegasus,” stuttered Slipknot.  “I-I’ll hurt her.”  He twitched his knife-bearing hoof for good measure.  The mare’s eyes followed the blade.

The pegasus stallion hesitated.

“Y-yeah, that’s right, stay away,” Slipknot nodded.  Then he pointed his knife at the wall behind the pegasus.  “Back up agai—”

The mare punched Slipknot’s knife foreleg away whilst bucking him as hard as she could in the legs.  He staggered backwards, and recovered just in time for the mare to slam a hoof into his muzzle.  He dropped like a sack of wet sand.

“You stay down or I’ll finish you off!” the mare thundered at the stallion clutching at his face.  “And you!” she snarled, marching up to the pegasus.  “What do you think you were doing?!”

His mouth fell open.  Fell open more.  “I—what?  But didn’t I just—”

She broke into a grin.  “Aw, I’m just kidding.  Thanks for the help!”

The pegasus blinked a couple of times.  Then he let out a relieved chuckle.  “Not funny.”

“You laughed!” she grinned back.  Then she peered past him to look at the dazed unicorn.  “Stupid of me, I shoulda known he was just a distraction.  And once that knife was there, well, you’ve lost, ya know?”

“Yeah.  That was damn smooth of you, though.  Got a chance, didn’t waste it!”

“Aw, you’re sweet.”

The unicorn moaned.

The mare flicked her eyes across, and raised an eyebrow.  “Guess we should deal with ‘em.”

The pegasus nodded.  “Yeah.  Don’t really wanna kill ‘em.”

“Oh, Powers no.  Wouldn’t shed any tears if they got themselves killed, but I ain’t gonna do it.”

The pegasus nodded again, and trotted over to the unicorn.  He drew back his hoof and slapped it across the supine pony’s face.  The unicorn’s eyes blinked open.

“I don’t ever want to see you two again,” the pegasus growled.  “Next time, we’ll take turns breaking legs,” he added, looking up at the mare.  She grinned and nodded, a hoof on the back of the other felled pony.  Both defeated would-be robbers had eyes only for him.  “Now get the hell out of here.”

They staggered to their hooves, never making eye contact with the two pegasi.  They made for the nearest alleyway down the street, and slinked away out of sight.

“So what, you’re gonna come find me if you see ‘em again?” the mare asked.  “I’d hate to miss out on one of your leg-breaking dates,” she smirked.

“’Dates’?”  The pegasus stallion’s tongue mutinied and twisted in on itself.  Was his face getting warmer?  “I didn’t, uhm, well, I mean…”

“Dates for your diary, is what I meant,” the mare grinned back with her best innocent look.

“Oh right, yeah of course, sorr—“

“Of course,” the mare continued, “if we were gonna think about that, I’d have to know a bit more about you!  You got a name, big boy?  And you’re not getting away without telling me how you got that gorgeous cutie mark!”

“My cu—!”  The stallion’s head whipped around, and there it was on his flank.  A vertical bolt of solid white, ending in shockwave rings.

“Hah!  I hardly need to tell you!  You saw it for yourself!

She beamed back.  The stallion was grinning.


*      *      *


Sky Dive was scowling.

Twilight pushed the tent flap a little further aside, taking care to hide behind it as much as possible.  Yes, that was the stocky pegasus alright.  Sitting upright in the clearing and facing away from them.  Had he even moved?  These ponies must need to sleep, surely.

“Ooh, whatcha lookin’ at, Twi?”

Twilight jumped.  “Oh!  Pinkie,” she whispered.  “I just wanted to see who’s up.  Looks like we’re the first.”  She looked back at her pink tent-mate.  “Sleep okay?”

“Yes indeedy!  This pony’s ready to party the night away!”

Twilight flinched as the streamer fired out and glanced off the end of her nose.  “Maybe we should save those for when we’re back home,” she said, floating the offending item out of her companion’s mouth.  “I don’t think our new friends would appreciate the noise.”

“Aw come on Twi!” Pinkie said loudly, “Applejack stopped me bringing the really loud stu—!”

“Pinkie!” Twilight whispered, planting a hoof on the pony’s mouth.  She looked around at Sky Dive, but he didn’t seem to have reacted.  “Pinkie, please.  Just be careful, alright?  These ponies are all a bit delicate right now.  They must be.”

“Hiiih hoh ‘ach!” came Pinkie’s indignant response.

Twilight sighed and removed her hoof.

“I know that!” Pinkie said.  “Don’t worry, if anypony wants to be left alone… I will.  Pinkie promise,” she added in a mutter, her eyes moving briefly to the tent flap and back.

“Sorry, Pinkie, I know you’d know that,” Twilight mumbled.  “I just want to avoid any more, well, misunderstandings.”

Pinkie gave a solemn nod.

Twilight smiled, and then turned back to the entrance flap.  “I don’t suppose you remember if that’s the same stallion that began the watch?”


*      *      *


…ooohh…unicorns are not made for daylight slumber…

Rarity grimaced and slid a hoof out to pat the eyeshades back into position.  It took her all of a second to regret that particular decision, and she hurriedly stowed the foreleg back inside the warmth of her sleeping bag.

Warmth, not comfort.  Heavens, no.  This backpack bed may be many things (a repurposed garbage bag if that vaguely sour odour was everything her worst suspicions indicated), but comfortable was not one of them.

Oh, for a soupçon of softener, and the means with which to apply it!

And yet, her current swaddled state was preferable to the frigidity that awaited her when otherwise shorn of it.  Not soft enough to stay.  Too cold to move.

Oh, grim poetry!  The unattainability of perfection!

No.  This would not do.  The sleeping bag, this tent, they were luxuries kindly gifted by foreign ponies they barely knew.  She would not act the ungrateful foal.  She would rise to her hooves, greet the crisp evening air with aplomb, and act in the dignified manner only rightly befitting a Royal Equestrian Ambassador.

She lay—continued to lie, on her back.  The seconds dripped by.

“Fluttershy?” she sighed at last.  “Would you be a dear and pass me my scarf?”

Silence.

“Fluttershy, dear?” Rarity repeated.  Once again, only silence greeted her.  She pursed her lips, took a forehoof to her shades, and stretched one half up to uncover an eye.

Fluttershy was sitting in rigid posture on her mattress, in the dark, hugging the sleeping bag tight around her.

“Fluttershy, my dear, what’s wrong?” Rarity whispered.  She rose to her hooves, lighting her horn in a soft glow.  The bed bag slid to the floor in a heap, and Rarity was at her friend’s side, a forehoof on her shoulder.  “If it’s the smell, you can have some of the perfume I was saving; you need only but ask.”

The pegasus shivered and turned her bloodshot eyes on Rarity.

“Couldn’t you sleep, my dear?” Rarity asked.  “Nopony could blame you.”

 Fluttershy trembled.  “Th… th…”

“What is it?  Please tell me, we can put it right.”

Fluttershy stopped, swallowed, tried again.  “Th… they k-kill things.”

Rarity took in a sharp breath.  “I—surely not!  That mare with the blond and scarlet mane may have made a tasteless reference or two to such a thing,” she said, shaking her head, “but I’m sure she’s no killer at heart, Fluttershy.  And that stout, irascible pegasus of theirs knows how to obey an order, at the very least!”

“And… and Pe-, the a-animals… p-poison…?” Fluttershy almost pleaded.

Rarity’s eyes briefly widened as realisation dawned.  “Hmph!  I can assure you, that pony you spoke to shall not be harming animals under our supervision.  They follow Twilight, now.  Do you think she would for a moment allow it?”

Fluttershy released a little of the tension coiling her body.  “I… I g-guess not.”

Rarity put a hoof around her.  “We must be understanding, of course.  They may well say things to distress us, without truly meaning them.  Their ways are not our ways, you understand, and I think we can forgive them for not being able to think with clarity now, given what they must surely be going through, yes?”

Fluttershy sniffed and nodded.  “Sorry.”

“Not a word of it, my dear,” Rarity smiled.  “Let’s get you freshened up.  And I think I packed just the things…”


*      *      *


Applejack screwed up her eyes and grunted.  Consarn it, she’d been enjoying that blissful post-waking snooze period.  The one were a pony doesn’t yet remember the things troubling them.

Well, there was no way she was going to be able to lie peacefully now.  She forced herself to sit up, despite the strong temptation to snuggle back down and try to forget about it all again.  It was dark.  Either the window-flaps were performing an admirable job of keeping the daylight out, or she’d slept far longer than she’d thought.

She looked over at Dash’s sleeping bag.

