Ch. 22 - Dance With The Dead In The Pale Moonlight
Many Years Ago
“Sister! Slow down! We art having trouble keeping up!”
Luna flapped harder, just rising above the jagged ridge rocks. She found her sister standing at the top, looking out. The dark blue alicorn landed, seeing what Celestia stared at.
Just beyond the mountains they flew through was a vast expanse of flat ground. Or rather, an open expanse of ground that gently sloped down towards a single point in the center. It was an enormous crater, some kilometers wide, terminating on all sides at stark mountain walls. The ground along the crater was barren. Not a single pool of water could be seen, nor any moving creature, nor a single thing of green.
At the very bottom of the crater, at the center of the desolate land, was the distant, tiny flicker of unnatural fire.
“Tis that what we seek, dear sister?” Luna asked, straining her eyes.
“Yes, Luna,” Celestia said, priming her exhausted wings for another (mercifully short) flight. “That is it. There be the Skull Heart.”
Present Day
“UUUUUURRRRRRRYYYYYY!”
The zombie rose to its pilfered feet and bore down upon the human, shrieking as it went.
For her part, Painwheel hardly expected such speed. “Shit!” she said, throwing her arms in front of her face. The undead crashed into her hard, sending her flying. “UUGHH!”
She tumbled mid-air, watching the ground sail over her head. “Hraah!” she growled, starting up her Buar Drive. Righting herself, Painwheel arrested her fall, hovering under the pinwheel blades' power. The human watched the zombie, contemplating her next move.
All the while, she wondered why she felt nothing. Then the zombie jumped after her.
“Wha- SHIT!” she shouted, leaning back so the propeller blades would carry her backwards. By mere centimeters the zombie's chomping jaws missed Painwheel. “Grah!”
“Urry...uuu...rrry...URRRYYYY!” The undead fell to the ground, then leaped again, clouds of dust and pulverized brick flying off from its hooves.
“Again?” Painwheel croaked, flying sideways. “Stop ju-” She was cut off by the undead, who glanced off of her nonetheless. Painwheel spun bodily in the air, losing the ability to remain aloft. Seeing the ground approach, she tucked and rolled, coming to a stop on solid ground.
Nearby the creature landed in a slide, more dust thrown up. It looked around, then locked onto its target. The creature charged.
Painwheel jumped sideways, letting the zombie charge past. She adjusted to more solid foot, keeping a weary eye on the creature. Said abomination turned around, beginning another charge.
But Painwheel didn't make a wide leap to the side, instead stepping at the last moment to avoid it.
You're fast, Painwheel thought, but I've got a measure of you now.
The creature lumbered around, preparing another charge. “Uuuuurrryyy!” it yelled. But as it ran in, Painwheel pulled a fist back and sidestepped, planting a hard punch into its face as it ran to meet her.
Painwheel hissed, wincing as the Gae Bolga parasites pierced her flesh from inside, spreading out into a collection of sharp spikes across the length of her arm. Through those spikes, she felt the vibration of resistance as tip met necrotic flesh. She heard skin tearing. No howls of pain, though.
Except maybe her own soft mutterings.
As the monster slowed to a stop, Painwheel didn't afford it respite. She charged, planting one foot down while another kicked high. That limb too flexed, trembling in visceral agony as spikes shot out and turned a blunt leg into a sharp morningstar.
The zombie turned just in time to receive the strike to its face. “Uuuuwwyyy?” it slurred, staggering back.
Painwheel followed up by pulling low and jabbing into the creature's chest, slipping another stinging spike into it. She allowed the spike to remain extended, instead wrenching it violently from the zombie's flesh.
The zombie's face turned down towards Painwheel, barely cognizant of the assault. Glassy eyes stared at her blankly. “Uuu...uuurr...rryyy...” it breathed, a bit of torn lip flapping as it did.
“GRRAAAH!” Painwheel screamed, pulling her other arm back and punching straight for the monster's face. The agony running through her arm was incalculable, but the feel of the face giving as it met her fist was strangely satisfying. Especially since the parasites extended in time to piece at least a couple of the monster's eyes with a sickening squelch.
“BRROOH!?” the creature said, flying back. Great dust clouds rose up where it landed, flailing.
Then Painwheel thought, why the hell not? Despite the ache in her arms, she drew back, flexing their muscles. Pressure built up steadily, until she released it and a barrage of flying spikes at the creature. The spikes flew and struck the monster with dull thuds. It continued to gesticulate wildly, unbothered.