For a stabbing split-second, she thought the pegasus had gone.  But then she saw the gentle rise and fall of the bag’s surface.  Dash was there after all; just curled up.

Applejack continued to watch her sleeping friend for a minute or two.  The last thing she wanted to do was wake the disillusioned mare.

Sadness wormed its way through her gut.  And in the next instant, all of her rage from the night before surged back.  This wasn’t right!  Less than a day after meeting these new ponies, and one had already upset at least two of them!  Created a darned hoof-stubbing disagreeable atmosphere for everypony!

As quietly as she could, she pulled the sleeping bag off.  Still swathed in darkness, she rose to her hooves and crept to the tent’s entryway.

She couldn’t wait any longer.  She was gonna find that darn dry-rot of an excuse for a bullying pegasus, and give him a piece of her mind.

She moved the zip along the flap.  Slow, soft clicks.

She poked her muzzle outside.  Orange sky.  Sunset.  She really had slept for hours.

“Oh, morning Applejack!”

Applejack went rigid as soon as she heard the voice behind her.  She rotated and peered back inside the tent.  With her night vision ruined, she struggled to see much.  But a shadowy pony was sitting up on Rainbow Dash’s mattress alright.

“’Cept it isn’t really morning, is it?  Gotta get used to that!”

Applejack squinted.  “R-Rainbow?  How are y’all feelin’?”

“So I’ve been thinking,” the shadow-pony said as she jumped to her hooves and trotted up to Applejack.  Her face came into contact with the light at last, and to Applejack’s astonishment, the pegasus was smiling.

“Huh?  Rainbow, I hope y’all aren’t planning on doin’ anything all rash-like…”

“Oh, nah.  Don’t worry, Applejack.  I know I said some things last night, but now I’ve had some time to think about it, I get it now!”  Dash smiled even wider.  “I know what I need to do!”

“Rainbow, what—?”

“Don’t you see?  He’s upset, Applejack.  Darn it, I would be!  And I, well, I didn’t exactly say the right thing when we first met, did I?”  Dash frowned.  “That one was my fault.  Gotta accept that.”  She shook her head, and resumed her bright smile once more.  “He sounded like a really cool pony when we talked!  I know we’d make an awesome team!  He just needs to notice that I’m cool, too!  He’ll come around, easy as!”

Applejack seemed to consider that for a while.  Her expression was still neutral when she eventually responded.  “That’s… that’s real noble of ya, Rainbow, not ta be holdin’ grudges.  And Ah’d say ya have every right ta hold one.  I’m real proud of ya.”  Her expression darkened.  ”But Ah really think y’all should stay away from that pony.  Ah’m not acceptin’ that there’s any excuse fer treatin’ ya like he did.  Ya don’t take yer problems out on somepony else.  And Ah still think we should tell Midnigh’.”

Dash’s expression fell.  “Aw no, Applejack, don’t do that!  You’ll just annoy him even more!”

“Ah can’t say Ah give half a hay bale how much Ah nudge his beehive,” Applejack replied, eyes narrowed.  “He’s the one who started this.”

“Are you so sure about that?” Dash mumbled.

Applejack hesitated, and then let out a heavy sigh.  “Look, Rainbow, Ah know ya want ta make things right again.  That’s yer decision ta let bygones be bygones.  But Ah can’t stand by while he thinks he can do that to one o’ us.  Y’all at least can take it.  What if he’d done it ta Fluttershy?”

Dash’s mouth came open.  “I… I…”  She withered.  “I’d have bucked all his teeth out.”

“Darn right,” Applejack nodded.  “He still might.”

“But, but, it was me who upset him”, Dash pleaded.  “Just, just give me a chance, okay?  You know if he starts on anypony else I’ll be the first to jump in and stop him.  For the love of Celestia, we’re supposed to be on the same side!  Let me try and fix this!”

Applejack glared at Dash, who in turn was leaning forward, earnest, imploring.  Try as the applebucker might, she couldn’t stop it eroding her determination.

“Al… alright, Rainbow,” Applejack said in a quiet voice.  “Ah don’t agree, but yer the one he’s hurt most right now.  Ah don’t think yer gonna get anywhere, but if y’all’re prepared ta let him… treat ya wrong while ya try ta reach out ta him, Ah respect that’s yer decision.”  She ground an involuntary divot into the grass outside the tent with her hoof.  “But if he starts on anypony else, Ah’m not gonna be held responsible fer what Ah do ta that darn barrel slime in retaliation, ya hear?”

Dash nodded.  “I’ll be right there with you, no sweat.  Thanks, Applejack.  ‘ppreciate it.”  Dash patted her on the shoulder.

Applejack smiled.  “Y’all’re really too darn stubborn fer yer own good sometimes, ya know that, Rainbow?”

“Funny way to say ‘most awesome pony ever’,” Dash retorted with a grin.  “Now to remind everypony else!”

Applejack chuckled.  “Whatever ya say, Sugarcube!  Let’s go find the others.”


*      *      *


The middle of the clearing now played host to several of the Lodestar ponies.  Twilight had exchanged brief waves with her new companions as she moved between the tents, but it was only now that she approached, with her five best friends in tow.  Full Spectrum was first to spot them.

“Good evening, Equestrians.  I trust you slept well?”

Twilight instantly suppressed the urge to yawn.  “Okay.  I think it’ll take a few days for our circadian rhythms to adjust, though.”

Full Spectrum nodded.  Brazen Flame, lacking Twilight’s qualms, completed her own routine of loud yawning and stretching.  “Whatever the hell that means.  Trust me, it’s not gonna get any better than those tents.  Well, ya might get lucky and convince Midnight to let us pay old Double Tap a visit, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

Full Spectrum tilted her head back.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  We still have work to do.  Yes, even you.  You are unable to survive just a few days sleeping rough?”

“Hey, hey,” Brazen replied.  “It’s alright for you in that latex fetish suit.  Some of us are a little more under-dressed, ya know?  I swear, one day is all it takes to get half the grass in Anarchy permanently wedged up my—”

“Charming,” Full Spectrum replied.  “Would it kill you to be professional for five minutes?”

“Now, ye’ll know the answer to that particular conundrum I’d wager, Specs,” smiled Peptide.  “Anything goes for our Brazer, ‘cepting mindless good taste.”

“One lives in hope,” Full Spectrum muttered as Brazen gave Peptide an exaggerated grinning salute.

“Who is this ‘Double Tap’?” asked Rarity.  “I thought the ponies out here weren’t to be trifled with?”

“That is in fact quite apt, Ms Rarity,” said Full Spectrum, switching focus in an instant.  “Double Tap operates the Brass Horseshoe, serving as innkeeper and bartender both.”

“What’s so ‘apt’ about all that?” Applejack asked.

“He enforces a policy of steadfast neutrality,” Peptide replied.  “He’ll serve anypony, and Powers help any troublemakers.  As places in Anarchy go, it’s one of the safest places to relax and unwind.  Providing ye don’t… trifle,” he said, nodding at Rarity.

“But there is little call for us to visit,” Full Spectrum said.  “It cannot be said what effect the Outland power struggle will have on its status as a safe haven.  And our mission is rather more important than Brazer’s need for a comfortable bed to sleep on.”

“Pah.  Remind me again why your parents didn’t call you Party Pooper?” Brazen asked, leaning back onto the grass once more.

Full Spectrum grunted.  Then she muttered, just loud enough for the Equestrians to hear. “Less of a mystery is why yours never considered ‘Quantum of Decorum’.”

Twilight continued to observe the feuding ponies even as silence fell between them.  It was fascinating.  Logic dictated that everypony in their team would have to trust each other completely.  Twilight knew only too well that a group of friends at loggerheads could never hope to come together to face down a common foe.  And yet, insults seemed to be par for the course here.  Was this normal, she wondered, or was it another symptom of the terrible blow they’d all suffered?  She felt a twinge of sadness at the thought that they might lose each other, even after all they’d already lost.  Wasn’t enough, well, enough?

“Uh, so…”

Nine ponies turned their heads.  Sine Wave shrank a little from the sudden onslaught of attention, but swallowed and pressed on.  “Yeah.  Hi, new ponies!  Hi again, I mean.  Was just waiting to say – well, I didn’t want to interrupt anypony!  Midnight’s just off deciding our next move.”  She fidgeted a little in the silence.  “He’ll be back soon!”

Rainbow Dash squinted.  “Why’s he need to go someplace to do that?”

“I can guess as to where he is,” Full Spectrum said.  “If he considers it too difficult to perform himself…”

“We’re gonna go help?” Dash replied with rising excitement.

“Help y’all do what, exactly?” Applejack asked.

“Save lives.”

Midnight cantered out of the blackening forest.  The other Lodestar ponies rose to their hooves.

“Twelve of them, Specs,” he said as he reached the group.

Full Spectrum nodded.  “You will take Skyder?”

“Yes,” Midnight replied.  “Sky Dive, it’s the Royal Terminus.  I trust you remember the protocol?”

The pegasus’ dark blue eyes shifted from gazing deep into the black forest, and focused on Midnight.  “Yes, sir.”

“Good.  Then get this gear all packed up, everypony,” Midnight said as he looked to his team.  “We’re leaving.”

“Wait, where are we going?”  Twilight asked.

“The Royal Terminus, Ms Sparkle,” Midnight replied.  “It’s the train station where you were originally going to meet us.  We’re going to clear it of the criminals there.”

“Isn’t… isn’t that the place that…” Twilight began, feeling sillier with every word she spoke.  Then she caught Fluttershy’s terrified expression.  “Isn’t that the place everypony out here says is ‘haunted’?”

Midnight stared at Twilight, expression unfathomable.  Twilight held his gaze, even as she internally castigated herself for the ridiculous utterance.  The last thing she expected was for Midnight to break into a wide grin, which he shared with his own companions.

“I think it’s time we re-established that reputation.”


*      *      *


“You’re impressed.”

They were standing at the edge of the forest.  Night had well and truly fallen during their brief trot, and the sky was a glorious black canvas speckled with pinpricks of glinting starlight, smeared with the warm hues of far-distant nebulae.  Upon every Equestrian dawned the same realisation – this was their first view of the night sky out here, and with little by way of light pollution, it was truly breathtaking. 

Midnight, however, was focused on the buildings ahead.  A few smaller constructions, lifeless husks all, were closest.  They looked as though they hadn’t been touched in years, much less lived in.  Behind those was what must have been the Royal Terminus itself.

It was huge; easily making a mockery of Ponyville Town Hall in length and breadth, if not height.  The masonry of its construction looked much the same as Sanctuary’s thick border wall, although even the dark of the night could not hide its cracked and weathered appearance.  The roof was an arching network of girder-like protrusions, suspending a black-veined bubble of glass above the building’s interior.  Unlike the cracked windows on the building’s side, a glow of yellowed light emanated from the dome in all directions.

“It has stood the test of time for centuries,” Midnight continued.  “Even once its original purpose diminished.”

“And someponies are holed up there alright,” Applejack said in hushed tones.

“They will be simple enough to remove,” Midnight replied.  Slightly away from the group, Sky Dive was crouching low with closed eyes.  His wings he stretched out to their fullest extent, and back once more.  He repeated the exercises, shifting from one pair of limbs to the next.

“Ya ain’t gonna hurt ‘em, Ah hope,” Applejack said with a determined glare, avoiding looking at the silhouette of the silent pegasus.

“No more than necessary, Ms Applejack,” Midnight said.  “I have already covertly observed them.  I believe that their leader is the main driving force keeping them there.”  Then, a ghost of that earlier smile.  “A sufficient demonstration will keep them away, and word of mouth will once again ensure the safety of this place for weeks to come.”

“Aw, come on, they’ll see for themselves soon enough!” Brazen grinned.  “Let’s get our spook on!”

Midnight nodded, and beckoned the group to follow.  They moved in silence, and Twilight strained to hear any sound of activity emanating from within the depths of the antiquated structure ahead.

She looked around for Fluttershy.  The pegasus may have been keeping pace, but her posture was rigid, and she stared at the ground as she walked.  She noticed Twilight, however, and they locked eyes.  The fear was unmistakable.  To the gentle pony’s credit, she still offered Twilight a weak smile.  Twilight offered her own reassuring version back, and Fluttershy seemed to relax a little.

At least, until the blue-green glow illuminated her face, and her eyes widened as she squeaked in fear, focusing on something ahead of Twilight.  Then she was gone with a burst of speed to rival Rainbow Dash, shivering behind Rarity who, like most everypony else, had stopped dead in her tracks to stare at the source of the unearthly glow.

Twilight turned.

It was one of the dilapidated shacks.  A relic of crumbling stonework.  On top, a roof of jagged holes, revealing only the silhouettes of jagged crossbeams, broken and angled skywards over a pitch-black interior.   Ivy snaked its way up the moss-coated stone, and rusty nails held mouldy planks against windows long ago smashed.  All told, it was indistinguishable from the other ruined hovels the ponies had passed on their travels tonight – save one aspect.  Daubed on the wall facing the ponies, in a messy, dripping font, was a message scrawled in a sickly, luminous turquoise:

Souls that venture forth take heed
If thou art foul in thought or deed
The restless shades that dwell within
Have mercy not for those that sin 

The silence that followed was a smothering blanket.  Twilight finished her read-through of the dark edict, and made no sound as she re-read, waiting for the others to finish.  But now her heart beat with a renewed sense of urgency, and the thuds were deafening in her ears.

“A taboo,” Rarity whispered as she patted Fluttershy on the mane.  “Oh, but this is clearly the source of the haunting rumours.”

“Sorta!”  Sine Wave nodded.  “For most ponies—”

“Poncy-arsed words and vague threats of evil spirits do the job, yeah,” Brazen Flame said.  She shook her head.  “Some overpaid pony in External Affairs did well for herself,” she muttered.

“You saying this isn’t real?” Rainbow Dash asked, moving closer to scrutinise the text.

Brazen Flame chuckled.  “How ya defining ‘real’?  Sure as hell no ghosts in there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of the looming building ahead.  “This thing’s just been zapped by some horn-head to light up with that bullshit and make the dumber Anarchists piss themselves.  Colour was a bitch to mimic, too.”

“Huh?”

Brazen stuck out her tongue at Dash, squashing it between grinning teeth.  “Patience, patience!  You’ll see.”

“And on that matter – if you would, Brazer, Peptide,” Midnight said.

“Yah,” Brazen replied as she stuck her nose into a saddlebag.  She brought out a flask of dark liquid.  Midnight took it in his mouth and dropped it into a saddlebag of his own.  Then he repeated the motion with the bottle offered this time by Peptide, although the cloth wrapped around it obscured any liquid it contained.

“Don’t get ‘em mixed up,” Brazen warned.  Then she grinned.  “Although now I kinda wanna see that.”

“Noo Brazey, mixing drinks is baad!” chimed Pinkie, flapping her head from side to side and drawing a hoof across her throat.

Brazen cocked an eye at the pony behind her.  “Brazen.  Ya ain’t wrong, though.  It goes double when ya don’t wanna be drinking either of the two things in the first place.” 

“Take the Equestrians to the rooftop, please,” said Midnight.  “Specs will signal that it’s safe.”

The hawk-eyed pegasus had resumed her position in the skies above, although the night robbed the ponies of much hope of glimpsing her.

“You’ll be able to watch from there without fear of retaliation,” Midnight said to Twilight.  “Don’t do anything to attract attention, and you’ll be fine.  Skyder and I will meet up with you when we’re done.”  He trotted part of the way towards Sky Dive, then turned and bowed his head.  “Until then, be safe.”

“Wait, wait!”  Rainbow Dash flew out and planted herself down in front of Midnight.  “If you’re gonna take on these ponies, lemme help!”  She attempted a winning smile at Sky Dive, standing as he was behind his leader, body already angled in the opposite direction.

The pegasus, for his part, scoffed.  “No.”

“Aw, come ooon,” Dash pleaded, eyes now moving to meet Midnight’s.  “I’m strong, I’m fast, they won’t know what hit ‘em!”

In a single, sharp motion, Sky Dive drew back a forehoof.  After a pause, he snorted again.  “Fucked if I’m disobeying an order for her.  You know where to find me when you’ve gotten rid of her, Midnight.”  With a few flaps of his wings, he was off out of sight.

Midnight scrutinised Dash for a little while before responding.  “We appreciate the offer of assistance, Ms Dash, but for this particular operation, we need practised hooves.”  He raised a hoof as Dash opened her mouth.  “Not just well-versed in combat, but also the particular,” he smirked, “spectacle, that we choreograph.  I am sure we will make use of your skills some other time, but for now, please appreciate that not every pony is ideal for every task.  It would be inappropriate for me to take even other members of my own team for this.”

“Aw, love ya too, Midnight!” grinned Brazen.  “Miss ya already!”