“Aaah!” Painwheel gasped, clutching her arm. Her eyes shut, as if doing so could lessen the pain.
Oh right, she thought ruefully, that's why not.
Her jaw hurt from clenching it so, but she looked towards her opponent. Did that do anything at least?
The zombie rose to its hooves. To Painwheel's confusion, violet energy poured out from the spikes – no, horns – that stuck out from its body. She was certain those weren't hers. The glow seeped into the gaping wounds, which slowly mended. The hole in its chest closed, as did the ones on its neck. As the monster turned towards Painwheel, its mangled eyes grew whole. Or as whole as they could be. Vitreous fluid leaked down its face, seemingly unmoved by the magic seeking to fix the eyes. Instead, those stolen orbs seemed sunken, less full.
The shredded flaps of its lips reattached. “Uuuurrrryyyy....”
Nope, Painwheel thought, gawking. She scowled, assuming a fighting stance again. So how the hell do I kill this thing?
Then, another thought occurred to her: why did she assume it could be killed? It wasn't alive to begin with, was it?
Why did she feel nothing?
“UUUUURRRRYYYY!” the monster screamed, charging again.
Painwheel took a step sideways, then extended her hand. As the zombie came near, she grabbed its throat, digging her fingers into the dead flesh.
“HRRAAAH!” Painwheel yelled, planting her feet into the earth and lifting.
“Urr?” the zombie choked, losing its footing on the ground. Legs kicked spasmodically is it rose into the air.
“Go to hell!”
Painwheel slammed the zombie head-first into the ground. The earth shook under her feet with the impact. Another cloud of dust shot up around them.
Before the creature even settled on the ground, Painwheel drew back, building painful pressure in her arms. Both fists shot forward at the creature, erupting in black spikes. “DIE!”
Undead mass flew back, rolling over and over across the cobbled street. With a sickening smack, it crashed against the side of a building. Cracks formed in the already weakened wall, followed by the whole thing crumbling on top of the monster.
Painwheel breathed heavily, clutching her arms. She couldn't fell anything.
Why couldn't she feel anything?
The pile of bricks and painted plaster erupted, revealing the zombie rising to its hooves. “...urrryyyy....”
Why didn't she feel it?
The zombie dug its five hooves in the ground and charged.
Why was it so...empty?
Painwheel scowled, rage boiling over. Her teeth clenched, she activated the Buar Drive.
Charging past, the zombie missed the human, seeing in the corner of its vacant eyes a blur of motion. Then the zombie stumbled. “Urry?” it yelped, falling on its face and skidding to a stop.
“Empty.”
Painwheel turned around, the spinning blades coming to a stop. At her feet flopped a severed front leg; the one with only one hoof.
“You're empty!” Painwheel yelled at the zombie.
“...uuuu...rrryyy? Oof!” the creature said, falling back to the ground after a failed attempt to stand. It may have had four hooves, but it only had three legs under it. It struggled to rise again, atrophied synapses in its brain trying desperately to compensate for the lost limb.
“You,” Painwheel growled, glaring at the zombie. Her fist clenched hard enough to hurt. “You're not there, are you? Skull Heart, you aren't in there!” She stamped a foot. “You aren't my enemy! You're not a shell for the Skull Heart! Not some two bit Skullgirl! You're not even a puppet of the Skull Heart, like those minions were!” Painwheel threw her arms around in rage. She screamed, “You're not a creature! YOU'RE A THING!”
She looked down again at the severed leg. It twitched and writhed, spilling violet energy from its gaping wound. Yet it didn't heal, because it didn't have anything to heal back onto. Eventually, the sparkling aura ran out, though it continued kicking.
So that's why you needed me, Painwheel thought. In her mind, she saw two things. The first was Twilight Sparkle. You realized it could keep going forever, because every part of it was enchanted towards animation.
The second thing Painwheel saw in her mind was the Cat. The one that made terrible puns.
“You're a WHEEL Pain!”
Painwheel scoffed in disgust. She kicked the leg, watching it flop impotently on the ground.
This thing wasn't like the Cat, however. For all her posturing and stupid fixation on wordplay*, the Cat was clever. She was chopped into pieces once too, Painwheel could tell, but had worked out how to weaponize her own nature.
Painwheel could still feel the bites and scratches where the Cat and her own detached head double-teamed her.
This...thing, however, was stupid. Not in five minutes or a hundred years was it likely to figure out how to work in pieces. Like an octopus, its limbs once detached could only follow some simple program.
The Buar Drive powered up again. “HRRAAH!” Painwheel screamed, swinging her “tail” around so it sliced through the leg. Once, twice. Right at the joints. When she stood back to admire her work, she found the leg in three more pieces, incapable of anything but spastic muscular twitches. Completely inert.
Painwheel looked back towards the...thing. It limped towards her, trying and failing to get itself into another charge. It had apparently mastered rising again, but it had trouble grasping that it couldn't run.
So the human came to it.
“Uuu...rrr...aaahh...rrry...yyy...”
It was a thing. Not a creature, a thing. It couldn't be killed because only things with life, even a perverted semblance of life when it came to a true undead, could actually be killed. One doesn't kill a thing.
One breaks it.
“Uuuurrryyy!” The thing barked, lunging for Painwheel.
She lashed out steadily with her blades, cutting a wide gash through the thing's front.
It stumbled forward, past Painwheel. With the human directly behind it, the thing reared and bucked awkwardly with its back hooves. Painwheel jumped back a step and blocked with the Buar Drive. With only one foot under it, the thing fell into its belly. “Uuurrryy!” It started clamoring to its feet.
Painwheel locked onto the thing, but it didn't turn around. Instead, it walked backwards, and bucked again. Painwheel stepped back, studying it. Then she saw the eyes in the back of the thing's head.
“Mrrr...” Painwheel growled. She crouched low. “If that's how you want to play this...”
“Urry!” The thing bucked, barking.
Painwheel jumped over the kicking legs, landing on its rump. From where she balanced on the once-horse's back, she could see the front of its body glowing with violet light. She could also see the glassy eyes on the thing's back staring at her.
“Uuuurrrryyyy!”
She coiled like a spring. In more ways than one.
“GRAAAH!” Painwheel yelled, jumping. Her hands dove at the creature's rear eyes, digging deep into their misused sockets. The Buar Drive, meanwhile, spun up and angled down.
“Urry?!?”
As Painwheel's fingers dug into the back of the thing's head, the spinning blades sawed into the thing's back. The twin sensations of moldering flesh and the vibrations of metal on bone shot through her, along with the customary pain of the parasites. The blades screeched, sending bits of necrotic flesh flying, along with colorful sparks.
“UUURRRRYYY!”
“Feel Pain!”
With a sudden lurch, she felt the blades cut right through the thing's lower back, breaking her platform in two. Painwheel braced her feet against the base of the thing's neck, and pushed off. As she flew off, she tore the rear eyes right out of the thing's head. She hadn't even landed before she threw the crushed eyes away.
The thing fell to the ground. In two pieces.
“Uuurrryyy!?” the thing screeched, face planted against the cobblestone. It used its front leg to push back, only to find itself without another leg to stand on. “Uuuurry?”
The entire flank half, meanwhile, kicked wildly, rolling over and over.
As Painwheel stood up, she was surprised to see the back half – probably accidentally – hopped upright and stagger around. It swayed drunkenly from side to side, dirt puffing from the ground where it stomped frantically.
Painwheel merely scowled, revving up the Buar Drive again. Dropping to all fours, she allowed the spinning blades to sail over her and cut downward. With yet more sickening screeches, the blades bisected the detached rear half of the thing. As the two halves tottered, preparing to fall to either sides, Painwheel swung the blades horizontally, slicing through both knees, and then again through both ankles.
With one final smack, this time broad side, Painwheel sent the various pieces scattering to different directions. Each fell to the ground, twitching yet useless. More violet energy splashed out of the pieces where they were cut, like a stream of blood, before cutting out as they tumbled to the ground.
“Uuu...rrr...uurrrr....rrrryyyy...uurryy...”
Painwheel turned back to the main body. It dragged itself along the ground with its one remaining leg, the scraping of gravel under its belly signaling its approach more than the labored growls of the thing.
She walked forward, watching the periodic, unending sparks erupting from its backside.
Painwheel was curious. She had a theory.
“Uuuuu....rrryyyy...yyy...”
Painwheel effortlessly dodged the thing's chomp, seizing its throat with her off hand, right below the mangled jaw.
“Hrrk!”
The human lifted the whole creature, her muscles straining under the effort. “Ffff...argh!” she grunted, balancing the thing on the stump where the back half of its body used to be. The thing tried to kick with its remaining, two-hoofed leg, but Painwheel grabbed it at the ankle. “Rhaah!” With one quick motion, she bent the leg back, then steadied a foot against the thing's chest. She jerked again, this time bending the leg forward at the knee. She heard the sickening pop and crack. Releasing the leg, she saw it tumble uselessly down.