“Case in point,” Midnight said without missing a beat.  “I suggest, Ms Dash, that you observe well.  You may not be ready to help us now, but maybe with a little experience…” he smiled.  “Keep your friends safe for me.”

“I’m keeping them safe whatever,” Dash replied at last.  “Alright… alright,” she said, trotting back to the group once more, making sure not to meet eyes with Applejack.

“First hoofstep on the path to greatness is recognising your own limitations,” Midnight said.  “I assure you, this will be very instructive for you.  Stay safe.”  With that, he turned and slipped into the darkness.

“The ladder is just around the corner,” Peptide said, heading towards the towering wall of the train station.  Sine Wave, Brazen Flame and the Equestrians fell in step behind.

Grass crisped underhoof as the ponies once more trotted along.  Twilight grimaced.  Midnight and his companions had kept a relentless pace, even burdened as some of them were.  Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Pinkie had had little trouble keeping up, but Twilight and the rest were beginning to feel the strain.  She’d had a more leisurely time setting her own pace in the running of the leaves, of all things.

On the up side, she felt far safer tonight.  It was nice to have some certainty once more, and Midnight had glowed with it.  And it was incredibly reassuring to know Full Spectrum was above, able to sight any threats long before they could hope to ambush her.

So why was she so uneasy?

“C-could… somepony... explain why… we’re doing this, again, please?”

Peptide was nearby, and caught the question.  “What’s that, lassie?  Ye want to know the reasoning behind our little detour?” he asked, slowing his pace to let Twilight catch up.

“Y-yeah,” Twilight breathed.  “Midnight said it was important to, to keep ponies away.”

“That is correct, Twilight.  Why, you were planning to meet us in there, were ye not?”

“Well, yeah, but we’re here, now…”

“Ah,” Peptide nodded.  “Well, the Royal Terminus has for years been used for cross-border meetings.  Especially for,” he glanced at Twilight, “politically-difficult ponies to bring to Lodestar itself.  We have carefully cultivated a reputation for it as a place abhorrent to ne’er-do-wells, to ensure it remains free of criminal occupation.”

“But Midnight said it was ‘compromised’,” Twilight countered.

“Aye, that it is.  Ye know there’s been a recent… shift in the Outlands, Twilight,” Peptide uttered.  “Someponies are getting bolder.  Ignoring sound advice.”

“Sorry,” Twilight said for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

Peptide waved a dismissive hoof.  “The point is: you are not the only ponies that may be heading here in the hope of a safe stopping point.  We can assume a great number of weary travellers seeking to cross the border will try to rest there, ahead of attempting to enter Sanctuary.”

Twilight’s hairs stood on end.  “And right now…”

“…they’ll trot right into the hooves of the unsavoury types currently stationed here, yes, Twilight,” Peptide replied with a grim nod.

Twilight’s hide prickled, and she instinctively looked around.  It was all she could do to stop herself from shrieking when she locked eyes with the soulless pair of goggles.

“Rooftop is clear,” Full Spectrum said as she hovered above the ground.  “All HPs are accounted for inside.”

“Thank ye, Specs,” Peptide replied.

Twilight was clutching her chest as though afraid something would fall out.  “Did, did you have to do that?” she wavered.  “You can talk directly to Sine Wave!”

The pegasus’ head swivelled.  “That is correct, Ms Sparkle,” she responded.  “But a two-way conversation is only possible if Ms Wave lights her horn, and she is not ensconced in cover.  In addition,” she paused to scan the buildings and treeline behind her, “the spell is an exhausting one for her to maintain.  Unnecessary casting is an inefficient drain on her efforts, not to mention discourteous.”

Twilight swallowed as her breathing returned to normal.  “I suppose,” she muttered, thinking of her own spell-casting efforts earlier in the week.  Before all this started.  A lifetime ago.

“I will rejoin you at the top.  Until then, I will keep vigil.  Sine Wave will tell you if I see any ponies approaching.”  With that, Full Spectrum pushed off away from the ground with her hooves, sweeping up and out of sight.

“Okay, that sounds—” Twilight began as she turned back to the pegasus, to find only Peptide standing across from her, replete with a bemused expression.  “…good to me?” she asked the air separating them.  “She really isn’t one for hellos or goodbyes, is she?”

Peptide chuckled.  “Aye, no.”

Twilight twitched.

Peptide led the group around the corner of the looming edifice, with Brazen Flame bringing up the rear.  He halted the group at a seemingly random point along the wall, but the reason quickly became apparent when he reached out to the night-blackened wall and began to climb.  A ladder of wrought iron, easily missed in the darkness, was rooted into the building’s towering wall, running parallel all the way up to the rooftop.

“If ye’ll all just follow me,” Peptide said, hanging one-hoofed from the ladder with surprisingly little difficulty given the cargo on his back, “we’ll get all settled in time for Midnight and Skyder to begin.”

“No need t’be shy!” Brazen called as she stood by the ladder, hoof swept out in its direction.  “Peptide’ll stick his neck out first, and I’ll stay at the back and drop presents for anypony who tries t’follow!”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but this looks terribly unsafe,” Rarity said as she eyed the rust-runged metal.

“Ya know I’ll catch ya, no sweat,” Rainbow Dash said, taking to the air to become level with Peptide.

“A commendable plan,” Peptide nodded.  “But if all else fails, well, we let Brazer think she goes last to respond to attacks.  Truth of the matter is – she’s soft.  Aim for her.”

“Har de har,” Brazen said.  “Well, I only go last ‘cuz the view of you that way’s so much better than your face.”

“Come oon, we’ll miss the show!  It’s a show, right?” Pinkie said, dangling upside-down above Peptide, her hind legs wrapped around the ladder.

Peptide stared up at her.  Scanned the bare wall all around.  Then his eyes slid to her cutie mark, its display of floating party balloons.  “Alreet, then,” he said at last.  “Just make sure you wait for me before going over the top, lass.”

“Can do!” Pinkie beamed back, before shooting upwards into the darkness.

“Aw, hell’s bells,” Peptide muttered.  Dash held up a quick hoof before flying up in pursuit.  The green stallion turned down towards the others.  “Come on, everypony.  Climb.”

Applejack was hot on Peptide’s hooves, and Twilight gestured for Sine Wave to follow.  She wanted to be one of the last to ascend, to arrest the motion of anypony above her that happened to fall, but a look from Rarity made it clear Fluttershy was going to require a little more time.  And she really didn’t want to lose sight of the others.

So up she went, trusting that the strangely jaunty earth pony mare with the ring of fire for a cutie mark would keep her friends safe on the ground.

Twilight had already promised herself she wouldn’t look down, and it only took one upward look, with the looming masonry towering above, threatening to crush her, to discourage her from looking anywhere but the rungs of the ladder.  So after a minute’s methodical climbing, she was suddenly surprised to bump her head into a pair of hind legs.

“Oh!”  Sine Wave squeaked above her.  “Sorry, Ms Sparkle!  Kinda stuck!”

Twilight braced herself, and looked up.

“I said,” Peptide was muttering to the pony above him, “ye’re gonna have to go first, but make it something of a leisurely pace, okie?”

“Huh?” Pinkie responded.

“Oh for,” Rainbow Dash blurted, “he said—mmph!”

“Shh, quiet, Dashie!” Pinkie hissed in a much louder whisper.  She had the pegasus grabbed by the head, foreleg clamped around muzzle, and was somehow still maintaining her balance on the ladder.  Dash’s eyes bulged.  “That’s not how you play hide and seek!” 

Rainbow Dash’s response was muffled, but the tone hinted plenty at its content.  She rolled her eyes and took firm hold of Pinkie.  Then, with a few solid beats of her wings, she carried them both up and over the edge to the rooftop.

Peptide made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, and clambered on up after them.

It wasn’t long before Twilight herself reached the top, and with a helping hoof from Peptide, finally found herself pulled up onto mercifully flat ground once more.  After a moment or two spent collecting herself, she looked up from the stone.

Here, the ponies were soothed in the light that flowed onto the rooftop from the hemispherical structure ahead of them.  The glass looked no younger than the rest of the discoloured building and yet, algal growths were not in evidence as Twilight might have expected for an old, unmaintained structure.  She tried to imagine teams of ponies stealthing their way atop the roof to wash the glass clean.  Then she reconsidered.  A spell seemed far more likely.  She imagined that, with all the time in the world to experiment, she would soon find a host of implanted magic all in and around this place, serving to maintain its structural integrity and serviceability as a haven for anypony that found it, even as its aesthetics decayed with the passage of time.