Then she saw violet energy pour over the knee, attempting to repair it.
“NO!” Painwheel barked, pulling back her free hand. Muscle spasms rocked her arm, the parasites coiling and writhing in anticipation. Her skin rippled with their movement.
“RRAAAAGGHH!” Painwheel punched the thing's chest as hard she she could; long, thick spikes erupted from her flesh. She stabbed through, slamming her way through the skin and even collapsing the rib cage. Or what remaining of it.
She heard the puncture of metal. She felt the debilitating electric shock.
“AAAAHHH!” She screamed, lightning – magical lightning – running through the parasites and into her arm. The shock of it all whipped the parasites throughout her body into a frenzy. “ACK! AAAAAAHHH! FFFUUUUCK!”
“UUUUUUUURRRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!” the thing shrieked, head whipping to and fro.
“Aaah! M'gah!” Painwheel gasped, using the thing to support herself. Her vision blurred, spots forming in it. Her teeth chattered, her body shuddering spontaneously. Yet she forced herself to remain standing. And she would not loosen her grip.
Willing the parasites that impaled the thing to remain rigid, she began to pull back. At first, she felt a seemingly immovable force attached to her hook. Her already tortured arms protested the ill treatment.
But she was committed. The most analytical part of her mind – the one born of Carol's diligent studies - said she was succumbing to the sunk cost fallacy, but she didn't care.
Painwheel breathed deep. She breathed deep, and summoned the remainder of her strength. Tendons in her arm threatened to pop. But she pulled, and pulled, and pulled.
And something in the thing's chest budged.
“One. Last. PULL!”
With that, Painwheel wrenched her arm back, the thing's chest exploding. A hunk of metal came with, impaled on a thick black spike. “RRAAAAGH!” she screamed, wrenching it again so that the metal came free from the monster, long strands of wire came with it.
All along, the device spat colorful light and sparkles. They sprayed out of the wires and oozed from the puncture the spike made. Not merely violet, either, but a rainbow of sparkling aura waves. The wires, some lined with segmented metal coverings, whipped about, loosing mana obscenely.
“Ack...uuuu....rack...rrrryyy...” the thing coughed, belching mana from the mouth and eyes and nostrils and cuts.
Painwheel dropped the thing unceremoniously, enraptured by the blinding contraption stuck like a kebab on her biological weapons. Finally, she shook the device, and finally knocked it off, allowing her parasites to crawl back inside her. The machine clattered to the ground, spewing mana until all was finally expended. It stilled, letting only the occasional spark erupt from its chassis.
“Whoa! Did you...did you see that, Twilight?”
Painwheel turned around in alarm, seeing a very tired Twilight Sparkle being half-carried by an amazed and bewildered Spike the Dragon.
“Wha-...what are...gulp...you doing here?” Painwheel said, gasping for air. She unconsciously gripped her dominant hand, which twitched and shook violently.
“Painwheel!” Spike said, carrying Twilight closer. “I ran into Twilight trying to fly over here.” He looked at the carnage all around him. “This sure is...gulp...sure was a...fight...” He clapped a scaly hand over his mouth. “Ugh...sorry, I just...” He shut his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn't even be looking at this...”
Twilight Sparkle hopped off of Spike's shoulder, hobbling over. “Painwheel,” she said, weakly, staring at the device on the ground. She pointed to it, “You pulled that out of the creature's chest?”
“Yeah,” Painwheel nodded, glancing towards the contraption. “I...had a feeling.”
“It was probably right,” Twilight said, bending over for a closer examination. “I wondered how a single being, even an undead one, could absorb and hold as much mana as it did. Simple enchantments would be burned out if overloaded, unless it was really, really well-designed. This device must have been built to regulate the flow of mana in the body. Fascinating...if we could just...”
“Uuuurrryyy!”
Slice.
“Ah!” Twilight exclaimed, jumping away as the thing's head fell to the ground at her feet. Twilight looked up, and saw Painwheel's Buar Drive spin down, right next to the now-decapitated corpse of the monster. “Painwheel...you...”
Painwheel stepped over to the head – still mouthing its trademark litany – and kicked it across the street. The human looked up to Twilight.
“...Painwheel...” Twilight said, shocked. Then she smiled weakly. “...thanks...for everything...”
“I suppose I, too, must offer my thanks!”
Pony, dragon, and human all looked up to the moonlight sky. From it, the shining figure of the Day Princess descended, flanked on either side by soldiers. Moreover, behind them were a legion more of soldiers; pegasi carrying more grounded troops in chariots. High in the air, almost hidden by the night sky, was the distant form of Princess Luna.