There was something else bugging her about it, but she didn’t have much time to consider the matter before her thoughts were pierced by a squeak and a wail.  All heads snapped round as Fluttershy surged over the edge of the ladder and pancaked to the floor.  “We’re under attack!”

The other Equestrians gasped, and Dash was already in full gallop.  She threw herself off the edge of the building and plunged down out of sight.

“Who?”  Twilight breathed.  Then she twitched.  “Or what?”

“D-d-don’t know, just, had to run up here quick,” Fluttershy panted.

“Ah’ll buck ‘em back down ta ground level if Ah have to,” Applejack grunted, stepping between the ladder and the pegasus.  She looked over her shoulder.  “They ain’t hurtin’ ya, Fluttershy.”

“Never mind,” came Dash’s voice from below.  She sailed back over the edge of the roof and planted herself down with a disgruntled look.  “False alarm.”

“W-what?” Fluttershy squeaked.  “N-no, she said—”

“A load of rotten old lies,” Rarity said as she too scaled the wall onto the rooftop, looking extremely displeased.  “Our earth pony friend has a twisted idea regarding what constitutes humour.”

“Oh,” Twilight said.  Her relief didn’t really suppress the twinge of annoyance.

And she wasn’t the only one.  Even as Rarity moved to comfort Fluttershy, frozen and shrunken in as she was, Applejack marched to the roof’s edge.

“That ain’t funny.  Ah’m gonna give her what-for.”

“The heck you are,” Rainbow Dash said, trotting up alongside her.  “Nopony messes with my friends!  Leave her to me!”

“Ah said Ah’m gonna give her what-for, gosh darn it!” Applejack grunted back with a push.  “Worry about yer own darn pony.”

“Fluttershy’s my friend too!” Dash said, pushing back just as much.  “I’m not gonna just stand there—!”

“Well neither am Ah!”

“You can have her when I’m d—”

“Brazey!” Pinkie yelled as the mare’s head popped above the laddertop.  Before Applejack and Rainbow Dash could even think about disentangling themselves, Pinkie flew across the rooftop with superpony speed, grabbed Brazen by her upper body, and dumped her down in the midst of everypony.  “You scared her!” she shot at the mare as she pointed a hoof at Fluttershy.

Brazen blinked and looked up from the floor.  “Well, yeah!  She was taking forever, ya know?  S’not safe to linger.”  She hesitated as Pinkie expression was unmoved.  “Really, I could easily’ve been spotting attacking ponies for real if we’d stuck around too much.  Come ooon… it was a little funny,” she said, allowing herself a slight grin.

It didn’t last.

“Not Fluttershy, okay?” Pinkie said with iron, eyes locked on Brazen’s.  “Only harmless pranks are fun.  Harm.  Less!  Gottit?”

Brazen’s eyes had already lost their shine.  She sighed.  “Alright, alright.  Sorry, Flutters.  Won’t do it again.”

Fluttershy gave a faint nod, still wrapped in the forelegs of a surprised-looking Rarity.  Pinkie’s lip trembled, and then she grabbed Brazen to her hooves in a hug.  “Aw, thank you for doing the right thing!”

Peptide chuckled as Brazen windmilled her forehooves.  “I think Brazer’s finally met her match.”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash flicked their eyes to each other.

“So, er, are you gonna…“

“Uh, Ah’m not sure Ah really need ta no more…”

“Yeah, yeah I thought so too.  I guess.”

The mares’ hooves drooped off each other.  Rainbow Dash scratched a spot at the back of her neck and trotted away.  Applejack stole a glance at Pinkie.  She couldn’t help but shudder at the resurfacing memories.  Scariest mare of us all.

Twilight finally managed to tear her eyes back to the bright dome ahead.

“You don’t want to be leanin’ on the glass, but feel free to have a look,” Peptide said.

Fluttershy shrank even further into Rarity, but Dash trotted up without hesitation.  “Whoa.  Cool.”

Twilight stepped up herself, then staggered back as a wave of vertigo overcame her.  Celestia!  She hadn’t realised they’d climbed so high!  It was too dark to see anywhere else, but from here, she’d have a good three or four seconds to regret her life choices if she fell through the glass.  She collected herself once more, and edged rather more gingerly towards the light.

And in that moment, she realised what else had been bugging her.  The glow of the dome was literally the glow of the dome.  No light sources hung from the ceiling inside – none that were active, at any rate.  The dome was a beacon, glowing with implanted magic, magic that served little to benefit any ponies below.  Twilight squinted, and decided the only reason she could see anything at all down there was the soft glow from a box car in the middle, hinting at a dying camp fire.

Not that there was much to see.  The raised concrete waiting platform running along one edge of the wall, littered with rubble, served as the intended entryway for ponies.  Most of the remaining space was given over to haphazard rows of flaking, rusted old train engines and the carriages behind them.  As the endpoint in what passed for the Outland rail network, the structure was station and storage shed both.  Designed to house many more locomotives than could possibly serve one platform, it had a myriad of crisscrossing switching tracks to facilitate swapping trains on and off the mainline.  But they were twisted far beyond original specifications, and everywhere, piles of broken stones, cracked concrete, rust, corrosion.  It was less an old trainyard, Twilight thought, than a scrapyard. 

She frowned and turned away.  She realised Peptide was watching her.

“I, er, it’s very…” Twilight stammered.

“Like a horde of pegasi set off a tornado?  Aye.”

“Well,” Rarity began, “I’m sure it was a true delight to behold in its heyday!  A little spring clean is doubtless all it needs.”

“A-Actually,” Sine Wave piped up, “it’s meant to look like that.”

“For diplomatic meetings?” Rarity gaped.

“Well, yeah!  Yes!  Don’t want to encourage bad ponies to stay, do we?  And it helps with the ghosts thing if it looks all ruined and stuff.  Looks more, more ghost-y that way, you know?  Ask Midnight if you want!  He knows all about the deception stuff.”  Sine Wave rattled off into silence.

“Where is he, anyway?” Rainbow Dash asked.  “I can’t see anypony down there.”

“Ye’ll see them moving into position any second now,” Peptide stated, looking down.  “Targets usually set themselves up inside one of the carriages.  With a lookout or two.”

“So we won’t be able see anything?” Rainbow Dash asked, voice laced with disappointment.

“Oh, ye’ll see some.  Midnight’ll want to draw them out into the open.”

“I guess,” Dash muttered, glancing half-heartedly down to the station below.  “Just, don’t wanna miss anything.”  She felt into silence, scanning the debris from afar.  Her focus was absolute, until a tap on her shoulder turned her head.

“Here,” Specs said.  Her eyes were solemn, intense and very green.  Twilight wondered why she was so drawn to them, before realising she wasn’t used to seeing the mare with her googles off.  They dangled from a hoof, held out in front of Dash.

“Wh… huh?  Really?” Dash gaped at the enchanted eyewear.

“Yes.  I no longer require them.  The rooftop is clear.  We control the ladder access.”

“What about pegasi?” Dash asked as she took the goggles.

Those emerald eyes never wavered.  “In a word, Midnight.  His spellwork is capable of protecting us from detection within a limited area.  Pegasi will not be able sight us from afar.  Rest assured, if we do not want to be found, Midnight can ensure it is so.”

“Awesome,” Dash grinned.  She wrestled the goggles down over her eyes, letting the elastic spring into place with a snap.  “Awesome!  Thanks a bunch!”  She gazed around like Equestria’s toothiest swimmer.  “Whoa,” she said, sighting down at a foreleg.  “News just in – I’m hot!”

Full Spectrum took full advantage of her exposed eyes to roll them in exquisite fashion.

“Aw, I’m just kidding,” the beaming, insect-eyed mare continued.  “That’s not news!”

“This mission is hardly the time to be considering—”

“Now now, they’re our ‘honoured guests’, remember?” Brazen chuckled from behind as Specs began her retort.  The mare’s zest was back in force as she grinned at her scowling colleague.  “C’mon, Pinks,” she gestured towards the glass ahead, “Goggleface ain’t the only pony who can share!”

“Sharing is caring!” Pinkie beamed as she hopped into position at the edge of the glass.  “Now we’re pairing for staring!  I’m raring!”

“Staring at scaring, yeah,” Brazen smirked as she sat down alongside. (“Ooh, good one!”)

“There’s Midnight,” Full Spectrum said, pointing at a length of carriages running alongside the wall.  Now that it had been indicated to her, Twilight could see the glowing mote that must have been the unicorn’s horn, quietly streaking its way along in the shadows.

“And Sky Dive too!” Dash said, pointing halfway up the wall on the far side, totally shrouded in blackness.  “’Least I think it is.”  Her head moved, tracing an invisible path across the yawning concourse to another area of shroud, partially enveloping yet another train like some encroaching, carriage-consuming black fog.  “Whoever it is, he’s on that train now.  Crouching low.”

“Skyder,” Full Spectrum confirmed.

“Both in position, now”, Peptide stated as Midnight reached the last carriage and paused just inside of its edge.  Beyond lay dull light, and utter exposure to the line of sight of the ponies camping the box car in the centre of the room.

“It’s party time,” Brazen grinned down at the unsuspecting cabal below.


*      *      *


“Fucking hate this place.”

Bolt Cutter sat in the doorway of the box car.  He was leaning against the sliding door-panel, long-since rusted shut in a half-open position.  The side of his head was scraped in a coating of ruddy iron, worsened with every shift in position, ever-futile in his attempts to get comfortable.  A little way into the car, a smouldering ash pile, a remnant of the campfire before it, glowed with residual warmth.  Bolt Cutter played idly with the flick-knife strapped to his forehoof as he gazed out across the flaking tracks, rubble, dirt and darkness.  His expression was a poor waxwork of bored and tired.

“Shit, really?” came a response from behind.  “Why didn’t you say so eighteen fucking times before?”

“Ah, fuck you,” Bolt Cutter grunted as the voice snickered.  “The fuck did I do to wind up relying on you to watch my back.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Colt Butter.”

“Whatever.  Shut it, Slingshot.  Do your jo—ah!”

The clang-clanging of metal falling to stone floor struck the two ponies’ ears.  Bolt Cutter jerked upright.  He stared.  Heard his pulse thudding in his ears.  There was nothing.  Same rubble, same rusting tracks, same carriage over near the far wall.

“You heard that, right?”

“Yeah.”

Bolt Cutter extended the blade on his weapon, and turned his head to the side with the delicacy of an opening flower.  “G-Guess we’d better go check it out,” he whispered.

“With everypony else asleep?  Fuck that,” Slingshot muttered back.  He turned, and kicked into the box car’s interior.  There was a groan.  “Wake up,” Slingshot hissed.  “We gotta check something out.  If we yell, wake the boss.”

A string of mumbled curses culminating in terse acknowledgement completed the exchange.

Slingshot grunted, and clambered over to the other side of the box car to slide down next to Bolt Cutter.  “Fucking typical, something actually happens on a watch and I get landed without a fucking unicorn.”

“You know, I was thinking the exact same thing,” Bolt Cutter replied as he fumbled inside the bag alongside him.  He pulled out a wooden stave, and thrust it into the dying embers of the fire behind.  It came to light with a sound like a whipped blanket, the sticky compound in the far end burning with intensity.

“Cuum urn,” Bolt Cutter said, hopping down onto the cracked floor, torch held between his teeth.  “Lesh geh’ ‘ish o-uh w’th.”

“Yeah,” Slingshot mumbled, slipping down in turn.  He squinted over at the far wall.  “See anything?”

“Uh-uh.”

Slingshot remained in place, rocking on his hooves a little.  After a few seconds had passed, he opened his mouth with a smack.  “Still I can see one advantage to having to bring the torch along know what I’m saying?” he grinned at Box Cutter.

“Urr, fugh ‘oo,” grunted his companion.

“Come on come on,” Slingshot blurted as he strode with sudden energy towards the shadowed carriage.  Box Cutter scrambled to keep pace, eyes flicking down to the knife still attached to his hoof.

“Don’t fucking forget,” Slingshot muttered as they reached the car’s edge, a corner-turn away from the dark unknown, “Unicorns’re dangerous with their damn horns.  Stab first, ask questions later.”

Bolt cutter nodded, and tested the locking of his knife’s blade with a hoof.  Slingshot fumbled around inside a saddlebag before pulling out a sling between his teeth.

“On t’ree, right?” Slingshot mumbled, nodding his head towards the corner.  “One, t—”

A tingling trill and turquoise light.

Slingshot backed up and slipped, dropping his sling.  He gazed up in horror at the wall.  “Shit!”

Slingshot ran, and Bolt Cutter was hot on his hooves.  Behind them, in a pony-sized font, the turquoise scrawl cast a sickening glow along the wall with its ethereal light.

You were warned.

Galloping, hyperventilating, the two watchponies streaked back to their wretched box car.

“Wake up!  Wake up!” Box Cutter whimpered at the ponies lying scatted inside, swathed in blissful unconscious ignorance.  His voice was quiet and strained as two conflicting needs struggled to assert dominance.  No reaction was forthcoming, and the sleeping ponies soon found themselves on the receiving end of rather more direct activity encouragement.  “Wake the fuck up I said; we have to go!” Box Cutter hissed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of hooves striking flesh.

The pony suddenly kicked out, and Box Cutter tumbled down, a hoof lashing out to glance aside his face as he went.  He fought back, his own attempts equally clumsy, and more ponies stirred, confused, disorientated, a stray blow glancing off one of them eliciting another vicious retaliatory strike, and the box car was soon a mass of panicking ponies, drugged with sleep and fighting the unknown assailants and grunting with every impact and scrabbling around for their weapons and kicking over the embers of the fire, flinging orange sparks into the smoky air—

“Fucking stop!”

Light, blinding light, stabbed into the boxcar.  The ponies froze in place still wrapped around each other, and in more than one case, jaw still clamped around limb.  The unicorn standing in their midst was heaving growling breaths, and her stare was liquid fire.   Her horn was a dazzling white, casting stark shadows behind everypony around her.

“Pray I never find out who sat on my fucking head,” she said, with all the warmth of a lioness poised over a helpless foal’s neck.  Somewhere, unseen to all, a pony ceased rubbing his behind and snapped his foreleg to a standing position.  “What the fuck is going on?” she breathed.

“It’s, well we,” Box Cutter began, before his voice died in his throat and he looked to Slingshot.  The explanation he’d been about to give didn’t seem close to exceptionally good enough.

“Well, Ma’am,” Slingshot began, performing an admirable job of not looking the mare in the eyes whilst appearing to do so, “we thought, uh, that the g—, the, uhm, well, the ghosts, were, uh, here.  Ma’am.”

If the assembled ponies thought the mare couldn’t look any angrier, they were wrong.  “You fucking idiots.  Jumping at shadows, is that it?” the mare hissed.

“N-no!  Ma’am!  There was, like suddenly, Ma’am, it just appeared – more of that wr-writing.”

The mare stomped her forehooves down, narrowly missing the head of a pony with his forelegs wrapped around the hindlegs of another.  “What did I tell you about that?  Do I need to explain myself five fucking times before you idiots’ll listen?  It’s a fucking spell.  Like the one outside.  They all are.  Light up when you get near, is all.  I’m a fucking unicorn, or hadn’t you noticed, you idiots?”  Her horn shifted gears, and now light shone forth from both Slingshot and Box Cutter’s heads as they were dragged forward, futile in their attempts to plant their hooves.  Then, with a flick of the mare’s horn, the two ponies’ heads clonked together and they crumpled to the ground.

“The fuck were you wandering around for, anyway?” the mare asked, bearing down on the two dazed individuals.  “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping watch?  Or did you realise you can’t pay attention for shit?”

As Box Cutter rubbed his head, he tried hard to remember through the fog.  They wouldn’t have set the writing spell off if they hadn’t gone near it, why were they—“

“A noise!” Box Cutter gasped.  “We heard a noise, Ma’am!  Like, a clanging noise!”

The mare continued to stare at the prostrate ponies with a searing look that had nothing to do with the light from her horn.  “A metal clang?  In a rusted, crumbling, dirty.  Old.  Shithole?”

Box Cutter and Slingshot shrivelled.  Somewhere, a pony snickered.

The mare strode over the ash of the fire, and stood in the opening.  She whipped her head this way and that, and fixed on the side through which the otherworldy letters still glowed out into the shades.  “All of you, follow me.  Now.”

Slingshot swallowed.  “Razzle, Ma’am, ya don’t need—”

“Now,” the mare spat, bathing a charcoaled log in telekinetic magic and applying the hot end to the pony’s flank.  Slingshot yelped and scrambled out of the car, falling face first onto the concrete.  Box Cutter stumbled over him.