“Sorry we're so late!” Celestia landed softly on the ground, mindful to avoid scattered body parts. “From the looks of things, Painwheel, you've already taken care of the threat.” Celestia smiled. “For this, you have my thanks.”
Painwheel looked bewildered. “Um, thanks...your majesty,” she muttered, looking down at her hands and flexing them experimentally.
“Wait!” Twilight exclaimed, drawing the attention of everypony present. “Where are Rainbow Dash and Applejack? Painwheel, have you seen them? Are they okay?”
“Over here, Twi!”
The assembled group – which was growing rather large at that point as more and more soldiers touched down – looked down the street. Coming in – slowly – were five ponies. Applejack, as carried by Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash, as carried jointly by Rarity and Fluttershy.
“Applejack! Rainbow Dash! Girls!” Twilight said, overjoyed. She limped as excitedly as she could through the sea of soldiers and signs of dismemberment. “How did...I don't...oh, I'm so glad you're okay!”
“He he, yeah,” Rainbow Dash said weakly, before coughing. “Me and Applejack weren't going to let one zombie get us that easy. We're too...ow...awesome.” She winced, rubbing her back.
“Yeah, real awesome,” Applejack muttered, winking playfully. She started a pained laugh when Dash scowled at her.
Rarity, bearing her share of the weight admirably (which was most of it, when Fluttershy was involved), waved a muscular soldier over. “Good sir, be a dear and take our friends,” she said when he came near. “They simply must receive medical attention, and it's been a time and a half carrying them.”
“Right away, ma'am,” the soldier said, motioning his compatriots over. “We have a team of medical personnel on hand.”
“Much thanks!” Rarity said, surrendering her boastful charge. She turned back to Twilight. “We found Rainbow and Applejack over yonder, nearly passed out.”
“Were...not!” Dash called, being carried to a pair of medics along with Applejack.
“I must say, I expected bad things to happen, when Sweetie Belle and her friends said there was a monster,” Rarity went on. “I just wasn't expecting so much destruction or...ew!” Rarity recoiled in disgust from a rotting thigh she nearly stepped into. “Ew, ew, ew!” She looked around, seeing the extent of the carnage. “Oh sweet Celestia...” Finally, her face grew pale – paler than normal – and she turned away, growing violently ill.
“Oh my goodness!” Fluttershy shrieked, spying the gore. “What is...did anypony get hurt? Oh my goodness!”
“No, no, don't worry, Fluttershy,” Twilight said, rushing over to put a comforting hoof on her friend's shoulder. “Nopony got hurt. This is...these are...all part of the monster. Painwheel had to...” Twilight Sparkle pointed over to Painwheel, but became utterly without words that wouldn't horrify Fluttershy further. “...had to...um...”
“It wouldn't die,” Painwheel said, walking over. She wandered past and kicked the monster's head along with her. “So I had to break it.”
“EEP!” Fluttershy yelped, seeing the head flop near her.
“Painwheel please!” Twilight objected, glaring towards Painwheel. When Painwheel glared back, raising an eyebrow, Twilight wilted. “I mean, try to be more delicate.”
“Oh poor thing!” Fluttershy said, bending low and looking at the head blink at her. “Painwheel, did you have to hurt it? Maybe it didn't...know what it was...doing?” Her scolding would have carried more weight had she not been so long to the ground, so reluctant to look Painwheel in the eye, and so pale and shaken. Evidently she was struggling to afford the abomination against nature and life the same consideration she would afford any creature. That she only did so out of obligation, and little from actual concern. She looked ill just staring at the head.
The head chomped impotently at her, causing her to jump. She hid behind Painwheel, shaking.
“Oh, I have no doubt it didn't know what it was doing,” Painwheel said, kicking dirt onto the head. “That's the problem. It's not a creature, Fluttershy. It's not a critter, in need of love.” She pointed towards the sparking mana machine she pulled out of its chest. “It's a machine. A killing machine...
“...just like me...”
“Nonsense, Wheelie!”
Pinkie Pie jumped up and down next to the human. She too looked a paler shade of pink than usual, but she forced a smile on her face. “You're not a robot, Wheelie,” Pinkie said, poking Painwheel's arm with a hoof. “You're a friend! A spooky friend, but a friend nonetheless!”
“Not just a friend,” Spike said, joining in. He raised a dragon fist in the air. “You're a hero!”