Razzle hopped down with barely a sound, and trotted straight past the pair.  She led her cabal right up to the base of the writing with long strides, and then turned.  “Just like the writing outside, you see?” she said, burning her horn even brighter.  The turquoise glow withered in the intense white light, until the writing itself was barely visible, lost in the dazzle.  “Ponies like us avoided this place for years, because of some stupid old proximity spell.”  She glared at Box Cutter and Slingshot, who were suddenly very interested in their forehooves below them.

“Now,” Razzle continued, “we know the truth.  There’s nothing here.  ‘cept us, now,” she said, and for the first time the hint of a smirk began to worm its way onto her features.  “And ponies’ll come here, thinking they’re safe.  They’ll bring anything they don’t want taked.  They’re fucking wrong.”  She smiled a satisfied smile as she took a step forward, no longer backed up against the wall.  “Hear noises, girls?  I say, fucking good!”  Her horn glowed brighter.  “Means somepony’s here, and that somepony’s got presents for us all.  She just don’t know it yet!” she finished with a flourish.  The other ponies burst into a chattering mass of excited whispers, and Razzle smirked once more at how easily she’d nailed this leadership thing, with even those idiot lookouts seeming convinced, and—

A cacophony of clanging from the direction of their boxcar, an obscene noise, repeated notes that sped up, faster and faster and faster and louder and too loud, and Luna make it stop, and silence, and darkness.

CLANG.

Nopony breathed.  A faint breeze passed over them as the mass of ponies stared at the boxcar.  The air was molasses.  Not a breath of movement.

Until the first poor soul turned his head to Razzle, seeking direction, only to find himself crying out instead.

Razzle was gone, and the sudden darkness was now all too explicable.  With no time to adjust to the smothering blackness, the ponies were as good as blinded.  But two things stood in plain sight.

The turquoise splatter on the wall, in a shape that bore an uncanny resemblance to a unicorn pony, limbs splayed.

And the addendum to the previous message, in perfect mimic of that terrible hue.

SINNERS PAY IN FLESH.

“No, no!” a pony wailed, practically sobbed, as she bolted away from the obscene promise.   A gallop of hooves followed her, owners caught up in their own version of hyperventilating hysterics.  Nopony looked back.  Nopony saw the pony that was slowest on his hooves fail to progress more than a single hoofstep.

CLANG.

The mare galloped with all her might.  Not knowing what to do or how to get there, her rational mind buried deep under the primeval screeches of flight, she charged for the shelter of the box car.

Then staggered, shrieked and dived aside as the interior pulsed turquoise, and spectral flame arced out.  The ponies behind her had more time to react, and divided either side of the blue-green tongue that hissed between them and slapped to the ground, throwing up a wall of ghostly flame.

The ponies scattered in all directions.

The mare cried out in fear as she was left behind.  She stumbled, tried to rise to hooves spasming in terror as her coat danced with sickening blue emerald light.  She caught the merest glimpse of the shadow descending towards her.  She opened her mouth to scream, but it was upon her, and her mouth was covered, her body engulfed, and she kicked and wailed in muffled terror as her hooves left the ground, and she sailed up, up, and crunched down face-first on top of the train carriage, and she was winded and had no breath to give the slightest voice to her utter horror, and after a pause, a fraction of a second that lasted an eternity, she feared no more as Sky Dive’s hoof came slamming down onto the back of her head, smashing her into the metal and out cold.

CLANG.


*      *      *


“Aaand three!” Brazen Flame chuckled.  “Mind you, she looked ready to pass out all by herself.”

Rarity was gazing down at the spectacle with a grimace of disdain.  “Must you take such joy from this?  I for one find it rather cruel to terrify innocent ponies in such a manner.”

Brazen cocked an eye at the mare.  “Innocent my arse.  ‘f you’d gambolled in there without us stopping ya, you’d’ve seen just how ‘innocent’ they really are,” she said, pretending to throw punches at Pinkie, whose eyes followed the mare’s hooves as though attached by wire.  “We ain’t doing any permanent damage.  More than you could hope for if they ever got ahold of ya,” she warned.  “Hell, even that fire won’t hurt ‘em.”

“Beg pardon?” said Applejack.

Brazen grinned a little.  “Maybe ya didn’t see my little party trick last night.  Mix of the right chemicals, ya get fire that sits on top of a film of stuff that doesn’t burn, and lasts long enough to protect anything covered in it before the fuel runs out,” she said, holding up her unscarred forehooves for inspection.  “Shame these gals were quick off the mark, none of ‘em got splashed,” she said, looking back down as another writhing pony was carried up into darkness and out of sight.  Rainbow Dash winced just a little a moment later.  “’S fucking hilarious when they realise one of the others‘s on fire.”

Rarity snapped open her mouth at that, but paused.  “You have the ability to concoct a recipe for fire that does no harm to ponies?”

Brazen nodded.  “No need to sound so surprised!  Mare of several talents!  Several burny, explodey talents!  Doesn’t mean it’s all about killing, neither!  Oof!  Didya see that one?  He’ll be feeling that tomorrow!”

Rarity pursed her lips.

“Aw, come on, siddown and watch the show!”  Brazen rattled a tub at the unicorn.  “Popcorn?”

“Popcorn?!”

“Still an earth pony, missy!” Brazen grinned.  “Are ya really surprised?”

Rarity eyed the burst corn kernels.  “I suppose not.  But I must decline, thank you.”

“Ah well.  More for us, eh, Pinks?” Brazen said, offering the snack to her giggling companion.

“You guys seeing this?” Dash gaped down into the darkness below.  “It’s a, it’s, a massacre!”

“Ah just hope y’all are right about them being less than agreeable-like,” Applejack added.  Unlike Rarity, her expression was unreadable.

“We are, Ms Applejack”, Full Spectrum replied.  “Intelligence is always gathered prior to any strike.  Once our work here is complete, we can provide proof, should you desire to see it.”

“Ah’d appreciate it,” Applejack said as Twilight nodded.  “Not that Ah don’t trust ya or nothin’.  Ah do.  Jus’ be good ta know what breed a’ vine weevils we’re dealin’ with in this here field.”

Full Spectrum nodded once.

“Almost finished,” Dash said in monotone.  Twilight looked at the eyeless mare, wishing her mind wasn’t painting such a detailed picture of the scatter of unconscious bodies the pegasus must be seeing.

“Place your bets gals,” Brazen grinned.  “Who’s gonna be last to go?  My money’s on—uh, not her.  What about him, Pinks?  Yeah?  Well I’m rooting for the other one.  You’re going down!”


*      *      *


CLANG.

“Fuckohfuckohfuckingfuck!”

Bolt Cutter sped between the two rusting trains, looming black monoliths on either side of him.  There was no comfort in the cover, only the claustrophobia of its funnelling.  Whether through screaming heightened awareness, or mere passage of agonising time, his vision had adjusted sufficiently to allow him to gallop in the dark over piles of stones and rusted track.

It wasn’t enough, and he knew it.  The others had gone, and he was next.

He whimpered.  If he could just get out of here, make it to the exit and run without ever looking back, maybe the horrors wouldn’t follow.

He looked up ahead.  Too late, a shape appeared between the corroded engines at the head of the carriages.  Bolt Cutter gasped, stumbled, kicked up spray of stones and barrelled into the figure, knocking both it and himself to the floor.

“Fuck, no, wait, stop!”

“Fucking—Slingshot, that you?”

“Oh, oh, oh!  Bolt Cutter, it’s you!”  The stallion leapt back to his hooves.  “Getting the fuck out of here, yes?”

“Fuck yes,” Bolt Cutter panted.

“Come on!” Slingshot said, galloping around one of the trains and into darkness once more.  Box Cutter followed, trying not to think about the number of trains they still needed to wind between before reaching the platform, the exit, and sweet safety.  His legs burned with the effort of his full-throttle gallop, but Slingshot was managing no less screaming a pace, and Bolt Cutter had no intention of moving at anything other than flat-out until the Royal Terminus was far behind him.

“Shit!” Slingshot exclaimed as the far end of their train-flanked corridor ignited in that grotesquely familiar blue-green flame.

Bolt Cutter skidded to a halt, and stared in an out-of-body stupor.  They were dead.

“We’re sorry, alright!” Slingshot squeaked in desperation into the black air as he looked around fruitlessly.  “An’ we’re l-leavin’!  J-just let us go, an’ we’ll—this way!”  Slingshot charged forward a few hoofsteps, and threw his weight against a partially-open boxcar door.  It shrieked in rusting protest, but opened wide enough to admit a pony.  Box Cutter ran forward as Slingshot slipped inside, and clambered through the opening after him.

“Just gotta open this one, and we’ll be out the other side.  C’mon, help!”

“I’m trying!”

Once again, the door moved with extreme reluctance.  Even as the pair wrenched one last ear-piercing time, a clanging sound began from right behind them.

“OhshitGO!”

Bolt Cutter half-jumped, half-fell out of the doorway and onto dusty rubble.  He scrambled away from the box car, pausing only once he’d put some distance between it and himself.  He turned to watch the other pony jump out after him.

“Half a train to go!” Box Cutter gasped, and his companion nodded in the darkness.  The two took off in one final gallop, even as another CLANG echoed behind them.

“If I never hear that fucking sound again, it’ll be too fucking soon!”  Box Cutter blurted as they kicked over a pile of stones.  A grunt of acknowledgement in response.

Something leapt between the rooftops of the carriages ahead, from shadow to shadow.

“You see that?  Fucking run!”  Box Cutter wailed, speeding even faster.  His companion kept pace, and now they were ready to round the last carriage onto the platform.

Where that thing had headed.

Box Cutter slowed to a halt, and peered around the corner.  The platform was there off to the side, a short ramp leading up off the tracks.  He saw nothing moving, but felt the breeze from the exit just beyond.  He yearned for it, like nothing he’d ever craved before.

“Just run for it, okay?” Box Cutter breathed.  “See you out there.”

The pony behind nodded.  Then suddenly jerked as though slapped.  “Over there!” he gasped, pointing away from the platform, into the dark corner of the concourse.

Box Cutter spun.  All was blackness.  “Where, whe—mrgh!”

The forehooves locked around his head at the same time as the damp cloth clamped over his muzzle, enveloped in golden magic.  He kicked and struggled, but out of breath as he was, he couldn’t avoid taking muffled breaths of the vapours instilled in the fabric.  Soon his eyes rolled back in his head, his limbs sagged, and he was still.

Midnight Phase loosened his grip, and Box Cutter slid to the floor.  Sky Dive landed with a light crunch in front of him.  Slingshot was long gone, splayed on top of a box car.

“I was going to take him,” growled the pegasus.

“You were hitting them harder and harder, Skyder.”

The stallion was still in the darkness.  “No less than they deserve.”

“You know why it’s done this way, old friend.  Let’s get them outside.”

Sky Dive stood in silence a moment longer.  Then with a single nod, he took to the air.

Midnight looked down at the pony slumped by his hooves.  With a tingle of magic, he levitated the square cloth up to eye level, folded it twice, and placed it inside a saddlebag.  Then he plucked the limp body into the air on golden threads, and floated it alongside him.  He began his walk to the exit at a gentle trot, without as much as a backward glance.

The pony’s hooftips brushed the stonework.


*      *      *


“Fuckers,” Brazen Flame said as she hopped down from the ladder’s final rung.  Everypony was accounted for at the bottom, save Full Spectrum, who was maintaining her usual vigil on the air currents above, and Sky Dive, still performing the last of his duties at the front of the Royal Terminus building.  “You made me lose my bet.”

Pinkie giggled.  “And now I gotta think of a forfeit!”

“By the Powers,” Brazen shook her head.  “Beginner’s luck is all.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Twilight said, looking at Pinkie with a resigned expression on her face.

Pinkie just grinned.  “I’m sure I’ll think of something sometime somewhere!  Then you gotta do it!  It’s the ruu-uules!” she trilled.

“Rules in Anarchy,” Brazen chuckled.  “We’ll see.”

Sky Dive swooped down and landed next to Midnight like a coiled spring.  From his jaw dangled a strap, attached to a saddlebag none of the Equestrians recognised.  “They’re all laid out, Midnight,” he said, causing the bag to drop to the ground with a clink.  “And searched.”

“Thanks, Skyder,” Midnight replied.  With a golden gleam, his horn caught light.  Item after item floated from the bag.  “Here’s what our friends there were carrying,” he said.

The Equestrians’ eyes widened as the assortment of weapons became apparent.  There were the usual suspects like knives, switchblades, brass horseshoes and slings.  But there was more.  A spiked flail, something that looked horribly like a large corkscrew, and even what appeared to be a unicorn’s crossbow.

Midnight waited until all six ponies broke eye contact with the levitating arsenal and started to fidget.  Then he drew the floating implements back into a single line, and snapped them into one like a deck of cards.  He packed them away out of sight.

“An’ we were gon’ canter into that,” Applejack said, a lump in her throat.

“Most were naïve, foolish,” Midnight explained.  “Whipped into a clique by their leader, Razzle.  Do not judge them too harshly,” he said, tossing his head.  “Some feel they have nowhere else to turn.  All they require is a little, encouragement, to see that crime doesn’t pay,” he finished, with the merest hint of a grin.

Twilight blinked.  Was this the Lodestar version of Sanctuary’s rehabilitation programme?  Correction of behaviour through supernatural fear?  She wasn’t sure she liked what she was hearing.

“Ah judge,” Applejack grunted.  “Ain’t no excuse.”

“Agreed, Ms Applejack,” Midnight responded.  “Nopony was permitted to escape our demonstration tonight.  They have been shown the error of their ways.”

“So what happens to them now?” Twilight pressed.

Midnight turned.  “We leave them.  Leave them with the memory of what it is to anger the spirits of Anarchy.  A memory that lasts a lifetime.  Longer.  It’s something they’ll tell their foals about.”  He grinned.  “And so, the dark legend of the Royal Terminus continues.”

“Can we go now, please?” Fluttershy whispered from the back.

Midnight paused, then reassumed an expressionless mask.  “Of course.  Thank you for your patience, Equestrians.  This detour will save a number of good ponies a great deal of grief.”

Twilight let out her breath.  Uncomfortable though she was at the overload of new experiences, that was definitely one thing she could take solace in.  And how disciplined must these ponies be, she suddenly realised, not to have lost sight of the right thing, even as they must be reeling from their own loss?

She welcomed the genuine smile that spread its warmth across her face.  “Thank you all, too, for helping to keep innocent ponies safe.  I know they’d appreciate it.”

“Welcome!” Sine Wave blurted, before clamping her forehooves over her muzzle.

“Did we just get a thank-you?” Brazen blinked.  “Gee, maybe serving under a Royal dictatorship ain’t so bad!”

Twilight’s friends twitched, but she just shook her head at the absurdity of it all.  I’m not the boss of anypony.

“That’s enough, Brazer,” Midnight said, and then turned.  “Come, we can make good progress towards the village by sunrise.”

Twilight followed for a few steps before drawing up short.  “Village?”


*      *      *


Box Cutter yelped and sat bolt upright.

He took in sharp breaths of cold air.  His posture was rigid.  After a moment’s frozen pause, he dared to slide his eyes around in the darkness.

Where the hell was he?

He could feel the blades of grass underneath him.  Outside, then.

Did he make it after all?  So hard to remember…

He looked up, reassuring himself with the sight of the stars.  He recognised part of the glowing dome of the Royal Terminus, towering above.

Outside, but not far enough.  Seeing that cursed place was too damn close.

He picked himself up, and shivered.  He didn’t make it far before he tripped over something, and fell.  He gasped at the same time as it did.

“Who… who’s there?” he croaked from the floor, wincing.

A bright light was his answer as Razzle lit her horn.  Her eyes were wide, and her pale face was the picture of shell-shock.

“Something… something took me.”

Box Cutter shuddered and looked away, and it was then that he glimpsed the others.

They were laid out in neat rows.  Rows, he realised, he and Razzle had been a part of.  They lay on their backs, forehooves crossed on their chests.

Like bodies lying in state.

“I don’t… I don’t…” Box Cutter breathed.  He remembered, now.  Something had grabbed him, too.  He’d passed out.  A fact he was deeply grateful for.  “What does it mean?”

“It means,” Razzle whispered as some of the ponies began to stir, many jerking awake with a gasp just like Box Cutter had, “we’ve had our warning.”

There were sporadic whimpers of exchanged words as more ponies regained consciousness.  One by one they recovered from the initial shock, and galloped into the forest.  Soon only the supine Slingshot remained.

Razzle watched them go with dazed detachment.  “I’m done.  Never coming here again.  You got any sense, you’ll do the same.”

She left.  Stupefied, slow paces.  She traced a straight line, but her direction was aimless.  Anywhere but here.

Box Cutter was alone.  He shivered again.

He turned to the Royal Terminus.  It loomed there, loomed as it always had done.

He licked his lips.

“Thank you.”

With that, he turned and headed away, silently receding to join his watchpony companion.