“Bullshit,” Painwheel retorted, causing the rest of them to stop and frown in surprise. Painwheel crossed her arms, scowling. “I'm no hero. I didn't even want to fight at first. And...” She spread her hands wide, gesturing to the carnage. “...it doesn't take a hero to do this. I'm just a freak, with the right weapons at her disposal.”
“You're wrong.”
Painwheel turned to yet another voice. It came from just outside the group, and ponies parted to see who it was.
It was Goose Down.
“Lady...Painwheel?” Goose said, limping over, wincing with every step. “I've been in this town a long time; since I was born. I've seen a lot of disasters. And I've seen heroes. Most important of all, though...” He paused, stepping close enough to look up into Painwheel's red and black eyes. “...I know what I'm not. I'm no hero. But you saved me, even though you didn't have to. Even after all I did and said about you.”
“Who are you, again?” Painwheel asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Doesn't matter! I'm nopony!” Goose said, shaking his head. “You! It's you who is important! You say you didn't even want to fight, but you came anyway, right?”
“Well...” Painwheel said, looking sidelong at Twilight Sparkle.
“Well, that makes you a hero,” Goose continued. “You came and helped, and did what nopony else could. I see now...” Goose took a deep breath. “...I see now that what makes a hero isn't how they are on the outside. Or how they acted in the past. What matters is what they do now, when good needs doing. And you...you did good. Even if you're freaky looking and have a buzzsaw on your back.”
Goose looked around, seeing all eyes on him. “He he, well, I guess that's all I've got to say.”
“No, it was well said,” Princess Celestia said, joining the conversation finally. She looked up to the sky, waving to an airborne Princess Luna. “I think that our friend Painwheel acted courageously. Above and beyond what was required of her.”
“Yeah! Go Wheelie!” Pinkie Pie cheered, breaking out pom poms from nowhere. She even did a celebratory cartwheel.
“Hear hear!” Spike said, patting Painwheel on the thigh.
“I...hurr...concur...” Rarity said, double over as she was nearby on the ground, trying to hold back yet more vomit and desperately avoiding the gore all around her.
“Yeah, Painwheel,” said Twilight, patting her on the shoulder. “You did good.”
Painwheel blushed heavily; she cupped her hand over her mouth. She even allowed her bangs to fall over her eyes. “...thanks...”
“Hey...Princess?”
“What is it?” Celestia and Twilight said together. Then Twilight blushed, and ceded the floor to her mentor. Celestia smiled benignly. “You may speak, soldier.”
The soldier in question looked around, lips quivering. Everypony was exhibiting signs of nausea then. “Princess, what are we to do with all these...with the remains?” He looked over to the head, which continued to blink. The soldier gulped.
“Hmm...” Celestia hummed, stroking her chin. “I would have the remains of the creature analyzed. It would be...informative to find out what kind of necromancy went into its making, or how it remains animated. Perhaps we can figure out how to make it inanimate again, as well.”
“Oh! Oh!” Twilight said, waving her hand in the air. “Princess Celestia!” She pointed to the contraption on the ground nearby. “We should have that analyzed too!”
“Oh?” Celestia asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes!” Twilight said, as excitedly as she could be given her condition. “That device was inside the creature, and it...”
“Very well, very well, Twilight,” Celestia cooed, waving her former student down. “You are a princess and you've studied the creature extensively as it is, so I trust your counsel.” She turned to the soldier. “See to it that device is also collected for study. I expect Princess Twilight will send more complete reports of her on-the-field findings.”
“Yes, your majesties!” the soldier exclaimed, saluting and walking off.
“Now then...” Celestia said, turning back to Twilight and Painwheel. “There's one last thing I need to know.”
“It wasn't the Skull Heart,” Painwheel said, eliciting puzzled reactions from everyone around her. Twilight looked knowingly at Painwheel, not sure of what to make of the revelation.
Celestia looked taken aback. “You're absolutely sure?”
“When I last fought the Skullgirl, I could feel her in my bones; in my blood,” Painwheel said, confidently. “Even those resurrected to fight for her felt touched by her influence. By the power of the Skull Heart. I felt nothing of the sort from this...thing...”
Celestia smiled. “That is good to know.” She sighed in relief.
“Now I need to ask you a question, your majesty,” Painwheel asked. She ignored Twilight's shocked expression, as if such impudence could not stand. Painwheel had no time for it.
“Oh? What would you like to know?”
“It's something that's bugged me ever since I met you, Princess,” Painwheel said, looking Celestia straight in the eyes. “How do you know what the Skull Heart is?”